#C. Drop to the ground and play dead
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blackhazefanblog · 4 months ago
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I think we have too many blond characters.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year ago
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Motivation
(Part 2)
Time Written- 10:23 p.m.
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I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up
“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.
A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.
A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.
Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.
“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”
“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.
“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”
Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.
The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.
Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.
“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.
“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.
“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.
He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.
“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.
“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.
He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”
Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.
Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.
“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”
Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.
“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”
“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”
The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.
“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”
“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.
“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.
The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.
He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.
“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.
“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”
You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.
The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.
Your boy, his boy. His son.
“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.
He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.
“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.
“I love you.”
Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.
The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.
“Love you too, mama.”
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literaryvein-reblogs · 25 days ago
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121 Words & Phrases for Dying
A remarkable creativity surrounds the vocabulary of death. The words and expressions range from the solemn and dignified to the jocular and mischievous.
Old English
swelt/forswelt ⚜ give up the ghost ⚜ dead ⚜ i-wite
wend ⚜ forworth ⚜ go out of this world ⚜ quele ⚜ starve
c.1135 — 1600s
die (c.1135) ⚜ fare (c.1175) ⚜ end; let; shed (one’s own) blood (c.1200)
yield (up) the ghost (c.1290) ⚜ take the way of death (1297)
die up; fall; fine; leave; spill; tine (c.1300)
leese one’s life-days (c.1325) ⚜ part (c.1330)
flit (c.1340) ⚜ trance; pass (1340) ⚜ determine (c.1374)
disperish (c.1382) ⚜ be gathered to one’s fathers (1382)
miscarry (c.1387) ⚜ go; shut (1390)
expire; flee; pass away; seek out of life; sye; trespass (c.1400)
decease (1439) ⚜ ungo (c.1450) ⚜ have the death (1488)
vade (1495) ⚜ depart (1501) ⚜ pay one’s debt to nature (c.1513)
galp (1529) ⚜ go west (c.1532) ⚜ pick over the perch (1532)
die the death (1535) change one’s life; jet (1546)
play tapple up tail (1573) ⚜ inlaik (1575) ⚜ finish (1578) ⚜ relent (1587)
unbreathe (1589) ⚜ transpass (1592) ⚜ lose one’s breath (1596)
go off (1605) ⚜ make a die (of it) (1611) ⚜ fail (1613)
go home (1618) ⚜ drop (1654) ⚜ knock off (c.1657) ⚜ ghost (1666)
go over to the majority (1687) ⚜ march off (1693)
bite the ground/sand/dust; die off; pike (1697)
1700s — 1960s
pass to one’s reward (1703) ⚜ sink; vent (1718) ⚜ demise (1727)
slip one’s cable (1751) ⚜ turf (1763) ⚜ move off (1764)
kick the bucket (1785) pass on (1805) exit (1806)
launch into eternity (1812) ⚜ go to glory (1814) ⚜ sough (1816)
hand in one’s accounts (1817) ⚜ croak (1819)
slip one’s breath (1819) ⚜ stiffen (1820) ⚜ buy it (1825)
drop short (1826) ⚜ fall a sacrifice to (1839)
go off the hooks (1840) ⚜ succumb (1849) ⚜ step out (1851)
walk (forth) (1858) ⚜ snuff out (1864) ⚜ go/be up the flume (1865)
pass out (c.1867) ⚜ cash in one’s checks (1869) ⚜ peg out (1870)
go bung (1882) ⚜ get one’s call (1884) ⚜ perch (1886) ⚜ off it (1890)
knock over (1892) ⚜ pass in (1904) ⚜ the silver cord is loosed (1911)
pip (out) (1913) ⚜ cop it (1915) ⚜ stop one (1916) ⚜ conk (out) (1918)
cross over (1920) ⚜ kick off (1921) ⚜ shuffle off (1922)
pack up (1925) ⚜ step off (1926) ⚜ take the ferry (1928)
meet one’s Maker (1933) ⚜ kiss off (1945)
have had it (1952) ⚜ crease it (1959) ⚜ zonk (1968)
The list displays a remarkable inventiveness, as people struggle to find fresh forms of expression.
The language of death is inevitably euphemistic, but few of the verbs or idioms shown here are elaborate or opaque.
In fact the history of verbs for dying displays a remarkable simplicity: 86 of the 121 entries (over 70%) consist of only one syllable, and monosyllables figure largely in the multi-word entries (such as pay one’s debt to nature).
Only 16 verbs are disyllabic, and only 3 are trisyllabic (determine, disperish, miscarry), loanwords from French, and along with expire, trespass, and decease showing the arrival of a more scholarly vocabulary in the 14th and 15th centuries.
Even the euphemisms of later centuries have a markedly monosyllabic character.
Some constructions evidently have permanent appeal because of their succinct and enigmatic character, such as the popularity of ‘____ it’ (whatever the ‘it’ is): snuff it, peg it, buy it, cop it, off it, crease it, have had it.
It’s possible to see changes in fashion, such as the vogue for colloquial usages in "off" in the middle of the 18th century (move off, pop off, pack off, hop off ).
And styles change: we no longer feel that "pass out" would be appropriate on a tombstone. But some things don’t change. Pass away has been with us since the 14th century. And, in a usage that dates back to the 12th, we still do say that people, simply, died.
Source ⚜ More: Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Historical Thesaurus
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dovveri · 4 months ago
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dancing with your ghost
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synopsis: you and momo are brought up in an era of war. you’re taught to fight, and the time has come for you to put those skills to use.
warnings: needles, medieval fighting, death, torture, orphans, weapons, swearing, period mentions, suicide, blood
w/c: 6.6k
a/n: hi hey giggle feeling a little more emo than usual… this was originally birthed from black clover mars and fana 🫶 enjoy i love a good tragic lovers tale but i hate that i wrote it medievally bcs i think medieval is rly hard to do well but wtv i like writijg swords more than i like writing guns
𐃈
"what's your name?"
you look up curiously under your eyelashes, it's a girl that looks around the same age as you, she's wearing a shirt too big for her, going past her knees, scars dot the skin that's exposed, but she wears a smile, she's not threatening, just curious.
"y/n."
"nice to meet you y/n. i'm momo."
"momo." you test it out, rolling it on your tongue.
she nods happily, plopping down next to you, not minding the hay that pricks into her skin, used to it.
"where did they get you from?"
the reminder makes you tear up, and you’re back to scrunching yourself up in a little ball, covering your head and crying into your knees.
"woah hey! i'm sorry."
you sniffle, still unable to stop the tears, but then momo's tiny arms are wrapped around you, brushing through your hair, trying to calm you.
"it's okay. you're safe now." she repeats, over and over, until your sobs start to subside.
you blink up again, looking at her furrowed brows and concerned expression, "i'm sorry."
"why?" she looks surprised, cupping your face with her hands now that you're looking at her. her hands are rough, you can feel the cuts along them, the scrapes and damaged skin, but it grounds you.
"no-one left..."
she nods sympathetically, dropping her hands, "me too."
"you too?"
"dead."
"i'm sorry."
she shakes her head, "long time now."
"how long?"
momo thinks for a little, taking her stubby little fingers out to count slowly. "3 years ago. i'm 10 now."
"i'm 10 too."
"really?!" momo looks back up at you excitedly, grasping your hands in hers.
you nod, smiling for the first time since you were captured.
"yay! all the others are old. they don't like to play with me." she frowns, hands tightening around yours for a second, "will you play with me?"
you nod again, and she beams, "we're not alone anymore!"
you take the opportunity to have a look around. it's a relatively big room, you can make out mounds of hay, likely used to sleep on, there are other kids milling about as well, in a similar state of dress to momo.
"where are we?"
momo perks up, "the castle! we are special kids. chosen ones. that's what they tell us. they're going to train us to become secret weapons of the kingdom. it's good! they give us a home. and we repay them by training our best."
you frown, "but i don't want to be a weapon. i want to go home."
momo loses her smile, looking uneasy, fiddling with her fingers. "there's... there's no home to go back to."
"what do you mean?"
"they took you away right? that means... we are all orphans." she points to the other kids around the room. "all of our homes were destroyed. this is the only place that would take us in."
"w-what?"
"i'm sorry."
"that can't be true."
"i'm sorry."
"stop apologising! you're lying!"
momo looks shocked at your outbreak, shrinking back into herself, looking even smaller in the shirt 5 times too big for her. but you practically can't see her, only seeing images of your hometown flashing through your head, your parents, your school, your friends, your toys at home.
you don't realise you're hurting yourself and screaming until two guards come in, hoisting you up and ripping your arms away from yourself. momo's watching on with tears, unable to do anything while you thrash around in their arms, carried out of the room shrieking and crying, in disbelief of the situation you found yourself in.
𐃈
when you wake up again, you're lying on top of a heap of hay, wearing a similar oversized shirt that you had saw momo in. there's also a faint pain in the back of your neck, but there's no mirrors for you to see if there was anything wrong.
"y/n?"
you look up from your own pitiful state, seeing momo with wide eyes, holding a tray of food. she's a lot more cautious than the first time you met, not wanting to aggravate or send you into one of your tantrums again. she steps closer slowly, making sure you can see her every movement.
your mouth waters at the food in her hands, stomach grumbling.
she hears it and tries to conceal a smile. she holds it out, carefully sliding it forward.
you dig in immediately, gulping down a glass of water and reaching for the bread.
"are you... okay?"
you grunt, mouth still full of food.
"did they hurt you?"
you pause, returning your attention to her, "don't re-mber." you mumble out through your food.
momo looks behind her, then side to side, as if checking if anyone was listening. then she comes forward in a rush, whispering, "you can't do that again y/n. they don't like it."
you frown, swallowing, "what do you mean?"
"we have to do what they say. or else they'll hurt us."
"have they hurt you before?"
she turns around, parting her hair.
you gasp, staring at the little blinking blue dot embedded in the back of her neck, your hand automatically goes to your own neck, feeling the lump that wasn't there before.
"it's a tracker. so they know where we are at all times. because they're training us to be secret weapons, if get kidnapped or the kingdom's enemies try and use us for ransom, they can remotely activate this and fry our brains. we'll essentially be vegetables after that."
"how... how do you know all this?"
she turns back around, putting her hair back in place, "my friend. it happened to her. she came back from her first mission... different. she wouldn't tell me what happened. but right before they... fried her... she told me everything she could, like she knew they were going to get rid of her the next day."
"but you said... you said it was good they took us in."
momo hisses, "i lied. they were watching you. waiting for you to mess up so they could put the tracker in you."
"why- why are you telling me all this?"
she stands back solemnly, staring at her feet, you remember she was the same age as you, only 10 years old.
"it's only going to get worse from here. and... you're the same as me."
you stare at her, studying her, you'd taken her for a naïve little girl, still innocent despite the horrors she's been through. you'd hoped she was because that meant you could keep your humanity too. when she meets your eyes again, hers are fierce, there's a fire within them, an anger no one else could understand.
"...thank you for telling me."
all of a sudden she melts, and she's back to the girl you first met, clumsy and caring, but you can't unsee the wrath the world placed in a little 10 year old body.
𐃈
it's not surprising that you stick to momo over the next few years. all the older kids don't pay you any mind, and it seems you were the last one brought in, so there's no one younger than you. there's about 20 of you in total. there were 30 in the beginning but some were sent on missions and never seen again, and others died during training. eventually, when you all get too big to fit in the same little barnyard, they move you into the unused dungeons under the castle. you were all kept a secret from the majority of the castle population. at least when you lived in the barnyard you could see the sky, it's been 4 years since you'd last seen sunlight.
you're changing your bandages when one of the older kids runs in, frantic.
"it's momo."
you're up in seconds, running towards the makeshift training arena where you knew momo was sparring with one of the instructors.
you push past all the people straining to get a look, jumping up onto the platformed sparring arena and rushing to momo who's on the floor, gritting her teeth and clutching her stomach.
"what happened?" you get straight to business, gently moving her arms and lifting her shirt to survey the damage.
"she's fucking weak is what happened." the instructor above you spits.
you ignore him, grabbing the first aid kit in the corner of the sparring arena and cleaning the wound. it's a lot deeper than you thought it'd be.
the crowd has gotten bigger. it was normal for them to pit you against knights or prisoners of war, they were more experienced, bigger, dangerous. and now they were circling the sparring arena cheering on the instructor who is spewing nonsense about strength and integrity.
momo had picked a fight with one of the knights who had bullied you last week, he had stolen your rations and dumped them down the feces chutes. momo forced him to go retrieve it, pushing him down the chute and making him dig through the entire castle's feces to find your food, and then she made him eat it.
his captain found out, the one who was in charge of weapons training. the one who just now stabbed momo in the stomach under the pretense of sparring despite explicit orders that you and the other kingdom's 'weapons' weren't to be maimed.
when you finish cleaning and bandaging her wound, you stand up, kicking off the weapons in the arena, then face him head-on. he's taller than you, much more built too, he's got a nasty scar on the bridge of his nose.
he laughs when he sees you, puny and pathetic.
"you wanna fight little one?"
"n-no." momo tries to stop you, her voice is still laced with pain, trying her best not to cry in front of the crowd.
you step forward, chest to chest with him, "you lecture us about integrity but you fought someone half your size with a blade as long as her torso."
he scoffs, "the battlefield won't care about how big you are. that's the problem with you women, you think because you've been born weaker that everyone needs to cater to you. guess what? the real world doesn't care. i guess you wouldn't know that though because you've been cooped up in here all your life huh?"
"and how many women have you spoken to in order to make that assumption?"
he snarls, "more than you."
"that's not a great comparison considering i've only known the same 19 people my whole life. 5 of us who are women."
"fine. enough that i couldn't count them right now and give you a number."
you don't hesitate when your hand darts out and grabs his dick, yanking downwards so he levels with your eyesight, your grip squeezing the flesh tight enough he goes rigid with pain. "you won't mind if you lose this then right? the real world doesn't care after all. you should still be as strong as you were no?"
"you fucking bitch-"
you yank on it again, hard enough that he's toppling forward onto you, but then you bring your knee back up, using his downward force to launch your knee into his nuts, ducking out of the way before he keels over.
"that was fair wasn't it? not my fault you were born with a weak spot right between your legs."
he roars, stumbling around and clumsily throwing a fist your way while holding his testicles. you dodge easily, sending a kick into his side.
"i thought you said women were born weaker? does the fact that i'm beating you right now mean that you're weaker than a woman?"
he tries again, lumbering towards you with both hands this time, reaching for your neck. you easily maneuver around him, letting his own momentum send him crashing into the ground.
"enough!"
everyone in the room quietens down. they part like the red river as a tall, lanky man dressed in the royal colours strides towards you, stepping up onto the platform.
the captain immediately bows his head, shuffling backwards and trying to minimise his presence. you huff, standing in front of momo, prepared to take on anyone that wanted to mess with either of you.
the man tuts, slinking forward until he's cupping your face.
you rip it out of his hands aggressively, choosing to stare at the captain still cradling his balls.
"y/n."
you don't answer.
then he pulls something out of his pocket. your eyes widen, a cold sweat building up.
he notices immediately, smirking, "good girl."
you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to look up at him. he stares down at you, eerie eyes and perfect white teeth. thumbing the little remote control he has in his hand that controlled all of the trackers in your necks. then he turns, addressing the crowd.
"it seems like all our weapons are here. please step forward my children."
the other kids hesitantly clamber up onto the platform, all eyeing the remote he has in his hand. they had upgraded it a few years ago, could now use it to torture you if you acted against them. they realised the threat of rendering you brain dead wasn’t enough as you grew older, they needed you to experience real pain, for you to know they had total control over your minds, your bodies, that you were their property.
"good. i have an exciting announcement to make. there's talks of a treaty being formed between all the kingdoms, it means no more wars, no more innocent lives lost, freedom."
there's murmuring in the crowd of knights, shuffling around, unsure.
"there's a price though. as there is a price for all things. this new world needs a leader. and each kingdom wants to be its leader. the kings have agreed on one way to decide this leader. each will submit one team of 2 fighters to represent them, the winning team will gain this leadership title for their kingdom."
"what does this have to do with us?" someone from the crowd yells.
the man shushes them quickly, waving a hand and having the person who interrupted him escorted out loudly.
"before i was so rudely interrupted... this team will be selected from our secret stash of weapons we have here. other kingdoms already have data from spies inside our kingdom about our regular knights, but they won't know about you."
he turns and smirks at you, "so we're going to be making a big spectacle of this, and the 20 of you, will be fighting it out to get a chance to be that duo in a qualifying round 2 weeks from now."
there's silence.
he makes up for it by clapping, "hooray! isn't that wonderful? you'll finally get to do something with your lives!"
if he wasn't the advisor to the king he'd be dead on the floor now, your hands dripping with his blood. but he was, so he practically prances away, his hoard of guards following him. when he's out of the room, everyone starts talking at once, knights complaining about how they wish they could represent the kingdom, some congratulating us, some spitting at us. you don't pay them any mind, turning back down to lift momo up.
"i can walk."
you frown, supporting her on one side, only for her to almost fall over.
"just let me carry you idiot."
she purses her lips, thinks for a little, "help me walk until the rooms. i don't want everyone to see i'm weak."
you sigh, grabbing onto her waist and slowly inching forwards.
"hey!"
you ignore the captain behind you.
"i'm talking to you bitch!"
he tries to yank your shoulder back but you shrug him off, hoisting momo down where one of the older kids is waiting to help her.
"you not had enough big guy?"
he flinches when you turn, it's pathetic. but then he regains his confidence, standing tall again, "i don't need to fight you. you'll die in those qualifiers anyway. i'll be betting against you."
"then be prepared to lose your money."
you don't let him speak again, hopping down to wrap momo's arm around your shoulder, hobbling away as fast as her injury allows.
when you finally get back, you take her shirt off fully, removing the rushed bandage job you did and beginning to clean it properly with the rubbing alcohol you have hidden under the stone tiles of your shared room.
she hisses at the first touch, but you slap her hand away, focused on cleaning the wound perfectly. 2 weeks wouldn't be enough for it to heal before she has to fight again.
"you shouldn't have done that." she squeezes out.
"why not?"
"he's not going to go easy on you in weapons training tomorrow."
you scoff, "what's the point of even going to those classes anymore? we're all going to die in 2 weeks. and they need to make a big spectacle out of it so it's not like they’re going to prematurely kill us. these trackers are empty threats. at least for now."
"you're not going to die y/n."
you finally look up at her, she's wearing the same look she had when she first warned you about them, about the evils in the world you lived in.
you go back to dabbing at her wound "neither will you then."
momo groans heavily, "don't do that."
"do what?"
"try and protect me."
"that's what you've done my whole life."
"but that's because-" she pauses, wincing as you finish cleaning her up, grabbing the needle and stitching thread.
"because what?"
"you know..." she mumbles, hissing again when the needle enters her skin.
"i don't."
she's silent, watching you piece her back together like you have so many times in the past. once you're done stitching her up, you grab fresh bandages, tying her up again. and then you hesitate, but you're leaning down before you know it, kissing the bandaged patch of skin softly.
"y/n..." momo breathes out.
you stand back up, going to the bathroom to wash your hands. you hear her struggling to get out of bed and follow you, ultimately only succeeding in pushing herself up into a seated position. you sigh, grabbing a clean washcloth and putting it under some water, heading back into the room to start wiping her face, then body. you're not shy with each other, you've been together for almost 10 years now, half your lives. you've seen each other in every state of undress, been through every life stage together, had your first periods, first kisses, first times with each other.
she normally is more stubborn in letting you clean up after her, claiming she can do everything herself but always ending up needing your help, but this time, with the news fresh on both your minds, she's too tired to argue.
by the time you're done and you've curled up in bed next to her, squeezed together on the little single you've shared since you were 16 and moved out of the barnyard, her eyes are drooping and her breathing is laboured with fatigue and maybe also from blood loss.
you're careful not to aggravate her new wounds, wrapping an arm around her hips, a little lower than normal, nuzzling into her shoulder.
you think she’s fallen asleep, but after some time, she speaks up, “i would’ve won.”
you snort, “against the captain?”
“yeah.”
“you were on the floor bleeding out.”
“he cheated.”
“oh really?” your voice is sarcastic, you look up at her from your spot in her neck, suppressing your laughter at the determined look on her face, a little crease between her eyebrows visible.
“yeah. it was only meant to be sword to sword. he had a second dagger up his sleeve. that’s what really got me.”
you trace her hip lightly, humming.
“you believe me right?” she looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed.
you giggle, caressing her chin, “yes i do momo.”
“good.” she huffs, looking away to stare at the ceiling again.
you stare at her profile, her full lips, a little chapped, the tiny scar right under her right ear from when you were forced to spar one another and she made you cut her so that the fight could end quicker, the slant of her nose. if you knew what love was, you’d probably love momo.
“i was serious you know. you’re not dying.”
“i was too. if i don’t die than you don’t either. we’ll both get through.”
she sighs, hand coming to rest on the back of your head, “you know that’s not likely. we’re the youngest. all the others have more experience, most have actually been on missions, if we work together than at least one of us can get through. and it’s going to be you.”
you’re quiet, still studying her face. you knew she was too stubborn to change her mind after it’s made, there was no use arguing with her.
“do you remember that time we snuck upstairs and saw all those people and heard… music?”
she smiles, “it was so interesting. seeing people have fun like that. what did they call it? dancing?”
“dancing.”
“they seemed so carefree. like they didn’t know war was going on outside the walls.”
“there was no point to what they were doing. just moving around, there was no productive purpose. it was so different to everything we’ve been taught.”
momo hums, “i’d like to try it one day. maybe when the war is over. when we can afford to be that relaxed and let our bodies go, listen to music and laugh and dance.”
“what if you suck?”
momo looks down at you in abhorrence “i would not!”
“what if you don’t know how to listen to music and you trip and fall in front of everyone?”
“i’d be amazing. people would be lining up to dance with me.”
you laugh, rolling your eyes at her.
“i’d save the first one for you though.”
you almost didn’t catch it.
you inhale in her neck, taking in her scent, “no thanks. i don’t want to trip over your clumsy feet.”
momo whines, slapping you lightly while you laugh again, curling into her even more.
she was the only one who could make you laugh, who brought joy back into your life after your family was killed. as far as you were concerned, she was the only important thing left in your life worth fighting for.
𐃈
you were right. you decided to stay in with momo over the next fortnight, and no one came and bothered you about it. none of your instructors, none of the other kids, though you could understand that, you were expected to kill each other all very soon anyway, it was best to eliminate as much connection as possible before the battle.
you tended to momo's injuries, only leaving your room to grab your rations and steal some more medical supplies. on the third day, she's able to walk around again against your better judgement, and by the fifth, she's asking you to spar with her to practice before the fighting.
you're only convinced after she promises to tell you if anything hurts too much, and to eat half of your rations so that she could get stronger in less time.
she's basically back in shape at the end of the fortnight, although she's made it known she plans on protecting you once the fighting starts, you've secretly told yourself you'll be the one watching out for her.
"they're loud aren't they?"
"it'll be the first time we'll have seen normal people since... i don't even remember how long ago."
"yeah. the first time we'll see the sun too. or not if it rains. god remember how it felt when it rained? how it sounded?"
you try and block out the other kids milling about the waiting room, it was you or them, you couldn't humanise them, couldn't listen to them talk about their struggles, it'd just make it that much harder to kill them.
there's a tap on your shoulder.
you look up, seeing momo smiling, donned up in the light armour they've provided that only covers your chest and back. she sits next to you, your hands just barely touching.
"you ready?"
you grunt, not bothering to give a proper response.
"that good huh?"
you shoot her a look, rolling your eyes.
"chill. i got your back."
"that's exactly why i'm not excited for this." you grumble.
momo frowns, you had kept most of your complaints to yourself, but now that you were minutes away from actually having to start fighting for your life, you were a little less filtered.
"what is that supposed to mean?"
"i wish you'd let me protect you too."
"y/n..."
"it's fine. i get it. it's whatever, just focus on not getting yourself killed momo." you start to stand, not being able to sit so close to her knowing that you might not be able to see her again, but she pulls on your hand.
you sigh, only weak for her.
"just promise me you'll try. if you- if you die because of me i don't know how i can keep living knowing that." you say softly, still refusing to look her in the eye.
you feel her standing, and then she's wrapping her arms around your midriff, sneaking inside your armour to hold you. you tense up immediately, aware of how this must look. you'd kept whatever you were a secret from everyone else, afraid they'd use your relationship against you, but you were minutes away from possibly never seeing her again, so you throw caution to the wind, letting her hug you.
"i promise. but if you win and i don't-"
"don't say that."
she ignores you, "if you win and i don't, i want you to keep surviving. can you promise me that?"
you sigh, leaning back against her slightly, reveling in the closeness for possibly the last time. "... i promise."
and before you know it, you're being herded out, hot sun beating down on your patchy, grimy faces, bloodlust and screaming oozing from the crowd in the colosseum. you wondered if they knew what you'd been through. who you were. or if they just thought you were another run of the mill knight squad that was chosen to represent the kingdom. you don't have that much time to think over such useless thoughts though, because a loud horn is being sounded and the fighting begins.
𐃈
you whip into action immediately, lurching for the closest weapon you see. unfortunately, one of the other kids has the same idea, and now you're both tugging on the ends of a spear.
the pointed end is facing the other kid though, so you pull for a little, and then when you're sure he's pulling with as much strength as he can, you charge forward, impaling him, then yanking it back out, whipping the spear around in a circle around you to quickly get a grasp of your surroundings while creating a perimeter where no one could attack.
the blood is bright red on the end of your spear, and you cringe a little, suddenly recalling all the memories you had with the boy, sammy, 3 years older than you and momo, the one who helped momo down from the platformed sparring arena 2 weeks ago, dead.
you spot momo a few meters away, also engaged in a fight with one of the older boys, alex, 6 years older than you, split his rations with you when you were punished that time for showing up late to training. momo cuts him down with her sword. dead.
she looks around hurriedly, assessing the situation. you catch her eye very briefly before someone's charging at you with a battering shield. you use the long end of your spear to hoist yourself up and over them like a javelin, letting their heavy shield carry them forward, unable to change direction. you land on both your feet, quickly turning around and stabbing them in the back, yanking back out. han, 4 years older than you, your first ever sparring partner. dead.
you catch sight of an arrow whizzing past your head, straight in momo's direction.
you know momo can dodge it, so you follow the direction from where it was shot from, quickly running forward while he's distracted nocking another arrow in, swinging your spear so it whacks him in the side. he drops the bow and arrow in pain, and before he can put his hand out to defend himself, you're thrusting the spear straight through his neck, blood spurting out and colouring your silver breastplate. robin, 4 years older than you, taught you how to read, dead.
the adrenaline is running, you don't have time to mourn, only to find the next victim before they find you.
eventually, you find yourself back to back with momo, covering each other's blind spots while you fight in perfect harmony. the others knew you were close, they probably didn't know you had practiced dueling for more hours than you'd slept. you knew each other like you knew the sun rose every day.
you've been able to completely block out the cheering and the spectators, only focused on surviving. they'd underestimated the two of you. the youngest, the least experienced, but the ones that spent the most time together, the ones that corrected each other's every weakness in the training field while the older kids were out on missions or stakeouts where they couldn't hone their skills. every second counted. and they realised that now as they lost their lives one by one.
it's down to five of you. no, four, momo just stabbed through kim, the oldest girl, the one who taught you both what to do when you first started bleeding between your legs, dead.
the last two boys are the ones you'd thought would win. the eldest, leo, and his brother, kenny. they were orphaned together, and have spent just as much, if not more time together training as you and momo have. your breathing is coming in a lot harder now, huffing with effort, you're honestly grateful you and momo have survived for this long.
then they're running at you, swords pointed, ready to strike. you both parry them, the clanging of metal against metal ringing in your ears while you take kenny and momo starts fighting leo.
you push kenny backwards so that you're not in momo's way in case she pulls bigger moves, and so she doesn't have to watch your back in case leo tries to kill you when you're not looking. you no longer have to worry about keeping your eyes everywhere now, because everyone else was dead and momo was keeping leo occupied. so you focused your all into killing kenny.
you'd swapped your spear for a sword earlier on, preferring the larger blade than the distance necessitated accuracy a spear requires. you stab and slice and manage to get him to the edge of the colosseum, almost in the shadows when he finally runs out of space to back up. but he remains persistent, parrying every strike, blocking every advance. it would be a battle of endurance. so you grit your teeth and keep attacking, watching his every movement. it's worth it, because you catch the slightest falter in his back foot, and you take advantage of it immediately, darting forward and ducking under his swipe, forcing him to move his weight onto his back foot which was already placed wrong, so he loses his footing for a second, long enough for you to yank the hilt of his sword towards you, letting it flip up in the air before catching it with your left hand, then sending both through his head with a vicious thrust.
you're heaving, stepping on his breastplate to pull the swords back out, turning on your heel and squinting through the blood and sweat to see momo, still holding her own against leo. they both don't seem to notice you've won, so you bound forwards, grateful for your smaller stature and lighter frame, your footsteps not louder than the crowd or the clashing of metal for them to hear you coming.
you catch momo's eye very briefly, a signal flashing between you both before she starts advancing more aggressively, pushing leo backwards where you're waiting. you bring both your swords up and in front of his neck, slicing downwards and slitting his throat open. he drops his sword, clutching at his neck and falling to the ground, bleeding out.
you breathe, and breathe, and breathe, huffing, sweating, exhausted, your mind still playing catch up to the physical atrocities you just forced your body into. momo is in a similar state, hair sticking up in funny places where sweat has collected, fresh blood on her cheek and her arms and legs from cuts and wounds of fighting and killing the other 18 people you'd grown up with.
you can't hear the announcer's voice, sounding out around the stadium, announcing your names, the two that would be moving forward. your ears are only slowly starting to take in the cheering that you'd blocked out.
"-know you guys aren't satisfied yet! so we prepared a special surprise too!"
you blink up through your eyelashes, squinting at the announcer in his little podium box above the colosseum.
"there is actually only meant to be one representative from each kingdom! we've watched these two fight side by side, a killing machine but the joke's on them! now they're going to duke it out to find out who really is the strongest of them all! and have the honour of leading our kingdom to victory in the upcoming kingdoms clash!"
it's like time stops. you can feel every heartbeat, every breath coming in and out of your body, every painful blink as you stare at momo, mouth hanging open, swords clutched tightly by your sides.
"mo-"
she doesn't let you finish saying her name, lashing forwards with a yell, swinging her sword down hard. you're barely able to defend yourself, metal finding skin as she cuts your arm when you bring both swords to push against hers. her eyes are overcome with rage, you're not sure if it's at you, or the kingdom, or if she's just been blindsided by all the people she's killed.
you yell out, trying to get her attention, trying to shake some sense into her, parrying off each of her attacks that only get rougher and rougher. your hearing has come back fully now, you can see the laughter, the glee, the bloodlust in each of the citizen's faces. you didn't care if they knew you were slaves or knights from the beginning, the fact that they were finding enjoyment in this was proof of their cruelty enough.
you're distracted, head fuzzy, still playing catch up, still not really understanding that there would only be one person leaving the battlefield today. you keep begging, crying out to her, to the girl who protected you from day 1, who held you as you cried in bed each night missing your parents, who fought people twice your age and size to defend you, who loved you when you thought you'd never feel love again.
she has you on your stomach now, arms pressed behind your back, your swords long forgotten. it would be over soon. she would win. you were okay with that. you protected her. she would live. if you had to die for momo to live, so be it.
you close your eyes, memories of you and momo flashing through your head when there's a searing pain in your neck, she's cut open. you can see momo and you kiss for the first time, curious what it felt like after seeing two of the older kids doing it, you see momo sneaking into the kitchen with you in hand, shoving grubby handfuls of food into the makeshift basket you had weaved together using your old clothes, you see momo cry for the first time, hiding from you under the covers, trying to make herself as small as possible, as quiet as possible, not wanting you to think she was anything but your protector, you see it all.
and then there's a blinding light.
you can hear her too, her voice.
"this isn’t your fault. remember your promise. i love you."
you blink, eyes adjusting, and with horror, you wipe at your eyes, blood smearing across your skin, not your blood. momo coughs up more red bile in your face, smiling still, impaled on top of her own sword that was now somehow in your hands. her eyes are no longer empty, not like they were when she was advancing on you, they were full of life, of love, they were the same eyes that looked at you when you woke up in the morning, the same eyes that watched you when you fell asleep, soft and tender, devoid of the pains you'd experienced.
you scramble upwards, only impaling the sword in her chest deeper, she coughs again.
"momo- no no no you can't- what have you done- oh god-" you cradle her face in your hands, tears leaking out of your eyes, staring down in disbelief at the chunk of metal that went in through her chest and out through her back.
she coughs again, resting her forehead against yours, closing her eyes, still smiling.
"y/n… dance for me." her last words, whispered hoarsely against your lips, before her breathing stops, the only air moving between you is your own heavy breaths, shuddering, crying, sobbing, hugging her lifeless body against yours, wondering how everything could've gone so wrong.
they'll pull her away from you later, when the crowd gets bored watching a little girl grow hysterical over losing the one thing that ever mattered to her.
you'll scream and kick at them, clinging onto momo's dead body, pleading to spend more time with her, to mourn her. but they'll push you down, carrying you away like the first time they carried you away from momo, except this time she wasn't wide-eyed and teary with concern, she was gone.
they'll throw you back in the room you shared with momo, locking you inside while you pounded away at the door, hands bloody, face still spattered with momo's blood.
when you finally accept that no one was coming, you'll slump down, afraid to look around the room that reminded you of her, cradling your head in your hands, knees to your chest. your fingers will brush through your hair like she used to when she thought you were asleep, they'll meet fleshy, wet, skin at the back of your neck when your nails dig harshly into your hair and neck.
you'll blink, confused, inspecting your fingers at the fresh blood that coated them. you'll bring your hand to the back of your neck again, feeling around. the lump was gone.
with wide eyes, you'll realise the stinging pain you felt when you thought you were dying, was momo digging the tracker out of your neck. she had fought you so aggressively on purpose, gotten you on your stomach on purpose, all so she could free you before killing herself, making it look like you had turned the tables, like you had pulled her weapon away from her and stabbed it through her chest.
she freed you.
you were no longer a slave to the kingdom.
you'll purse your lips, resigning yourself to a new goal. you were going to get revenge for everything they'd ever done to you, to momo, to all 30 of the original kids that they orphaned. and you would dance, imagining momo dancing with you. you should've told her you thought she'd be the most brilliant dancer to have ever breathed.
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honeycrispappletree · 5 months ago
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ivy // hajime iwaizumi ♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚.
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masterlist
part 4: when you sleep
by: my bloody valentine
‘Me taking a body shot off of you is NOT. EVEN. GAY.’
Yn giggles as she passes through the kitchen, overhearing Bokuto’s pleads to let him try a body shot off of Kuroo. He shoves his phone into Kuroos face, trying to convince him they could go viral. The word viral peaks his interest, but he quickly brings himself back down to earth and shakes his head in refusal. Next to them is Lev and Kageyama, trying to mix pre-workout and vodka. Kageyama takes a sip,
‘it’s lowkey not even bad man’
Lev scrambles to try it, he quickly regrets it, hiding the disgusting taste on his tongue, shuddering and forcing it down.
‘yeah..aghh.. totally!!!’
Yn scrunches her nose at the foul looking creation and stumbles over to the living room, where Oikawa is drunkenly trying to teach Akaashi guitar. 
‘This is a C’ Oikawa explains as he strums, but he isn’t really strumming. He is slowly dragging his thumb down the strings, each one ringing and stopping before the next one starts.
Akaashi sighs in frustration. ‘You just said that was an A Oikawa’. He looks up from the guitar with an offended expression,
‘ Don’t LIE  on my name’ He spits with venom in his voice, before turning his attention back to the guitar and smiling as he plays random chords.
She heads over to Iwaizumi, who is watching volleyball on the couch. She laughs to herself at his lonely state.
‘You are SUCH a loser’ she grins as she takes a seat next to him. Her thigh slightly touching his makes Iwaizumi’s stomach twist. ‘Sitting alone at a PARTY’ she eggs on as she grabs the abandoned solo cup on the table infront of her and takes a sip.
‘This is not a party at all’ Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and scoffs in a playful way. He gazes at her, studying the way she bites her lip after she sips her drink, the way she always does. Not that he notices her habits or anything.
‘Drinks and people is a party’ she returns, mocking his scoff dramatically. He respond with ‘tch’ noise, looking back at the TV. The sounds of guitar and volleyball commentators fill the silence. It’s comfortable. Yn twirls her wrist around and swishes the mystery drink around in the cup. She focuses on the way it rises to the rim of the plastic, about to pour over and spill, before she freezes her wrist and it crashes with an impact back down to the bottom of the cup.
‘Haji’ she whispers, her wasted grin dissapearing as she turns to look him in the eyes. The seriousness of her expression makes Iwaizumi nervous. His eyes widen a little in concern as she stares at him dead on. He tries to say something, but it’s like he’s in a trance.
She narrows her eyes as she looks deeply into his. They’re green. Not like spring grass, that feels smooth and lush. That you can lay in and gaze up at a clear sky. More like dark pine needles, that are soft to the touch but can pierce you if you aren’t careful. That collapse and fall to the ground when slightly shook.
After a few seconds of dead serious silence, her lips break into a curve and she turns her head away as she starts laughing. Iwaizumi rolls his head back and falls against the back of the couch, relieved he dodged confrontation.
‘You are not fucking funny’ He covers his face with his hands and groans. There’s a slight smile hidden behind his palms, that he makes sure is hidden from her sight.
‘I’m sorry, did I make you nervous?’ She giggles, acting a fool.  He takes his hands off his face and stares up at the cieling.
‘Vodka doesn’t make you drunk, it makes you cruel’ He quiped.
She shook her head at the remark. She placed down the drink and moved back to lay her head on his shoulder. She could feel his body stiffen for a moment, before his shoulders dropped back to a relaxed position. 
‘Sorry’ she smiled. She brought her knees to her chest and crossed her arms, leaning into him more.
‘I won’t hold it against you’ He spoke in a soft tone back to her. He held his breath, trying not to move a muscle as she grabbed his hand to fiddle with his fingers and trace figures in his palm.
‘AWWW that’s so cute, you guys should really-‘ Oikawa started to coo until Akaashi smacked the back of his head. 
‘ Do you ever shut up?’ he shakes his head. Oikawa looks at him shamefully and rubs the back of his neck while muttering,
‘Bitch…’
Iwaizumi gives Akaashi an appreciative nod. He returns the gesture and goes go back to strumming the guitar. It starts to fade out into nothing as he looks back to yn, whose eyes are starting to close. His fingers are now loosely held between her hands.
As she drifts off to sleep, all yn can see is a vinyl spinning around and around, softly playing music.
All Iwaizumi can see is her.
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more!
kuroo did infact let bokuto do it
it ended up on the barstool
iwaizumi woke up before yn and did everything in his power to not wake her up
he knows her coffee order by heart OF COURSE
he knows oikawas too but he will never admit that
akaashi actually picked up guitar quick #multitalented
kageyama had a crisis in the morning bc he remembered he is a professional athlete and can not be mixing pre workout and vodka casually
akaashi ships it
taglist: @eggyrocks @v1oletfury @stagemanagerchronicles @iluvmang @nitasplace
a/n: i have so much respect for just only written fanfic writers ITS SO HARD i cannot write at all. that took me so long. A GROWINGGG TAG LIST REPLY OR MESSAGE TO BE ADDED! i woke up this morning with 90 notes and i actually screamed TY FOR ALL THE LOVE!!
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jeansplaytoy · 1 year ago
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“Ain’t shit.” - c.springer
(part two here.)
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part 1
when you and your toxic ass boyfriend, connie get into what seems to be your final argument.
mentions of cheating, cursing, n word being used, afrolatino/lightskin!connie ;), angst?, toxicity.
^y’all i have no idea why the words r bunched up if y’all see that. lmao
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“don’t start wit’ that bullshit, y/n.” connie said, walking through the house while you followed him— with the bullshit.
“nah, because why everytime i go out, it’s another hoe screaming ‘bout how she fucked you whenever? you know what? i’m done wit’cho ass.” you followed him to the kitchen. it was exactly what it seemed too, everyday, another woman was talking to her friend about how connie did this and that to her, and you just wasn’t really having it.
“bro, what is you talkin’ bout? i ain’t fucked nobody since i been wit’ you.” he paused. “but you” he said, stopping by the sink and leaning on it, letting his head hang a little to huff at your words. “well that’s not what them hoes say.” you put your hands on your hips as you stood all the way across from him, on the other side of the island counter. one thing you weren’t gonna do, is let no man play you. ever. he can hit once and leave, but if a relationship comes into the picture then you take that shit seriously, and right now it seemed like his ass really didn’t care.
“you buggin.” he laughed to refrain his self from getting mad at you, but you were irking his nerves. like, for real. “oh i’m buggin’? connie, that’s what you always say when i catch you in a damn lie.” you tilt your head in a ‘wtf are you talking about’ way.
“so you gone listen to some random hoes on the street instead of me?” he crossed his arms. “yes, nigga cause’ you always doin’ something you ain’t got no business.” and that’s when you started walking over to him. his eyes followed you as he kept his attention on you. “now if i were to go around fucking on yo friends you’d be mad right?” you said before nudging his head. he rubbed the side of his head before looking at you.
“hell yeah i’d be mad, cus you always finding a way to piss me off when i don’t be doing shit to you. always believing what other females gotta say.” he shook his head before walking off. “man, stop acting like a bitch sometimes.” he mumbled under his breath while walking off.
you looked at him and narrowed your eyes. “what?”
it wasn’t like he was calling you a bitch, but that word being used in a sentence where he was referring to, and talking to you? no.
“chill out ma, you keepin’ up all that noise.” he said before sitting on the couch and propping his leg up. you stared at him for a minute before slowly nodding. “get the fuck out.” you pointed towards the door. he looked at you for a few seconds before laughing. “what?”
“i said, get out.” you repeated yourself.
connie looked at you again before his smile slowly dropped, but not into a sad face. this time, you really pissed him off. “ ‘t fuck?” he frowned. “oh, what? you don’t think i’m dead serious about what the fuck i’m saying?” you tilted your head. “since you wanna go with other bitches, go with em. go live with em. do whatever you want, we done.” you said before scoffing.
connie stared at you before standing up. “that’s yo problem. you believe everything everybody say. you too pretty to be acting this damn stupid.” he mumbled while standing in front of you. you looked towards the ground to avoid any further conversation with him.
“you think i wanna do this?” you asked. “hell yeah.” he said while tilting his head back a little. you looked up at him. “i hate yo ass. you make me sick.” you said before pushing him away from you and walking upstairs.
you weren’t being completely serious. you didn’t hate connie. but you hate how he acted everytime you got into an argument about another woman.
“how? cause you never did that crazy shit. you never went through my phone, asked about my female friends, if i even got any. but you tryna accuse me of cheating on you. ma, you know how dumb you sound?” he frowned while following you upstairs.
“connie just get out, for real.” you shook your head. “nah, what’s the problem? i thought you was all big.” he said while walking into your room where you sat on your bed. “leave me alone.” you exhaled. “and get out.”
he looked at you before nodding. “okay.” he said, grabbing only his charger as his phone was placed in his pocket. you looked at him. “get all yo’ shit, connie, you not coming back over here.” you frowned as you followed him back down the stairs. “connie, i’m so fuckin serious, get yo shit from upstairs.” you pointed behind you as you grabbed his arm to turn him around.
“i’ll come get my shit when i feel like it.” he mumbled before opening the door and slamming it behind him. you stared at it for a while before locking it and walking back over to your couch, sitting down.
“hoe.” you mumbled to yourself.
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yes the theme changed!
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onyaki · 2 years ago
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"such a needy boy"
c. strife
such a needy boy who won't let his needs be met. he's a boxer and you're his doctor. physical therapy, bruises, cuts, gashes, you take care of whatever he asks for. usually he doesn't ask he just barges right into your clinic asking for you to fix him up. one night after one of his matches you notice he doesn't come in. you can clearly see from the stands that he's injured. bruises and a bloody nose, yet he refuses to have you help him by never coming in. but he's too easy to read.
"cloud." you ring his phone, after his coach called to make sure he had come in after his match, as his coach said he seemed unusually distant, seems to have something on his mind.
"why'd you call, you have no reason too." he's just getting out the shower, his hairs wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. he's sore, not supposed to be though he didn't go to physical therapy with you like he was supposed to.
"whaaat, I can't call a patient? im joking. you didn't come in today and your coach called me to make sure if you did and I had to tell him no. you've never missed a day what's wrong?" you tease him and he has a internal reaction, face heating up just slightly, muscles tense just a bit.
"no response? reacting in the way you don't like?" as his doctor you're supposed to study his reactions he's felt like this before and hates the reaction his body gives.
"anyway. come over, you're beat up I need to make sure nothing's broken. your coach will kill me if you come in too hurt tomorrow for practice."
"right now?" he finally says something.
"yes right now. who cares how late it is, don't come to the clinic come to my place. I cleaned up just for you, it's nice over here promise." your place is nice, the tv speakers playing music low, the low hanging lights above you island just dimmed enough to see the counter. the dim accent lights from your room making the entrance to your room visible.
"just come over. I need to examine you, make sure nothing's broken."
"alright." he's already gotten his clothes on, right when you told him he could come over he'd dropped his phone on the bed, putting you on speaker, listening to your voice from afar.
"I'll see you soon cloud."
he shows up at your front door, soaking wet.
"it's raining? and you walked? why didn't you have your driver take you?"
"why? im capable of walking aren't I?"
"you are. you're a boxer capable of many things. I'll get you a change of clothes, feel free to shower I'll get you towel."
"thank you."
"we're doing manners today? you never say thank you." your voice disappearing into the hall as you grab a towel. "what's going on with you today? got something in your mind?" you walk back up to him with a change of clothes, a towel and a rag. "don't smell like ass, I won't examine you like that."
shit, he thought. he's been feeling a little needy all day. he even let himself get beat up during his match. so you had to touch him, you are his doctor, you fix him, bandage him, but there's plenty of other things you could do for him.
"needa get my head out of the gutter." he mumbles to himself.
"hm?" you tease, knowing whatever he just said wasn't for you to hear. "the bathroom is the second door down the hall, I'll be waiting on the couch." cloud walks past you his towel and clothes in hand, and you make your way over to the couch.
--
"done?" he came out with his towel on his head to dry his hair. you get up from the couch, walking towards your kitchen counter.
"yeah."
"sit on the counter."
"why there?"
"it's so much easier to examine you when you're not sitting where I have to work 10 times harder to even look at you. so just sit here. plus id rather be able to talk to you as well rather than just examine you, and talking to you while your on the ground is weird makes me think you're dead," you laugh a bit, and he smiles slightly.
"so, what hurts?" you question before touching.
"nothing."
"if nothing hurts I wouldn't be a doctor. now what hurts."
"my back," he sighs not wanted to admit his pain
"and..?"
"my chest."
"annnndd..?"
"that's it I swear, that's where I mostly I got hit today." he shifts in his spot, fidgeting a bit.
"your match was looked a little, off I guess I don't know how to describe it."
"I let myself get hit."
"you wanted to see me that bad?" you question, teasing a bit. he's quiet. "im joking, don't be cold and take your shirt off,"
he pulls his shirt off and as your about to touch he stops you grabbing your wrist, and pulling you closer to him. "you really don't know why im here, would any of your other patients really come over just to get an examination?"
"I don't know any who would," the two of you almost as close as you can be, your waist pressing on the counter between his legs, you wrist being pulled by cloud, and your faces so close together that you could've kissed him. "but I also don't know any of my patients who are as needy as you are. you don't think ive realized how needy you are whenever you come in? you sit down and you do everything you can to make me be touchy and teasing."
"the whole point was for you to notice." he closes the distance between you and him, touching on your waist, slipping his hands under your shirt to feel some skin.
"such a needy boy." you tease, and he lets go of your wrist, putting both hands on your waist. he leans in, kissing your neck, nipping at the skin. you squirm in his hands, almost asking for more.
"admit it, admit how needy you are."
"I really need to admit it after kissing your neck like that?"
you get close to his ear, grining. "yeah, that's what I want." your voice gets breathy, and he gets touchier. "talk to me, tell me how needy you are."
"hm, i'm not one to just tell you." he says leaning in to kiss your neck. he takes your hands putting them around his neck. as your hands rest he leans in a little more, kissing your neck even more. covering you in bruises just like the ones he has on his chest from his matches. "you look good bruised. we should switch places one day, im sure id be a good doctor"
you attempt to bite back but he hikes up your shirt. "bite down." unfortunately for you, your tough act falls down and you do as he says. with your shirt in your mouth you stuggle to whimper and moan, his cold hands slowly pawing around your body, you look him in the eyes with an annoyed look seeing how much he's teasing you "don't look at me like that, it's not my fault you tease me so much," he whispered.
you let go of your shirt, whimpering a little from his touch. "it is your fault, you're so easy to tease."
"am I still easy to tease as im touching and kissing you all over?"
"a little less easy,"
"yeah? well im about to make it a lot harder." he pushes you off of him, getting down from the counter, tugging you back to him by your wrist, shoving you between him and the ledge of your counter. "don't touch there." you decided it would be a good idea to touch on his bruises, if he's gonna bruise and bite you, might as well return the favor.
"shit–" his voice breathy and his grip on you starting to loosen. "trying to kill me?" a sense of pain shocks him a bit, and an unexpected wave of pleasure. you take your hand palming at his dick. he huffs, his shoulders collapsing into you, his head resting on your shoulders.
"easy to tease, easy to pleas–!" he takes his hands, from your waist, trailing his hands to your cunt.
"if you're gonna be bogus, we'll both have to be a hot mess."
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luridon · 4 months ago
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Tedium
A story of a murderer and a man who can't die.
♡characters: yandere!regenerator x criminal!reader
♡warnings: MINORS DNI, blood, murder, captivity, masochism, unwanted and unrequited affection, gore, blood, violence, infantilization, black comedy, MINORS DNI
♡notes: setting with superhuman abilities, you aren't seeing much of that though lol
♡w/c: 1k+ | ♡masterlist♡
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You stay calm as you angle your wrist, then plunge the blade into his neck.
Silver slips through pale skin, drawing red as smoothly as a pen with crimson ink. The blood that spills is so unremarkable you're almost annoyed. Hue, temperature, viscosity- every element no different from any other's. It would be lovely if its owner were just as normal.
Unfortunately, Raphael only blinks.
He tips his head despite the deeper tear the action makes, looking up at you through long lashes flecked with spots as red as his eyes.
His hand curls around yours. His hold is of a gentleness that you register as innate rather than weakness from blood loss, much to your disappointment. With a single, quick yank, he draws the foreign object from his neck, blood gushing over both your fingers.
It takes mere moments for the torn, stained skin to stitch smoothly together. A few more moments, and he laughs, his throat and its vocal chords already whole.
The blood on your hand paints his lips like rouge when he kisses it.
You hate his smile, the unbroken lips and the teeth complete in shape and number. You hate his face, every inch of skin and blood vessel still reflecting all the ethereal, spotless beauty of a marble statue's.
"It was a good try," he says cheerily, and you hate his voice too, so unaffected by your little act.
You want to punch him, but even doing so with the scissors between your fingers would only leave a mark on you. You sigh, hand going limp, the blades dropping.
You are so sick of this.
You turn to leave, only to be grabbed and dragged onto a lap. "Oh don't be like that, it was cute!"
You simper, leaning close and smiling sweet. "You'd be cuter dead."
"I can pretend again, if you'd like."
Your smile falls as ungracefully as dead fish. Your face turns back to one of irritation and disgust.
He had played dead weeks ago. The little hope that soared in your chest as he lay motionless on the floor lasted until you got the first doorlock open, whereupon he miraculously sprang back to life, declaring you heartless for leaving him on the ground. That had been the best sixteen minutes of your life.
Your fond recollection of that blissful quarter-hour is ruined by your unfortunate still-living seat shifting forward. You can feel the damp blood on his neck smear your shoulder and sleeve.
His lips brush against your cheek.
"Dearest," he mumurs tenderly.
"What?" you retort untenderly.
You can hear the laugh in the puff of air he exhales, yet another reminder of your failure. Damn regeneration. You curse his blood, his bones, his pumping heart and the lungs giving them air.
He twirls a lock of your hair around his finger. "Do you intend to cut my hair at all, or is only murder on the agenda today?"
Your hand reaches up to the top of his head and slides down, the stroke drawing a pleased little hum from him. His long, snowy locks slip through your fingers-
And you yank hard enough to hear a crack.
The position is uncomfortable, from the angle of his shadow. Disconcerting to most who'd catch even a passing glance. Wrong the way all snapped bones look wrong. And yet you find yourself counting.
And one, and two, and-
Another sharp crack ripples through the air as he snaps his neck back.
"Ouch," he says obligingly.
You release him and slump as you glare sullenly at the wall. His arms encircle your shrimped form, your arms dangling as you slouch and stare at nothing.
"Come on, you can make me bald again!"
"Once again. I was trying to lobotomize you."
"And you can do that again too!"
You glance back at him, unimpressed. He smiles brightly, the very image of an angel with his flowing hair and gentle eyes.
"You. Are a freak."
"And you," he cooes, "are adorable." He, of course, punctuates that with a playful bump of your nose with his own.
You lean away from him, breaking that small contact as though it matters when he's embracing you already. You resist the urge to spit at him, because he'd taken the last instance of it as an invitation to trade saliva through a messy, finesseless kiss. You had taken that as an invitation to clock him, which seemed to excite him more than the kiss had. Truly, there was no end to your suffering.
"Don't be so gwumpy, you really are cute, you know."
"Stop talking to me like a baby."
"How should I talk to you when you're acting like one?"
You shift your strength into your arms to hold his limbs tight to your body, and roll to the ground. He tumbles down with you, and you think you see him flinch from how he lands on the scissors. He's bleeding from somewhere as you shift him to his back, his half-cut hair fanning out behind him. With his light clothes and the red stains, it's like you're pinning a bloodied bird to the snow.
You tighten your grip around his neck, snarling. "How about you talk like someone about to die? How. Do I. Leave? "
He only grins at your tightening hold. You can feel the heat creeping up his neck, see the blood coloring his cheeks. Kinky bastard.
You drop him and stare at the door and its endless locks. The bio scan is easy enough- the man beneath you was all to glad to leave his DNA everywhere- but the other measures, now those were plaguing you. There was only so much lockpicking and thievery could accomplish with the sheer number and complexity of whatever puzzle hell that thing came from. If you had inhuman intelligence, you could have solved it. If your skill lay in metals or tech, perhaps that would help. If you were a pyromancer, maybe you could melt through. Alas, all you could do was inflict pain, and doors couldn't feel.
Fuck your power honestly. Good in combat? Usually. A quick distraction? Definitely. Useful for torture? Absolutely. Any help when stuck with a masochist in who-knows-where? Not. At. All.
You only pry your eyes from the door when you're pinned to the ground. Your captor looms above you, a knee between your thighs. The friction is as annoying as it is ineffective.
Raphael pouts at your empty stare. "I swear you love that door more than me, sometimes."
You clasp your hands together cutely under your chin. "I'd love if you opened it."
"Hmm. No, I don't think so."
You roll your eyes.
He sighs, fond. You're tempted to grab the scissors jutting from his thigh to stab his heart through his ribs, but that would only make one of you happy here.
He takes scissors and tosses them aside himself. A still-living body lays beside you. A bloodstained hand holds your own, and a head sticky with drying fluid leans against you as you stare at the ceiling.
"I hate you," you grumble, not for the first time.
"That's fine," he smiles, his breath warm, his fingers tight as you catch his gaze in the corner of your eye, saccharine and sickening.
"I love you anyway."
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♡a/n: i drew him
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silkkorchid · 8 months ago
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What went down in TWST rp in a week-
4/27 - 5/3
Things are going missing across the dorms I presume. (Better not fall to your death people)
Someone placed a cat spawner in every NRC dorm and probably at campus…
There was knock off version of the Great Seven in anime…
NRC Book Club, Trystia, has became one with nature.
NRC Book Club seems to be setting up Trystia for something ~
The rebellion against Crowley failed, and Lucius got ban from NRC. MAY HE SNEAK BACK IN!
A beef between @royalswordacademyconfession 🐰 got beef with @nrc-therapist .
RSA confession mod 📖 got a boyfriend! (Meanwhile us single pringles are just looking at the lovebirds)
⬇️
Nvm mod 📖’s boyfriend died…
It’s confirm, Crowley cannot use technology correctly.
Crowley disown one of his children.
Lucius (@lucius-official) made bbq fish fillets, I wonder how it would taste like.
Lucius is dressed up fancy~
Professor Crewel is allergic to cats, and a cat pushed him off.
Hedgehogs are gone from Heartslabyul. Well, everyone there is gonna have their heads off.
Trey didn’t realize there was an uprising against Crowley, so he kinda in disbelief.
Trey loosing his shit thanks to someone placing a Cat Spawner.
Trey’s sanity is on a thread that can easily break at any given moment-
Deuce got addicted to coffee now…
Deuce made someone to a size of a doll since he dropped a cauldron on them.
Deuce became an egg-
Cater and Vil getting somewhat along??? What did I missed there?
Cater cheesed Professor Crewel, he dead…
Ruggie being a taste tester for the 1st years of Diasomnia.
Ruggie lied about his age several times during to being looking young, which he took advantage to it.
Azul being embarrassed by the leak baby photos that been going on.
There is two Azul now. Oh dear…
Kalim at it buying random stuff but, this time is… bird seed?
Another Jamil came, and he isn’t too happy knowing he got a child despite being busy…
Vil being disappointed in people, classic.
Vil being shocked there is a Cat Spawner and hoping it was in a Minecraft server, it wasn’t..
Vil on the look out of Epel eating something that he shouldn’t have.
Idia got Arlecchino, but the cost is the fact he is now broke-
Idia loosing his mind with cat photos.
Someone called Idia a walking campfire.
Malleus got another child.?
Malleus got turned into a cat box-
Silver still being a decent person in NRC
Silver had been buried from several cats.
Cheka is gonna break Ruggie’s back soon.
Cheka got grounded for playing a long “hide and seek” game…
Che’nya(@your-local-grinning-cat) wants to adopt Gidel
Mr. Rosehearts is disappointed in Ms. Rosehearts’ actions. + his son in his current family is top 3 in RSA.
Yuu got a bear. Nice 👍
Grim trying to show off that he can read and write(more over type) but failing a bit…
A pomefiore student (@pomefiorestudent-a)made their debut! Enjoy this recognition for being here.
Castor(@castaway-achlys) and Atamai (@atamai-twst) are having beef with each other..?
@blind0raven is going to murder someone…
Castor cannot do laundry.
@quartztwst in jail.
quartztwst being accused of several crimes
It’s confirm, @the-possum-of-rsa is in Sebek’s walls majority of the time-
Althea and Aclestris came back after a very long nap or break???
@jaytoonarchives is hosting a party at Ramshackle! And the children are invited…
@comediano-o got catnip, better keep it away from Lucius and Grim…
R. C. and Yuu is planning to prank Crowley within his office.
Atami got Trystia as his date for prom!
B0njourbeach showed that Leona is bald without his wig.
B0njourbeach is making cursed photos of NRC students…
Serena(@imafrealinrainbow478484), don’t use the decay incantation…
-
“Armaros here, I would like to remind you all that this series just has one person involved. So if you think that 🍮 missed something, tell her and she will probably put it in a reblog post. Ok, I’m gonna go now. You will see me later on.” -💫💤
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writing-bakugo · 2 years ago
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When You Know, You Know ~ Katsuki Bakugo
You experience a ton of firsts with Bakugo...including the moment you realized you wanted to marry him.
Warnings: self-conscious reader, Mitsuki does't like the reader
You? Yeah, you didn’t do change well. Back in high school, the first week of the semester you were often found in the bathroom puking up lunch. Something about change in the routine made your hairs stick up on your arms and your stomach eject its contents. 
You were dating for a week when Bakugo asked you to spend the weekend at his family’s home. Of course, you’d known Bakugo since freshman year in high school, but the sudden jump from giddy good morning text messages now that you were dating to “my shitty dad’s throwing a work party for my mom. On Saturday” was jarring. 
You didn’t know what to do. The thought made your mouth and throat hot and your head pale and sweaty. So, all week you interrogated your friends. Kirishima was first, obviously. 
“But like we haven’t been dating for long, Ei. Going to his parents? That's a big step...that's like you date for a year and then...you know?”
“He probably didn’t even think about it like that. It’s fine.”
Kaminari said, “yeah he’s an idiot. Don’t go. It’s only been a week.”
Then there was “OH MY GOSH! You HAVE to go” Mina. 
Thursday night arrived before you knew it. You gulped and decided to confess your anxiety to Bakugo. 
“That’s something extras care about,” Bakugo said. 
“I guess…” When it came to comfort, your boyfriend wasn’t exactly…tuned in. “I just—“
“Relax,” he huffed, “it’s only weird if you make it weird. My family isn't the kind of family to sweat that shit.”
Somehow the way his eyes were soft and pleading made you agree. Which is how you found yourself standing outside of Bakugo’s childhood home the next night with a backpack slung over your shoulder. 
“Katsuki brought a girl?!” Mitsuki couldn’t believe her eyes. Her son had a girlfriend?! And didn’t mention anything?! “Where’s Kirishima?”
“Who cares,” Bakugo huffed. He dragged you upstairs to his childhood room and you couldn’t help but giggle at the three All Might figurines sitting on his desk. 
“Who didn’t love All Might?” You asked aloud before the door slammed open. 
Mitsuki stood in a fit of steam and yelled, “I’m taking her, Katsuki!”
“Like hell you are, hag!” Bakugo yelled right back. 
But you found yourself standing in a spare room. It was large. Fabric strewn everywhere and clothes hung on racks. You didn't know what to say to Mitsuki, so you responded robotically with one-word answers.
Mitsuki wasn't impressed.
“It’s a work party,” Mitsuki said, “we work in the fashion industry so…let’s get you something to strut around in.”
You weren’t Mitsuki’s definition of worthy for her son. You weren’t drop-dead gorgeous like the models she worked with and you definitely didn’t have the personality she saw fit for Bakugo. 
In her eyes, Bakugo needed someone just as spit-fire as him. Of course, if she thought about it for too long, she might've seen the resemblance between her and Masaru and you and Bakugo. But to her? Bakugo needed a woman who wouldn't take his shit.
Your one-word agreements were entirely way too bland.
And when she made you try on a designer dress, one that she said she’s been working on for four months, you couldn’t help the knots that formed in your stomach. You’d never worn anything this…expensive before. Honestly, it draped on the ground and you thought it fitting for a modeling show.
Mitsuki frowned. “It’s too small for you.”
That struck a chord. You awkwardly laughed and tried to play it off. "Oh you're right!"
"You know, if you dieted I'm sure we could get this in you within aa month."
You knew she probably didn’t mean much by it. She was so used to being surrounded by starving models it probably was just a new experience for her too. You had a body carved of muscles and scars—not one that would ever see itself on the runway.
Plus, there’s no way she would’ve known an off-handed comment about your weight would’ve made you nauseous. 
She made you put on multiple dresses before you landed on one that you could squeeze into. By the time you were done, you’d felt completely out of steam and just wanted to curl up with Bakugo. 
Sure, you weren’t what Mitsuki had in mind for her son. But you were a pro and you had the body that came with the job. Same as Bakugo. 
The party was a similar train wreck. You were in an event center that you’d only seen on TV. Models galore draped themselves on a feral Bakugo. Steam erupted from his ears once, and you thought one of them was going to flop over dead. They didn’t stop coming onto him until he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. 
The contact made your stomach flutter. He’s never held you like this before. His hot breath tickled against that scar on your neck (the one you received in a battle oversees in Manhattan) and he rubbed circles on your hip. 
You ate food you’d never heard of and drank cocktails you didn’t know existed. The entire time, Bakugo clung to you like a koala on a tree and glared at anyone who came too close. 
Then it was over. People streamed out of the event center and Bakugo dragged you to his car. 
“That shit gets harder every damn time," he grumbles under his breath before you were driving back to his childhood home. 
You were ecstatic when Mitsuki and Masaru left you both alone when they arrived home. It was 1 am in all fairness, and you wanted out of the tight dress. But you couldn't lift your arms past your collar bone, let alone try to twist around to unzip the clingy fabric.
"Katsuki," you whispered and stared at the ground, "can you uh...can you help me out?"
His fingers on your back sent shivers down your spine and the butterflies in your stomach took to the air and scorching saliva drenched your mouth when you pushed him away and ran to the bathroom. 
“The fuck?” He chased after you and stopped when you keeled over the toilet. Bakugo rolled his eyes and crossed him arms, watching as you unloaded all the expensive and unholy hors d’oeuvres into the toilet. 
It made you squirm even more with his crimson eyes beating against you like a falcon when you retched. The pressure built up in your eyes and nose and your throat seared when tears and bile dribbled into the toilet. 
“I think my mom has some nausea pills. Want one?”
“No,” you gasped and sat back in your feet. “Sorry, I just…I need to brush my teeth and lay down.”
After a few seconds, you pulled yourself up and rinsed your mouth before reaching for your toiletry bag and tugging out your toothbrush and toothpaste. 
Bakugo grunted and grabbed his toothbrush, pulled out his phone and set a timer for two minutes. 
“DIE! DIE!” Bakugo yelled in the mirror and you watched with wide eyes, your toothbrush falling limp in your mouth. “DIE! Fucking germs!”
Your laughter graced his ears and he piqued an eyebrow at you. 
Before you realized it, you were saying, “I want to brush my teeth with you everyday, Katsuki.”
The declaration made both your faces beet red. It was so simple and comforting, standing next to Bakugo while he yelled at his teeth. It was so…him. Watching him brush his teeth was the most Bakugo thing you witnessed since you started dating that even though it was so new, it was something you wanted to do with him always. 
Something your friends always told you popped in your head when you stared at him while he gnawed on his toothbrush:
"When you know, you know. You'll understand later."
You could marry him right here with spit on your chin and a fury in his eyes. You would wear this designer dress hanging off your shoulders and he'd wear his sweats and that was the moment you knew.
This was a type of intimacy you'd never experienced.
And that was a change that made you truly happy.
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starshinesama · 1 year ago
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✦ In such a lonely world, how I wished to see you again. ✦
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Your pleas were heard.
Authors note: this takes place after any regular sagau fic, (probably imposter au). Reader is Gender-Neutral but B/N is an implied she/her :]
༄ CW: loneliness, cultish themes, angst (with comfort)
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Part 1 | Part 2
- POV: after being so lonely in Tervat, - you meet someone from your world, - stranded, like you.
Another meaningless day.
You walked on the streets of inazuma
If you hadn't been in this world for as long as you've been, you probably would have been more excited
To see the Sakura tree's blooming, the petals falling and flowing with the wind.
To taste the local cuisine (your mouth watering specifically for the Dango and Unagi Chazuke).
And you probably would have fell to the floor in laughter, seeing the Oni Arataki Itto lose an onikabuto match to a (literal) child
But..
It's been so long since you held that excitement in your eyes
At least it seemed so ever since that happened.
Don't get you wrong!! You still loved genshin impact, you loved the elements, the way everything seemed so alive!
But it was just so lonely
Especially with everyone around you treating you like they were below you
Your blood was gold sure, You had the power to heal living beings with your sacred blood And you just so happened to be a genshin addict that spent almost all their free time playing the game back home.
But even so..
. ⁺ . ✦ 
"-your grace?" you were brought back to reality with an unpleasant jolt
"YIKES!! You scared me half to death geez.." "ah- my apologies, your grace" ...
You sigh, you insisted that they call you by your name, but they persist on calling you by your "proper title" it just never felt right
"... are you perhaps feeling unwell- [name]?" "No, it's nothing, im fine Zhongli"
(You came to Inazuma to try and clear your mind but your acolytes insisted that you brought atleast one of them with you)
The Geo archon still seemed concerned but eventually stopped trying to nag you after a while
And you were brought back to that pit of loneliness
Well you were
Until an ear splitting screech coming from Ritou Harbor nearly makes you deaf.
Wait...t-that voice! You'd recognize that annoying screech anywhere. Against your better judgment you start sprinting towards the harbor!
You hear Zhongli panicking, trying to say something but you can't hear him, maybe that scream DID make you deaf, it's like the whole world was being muted out, the only thing you can hear being the thumping of your heart as you run.
It couldn't be.. right?
You were sure you got isekaid here all alone..
That is until
"HEY! Ugh get off me!! I WILL meet my husbando-!!"
You stop dead in your tracks
"Uagh- stop thrashing will you! your causing a ruckus!!" The Kanjou Commission guard exclaimed, trying to wrestle down the girl.
You feel tears prickling your eyes
"H-hey- [Name]?! Is that you?!"
Your eyes widen and your jaw drops
No way..
"B-B/N?! What?!?-" but your cut off with the sound of B/N falling to the ground
"Uhm a little help here?" The guard finally managed to tackle down your best friend, huffing with pride somehow still not noticing you..
"Hey you."
_
You can imagine the guards shock when he saw the creator, THE creator stand before him, seething with malice
Infact, He was so shocked that he fainted.
"Uhm.. do you think he's gonna be ok?" You both kinda just stand there for a moment, not knowing what to say, before you suddenly run towards B/N, knocking you both down in a hug
ah, your starting to cry again
"I- I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!" you choke back a sob
B/N just looks at you confused, before eventually hugging you back, sighing
"I missed you too.. dumbass"
You both laugh, crying, ignoring the stares your getting from the people around you (their not judging though, I mean who would dare judge the almighty creator?)
Eventually you both calm down enough to have a proper conversation
"So.. how did you get here? "
looks like you'll have a lot of explaining to do.. ␥✮
___
Helloo! This is my first sagau fic so i hope yall like it, i might write a prequel to how Reader got here or a one shot about B/N if this goes well, comment to be tagged in the next chapter!
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paperweight91 · 9 months ago
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🔥
My love, the one the only JOHNNY STORM.
Sorry I got so far behind on this the words were there…they just wouldn’t come out!
The Heat of the Moment, Showed in Your Eyes
Pairing: Johnny Storm x reader (Cutter)
Warnings: makeout sesh, discussions of hunting people.
W/C: 751
A/N: the next in our line of teases for We’re All Monsters! I’m kind of in love with these two! Please send me all the feedback! Reblogs and comments are a form of love ❤️
You filed your nails and huffed one more time as you sat in the passenger side of the blacked out SUV. Cole sat beside you rolling his eyes.
“Is there a particular reason why we are sitting in the middle of a field, in the middle of nowhere Cutter?” He was squinting as he looked over at you.
“Maybe you should ask less questions, and do more of what you’re told, huh?” Why had Steve made you take Cole? Anyone else would have been better than him.
You checked your watch. He was late…again. Of course those wolves never had any regard for your time, your life. Sure you were undead, but your time was still precious.
Before you could pull your phone out to call and see what was going on, you distantly heard the rev of a sports car. You sighed and went back to filing your nails.
“It’s like he’s trying to draw attention to himself, Jesus.” You mumbled.
Cole stepped out of the SUV and you followed, you couldn’t let him interact with Ari’s crew too much. They would see him as a weakness for Steve. As soon as you stepped out you felt your fangs drop. The scent of fresh blood hung in the air.
Johnny stepped out of the bright red corvette, a smirk on his face and a wink to you.
“Hey Dollface, Ari said you guys would just love these two.” It was then you saw a few other wolves from Ari’s pack that you vaguely recognized pulling two humans from one of their blacked out SUVs.
You recognized them both on sight, and heard Cole give a small whimper. You rolled your eyes and licked your lips. These two hunters had been after Steve - and by proxy you and Cole for years. A few years ago they had almost got Cole.
“You make it sound like you’re doing us a favour Storm.” You glared at Johnny, your hands on your hips.
Johnny simply smiled and motioned for the two other wolves to place the humans in the back of your SUV. “Cutter and I need to sort out what our payment will be. Wait here.” Johnny winked at you and turned to walk towards the tree line nearby.
You glanced at Cole and growled out a “Stay here.” Before following after the hot headed man.
Once you both were out of eyesight and earshot, the air around you both changed. Johnny had you pushed up against the nearest tree, his thigh between yours. You moaned and ground down against him while searching for his mouth.
He tsked and pulled further away. “C’mon now Cutter, you know we actually do have to talk about payment here.”
You rolled your eyes, “how bout I suck you off and we all go our merry ways.”
Johnny huffed, “I’m sure Ari would love to know that.” You smirked and ran your nails down his back just how he liked. “He wants Steve to give him open hunting on the East Coast for this.”
Those words stopped you dead. You knew Steve would never agree to that, not ever, and certainly not for Ari. “So your boss has completely lost his mind.”
Johnny gave you a sad smile, “I don’t know Cutter, I really don’t.”
You twisted your mouth thinking about what Steve’s counter would be. “Steve’s offered payment is an open hunting for the next week, in the Boston area.”
At that Johnny extricated himself from you fully. “We already have open hunting in the Boston area, babe. Ari’s not gonna go for it.”
You shrugged and slipped your knife from your inside pocket. “That’s his offer, take it or leave it.”
You played with the point to distract yourself from Johnny’s gaze. “You gotta be able to sweeten the deal at least a little?”
When you glanced up you saw Johnny giving you his puppy dog eyes. You admired him for a moment, from his barely there hair, to his bright blue eyes, down his slender nose to his plump lips. “Fine, the East Coast for the next week. But only the next week, after that you’re all back to your farm fresh diet.”
Johnny beamed and pulled you into his arms. The two of you stood rocking to a song only you both seemed to know. Johnny kissed the top of your head and murmured an “I love you” into your hair. You sighed and whispered an “I love you too” into his neck.
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noblest-roman-of-them-all · 2 months ago
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Blood Trail
"We might have a problem here!" Chris called out from where he was crouched on the ground.
"What is it?" Martin asked. He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder as he knelt beside him.
Chris pointed to a fern coated in slick red. "That's blood. And if we're right about elk poachers in the area..."
Martin nodded as his brother trialed off grimly. "We could have an injured elk on our hands."
"Or worse," Chris added.
"Well, all we can do is follow the trail and...deal with whatever's at the end of it when we get there."
---
"I have a really bad feeling about this," Chris muttered as they trudged through the woods, following blood splotches that stained the fallen leaves and undergrowth. "Elk are really big animals, the blood trail shouldn't be so compact."
Martin nodded. "I didn't want to mention it, but you're right. We're not tracking an elk."
"What do you think-" Chris heart stopped. "Oh no..."
"Aviva!" Martin nearly yelled over the coms as he ran to the body on trail ahead of them. "We need medical support to our location now!"
"Are you guys okay?" She demanded from his wrist.
"Zach's been shot," he answered shortly. He dropped to his knees and pressed his fingers against Zach's neck. "He has a pulse, but it's weak. Chris!" He barked, snapping his little brother out of his daze.
Chris jumped and stumbled to Zach's side.
"Help me get him on his back," Martin ordered. "We need to get pressure on the wound. We're gonna move him on three. Ready?"
Chris nodded and grabbed Zach by the hips while Martin held his head and shoulders stable.
Martin counted down and Chris froze and deep red that stain Zach's torn shirt and pale face.
"Here," Martin hastily stripped off his jacket folded it several times before passing it to his brother. "Put that over his shoulder and pressed down as a hard as you can."
Chris blinked and nodded as he accepted the jacket. He leaned heavily against Zach's shoulder, half expecting him to wake up screaming and cursing him. It was worse that he didn't.
---
Zach sighed when he woke. It was nice to be back in his cozy bed after being stuck in the stupid forest with the stupid bugs and the stupid- He frowned, trying to recall how he got here. The last thing he remembered was coming into the clearing and-
His eyes snapped open at the memory, the unbearable heat that tore through his shoulder. The terror as he ran, bleeding all over himself as he was chased down. Flinging himself into the underbrush and playing dead in hoped the hunters would give up and not actually kill him.
He groaned loudly as the wound in his shoulder made itself known and he glanced around, trying to figure out where he was.
He screamed in alarm when the the door pushed in.
"He's awake!" A voice called out.
"Chris?" He asked as the younger Kratt rushed to his side. "What are you doing here? W-where am I?"
"You're in the hospital. Martin and I found you tracking down some poachers."
"Excuse me. Hi, I'm Aaron, I'm the nurse on shift right now. If you're feeling up to it, I'm gonna go over some stuff with you about your injury and treatment."
Zach nodded. "C-can Chris stay?"
"Absolutely. As long as your okay with that, that's totally fine."
Zach did his best to pay attention, but every new thing he was told seemed to push his mind farther away from reality. Talk of pain management, blurred into surgery, blurred into possible permanent joint damage. He wasn't sure how long had passed before he realized Chris was the only one with him again.
"Back with me?" He asked gently.
"I'm fine," Zach snapped and jerked his hand away. Chris sat back and Zach immediately regretted his decision. "Sorry," he mumbled after an awkward beat.
Chris just offered a pained sort of smile. "It's okay. I can't imagine... You're dealing with a lot right now. I'd be upset too."
"How did you guys find me?" Zach asked and for a brief moment it looked like Chris might start crying.
"I, um, found a blood trail. When I first saw it, I thought it was an elk, we'd been checking out reports of poachers in the area. I started getting kind of nervous because I realized the pattern was too close for it to be an elk and that's- that's when I saw you. Martin had Aviva call for help and we did our best to stop the bleeding. You were already unconscious at that point and Martin was worried about you going into shock. I probably would have just panicked if he weren't there to be honest. We had to life flight you out and even then...it was close."
"Well. Thanks for saving my life, I guess," Zach offered, drawing a chuckled out of Chris.
"You're welcome, but, uh, maybe let's not do that again."
"Are...you okay?"
"Apparently I threatened to punch one of the paramedics when they told me I couldn't go with you to the hospital. I don't remember that, but. Martin says it happened. I guess he told them I'd be able to help out with your medical history and that's why they let me on."
Zach arched a brow. "I don't know if I should be touched or concerned that you were threatening people for me."
Chris shrugged and rubbed his arm. "I was scared, you were dying. Even if I couldn't do anything...I didn't want you to be alone if...if something did happen. I mean I know we're not exactly friends anymore, but...I dunno. I wanted there to be at least someone who knew you there just in case."
"Was it really that bad?"
"You lost a lot of blood, Zach. Like, a lot. I honestly thought you might be dead already when we found you. They ended up having to give you blood while you were out because of it."
"Well. Thanks for staying with me." He tentatively offered his hand again and Chris smiled as he took it.
"You're welcome."
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siffrin-brainrot · 6 months ago
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"A picture of your Family. You hold tightly onto it, you hope to see them again one day...You hope they won't forget you."
[AU has been re-named and will be re-worked]
The AU starts when Bonnie runs away from Bambouche after having promised Nille to; "Run as far as you can and don't stop until you're somewhere safe." Bonnie has little time to rest as Time Craft is always nipping at their heels, costing them a few sleepless nights. After weeks of constant running, exhaustion finally catches up to them and their legs give out. Their body has no more energy left to run let alone walk, making it impossible to escape the Time Craft that was slowly creeping towards them. Not knowing what to do Bonnie in their desperation made a wish to be somewhere far away, a place where Time Craft could never freeze them, a safe place where they won't be able to break their promise to Nille.
Meanwhile in the Digital world a group of four strange Digimons travel across the land, doing odd jobs here and there. Nobody knows why they travel together and the group never answers either. But most assume that they are a newly formed group similar to the Royal Knight's and so reward them often with food or other items that they found, if possible.
Such is the case after they helped a Village of Piyomon who gave them food, the group decided to go to the nearby Beach and find a spot there to rest and enjoy their meal. But before they could do so they heard a dull 'thud' followed by a groan. One of the four went to investigate and quickly called the rest over.
Bonnie woke up to four strange creatures looking at them, at first they attacked them thinking it was a group of weird Sadnesses. After seeing that their attacks had no effect on these creatures, Bonnie tried to run away but was grabbed by a bear creature (Isabeau). The group questioned Bonnie about a lot of things only to soon realise that they weren't in fact a runaway Digimon but something called a "Human."
After a bit more back and forth, questions being answered by both groups, Bonnie revealed to the group that they had to flee from their home because of something called Time Craft that was freezing everything. Plants, animals, humans, their sister, they also revealed that they had been running for weeks from it. And when they did find a village or city to stay at to rest they had to leave soon after as Time Craft always caught up with them. After this their memory gets a bit foggy. They remember dropping to the ground, Time Craft coming closer, bright stars glowing above, the promise they made and then they were at the beach here.
Bonnie decided then and there that they had to go back home, they couldn't leave their sister frozen forever. The group decides to travel with them, to teach them about their world, the cultures and how to survive in the digiworld. The group doubted they could find a way home for Bonnie and even if they did, none of them could stand the thought of leaving them alone in a land frozen in time. (Not to mention that they would never let them fight a King that had so much power as to freeze a whole country! It was a death sentence and while most Digimons operate on the “Survival of the Fittest” mindset, most would never hurt an In-Training Digimon let alone leave them to die. And in their eyes Bonnie was an In-Training human, maybe soon to be Rookie.) 
But none of them said anything to Bonnie, not wanting to break them down with the gruesome thought that they had lost their home for sure and would return to nothing. So they all played along and on their adventure they grew closer to each other, they started to care for each other like family even when their adventure led them to many dead ends, they never let their spirit fall.
And then they started to notice weird things happening in their world, natural disasters that no Digimon had caused, continents splitting apart out of nowhere, Dark and aggressive Digimon appeared left and right and then the Eaters started to appear.
Creatures that once looked like weird blobby tentacles mushed together, turned to humanoid creatures who hungered for any sort of Data. Be it from other Digimons or the world itself.
Cikapmon (Odile) theorised that it might be linked to the King and the Craft that he used in the Human World. She explained that Time Craft might have found a rift into their home and is now dripping into it, seeing it as part of the so-called “Vaugarde” and trying to freeze it too. But for some reason instead of freezing the world it’s fusing with stray-data and causing the birth of the Eaters who with their data eating habit cause all this chaos, they had witnessed so far. And these Eaters won't stop until they either ate through the whole Digiworld, sating their endless hunger or the source of their birth, this being Time Craft has been deactivated which should make it easier to erase them from their world once and for all.
And so the gang decided that they had to breach the Barrier keeping their world separated so that they could confront the King and end his reign once and for all, freeing not only their world but also Bonnie's from the Time Craft and the Eaters.
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[More art to come for this AU.AU is renamed to "In Data and Worlds"
]
[Special thanks to @saturdaylemon for throwing this idea around with me, help with designs for the squad and generally letting me ramble about Digimon, I appreciate it!]
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joonggphilia · 1 year ago
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🩵🤍My Angel🤍🩵
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Pairing: Idol! Lee Know x Idol! Male Reader Genre: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff CW: mentions of unrequited love? A/n: I’m really excited about this ask. I adore descriptive writing so this was write up my ally. I think I should write a part 2 for this one <3 ———————————————————————
Music blasted, shoes squealed against the ground, mirrors fogged. Thunder was a new group in the industry and they were determined to rise to the top. Practices were intense, none stop, and one can be sure that the members were incredibly sore after. The music slowly faded making it so all that could be heard was the rigid breathing among the boys who were currently using the studio. “Get some water! That was the best run yet, I’m so proud of us. We deserve a win with this performance.” Said a (h/c) boy, as he sank to the floor. “M/n, are you sure.” Asked one of the members, taking a long sip from his water bottle. “I’m confident. You guys are amazing, and we worked for this.” M/n replied, a glowing smile painting his face. M/n was the proud leader of Thunder. He was well known in the industry for his unreal personality, and visuals. Sure there were people like Choi Yeonjun, the 4th gen it boy, or Wonyoung the it girl. M/n was the 4th gen angel. He was notorious for being pleasant and sweet to anyone who crossed his path. Another thing that was for sure was that he loved his members with all his heart. He was confident and commanded respect…..in a way they made your heart melt, of course.
———————————————————————
The day had finally come, Thunder had made their way up into the big leagues. They were just getting ready to head on stage for the showcase. The outfits for their concept were drop dead gorgeous. They wore white, lacy, formal wear with beautiful diamond jewelry. M/n makeup artist gave him a look that suited him extremely well. His face was glowing, almost as if he had cried. Around his pink dusted eyes was glitter and diamond gems. He looked so beautiful. M/n was popular with fans all around the world, but he was also popular with other idols. One person in particular, had fallen for his charm. That person was none other than Lee Know of Stray Kids. He got into the habit of frequently playing Thunder’s music in the background of his lives and bringing up how his bias was M/n. He couldn’t hide his smitten attitude anymore. “Minho, Thunder is about to perform. I’ll go watch with you if you’d like!” Recommended Bang Chan, leaving his corner of the dressing room to check in an all the members. “That’d be awesome. Let’s go.” Replied Lee Know, grabbing his hand and running backstage. The mad dash was worth it. Lee Know watched in awe as M/n glided across the stage. M/n was the main dancer in his group, but he was trained in ballet and contemporary. Thunder’s unique dance style got them a lot of attention. They had a more technical and contemporary feel to their choreography, unless the song called for something more high energy. “This is the best part!” Squealed Lee Know as he patted Bang Cahn’s shoulder. M/n walked to center stage and broke out into a set of fouettés. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Lee Know’s eyes never left his idol. He began to think to himself. Was M/n stay, a fan, did M/n know that he existed? His palms were sweaty, he really did like M/n a lot, but he had a feeling the feelings weren’t requited
——————————————————————— M/n was walking back to his dressing room when he suddenly felt a tap on the shoulder, causing him to turn around, only to make eye contact with the one and only Lee Minho! He froze up. “Uhm, hey. You looked really good out there, super impressive for a rookie group!” The brunette spoke, awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. M/n broke from his trance and began to bow, covering up his flustered face. “Thank you, it means a lot coming from a member of Stray kids!” M/n stated, bowing once more. Lee Know got butterflies hearing him say this. “Your a fan?” Lee Know asked, manifesting a yes. “Am I a fan? Of course I am! You guys are awesome, a huge inspiration of mine.” M/n chirped, a wide smile growing on his face. “Thanks, I’m glad we inspire you. You’re catching up to us pretty fast, I’m actually a big fan of Thunder.” Lee Know, stated, his chest puffy out with pride. This made M/n giggle “So it’s true! My fans always say you’re my biggest fan and that you guys are competing for that spot on my list.” This gave Lee Know a chance. “M/n, give me your number and that’ll prove I’m your biggest fan.” He bluntly asked. M/n didn’t say a word, just grabbed his phone and handed it to the grinning man before him, their finger tips brushing slightly. Lee Know set his contact on M/n’s phone as “Biggest Fan” to prove his point. “Can I see yours?” M/n asked holding his hand out for Lee Know’s phone. He took it and changed his contact, shutting it off and handing it back. “Let’s hang out sometime, Lee Minho.” M/n said, shaking the other male’s hand. “It’s a date, M/n L/n.” He sneered, causing both of them to blush and giggle.
———————————————————————
Once Lee Know got back to the dorms he checked his phone, only to drop it on his face when he read a small “hi” from a certain someone. The contact read -My Angel-
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artyandink · 11 months ago
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we could be more | dean winchester | 4
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Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.
SERIES MASTERLIST
CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO
“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.
”Why?” Sam asked.
”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.” 
“She has a headstone.” 
“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.” 
“It’s not about that.”
”Enlighten me then, Sam.” 
“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?” 
“Mhmm.”
”And after Dad it ju-just feels like the right thing to do.”
“It's irrational, is what it is.”
”Look, man. No one asked you to come.”
”Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that thing down.”
”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”
”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”
”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.” 
“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.
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We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name. 
“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”
”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean. 
“What?” 
“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded. 
“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.” 
“You hear that, Sam?” 
“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face. 
“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.” 
“Okay, so what are you thinking?” 
“Unholy ground.” 
“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded. 
“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?” 
“Yeah, b-“
”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.” 
“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”
“So?” 
“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?” 
“What else would it be about?” 
“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.
“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.” 
“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled. 
“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up. 
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“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it. 
“Yes?” He replied. 
“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.” 
“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down. 
“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo. 
“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door. 
“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out. 
“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?” 
“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.” 
“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.” 
“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.” 
“Your brothers are helping, huh?” 
“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.” 
“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?” 
“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face. 
“Do you think we can-“ 
“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.” 
“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked. 
“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.” 
“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys. 
“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased. 
“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“ 
“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.” 
“I got his number, but-“ 
“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted. 
“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?” 
“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.” 
“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me. 
“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked. 
“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered. 
“How many safe houses do you have?” 
I held up a set of keys. 
“Damn.”
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The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate. 
“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door. 
“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned. 
“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”
”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.” 
“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?” 
“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”
“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?” 
“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“This is about Mom’s grave.” 
“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out. 
Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.” 
“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.
“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top. 
“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 
“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar. 
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I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink. 
“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.
“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned. 
“I didn’t ask for this.” 
“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to… 
“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me. 
“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.” 
“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo. 
“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.” 
I choked on my drink. “You know?” 
“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?” 
“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.” 
“Michael Rainer’s daughter?” 
“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?” 
“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.” 
“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.” 
“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“ 
“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something. 
“What’s up?” I asked. 
“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“
I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”
”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.” 
“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned. 
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I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder. 
“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him. 
“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?” 
“Are you-“ 
“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.” 
“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID. 
Sam. 
“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?” 
‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’ 
“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.” 
‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’ 
“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.” 
‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’ 
‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’ 
“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them. 
“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked. 
“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.” 
“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket. 
“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.” 
“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean. 
“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“ 
“Chill, Dean.” I sighed. 
“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.” 
“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!” 
“His name is Xavier.” 
“I thought it was Nate.” 
“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”
”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.” 
“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.” 
The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?” 
“WHAT?!”
”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?” 
“He was great.” 
“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”
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We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection. 
Of Lindsey. 
“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it. 
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called. 
“I’m calling 911!” 
“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.” 
She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.” 
“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys. 
“Who are you?” 
“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.” 
She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue. 
“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”
”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…” 
“Great?” 
“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue. 
“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”
”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.” 
“Who?” Dean asked. 
“Angela’s boyfriend.” 
“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?” 
“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue. 
“That’s terrible.” 
“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”
”Messed up how?” Dean asked. 
“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.” 
“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.” 
“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.” 
“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.
“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in. 
“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”
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We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong. 
“Hey.” He coughed. 
“Hey.” Dean grimaced. 
“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”
”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting. 
“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped. 
“Yeah? And?” 
“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.” 
“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.” 
“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.” 
“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead  plants, hell, even dead goldfish.” 
“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked. 
“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.” 
“You stole the girl's diary?” 
“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.
”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?” 
“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book. 
“Yeah, I showed him it.” 
“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.” 
“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela. 
“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded. 
“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused. 
“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked. 
“Yeah, I did.” 
“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”
”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.” 
“No? Then why?” 
“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.
”How, Neil?”
“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.” 
We left the house, a little more assured than last time.
“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...” 
“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break. 
“Well, there's one way to be sure.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Burn the bones.” 
“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.” 
“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?” 
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We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.
“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-
“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty. 
“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned. 
“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed. 
“I don’t get it.” 
I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly. 
“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!” 
“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.” 
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“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep. 
“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.
“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry. 
“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered. 
“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect. 
“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.” 
“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on. 
“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.
”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off. 
“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.” 
“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated. 
“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel. 
“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?” 
“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.” 
“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked. 
“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye. 
“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat. 
“I’ve gotta go, boys.” 
“Why?” Sam asked. 
“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.” 
“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue. 
“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked. 
“If we need you, we’ll call you.” 
“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”
”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”
”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”
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I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence. 
“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun. 
“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”
”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”
”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”
”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”
”It was-“
”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”
”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”
”I know, eight hours is way too long.”
After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”
’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’ 
“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”
‘Pretty much.’ 
“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”
”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”
”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”
”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen. 
“You needed me?”
”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.
”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?” 
“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.” 
“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.” 
“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?” 
“No lore.” He shook his head. 
“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked. 
“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”
“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.” 
“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.
”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets. 
“Got it.”
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We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up. 
“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?” 
“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun. 
“Silver bullets?” Sam asked. 
“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked. 
“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.”  Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty. 
“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” 
“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?” 
Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.” 
“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.” 
“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets. 
“Yeah.”  They both answered. 
“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.” 
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We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window. 
“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later. 
“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.
”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?” 
“Something, but not enough.” 
“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.” 
“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked. 
“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room. 
“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up. 
“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed. 
“Ok- who are you guys?” 
“You might want to ask Angela that question.” 
“What?” 
“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.” 
“You're crazy.” Neil stammered. 
“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”
”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed. 
“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently. 
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered. 
Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!” 
“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.
”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.” 
“No, no.”
I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”
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“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked. 
“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”
”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean. 
“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.” 
“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand. 
“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.” 
“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up. 
“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.” 
“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back. 
“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”
“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her. 
“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled. 
“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.
”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge. 
Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood. 
“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.
“For what, Dean?” 
“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.” 
I sighed. “Dean…” 
“You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.” 
“We don’t know that, not for sure.” 
“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?” 
“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”
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