#I decided am going to get more character references done before I do much else for it cuz I really wanna figure out what I’m doing for thei | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spnhunter4life · 2 years ago

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

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ganondoodle · 1 year ago

Text

more totk rewritten thoughts

since the mastersword still breaks at the start even in my rewrite, its gotta get restored somehow, so i think i wanna be a little 'classic' about it;

you can find the broken mastersword in a cave system near hyrule castle, its very obvious so you are more likely to come across it and pick it up, it doesnt use up an inventory slot but gets its own just like it did in botw

once you find it zelda inspects it and decides you need to talk to probably purah or impa to determine if its savable, since while it got damaged before its way worse this time; you get told you should ask the deku tree about it (so theres an actual incentive to go to the forest of the krogs/koroks) and discover that its been corrupted

in the corrupted forest you can walk around in freely here, without the mist teleporting you around since the spell of the krogs/koroks isnt working anymore, the center is mostly the same as in canon

zelda detects bigger concentrations of miasma all around the forest, at each point she directs you to is a miniboss, in total there are 3, but while the trees in the forest start to grow leaves again after you defeat each of them (there are mostly to all barren in botw too so i thought that would be a cool thing to siginify the ground has been cleansed more now) the center and the dekutree are still corrupted, however the deku trees insides are now accessible, once you go down there there is a boss (main big one thats unique and not just phantom ganon, tho that WAS a cool moment in canon, im using phantom ganons as the guys you gotta fight for the memory tree thingies so it would be too much reuse u think) once you are done with the first phase it flees into the underground via burrowing down, you follow through the hole and theres phase two in an underground boss arena themed around roots .. since its in the roots of the dekutree still

afterwards the forest goes back to normal (just with the other trees more alive again) and the deku tree tells you to put the sword back into its good ol pedestal, while its not gonna be fortified against miasma it can restore the blade form, and due to you cleansing the forest and making it more healthier it will not take ages to do so

then you are left to your own devices again, but once you reach the middle point of the game, after fighting ganondorf for the first time (which also triggers the miasma memory tree thingies i made a concept of a while back) you can go back to the forest and get the mastersword back, its blade restored physically but it being still vunerable to miasma and has only little attack power

zelda has the idea of going to the springs to ask for a blessing for the sword, however the deku tree suggests to ask the three dragons for it instead (so if you havent tried it yet you are hinted to go and try an land on them, since you couldnt do that in botw, also reference to skyward sword and how the mastersword got to be) after each blessing it gets higher damage and durability; once you obtain all three it still does not seem to be where it should be

now here i am a little unsure about if i want zelda to bless it also (similar to how skysw zelda needed to bless it) or if you should bring it to the giant hylia statue in the forgotten temple

(for zelda it would be neat bc its both a reference and something more character connected, but also you where already hunting down the deku tree and the dragons for it so making you go yet somewhere else again seems a little much; i like the giant statue as a way to guide you there but then again i dont think you an incentive for literally every place)

(on a side note about link shiekah arm, it has a battery that recharges and you can upgrade, but i also thought about making it so you CAN push it past its battery but then it takes from your health instead - like the destroyer in the botw DLC, but slower- which eliminates the need for an equivalent of the lil zonau charges)

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rewrites totk #idk if im reaching anyone with these ideas #and i doubt it will gain much traction once i get to drawing it #but i wanna do it anyway #open for constructive feedback

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smallestapplin · 8 months ago

Text

Thought I wouldn't find out?

This is a commission, so I hope you enjoy the Tom foolery!

🔞it gets suggestive so please no minors!🔞

Modern genshin au.

If you enjoy please consider buying me a coffee!

Arlecchino, to put it politely, didn't understand the ways of the internet, references to media or slang would go right over her head. She's the boss of a family-run 'company' not that she'd ever tell you what she does, but why should she keep up with these words and how others use the internet?

Though clear to anyone she does not waste her time with such things.

It was late at night when she found it, more accurately, you accidentally sent her a link, one in which she memorized the URL before you could delete it.

But she decided to play.

'Did you send me a message just now?'

'No, I've been busy reading. Maybe your phone is buggy.'

Why lie about it? It's what got her to look it up in the first place, cause why else would her sweet darling lie to her? Whatever the reason, she will be sure to confront you when she gets.....home?...What is she even looking at? Her eyes stare at an oddly colorful page, the words '18+' all over it, and filled with such filth she's almost impressed.

What are these things?

Wait, she knows these names, these are the names of your favorite characters from your games that you've talked her ears off about.

The further down she scrolls the more baffled she becomes, she knew you liked these characters and often gushed about them into the night, but to write such erotica about them? How in these 'authors notes' you speak of how much you wanted them to ruin you, and agreeing with these 'anons' of yours.

So this is what you've been hiding from her, this blog is like your own personal info-dumping website. To publicly say such things and have no shame, how cute, it's completely different than how you are at home with her.

How you so shamelessly speak of such filth.

'I'd peg him.'

'How come I am the only person who thinks the Golems are kinda hot-'

'If she needs a pet I'm so down. No, I don't care she's a scary monster, that makes her hotter!'

The further down she goes the worse it all gets.

But oh, she has an idea.

You grow excited as the clock ticks on, as your beloved wife messaged you not long ago she was on her way home. You're waiting at the door, lightly bouncing in place with a smile on your face, it's a rare time she'd be home at a decent hour! Dinner was almost done cooking too, oh you'll finally be able to enjoy your time together.

The door opens, accompanied by the familiar sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floor. You rush forward, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her cheek.

"Welcome home, my love. How was work today?"

Arlecchino mutely sighs as she slowly slides her arms around you, loosely hanging off your hips.

"Work was fine. However, the children have been sent off on a large mission, and won't be back for a few days. Regrettably, I had orders from Pierro to send them off. But that's all you get to know. How was your day? Surely you didn't miss me too much."

Her unchanging tone still doesn't fail to make you grow bashful.

"I always miss, our bed is so cold without you. But my day has been fine, I've mostly just been cleaning and reading. Oh! I have dinner cooking so-"

"Oh, is that all? I could've sworn your day had something to do with some monster woman."

You freeze, eyes widening at her words.

Did she...? No, no she couldn't possibly, you deleted it before she even opened her messages.

"Or perhaps that 'twink' you've been obsessing with? Oh, what was it again? Something about wanting to peg his boy cervix?"

You're recoiling, not only from hearing your posts being read back to you from her memory, but just hearing her of all people say these things with a stone-cold expression, and in a strict professional voice.

"Ok ok! Just please stop, I didn't mean to send that to you!"

"Could've fooled me, Dear. Now, explain yourself."

Arlecchino slides one hand up your back under your shirt, her nails lightly digging into your skin as she awaits an answer from you.

"I-I've always had that blog, I just- you aren't interested in hearing about my love for some characters at least as intensely as I post, so it's like an outlet for me."

You sweat under her scrutinizing gaze, her dark eyes staring into your soul to test your strength to not crumble. You felt like you could breathe again once she closed her eyes with a hum, clearly satisfied with your answer.

"Hm, good little pet."

It's cute how you seemingly melt under her praise, though it's swiftly cut short as she picks you up, carrying you towards the large windows at the front of the house, shoving your chest first into the glass.

"H-hey wait! What are you doing!?"

She leans close, her chest against your back as she lets her breath fan across the back of your neck.

"My, and I thought you liked this sort of thing? Don't tell me some of those posts were just for show. Don't tell me you aren't into the idea of my taking you here for anyone to see."

The only people who'd potentially see would be any grunt working under her, or her coworkers, both of which would be so embarrassing.

......though you don't condone half of what you write, maybe just this once?

#mdni #genshin x reader smut #genshin Arlecchino x reader smut #Genshin impact x reader smut #Genshin impact Arlecchino x reader smut #smut #spicy #🔞🔞🔞

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quirkwizard · 4 months ago

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I HAVE to get your input on this. lately I've been seeing a weird amount of Inasa hate lately, because of what he said in chapter 381 about Shoto and Endeavor. I saw someone say that him watching and rooting for them = giving a message that hating an abuser is a bigger sin than the abuse? Because apparently Inasa "doesn't care" to see how Shoto feels about the matter and instead is quick to "ride on Endeavor's side" which I think is such an incredibly stupid thing to say. Inasa isn't going to just walk towards Shoto during a literal war to ask how he feels about his dad. And even if Inasa could have done it post-dabi reveal and pre-final war, he's a minor character. And as much as I wished that him and the rest of Shiketsu got more attention, that's obviously not going to happen.

They also claimed that Inasa is a "parallel" to Dabi (which I think is a bit of a stretch? Don't know about that one.) and that apparently Inasa has "decided what's best" for them because he saw one interaction of Shoto with Endeavor wanting to change for the better. I obviously think that's blowing it so out of proportion because Inasa, much like Shoto himself, although in his own way, literally said he was looking forward to it. It would be even more strange for Inasa to just revert onto his already established development to start hating Endeavor again when Shoto himself doesn't even resent him that much anymore.

Are these people looking too deep into these things? Am I being biased because Inasa is my favorite character? Sorry if this feels like a rant-- because it kind of is, but I genuinely DO want your thoughts on this because honestly you're the only person I trust anymore in this fandom to make actual good and nuanced takes.

So I was hesitant to talk about this. This could involve someone else's post and I only have your notes on the post to work off of as I can't for certain find who you are referring to. Regardless, I can still try to talk about this going off what you said and what I've seen. And I could make this a whole diatribe about Enji and how people see him as a character, but I'll try to stick to the main points about Inasa.

I understand where people are coming from, to a degree. Having Inasa come back to root for Endeavor and not having any specific interactions with Shoto can be jarring. However, it's important to think about Inasa's role. Because he is like Dabi, at least in how he works in the Todorokis' arc. They are both people who were hurt by the Todorokis' in some fashion and who came back to haunt them. It's just that Inasa has a much more superficial level of that than the much deeper and more personal role that Dabi serves. Inasa's part is about how the two acted and treated people before their change. He's basically acting as a benchmark for the two of them. Shoto and Inasa already had their reconciliation back during the Remedial Course and the same thing happened with Enji. Inasa's recognition is showing their growth. It's why he's saying he's rooting for Endeavor and Shoto, not just Endeavor. As clinical as it sounds, him saying he believes in the two is all you really need him there for.

Then there is what the comment he made about anger and the implications of that. Yeah, Inasa never said that. That is a follow-up line for Seiji talking about how his dad was murdered by All For One. It's next to Inasa in the manga, but I don't even think it's about him in passing. If anything, that's more about Seiji's mini-arc about being less angry and dogmatic. As for what Inasa actually said, there is his speech about fear, but that speech is all about All For One. With him rooting for Enji and Shoto, I think that line is more about Inasa's change and, by extension, the two Todoroki's changes. By saying that boiling blood will triumph over fear and that he's rooting for the Todoroki's, it's showing that they moved past the colder versions of themselves, and Inasa is acknowledging them and how they'll beat All For One. This has nothing to do with Dabi specifically and everything to do with All For One. And by extension, fighting back against the regressive dark age that All For One wants to bring back, opposing the Todoroki's growth and change.

#My Hero Academia #Not Quirks #Inasa Yoarashi #Shoto Todoroki #Dabi #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

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tears0fsatan · 1 year ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⊹ ༺ COMMISSION ♱ ANNOUNCEMENT ༻ ⊹

thank you for the past year and a half. i can't say it enough. turning this blog into what it is today has changed my life in a myriad of ways that i am forever grateful for. its made me realise that maybe my silly ramblings are worth writing and that there are folks out there that actually like the string of words my brain puts together.

as a gift from me to you, in honour of my (late) year anniversary and 700 followers, i've decided to open my commissions. at the moment, i can only guarantee a total of 10 slots before my brain starts to turn on itself. if this goes well, i'll consider opening comms again in the future and increase the slot amount :)

once again, thank you so so much for continuing to support me throughout this past year, it's been a joy to share my work with you lovely people. the love i get on every one of my writings is one thing that keeps me going and motivates me to continue.

ᓚᘏᗢ . . more info under the cut !

status - open !

‧₊˚ ✩ SLOTS AVAILABLE : [10/10]

— PRICES

500 words : $3 / IDR 44K / AUD 4.50

1500 words : $5 / IDR 73K / AUD 7.40

2000 words : $8 / IDR 117.5K / AUD 12

2500 words : $10 / IDR 147K / AUD 15

anything longer is negotiable though i don't go over 4k

if i exceed the word limit, i won't charge extra (think of it as extra love from me ^_^)

if you cancel while i'm halfway done, there will be no refunds.

i do not offer revisions after i'm done writing a piece and if you would like to make changes, please message me at most up to a week after our initial conversation.

i can only accept payment through ko-fi unless you prefer directly sending the money through paypal.

i will only start working on your commission after i've recieved the payment.

please check out the carrd before filling out the google form.

— FANDOMS

you can see the main characters i'm open to writing for on my rulez page ⎯ it also includes the things i am not okay with writing.

★ ₊˚ additional medias i'm comfortable writing for include;

omniscient reader's viewpoint

trash of the count’s family (platonic & familial)

honkai: star rail

good omens

★ ₊˚ under no circumstance do i write about minors unless it is for a familial commission of; obey me, omniscient reader’s viewpoint, trash of the count’s family, or honkai: star rail, nor will i age up any characters for nsfw content. if that is what you are looking for, my service is not for you.

— RULES

i only write x readers and character x character(s). poly ships are okay as long as they aren't incest or pedofilic.

hard nos are listed out in my rulez page but i would like to emphasise that i do not write pregnancy, this includes creampies and breeding.

either no or specific descriptions of appearance (up to you). i will need details on your appearance and your personality, everything that you feel is necessary for your piece.

your commission doesn’t have to be canon compliant and can be an au or canon divergence. continuations of works that i've posted are also okay.

if there are works that you would like me to reference or base my piece on, don’t feel shy to send them to me.

works will be shared as a pdf through email or discord. if you would like it shared as a different medium through different means, do inform me in our initial conversation.

while i am open to accepting sfw commissions for those 17 and under (hopefully no one is younger than 16 ㅠㅠ), i won't take any nsfw commissions. this is not negotiable. i don’t feel comfortable with doing so and it is illegal for me to sell sexually explicit content to minors.

for nsfw commissions : please specify what anatomy (either afab or amab) or simply put 'gender neutral / gn' if you'd like me to keep it vague, as well as the dynamics between the characters. you must provide a picture of id along with your url / name written on a piece of paper beside it. as long as i can see your date of birth, everything else can be blurred out.

₊˚✧ if you are interested or have any questions, my dms here, and discord are open at all times. however due to timezones, i can't guarantee i'll answer immediately but i will get back to you as soon as i can.

feel free to check out the carrd & kofi i've created, it's highly appreciated <3

please please please don't feel like you have to buy me a coffee or ask for a comm to show your support!!! a reblog (on this post or any of my works really) and likes already make me feel luvedddd <33333

i would also like to reiterate that it is illegal for me to sell and distribute explicit content to minors and if you are underage you may not commission a nsfw piece ^^

that's all for now, if i get commissions i'll def prioritise those but i'll do my best to occasionally pump out a thirst or a drabble here and there ^^; (might even finish off the joongdok fic i have hidden in my docs on ao3..)

thank you for the amazing support over the past year,

一 juno /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

#help is this how it works #i tried my best to make it engaging ..#taking commisions #commisions open #writing commissions #commissions #x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #obey me x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #obey me smut #jjk smut #lucifer smut #leviathan smut #gojo smut #toji smut #mammon smut

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trash-can-sam · 1 year ago

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Ive finally made a sandrock OC (KIND OF) I havent just stolen the design of and put somewhere else. and I really want to talk about her. So here she is.

I wanted to give some lore to this character Qi mentions 3 times

AND now shes in my brain, so Ill say some things about her:

She wanted to be a biologist but ended up going into the same type of research job Qi's in because it paid more

Qi and Bugs went to college together and ended up working pretty closely on a few projects, maybe even had internships/jobs at the same place for a while before Qi moved to Sandrock.

She got the nickname Bugs because she would always pick up random bugs in elementry school and the name just kind of stuck. She prefers it to her actual name (which I have not thought of yet because names are hard)

Qi says that they are rivals, but I dont think thats actually true given how much they talk. I think its a lot more like a one sided rivalry where Qi has decided shes his rival and she just kinda plays along because its fun, but theyre actually just friends (not that Qi would admit that, but Bugs refers to and thinks of him as a friend)

Although she still works in Vega 5, she doesnt particularly love it there. To her, she just has nowhere else to go and the pay and lifestyle of Vega 5 is too much to resist, especially for someone wihtout that many goals.

Qi managed to get her into Gungham and so they have amazing conversations that only come from ADHD-Autism friendships where both people have the same hyperfixation. (I speak from experience when I say its the best thing)

She visits sandrock sometimes because she doesnt know where else to go when she has stacked up vacation days.

She gets very annoyed whenever people dont know what they're talking about, hence her friendship with Qi not really being an issue, because both of them are like this and they both thrive off of each others intellectual energy.

ALSO. Some things about her personal relationships to people in Sandrock:

Her and Grace are dating, mostly because I want Grace to have a girlfriend so bad (I am so starved for sapphic relationships you dont understand). They have been rotating in my brain SO MUCH, so I'll talk about them. This is largely because it would be SO FUNNY.

Their relationship started because Bugs would regularly visit Sandrock, so she would see Grace a lot. Since the Blue Moon Saloon isnt really that busy, they would talk to eachother quite a bit. After a few trips of both of them talking, Bugs decides it would be funny to mess with Qi whenever her and Qi eat dinner later that night, and she thinks the funniest way to do that is by Grace hitting on her at this dinner. Make it real awkward for Qi. I plan on making a comic for this actually SO we will see if it actually gets done. If it does it will be so funny you dont even know (it definetly will not be thats the brainrot talking.)

After that, they meet up outside the Blue Moon Saloon to toast to their success of making Qi extremely confused, they walk around sandrock and sit at the oasis a while. Nothing happens that night, but they both come away from it as deeper friends and a little crush. Not in like, a way that is that noticable, or a way either of them intend on pursuing, but a way that definelty exists. Neither of them are stupid, and both of them tend to do a good amount of introspection, so they both pick up on this and it changes the dynamic a little, but in a good way.

As time goes on, Bugs makes more and more visits to Sandrock, to see Qi of course, but the reason increasingly becomes to see Grace as well. They both flirt with eachother a bit here and there, until Grace asks her out on a date and it ends up becoming a thing. Still thinking of details there BUT! They will be thought of, dont worry.

NOW, For what this relationship means for them both and their similarities and a couple differences:

For both of them, this is the first romantic relationship they have had that really feels like the other person can keep up with them. Both of them are super smart, and they both sort of have unfollowed dreams.

They are also both workaholics discontent with the circumstances they're in, and I feel like they bond a lot over that.

BOTH OF THEM ARE VERY SILLY. Grace, especially if youre dating her, uses a lot of very silly language. Like whenever youre dating, her greeting is "Hey good lookin, what ya got cookin?" She has many many silly lines and I would reccomend reading her dialogue page if you havent already read it all the way through like 3 times. Bottom line is, shes goofy. And Bugs is also goofy. Not in exactly the same way, but like she calls Qi a chatty cathy, thats goofy. AND SOMETHING GRACE WOULD DO IF HER AND QI WERE FRIENDS IN THAT WAY. They would be a very annoying couple and I find that extremely funny especially in the context of them spending a good amount of time with Qi, who probably doesnt pick up on it half the time.

Both of them are the type to distract from their inner turmoil with humor. If you have gone on a playdate with grace or read her entire dialogue page, you would know she does this a non-zero amount of times, quite commonly in fact. Bugs does the same type of thing, but she does tend to talk a lot less than Grace.

Bugs is an introvert unlike Grace, but she can read people surprisingly well. Not anywhere near as well as Grace, of course, but still pretty well.

Both have jobs that end up with them being relatively isolated from personal connections. For Bugs, shes working in a team with a lot of people she doesnt really like, for Grace, she has to keep quiet about her job for the most part. This leads to them having an interesting dynamic in which both of them dont really know how to navigate personal, unguarded relationships super well. Bugs hasnt had any close friends in a long time, and Grace cant turn off her agent brain, oftentimes getting a lot more from Bugs than Bugs would want her to. I have a real thing for relationships where one person is quite guarded and the other person can read them super well, and Bugs and Grace fit this dynamic very well in both directions. Bugs tends to read Grace more than she expects too, not by a crazy amount or anything, but she does catch Grace offguard occasionally, just because Grace tends to drop it more often without realizing it around Bugs.

They have the same sort of (aspiring) archeolegist and researcher dynamic Grace and Qi have (That I touched on here) but romantic so. I think thats fun personally, because its a cool sort of combining of forces. It also hits a bit different from Grace's and Qi's simply because Bugs is a lot more like Grace personality wise.

A couple other relationships in sandrock:

Her and Zeke get along. She visits Zeke sometimes, because of her interest in biology. And I just think they would get along. Not just because she likes plants but I also think she would appricate how Zeke is very knowlegable on what he does as well as desert farming in general.

She doesnt like the church very much (for the innate ideological differences that come with being a researcher), but she still has a laugh with Dan-Bi occasionally.

I like the idea of her getting along with Fang a bit. I think she has at least looked at some of what she uses to make medicine and is like "oh wow thats genius!"

I think she would have a very fun time messing with Yan (because Yan is literally so funny idc what anyone else says I love him so much) I dont think she would like him, but I think she would have fun talking to him every now and then just to prod him (which Yan ofc doesnt notice) for goofs.

I love the idea of her getting along with Unsuur. I cannot explain why. But I think they would be drinking buddies.

Some design notes and how she dresses when shes not in a lab coat:

I had to give her a long lab coat because thats a demographic severely underepresented in sandrock

Her shirt color is pretty similar to Qi's undershirt, it just felt like it fit. Its also half untucked like Qi's, but Bugs does it because she thinks it looks good while Qi does it because hes tired. I dont really know how to draw that sort of distinction, but just know that its there.

Her belt buckle is gold while Qis is silver

Her hairtie is dark blue, Qis tie is light blue. Theres not a whole lot to that I just thought it was neat personally.

Her fashion sense tends to be pretty casual, usually hoodies and shorts while shes in her apartment and pretty normal streetwear outside of it. I dont think that she wears as many belts as the average Sandrock or Portia citizen. Since we havent been to Vega 5, I cant say for sure what the normal fashion sense is like, but based off of Qi and Petra, who are more like the average Vega 5er, and what is known about the culture, I assume regular dress tends to be more busniess casual-formal. I dont count Merlin, who was so eccentric she got kicked out of Vega 5, Or Mint, who seems overly casual, in this assesment. However, Bugs dresses in whatever is slightly more casual than the normal Vega 5 streetwear. Not as casual as Mint, but definetly not formal. She's kind of done with Vega 5's general busniess culture, not done enough to leave, but done enough that she doesnt really care what she wears off the clock if that makes sense.

That is all for my unhinged ramblings. I have a lot of ideas about her and maybe I will actually do something with those, so I thought I should introduce her.

#my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas qi #A little bit. Idk if I can count it BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IM GOING TO #not like stuff gets posted in that tag that often anyways #and her existence is entirely based off of 3 of his lines #mtas grace #mtas oc #my art #innane ramblings #I feel like I talked a lot about her but also not a lot at the same time #BUT YOU KNOW WHAT.#theres plenty of time to talk more about her in the future #Its all in the mind palace.#Also im sorry if this writing makes no sense or if I use the same words too many times #this is a first draft so #its not well thought out

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zoeysdamn · 2 years ago

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Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.3

Summary: The therapy sessions goes well – as well as it can – and you learn why Tyler is so willing to get help from Dr.Fern. His desire to leave Jericho is highly relatable to you, maybe the two of you are starting to bond beside the flirting? New and old foes are coming back to taunt you with past mistakes, making Tyler wonder what you could have possibly done at your last stay at Nevermore.

Warnings: swearing, sexist and homophobic comment from one of the character, physical assault, mention of blood, bad flirting A/N: Okay this is such a long-ass chapter, but I really wanted to finish it and post it before starting to write the next one! The besties know what’s coming uhuhuh 👀 I apologize in advance if anyone reading this is named Cindy; you’ll understand krkrkr.

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2]

You sat on the edge of Dr.Fern’s office window, like you were twice a week now. If the therapy sessions weren’t useful to Tyler, at least you could use them as a break from the school and from your duties. But Tyler really seemed to enjoy those sessions, which meant he wouldn’t try to attack the therapist; after the first session, you were already sure of it.

“How do you feel about being back at Jericho, Tyler?” asked Dr.Fern, wearing a long-sleeved green dress that gave a heavy Stevie Nicks vibe.

“It’s not comfortable, but I don’t have much choice,” he admitted. “The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can start something new.”

The therapist hummed, sensing something deeper than that, “What do you want to do, if you leave Jericho? Got any plans, anything you want to do?”

Out of reflex, Tyler glanced at you briefly; you weren’t looking at them, acting laid back and uninterested, but he knew you were listening. Or at least, a part of him hoped that you did.

“I want to free myself from here. Everyone at Jericho had always tried to restrain me or manipulate me, I’m sick of it. They're the reason I turned into a Hyde and got violent in the first place," he gritted, more for himself.

“Are you referring to Laurel Gates? Or is there someone else you’re thinking about too?”

Tyler pursed his lips, looking rather upset by the question. Still, after a few seconds he finally answered, “My dad too,” he admitted quietly.

Behind him, you raised an eyebrow. You vaguely remembered reading that Tyler and his dad didn’t get quite along, especially after the whole ordeal from last year, and him having to hide from his son her mother had been an outcast. The only time you had met sheriff Galpin had been a little more than two years ago, when he had arrested you at Nevermore academy. Since then, you haven't had the pleasure yet.

“Have you talked to him since you came back?” wanted to know the fae.

“No,” he snapped curtly, trying to not let his anger for his dad slip away too much – which was useless with the empath fae. Sensing this, the therapist decided to lead him on another subject.

“What would change if you left Jericho?" asked Dr.Fern, and at Tyler's dumbfounded expression she tried to re-formulate her question, "How would you change if you left Jericho?"

Again, Tyler took his time to answer; the question had a subliminal interrogation of course, but he understood what she was meaning. "Not much I think," he finally admitted. "I won't be so different that I am now, I'll be the same. Good and bad sides alike."

His words made you slightly turn your head to him, intrigued; meanwhile, a twinkle of interest lit up in Dr.Fern's eyes. "This," she noted out loud, "this is interesting. Go on, what are those 'good' and 'bad' sides you're referring to?"

Tyler cleared his throat nervously, "Well I…I can't deny there's still a violent side in me. The Hyde will always be a part of me, always will be me, I can't change that."

"Do you want to change that?" argued the therapist.

This time, his answer was immediate, "No. There's no need to lie, a part of me actually enjoys violence. I think…I think it was already here before Laurel told me who I was."

The mention of his first stay in a disciplinarian center in his file flashed in your mind. It was true, he had attacked a Nevermore student around a year before the whole Hyde ordeal. Maybe the sheriff's son indeed had a knack for violence for quite a time.

The kind face of Dr.Fern didn't change at his confession, instead silently encouraging him to carry on.

"I'm not anymore the monster Laurel made me," he said with a bitter tone at the woman's mention, "but I'm not a Saint either. I want to leave this town with too many preconceived ideas and unrealistic expectations about me, and be my own person. I just want to find a place where I can be myself."

"Good and bad?" asked the therapist.

Tyler nodded and repeated, "Good and bad."

The weight of his words echoed in you, more than you would have thought. He had exactly pinpointed something you hadn't figured out yourself. Deep down, you wanted to free yourself from the Van Helsing suffocating straitjacket and what bound you to Jericho. That didn't mean you wanted to stop hunting monsters, only that you wanted to do your own thing; to do you, according to what you believed and what you were.

Tyler and you might not be so different after all.

From her seat, Dr.Fern sensed the mix of surprise, confusion and warm feeling of understanding coming from you. She looked at you and smiled kindly.

"You know you're always welcomed to join us on the sessions, Y/N."

Immediately you closed yourself with a scowl, "Not a chance."

The therapist kept her soft smile, "Like you want, the offer will still stand on the next time."

You huffed, and Dr.Fern announced the end of the hour to Tyler, who got up to shake her hand. You grabbed your jacket to put it on, nodding to the therapist on your way out of her office. The knowing look in her eyes was worse than a slap on the face by reality itself. Despite knowing that she had touched a nerve, you stubbornly decided to ignore it, and instead followed Tyler out of the building. You'll be damned if you actually recognized those therapy sessions were perhaps useful to you, too.

Once outside, you exhaled loudly, not noticing how deep in thoughts Tyler seemed to be. When you glanced at him and saw how upset he looked, you nudged him with your elbow – probably stronger than it should have been for a friendly action.

“You okay?”

He jumped a little at your gruff and unexpected gesture, “Uh- yeah, yeah I’m fine. Thanks.”

An inner voice would have snickered that he was acting up again; but somehow, you truly believed that he was honest in his reactions here. The more you spent time together, even as your strange warden-convinced dynamic, the more you were beginning to be sure he was honest with you. Even if he was an honest asshole, an honest flirt or an honest confused young adult.

“Perfect then. Let’s go, I’m craving for some coffee.”

Tyler’s eyes widened as you made your way to the car, “Aren’t we supposed to go back to Nevermore?”

“For once we’re allowed to get out of the school, I’ll be damned if I didn’t take time to get an acceptable coffee,” you groaned, “The insipid shit at the cafeteria should be exorcized, I swear it could kill someone. Is the Weathervane still open?” you asked him as you turned on the engine.

“Yeah it is,” he muttered quietly.

The trip to downtown Jericho was silent, and you parked just across the entrance of the coffeeshop. When you both got out of the car, Tyler looked mortified and you noticed him pulling his hood up nervously.

You raised an eyebrow at him, “What’s up?”

“Go ahead, I- I’m not really comfortable going in there.”

At first you scoffed but then the shifty and frightened looks he gave all around him made you frown. Glancing behind you over your shoulder, you noticed two older ladies whispering among themselves a few feet away, and not so discreetly pointing at your pair. Now that you looked at them, you also noticed a man passing by, giving you a disgusted snare. Pulling the hood further down to cover his scared cheek, Tyler looked down in shame. Seeing him being so vulnerable and self-conscious about himself, while he had appeared all confident and cocky to you before took you off-guard. Suddenly you realized that maybe, the tough insolent asshole side of him might have been an act too; at least part of it.

Still, the professional part of you was reluctant.

“I can’t leave you unsupervised outside,” you frowned, but instead of the witty comeback you expected, Tyler’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground.

“I’m not going anywhere I swear, I’ll stay near the car just– just be quick, please,” he mumbled.

Okay, his voice almost breaking really made you pity him now. “Fine,” you conceded, “but you stay right here. If you ever move away from that car, I’ll kill you.”

He nodded silently, and you made your way to the coffee shop; not without glaring at the two old tattletales on your way. Pushing the door open you entered the Weathervane, glancing back at Tyler, only to see him leaning against the car nervously, not moving. Good.

“Welcome to the Weathervane, what can I get you?” greeted the young barista behind the counter.

“A large Americano to go, with two shots of espresso please.”

“Coming right up!” she chirped excitedly.

While the barista started to make your drink ready, you glanced once again behind your shoulder to check on Tyler. The poor guy seemed to be mortified by his sole presence downtown.

“That’s the delinquent sheriff’s son,” whispered the barista to you, noticing your gaze, “he’s up to no good, I’ll tell you.”

“Is he now?” you asked with false surprise, which seemed to thrill her and her gossip thirst.

“It’s been said that he’s a monster, like, not metaphorically, but one of those Nevermore freaks! Can you imagine?!”

“No way,” you gasped in an over-exaggerated manner she didn’t notice. Instead, the barista nodded energetically.

“I swear! Shouldn’t even be allowed to live after what he did if you ask me.”

I didn’t ask you anything Cindy, you thought internally, glancing at her name on the badge she wore. “What did he do?”

“He lied to all of us!” she said with a huff. “Had the nerve to lie to all those good innocent people of Jericho, can you believe that! I even heard he had kind of assaulted a Nevermore student or whatever.”

The voice in your head snorted loudly. So all that mattered to that girl was that Tyler lied to them about his nature? Murders were no big deal apparently to the ‘good innocent people’ of Jericho.

“A deranged freak who manipulated all of the town to make us believe he was normal, that’s what he is!” she snickered, pouring coffee in a large cup.

“I bet he didn’t even drink coffee, uh?” you joked knowingly, to which she giggled.

“No, he wasn’t even that manly! Drank only soft girly drinks like Caramel macchiato and hazelnut shots, what a pussy!”

“Yeah,” you snickered dryly, then she handed you your drink. “Oh, can I borrow you for one more minute and order you another drink to go? I’ve forgotten I have to get one for my friend.”

“Sure thing girl! What will it be?”

“A large caramel macchiato with a hazelnut shot,” you said looking at her dead in the eye. The mocking expression she had morphed into a bewildered one, so you smiled darkly at her. “To go. Please.”

She nodded nervously, your intense gaze bruning holes behind her head making her anxious as she prepared the other drink. Now she wasn’t so chatty and bitchy, was she?

“H-here, that’ll be 10$,” she stuttered.

Putting the money on the counter you grabbed the two cups and gave the barista a smirk. “Next time you decide to spill sexist comments over someone’s drink choice, you better remember that person killed five people before you speak,” you snickered at the now terrified barista. “Next time I hear you pulling that bullshit at anyone else, I’ll be using your teeth as lucky charms for my next stay in juvie, is that clear Cindy?”. The barista paled instantly and nodded vigorously. You smiled at him, “Great. See you then.”

Then you turned back, leaving the barista livid and crossed the coffee shop door before returning to the car with a satisfied smile.

“Here,” you said flatly to Tyler, handing him his drink.

He looked at it eyes wide in surprise, “Thanks? What’s the honor?”

Looking back at the Weathervane you caught Cindy’s gaze and made sure that she had seen everything, “Let’s just say it’s been my personal satisfaction of the day. And you kinda needed that. C’mon let’s go.”

As Tyler didn’t need to be asked twice to get in the car you smiled sweetly at the barista from your spot, and gave her a clear and proud middle finger. Her offended face was everything.

“They really hire anybody in there,” you grumbled as you got in the driver’s seat, “Homophobic bitch.”

Next to you, Tyler smiled a bit, looking back and forth to the coffee and to you, slowly realizing what had happened.

“Wait, you actually…took my defense?” he said out loud after a few seconds, as you had already started the engines and drove away from the Weathervane.

“Called you a pussy for drinking caramel macchiatos,” you explained flatly, “Sexist comments get me out my hinges. Even to murderers.”

He cleared his throat, the murderer comment not making him uncomfortable for once, “Well– thank you then.”

“Don’t mention it,” you shrugged, taking a big gulp of your coffee.

The rest of the road to Nevermore was spent in silence, but Tyler couldn’t help but have a small smile sipping his macchiato. Maybe you definitely had a soft spot after all.

Once you arrived at the school and parked the car, Tyler started a random discussion, asking about something that you saw in yesterday’s class. It carried on as you dropped the car keys at the stewardship and you debated about the possible upcoming class subject for outcasts History. This rare anger-free moment wasn’t so bad; it reminded you that no matter your family's heritage, you were both teenagers.

Deep in conversation you and Tyler strolled in the quad, not noticing the group of students sitting on one of the tables not too far, chatting among themselves too. Until you heard a snare, then a growl coming from them. Normally you wouldn’t have paid much mind to it, but when Tyler stopped dead in his tracks you turned your head in their direction. It was the same group of students you had caught a glimpse of the day before through Tyler’s room window; Ajax’s friends you believed. Indeed, the Gorgon stood there, nervously fidgeting as soon as he noticed you both. The long-haired boy next to him – Xavier from what you had come to understand, Ajax’s best friend – glanced between the two groups, looking uneasy; then you remembered that he and Tyler hadn’t been on the best terms, no wonder why he was like this. In front of them, the blonde girl who had seemed so joyful the night before was baring her teeth, growling angrily with murder in her eyes. The petite raven-haired girl beside her had a protective hand on her shoulder, restraining the werewolf – her behavior had given it away, really, just as the way she stood protectively before the black and white girl. Although this one didn’t seem too helpless either, given the daggers her eyes threw at Tyler. The whole bunch glaring at you wasn’t unusual, but there was something different about it.

“Old friends of yours?” you muttered to Tyler.

“Could say that. Not really my biggest fans.”

“Yeah figured. What’s with little miss sunshine?” you asked, discreetly nodding to the blonde werewolf.

“She uh…she fought me in the woods before I got arrested.”

Eyes widening, you glance back and forth between the two of them; that’s when you noticed the scars on her cheeks, smaller than the one Tyler had, partly covered with cute pink bandages.

You cackled softly, “No way, she’s the one who had beat the shit out of you? Wow,” you whistled lowly, “can’t lie, I’m impressed. Hey! Well done Wolfie!” you called her out with a mocking raise of your cup.

Your comment made her freeze, a bright shade of pink rising on her cheeks in surprise. Although it immediately made the pigtailed-girl look even more angry, like a dark murderous aura rose around her; it took Xavier and the werewolf – Enid if you now remembered the files – to restrain her from jumping on you and skin you alive.

A slight wince took place on your face, “Aouch, who’s the potential serial killer here? Looks like she hates me almost as much as she hates you.”

Tyler scratched his neck nervously “That’s Wednesday Addams she’s uh…kind of my ex I guess?”

This time a laugh escaped your throat, unable to be contained. “No shit??”

“Yeah…also, she might have been the one who framed me, too,” he said nervously.

You couldn’t help but continue to laugh, snorting at the absurdity of the situation. Tyler looked even more awkward than he already was, and even the other students seemed taken aback by your reaction.

“Phew,” you sighed between two laughs, “thanks for that, I really needed a good joke.”

A scoff coming from the angry students cut short your delight, “I thought potential victims of serial killers had more brain than that,” snapped the murderous Addams.

Her harsh comment definitely stopped your joyful mood, and the threat-like tone she used didn’t fit right with you; oh no.

“Excuse me Addams, I didn’t quite hear you from here; I don’t receive frequencies emitted at low altitudes.”

Ajax let out a snort, unable to restrain himself, Enid giving him a harsh glare.

“What was that, future corpse?” growled the girl.

“Y/N don’t,” said Tyler in a low voice, but you didn’t listen to him and walked to Wednesday. But you were far too intrigued to let it slide now; this was too tempting.

“If anyone’s close to being murdered, it definitely ain’t me shortcake,” you snickered, facing her with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes at you, “I’d like to take you up on that.”

“Mmmh, shame there’s no bounty on your head Addams, I’m sure the hunt would have been thrilling,” you wondered out loud, before your face briefly lit up with a smile to the werewolf and the Gorgon, “Not on you two though, you’re actually really sweet!”

“T-thanks?” stuttered Enid.

“You’re the Van Helsing hunter,” deduced the Addams with a slight raise of her brow, “strange how you went from hunting the most famous vampire in the world to vulgar bodyguard duty.”

“You actually know your classics, I might even feel honored.”

“So it’s you I have to bribe if I want to have a take in Tyler’s murder,” she clarified, glaring at him, “good to know.”

“Ah,” you snorted, “I work alone Addams, pretty boy over there is all mine to take.”

Tyler’s ears turned red but you didn’t notice it; Enid, Ajax and Xavier looked among themselves with wide eyes, the Gorgon shaking his head to the other like ‘no way’.

“Fair enough,” finally let out Wednesday, “you seem cruel enough to make an acceptable job. But if I have the slightest window of opportunity, know that I’ll make him pay for what he did to mi querida.”

Enid blushed with a blissful smile, not expecting such a public display of affection – and confirming your suspicion about them being together. Behind you, you heard Tyler whisper a quiet “yeah, get in line.”

“Don’t get used to it,” muttered Wednesday to her girlfriend.

“Well, if we’re done with the promises of threats, this is our cue,” you said with a smirk. “It’s really been a displeasure.”

“Wouldn’t have put that more eloquently,” said a dry voice from behind you.

All of you turned around to face the disgusted and sneering faces of Bianca and Yoko, who had just arrived at the quad.

“Oh shit,” you let out.

“Your friends?” whispered Tyler, half in irony, half actually frightened by their icy glares.

“My ex this time. The creepy one with glasses.”

The ‘oh damn’ he let out was almost inaudible. Yoko eyed you and Tyler, sneering at your pair.

“You two look awfully cozy,” she noted, gesturing to your coffee cups, “getting on dates already?”

Rolling your eyes, you repressed the urge to flip her off, “Therapy session,” you corrected, “you should actually try it, maybe it’ll help with the raging daddy issues you got.”

“You little–”

Bianca grabbed the vampire’s arm before she could attack you, “Enough with this childish bickering. You’re not welcomed here, Van Helsing.”

This made Tyler frown slightly; if anything, he would have thought that he was the first person framed as their archenemy. What did you do to deserve this place? But as usual, you responded with an insolent snort instead of focusing on the matter at hand.

“Maybe not by you, your royal highness, but by the school board and that’s enough for little ol’ me. Perhaps you’re the one being not mature enough to actually move on? So much for your lectures about being the bigger person, miss bully.”

Smoke coming out from her ears could almost be seen as she growled through gritted teeth, “Take this filthy son of a bitch with you and get the fuck out of my sight.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you winked at her, casually strolling away from them.

While you walked away from the quad and the murderous looks, Tyler eyed you on the corner of his eye, watching you sipping your coffee with a relaxed expression, like nothing actually happened. Despite this all exchange being as funny as it had been awkward, there was something he still didn’t get.

“Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what? If you want to complain about my charming personality, sorry lover boy the return date had expired,” you ironized.

“Like that,” said Tyler, and the lack of teasing tone made you look at him; he was serious, even looking slightly concerned. “Why do you always use sarcasm and dark humor to answer to anyone, instead of facing the addressed matters?”

“Okay first of all,” you said pointing a finger at him, “my humor is impeccable. Second of all, fuck off, I’ll do what I want.”

As you began to walk faster to put some distance between the two of you Tyler spoke up again, “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Why can’t you talk about something seriously?”

“Because it’s fun,” you groaned irritably.

“I don’t think that’s the only reason.”

“What,” you snapped whipping in his direction, “you’re gonna play the therapist too, now? I don’t fucking need your help.”

“I’m not offering any,” he said carefully, “I’m just trying to understand.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you pondered whether or not you should flip him off for this nosy behavior. But he genuinely seemed to care; you weren’t used to that. So you sighed and asked, “If I answer your question, will you drop it?”

He nodded and you motionned him to follow you; there was no way you were talking about yourself in the middle of a Nevermore corridor, might as well continue to walk to the dorms.

“I don’t really do this on purpose,” you tried to explain, playing with the now empty to-go cup, “it’s more like a reflex or something. Defensive mechanism or whatever bullshit name it’s given.”

“To defend yourself against what?” said Tyler, surprised that you actually opened up about it.

“Everything,” you muttered. “It’s easier to get away from discussions you’d rather not have by deflecting everything with sarcasm, I learned that early.”

“Parents?” he asked.

“Grandparents. Both. Everyone, really. I didn’t have many friends growing up anyway, always too weird to blend in. So being witty was a way to shield myself from the family bullshit and the other kids’ intimidation. After it just stuck I guess.”

Tyler nodded pensively; he was sometimes acting like a dick too, but it was more for fun than anything else. Laurel Gates had awoken a sinister and violent side in him, he guessed that it was some remains of his violence craving that had almost disappeared with her. He still wanted to kill deep down, but he also wanted to get his shit together and do something right. Acting like a cocky bastard was the result of both of those sides in him fighting for dominance. Maybe he’ll talk further about that to Dr.Fern in their next session.

“Useful in juvie too,” you noted out loud, the sarcasm returning quickly.

Tyler scoffed in amusement, “Didn’t that make you the public enemy?”

“Having a big mouth is a problem-bringer only if you’re not the smartest,” you said casually. “No matter the situation, I’ve sass my way in, and I’ll sass my way out.”

He let out an honest, light laugh, “You should put that on a shirt.”. That made you grin.

“Maybe I will pretty boy, maybe I will.”

Later that day, around the time of dinner, you tossed and turned on your bed, groaning in frustration. After the interaction with Wednesday, Bianca, Yoko and the others, you didn’t feel like doing anything but that also bored you out of your mind.

The ding of a notification made you grab your phone and open the incoming text from the unknown number.

Ditching me for dinner, Van Helsing? How am I supposed to have dessert without my favorite eye-candy?

For a second you frown, then grinned realizing who it was. Seemed like the flirting match was never over.

Look who’s the stalker now, you answered. Got any hacker skills I don’t know about?

Got your number by Ajax, texted Tyler back.

You snorted, Poor guy, hope you didn’t frightened him too much

Don’t worry I’ve been nice, even said “please”

Texting back “good boy” was so fucking tempting, but before you could, you received another text from Tyler.

But seriously, Ajax told me you weren’t coming for dinner, u good?

His concern was kind, really. To be honest you weren’t really hungry and under all the sarcasm and laid-back attitude you gave this afternoon, the confrontation with other students had drained you physically; you weren’t really hungry. So you had texted Tyler’s roommate, asking him if he was okay to be his supervisor for dinner this time. Tyler had behaved well all day, and he even seemed to warm up to his roommate; maybe they could be friends one day.

Not really hungry that’s all, you quickly texted, gonna take a walk outside instead

Careful, I heard there’s some dangerous things in those woods, teased Tyler in his next text, wouldn’t want to ruin a pretty thing

Yeah, I’m that dangerous thing, and you’re wrong

About?

You grinned to yourself before tipping, I wouldn’t mind ruining you, pretty boy

On the other side of Nevermore, Tyler chuckled at his phone in the dining hall. A few minutes later, you finally got up from your bed and slipped on your shoes, resigned to go on that walk. It could do you some good.

Slipping away from the empty corridors was easy, given everyone was at the dinner hall. At this hour, the night began to fall and the woods of the academy were rather pleasant. No students, no drama, no hunting business. Just a peaceful walk, and honestly that’s all you needed right now.

The crack of a twig made you whip your head around; if the upcoming darkness could hide something, the glimpse of a jacket behind some tree wasn’t so subtle.

“I can see you, you know,” you called out to whoever was following you.

An awkward silence answered you, before three students came out from behind the trees. You narrowed your eyes at their familiar faces; they were all students you had known from your previous stay at Nevermore. And they didn’t look like their presence here was a coincidence. Maybe the baseball bats were a hint.

“Lovely meeting you there, but I’m done with the babysitting duty for the day,” you joked bitterly.

“Shut your mouth Van Helsing,” snapped one of the sirens – Divina or something? Yoko’s roommate. “It’s time for you to learn your place.”

Cocking your head to the side you eyed them up and down, “Mmmh, and the baseball bats are here for educational purposes I guess? Or are you three trying to build a sports team now?”

“They’re not only three,” interjected a voice behind you. You turned around, seeing two more students emerging from god-knows-where.

“Ah Kent,” you greeted the male siren, “not tired of playing Bianca’s lapdog yet?”

The scowl on his face told you that you had pushed the right button, “Shut up.”

Looking at the whole bunch surrounding you, you let out a snort, “So the plan here is to play the heroic outcasts who beat up the big bad Van Helsing? Five against one, very courageous really.”

One of the students – a vampire from what you saw – growled at you, “After all the shit you pulled, no way we’re playing fair, you fucking murderer.”

“Have you talked to your buddy about that?” you snarled at him, “what was this fucker name again? Jeremiah?”

“Shut up,” snapped the vampire, blood boiling. But you weren’t finished with him.

“Did you ask him if he had been fair? Or was he too busy counting his remaining teeth to answer you?”

A cry of rage erupted from behind you, and if it hadn’t been for it you wouldn’t have been able to duck down to avoid the swing of the heavy log of wood thrown at your head. Snapping your head above your shoulder, you crossed the hateful gaze of Kent who was struggling to regain his balance with the weight of his make-shift weapon. Then all hell broke loose. The five students jumped on you and started to throw hits at you with ferocious screams. You tried to avoid their attack the best you could, counting on their rage and untrained moves to dodge their bats or punches. But there was only so much you could do against five students – especially when trying to not hurt them too much or fight back at the same time. If you only do as lay a finger on one of them, they would run straight to Weems’ office, cry a little and you would be sent back to juvie.

A millisecond of inattention was all it took; you were dodging another punch when a violent swing crashed on your lower back, cutting your breath short. Your legs buckled under you and you collapsed on your knees, barely catching yourself with your hand before someone else punched you on the jaw. A sharp cry escaped your lips and blood filled your mouth, the burning pain making your ears ring for what felt like an eternity.

Feeling bolder seeing you on the ground the rageful students threw themselves on you, and the punches rained on you again. You tried your best to protect your head from their bats, punches and kicks, which dig deep into your ribs and back. To try to defend yourself you kicked your legs blindly, trying to reach at least one of their tibias. A wail of pain coming from above you made you realize you had succeeded and with an unexpected surge of energy you flipped on your back and pushed yourself harshly backward, helping yourself with your hand on the ground. None of your attackers had seen this coming, and the one you back bumped to their legs lost their balance, tumbling on the ground with a grunt.

The three remaining bullies stood tall in front of you, a lingering look of dumbfoundedness behind the hatred in their eyes. You knew this was your shot; so before they could even realize what just happened you sprung into action.

Grabbing a handful of dirt and you threw it in the eyes of the closest two attackers, making them scream in surprise and pain. They dropped their makeshift weapons to clutch on their faces, trying to rub off the dirt irritating their eyes. You didn’t wait a single more second and jumped on your feet, before dashing toward Kent, last remaining of your attackers. Before the siren could even react you tackled him down with all of your force, and you both crashed on the ground loudly. If Kent found himself out of breath with the shock, you had rolled on your shoulder before touching the ground, landed on your feets and sprinted the fuck away from here.

You didn’t even check if your attackers had gotten up and followed you, you just ran mindlessly toward the school. The wind slashed on your cheeks, prickling as your lungs burned but you didn’t care. For now, the only thing that mattered was to reach the dorms the quickest way possible. Finally, the walls of the school appeared and your legs didn’t falter. You dashed into the quad, almost crashing into a wall on a harsh turn. The entrance to the Ophelia wing was at arm’s reach when suddenly you slammed into something. And this something groaned.

The strength of the collision made you stumble and a loud curse left your lips, as you gripped your throbbing head.

“Motherfucker!”

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice made you snap your head up, meeting the stupefied face of none other than Tyler Galpin.

“What are you doing here?” he urged, checking your general disheveled appearance, clothes coated with dirt and breath erratic, before frowning at the busted lips, bruises already forming on your left cheek and bloody nose.

Out of reflex you scowled, “What are you doing here?”

A shout coming from behind made you whip around, and the sharp turn made your ribs burn in pain. Clutching your side while trying to hide it the best you could, facing the five assholes you had left in the forest. They all looked even more angry than before, the little stunt you had pulled must definitely not have pleased them. Their rush was cut short when they saw Tyler, and they stopped dead in their tracks for a moment. Even if none of them had seen him in his Hyde form, they knew what he was capable of.

“What’s happening?” muttered Tyler to you, as the previously feral students seemed to start being nervous.

“Run away,” you seethed, wincing at the pain on your rib. Those fuckers probably had bruised your ribs.

“What?”

“Go back to your room,” you articulated slowly, “run away, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Get the fuck away Galpin,” shouted Kent before Tyler could protest again. You both returned your attention to the siren, whose voice was slightly wavering. “W-we only have a business with her, step away!”

You grunted, taking a step in the group’s direction, trying to stand tall despite the soreness starting to sink in. All of your body ached but you couldn’t let this show.

“None of you grew some balls on the way?” you snarled provocatively, which seemed to anger them even more.

“Shut up! None of you want to hear anything from you, you fucking murderer!”

Tyler frowned even more, glancing back and forth between you and the group of angry students.

“Less talking, more action,” you retorted, “if you’re not afraid of getting your asses handed to you again.”

Divina snorted, “Ah, look who’s talking. Not so courageous now that you’ve been beaten up, Van Helsing?”

You bared your teeth at her, murder in your eyes. But at the same time, you couldn’t hide the veil of shame draping over your traits. That’s when it clicked in Tyler’s mind. The bats and wooden sticks in the students’ hands, your general appearance, seeing you running away from something…those guys had cornered and attacked you? Five against one?

Before even thinking about this, he grabbed your wrist; with an unexpected gentleness and care.

“Did they do this to you?” he whispered slowly.

Instead of snapping at him, like you would have done even a few weeks ago, you glanced up at him. Your eyes were glossy, no matter how hard you tried to push it away, “It’s nothing; please, don’t do anything.”

Tyler felt his throat becoming tight. Please. He didn’t know what you had done, but he knew you weren’t one to beg. Even less letting yourself be beaten up by a group of five students you could have handled without a sweat. Something in him erupted, a flaming fury and blinding anger raging in his guts. A sensation of deep injustice and anger overtook him, fueled by the teary gaze and beaten face in front of him. For the first time since he got free of Laurel Gates’ influence, he had this unstoppable urge to kill.

Before you could add anything, Tyler stepped up, placing himself protectively in front of you standing tall and menacing. Not only because of his height, towering in front of the now shivering students, but also because of the dark look in his eyes.

“You did this to her?” he growled, his mouth turning into a menacing snarl.

A wave of anxiety emanated from your attackers, “S-stay back! We don’t have a-anything against you!”

“Oooh, you don’t?” cooed Tyler, but his tone didn’t have anything reassuring or joyful. It was cold, menacing, and it sent a shiver to everyone’s spine – even yours. “I’ve killed five people, but you don’t have anything to fear from me? Tell me, how many are you again?”

This time the shivering students exchanged terrified looks among themselves, as they understood the implication. Their fear only fuelled Tyler’s delight, his hands starting to morph into the skinny and sharp claws of his Hyde under the rage raging inside him. An animalistic growl crawled out of his throat, only answered by a terrified shriek from the students.

That’s when your mind reconnected and you sprung into action.

Almost throwing yourself in front of Tyler, just in time before he jumped on the screaming students, you pressed your hand on his chest, a bit harshly to make sure he stopped.

“Stop,” you breathed out in a yet firm voice, “don’t intervene. It won’t do anything good for either of us, trust me.”

He growled, baring his teeth to the students. Nothing but pure hate filled his eyes, and you had to call him out to make him look at you. His animalistic gaze met your serious eyes, with a lingering silent plea.

“Stop,” you repeated.

He held your gaze for a moment, flickering to the terrified attackers; then, after agonizing long seconds, he backed down slightly. His hands turned back to normal, but the murderous look still burned in his eyes.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and turned to the students’ who were close to crying.

“Get the fuck out of here,” you snapped at them, “you’re fucking lucky I was here, next time I’ll let him tear your sorry asses to shreds.”

“I- we-we didn’t ask you any–” started to mumble Kent, trying to play brave.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!” you wailed, patience finally breaking, and they ran away without asking for more.

“You’ll pay for what you did to Jeremiah!” shouted Kent in the distance before disappearing in a corridor.

A whimper left your lips and you feel your legs buckle under you, the pain finally crashing in. One of Tyler’s hands immediately came around your back to support you.

“You’re okay?”

A faint nod from you didn’t convince him the slightest, “ ‘gonna be fine,” you mumbled, “just need some bandages and sleep.”

You knew you were going to need more than that; but you still had your pride. Reluctantly, you tugged yourself out of Tyler’s arms, no matter how comfortable and warm they had felt. Taking in your slumping figure, the curly-haired teenager suddenly had an idea.

“Come,” he said softly, “better not to stay here.”

You seconded that. “I’m going back to my room.”

“To find Weems in front of your door?” he retorted, “nah, bad move. Come with me, I know just the place.”

Too tired to protest, you followed him without a word through the corridors. Tyler led the way, passing in front of the dinning hall and then to the cooking workshops. Surprisingly the door wasn’t locked and you both entered the pristine clean room. Tyler flickered the light open and you climbed on the edge of one the workbenches, sighing in pain and glancing around skeptically.

“Any first aid kit in that magical place of yours?” you mumbled in a semblance of a joke – which failed pathetically.

Tyler nodded and retrieved a small bag and tossed it to you, “Here. Every room with a cooking fire is required to have one. Need help with that?”

You scoffed, rolling up your shirt to inspect your ribs, “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not a cripple yet.”

Tyler eyed you for a second – a lingering look on the glimpse of your naked skin – before turning away and rummaging through the cupboards.

“So, what happened to 'sassing your way out’?” he teased, but his joke was only met with a bitter laugh.

“Turned out baseball bats outwitted my sarcasm, who could have guessed.”

He snorted. “What did those assholes want?” he then asked more seriously while grabbing a pot and pouring some water in it.

Snickering, you tried to refrain a hiss when you carefully poked at your painful rib, “Boring things really, getting me out of the school, calling me names, y’know the usual.”

“I didn’t think ‘the usual’ included beating the shit out of you.”

You exhaled loudly in annoyance, “It’s no big deal I said, drop it.”

“One of them called you a murderer,” insisted Tyler, glancing at you over his shoulder.

His stubbornness was starting to get on your nerves, “Big fucking news, I’m kinda one in everyone’s eyes here.”. But Tyler didn’t get the hint and he leaned against the ledge of the hob, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Does it have something to do with the Jeremiah guy they talked about?”

“Ugh! You really want to know?” you growled loudly, snapping at him, “fine! Jeremiah was a vampire student at Nevermore and I assaulted him, happy?”

Tyler’s eyebrows rose high in surprise. For the second time this evening he had witnessed you losing your temper; you had always such a cool and collected behavior, it was definitely not something he had expected.

“Send the fucker to the hospital for a month, and in return I was sent in juvie and that’s it, end of the story. Happy now?” you finished with a bitter snarl.

But the freckled boy didn’t seem over with that yet. His dumbfounded expression still held to many questions. “Wait, they sent you to juvie because you fought with a student? That’s insane, no one goes that far for a teenager fight.”

A dark chuckle escaped you and you glanced up to him menacingly, “You think I fought with him? I fucking destroyed him, that’s what I did. That’s right,” you continued to the puzzled expression on his face, “tore that son of a bitch apart and burned the vampire out of him like the big bad Van Helsing I am.”

Only a loud gulp answered you, and you went back to a closed-off silence, mulling over your bitterness – and shame. Even if you were untimely convinced that what you did had to be done, you weren’t overly fond of that memory either.

“How many students know about that?” asked carefully Tyler, trying to catch your gaze but you avoided him purposefully.

“All of them,” you muttered, “officially it was an accident. But they all know who to blame.”

Despite your elusive explanations, Tyler could feel that there was more to it but couldn’t yet picture what. “What aren’t you telling me?”

You scoffed, “I’m telling you what I want. I’m the bad guy in that story and I’m not more welcomed here than you are, that’s all.”. Tyler opened his mouth, ready to ask you why you were pushing him away again, but you cut him, “Your water’s boiling.”

He whipped his head around and swore under his breath at the forgotten pot. You took the opportunity to make a check of your physical state. Although it wasn’t so glorious, the extent of your injuries didn’t feel so bad. Without a mirror it was hard to tell how much of your face was bruised; but you definitely took a hell of a beating. At least you got the confirmation that your ribs weren’t broken, or else it would have hurt a lot more. After dabbing some alcohol on your bloody knuckles, palms and forearms you had scratch when falling, you tried to dress the wound on your forehead the best you could. A bag of frozen peas landed next to you.

“For your cheek,” said Tyler from where he stood.

You nodded your head in thanks as you pressed the bag against your bruised cheek, wincing at the cold against the bruise. Tyler returned a few moments after, two smoking cups in his hand. When he handed you one, you looked at him in disbelief.

“What’s that?”��

“Coffee. Looked like you could use some.”

Sniffing tentatively over the cup, rich aromas filled your nose like a blessing. After an experimental sip you couldn’t hold back a long moan.

“Jesus fuck, did you make that?” you asked in disbelief, and he nodded sheepishly.

“Might not be as good as the ones from the Weathervane, but at least it’s edible.”

Drinking eagerly like you were the thirstiest woman on hearth, you let out an appreciative whimper, “This is heaven, how did you pull that trick?”

Tyler gave you a timid smile, “Got a few barista tricks when I was working at the coffee shop. Made more coffee than I can count.”

The last drops of the warm drink rolled down your throat, and you hummed in delight. Then you looked up to Tyler, who was watching you closely; the concern hadn’t disappeared from his face, and somehow, that felt comforting too.

“Thank you,” you muttered softly. “For the coffee and for…earlier. You didn’t have to intervene.” And you didn’t have to ask about Jeremiah and the accident, you added internally. Even if you would never admit it out loud, it didn't feel so bad to talk about your side of the story to someone actually listening – even if you had presented things roughly.

He offered you a kind smile; a real, non-sarcastic, kind smile, “Couldn’t let my favorite bodyguard in a sticky situation.”

“Except you could have,” you countered in a tired tone, “you could have let those students beat the shit out of me, could have been your opportunity to run away from Nevermore.”

Heavy silence filled the room for a moment; then, Tyler approached closer until his legs touched your knees, gaze boring into yours. You found yourself face barely inches from his once again, detailing every freckles and red angry stretches of his scars.

“Hey,” he breathed out in a whisper, “I’m not letting you down okay?”

“Why?” you whispered in confusion, “I’m an obstacle to you, I could kill you if I’m forced to…why are you so keen on helping me?”

Raising one of his hands slowly, Tyler stroked the edge of the clumsily-put bandaid above your eyebrow, careful not to hurt you, “Because you’re the only one who had come to my defense,” he said softly. “And under that thick shell of yours, I think you understand me.”

His words made your throat feel tight; yeah, maybe you and Tyler weren’t so different after all. Even in a place full of outcasts, you stood aside awkwardly. Little by little, Tyler had come to be perhaps your only friend in that place.

Still, you knew you had to continue to push him away. Not from you necessarily, but from your heart.

The mission at hand was to protect him, but more than anything, you had to protect yourself. No matter how nice and cocky Tyler was, you knew the shell of sarcasm and laid-back attitude you had built for yourself could crumble if you weren’t paying enough attention. But the temptation of letting him in was becoming so, oh so strong. So you allowed yourself to let your defenses down slightly just tonight, and leaned your forehead against Tyler’s chest.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “maybe we’re equally fucked up you and me.”

[Part.4]

A/N: Wenclair? WENCLAIR. When editing I’ve noticed that I didn’t mention Xavier so much in this fic so far; this is not about shadowbanning the character due to the Percy affair going on, I legit just didn’t give much place to his character yet, it’ll come with time (but I legit think he won’t have much place in this fic, I’d rather write about him with him as a main character :DD) (maybe once this fic is over I’ll write for him, I have some ideas for one shots!)

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥ Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

@igotanidea @officerrrfriendly @beggingforxavierthorpe @aliciahlewis @stresseyzesty @katiemrty @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27 @mooniesthings

Usernames unfound by Tumblr:

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin angst #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

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purelillies · 1 year ago

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leshy! ( or deathcards and you! )

or a strange analyzation on leshy, and his deathcards.

this is another long post, just so you’re warning, but leshy! i’m extremely fond of him. maybe it’s all the time i’ve spent, embarrassingly, in kaycee’s mod, but i adore his character. but i can’t help but keep thinking about act one, especially after i fucked up my runs and didn’t know story events depending on deaths, and not runs. my bad.

( another fair warning: this is going to be me, as usual, over-analyzing dialogue for a total of maybe two people and myself, and whoever else is still clinging to this game like i am. )

but what i’m referring to is his attitude towards the player. inscryption is an odd one, considering we have luke carder as a player but it’s also acknowledged in kaycee’s mod that we, us, myself and whoever reading, are also the player.

leshy sounds, for lack of a better word, soft at the start of inscryption. i know that sounds odd, but i see it in how he talks to the player. behold, act one dialogue!

“ fear not “ implies that he thought you’d be worried, though, seeing from your deck and how the game is progressing, you probably have already figured that your cards don’t leave you deck anyway. he’s still telling you though. even for a tutorial, he tries to be more forgiving than he really needs to be for the player. but that’s not what’s majorly differently.

deathcards! yeah, i’m talking about them again, and they’ll take a major focal point, since i think they’re some of the most telling details about leshy.

i find it interesting that he specifically uses favor, when you don’t really have a choice when it comes down to it, and the entirety of the next sentence. yes, in hindsight, deathcards are only a creation he made, but he doesn’t need to continue to make them whatsoever. it shows that it’s his choice to create them, to put a memory and use to you outside of this isolated run.

and the use of “ we. “ he even says as such, that it’s you and leshy working together to create it, rather than leshy deciding the entirety of it for you, which he has done ( assuming from the scrybes since we don’t know much about how he took over inscryption ) and could do again.

but, as resets go by, especially if you win against him instead of dying, he starts to become . . . more aggressive. it’s noticeable in his endgame dialogue, which i don’t have on hand, but as you best him over and over without progressing, he starts to grow frustrated with you. he gets angry when you refuse to eat ( even though we can’t, but still, it’s much more straightforward upset than ever before ) he seems more disheartened when you destroy the moon, but what i find most revealing is the deathcards.

leshy says himself that to live as a beast is the most honorable fate he can see, both in act two and as he admits after winning against him without progressing, and how he doesn’t mean for the scrybes to feel trapped to this fate. of course, it’s completely reasonable they would—they’re contained in cards, and were put into them by force—but to leshy, this is the highest fate he could give them, a place on his board, to serve as a beast. he also does this to kaycee through a deathcard, and we can see from entries in kaycee’s mod that him and her became good friends. these deathcards are, inadvertently, a sign of respect to him.

even if you fail, even if you trip flat on your face, leshy still finds it worth to immortalize you because you tried, and at least if you look through the awareness of the player’s eyes, knowing the challenger is the same person, it makes the finale that much more satisfying. when you initially fail to him, that’s what he feels—a sense of respect because not only are you the first challenger that he’s seen in who knows how long, but you tried, and that’s valuable.

after you dying, you can choose, though from a limited selection, what stats you have, your sigils, your cost, your name. and then, you’ll be a card people can pick from forever. for as long as the copy of the game exists, people can see your card and know your name. you’re a beast, now. you’ve achieved the highest status he can give you.

and then, look at the card you’re given if you win. it’s plain. you can’t chose your stats. sure, you’re a rare card, but you’re only asked your name. and if you look to the door, you can see that you can’t even read your name. i thought, initially, the number one medal would go up depending on how many times you have beaten him prior—like a counter of when you won—but, no. it stays. it’s the exact same for each deathcard. you won, but it’s a sour fate to him, and reflects his feelings to you. you can’t be used. no one can even see your name, just that you won, and what happens to people who win.

with the dialogue you get during the deletion, if you chose him and still chose him for the final duel, along with just the heart-ripping “ please, we don’t need to keep score “ makes me feel as though he’s gained respect for the player, and genuinely had a great time playing his version of inscryption with you and trying to make you live. trying to give you a life and enjoyment even if he’s limited in the power he truly had to show you that. he values you as a person, as a challenger, and as a player in general, just as he values the scrybes.

i wish the scrybes saw that, too, that leshy’s respect for them is reflected in the way that he still made them cards even if they were hidden, that they’re still playable when he could’ve degraded them to much worse. it doesn’t make their fate better, and it doesn’t make what he did better, either, but it’d be nice to know that he still cares, despite what he’s done.

i just like how his respect and emotions towards you as the challenger are reflected through deathcards, and the fact he values them so much that his signature ambience track is literally called “ deathcard cabin. “

and, as an off note, since i wanted to say this too but didn’t want to break the odd flow, he reveals more about himself the more you win, after you win, without progressing. i’m not sure why? you could take it as caving in, or emotions, but i find it interesting as well.

so yeah. dnd with a tree.

#mod lotus [🌊]#faux scrybes’ journey [🌊+💕]#inscryption #kaycee’s mod #inscryption leshy #sorry it’s so odd #i have to work on mobile and it’s like i’m fighting in hand to hand combat with a bear #i’ve never struggled THIS MUCH trying to post something #so if it looks weird my sincerest apologies go to your eyeballs

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skelleste · 1 year ago

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2023 Art Summary

Some of the many things I worked on over the past 365 days. More details below.

Happy New Year!

Just like last year, 2023 was full of even more character art, including a brand spanking new OC. You haven't seen much of the comic yet, because it's not done, but there's been progress on that in the background as well. I also started commissions last March. None are featured in this post so I could focus more on original art, but I wanted to give a special thank-you to all my past commissioners. Not a single one of you were a customer service nightmare, in fact it was quite the opposite. I appreciate everyone who's been kind enough to give me work and treat me well.

The rest of this post is going to be some of my favorite pieces by month, and a little about them. I usually spare my followers from most details in my posts, because there's often not much of interest to the public to say, so this is mostly self indulgent.

January

I decided to revisit Tom and Maudlin, as I hadn't drawn them much since creating them. Whenever I make a new character of importance, I try to go out of my way to put them in varied poses and expressions so that I am able to understand how their bodies work by the time I need them for a real project. It's also a great way to explore their personalities, although I feel that I'll have to push Tom's emotional side more in the future.

February

Props for the comic! It sucks to have to design things on the fly, so it helps to have notable objects designed beforehand. Especially if it's important to the plot. Some of these appear in more panels than others, but it smooths out the comic process nevertheless to have ample references on hand.

March

More character designs to spare me from designing mid-comic production. If they don't have lines in the comic, then I ask random people to assign names to them to make it fun, and because it's easier to keep straight who's who when they're not named Man 1 and Man 2. Left to right, they are Johnifer (you can already see why I name the ones with dialogue myself), Wanda, Jean Vincent, Booker, Charles, Maribelle, and Gertrude.

April

It'd be silly of me to pretend as if 90% of my output isn't shitposts. When you dedicate most of your art time to a project, then you're not going to end up making any other art unless you satisfy primitive monkey brain somehow. In my case, that's usually addressed by drawing funny shit. Early this year is when I discovered how easy it is to crack jokes with Scatterbrain. This goofiness is now embedded into her personality permanently. Expect more of this.

May

April-June is when I do my Art Fight preppin', which usually consists of me making a list of my most neglected OCs and giving them some attention. I also try to get around to eventually making all of them a reference sheet in this style, just so they have something standardized between them. This year, Walla Walla had her turn. She's a shitpost character, so I won't be drawing her much again, but she's a good excuse to draw some J-fashion doodles. My interests outside of cartoon stupidity don't really make it into my art often, so she's a minor outlet for some of it.

June

I've made even more character designs this year than last year, but they were all background characters, making Raoul the only new important one. He's been officially-unofficially written into the story since 2022, but it's very hard for me to make OCs that are written before they are designed. Everyone else was designed first and assigned a role in the plot later, so he got put off for a good while. I finally got around to it though, after I killed some darlings. He is now an all-new species, and I modified the chain design to something less clunky compared to what would be historically accurate.

July

July is, of course, Art Fight month. All other art is put on pause. This year, my favorite attack was a drawing of Enchanted Bones for my friend Bugles. I drew the character independently from the background, which is why the lighting situation is as unfortunate as it is, but we don't talk about that. Thank you to everyone who attacked me and made awesome art, I'll revenge you maybe in a few years. Sorry for the wait, but the backlog is mighty long.

August

Stanson got a slight redesign in the last year, so he can fit with the style of the comic better. He's actually the oldest character out of the bunch. I had no purpose for Scott when I made him and threw them together in the same folder. I had a few one-off designs that I figured I'd keep around in case I ever did an OCT, but these two got yoinked out of it when I started getting story ideas for the them. Stanson is a cowboy (not really), so it became a western setting to make sense of it. I plan on giving him the same sketchpage treatment the other characters have gotten, but I've been putting it off purposely for a while. You'll just have to wait.

September

And there it is, the inevitable page of Raoul getting into various mischief (and subsequently getting his ass beat half of the time). He has a very abrasive personality that gets him into trouble. I don't want the comic to be heavily action-based, but he naturally lands himself in these positions and it lets me draw characters in new situations. His introduction to the story is still a long way off at this point, but I can't wait to pit him against Scott in some slapstick shenanigans.

October

Spooky month is incredibly busy for me in real life, so there isn't as much time for art as I'd like there to be. That's why I dedicated all my time that month to trying to get Halloween art done in time. I've been a fan of Homestar Runner since childhood, and as soon as I thought that Raoul would pull off a Jigen Daisuke look, I knew I wanted to do a full Homestar-esque set of costumes. The other ideas quickly fell into place. My version came out way more detailed than theirs usually are though. The spirit of Halloween possessed me.

November

I started going full gear on the comic around this time (I think 28 hours in one week when I stayed home), so there's an absence of polished personal art here. Scatterbrain eating some spaghetti is my placeholder art for "I worked on a website a bunch instead". It's far from done, but I've made major strides since then.

December

A secret santa gift for my friend, Toby! I continued doing mostly comic work, but I also made room for a secret santa and scheduled a bunch of art trades to complete between December and March. The rest still have to be completed, so you'll see that throughout 2024. Anyway, Toby's OC, Thomas, is based on the state of Michigan. I plastered him on a postcard in front of a highway sign with some Robins because they're the state bird.

There were many more drawings of course, and you can find them scrolling through my Tumblr, or on my DeviantART (I switched to Tumblr as my main site in late August). I hope the new year brings many improvements and happiness for everyone. Last year my goal was simply to start on the comic, which I did, but it was also to get it uploadable, which I didn't. I'm gonna have to aim for the same goal again. Life things were largely fine but still tumultuous enough to throw me off-course, but now my most dangerous family member has moved out and it should be somewhat safer to live here. Not 100% safe though. It never will be. I generally avoid talking about the comic extensively as I won't have a solid release date for some time, so this is the last you'll hear of it for now outside of the rare WIP screenshot. Wish me luck and have a wonderful new year!

#art #artists on Tumblr #Happy New Year #long post #art summary #2023 summary #summary of art #summary of art 2023

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kimmiessimmies · 10 months ago

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"So what's the deal with James and Sadie?"

Today, I posted this post as my response to a tag. In the comments on that post, I was asked if James and Sadie were together now.

I think that's a very legitimate question, so I thought I'd make a post about it. I understand things may be blurry by now. After all, it's been a while since we've seen James and Sadie together in the context of the story, and after the holiday AU posts and other suggestive remarks made about them by myself and other characters, I understand it may have gotten a bit confusing by now.

TL;DR:

James and Sadie are not together, though they have a strong and quite special friendship. Yet I feel the chemistry and ship it along with pretty much everyone else, so I am very okay with using them in tag- and ask game things as if they were together.

The longer story? ⬇️

I decided to do a short summary of where James and Sadie stand in relation to each other:

Current date in the timeline of the story: Early March 08.

Underlined dates are links to the referred chapters on my WordPress blog

October 07: While many things happened before (which are probably also good to know), we need to start somewhere, and this is where everything changes... Sadie, Finn and Rachel start university. Sadie is looking forward to being reunited with Daniel again and goes on a date with him. But as she tells him what she's been up to while they were apart, including her friends-with-benefits situation with Finn, it suddenly hits her she actually caught feelings for Finn... She tells Finn (who also has feelings for her). But also says she needs time to figure stuff out. As she's sitting on a bench thinking things through, she is joined by James. He tells her he's missed her (in the band) and asks her to rejoin. She wants nothing more. And everyone reading this saw the chemistry...

November 07: James and Sadie go to Bridgeport together for an interview about The Hot Wings and spend a night in a hotel room. Sadie has a very heated dream about James, which confuses her greatly.

December 07: Still struggling with everything she feels, Sadie does realise what she once had with Dan is in the past and she tells him so. They let go of each other for good now but remain on good terms. Meanwhile, the sexual tension between James and Sadie, on stage, continues to rise.

January 08: It's the day of the debut album release for The Hot Wings! Emotions and sexual tensions run high. After their performance, Finn comes up to Sadie and asks her where they stand. Has she finally figured out what she wants and is it maybe him? Sadie feels overwhelmed and tells him she needs more time. He gets angry, tells her she can forget all about it then and later she sees him talking to a girl at the bar. All emotions combined, Sadie and James go home together and end up getting the release they needed (in other words, have sex). They end up talking for a long time afterwards during which James talks a little bit about his internal conflicts and issues with love and romance and Sadie admits to herself and to James she's in love with Finn, but has been scared to allow herself to be because of her history with him.

Still January 08: The day after the release performance, it doesn't take long until everyone in the house/ friend groups/band knows James and Sadie slept together and *everyone* has an opinion... Feeling alone and like everyone hates her, Sadie goes for a run, in the snow, to clear her mind. As she sits down on a bench, she gets so cold and feels the cold actually numbs the thoughts on her mind, so she stays out... James notices her sitting there and takes her in from the cold, helps her to warm up and after she's cried out, they have an honest and quite deep conversation in which James tells her about self destructive things he has done. This night brings them closer emotionally.

February 08: The friendship that has developed between James and Sadie is very close, very grounded and rather special. They spend every night together, in close embrace, because they understand each other in a way others don't, but they're not having sex, they're not even kissing. It's not romance. They say.

And that's where we're at right now. The upcoming chapter will bring more changes...

THAT SAID...

I know the Jadie ship is strongly sailing, and my dears, I'm SO on board. Time will tell if they will actually be together or end up with other people as originally intended. But I see the chemistry, I feel the chemistry and when I get the chance I go with the chemistry. Be it in an AU, a random photoshoot or a tag-/askgame.

#my ocs #character development #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #sadie stevens #james wyler

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gayashelljatp · 2 months ago

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Prince Charming x James Hook | Trophy Boy Chapter 2.

Tags :Sorta Enemies to Lovers Fake/Pretend Relationship Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Cinderella (1997), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Prince Charming is a Bi-King, Prince Charming Is Filipino, Because the actor is and I also am one so yeah, Prince Charming gets a lot of bitches but no love, Merlin Academy (Disney), James Hook is gay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't know how to tag in this fandom, No Beta Like Not Going To Castlecoming

Content Rating: Teen and Up.

Wordcount: 7028

Notes (Same On AO3):

The first chapter of this fic is up on my tumblr please go support!!! My Tumblr.

Well hello there, the second part was made!!! This second part was so long that I decided to split it into two chapters. Charming and Hook development happens here. Did they start being friends? enemies? lovers? (Ricky Bowen reference.)

More side characters (Bridget x Ella mentioned and Morgie and Maleficent being Hook's bestie is cannon here.) This chapter is more Hook focused. This chapter was actually edited and helped written by my friend shoutout to her for helping me finish this shit. (So apologies if some part sound completely written by someone else.)

A few housekeeping reminders:

- This fic has multiple POVs for Charming focused parts 👑 emojis are used on the other hook if it's James it's this emoji 🪝.

- It wouldn't be a GayashellJATP fic without a playlist of songs I have on that help immerse you in the universe. Spotify playlist here!!!

Notes (Tumblr):

This is such a late post. This Chapter has been up on AO3. I'm sorry to my tumblr peeps. Still tryna get the hang of this. But thank you so much for the support on my fics here ily y'all.

Chapter 2: The Day-te Before The Ball

👑

It was always an early morning for Christopher Rupert Windermere Vladimir Carl Alexander François Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James, more commonly known as Christopher—or, to the public, Prince Charming.

His day started at the crack of dawn, forcing himself into a princely run to maintain the perfect physique for his and the people's eyes. Afterward, it was straight to bench presses, with Lionel by his side rattling off the day’s duties. By the time the list was done, Charming was already halfway through a hundred push-ups.

After that, a ten-minute shower— it was his favorite part of his mornings and the only time he got some privacy in this rigid routine. He’d belt out a song or two while shampoo was in his hair.

Even while dressing, he juggled paperwork, signing what felt like endless documents. Apparently, being a prince came with a mountain of administrative work no storybook ever talked about.

But today, there was a break in his routine. Instead of reading the morning letters and catching up on the news around his kingdom, he grabbed his skateboard and sped through the halls, headed toward the other dormitory.

He’d asked the doorman for James Hook’s room number, though the name “James” didn’t even exist in their archive. It was simply “Captain Hook.” That, along with a few other things, he’d have to ask about later.

As he neared Hook’s dorm, a flash of green zipped past him. Morgyn Le Fay, the light-haired son of Morgana, ran out of the room, looking frantic—likely late for something. The door swung wide open in his wake. Charming approached and was about to knock, but with the door ajar, he decided to step inside.

Before he could fully take in the room, he was greeted by the sight of Hook—standing in nothing but a towel, hair damp, water still glistening on his skin. Charming froze, eyes wide, before he quickly turned his gaze to the side, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Princey, you’re too early,” Hook drawled lazily, clearly enjoying the prince’s discomfort.

“Early? Royalty are always on time,” Charming replied, still doing his best not to stare. “Don’t you eat at the castleteria?”

“I do, but I like going last minute,” Hook said, smoothing back his damp hair with a cocky smirk. “Looking gorgeous might seem effortless, but it takes work.”

“Can you look gorgeous with more clothes on?” Charming asked, his voice a bit too sharp as he chanced a glance. Big mistake. Hook was barefaced—no signature eyeliner—and his skin looked frustratingly flawless.

Charming’s eyes trailed lower, catching a glimpse of the pirate’s toned abs before he snapped his gaze away. He wasn’t going to ogle. But… he did see them.

“Come on, I’m not that hideous to look at,” Hook teased, catching the prince’s not-so-subtle avoidance. “Why’d you have to look away?”

“I’m just being polite,”

“I thought you were fun,”

“I can have fun looking at my own body.” The Prince meant to sound nonchalant, but it came off as much more vain than intended and more charged. It was blowing the Prince’s cover immediately.

“Oh? You like staring at yourself naked, do you, Princey?” Hook shot back, grinning. He leaned against the doorframe, dripping confidence, and maybe a bit of water.

Charming cleared his throat. “Moving on, please.”

“Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

“Can I come in, at least?” Charming asked, gesturing toward the room. He was trying to keep things casual, though the pirate was clearly getting under his skin.

“I was trying to save you from the mess but if you insist,”

Charming stepped inside. The room was interesting, to say the least. Hook’s side looked like a treasure chest had exploded—clothes, jewelry, and trinkets were scattered everywhere.

Morgie’s side, in contrast, was more organized, though still odd—his bed had animal-print sheets, and a collection of wilted plants lined the windowsill.

“Not what you expected, huh?” Hook asked, now rummaging through a pile of clothes. “Don’t worry, Princey, I’ll tidy up just for you.”

“No need to tidy your stole-” Charming had to remind himself not to be too blunt with him so he stopped midway “Just... hurry up.”

Hook threw on a billowy white blouse, tucking it into his trousers with a smirk. “Patience, Your Highness. Time may be fast but growing diamonds takes forever.” He sauntered over to the full length mirror, lazily adjusting his collar, taking far longer than necessary.

“I just like being punctual now,” Charming said, eyes flicking to his watch. He wasn’t always the best at being on time, but he had been trying to improve lately. The kingdom loved to gossip, and being known as a latecomer wasn’t exactly the reputation he wanted to maintain.

Hook rolled his eyes, still fiddling with his reflection. “Oh, lighten up. You royal types always act like you have a stick up your—”

“Careful,” Charming interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “I’m doing you a favor. You could at least be a little more grateful.”

“Grateful?” Hook spun around, his tone dripping with mockery. “For the honor of breakfast with His Highness? I’m thrilled.” He gave a theatrical bow.

Charming clenched his jaw, trying to hold onto his composure, but it was almost impossible when Hook was being so... insufferable.

“Let’s just go. We can talk and plan over food,” he said, walking toward the door. He paused, casting a sideways glance at the pirate. “If you’re even capable of sticking to a plan.”

👑

The two arrived at the castleteria, and the energy of the room shifted the moment they entered. Charming noticed the subtle glances, and a few whispers trailing behind them as they passed through the crowded space.

Hook, on the other hand, seemed to bask in the attention. When they walked by Hook’s usual crew of villain kids, the reactions varied from raised eyebrows to snickers—Morgie, ever supportive, even let out a playful whistle. Not quite catcalling, but more like encouragement.

The sight of Charming and Hook together was strange to most. They looked so mismatched—Charming was laid back but still had to be regal and composed, while Hook was one to strut.

They got in line, grabbed their meals, and made their way to Charming’s all-too-familiar private room, away from prying eyes. As soon as they sat down, Hook wasted no time.

“So, what’s your plan for this whole sham?” Hook asked, leaning back in his chair. He hadn’t even picked up his fork yet, clearly more interested in getting down to business—or, more likely, getting under Charming’s skin.

“Calling this a sham is unnecessary,” “Please, this is easy. Don’t act like don’t do bad things, I’ve seen the papers,”

Charming just shoved the pancakes into his mouth trying to stop himself from saying anything. “Do you have anything you're not comfortable doing?” He asked, trying to keep things professional—diplomatic, even.

Hook leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as if considering it. “Hm,” he mused. “No, everything’s on the table for me. You can even love me with the lights off if you want.”

Charming nearly choked on his pancakes, quickly covering it up with a cough. He shot Hook a withering look. “In your dreams,” he muttered, trying to keep his cool. But inside, his mind was racing—Hook was too much, and Charming wasn’t entirely sure how to handle him.

Hook, of course, wasn’t phased. “Relax, lad, I’m just messing with you,” he said with a wink. “You’re not this stiff. I’ve heard you're a great date. This is not an arranged marriage.”

Charming, taking another bite, he was gonna ask how Hook knew such information but decided to push forward. “Well, I was thinking we could just act… I don’t know, platonic? Like we’re together were not together, but we don’t have to put on a show or anything. We say we’re a couple, people believe it, and we’re done.”

Hook leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk creeping onto his face. “You’re taking all the fun out of it, Charming. What’s the point of a sham romance if you don’t play it up? Where’s the excitement?” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You and me, strolling around, being all chaste and polite? Sounds boring as hell.”

Charming frowned, hating how Hook always managed to poke at him just right. He liked to have fun—he did—but when it came to Hook, it felt like he had to be on guard and guarded literally. He didn’t know why he kept up the royal façade.

“I’m not boring,” Charming said, defensively running his hands through his hair. “I just think we don’t need to overdo it. This is for show, not for real.”

Hook’s eyes glinted, catching onto something in Charming’s words. “You say that, but you’re so buttoned-up around me, it’s like you’re afraid to let loose.”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Charming shot back, a little too quickly.

“Prove it.” Hook’s voice was smooth, challenging. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes locked on Charming’s. “We’ll make it fun, Prince Charming. You act like you want this to be all business, but deep down, you’re itching for something a little more interesting. Admit it.”

Charming felt his pulse quicken and opened his mouth to deny it, but Hook was right. Part of him did want the thrill, the unpredictability, the spark that came with being around Hook. But admitting that, even to himself, felt too unreal. Instead, he shifted in his seat, trying to regain control of the conversation.

“You have no idea what I want,” Charming said, his voice quieter but edged with tension.

Hook just smiled, that infuriatingly smug smile. “Maybe I don’t,” he said softly. “But I’m starting to get a pretty good idea.”

Hook leaned back, clearly enjoying the tension, the little game they were playing. “This is gonna be more fun than I thought,” he said, his voice a low drawl.

The bell rang, fizzling out the tension in the room, but for Charming, the planning was far from over. Hook stood up, stretching lazily as he prepared to leave.

“Well, see you after class, Princey,” Hook said casually, already heading toward the door.

Charming, not entirely sure why, blurted out, “Wait.”

Hook paused, turning back with a curious smirk. “What? Miss me already?”

Charming panicked the words came out of him without a single thought. “Actually… I was thinking. Maybe we should get excused from class today. It’d give us more time to, you know, get comfortable around each other. Make it easier to pull this off if we actually liked each other’s company.”

Such a smart move Charming. Asking to skip class with him to spend time together. Totally not going to backfire on you.

“Oh? And how exactly do you plan to excuse me from class?”

Charming squared his shoulders, trying to appear more confident than he felt. “You’re the prince’s boyfriend, well pretend boyfriend,” he said, the words slipping out smoother than expected, causing Hook’s lips to quirk into a grin of his own.

“The teachers wouldn’t mind if you skipped. Royal duties call, after all.” Charming added.

Hook’s grin widened, his amusement shifting into something almost… impressed. “You royals always have a way out of things, don’t you? I gotta say, I’m impressed. Using your little privileges for something a bit selfish—kinda hot, Princey.”

Charming didn’t expect the compliment, and for a second, he wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead, he stammered, “It’s not selfish, I just need this to work. We need to make this believable.”

“Mm-hmm, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Hook shrugged, leaning back against the door frame. “I have a stitching & enchantment test in first period and I have a thing in second period, but I can ditch the rest.”

“Of course, school is important,”

“Less of a hassle for me,” Hook said, trying to make it sound effortless, but Charming knew the list of top scholars of the school. James Hook was on it. How did he know this information? it was not because Charming had asked Lionel for any details about the pirate. Absolutely not

“Right. Well, I’ll handle getting us both excused. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Hook’s eyes gleamed as he pushed off the door frame and stepped closer, his presence filling the space between them. “Don’t worry, Princey. I’ll hold up my end of the deal.”

Charming held his ground, even as the tension between them crackled in the air. “We’ll see.”

Hook chuckled, the sound low and lazy, before giving him a mock salute. “You know where to find me.” Then, with one last look that lingered a little too long.

🪝

Sewing & Enchantment should’ve been an easy test for Hook to ace. After all, he’d been sewing up sails and tailoring his own clothes since he was a baby pirate. But today, his mind was adrift, lost at sea, and he couldn’t find the lighthouse—or, more accurately, the answers.

There was a nagging thought, an irritating little itch in his brain, like the screeching of a seagull that wouldn’t shut up. It was Charming’stupid face. With his stupid smile with perfect white teeth that had lingered far too long in Hook’s mind. He hated it. Hated how it distracted him, how his brain kept flashing to the image of Charming’s chin-length, perfectly windswept hair.

What was it about that royal pain in the ass had suddenly become so…painful?

He was finally starting to understand what the others saw in the prince. But of course, no one was as beautiful as himself. Still, he forced his focus back to the test. Come on, Hook, stop thinking about the prince and think about the damn answer.

Maleficent, who sat next to him, had already finished her test, leaning back with her arms crossed. She had a thing for sharp objects—thorns, spindles,and needles. She found them interesting, but her main interests were world domination and, of course a bit of mischief.

The brunette teen rushed through the last of his test, hoping he got everything right. Overthinking wasn’t his style—he preferred being thoughtless and vain. But lately, a certain prince had been taking up way too much brain space.

Maleficent smirked, her voice low so as not to draw attention as she tilted her chair back. “Saw you with your man earlier.”

Hook didn’t miss a beat. “He’s not an object for me to own. He’s not valuable enough to be called mine. More like I’m… borrowing him.”

“Care to tell me what this whole ordeal is?” Maleficent asked, checking her nails with a bored flick. “Yesterday you were bitching and moaning about the prince, and now you’re cozying up to him in the castleteria ? And don’t lie to me, Hook. I saw you smiling .”

Hook leaned back in his chair, flashing her a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just loved the attention, that’s all.”

Maleficent gave him a knowing look, tapping her long nails against the desk. “Come on, Hook. Since when do you keep secrets from me?”

“I’m very good at keeping secrets,” Hook drawled, but the hint of defensiveness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not from me, you’re not.” Maleficent smirked. “Of course, I could always hit you with a truth gummy.

“I’d lose all my friends if you did that.”

“This pirate’s a liar.”

“A damn good one at that.”

Their teacher, Ma’am Odie or more she’d to be called Mama Odie, glanced up from the front of the room, her eyes falling on the two troublemakers. “Maleficent, James,” she said sweetly, her southern charm making her reprimand sound more like a warm invitation. “Y’all can take this conversation outside, please. I don’t wanna disrupt the rest of the class.”

Hook nodded, gathering his things. Ma’am Odie was too sweet to argue with, and Hook wasn’t one to make a fuss unless absolutely necessary. Maleficent, however, shot him a curious look as they stepped outside.

“Now spill,” she said the second they were out of earshot. “You and Charming, huh? You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

Hook rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I will start,” Maleficent drawled, crossing her arms. “You’re all smiles and excuses, but you’re slipping, James. Just admit you’ve got a little soft spot for your royalty.”

“Just because you got fucked over by your ex who left you for royalty doesn’t mean they're all bad… And I don’t like him,” Hook was cracking badly at Maleficent's accusatory woes.

“Bringing up that traitor Stefan means you really want to defend him that badly,” The dark fairy said, giving Hook the look of if you ever bring him up again you’ll be in a 100 year curse.

“Look, it’s just all just some stupid game,” Hook said, trying to dodge the accusation. “He’s just using me. That’s all. I don't like his company.”

“Uh-huh.” Maleficent’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “And what about that slip earlier? Borrowing him? You’ve got it bad, Hook. Just admit it.”

Hook let out a groan, running a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, maybe I enjoy riling him up. Maybe he’s fun to mess with. But like him? Please, that's preposterous!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Maleficent replied, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, if this is all a game for fun, you seem to be enjoying it a little too much.”

Hook shot her a look, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “What about you and Hades? You two have been circling each other for centuries .” Hook is really throwing every single rock at Maleficent and he keeps missing.

Maleficent rolled her eyes but smiled, the hint of affection breaking through her usual cold demeanor. “Hades and I have an understanding. It’s not the same.”

“Right, because no one could ever get under your skin, could they?”

“Exactly. But nice try, Hook. You’re the one getting all flustered over a prince.”

Hook grumbled, but before he could respond, Maleficent leaned in, her eyes gleaming. “Get your act together Captain.”

🪝

Hook sat cross-legged on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, absentmindedly polishing his hook. The sound of the metal scraping softly should've been calming, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Across the room, Morgie was sprawled out on his bed, face buried in his pillow. He looked like a starfish, completely taking up as much space as possible. His muffled voice floated up, tinged with exhaustion. "Magicology is killing me."

“Has Madam Mim been awful to you again?”

Morgie rolled onto his back with a groan. “Yeah. She cares more about my mom’s reputation than teaching me anything useful.”

“That’s ridiculous. She shouldn’t be all bitchy with you, especially since your mom’s way more famous witch than she’ll ever be.”

Morgie sighed, tracing patterns into the sheets. “Well, my mother is public enemy number one in the magical community.”

“Yeah, fair. I’m still surprised they let you in this school with a reputation like that,” Hook teased, but his smile softened when Morgie only groaned again.

“Why are you here sulking?”

“ Sulking ?” Hook raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “I don’t sulk. Pirates don’t sulk.”

Morgie rolled his eyes and shifted to his side, squinting at Hook. “You only polish your hook when you’re trying to avoid something,” he muttered. Then, lowering his voice dramatically, he added, “Are you trying to avoid the prince?” He mouthed the word prince as if it was a forbidden curse like saying his name out loud would summon him.

The brunette haired teen hated how much Morgie knew him.

Hook scowled, flipping the hook in his hand with more force than necessary. “Why is everyone on my ass today about that prince? I’m just going to a ball with him. No big deal.”

“I’d love to go to a ball,” The sandy haired boy said wistfully, “But villain kids are always on the banned list. Even if the invitation says it’s extended to everyone in the kingdom, we both know that doesn’t include me. Le Fays are public enemy number one in the neighbor kingdom Camelot.” His voice dropped in frustration at the last part.

Hook glanced up from his hook, watching Morgie with an amused grin. “You could always just go in disguise,”

“Then what’s the point? What if I meet someone there and fall in love?” Morgie sighed dramatically. “You can’t fall in love with a disguise on. They’ll feel deceived.”

“Are there really no other things to do at a ball than fall in love ?”

“Dancing and food do seem amazing,” Morgie admitted, a little smile tugging at his lips.

A comfortable silence stretched between them. James returned to polishing his hook, trying to focus on the shine of the metal rather than the image of a certain prince’s smile that kept creeping back into his mind.

Morgie turned his head slightly, peering at Hook with half-lidded eyes. “You know, something’s bothering you,” he said, his tone casual but piercing.

“What?”

“You can’t fool me. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Hook’s response was immediate, too quick. His fingers fumbled a little on his hook.

Morgie’s lips quirked up in a knowing smile. “Should I have not mentioned your date? Should I not bring—”

Hook’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not a date and he’s the last thing on my mind right now,”

Morgie sat up, crossing his legs to mirror Hook’s position. “You can’t lie to me, James Hook. I can feel it. You've been weird since last night.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh, and that’s why you’re sitting here, polishing your hook like you’re trying to keep your brain from thinking about him .” Morgie grinned, nudging him with his foot. “Come on, you’re practically gushing over him.”

“ Gushing ? Please,” Hook scoffed, though he felt his ears burning. “I’m just... caught up in this dumb plan. It’s all strategy, Morgie. You wouldn’t get it.”

“Oh, I get it,” Morgie teased, leaning in with wide, curious eyes. “He’s got that whole royal, windswept thing going on, huh? You like it. Admit it.”

“Why are we even talking about this? In the first place.”

“Because you're a hopeless pirate, and I’m your best friend.” Morgie poked him again with his foot, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “So, what is it? The hair? The smile? Or is it the fact that he’s actually not affected by your charms?”

“I mean... his hair is stupidly perfect, right? And don’t get me started on that ‘I’m better than you’ attitude. It’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” Morgie snorted. “Or are you just mad because you can’t quite get under his skin like you thought?”

“Shut up,” Hook muttered, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Morgie flopped back onto his bed dramatically. “God, I love it when you fall for people. Does this mean you're going to be a prince if you marry him?”

Before Hook could correct him, Morgie suddenly bolted upright, his eyes wide on the clock in the side of the room. “Oh, no. I’m late!”

“Late for what?”

“Muse-ic class! I completely forgot I promised Uli I’d help her,” Morgie scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush.

Hook rolled his eyes, still lazily polishing his hook. “Just tell her you were with me. I’m your ‘get out of jail free’ card, remember?”

“Thanks!” Morgie shot back, grabbing his bag and making a dash for the door. “And also, go get your prince!”

Hook scoffed, shouting after him, “He’s not my prince, Morgie!” But even as the words left his mouth, he felt that familiar frustration creep back in.

Ever since Charming had walked—no, sauntered —into his life, Hook hadn’t been able to think about anything else. No matter how hard he tried to push aside the royals' annoyingly confident demeanor had lodged themselves firmly in his brain like an anchor.

With a groan, Hook pushed himself off the bed. He needed air, a break from all this thinking . A walk to the castleteria sounded like the perfect distraction. Maybe he’d grab a drink or... anything to stop these thoughts.

But as he turned the corner into the hallway, his mind still swirling, someone suddenly barreled into him. Hard.

“What the—” Hook stumbled back, glaring at the person who had dared to knock into him. “Watch where you’re—”

His words froze in his throat as he realized who it was. Of course. The universe really had it out for him today.

“Charming.” Hook straightened up, trying to act like he wasn’t rattled by the collision or the fact that his lie had just come crashing into him—literally.

The prince raised an eyebrow, a half-amused, half-annoyed look on his face. “Funny seeing you here, Hook. Didn’t you say you had something to do?”

Hook plastered on his best grin, the one that usually got him out of trouble. “Ah, yes, well, you see... things change. Pirate business. Very important.”

“Pirate business?” Charming crossed his arms, clearly not buying it. “And that involves wandering the hallways during class? Where’s your crew?”

Hook’s smirk wavered just a little. “You know, sometimes pirate business looks a lot like... taking a walk.” He shrugged, trying to seem casual, but Charming’s piercing gaze was making it harder than usual.

“Mhm.” Charming didn’t look convinced in the slightest. “And here I thought I could trust you.But I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

He wanted to make fun of Charming trusting him. But he had to have the upper hook.

“ Avoiding you ?” Hook’s laugh was a little too loud, a little too forced. “Please. Why would I avoid you? You’re... delightful company.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, but the flicker of heat in Charming’s eyes told him the prince wasn’t going to let this slide.

“Right,” Charming said, stepping just a little closer, the space between them shrinking. “Because running into you in the hallway was purely coincidence, wasn’t it?”

Hook shifted uncomfortably, his brain scrambling for an out. “I told you, I’ve got pirate things to–”

“You mean, you’re free ? No classes, no pirate business, just... wandering the halls?”

Hook opened his mouth to argue, but Charming was right. He had nothing. And now, he was caught up in his own rope of excuses.

“Fine,” Hook muttered, crossing his arms in a defensive stance. “Maybe I was... considering taking the rest of the day off. What of it?”

Charming’s smile widened, satisfaction clear in his expression. “Good. Because if you’re free, we’re going to actually sit down and start planning.”

Hook’s stomach twisted at the thought. Planning meant sitting with Charming, hashing out the details, and spending more time in close proximity. And that was exactly what he’d been avoiding. If he just ignored it long enough, maybe the whole ridiculous idea would vanish, and he wouldn’t have to deal with whatever was happening between them.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Hook lied again, his voice too defensive to be convincing. “I just figured this whole fake dating plan didn’t need... overthinking.”

Charming narrowed his eyes, stepping even closer now, his tone lowering as if they were sharing a secret. “Sounds like someone’s scared.”

“ Scared ? Of you? Please.”

Charming’s lips twitched into a smirk, the same one that made Hook’s pulse quicken for reasons he hated to admit. “Then why are you running away?”

Hook opened his mouth, then closed it, searching for a comeback that wouldn’t sound weak. He hated this. Hated that Charming could see right through him. But running away from the truth was exactly what he’d been trying to do.

After a tense beat, Hook exhaled sharply, dropping the act. “Fine. You win, Princey. Let’s plan.”

👑

Charming knew from the start that Hook was going to be a problem.

Getting the pirate to sit still and actually focus on anything was nearly impossible, but this little "accidental" run-in had finally given him the upper hand—or, more fittingly, the upper hook.

The pirate was slippery, always finding some way to avoid responsibility or slink away from their plans. He had finally managed to pin Hook down, so to speak, by dragging him to the gymnasium for a "meeting" that involved more sparring than talking.

Hook was lounging on a bench, lazily twirling his hook, watching as Charming fenced with Lionel. The prince dodged and parried with ease, but there was an obvious frustration building in Hook’s eyes.

“Charming, I’m getting bored watching you win every single match,” Hook called out, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I thought we were supposed to be planning something, not watching you show off.”

Charming grinned, narrowly avoiding one of Lionel’s strikes. “I’m sorry this isn’t entertaining enough for you,” he quipped, deflecting the next attack. “Lionel, do I have any other duties planned for today? Something a bit more exciting for our guest ?”

Lionel, panting slightly but still focused, shook his head. “No, sir. I’ve told you all the tasks for today. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

Charming took a quick glance over at Hook, who was still lounging, his sharp eyes half-lidded with boredom. The pirate twirled his hook absentmindedly, clearly not paying attention to the sparring.

That single glance distracted Charming enough for Lionel to get the upper hand, and before he knew it, Lionel had landed a clean hit.

His first loss of the day. Lionel stood victorious, while Hook let out an unexpected cheer.

“Wait, I cheered for the wrong team,” Hook muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed genuinely amused for the first time that day.

Charming shot Hook a withering look, wiping sweat from his brow. “Lionel, you’re excused,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll deal with him myself.”

Lionel glanced between the two of them, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “As you wish, sir,” he said, bowing slightly. “Try not to get into too much trouble,” he added with a wink before heading out of the gymnasium.

As soon as Lionel left, Hook stood up, stretching lazily before walking over to the weapons stand. He casually picked up a sword, giving it a few experimental swings. “What do you think you're doing?” Charming asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

Hook smirked, twirling the sword in his hand. “You’ve got a thing for multitasking, don’t you? I thought I’d play to your strengths.” He gave Charming a wicked grin. “Let’s spar, Princey.

Charming raised an eyebrow, his competitive spirit kicking in. “You’re on,” he said, readying his stance.

They began circling each other, swords raised, both of them tense and ready. Hook moved first, quick and agile, his strikes more precise than Charming expected. “I think you forget,” Hook said with a mischievous grin, “I have this class too.”

Charming dodged another attack, their blades clashing with a sharp clang . “We have a meeting with the tailor later,” he reminded, trying to regain the upper hand as Hook’s blade narrowly missed his shoulder.

“Ooh, clothes. I love it,” Hook replied with a sarcastic lilt, his sword almost piercing through Charming’s sleeve. “But what color are you going to force me to wear?”

Charming parried, their swords clanging loudly. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he said, his voice strained from the effort of matching Hook’s strikes.

“I’m a considerate prince.” Their blades locked for a moment, and Charming looked Hook dead in the eyes. “But we really need to work on our chemistry—you look like you want to kill me with those eyes.”

“Well, I’m sorry I keep giving you the death glare.”

“I could work on smiling more,” Charming quipped, his breath quickening as they continued sparring.

“Please don’t. You smile enough,” Hook shot back, though the way his eyes flickered away suggested there was something more behind his words. Charming noticed it, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as their swords met again with a loud clang.

Charming saw an opening and decided to exploit it. He flashed Hook one of his signature, brilliant grins—the one that made heads turn at every royal event. It was blindingly confident, and he saw Hook’s steps falter for just a second, enough for Charming to push forward and take the upper hand.

“Checkmate,” Charming taunted, smirking as he pressed the attack.

Hook stumbled onto the floor, his eyes narrowing. “Lad, I think that’s for chess,” he muttered as the match came to an end, Charming’s sword pointed directly at Hook’s chest.

“Well, I bested you,” Charming said with a wink.

Hook groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “You seriously need to work on your endings. Are you gonna take that sword out of my face or what?”

Charming tilted his head, leaning just slightly closer. “I think I like being on top of things.” He said looking down at the other in such a compromising position.

Hook’s brow shot up, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. “No need to get sexual, Princey. I didn’t know you were into doing things in public.” His voice dropped to a low, teasing drawl.

Charming choked on his own sweat, eyes widening as he stumbled back slightly. His face flushed, and for the first time in the match, he felt genuinely flustered. Hook just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on the prince.

Charming cleared his throat, quickly composing himself. “

“Help me up?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Charming muttered, offering Hook a hand, though he purposely avoided looking at the pirate’s face, still reeling from the innuendo.

Hook took the offered hand and pulled himself up, but the contact lingered a moment too long. Their gazes met, and for a brief second, the teasing banter faded into something more charged, something neither of them was quite ready to acknowledge.

As soon as Hook was back on his feet, he leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “You know, you should really work on your defenses, Charming. You’re too easy to beat.”

Charming rolled his eyes, trying to shake off the strange fluttering in his chest. “You’re just... annoyingly good at this,” he muttered, though there was a hint of admiration buried under the frustration.

Hook grinned, sheathing his sword with a flourish. “I try my best.”

Lionel, who had been watching the entire exchange from the doorway, couldn’t help but shake his head with a fond smile.

As he watched the two of them bicker and spar, Lionel muttered under his breath, “Young love... even if they’re too blind to see it.”

🪝

Lunch rolled around, and Hook found himself enduring yet another round of "ball planning." Charming was running through an endless list of hypothetical disasters that could happen on the big day, his voice steady and serious.

Hook, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less about what might go wrong, especially when the conversation shifted to dancing.

"I don't dance," Hook said, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.

Charming blinked, as if he hadn’t heard correctly. "What do you mean? Everyone knows how to dance."

"Well, I don’t." Hook said firmly.

Charming’s lips curled into a smile. "Then I’ll just have to teach you," he said, clearly amused at the idea.

Hook was ready with a sarcastic retort, something about never needing to dance on a pirate ship, when the doors swung open, and in walked Bridget and Ella, hand in hand.

Bridget, the Princess of Wonderland, immediately caught Hook’s attention. She was Uliana’s worst nightmare—the living embodiment of everything pink and bubbly that his sea witch friend despised. Bridget, with her unshakable spirit, was a hard target to torment, much to Uliana’s eternal frustration. Hook had always found it hilarious.

Ella, on the other hand, was quieter, more reserved, Hook mused, watching the two approach. He knew little about her other than that she was Bridget’s partner (Uliana called her Bridget’s lap dog.) and apparently had a tolerance for the constant excitement that followed Bridget wherever she went.

"Hey there," Bridget chirped, her voice light and sweet. "We wanted to bring you a little treat. Tomorrow, we won’t be able to attend the ball, so we’re bringing this as an apology." She waved a metallic pink cloche (That’s what those serving things are called.) in her hand before passing it to Ella.

"It’s okay, B," Charming said with a warm smile. "I know you’re not a fan of parties."

Bridget shook her head, pink curls bouncing with the motion. "No, it’s not that! I’d love to come, but I’m heading back home to Wonderland for a little trip. I’m bringing Ella with me to meet the Wonderlandians." She beamed as if this was the most exciting thing in the world.

"Yay," Ella said flatly, her voice devoid of enthusiasm. Hook couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. He liked this girl’s deadpan delivery—it almost made him regret teasing her in the past.

"She’s totally excited," Hook quipped from the corner, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ella turned her gaze toward him, a knowing look in her eyes that told him she was far from thrilled. Hook nodded at her, as if in silent agreement—meeting new people could be a drag.

Charming, meanwhile, was already moving on. "So, B," he said, "what do you have for us today? And what side effects should I be warned about?"

"Blame the cookbook, not the cook!" Bridget giggled, twirling a strand of her pink hair around her finger. "Well, actually, I’m more of a baker than a cook, but you get the idea."

Charming chuckled, but then turned to Bridget with a more serious expression. "B, I need to talk to Ella about that project we have together, but I’m sure Hook here would love a little company while I’m busy. Why don’t you chat with our resident pirate for a bit?"

Ella on the other hand looked like she was ready to vent to Charming. It was clear to Hook those two were really good friends and Bridget was the ray of sunshine that was in between these two.

Bridget’s face lit up as she practically skipped over to where Hook was seated. "Of course! I’d love to." She plopped down next to Hook, her infectious energy filling the space between them.

"So," Bridget began, her bright eyes fixed on Hook, "how’s the whole ‘dating the prince’ thing going? You two make such a cute couple!"

Hook almost choked on his water, his mind racing for a response. He hadn't exactly agreed to this charade for the compliments, but Bridget was looking at him with such genuine excitement that he had to try.

"Oh, you know," Hook said, waving his hook hand nonchalantly. "It’s... a lot of work. Keeping up with someone as perfect as Charming."

Bridget gasped. "I knew it!" She leaned in closer, her pink curls brushing against his arm. "You’re totally in love with him, aren’t you?"

Hook blinked, caught off guard. He’d been prepared to bluff his way through this conversation, but something about Bridget’s sweet, innocent nature made it harder to lie outright.

It reminded him a bit of Morgie’s bright energy—the same warm, unwavering kindness. His usual defenses felt weaker around people like her.

"I mean," Hook began, trying to sound convincing, "how could I not be, right? Charming’s... charming." He grimaced inwardly at his own terrible pun.

Bridget giggled, clearly delighted. "I knew it! Love is just the best, isn’t it? It makes everything brighter and more magical."

Hook shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. He wasn’t one to talk about love, let alone pretend to be in it. But Bridget’s wide-eyed enthusiasm was almost... endearing. Maybe in another universe they were friends.

"Sure," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Love’s great."

Bridget sighed dreamily. "I’m so happy for you two. You know, I think it’s important to fight for love. It’s like Wonderland—you have to be brave enough to embrace the chaos."

Hook tilted his head, watching her with a curious expression. Despite the intense energy she exuded, there was wisdom to Bridget’s words. "You really believe that, don’t you?" he asked, a note of respect slipping into his voice.

"Of course!" she said, beaming. "I’ve always been a ‘love conquers all’ kind of girl. When you find someone special, you have to hold on tight and never let go."

Hook glanced over at Charming, who was deep in conversation with Ella now. He felt a strange pull in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name. Bridget’s words lingered, gnawing at him in a way that felt both uncomfortable and... intriguing.

"Yeah," Hook murmured, almost to himself. "Maybe you're right." He caught himself and flashed Bridget a grin, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up on him. "But don’t tell him I said that."

Bridget giggled again, clearly thrilled. "Your secret’s safe with me, Hook."

The pirate was trying not to think of the prince across the room.

But just as the thought crossed his mind, Charming looked over at them, catching Hook’s eye for a split second before quickly turning back to his conversation with Ella. Hook’s heart gave an unexpected lurch, and he cursed himself silently.

"Well," Bridget said with a wink, "it sounds like things are going to get interesting for you two at the ball."

Hook just smirked, not trusting himself to say anything else. This whole fake-dating situation was starting to mess with his head—and the worst part was, he wasn’t entirely sure he hated it.

Notes:

Hope you enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated. That was a doozy to edit down, I'm so excited to show more of this to y'all and I hope your ready. (And if you reading this on tumblr. Thank you so much for giving this a read.)

Request go here on my tumblr.

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