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river-of-wine · 1 year ago

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I know I’ve mentioned this plenty of times before but I’m still kind of annoyed by how the fanbase just kind of completely declawed the four lords and placed the entirety of the responsibility for their wrongdoings on Mother Miranda.

The Baker family are great, I love them, they’re an incredible unit of antagonists who are intended to be very sympathetic, at least for the most part. Jack and Marguerite in particular have lost all control over their minds and their bodies, turning into extremely violent murderers and cannibals who threaten and attack their own family, kill anyone unfortunate enough to come across them and, especially in Marguerite’s case, lose complete autonomy over their own bodies. Marguerite turns into a walking bug hive who’s only purpose is to feed her family and birth her new children. Jack is an unstoppable murderous force of patriarchal violence who has so much fun chasing down and harming his victims, which in the Daughters DLC includes even his own daughter. The exception to this is obviously Lucas, who has been cured of his infection and his acting of his own free will. All of this is caused by Eveline, everything Jack and Marguerite do controlled by her, and yet Eveline is just as sympathetic as the rest of them. She’s a ten year old girl. Even Jack, who has watched his family and their victims suffer because of her infection, doesn’t seem to hold any of it against her. She just wants a family of her own, after all. It’s a complex and tragic situation.

The four lords, while I suppose being similar in structure, are not the Baker family. Not in dynamic, not in character, not in the kind of tragedy that they embody. I could talk for a while about just how completely different they are, but I don’t know if I really need to.

The Baker family are so tragic because they were just innocent bystanders trying to help a woman and a little girl they found in a shipwreck out in a storm. That’s the only reason they ended up in the situation that they were in. While the lords have similar origins, being victims of Mother Miranda’s experiments to bring her daughter Eva back, an important distinction between them is that in the case of the lords, all four of them are still acting of their own free will. Yes, Mother Miranda has undeniable power over them. She leads the cult they are part of, she has control over the village, she is their superior. However, I really dislike when every negative action by the lords is pushed onto her, as if the lords are not all grown adults who are for the most part acting independently of her.

With Alcina, she is the head of her own extremely brutal crimes. I think a lot of people have forgotten quite how horrifying the situations of the maidens are, possibly due to the prevalence shipping between Alcina and the maidens, and though we have minimal information what we do know is very frightening. Alcina uses her work force like livestock, draining them for their blood in a cellar full of horrific torture devices, and leaves their corpses to shamble around, armed and ready to attack any unwanted guests that have slipped out of the daughter’s clutches so that Alcina still doesn’t have to do her own dirty work, given how highly above everyone but Mother Miranda she appears to view herself as. While yes, Alcina does need human blood to survive, her methods are brutal, and none of this has been enforced upon her by Mother Miranda. Similarly to Jack on occasion, she takes a great deal of pleasure in hurting and attacking Ethan as he runs from her. Additionally, everything she does to Ethan is against Mother Miranda’s request. While yes, it is retaliation after he killed Bela, the part I often see people leave out is that Alcina is equally as upset that he entered her property and was attempting to steal from her, and she isn’t just after him to kill him.

Alcina has also been an active participant in aiding Mother Miranda with at least one experiment, considering that I’d how she got her daughters. While I’m sure her strong admiration for Mother Miranda and Mother Miranda’s power over her has absolutely had an affect in this, that’s not something I’ll deny, Alcina is still a grown woman and in her written entries about this shows no qualms about her participation in this. Her general attitude towards others, using young women as a good source and turning men into scarecrows, also leads me to believe that she does not exactly care who gets hurt or taken advantage of when it comes to her and Mother Miranda’s personal endeavours.

Donna and Moreau are the two more sympathetic people within the four lords, but they are not innocent. To start with Moreau, he’s desperate for Mother Miranda’s approval, as well as the other lords. He’s insecure and lonely, and he’s doing what he has been instructed by Mother Miranda when it comes to protecting the flask. However, he does also take quite a bit of joy in trapping Ethan in the reservoir and swimming after him with the intention to eat and kill him. Moreau though, given his conditions and circumstances, is the one I think is the least to blame for what he does.

Donna is hard to discuss because we know so little about her. Her parents are dead, as well as whoever Claudia was to her, she communicates through Angie and she can cause those who enter her house to hallucinate. According to Mother Miranda, Donna is severely mentally ill and that is what has made her an unfit vessel. I think a lot of people took this to mean that Donna is unaware of what she is doing, that the hallucinations she is showing Ethan are frightening, but after having been a fan of this game for years I just can’t agree with that anymore. Donna intentionally lures Ethan into her house with visions of his supposedly dead wife. Donna is going after fears she likely knows Ethan has, making him relive Mia’s death, take apart a mannequin of her, listen to her voice panic over something being horribly wrong with Rose, all building towards the horrifying baby that chases him through the house. There is no way Donna doesn’t understand how what she is showing Ethan is distressing, especially when you consider that, given how she can make herself appear and disappear at will within Ethan’s vision and that Angie is sitting in the hallways stationary and unspeaking, Donna was likely close by Ethan at all times and could see and hear his frightened reactions to what she was intentionally showing him.

Donna’s death is upsetting, but Ethan was not just chasing her down and killing her. Donna was attacking him, or at least she was controlling her dolls to do so. It’s still a hallucination, but Ethan doesn’t know that. When faced with a threat that is keeping you trapped and trying to end your life, you will likely try to get away or try to fight back, as Donna is doing to Ethan after he starts to attack her and Ethan is doing to Donna when he thinks his life is still in danger. I would also like to remind everybody that Donna communicates through Angie. What Angie is saying, that’s Donna. Angie doesn’t talk or move once she’s dead, it is Donna who controls her.

Lastly, Heisenberg. I think Heisenberg is the one of the four most entrenched in headcanons. Headcanons are fine, I am never in this post trying to suggest they aren’t, but my issue comes in when people use them to try and change the canon of the game. For example, it’s fine to believe that Heisenberg was experimented on by Mother Miranda as a child, but that isn’t canon. It’s fine to believe that Heisenberg mourned the deaths of his siblings, but that isn’t canon. The opposite is, with Heisenberg not viewing the cult as an actual family and being very openly mean to all three other lords, even Donna and Moreau who seemingly haven’t done anything to slight him. While his goal of killing another Miranda is a very understandable and sympathetic one given what she has done to him, using a six month old baby as a weapon and trying to bring her father into the mix only to try to get him killed when he denies him is not. I cannot overstate quite how little Heisenberg actually cared for Ethan and Rose’s safety when it came to his goal, and given that we are playing as Ethan, Rose is the priority.

Heisenberg has built an army of corpses he has presumably stolen and desecrated. This is kind of fucked up actually, and done completely independently of Mother Miranda. He also puts Ethan through a very dangerous lycan gauntlet before he even reaches the factory, which makes it even stranger to me that people seem to interpret Heisenberg’s deal as something that would have benefitted both him and Ethan and as if he ever had Ethan’s safety in mind.

All four of the lords have tragic aspects to them and there are definitely reasons to sympathise with all four. They’re victims of Mother Miranda, who knows they will all be killed. She wants them to be, giving her less to deal with by the time she has Eva back. They never meant anything to her. Not Alcina or Moreau, who were desperate for her attention. Not Donna, suffering from her unspecified but apparently severe mental illness. Not Heisenberg, who was seemingly her favourite creation. However, all of them are grown adults who do their own bad things independently of her.

And it’s fine to still like them. It’s fine for them to be your favourite character. It’s fine to have happy or nice headcanons about them or want to kiss them or be their friend or to want them to have survived. It’s fine to like characters who do shitty things. It’s to be expected in a game series like Resident Evil. It’s a horror game series. People are going to do bad things.

I just find it so boring when people take away all their bite. What makes a character like Lady Dimitrescu so fun it’s that she’s completely over the top. She’s campy and ridiculous, her castle layout makes no sense, she’s got three kids made of swarms of flies dressed like a set of goth triplets, she’s a lesbian who’s castle is full of naked statues of women, she turns into a big dragon and laughs maniacally while flying around and trying to eat you. She’s evil and it’s fun. It’s the same with Heisenberg. He’s a campy show off with a fun voice and a massive hammer he never actually uses. He can control metal. He looks like a cowboy. He pronounced Miranda in a funny way. He talks to you over an intercom while trying to get you killed. They’re fun and evil and they fight over who gets to kill Ethan like they’re two little kids. It’s absurd.

What makes a character like Donna so scary is that she’s silently working in the shadows, unassuming at a first glance and unseen for most of the time in her house. She is the least threatening of the four upon first glance, and yet she has undeniably the most frightening part of the game. Pretending as if Donna is completely unaware of what she is doing and babying her like she is an incapable child waters her down completely and takes away from the effectiveness of her character.

Villain characters are great! They’re very often the highlight of the story they are in, and they aren’t real! The four lords especially are often so completely exaggerated in what they do as well. It’s fine to like villains! It doesn’t make you bad! Characters can be bad people and you can still like them!

It’s just frustrating seeing a group of very fun and exciting villains, all designed with different aspects of horror, all over the top and campy and stupid and fun, all doing their own set of fucked up things, watered down to a set of poor innocent victims who have never done any wrong ever. If you want Jack and Marguerite, take Jack and Marguerite. Lady Dimitrescu loves killing and eating women and Karl Heisenberg turns corpses into soldiers. They’re bad people and they do comically exaggerated bad things. If you can’t stomach liking a character like that, horror is probably not the genre for you. Unless it’s Resident Evil 7, I suppose, but apparently tall women aren’t hot when it’s Marguerite Baker crawling on the walls.

#I just wanted to ramble abouts the four lords they’re fun as villains and I’m really bored of how their edges keep getting rounded off #resident evil 8 #re8 #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #resident evil 7 #re7 #jack baker #marguerite baker #eveline baker

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take-it-on-the-run · 11 days ago

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Imagine: Wearing Baggy Clothes with Dean

Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 900

@ghostlyaccurate requested: Hii! Can i please request an established relationship Dean Winchester x fem! Or gn! Reader who always wear insanely baggy jeans and just some friendly banter like: Reader: *gets in the passenger seat of baby, holding the jeans up a bit like a dress* Dean: Reader: *looks confused at Dean* Dean: you gonna leave some jeans for the clowns in the circus? Reader: oh fuck off Winchester Dean: I'm just saying, you hold them like a princess dress Reader: how the fuck did you get me to fall for you? (Bonus: his reaction when he sees reader in a tight fitting dress/ silk, short ish nightgown, for the first time and he's just like :0)

A/N: Good God why didn't I write this sooner?? I'm a baggy pants girly myself and I was able to write this so easily. Gonna apologize to @ghostlyaccurate because I have been swamped in school work and just remembered my inbox was a thing. Thank you for requesting and giving me inspiration to write! I hope ya'll enjoy my first imagine!!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

You’d always stuck to baggier styles

It started with comfort, and then you realized that bigger pants lead to bigger pockets

Bigger pockets meant not having to run back to your car to get gear you couldn’t carry

You met Dean while Sam was at Stanford, and before him, you never thought much of your preference

Then, a few months on your ride across the nation to find John, you caught Dean looking at you with creased eyebrows and chuckling

��What?”

Your hands were balled up against your sides, raising the legs of your pants to let you step in the car without tripping

It came out harsher than you intended, but Dean didn’t mention it if he noticed

“You always ball up your jeans like some kinda princess whenever you get in the car. Might have to start callin’ you ‘princess’.”

You shot him a glare that you now know rivals one of his brother’s

Without you rebutting him, he poked at you again

“Gonna leave some jean for the rest of us? Might have to call Canada to warn them.”

You smacked him playfully, lips breaking into a smile

“Fuck off, man, do you know how much it sucks when you don’t have pockets for anything?”

Dean poorly blocked your hand, looking over at you silently as he revved the car

You relaxed into your seat at his silence

“Exactly.”

Looking back, you had no idea how you managed to fall for him

Then again, you felt similarly to his feelings for you

After the two of you found Sam, and then shortly after found, and lost, John, it was a quick spiral into solving whatever case the three of you could get your hands on

One of which included finding and destroying a hand of glory alongside your friend-not-quite-friend Bela Talbot

When Dean told you about the plan the first time, you weren’t thrilled that he said he needed you to work all together

You were even less thrilled when he unveiled that the hand was kept by some rich guy

Who was hosting a fancy ball

And that you still needed to come in

You didn’t mind formal events, occasionally enjoying getting dressed up made you feel good

But with Ms. Big Ben on your team ushering you to a room to get ready, you remembered the last time you were done up like this was at your senior prom

Where, if Carrie wasn’t already the prom scream queen, you’d have taken the crown

You went with some friends, but your parents only let you go if you brought some protection with you, and not the rubber kind

Growing up a hunter was tough enough for you, and you wanted to feel normal for just one night

So you left your gear in a bush outside the venue

Dumb idea

That night ended in a vampire’s head soaking you in blood, your poor date knocked to the ground, looking at you with horror

He skipped on the details but shared the part where you were covered in blood

You left school before the year ended and were able to get your diploma from home

Now, looking at yourself covered in more makeup than you normally wear and fabric clinging to parts of your body you were sure people forgot existed, you prayed the night didn’t repeat itself

At least this time your date would be impressed if you decapitated a monster

You willed yourself out of the room, following Bela down the stairs where Sam and Dean stood waiting in tuxes

Dean’s eyes scanned every dip and curve of your body, and you wanted to stick your finger in an electrical socket

Bela left for the car, Sam close behind, leaving Dean to stare at you alone

You waited for him to say something, a remark about looking done up for once, but he didn’t

Instead, his tongue darted onto his lips, leaving them parted as you stood still

Was he… gawking?

He’d told you that you were pretty countless of times, but this moment felt like something completely different

“You look… amazing.”

Before you could fathom to accept his complement, you let a wise crack out

“You’re saying I don’t normally?”

He laughed, shaking his head

“Never said that, sweetheart.”

Smart man

It was a small pause in your daily hunts, where you felt normal for a moment

When you were eventually covered in blood, dirt, and grime by the end of the job, Dean stood beside you in a similar state

He looked at you, eyes still holding the mystified look he gave when you first came down the stairs

No horror or disgust

And, the next day when you returned to your regular clothes, you noticed the way he looked at you held an awe-struck sense

Then again, you thought back to all the time you’d known him. Back in the car, when he was giving you shit, he looked at you with awe

If only you’d been able to see it earlier

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction

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elliots-an-idiot · 8 months ago

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Heloooooooo!🙌 How ya doing? I hope you’re having a *lovely* day! Seeing as you’re opening your inbox, I’m just gonna…leave this here ;)!

*leaves scroll*

What do you reckon the Dimis would think of forms of affection? Hand holding, kissing, cuddling, quality time, etc. do you think they’d approve of such displays in public, or just in the privacy of their room? A bit of good old fluff. Feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t take your pick!🙌

See ya :)!

🧁- anon

Hiii! This is an amazing ask :3 I love them so much and EAUGH I WANNA CUDDLE ALL OF THEM!!!! You said the dimis so I’m gonna include alcina :3 this is pure filthy fluff heheheheh :333

Content warning for minor (sfw) knife play. Also blood drinking…. They’re vampires.

The Dimitrescus preferences on affection with their s/o

Alcina 🍷

She enjoys being able to hold you, whether it’s on her lap while she works, or cuddled into her chest while you sleep.

Her hands are… well… gigantic. Which makes “regular” hand holding difficult. But she loves it when you intertwine your fingers with hers during particularly aggravating calls with Miranda.

She is, obviously, the big spoon. Which neither of you mind. She always holds you close to her while sleeping, she likes the feeling of protecting you. Shielding you from any dangers that may lurk outside of her arms.

She prefers to keep anything longer than a peck in private however. Unless of course, she’s showing someone that you’re hers. In which case you can expect to be lifted/pressed up against the nearest wall for her to make out with you.

She loves having her hair played with/her head scratched while laying with you, especially after a long/stressful day. She also likes having her back/shoulders massaged

She isn’t clingy like her daughters, but she loves being able to have you near her. When she’s working she likes to have you in her lap. You’re like a stress reliever to her.

She loves being able to lift and hug you, or lean down to press kisses to your head. She likes the way you look up at her after, it makes her feel like a goddess.

She loves it when you dance with her, you’ll often have dates in the castle, and her favourite place to bring you is always the opera hall. The two of you dance for hours, just basking in each others presence.

She always makes sure to reserve time in her day to be with you, no matter what. She even hung up on Miranda once after she “took too much of our time”

When she gets thirsty (not like that you horny bastard) she pulls you onto her lap and gently tilts your head to the side, she always peppers kisses down your throat before drinking from you.

She loves you so much, and makes sure you know that. Whether it be through words or actions, you always know how much you mean to her.

Some pet names she likes to use for you are dragâ (darling), iubire (love), little one, and pet.

Bela 📚

She, like her mother, loves having you with her while she works. She says your presence calms her during especially stressful days, your scent specifically helps.

She likes to have you on her lap, not during formal events or dinner of course. But when you’re reading together in the library she’ll pull you onto her and wrap her arms around you.

She loves it when you bury your head into the crook of her neck to press a gentle kiss to her throat, which normally leads to her squeaking and getting flustered. Only when you’re alone though, she thinks it’s “improper”.

She absolutely loves having her hair played with. Untangle her hair with your fingers? She’s a blushing mess.

She loves massages, getting them and giving them. You better believe homegirl is practically a professional at them.

She likes sitting next to you whenever possible, she always intertwines her fingers with yours. She loves being able to hold you, even if it’s subtle.

She has a busy schedule, to the point that she often forgets to eat. So when you walk into her office after a long day and offer up your neck? She practically melts, before hugging you tight and telling you how much you mean to her.

She normally hates giving you anything more than a gentle peck when in public, but please expect to be pushed up against the nearest surface as soon as you’re alone.

She loves it when you rest your head on her chest, or vice versa.

She’s bad with words, especially when you first start dating, but she always shows you how much she loves you. Her favourite way to do so is by taking care of you, bringing you a snack when she smells you getting hungry (blood sugar maybe?), or reading to you when you’re sad.

She loves calling you little one, darling, dragâ, and dove.

Cassandra ⚔️

Cassandra hates doing anything that could make her seem weak or soft in public. So hugs, hand holding, cuddling? Absolutely not.

She can and will push you up against the nearest wall to make out with you. She likes knowing that other people see, so that they know you belong to her.

But in private? You can’t convince me she wouldn’t love having her hair played with, and if you scratch her scalp? She will moan.

She’s not used to gentle displays of affection, especially at the beginning of your relationship. But after she warms up to it? She loves it, privately of course.

She especially enjoys having you sit in her lap while she’s sharpening her weapons. Often using your skin to test if they’re good enough, if she doesn’t smell blood as soon as she presses it up against you it’s not sharp enough.

She loves your blood, everything about it, so when she comes home from a particularly annoying hunt and finds you on her bed with your neck exposed for her? She growls before swarming right on top of you.

After drinking from you, she likes to lay on top of you and bury her face in your neck savouring your scent and taste.

Normally, if you’re alone, she likes to intertwine her fingers with yours or pull you onto her lap.

Shockingly, she’s incredibly clingy. Not so much as Dani, but still, very clingy. So if you’re especially busy or have to make a trip into town on any given day she’ll whine and complain until you get back.

She loves it when you trace her scars, she’ll often tell you the stories of how she “won” them to calm you down if you’re upset. She often tells you stories of her hunts, not only to introduce you to that part of her, but to analyse your expression for any hint of fear.

She often falls asleep on top of you, she likes how warm you are, and being able to protect you.

Cass is horrible with her words. Like. Horrible. Before you started dating she called you her blood bag… to flirt. She is b a d with expressing how much she loves you. So she shows you. She often kills maids who are rude to you and gifts you certain parts of them. After the fourth pair of eyes you had to explain to her organs weren’t exactly a gift you could keep. So she started bringing you teeth.

She likes calling you pet, little one, doll, morsel, snack,and (sigh) blood bag

Daniela 💌

She absolutely loves physical affection, and she truly doesn’t care what other people think. She constantly has to be touching you, or she will whine until she is.

Obviously, she’s the most clingy of her family, and the best cuddler. Like, are you sad? Bonk, Dani’s got ya.

You can’t convince me she wouldn’t love to sit in your lap to read, she loves it. She often reads aloud to you when you’re upset, and loves the same being done for her.

She loves it when you hold her, whether it be her hand, or her thigh, she constantly wants your hand on her.

She loves hugging you, like, absolutely loves it. She loves feeling your arms wrap around her and hold her to you, she says it makes her feel calm. I swear to the gods a hug from this girl could probably cure my depression.

She wants to spend as much time as physically possible with you every single day, which often leads to you not finishing your work.

When she’s particularly hungry, she loves pulling you against her before burying her head into the crook of your neck and inhaling as much of your scent as she can. She always marks you up before drinking from you, to show everyone you’re hers.

During the colder months, she enjoys nestling under a pile of blankets with you. Often giggling when you squeak at the feeling of her freezing hands against your sides.

She loves kissing you, it doesn’t matter to her who sees, all that she cares about if being able to feel your lips on hers.

She loves being treated like a princess, bow for her or twirl her? She is squealing and giggling in delight.

She loves spending time with you while reading, but, (when it’s warm enough out for her to go outside) she often drags you out to the garden to make flower crowns together.

She loves sleeping curled into you, with her arm flung around your waist and her head buried in your shoulder.

She like calling you more cheesy and romantic pet names, and expects the same from you. She calls you things like my love, dearest, sweetheart, little human, and her Knight. (If you call her princess she will melt)

That’s all! I hope you like this :3 thank you for my first ever ask :3

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #🧁 anon

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charlessmiths-wife · 4 months ago

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here - have some hcs about how the RE8 women would help you when you’re feeling a bit down! Bc we all know stress would be a lot easier to handle with some of our fave evil women by our side <3 ❤️💕💗💓

RE8 WOMEN COMFORTING YOU WHEN STRESSED/UPSET

ALCINA

-> In my mind Alcina sort of freaks out the first time she sees you get really stressed

-> she’s not been comforted much herself in her life, so she’s not entirely sure how to do it.

-> at first, she’s a tad maternal about the whole thing. she’s accustomed to comforting her daughters, however - she soon learns there’s a difference between the comfort of a mother and the comfort of a partner

-> and so with time, I reckon Alcina shifts and grows into an excellent partner to have around in instances of stress. she’s calm, she’s cool and collected. she’ll reason with you and rationally talk you down from your stress - before doing something with you to take your mind off it. maybe going for a walk or taking you on a date.

-> either way, your stress always dissipates with Alcina’s help.

BELA

-> Ugh. She can relate.

-> Bela is a stressed girlie herself, it’s something she’s accustomed to - therefore it’s something she’s used to dealing with.

-> She’d be very helpful. She’d talk it through with you, I reckon Bela is a great listener - and she’d hold you close whilst letting you talk about it for as long as you need.

-> picture this, your head on Bela’s chest, her fingers slowly stroking and combing through your hair whilst you tell her about all your worries, and she softly hums and nods along. being there for you every step of the way. who wouldn’t feel better?

CASSANDRA

-> lmao

-> Cassandra is the love of my life, so I can confidently admit that for a while babygirl would have NO IDEA what she’s doing

-> I think Cassandra is a very rational woman, and so seeing you upset immediately makes her think there’s some sort of immediate threat that needs sorting out.

-> so her initial reaction might be more… panicked than the calm and cool response you might see from the rest of her family members

-> however once you assure her you’re in no harm or danger, she’ll calm down, and then she can get to comforting you.

-> because she’s so rational, Cassie is EXCELLENT at providing advice for your situation.

-> she’ll sort whatever’s upsetting you out instantly. she’s just that good.

-> and, of course, she’ll do her best to comfort you along the way. Pressing a kiss to your forehead and reminding you how proud she is of you. I’m in love.

DANIELA

-> babygirl is like a KOALA BEAR

-> when Dani can tell your stressed/generally upset, she’ll cling to you. cuddling up with you as much as she can and not letting you go.

-> “oh my poor baby! come here, lie down with me.”

-> she’ll pepper your face with kisses. all whilst letting you complain all you need about whatever’s getting you down.

-> she’ll also join in on the complaining. which is just… so funny?

-> “ugh, I’m sorry about your boss my love…. she sounds like a total jerk!” “… you don’t know her, Dani.” “Still!”

-> it’s just very loving from her. as she is with everything. she’ll hold your hand and kiss you softly and tell you how loved you are, and remind you that you’ll always have her.

DONNA

-> the first time she sees you stressed or upset - DONNA. FREAKS. OUT.

-> somehow even more than Cassandra and Alcina combined.

-> however, as time passes and you guys get to know each other more and more… Donna becomes amazing?

-> she can instantly tell when somethings getting you down. and from there she acts as a silent but strong presence. she’ll guide you through whatever’s getting you down.

-> her go to plan is to run the pair of you a bath, and then cook you dinner. I head cannon Donna is an EXCELLENT cook and she knows how to cook up a comforting and hearty dish that’ll make you feel just better.

-> she’s very good at dealing with the emotional aspect of it all. she might not always know exactly what advice to give, but she is an EXCELLENT listener and she’ll always do her absolute best to calm you down. rubbing your back and holding you close, wiping your tears if needs be.

-> (can you tell im a massive Donna girlie?)

MIRANDA

-> surprisingly, she’s excellent.

-> Miranda’s well accustomed, in my mind, to dealing with you being upset/stressed about a situation.

-> she knows if you need comforting or advice.

-> if it’s comforting you need, she’ll pull out all the stops. running you a bath, rubbing your back, letting you talk it out.

-> if it’s advice you need, Miranda is excellent. she’ll help you sort your situation out as quick as possible.

-> no matter what, she’ll brew you a cup of tea and remind you not to let things get you down. she reminds you of the importance of only concerning yourself with what you can control.

-> she’ll tell you how well you’re doing, and how loved you are. kissing you softly and resting your forehead against hers. she makes the world calm down for you.

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muffinsin · 1 month ago

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JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING AN I IMMEDIATELY HAD TO ASK, imagine reader being in Ethan's position kind of and having to escape the dimitrescu castle, and when the sisters try to capture them the reader bites the sisters , I just thought it was funny because imagine the tables getting switched and biting a vampire back, reader not putting up with it and is just like "now I'm gonna bite you back" 😭

-mountain anon ⛰️

Haha, I love this one XD poor bugs just..malfunction. Give them 1-3 business days to recover😬!

Turning this into a meme reaction HC post again

Slightly earlier post!👀

Masterlists

Bela

As you run, you notice Bela closing in on you rapidly

The castle’s size and complexity proves to be to your disadvantage, while it plays perfectly into her cards

New halls and rooms pop up suddenly, shortcuts which she abuses to catch up to you easily, even when you desperately shoot at every window you find

Again, she’s catching up to you

You’re sure the exit is close, but she’s simply too fast, keeps catching you off guard and circling around you using the confusing layout of the place

She somehow always finds her way to the front, ready to cut you off as though she’s trying to lure you somewhere

To your death, you’re sure

You almost make it to the door when, suddenly, she pops up from a side hallway again and you practically run into her, instead

You gasp, and she laughs sadistically

You barely manage to fight her off when she leans in for your neck, her sharp teeth bared

In the last moment you manage to push her back, though find yourself shoved against the nearest wall still

And the blonde vampire-like woman?

She’s back on you in an instant, her teeth on display again

She’s leaning back, ready to push her head forward and dig the sharp, dagger-sharp, teeth into your neck

Then, you notice the position has her neck bared for you, instead

You act fast, leaning forwards instead of trying to run

It’s a little difficult with the choker in the way, but you manage nonetheless

Your teeth make contact with her neck, biting down hard instead

You hear a cut off gasp, and a sickle dropping to the floor in surprise. She’s shivering, you notice, and feel her hardened nipples poke through the fabric of her dress and against your chest

When you pull away, you find her golden eyes wide, her mouth opening and closing every few seconds

She scowls, then, as though reminding herself of her task, and you act fast yet again

Another gasp is heard when you grab the back of her neck and pull her to you, your teeth digging in yet again

Despite her strength, her neck is petite, her skin sensitive

You’re bold enough to tighten your hold on her, keeping her sensitive neck right in place for you

Then, it’s your turn to gasp

She dissolves into what must be hundreds of flies, buzzing wildly

She doesn’t attack, though, as you’d expect

Instead…she’s fleeing?

You giggle to yourself as the swarm rounds a corner and the noises slowly quieten down

Cassandra

You don’t know for how long she’s been chasing you already

Chase, yes

She doesn’t catch you, not yet

She’s playing with you, you’re sure of it

For each time she catches up, she swings and just barely catches your arm with her sharp blade, then allows you to run along

You’ve made it into the castle, now desperately need to escape

Alas, the woman isn’t giving up

You’re her prey, and she won’t let you get out

She’s back on you, chasing after you quickly

Thankfully, it seems speed isn’t her speciality. Judged by how she easily bruised your arm with a single tug, though, you’re sure strength is

Still, she’s fast, knocking all your obstacles to the side easily as she chases you

You see your opportunity already- the courtyard

While you know it isn’t a way out, the cold from outside should buy you some time

After all, if she is to catch up with you, she’ll have to go all the way around

You rush towards the wide doors, your hand nearly grazing the knob already…

Then, you’re tugged back, your entire body jerking and curling up to save yourself some pain when you’re shoved to the floor

She’s on you in an instant, laughing sadistically and licking the air between you playfully

“I can smell your fear!”, she says, laughing as though in enjoyment

She inhales sharply, as though to add to her point

As she laughs and smiles widely again, you see the sharp teeth almost shine

Your entire body aches from the pain, but you know exactly what’s coming next still

Instead, you decide to surprise her

Leaning up, you grab onto the back of her head, grabbing a fist full of dark hair and tugging her down

She shrieks, then gasps when you sink your teeth into her neck, instead

While you can’t see it, Cassandra’s face heats up hot red, her cheeks and neck entirely pink and contrasting her normally so pale skin

You bite hard, even more so when you hear her sickle drop next to you

She’s tense, but you feel no pain coming your way

Then, when you let go and immediately bite back down, you hear it

A moan, breathy and low, from the woman hovering over you

You raise an eyebrow, drawing more moans from the woman the more and harder you bite

You notice her thighs clench at your sides, as if with the desire to push together

She’s warmer, breathier, almost needy, it seems

When you pull away you tug her hair back gently, making her face you

Only is her face completely flushed, warm and pink, blood and drool sticking to her lips

Her golden eyes are wide and dark

You gulp

Daniela

This one’s fast, chasing after you with sweet words falling from her lips

She coos and giggles, hums and taunts you

She’s fast, likes to surprise you

She doesn’t kill you, though

No, she’s playing with you

Often, you feel her hands sliding against your arms, touching, groping, feeling the skin and muscles through your torn clothing

Sometimes, her sickle digs in, which has you scream and stumble faster than before

And still, she has no trouble catching up

Only when you shoot the windows does she back off, smart to stay behind

You don’t bother going after her. You just want out

When the cool air backs her into a corner, you run fast, hoping to outrun her at last

As you run, you see the exit already, the courtyard the only thing in your path

You hope she won’t dare follow you there, but are quickly proven wrong

Already in the doorway you feel her against you again, shoving you forwards hard enough to have you drop your gun

She’s on you in an instant, pinning you down on the cool, marble floor

“I found youu~”, she draws out, her voice light and teasing

You flinch back when she bites the air just above your face, giggling to herself

“We’ll have so much fun, my love!”, she hums, as though lost in her own little world

She leans down to you and you suddenly feel her cool breath against your neck

You’re shivering, then gasp at the feeling of her sharp teeth dragging against your skin

Her intention is clear, yet you’re determined to take her by surprise

Just when she leans in again you take advantage of the proximity

She squeaks when you lean up and bite at her neck, sinking your teeth in sharply

“Ah! Lo-ove!”, she whimpers

From the corner of your eye you see her arms tremble, then feel her collapse on you, shivering and moaning on top of you

You realize, the woman’s neck must be one of the more sensitive parts of her, and in her delusion she doesn’t at all suspect you might have bad intentions

You know, to escape you ought to use her delusion and the cold environment to your advantage and drive something sharp into her neck

Alas…you feel pity

Instead of pain, you give her pleasure, biting and sucking, even placing a small kiss to her neck when you’re done

When you face her again, her face is flushed and pink, and her eyes are wide

You have no time to react when she grips you by the shirt, giggling as she drags you with her happily

“We’ll be together forever!”

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #mountain anon 🏔️

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0blobthefish0 · 9 months ago

Text

Partygirl

leighton murray masterlist | main masterlist

Part 2

Leighton Murray x Female Reader 2,204 words

You take biochem with Bela and Whitney and you're never usually one to party, so when Bela finally convinces you, you find yourself letting go. Leighton can't help but keep an eye on you.

You let out another sigh as you fall onto your back in the middle of your friends' common room.

"We're gonna fail," you mumble, covering your face with your hands and slowly dragging them down before letting them slump against the floor with a thump.

"Stop, don't say that," Bela quickly scolds and you can't help but frown in defeat. You feel a gentle pat on your knee and groan. Biochem was going to be the death of you. "See? The thing just goes in this thing and that other.. thing comes out?" A half-suppressed - but lighthearted - laugh shot out of you and, in return, you felt a slap to your knee.

"Ow-uh," you pouted at Bela as you sat up to which she scrunched up her face and mocked you like a child. Your mouth fell agape at the sheer audacity of your friend and you felt for a pillow from behind you.

"Are you guys still studying for the exam?" You hear Whitney question and you begrudgingly release your hold on the pillow.

"Sadly," you and Bela reply in unison - which brings a grin to your faces.

"Ugh- it's no use though, I need to let off some steam." Silence fell of the room for a brief moment and then Bela turned to you with a glint in her eyes.

"I know what could help..." she smirked, but you were already shaking your head. You knew what she was going to say. She had brought it up so many times and each time you said the same thing.

"No, absolutely not," you waved her off as she began to creep closer.

"Oh come onnnnn," she whined her hands gripping onto your upper arm, "pleaseeeee? Just this once."

"I've been before, they're not that good," you replied and you felt Whitney sidle in next to you.

"But," she lightly paused, "have you been to one with us?" She combated with a sly smile. You shook your head in defeat.

"So you're going?" Bela asked loudly, causing Kimberly to emerge from her room.

"Yess.."

"Yes!"

---

The four girls, Kimberly, Bela, Whitney and Leighton, stood in the middle of their common room - all dressed in accordance for the evening - and four shot glasses stood lined on the coffee table. A knock sounded and the four girls turned their heads toward the door, Bela ran over, her heels clacking against the floor.

"Quick!," she waved to one of the others, "pour a shot."

Leighton stood, brows furrowed as Kimberly quickly rushed to pour a shot, unaware of the incoming visitor. "Who's here?"

"Y/n!"

"Y/n? As in biochem Y/n?" Her question was answered as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Ayy! You actually came," Bela shouted and wrapped you in her arms. Leighton took a few moments to blink back her shock.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna leave you hanging," you smiled shyly and looked up, your eyes locking onto Leighton's, just for a brief nanosecond but you felt as if you had been winded, before engaging with the others. As soon as you let go of Bela, Kimberly passed you a glass.

"We only have four, so it looks like you'll be taking the first one," Bela cheekily grinned. She watched as you wavered slightly. "I'll help you," she whispered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips so she touched the bottom of the glass and pushed slightly over time as you guided it to your lips and threw back the first shot of the night. The girls erupted into cheer and your cheeks warmed as the liquor burned its way down your throat.

Leighton watched you intently as you were pulled into the middle of the room, the movement causing the skirt of your dress to ride and your hands quickly pulled the material down. You picked up the bottle and placed your shot glass down before pouring the liquor.

Once again, four shot glasses lined the table, only this time they were full. The four girls reached for their respective glasses and you swallowed a gasp as Leighton grabbed the glass you had just drank from. It was stupid, really; getting butterflies over sharing the same glass, but you couldn't help it. Your small crush on the blonde was sometimes all-consuming and it needed to end, for your own sake. Leighton would most likely find a one night stand tonight and you ultimately concluded that you would do the same.

"Okay, one," Bela began, "two," she pointed at the bottle in your hand and gestured for you to take a swig, "three!" Your lips met the lip of the bottle and you let the cold liquid fall into your mouth.

The four girls felt the instant rush of the first taste of alcohol and the excitement of what the evening could hold was nearly suffocating. However, Leighton couldn't help but look at you; she's never seen you like this, so eager to get drunk, and she can't tell if she should be worried or not. She shook the feeling off, you were your own person. If you wanted to get black-out drunk, then so be it.

---

Loud music boomed through your very soul. Your brain felt as if it were vibrating in your own skull and your heart felt too big for your chest. But you found that you didn't mind. Bodies pushed up against you, the crowd moving as a collective body, swaying and jumping in time to the beat of the music.

You're the most drunk you've ever been, you're sure of it, and you find yourself being glad that it was the weekend. You feel so light and you throw your head back as you take another shot. The room starts to spin as you push a cup to your lips and you do your best to ignore it, just closing your eyes and giving in to the music, giving in to the feeling. There's a pair of hands on your hips, you aren't sure how long they've been there, but they grip onto you and you'll probably find finger-shaped bruises the next morning.

Leighton nurses on her red solo cup as she eyes you in the crowd. She's staring daggers at the boy behind you - the one with his hands on you - and she feels her jaw clench involuntarily. She can't help it. And she swallows painfully when she watches you lean back into him, your eyes fluttering closed. You're drunk. So drunk she's surprised you haven't toppled over yet.

Then his hands begin to roam.

At first dragging up towards your waist and pinching at your skin. He's so rough. Leighton can't help but point that out. His hands move back down toward the hem of your short skirt and push the fabric up, his hands resting on the skin of your thighs. There's a sharp tingling feeling in her fingertips and a lump begins to form in her throat and, before she knows it, she's pushing through the crowd to get to you.

"Okay that's- that's enough of that." She spits out at the boy as pushes a hand between the two of your bodies. She knows him, one of her brother's friends. And she feels sick to her stomach as you slump so easily into her side as she guides you away with a hand on your shoulder.

You stagger on your own feet as you cling onto Leighton's arm.

"Where're we goin'?" You mumble.

"Back to mine, I'm sure your roommate wouldn't be too happy if you came home now," Leighton explained as she unscrewed the lid to a bottle of water and pushed it toward you.

"You taking me home?" You smirk, taking the bottle, and she can hear the innuendo in your voice, causing her heart rate to pick up ever so slightly. She shakes her head with a smile on her face as she heads in the direction of her dorm.

You're uncharacteristically flirty. Something she wasn't prepared for by the way her stomach does flips and the grin on her face. It's cute. Seeing you like this. But she can't really understand you as she opens the door. You're babbling - something about your dress and the floor and her bed. She's glad you're as drunk as you are, otherwise you would have taken note of the deep blush covering the blonde's cheeks and the way goosebumps litter up her arms.

"Yknow?" You pause as you use her to keep your balance to slip off your heels - her hand finding your waist as yours rests on her shoulder so that you can stand on one leg.

"Know what?" Leighton questions softly, following you, as you pad over to her room and climb on top of her bed. You sit on your knees and reach out for her. You've misjudged the distance by quite a few centimetres and slip so fast Leighton feels her heart jump out of her throat as she catches your fall and pushes you back up. She lets out a nervous laugh as she stabilises you and your hands move to cup her face as you stare down at her.

"You're so pretty, you know that, right?" You smile softly as you search her eyes and she doesn't know what to say. "Your eyes and your face and your hair and your nose and your lips," you whisper as she sees your eyes flicker to her lips and she absentmindedly pushes her tongue out to wet them slightly.

You're drunk - she tells herself. You'd never say this if you weren't. Maybe you'd never even think it if you weren't. Your hands glide over her shoulders and then down her arms before grabbing onto her wrists. Leighton swallows a gasp as goosebumps rise in wake of your movements. She doesn't know what to do. Of course she's dealt with drunk people before and of course she's dealt with liking friends before. But it's you and this time liking a friend could actually amount to something. It didn't have to be some silly little fantasy, it could be something real.

No, she couldn't do that to herself. Not when you're currently pulling her into her own bed, which you are in. You not liking her in the way that she wants would be different; different because you're the first friend that she's liked who actually likes girls. You not liking her would be so much more personal.

"Where're you going?" You question her with furrowed brows as she tucks you into her bed.

"The couch," she mumbles in reply and you frown ever so slightly as you search her eyes.

"Aren't you staying?" You're so tired that words are hard to form and Leighton pauses as she racks her brain for an answer. For some reason there's a sharp pang in your heart and you lightly clear your throat before moving the duvet off of you. You go to say that you'll go sleep on the couch, but nothing leaves your mouth. Instead, Leighton pulls the duvet back over you and bids you goodnight.

"Leight.." you whisper just before she gets to the door and you stare at her for a moment, your pupils wide from the alcohol and your gaze hazy. "Please stay with me?"

Leighton tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, but she's recently found that she can't say no to you.

"Okay," she whispers back and you quickly move to give her more room as she steps forward. She climbs into bed and you unashamedly make yourself comfortable - tugging the duvet over her as you snuggle into her side. It's a small bed, of course the two of you were going to be close, but you were practically holding her and your head rested on her chest. Her heart was pounding, so hard she could hear it in her own ears, and she hoped that you were still too drunk to notice.

You could hear it, of course you could, but, little does she know, it's the sound that you're falling asleep to.

Leighton lets out a light yawn, she hadn't realised how tired she was until she got into bed and before she knew it she found herself closing her eyes and falling asleep.

---

Bela, Whitney and Kimberly fall into the dorm after struggling to open the door and push their uncomfortable shoes off as soon as possible. Whitney stops dead in her tracks when her eyes land on a mystery fourth pair of shoes. She points a finger at them and turns a head to her friends.

"Are those Y/n's?" Kimberly whispers, though not very well. Whitney's pointed finger moves up from your shoes to the closed bedroom door.

Bela's eyes go wide and she slaps Whitney's hand down before tiptoeing over to her shared room with Leighton. The two other girls followed closely behind. She pushes the door open and takes a few steps in. Wide grins fall onto all of their faces as they take in the sight.

Your head is still on Leighton's chest, but now her arms wrap around you protectively in your sleep.

"This is the cutest thing ever-"

"They didn't sleep together?"

#female reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #wlw #fluff #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #Blob's fics

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bettyfrommars · 8 months ago

Text

Death Becomes Us

Part 10: The Man Who Made a Monster

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Fem!Reader

masterlist playlist

WC: 7.6k

18+ONLY, MDNI, mention of wounds, car accidents, a bit of body horror, angst, guns, gunshot wounds, reader gets physically hurt (but bounces right back), blood, drinking blood, allusions to smut, evil men, supernatural powers, a demobat fren, fear of the unknown, a fire, werewolf!Steve, Dr. Brenner. References to one of my favorite 80's shows, the Incredible Hulk with Lou Ferrigno, and mid-90's MTV. Tiny references to FOI that you won't even notice if you haven't read the book.

Summary: Eddie, Jareth, and Steve come to your rescue, but do you even need to be rescued? Bad men surface and reader finds strength she never knew she had. Eddie confesses more than one secret to us, and the tension is thick. Reader is called Dove as a nickname.

Author's Note: I covered quite a few bases in this chapter, but there is still a lot to explore in the next and final part. We get to see reader in action and get some much-deserved satisfaction. I 've been staring at it for so long, I really hope you have fun reading this, love you. As always, Jareth's face claim is Jamie Campbell Bower.

-----

this starts right where Part 9 left off

Eddie snatched his keys and shoved Steve out the door before he quickly put some food down for Dio and locked the dead bolt.

Steve called shotgun in the air, vaulting over the hood like an extra from the movie Grease, making Jareth roll his eyes. “Is he part werewolf or labrador?” Whispering under his breath to Eddie, but Eddie just nudged him out of the way.

Jareth paused on the opposite side of the Pontiac GTO. “We should go on foot, it would be faster,” hinting to the lightning-speed with which vampires moved.

Eddie inclined his head to Steve. “Not when we’ve got the pup with us.”

“Fuck you,” Steve sneered, brushing back a flop of hair from his forehead. “I can keep up with you two geezers, trust me.”

“What if I just kill him and rid us of the dead weight,” Jareth grumbled.

“You can try,” Steve bit, growling deep in his chest.

“Enough!” Eddie snapped, swatting the top of the car with his hand. “Everyone get in and hold the fuck on. We’re goin’ for a ride.”

—----

Heat scorched through your veins like lava, and as your eyes fluttered open, you passively wondered if the car was on fire, and you were about to be cooked alive.

But

You were no longer in the vehicle. Squeezing your eyelids tight to find the memory, recollection came flooding back as your fingers curled into dirt, cheek pressed into the forest foliage. There might have even been a pinecone acting as a pillow at your ear.

The muscles in your arms and shoulders throbbed, not to mention the feeling of your skull being cracked open by a catastrophic neurological event. A migraine to rival all migraines.

You remembered being taken…the conversation about Brenner…and Bela…

Bela!

You called her name, but it came out as nothing but a puff of air, a whine deep in your chest.

What if she got hurt in the crash? What if she —

The crash!

Adrenaline flushed through you like a swarm of bees and you sat up, cracking your stiff neck as you went, and your head swam.

Where the fuck were you?

A car passed a few yards away on the highway and you realized you’d been tossed into a ravine. In the distance, the SUV you’d been kidnapped in was on its back and smoking as if something inside had caught fire. Where was that awful witch and the man who was driving?

A memory of ripping the door off by its hinges and climbing out of the vehicle flashed behind your eyes, but that was impossible. You must’ve been able to jump out and then hit your head or something. You weren’t turning green and ripping out of your clothes; you were no Lou Ferrigno.

You moved your legs to make sure they worked, and soon you were on your feet, using tufts of grass to crawl along as if you were about to fall off the earth.

In the distance, thunder rolled.

—----

“Turn here, take the shortcut!” Steve shot his hairy arm between the two seats, pointing to right after the stop sign.

“I know what I’m doing!” Eddie roared. “Just sit the fuck back and stay cool.”

Eddie could feel you, and his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

He floored the gas, tires squealing as they ghosted the road, peeling down the old highway through the woods that barely anyone used anymore. The velocity shot Steve back against his seat, and Jareth’s fingers dug into the console while music from Sisters of Mercy blared from the stereo.

“We’re close,” Eddie lowered his chin, laser focused on the scene ahead of him. He could feel that familiar static fill his body whenever he was in your vicinity.

You were not the first human whose blood he’d tasted, not by a long shot. In fact, for the first few years after he’d been made vampire, he didn’t care about himself or anyone else, and it seemed there wasn’t a willing human in a 100 mile radius that he hadn’t tasted.

But with you, it wasn’t even about your blood.

You made him feel a certain type of way that he’d been missing for over a decade, perhaps even his whole life.

The clouds trembled, and a crackle of lightning shot a silent burst of light through the midnight sky. All three of them could smell the wreck before it was ever in view, and Eddie released his foot on the gas to slow down a bit.

—---

You stumbled onto the main highway, and the headlights came at you too fast to understand what was happening.

Everything was so bright, it hurt your eyes. It made you swipe your hands in the air and groan, fighting the illumination as if it were a tangible enemy.

The car coming at you screeched on its brakes, twisting to the side so that it wouldn’t hit you, skidding sideways.

In a blink, you recognized the stunned faces on the other side of the windshield.

—---

The other two men in the car didn’t see that it was you at first—but Eddie knew. He’d witnessed those shock white eyes before, void of color or pupil.

Electricity snapped off you, as if you were a live wire. It crackled and skipped off of your skin like the lightning that appeared above them in the sky.

One of your arms was twisted unnaturally backwards at the elbow, but you somehow flexed the joint back into place as you stood there, correcting your posture. You stood on one side of your foot as if your ankle was broken, but then that righted itself with a sickening twist. Your limbs jerked like the walking dead trying to move for the first time after reanimation. All of this, and yet your face appeared unphased, as if you were impervious to the pain.

Your face was set in surprise and fear and confusion, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest to be able to hold you.

With a curse, he slammed the GTO to a halt, tires burning rubber as they locked and skidded on the asphalt.

Something told him you were fairly invincible, just like him, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Steve slid across the backseat, knocking his head on impact, and Jareth’s fingers dug so deep into the console that they left puncture marks.

Eddie didn’t have time to think about what the other two were doing or the danger of leaving his car in the middle of the highway, he threw the gear into park and jumped out to check on you.

From above, there came a loud squawking, and Bela soared down from where she’d been circling in the sky to land on your shoulder with a weight that almost made you lose your balance.

—-----

Bela bared her teeth and screeched at whoever was approaching from the vehicle. The headlights were too bright, and your ear canals were on fire with hot noise. A loud, shrill ringing filled your skull cavity like sharp a million tiny pinpricks.

But then you recognized his silhouette

You’d know it anywhere

“Eddie?”

“It’s me,” he assured you. “Are you hurt?”

Bela settled once she knew it was him, lowering her wings, and his body came to block the light so that you could see the distress in his face. He reached a hand out to touch your arm, but then he yanked it back with a hiss. It was like you’d given him an electrical shock, with volts like those from a cattle prod or taser.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” you hesitated, hoping he’d dare to touch you again.

And he did, rushing closer without pause, not caring about how bad the last one stung. He cupped one hand at your jaw while the other went to your hip, searching your mouth for temptation's sake. “Let’s get you home.”

He got zapped a few more times from seemingly stray sparks, in the chest and the side, making him wince, but he did not relent. It was a good thing the violent stabbing did not force him back, because just then your knees gave out and you slumped into his arms. Bela took to the sky again before landing on the hood of the GTO with another high pitched wail, wings spanning out as if she were about to conduct an orchestra.

Eddie dropped to his knees on the ground next to you, careful to protect your head from the pavement with his hand. In wolf form, Steve trotted over to nudge your face with his snout and lick your cheek with a whimper.

“She’ll be okay,” Eddie took his jacket off and made it into a pillow for you, before angling to sink his fangs into his own wrist. “She needs blood.”

“Use mine,” Jareth hovered nearby, and you could vaguely hear them arguing as your adrenaline crashed. “I’m older, my blood is stronger.”

“No,” Eddie growled, and then the two bared their teeth at each other.

Eddie knew that, more than anything, Jareth wanted to be in your head, to be linked to you in the same way he was. To know where you were at all times and for you to have…those special dreams about him. No way in hell would Eddie let that happen.

He’d already punctured a vein and had his tattooed wrist over your mouth, leaking his life force into your trembling lips until you were able to latch on and suck.

Jareth’s stare bore into Eddie. “Maybe I should tell her you’re the reason Brenner knew about her in the first place.”

Eddie glared at him. “You don’t know fuck about it.”

Jareth smirked. “I know more than you think about the little ‘job’ you were hired to do for him.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and he shushed him. “This isn’t the place for this, Jareth.”

A car had to navigate around the GTO to continue down the old highway, and the person shouted their disapproval, but then the driver slowed once he spotted you on the ground and the SUV that was rolled over on its side in the distance.

Jareth and Eddie turned to him and hissed with their fangs out, glaring at him with obsidian eyes, until he slammed on the gas and sped off in the direction he was headed. Steve growled and chased after the car, keeping up with it for a while before hanging back to sniff around the wreckage that you’d managed to somehow survive.

You mumbled, gurgling on a spurt of blood, and Eddie took his wrist away. Your eyes were closed, but your tongue flicked out to lick more of his essence from your stained lips. Were you conscious enough to know what they were talking about? He’d planned on telling you everything, but the time was never right. He never expected things to get so…messy. Never expected you’d become so…special to him.

Some rich dude offers you to keep an eye on someone for a couple weeks for an abnormally huge chunk of cash, you do it. He’d had no skin in the game when he initially accepted the offer.

Caring about you as much as he did was the last fucking thing he’d expected to happen, but he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Jareth leaned over you to get closer to Eddie. “If you don’t tell her soon, I will, and your little fairytale will be over.”

All Eddie could do was grind his teeth: Jareth was right, he should’ve explained the whole thing to you that night when he’d waited for you to get back from your date with Steve. But by then, he was afraid he’d lose you.

Yet, how could you lose someone you never had?

“We need to get out of here,” Eddie eased you into a sitting position, your head flopped, and then held your chin in his hand. Your eyelids were fluttering and your skin was beginning to cool as the healing properties of his blood took effect.

God, how badly he wanted to press his lips to yours.

“What about the witch?” Jareth stood to full height to look over and see Steve sniffing around the crash. “What if they survived?”

Eddie had you off your feet and lifted in his arms by then, but Jareth was right. As much as he wanted to get you far away from there, he’d watched enough horror movies to know that you never turned your back on a killer until you knew they were dead. Knocking them unconscious with the back of a shovel wasn’t enough; you had to chop their whole head off and throw them in a cement mixer.

Steve morphed back into human form halfway back to the group, butt naked again, to report back on what he’d found.

Eddie waited for him to announce that there was no one in the vehicle and the bodies were gone…

But instead, Steve shook his head. “Looks like they didn’t survive. His neck is broken and she’s—-”

“Are you sure?” Jareth blurted with an air of irritation. “Maybe I should check for myself.”

“I think I know what a dead body smells like, asshole,” Steve grunted, pushing back on Jareth’s chest.

The headlights of another car was approaching, and Eddie reiterated that they needed to get as far away as possible from the scene of the crime. He threw the keys to Jareth, and made Steve sit in front so that he could crawl into the back with you while you healed. Bela billowed into the sky and hovered there, waiting to see where they were taking you so she could follow.

It wasn’t his blood that healed your broken foot or your fractured arm though—you’d done that all by yourself. Maybe you didn’t need him after all, maybe you’d be better off without him.

“Put your pants back on,” Eddie tossed the clothing from the back seat over to Steve. “I don’t need you teabagging the upholstery.”

Next to him, you had your head on Eddie’s shoulder and your hand on his thigh when Jareth sped off just in time to miss being clipped by the oncoming semi truck. It blared its horn just as you lifted your head to look up at Eddie with groggy eyes.

He licked his lips, feeling his throat close up at how near your face was to his.

“Did you save me?” Your voice was strained, sounding like your esophagus was constricted.

Eddie put his hand over yours and you interlaced fingers. “I think you saved yourself,” he mumbled. “You don’t need me.”

“I do,” you said it so fast, and he leaned over even more, thinking maybe he hadn’t heard you correctly. “I do need you.”

Your hand in his, he brought it up to his chest, searching your eyes as an avalanche of words trembled at the tip of his tongue, right there wanting to roll out like a carpet of devotion to you.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves because he was shaking so fucking bad.

Jareth caught his eye in the rearview mirror and the two glared at each other before Eddie broke contact and wrapped another arm around your shoulders to bring you closer. “We’re almost home,” he hushed, planting his lips to your forehead, blushing at the way you refused to let go of his hand. “I won’t leave you.”

—----

By the time you got back to the trailer park, your energy and strength had been fortified and you urged everyone to go home to let you get some rest, except for Eddie, who’s hand you were still holding as you got out of the car.

The witch and her companion being dead felt too good to be true, and a measure of palpable dread hung in the air. It was unspoken knowledge that Brenner was still after you, and he knew exactly where you lived.

Jareth stepped forward, tipping your chin up with the crook of his finger. “Are you sure you don’t need anything, love?”

“She has me,” Eddie growled.

Jareth fluttered his eyelids in that bored way he’d mastered. “If you’re so concerned, we’d be better off at Sacrament. I can keep her safe there more sufficiently than she’d be in this…” he fanned his hand around a few times, “...this place.”

Bela landed on the railing with a swoosh and squawked.

“I hate to say it, after everything,” you angled toward the steps, exhausted. “But I don’t think this Brenner person is going to stop until he gets what he wants.” You glanced sideways at Eddie. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

“I’d like to meet this guy myself,” Steve said through gritted teeth.

Jareth flipped the collar of his coat up and ran a hand through his golden hair. “Well, my offer stands. Sacrament is at your service if you should require shelter or protection.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie said dismissively, reaching for the railing to cage you away from the two men. “We’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Jareth,” you told him, and he winked at you, returning the genuine curve of your smile.

And Eddie hated it so much, he wouldn't have been surprised if steam were coming out of his ears like a cartoon villain.

But he let it slide because Jareth could make things fucking awkward in that moment if he wanted to.

You turned to Steve. “Would you like to come in? I don’t have much by way of food, but—”

“He’s fine,” Eddie answered for him.

The two glared at each other for a beat, but then Steve relented. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry. Still, I think I’ll stick around for a while, check the perimeter,” he ignored the tick in Eddie’s jaw and waved at you as he backed up to disappear around the backside of the trailer.

“Hey Harrington, my vest!” Eddie shouted, and it wasn’t long before the denim came sailing through the air to land on the dead lawn near the porch. Eddie bent to pick it up with a huff, and by then Jareth had disappeared into the night.

Now you were finally alone, and as much as it was what he wanted, it made his stomach drop.

Eddie paced the living room a bit before taking a seat, perching precariously at the end of the sofa to bounce his knee and gnaw at his bottom lip.

“Listen,” you took a beer and a half-full bottle of NuBlood out of the fridge to put it in the microwave for him. “I figure there’s no use asking you to leave with people obviously hunting me down, but I really need to take a shower. So just…make yourself at home I suppose?”

The microwave dinged and you walked the warm glass bottle over, and then waited for him to wrap his hand around it, fingers grazing yours, before you spoke. “I feel like there are some things we should talk about.”

Eddie was already nodding. “I’d like that,” he gulped.

Eddie waited until he heard the shower running before he sank down into the cushion and used the remote to turn the TV on. He needed to distract himself from letting his mind wander to how you were absolutely undressing in there, about to be naked and wet and…

He squirmed in his seat and turned the volume up. It was an MTV music video for Metallica’s Until it Sleeps, but he only vaguely cared as he puffed his cheeks for a forceful exhale. In his head, he practiced what he would say, how he would beg your forgiveness, and how he never really understood what this guy Brenner was all about until it was too late…

In the shower, you made the water as hot as you could handle it, leaning into the burn, and stood there for the longest time without moving. Eyes closed, you could feel Eddie step into the shower behind you, sneaking his hands around to pluck at your nipples. “Room for one more?” He rumbled in your ear, just before he nibbled it.

He wasn’t really there, but you couldn’t help but touch yourself with a soapy hand as if he were, biting your lip around a moan.

The water ran cold by the time you were ready to step out, swooshing the curtain aside with a swift swipe of your arm.

The thump of something heavy falling to the ground out in the living room had you straining to hear what it might’ve been as you pulled a clean t-shirt and jeans on. Music videos were on, playing In the Blood by Better Than Ezra, and you called Eddie’s name.

The only response you got was from Bela, and she let out one long screech that felt like it had the power to break glass.

“Eddie?” You shouted this time, flinging the door open to let the steam roll out and fill the hallway. “Bela??”

The door to your trailer was wide open, but Bela was there, scrambling from the back of the couch to perch on your shoulder the second you came into view.

“What happened?” You asked your demobat companion. “He just left us here? Without a word?”

The potted terracotta plant that had once been above the TV right by the door was on the carpet, shattered.

You crossed your arms over your chest, and shivered as you stepped one foot out on the porch to look around, a chill breeze nipping at your flesh. “Eddie? Are you out here? Steve?”

The whole court was eerily silent, even the crickets and frogs were holding their breath.

You backed up into the house, pulling the door shut.

The TV screen went from MTV to static, and you stepped back to stare at it while Bela swished her tentacles around nervously, leaving red, raised scratches on your arm and neck. She was heavy, but you’d gotten used to her weight and hitched our shoulder up to accommodate.

The static changed to the image of a man standing before a black backdrop. He was tall and thin, wearing a business suit with a full head of silver hair.

“Hello Dove,” the man on your TV said.

He was looking right at you.

You glanced around for a weapon, but as if he could read your mind he said. “No need for that, I don’t want to hurt you.” He was handsome in a “trust me”, evil doctor kind of way, but the last thing you felt like giving him was your trust.

“What did you do to Eddie?” It felt stupid, talking to an electronic device as if it were a person, but that was the situation you’d found yourself in.

Brenner said nothing, but you got a bad feeling and swallowed to wet your dry mouth before taking cautions steps over to the window facing his trailer to peel back the blinds.

But you could already see the flames inside, and just then, you smelled the smoke.

His trailer

It was on fire.

“Nononono no,” You chanted, charging for the door.

“Come with me quietly,” the man on the TV said, calmly. “Or your vampire boyfriend will meet the final death.”

You halted in your tracks, glaring down at the older man, nostrils flaring with anger. “Come with you? Where are you hiding?” You chided; hands balled into fist as you cocked your head. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

Brenner looked down before meeting your eyes again. “Your father underestimated the capacity for your powers. I don’t plan to make the same mistake.”

“How did you know my father?” You barked.

Outside, one of Eddie’s windows blew out, glass shattering everywhere, and his curtains went up in flames.

You ran outside and flew down the steps before the man's voice could stop you. Dio, Eddie’s cat, ran by to hide under your trailer.

Maybe Eddie had gone in like a crazy person to save some photos or something, and somehow, he’d gotten trapped in there. Bela took to the sky while you rushed to his door.

But then there he was, staggering out on a dark cloud of smoke, holding an electric guitar in his hand.

“My sweetheart,” he held it up. “I couldn’t let her burn.”

He was smiling at you from the top of his steps, dimples popping, and you could help but mirror it, flooded with relief. He really didn’t care that his whole place was burning, as long as he had Dio, his guitar, and you.

He’d lost much more in his life to a fire once when he was younger, so this one wouldn't sting half as bad.

And it suddenly didn’t matter that some creepy old dude could somehow talk to you through your TV: Eddie was okay.

But then something else happened.

He took the first step, never taking his eyes off of you, but something knocked his shoulder back, like an invisible punch.

And then another and another

The smile on his face quivered and his forehead creased, trying to understand what was happening.

He tucked his chin to look at his torso, and your eyes followed.

Dark blooms were appearing on his shirt like liquid spilled from an inkwell. On his chest, over his heart, from his stomach.

He stumbled down the last two steps and then fell to his knees, dropping the guitar so that he could brace himself with his hand.

Had Eddie been shot?

You didn’t have time to figure that out. Some strange voice in your head told you there was a chance the trailer could explode—or maybe you’d watched too many movies—but you had to get him away from there. He was a vampire, and even if he had been shot, he could heal, but you weren't sure how he would survive his body being blown to bits.

The next thing you knew, you were carrying him, much like he’d carried you in his arms earlier. You didn't need to summon the insane strength; it was just there. There was that buzzing in your skull, and you could feel violent sparks crackling through your muscles.

Everyone was coming out of their trailers at that point, and Dolores was screaming frantically into her phone wearing a nightshirt and curlers in her hair. You didn’t know how long it would take for the fire department to get there, or if there was a possibility that the wreckage would spread to the other trailers.

You put Eddie down on the other side of your hearse and leaned him back against the tire to find there was blood trickling from his mouth, but he still tried to grin at you.

“See,” he sputtered. “You’re like a superhero. You don’t need me.”

“But I do,” tears clouded your eyes while another window blew out from the trailer. You put your forehead to his and your lips brushed together. “Please, don’t leave me. Eddie I—”

“The bullets,” he winced. “They’re silver. My body can’t reject them.”

There were three or four different holes in him there that were steaming as the silver burned him from the inside. You cupped your hand on his jaw, and he grabbed your wrist, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Here, take my blood—”

You yanked your shirt down to give him your pulsing jugular, but all of a sudden you were forced back by some unseen force, flying through the air until you landed ass first in the gravel and skidded to a stop, rolling over to find yourself face first at the feet of someone wearing a pair of black, shiny shoes and slacks.

“Dove,” a familiar, deep voice said. “We meet again.”

You pushed back, scuttling away to find that it was the man from your TV; he was standing in your trailer park. Flanked by two menacing looking men with bald, tattooed heads, wearing sunglasses. Each of them in suits and ties as if they were the actual Men in Black.

“I don’t know you,” you grumbled, getting to your feet that were bare and bleeding, but healing rapidly. You checked around each shoulder cautiously to see that there was a handful of other men in suits, all of them holding guns, and then a tall guy with a scalp of strawberry stubble, no more than 20, in a red jumpsuit. The guy had his chin down, eyes pinned on you as if he might shoot lasers from them.

His expression was deceivingly kind. “My name is Martin Brenner. I met you before you died the first time,” he said casually.

“You see, your father and I used to be friends,” he walked a circle around you, before coming front and center again. “He stole valuable information from my laboratory in order to bring you back. You're my property as well, but he decided to keep you from me.”

“My father never mentioned you,” was all you could say. In your peripheral vision, you could tell the others were inching close.

“We could’ve been so great together, Dove. Imagine your contribution to science. And you would not be so uncertain about your powers,” he stepped back to gesture at the boy in the red jumpsuit. “I want to introduce you to Kane. He was reanimated the same way you were, but under my expertise and supervision.”

Kane had a railroad scar on his forehead, and a hand that was a different skin color than the rest of his body. It wasn’t just a different skin tone; it was a body part from an entirely different person.

You thought about all of the love you were raised with, and though your dad fumbled the ball on attentiveness quite a bit, you never doubted how much he cared for you. You were beginning to understand that maybe he didn’t explain what abilities you might have because it would lead you back to Brenner somehow.

The surge of power was growing inside of you, and instead of pushing it down, you let it grow and churn and spill out, creating a type of electrical force field around your body, a vibrating aura of protection.

“Show her what you can do, Kane,” Brenner said.

Not sure what to expect, you watched Kane rubbed his hands together, creating a bright bolt of lightning from the friction, his eyes went milk white, and then he shot an arm out towards the nearest hulking security guard, palm open, and it sent the man in black off his feet, sailing back as if he were hugging an invisible beach ball. He smacked into the side of the opposite neighbor’s trailer with a bone to metal thwack.

Your eyes were fixed for too long on the man slumped in the gravel, and when you turned to face Kane again, he was a few steps closer, peering through his lashes at you with an evil twitch of his lips.

Apparently, you were the next example in his bag of tricks.

Your feet were off the ground before you could process another thought, catching air like a rag doll only to drop down and skid face first into the cold, dry earth.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be, eh? Lifting into a push up position, you spat dirt and blood from your mouth with a curse.

Gathering yourself up and into a crouch, you vaguely heard Eddie call your name, but he was still rendered temporarily helpless by the silver, and your head was spinning. Not so much from confusion and fear this time, but more…anger.

You nailed Kane with a heated look, and then your hand lashed out in his direction, though he was yards away, and actual sparks flew from your palm, spitting like fireworks.

Kane was pummeled in the gut with a force he obviously wasn’t expecting, and you kept going before he could find his footing again, knocking him down before he could raise a hand at you again..

“How does that feel?” You bit, towering over him.

In a heartbeat, you lifted Kane’s limp body above your head with a roar that you could not believe came from your own mouth. Arching back, you aimed to drop him over the nearby trailer hitch, which would surely break his back, if not kill him, but then you remembered who you were and faltered.

Blinking, trying to quiet the buzzing in your skull, you knew you did not want to kill this boy.

You understood, even under such duress, that he was only doing what he was told.

But Brenner was actually applauding you, pupils blown from the intensity, urging you to keep going, to murder this stranger at his bidding.

You could’ve very easily ended up just like Kane, if not for the love and protection of your father.

Heaving, trying to calm yourself, you threw Kane’s body in the opposite direction, so that he landed on flat ground that would absolutely hurt, but he’d be able to walk away.

Brenner beamed at you like a parent watching their child take their first steps. “You’re stronger than I’d imagined. Your powers have somehow increased since your inception, and I’d love to know why.”

You squared up with him, making him step back to avoid the sparks actively snapping off of you. “What do you want from me?”

You didn’t have to look to know that all of the guns were trained on you.

“I want you to work for me, Dove. We could change the world together, you and I.”

It felt like he was trying to sell you a car, not asking to hook you up to electrodes and make you his own personal soldier.

“Never,” you were calm now, and you wanted nothing to do with this man or whatever he thought he could do for you.

The flames went higher on the trailer, and in the distance, wails of a fire engine could be heard.

You caught sight of Eddie, but he was flat on the ground now and no longer sitting up.

You rushed by Brenner, slamming into his shoulder as you went, but two of the guards caught you by the arms. It felt like they were stronger than normal men, and when they bared their fangs, you realized they were vampires.

Growling, you flung them off of you, and they went stumbling back as if they weighed nothing, as if you were suddenly impervious to their supernatural strength.

“Kill the boyfriend,” you heard Brenner bark at the men. “Use the wooden bullets this time.”

A gun cocked, and you ran a few steps, but then vaulted over Eddie’s body, arms wide, using yours as a shield.

You felt the bullet impact like a dagger in your back, but it was as if it bounced off somehow instead of penetrating. Eddie barked in pain as you covered him, but then he clung to you as you rolled him under the hearse, away from the gunfire.

Caging yourself on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, and stomachs touching, you could feel how weak he was; the silver enabled his body from healing, and you had to find a way to get them out.

You watched the feet of the one with the wooden bullets approach the vehicle, thinking of your next move when Eddie whispered into the side of your neck: “You’re so fucking beautiful—”

If this was the end for him, this was how he wanted to spend it: with you, being able to see your face one last time.

Before you could respond, there came a shrill, tortured scream, and the booted feet you had your eye on stumbled back.

More agonizing screams, until the body in question dropped to the ground, limbs writhing, and you could see that Bela had attached herself to his head like an Alien facehugger.

Only because he was a vampire, he was able to pull her off, but she took most of his flesh and his nose off with her.

Bela took to the sky again, out of view, and they aimed their guns up at her.

“Not so fast, boys,” a new voice rumbled from the shadows. “I want to play, too.”

Eddie’s shallow breaths moving under you, it was all you could do not to cheer out loud when you realized the voice belonged to Jareth.

And apparently, Jareth brought friends; enough to fill the entire courtyard.

They were crouching on the roofs, on cars, everywhere.

Brenner and his crew were surrounded; Bela had gone to get help.

In the woods, a pack of wolves howled their attendance as well.

Jareth pierced the closest vampire in the heart with a wooden stake and he exploded, guts flying everywhere.

As far as the human bodyguards went, the rest was a bloodbath.

From what you were told later, Kane ran, and Brenner tried to get behind the wheel of the SUV, but instead he was dragged into the war zone and drained dry before being ripped limb from limb.

Jareth wanted to keep the doctor in his dungeon to torture him, but a few of the vampires knew of Brenner and the experiments he’d done on their kind over the years. It was all nothing short of sadistic torture, keeping them barely alive so that he could run experiments on them over time and sell their blood for a profit.

They’d been wanting to get their hands on him for a long time.

—-----

By the time the rescue team and fire truck showed up, all of the vampires had evaporated into the shadows, and you’d snuck Eddie up into your bedroom, carrying most of his weight as he was only able to hobble. You collected his guitar as well, and brought Dio inside, since those were the only two things from the burning wreckage, he voiced a care about. With the lights out and the curtains closed, you used a modest bedside reading lamp to assess the damage. While you were concentrating on him, his eyes never left your face, his heart bursting.

“You might have to suck them out,” he cleared his throat. “The bullets I mean. I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“You mean, weirder than all of the other shit that happened tonight?” You mumbled, coming back from washing your hands. There was still dirt caked under your nails, possibly some blood, but whatever.

“Good point.”

Until you got the bullets out, any blood you gave him would be useless, so without another moment of hesitation, you crawled up on the bed, springs bouncing, and knelt next to his torso, bracing a hand at either side of him. He was burning up around the sight of each wound, and the skin sizzled as the alloy continued to roast him alive.

The first one was at the surface and came out fast, hot metal on your tongue. The next one, under his right nipple, was deeper and you had to suck harder, making Eddie’s toes curl. You spit each out onto the floor, and strings of his blood mingled in your saliva.

One hand behind his head, the other rested at his hip with a thumb in his belt loop. “So, you’re like…the incredible Hulk, but with powers. That’s pretty badass.”

“I don’t know what I am,” you scoffed, sucking out another, and then pausing to watch the openings seal up and heal. “I’m a waitress, that’s all. That’s all I want to be.”

He nodded, musing on how many times he’d wished he could go back and not be a vampire. He wanted to tell you the story of when he was reborn, but that could wait for another time. Now it was time to put some very messy cards on the table.

The last bullet was deep, and you had to swirl your tongue around in the hole to loosen it.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he blurted while your lips were near his belly button.

“Mmmhmm?”

Fuck, here it goes…

“First, I just want to say that I had no idea who this Brenner guy was before, like, a few months ago,” his next swallow felt like he was chugging a grapefruit. “If I’d have known what a creep, he was I never would’ve…”

You stopped what you were doing to raise your head, waiting for him to finish, the final bit of silver still lodged in his abdomen. “You knew of Brenner? Before all this?”

He couldn’t look at you, he had to stare at the ceiling.

“Uh, yeah, that first week you were here, he tracked me down at the chop shop and said he’d pay me a shit ton of money to keep an eye on you. I didn’t ask a lot of questions. As far as I knew, you were his long-lost daughter, or some shit and he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You sat back on your knees, trying to let that sink in.

He lifted up to brace himself on an elbow, wincing at the sting of the remaining bullet. “I didn’t know you then, that was before we were…” he fumbled with what he wanted to call you and what you actually were, “...a friend.”

“So,” you frowned down at your hands. “You’re the reason I was kidnapped tonight? The reason all of this happened?” Your wide eyes snapped to him. “Did you set me up?”

He sliced his hand in the air a few times, shaking his head vigorously. “No..nope…I had nothing to do with any of this,” he pleaded. “I only reported back to him for a couple of weeks, and then I stopped, really. After that night I first took you to Sacrament, I told him I was too busy to—”

All of the horrific memories were rushing back to you. “What about the Klemp’s? Did you pay them to hurt me or something? So that I’d have to drink your blood and let you into my head?”

Eddie spoke so fast; he stuttered over his words. “No, absolutely not, never! I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I would never let anyone hurt you like that.”

“But they did hurt me,” you muttered.

Now it was you who couldn’t look at him, working your jaw muscles as you tried to decide which emotion you should be feeling.

“Why should I even believe you?” Your voice was small.

“Please believe me I—”

“If you knew this guy was stalking me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? If you’re as concerned for my welfare as you claim to be?”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry or scream; maybe both.

Eddie didn’t have a chance to answer. You were on your feet at the end of the bed with your arms crossed.

Suddenly, you were shaking, and you couldn’t control it. “After Sacrament, I didn’t see you for a long time, it felt like you were avoiding me. Was that because you no longer had to fake interest in me for your scam?”

Eddie pushed himself up into a seated position, blinking back the memory of how painfully hard it had been to stay away from you for all that time. “No, you have to trust me, that had nothing to do with—”

“Trust you?” You barked a sarcastic laugh. “Tell me why then? Why avoid me for so long, huh? Because you weren’t getting paid to—”

Eddie’s voice wavered and he spoke in a rush. “Because I started to have feelings for you, that’s why. Happy? Because ever since that first day I saw you, you’re all I can fucking think about. Because I can’t even look at another woman without seeing your face, and believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve gotten real good at disappointing people and leaving people behind, and all I know is, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Your lips parted to say something, but he figured what the hell, he might as well scare you all the way off while he was at it.

He relaxed his shoulders and wet his lips. “I never told you that I was made vampire against my will. I died and was brought back, but my heart went cold, and I never thought I’d feel anything for anyone ever again. I didn’t want to feel anything. I should’ve stayed dead, I wanted to be with all of the people I’d lost…”

His suede brown eyes sought your face. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel dead anymore. When I think about you, I feel fragile and human again. Like maybe I’ve got something worth giving away.”

Silence filled the room like helium in a balloon about to burst.

He’d gone for broke, and there was nowhere left to hide. He was officially at your feet, where he’d always been.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered when you didn’t respond right away. “I get it.”

You tilted your head all the way back to stare at the ceiling.

“I dream about you every night,” you admitted on an exhale. “Logically I know it has to do with ingesting your blood, but it’s…it’s more than that.”

He bit at the inside of his cheek, picking at a thread on the comforter. “Every night, huh?”

You gave a few slow nods, and you could almost hear the smile pull across his teeth.

“Yeah, so, blood induced dreaming should only happen a handful of times after it’s ingested,” he said, shifting in his seat.

You kept nodding, since that was something you’d already suspected. “The dreams are always so vivid, I wake up…”

He dared to finish for you after a long pause. “Wanting more?”

“No,” you corrected, turning to face him. “I wake up wishing they were real.”

----

I la la la love you all who have reached out to me about this story and continue to cheer it on. Comments, reblogs, and asks about this world mean everything to me.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months ago

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Red Sky At Morning | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of healing from a sexual assault (proceed with caution if this is triggering for you!!! I love you!! Take care of yourself!!!), canon violence, canon gore, spitting insults back and forth with Bela, discussions of dead family members

Word Count: 7523

A/N: I snuck a New Girl reference in here… see if you can catch it ;) Also… there is heavy homoerotic subtext between Bela and (Y/N). Giving my loyal subjects what they deserve lmfao

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Your mind refused to let you rest after seeing Sam leaving in the middle of the night. Despite your exhaustion, you stayed near the window until you saw the car return to its original parking spot around three in the morning. And sure enough, Sam walked out of it, looking severely pissed off.

‘I’m guessing he didn’t just have a bad hookup,’ you mentally remarked. You stewed for a few more minutes on what he could’ve possibly gone to do before sleep finally came to claim you. You settled into bed next to Dean with a yawn, and his lips twitched upwards in his sleep when you wound your arms around him.

***

The next morning around seven, you woke up to see Dean shuffling around and packing.

“Look at you, early bird,” you said dryly, stretching.

He turned slightly over his shoulder and smiled at you. “We gotta talk about Sam.”

You sat up, immediately alert. “Yeah, I know. I saw him leave last night.”

“And now, one of the bullets is missing from the Colt,” Dean huffed. “Dammit, Sam.”

“Let me take the lead on this one, okay?” you urged Dean, moving to the bathroom to brush your teeth and messy hair. “Promise I’ll let you get your two cents in, but I wanna see if he’ll fess up to it first.”

Dean seemed hesitant, but you saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror nod anyway. He approached you and gave you a kiss on the side of the head; you assumed in assurance that he would do what you said.

***

Night fell, and none of you had said a word to each other. You sat in the back seat, of course, and Sam was in the passenger’s. You leaned back on the cool leather with crossed arms, waiting for someone to break.

Finally, you’d had enough. “Got somethin’ you wanna tell us, Sam?”

He turned to you, and it was evident he was playing dumb. “It’s not your birthday, is it?”

You quirked a brow, unamused. “No.”

“...Happy Purim?” he laughed. “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about—”

Dean cut him off, seeming not to be able to help himself. “There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened? I know it wasn't me. I know it wasn’t her. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans—”

“Dean…” Sam sighed.

“You went after the crossroads demon, huh?” you said as more of a statement than a question.

“After I told you not to,” Dean added harshly.

“Yeah, well…”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Dean roared.

“I didn’t,” Sam argued.

“And you shot her.”

“She was a smartass!”

Dean waited a moment, trying to gain his composure. “So, what? Does that— Does that mean I'm out of my deal?”

“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?” Sam scoffed. “No. Someone else holds the contract.”

“I do believe I already told you that,” you reminded the boys. “And no one will fucking say who.”

“Of course, our best lead would be the crossroads demon. Oh, wait a minute…” Dean snarked.

“That's not funny,” Sam said dryly.

“No, it's not!” Dean yelled. “It was a stupid fuckin’ risk, and you shouldn't have done it.”

“I shouldn't have done it?” Sam challenged. “You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?”

The rest of the drive to the next case you’d stumbled upon was completely silent.

***

You and the Winchesters posed as detectives once more to interview the great-aunt of the woman who’d drowned in the shower. The witness seemed particularly interested in Sam, which you were struggling to hold back a smile over.

“But I don't understand,” the elegant, elderly woman said. “I already went over all this with the other detectives.”

“Right, yes,” Dean replied. “But, see, we're with the sheriff's department, not the police department – different departments.”

“So, Mrs. Case—”

“Please.” The woman’s voice had suddenly dropped an octave, likely attempting to seem sultry. “Ms. Case.”

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “Okay. Um, Ms. Case, um, you were the one who found your niece, correct?”

She nodded. “I came home; she was in the shower.”

“Drowned?” Sam asked.

“So the coroner says. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?” Ms. Case’s eyes refused to leave Sam.

“How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death? I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary, or—”

Ms. Case suddenly cut Sam off. “Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?”

Before you could voice your confusion, Dean started talking. “Yep. Absolutely. That's—” he laughed, “Alex and us, we're like this.”

“Why didn't you say so?” Ms. Case grinned. “Alex has been such a comfort. But I’m sorry, I thought the case was solved.”

You shook your head. “No, not yet.” “I see.” The woman seemed a bit dazed.

Sam cleared his throat. “So, anyways, we were talking about your niece.”

“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat,” the woman explained.

“A boat?” you questioned.

“Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a…” the woman trailed off, seeming to search for the word, “—ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.” You noticed that the elderly woman’s eyes still had not left Sam.

The younger Winchester seemed thrown off by her intensity, and he coughed awkwardly. “Well, um, could be.”

“Well. You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you—” she traced her hand down Sam’s slowly, and you and Dean had to bite back smiles— “Anything at all.”

***

Your laughter burst out as soon as you got down the street and far enough away from the house that the old woman couldn’t see you.

“What a crazy old broad,” Dean chuckled.

“Why? Because she believes in ghosts?” Sam scoffed.

You and his brother laughed louder. “Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.”

“Bite me,” Sam grumbled.

“No thanks,” you smirked, “bet she will, though.”

“So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?” Dean questioned.

The brunet shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job.”

“And what looked like a ghost ship, right?”

“Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Really?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Every thirty-seven years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every thirty-seven years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings.”

“So, whatever's happening is just getting started,” Dean sighed. “What's the lore?”

“Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman; almost all of them are death omens.”

“So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?” the older brother snarked.

“Basically,” shrugged Sam.

“Next step?” you asked him.

“I gotta I.D. the boat.”

“That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?” you replied.

“I checked that, too, actually. Over one-hundred and fifty.”

“Oh, great!” you sarcastically noted.

You and the Winchesters approached an empty parking spot, and you got increasingly confused as you did.

“This is where we parked the car, right?” Dean asked.

“For sure,” you nodded.

“Where's my car?” Dean growled.

“Did you feed the meter?” Sam questioned.

Dean’s voice began to rise in a panic. “Yes, I fed the meter. Guys, where's my car? Somebody stole my car!”

“Whoa, Dean!” you said, grabbing his arm and trying to keep him from pacing.

“Somebody stole my ca—” Dean bent over to clutch his knees to calm down.

“The '67 Impala? Was that yours?” A familiar voice slyly asked.

“Oh, you bitch,” you grumbled, looking up to see Bela Talbot.

“I'm sorry. I had that car towed,” she said.

Dean shot up. “You what?!”

“Well, it was in a tow-away zone,” Bela replied simply.

“No, it wasn’t!” Dean argued.

“It was when I finished with it,” she smirked.

“What the hell are you even doing here?” the older brother questioned pointedly.

“A little yachting,” she responded flippantly.

You clicked your tongue, realizing something. “You’re Alex. Workin’ with that old lady.”

“Gert's a dear old friend,” Bela nodded.

“Yeah, right. What's your angle?” Dean cut his eyes at her.

“There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats,” Bela grinned.

“And let me guess, it's all a con, none of it's real.”

“The comfort I provide them is very real.”

Sam jumped in finally. “How do you sleep at night?”

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money,” she scoffed. “Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from him, but you?”

“You shot me!”

“I barely grazed you.”

“She is right,” you murmured.

Bela turned to you. “Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?”

“You do know what's going on around here. This ghost-ship thing, it is real,” Dean pressed.

“I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way,” she said.

Dean looked at her like she was stupid. “It isn't.”

“She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment, and she's demanding some real answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you. Before they find the arsenal in the trunk.” Bela turned around and smiled over her shoulder. “Ciao.”

You and the Winchesters watched her go.

“Can I shoot her?” Dean growled.

“Not in public,” you and Sam replied.

***

You encountered Bela once more the next day when another man had been killed. She was posing as a reporter, but you and the brothers managed to shoo her away from the victim’s brother. Unfortunately for him, he’d seen the ship as well.

Thankfully, you’d gotten the car back, and you headed over to it after questioning the man. It was parked a distance off from the buzzing crime scene, enabling Dean to begin loading shotguns in the back of his car.

“I see you got your car back,” Bela’s frustratingly beautiful voice cooed.

“You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?” Dean growled.

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure,” she quipped. “Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat.”

“That guy back there saw the ship,” you explained.

“Yeah? And?”

You blinked at her, slightly stunned by her coldness. “And he’s going to die. We have to help him.”

“How sweet,” she mockingly pouted.

“What is wrong with you, man?” you asked her.

She ignored you. “He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it.”

“But why not at least try?” you argued.

“Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun,” she grinned tightly.

Sam and Dean moved to either side of the car, but you weren’t done with her yet.

Dean seemed to know what you were up to as he watched you intently, saying,

“(Y/N)—” but it was too late.

“Look, I don’t know what happened to you to make you such a heartless bitch, but I really and truly hope you heal from it soon. ‘Cause you’re a completely miserable person to be around,” you called after her.

She turned around to you sharply with her arms crossed. “Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're not better than I am.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I am. In fact, I know I’m not. But at least I own it and try to be better.”

“Come on,” Bela scoffed. “You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're all a stone's throw from being serial killers. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job, and I do it. So, you tell me, which is healthier?”

“Oh, god, if I didn’t hate you so much, we’d be such good friends,” you said, a lilt of sincerity in your voice. “But I gotta tell you, man, I’m really not concerned with which is healthier. I’m not even concerned with which is more “morally ethical.” What just… puzzles me about you is how you think that nasty attitude shields you.

"These two might not be able to see it,” you continued, nodding at Sam and Dean, “but I do. You are quite genuinely disappointed in yourself. I get it. The economy sucks, the bees are dying, and movies are all pretty much sequels now. Gotta put food on the table some kind of way. But why do it your way when you can’t even stand to look at yourself in the mirror? Pride. Because without your money and your attitude, you know you’re not half the woman you claim to be.”

“You talk too much,” Bela spat, clearly affected by your words. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“All the time,” you smirked. “See ya around, Alex.”

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters decided to stake out the home of Peter Warren, the man you’d spoken to earlier. He was next on the chopping block, and you desperately hoped you’d be able to stop the ghost in time.

You knew that whatever Sam and Dean were talking about, they would catch you up later. And so, you decided to let your thoughts drag you into your own mind.

You were aware of how harsh you’d been on Bela. The truth be told, you didn’t hate her at all. In fact, you admired her ambition. However, everything you’d told her had all been your real perception of her. You knew that everything about her was a facade. And for some reason, she really got under your skin.

You supposed it was because you saw yourself in her. Maybe, if things had been different for you, you would have ended up just like her. Maybe you didn’t like seeing your reflection in her.

“Hey, you!” someone called from outside the Impala.

“I think we've been made,” Dean said to you and Sam.

You followed him across the road to where Peter stood, yelling.

“What are you guys doing?! You watching me?”

“Sir, calm down. Please,” Sam coaxed, but to no avail.

“You guys aren't cops!” he continued. “Not dressed like that. Not— Not in that crappy car.”

“Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.” Dean cut his eyes at Peter.

“We are cops, okay? We're undercover,” Sam bluffed easily. “We're here because we think you're in danger.”

“From who?!”

“If you just settle down, we'll talk about it.” Sam led you and his brother into the gate, backing Peter closer to his car.

“Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Peter exclaimed, getting into the vehicle to drive it toward the gate.

“Wait!” you called.

“Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!”

“Not helping, Dean!”

As the car approached the gate, it shuddered, coughed weakly, and died.

“That can't be good,” Dean noted.

“Not at all,” you replied. “Get the salt gun.” Next, you ran to the car to help Peter. In the seat behind him, a man with sunken eyes and dripping wet, long, black hair dressed in old sailor’s clothes appeared. Then, it was next to Peter in the passenger’s seat. You tugged on the handle with all your might, but it wouldn’t budge. Horrified, you watched as Peter slumped to the steering wheel with water pouring from his lips.

“(Y/N)!” Dean called from behind you.

You ducked just in time for Dean to fire at the ghost from the passenger’s side door.

Reaching through the broken glass, you hurriedly unlocked the door. You immediately dragged Peter out onto the concrete and put your head to his chest, listening for a pulse. He had none, but you tried CPR anyway. Of course, it was no use. Defeated, you looked up at Dean with sad eyes.

“Dammit!” he growled, kicking the car in frustration.

***

You hadn’t spoken much after leaving Peter behind. It felt awful to leave him on the ground, but there wasn’t much you could do with his body if you wanted to evade suspicion.

Luckily, Dean had found a house to squat in a few days earlier, and that was where you were readying for bed.

The house had clearly not been lived in for some time, and you were thankful you made the brothers start keeping air mattresses on them for instances like these.

You and Dean took the upstairs bedroom, and Sam slept in the one downstairs. The house was still furnished, but dust covered every surface. You decided to leave the cleaning for tomorrow and opted for a “ho bath” as your mother used to call them since you refused to step foot in the unclean shower.

Cross-legged on the air mattress, the hair you were in the midst of combing through waved gently in the wind coming through the open window.

“You wanna say it, or should I?” Dean raised an eyebrow at you as he entered the room after his shower.

You tilted your head at him, confused.

“You can’t save everybody, sweetheart,” he reminded you.

“Dean—” You rolled your eyes.

“What? Don’t gimme that. I know you were thinkin’ it,” Dean said, getting down onto the mattress next to you. He lounged back on the crook of his arm behind his head, leaning against the wall.

You couldn’t meet his eyes and kept your body facing the open window on the adjacent wall. “I just… It feels like I can’t save anybody lately.”

Dean stared at you intently; you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

You returned to brushing your hair, and he sat up to sweep it all over your shoulder opposite him. Dean kissed your newly-exposed neck gently, as if he was savoring the way you felt against his lips. Your brushing slowed, and you tilted your neck further to give him more access.

He kissed up to your mouth; his kiss gentle there, too. When he broke away from you, Dean leaned his forehead against yours.

“What are you doing to me, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled lowly in his chest, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear him say that.

You responded by nudging his nose with yours and then pecking his lips.

Something in the way the two of you kissed felt somber. Granted, almost every day recently seemed to have a somber element. Every day meant one step closer to Dean’s time being up. It was the elephant in the room that was only acknowledged for fleeting moments. And when one did acknowledge it, the other would beg for it to be over. While both of you knew talking about the situation was necessary, neither of you could bear it for longer than a few minutes every once in a while.

You brought this up to Sam the next morning, who sat with you on the couch as the sun rose while Dean continued to sleep.

“I think he just wants to be with you,” Sam said. “I mean, with Jess… when I was dreaming about her dying, all I wanted to do was be with her. To… reassure me that wasn’t real. Or, wasn’t real yet, I guess.”

You nodded. “And I don’t necessarily want to talk about it for extended periods of time. Talking about it makes me feel more in control, I think. I just don’t like feeling fucking helpless.”

“Trust me, I don’t either. And Dean definitely doesn’t. I tend to micromanage more than he does, but…” he shrugged, trailing off.

“I have something else to tell you,” you began, wondering if you should even continue.

“Go ‘head.”

“Back at that… prison. The guard I beat up? He, um, he raped me.”

“Oh, my god,” Sam breathed out. “God, (Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. That’s not the point.” You scrubbed your hands down your thighs anxiously. “I’m telling you because I don’t wanna talk to Dean about it. I mean, with the deal and everything else going on… I almost don’t wanna burden him with it? I mean, he knows, obviously, but… I don’t know, I just feel like I have no right to be struggling compared to him.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Sam scolded gently. “(Y/N), neither of us could ever imagine what that’s like. And if my idiot brother is making you feel that way—”

“No, no, he’s not—”

“—Good! ‘Cause I’d kill ‘im if he was,” Sam finished. It was honestly the most riled up you’d seen him in a while.

“Thanks, Sammy,” you smiled weakly. “It’s just… it’s all so much right now. I wanna enjoy every second of my time with Dean. But between the deal and hunts and… that and everything else on the goddamn planet consuming me every second of the fucking day, it’s really hard to.”

Sam eyed you sympathetically.

Before he could respond, you took in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “Anyway, what’s up with Peter and his brother? I know you researched ‘em yesterday while I was zoned out in the back of the car.”

Sam still seemed like he was wrapped up in your earlier conversation, but he knew better than to force you to keep talking about. “Oh, yeah, uh… they came into, like, a hundred and twelve million after their dad passed. That was really the only thing interesting. Everything else about ‘em was clean,” he informed you.

“Huh,” you considered. “Any connection between the vics?”

Sam pursed his lips. “Far as I can tell, no.”

“Awesome,” you dryly stated.

You then heard a groan come from upstairs as someone began to descend the staircase.

“Morning, Dee,” you called up.

All you got was a grunt in response.

***

You sat with your knees pulled to your chest, wrapped by Dean’s arms as he held you to his side. The two of you were just sitting with each other and thinking; a pastime that you were becoming quite fond of.

Dean’s lazy circles he was tracing on your outer leg stopped at a knock on the door.

You shot Dean a look and stood, grabbing your gun off the worn coffee table. You pressed it to the back of the door and peered through the peephole to unfortunately see Bela. At this revelation, you made a face at Sam and opened the door.

She strolled right in. “Dear... god. Are you actually squatting? Charming.” Her self-satisfied smirk never left her face. “So, how'd things go last night with Peter?”

You refused to dignify her with a response as did Sam and Dean.

“That well, huh?” she taunted. “If you say 'I told you so,’ I swear to god; I'll start swinging,” Dean growled.

“Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart,” she sighed.

“Oh, sure. We can sing kumbaya while we’re at it,” you quipped. “Cut to the chase, Bela.”

“Temper, temper,” she tsked. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Such as?” Sam questioned.

“I've ID'd the ship.” She unwrapped a leather case containing a quite elaborate file. She spread the papers within it across the table. “It's the Espírito Santo: a merchant sailing vessel; quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven.”

“Which would explain the thirty-seven year cycle,” Sam noted.

“Aren’t you a sharp tack?”

You snapped, “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

She ignored your comment. “There's a photo of him somewhere…” she flipped through the file and finally settled on a picture of a much drier version of the man you’d seen last night.

Dean looked to Sam. “Isn't that the customer we saw last night?”

“You saw him?” For once, Bela seemed surprised.

“Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand,” the older brother nodded.

“His right hand?” Bela questioned.

“How'd you know?” you returned.

“The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory,” she explained.

Dean childishly laughed. “A hand of glory? I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week.”

“Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful,” Sam lightly chastised.

Bela rolled her eyes. “So they say.”

“And officially counts as remains,” Dean considered.

Sam’s eyebrows pinched together. “But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims.”

“I'll tell you why. Who cares?” Bela said curtly. “Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.”

“I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?” you asked.

“Because I know exactly where the hand is,” she nodded.

“Where?”

“At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help,” she said, closing up the file.

Sam crossed his arms. “What kind of help?”

The woman smiled. You hated how charming her smile was. You wanted to hate her so badly, but she was growing on you.

‘Definitely like a wart. Maybe a fungal infection,’ you thought.

***

“I hate this plan,” you said.

“I don’t think you realize how often you say that,” Dean returned.

You glared up at him while you helped adjust his tie. He looked completely beautiful, and you wanted nothing more than to keep him here with you and ravish his body.

Bela’s brilliant plan was bringing Dean as her date and forcing Sam to go with Ms. Case to a charity event. However, given Bela and Ms. Case could only take one guest each, you were forced to sit this one out. Or, at least, that was what Bela thought; you knew she could’ve gotten you in if she really wanted to. You knew she was attempting to humiliate you or put you in your place after what you said to her. However, if there was one thing you knew, it was how to crash a party.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Dean asked you.

“You,” you smiled lopsidedly up at him.

He smirked down at you and kissed you. He held you by your waist as close to him as he could get you, and you returned the gesture by gripping his lapels.

“What is taking so long?” Bela called up the stairs, forcing you and Dean apart. “Sam's already halfway there... with his date.”

“So not okay with this!” Dean yelled back, and you giggled, resting your forehead on his chest.

“What are you, a woman? Come down already.”

Dean looked at you— for approval? For reassurance?— and headed down the stairs. He adjusted his cufflinks with you trailing just behind him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Bela looked beautiful in her evening gown and glittering jewels, of course, and you hated her all the more for it.

“Alright, get it out,” Dean encouraged you and Bela. “I look ridiculous.”

“Not exactly the word I'd use,” Bela sighed.

Dean’s nose crinkled in disgust. “What?”

“Y’know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex,” Bela stated plainly.

“Don’t objectify him!” you cut her off; perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

Both Dean and Bela stared at you in questioning.

“Let’s go,” Dean told Bela. “See ya, sweetheart,” he called back to you as he followed Bela out the door. He tossed one more longing look at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him.

You immediately sprinted back up the stairs and took out the evening gown you’d been hiding in your duffel bag.

***

After having snuck into the party through a window on the back of the museum that security had neglected to cover a door anywhere near, you casually slipped down the hall into the ballroom.

You could see Dean, Bela, and Sam bickering near the entrance to the grand ballroom, and you smiled lopsidedly at the sight. Sam then caught sight of you moving through the crowds of people toward them thanks to his superhuman height, as did Bela and then, Dean. Bela crossed her arms angrily, but you were focused on Dean and trying to fight a smile off your face.

Dean seemed to be breathless. “Damn, (Y/N).”

“Damn, yourself.” You turned to Bela. “Great party,” you commented, taking a glass of champagne off a passing tray.

“Thought you were supposed to be waiting back at the house,” Bela replied.

“And miss all the fun? No thanks,” you smirked, taking a sip and staining the glass with red lipstick.

Ms. Case then came up behind Sam holding two glasses of champagne. Before he knew it, he was being whisked away by his date. You giggled at the sight, and Bela rolled her eyes. “C’mon,” she told Dean.

You were delighted, actually. For once, you got to enjoy a fancy party without having to partake in the hunt or any sort of planning the heist. All you had to do was make sure no one got arrested.

You hung back on a far wall, sipping your beverage and watching a disgruntled Sam dance with a very handsy Ms. Case.

‘Dean would be pissing himself,’ you thought, giggling at the sight.

The next thing you knew, the old woman was whispering in Sam’s ear. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep the laugh from bursting out.

And then, your joy was smothered.

“Hi, gorgeous,” a man said, having come up next to you.

“Go away, please,” you snapped, beginning to feel tension grip your throat. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he was reminding you of what happened to you at the prison. Perhaps it was the way he approached you?

“Okay, then, Jesus,” he muttered and was gone soon after.

Your breathing began to slow, but your discomfort continued. Your heart rate remained elevated, and your mind felt in a fog. You returned your focus to Sam and Ms. Case once more trying to keep your mind grounded in the present.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your elbow. You whipped around and threw a punch, catching the attention of several people around you.

“Whoa!” Dean said, catching your wrist and dodging your fist.

Gaze landing on those beautiful green eyes and freckles that you had come to love so much, your breathing finally slowed. You began regaining awareness of the world around you and tried not to shrink under the stares of the wealthy around you.

“Way to not draw attention there, (Y/N),” Bela commented.

Eyes like daggers, your head snapped toward her. “Watch your fucking mouth,” you hissed.

She seemed to realize she’d crossed a boundary, and she backed off. “I’m gonna go get Gert a cold shower,” she quipped, her pride refusing to admit she knew she was wrong.

You stared after Bela mindlessly, and Dean put his first and middle finger under your chin to turn your face back to him. Your eyelashes flickered, and he searched your face for clues as to what triggered you.

Sam came up beside you and Dean. “Guys? Uh, hate to interrupt, but… let’s get outta here.”

You and Dean followed his gaze to one of the women you’d seen whispering and pointing at you after you threw a punch at Dean talking to a security guard and pointing at your trio. Dean instantly grabbed your hand and began leading you out of the museum.

When you arrived at the car, Sam turned to you. “You okay? Saw you try to deck Dean back there.”

“Yeah, uh… this guy just—” you ran a hand through your hair and sighed— “Nevermind. Let’s see the hand.”

Both boys dropped it, although you knew Sam would probe you further later.

“Yeah, tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing,” the younger brother commented.

“I got it... Mrs. Who?” Dean wondered.

You giggled. “Great Expectations?” you prompted.

Dean just stared at you blankly.

“Charles Dickens?”

He blinked.

“Dude, did you pay any attention in high school English?” Sam scoffed.

“Sure I did!” the older brother defended. “Caroline Stone sat in front of me; she was my tutor. Fucked her in the janitor’s closet and everything—”

“Oh, yeah, you were definitely paying attention to something,” you deadpanned, lightly flicking him on the shoulder.

He rustled around in his suit jacket, rolling his eyes, and took out something wrapped in a handkerchief. Dean’s amused expression soon melted into aggravation as he did so.

“What?” you and Sam asked worriedly.

The older Winchester held up a glass bottle with a miniature ship rocking around in it. “I'm gonna kill her.”

Behind Dean, you saw something on the horizon line. The museum was expectedly located near the water given its emphasis on seafaring history, and your heart dropped when you realized what was happening.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered under your breath. “Dean— Dean, I see it.”

“See what?” he asked, following your gaze.

“The fucking ship, Dean. It’s the fucking ship,” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), that’s it,” Sam realized.

“What’s it?” you questioned frantically, eyes still on the water.

“Ms. Case said the Warrens? The brothers? It was rumored they killed their father for his money. And Sheila? She got in a car accident. Her cousin Brian was with her, and he died. That’s the pattern.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing family members. Awesome.” You shook your head, turning to the expensive car next to you. “Fuck!” you yelled, punching the door of the car.

***

You paced around the room, Sam trying his best to keep you and Dean calm while he researched.

“Y’know what, you’re right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go,” Dean growled. “I’ll fuckin’ string her up, I swear to—”

“Dean, look, you gotta relax,” Sam sighed, although he seemed stressed as well.

“Relax!” Dean laughed coldly. “Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax. My fuckin’ girl’s just on Davy Jones’s hit list, and I can’t do anything to stop him because I lost the only fuckin’ thing we could use to save her. Fuck!” There was suddenly a frantic knocking on the door. Disgust burning in your eyes when you looked through the peephole, you opened the door for Bela.

“Just let me explain,” she said. “I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.”

Dean was completely furious, and he stalked around her. He made a shooting motion with his fingers which would’ve pulled a smile for you had it not been for your situation.

“So you needed a cover for the charity ball,” you spat. “And we were convenient.”

She nodded reluctantly.

“Look, you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back,” Sam implored.

Bela shook her head woefully. “It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time.”

“In time for what?” Dean questioned.

Realization struck you, and you began laughing coldly. “Oh, okay. You saw it, too.”

She looked up at you, and for the first time since you’d met her, Bela looked terrified.

Dean whistled lowly. “Wow, you know, I- I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—”

“What are you talking about?” she cut him off.

“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” Sam began, putting a photograph in front of Bela. “This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy.”

“So?” she prompted.

“So they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family’s blood. See, first, there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. Then, (Y/N). And now you.”

“Oh, my god,” Bela breathed out, seeming to breeze right by the fact that you’d seen the ship, too.

“So who was it, Bela? Hmm?” Dean taunted. “Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?”

“It’s none of your business,” she defended weakly.

“It is our fuckin’ business,” Dean snapped, suddenly leaning on the arms of her chair. “(Y/N) saw it, too. And I don’t give a damn about you. But (Y/N)... is…” he trailed off, shaking his head and hanging it low, seemingly overcome with emotion. “And you just sold the one thing that could possibly save her life.”

“Well,” Sam said, “maybe not the only thing.”

All three of you turned to face Sam questioningly.

***

Kneeling on the soft grass beside the grave of the captain, you helped the boys set up a ritual circle under the light of the full moon.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Bela asked worriedly, standing to the side. She pulled her jacket around her shoulders tightly.

“Almost definitely not,” Dean grumbled, looking over at you.

You smiled weakly at him trying to reassure him that you would be okay.

Thunder clapped unexpectedly, and the wind whistled around you. Rain began to pour, soaking you to the bone in an instant.

“Sammy! You better start reading!” Dean ordered, pulling you up from the ground and shielding you with his body.

The younger brother obeyed, and then, Bela shouted, “Behind you!”

Dean was immediately flung through the air away from you, and you wheeled around to see the ghost you’d seen at the Warren’s house. Before you could raise your gun to shoot him, he put his hands on either side of your head. Immediately, you began coughing up water. It felt like your throat was closing as the air slowly left your panicking body.

Dean staggered over to you and tried to support you through your heaving, shuddering breaths. “Sammy, read faster!”

Black spots began to form in your vision, and you were sure it was the end. Then, the rain died down. The wind billowed gently, and the spirit’s head turned slowly toward a creaking sound.

“You... hanged me!” the spirit cried at his brother.

“I’m sorry,” the captain responded pitifully.

“Your own brother.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The spirit charged his brother, leaving you a sputtering mess on the floor. You heard the two men scream, and then, they both went quiet.

***

After parting ways with Bela for the evening, you returned to the house for a few hours of sleep. However, laying next to Dean— the moon illuminating his freckled skin and occasionally-fluttering eyelashes, breaths deep enough to move his chiseled shoulders along with his chest— you couldn’t sleep. Since he’d drifted off about an hour ago, you’d been lazily stroking his hair; the two of you facing each other.

Then, Dean took in a deep breath, stretching out on his back. It became clear to you that he’d woken up, though his eyes remained closed, when he kissed the inside of your wrist. Soon enough, his breathing became steady once more. He kept you snuggled tightly into his right side; legs intertwined and breathing beginning to mirror each other’s.

And then, it hit you: you’d felt oddly at peace, as much as you’d tried to deny it, when the ghost put his hands on the sides of your head. Even when you were in excruciating pain— lungs burning and eyes watering— you were almost relieved. Because if you’d died tonight, that meant you wouldn’t have to live without Dean.

***

Given your realization the previous evening, you wandered around in a daze all morning. You had never enjoyed depending on others. Needing help was so pathetic in your mind, and you refused to ask for it. Despite the way you encouraged Dean to open up and accept help, you couldn’t take your own advice. After your mother’s devotion to your father led her to standing by idly while her two children were beaten black and blue, you swore that you would never let a man rule your life in any sense of the word. And now, Dean was consuming you.

However, this devotion didn’t feel hopeless. It didn’t feel messy. You didn’t feel your essence deteriorating while he hacked away, carving space and indelibly marking your soul. This devotion was welcomed. Allowed. Encouraged. You were willingly handing your beating heart to him, and you knew you could take it back at any time.

Before Dean, you never trusted anyone. You would never have allowed someone to walk beside you through Hell before you met him. Try as others might have, Dean was the only person to mesh harmoniously with your body, mind, and soul.

When Bela came to say her goodbyes, though, you forced yourself out of your thoughts. After she’d thoroughly amused Dean with the ten thousand dollars she gave the three of you to repay her debt, she swaggered out of the door. You surprised even yourself when you followed her out.

“Bela!” you called.

She turned back to you. “Sorry, darling, all out of goodies for the day—”

“I don’t want your money,” you cut her off. “I wanted you to know that… whatever you did, I understand. The boys may never, but I saw the ship, too. Whether we like it or not, we’re pretty similar; you and me.”

She seemed stunned by your admission.

“Take my number,” you told her, pressing a piece of paper into her hand. “If ever you feel like slummin’ it for a crappy beer in a dive bar. Or if you run into any more ghost ships.”

That stunned Bela even more as you turned on your heel and headed back inside.

*** “Seriously? Atlantic City?” Sam scoffed.

Dean had you speeding toward a casino with the money Bela gave you as night fell that evening. “Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black.” He paused for a minute, allowing the air to shift in the car. “Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um... I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.”

Sam sighed, much to your surprise. You figured he’d be thankful to hear Dean’s admission.

“Y’know, situation was reversed,” Dean continued, “I guess I'd 've done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal; me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay.”

Sam looked upset at that. “You think so.”

“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you live your life. You’re stronger than me.” At Sam’s scoff, Dean exclaimed, “You are! You are. You'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I’m sorry for... putting you through all this, I am.”

“Y’know what, Dean? Go fuck yourself,” Sam spat.

“What?” Dean questioned. You were stunned as well.

“I don't want an apology from you! And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself,” Sam continued his tirade.

“Oh, well, excuse me,” Dean grumbled.

“So would you please quit worrying about me?” Sam shouted over his brother. “I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you’re dying!”

“He does, Sam, knock it off!” you jumped in for the first time. After all, it was you that had planted the seed to Dean that he should have apologized to Sam.

Dean said nothing, and you could tell by the smirk on his face that he wouldn’t be displaying vulnerability with Sam again for quite some time.

“So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?” Sam pushed.

“I think maybe I'll play craps,” Dean stated.

Outraged, Sam just stared at him in complete disbelief. He turned to the window, and you continued to watch Dean. His smile faded to a steely, difficult-to-read expression.

Sighing, you settled stretched out across the seat and crossed your arms over your chest. Dean’s eyes met yours briefly in the rearview mirror, and you saw a flicker of his real feelings— hurt, betrayal, fear— cross his face before his expression returned to unreadable.

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