#also: having so few tags that you have no clue whats inside‚ descriptions that say ‘im so bad at summaries but please read anyway 🥺🥺’

[celestialprincesse]

That Bodyguard Gaz thought is delicious! Would you eleborate?? The brain worms immediately went to the agent being this cute, cubby, little thing and is very unsuspecting but turns out to be actually very deadly when needed!

Hope you feel better!

Oh she is so cute and clever and fucking insane I love her In my mind I sort of imagined him with my oc Kitty/Houdini, but this could also be read as X reader🎀 Reader goes by codename Hecate and She/Her pronouns💕

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

At exactly 6:14AM, on Tuesday the 17th of October, Kyle Garrick is woken by his phone ringing. Incessantly. Again and again and again. "It's shit O'clock. What do you want?" He grumbles into his phone, sitting up on the edge of his bed with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Captain John Price's equally tired vice crackles down the line. "Laswell needs you. Says she's got someone that needs protection services. That's all she gave." "And she gave you this at 6AM? "It's 01:00 there. She's been busy. Meetup location with the charge is in your inbox."

With that, John hangs up, leaving Kyle to gather his bearings as he opens his eMail app, scrolling to the top of his newly reicived messages to find one with no subject, and no content aside from a street name and address, as well as a time that he assumes he should be there by. If it's from Laswell, and passed down through Price, he knows it's legit. Kate only ever gives him the important ones, either expensive or irreplacable. It doesn't take long for him to be ready, Union Jack cap pulled down over his brow, and a pistol in the inside pocket of his coat, just for good measure.

London is, as always, miserable. The pavements are slicked with rain and the sky is concrete grey, reflected in the cold glass of skyscrapers, towering into the sky like the scales of some rippling serpent. It's hard to spot someone when he's got no clue of their appearance or career. Why they need his protection. All he has is a name, a callsign too, for good measure. Hecate is what they call you. Goddess of witchcraft and magic. That, unfortunately, doesn't particularly narrow his search, not in a city with a whopping eight million people crowding it's pavements and flooding it's tube stations, sitting outside of cafe's or sheltering from the rain in the overhangs of shops.

Kyle, strangely enough, feels nervous. All of the guys have their things - their specialties - and VIP Protection is his. But it's been a long time since he was in charge of someone's life, trying to protect it, instead of taking it, and he suddenly feels incredibly unequipped. He'll be staying with the charge. John told him in a seperate message to bring a bag. At least enough for a few weeks as they settle in to their safehouse kindly provided by the CIA. They've splashed a fair amount of cash to get a place on this side of town, where the streets are clean and the crime rates are lower. His person must be important. He assumes, seeing as he wasn't on the receiving end of a photo or description, that they'll be seeking him out, so he dutifully takes his place outside the quiet café, paying for his coffee with cash. In the fifteen minutes he waits, (having arrived early) Kyle never once lets himself zone out or get lost in his thoughts.

What he doesn't expect to see is you. About as scary as a butterfly and quietly unassuming in jeans and an oversized hoodie, Kyle's curiosity is piqued. "You're Hecate?" He probes carefully, removing his hat to allow you a view of his face, as he does with many of his clients. He finds it stops them from being skittish with him. It's always easier to protect someone who trusts you. That's his philosophy, anyways. "Gaz Garrick?" You inquire back, wary until he slides his driver's license and tags across the table. "File's in my bag if you'd like to see that too." "This is enough. Thank you." He likes you immediately. He likes that you're careful without being outright flippant, guarded but not dismissive.

The waitress gives you an unpleasantly disdainful look, flashing you a tight lipped smile, unlike the flirty one she gave to your companion upon taking his order. "Just a regular builders for me please." Her tense smile is reciprocated as you order your tea, trying to keep the caffeine to a minimum today. You're already jittery.

Kyle opens the door of the black bulletproof SUV for you, watches the way you blink up at him with gooey soft doe eyes, and he struggles to push down the highly unprofessional thoughts that invade his head as he watches you hop up into the car before him, adjusting his cap to stop himself from openly ogling your ass. "You fancy putting the address in the SatNav?" Kyle coos at you, trying not to smother you. He can tell you're skittish. Probably not used to the idea of having someone with you, day in day out watching your every move.

Of course, Laswell would set you up somewhere like Richmond, somewhere quiet and safe. You're clearly someone important if Kate is handling your affairs personally - and his day rate has gone up substantially since joining the 141. The apartment is pleasant, soulless, but nice all things considered. Immediately upon entry, he takes notice of the added locks on the door - three of them, and the dead bolted fire escape. It's good, gives two exits incase one fails, but not so many that you could easily forget to lock the door on one of them and risk compromising your safety. There's a cluster of all sorts of technology strewn on the counter, like you'd set yourself up in a rush and not had time to get fully organised, he assumes you've not been here long.

The next morning you shuffle downstairs to find Kyle looking confused as he stares at the contents of your refrigerator, "You need something? I can swing by the shops if need be." "You have a safe in your fridge." He deadpans, looking down to you, still sporting some thin pyjama shorts and an old Marlboro tee. he can't help but wonder how you look so pretty without even trying. "Oh! Yeah ... that." You mumble, flushing profusely as you stare up at the soldier. "Funnily enough, people don't think to check the fridge. Burglars and whatnot." Kyle startles at your easy mention of being robbed, and the inference that you've potentially dealt with burglary enough to be familiar with the mindset of a potential home invader. "You get burgled a lot?" "Mm. Used to." You mumble as you root through the safe-fridge for a bottle of orange juice, pouring two glasses. Apple juice is Kyle's personal preference, or some sort of smoothie, but he takes the glass from you with a grateful smile. Best to just go along with you, keep you comfortable. Not to mention the warm smile you give him when your fingers brush around the glass has his insides growing warm.

After having met you, a woman so clearly formidable to be protected by Kate Laswell herself, to have earned the nickname of a goddess, Kyle not only finds himself far less nervous - he feels warmly optimistic. He feels, for the first time in far too long, genuine hope for connection.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Might or might not add to this at some point idk n e ways!!!💕

Badly written and not edited so sorray!!

[lotussokka]

nothing makes me lose interest in a fic as fast as seeing the title end with “-Shipname” like we get it youre from w*ttpad you dont have to shove it in everyones faces

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 7)

Chapter Summary: How you and Bucky feel about the presence of your ex-boyfriend.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.3k

Warnings:+18 only, mention to smut, overdrinking, embarrassing behavior due alcohol consumption, Natasha knows stuff, ex-boyfriend, minor jealousy, minor angst, floof, Bucky has a somewhat creep confession, but give him a break, he’s never been in love.

A/N: Another smutless one, I hope you don’t mind. Thank you to my sweet Les for having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

Previously:

Your shoulder brushes against him as you walk past Bucky and he turns his body around, following you with his gaze. He takes a long sip of his drink and places a hand inside his pocket, watching as you approach your ex-boyfriend.  

He tries hard to bury deep down inside him the tug on his chest.

“Oh, fuck…”

Natasha’s curse makes him turn to her and he realizes she’s been watching him, with a dumbfounded expression he’s not used to see on her face.

“What?”

She scoffs and shakes her head, seeming in an estate of disbelief, “This whole time I’d been worried with the wrong person.”

No point. Bucky sees absolutely no point in trying to make it like there isn’t  turmoil twisting inside of him. Not for Natasha, anyway, it would be to no avail. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s a kicked puppy look on his face to make it harder for him to put on any kind of façade.

“Fuck,” he sighs and run his hand harshly over his face, “What the hell is this, Natasha?” He whines, failing at trying to not sound as helpless as he does.

“You tell me, buddy.” She points at him with her glass of vodka, tilting her head with interest.

“Shit,” he exhales, looking down, before his face snaps up at her, “I’m … just weird, I’m not myself these days.” Bucky bites his lower lip as if trying to somehow refrain from spilling the words, but he just can’t, he’s dying to let it all out. He steps closer to her and lowers his voice as much as he can with the loud music beating around them, “I’ve spent almost every day of the last month with her. I have absolutely no desire to see or think of another woman and I have to restrain myself constantly, cause if I had it my way I would call her every five minutes to check in on her, and… and when I’m thinking about her - which is all the time, I fucking swear - I wonder if she’s thinking of me, and now? I mean, right now? I feel like snatching the blade right now on my ankle and shooting it right on that fella’s throat.” Finally taking a breath after his rambling, he points in your direction, before turning to see you right when you’re letting out a small laugh at something the punk has said.

“Wow…” Natasha lets out a whistle.

“A few days ago,” he turns back to his friend, “I snuck into her closet to find out the name of her perfume. And you know what I did next?  I bought a large bottle for myself, like a fucking creep,” sheer frustration plasters on his tone.     

“Oh my…,” Natasha snorts at the same time a mix of incredulity and amusement shines on her eyes, “That’s definitely creepy and it’s even worse than I imagined. The almighty Bucky Barnes, the I’m a whore and proud,” she thickens her voice playfully, moving her arms in a mimicking way, “The I don’t do romance and attachments king is a tiny lost puppy with big blue heart eyes, aww,” she inclines her head as if she’s thinking of him as exactly how she’s just described him.

Bucky tries but he can’t actually find the amusement in all of that. The fact one single woman is making him feel that way is entirely new, unpredictable and… scary as hell. He has no clue where to go from there.

Natasha seems to swiftly catch on his little inner self torment and, after letting out a deep sigh, she puts on a small smile and shakes her head, “Don’t worry Bucky, it’s probably a crush. A big one. But only a crush,” she places her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze, “Y/n is one of my best friends and I know how delightful it is to be beside her. Maybe you’re just infatuated…”

“Maybe…” he exhales and shrugs, “I wouldn’t know… all I know is I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not that I remember…. but I’m pretty sure I would.” He looks at you again while you’re still talking to the Eddie guy.  

“They have history,” Natasha says in a kind voice, following your gaze.

“I know.”

“He was her first and only boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“She thought she was going to marry him.”

“Damn Nat…” he breathes out his frustration, dropping his head for a moment, before raising his downcast gaze at her again, “Yeah, I know that, too.”

“But you’re Bucky fucking Barnes,” she snaps in a more cheerful voice shaking his arm with a enthusiastic force, “Don’t forget that, buddy,” she shoots him a warning glare, “Also, I’ve never seen a brighter smile on that woman than when she’s talking about you,” she beams.   

Bucky’s heart jumps and a quick breathy smile surges on his lips before he takes in a shuddering breath, “I’m not sure what I should do, though.”

“Well, figure it out,” she lets go of his arm and taps on it, “My advice for the night if you should accept it is let it flow,” she shrugs. “Go on with your thing and see what happens. Just try not to hurt you or her on your way, though,” Nat warns.

“I’m not even sure I-Wait,” he frowns after his gaze is drawn to the spot where you are again, “Did that fucker just leave her alone?”

He instantly struts towards you, ignoring Nat’s snicker.

~~~

“Hey,” you smile, gulping down the nervousness down your throat as you approach your ex-boyfriend. The one you haven’t seen ever since he broke up with you months ago.

“Hey,” he offers you a tight but kind smile back.

You halt on your way, the awkwardness building up a barrier on your way as you’re not sure what to do next. Should you give him your hand to shake? Hug him? Do nothing at all? Not once before you had thought that moment would play out between you and Eddie.

But he seems a bit more resolved than you and shrugs, leaning forward and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Congratulations again,” he says, still holding you, “You’re the best and most hard working person I know, you deserve it.”

The small smile in your lips grows wider and you accept the compliment, relieved that the awkwardness seems to be tamed. While you’re so close to him after all that time, you notice he’s wearing the same perfume he’s been wearing for years, the one which would make you sneeze all the time, but you never really said anything.

“Thank you,” you lean back, sniffing discreetly to suppress the sneeze threatening to come out, “I’m happy you could make it,” you add. The fact he’s arrived all by himself grasps your interest, considering how everyone around you would tell you he was probably seeing someone else… however, if he did have someone, he wouldn’t bring them to your party, would he?

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” he says with a gentle tone, but the formality is still there, you notice.  

You two engage in some small conversation and you can’t help but to take him in and realize that, just like the perfume, Eddie looks exactly the same with everything else. The same hairstyle, same grey t-shirt you gifted him on your last Christmas together, the same constant half smile while he talks… he still speaks quietly, letting out just a few small words, which has always forced you to be the one to push on the conversations…

It’s… familiar… even comfortable, you dare say. But if you’re going to be honest with your own feelings, ever since he walked away, you thought you would be yearning to feel that familiarity again, that it would lead you to a sense of… home.

Why it isn’t quite like that, though?

“You look different,” he says as the subjects of small talk seem to come to an ending point.  

You put your previous thoughts aside for later consideration.

“Oh…Different good or bad?” you ask, tilting your head with a small pull in the corner of your lips.

“I don’t know... just…different, I guess,” he frowns and quickly puts on that half smile of his.

“Oh, well… it’s been a while…“

“Yeah… I guess you’re right,” he says, regarding you with a wondering look in his eyes that makes you shift on your knees, “Listen,” he clears his throat, “I was wondering if we could meet to talk one of these days.”

“Oh,” you draw in a breath. Talking to him, having a real conversation, is something you’ve been wanting to do for a long time. It still feels like you don’t fully understand why you’re broken-up. Regardless the time it’s passed, you still feel attached to him somehow, like, no matter how exciting and new, you’re now living someone else’s life and not the one you had planned for you years ago.

“I mean,” he adds before you can give him a proper answer, “We still need to figure out what to do about the condo.”

The words are like cold water thrown at your face. There you are, thinking he wanted to talk about your relationship, but what’s really on his mind is the condo you’ve bought together. Swiftly, you work on putting a small smile on your face, “Yeah… sure, you’re right,” you nod.

“Hey! Eddie!”

Both of you look towards the female voice and your eyes fall upon a beautiful young woman you recognize as one of the members of SHIELD’s tech team. You’ve worked with her on a joined project of the two organizations before. Chloe… you believe her name is Chloe.

She’s waving at Eddie excitedly, calling him over the little group she’s with. She doesn’t seem to notice you’re standing next to him until her gaze meets yours. The wide grin on her face drops into a quick cringe before she nods in a respectful manner and shifts her look away, whispering something at one of the guys in the group.

When you set your attention back on Eddie, you tighten your lips just as you notice how the bone on his throat bobs right before his flustered eyes meet yours again.

“I-I, ahm, gotta go,” he runs his hand on the nape of his neck, “Can I call you later?”

“Yeah, sure.” Your voice comes out calm and controlled.

“It was good to see you,” he says, before placing his hand on your shoulder, “Congratulations again.”

After you give him a small nod as a thank you, keeping the tight smile on your face matching his, he walks away towards the group and the woman. The one your friends kept warning you about, apparently, given how uncomfortable he seemed to be in front of you after you saw her. As soon as he gets there, you see the two of them talking in hushed words. He keeps a safe distance from her, but his hand on her arm is where your gaze sticks on. 

You don’t have the slightest idea of what’s happening with your feelings right now. Minutes ago you were realizing the familiarity of Eddie wasn’t what you expected it to be anymore, but now, seeing him so close to someone else… a beautiful woman, to be more specific, with her long black straightened hair and fancy blue dress holding each one of her beautiful curves…It just crushes you.  A lump grows in your throat and while your gaze flicks around, you feel small… lost… picturing ways you could flee away from your own party at the same time ten years of your life flash in your mind.

The cold, yet gentle touch of metal in your elbow is what takes you out of your own head, “Hey, everything alright?” says the silky and soothing voice.

Your gaze meets Bucky’s while he stares at you with concerned eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes of his…There’s already a bit less  turbulence inside your chest and mind. You think nothing of it, though.

“Yeah, yeah…” you smile, “He, ahm… Some friends called him. He had to go.”

Bucky just lets out a hum – which sounds more like a groan – staring over your shoulder to where the little group stands.

“He said he wants to talk…“ you start, and don’t see when Bucky’s breath hatches catches on his throat, his eyes back on you, “About the condo,” you press your lips, “He said he’ll call me.”

While your gaze gets lost ahead, you have no idea that the sadness in them pinches deep inside Bucky’s chest. If you could read Bucky’s mind at that moment, you would find out that the fact your reencounter with your ex-boyfriend hadn’t ended up in some sort of hope for reconciliation hasn’t left him sad at all, but the lost look in your eyes… makes him wanna hold you in his arms and never let go. Not before punching a douche in the face, of course.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder, side hugging and pulling you closer to him, “You’re the fucking boss now and, look around, ” he gestures with his glass of whiskey to the crowded and jazzing place, ”You have a damn Stark party just for you. We’re all here to celebrate the badass motherfucker you are. You’re not just going to let anything ruin your night, will you?” The corner of his eyes crinkle as he grins at you.

You let out a small laugh, the heaviness inside you slowly slipping out of your body as you allow yourself to synchronize with Bucky’s vibe. You can always trust  the upbeat way he presents the world to you to lift whatever mood of yours up.  You look down at your empty glass and shrugs, “I might need a refill, though…or two,” you shoot him a warning look.  

Bucky’s smile stretches even wider and he lets go of your shoulders to offer his arm, nodding towards the bar, “Shall we?”

You gladly accept his suggestion by wrapping your hand around his elbow and walking with him, not even noticing that Eddie’s gaze follows you with piqued interest.

~~~

Quite a few more drinks later and after listening to Tony’s very nice and very Tony speech on his toast to honor you, you’re already fully invested in your party again. Bucky stays by your side most of the time, but you also come across with a lot of your friends from work and a few others, who are all more than happy to put you high on a pedestal for your promotion and party with you. It stings a bit when Camilla, your friend from work, tells you she heard Eddie and Chole are really together, but two or three more drinks after, you end up hitting the dance floor with a few friends by your side, not even seeing when Eddie leaves the party early, right before Chloe.

You’re happy to see that Amanda, one of Bucky’s friends you met that night in the club, has made it to the party, but you’re already too tipsy and it slips from your attention when she comments on how Bucky has been quite distant from her and the other girls for almost a month now.

If you’re going to be honest, you end up not truly noticing a lot of stuff since you’ve been drinking a great deal more than you’re used to, probably due the drill of having a kickass party thrown for you mixed with the unexpected sight of Eddie with a potential new girl - after months without seeing him. As the alcohol does its thing in your senses, you don’t notice the way Bucky looks at you, the way he holds you a little bit stronger when you’re dancing together, how he glares at the guys who tries to approach you or the fact he only leaves your side when he knows you’re comfortable and safe.

All you see and feel now is the music and the lights as you sway your hips to the beats. The party is almost coming to an end, but there’s still a small crowd of people enjoying their last moments there. The alcohol, the music and your friends, more precisely Camilla, Olivia, Amanda and Nat – the last two in the middle of a flirting contest you fail to notice, as well – are the ones around you. The buzz clouds your mind in a delicious way until your back bumps into a hard wall. Your weakened knees give in but before you hit the floor the wall wraps around you and holds you still.

Oh, you know that hard wall of muscles… You know it pretty well.

“Hey, there.” A foolish smile plasters on your lips at the same time the back of your head leans against the wall so you can see his face. His gorgeous and ungodly sexy face, “Your face is sexy,” you decide it is a very good idea to tell him that now.

“That right?” Bucky smirks, holding your gaze.

“Oh, yeah,” you clumsily turn around to face him, prompting him to grab you tighter since you stumble a bit on your toes. You curl the hand holding your glass around his neck, “And you’re big, too,” you don’t even notice but you’re a slurring mess as you speak and look to see your running hand down his broad chest, roughly probing his muscles, “Very, very big,” you exaggerate a sultry tone, the alcohol erasing any kind of subtleness or refinement in you or the notion that there are people around you, while your hand explores further down his body to say it’s not just about his muscles you’re talking about.

“Sweetheart.” Not making a big fuss about it, he gently grabs your wrist over his lower stomach to place it around his neck along with the other one, ”I’m very flattered to hear that, you’re one very nice piece of ass yourself, too,” he engages with you, keeping the playful tone.

You let out a girlish giggle, turning your face towards your friends, the trio now whispering and laughing among themselves as they watch the both of you, “He said I have a nice ass,” you shout, not realizing how loud you actually are as you lift and shake your hips, making your friends laugh harder and causing you to trip on your toes once again. But of course Bucky catches you before you fall.

“How many drinks, so far, huh?” Bucky chuckles, keeping the hold of his arms and eyes on you.

“Three or four,” you answer with nonchalance, bringing the glass to your lips as you hold yourself on his neck, only to pout when you notice it’s empty.

Your friends scoff at your lie behind you, “You can add at least ten more to that count, sweetheart,” Natasha shouts from behind you, punctuating the word sweetheart with a teasing pull on her mouth. 

You make a dismissive face only Bucky can see, “Nonsense, check out what I can do,“ You step back from Bucky with the intention to put on a yoga pose you’re sure will convince your friends of how ok and steady you are and as soon as you lift your leg, you trip again and this time Bucky is not fast enough to catch you before your ass hit the floor.

The four of them rush to help you out as tears fall down from your eyes at how much you’re laughing, holding your glass up. It’s Bucky who ends up picking you up, though.

He and your friends shower you with questions to check if you’re ok but it all falls like a blur sound to your years.

“Ok, I guess it was a bit more than three or five,” ignoring the curious eyes around your group, you laugh making an ok sign with your hands before your stomach churns and you grimace, placing your hand over it, “Oh…” your face drops.

 “Alright, come one, let’s go,” Bucky supports you with his hands and urges you to walk with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You frown, sounding almost offended as he takes your glass from you and hands it to Natasha, gently pulling you along.

“My place… let’s freshen up, come on,” Bucky patiently says, nodding at the girls to say goodbye, who just nod back, knowing you would be in good hands.  

“Ooooo, bye girls, we’re going to his place to freshen up,” you wink exaggeratedly and make air quotations with your fingers, addressing your friends as you clumsily walk away with Bucky.

~~~

“Bridal style,” you loudly announce stretching your hands and legs to the air as soon as he steps inside his living room with you in his arms.

Bucky can’t help but laugh as a snorting giggle follows your words. If he had his way he would’ve carried you from the party, but he didn’t want to attract even more attention to your state. So, on the second trip on your own feet inside the elevator he picked you up. It would be easier that way.

Bucky carefully puts you standing on the floor and, as soon as he’s convinced you can stand on your feet without stumbling or falling, he turns to shut the door, only to have you jumping on him as soon as he faces you.

“Hey, hey,” he manages to say softly, placing his hands on your hips as you shower his mouth and face with sloppy kisses which taste strongly like fancy champagne.

“What? Let’s freshen up,” you answer in a log slur, dragging your lips on anything of him you can reach.

Bucky laughs, pushing you away with a gentle yet steady touch, looking deep into your eyes, “That’s not what I meant… not when you had so much to drink, sweetheart.” He flicks his thumb on your chin.

It takes a moment or two, but realization – and disappointment- finally dawns on your face, “Oh… you meant freshen up for real…” You shut your eyes and tap your hand on your forehead.

Bucky thinks you’re too damn cute for your own good.

You focus on him again, “Are you sure, though?” You insist, shoving a finger in your mouth and tilting your hips, putting on before him the unsexist pose Bucky has ever seen.

Yet, it’s the most adorable thing and his annoying heart swells inside his chest for you as you keep your attempts of seducing him, “Yeah, I’m sure,” he nods unrelentingly, holding back a laugh and waiting to see the follow up of your shenanigans.

“But I’m horny and I wanted to suck your big dick,” you pout, crossing your arms and thumping your foot against the floor.

Bucky takes in a deep breath. He is only human and can’t help that his poor cock twitches at your bratty whine. But your glossy half open eyes and dragged voice reminds him he’s the only one sober enough to make decisions in the room and therefore, his buddy down there needs to chill, “I’ll be more than happy to allow you to do so,” he’s amused when your face light up, “But not tonight, sweetheart,” he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you towards the kitchen, not without spotting the dirty look you give him.

“You’re no fun,” you complain, barely able to put one foot in front of the other before you stop and swirl around, trusting on his strong hold to not let you fall wearing a devilish little smirk on your face.  

Bucky cocks an eyebrow, waiting for whatever mischievous pearl will come out of your lips now.

“What if…” you start before a hiccup interrupts you, “I show you my boobies?” You offer, leaning over and pressing your breasts together through your dress, “You looove my boobies,” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively even if your eyelids can’t even remain wide open.

“I do love your boobies,” Bucky can’t deny, not hiding his amusement.  

Apparently, that’s all you need to hear before you throw yourself on him again. Bucky swiftly catches you with a huff, but you can’t do much more than circle your arms around his neck and rest your head on him.

“Love your muscles,” you mumble quietly against him, “There are so many of them.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky tries, “As much as I love your boobies and you love my muscles, now it’s not the time. Now it’s time to get you some water, maybe a sandwich, huh? Then I can prepare you a shower and you can rest a bit and… Y/N?” Bucky calls when you’re too quiet- not even making a sex innuendo when he mentions a shower.

He listens a not so soft snore as a response and looks down to see you completely dozed, with your mouth agape against his chest. He sighs… still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, goddammit.

“Guess we can skip right to the resting, then,” he whispers through a fond smile.

Taking you in his arms he walks towards his bedroom and places you on his bed. You only stir a bit when he gently removes your shimmery and apparently uncomfortable dress and unties your heels. He dresses you in a t-shirt of his so you can rest comfortably. He manages to make you drink a little bit of water, to which you whine graciously enough, and, after covering you with a thin blanket – because he knows you’re never really that cold at night, no matter the temperature in the room –  he moves to get up and maybe take a shower for himself.

“Bucky,” you mumble and, without opening your eyes, you move yourself to nuzzle against his metal hand sprawled on the mattress, “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

Bucky is absolutely sure you have no idea of what that question really means to him, how it falls upon the rising tangle of feelings inside him… which is all for you. Wonderful and beautiful and special you, who came unannounced and stirred up something in him he never thought possible. Something he just doesn’t know what to do with.

Moving meticulously slowly not to pull his hand and wake you up again now that you’re deep back into slumber, he lays down beside you. For your question… he doesn’t say anything. Simply because he doesn’t know the right answer yet.

~~~

To be continued. 

[juju-on-that-yeet]

At My Worst (Chapter 1)

Work Summary: Thanks to his enduring popularity in the fandom, The Author pops back into existence and the egos must suddenly contend with someone they thought was gone forever coming back from the dead. No one is more shocked than Dr. Iplier, who can't help but remember how things used to be - and slowly fall back into bad habits, despite his better judgement.

Warnings: Mild descriptions of past violence/discussions of death (more tags on AO3)

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

~

Last he knew, Dark was ripping his eyes out.

Then, he was nowhere and nothing.

Now, he suddenly is, where before he wasn’t, and the rush of sensation returning is terrifying and paralyzing. But he still knows who he is, he knows his name and that he’s a figment, and he remembers his life. Rather, his previous life, he suspects.

It doesn’t take long for The Author to get his thoughts back in order and regain the presence of mind to look around. He appeared standing, and somehow didn’t fall, but he doesn’t trust his legs enough to move just yet. He’s surprised by the fact that he can look around, that the eyes he viscerally recalls losing are back in his head, fully functional. The area he’s in looks familiar, reminds him of the forest his cabin sat in, but it becomes apparent that the place is different now. The trees are less wild, the ground more even. He’s standing on a path, perhaps a nature walk or hiking trail. Last he remembers, there were no such trails in his woods.

He finally walks, letting his instincts take him to where his cabin should be, though he already has a feeling it won’t be found. Sure enough, he goes as far as he can down the trail, leaves the path and goes onward, and eventually finds himself at the edge of a neighborhood. Where the cabin used to be is a two-floor house, probably built for a family with kids, and in the surrounding street are even more such houses.

Author doesn’t know how much time has passed, but clearly, it’s been a long time since his cabin stood. He has to wonder what became of his books, his life’s work. Were they saved by the other egos, or are they forever lost?

For a moment, he isn’t sure what to do. But he’s a clever man, so he thinks. If he exists, surely the other egos must be around somewhere, too. All he has to do is find them. But if they aren’t here, then where?

He walks back the way he came, back to the trail, passing the place he appeared in and continuing onward. By the time he makes it to the trail’s beginning, night has fallen, and the parking lot by the trail is empty. He walks past the parking lot, comes to a road, and walks. It’s not so late that no cars are driving, at least; it only takes a few whizzing by his upturned thumb before one decides to stop.

“Where you headed?” asks the driver, an ordinary-looking man with a moustache. Author wonders how entertaining he’d be in a story.

“LA,” Author says, settling into the passenger seat like he belongs. For having not existed at all twelve hours ago, his easy confidence returns quickly.

“Heh, aren’t we all?” the man chuckles, pulling off the roadside to start driving. “Anywhere in particular? I can put it in my GPS.”

“Not really,” Author says, “Just get me to the city and I’ll take it from there.”

The man shrugs, but doesn’t pry. Maybe he wouldn’t be a protagonist, but possibly a character just there to help the protagonist along, as he is now. Then again, his unquestioning nature would make him easy death fodder, too.

On the way to the city, Author tries to look around the car, just to see if he can figure out what day it is. The radio playing tells him the day of the week and the month before long, but he can’t figure out the year. It’s not a terribly long drive to the city (Author remembers how long it took to get to Dr. Iplier’s clinic, and the distance isn’t that different) (Oh, Dr. Iplier, he must be somewhere too, does he still hate Author for what he’s done?), and once he gets there, Author has but one favor to ask.

“Thanks for the ride, but quick question,” he begins as he unbuckles his seatbelt, “Any chance you have a pen and a notebook in your car I can have? Or even just a sheet of paper and something to write with?”

“Uh, sure,” the man answers, confused by the request but not so much that he won’t grant it. He rummages through the glove compartment until he pulls a notebook with some corporate logo, and a pen with the same branding. “Have these, got them from work a long time ago but I don’t need them.”

“Perfect!” Author exclaims, taking the notebook and pen. He flips through the notebook, taking in the sight of blank pages, empty canvases, ready for him to make his own. “Have a good one, man.”

The man nods, rolls up his window, and drives off, leaving Author standing on a random sidewalk just inside Los Angeles. But he’s not bothered, because he finally has his tools. He can do anything or get anywhere. He knows that Dr. Iplier’s clinic has likely gone the way of his own cabin if it’s been too long, but the egos must be somewhere in the city. Author doesn’t know why he feels that way, but he supposes his instincts have the right idea. He’s always been a creature of impulse, so he does exactly what he did when the sun was up and lets his legs carry him where they may.

When he gets hungry, he enters a fast food restaurant and opens his notebook again, this time to write. While in line, he reads the cashier’s nametag and puts pen to paper: When The Author reaches the front of the line and orders, Stella pays for his meal herself. And she does, without skipping a beat. Author stays in the building to eat, and internally snickers at the confused look he sees on Stella’s face when she realizes what she did, seemingly for no reason.

As far as Author can perceive, it hasn’t been very long at all since he last used his power. But his body can tell it’s been a long time, somewhere deep in his mind knows it’s been forever since he picked up a pen and changed reality to suit his needs. A part of him is glad he’s still got it, but how could he ever lose it in the first place?

Back to walking. It’s late at night, but his mind is too active to be tired. It wouldn’t be the first time he was up all night, whether pacing his cabin trying to untangle the next scene of a story, or painting LA red in search of inspiration, or tormenting a character in the woods, or staying up with Dr. Iplier until the sun came up and he had to return to his clinic in the early hours, yawning through a cup of coffee. Thinking of his doctor only makes Author’s mind buzz even more. How long has it been, truly? What must Dr. Iplier be like now? Can they start over again, now that Author’s been reset?

The more Author walks, the more he feels a pull to keep going. It’s as if there’s a GPS unit inside his brain, telling him which way to go. He has no clue where he’ll end up, but he follows anyway, not having anywhere else to go. Besides, perhaps he’s being led to the other egos, maybe some element of himself is being drawn to them. He still knows that he’s a figment, of course, and that being a figment makes him a little more magical than the average human, a little more special, even ignoring his reality-bending powers. Part of him wants to use his writing to get into a locked car and drive to where the magic inside him is leading, but even at this hour, he knows it’d be quicker to walk.

It’s morning by the time Author feels he’s gotten somewhere, nearly a day has passed since he found himself alive again. By now, the streets are once again full of people and cars, and the swelling sounds of conversation and car horns remind him of his trips into the city with Dr. Iplier. His feet finally come to a stop in front of a huge building. It doesn’t look very different from the other corporate skyscrapers standing along the street and stretching into the horizon, but it radiates magic. It’s a beacon, and Author can tell just by looking at it that this is where he’s meant to be, this is the place he’s meant to stay.

He’s startled out of his reverie by someone bumping into him, barking at him to watch it, and moving hurriedly along. Author is disgruntled, but has little time to get angry before yet another person does the same thing. He moves out of the way of traffic to stand under the magical building’s awning, away from the crowd. Amazingly, no one even seems to see him anymore. No one acknowledges him, or even looks at the building Author is standing in front of. Whatever magic it has, humans can’t see it. Perhaps that’s the point, perhaps the building’s magic is keeping it hidden. Author can’t help but be impressed. If he’s right, it must be Dark and Wilford’s doing; no one else would have enough power. Still, keeping a building shrouded constantly would take a lot of energy, and though Dark and Wilford are powerful, they aren’t powerful enough for something as big as this as far as Author remembers.

As if he needed more confirmation that it’s been a long time since he last existed.

Still, he’s made it to where he wants to be, and he’s not about to stop moving forward now. He walks to the door, pushes the double-doors open, and steps inside.

The doors open up into a wide lobby, high-ceilinged. Off to one side is another set of doors, wooden and old-looking. There’s quite a few other, more typical doors along the back wall, a couple labeled that lead to staircases and some without labels that likely lead to other rooms. There’s also an elevator in the center of the wall. The lobby is much bigger than the outside of the building would suggest, and Author has to assume it’s more magic at work. He has no more time to wonder, because one of the unlabeled doors opens.

Out steps another man, with hair swooped low and orange sunglasses and a tank top with the Bing logo on it, of all things. He stops mid-step at the sight of Author, and Author can’t help but pause, too. He doesn’t know who this person is, but he can tell he’s a figment. Not only that, there’s something too familiar in his hair, his face, his height. This figment is another one of Mark’s.

Author already felt like he’d found the right place, but now he knows for sure.

“Woah, how’d you get in here??” asks the figment, walking up to Author as his shock gives way to confusion. “Wait, are you a new ego?”

“You could say that,” Author replies with a shrug.

“Oh, sick!” the figment exclaims, now grinning with excitement. He reaches out to shake Author’s hand, and his grip is stronger than Author expects. “My name’s Bingiplier, but like, everyone calls me Bing. What’s your name, dude?”

“The Author,” Author answers, a little bewildered by Bing’s energy. Granted, he certainly seems like someone Mark would conjure up as a joke, but most of the true joke egos barely lasted a week.

“Oh cool, you write and stuff?” Bing asks. He frowns for a moment. “I gotta admit, though, I’m totally blanking on what video you’re from. I don’t watch all of Mark’s videos, but like, I don’t think anyone was expecting a newbie to show up soon.”

“I do write,” Author replies, though his mind is buzzing with the new information. No one’s expecting him? Then how is he here? “I can reality-bend with writing. I write it, and it happens.”

“Nice!” Bing says, “That’s, like, super-powerful. We haven’t had a real reality-bender show up in ages. Actually, your deal kinda reminds me of The–”

“Hey.”

A monotone voice, deeper than Bing’s, interrupts. Author and Bing both look to see someone else approaching. Author can’t help but grin, because this is an ego he recognizes. Googleplier’s hair is still long and shaggy, he still has his glasses, and even though figments don’t truly age, he looks older somehow, more mature. He’s not glitching the way he did when Author knew him, and his jaw is stronger, his stature more imposing. It takes a moment for Google to see Author past Bing, and it takes a moment more for him to register what he’s seeing. His eyes widen behind his glasses.

“Author? Seriously?” Google asks, incredulous.

“Wait, you know about him? Did I just miss the memo on a new ego coming or something?” Bing whines before glaring at Google. “Are you here for an actual reason, or just to butt into my conversation?”

“Ollie wants you, you won’t answer his pings, and the others are still charging,” Google answers, deadpan. Bing pauses a moment, face screwed up in confusion, before understanding slowly dawns.

“Oh, he did ping me. I was busy talking to the new guy.”

“Ping you?” Author interjects.

“Oh yeah, I’m an android!” Bing says brightly. “So’s Google, but he’s just the old default.”

“Leave already before you get dismantled,” Google growls at Bing, but his eyes don’t leave Author.

“Ugh, fine,” Bing sighs. He flashes Author a peace sign as he walks away. “See ya round, dude!”

Google waits until Bing is out of sight before approaching The Author.

“How are you here?” he asks, more bewildered than Author has ever seen him.

“You tell me,” Author scoffs, “You were always the know-it-all. All I know is that one second I didn’t exist, and the next second I did.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About a day? Popped into the woods where my cabin used to be.” Author stares hard at Google. “How long has it been? Since Dark tore my eyes out?”

Google hesitates for a long moment before responding.

“Six years,” he says.

Author’s jaw drops.

“Six years??” he gasps.

“Six years,” Google repeats. “It’s 2021, now.”

“When did Bing show up?”

“2017. Four years ago.” Google thinks for a moment. “Technically, that makes him older than you.”

Google’s right. Author was only a couple years old when Dark killed him. At this point, he’s been dead longer than he’s been alive.

“Jesus Christ,” Author mutters. He can hardly wrap his head around it.

“Jesus Christ is right,” Google growls, “How the hell did you get here? You died. You faded away.”

“I already told you I don’t know!” Author snaps. Google gives him a look like he doesn’t believe him. “Look, I appeared, I felt the urge to come here, and now here I am. So now what?”

“Now I have to take you to Dark.”

“Yeah, no. I remember how our last interaction went.”

“You have to,” Google sighs, clearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Every new ego has to meet with him–”

“I’m not new.”

“–And besides, nothing in this building happens without him knowing. I don’t like dealing with him either, but I’m not about to get in trouble for not telling him about you.”

“No choice, huh?” Author sighs. “Alright, let’s get this over with, I guess.”

Google leads Author to the elevator in silence. He presses the button for the sixth floor – the highest one – as Author thinks.

Six years. He still can’t conceive of it. Even for a normal human that’s a decent chunk of time, but for a figment, it’s like a lifetime. Plenty of figments don’t even make it to six years old…though clearly, Google and Dark have, and Author has to wonder who else has. Six years and six floors of this building means a lot of new people.

“Figures you and Dark stuck around,” Author muses to Google, “The fans always do love the grumpy ones. And now there’s Bing, and that “Ollie” and the “others” you mentioned…”

“That would be Oliver, Chrome, and Plus,” Google says, “The three of them are androids, other Google units, in fact.” That fact makes Author bark out a laugh.

“You got clones, now??” he snorts, “That’s awesome. Think I could borrow one for a story?”

“No.” Google’s response is instant, paired with eyes glowing icy blue.

“Alright, alright,” Author sighs, “Six years and you still haven’t gotten a sense of humor.” He pauses for a moment. “How many of us are there now?”

Last Author recalls, there were eight, including himself. Google barely needs a moment to mentally calculate it before he has an answer.

“Twenty-one,” Google answers.

“Twenty-one??” Author exclaims, jaw dropping.

“Twenty-two, now, with you. There’d be even more, but some have faded away.”

“Is anyone I knew gone now?”

“No, the oldest ones are still here.”

That means Dr. Iplier is still here. Author can’t help but feel relieved. He’s not sure what he’d do if he found out Dr. Iplier had faded away sometime during his absence. He’s so cheered by the thought that he forgets why he’s in the elevator until it finally stops at the top floor.

Right. Dark’s still here, too.

“I’ve already sent Dark an internal ping,” Google says as he leads Author out of the elevator. “He’s expecting you now.”

“Snitch,” Author mutters under his breath. Google rolls his eyes, but he chooses not to respond verbally.

The pair pass several doors as they walk, and Author wonders how many of them lead into the bedrooms of egos he hasn’t met. He wonders what Dark is like now. After all, Google seems to have barely changed aside from no longer glitching constantly. But he remembers how the people outside couldn’t even see this building, remembers the sheer size of the place, and knows that Dark must be much more powerful than he used to be to be able to pull it off. Too soon, Google and Author arrive at a door that’s much nicer than the others so far. Google knocks, something that the Google Author remembers would hardly ever do.

“Come in,” says a deep voice from inside. An older voice, but the same one that Author remembers well.

Google opens the door, and The Author steps inside.

Dark is not like Google. He doesn’t look the same as he did before. His hair is longer, swooped to the side. His eyes are still deep brown, nearly black. He’s wearing a suit and tie now, his skin is gray. Most striking is his aura. Where it used to be minimal, only wisps of smoke that showed themselves occasionally, it is now a swarming mass of writhing black tendrils surrounding him. It shakes even as Dark stares evenly at Author from behind a large wooden desk. Dark’s expression is cool and calm, and his hands are folded on his desk, but there’s tension in his shoulders and a hardness in his eyes.

“You’re dismissed, Google,” Dark says to Google, “But do not mention this to anyone.”

Author glances at Google, who nods and leaves, closing the door behind him, leaving Author and Dark alone.

“So,” Author says breezily, pushing down and hiding his discomfort. He’s not scared, but he does feel awkward, and a little annoyed to have to see Dark at all. “Nice place you got here.” He flops into a chair in front of Dark’s desk. “I hear there’s twenty-two of us now, crazy how time flies.”

“Exactly how did you come back?” Dark asks, without a hint of humor.

“I told Google like three times, I don’t know!” Author says, his annoyance getting the better of him. He takes a breath and calms before continuing. “I don’t know. I woke up in a forest, the same one where my cabin is. Or used to be, it’s just houses there now. I hitched a ride to the city and walked until I got here. It’s been about a day since I woke up.”

“I see.” Dark sighs, leaning back slightly in his seat. “This has never happened before.”

“I’ve gathered that.” Author frowns at Dark. “I might as well address the elephant in the room. Are you gonna pull out my eyes again or what?”

“No,” Dark answers, voice tight and aura swarming faster, “I will not. Things have changed since then, that is no longer how I deal with unruliness.”

“Is that what you call it?” Author mutters, “‘Dealing with unruliness?’ Does that make you feel justified for killing me?”

“You’ve been gone for six years,” Dark snaps, “Don’t pretend you know anything!” All at once, Dark’s form cracks, a shadow of himself turns away to scream in frustration. The scream is cut short, the whole thing lasts only a moment. Despite himself, Author nearly jumps out of his skin.

“What the hell was that!?” he shouts.

Dark settles himself, chuckling quietly. His aura calms somewhat, but it continues to churn the air.

“As I said, things have changed.” Dark rolls his neck, it cracks like the vertebrae are clacking against each other. “To put it in a way you would understand, my story has been rewritten in recent years. There’s a lot for you to catch up on.”

“I’ll pass,” Author retorts, “I’m not about to stick around here with you.”

“I’m afraid you have no choice.” Dark’s eyes go steely. “You may have guessed from the large number of us that Mark is much more popular than he used to be, which means we need to be more careful. You recall my desire to unite us all in a single building.”

“The building I died in, right?” Author snaps.

“Yes,” Dark replies coldly, undeterred by Author’s attempt to fluster him. “This building, in fact. The more popular Mark gets, the more recognizable we become, and the more vital it is for us to avoid attention. This building is imbued with magic to prevent humans from seeing or entering, and there are rules about the ways in which we may interact with them.”

“If you’re gonna tell me I can’t write my stories–”

“You can write as many stories as you like,” Dark says smoothly, “And you may use humans as…protagonists, if you so choose. But your stories may not be published, and you may not develop close relationships with humans.”

“And if I break the rules?”

“You get to visit my void.” Dark grins. “A place made of pitch, so dark you cannot see your hand in front of your face, cold and just quiet enough to hear its voices. It only takes a few hours to break someone weak. For someone strong, maybe a week.” He tilts his head. “I suspect a day or two in there, with no one to control and nothing to do, will drive you mad. At the end of a week you’d be tearing off your own skin just to feel.”

Author wants to scoff at the dramatics, but there’s something in Dark’s eyes and posture that makes him believe it.

“What if I leave anyway?” Author asks, “Strike out far away and find my own place?”

“Then you’ll have all twenty-one of us looking for you, whether actively searching or keeping an eye out. Once you’re found, the punishment would be immense. We’ve had egos run off before. The longest one ever stayed lost was eighteen days. Perhaps you could last longer, but your punishment would be that much longer as well. And if my void does not deter you, there’s a holding cell in the basement that’s designed to cancel out magic and keep figments contained indefinitely, where you can stay until you come to your senses.”

Author glowers, considering. It’s clear that he has no choice but to go along with the arrangement, but he’s too stubborn to give in yet.

“Any other rules I should know about?” he asks derisively, “Is there a dress code? Do I have to ask you if I want dessert after dinner?”

Dark glares at Author for a long moment.

“My, not even death could change you.”

He lets his own words hang in the air before continuing.

“The other main rule here is that you cannot harm another ego. Self-defense or defense of another ego won’t be punished, but aggression and attacks will.”

“That’s rich, coming from the one who tore my eyes out,” Author growls.

“You can watch your attitude,” Dark snaps, voice dangerous and aura waving wildly. “I’m still the leader, and you still need to respect me. You may not have changed, but I have, and I am much stronger than you can imagine. If you continue to draw my ire, you will find out just how much stronger I’ve become.”

Dark wasn’t nearly this imposing back in Author’s heyday. He didn’t have this maturity, this intimidating tone of voice, this simmering rage that only shows itself in bursts. He used to be pettier, whiny, more mean than cruel. There was a reason Author didn’t fear him, and it was that he could tell, clear as day, that Dark was threatened by him. But the Dark that sits before Author now is not threatened. He’s angry, but not defensive. He means every word he’s said to Author, and Author knows that Dark will make him regret pushing his buttons if he persists.

So he stays silent for a long moment, and Dark’s aura gradually calms, and his expression smooths back out.

“Good, we understand each other,” he says, “Now, you need to meet the other egos. I’ll call a meeting for the others.”

“Google said the others I was around with are still here,” Author says, remembering, “Are they coming, too?”

“Yes,” Dark says, “But their meeting alerts will have…context. They’ll know it’s you before they arrive.” He sighs then, raises a hand to rub his forehead. “Speaking of context, there’s something you should know before this meeting occurs.”

“What’s that?” Author asks, curious. Perhaps a little nervous, given Dark’s behavior, but he’d never admit it.

“After you died, a new ego appeared, one who looked somewhat like you, who had no eyes. It came about that he had all your memories, but he wasn’t you, isn’t you. His name is The Host, and as far as we all knew…you became him, you were reborn as him.”

Author thought he was done being surprised, being shocked. But this revelation is the worst of all. He became someone else? There’s an ego here that has his same history, and the six years he missed on top of that? A clone like Google has, but one that has a different life, has a life at all. Someone who’s The Author, but isn’t. Someone The Author was supposed to be. The one who came from the ashes of Author’s death. While he spent six years in darkness, this other him, this Host, was living the life that should’ve been his. It only gets worse the more Dark explains. Author hardly perceives Dark’s words, but he perceives their meaning, especially when another name is mentioned. The shock builds and deepens.

It’s not enough that Host now has Author’s body, his memories, his life.

He has his love, too.

His doctor.

Dark explains that Dr. Iplier and Host have been in a relationship for years, and something inside Author crumbles.

This is the man he was so excited to see again, the man he’d hoped he could start over with once he found him. He’d dreamed of that on his long walk to the building, dreamed of Dr. Iplier lighting up at the sight of him, dreamed of them both apologizing to each other for how they ended things, dreamed of them reconnecting, rekindling, loving each other all over again. But the dream shatters further the more Dark speaks, and the more Dark speaks, the more Author’s vision tunnels and the louder the blood rushes in his ears. Dr. Iplier didn’t wait for him. He moved on. He moved on with this facsimile of Author, and did so a long time ago.

Author doesn’t hear what else Dark says, he’s too busy thinking. But no matter how much he thinks the situation over, he can’t accept it. He won’t allow this ache in his chest, this burning in the back of his eyes. Dr. Iplier may have moved on, but some part of him must still love Author, if he moved on with the newer version of him. The way they loved each other was like nothing else, even six years later there’s no way Dr. Iplier has forgotten Author, has forgotten what their love felt like, has stopped missing it. Author will find his way back to him somehow, fix their relationship and fix his own breaking heart.

There has to be a reason Author came back to life. There’s no possible way him and Dr. Iplier could end like this. And Author may be a lot of things, but he’s not a quitter.

He can’t give up on Dr. Iplier, his heart won’t let him.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Full Moon (A White Demon’s Love Song, Part 7.)

Series description: A new job was the reason you found yourself on a lonely road trip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of the Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfunction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.

Part Summary: As the relationship between you and the grumpy shapeshifter finally moved on to the better ground, you knew you were now in the position to ask to see more of the magic that Quilete people could do.

A/N: Okay, okay, okay. I'm back and... Let's get this bad boy running, shall we?

Tagging: @missdictatorme​

Word count: 4.6 K

Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

Jacob sat there in dead silence for a moment, before he looked back at you, just sitting there, chewing the meat and staring at him with a small smile. - "Are you sure that you're in the right headspace? We can talk about this later if you want." - At that, you furrowed. You've asked him to show you the wolf again. Okay, maybe, you've been making a fairground attraction out of his abilities and you weren't afraid to tell it out loud, but you wanted to see the animal again. You were curious about seeing it. - "What are you after?" - You mumbled, taking another bite from your almost cold meal. Dear Lord, you've been sitting at the table for more than half an hour. - "You've hit your head, had a panic attack, fainted twice, and even though, you want to see it again. Don't you have any sort of self-preservation instinct? Or do you just find it exciting to have your life threatened all the time?"

It was played out as a joke and you both grinned, you even let out a small laugh... But it was just reminding Jacob of her. How excited she was to discover the werewolves, that she was fond of learning more about them - more so, there was a short fascination phase. Funny, how things sometimes replayed the exact way it was before. - "Hey, look at it from my perspective. I've been living my whole life listening to fairytales and legends, myths, stories... And now, I've learned that some of them are real. Of course, I want to see it again." - "It's not a magic trick. It's who I am, Y/N." - Jacob looked you dead in the eyes to scare you off a bit, but it hadn't made you even flinch. - "And I do respect that, Jacob." - It was just a whisper, but the five words meant a whole lot.

You were telling him that you're respecting this side of him and that you're not scared anymore. Well, that you're not scared of him, more so - which was fair, there was something way more malicious to be scared of. The cold ones, knowns also as the fricking vam-pi-res which you still couldn't say out loud. And now, it was your conflict as well, whether you wanted to take part in it or not. You were there and you should accommodate real fast, or it's going to cost a lot more than a slight concussion, two faintings, and obviously, making yourself an idiot out of yourself in front of fucking everyone. Which made you furrow. - "How do you even know I fainted twice and that I was acting like an idiot? You weren't here - Seth was with me the whole time." - "It's going to get crazier than it already is... Do you want me to answer this one?" - Jacob furrowed and you nodded. - "Are you sure?" - He asked once more. Again, you nodded

Maybe you thought that you're going crazy, Jacob couldn't tell what was going through that head of yours. So far, it seemed that not that much was going on there. And so, he went for it. - "We can see, hear, and feel our thoughts. The members of the pack a 24/7 access to every thought that has ever gone through your head, every feeling that went through... They can see everything. It's very uncomfortable and scary - but that's how I know what was happening here." - "Like all the time?" - "No, only when we shift and the person shifts around the same time." - Wow. How many boobies did the werewolves have to see? How much of the action... Did they see? Sex was the last appropriate thought in a situation like this one - but it was the most natural one.

Once more, your face was looking like a frozen Windows XP program as you thought about all the dirty secrets they knew about eating others... Well, there weren't any dirty secrets if they simply saw all of them, huh? That was one of the most fucked up things you've heard until that day. - "And can you like... Not share with them?" - You wondered after at least two-minutes-lasting silence. - "When you're good at playing mind games or you're a total asshole, constantly thinking about something unpleasant, theoretically, you can hide some of your memories... But trust me, we've been in each other's heads for enough of a long time. Mind games start to bore you to death after some time." - "But it's better than seeing someone bending Betty from the gas station over a table, ain't it? I'm sorry, but I can't stand the bare thought of seeing my friends... Doing stuff. Yuck." - At that, Jacob snickered - which fluidly translated to a burst of happy laughter. - "I'm talking years of being in each other's heads. Not just... Weeks or months. No matter how hard you'd try to conceal everything, there's always a small moment of vulnerability, which can tell others everything, especially when you imprint. Then you don't care about how the miserable singles perceive your all-day projection of a happy relationship." - Jacob mumbled then, his expression coldening at the end of his statement.

Again, there was this hint of sadness and the other Jacob taking over the wheel, steering the ship for now. Yet now, you were to jump straight into the sadness. - "Come again? Imprinting? And what's that about?" - You asked, reminding him that most of this is all news for you. You've never been inside the consciousness of the pack - you never saw Quil constantly gushing over his precious Claire, or before, you couldn't hear Sam thinking of Emily. At the start, it was sweet, but occasionally, it started to feel like flexing on the members who hadn't found the one yet. - "That's another form of slavery we, as the werewolves, participate in." - Jacob tried to joke around, but the tone of his voice gave him in. - "Okay, I'm ready to hear about that."

It wasn't making Jacob easy to talk about the imprinting, trying to explain it to someone - again. But he did. He talked about endless love where the wolf had no choice but to listen to the damn calling of his imprintee. He couldn't leave, he couldn't just stop loving them, the wolves had no choice in this matter. It was one of the most unfair and disgusting, weird things you've heard about that evening. But it made you think... Maybe this was why Jacob was so sour about Bella all the time. He imprinted - and she just let his trust go, becoming a vampire. She let him suffer, alone and unwanted. - "Did it..." - "No." - Jacob answered before you've even finished your question. So that wasn't what happened either - but you were positive that something similar to it had happened. The idea simply haunted you - how would it feel to fall for someone without choosing to do so? Without any reasoning?

On the other hand, it must've been extremely freeing. Not to think about doing right and wrong, just to do as your head tells you to - to love, admire and care for a person until the point it almost kills you, not to put yourself and your feelings in the first place... Damn. It had pros and cons. - "Okay." - You said when you've settled all the ideas inside your head. - "When we'll be doing it? I mean, when you're going to show me?" - Well, you certainly weren't fucking around. There was no question about IF Jake's going to show you, the question asked was starting with WHEN. On one hand, you've had the right to know more about it. On the other hand, it was none of your fucking business - especially with the vampires lurking around Forks.

And as usual for Jacob, he chooses the less logical solution. - "Tonight. I have a watch over the Ozette lake and I'm supposed to be alone there. Also, it's not probable for the leeches to track us out there." - Jacob was never the best with making good decisions, that was the first thing going on there. The second matter was that Jacob was sure you'd follow him into the woods - and if you'd drop dead again, Seth couldn't be the prince to rescue this time. The third thing about this situation was that it would be most likely the best solution, for a few days, to stick with one of the wolves. The trackers hadn't come across the few drops you've let in the forest when you banged your forehead into a damn root - they'd surely soon do so since it was quite smelly.

Now, when you were on board with everything, it also wasn't so crazy to ask you about borrowing a t-shirt from you. Sure, other boys and mainly Sam won't be too happy with how much did Jacob tell you - yet it was better than you walking around without having any clue. He could leave out some parts, for sure, but why would he do so? He was in a fucking shitty situation - no way in hell would he be pretending that everything on the planet is a-ok. - "Okay." - You chimed happily. Suddenly, you whipped folds with papers on the table, working as you ate the last crumpets on your plate. - "Also, there's this one problem." - "The money doesn't add up? " - Jacob asked back, his eyes glued to the TV. - "No, I'm just almost done with all the papers I was able to find there. You don't have the business for too long, do you?

At this, another bit of the conversation was started - Jacob told you how he got the old workshop from a mechanic who was too old to keep up. Of course, he paid something for the business, but it was more of a symbolic amount of money than a huge sum. Jacob also started to keep the record about all the gigs he has taken since he started to work as the new mechanic; yet despite his best tries, he was a messy person - your help was heavily appreciated in this field. This start-up was just what Jacob needed to leave La Push. He was still spending some time at the weekend in there with his dad, Seth, and his other friends, but now, he was trying to get through life on his own.

He dreamt about going on a vacation to somewhere where it's always sunny and warm, but he was still saving up for the dreamy trip of his life. Which, as you guessed, wasn't going too well. Jacob, being the good-willed idiot, was trying to help the needy people who couldn't afford to pay that much for a mechanic and there was a lot of small amounts of money he just... Let go. Just like with you, with Mrs. Peterson, and a ton of other people. So... He was most likely to spend his whole damn life in Forks. - "Yeah, but I mean... I will be done soon. What should I do when all the papers are sorted?" - You asked when the story was ended. - "Well, since you still have a debt, you might as well help me with the gigs, I suppose. Tomorrow, I have one in Sappho and then two cars in La Push, I think. And a routine check-up at the station... And then your car." - Jacob started to count on his fingers, naming every gig he had written into his calendar. - "I don't know anything about cars. And you've told me that you're gonna do something to me if I even get close to one of your cars. The cars don't like me either, just to let you know." - At that, Jacob laughed into the back of his palm. - "I'll be there and I'll show you your way around the cars, I swear. You won't be letting anyone's car blow up on my watch." - And there, it was the start of something so-called a friendship.

As Jacob promised, it could be around 8 p.m. as you both climbed into the tank he called a car. He made sure you've made yourself some hot tea and put it into a Thermo cup, some food, he so made you take your jacket and his raincoat just to be sure you won't feel cold. The whole ride to the unknown was quiet, yet in a nice way. You've been shifting on your seat expectedly, watching your surroundings. There were woods as far as you could see, nothing but deep and dark woods. Suddenly, Jacob turned off the engine and looked at you. You've been in the middle of literal nowhere, yet Jacob was sure you're just where you've been supposed to be. - "Well, come on, we're here." - The man smiled sadly. He was playing out the worst scenarios inside his mind for the last ten minutes and he was just praying you wouldn't fain when he'd show his wolf form to you. - "We'll be walking for half an hour," - "In this pitch-black night? Are you out of your mind?" - At that weak argument, Jacob snickered quite happily.

"I forgot you can't see that well in the dark." - The man scratched the nape of his neck as he looked around. - "But you'll be just fine, trust me. Let's go." - With a quite loud clap, he ventured to the forest head first, not waiting for what you wanted to do. Unexpectedly, you stood still at the trunk of his car while the wildest thoughts raced through your mind. That man told you, just mere hours ago, that there are vam-pi-res somewhere in the woods and now he wanted you to wander somewhere behind him, orienting only through the sounds of his heavy footsteps... Jacob was surely half-insane, you were one hundred percent sure of that. Suddenly, said crazy man popped his head on the other side of the trunk, making you squirm in fear. First, you ducked and tried to hide, but then, your mind clicked as your brain realized it's only Jacob

"Holy mother of shit." - The curse made Jacob grin, but he didn't say a single word as he leaned his elbows to the sides of the said trunk. - "I swear to God that I'll have a heart attack if you keep fucking around with me. You scared me to death."

"What are you so scared about? I've heard everyone looks better in the dark, Y/N, which makes me the best looking man in all of the Forks and La Push." - At that argument, a wide grin appeared on your face. Sure, you still were a bit tense, but as of now, Jacob's presence was calming you down... Which was a thing you thought you'd never say out loud. In the end, he was one grumpy and scary package. As of now, he was tall as a mountain and pretty well-built as far as you could judge; said man could also turn into a wolf at will, so it was a win-win situation. You had to be safe with him even if you didn't want to. - "Debatable." - It was not much more than a silent mumble when you answered Jacob. - "Come on. Don't be a sissy, nothing bad can happen to you. I can't smell anything inhuman in here. You're safe."

To be absolutely exact, Jacob couldn't smell anything other than you. Not that you'd be smelly or smelling funny, your smell was just outrageously strong, even in an opened, windy space. But he was sure that if any leech would be lurking around, he'd either see or smell them. - "Sissy?" - Was the answer you came up with, leaving the safe space behind the trunk. With never-before-seen confidence, you walked up to the edge of the woods, quite literally pulling your sleeves up in the process. - "You called me a sissy? Well, young man, you just outdo yourself. I'm no sissy." - And just like that, you stumbled to the pitch-black dark forest, walking a few steps forward between mossy, cold trees. At first, you still knew Jake's right behind to watch each of the steps you made, yet as the time passed by, the silence was growing louder and louder.

You've made it a few feet into the woods before you realized that you, in fact, were a total sissy. As you walked out of the edge again, you could now see Jacob resting his back on the side of his car, watching you with a small, daring smile. - "I gave you a minute before you walk back out. You impressed me with your time of a minute and fifteen seconds." - "Oh, fuck off. A forest is a freaky place when you can't see even a foot away from you. I almost hit a tree with my forehead." - With a sigh, you caught the straps of your backpack in your palms and looked at him. - "Well, lucky for you, I have a plan B."

First, you didn't know what he was doing - the man kneeled in front of you while showing you his back, waiting for you to do something. What you were supposed to do was in no way clear to you, to be honest. - "Are you climbing on it or not?" - Jacob asked impatiently after almost a minute of getting his knees wet. Were you doing... What? What did the man just ask you to do? To climb on his back? Well, who were you not to deliver?

With all the concentration you had in you and with the best skill you could have while wearing two thick jackets, you climbed on his back, making sure you were holding to his shoulders as firmly as you could. At first, it seemed to be working - with little to no actual force, Jacob walked at least half a mile with you on his back. The only problem was your ass slowly slipping down with each step he took. And suddenly...

"Oh, loca. Did you hurt yourself?" - As soon as Jacob heard a loud wet thud, he knew you've fallen directly on your ass. Yeah, it did hurt a little, but it was nothing you wouldn't walk off pretty easily. - "No, I think I'm good, it's basically nothing." - A mutter along with a sharp curse word left your lips as you tried to pick yourself hard. And you needed to say that it wasn't the easiest task when you couldn't see more than one and a half feet from you. Jacob watched you trying to find a tree nearby with a smirk on his face before he actually bowed down and made sure to pick you up bridal style.

"I can walk on my own, Jesus Christ, Black! I'm heavy!" - A quiet squirm hit Jacob's ears as he started running with you in his arms as if you were nothing but air. Even though you started to wiggle a bit to show you're not consenting to be carried, the man could hear your heart slowly calming down. Just like that, you felt very safe. - "We can talk about that once you start walking properly. You women really need to work on your marches, let me tell you that." - Jacob answered while making his way forward as if you weren't even there. - "It's hard to walk when you can't see for your dear life." - Was the last mutter you left out before curling up closer to the warmth he radiated as you tried to find a better position for yourself to relieve both him and you.

Jacob remembered the forest trail to lake Ozette from the back of his head. During the day, the place could be lovely when any leeches were around - it was a huge body of water laying as far as an eye could see, some shores were beachy, some of them were covered in reeds. When the summer was warm enough, it was one of Jake's favorite spots to take a swim at along with the boys, especially when they decided they are bored of cliff diving for now. As he thought about that, there were many beautiful spots around Washington the guides didn't talk about and which you definitely had to see for yourself - just like that one meadow high up in the mountains, or the canyon cutting the edge between Quileute and Cullen territory. There was just something simply magical about these spots.

It took him a moment to form the right kind of sentence before he started talking. Which, let's be honest, kinda freaked you out - the man was running around a pitch-black forest with you in his arms and nothing more than jean shorts and a plain t-shirt on, barefoot, let you add and he still found to breath to talk to you amidst all of that. - "You know, if we survive all of this in good health..." - Jacob started carefully. It was meant as a joke, but seeing your eyes widen in horror made him realize this wasn't funny to you. - "I mean, when all this is over, because, we will destroy those leeches and that's a promise, I think I have some secret spots for you that you might want to see." - "But... What about my car? Won't it be long repaired by then?" - Ouch. It was a good question, but it hurt the good-hearted Jacob right in the feels; this time, the mean, grumpy guy wasn't in charge.

Yes, he should focus on repairing your car as quickly as he was capable of just to get you out of Forks for good. As a reward, he wouldn't feel the heavy responsibility for another human being who was fully dependant on him and his pack in this scenario. On the other hand... - "What if we don't get the right parts, huh? I think you should start to prepare for prolonging your stay in Forks and by all means, you should find yourself a good part-time job. Newtons always look for a part-time worker." - Even if you could see just a sheer glimpse of his teeth, you knew he was basically smiling from ear to ear.

"Jacob Black, you're one of the best mechanics I've seen," - Wow. That was a huge compliment. Yet, then the second part of the sentence came to play and it ruined the nice thing completely. - "Truth is, I have seen like... One mechanic working. But you seem to be great at what you're doing and with your love for classic cars, there's no way in hell you wouldn't get my Beetle working." - "You meant do say the wreck, didn't you?" - "Oh, fuck you. No more compliments for you, you get cocky too easily." - To keep you in the headspace of winning that small quarrel, Jacob didn't say a word throughout the rest of the way. It wasn't much longer a mere five minutes later when something very bright hit your eyes.

Oh, it was the moon. It made sense - no clouds were in the sky, it was clear and you've also been miles away from the nearest small town. Here, as it reflected in the masses of water, the moon looked as big as never before. When Jacob put you down, you didn't wait for a signal that the proximity of Ozette if vam-pi-re free and just walked to the meadow surrounding it. As it was to be expected, it was cold as hell - there was a huge mass of water in front of you and the wind was blowing; yet your eyes were basically glued to the big, grey, shiny ball on the sky. - "I told you there are some secret spots you might enjoy." - Black grinned as he pressed something to your hand. At first, you just nodded with your mouth opened as you were unable to look away, yet as soon as you realized you're holding a piece of cloth, it hit you - Jacob walk walking back to the edge of the forest's edge, unzipping his jean shorts. It was happening.

With a soft thud, you took down your backpack and turned head first towards the spot the man disappeared at. Nothing more than a splashing of water and soft howling of the wind could be heard, yet you knew exactly what was happening. And when it happened, the sound reminded you of a quiet, strange explosion, you knew that this time, you've been perfectly prepared for what was waiting for you hidden just ten feet away from the nearest tree.

This time, when you saw it, you hadn't fainted. In fact, you stood perfectly still and watched the majestic animals slowly walking towards you.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.7 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Edge and Red have a brotherly dispute. It goes great.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

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Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge had gone long nights without sleep before. As a child, he’d often spent the night curled up with his brother in hidden corners and caves, struggling for any measure of warmth beneath threadbare blankets as they both kept half-awake listening for any telltale footsteps coming their way.

As an adult, he often stayed awake on his own accord. There was always work to be done, whether for the guard or simple housekeeping, and he subsisted on no more than four hours of sleep a night. It was sufficient to replenish his magic and that was all that was necessary. Armed with that knowledge, it made it very difficult to understand why caring for an infant throughout a single night seemed so much worse.

Every two hours, she woke crying for a bottle, with enough accuracy he could nearly set a clock by it. It would start with a whimper and before Edge could even throw back the blankets, her screams would reach their peak earsplitting volume. Even Stretch couldn’t sleep through those wails and the first two times, he’d been the one to stagger downstairs for a bottle. Edge was certain on the last occasion he never opened his eye sockets, and he was torn on whether teleporting in the midst of exhaustion was more or less a danger than the chance he might fall down the stairs.

Rather than test that theory, Edge went to heat the bottle the next time and if he’d thought trying to comfort the baby while waiting for her meal to arrive was difficult, standing over a pot of water trying to will it to heat faster was somehow worse. At least he could attempt to reason with a baby, physics obeyed no rules but their own.

Each time she would drain the bottle and then immediately fall back asleep. The logistics of it were so simple, retrieve bottle, feed baby, then back to sleep. She didn’t even require a diaper change like so many other infants would, so why was this so blasted exhausting. His current belief was that somehow her cry drained energy like some sort of localized version of a vampiric spell and next time he was determined to run a check on himself to ascertain the truth.

But that would have to wait until they’d all gotten some rest. After her last bottle, not only had the chore of washing it out immediately after use been abandoned, so had tucking her into her own bed. In his sleep-deprived state, Edge decided that if she slept by the wall with him between her and Stretch, then she would be safe from being squashed in the night. As a strategy it did work, for about an hour, until Stretch rolled over in his sleep, right off the edge of the mattress to the floor with a loud thump and a louder curse.

Edge managed to wake up enough to check that he hadn’t accidently dusted himself in the fall and then promptly fell back asleep. The child hadn’t woken, that was the important part, and he could only hope that sleeping children didn’t learn foul language through some form of mental osmosis.

When he woke again, it wasn’t to the baby’s cries, but a stream of artificial sunlight coming through the curtains to fall across his face. He cringed away from it, but it was too late. The light was like the angel’s finger poking him directly in the socket, the time for sleep was over, and now he needed to face the harsh light of day.

A bleary look to one side found the bed empty and what remained of the blankets looked as if a tornado struck, not of trash, but one made up of baby’s tears.

Edge peered over the side of the mattress to find Stretch still snoring on the floor. Sleep was perhaps a less accurate description than out cold, he looked as if an alarm clock set atop his skull wouldn’t wake him. On the floor under his mouth was a darkened patch of drool, he was half-tangled in one of the blankets with one bare leg sprawled out across the carpet, toes curling against the cool air, and he did not stir one single inch despite the loudly creaking bedsprings. Plus, the light couldn’t reach him down there. Edge allowed himself a brief instant of rueful resentment before rolling to the other side to deal with the child, who over the course of the evening dwindled from Stretch affectionately calling her a ‘little snow princess’ down to the simply ‘the kid’.

“It’s all right, child, he’ll do better after some rest,” Edge said blearily…to no one at all. The sheet next to him was empty and for a moment, Edge only stared at it uncomprehendingly, cold panic slowly settling in his soul at the unbearable nightmare that was unfolding before him. That Alphys had found them out and come for her, the machine not destroyed enough and instead the portal was lying wide open like a gaping wound as not one, but an army of Underfell Monsters came through.

He shook away that fear before it could take root, dismissing it as impossible. To begin with, her first step would have been to murder them as they slept. Casting aside that panic only allowed a new one to take its place, the mystery of ‘then where is she’ still unanswered.

She was too young to have crawled away, she was nowhere in the room, so that left one last possibility. Edge clambered out of the bed, stepping over Stretch’s prone body as he jerked on the bathrobe and headed out to find his brother.

Who was sitting peaceably on the sofa with his pilfered infant settled contentedly in his lap, staring up at him with wide sockets as her chubby cheek bones puffed out with every suck on her bottle.

Red didn’t even look up as Edge stormed down to stand in front of him. The fury of his glares had never been able to penetrate much through Red’s aura of casual ease. His brother was humming softly, a song that Edge knew the lyrics to quite well and could at least be grateful that Red didn’t choose to share them with the child.

“’bout time you got up, bro,” Red said, singsong sweet. He was laying back against the sofa arm with the baby cradled between his knees. “you was sleepin’ pretty hard up there. kiddo was awake and getting’ ready to start complaining’ when i came in to play fetch.” His tone was easy, but Edge did not miss the sharp censure in his glance, crimson eye lights coolly assessing.

“I wouldn’t count on it happening again,” Edge said coldly. He met his brother’s gaze unflinchingly, waiting until his brother slowly nodded. Apology accepted, as it were, and Red turned his attention back to the baby.

“this little miss is a hungry one.” He gave the bottle an idle tug, grinning as the baby made a querulous noise and clung to it, never pausing in her urgent sucking. “drinks her weight and then some, don’t she. you were the same way, never could scrape up enough chow to keep you happy.” It was fondly said, but Edge only barely kept himself from wincing. He didn’t want to remember days of going hungry, the gnawing, endless emptiness inside his soul, wanted even less to picture the same thing happening to this child.

(never, never, he wouldn’t allow it, he would not)

“I doubt that will change anytime soon. Speaking of which, if you could watch over her, I’ll be going out today.”

“huh?” That got his brother’s attention. “what the fuck for?”

“To find a job of some sort, to begin with,” Edge said, “We can hardly expect the Swap brothers’ to keep paying our way.” He didn’t have the first clue what formula cost, but he suspected that it was not cheap.

“fuck, bro, we’ve been here two minutes and you’re already polishin’ your resume?” Red groaned. “take a day to get settled in, fer cryin’ out loud!”

“There’s no time for that. I was also going to go to the librarby to find a book on childrearing—”

He broke off as Red hooted a harsh laugh. “you serious, bro? you think you’re gonna find an old copy of ‘what to expect with your skele-baby’s first year’? gonna set up some training time with the local moms, mebbe they can teach you their special parenting attacks. you’ll be captain of the childrearing guild in no time, bro, better start working on your uniform now.”

“You—” Edge began and couldn’t continue, only stood listening mutely as his brother’s laughter soured, his words going bitter.

“think i fucked up that bad with you, is that it?”

It wasn’t at all true. He knew very well that his brother did the best he could, he’d been a child himself, he never should have had to help with an infant. He knew that, they both did, but the words refused to come. Before either of them could say another word, spiteful or otherwise, another voice entered the fray, sleep-sodden and mellow.

“you two loud enough down here?” From upstairs and Edge looked up to see Stretch ambling down the stairs, still yawning and rubbing at his sockets. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, the rest of his lanky bones on display from the crown of his skull to his bare toes, and he had no right to look as simply attractive as he did despite the darkened crescents beneath his sockets.

“sorry, sleeping beauty,” Red snorted, “next time we’ll work on our charades instead, how’s this ta start?”

Stretch ignored Red’s upraised middle finger, slouching closer to peer at the baby. “where did the jammies come from?”

Red jerked his head towards the front door where a paper sack was slumped by the various shoes. “your doggo pal dropped off some clothes. didn’t seem to know what to make of me, think maybe he decided blue went for a big fashion change.”

“bet he’ll appreciate hearing about going goth at the next sentry meeting.”

The mention of pajamas made Edge take a closer look at the child. He’d been so relieved to see the baby was safe that he hadn’t even noticed her change in apparel. She looked like a proper baby now, from the cozy footie pajamas to the colorful bib around her neck. The bottle was long since empty, but she hadn’t yet surrendered on the off chance that perhaps a few last drops might yet make an appearance.

Stretch didn’t wait for her to give up on it and simply took it away, scooping her up despite Red’s disgruntled protests, and cuddled her close. “lookin’ good, sugar butt!”

He buzzed a wet, noisy kiss against her cheek bone and she squealed in delight, then hiccoughed, a dribble of milk running from her mouth that dripped down to stain the bib. “uh huh, like that is it, everybody is a critic.” He swung her gently around and Edge automatically took her as Stretch deposited her into his arms, “here, edgelord, the princess needs a bath.”

A bath. That much was certainly true after a restlessness night of milky dribbles.

Edge didn’t move, he only held her uncertainly, shuffling his feet as he reluctantly admitted, “I don’t know how.”

“it’s easy,” Stretch yawned, his spine popping as he raised both arms over his head with a groan, “just bend over. you’ll have to handle it, you’re young and flexible, my back is talking to me like a bowl of rice krispies. wash her like you’d wash your feet. not too hot on the water and there’s bubble bath under the sink. go easy on it or it’ll be like trying to grab a greased watermelon in an ice storm.”

With that direction, Stretch only stared at him expectantly. There was nothing he could say, no protest to be made, and Edge turned on his heel and went back upstairs to the bathroom. He stood by the empty tub, looking down at the baby in his arms. She looked back at him, her thumb firmly in her mouth and her eye lights wide and bright.

So small and delicate, her skull small enough to fit in the cup of his hand. A tiny being composed of fragile bones, it would be entirely too easily for some careless fool to accidentally hurt her. Even if they didn’t mean to, even if they were only trying to help.

He couldn’t do this.

Edge lurched around, heading out the door and ready to call down to Stretch to admit his uselessness when heard his brother’s voice.

“…tryin’ to tell me how to deal with my bro?” So dangerously soft, a warning rarely given for their intended recipient to take care with whatever they said next.

“actually, no, i’m not,” Stretch said. There was a creak of springs as if he’d settled to sit on the sofa. “i wouldn’t do that to you guys. it’s just, he’s not used to all this, so go easy on him, will you? he’s trying really damned hard, he doesn’t need you ragging on him right now about the kid. he thinks the world of you, you gotta know that. so bust his chops about anything else, the baby is off limits. please.”

He couldn’t see downstairs, so he could only imagine what expression was on Stretch’s face that would be enough to make his brother grumble out, “yeah, yeah, honey bun, i get it. lay off until he lands on his feet.”

“thank you. he’s got this, you know. his confidence only took a shake, happens to everyone when they take a step or two out of the comfort zone. give him a little time, he’ll be a whiz. lining up for his best dad coffee mug before we know it.”

“eh, he’s already doing pretty good, ain’t he,” Red said with obvious pride. Edge closed his sockets, swallowing against the sudden thickness in his throat as he listened. “shoulda seen him bustin’ up that lab, kid never hesitated. just grabbed up the little miss and started wreckin’ the joint.”

“i bet. sorry i missed it.” Stretch said, sincerely, and if there was a certain dark satisfaction in those words, it was certainly understandable.

In his arms, the baby began to squirm, and Edge hastily slipped back into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind them. He settled the baby on the bathmat and turned on the taps, adding a single capful of bubble bath and cautiously checking the temperature before kneeling at her side.

“Ready for a bath?” he asked her, already working to gently strip off her pajamas.

He took her gabbling squeal as a yes and if he, and the bathroom, were nearly as wet as she was by the time she was scrubbed clean, well, that was fine. He’d do better next time.

tbc

[scarlettwitcher]

The Funny Thing About Life

Summary: Dean struggles with the aftermath of a difficult event in his life involving reader. (It’s super vague I know, but if I literally explain anything, it’s all spoilers. I swear it’s good)

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam, Cas, OC!Leu, mentions of Ellen and Jo

Word Count: 5,300

Warnings: Angst up the wazoo, mild description of wounds, also some of the warnings are spoilers so I’m putting them in the tags lol

Author’s Note: Here’s this fic that I wrote a few weeks ago. I haven’t had a chance to post it till now. I was inspired after watching a youtuber play a game based on this concept. If anyone’s curious about the theme I was going for, let me know. I’m very glad to explain. I hope you guys like it, I haven’t written Dean in years lol. I apologize in advance if it’s bad, I’m not good at angst.

Death was inevitable. Dean knew that, Sam knew that, even Cas knew that but given the type of life they lived, they didn’t know when it was going to be permanent or if it was just a never ending cycle of lost heartbeats and gasps for air. Sometimes death was permanent and there was nothing they could do about it, watching countless friends and family pass away right under their noses. Sam and Dean somehow always found a way to cheat death though. Come back and walk the earth as if they hadn’t just been lifeless moments ago. Deal after deal after deal trying to protect each other from what was the inevitable end for the brothers. It wasn’t until you had just danced your way into their lives that they started to value life for what it was without trying to die. You traveled with the brothers for years, keeping them company in the back of the impala, cracking horrible joke after joke, offering your candy to a grumpy dean, or just sleeping the previous hunt away. To the outside world, it probably would’ve been weird just how comfortable the three of you became in a short amount of time but you just understood each other. The brothers had already lived a long and hard life before you came into the picture. They took their necessary precautions when it came to you but in a few short months, you had become one of their own. 

Living a life with the Winchesters was tough and sometimes downright impossible but you proved loyal to them every moment you could, sticking by through their hardest moments. Dean became attached not only to your beautiful face and appealing form but to your kind soul, your caring nature, your inability to give up. If he was to be completely honest, he fell in love with you the moment he first met you but he’d never admit it. He’ll never admit how much your smile can brighten his days instantly, how your laugh is his favorite song over Zeppelin and Jovi, how every moment with you is his favorite. He always had it bad for you since the moment you joined his misshapen crew. Dean could never understand how lucky he got that you even glanced in his direction, let alone fall in love with him too. He was terrified at first. He knew he had destructive habits, moments of lost clarity where he wasn’t himself truly. Having traveled with Dean for years before finding the bunker, you understood this, understood him. You were patient, loving, and Dean would never say it, but in a way you were his salvation. You showed him how to love himself first and how to better improve for himself and not only did he grow and achieve that, he learned how to truly love you. 

“Dean. Dean? Hey!” Dean snapped out of his thoughts of you to look up at Sam as he waved his hands in front of Dean trying to get his attention. Dean looked at Sam emotionless as Sam sighed, flipping his computer around to show Dean some camera footage. “There was a sighting of a man and a woman in New Mexico and caught police attention. Here they are passing through a gas station.” Dean clenched his jaw as he watched the tape play, the man they had been tracking for weeks walking across the aisle, motioning towards the girl to grab food for herself. The girl looked timid, almost broken as she grabbed a few bags of snacks, and water. Even though the tape was grainy and just a bit laggy, he could see the shake in her hands, the tremble in her body, the way her eyes looked everywhere in desperation almost as if she was waiting for someone to save her. The girl looked up at the camera, her eyes wide and teary, one eye clearly bruised up, cheek swollen, lips parted from what only looked like constant abuse. Dean felt the anger boiling inside of him as he pushed the laptop back at Sam, a bit more forcefully than he meant. Sam only let out a quiet click of his tongue as he took his laptop back, scrolling through a few more camera feeds. 

“When?” 

“Two weeks ago.” Dean grabbed the whiskey bottle as he filled his cup back up, throwing the glass back, the amber liquid burning his throat. Dean let out a quiet hiss before moving to refill his glass once more.

“Dean, how much have you drank?”

“Does it matter?”

“You know she wouldn-”

“Dammit Sammy, she’s not here is she?! She’s not here to tell me I shouldn’t.” Dean growled out loudly as he stood, chest puffed out as his breathing became more ragged and hard with every breath he took. Sam said nothing as he stared his brother down, trying to get his thoughts together. Dean was tense and if Sam pushed him, he’d probably break and take it out on him and that last thing they needed was to waste time they could be using to find you. 

“We’ll get her back, Dean. I know it’s only a matter of time but she’ll be home soon.” Dean only shook his head as he grabbed the whiskey bottle, leaving his cup on the table as he made his way towards his room which really was his and yours. Dean walked in, looking around, almost as if he was searching for you from instinct, searching for any movement, smell, any indication that you were in the room, hiding from him like you always did. He clenched his jaw, knowing you weren’t there and he felt the tension building in his bones again at the reality of the situation as he took a large sip from the bottle, trying to drown everything with the golden liquid. He wanted to drown his memories of you, thoughts of you, the smell of you, and forget. Forget you’re gone, out of his reach, forget that he didn’t protect you like he promised and had failed you. 

A month had passed since you disappeared. Dean couldn’t find you and after a week of no contact, he grew increasingly worried. It wasn’t like you to leave without a notice, without a call, or a note, or even a text. Saying that Dean was losing his mind was the understatement of the year. No one had heard from you and not even Cas could tune into your location. Dean denied it. He denied any idea that you had abandoned him, that you were fed up with your life with the Winchesters. He denied the thought that you didn’t love him anymore. Sam reassured him constantly that there was no way you had left him, that you were just as love sick as Dean. 

Another week passed and nothing. That was until Sam found something, or in this case, he was sent something. A video. Dean threw up after the first few minutes of watching the video and he couldn’t stomach watching the rest, leaving Sam to have to watch it, searching for any clues that could aid the brothers. The video was of you, bound and bloody, screaming into a mouth gag as the hooded man carved into your skin, making you sing songs that Dean would gladly never, ever listen to again. You looked like you had gone through hell and back. The man laughed in the video as he finally showed his face. “Hello Deaaanie! You’re probably wondering who I am. You can call me Leu.” The man chuckled as he moved closer to your exhausted form, wincing  as he grabbed your chin hard, making you face the camera. “Say hello to your dear husband sweetie.” 

Your tired eyes fluttered for a few seconds before focusing on the camera. Your lips parted slightly as you took a deep breath. Your throat was sore, like you had swallowed knives from all the screaming. “Dean, baby, don’t.” That’s all that you managed to say before the man slapped you hard, knowing the few specs of oxygen out of your lungs, leaving you almost breathless as you tried to breathe. 

“Well that was lame, I was expecting something more heartfelt. Oh well. Come and find me Dean.” The video went dark after that, Dean’s solemn and terrified face staring back at him. He grimaced and looked away, feeling the shame building inside of him more and more as the seconds passed by. He should’ve protected you better, should’ve been a better partner to you. Your blunt statement started ringing in his ears as he remembered what you said. Don’t. He knew exactly what you were talking about but he couldn’t bring himself to listen to you. How could you tell him not to when he had to and would. Sam had begun to do everything he could, tracing the video, searching for the mystery man in all of the databases, and unfortunately, re-watching the video for anything he missed, anything that could tip him off about your location. 

Dean laid on his bed as he stared at the bottle of whiskey, his anger boiling inside of him, his inability of being able to find you, adding gasoline to the fire burning inside of him. Sam had found a lead though and it seemed promising. He was about to take another sip but the loud call of his name had him running down the bunker, towards the main room where Sam was typing away furiously into his computer. “Dean, look at this.” Sam was about to show him another video feed before the video was interrupted, the skype window filling the whole screen, someone trying to call them. The name showed ‘Unknown Caller’. Sam sighed as he pointed towards the screen. “This is the third time this person calls.”

Dean grunted and clicked on the answer button ready to tell whoever was on the other end to go screw themselves but before the video loaded, there was a soft moan from a woman, one in pain, one Dean recognized all too well. The video loaded in and Dean was face to face with your broken body and the so-called Leu beside you. He had a large grin as he moved closer to the camera. “Finally! I really thought you were ignoring me for a second. Wouldn’t want to make our dear Y/n worry.”

“Son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Dean roared out, almost tempted to punch the computer screen but Sam was very ready to contain his brother.

“Now now Deano, don’t be so rude. We have a guest.” Leu walked closer to you, poking you with the knife in his hand. You stirred slowly, groaning as he touched another wound on your skin. You looked thinner, you clearly lost a lot of weight and that really worried Dean. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“A little late for that remark. I really think I’ve created a masterpiece. So many different hues of blue and purple but my favorite is red.” Leu began to drag his hand across your arm, pulling grunts of pain from you before chuckling quietly as he walked back towards the camera. 

“What do you want?” Sam chimed up when he realized all of Dean’s focus was on you, watching as you struggled to breathe and move. Your bones ached with every movement and there was a point where you just stopped moving, the uncomfortable position better than the burning of your skin. 

“I want you to suffer.” Leu smiled wide as he turned and motioned to you. “It’s pretty easy really. The cycle of life, if you’d like to give it an official name. ”

‘You will pay for this. You will suffer as much as she has and worse.”

Leu let out a full belly laugh as he looked at the camera, wiping away fake tears. “Oh wow I’m definitely trembling in fear.” Both the brothers stared at Leu. If looks could kill, Leu would’ve been assassinated gruesomely. “ You can’t hurt me but I can hurt you. Enjoy this moment because after this, you will never see her again.” Just before the camera cut out, Leu blinked his eyes portraying the black eyes that constantly mocked the brother their whole lives. Demon. 

Dean felt his jaw clench and as he opened his mouth to speak, say anything, the call ended. The screen was blank and that was the last time he ever saw you just as Leu promised and that drove Dean just a bit closer to insanity. Dean didn’t waste a single second before moving back to his room and hastily packing his bag, shaving any clothes he could get his hands on in it. He grabbed his weapons and anything else he needed before moving back towards the main room where a confused Sam sat, typing away at his computer. He looked up as Dean dropped his bag on the floor, moving towards the bookshelf looking for something he also needed. 

“Dean, don’t.” 

“You can’t stop me Sammy.”

“She wouldn’t want this, you know that.”

“I’m leaving.” Finding what he needed, Dean grabbed his duffle bag from the floor before he hastily made his way to the garage. Sam knew better than to try to even reason with Dean. When it came to you, he would move heaven and hell a million times over to get to you. As Dean entered the garage, he threw his bag in the back of the impala, before slipping into the driver’s side, speeding out of the Bunker, a man on a mission. He knew the way to the crossroads like the back of his hand. He had done this countless times, he knew the drills. Crowley was no longer an option and he had to resort to old ways. Pulling up to the location, he moved on autopilot. He opened the trunk and pulled out a tin can, already prepared. Dean double checked it before making his way towards the middle. He set the trap in place before he dug the hole, burying the box.

“You know, we had a bet going to see how long I’d take for you to appear here.” Dean turned to face the Demon. Dean’s expression never faltered, if anything it became more menacing. The demon smirked as it watched Dean, walking around in the circle as she sighed, clearly already bored.

“Then you know why I’m here.”

“Yes… I do.” The demon moved closer to Dean, almost taunting him as her eyes flashed black. She chuckled quietly before clicking her tongue. “Unfortunately for you Winchester, I can’t make the deal.”

“Then get me someone who can.”

“That’s the thing pretty boy, we can’t.” Dean felt his lip curl in anger as he tried to stay composed but it was getting harder with every second that passed that he wasn’t getting what he needed. 

“I don’t want time, trade me for her.”

“I’m sorry Dean but no can do.” The demon was clearly amused and not an ounce of sympathy was in her actions. Dean licked his lips as he nodded his understanding. He rubbed his chin with his thumb before quickly turning and stabbing the demon straight in the gut. The demon flashed as it died on Dean’s blade but Dean showed no emotion. It didn’t matter how long it took, he would find someone who could give exactly what he wanted and what he wanted was you, safe at home. 

Demon kill after demon kill, Dean was relentless. Weeks and weeks of capturing and torturing any demon he could get his hands on. Then, they stopped appearing completely. The demons stopped appearing and Dean was losing his mind. He never had felt so out of loss of control as he did in that moment. He was sitting in his motel, staring at a photo he had of you and him. You were sitting at the bar table with Dean at your left side and Sam on your other. You all had chosen to stop at Ellen's for the night. Sam had gotten up to go to the restroom and left you and Dean at the bar. Dean thought it would be smart to say something funny and you were laughing hard as Dean watched you with a huge smile himself. Jo was working the bar and thought it was a cute sight and snapped a quick photo with her phone. Looking at the photo now, Dean realized this was when he really started falling in love with you. It was super obvious in the way he was smiling in the photo, watching you as you laughed your worries away. Dean ran his fingers across the creases the photo had from the wear and tear of being in his wallet. That moment felt like it was a lifetime ago when it really only was a few years old. 

Dean took a deep breath as he gingerly put the photo back into his wallet before tossing it on his bed. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey he had bought earlier, popping the lid, and taking a big swig of it. The amber liquid burned his throat but he didn't care. He welcomed the pain. He welcomed any distraction from his reality. Dean was no stranger to depression and feelings of inadequacy but this was a whole new level of low. Everything he promised he would and wouldn't do, he had done and that wasn't his biggest failure. His biggest failure was keeping you to himself when he knew you were worth more than someone like him and here you were, paying the consequences for his inability to admit that to himself. Dean felt the anger slowly dissipating, being replaced with the sorrow your absence created. He never wanted to know what life was like without you and now he did. He hated it. 

Dean never stopped looking for you. The days passed and he kept looking, pouring himself into his work, but each day, it was harder and harder for him. He'd drink his pain away, resort to the devil's liquid to get through his days. He became an empty shell of himself. Sam stopped calling after a few months of Dean ignoring his calls. Dean knew his brother deserved better too. It wasn't just losing you that affected him, it was losing his best friend, his hunting partner, his wife. Till death do you part. The few days he was conscious, those words rang through his head. Were you even alive? Had you escaped and just not come back? Was your body at the bottom of a lake? In a ditch? He didn't know and that's what sent him down his dark path. 

After a year passed, his depression got worse but he knew he had to return home. He wasn't Dean anymore and he didn't think he would be again. He felt numb at best. Walking back into the bunker by himself, was a new slap to his face. This was it. He had to accept that you were gone and you weren't coming back. Sam heard the door and made his way to the stairs, staring at what was left of Dean. Dean was thinner, he had new scars, he looked like he hadn't slept in months, and his eyes were just different. "Hey Sammy."

Dean would like to say it happened quick, that he was okay within a year, but that would be a lie. It took him years before he could even say your name again. Sam had finished making dinner and they sat in the library in comfortable silence as they ate before Dean pulled out his wallet, pulling out the photo of the two of you, dropping it between the two on the table. Sam looked at the photo with furrowed brows before looking up at Dean silently asking about it. Dean cleared his throat as he tried to organize his thoughts but in reality, he didn't want to. He was tired. He just wanted to talk. 

"Remember when we stopped at Ellen's? Y/n was just whining and whining about how much she missed her and Jo? She drove us crazy that whole drive?" Dean chuckled quietly as Sam nodded. 

"She said she wouldn't be your friend anymore if we didn't stop there."

"I couldn't believe she had even said that. Thought I was having a nightmare." 

"I mean, we both know she was just fibbing. Had she pushed just a bit more, you would've caved anyways."

"Yeah, she did have me wrapped around her finger, didn't she?"

Sam scoffed and smiled as he stared at the photo. "Since the first day we met her." Sam felt his smile falter a bit as he nodded towards the photo, his eyes flicking up to watch Dean, being careful with how he approached his next question. "Do you miss her?"

Dean felt his eyes water. He wasn't one to cry but when it came to you, the tears always flowed freely. "Always. Every day. I don't think I ever stop missing her."

"You haven't said her name since the day you came back."

"I know. I think I'm ready."

"To talk about her?"

"To let her go." Sam didn't need to ask what Dean meant. He knew exactly what it meant. Sam nodded his understanding before motioning for Dean to finish eating. 

By the end of the day, both boys had organized everything they needed, standing in front of the Hunter's funeral they had created. They didn't have a body to burn but had replaced it with all of your favorite things, everything that made you you. There was a plate with your favorite food, your favorite shirt, and little things you loved to collect. Dean stared at it all. This was it. Sam waited for Dean to ask him to stop. When the minutes passed and he said nothing, he threw the lighter onto the wood, watching as it all engulfed in flames. Dean accepted your death and hoped that you were in heaven, enjoying yourself. You deserved it. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Wake up." Dean furrowed his brows as he looked over at Sam. 

"What?"

"Dean, wake up!" 

Dean jolted awake, pulling the gun out from under his pillow, aiming it at Sam's head as Sam jumped back with his hands in the air. "Woah woah!"

Dean groaned out as he put the gun down, sighing as he rubbed at his eyes. "What's going on Sam?"

Sam sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, hating what he had to do. "Dean, come on. It's today." Dean felt the blood run cold inside of him as he looked up at Sam, feeling the anger raise in his blood. 

"Is Y/n ready?" Sam swallowed thickly before nodding his head. He felt his throat closing up before clearing it. 

"Yeah." Sam didn't want to talk more as he made his way out of Dean's room. Dean let his head fall back into his pillow as he stared at the ceiling. What a fucking nightmare he just had. He looked over at the picture frame he had on the small bedside table. He picked it up and stared at the photo before taking a deep breath. 

"When I come back, I'll tell you all about the nightmare I had. You won't believe it. It felt so real." Dean kissed the frame softly before putting it back on the table. He got up and made his way to the closet, pulling out his fed suit. He remembered clearly that you had asked him to wear his best suit, he had to dress up fancy. You wouldn't accept anything less. He chuckled as he could hear your words echoing in his head. "You better look good Winchester or else you'll feel my wrath. I won't even make you pie for a whole month." 

This feeling in Dean's chest was heavy, it felt like he had swallowed bricks and they were sitting in his lungs, ready to suffocate him. He grabbed a red tie you had bought him just for this. You had to match, you told him when you gave it to him. He stood in front of the mirror, going through the motions he knew all too well. Once he was done, he walked over to his dresser, slipping on his wedding band, smiling at the relief the known weight brought to him. Once he was ready he made his way outside where Sam, Cas, and you were waiting for him. He felt the breath in his lungs be knocked out of him as his eyes fell on you. You were wearing a beautiful red dress, your favorite dress. Your hair was curled and you weren't wearing any makeup, your natural beauty shining through. Dean swallowed thickly as he kept his eyes on you, committing the memory to sight. 

Sam nodded his head to Dean before looking over at you, feeling the swell of emotions bursting in his chest. The weight of the lighter heavy in his palm. He took a deep breath and threw it, watching as you burst into flames from the moment it made contact with your skin. The three boys stood watch as you slowly burned away, moving on to heaven where you wouldn't suffer anymore. "Goodbye baby." Dean murmured as he watched the flames slowly die out. The sky trembled and within minutes, the rain poured onto the men but they didn't care. 

"I'm sorry Dean."

"It's not your fault Cas."

"I should've done better.” 

"It's what she wanted Cas." Cas took a deep breath before turning back to the burned embers of where you used to be, of what's left of you. 

"She deserved better than this."

"That's the funny thing about life isn't it?"

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"What's your name Sweetheart?"

You chuckled as you pulled your knife out of the monster you had just killed. "Wouldn't you like to know sweet cheeks?" Dean chuckled as he licked his lips. Sam joined the both of you as you all made sure there were no more threats. "But if you really long for this information, I'll indulge you. It's Y/n."

.               .               .               .               .               .               . 

"Dean?"

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"This isn't a one time thing right?" Dean frowned as he looked down at you as you laid on his bare chest. The fact that you even had to ask him hurt his heart. He knew in that moment he wanted nothing more than for you to wake up everyday in his arms. 

"Of course not. It never was." Dean kissed your head gently and you hummed your appreciation, slowly succumbing to sleep in his hold. 

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"Dean we need to talk."

"You can't break up with me. We're already married." You let out a choked laugh as you tried to think of the best way to tell him. 

"I need you to be serious with me for a second." Dean felt cold. Whenever you said something like this to him, it was never good news. He didn't say anything and you took a deep breath, unknowingly speaking what would be your demise. "The doctor called me today."

"And?"

"I tested positive."

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"So when do you start losing your hair?" You chuckled quietly as Cas grabbed your hair, looking at it like it would attack him. 

"When I start treatment. Doc said it would be aggressive." Dean sighed as he held your hand and you looked at him with a soft smile. 

"There's still time." 

"No Dean besides, I'm okay with it. I'm not scared to die." 

"But I'm scared to lose you."

"I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere." As much as Dean would've loved to push you, he knew he needed to support any decision you made. He owed you that much as much as he hated it. 

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"We should name it."

"Name what?"

"My sickness duh." Dean looked at you like you grew a second head and you laughed. "Don't look at me like that?"

"Why do you want to name it?" Sam was also looking at you the way Dean was and you rolled your eyes, poking at your food with your fork. As the time passed, it was getting harder and harder for you to eat but Dean pushed you, trying to get you to eat anything. 

"To make it normal. For me." 

Dean took a deep breath as he watched you poke your food before licking his lips. "Alright, I'll bite. What do you want to name it?"

"Well I don't want to name it something outrageous. I was thinking about Leu. "

"Leu?"

"Short for Leukemia. I thought it was clever."

Dean smiled slightly as he nodded. "Very clever."

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"Dean?"

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"Promise me that if you see a girl in a bar and she's hot you'll go for it."

"Now's not the time for jokes." You coughed quietly as you tried your best to scowl at him. 

"I'm not joking. I'm serious. I want you to have a life after me, after all of this." 

"There's nothing after you."

"Don't be such a romantic and promise me you'll live your life when I'm gone."

Dean sighed and remembered his promise to support what you wanted. "I'll try."

"Good. You need some friends." Dean laughed as he moved to get comfortable. Sitting next to the bed where you lay, surrounded by tubes and wires wasn't the best place for comfort but he didn't care. Before he could respond, your nurse came in to check on you for the night. 

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

The day you passed away, Dean was in shock, numb to the world. He never thought it would happen. A whirlwind of doctors running into the room, pushing him out so they could try to revive you, except they couldn't. You signed a DNR. Dean was left with himself, having to watch as you took your last breath. The loud dinging of your heart monitor making him feel like he'd lost his hearing, forever cursed to hear that sound. He didn't sleep that night. He couldn't. Returning to an empty bed, a bed you belonged in, was the icing on top of the shit cake he was handed. He broke a lot of furniture that night. 

.               .               .               .               .               .               .

"Yeah, I guess it is." Dean felt his lungs cut off his air as flashes of memories of you played throughout his head. Sam patted Dean on his shoulder, relaying his silent support. Dean nodded towards him in thanks. The sound of Sam's boots crunching in the dirt sounded behind Dean as Cas moved to stand next to Dean. 

"Did you dress her?"

"Sam couldn't and asked me to. She picked a nice wig. It’s really close to her natural hair."

"Thanks Cas, really."

Cas stayed quiet as he looked at the burnt spot on the floor. He didn't want to leave his friend alone, not during his weakest moments. He knew Sam left because he didn't want to cry with Dean around, it wasn't about him, it was about Dean. Cas smiled slightly as he thought of you. "You can go inside Cas."

Cas nodded as he pat Dean in the back. "I'll be inside."

Dean stared at the floor, the rain completely drenching him. His hair was matted to his head and a slight breeze made his teeth chatter but he couldn't move. He had to stay around just a bit more. His eyes were glued to the ash on the floor. He took a deep breath as his fingers fumbled with his wedding band, trying to figure out what to say. “I know I said I’d tell you about my nightmare later but I think now is a good time. You’ll probably laugh but it started with me and Sammy..”

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[superspookywombat]

Falling {j.h} chapter two

Warnings: slight descriptions of getting stitches, slight swearing

Tags: (sorry if I do this wrong)

sleepy-whore geekysimmerthings mauvette268 treestarrrrrrrr kaleigh404 krazykatkay456  meganlikesfandoms

Cold, nimble fingers strung the thread in and out of your skin. When he had reached for the numbing substance, you had declined. The less money this costs, the better. You had said, covering up the true reason you said no. You, like your sister, got hurt a lot. But you didn’t mind, because being hurt reassured you that buried underneath everyone elses’ pain, yours was still there. You look away from the wound and watch Dr. Cullen work, his hands moving faster and more elegantly than any doctor you’ve ever had stitching you up before. 

“So, how are you liking Forks?” He asks. Knowing that you’d be asked this same question a million more times in the upcoming weeks, you answered honestly, but didn’t go into too much detail. 

“It’s nice. Quiet. I like the rain.” You say. He looks up at you, quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow. 

“And you’re positive that you and Bella are related?” He gives a small smirk. You chuckle dryly. 

“I was going to ask you how you knew my sister, but knowing her she’s probably been in here a few times already.” You say, flinching as the needle pokes into your skin again. He doesn’t answer as quickly as he had been, making you glance at his face. He seemed to be contemplating something, or angry with himself that he had revealed some sacred information. 

“Bella and my son, Edward, are courting.” He answers. Courting? Okay, grandpa. You make a face. 

“But you look so young.” He smiles at your response, as if there’s some sort of inside joke you were missing out on. The man looks no older than 30. Definitely not old enough to have a 17 year old. 

“My wife and I adopted him, along with our other children.” He answers. Instantly, hundreds of questions bombard your brain. Not only was this guy a damn good doctor, he also adopted teenagers? What a guy. 

“How many kids do you guys have?” You ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Five.” He says nonchalantly. Your jaw drops at his answer. Renee had her hands full with just you over the last six months, but five kids? Your mom would combust.

“Wow.” You say, deciding that you wouldn’t interrogate the poor man any longer. He chuckles, pulling the thread up and cutting it with some scissors.

“I’ve always admired Esme for her patience.” He says. 

“Esme.” You repeat. The name dances around on your tongue, familiarity teasing your tastebuds. He looks at you, probably wondering why you had repeated his wife’s name. You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of a daze. “Such a beautiful name.” 

“I agree.” He says. Stepping away from the hospital bed, he grabs the clipboard to sign release papers. “Hopefully I won’t see you in here anytime soon.” 

“I’m not promising anything. Thanks, Dr. Cullen.” You give him a small smile, and pull back the curtains.

-------------------------------------------

You hop onto the scratchy seats in Bella’s truck, giving her a small smile as a thanks. She doesn’t respond, just puts the vehicle in drive and pulls out of the hospital pick up zone. The cab is thick with awkward silence. You clear your throat, preparing yourself to speak to her. 

“So I met Dr. Cullen. He said you’re dating his son, uh, what was his name?” Your eyebrows furrow, hard on concentrating. She makes a quick glance in your direction, fighting off a small smile on her face.

“Edward?” She asks, amused. Things seem to be going well for the first time you two had talked without a fight breaking out. 

“Psh, Edward Shmedward.” You say, throwing your hand forward as if dismissing something. She blows air out of her nose, the closest thing to a laugh you were sure you’d be able to get out of her. “Yeah, him. His dad looks like a freakin’ god. Like, some mystical shit is going on here.”

“You should see the rest of his kids.” She adds. After that, you can feel she’s over the conversation already. You don’t mind, of course. It’s better to stop before your luck runs out anyway. After a short drive, she pulls into the driveway. You unbuckle your seatbelt, but she doesn’t move to unbuckle hers. 

“Aren’t you coming?” You ask, sitting with your feet dangling out of the tall truck. 

She sighs. “I’m going to Edward’s.” And with that you nod and hop out, closing the door behind you. You could use this to your advantage, you’d be able to unpack without an angsty Bella hovering over your shoulder. You approach the front door, kicking the doormat out of the way to pluck the key off of the cold concrete. 

Opening the front door, you call out. “Ch- Dad?” Knowing it’d fall on deaf ears, you sigh. Charlie was almost never home, and Bella didn’t seem to mind, but you actually missed your dad. You two used to watch every baseball game together, he used to coach your T-Ball little league. You never knew him as Chief Swan, just dad. After you and Bella got older, Bella got more and more reluctant to return to rainy Forks. Your mom refused to let you board a plane by yourself, so you gave up and just stopped. You would have returned to your dad when Bella did, if there wasn’t something holding you back in Phoenix. What that was, you have no clue. Just a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach. But all of that was in the past now. It was time to start over, and you looked forward to being able to breathe again. You just wanted to breathe. 

Sun spills into the quiet room that Bella resides, warmth filling the air like a thick fog. It was a rare occurrence, one that you knew most people were outside taking advantage of. You walk over to the window sill, your hand reaching to unlatch the locks on the paint-peeled wood. As fresh air fills the room, you glance at Bella’s dresser- that she now has to share with you. You unzip your suitcase, knowing that there wasn’t much inside of it. The contents being mostly underwear, socks, bras, and leggings. A mostly squeezed out tube of toothpaste laid neatly on top of the chaos, somehow unfazed by the rough plane ride it had endured. You grab your toiletries, walking to the bathroom to place them in the small spot Charlie had cleared out. Returning to the bedroom, you place your pillow and stuffed animal on the twin bed Charlie had managed to fit in the small space. There was barely any room to walk around on the floor anymore, it was just a bed, a dresser, and another bed. A small desk too. 

The sun begins to set as you finally get settled. You had typed out a short email to your mom, started unthawing chicken breasts for dinner, and done a small load of laundry. Now you sat reclining on the couch, watching whichever MLB game was playing tonight. A few minutes before your dad got home, Bella walked through the door. 

“Hey.” You greet. She ignores you, walking into the kitchen. You turn down the volume on the TV. 

“Is this for dinner tonight?” Bella calls out. 

“Yeah, I found a cool recipe in a magazine at the hospital.” You answer. She snorts, clearly finding something you said amusing. 

“Charlie told me he’s gonna be out late tonight. Told us not to wait up.” She says. Sadness pinches at your heart. 

“Oh.” You stand and put the chicken back in the refrigerator.

“Don’t take it personal, he does this a lot.” She reassures. You nod, giving her a small smile. Sitting back down on the couch, this time with a box of cereal in hand, you return the volume to its prior setting and lose yourself in the world of baseball. Sometime after the clock read 9:30 PM, your eyes began to droop, and you found yourself nodding off. Soon, you succumbed to the dark warmth calling your name.

[xillveart]

Don’t Forget Me

Art in banner done by me.

College Life / Mermaid / Kimi no Na wa (Your Name) inspired AU

It’s all nothing but a dream. A series of dreams that are all too real. That’s all it is. Your soul - or whatever it was - couldn’t possibly be swapping places with a Merman. One, mermaids aren’t real. Two, that’s not even possible! Is it? 

Mermaid!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Human Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Don’t Forget Me tag. 

Genre: Romance / Angst Story 

Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Interspecies Sex (merman / human), Masturbation, Alcohol, Animal death / hunting (whales, fish, sharks, etc), Cursing, Descriptions of Injuries and Blood 

A/N: This is my part for the @bnhabookclub weekly collab event Just Add Water for MerMay! I know there isn’t much going on in this, but it’s just the first chapter to a new multichapter fic. Per the rules of the collab, I used the prompt “That’s just an urban legend”. I’m excited, because I’ve wanted to do a Mer!Bakugou x reader for a LONG time and could never think of anything. But when this theme was announced, I was watching Kimi no Na wa and immediately had this idea. So, full disclosure, the theme of switching bodies in their sleep / forgetting each other is inspired by that movie, but that is all that I take away from it. 

Prologue: Stone

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing

Words:  1,855

You were doing it again. 

How many times had you caught yourself staring at the delicate necklace in your hands? More than you could probably count on all your fingers and toes, and you were sure that number had nearly doubled just in the last week. You really weren’t sure why you were drawn to it so intensely, nor why it gave you such a deep sense of loss and loneliness. 

Where had you gotten it from? 

You couldn’t remember. In truth, you couldn’t remember getting it at all. As far as you could recollect, it had been around your neck when you woke up one morning, about two months ago. Since then, you refused to go a day without it, even if it didn’t necessarily match your outfit or any particular occasion. You felt so lost without it around your neck, like a part of you was away, off in some distant land or deep within the sea. 

Why did you think that? 

Of all things, why would you assume that this missing part of you was in the ocean? Was it because of the necklace? Probably. The silver clam shaped pendant that rested in your palm was most likely the culprit to make you think of the sea. But that particular piece of the jewelry wasn’t what kept you so entranced. Set in the middle was a small, perfectly round stone, and its brilliance is what you couldn’t help but stare into. To anyone else, it would just appear to be a small marble, with brilliant deep indigo, swirling turquoise and hints of radiant purples. There were sparkles of twinkling white, like light reflecting off a water's surface, and if you gazed into it long enough, you could have sworn that the colors were mixing and twisting, as if there truly was water inside the stone. 

It was so beautiful. Had someone given it to you? Whoever did must have cared about you so deeply to give you something so special. You had asked all your friends and family if they knew anything about how you got it, but no one knew anything. You received some weird looks and uncomfortable responses when you tried to ask them, but that didn’t bother you much, not when you had been dealing with people finding you strange for almost half a year now, anyway. 

Why did they find you weird again? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that it had to do with this necklace. You had tried to find out what it was made of to try and get any hints on where it may have come from, but each jewelry store or stone expert you took it to, they all had the same response. They just didn’t know. Many offered to buy it from you at varying prices, their interest peaked and their hopes of being the first person to discover a new stone pushing them forward. But you resisted, as just even letting it out of your hands so they could look at it enough to make you nearly burst into tears. You couldn’t let it go and you wouldn’t, either. Not ever. Not for anything. 

Because it was precious. It was the only thing that you had that could help to calm this nearly unending sense of longing. 

But what was it you were longing for? 

Or who? 

Why did that always pop up in your mind? There were so many pieces of scattered thoughts that you just couldn’t put together. A person. The sea. Feeling like a piece of you was missing. You wanted these feelings to end, but you knew that they wouldn’t, not until you found what you were searching for. 

With a frustrated sigh, you put the necklace back on around your neck, clasping it in place with skilled fingers. Standing from your bed, you shuffled your way towards your desk, lightly running your fingers down along the slender metal chain. Your mind was still in a hazy grip of sleep, barely registering that the electronic clock mostly hidden by books and other stationary read 5:49 AM, though that didn’t really matter. Your mind was racing with the overbearing thoughts, and as you sat down in your squeaky office chair, you were already near breaking out into tears.

The necklace wasn’t the only clue you had. Scattered among the desk were notebooks and papers, though you had refused to touch them for the last few weeks. At first, you had meticulously looked over every page and every written note, trying to do everything you could to learn about who this person was that you were missing. But now they sat on your desk, abandoned in defeat. There were many things in the notes that didn’t make sense to you now, though according to what you had written, you had understood it all at one point. 

What you had written. 

That was what was the most odd. There were two very distinct handwritings within the notebooks and scribbled on the scrap pieces of paper or sticky notes. Yours was so proper and easy to read, clean and steady. The other was rough with some of the characters almost completely illegible, requiring you to assume what the person writing must have been trying to say. Large and scratchy, it almost resembled the handwriting of a child or what you assume would be someone new to writing on paper. The phrases. The choice of words. All of it was completely different from yours. 

It had been another person. Someone sat in your chair, in your room, and wrote these messages to you. At first, you thought that it just had to be a prank. One of your friends was fucking with you. That was the only realistic solution. But none of them talked this way, and if you were honest, they weren’t exactly clever enough to pull off such a big ordeal over months and months. 

The way they talked… It was so strange. You just couldn’t wrap your head around it, and if you were honest, you thought that they must have been a little crazy. Yet, you weren’t all that rattled in most of your responses, like you knew what they had been saying to be the truth. 

The conversations were so… natural. In fact, most of it was like a diary, with the scratchy handwriting cataloging what had happened that day, how they felt about it, and what they had done. 

This school shit that you humans do is so stupid and pointless. Who the fuck needs to know about… what is it called? Calculus? You’re never going to use that shit, I’m not bothering with keeping up with it, fuck that. You always catch up on your own anyway. That bitch Midoriya or whatever gave you some fucking flowers today. I thought about stomping on them and telling him to fuck off, but I just took them and left. You need to tell that prick you’re not into him or this shit will never stop. Also, the way you humans handle courtship is fucked. I didn’t do shit today otherwise. Just stayed in the room. I did find your sketchbook though. You’re getting better, but you still can’t remember us for shit. 

Pulling your eyes up from the paper, they immediately landed on the mentioned sketchbook, which was tucked up beneath some schoolbooks. Carefully, you pulled it out, setting it down on the pile of papers to thumb through it. 

It had been so long since you had even opened this thing. The feeling of the coarse paper beneath your fingertips brought a small smile to your face, as did seeing all your old sketches and doodles. Though, the smile faded as you reached near the middle of the sketchbook, your eyes tearing up immediately at the contents of the page. The page was completely covered in drawings of what looked to be mermaids, or mermen, to be more accurate. They were mostly faceless and unidentifiable, the sketches geared more towards poses and anatomy. The only thing mostly consistent was the tail. It seemed to be the same over all the drawings, with matching fins and scribbled patterns. 

“Mermaids… I’ve never cared to draw them before, why did I…?” 

After another turn of the page, you were met with similar things, only this time they had heads and hair, jewelry, pieces of clothing, and even weapons. Only one of the sketches resembled the previous drawings, and his particular features called to you. The feeling of recognition and longing grew fiercer with another turn of the page, which was all nothing but sketches of that particular merman’s head with varying expressions and positions. He was particularly attractive, with slanted piercing eyes and a mass of fluffy spiked hair on his head. He had fin-like ears that were mostly drooped, but flared out on the drawings with a more intense expression, where his mouth was open in a yell or intense fanged snarl. 

A small gasp left your lips as a drop of liquid suddenly landed onto the paper, pulling you out of your daze. Crying? Why were you crying? Why did your heart feel like it was about to be ripped from your chest? It wasn’t possible for this to be the man that you had been longing for. You had drawn him as a mermaid! They weren’t real, and there was no way that was possible. He couldn’t even get into your room, let alone sit in your chair and write you letters. 

“I’m so ridiculous…” You whispered quietly to yourself, wiping the tears from your flushed cheeks. Had you been blushing? You didn’t even notice. “Mermaids… That’s just an urban legend. A myth. I must have just been in a phase… Maybe I saw a movie or an anime with them, and I got super invested? But then… they’re so…” 

Page after page, more sketches followed, some making you giggle while others made your chest ache so badly you thought you would pass out. But then, there was something scribbled onto a page that made your entire body grow cold, stomach twisting into such a tight knot you were sure that you’d vomit. 

Save me. 

“Save… Save you?” You choked out into the silent room with a trembling voice, more tears cascading down your cheeks as you reached up to grip the pendant around your neck tightly. It was in the familiar scratchy handwriting, though it was more frantic and messy than you had ever seen. Hiccupping, you brought the pendant up to your lips, pressing the stone against them as you struggled to calm yourself. 

Save you from what? What the hell happened? Did I save you? Why the hell can’t I remember!

It was then that you felt an odd pulsing against your lips, and as you pulled away in shock, your teary gaze was locked onto the pendant in your hands, which was pulsing slowly with a pale green glow. And with it came a thought, like a soft voice whispering in your ear that you couldn’t ignore. 

He’s calling to me… 

[succulentsunrise]

Where the Fire Lilies Grow

Content: Light description of burn wounds and blood

We get to the title of the fic! I've had this chapter on my mind for forever 😁🥰

Tag list: @thoughtfullyrainynightmare, @lyranova, @ckjwnnbc

< Previous | Next >

Chapter 11: The Cavern of Fire Lilies

"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell." Joan Crawford

There was a certain solace in the fact that Icree had appeared. She listened intently as Tani explained the circumstances of her own disappearance and the situation with Mereoleona. Icree’s deep green eyes looked sharp and focused, and she crouched over the Vermillion noble, tense and wary. The inspection was quicker than Tani had expected.

“Death traps,” Icree muttered quietly. “I don’t think it is natural.”

Tani felt a little shiver move through her back. She knew the wounds were serious, but it sounded like her friend believed them to be lethally so. If Mereoleona wasn’t as good a mage as she was, she might have --

“I don’t know why they were triggered yet,” Tani said hastily, cutting her thoughts short.

The image of the burnt body flashed across her mind - the hazy eyes closing for the last time - and a heaviness settled in her heart.

“Fire,” Icree said simply. “Fire would be logical.”

That green, sharp gaze turned to her. Tani’s heart beat painfully in her chest, and she avoided looking Icree in the eyes. She needed to focus, but unspoken emotions intruded on her. She pushed them aside, yet couldn’t help but wonder - why did those words fill her with such sadness?

“You think the plants reacted to her magic?”

“Yes. A heat source like this--and there was that rumble. Plants would find a way to...” Icree sighed, seemingly looking for words.

“To protect themselves from fire?”

“Yes. Someone came here before us.”

Tani frowned for a moment, trying to understand Icree’s point. Someone came here before?

“Mereoleona might have been the fire mage we were looking for,” she suggested.

Icree nodded, rising up.

“As I said, I want to examine the plants for the possibility of creating an antitoxin,” Tani continued. “I don’t think it is wise to go right now - my mana’s quite depleted - but perhaps after a rest.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Icree agreed once more, looking around them.

They were still in the corridor, which was only lit dimly by Tani’s lantern. To their left was the entrance to the tower, and in front of them the intersection. Tani could only assume Icree was trying to figure out the safest place to camp out.

“Where is Luka?” Tani asked gingerly, already guessing the answer.

Predictably, Icree shook her head a little.

“Luka was worried about you, you know,” she said with a scolding tone. “We can’t find you, and - Luka was gone.”

Even if Tani registered a small error in Icree’s sentence structure, she put it down as a mistake. It was likely that Icree had simply changed the sentence midway.

“He disappeared from you as well?” she asked, trying to make sense of the story.

“Yes.”

“And you have no clue how?”

“No.”

“How did you find me?”

A small smile appeared on Icree’s lips. There was no small amount of gentle satisfaction in it, as she pulled light blue strips of cloth from her pocket. Tani, instead, felt conflicted: while she was glad her plan had worked, there was now no point to it - Icree had removed any chance of Luka finding them! Similarly, it would be harder to find their way in the maze afterwards.

“I wish you had left them on the thickets,” Tani said with a strained voice, trying to mitigate her frustration.

She was tired by the amount of magic she had used already, the difficulties they had faced, and now this small setback. Icree’s smile was apologetic.

“I didn’t think,” she simply said.

“It’s--it’s alright. Luka can probably sense us,” Tani quickly waved it off, though Icree’s attitude didn’t help her annoyance with it.

“There’s not really anywhere else they could’ve gone.”

Tani nodded tiredly. She felt rather petty as her thoughts once more picked up an insignificant mistake in Icree’s sentence - they instead of he - and resolved to rest for now. She told as much to her friend, and settled to lie down near Mereoleona. It was better to sleep her irritation away. She was certain Icree could sense it too. As soon as Tani closed her eyelids, she felt a new wave of tiredness hit her. She had walked for a good while in the corridor, and then used a lot of magic. A rest felt like a good idea, especially since Icree could now watch over both her and Mereoleona. Slowly, she found a good position for herself, and felt dreams take over. The dim light of her lamp slowly vanished as she stopped providing it with magic. Darkness took over.

It was in darkness that Tani found herself roused from her light sleep. She looked around with tired eyes, not sure where she was or what time it was. Slowly, sensations and memories began reaching her brain again: she was in the dungeon, on the mossy ground. She shot up, her heart starting to pump faster again in fear. Why was it dark? Where was everyone? With a quick movement, Tani lit up the dim light to her lantern, watching her surroundings be illuminated. Mereoleona was still hunched next to her, eyes closed and her breathing neutral. By the other wall of the corridor, opposite to Tani and Mereoleona, sat Icree. Her red hair had a few leaves stuck to it, her eyes wide in alarm. Her arm flung towards Tani, as if as a reflex - and then fell down, as she took a deep breath. Icree rose her fingers over her lips, making a shushing motion, and glancing towards the corridor. Tani followed her gaze, pricking up her ears. The small shuffle on her side came from Mereoleona, who seemed to have woken up as well. It didn’t seem like she was able to move properly yet, but there was recognition in her blue eyes. She seemed to be much less groggy than before.

“Someone was here,” Icree said quietly, her gaze locked to the left.

Tani put her hand on the hilt of her sword. She didn’t want to unsheathe it just yet, but it always made her feel safer to have it by her. She dimmed further the light from her lantern.

“In the tower?” Tani whispered.

Icree simply nodded, her gaze staying on Mereoleona, sharp and attentive.

“Maybe it’s Luka?” Tani suggested.

It would be weird for him to not have noticed them, but perhaps he was injured. He could potentially go into the plants, and if they would also paralyze him - if they reacted to something else than fire - that would be disastrous. As it was right now, healing the paralysis was way too experimental.

“Perhaps,” Icree agreed slowly. “You go.”

Tani looked at her in surprise. It was an unusual command. Even though Luka usually did the reconnaissance, if he wasn’t available, Icree took it upon herself to do so. Her abilities were better suited to scouting than Tani’s.

“The plants,” Icree said almost impatiently.

Tani looked at her with a frown. Plants? Perhaps she thought Tani had a better chance dealing with the plants or hiding through them. It was hard to say. Her behaviour was still strange - Icree was tense, but her gaze stayed on the barely moving figure of Mereoleona. If Tani didn’t know any better, she’d say that Icree was more wary of the paralyzed woman than the mysterious someone. It made her uneasy.

“If I go alone, we might be separated again,” she reasoned quietly.

“It would be logical to make--to make plants,” Icree said, her voice faltering again.

“To make plants?” Tani repeated, her brows still furrowed. “We could make a rope from plants. Or do you mean antitoxin?”

Icree nodded when she mentioned the rope. Tani still felt a bit uneasy, but she created a long and durable vine of ivy.

“You’ll have to hold this side taut. If it goes slack, I’ll run back.”

Icree took one end of the ivy and held it tight, once more only nodding. Her gaze flickered towards the tower, as if she had heard something again. Tani stopped and listened as well. She couldn’t hear anything. Still, it was clear Icree wanted her to go. Part of her wanted to stay, to figure out what was going on. Part of her wished to find Luka, so she could know what had happened. Reluctantly, Tani picked up her lantern and dimmed it further. It barely illuminated her surroundings now.

“Where is your lantern?” she asked from Icree, glancing around.

“It’s here,” her friend answered, reaching behind herself and starting a small light.

It was a dim light, like Tani’s, most likely to keep them hidden. Tani nodded, and began to creep towards the tower. It was funny how the mind didn’t pay attention to some things. She hadn’t realized until now that she hadn’t seen Icree’s bag or lantern with her, but clearly they were there. She had just seen the lantern, after all.

Tani approached the tower carefully, holding the ivy vine in one hand and her lantern in the other. She could not see any light inside of the structure or in the cavern beyond. Still, she could not take any chances. She stayed still for a moment, listening for footsteps or movement. When she could hear none, Tani carefully brought her lantern closer, illuminating the walls of the tower. The trickiest part was the stairs. She would not be able to see if someone stood there until she would have entered inside the tower itself. Cold sweat rose to her forehead as suspense settled to the bottom of her stomach. Slowly, she rose her gaze to the stairs snaking on the right side of the building. Tani could see nothing there but darkness. Even the shape of the stairs was indecipherable to her, so dim was her light. She wished she had a third hand to pull out her sword. Tani extinguished her lantern slowly. She listened for any movement. She held in her breath and stood still, almost like she had been paralyzed herself. Hearing nothing for a while, Tani took a step forward. A small rock moved under her boot, grinding against the earth. Immediately, she stopped, tense and ready for trouble. Silence followed again. She stayed completely still for a moment, before taking a few more steps, each not as quiet as she would have wished. If she had remembered that the path was so rocky, she would have softened the soles of her boots with something - moss, perhaps. With a quiet, quick inhale, Tani entered the tower, immediately turning to the right, towards the stairs. She could still see barely anything. Her eyes were not well adjusted to the almost unnatural darkness of the dungeon. Her breathing was too loud. Her movements were too loud. If there was someone here, they’d know. Tani quickly lit up her lantern once more, ready for action. Her heart jumped to her throat and then - then she saw the empty structure. There was no figure standing on the stairs, or even further up. Nervously, she kept glancing through the small room she was in, seeing no one. Her eyes settled onto the hole, which she knew to lead to the cavern where she had found Mereoleona. It was the only direction anyone could have gone. Tani took a careful step towards it, steeling herself. At least this time she couldn’t see any smoke or fumes inside. She kept the lantern on this time, slowly walking up to the opening and lighting up the inside. From where Tani was standing, she could see the sand-coloured walls with the white, lantern-like flowers, and the blackened ground. There was no one inside. What she hadn’t noticed before was that the cavern clearly continued forward. There was a small, cramped passage that led somewhere else.

Tani was less eager about stepping into the cavern. The flowers didn’t seem to be reacting so far to her presence. Their almost papery blooms were closed, like the flowers outside of the dungeon. Indeed - they seemed to be the same flowers altogether. Tani adjusted the ivy vine in her hand, and then put that hand with its sleeve over her mouth and nose. She stepped one leg through the hole, quickly looking at every corner of the cavern. Though its walls were uneven, there didn’t seem to be hidden alcoves in it. Tani tried to take a quiet, deep breath and calm her nerves. She needed to be ready, but not rash. The tension was making her nervous. She continued towards the passage she had seen, keeping her eye on the flowers on the cavern walls. So far, they remained passive. The ivy vine stayed tight, as Tani kept magically increasing its length as she walked. The passage in front of her was narrow, but not too narrow for her to squeeze past. The problem was the plants: flowers and moss had also overtaken the walls here, and she’d have to touch them to move past. She hesitated for a brief moment. She could turn back and they could come here together later - or she could continue to pursue, and possibly find that water source she had sensed as well. Tani touched the wall gently, letting her magic persuade the plants to move. They did so without resistance, their roots extending and moving with her magic. She whispered to them a small thank you before squeezing safely through the passage.

Before Tani opened a much wider cavern. Her lantern alone wasn’t enough to fully illuminate it. The rough walls were similarly covered in moss, as far as she could see, but there were no flowers there. As she began to walk into the cavern, she could hear her steps echo - and then suddenly stop. Even the ground had moss growing on it, creating a soft surface that muffled the echo. There was a small glint in the darkness. Tani’s gaze immediately was drawn to it, her wonder at the cavern turning back to wariness. She raised her lantern to see better. The glint turned out to be water: a small pond created by underground rivers. Tani immediately headed its way, kneeling down next to it. She increased the light of her lantern to properly light up the area around her. She still couldn’t see or hear anyone, so she set up to examine the water itself. It looked surprisingly clear. Still, she couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t be contaminated. Much of the vegetation outside had been poisonous, but the plants were surviving. It might be alright to drink it if it was just a day. A doubt nagged her. Could they really risk further poisonings? No - she would know how to treat that kind of poisoning. She had done it before. They only needed to find Luka anymore, and then they could retreat. This water would have to do. As Tani rose to investigate the cavern more, she realized that the ivy vine in her hand had gone slack. There was no longer a pull from it. For a second, Tani was frozen still, her fear of losing her patient and friend paralyzing her. Then she began sprinting towards the passage, stumbling and pushing herself through its narrow mouth, and almost flying across the smaller cavern and the tower. It was such a short distance, but every step felt like it took too long. She leaped towards the corridor, no longer dark, but engulfed in flames. The loud crackling of fire matched the hunger with which it spread among the thickets. On the ground lay a figure with bright blue eyes, staring right into her. There was such raw rage in them that it stopped Tani in her tracks, sending her stumbling. She managed to keep her balance only barely, dropping the lantern to the ground. Mereoleona’s whole body was enveloped in flames, and Tani had no idea if they were protecting or hurting her. She could see no sign of Icree anywhere. She opened her mouth to shout - to ask - but before she could do anything, a clawed paw of fire swiped at her. It grabbed onto her right arm tightly, and then yanked. Tani’s balance gave in - she hadn’t expected it and the burning pain caught her off-guard. She was dragged along the ground for a few moments, before finding herself close to Mereoleona. Another fiery paw rose.

“It’s me, it’s me,” Tani shouted desperately, trying to raise her arms to protect herself.

The anger in Mereoleona’s eyes didn’t quell at all. The paw struck Tani straight in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her body doubled over - she took a rasping breath, trying to breathe again - and then quickly straightened her back. Her heart was pumping fast, her muscles tense and quivering. Breathing hurt. Breathing was hard. For a moment, she couldn’t react at all. All she recognized was the pain she was in - and the confusion. Then her arm was yanked again and she was thrown at the opposite side of the corridor, into the thorny thicket. She screamed in pain as she felt the thorns pierce her skin and break off. She barely managed to soften her fall with her arms. Her still healing shoulder let out a cracking sound. Tani gasped for breath once more, water rising to her eyes. She glanced at Mereoleona. Though the woman’s body barely moved, the fiery paws rising above her were clear in their intent: they were going to continue attacking. Seeing them get ready, Tani moved quickly. Her grimoire flew open as strong roots began embracing Mereoleona’s burning body, forcibly sealing her inside of it. She could see the bark set on fire in an instant, but it gave her time to get up and draw a few deep breaths. Her instincts were fighting with each other: part of her wanted to flee, to lick her wounds somewhere - the other knew she had to somehow incapacitate Mereoleona without causing more damage. Still, she didn’t have enough time to think. Choking was too dangerous. Knocking Mereoleona unconscious was far too short-lived and risky. She had to somehow cause her opponent to be too disorientated to control her magic - but how?

The bark of the ginkgo tree peeled off in charred chunks, as Mereoleona’s body emerged from it as well. The fiery paws had to soften her fall onto the ground, giving Tani more time to prepare. Enough time to raise her mana skin. If only Icree was still here - where had she gone, anyway? - Tani could’ve simply supported her in this fight. It was just the two of them now: a small knight and a tired monster. If only she could stop Mereoleona’s mana somehow. Her opponent was weakened already, Tani could easily see that. There was blood near Mereoleona. Blood? Whose blood?

“Stop!” Tani pleaded desperately, dodging another fiery fist. “I’m not your enemy!”

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say. A faster fist managed to punch Tani in the shoulder, almost making her lose her balance. Instead, she used it to move further away from Mereoleona, cringing in pain. She was on the verge of simply crying. Clumsily, she took a few more steps backwards, retreating behind a turn. She continued moving, fortunately, for the thicket behind her soon erupted in flames. Tani began running, her fleeing instinct taking over. Her feet led her to the only path she knew: the tower. It’s dark structure welcomed her as she ran inside and hid in a corner. It was only there that she realized she had dropped her lantern. She was burnt, bleeding and terrified - and alone. Tani could still hear the crackling of fire in the corridor and an almost inhuman scream. Her face twisted in sorrow. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. The only thing she could do was try to muffle the sobs. She made a decision: if she would hear Mereoleona come closer, she would run to the cavern, to the passage, and beyond. Tani wiped away some of the tears burning her eyes and brushed away some of the snot, and began checking her own body. Parts of her right arm and stomach had burnt rather badly, and she was bleeding slightly from somewhere. She tried to remove any thorns that had stuck to her, but she couldn’t be sure none were left in her back. After making sure that it was mostly alright, Tani summoned her gingko roots to wrap around herself and heal her. She stayed still, sniffling and trying to calm down. Her thoughts were erratic, jumping between the pain, the frustration and the feeling of being betrayed. Why did Mereoleona attack her? Why hurt her? None of it made sense. Why was everyone gone again? The thoughts only added to the tears, and Tani hugged herself within the ginkgo roots. She stayed there for several minutes, listening to the crackling of fire die down. She expected Mereoleona to appear at any moment, but no one came. Slowly, silence fell to the maze again. Tani couldn’t be sure if Mereoleona hadn’t disappeared like Icree. She knew she would have to check. The only way to get answers was to hope that she wouldn’t be attacked again. She didn’t want to. She was already hurt enough - tired enough. She began crying again, finding it hard to stop. She laid down, burying her face in her hands and staying there. The violent sobs that rocked her body caused her pain. There was no good way to lie down, no good way to cry. Everything hurt.

Eventually Tani rose to her feet. Her whole body felt heavy. She wanted to close her puffy eyes and slip away from this nightmare. Instead, she carefully moved to the entrance of the tower, peeking out slightly. She could see no fire anymore, nor hear anything. Nervousness began rising her heart rate again, but she knew she needed to check on Mereoleona. No one else would. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t be attacked again. Maybe. Tani’s eyes had somewhat gotten used to the darkness - enough to notice a crumpled figure on the ground near the tower. Mereoleona seemed to have crawled forward at some point and collapsed there. Tani stared at the figure, frozen still. She had no clue if Mereoleona was awake or not, or whether it was a trap to lure her closer. Slowly, she began to approach the unmoving figure. Every step was more uncertain, but it didn’t seem to stir Mereoleona. She reached the slumped figure rather easily. Tani stood there, next to her, uncertain what was the next step. Her head felt so numb and heavy. If she left Mereoleona here, something would probably happen to the woman. No - she needed to take her with. To the pond. There would be water. There’d be enough space to run away from Mereoleona, if she decided to still attack. Swallowing down her tears and the need to cry more, Tani gently tested touching the figure before her. As there was still no reaction, she picked up Mereoleona, supporting the woman on both of her shoulders. Her left one protested heavily, forcing Tani to shift some of the weight more on her right side. It wasn’t ideal, but she’d only have to get to the pond. Shakily, Tani began to walk towards the cavern. It was still harder to see inside of it, but she found the entrance easily enough. Finding the passage was harder. She had to put Mereoleona down to the ground for a while and feel through the cracks of the cavern walls. Eventually her fingers found the opening - or the only place that she could fathom to be it. From the corner of her eye, Tani suddenly saw light. She whipped around to see a slight aura of fire around Mereoleona - those blue eyes trying to see in the dark, barely open and unable to see - or perhaps attacking again?

For a moment, time stopped for Tani.

White sepals of the flowers began opening. She took a step towards Mereoleona, sprinting to protect. She could see those blue eyes widen as realization dawned upon them. Another step, another flower opening. Tani grabbed Mereoleona and pulled her upwards, towards herself. Fire crackled in the air, meeting with the green fumes. The roots of the ginkgo tree began growing, twisting, wrapping -

An explosion rang loud and clear.

Tani and Mereoleona were thrown back by it, barely protected by Tani’s spell and their mana skins. Tani coughed, then put her hand on her mouth. The fumes. She had inhaled them as well. She extended her arm - the skin on it like paper, peeling off - towards the passage. She created another root to wrap around herself and Mereoleona, to pull them out. To Tani’s surprise, instead of being dragged on the floor, they almost glided. Mereoleona was helping with her flames to carry them. The narrowness of the passage still caused them some trouble, creating more nicks and scratches on them both. They emerged to the larger cavern coughing and wheezing, trying to breathe the fresh air. Tani continued dragging them further away, to the bed of moss near the pond. It was only there that the pain of the explosion caught up with her. She was already burnt from before, but even the thick bark had not been enough to withstand the violent burst of fire. The fumes seemed to interact with fire magic in a volatile way. Next to her, Mereoleona laid burnt and pale, her gaze surprisingly sharp. She was looking at Tani, her gaze confused, apologetic - hurt. Tani reached for the other woman, her whole body aching and vision dimming. She fought to stay awake, enough to heal the already burnt person in front of her. A hand weakly clasped hers.

“I’ll heal you now,” Tani coughed out. “I don’t have much mana left, but..”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She continued to look at Mereoleona’s eyes and concentrated on her spell. She could feel her grimoire fly out and then - something else happened. Mereoleona began a spell as well. Her grimoire flipped open to an empty page. Around them both, mana erupted in a gentle glow, a playful dance of orange and green. Where they touched, flowers began to grow on the dark green moss: orange, lily-like flowers with green stems. A momentous healing power surged through Tani, much more powerful than her own. Her gaze met Mereoleona’s again, who looked as surprised as her.

All around them, flowers bloomed. Both of their grimoires finished writing on blank pages.

[Combo Spell: The Bloom of Fire Lilies]

[ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife]

MAG 018 - The Man Upstairs

Summary: Jonathan reads the statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding “his interactions with a first-floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.”

Obligatory confession of American confusion: This episode is about 23 minutes long, and it took me until somewhere around the 20-minute mark before I had my light-bulb moment about Toby Carlisle being a “first-floor resident”. By “first floor” he means “SECOND floor” in American speak. Yes, that’s right - I spent almost the entire episode confused about which floor this guy really lived on. (For anyone not in the know, in the U.S. the “first floor” is the floor that you walk into a building on, that you don’t use any steps or stairs to access. It is also called the ground floor - they are the same thing. If you go up one flight of stairs, you are now on the second floor, not the first.)

The first-floor-second-floor thing was pretty much the only mystery I solved this episode though. I definitely enjoyed the episode (despite feeling like throwing up myself at some of the descriptions), but as with most of the episodes, I’m left with far more questions and tantalizing clues than actual answers.

Christof describes the odd, unpleasant odor around Toby Carlisle as “halfway between the smell of the pavement after a rain on a hot day and chicken that’s starting to turn”. The second part of that makes sense, given the state of Toby’s apartment when Christof enters it at the end, but I’m having trouble placing what exactly that first part is supposed to smell like. More interesting to me though is the fact that the smell was already there when Christof moved in, even though the banging from Toby’s apartment didn’t start until almost two years later. It seems reasonable to assume the banging was Toby nailing the various meats to the walls, floor, ceiling, etc., but if that’s the case, then where was that smell coming from for the years prior to that? Did it originate with Toby himself, or did his excess meat problem cause the smell long before he actually started nailing them to the walls?

When Christof returned the incorrectly delivered package to Toby’s apartment, we get possibly the most detailed description of any part of Toby in the entire episode: “The hand was thin and pale, with long, filthy yellow fingernails. On the back, I saw a single dark red mark that might have been a cut or a lesion, but it was gone before I had a chance to see it in more detail.” The “single dark red mark” is likely the beginning of the “puckered, septic lesions and holes” Christof sees in Toby’s dead face at the end of the episode (some part of me wants to say it reminds me of Jared Key’s eye tattoos from episode 12...but I’m trying to ignore that possibility), but the fingernails are what really piqued my interest. Christof tells himself for most of the episode that Toby just has a severe hygiene issue, but if it was straight-up uncleanliness, his fingernails would be primarily brown or black, caked with dirt or grime, that sort of thing. Instead, they are yellow more than anything else. This is the first of five mentions of the color yellow in this episode - the second is the color of the growing stain on Christof’s dining room ceiling, the third is the color of the liquid that oozes out of the hole in the ceiling after it collapses, the fourth is the color of the rotting meat covering Toby’s apartment, and the fifth is the color of the “fluid” that “oozed” from the creepy af pile of meat in Toby’s kitchen. The similarity in the colors indicates a direct connection between Toby himself (that is, his body) and the rotten meat. But the pieces of meat that lined his apartment were, in Christof’s estimation, pieces of various non-human animals - so if we take him at his word, the rotten meat wasn’t literally from Toby, so something external caused both Toby and the meat to excrete that sickly yellow rot.

So what made it target or infect Toby? No clue, since we don’t have any background on him, but I sure hope it wasn’t done by touch alone: Christof got some of that yellow slime on his jacket sleeve when Toby snatched the package from him. He said he couldn’t get rid of the smell and eventually threw the jacket out - but then he accidentally touched the stuff while fumbling for the light switch in Toby’s apartment at the end. When they followed up with him, he said “he had had no further experiences he believed to be linked to these events” and I don’t have any specific reason to disbelieve that - except that that means Toby wasn’t infected by just touching the wrong thing (or person). This isn’t a Jane Prentiss-type infection. So what’s Toby’s story?

And just what was in that package? “The envelope was thick and soft - it must have been mainly full of bubble wrap or other packing material.” So...it wasn’t meat? Because that would have been two puzzle pieces fitting together quite nicely, canceling each other out, and I’m more than a little irked that that wasn’t the case. It’s like Jonathan said at the end: “Where was he getting the meat?” At first, the sheer quantity of meat reminded me, vaguely, of the bag of teeth from episode 5. Both were a multitude of body parts. But those teeth were human and the meat is (apparently) from animals, and all the teeth were identical, whereas these meats are all different cuts from different animals. Notably, they’re all animals that are typically eaten by humans - Christof mentions steaks, chicken, and lamb among them. This seems to be more of that theme of rotten food, although in this case I think the “rotten” is more important than the “food”.

Despite all these questions I have, none of these things are directly harmful. Sure, Christof’s ceiling caves in, but no one besides Toby dies or gets hurt (that we know of). But that pile at the end...I got some Seriously Bad Vibes from that. To recap, Christof found in Toby’s kitchen “a pile of discarded meat and bone stacked almost as high as a person. It seemed almost less decayed than the rest of it, though that foul yellow fluid oozed from it, and…when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes. The next thing I remember is the police’s arrival” - and then suddenly the pile of meat was gone. There are two things here - inherently connected, I’m sure - that I’d like to point out.

First is the eyes. Creepy or out-of-place eyes have been mentioned every few episodes so far in the series: in the painting on Mary Key’s wall in episode 4, in Wilfred Owen’s death in episode 7, in the eye pendants in episode 9, in Jared Key’s eye tattoos in episode 12 (as well as the eye in the security camera in that same episode). And with each new appearance (particularly the one in this episode) I’m starting to get more and more worried about whatever being or creature or presence the eyes belong to.

Which brings me to the second thing. One of the recurring themes in these stories has been what I’ve taken to calling “altered reality” - when things appear one way but, we find out later, were actually quite different. When Graham is confused by Amy mentioning his nonexistent window box in episode 3. When Laura tries to reverse out of the squeeze in the cave in episode 15 and her foot hits solid rock. When the pile of meat straight-up disappears in this very episode. I want to be clear - those examples of “altered reality” are not what I’m talking about when I discuss a new (to me) theme: the incomprehensible. This pile of...whatever...in Toby’s kitchen is literally incomprehensible to Christof. He can’t even put into words what he saw. It’s like either the words don’t exist to describe what he saw or his brain can’t comprehend it - or possibly both. He says, “when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes.” Being unable to trust your senses due to some “altered reality” is terrifying, but to experience something that is literally incomprehensible and indescribable is just another level of terrifying. And the one thing most clearly intertwined with this incomprehensibility Christof experiences? The eyes. Specifically, the eyes opening.

We’ve seen this incomprehensibility before, albeit in slightly less terrifying (IMO) situations. In episode 3, Amy describes the creature entering Graham’s window: “When I say it moved, that’s not quite right - it shifted. Like when you stare at one of those old magic eye paintings and you change from seeing one picture into seeing another.” But much more blatantly and recently, in episode 17 Sebastian describes reading an excerpt from The Boneturner’s Tale: the Boneturner “crept up to the Miller while he slept. It described him silently reaching inside him and…it’s a bit hazy. All I remember clearly is the line ‘and from his rib a flute to play that merry tune of marrow took’. And as for the rest, I don’t recall in detail.” The second example concerns me much more than the first. I feel bad for Graham, of course, and I really want to know what that creature was...but The Boneturner’s Tale was a Leitner and seemed to have the power to deform anyone who touched it.

By themselves, it doesn’t appear that the eyes are doing anything. They’re just eyes, after all. No limbs, no body. But I don’t know if they really are just watching, or if their form and actions are so incomprehensible to humans that the people in these stories essentially can’t perceive it. And if they are just watching...what are they watching for, and what’s going to happen when they see it?

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

[chyrstis]

OC Bio Tag!

A bunch of lovely people were kind enough to tag me: @scarlettkat86​ @amistrio​​ @raisinghellinotherworlds​​ @risenlucifer​​ @faithchel​​ @shellibisshe​​ @honesthearts​​ @redroci​​ and @fadedjacket​​! Thank you all (<3!), and  I’m trying my hardest to get as much of this done before Tumblr decides to get its revenge again.

Tagging: @foofygoldfish​ @softmillers​ @shallow-gravy @finefeatheredgamer​ @ma-sulevin​​ @narcis-the-monk​ @jmcolt​ @himbopike​ @lxmbert​ @teamhawkeye​ @solesurvivorkat​ @twistedsinews​​ @writerofblocks​​ @millavodello​ @stvnningstrike​ @hawkfurze​ @shelliechen​​ @geronimo-11​ @whirly-wind​​ and anyone else that’s interested!

The Basics

Full Name: Hana Vao

Codename or Nickname: Dep, Deputy, H, Red, Shorty, Wrath, *insert more as Sharky and John come up with them*

Birth Date: October 6th, 1987

Birth Place: Detroit, MI

Nationality: American

Organization/Group: The Hope County Sheriff’s Department, The Resistance

Former Affiliates: Was this close to joining the Houston Fire Department

Family + Friends

Father: He was never a presence in her life, so the less said about him the better.

Mother: Hali’a Vao (deceased)

Siblings: There’s likely some half-siblings via her father, but she’s never tried searching for them.

Other Relatives: She had limited contact with her mother’s sister for a few years, but after that all contact dropped off. Her mother was estranged from them all to begin with, and that feeling extended right to her.

Spouses: Unofficially, Sharky Boshaw and John Seed (Sharky makes rings for them after a few years together, and while Hana wears hers, John keeps his on a string around his neck, much like he used to wear the bunker key)

Children: Two with Sharky (Gabrielle first, and a boy that I’m hoping to come up with a name for soonish?), and one with John (a boy, also nameless for now!).

Description

Height: 5′6"

Weight: 126 lbs

Hair Colour: Auburn/dark red

Eye Colour: Dark brown

Skin Colour: Tan with warm undertones

Any Scars: She’s covered in a variety of nicks and scrapes, but does pick up a serious one on the side of her head after she’s grazed by a bullet.

Any Tattoos: Two swimming koi on her left shoulder blade. A phoenix on the inside of her right forearm, b/c apparently in Hope County, you have to have at least one forearm tattoo to fit in. Wrath across her upper chest, courtesy of John.

Any Piercings: She’s removed most for the job, but had at least a few piercings per ear, and back when she was doing piercing as an odd job, she had her eyebrow pierced, and her tongue on a lark. Sometimes she misses the tongue piercing, but the sensation was too weird to ever want to repeat it.

Other Notable Features: She’s absolutely covered in freckles.

Random Facts: Had a ton of jobs when she was figuring out what to do with herself, and also to get herself through college to get her Criminal Justice degree. Also, an 80’s movie junkie, would probably have enough boots to fill a closet if given the opportunity, and a motorcycle enthusiast. She was hoping to buy one after moving out to Hope after selling her old one, and years down the line makes sure to get one in Prosperity to work on.

====

And for fun, here’s a little something for V. ;)

The Basics

Full Name: [REDACTED]

Codename or Nickname: Boss V

Birth Date: October 6th, 1985

Birth Place: Stilwater, USA (Damn, I’m blanking if it’s supposed to be Michigan, but I want to say we all agreed on that back in the day)

Nationality: American

Organization/Group: The Third Street Saints

Former Affiliates: N/A

Family + Friends

Father: [REDACTED] - No previous knowledge, but was told about him when Kinzie dug into her background.

Mother: [REDACTED] (deceased) - Met her mother briefly when she was younger, but never saw her again after that. She learned later what happened to her when Kinzie dug into her background.

Siblings: She has three adopted siblings, but was never close to them. After her family leaves Stilwater after kicking her out, she never bothers trying to reconnect with them either.

Other Relatives: No damn clue, and she never tries to reach out to them later on in life.

Spouses: Unofficially since they never tie the knot, Troy Bradshaw and Johnny Gat

Children: None.

Description

Height: 5′6"

Weight: 131 lbs

Hair Colour: Auburn/dark red

Eye Colour: Dark brown

Skin Colour: Tan with warm undertones

Any Scars: She’s got one on her chin from one of her first few nights in Shivington when someone pulled a knife on her and took a swipe. She also had a few scattered scars from the boat explosion, but the worse ones she ended up getting treated.

Any Tattoos: V’s got plenty. Two swimming koi on her left shoulder blade. A Saints/angel’s wing on one forearm, and a snake coiled around her other forearm. A nautical star on her neck, and a large dragon running down her thigh and over her knee to her calf. Also, a gun ‘tramp stamp’ of sorts, that’s visible above the top of her pants,

Any Piercings: Both of her ears are pierced, along with her eyebrow.

Other Notable Features: V’s almost infamous for her freckles.

Random Facts: Worked at Freckle Bitch’s when she was younger, and still remembers most of the jingles. An absolute fool for Drive-In movies, and gets the old lot in Stilwater renovated so it can be used again. Might’ve inspired a certain you-know-who listed above.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. LVIII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Cain's Mark vs Profound Bond

(10x15/10x16/10x17)

Hello my friends! Today we are going to talk about three episodes from this season exploring the big fight between Cain's Mark (the monster inside Dean) vs Profound Bond (Destiel).

Cole: another switch mirror

In episode 10x15 'The Things They Carried' we meet Cole again.

But again after to jump into that, let's recall that glorious scene in which one sheriff offered Dean a piece of cake...

Gif set credit @deanwinchesters

And is time for the crazy colors old lady here...

You know what cake means for Dean, okay, is not pie, but is like... He wants to eat Cas, and who don't? 🤣🤣😏

Okay... Blue plate... (CAS) Right? Dean is trying to reach it but Sam blocks it. Dean longs for that cake... Then, the cake is divided... There one big piece with a green and yellow candles (the two brothers) but green is Healing!Dean so, is good... Another piece with Blue and Res candles (Toxic/Violent!Dean and Cas). So one is good the other not so, maybe representing the end of the season in which Dean and Cas will have a very violent encounter, and Sam will be able to reach Dean in that Mexican bar (Las episode from this season).

Okay, my rant has no limits. I know. I also know you like me as I am. So is okay. 🤣🤣

Now. Cole's time.

Rick was Cole's best friend, he was a soldier. When Sam and Dean went to talk with his wife, this is what she said about his husband...

Gif credit @yaelstiel

BETH: Rick was a kind soul. He never took more life than he had to.

Is like talking about Dean here, knowing Dean will become a thirsty of revenge monster by the end of the season, this is an accurate description.

Talking about thirst of revenge...

BETH: No. But . . . Rick was . . . he was so . . . He was thirsty.

DEAN: Thirsty for what?

BETH: Water. He'd spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. And then, one night, I caught him in the tub drinking the bathwater. When l told him to stop, it was like he couldn't even hear me. And his skin, it got so dry it bled.

Another wife asking his husband to stop.

When Cole enters finds the Winchesters, he knows the brothers wanted to kill 'the monster'

So, here is when he became Sam/Cas mirror...

Gif set credit @loiah

Cole keeps his hopes, he wants to save his friend. Just like Sam and Cas want to save Dean.

Then, when the worm takes control of Cole, leading him to a metamorphosis into a monster, slow and painful, he switch to Dean mirror.

The parasite is Cain's mark. Hopefully Cole is healed. But the whole scene is like Dean looking at his reflection, trying to fight the monster/Cain's mark/parasite.

But at the end of the episode, this is what Dean says...

Gif credit @bellamy-octavia

Terrible, a self sentency, right?

The betrayal and what Dean really wants

Episode 10x16 'Paint it Black' we have two important point to watch.

First of all, the ghost Love's story talks about betrayal. The artist betrayed her. Betrayed their bond. Another Destiel foreshadow, another clue to is about to come, Dean finding Cas with Sam acting behind his back. Always with a romantic parallel, of course.

But this episode had a very, very important scene. Dean's confession.

Keep in mind we jus had two episodes with Dean eagerly eating cake. Cake represents his bi-self, the side of him that longs for Castiel.

So, the confession starts with Dean naming PIE, I mean... Women.

DEAN: Right. Good. Yeah. So, that, and, um…so the women. Uh, and this is not something that I’m proud of, but I let them think that we have more of a future than we do, you know? Ah, Gina.

Gina doesn't exist, is just a name in the name of all the women he knew. That's why Gina appears in the same paragraph he names women in general. The pie.

FATHER DELANEY: Gina?

DEAN: Well, now, don’t get me wrong. I mean, she was – it was good times. I mean, you know how it is – the sex, the lasagna – but I was not honest with her. And sometimes, I was seeing two, maybe three girls at the same time, sometimes in the same day. [Chuckles] you get the picture. And it wasn’t just Gina. It was endless. It’s making me sick.

This is a complex dialogue we have here. Gina is women, but it also is Dean's fem side. He wasn't honest with himself. He had so many women, not being honest with it, and it got him sick. Superficial encounters, not feelings, just sex. Not compromises. But inside of his soul... He was getting sick... Because that's not what he is or what he wants... He wants cake.

When the Father was about to end the confession, thinking Dean was over... Is when the real thing came out to light...

Gif set @yarnyfan

Dean wants to experience those feelings he has for Castiel for the first time. Because Cas gives him security, and profounding. Cas has done for him what no one did before. So Dean knows that what he feels for him must be true, must be love. And he wants to embrace it for the first time. Is one of the reasons why he doesn't want to die. So after talking about the superficial, the women, the pie, he goes for the cake. Is the good thing, the new thing, the different thing. He wants Castiel.

Now, just to finish this episode, there was another little foreshadow...

SAM: Is this you thanking me for not doing what you told me to do?

DEAN: You know, if you would have burned the journal, then we wouldn’t know how to kill it, would we?

Okay, remember when Dean asked Sam to burn the Book of the Condemn? And he didn't? Okay... We know Sam will give it to Rowena and through that book... They will erase the mark. Thanks to Sam who didn't obey his big brother this time.

The Plan to save Dean

Episode 10x17 'Inside Man' or... Bobbyyyyyy!!!! *horribly crying* sorry.

Mostly a beautiful Sam/Cas work team episode, and how they began to assemble the perfect work team of the entire show! (Sorry again, I love their dynamic) but I will talk here just a few things...

Bi!Dean winking at the bartender, and the bar full of red, (toxic!Dean).

The psychic just seeing colors when trying to read Cas. We love our gay angel.

Hannah saying Cas he was desperate to save Dean. Yes. She knows what is going on there between Cas and Dean.

Dean facing persons under the beast spell, thanks to Rowena, like a foreshadow of Dean facing Cas under the same spell.

To Conclude:

These three episodes talked about the fight inside Dean between Cain's mark, the parasite, the monster, and his profound bond with Castiel, expressed into words in his confession.

There a little clues foreshadowing the end of the season and how they will be erasing the mark.

I hope you like this, see you in the next one!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @sadpotato00 @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@imjuatkipping @destielle

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From this season, here you have the links:

Vol. LI, LII, LIII, LIV, LV, LVI, LVII.

Buenos Aires April 21st 2020 8:53 PM

[mousehole5000]

tgcf chapters 107 - 120 this is one where i give some Opinions. i do overall like hualian a lot but i have some quibbles

wait why am i still taking screenshots? i can copy/paste again afskldfjasad

It really was hard to tell whether people would feel happy after watching such performances. However, in truth, slaughter and the sight of blood did create excitement in people. Whether or not there was fear, after the initial shock was over, a rush of adrenaline would be produced in the heart- me watching horror movies

“Shi Qingxuan said. “Then, Your Highness, Crimson Rain Sought Flower! I order you to—to immediately strip each other’s clothing!” - djslkadjlsd WHY DID HE SPECIFICALLY SAY THEY HAD TO STRIP EACH OTHER THISALSKDJ is this a normal thing is it a wingman attempt what is happening

“I’ll tell you what it is,” he said softly. “To watch with your own eyes your beloved be trampled and ridiculed, yet be unable to do anything. That’s the worst suffering in the world.” ... “Ming Yi asked, “What’s the biggest regret of your life?”- when truth or dare gets a bit too real

On the side, Hua Cheng was still only observing, and was already bored to the point where he’d changed back into his red robes. Then he changed to black robes again. Then to white robes. Almost every time Xie Lian looked back, he would be donning a different appearance, and with every new look there were different hairstyles, and different accessories, and different boots, and so on; sometimes playful, sometimes elegant, sometimes deadly, sometimes glamourous. Xie Lian was growing dizzy from all the colours and kept looking back, unable to look away. - THIS ISNT THE TIME HUA CHENG. YOURE PRIMPING. THE WINDMASTER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED AND YOURE PRIMPING

obsessed with xie lian not being able to figure out to use the windmaster’s fan and just. using it to SMACK

also windmaster??? whats going on??? :( i know some things from spoilers like who is not to be trusted but i really have no clue whats happening rn

anyways back to puqi shrine lets check on those kids also can we PLEASE get some funds for this restoration smh. hua cheng and xie lian doing mundane hard labor together to fulfill prayers.... :pleading:

jailbreak in the heavens 2: dig a tunnel

Sure enough, the moment Ming Yi put pressure on his shovel, a hole opened up before them. With the shovel raised, he burrowed crazily ahead while Shi Qingxuan, in the middle, cheered him on crazily. As the only non-crazy person, Xie Lian brought up the rear. That treasured shovel of the Earth Master was indeed magical, and with only a few strokes, a new tunnel of over ten meters was dug. - anybody remember mulch diggums from the artemis fowl series? this is much more dignified than that but i think this is only the second time ive read a character just starting digging a tunnel as a plot point

okay so much is going on i wish i hadnt spoiled who certain characters actually are for myself but i have no one to blame but me for a) not blacklisting spoilers at all and b) just having a little freefall through the tags. oh well. anyway heavenly college admissions scandal except way worse. the corruption extends to the heavens and the windmaster is having a very bad day

i guess we’re having a high seas adventure now?

im gonna keep it real im getting tired of how often we get told how handsome hua cheng is. i know its all xie lian’s pov and while im not terribly familiar with it i know what genre we’re working with and im assuming thats pretty typical. its something i dont much care for in general and idk maybe it sounds better in the original but ngl its starting to make me roll my eyes. love you goth king but god okay we get it.

i guess what i will say about hualian so far is that overall i like them and i like how they interact in general they have a lot of nice moments and they just genuinely seem to like each other which is really nice to see EXCEPT for when it actually comes to things that could be romantic or sexual which is a shame bc i dont think it has to be like this. again disclaimer that im only reading a translation and dont know everything might not have all the knowledge necessary to accurately criticize etc etc and im assuming a lot of this is expected from the genre (disclaimer to this disclaimer that i cant say that for sure its just based on things ive picked up about the bl genre over the years) but idk like xie lian was so distressed after their underwater kiss scene. it was kind of uncomfortable to read and maybe im being unfair i know his cultivation is based around abstinence or whatever but idk i dont care for it. and that scene alone doesnt have to be a bad thing like idk i guess its his first kiss ever (?) and it would make sense if he feels weird about it but i just have my doubts thats going to be addressed or resolved in a satisfying way. also im like. dude everyone is like centuries old. xie lian’s been on earth for 800 years. has he really never met or heard of a gay person during all this time? maybe he hasnt idk what he got up to yet maybe that’s actually a thing. also same thing with the reactions from the immortals to xie lian in a dress and characters like the windmaster like again you’re all centuries old and its not uncommon to be able to just completely change gender presentation. why are you all weird about a man wearing a woman’s dress? i just feel like that shouldnt be a big deal to these characters idk

also again not going to lie part of this that im not really a big fan of reading romance in general. yes i am reading this book. yes i do read and write a lot of fanfic that includes or centers romance. im multifaceted. but really what im talking about is the like physical side of it and descriptions im extremely picky about it. ill give an example. early on in the torture pit (or whatever it was called i cant remember lol) when xie lian kind of accidentally felt up hua cheng in the dark when he was being carried. i dont think thats a bad thing to have happen between the two romantic leads i think thats fine and good to include that early but i just did not enjoy reading it when it happened idk maybe it was the wording and i do think that moments like these work better in a visual medium. ive definitely read het romance that reads like this and i wasnt a fan of that either lol same with fanfic i get tired when writers go on and on about how hot one characters finds another character. this isnt a huge criticism of it like i said im picky but again like with the way that hua cheng is described it just makes me roll my eyes sorry kings

okay back to the reading. this whole saving the fishermen thing feels like a big set up for something narrative-wise. hua cheng specifically insisted on coming and i know one of the characters involved ends up dying im wondering if thats now it would be a good time tbh if things get just a bit too unfortunate during this heavenly calamity... and the brothers are notably not having a harmonious time... also tho it feels very likely we’ll just have another Hualian Moment (tm)

In such a situation, Pei Ming still acted the same. In the evening, when they rescued a few fishermen girls, so scared their eyes were blurry from tears, he held them in his embrace and soothed them with a gentle voice; a true show of honeyed romance, affectionate and charming. - pei ming please get pickled again.

also its funny that hua cheng is just kinda hanging out and everyone else just has to deal with it

Looking down from above, the entire area was painted in a terrifying black. It was easy to see the collision between the two different-coloured currents. Their fierce battle was what formed this enormous whirlpool. As the eye swallowed the ship whole, the two currents of water separated. However, the battle was far from over. Like two venomous vipers, they continued to snap at each other. Each collision was followed by a mountain of angry waves. - this pretty dope ngl. also love our wind and earth masters just chilling on a shovel i dig it. hehe

Yet, other than discovering Hua Cheng had a fine body, there were no other finds. Xie Lian was at his wit’s end and started to worry. - okay see this one’s funny im just also irritated bc im like WE KNOW!!! WE GET IT HE’S HOT AND XIE LIAN THINKS HE’S HOT OKAY GOT IT

okay kiss #2 again its not the kisses themselves its xie lian’s reaction it just bothers me idk im not saying i need him to be super into it and completely unconflicted about it rn but he’s just so freaked out about it and idk i just dont really like it just feels weird i dont care for that aspect of it. also dude hua cheng is a ghost and he did this exact same thing for you before just chill. i wish instead of xie lian literally running away while screaming that hes sorry he was just like “oh haha youre fine thats cool im gonna go look around the woods i dont feel weird about this at all haha” like idk its kind of funny but when its literally our two romantic leads i just feel like its confusing like it kind of makes me feel like they shouldnt be together if one of them freaks out this much again considering the fact that they are both CENTURIES old. i know i know xie lian is an 800 year old virgin but. he hasn’t been like this about anything else so yeah idk like it still could have been awkward and funny i just dont think it needed to be so :/ that being said it was funny that xie lian was then internally like “oh i did it wrong? perhaps i should ask him for more.. instructions....” if that actually happens i might like it bc it would complete this little watery theme

Before he finished, he immediately remembered. Coffin wood. There were trees here everywhere; and a deceased? There was one right before his eyes. Sure enough, Hua Cheng smiled. “Won’t it be fine once I lie inside? - love that hua cheng just sat on the fact that he can turn anything into a coffin. that would have been really useful information earlier but no he just waited until everyone but xie lian was gone afjaklsdjf

also i do think that oblivious xie lian thinking “wow whoever it is that hua cheng fancies is an idiot for not liking him back theyre totally taking him for granted :/” is kind of funny and sweet. actually the whole conversation they have at the campfire is good and im bookmarking it to think about later

“...You on top and me on the bottom,” Xie Lian replied. “Isn’t top and bottom the same?” Hua Cheng asked. - okay im sorry but. mood whenever theres discourse about top/bottom dynamics for a ship im just like jesus christ i dont care. tbh i rarely read fanfiction if its just sexual and ngl if i see a fic specifically tag characters as top or bottom i wont read it lmfao. especially when people have really strong opinions about this stuff when theres nothing canonical to back it up like headcanon all you want but whenever i see people argue about it im just like no offense but go work out your own sexual issues and dynamics instead of arguing with strangers on the internet about who’s a top and who’s a bottom. sorry to be mean but just thats how i feel lol

this was mostly a ramble with a few excerpts but im getting sleepy im going to TRY to take a break from this for like a day but we’ll see how that goes i do very much want to know what happens. anyway if you read this whole thing hiiiiii sorry for subjecting you to my opinions on top/bottom discourse

[drakeandkatherine]

The Royal Romance AU Fan Fiction- Drake x MC Trouble: Chapter 2  I Dare You

Finally! Chapter 2 is here! Catch up with chapter one here! (also made a couple small dialogue changes so feel free to read it again! also...cause its been months since i posted the first chapter I feel like a refresh might be needed)

Trouble will be completely different from my previous fic, Trouble Is.

As always, Drake, Hana, Liam, Maxwell, Olivia, Madeline, and any other characters from The Royal Romance belong to Pixelberry. My MC Katherine Delacroix is all mine and i love this bean.

Description: A game of truth or dare with a twist await Katherine and friends. What could go wrong? 

In this AU the TRR gang are in college and royal life never existed for them! As I write these characters, I am trying to think of how they would be and how they would act and talk, if they never had courtly manners and rules to follow. I want to keep them similar to TRR canon, but not so much that it isn't realistic with how they are without a royal life in Cordornia. So please bare with me!

Warnings: drinking/alcohol use, language, drug mentions, death mentions

Tags: @drakewalker04​ @burnsoslow​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @princessleac1​

“Alright! I think we have enough players. Let’s get this game started!” Maxwell smiled and looked around the small circle that had formed around the fire pit.

“What are the rules this time, Maxwell?” A blonde sitting across from Katherine asked. ‘He looks like a prince.’ Katherine thought. 

“Ah, good question, Liam. The rules tonight will be...” Maxwell took a minute to think. “Aha! If you pass a dare, you have to take a shot. Truths are free game, but you can’t pass a dare without taking a shot!” Everyone nodded. Just then, a platinum blonde came stumbling to the circle, sitting on Liam’s lap. 

“Are we really playing this stupid game again?” She asked, taking a swig of the bottle she held in her hand. Liam sighed, looking visibly annoyed. 

“You know, Madeline, if you don’t want to play, you can go back inside.” He said, clearly not enjoying the drunk girl sitting on his lap. Katherine couldn’t help  but stare. This girl, Madeline, was clearly wasted. Madeline noticed Katherine’s eyes on her. 

“What are you staring at?”Madeline’s eyes narrowed.  Katherine shook her head. 

“Just admiring how pretty you are.” Katherine lied. She didn’t say anything more. Drake leaned over and whispered in Katherine’s ear.

“That’s Madeline. Liam is her ex boyfriend, the one who’s lap she's sitting on. Liam is also my best friend, so I truly have a distaste for that bitch.” Katherine nodded, understanding. “They had a bad break-up, but every time Madeline gets like this she believes they’re still together.” Nodding, she turned her attention back to Maxwell.

“Okay, time to start! Hmm, I think I’ll choose the newbie first. What’s your name?” Maxwell looked to Katherine.

“Me? I’m Katherine.”

“Alright then, Katherine, truth or dare?” Maxwell smiled.

“I guess I’ll start off strong. Dare.” She noticed as some of the others in the circle smiled and snickered, possibly thinking she was a fool for picking dare on the first turn. 

“Oh, hell yeah! Starting the game off right! Okay, I dare you to stand on one leg until you’re chosen again.” Katherine groaned. 

“I’d rather take a shot, thank you.” She grabbed one of the bottles nearby and poured a shot. She tossed it bag, ignoring the urge to gag. ‘Ugh, vodka is not my thing.’

It was her turn to choose next, so she chose Madeline. “Madeline, truth or dare.” Katherine smirked.

“Ugh, if I have too. Truth.” She slurred.

“Why are you acting like a clingy, pathetic puppy towards Liam when he is clearly annoyed with you?” The group went silent. No one had ever stood up to Madeline before, much less insulted her. Katherine hated these kinds of girls, but never had the confidence to do anything about it. ‘Again with this weird confidence. Who am I?’

“Why you..” Madeline started to get up from Liam’s lap. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

“Speak to you like what? Like a normal, sane person asking why you’re being the exact opposite? Get a clue, dude. Stop acting like you’re still together with him, he clearly wants nothing to do with you. Anyone here can see it.” Madeline was seething now. She started taking steps towards Katherine, stumbling. Partygoers had begun to pull their phones out, recording what was happening.

“You’re going to regret th- ow!” Madeline tripped and fell onto the grass, the bottle in her hand dropping and spilling all over Hana.

“Oh my god!” Hana jumped up from where she was sitting, now soaked in the vodka Madeline had spilled. Some who saw what happened started to laugh. Some looked like they felt sympathy for Madeline. 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Liam sighed as he went over and helped her up. “I’m sorry about all of this, excuse us.” He left with Madeline, nearly having to carry her into the house. 

“That. Was. Awesome!” Maxwell exclaimed, turning excitedly to Katherine. “I haven’t seen anyone put her in her place like that since Olivia did, almost a year ago.” 

“Did someone say my name?” A red-headed girl walked over. “That was impressive, I’m Olivia.” Olivia held out her hand. Katherine shook it and smiled. 

“Thanks. I despise people like that, so I just said what everyone was thinking.” She shrugged. 

“Well, you’re good in my book. I hate that soul sucking succubus.” Olivia laughed. Hana walked over to the little group and grabbed Katherine’s hand. 

“Hey, I am soaking wet, mind coming inside with me while I dry off?” Katherine nodded. 

“Sorry guys, gotta go for now. I’ll see y’all later!” Katherine followed Hana indoors and stood outside the bathroom as Hana grabbed a towel to dry off the vodka.  After a few minutes of waiting and growing impatient, Katherine wandered down the hall. She noticed a door was open and took a peek inside. Drake was sitting on the bed in the room, filling up a glass pipe with what looked like marijuana.

“You gonna share?” Katherine asked, stepping into the room and spooking Drake in the process, nearly making him drop the pipe.

“Jesus, knock next time would you?” Drake scolded. Katherine took a seat next to Drake and laughed.

“I could, but that wouldn’t be any fun.” 

“Whatever. I guess I could share a couple hits of this with you.” Drake said before lighting the bowl and taking a long drag. As he exhaled, he passed it to Katherine. “You smoke?”

“Occasionally. Not as often as I used to.” She said before taking her own long drag from the bowl. “Whenever I snuck out and went to my friends house we would always smoke a bowl.” Her fingers brushed his as she handed it back to him, a jolt of electricity running through her from the touch. ‘I wonder if he felt that too.’

“Heh. I only smoke every once in a while. Just to calm my nerves or irritation from all the dumbasses who come here.” He put the bowl on the side table next to the bed. “Sneaking out? Guess you must have had some strict parents.”

“My grandma was pretty strict.”

“What about your mom and dad?”

“Dead.” Katherine said deadpan. Drake cursed himself. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something.” He apologized, but Katherine shrugged.

“It’s okay, they died when I was 6.” Katherine forced a smile. “I barely remember them.”

“What happened?” Drake scooted a little closer to her on the bed, hands nearly touching.

“Some bad shit. Like, really bad.” Katherine took a breath. “When I was six, we were visiting my grandma and they had gone out in the middle of the night. They were heavy drug users, I’m talking about heroin, meth, pills. The whole works.” Drake put a comforting hand over her own, nodding and listening.

“Well, I found out what happened when I was older. I found out about how they were users. That night they left, the night they died, was because of a drug deal gone wrong. My mom waited in the car while my dad went in to the house they were at to buy more heroin. He never came back out. Apparently he started a fight with them about the cost and the quantity or something and it got so bad that they just shot him dead. They found my mom, high off of her ass in the car. She had no idea what just happened, and she didn’t even notice when they walked up to the car window. They shot her through the window and fled the scene.” Katherine’s eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t quite sure why she was telling the whole story to a man she just met, but something about him made her trust him. Something about him simply screamed to her that he was safe. 

Drake squeezed her hand and pulled her into a hug. He held her as she sobbed quietly. 

“I’m sorry, that got really dark and now I’m getting make up on your shirt and I must look like a mess.” Katherine said, wiping the tears from her eyes and sitting up right. Drake gave her a small smile. 

“It’s alright, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry that happened to your parents. And to you. No one should have to go through that.” Katherine managed a small smile, thankful for his understanding.

“Thank you, Drake.” A moment of silence passed between them, before she spoke again. “What about you? If we’re sharing our life stories, might as well get it out.” Drake looked at her for a long moment before sighing.

“Well, my mom lives in Texas. It’s where I grew up and met Liam. My dad was in the military and died overseas. My sister goes to a college in Texas, she didn’t want to leave. I felt like I had to the moment I could or else I was going to go insane and be trapped there forever.” Katherine knew exactly what he meant.

“So, how did you end up here? How did you meet Liam?” Katherine asked, lightening up the conversation.

“Liam lived in Texas for a few years when we were kids. We went to the same school and became best friends pretty quickly. He ended up moving here, due to his dad getting a job as this colleges dean. After my dad died, I knew I had to get out of Texas. I’d see Liam on breaks from school occasionally, and one time he mentioned that I should try to get into Applewood. So, that’s what I did. I played sports and kept my grades up in school to make sure I’d get accepted. I’m here on a scholarship, believe it or not.” 

“I can believe it.” Katherine said, smiling. “That’s why I’m able to be here.” She looked at him, feeling the magnetic pull becoming stronger from their conversation. Drake felt it as well, now inches away from her lips, until they heard a loud round of cheering coming from downstairs. Startled and flustered, Katherine stood up from the bed. “We should get back to the party.” Drake nodded, standing up as well. 

Upon returning to the party, they made their way to the kitchen where none other than Hana was lying on the kitchen isle, with her shirt pulled up. Three shots were lined on her stomach, along with salt and lime wedges. 

“Hana, what are you doing?” Katherine asked, walking up to the isle. 

“Body shots! This is so much fun!” Hana laughed. After a random partygoer took the shots and licked the salt off of Hana’s stomach, she stood up and nearly fell to the floor. 

“Whoa, we should get you back to our dorm. You’re definitely drunk.” Katherine said as she caught Hana before she could fall to the floor.

“You’re probably, hiccup, right.” Hana giggled. Katherine looked at Drake. “I’m sorry, but I have to go get this one to bed before she throws up.” 

“It’s all good. Make sure you guys get back safe. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon. Good night, Katherine.” Drake smiled, before turning away and walking back up the stairs to his room. ‘Dumbass. Why didn’t you offer to walk with her?’

----------------------------------------

“Alright, Hana. Here you go.” Katherine laid her down onto the bed, even going as far as taking off her shoes. Within an instant, Hana was quietly snoring away. Katherine quickly changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, mind reeling from the events of the night, and thoughts of Drake. Before long, her body gave out and she fell into a heavy sleep.

[tastingmellow]

Wretched In The Depths

A/N: So, I decided I wanted to try something new. This is gonna deviate from my usual fluffy fics. It’s still an Au but I was thinking maybe having it be a part of a horror universe. Yes, I am considering making a Horror AU series for all your favorite MCU babies and so on. I’m personally a huge fan of horror but I know others aren’t so I’m not gonna be using my usual tag lists. With that being if you would like to be tagged in my horror au then just comment under this and I will gladly add you. Another note, I will still be finishing certain series and creating my regular ole fics, I just wanna branch out a little bit. I’m very proud of this fic. :)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Summary: You, Steve, and your children move into a new home when you start acting strange. 

Warnings: Attention! Please do not read if you aren’t comfortable with description of possessed individual, character death, death of animals, loss of child, and injuries. KInda angsty. Little bit of language in there.

Word Count: I don’t know, LET’S GET SPOOPY! This bitch long though! Also, gif not mine!

“Honey, please don’t put that in your mouth.” You reached behind Steve’s seat while he chuckled. You gently tugged the dog’s blanket from your 3 year old’s mouth and she giggled while you blew a stray curl out of your eye. You looked at your youngest daughter, her eyes catching your eye as she giggled and blew you kiss. You smiled, catching the kiss and placing it over your heart before leaning back in your seat. 

“How long until we get there, Pops?” Your 12 year old son, Ollie, called out to your husband. “Not too far. buddy. Just another mile or so.” Steve responded and your 16 year old daughter, Marina, spoke up. “Ma showed me pictures of the house. I did some research on the house and did you know that the past 3 families that lived there died in random, gruesome deaths?”

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah, i read about that. Lots of people were saying it was cursed by an old witch who led some weird cult hundreds of years ago. Spoooooky.” You and Marina giggled while Steve rolled his eyes. “Daaaad, do you have to let them talk like that around me?’ Your son spoke up and you turned to face him. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I know how much you hate that kind of talk.” You gently patted his knee and gave a sympathetic smile while Marina sat back. “Sorry, Ollie. It’s just really interesting, ya know?” Ollie huffed as he rubbed your Golden Retriever’s head. “I guess...” He mumbled and Marina frowned a bit. “Don’t pout on me, man. Look, when we get there and we’re all settled how about we play a few rounds of Mortal Kombat?”

Ollie immediately smiled wide, a grin you loved to see. “You’re on!” 

“We’re here. The movers aren’t too far behind us.” Steve spoke as you pulled into the driveway of the house. It stood tall, a little dirty but nothing that couldn’t be power washed. Everything looked to be in good shape, windows in tact, shutters as well. A small swingset stood off to the side of the yard near a small lake. “I’ve seen the pictures but Steve...this beautiful.”

Your youngest daughter, Sommer, held onto Marina’s hand while Ollie and your dog, Piper walked around the trunk of the car to get their bags. “Duckie!” Sommer called out and you giggled, clapping your hands at her recognition. “Yes! That’s a Duckie!”

Steve walked around the back of the car and grabbed a few bags with very little strain while your son attempted to hide his strain. “You guys should start putting me in lifting classes.” Steve huffed out a laugh and looked down at his son. “You’re a little too young, kiddo. Let’s wait until 13 and see if still feel the same.”

You gently grabbed a bag from Steve’s arm and he gave you a look. “What? I’m not gonna let you carry all this on your own.” 

Marina quickly tugged the bag from your hand and you scoffed. “Your 8 and a half months pregnant. Let’s not induce your labor just yet.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, huffing as you grabbed Sommer’s hand. “I’ll unlock the door then. Wasn’t even a heavy bag.” You mumbled that last part and Steve sighed as you waddled off to open the door. 

“What are we gonna do with her, dad?” Marina spoke and Steve shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have no clue, doll. But enough stalling, let’s get these bags in so you guys can pick your rooms.”

That got the kids moving faster!

______________________________

The first few days were quiet, nothing  really going on since you all had moved in. The kids helped unpack while Steve did most of the brunt work. He and the kids, however, would not let you on your feet for more than 10 minutes. Even Sommer chimed in one time with a surprisingly stern “Mommy, sit.” 

Steve decided to leave his company’s work up to his best friends, Bucky and Sam, temporarily since you were due any minute now. 

The house was dusty considering no one had lived in it for over 50 years, needed a few renovations but nothing your Stevie couldn’t fix. 

Today was particularly quiet, Steve had ran out to pick up an extra can of paint and Marina and Ollie were at school. Sommer would have been home with you but Steve’s mom insisted on giving the two of you a break, especially you so she had taken your youngest for the week.

You gently hummed along to Anita Baker’s Sweet Love, softly singing the lyrics to yourself as you swayed. You were making dinner for the night, baked fish, grilled asparagus, and homemade mashed potatoes. You made triple what you really needed because Ollie and Steve alone could eat you out of a house. 

As you mashed the peeled and boiled potatoes you saw something dark quickly pass through your peripheral. Your head snapped up, your eyes immediately glancing at the doorway. “I think these floaters are getting worse.” You sighed and turned back to the small, steel, blue pot, seasoning the potatoes and mixing the dish before adding a bit of milk and letting it sit on low heat. 

You moved to check your fish before a thud from upstairs caught your attention. Your head snapped up. You quietly turned off the heat and wiped your hands before glancing out the window into the driveway. Steve wasn’t home yet so what the fuck was that?

You quietly grabbed the butcher knife the drawer and made your way towards the stairs. You huffed, calming your nerves before taking a step forward. you clutched the knife tightly in your hand as you took each step quietly. You were near the middl when the door opening startled you. You jumped and turned around, knife still in hand. 

“Honey, I’m ho--...i know your hormones are fucked but are you really about to stab me?” He spoke, a smirk on his lips as you rolled your eyes and came back down the steps. “It wasn’t for you. I thought I heard something upstairs. It was honestly probably just the house settling.” Despite the words you were saying you felt a cloud of unease engulf you. You rubbed your rounded belly for comfort as Steve rubbed your arms. He noticed the shaking in your words.

“Hey, hey. I’ll go check everything out up there and you just sit and take a moment to relax.” You nodded as he kissed your forehead and made his way up the steps quietly.

You sat the knife down in the kitchen. You leaned over the counter, taking deep breaths as your anxiousness continued to rise. Another loud thud caused you to flinch. You looked up at the ceiling before making your way back towards the stairs. Another thud made you jump, you were becoming even more weary by the second. “Steve?” You called out and it was silent for a moment before he made his way into your view. 

You took a breath but once registered his state you giggled. “I think I found what scared ya, doll.” His shirt was scratched across his chest and there were a few scratches on his hand but within it he held a raccoon. You giggled and he sighed, coming down the steps. “What were you doing up there little fella?” You spoke to the animal while following Steve as he took it to the tree line near the house. 

“Alright, go on.” He gently put the animal down and it scurried off into the woods. You sighed and walked back to the house, Steve following. 

Once inside you went back to your mashed potatoes, adding some shredded cheddar and parsley. Steve reached out to grab an asparagus and you smacked his hand. “I don’t think so. Go wash your hands and watch the game or something.”

“Excuse you, I prefer the design channel.”

“And that’s why I said or something.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.” He smacked your behind before going to wash his hands. You chuckled, mixing the potatoes as the bus pulled up in front of your house.

____________

“Why didn’t you keep it?!” Ollie screeched at the dinner table and you smiled. He had always loved animals. 

“Because it was wild which means us keeping it as pet isn’t exactly ideal.” You spoke and Steve nodded in agreement. “I don’t know, a pet raccoon sounds kind of cool.” Marina chimed in.

“See!” You giggled and shook your head. “Finish your food and we’ll talk about a pet raccoon.” 

Immediately, Ollie stuffed his mouth full of the salmon and mashed potatoes he had laughed. You laughed and grabbed your plates, standing to your feet. Steve gently grabbed your wrist. “I told you i would handle the dishes, darling.” You rolled your eyes and leaned down to kiss his lips. “I’m just gonna put them in the sink and soak them in some warm water and soap. Make it a little easier for you.”

Steve sighed giving you a smile before letting you go. “Gross.” Ollie spoke up and Marina smacked him in the chest lightly. “it’s not gross. It’s sweet. Dad’s completely in love with mom and she’s the same with him.” 

Steve nodded. “Exactly. You’ll be there soon enough. You’re gonna see the prettiest dame you’ve ever seen in life and then you’re gonna be stuck on her.”

You chuckled softly at their conversation, turning to the sink and placing the dishes in after stopping it up. You poured a bit of soap onto the m before turning on the water. You grabbed the sprayer hose and held it over  dishes. You waited for a few seconds, casually glancing around before your eyes landed outside. You squinted, think you’d seen someone out there. You blinked and it looked like a body was hanging from the large oak tree outside. 

Your hands shook, your breathing beginning to come out in short bursts. You tried calling Steve but his name wouldn’t come out. Within seconds the figure appeared in front of you outside. You saw Marina, face pale and bruised, blood running from her mouth as she gave you a sinister smile. She reached out towards you, her eyes rolling back while she twitched violently. 

You managed to let out a blood curdling scream as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your heads clutched your shirt tightly as your eyes fell closed. Your screams got louder and soon you were wrapped in someone’s arms. You don’t know when but apparently you had sunken down to the floor. You were pulled tight against a broad chest with a voice oddly familiar whispering to you that you’re okay.

Your body continued to shake as you sobbed. “No, no, no, no. Marina!” You sobbed out and cried harder. You felt soft hands on your face. “Mom, open your eyes.” You shook your head. “No, please not my Marina...” You whispered out, still sobbing until a cracked voice finally brought you back to Earth. 

“Mom, please! I’m right here, I’m right here.” You opened your eyes slowly. A wail escaped your lips as you saw your oldest, perfectly fine aside from the tears running down her face. You gathered her in your arms and hugged tightly. You shook, holding her tightly.

“Baby, what happened?” Steve asked as you pulled away. You sniffled and shook your head, not able to describe what you had seen. 

“Okay, okay. Let’s just go to bed. Kids put the food away.” Steve picked you up in a fireman’s carry before making his way up the stairs and into your bedroom. Your shaking had subsided by now, thankfully and your breathing was back to normal.”Angel, what happened?” 

You shook your head and grabbed his hand. “I can’t...Steve, it was so horrible.” Your eyes welled up with tears again before Steve quickly climbed in beside you and wrapped you in his arms. 

“Okay, okay. It’s alright. Marina’s okay, Ollie’s okay, Sommer’s okay. They’re all okay.”

__________________

The next morning, Marina had given you an extra tight hug and so had Ollie. Sarah was gonna drop Sommer off a little later so you had some time to yourself. You sat on your couch, eating a chocolate bar dipped in melted peanut butter. Steve plopped down beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while his hand fell to your belly. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

You shrugged. “I’m fine. Feeling a little tired but otherwise, okay.” You rested your head on top of his while he gently pulled your shirt up. He sat up at the dark bruise that had appeared on your brown skin. “What’s that?” You looked down and set down your treat. “I have no clue.” 

“Does it hurt?” You shake your head and rub your belly. “Not at all.” Steve’s eyes shifted to your neck. The top of a dark bruise appeared there. He gently tugged down your collar and you glanced down, eyes widening at the bruise. “What the hell?” You spoke up and Steve sat back. “We should get that checked, babe.”

You eyed the bruises and nodded. “Yeah, but it’s just two. And they don’t hurt so.”

“But they’re bruises, Y/N.” Steve gave you a hardened look and you sighed.

“I’m fine. I promise. Besides we have a check up next week. We’ll ask about it then.”

Steve opened his mouth to rebuttal before the doorbell sounded. You immediately got up and answered, seeing Sarah and Sommer. “Mommy!” You giggled as she jumped in your arms. “Hey, baby. Hi, Ma” You leaned in and gave Sarah a kiss before inviting her in. “Oh, this place is lovely. Where’s Steven?”

“Right here, ma.

Sarah immediately moved to give him a kiss on the cheek. You always loved seeing them interact, especially since Sarah seemed so small compared to Steve. He always had to strain his back to even give her a proper hug. “Oh, I feel like I haven’t seen you two in ages. Where are my other babies?”

You handed Sommer to Steve and she giggled as he covered her face in kisses. “They’re at school, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Oh, darling, it was a part of the plan anyway.” You chuckled and sat down as Steve went o grab a snack for Sommer. 

“So, how’s my fourth baby?” Sarah asked as she sat down near you. “He’s fiiiine. A little rowdy.” You rubbed your belly and Sarah looked at you, something soft in her eyes. “And you, hon?”

“I’m...okay.” You gave her a poor attempt at a smile and she gave you a look before you sighed. “Well,I keep having these weird like...visions. I had the worst one last night after dinner. And then not even five minutes before you got here Steve found these random bruises. They don’t hurt but it’s like they just appeared out of thin air. God, I sound like I’m insane.”

You sighed and Sarah patted your knee. “No, darling, you don’t. This place is beautiful but it’s something off about it. I don’t know about things like this but I know someone who does. His name is Johnny Blaze. Get in touch with him and tell him everything you told me. He’ll know what’s going on.” 

You looked at her and sighed. “I’ll think about it but it’s probably just my mind fucking with me.”  Sarah gently kissed your temple, rubbing your back softly.

__________________

That night you grabbed your laptop and searched up Johnny Blaze. Apparently he was a sort of seer and had a gift to see through another side of our world. You weren’t too keen on calling him just yet so you favorited his info before shutting your laptop for the night. Steve climbed in bed shortly after, his hands immediately going for your tummy. 

A sigh passed through your lips, catching Steve’s attention. “What’s on your mind, Sugar?” You shrugged, gently carding your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. “I don’t know. All this weird, scary shit going is getting to me.” Steve chuckled and gently grabbed your hand before placing gentle kisses from your palm up to your shoulder. 

“It may just be stress, darling. Tomorrow I’ll take you, Sommer, Piper and our growing bean to the park. Maybe go for some ice cream? How’s that sound?” 

You gave him a soft smile before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sounds perfect.” You leaned over to turn off your lamp before sinking into the warm comforter, Steve wrapping himself around you.

You stood quietly on your front porch, watching Ollie run around with Piper trailing behind him. Marina and Sommer sat under the large oak tree in your yard coloring together while Marina played music for the two of them. Your hands gently grazed over your rounded belly, a smile gracing your lips as felt your baby kick. A sigh passed through your lips as you turned to go back inside but you were immediately met with cold, dark, and dialated pupils.

Your breathing got stuck in your throat as the face of this...thing twisted into a menacing grin. Teeth dirty and rotten, saliva black and dripping from it’s mouth. You clutched your belly tighter as it began to speak. “I’ll take them by your hand.” It spoke, it’s voice low and gravelly. You opened your mouth to scream and it took the opportunity to force it’s hand down your throat. 

Your scream was immediately silenced as your hands attempted to claw at the thing standing in front of you. You felt a searing pain, like they were ripping something from you before it began screeching at you in a grating voice.

“WAKE UP.”

You became conscious to the fact that something was shaking you, gently but urgently. You heard feet padding around the room and seemingly distant pleas for you to wake up. Then you became aware of the screaming. Who the hell is screaming like that? Your eyes snapped open and you finally completely registered your surroundings and that you were in fact the one screaming. 

Your eyes darted around as your screams died down to short bursts of air. You noticed your children, then Steve, and finally a warm, wet sensation underneath you. “Y/N, baby! What happened?”

You don’t answer, just rip the sheets from your body. You immediately recognize the fluid currently making your sheets see through, a large pool of it forming under you. Your bottom lip shakes as you grip Steve’s hand when his eyes finally see what you’re staring at. 

You groan as a sharp pain sears through your abdomen, tears immediately forming. You vaguely hear Steve telling Marina to grab towels and put them in the car. You hear him telling Ollie to take Sommer back to bed as he picks you up and leads you down the steps and to the car. 

“Call your grandmother and tell her your mom is in labor. Do not open the door for anyone, she has a key. Get back inside.” Steve rushes out before putting you in the car and kissing her head. Another wave of pain hits and you wince, trying to breathe through it. You weren’t supposed to be feeling contractions this close were you?

___________________

Steve rushes down the highway as fast, yet safely as possible. He strokes your head and tells you encouraging words as sweat beats down on you and you try to contain the pain you feel. 

It feels like hours before Steve is finally ripping your door open and carrying you into the emergency room. “Help! My wife’s in labor!” He yells out and it immediately catches the attention of nurses. The grab a gurney and Steve places you on it before he follows you and the multiple nurses pulling you to the nearest delivery room.

You let out a strangled groan as another contraction rips through you, squeezing the hand of whoever was beside you. You couldn’t focus, the pain was intense and the bright lights made it no better. You vaguely hear someone over the intercom paging a doctor.

Your body is lifted and you’re shifted to a more stable bed as a woman rushes in. “How far are the contractions?” You groan as another one hits you and the nurse replies but you can’t hear. All of a sudden a masked face is hovering over yours, stroking your hair. A soft voice speaks, “Alright, Mrs. Rogers. I know this is soon but you need to push.”

A sob racks your body as another excruciating pain rips through you. You listen as best you can, pushing and stopping when they tell you to. Steve is right beside you, speaking sweet, encouraging words in your ear as you struggle to compose your pain vocally.

Finally, the stretching, the burning sensation, the pain all stops and you’re panting. You smile, you did it. You relax back into the bed before your eyes snap open. Why isn’t your baby crying? You sit up and you blink as your doctors roll your baby away. “Wait...wait! Where are they taking him!? Why can’t I hold my baby?”

Steve attempts to try to calm you but you don’t care. Where is your baby? Why won’t they let you see him? You start to thrash, vehemently trying to get up to follow but nurses hold you down. You feel a soft prick in your arm before you’re suddenly losing consciousness.

________________________________

When you come to Steve is there, his eyes rimmed red and clutching your hand as he sniffles. You groan, looking around the room slowly becoming aware of where you were. Oh, you had your baby! Where is he/she? You turn to Steve, gently squeezing his hand. He looks up and you frown at the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Where’s the baby?” You mutter softly and Steve sits up straighter, gripping your hand in both of his. 

He gives you a sorrowful look and you blink at him. He starts shaking his head and trying to find the right words to say this to you but you already register it. You remembered what happened after you have birth. You look at him in disbelief, shaking your head. “No, Steve...” You call out for him but his eyes fall to the ground. You start to shake, your mouth opening and closing, forming into a grimace as you feel unimaginable pain rip through your chest. “No, please, no....” You stutter, your breathing picking up as Steve stands, pulling your hand to his chest. You fight him, tears rushing down your cheeks as screams of sorrow escape you.

You fight Steve so hard he has to climb into your hospital and tightly wrap his arms around you while laying his weight on you. You let out a gut wrenching howl of agony into his chest. Steve just holds you tighter as nurses rush in. They stop at the sight, understanding your pain since they were the ones who helped deliver your still born.

____________________________

You’re released from the hospital a few days later but you’re not the same. when you get home you don’t acknowledge your children who come rushing towards you. You don’t acknowledge Sarah as she gives an understanding, pain filled look. You just walk inside and immediately go to your bedroom.

Steve explains what happened to the kids, explaining it a bit differently to Sommer since she was only 3. When he speaks to his mother, her face twists in horror. “I’d never seen her like that, Ma. She was so hurt and in pain. The doctors were even considering keeping her and putting her on suicide watch.”

When Steve goes upstairs that night he hears you sobbing, he joins you. His arms are tight around you and he’s holding you tight as you shake. He’s comforting you but there’s an unsettling pit in his stomach and he doesn’t know why.

Things get worse over the next month. You had barely spoken a word since. You’ve barely showered on your own. Your kids have become weary of you. Marina tries to talk to you when you’re downstairs but you just stair off into space. Ollie attempts to get you to play with him and Piper but you ignore him. Poor Sommer keeps showing you her art but you don’t care. Steve tells them to give you time but they’re worried, scared even.

Steve’s scared too. More bruises keep appearing. Every time the dog comes near you she barks and you damn near growl back at her, sending her scurrying away. Your usually glowing deep, brown skin has become dull, lifeless. Your curls would usually be messy but full of life and always had a purposeful place in your hairstyles but now he began to notice areas beginning to become matted. You didn’t let him touch you in anyway whatsoever.

One day Steve goes to pick up dinner while you’re home alone. The kids are at school and Sommer tagged along with Steve. You’re sitting on the couch, in a old Howard University sweatshirt when Piper rounds the corner and begins barking at you. You ignore it as Piper begins to turn her attention elsewhere and then she begins barking at the corner. 

You sigh and get up, opening the front door and she runs out. You silently make your way back to the couch and sit. You hear a whimper and a loud crack but you ignore it.

________________________

Ollie discovers the dog. Its neck twisted in a sick way and blood oozing out. Steve nearly loses his lunch. The next day, they bury her under the tree out front. When Steve turns, rubbing Ollie’s back he sees you staring out from the kitchen window. You turn silently and walk away but he doesn’t expect to see a pale woman, teeth black giving him a sinister grin before he turns, not realizing he had stopped breathing.

A week after that he wakes up to Sommer screaming bloody murder in her room. He rushes over and sees her thrashing under the covers. Marina rushes in as Steve picks her up and holds her tight while she cries into his shoulder. When he turns towards the door he sees you just as you turn to go back to your shared room. Sommer begs him to protect her from the scary lady with no teeth that night and he does.

Marina, unbeknownst to Steve, had seen the woman too. She had seen her the night you had your breakdown in the kitchen and since then she’s been doing her research. She talked to her grandmother the night you went to the hospital and Sarah had given Marina the same advice she had given you: Call Johnny Blaze.

The following morning after Sommer’s incident, Marina sits across the table from Steve as he reads. “Dad...” Steve looks up, placing the paper down. “Yes, sweetheart?’

“I’ve seen the lady. The lady with no teeth...I’ve seen her too. Except she’s not toothless it just looks like she has tar as saliva..”

Steve pauses and sighs, grabbing his daughter’s hand as she continues. “I think that’s why mom is being so weird. I did the research on this house and mom was right. A witch did curse this place and I think she’s coming after mom.”

Steve chewed his lip before sighing. “Marina...” He begins but she stops him. “Dad. please. I even looked up the stages of possession. Oppression, break down the victim. That thing has been terrorizing mom since we got here. Obsession, consume their life. All of us has seen that woman, even Sommer and Ollie. And then possession, I think it’s in the process of that right now with mom. I think...It’s plan is to kill all of us.”

Steve scoffed and Marina shook her head, frantically trying to make her dad listen. “I know you’ve seen the way Piper acted around mom. Dogs are good senses of characters and spirits. She loved mom, why would she just turn all of a sudden. And...And...I’ve caught mom standing over Ollie’s bed, just staring. I even caught her staring at me once at night, growling at me.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this?”

“I was scared! I wasn’t sure if I had just dreamed or what but...I think she tried to get Sommer last night and when you stopped her she was pissed so that’s why we--”

She was cut off by Steve dragging across the table as a chair was launched in her direction. She screamed as Steve immediately dropped to the floor. “We need to call Johnny Blaze.”

_____________

The next night Johnny was there, he greets Steve and the children. He steps into the house and winces. “Ah, I think it’s best if you’re children leave. As soon as possible.”

Steve nods and grabs his phone to calls his mom as he rushes the kids upstairs to grab a set of clothes for the night. He tells Sarah to come immediately and she’s already on her way out the door before he hangs up. He turns towards Johnny, wringing his hands together, “Can you really help my wife?” 

Johnny nods, looking around the house. “I can but she has to work just as hard to fight whatever it is that’s attached itself to her and is trying to crawl inside.” Steve nods and opens his mouth to speak before a scream from up the steps catches both of their attention.

Both men rush up the stairs to see you holding Sommer by the neck with a pair of scissors trying to come down into her chest. Marina is holding that hand back while Ollie is shaking in the corner. Steve grips him by the shoulders. “Go outside, your grandmother will be here. Do not come back in this house!” Ollie follows, rushing down the steps.

Johnny manages to pry the scissors from your hands and Marina is wrenching your hand from around her little sister’s neck. When Sommer is finally free she runs as best as her tiny legs can, taking the same path as Ollie. Steve tackles you to the ground when you attempt to chase after, pinning his body weight on top of you. 

“Marina, go!” Steve yells towards her and she hesitates before leaving the room as well. You’re growling like an animal and Steve finally gets a good look at you he cringes. Your pupils are dilated and tiny. Your face is sunken and there’s cuts covering it, you smell awful and your skin looks lifeless. He feels tears forming in his eyes while Johnny is speaking some words in a foreign language. You twist and howl beneath your husband as he continues. He watches as your back arches, a loud crack threatening to send bile up his throat. “What are you doing?! You’re hurting her, stop that!”

Johnny ignores him and continues as Steve watches you claw and scratch at his hands, you’re screaming but your voice sounds distorted, like yours and someone else’s were mixing. Then he heard you, your voice calling him. “Steve, please!” You yelled out and Steve panted, shaking his head before leaning down and whispering how much he loved you and how strong you were in your ear.

You sobbed as Johnny continued his chanting, only being able to assume he was trying to get this witch out of you. When he sat up to look at you he was taken aback, seeing the woman with tar in her mouth grinning at him. She spoke to him, her voice gravelly like someone had taken a cheese grater to her vocal cords. “She screams for you, Stevie. Come get her, Stevie. Come get her!” The woman taunts before letting out a laugh. 

Suddenly, you’re yanked from underneath with such force he couldn’t hold on. “Y/N!” You’re tumbling down the stairs before you’re on your feet and yanking the front door open. “She’s going for the kids!” Johnny yells after Steve. Steve’s almost to you when you’re suddenly running, dragging Ollie behind you as you make your way to the kitchen in haste. 

Ollie screams, grasping your wrist as you laugh loudly, sinister smile on your lips. You grab the nearest knife and turn, smiling at Steve as Marina, Sommer, and Johnny rush in. “I’m gonna take all this bitch’s children one by one then I’m gonna take her.” The woman’s voice rings out and Steve rushes forward to grab your hand. You’re struggling enough to have to let Ollie go, trying to fight off Steve. 

“No! Y/n, I know you hear me. I need you to fight this thing, you have children who need you. I need you.” He pleads and the witch laughs. “She’s weak, Stevie. And I’ll take her and all you bastards down with me!”

“Mom, please!” Marina calls out and you pause, almost as if the got through to you, the real you. “I need you, mom. Please, Ollie and Sommer need you!” 

Your lip quivers as you stare at Steve. “Y/n, you have to keep this thing under control while i do this.” Johnny reaches to place a hand on your chest and you shake your head. “No, no. She won’t let me go, she won’t.”

Johnny shook his head. “Yes, she will...” You smile at him. “She’ll terrorize us...them. Thank you for helping my family as best you could but she’ll never let them go.”

 You look at you children, giving them a teary smile before mouthing ‘I love you.’ You turn to Steve and stroke his cheek with your free hand, “I love you so much, Stevie. You were first and only love. I need you to take care of my babies for me.”

Steve shook his head. “No, Johnny is gonna get that bitch out of you and you’re gonna take care of them with me...” His voice shakes and you shake your head, gently kissing his lips. “Take care of my babies and move on...for me.” You smile at him, sadness and light in your eyes before you rip your hand from him and plunge the knife into your chest. You vomit immediately afterwards, black liquid escaping your mouth and spilling onto the floor. When you finished you still went limp slightly shaking as  clutched onto Steve.

You gasp, sinking to your knees while still clutching the knife. Steve called out to you frantically, sinking with you as he held your face. Your children rushed over and Steve tried to shield them from you but Marina reached out, touching your cheek. 

“Look after your dad for me, baby. T-tell Sommer that i l-loved her...every day.” You whispered and Marina nodded, kissing your hand as you turned, looking uo to see Ollie. He was confused, you could tell so you turned to Steve. “Remind him how m-much i loved him...”

Steve sobbed, letting his tears fall onto your face as he shakily kissed your lips. You looked at him, giving him a final smile before you let go. Steve watched the life leave your eyes, held you tight as you went limp in his arms. He sobbed into your chest, letting shaking his head as he screamed into your chest. 

You weren’t coming back, you couldn’t come back.

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Your funeral wasn’t big, just with close friends and family. The immediate family released yellow butterflies in your honor once you had been lowered into the ground while your friends released white butterflies.

Steve held your children close, hugging them tightly and then he noticed something. Sommer’s butterfly refused to leave its jar. He tried to coax it out but it just backed deeper into the jar. He felt tears slowly rolling down his cheeks as he smiled, knowing that it was indication that you were gone but you’d always be right there. 

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A/N: Yes, I ended on a corny sappy note because i WANTED TO. Hope ypu enjoyed! :)