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frostedroyaltea · 4 years ago

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The Mystery of the Alexandrite Family

Ryan: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we will be discussing the mystery of the Alexandrite family. Now this one is different from others we’ve done-”

Shane: Why?

Ryan: You’ve got to let me tell you. Now this one is a bit strange, because of who survived, and what he may have done following it.

Shane: Well let’s hear it.

Ryan: So I don’t have the exact date since they were hard to find and most of these articles have been translated from Russian-

Shane: Ooh. Is this going to be like the one about the Romanov family?

Ryan: No. Weell. No. So this happened in a rather wealthy village in Russia, Река Слез (Reka Slez). In about the late 90s. One night people broke into the Alexandrite’s family home. The neighbours called for help after hearing gunshots. Vera and Edmon Alexandrite were found dead in the living room, each from multiple gunshot wounds. Their son, Ivan, was found unconscious and injured on the edge of the woods the family had on their property.

Shane: They must’ve been rich. Just having a forest on the property.

Ryan: Yeah.

Ryan clears his throat.

Ryan: Later, an investigation revealed large amounts of money were missing from security vaults kept in the home offices.

Shane: Offices? Plural? What’d they do for a living?

Ryan: That actually has to do with one of the theories. Along with the money whoever killed them also took with them -

The video cuts to Ryan reading off a list

“- different ornaments, like decorations. Other things that were stolen include jewelry, just jewels and gems in general -

Shane holds a hand up. “Hold up, they just had gems laying around?”

Ryan shrugs. “I guess? None of the reports specified where they were in the house just that they were stolen.”

“And they didn’t have any weapons or a dog at least? No security system? What did they expect to happen?”

“I don’t know. No weapons were found in the house besides kitchen knives. They could have been hidden though. There were other things stolen though-

“What? What else would they have?”

“Paintings,” Ryan says and Shane shakes his head a bit at him. “The missing paintings were never identified though, so the family probably never bought any, just painted them themselves or got them from friends or family.”

“How did they know the family didn’t buy the paintings?

“They scanned the other paintings for those ID chips and didn’t find any. I’m guessing they assumed the others weren’t bought as well.”

“So is this about the paintings?”

Ryan half-laughs. “No. Not quite. It does tie into one of the theories though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Ryan looks directly at the camera. “Now, back to Ivan…”

The screen goes back to black, showing pictures of a different family and a timeline.

Ryan: Extended family took Ivan in. His mother's cousins, the Bauxite’s. For three years he was under their care until - and wait until you hear this - they left Russia.

Shane: Did they take Ivan with them?

Ryan: No, and that’s the thing, he was left with no way of ever finding or contacting them again.

Shane: How old was he?

Ryan: Thirteen, I believe.

Shane: Jesus. Is he still alive?

Ryan: Yeah.

Shane: He know we’re doing this?

Ryan: Yeah. I asked him to make sure it’s okay. He said I probably wouldn’t find anything but he didn’t care.

Shane: You know him?

Ryan: No. He has social media, Shane. Anyway his entire extended family just up and leaves when he’s thirteen. No one really knows where they are though, or why they left.

Shane: Was it investigated?

Ryan: Yeah. There were no signs of struggle or forced entry in their house. It was just all of a sudden. Or any of the houses.

Shane: Poor kid… That’s horrible.

Ryan: No kidding.

Shane: Everyone left?

Ryan: Everyone who was directly related to his parents. So his aunts, uncles, cousins.

Shane: Grandparents?

Ryan: I think they might have already been dead when this was happening. I can’t imagine anyone letting that happen to their family and if they were the oldest… Any the next two years are a bit unclear, I think he was mostly staying in orphanages then.

Shane: Wait- so did the people who killed his parents… did they have to do with the rest of the family’s disappearance?

Ryan: Maybe. We’ll get to that. They do think that the Russian mob killed Vena and Edmon though. Ivan wasn’t able to identify anyone but he said he’s positive the mob had something to do with it. This will also be relevant later.

Shane: Isn’t it solved then?

Ryan: No. When he was fifteen he was taken in by a family in America. Everything was kind of quiet up until two years later when he would have been 17.

Shane: So is the mystery about this Ivan guy?

Ryan: Kind of. His parents too. You’ll see why.

Shane: What happened when he was 17? Also, what happened to all his parents' money and the rest of their stuff? Wouldn’t it have been given to him at that point?

Ryan: About the money, that’s actually part of one of the theories so I’ll get to that later. And about what was happening when he was 17… Some people following the case saw that he had gotten a tattoo. It’s a circle with a dot in the middle of it, it’s known as “The Roundstone.” It indicates the person is an orphan and it also is known to mean “Trust only yourself.”

Shane: Rough. But it’s really just a tattoo.

Ryan: Not any tattoo Shane. It is a common tattoo among vory v zakone, or, as they are better known, the Russian mob.

Shane. Wait. What?

The video shows them both at the table.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. “Isn’t it crazy?”

“So this guy says he thinks the Russian mob killed his family, and then he goes and joins them?”

“Maybe. Maybe he just likes the irony of it.”

“That’s…”

“I know. It gets weirder.”

“Of course it does.”

The screen goes to black and two pictures come on screen. One is labelled ‘Anatoly’ and the other is labelled ‘Vladimir.’

Ryan: Around the same time and after he was seen interacting with Anatoly Ranskahov and Vladimir Ranskahov, two very well known members of the Russian mob.

Shane: Couldn’t they have to do with his parents' murders though? Why would he be talking to them?”

Ryan: They couldn’t have killed his parents. When the Alexandrite’s were killed the Ranskahov’s would have been in jail, both on a three year sentence that they did, surprisingly, complete.

Shane: Why is it surprising?

Ryan: Because they later escaped a different prison in 2007 after only having been there for a few years and they still had quite a lot of time left on their sentences.

Shane: Strange.

Ryan: Yeah it is. Anyway, he was seen with known and suspected members a few times. At one point he was also seen with Oliver Queen, and not looking at all happy about it.

Shane: Does Oliver Queen have something to do with this? Ryan: It’s not likely, there isn’t enough evidence to prove that he does.

Shane: Where are you going with this?

Ryan: I’m getting there. About five years later he was seen leaving a mechanic where he supposedly worked at the time. Someone saw that he had a new tattoo, one that looked fresh.

Shane: Fresh? How does a tattoo look fresh?

Ryan: I don’t know. That’s what they said. Anyway, it’s of a cat wearing a hat-”

The video shows Shane laughing. “The cat in the hat?”

“No!” Ryan laughs too. “No. More like Puss in Boots.”

“Oh. So like Shrek.”

“Aah… Not quite. The cat that uses trickery and deceit to gain wealth and power. So. Not as cute as the ‘Puss’ from Shrek. It’s supposedly a traditional sign of the thieves, or vory.”

“So ‘vory’ is ‘thieves’ in Russian?”

“Yes.” “What’s ‘thief’ then?”

“…”

“What is it, Ryan?”

“I don’t want this to get demonetized. V-O-R. Figure it out yourself.”

“Oh. So this puss in boots is a Russian thief tattoo?”

“Supposedly.”

“You didn’t ask Ivan to confirm their meanings or if he even has them at all? Are there any pictures of these supposed tattoos?”

“I actually did ask. He does have the Roundstone one.”

“Well did he confirm its meaning?”

“Yes.”

“What about the cat in the hat?”

“No. He just said,” Ryan slides his phone across the table to show Shane, “and I quote, ‘LOL. Nope.’ and didn’t say anything else. Anyway, at the time he was leaving the mechanic he would have been about 22 years old.”

“So there are these random people creeping him on the internet?”

“I guess. Now on to the theories!”

The screen cuts to black. The words ‘Theory One’ come up on screen.

Shane: If you say this ten-year-old kid somehow orchestrated his parents murder-

Ryan: No! No. The first theory comes from Ivan himself and what the authorities suspect. He said he would use to hear his parents talk, talk about people who threatened them and what to do about it. He thinks the mafia was interested in his parents' money and they were threatening his parents into handing it over.

This is probably the most likely one considering how wealthy his parents were and neither of them had an extensive criminal record.

Shane: So the money… How would they have gotten it? What did they do for work?

Ryan: Right! Theory two then. Some people think at one point his parents were involved with, or part of, the mafia and that’s how they ended up so wealthy. They kept a lot of locked up documents in the offices. Some of them were even coded. Some people also think the stolen paintings might have had codes hidden in them and that’s why the mob chose to take those paintings instead of the others. It would also explain why they were killed- easiest way to shut someone up.

Shane: What about Ivan? Wouldn’t the ones he was with try to kill him?

Ryan: Not exactly. The Rusian mob’s hierarchy isn’t very well documented and it’s more… fluid, I guess, then other mafias are. The two groups might not even know each other.

Shane: So the Alexandrite’s were involved with the mob? Ryan: It’s possible. They’re dead so we can’t ask them, Ivan was too young to know which is why he might be alive, and no one would want to come forward with information since it would likely end with them in prison. Also, this case is still technically under investigation, it’s why Ivan can’t get any of his parents fortune. If it’s dirty blood money then the authorities would need to know that before handing it over to Ivan.

Shane: That’d be tough. Going through all that… So is Ivan part of the mob then? Ryan: I don’t know.

Shane: What about the will? Wouldn’t they have one? Especially since the mob was threatening them. And why wouldn’t they go to the police or invest in some sort of alarm system or security?

Ryan: That’s why people think they were once in the mob. And it wouldn’t be safe to raise a kid into a mob- which might be why they left. The video shows both of them still at the table. Ryan is looking at Shane. “What do you think Shane?”

“I think the mob was definitely involved in some way. Were those the only theories?”

“Yeah. It was hard to get my hands on anything else since it’s still an ongoing investigation.”

“Did they ask Ivan anything?”

“He didn’t really remember anything. A night like that would be traumatic to anyone, especially a little kid.”

“How old is he now?”

“About 25 I think.”

The screen shows pictures of the Alexandrite house and the surrounding houses.

Ryan: What happened that fateful night would turn into a lifetime of mystery and wondering. Anyone who truly knows what happened is now dead or won’t be coming forward. For now, this case is Unsolved.

The word ‘Unsolved’ in red bold letters appears on screen and fades away as the video shows Shane and Ryan.

“The mob definitely did it,” Shane says.

“Oh yeah.”

“Think they’ll ever find out who did it?”

“Probably. Who knows, maybe we’ll be coming back to this.”

“Maybe we will.”

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I plan on doing the Post Mortem Q&A for this so if anyone has any questions they'd like to ask feel free to do so in the comments. if you don't want me to use your username just put that in the comment too.

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bergarachan · 5 years ago

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just let me adore you (oh honey)

rating: T

summary: Ryan, a couple weeks after experiencing a shitty breakup, goes to a bar to take his mind off of things. He quickly realizes the bar is a gay bar. He also realizes that Shane has been hiding some things from him.

read on ao3!

or, read here:

Ryan Bergara had had a long fucking day.

A long fucking month, to be fair. He hadn’t really told anyone except for his roommates (because it’s hard to hide things from the people you live with), but he and his girlfriend had broken up after a year of being together. They realized together that the affection they were giving each other was just an imitation of romantic love. They wanted to love each other, but honestly, they only thought of each other as friends. It was a relieving and devastating realization for both of them. Ryan cried, he was miserable for a week or two, but after that, friends they had become. It was almost like nothing had changed, that he and Mari were almost meant to be friends. And that revelation had sent Ryan into a spiral of a questioning panic. Ryan had never experimented with guys before… but honestly? Feeling a man’s stubble scratch him while they kissed…shit. Ryan shuddered. Maybe he should go out, get his head out of the gutter for a bit.

Ryan texted Shane, his best friend, asking if he wanted to come. But the latter just texted back with a “busy, sorry lil guy!!!!!!!!!!!!” (yes, with that many exclamation points), so clearly he was going alone for the night.

He threw on a long brown coat over the current black turtleneck he had on, and he looked at himself in the mirror. Holy shit, he looked good. He usually just shoved on a tee-shirt and skinny jeans but recently since the break-up he had been experimenting with style and he realized just how much he liked to dress up. It was quite fun, actually. Running his hands in his hair one last time while looking in the mirror, he decided he looked good enough to go out.

He decided to go to a bar that somehow he hadn’t really gone to before, nor had he heard of. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too crowded; however, it was a Friday night so maybe he was pushing his luck. He booked an uber and was swiftly picked up and driven to the bar.

Walking in, he noticed something was a little different. The people seemed louder, more confident, more lively, which made him frown in confusion to himself as he sat down. He ordered a beer; the bartender gave him a wink as he handed it to Ryan, and Ryan tried very hard to hide the blush that appeared on his face at the action. Jesus, what was happening to him? He had just started questioning his sexuality and he was already blushing like a newborn flower.

“Hey, is that Ryan Bergara?!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him.

Ryan whipped around and, seeing the person in question, he smiled. Finally, some good fucking company. “Hey, Curly!”

Curly, who was wearing a very Curly-typical outfit, slid into the seat next to Ryan. “Hey, Ryry! Didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to a gay bar on a Friday night?”

Ryan was taking a sip of his beer and he nearly spat it out. “What?”

Curly frowned. “What?”

“This… this is a gay bar?” Ryan exclaimed. Curly chuckled a little in response, almost in disbelief.

“Was that not obvious, chico?” Curly asked, and watching Ryan shyly shake his head no, he smiled. “Oh, Ryan. Sweet, innocent Ryan. What would Mari say?” Ryan knows this was a complete joke, that Curly didn’t know, that he was just playing around and expected Ryan to laugh. But it kinda stung. Ryan immediately looked down to his lap.

“Oh. Uhm… actually,” Ryan stammered, “Her and I… we… split. About a month ago.”

Curly’s face immediately turned from playful to sympathetic. “Oh, no, Ryan…” And no, Ryan didn’t want to have this conversation.

“No, no… it was mutual. Besides… I’ve kinda been, uh, wanting to… experiment… lately?” He blushed as he said it out loud.

Curly’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Ryan smiled shyly. “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about it and…”

“You realized boys are actually really pretty and hot and you want to get that D?” Curly finished for him.

Ryan laughed, embarrassed, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I do, I guess.” He started to take a sip of his beer.

“It’s okay, mi principito,” Curly said, patting Ryan’s head as if he were a silly child. “We all knew you were a bottom, anyways.”

Ryan choked on his beer. “WhAT?” He coughed a couple times while Curly laughed, trying to regain the ability to breathe.

After laughing, Curly ignored him. “Anyways,” he turned towards the stage towards the back wall of the bar. “Usually on Fridays we have a music guest or two. I’ve come a couple times to listen, they’re usually really good.”

“Cool,” said Ryan. “When do they come on?”

“Around, like, eight, so in…” Curly checked his watch. “Ten minutes. You should stay and listen!”

Ryan shrugged. “Sure! It sounds like fun, and I’m planning on having a lot more beers than one tonight.” Curly laughed.

The two men talked for the next ten minutes, Curly asking lots of questions about Ryan discovering his sexuality, and Ryan answered as best as he could. It wasn’t a long story, really. After his breakup, he had just thought “Huh. Men are hot too. I should try dating one. I want a boyfriend. Wait what?” and that’s basically how it went. Curly asked Ryan if there were any guys he was interested in, and Ryan thought for a moment. As much as he didn’t really like to admit it, Shane was the first person that came to Ryan’s mind. Shane was always there for him, was there through his breakup with Helen, there through his recovery, supportive of him and Mari and their breakup respectively. He was there to care for Ryan when he felt down, they sang songs together, ran a show together, ran a goddamned business together, and not to mention, as much as Ryan hated it, Shane was hot. Ryan even caught himself staring at his scruffy beard, his shiny brown eyes, and the muscles he liked to pretend he didn’t have but definitely did have. Shane wasn’t fucking ripped like Ryan was (according to all his friends), but he had muscles. Shane was strong. And Ryan wondered what his strong hands would look like wrapped around Ryan’s ne- nope, nope, Ryan, you’re in public.

Choking kink aside, Ryan really did like Shane. Maybe Ryan even loved Shane. It wasn’t likely Shane had ever, or will ever feel the same back.

“What’re you thinking about, my friend?” Curly asked from beside him.

Ryan shook his head. “Nothing important.” It wasn’t important, really. Ryan would go on pretending he didn’t have feelings for Shane, just like he had probably been pretending for the past five years, and life would go on. Had it really been five years? Yeesh.

Curly looked like he was about to say something, but a loud mic feedback from across the room stopped them both. They turned their heads to a man at the mic. He had dark hair, smoothed back; but he also looked like he came here literally every day. He was wearing a hawaiian t-shirt, as you do, and worn-down jeans.

“Hey, everyone,” said the man as the people went quiet, “I’m Jared, I run this place. I hope you’re all having a great time so far.” He cleared his throat, then continued. “So, uh, today we have a musical guest. I think he should introduce himself actually, so…” He looked to his side, seemingly looking for someone standing at the side of the stage, then turned back. “take it away!” Jared exclaimed, and everybody started to clap. Ryan did, too.

Jared hastily came off the stage, and then another man walked onstage. He was wearing a white button-down, with the first couple of buttons undone, showing off his chest and collarbone. He wore black dresspants and clear framed glasses. He was tall and his hair was a light brown and his beard was neatly trimmed and oh my fucking god, that’s Shane. Ryan realized. His eyes widened like golf balls, and he turned to exchange a look with Curly, who’s eyes were equally as wide.

“Hey,” Shane said (oh my god, it’s fucking Shane) into the mic. “I uh, have a song to sing. I wrote it myself, actually.” The crowd cheered a little, and Shane laughed bashfully. “Yeah.”

As Shane continued talking to the crowd Ryan leaned into Curly and hissed, “Did you know anything about this?!”

Curly whispered back, “No, I would’ve told you. Holy shit, Ryan, he looks good.” And Ryan couldn’t argue with that. Jesus, Shane looked downright incredible in that outfit, and he must’ve gotten another haircut, because he looked like a sophisticated lawyer. For whatever reason, Ryan was into it.

“So, uh, this song is called ‘adore you’,” Shane continued, “It’s about one of my friends. He’s… he’s incredible, really. Inside and out. And, in our friendship we don’t get to, like, express our feelings a lot. It’s mostly jokes and bits. And… I wrote this when I was feeling emotional one day and I just wanted to tell him that- you know what? I’ll just sing it for you.” Shane cut himself off from his story, and in the back of his mind, Ryan wondered who the song was about. Shane had a lot of friendships that were more joking than emotional.

The band behind Shane started to play, and as the intro to the song faded in Shane vocalized with this “Ahh…” that was beautiful and controlled and incredible and how did Ryan not realize that Shane was that good at singing. It made Ryan’s heart do a flip-flop in his chest.

The drums kicked in, and Shane started to sing.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise Strawberry lipstick state of mind”

Holy shit. This song was lovely so far, in Ryan’s opinion. Whoever Shane had written the song about was the luckiest person in the world.

“I get so lost inside your eyes,” Shane continued to sing, “Would you believe it?”

“Never took Shane as a romantic,” Curly nudged Ryan in the shoulder, and Ryan shrugged.

“Me either.” Ryan dazedly wished it was him Shane was singing about. He’d pay good money to get a song as good as that, written just for him.

“You don’t have to say you love me You don’t have to say nothin You don’t have to say you’re mine honey,”

Ryan sighed, smiling. What a sap Shane was. Ryan always knew Shane was a sweetheart. He couldn’t wait to tease him about this.

The chorus kicked in, and Ryan’s breath caught. Shane sang this soft “ahhh” with backing harmonies from the band, and Ryan refused to believe Shane had that much talent. Maybe Ryan was less straight than he originally assumed.

“I’d walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you, oh honey, I’d walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do,” Shane gripped the mic stand with both his hands, started to tap with his feet, gaining a little bit of confidence as the crowd wooed a little bit. It made Ryan smile even wider to see Shane so happy, so relieved the crowd was enjoying what he’d made.

Shane started to sing the second verse. “Your wonder under summer skies Brown skin and lemon over ice Would you believe it?”

Curly nudged him again. “What?” Ryan asked. Curly just wiggled his eyebrows in response, causing Ryan to flush and shove him playfully. “Curly, you think he’s-? Oh god, dude, no. No. No.” Ryan giggled, embarrassed at the thought.

“I’m just saying,” Curly said, smug, and Ryan decided to give him a shove again.

“You don’t have to say you love me I just wanna tell you something Lately you’ve been on my mind,” The crowd had started to clap along with Shane’s song as the short instrumental in between the bridge and chorus started. Shane laughed bashfully, looking among the crowd of hands clapping. His smile fell ever so slightly as his gaze landed, consequently, on Ryan. Ryan’s breath hitched. Their eye contact was intense, full of an emotion Ryan couldn’t place. He quickly broke the eye contact by shyly looking down at his shoes. Shane’s voice didn’t waver, even if his expression did. He just continued to sing as beautifully as he ever had. The music faded to a simple base as Shane sang the chorus again,

“I’d walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Oh, honey,” The drums and guitar with the lovely melody and the rest of the instruments started to play again. Shane’s gaze flicked to Ryan’s again, and stayed there as he sang the rest of the chorus.

“I’d walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Oh, honey I’d walk through fire for you just let me adore you Like it’s the only thing i’d ever do,” Shane bounced along to the beat as the crowd started to clap again and cheer. Shane was smiling again, and this time the smile didn’t waver as he looked Ryan deep in the eyes and crooned, “Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do,”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. This song couldn’t be about him, it just couldn’t. Shane could never like Ryan. Ryan was… a lot, emotionally. Ryan’s face wasn’t as symmetrical as it could be. Ryan talked too much about sports, his smile was wonky, his-

And with the last kick of the bass drum, the song ended. The crowd, including curly, whooped and cheered and clapped, and Ryan swore he’d never seen Shane smile wider. Ryan clapped too, laughing and smiling. He felt like a proud mother, even though he literally had never seen Shane sing like that.

“Alright, well,” Shane gripped the mic again, and the crowd settled down. “That was a cheese-show, wasn’t it? Gross,” Shane was clearly joking, and the crowd laughed along with him, including Ryan. “Anyways, here’s a song I did not write. Here’s What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club.” The band started to play again, and the crowd cheered as Shane started to sing.

Shane sang a bunch more songs, the rest of them just being covers of other songs that Ryan knew Shane liked. Ryan was genuinely enjoying himself too, and so were the rest of the people in the bar. He even saw some of the bartenders bobbing their heads and tapping their fingers along to the beat of whatever song Shane was singing. Every once in a while, Shane and Ryan would make eye contact, Ryan would flush, and Shane would smile as if he knew something Ryan didn’t; a secret. It was exhilarating to see Shane look at him like that. Ryan didn’t want Shane to stop doing that.

Once Shane finished his last song, he said in the mic to the crowd, “That’s it for tonight, folks. I, uh, I don’t sing often in front of a crowd,” Unless you count creating and singing a song about moonlight and french fries in front of people, Ryan thought to himself, making himself smirk.”So this was really special for me. Thanks to the band back here,” He motioned to the band, and people started to clap, “And thanks for clapping along and stuff. This was fun. Goodnight, enjoy the rest of your night!” And with that, the band started to pack up and Shane walked off of the stage.

Ryan locked eyes with Curly, and they shared a smile. “Should we go up and see him?”

Curly nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, omigod, yes, I am going to tell him to get on the radio, oh my gosh, that was amazing!” He gushed, and grabbed Ryan’s hand and pulled him through the crowd to get to the side of the stage where Shane would be putting away his gear.

When they got to the side of the stage, Shane was standing there, fixing his hair (as if it didn’t look gorgeous already, Ryan thought) and Curly pushed Ryan forward, having him face Shane up close.

“Hey there, Ryan,” Shane said with a soft smile, as suave and as cool as ever, and Ryan couldn’t do anything but gaze up at him amazedly, knowing full-well he looked like a swooning 15 year old girl, and giggle a little bit. God, what was Shane doing to him? He had literally never reacted like this, and yet, after Shane’s whole show, seeing him singing like that, looking like that, dressed like that, Ryan really could do nothing but swoon in his presence.

“Uh, Shane?!” Curly gushed from behind Ryan, taking a step forward and saving Ryan from any more embarrassment. “That was incredible! I didn’t know you could sing like that?!”

“Oh, hey, Curly!” At Curly’s response, Shane blushed a little bit, rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, “Well, uh, yeah. I’ve been writing and singing for a while now, just never got the chance to, like, perform. I struck up a conversation with the guy who owns the place and he brought up the musical guest thing, I told him about my songs, and… yeah. It went from there.” Shane turned back to Ryan, “Now what I want to know, is what you’re doing here.”

Ryan blushed even more. Usually when he blushed it didn’t show too much under slightly dimmed lights like these and under his tanned skin, but he probably looked like an anime girl at this point. “I didn’t know it was a gay bar. Whoops.”

A short silence fell upon the three, and finally Ryan, feeling awkward, softly said, “You were incredible.”

Shane said, “You look incredible.” Ryan looked down, shy. Fuck Shane for making him so bashful.

“Hey, Ryan?” Shane asked. His brown eyes looked so deep, yet so bright and full of emotion.

“Yeah, big guy?” Ryan responded, breath taken away.

“Can we… head outside for a moment?” He looked to Curly for permission, and Curly, the bastard, nodded, a smirk growing on his face. Fuck you, Curly.

“Oh,” Ryan blinked, taken aback by the question, “Yeah. Of course. Sure.”

Shane led the way, and he and Ryan stepped outside the bar. The air was slightly chilly, the sky was dark, devoid of stars, and the wind blew slightly. Ryan shivered, and he felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder.

“Uh,” Shane started, and Ryan glanced at Shane. He seemed… nervous. He was looking at his feet, hands in his pockets. “So… the song… the one I sang in the beginning.” He said, looking unsure/

Ryan nodded, goading him on. “Yeah, that was such a beautiful song, Shane. Whoever you wrote it about is super lucky.” Oh, god, I just said that out loud. Of course. “Uh… it was really good. I liked it. A lot.”

Shane smiled at that, a beautiful smile that Ryan was glad to see on Shane’s face. “Remember when we were filming tourist trapped?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah?” He remembered it clearly. It was one of the best days of his 2019, hands down.

“I really loved those few days we were filming. It… it was amazing. I loved eating hotdogs and gin with you, going on stupidly scary roller coasters with you, hugging Snoopy with you,” That got a laugh out of both of them, “And it really was some of the greatest days of my life.” That makes two of us. “So… I got home, and… I wrote a song about it.”

Ryans breath caught. He couldn’t mean… “You…” Ryan stammered.

“Adore You is about you, Ry.”

Ryan’s face turned red. “Really?” He practically whispered. Shane nodded. “Shane…”

“Shh,” Shane shushed him, placing a hand on his cheek softly and swooping down to kiss Ryan.

Ryan gasped into the kiss, going still for a few moments before going Oh, yeah, your super hot super cute super sweet best friend is kissing you, you should probably kiss back, and kiss back he did. Shane wouldn’t let the kiss go beyond anything but chaste and sweet, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist to pull him closer as Ryan (on his tiptoes) wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck. “Shane,” Ryan sighed dreamily into the kiss, and Shane smiled against his lips in response.

When they finally broke apart for air, Shane smiled, pressing one last kiss to Ryan’s cheek. “Shane.” Ryan said, out of breath.

“Ryan.” Shane replied.

Ryan played with Shane’s collar. “Wanna go back inside?” He shot Shane with his classic puppydog eyes, glancing at him through his lashes. He knew Shane was a sucker for them, kiss or no kiss.

“If you insist,” said Shane, and the two went back inside, blushes on their cheeks and smiles on their faces. Ryan wondered what this meant for them. That kiss was something Ryan didn’t even know that he wanted, until tonight. He shook his head, deciding they’d discuss it later. Right now, he was happy, he was with Shane, and Curly, and this is where we wanted to be.

As they walked back inside, Ryan caught himself humming the ever-so-familiar tune,

just let me adore you, like it’s the only thing i’ll ever do.

#shyan #shyan fanfiction #belle writes #shyan fic

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readyourimgaines · 5 years ago

Text

Shayn-- Flirting Over Coffee

“You’re really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish it. Are you trying to look mature or something?”

Meets

Character A writes bad pickup lines on Character B’s coffee cup every time B goes into the coffee shop.

@tony-andonuts

Shane had been working at the “Grab a Cup Coffee Shop” for two years. He knew he was cliche. A gay drama major from a Midwest state moving to L.A. and working in a coffee shop. He preferred the warmth, the larger and more diverse population was amazing.

Everyday, for the past month, a short man who didn’t look totally white would come into the shop. Judging by the messenger bag he carries, he was a college student like Shane.

“Usual small black coffee?” Shane smiled.

“Yes, please.”

“I don’t know how you do it, buddy. I couldn’t drink black coffee if someone paid me to.” Shane tapped the iPad, following the prompts, to ring the man up. “M’kay. That’s $1.25.”

The man patted his pockets. “Do you uh… Do you take debit cards for that little?”

“We do not, but consider this one on the house,” Shane dismissed.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know you didn’t. Don’t worry.” Shane took a cup and pen so he could write on the side.

“You’re the barista that writes the godforsaken pickup lines on my cups, aren’t you?” Ryan smiled.

“That I am.” Shane wrote on the cup for another few seconds before turning it towards the man. “Today’s is: are you my appendix? Because the feeling you cause in my stomach makes me want to take you out.”

The man emitted a wheezed giggle. “Have I even told you my name?”

“You...You have not. But I-” Shane pointed at the name tag on his apron- “am Shane.”

“I’m Ryan.”

Shane held the cup out for Ryan to fill with a house brew of his choosing. “What do you think then, Ryan?”

“About what?”

“Me taking you out.” Shane was beaming.

“You’re serious about that? I thought you were joking around.” Ryan took a sip from his coffee and Shane couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, you’re really short and cute, and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish it. Are trying to look mature or something?” Shane didn’t have it in him to be bashful about his spewed confession.

Ryan blinked a few times as what Shane said started sinking in. He had been ordering black coffee as a lame attempt to impress the barista. Shane thought he was cute?

“When uh… When did you wanna go out?” Ryan finally managed to get out. He cleared his throat after he asked the question.

“I’ve got a class at noon that gets out at 2:00. I’m free after that.”

Ryan ran his own schedule through his mind. “That should work. I don’t have work today and my next is tomorrow at 9:00.”

“Oh! Where do you work?” Shane leaned forward on the counter. Ryan thought for a moment about how much such a drastic angle must hurt Shane’s back.

“I’m an intern at BuzzFeed. Not the best pay, but I’m hoping to get a job as a video editor right when I graduate.” Ryan scratched the back of his head.

Shane backed from the counter and opened the mini-fridge to get the milk out for Ryan. “Make your coffee drinkable, Little Guy.” Shane slid the sugar jar so it was beside the half carton of milk.

“Thank you so fucking much.” Ryan quickly scooped in two of the spoons of brown and added a splash of milk before stirring it in with one of the skinny black straws.

“Two sugars and a half milk,” Shane observed. “Noted. So, does 2:30 work for you? I can pick you up from...wherever?”

“I can make it easier on you and pick you up from your lecture hall,” Ryan offered.

“Someone’s thinking with their galaxy brain. The real question, though, is: what do want to do?”

“Wanna watch a movie at my place? I can get snacks-”

“I’m bringing popcorn. I’ve got so much of that shit in my dorm. My roommate's probably sick of the dorm always smelling like popcorn but I’ve been in that room for three years and she’s a freshie so she can fight me.”

Ryan laughed. “How’d you get dormed with a girl?”

“I’m in the LGBT mostly dorm building. She’s a lesbian and got in a fight with the girl was boarded with, my roommate--he’s bi--moved into his girlfriend’s dorm so I had an open bed,” Shane explained. “Do you not have a class? You’ve been in here for like 20 minutes.”

“I had three classes yesterday, and two tomorrow so I’m supposed to be doing homework today,” Ryan shrugged.

“Ah...three class days. I don’t miss those even a little bit. You’re a Freshie, then?”

“Yeah. I graduated high school in the Spring. College is a lot more different than the school guidance counselors made it out to be.” Ryan adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. “So what hall am I picking you up from?”

“You know where Keats is?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you by the front doors at 2:10?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ryan confirmed. He looked around and noticed how dead the place was. “It’s morning, I would have thought it would’ve been more busy.”

“Well, morning classes aren’t until 8:30, actual morning rush isn’t until 9:00 and people trickle in through the day. You just beat everyone else.” Shane filled a cup with coffee after lining the bottom of it with milk and $3 in the cash register. He took a sip. “How’d you get an internship at BuzzFeed if you’re a Freshman?”

Ryan chuckled. “I got amazing recommendations from my English and Computer teachers.”

Shane laughed. “You shouldn’t have any trouble getting hired there for real, then.”

“Yeah… I need to actually graduate college to get an actual position. Maybe I can join the AV Club for practice in editing or some shit.”

The bell over the door jingled and a few half-asleep college kids fumbled their way into the coffee shop.

“I’ll let you get back to work, Shane.” Ryan smiled again, stepping away from the counter.

“I’ll see you are 2:10,” Shane reminded.

“See you then, Legs.”

#combefere's journal #read your imagines #coffee shop au #shane madej imagine #ryan bergara imagine #ryan x shane #shyan #skeptic believer #bfu imagine #buzzfeed unsolved imagine

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blacktofade · 5 years ago

Photo

Taking a break from angst to write the fluffiest fluff. Enjoy, anon!

Ryan's a little bit addicted to Shane's stupid face. He shouldn't be, but there are a lot of things in his life he does despite his better judgement. Like when he finds out Shane is ticklish.

The first time happens by accident. Shane makes a sarcastic comment during their investigation, like he always does, and Ryan reaches out to jab him in the ribs. It's not hard enough to hurt, he knows, but Shane jerks to the side with a huff of laughter, his eyes crinkling in the way they do whenever he's endlessly amused. It’s so quick, it barely registers, but the flash of Shane’s teeth makes Ryan’s stomach swoop happily.

“Go away,” Shane complains, but still follows as Ryan leads the way into another room.

The second time is just to double check.

It’s the end of their night — TJ and Mark are packing equipment into the back of their rental, getting ready to leave for the hotel nearby while Shane and Ryan stay the night on location. Ryan’s still feeling on edge from a terrifying solo investigation in a basement with too many cobwebs and too many possible spirits.

Shane’s beside him, winding cable around his elbow, which means his ribs are exposed and Ryan has never pretended to be a strong man.

“Don’t drop it,” he jokes, really getting his fingers in there this time, giving a full tickle as Shane wiggles like he’s been electrocuted.

“You fucking — ” Shane gets out, voice pitched high as he immediately dissolves into laughter, dropping the cable just as expected. It unspools around their feet, but Ryan doesn’t care because Shane’s face does the cute, scrunchy thing and he immediately finds himself smiling in return. It’s too much, and still not enough.

Shane takes a step back, pulling out of his reach, and Ryan drops his hands back down, laughing as Shane rubs at his ribs like he’s trying to brush away Ryan’s phantom touch.

“I’m fucking what?” Ryan asks, partly to annoy Shane, but mostly because he deserves whatever Shane was about to call him.

“You’re fucking dealing with that cable,” Shane eventually tells him, his expression smoothing out as he stops laughing. “You’re an asshole.”

Ryan can tell from his tone that he doesn’t mean it, but Shane still nudges him with his shoulder as he brushes past him to start gathering up a few more bits of their equipment. Ryan reaches out, pretending that he’s going to try again, and Shane preemptively flinches and tucks his arms in to protect his sides.

“What’s the matter?” Ryan asks. “Are you ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Shane tells him, but Ryan just laughs again and leaves him alone.

The third time is on purpose.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” Ryan says as Shane climbs into bed. He’s in a soft pair of sweats and an old shirt that makes Ryan want to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

Shane pauses, halfway through folding the sheets around himself. When he looks up, his expression is wary.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he says, but Ryan can already guess what he means and starts reaching for him.

He wants a lot of things he can’t have, but for now, he can settle on watching the perfect shift of Shane’s expression as he braces for Ryan’s fingers, laughing before Ryan can even touch him.

“Don’t,” he warns again, but the second Ryan gets his hands on Shane’s ribs, Shane’s eyes crinkle and his mouth spreads into a wide, involuntary smile.

Ryan doesn’t tickle hard — he’s only trying to steal a quick laugh — but Shane reaches for his wrists, grabbing them tightly and tugging enough that Ryan’s fingers wiggle against air instead.

“There’s going to be another ghost in this place if you don’t stop,” Shane threatens and Ryan snorts.

“Are you admitting there’s already one here?”

Shane frowns and begins to protest, which distracts him from trying to keep Ryan at bay and allows Ryan another quick tickle before his hands are tugged away again.

“Stop,” Shane insists around a laugh, shifting his weight enough to be able to push Ryan over, forcing him flat on his back on his side of the bed. Ryan lets out a soft exhale of surprise and tries — without much success — to free himself from Shane’s grasp.

“No, no,” Ryan replies. “We should talk about this.”

“I’m not admitting to anything.”

“Are we talking about the ghost or you being ticklish?”

“Both,” Shane complains, making Ryan laugh.

“If you admit to them, I’ll stop.”

“That’s extortion.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “But that’s my price.”

“This is a serious investigation,” Shane says instead, but Ryan shakes his head as he looks up at him.

“Don’t even try it,” he warns. “You’ve never ever taken these investigations seriously.”

“Okay, I promise to take the next investigation seriously. In exchange, you have to stop tickling me.”

“Because you’re ticklish?” Ryan asks, but Shane gives him a flat look and doesn’t reply. Ryan moves his arms just to test Shane’s grip and see if he’s still paying attention, but Shane’s fingers tighten around his wrists.

“Pulling pigtails is so late nineties,” Shane tells him after a pause, and Ryan blinks.

“Pigtails? Like a kindergartner with a crush?”

Shane leans down, close enough to Ryan’s face that Ryan’s eyes almost cross, and asks, “Isn’t that what it is?”

Ryan swallows. He thinks Shane’s still just trying to get a rise from him, but for once, he can’t tell what Shane might be planning. He’s usually so stupidly obvious, but Ryan can’t think when he’s so close. Which is what he’s going to blame everything on when all of this is over.

He moves before Shane can, and it’s about as impulsive as the tickling — he wants a reaction, wants to see what will happen. It’s not a good decision in the slightest, but it’s the one he settles on.

Shane’s mouth slackens with surprise the moment Ryan kisses him, his hands releasing Ryan’s wrists, and it’s all too easy to reach down and find Shane’s ribs again.

Ryan wants to memorize the feeling of Shane’s lips shifting into a grin against his own, but just as quickly as it happens, Shane draws back, and when Ryan opens his eyes, he gets a close-up view of Shane’s scrunched face as he laughs.

“You’re a dick,” Shane tells him, his laughter dying off as he rubs at his ribs. “Was that just a distraction technique?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan answers honestly, “but it definitely worked.”

“If it wasn’t a distraction, then what was it?”

Ryan laughs. “Last I checked, that’s what they call a kiss. Didn’t you learn anything in clown school?”

Shane’s mouth thins like he’s trying to think up a retort, but after staring down at Ryan for a beat longer than comfortable, he says, “Fine.”

Ryan isn’t expecting him to lean down and close the distance between them again, but that’s what he does — kissing Ryan before it can register that it’s happening. It’s soft and quick and makes Ryan’s heart thunder in his chest. When Shane pulls back, Ryan clears his throat.

“Was that a kiss?” he jokes, even though he can barely put two thoughts together that aren’t just Shane and kissing.

“No, it was a distraction.”

“For what?”

Ryan realizes far too late that Shane’s hands have shifted to his sides, and he doesn’t have enough time to wriggle away before Shane’s fingers dig in, tickling him in return.

“No, no,” Ryan warns, but he can’t do anything but wheeze, unable to catch his breath as Shane shows no mercy. It’s only fair, he supposes, but it’s a bitter pill to swallow when he can’t draw in air.

“What?” Shane asks above the noise of Ryan’s laughter. “Are you ticklish?”

“Shane,” he pleads and Shane stops for only a moment, peering down at him, giving Ryan just enough time to grab his wrists.

“You mean you can give it, but you can’t take it?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Ryan tells him, because he’s not sure if Shane’s still talking about the tickling.

“It is,” Shane agrees. “Should we go back to the distracting?”

“Fuck yes,” Ryan replies and it’s easy to drag Shane down for another kiss.

It’s longer and sweeter, and honestly, Ryan’s willing to ignore how vulnerable and exposed Shane’s ribs are, if only so he can deepen the kiss. It’s a momentary truce, but he knows there will be plenty of time for tickling in the future.

#shyan #thing wot i wrote #fic #bfu prompts 2019 #lovely anon #answer #bfu

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automatic-external-defibrillator · 5 years ago

Text

My Best Friend, the Demon 2/4

Hey I'm back! I had to rewrite part of this, because a friend of mine told me that Iblis in Islamic Demonology is basically Satan, so I changed his name. Thanks for understanding! With part 2! Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE SHYAN!!!

One flight to Mexico later, the two met up with Pepe Hernandez, someone from Buzzfeed Mexico that was to help them at the Island. After the short boat ride, Ryan, Shane, and Pepe stepped foot onto the ever creepy Island of the Dolls. Ryan recounted the history of the place while Shane panned the camera around, commenting on the ape wearing sunglasses and the deranged Barbie. They explored the area as the sun set, Ryan keeping an eye out for any other ghosts wandering the place. The area was rather compact, so when Ryan didn’t see anyone, he didn’t think much of it. The only ghost that was allegedly there was the ghost of the guy who started the doll shrine.

Ryan shuddered and Shane eyed him curiously. “You alright there, Ryan?”

“Yeah,” Ryan replied, “just a bit unnerved by the spiders.” He wasn’t technically lying, he was unnerved by the spiders, he just wasn’t telling the full truth either. Pepe approached the two.

“You guys think he fucked the dolls? Can I say that?” Pepe inquired, causing both of the demons to laugh. Just then, a spider dropped down on to Pepe’s shoulder, in which he shouted, “Oh shit!”

The three booked it to the boat, attempting to avoid all the spiders on their way there. As Ryan ran, he squeaked because he got too close to a spider for comfort. Shane found it absolutely adorable. The ray of sunshine is terrified of spiders, but he had to worry about almost being decapitated by the strings the dolls were hanging from. Sometimes he really hated his height.

The three hosts, along with the rest of the crew, got back on the little boat and headed back to the dock to call it a night and fly to Atchison, Kansas to film at the Sallie house the day after next. Shane and Ryan thanked Pepe for joining them and the crew headed to the airport. Neither of the two hosts were tired, as the two didn’t really need sleep, but they both pretended to sleep anyway.

~~~

The duo walked up to the front door of the alleged demon house and Ryan was on the brink of a panic attack. Shane, however, was enjoying messing around and walked up to the front wall, taking a selfie. “What up, I’m taking a selfie with some demons yo!” Shane drew out the “yo”.

Ryan deadpanned as his friend, looking like he might kill him. If only Shane knew the real demon was right next to him. Ryan wanted to shake him by the shoulders and show him the world he could see. Letting him know that everyone he was messing with was real. He tried not to blow a fuse.

Much to Ryan’s obliviousness, Shane was laughing really hard at the fact that he was the demon in the selfie. He spared a glance at his partner, who looked about ready to kill a man, and rolled his eyes. He wanted to tell Ryan about the fact he was a demon, but he wasn’t about to risk both his secret and his friendship with the sunshine boy. This was the one human Shane wasn’t going to purposefully push away.

Ryan opened the door to the house and stepped in. He knew the moment he passed through the threshold that they weren’t the only ones here. The demon lurking in this home was allegedly in the basement, but the two weren’t going down there until the psychic arrived. Waiting for the psychic, his name was Eric, the two hung out in the living room. “Do you know how much a place like this would cost in California? An arm and a leg!” Shane mentioned, surveying the immediate building. Ryan just sighed as Eric approached the door.

They explored the upstairs nursery, nothing happened, and went down to the kitchen. Eric placed a flashlight on the counter and asked, “If you like the guys staying here, turn the light on.” The light stayed off, so Shane started calling out to it in a funny voice as Ryan looked on in horror. Shane then walked over to the light, much to Ryan’s dismay and that’s when Ryan saw the figure in the shadows. “If you don’t like us, turn it on.” The light turned on. Ryan screamed.

Ryan wasn’t scared of the light turning on, but of what turned it on. There, standing in the shadows, was a demon, higher up on the caste system than Ryan was. Ryan had a spade tail, and this demon had a diamond. The demon was more powerful than Ryan was, meaning that he couldn’t protect Shane or the others from him. The demon smiled. Ryan’s eyes went black for a moment before shifting back to their normal brown. Shane and Eric continued to ask the demon questions as Ryan continued staring and screaming in fear.

Shane, on the other hand, was well aware of the other demon in the room. He laughed, making it seem like he was laughing at the flashlight. He knew the demon was weaker than him. All demons were. There was no tail shape higher up than he was, as he was next in line as supreme ruler of hell. The lightning-tailed demon kept laughing, confusing the diamond-tailed one. He sent a warning look it’s way when he went and stood behind Ryan. The demon didn’t seem to get the memo, so Shane made a mental note to talk to him on his own at some point before they tried to sleep.

They eventually moved to the basement, Shane got to lie on a pentagram, Ryan freaked out some more, and then the two were left to their own devices for the night to sleep in the living room. Ryan mostly stayed on the computer doing whatever to distract himself from the certain doom that awaited the two that night. Shane found this as his opportunity to go threaten the lower-class demon into submission.

Shane snuck away to the basement where this demon was likely hiding, as that’s where all the wiring was. He found him in his hole in the wall of the basement. The other demon spoke first. “Well, if it isn’t the demon who isn’t scared of a higher rank.” Shane scoffed.

“There’s no higher rank than me, so bow down, bitch.”

The diamond-tailed demon didn’t look convinced. “The only rank higher than me is lightning and there’s no way in hell you’re Satan.”

Shane just laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. The laughter became lower and reverberated throughout the room as he slowly changed into his true form. His skin changed to an ashen gray, his horns akin to that of a viking helmet, large black and red wings curled loosely around his shoulders, and his eyes turning a swirling storm of black and warm tones of red, orange, and yellow, looking as if there were a fire in his eyes. His tail was a fine black line, just like every other demon’s, except his had a lightning bolt at the end of it, instead of a diamond, like the one in front of him, a spade, like Ryan’s, or a crescent.

“You’re right. I’m not Satan,” when Shane spoke, his voice was two octaves deeper than before. “I’m his son.”

The demon’s eyes widened at the sight, and he immediately knelt down. “I’m sorry, Silver. I didn’t know.” Shane, or Silver, cast a condescending look down at the pathetic sight in front of him.

“Stand,” Silver commanded. The demon stood. “State your name.”

“Carnivale,” The demon, Carnivale, stated, not looking Silver in the eye. Silver growled at him.

“I’ll leave you alone on one condition.” Iblis nodded, slightly too enthusiastically, at the notion of getting out of being punished. Silver grabbed Carnivale’s chin, forcing him to look Silver in the eye as he spoke. “You are to leave me and my human companion, Ryan, alone for the rest of time. He’s already scared shitless because of you. If you don’t, I will wrap you up in a little ribbon and deliver you to Satan, personally.”

Carnivale’s eyes widened slightly, curious as how the Prince didn’t know about how his friend wasn’t human at all, but agreed. Silver let go of the demon, reverting back to his human form. Carnivale slunk back to his hole as Shane ascended the staircase to the main level.

Ryan was still on the computer, completely oblivious to the fact that Shane had even left, until Shane cleared his throat.

“We should probably go to bed, it’s getting late,” Shane told him.

“Yeah, we probably should,” Ryan stated, and the two headed to sleep.

At three in the morning, Ryan was so scared of not being able to protect anyone that he couldn’t take it and made Shane leave, much to Iblis’ delight. Shane chalked it up to just being scared of a “possible” demon presence.

Ask if you wanna be tagged for part 3!

#buzzfeed unsolved #demon!ryan #demon!shane #shane madej #buzzfeed shane #demon shane #shane buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed ryan #demon ryan #ryan bergara #ryan buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved fic #long post

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poorreputation · 5 years ago

Text

That Being Said, So Get This

A Supernatural-Buzzfeed: Unsolved Crossover! All part of the @cocklesdestielfiction Cockles-Destiel Crazy Crossover Challenge! (and @verobatto-angelxhunter)

To read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960567

Wordcount: 6390

Ship: Destiel

Rating: Teen and up

Any kind of warnings: canon-typical violence. If you watch either show, you should be fine. Also, lots of in-jokes. Maybe too many in-jokes.

Also: contains SPN S14 Spoilers

Summary:

What happens when Buzzfeed: Unsolved and Supernatural are set in the same universe! Ryan Bergara, the believer. Shane Madej, the skeptic. The Winchester Brothers- serial killers? And whatever happened to James Novak?

Story below the cut!

Ryan Bergara waits for the sound engineer's cue, then begins reading aloud from his script, "In June of 2008, James 'Jimmy' Novak disappeared, leaving behind wife Amelia and daughter Claire. Just a few years later, in 2010, Amelia vanishes, as well. Jimmy is reported to have been spotted a handful of times since then, but what could have lead a loving father and husband to vanishing from the face of the earth? And what prompted his wife to join him?"

A pause, a second reading of the same paragraph, and then Ryan continues, "The Novaks were known for their devout faith and regular church attendances. According to close friends and family, Jimmy became a zealot in the months leading up to his disappearance, saying that he'd gained the ability to 'talk to Angels'. It's said this put a great strain on his and Amelia's marriage. But, is this what caused him to leave? Did he even leave under his own will?"

More details are fleshed out, more takes are made, until Ryan reaches his favorite part of every Unsolved episode, "That being said, let's get to the theories. Our first theory builds off of Jimmy's known fanaticism. That he had become convinced he could talk to, and become a vessel for, Angels, and so left his family to fulfill his mission to god. This, however, does not explain what happened to Amelia, or why she disappeared so long after her husband.

"Our second theory is more far-fetched, and comes mostly from the internet rumor-mill. Over the years, there's been alleged sightings of Jimmy Novak, not only nationally, but internationally, as well. He's most controversially been claimed to have been spotted with infamous serial killers, Sam and Dean Winchester. Coupled with this is the idea that Jimmy and Dean are romantically connected, which people cite as to why Jimmy left his family in the first place, and that Amelia didn't disappear while looking for Jimmy, but was, in fact, killed by Dean. And, for the record, I think this is horseshit."

Ryan looks up to see the sound engineer silently howling with laughter, which puts a dumb grin on his own face, "But wait, it gets worse!"

Clearing his throat, and fighting to keep a straight face, Ryan continues, "Our third and final theory is that Jimmy and Amelia weren't running towards anything, but away from someone. That someone? Their 10 year old daughter Claire, who some, as in the internet, claim is a Demon-" Ryan breaks off his sentence, laughing so hard he gives himself the hiccups, "This is gonna be our worst episode, ever."

3 WEEKS LATER

Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej step out of one of two rental vans, as the rest of the crew starts to unpack. Shane, the taller of the two hosts, stretches his arms, "God, it's good to get out."

Ryan doesn't respond, looking on at the location for that week's episode. His stomach aches just from the sight of it.

"You all right there?" Shane asks, "Breakfast making a reappearance?"

"Nah, just." Ryan shakes his head, "The cases with murder always get me. So fucking creepy."

"Yup." Shane claps his shoulder, leading the way to the front door.

The house is a single story home, very modern, less than ten years old. Only one family had lived in it, and now it's vacant. The lawn is trimmed, as it's the least the city can do, but the walls, windows and porch are filthy. Items deliberately thrown at the windows are dry and caked on, and Ryan can just picture kids in costumes throwing eggs at the house on Halloween, probably on a dare.

Shane fishes out the keys from his pocket, waits for their cameraman to give them the thumbs-up, and unlocks the door. Motioning for Ryan to go first, Shane gives a cheeky bow.

"Alright, whatever." Ryan mutters.

Everyone filed in, lighting tested and cleared, Ryan begins. He walks into the living room, Shane just a pace behind, and soaks in the scene. The furniture is gone, a light fixture and a bookshelf are all that remain. trying to recall the grisly crime scene photos, Ryan waves hand where the couch should have been. "In August of 2011, Marianne Wyatt and her three boys sat in this area, as someone came up behind them, and shot them, one after the other. They'd been bound, unable to escape, and-" Ryan blinks, nausea overwhelming him, "And a few days later, the father, Marianne's husband, Phil, was found dead. His death ruled a suicide, no note was ever found. Police couldn't prove it, but the theory was that Phil killed his family, and then himself. No one knows why."

"Neighbors on either side said they heard nothing?" Shane says, prompting Ryan out of his daze.

"Heard no screams, no shots. Police couldn't even pinpoint the wife and kids' time of death." Ryan nods, "I think I need some water."

The cameraman shoots some B-roll as Ryan sits, one of the producers handing him a water bottle. "thanks." Ryan nods, as he takes a swallow.

There's rumbling outside, followed by one of the crew commenting, "whoa, look at that ride!"

"Sweet car." the boom operator quips.

Shane looks out the window, "Eh, too obnoxious for my tastes."

"That's a '67 Chevy Impala." the first crew member replies, "You have no taste."

Several people, including Shane, laugh at this, and leaves Ryan with an odd sense of deja-vu. Maybe if the room would stop spinning, he could figure out what it is.

With Ryan looking so sick, the rest of the crew agree to break for the day. Shane drives Ryan to a gas station to get the sickly man some medicine and a Sprite to calm his stomach. Feeling much better, Ryan stays back for a bit to check out the souvenirs the store has to offer, "We could get a hat, or maybe something small like a shot glass."

"Or, we can get gas station nachos!" Shane grins, his smile only getting broader as Ryan pales at the thought, "And here I thought you were a hardened pro, Ryan Bergara."

"It might just be food poisoning." Ryan replies, thumbing through some key chains. A car pulls into the lot, loudly announcing its presence, and Ryan has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "What's it with people around here and their shitty mufflers?"

"Oh, that's not very fair." Shane replies, the sarcasm lightly sprinkling his words, "I mean- look! -it's the same car from earlier. You shouldn't make such generalizations."

Ryan peers up as they start walking towards the cashier, as the black, classic car comes to a stop, the engine cutting off a second later. Ryan's eyes widen, as he remembers where he's seen this car before. He shakes his head, willing his heart to slow down. As Shane pays for their stuff, Ryan can't resist the urge to try and catch a glimpse of the car's owner. Just to reassure himself, nothing more. However, by the time Shane's ready to leave, the driver of the Impala has already gotten back in the car.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, save for the radio tuned into some local station. It's a sports station, and Ryan feels it's a nice gesture Shane put it on for him, but Ryan just can't concentrate. He can feel Shane glance his way every now and then, and as he pulls into the hotel parking lot, "Hey, if you're really feeling that bad, I'm sure we can find an Urgent Care, around here."

Ryan shakes his head, "It's not that."

"What's on your mind?"

Ryan stares out the window as Shane parks the rental, "Reading up on all of these cases, it makes ya kinda paranoid after a while."

Shane laughs, "You don't have to be so serious about it."

"No, really. The car we saw earlier? It reminds me of the episode we filmed a few weeks back. The Novaks, remember?"

"I don't recall the devout Christian couple driving a muscle car."

"Right." Ryan nods, "I'm an idiot, I didn't include it in the script, but it's the car Dean Winchester's known to drive."

"So? It's a 'classic car', I'm sure a ton of people drive it."

"But it was in front of the Wyatt house, earlier."

Shane gives a single shrug, "Maybe it's a fan. There was a data breach, last week. Someone could've leaked the location of this week's episode."

Ryan has to admit to himself, Shane's reasoning does make him feel better, "You're probably right."

Dean steers the Impala into the motel parking lot, as Sam sits next to him, reading from his phone, "Marianne Wyatt and her kids are buried together at Eternal Rest Cemetery. Phil, however, was cremated."

"But, a man is reported to be seen in the house?" Dean asks.

"That's right." Sam confirms.

"Some personal items of Phil's still there?"

Castiel speaks up from the backseat, "House was empty when we searched it earlier, save for some signs of 'squatters'." he answers, using air-quotes, "Have we considered the possibility of the spirit not being Phil Wyatt?"

"No one else has lived in the house, let alone died here." Sam says.

"What if Phil's suicide was staged?" Castiel poses, "The wife and children are killed, the husband's taken hostage for insurance. Something goes wrong, Phil is murdered, and it's staged as a suicide."

"There wasn't any physical evidence tying Phil to the murders." Dean agrees, "Could've been a set-up. It'd also make sense why he'd be a vengeful spirit."

"Again, we don't know it's Phil, or what's tying him, there." Sam sighs, "It feels like we're going in circles."

"If not Phil Wyatt, then what? The killer?" Dean asks, "Unless the guy died in the house, why would he be stuck?"

Castiel thinks, "Maybe the real killer has something from this crime. Kept it one his person, even in death."

"So, the 'real' killer's stuck in someone else's house?" Dean shakes his head, "This shit's giving me a migraine, god."

Entering the motel, Sam gets to work researching any possible leads on the Wyatt murders, as Dean hops in the shower, and Castiel is left standing in the middle of the room. After a minute of tense silence, Sam takes the bait, "What's wrong, Cas?"

"The beds look disgusting." Castiel practically spits, not in harsh judgement, but genuine concern. Sam looks over at what he's talking about, and sees the usual grimy, cheap motel pillows and comforters. Both beds have old, faded stains, and minute tears. Sam figures Castiel being without powers makes him more sensitive to cleanliness, or lack thereof, more than as an Angel.

"Don't know what you want me to do about it." Sam sighs, "I'm sure they're just old."

"I think I want to sleep out in the Impala." Castiel mutters.

Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes, "Ask Dean for the keys when he gets out, then."

Castiel resorts to standing awkwardly in the corner, as Sam does his best to just research the Wyatt murders. By the time Dean returns to the main room, back in his old, sweaty clothes, making the shower seem entirely pointless, Sam stumbles upon some interesting information.

"Hey. So, get this," Sam calls the other two men over, "There was this leak at the Buzzfeed headquarters, some of it revealing the Unsolved guys' sites for the new season."

Castiel stares blankly at him. Dean sees this and goes, "It's a couple of assholes on the web who mess with ghosts and Demons. Sam, being the serial killer fanboy he is, is obsessed with their true crime series."

"I'm not a fanboy."

Dean mutters to Castiel, "Yes he is."

"The reason I bring it up," Sam presses, "is because this week, they're covering the Wyatt murders."

Dean pauses, "Wait, that camera crew we saw earlier-?"

"Looks like it's Buzzfeed."

Castiel leans over, peering at the computer screen, "The- the disappearance of the Novaks?"

Sam and Dean turn, and confirm Castiel’s observation, "Oh, my God."

"I mean," Dean starts, "There's more than one Novak out there, you know?"

"From Pontiac, Illinois?" Sam asks.

Dean frowns, "Well, I guess that means you can't meet your idols, Sammy."

Sam scoffs at this, "They're probably gone by now, anyway. They never stay in a location for longer than a day."

"Let's use caution when going back, regardless." Castiel says, turning to Dean, "May I stay in the Impala, tonight?"

Dean, flustered and blushing, replies, "What's wrong with in here? Afraid to share the bed? I was gonna make Sam sleep on the floor, anyway."

Sam feels a part of his soul wither away from the second-hand embarrassment.

"This room is filthy, and I don't want to stay here." Castiel answers.

"That's just character." Dean mumbles, taking out his keys, "Fine. Whatever."

After Castiel shuts the front door, Sam braces himself for Dean's inevitable angsty tantrum, "He didn't have to be so rude. We stay in places like this all the time! Sure, none of these rooms come with a third bed, so maybe he was afraid to bunk with one of us, especially you." Dean points at Sam, "You kick in your sleep. In fact, I was just gonna make you sleep on the floor, with you being the youngest and everything."

Sam wonders how close the nearest liquor store is.

At midnight, Dean can't help himself but to check on Castiel. He needs a good excuse though, so he grabs the remainder of the six pack, all that Sam didn't drink, and heads out into the dimly lit parking lot.

Dean can tell from some distance away that Cas is still awake. The Impala's interior is alight, and as Dean nears he can see Cas in the backseat holding up a book. Reaching the car, Dean knocks on the window, then lifts the cans of beer when Castiel glances up. Castiel moves to unlock the door, and without invitation Dean scoots in, ignoring how close-quarters the situation is, and offers Castiel a drink. Dean's so preoccupied with not brushing up against Castiel in any way, that he forgets to actually say anything.

"Did you need something?" Castiel asks, opening the can with a pop.

Dean, suffering from a brain-fart, "Just, uhm, checking in."

The awkward silence is so palpable, Dean feels like he's about to choke, "So, this place can get pretty uncomfortable. Did you, er, want a pillow? Or something? Blanket?" he says, sweating profusely.

Castiel points to the front seat, "I already have a pillow, thank you."

Dean gives a high-pitched hum, and, with little to add, exits the car.

Back in the motel, "I think Cas is upset." Dean says as he closes the door, "He doesn't want to be in the same room as m- us," he looks up at Sam, who's doing his best to ignore his older brother at the moment, "You think he's still mad about the whole 'you're dead to me' thing?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "Gee, what could ever give you that impression."

"I was just being angry!" Dean starts to pace, right as Sam's head starts to pound, "I yell at you sometimes, and you know I don't mean it!"

"I've known you for 36 years, I think I've picked up on that." Sam deadpans, "Maybe, and here's a novel concept, you tell Cas that yourself?"

"I don't know, I think you-"

"No." Sam presses, "I'm not gonna be the messenger between you guys. You want to patch things up with Cas, do it yourself."

In the morning, after a full night of not resolving their issues, Castiel returns to the motel from a coffee run. Wordlessly passing around three cups, the group huddles around Sam as he gets ready to show them his recent findings.

Ryan and Shane return to the Wyatt house first thing in the morning, the crew waiting for them out front. Working off of nothing but coffee and toast, Ryan's ready for take two. They enter the house, set up their equipment just like the day before, and get situated.

"There's one suspect, outside of Phil Wyatt himself, police posit committed these crimes" Ryan says, "And since the guy's dead, it'll remain as speculation."

"Victor Myers was the personal assistant to a business mogul." Sam begins, "He traveled frequently, mainly within the United States. Occasionally, he would go into the next town over, pick a target, and kill them. The longer he did this, the bolder he got."

Ryan says, "Victor started off killing one, then two people at a time. After a couple of years, he found his rhythm in killing families and making it look like a break-in." he looks around the vacant living room, a chill going down his spine.

"He wrote about some of his kills," Sam continues, "but it's suspected he took many more lives, around 30, at least. He died of a stroke, four years ago. Police only knew of the murders after searching his home and DNA evidence. The deaths of the Wyatts are thought to be connected to Myers, judging by Victor's whereabouts at the time and the nature of the kills, but obviously the police can't pursue it."

"So, we're dealing with the ghost of a serial killer?" Dean asks.

"Serial killers are known to keep 'trophies' of their victims." Castiel adds, "It could be what's tying him to the house."

Sam's eyes widen, as he lifts up the laptop for everyone else to see, "Maybe not."

Castiel tilts his head to the side, "The events began before Victor's death?"

"So," Dean asks, "Who's haunting?"

"The thought of Victor Myers being behind these killings seems like a no-brainer," Ryan says, "but it doesn't have everyone convinced. Personally, I think the cops here know it's the truth, but don't want to go through the trouble of proving Myers did it."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Shane nods in agreement, "Too much paperwork."

After filming, the cast and crew pack their things, and get ready to leave the Wyatt house, and the small suburban town, for the last time. Ryan can't help but breathe a sigh of relief; the suffocating feelings he'd had the day before weren't as strong, now, but they were still incredibly unpleasant. At the threshold of the once occupied home, he turns back to the empty rooms that echoed their steps and voices, "If there's a Victor around here, you can kindly fuck off."

Shane shrugs his bag higher up on his shoulder, "The camera's are off, buddy. No idea what you're trying to prove."

"That there's a thick and toxic presence in the house?" Ryan asks, shutting the door behind him, "One that we'll never have to deal with again?"

Shane groans, "It's True Crime season, Ryan. The one season where you and I are on the same page. And you have to make it about your spooky stories."

"Most murders have some whisper of the supernatural to them." Ryan replies, "I just don't always bring it up. This time I did. So, there."

Shane shakes his head, "What an active imagination you have."

Dean methodically checks all of their weapons, handing each item one-by-one to Sam for packing. Their gear, stored in two duffels, is almost ready to go, Sam zipping up the first bag and readying the second. Castiel does a once-over of their motel room, as after they're done with the Wyatt house, they're heading straight out of town; all three men agreed, with the extra attention on them from those 'paranormal investigators' from Buzzfeed, it wouldn't be smart to linger.

An hour later, Dean gathers everyone around, "We'll park the Impala a block from the house, walk the rest of the way. Someone spots the car, they won't automatically know where we are. Ready?" a nod from Sam and Castiel, "Right, let's go."

Flight not until mid-morning, the crew decide to treat themselves to some drinks at the local bar. A couple of rounds in, Shane returns from the bathroom and says to the group, "Hey, guys, I forgot to leave the key at the house. Can one of y'all drop me off?"

Ryan, who's only had one beer, raises his hand, "Got ya covered."

A minute later, both men are back in the rental, driving down that familiar street. Ryan pulls up to the curb, front passenger's door lined up with the sidewalk leading to the house. Shane steps out, then looks back at Ryan, "Aren't you coming?"

Ryan blinks, "Why would I?"

"Make sure I get to the door safely. For goodness' sake, Ryan, if I can't drive myself, what makes you think I can walk straight."

"Bullshit, you just want me to go near that house."

Shane's face splits into a wide grin, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Get it over with." Ryan says, climbing out of the car.

With more than a little swagger to his step, Shane leads the way. Both men, however, stop in their tracks as a crashing sound is heard, coming from within the house.

Ryan doesn't dare blink, "What-?"

One of the lights turns on. Ryan recognizes it as being the bedroom window.

"Well." Shane says, "Leave a door unlocked for a few hours, and this is what happens." Ryan doesn't miss the note of unease in the other man's voice. Unbelievably, Shane continues to walk towards the front door.

"What are you doing?!" Ryan hisses.

"Well, we should probably kick them out." Shane explains, as if it were obvious.

"No, we call the cops."

"You do that, then."

Ryan pulls out his phone as Shane foolishly enters the house. Before Ryan can pull up the keypad, he hears Shane exclaim, "Holy shit!"

Ryan can't help it, "What's wrong?" Not waiting for an answer, feet with a mind of their own, Ryan walks through the darkened doorway.

More crashes are coming from one of the other rooms, people yelling, grunting, as Ryan turns on his phone's light. All along the walls of the living room are pentagrams, the smell of spray-paint permeating the air, making Ryan dizzy. He can feel his hands start to shake, and he thinks he's gonna puke.

Shane turns to him, pale in the light, "We should leave."

The bedroom door shakes, the voices on the other side increasing in volume until-

-silence.

Simultaneously, the front door slams shut as the one to the bedroom swings open, bouncing off the wall and sending small chunks of plaster flying. It takes a moment for Ryan's eyes and mind to come to the same conclusion, that within the room, standing around the body of a man, crumpled on the floor, are three men. It takes a second longer for Ryan to realize who these men are.

The eyes of infamous killers Sam and Dean Winchester, and missing person James Novak, stare back at them.

Shane runs to the front door, trying for the lock. The door wiggles and shakes against the frame, and Ryan can tell it's not budging. "Come on, COME ON!" Shane grunts.

"That's not gonna work." Dean Winchester, the shorter of the brothers, says, "Bastard is keeping that, and all the other doors, shut. We're on lock-down."

"How did you do that?" Ryan chokes out, impressed with himself that he can say anything at all.

"Let us out." Shane rejoins Ryan, standing side-by-side.

Dean grimly laughs, "Would if I could. Last thing I want is for a couple of vloggers getting in the way."

"We were just returning a key." Ryan doesn't know what else to do, what to say.

The tallest of the trio, Sam, comes walking towards Ryan and Shane, hands held out in submission, a container of table-salt in his right, "I'm not gonna hurt you, but we need to get you guys in a safe place."

Shane isn't so convinced, "And what's 'safe', exactly?"

"Within a ring of salt." Sam answers.

"Oh, god." Shane groans, "Don't tell me- you're dealing with Demons?"

Ryan turns to his friend, "Why would you suggest that? What is wrong with you?!"

"Um, yeah." Sam grimaces, "I realize that's gonna be... a bit of a problem..."

Ryan can already begin to feel his heart race, palms sweating and legs becoming like lead, "No, this can't be real."

"We don't have time for this." James Novak says, and the sheer fact he's in the room, saying anything at all, brings Ryan that much closer to a panic attack. He doesn't even flinch when Novak uses a gun, Ryan has no clue what kind, to direct where he and Shane should go.

At the appearance of the weapon, Shane's tune changes, "You know what? Fine. Demons are real, where do you want us to stand?"

This snaps Ryan out of it, "Wait, so it takes spending five minutes with serial killers to convince you, but I can't?!"

"They have guns, Ryan. They could sell me a piece of the moon and I'd write them a check."

Ignoring the banter, Sam pours a circle of salt around the two men, "No matter what happens, stay in this circle."

"Who are you people?" Ryan asks, feeling unusually brave.

"Not what you think." Sam replies.

"We're Hunters." Dean states, chin up in pride.

"Hunters of what?" Shane asks.

"Monsters, ghosts, Demons." James Novak replies.

"And how'd you get involved?" Ryan asks Novak, "Where's your wife?"

Novak tilts his head, "The Djinn Queen?"

"They were doing a video on Jimmy, remember?" Dean says.

Ryan pales, "You- you saw the leak?"

"That you spoke of the Novaks, yes." not-Novak answers.

Annoyed, Shane goes, "If you're not James Novak, who are you?"

"Castiel. I'm- was, an Angel."

"Was." Shane nods, "So, not anymore?"

Castiel shakes his head.

"Meaning," Shane continues, "There's no way to prove with, say, magic tricks, your claims?"

"Stop needling the serial killers." Ryan hisses.

"You mean monster hunters." Shane sarcastically corrects.

"I'm sorry about my friend." Ryan announces, "He's kind of a dick."

"You don't say." Dean deadpans.

"Hey, is it true," Shane starts, "that you and Columbo over there are knockin' boots?"

Castiel stares down at his shoes, while Dean goes red and Sam sucks in a breath, trying not to laugh.

"You're insane." Ryan says to the air, unable to look at Shane.

"Might as well find out." Shane shrugs.

"Dean," says Castiel, "I apologize if, at any time during the evening, I've stepped on your toes."

Dean looks to age five years in as many seconds, "No problem, Cas."

"And that man, in there?" Shane asks, "He's just sleeping, right?"

"He was dead before he hit the ground." Castiel responds, "We never know for sure, when there’s a Demon present."

This information makes Shane falter, if only a little, "And why do only we need to be in the salt circle?"

Dean and Sam pull down their shirt collars, revealing pentagrams tattooed in black ink, just above their hearts. Castiel lifts up the hem of his shirt, revealing several lines of text written in a foreign language. "We're good. And unless one of y'all's a tattoo artist… ?" Dean says.

"No." Shane relents, "You still can't prove it, but whatever."

"You are exhausting." Ryan says.

"I'm thorough."

"Shut up, Shane."

"That's enough!" Dean barks, "We're dealing with a fucking Demon, now act like it." he glares at his two companions. As the trio resumes their work, Shane and Ryan are left in silence.

"You gonna try your phone?" Shane mutters.

"No, they've got guns." Ryan responds, "I think they can draw faster than I can dial."

After a few minutes of tense silence, Shane pats Ryan's arm, getting his attention. Turning to him, Ryan mouths 'What?' while following Shane's gaze. Down the hall, leading all the way to the back of the house, is the only other door leading outside.

It's open.

Glancing at one another, the intent is understood; at least one of them can make it out. Knowing Shane's got the longer legs, Ryan figures he'll have a better chance, so he prods at Shane's back, encouraging him to make a break for it.

Shane sprints for the door, and is at the other end of the hallway by the time the Winchesters or Castiel notice. Ryan doesn't see the trio's reactions, though, focusing on whether or not his friend escapes.

Shane opens the door wider, gets one foot on the first concrete step-

Cold air fills the room, enveloping every inch of Ryan's skin. The room grows darker, like someone's dimming down the lights. Every breath he inhales is freezing, and every exhale the same temperature. It's like Ryan's overcome with a sudden fever, left weak and in a cold sweat. Arms and legs locked in place, he can feel his heart slow...

"RYAN!"

Dean looks from one idiot to the other; the tall one that tried to leave the house, in what was obviously a trap set up by the Demon, and the second, shorter one that was in the broken salt circle, currently having a long stream of black smoke rush into his throat.

The Demon's found a new body.

"RYAN!" Shane shouts, and for all his smart-ass quips, the tall one wasn't that sharp. Perfect opportunity to get the fuck out and leave things to the pros, but he's gone and pissed that away. Dean feels his lip twitch into a smirk, realizing he'd do the same if it was his family. Hand closing around the Angel blade, his smile falters.

Ryan collapses to the ground, still as stone. Sam intercepts Shane, who tries to rush to his friend's side. "What did you do?!" Shane yells.

"Stay back!" Castiel shouts, charging forward with more salt. Dean's stomach jumps with worry at the sight of Castiel going in on his own. Old habits of being an Angel, thinking himself indestructible. Dean begins reciting the exorcism, his Latin clunky, as always. Smoke begins to spill from the corners of Ryan's mouth as Castiel approaches.

A hand suddenly lashes out, striking Castiel with such ferocity it throws the man clean across the room. Dean continues the exorcism, mind on autopilot, as he looks to see if Castiel is still in the fight. The former Angel knocked out cold, Dean turns his head just in time to see Ryan's hand extend out towards him.

"I'm tired of playing with you." the Demon smirks a toothy grim, causing Ryan's brown eyes to flash to black.

Dean feels his feet lift from the floor, and in a blur of speed, his body be thrown up against the ceiling. Pinned here, and momentarily stunned, Dean tries in vain to continue the exorcism.

"Shut up." the Demon hisses.

Dean's voice dies away. He can only watch as Sam tries to take the Demon on.

Angel blade in hand, Sam goes in, and Dean can tell Sam isn't looking for a kill shot. Swipes, stabs and arcs to distract, but none fatal. Maybe he's hoping for Castiel to wake, maybe he hopes the Demon can't concentrate on more than one Hunter at a time. It's not a bad strategy.

One slice too close to Ryan's neck makes Shane rush forward, spin Sam around, and snatch the blade from Sam's stunned hand. "What are you doing-?"

Both men are sent crashing to the floor, as the Demon steps out of the remains of the salt circle. Cracking knuckles and stretching arms, Ryan's lips curve into a smile, as Dean realizes what's coming next:

Villain monologue.

"Winchesters, your reputations proceed you." Ryan walks over to Castiel, who's starting to stir, "Here I am, with my humble, little set-up, and here you are, sticking your noses where they don't belong." He presses a boot against Castiel's neck, pinning him to the wall, "Don't you have bigger fish to fry? A God to fight?"

Castiel gasps for breath, and Dean struggles to free his arms, legs, willing any muscle to move.

"I'm a nobody." the Demon laughs, "I should be dead, right now. You all have lost your touch."

Shane slowly starts to rise from the floor, trying not to get the Demon's attention.

Ryan's head snaps in Shane's direction, "Shane! Buddy! How ya been?" with a hard kick to Castiel's head, Ryan begins to calmly walk over.

Shane tries for the door, and it looks like Sam was right; it's unlocked, and the Demon can't focus on more than a few things at a time.

With that, Dean frees his arm, can move his lips. He starts the exorcism from the top.

"WHAT DID I SAY." the Demon bellows, waving his hand towards Dean, again. This time, Dean's throat closes up.

Sam continues the exorcism from his place on the ground.

Ryan waves his hand again, throwing Sam into the room with the man's corpse.

Castiel, blood pouring out of his mouth, picks up the chant where Sam left off. The Demon is so distracted, Dean's able to get free. Bracing himself, Dean falls to the floor, and, after a few shaky seconds, joins Castiel.

Teeth clenched, veins pulsing, Ryan yells, "ENOUGH!" sending both men staggering back, falling to the ground, and then pressed up against the wall.

The front door bursts open. Dean cannot, for the life of him, believe that the tall idiot's back.

"Hey! Dumbass!" Shane calls.

The Demon turns to look at him.

Dean, thinking he's seen it all, and can't be surprised anymore, tonight, feels his jaw drop.

"Do you want to di-" Ryan starts, just before Shane douses him with a water gun.

The screams coming from Ryan are simply inhuman. Smoke rises from his skin, as he covers his face. The air, already pungent with sulfur, becomes insufferable.

Sam staggers from the back room, finishing the exorcism.

A rush of smoke exits through Ryan's mouth, the pained scream still echoing off of the walls. And then-

-silence.

Shane considers the squirt gun in his hand, then looks back up at the trio of Hunters staring at him. "It's- it's filled with holy water." he gestures to an unconscious Ryan, "His idea."

"So, you're really monster hunters?" Shane asks, wincing at the alcohol being applied to his scraped knees. They were the worst of the gashes on him, sustained when the Demon threw Sam on top of him.

"Yes." Sam replies, taking a bandage from the Impala's first aid kit. Shane had gotten Ryan, who was still out, in the rental car, and parked that just behind the Chevy. Everyone is now taking a breather before parting ways.

"So, not serial killers?"

"No."

Shane pauses, "Sorry, about taking your knife. I just didn't want you stabbing my friend."

"You ended up saving all of us, so I think we're square." Sam looks over to the open trunk lid, behind which Dean and Castiel were securing the corpse the Demon had initially possessed.

"Ryan's gonna be unbearable when he wakes, you know." Shane says, "'Ooh! Demons are real! We don't have it on camera, but it happened!'"

"Will you keep doing the show?" Sam asks, trying not to sound too eager.

"Probably. Ryan'll want to catch lightning in a bottle twice, but never do another Demon location, again."

"You sound disappointed."

Shane shrugs, "It's fun seeing him scared."

Sam shakes his head.

"So," Shane begins, "You watch the show."

"... maybe."

"How many of the places we visit are actually haunted?"

Sam thinks, "Most were, but we, or other Hunters we know, cleared 'em."

"Huh."

After saying their goodbyes, and with the understanding that no one would believe Ryan and Shane if they tried to profit off of their Demon encounter, the two groups part ways. The Hunter trio climb back into the Impala, but not before Dean throws Sam the keys.

"I'm spent." Dean explains, "You take over for a while." Dean also opens the back door for Castiel, but only when he thinks Sam isn't watching. Dean crawls in after him, and does everything he can to not meet Sam's eyes in the mirror.

It's a half hour later, when on the highway, heading towards the Bunker, that Dean tries to make amends.

"Cas-" Dean starts, voice just above a whisper.

Castiel grabs his hand, both are dried and crusted with blood, "I'm sorry." he mouths, "For everything."

"No." Dean fails to keep the break out of his voice, "I'm sorry. You're family, Cas. Nothing's gonna change that."

Castiel looks away, and Dean knows from personal experience what he's trying to hide.

"I miss Jack." Comes Castiel's broken sob.

Dean squeezes his hand, "I know. I do, too. I should've done more."

"We should have." Castiel corrects.

They sit together in a bittersweet silence. The car interior is dark, the rumbling of the road beneath their feet thunderous, and Sam's eyes on the road. Dean and Castiel are in their own little world.

"I love you." the words spill from Dean's mouth before he can stop them, and funny enough, he doesn't regret it, or treat it like a mistake. It's been years in the making, really. And when Castiel looks back at him, eyes wide with wonder, and more than a little red from fatigue, Dean just brings their joined hands up to his lips, and gives the back of Castiel's palm a gentle kiss. Castiel leans in, meeting Dean forehead-to-forehead, "I love you, too."

Shane's pulling up to the hotel parking lot when Ryan finally wakes.

"Ugh, god." Ryan rubs at his eyes, "What a fuckin' nightmare."

Shane puts the car in park, turning off the engine, "What do ya mean, buddy?"

Ryan looks over at Shane, then around the rest of the car, "Wait, didn't we go by the Wyatt house, and drop off some keys?"

"Yep."

"And I was driving."

"Uh-huh."

Ryan blinks, "Did I hit my head or something?"

"No, we met up with serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester, along with missing person James Novak, and took on a Demon. You got possessed."

Ryan's face screws up in disbelief, "Very funny, asshat."

"No!" Shane insists, "It really happened."

"Bullshit."

"Then, what was your nightmare about?"

"Getting chased by a rabid Paddington." Ryan replies, his eyes glazed over in a haunted stare.

Shane throws his hands up, "Fine, we’ll go with that."

________________________________________________________________

Thank you!! For reading!! ♥♥♥

#SPN #Buzzfeed: Unsolved #crossovers #fanfic #writiers #writing #Dean #Cas #Destiel #Sam #Pray for Sammy #Ryan Bergara #Shane Madej #RPF #AO3 #S14 Spoilers

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deathfrisbeeinthetardis · 5 years ago

Text

The Sky Beast, New and Improved Chapter 2

Yay I wrote a second chapter for the fic!! One of the key plot points is inspired by @q-unsolved‘s amazing art :D

Summary:

Ryan Bergara is 100% human until they shoot the Mothman episode. They didn’t find anything but Ryan might have brought a piece of the investigation home with him. Or: A bit of Mothman attaches to Ryan and he gets pretty cool perks. Shane is a fan.

Chapter 2 Summary:

Ryan goes to work with his wings tucked away, and they go camping for the weekend. Hijinks ensue.

Find it on Ao3 here or read below!

They take a sick day.

Partly to figure out how to best keep Ryan's transformation a secret from the rest of the world. Partly just because it is all new and exciting, and the two men want the chance to completely regress to boys for the occasion, you know, to celebrate.

Case in point, Ryan is flapping around his apartment with Shane on his tail, his wings doing all the work to keep them and Ryan's body from crashing into the walls or the furniture. They had taken time before this to clear away everything of value from shelves or tables, of course, they were capable of behaving like adults for a few minutes longer before they totally lost it.

"How's your six-foot-fourness helping now huh?" Ryan shouts with glee, cackling breathlessly as his wings maneuver him deftly away from Shane's outstretched hands, settling him to perch on top of a cupboard.

"Damn it, why aren’t you obeying the laws of physics?" Shane wheezed, supporting his hands on his bent knees before said cupboard with a giant grin on his face, which brightened even more, "You know what? Your mob name is going to be wings now if I am to be called legs! It's only fair." he declared, straightening with hands on his hips.

"Uh, no way. My wings are totally going to be my secret weapon! I can't go announcing that to all my enemies, also Night-Night is way cooler. You're just jealous." Ryan stuck out his tongue, relishing in the joy of this moment. The past two hours actually, they really haven't accomplished much.

It takes another half an hour before both of them are too exhausted and hungry to continue, and they collapse onto Ryan's couch with a carton of orange juice between them, chugging it down with the fervor of men after vigorous aerobic exercise and several cases of severe laughter-syndrome.

"So," Shane says when his breaths finally start to even out, "We know you can fly outside the natural laws of this earth. Also, I think I saw you're eyes glint red when the light hit it a few minutes ago, you're not about to go rogue on me now are you?"

"Wait, really?" He really hadn't noticed, cause that's not how eyes work. It was probably too dark the last time he looked in the mirror that morning for him to see. Ryan sets the carton onto the coffee table and hops over it to get to the window where watery sunlight shines into the room. Using his phone as a makeshift mirror, he wiggles his head until the light catches his eyes at a certain angle and, "Oh wow, they really are red."

"That could be a problem with filming, especially when our cameras are all good enough to avoid red-eye." Shane pauses, then chuckles, "Oh boy, if the fans ever find out they are going to go crazy. All those theorists positing how I'm a demon are gonna come after you now!"

Ryan wrinkles his nose at his reflection, "You're being way too happy about this."

"Hey, you win some you lose some. At least your red eyes are normal-sized, not like goggles or something like in the myths."

"Goggles," Ryan frowns at that, something in his memory sparking an idea, "didn't you recently get those pair of broke-Tony Stark glasses? The yellow ones?" He eyes Shane without turning, "You think they sell red ones? I can always say the red is from the glasses' reflection."

The other man makes a considering noise and pulls out his phone, after a minute his brows climb high on his forehead, stretching out his hand to show the screen displaying an astounding collection of red-tinted sunglasses, "They're supposed to help with visibility apparently, like the yellow ones." He strokes his nonexistent goatee, "Hmm I wonder what character wears red glasses, I gotta get you back for that Tony Stark comment."

"Shut up, Shane," Ryan replies almost on instinct, squinting at the screen to pick out the least obnoxious design. There was an optician's a few blocks from his apartment and Shane volunteers to get Ryan a pair while he practices camouflaging into a normal human workplace.

It actually turns out to be pretty easy, just as long as he keeps the thought of the necessity of the invisibility in the back of his mind. Ryan also discovers to his delight and Shane's halfhearted dismay that tangibility does not seem to affect his flight ability much beyond some extra concentration. He'll be fine tomorrow at work. He'll just have to remember to take a break every few hours to stretch or something.

The shoot on Monday though, that could be a problem. Now that he has gotten used to his wings through one day of intense usage, Ryan has absolutely no guarantees that if he gets spooked he won't just flap away on instinct.

Shane sleeps over that night to 'observe the Mothman in his natural habitat', Ryan decides his newest favorite sleeping position right in the middle of a five-pillow nest and when he drifts off he dreams about the red-eyed Mothman from the stories.

On Friday, Ryan wears the biggest hoodie he owns to work, just in case his wings pop-out unplanned. Despite the confidence from the day before, paranoia of a different kind creeps up on him as he sits at his desk next to Shane. He almost never comes in this early, but it was better than walking through the office with everyone there.

He stares bleary-eyed when his computer boots up, taking his new glasses out of the case and setting them on his nose. The color gives everything a mildly sinister tinge and makes him more self-conscious of his appearance than he has been in a long time, but they do their job.

He's quite proud that he only jumps a little when Jen calls "Nice specs, Ryan!" from six desks away. He also manages to wait until lunch break before he has to race to the bathroom to let his wings out. One of the pros of working at Buzzfeed is that there are constantly so many weird things happening that his abnormal choice in eye-wear didn't draw any attention more than a few comments and even some compliments.

All things considered, it's a good day. Ryan even manages to get a good chunk of editing done amidst his paranoia and routine banter with Shane, the latter has gradually started to become more and more moth specific. Seriously did the guy research all the moth puns through the night?

"What do you call a group of moths dancing around a light?" Shane leans over to say an hour before they can go home for the weekend, his eyes twinkling, "A moth pit."

Ryan groans, choosing not to respond as the passive-aggressive way to protest against the excessive abuse of all things moth-related within the day. His shoulders feel stiff, and out of habit he folds his arms behind his head and leans back in a long slow stretch, and it is the most satisfying stretch in his life, as the strain of a whole afternoon of mostly sitting still with his head craned forward just vanishes. He hums a little in satisfaction.

Simultaneously, the lights overhead go out. So does his computer. And everyone else's.

"Oh no no no my computer just crashed!?"

"Is there a power outage? What's going on?"

"I didn't save..."

Ryan is frozen in his position as the cacophony of voices barrages his now slightly enhanced hearing, and it hits him a moment later. In a flash, he's hunching down in his seat, trying to seem as small as he can with his face in his hands, while his invisible wings come down to wrap around him from where they had just stretched too, unseen. Fuck. Wasn't there a thing about electrical malfunctions on the nights of Mothman sightings? Oh god, he hopes he didn't knock the whole of Los Angeles off the grid. He feels his face flush, the skin heating up against his palms. Great job Bergara. Fantastic managing of your powers.

Shane, who had been in the process of returning to his own editing after snickering at his godawful joke, has his hands hovering over the keyboard and a bemused smile on his face as he tilts his head and sees Ryan with the hood of his hoodie pulled down over his face.

"I'm sorry," Ryan mumbles faintly into his hands, "I didn't think that part would apply to me."

Shane looks at him for a moment, then he claps a hand on Ryan's shoulder and wiggles him a little in his seat as his smile splits into a grin, "Lucky for you, I save my work by the hour. Otherwise, you'd have to fly like hell cause I'll tackle you."

"You'd never catch me," Ryan says, lifting his head a little to shoot a grateful glance at the taller man, "remember yesterday?"

"Oh but I was unprepared!" Shane declares, rubbing his hands and widening his eyes until he resembled a crazed hunter, "Next time I'll have a bow and a ton of those suction-tipped arrows, and I'm bringing you down baby!"

"You're unbelievable." Ryan huffs with a laugh, glancing around the pandemonium that has descended onto the BuzzFeed office and what seems to be the street outside as well, "Ugh, wanna head back now? We're gonna have to walk, uber is definitely not going to work."

Shane nods, chuckling silently at the whole situation. On their way out, Ryan desperately avoids eye contact with anyone and stares at his red-tinted feet, only snapping out of his inner guilt tirade when Shane pokes him in the rib.

"Stop looking down and hunching your shoulders, makes you look more guilty." He chides, the stupid grin still on his face as he tugs Ryan's hood back as they walk onto the sunlit street. "They'll just blame it on PG&E. The whole thing will teach everyone a lesson to be on top of their job and not rely entirely on technology and big electrical companies to save their work."

"You're just smug that you didn't get affected as much." Ryan retorts, but the comment didn't have any actual heat behind it.

"You bet I am. Come on, buck up buddy. We've got the entire weekend to have fun with this!" The taller man gestured to the general area on Ryan's back where his wings hung hidden, "Don't you want to go into the wild and see what happens?"

Ryan would never tell Shane this, but his wings stir and shudder a little at the words as if they were dying to show the extent of their abilities. Traitors.

They end up in Monrovia Canyon Park after an hour-long drive that afternoon, since they figured most of LA's population would be out in the city doing fun Friday night things, so the chances of anyone seeing a figure flying through the trees of the park are greatly reduced. Fortunately, they arrive with around an hour of sunlight left to hike in and set up their camping gear. Unfortunately, the light gives Ryan the opportunity to read the sign at the trailhead.

"Fuck no." Ryan yelps, pointing an accusing finger at the picture of a black bear with the words 'warning, you are entering bear territory' emblazoned in black under it. He's terrified of bears, those things are the apex predators of the land, and Shane knows that because they've argued about this multiple times, on camera. It's probably why he chose this damn park over the others. "I am not camping here with those things around."

The man shrugs and the tall backpack on his shoulders rise up at least half a foot with the motion. "It is the most heavily wooded park in the area, and I do have this bear mace here," He says innocently, though his brown eyes sparkling in the sunlight seem to issue a challenge that riles up something in Ryan into a frenzy. "And in case you forgot, you can fly, Ryan, no bears are gonna get you."

"I hate you," Ryan mutters darkly, shooting the other man a look that was something between affection and scorn. What Shane said makes sense, logically, and Ryan is beyond annoyed when stuff like this happens on the regular. Speaking of powers, he wonders if there are any more tricks up the Mothman's sleeve that he can use to give Shane a good getting back at.

Ryan half stomps over and yanks the canister of anti-bear from the side pocket of the taller man's pack, scowling at his snicker and latches onto the cool metal with a death grip, finger crooked into the trigger. Shane is right on one account, no bears are going to get him on this trip, or he'll get a face of mace and whatever cool shit Mothman can do when it's spooked.

They dump their bags in a patch of grass amidst the trees, far from any established trails or camping grounds just to be safe. With a sigh of relief, Ryan's wings materialize at his back, dark against the dimly lit forest around them, dwarfing Ryan with their span. It seems they hadn't been at their full size that day in his apartment. They now stretch twelve feet in total, drawing a sharp awed inhale from Shane as the powerful limbs flex and stretch in their freedom. The best part? Ryan didn't even have to take off his hoodie, the wings found their own way through the material without really altering it.

Ryan rolls his neck and relishes the warmth that the cracks leave behind as the soreness melts away, and he grins at Shane. "What now?" he says, a little breathless already.

"Whatever feels natural, Ryan." Shane says with a wolfish grin of his own, "Just let go of all the stress and embrace mother nature."

So Ryan lets his eyes flutter close and gives in to that wild part in him that has started stirring since their investigation in Virginia. When he opens his eyes again, their red glint sharpens his vision as his wings carry him straight up into the air. The wind whips at his face and he has his arms spread wide, laughter bubbling out of him as his previous fear of heights dissolves into the crisp rich air.

He rides the soft winds, weaving through the semi-dense woods around their campsite and listens to his new instincts as he twirled in the air performing moves that he had once seen professional divers do. He feels free in there, and even though the falls and dips in height still send his stomach clenching, it's more in anticipation of the thrill of control, of pulling back at the very last second to glide just a few feet off the ground, rather than fear. He flies and perches on various treetops and swoops again, all to the whooping and cheering of Shane from down bellow.

"Hey Ryan! Look what I brought!" He shouted, and Ryan glides down to a lower branch to give the not-so-tall looking man a questioning glance, the man was smirking with mischief, holding out a hand to wiggle a bright camping lantern in his direction, "Since you're Mothman, d'you feel anything for this here light?"

Ryan was about to adjust his grip on the branch to only using a certain finger on both hands when suddenly Shane yelps and starts to do a twitchy dance with his upper body. For a second Ryan panics, but he was just close enough for his enhanced night vision to see that the strange behavior is, in fact, not caused by a demon possessing his friend.

"Oh, fuck is that a wasp?" Ryan bursts out laughing at the way Shane's face contorts a little at the tiny insect buzzing uncomfortably close to his face and did not feel sorry at all for his friend. Nope. Ryan was almost squealing in delight as Shane batted at the wasp as best he could, flapping his long arms around with a panicked look on his face.

"See what you get? This is what you get! Yes! Take that for--" Its a shame that his victory speech is cut short when a wasp materializes right in front of his own face, sending him tumbling backward off the branch with a high pitched screech.

A part of his brain thinks that if people heard what he had just uttered, there are going to be reports of the first Mothman sighting in Los Angelas.

For some life-fucking reason, the wasp--actually three of them now-- tormenting Shane decide to refocus their attention on the flying creature instead of the sasquatch. They obviously haven’t taken physics or learned about surface area.

Ryan threads his way through the trees with much less of his previous flare and joy, flying for his life as the few wasps quickly grow to a swarm, despite a small voice in his head encouraging him to stop, to take a stand. What the fuck did he ever do to them?? It's not like he kicked their nest or something. Frustration and exhaustion combining is never a good look on Ryan, and after what he estimates is four minutes of high-speed air chase, he dives to the ground. Landing softly, he lets instincts take over, whirling around to let out a snarl at the swarm that races for him, wings arched at his back and shaking slightly to make rustling sounds.

The wasp swarm halts before him with a jerk.

Ryan's teeth are bared, which is kind of dumb, cause he doesn't have fangs so that image must not be very scary to anyone. But the wasps hover before him, their formation shifting uncertainly, and Ryan can see the detail on each and every buzzing insect with crystal clarity. A deadly calm washes over him.

"Heel." He growls, and his own voice startles himself. With all the macho, gangster bits they've done on Unsolved, he has never heard his voice go this low and guttural. Ryan blinks, and the heavy blanket of calm is gone.

The wasps hold still, their formation now in a fixed sphere as they buzzed quietly. Respectfully, a part of Ryan's mind supplies, they serve him now. What the hell just happened?

A crackle of a boot on dry leaves has Ryan whipping his head around to see Shane approaching him with a flashlight and bear mace in perfect Harries position, concern and something like dread tightening his face. "Ryan come here, get away from the wasps."

"They're not a threat anymore Shane," he said, tone stiff and tired. "They obey me now." The taller man looks doubtful but after a few flashes of light at the swarm produced no change in the wasps' motion, he slowly lowered the mace can.

"I-I didn't know what to do so I just grabbed this," he said, lifting the mace a bit and then letting his arms drop back to his side. "Ryan are you okay? Your hands are shaking."

"What?" Ryan says absently, and there are tremors running through his hands. He clenches them into fists and tucks them into his hoodie pocket. A flick of his head at the swarm has them dispersing, buzzing back to wherever the hell they popped out from. "We're losing light, we should set up the tent," he says as he turns to walk back to where they had dropped their bags.

Shane stands his ground and reaches out a hand to catch the smaller man's shoulder when Ryan tries to walk past him, and his eyes widen slightly as Ryan's wings bristle at the contact, but his grip is firm. "If there's something wrong, Ry, anything at all that feels off about this whole Mothman thing, you'd tell me, right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, big guy." Ryan offers the taller man a small smile, though it might have wavered a little. He can tell that his friend would have liked answers to a great many questions about how he felt, about the mad chase and about that final showdown, but the man didn't push. He trusts Ryan to reach out if he needed it.

The problem is, Ryan has never been that good with emotions.

But at the moment he feels... okay. The excitement of the ordeal seems to have canceled out his energy. So he smiles some more, "I promise." At Shane's not at all satisfied expression, he nudges the taller man with the tip of a dark wing, "Come on, help me light a fire. I'm dying for some smores."

And so they did.

#fanfiction #inspired by awesome art #I love Mothman!Ryan so much #alex writes #Ghoul friends

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ghoulboyboos · 6 years ago

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Vampire!Shane and werewolf!Ryan meet on a dating app for non-humans and are surprised by how well they get along/their chemistry when they meet offline

Shanefiddles with his cuffs and looks around the restaurant for the sixthtime in the last ten minutes. He arrived early,

way

too early,because he had been so anxious about being late on accident that hegot here about twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet Ryan.

Ryan.

Hetakes his phone in his hand again and unlocks it. His eyes settle onRyan’s profile, the picture of him leaning against a wall, armscrossed, fists pushing just a little behind his arms to put hisimpressive biceps on display. Shane remembers the little flutter hefelt the first time he dared to message the other man. Part of himhad expected to be brushed off and ignored. Ryan was gorgeous andShane had long accepted that he was kind of weird and lanky and hisheight made people consider going out with him. Even if Ryan didn’thave a problem with that, Shane half expected to be rejected forbeing a vampire.

Justbecause Ryan hadn’t specified any type of partner on the profiledidn’t mean he didn’t have any preferences.

But,miracles happen apparently and Ryan had messaged him back. They hadexchanged a couple of jokes about the old “bats and dogs don’tmix” stereotype before launching into a chat about everything andnothing. Shane had already feared the conversation would crash andburn when Ryan brought up sports, unable to contribute. However, overa strange mix of Shane mentioning that he grew up in Chicago, jokesabout the Bulls and Michael Jordan and Space Jam and a quickdiversion into Looney Toons territory, they had started to talkmovies. It was the start of a conversation that ended with both ofthem falling asleep on their phones while lying in bed and they hadpicked up right where they left off the next night.

Moviesweren’t the only thing they had in common. They both enjoyed thesame terrible jokes, theme parks, Halloween and food. Both hadlaughed about the irony about them liking Halloween and Ryan had puthis foot in his mouth by asking Shane about food. Shane had done justas bad when he asked Ryan what form he chose for jogging.

Despitethe little hiccups, they eventually agreed on meeting for dinner.Shane picked the restaurant, a nice little place that catered to themore supernatural types of guests and Ryan agreed to meet him there.

Shaneis looking through the menu, trying to guess what Ryan would go forwhen he hears the waiter come closer, catching the tail end of whatshe’s saying.

“…overhere.” She says and indicates towards Shane at the table. Shanenearly jumps up, eager to stand to his full height in the suit thathe brushed up for the occasion only. His eyes settle on Ryan wholooks even more gorgeous in person. He’s slightly flushed, his hairis gelled back and he is wearing a nice dark red shirt and suitpants. His sleeves are rolled up and Shane gets a great view ofRyan’s arms – and if he wasn’t already technically undead,Shane would die over those.

“Hey.”Ryan says and his voice is bright and warm and Shane feels the oldyearning for lying in the sun for an hour or two without worries.Holy shit. Weird. But also kind of amazing.

“Hi.”He answers and holds out his hand for Ryan to shake. Ryan snorts buttakes it, giving it a firm shake and Shane shudders at how warm thosehands are. The other man glances up and smiles.

“Yourhands are so cool. That’s actually pretty nice.” Shane frowns.

“What…really?”

“Yeah.I always burn so hot that I sometimes feel like I have a constantfever. It’s refreshing.”

“Huh.Well, I’m glad to be of cooling assistance.” Shane jokes and hehears a soft wheezing laugh in return as they let go and shuffle totheir seats. Shane thinks about pulling out the seat for Ryan but theother guy beats him to it and the shorter man flushes a little moreas he stands with his hands on the back of Shane’s chair,indicating to it.

“Thankyou.” Shane says with a smirk as he sits and he sees the other manclear his throat and avoid eye contact. He allows himself a giggle,mostly because he gets the luxury of not having to stress aboutblushing. If Ryan is offended it doesn’t show.

Dinnergoes smoothly. They chat, they eat and Shane laughs at the monstrousmeat dish that Ryan orders and devours.

“Noreason to wolf it all down,Ryan. They won’t take it from you.”

“Funny.”Ryan says, face expressionless. “Neverheard that one before.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin beforecontinuing. “I need tostack up on calories. Full moon’s coming up.”

“Ican never sleep during full moon.” Shane admits. “I get antsy.”

Ryanwheezes again.

“Don’tworry about that, big guy. I know what it’s like to get antsy. Iusually stumble into a Denny’s at three in the morning and ask forwhatever.”

Shanechuckles and sips from his glass.

“Wellyou can always text me during those nights if you’re bored. I’mnot a runner but I could at least hang with you in whatever park youwant to rampage.”

Ryansnickers.

“What,you don’t feel in the mood for running? We could go dancinginstead.”

“Dothey let you in clubs if you wolf out?”

“Thereare a few.”

Ryan’seyes are twinkling and Shane feels himself smile. He isn’ta big party guy but hitting the dance floor with Ryan sounds likefun. It’sbeen some time since he just let loose at a party without having toworry that heightened emotions and excited heartbeats around him gettoo distracting.

“Whatabout you?” Ryan asks, nodding his chin towards Shane. “Whatdo you do for fun?”

“Uh,well. I spend a lot of time at home. You know, I think I mentionedthat I’m kind of new to this… uh, lifeand I’m not always in control.” Shane clears his throat, toyingwith his fork. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, you know.”

Heglances up at Ryan, who looks serious, but nods with a hint of asmile.

“Iget it. I’m fine with staying in. Uh.” He pauses, stammering.“If- If you want to meet again, you know. We could just- Watch amovie or something.”

“Iwould love that.” Shane says before Ryan can get freaked out. Hisdate deflates visibly and smiles at him.

“Oh.Cool. And for the record, I’m… pretty strong. So if you want wecan also go out and I can have an eye on you and help you leave theplace if you want.”

Shanesmiles.

“Soundslike a plan.”

Theymove to lighter topics. Before they know it, most of the night isover and it’s time to pay their bill. Surprisingly enough, Shane isthe one to suggest taking a stroll around the area and Ryan seemssurprised but delighted.

Thereis no running, no transforming, no measuring of strengths that night.It’s not quite first date material. Instead they find a 7/11 andbuy snacks and chat as they eat and walk.

Ryanslips a warm hand in Shane’s cool one and Shane feels the littleflutter in his chest again.

Hecould do this again. And again and again. The thought of spendingnights, especially the tougher nights with Ryan, distracting eachother sounds wonderful. He wonders if Ryan will let him feed off ofhim one day. In return, he wants to run with Ryan, wants to help himpower through his transformations, wants to gather him up afterwardswith a change of clothes and some water and snacks. Right now, Shanedoesn’t say that, but he files it away for later. Another night.Another date.

Tonight,they’re holding hands and talking about their favorite crime shows.Tonight, Ryan bounces up and down next to him as they are chatting.Tonight, things just fit the way they do.

Hehas to remember to give SuperDate a five star review on the appstore.

#ask #theawfuledges #shyan #skeptic believer #prompts #mini fic

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sunshinebergara · 6 years ago

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Do number 34 from the list "it lives in the woods" where Ryan goes out in the woods with some friends to look for proof of the rumored demon (Shane) but gets separated and lost, Shane appearing to the terrified Ryan only to flirt and make Bigfoot jokes before helping him out of the forest

(Hope this is what you had in mind! Enjoy!!)

Andrew had laughed when he suggested it; Steven had gone a little pale but also laughed along nervously. But Ryan was deadly serious.

“It lives in the woods,” Ryan looked earnestly at the men sitting on the other side of the booth, his hands resting on the slightly sticky tabletop, “and we’re going to find it,”

“What?” Andrew chuckled, “You want to do what?”

“To go cross Alton Bridge and try to contact the demon who possesses it.”

“In the woods? At night?!” Steven looked distinctly unsettled by the suggestion and looked quickly between the two of them for support.

“Yeah, I want to see if we can communicate with it,”

“For you birthday?” Andrew still sounded incredulous

Luckily, rain wasn’t forecast for Monday night and when they met in the car park, the woods felt pleasantly cool after a humid day. They were all nervous, but honestly, mostly just excited. Ryan couldn’t help but grin at the sight of the other two men, sweeping flashlights over the uneven track in front of them.

“Ready?” Ryan said as they approached, aiming the question mostly at Steven who was definitely the more wide-eyed of the two.

“Yeah-” Steven swallowed before continuing- “this way right?”

And with that, they walked resolutely down the path that led to Alton Bridge.

He shouldn’t have stormed off like that. Considering where they were, he shouldn’t have risked losing the others, and certainly not by barrelling angrily through the undergrowth looking for a fucking haunted bridge. But when they took a wrong turn and ending up basically back where they started, Andrew’s monotone suggestions that would’ve just led to the same mistake they made the first time set his teeth on edge. They hadn’t liked his plan, to go straight through the forest and catch the path half way. But he didn’t listen to them and walked off assuming they’d follow. He wasn’t sure if they did or not but now he’d lost sight of them and his heart began to pick up the pace, realising he’d have no one to help him if he got into trouble. He swallowed thickly and as the anger pulsing behind his eyeballs dissipated, it was filled by ice-cold panic.

Ryan looked turned on the spot hopelessly. He’d found a clearing but not one he’d ever seen before, so it was little comfort. Every direction looked the same, trees equally dense and he’d spun round so many times he couldn’t even remember the direction he’d just come from. His heart beat even more rapidly as he tried desperately to avoid thinking about the eerie feeling this forest was giving him. The muscles in his shoulders and arms seemed to ache with the desire to move and his eyes watered, restless energy coiling all over his body. He blinked a few times and stretched his shoulders but this did nothing to dispel the feeling. Against his better judgement, his footsteps carried him forward into the centre of the clearing.

A warm laugh rang out over the noise of Ryan’s heavy breathing. He turned fast, flashing his torchlight between the trees, half expecting to see Steven and Andrew appearing out of the empty spaces but half knowing that the laugh belonged to neither of them. The trees looked closer than before with each rotation he made in search of the source of the noise. But the feeling that turned in his joints told him what had made it. He didn’t even jump when he felt the warm pressure of a hand on his shoulder - it was as if somewhere in the hollows of his chest he’d been expecting it. He turned slowly, looking at the human-like hand and long fingers that clasped his shoulder.

“You’re calmer than the others,” a voice practically purred in Ryan’s ear. That did it, he turned like a whip and was face to face with what he assumed was a demon, with the way it had appeared out of nowhere. It had a human body, mostly, but at the top of his head and the tips of his fingers and corners of his elbows seemed to fade into the darkness around it more gradually than something solid would’ve. And it was a man, so to speak, with sharp features and a sly smile. The deep panic he’d felt a moment ago was still screaming at him to run or fight, but now it felt like he’d put his head under the water because the shouts felt distorted and unimportant somehow.

“Is it really you?” is all Ryan could seem to come up with to say.

“So you came here looking for me then? Plenty do, but I don’t normally show myself.” He took a step closer to Ryan, who just about had the presence of mind to step back.

“Shane Madej,” he added as he extended a hand.

Running mostly on autopilot, Ryan shook it and replied, “I’m Ryan.”

Steven’s eyes flicked up as he sensed movement, but it was just Andrew checking his watch yet again. The incessant clock-watching only made his nerves twist into a tighter knot. He’d known this was a bad idea. And now Ryan had been missing for a full 20 minutes and they’d gone back to the car rather than get lost themselves looking for him, hoping he’d make it back there once he’d realised they’d become separated. But now Andrew’s nervous fidgeting, in contrast to his usual stillness, made Steven want to shake him.

Ryan’s breathing finally started to slow as the demon in front of him smiled warmly. It was an unexpected quality on a demon, warmth, but it suited him.

“This isn’t real,” Ryan blinked rapidly, expecting Shane to flicker and disappear, but he remained.

“Afraid it is,” Shane said as he placed a hand against Ryan’s arm, “I’m really here."

“I came here to communicate with you, and now I’m communicating with some hallucination, that must be it,” Ryan was still shaking his head over and over, expecting Shane to just cease to exist.

“You’re lucky enough to have the real thing.What did you want to ask?” His eyebrow flicked up as he spoke and it made Ryan feel suddenly on edge again, so he looked away as he replied.

“Why you’re here? What you are? Uh I don’t really know… I didn’t think we’d actually find you, or that you’d be,” Ryan paused, glancing to check that Shane was definitely still there, “so conversational.”

“Well ask away, baby,”

“Are you flirting with me?” Ryan asked eventually after considerable time spent walking through the forest and many other questions. The trees seem to clear a path for Shane but he never actually saw one move.

“Why would you say that?” Shane said quickly as he looked away, the first time he hadn’t given Ryan intense eye contact while they’d spoken.

“Because when I asked, that was the first time you stopped smirking at me since you literally appeared out of the air and told me I was special,” Ryan laughed as Shane seemed on the back foot for the first time since they’d met, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“No, I didn’t say you were special, just that I don’t usually appear to people,” he sounded defensive and that was music to Ryan’s ears.

“It was implied, dude” Ryan grinned to himself.

“You’ve got very cosy for somehow who was about to shit themselves at the very sight of me ten minutes ago,” he turned to face Ryan fully now, jabbing a finger into his chest. It wasn’t very threatening for a move for a demonic entity and Ryan squared up, meeting Shane’s gaze.

“Well you’re not that scary, really, especially now I know you’re trying to jump my bones,” Ryan smirked himself now, heat rising in his neck in a way he’d recognise had he been paying attention.

“You should be scared of me,” Shane’s voice dropped an octave as he drew closer to Ryan, and the atmosphere turned tense but not threatening. Ryan only took his gaze away from Shane’s mouth when his eyes turned suddenly black. The feeling that flooded through Ryan at that definitely wasn’t fear, although it should've been. His common sense, which had been trying to wade through running water, finally made contact and he hurriedly backed off and started pacing down the path again.

“Need to get back to the car, and find Steven and Andrew like I said, come on let’s go,”

The brisk walk in the rapidly cooling air did Ryan a lot of good and he had come to his sense about this demon and its behaviour by the time he saw the car park ahead. He shouted to Steven and Andrew, who seemed to shrink with relief at the sight of him.

“We were so worried,” Steven said as he grabbed him for a hug.

“Glad you’re safe, man,” Andrew gave him a tired smile.

Ryan spun round now, aware that he should probably explain the strange man who’d appeared with him, but Shane was not behind him.

“You didn’t see anyone else in the woods tonight, did you?” Ryan asked the other two carefully.

“No, just us, why? Did you see something?” Andrew looked somewhere between inquisitive and worried.

But Ryan quickly dismissed it, waving his hand vaguely and saying, “Probably nothing. Shall we go home?”

The ride back into town was quiet.

The shadowy figure Ryan could see sat on the lawn when he looked out of his bedroom window, was unusual but not altogether surprising. He pushed the window up.

“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?” Ryan said as loudly as he dared, prompting Shane to turn.

“I got it right then, this is your house. Old line that,” Shane smiled weakly.

“Yeah you might’ve heard it before,” Ryan leant fully out the window now, folding his arms and resting on the sill. Shane stood and faced him.

“Heard it on the opening night actually, me and Shakespeare were pals… some might say lovers,” His voice took on the tone of some great storyteller but Ryan wasn’t convinced.

“You and Shakespeare were not lovers,” Ryan grinned and shook his head as he spoke.

“No you’re right, he wanted me but I was sworn to Queen Elizabeth at the time,” Shane’s voice danced mischievously and no doubt his eyes would do the same if Ryan could see them.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” pausing for only a second before adding, “are you coming in?”

Ryan could make out his wide smile, despite the darkness.

You can find more of my writing here and I’m always happy to fill prompts and requests!

#shyan #shyan fic #ella writes #answered #prompts #post exam prompts #anon #so happy to be back writing #maybe one more to come tonight #op

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spoopybruh · 6 years ago

Text

Revelations

Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series) Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej Characters: Ryan Bergara, Shane Madej Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 AO3: Here

Summary: The chances of meeting someone committed to understanding him without any form of reservation is rare. Much less even hoping that there’s a possibility of something beyond that. Still- there are times where risks pay off and Shane is evermore glad this is one of them.

Note: As mentioned this is an AU verse where Shane is on the AS/PD spectrum. It’s written as a means to cope with the things I struggle with.

There’s something remarkable about how easily the Bergara household made him feel that his presence is welcome, if not, appreciated. Over the course of their friendship, Shane has gotten the privilege of getting to know the rest of Ryan’s extended family and they’ve never failed to greet him with warm familiarity each time he visits. This time is of course, no exception. Though a part of Shane wondered if they’d still treat him with the same warm hospitality if they knew. It's not a question he particularly enjoys thinking about.

He readily agrees when he’s extended an invitation to a weekend barbecue over at their house namely because A: who would turn down a good meal and B: He actually likes hanging out with Ryan. If all he has to do is be on his best behavior and stoop so that Ryan’s mom could pinch his cheeks fondly when she greets him at the door, he can deal with that.

By the time they finally arrived at the residence of Ryan's parents, they found the barbecue party already in full swing. For the next few hours, Shane is preoccupied with filling his platter with food and entertaining everyone who approached him for conversation. It's when the overall energy of the gathering eases into a peaceful lull, full of people milling about, that Shane manages to extricate himself from socialising.

At Ryan's beckoning, he surreptitiously follows his lead, managing to weave his way through the crowd with relative ease. They ventured out onto the patio, cool night air rushing to embrace them the moment Ryan opened the sliding door, and something in Shane settles with a content sigh as he makes himself comfortable in one of the seats, stretching his limbs out.

"Man, I forgot how into it your family gets when it comes to these things for one hot minute there."

His remark is met with an amused snort from his companion as he settles into the seat next to Shane, holding a bottle of beer out towards Shane.

"Never let it be said that the Bergaras don't know how to fuckin party."

"Mhm." He snags the neck of the bottle with his fingers and takes advantage of the pause to take a swig appreciatively, allowing the familiar wash of warmth alcohol brings to wash over him. Though the foundation of their friendship had been built through bantering that's been known to go on for far too long, there were little moments like this interspersed into it too. And Shane grows to appreciate them as much as he does everything else.

He stays in silence with Ryan for an undetermined length of time, content to lose himself in watching the stars and taking liberal sips out of his own bottle of beer. If this had been someone else, he would probably already have been itching to say something else, compelled to break things up with anything so as to ease the awkwardness. But there's nothing awkward about this. He doesn't have to rattle off topics from the top of his head or feel like he has to occupy Ryan's time somehow. This...it's nice.

The only snag in this whole deal keeping Shane from completely relaxing would be the fact that he couldn't help but notice Ryan fidgeting with his own bottle of beer. Without even having to clarify, Shane knows that it's a given sign that his friend is deep in thought. Leave him alone and he might even start talking to himself again. Still, as tempting as it was to point it out, Shane waits. If it's anything pressing, there's no doubt Ryan would speak up about it when he's ready.

And he does. In that slightly rushed 'gotta get it out quick' way he does when he's about to broach a sensitive subject.

"Shane. Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Laughter spills from him when Ryan fixes him with an incredulous look and rolls his eyes. "Hey don't blame it on me- you walked into that one yourself. But...go for it. Shoot."

"Right. You know what? Whatever...So- this is probably going to make me sound like an ass but I've been thinking about, you know, the time when you told me all that stuff in the car."

Against his own volition, Shane could feel his own brows raising. Where's Ryan going with that? He takes a quiet inhale, more so to quell instinctive defensiveness and keeps his tone light. Diplomatic. No point scaring the little guy off the subject. Then again, Ryan's never really truly daunted by something enough to avoid it completely so it'd only be counterproductive to even try. Shane made a promise not to....deliberately play his cards. Not on him. And he intends to keep that promise. "Well. It's not exactly a conversation that's easily forgotten. What about it?"

The gentle prompting seems to work because Ryan gets that expression on his face again and he speaks instead of dismissing it.

"Back then. You mentioned that you get impulses. And you also said that you don't always know the right thing to do or say. Which leads me to wonder- how do you...uh...how do you figure it out?"

"I don't, Ryan. That's the whole point. No really." With some semblance of reluctance, Shane sets his own bottle of beer down. If they were really going to be having this talk, he'd at least want to be sober enough to remember what he said. "I may seem like I do but I really don't. Most of what I know to do or say comes from visual cues like shows, things I pick up from people in public and stuff like that." I pick things up from you.

"What, so you just choose whatever you know, toss it out and hope for the best?"

The mood of the conversation is somewhat shattered when they both simultaneously cracked up at Ryan's choice of wording.

Shane has to make an effort to stifle his amusement before he could carry on. "Not the way I'd phrase it but that's basically what it is. I...don't like not knowing, so I pay attention to the little details people miss. If you pay attention to the details, sometimes you get what people want you to say or do. Say...if a man my height approached you out of nowhere asking for directions in the middle of an empty parking lot at 3 AM in the morning, you'd be more than a bit spooked. But if I were to you know, stand a bit further away...maybe stumble over my steps a little and shit like that, you'd be like- Oh it's just another drunk dude, he's fine. I can take him if something goes wrong. It's the same thing for everyday conversation. I just...study people."

Now it's apparently his companion's turn to raise his brows.

"Wait. So this whole time your dissociation bits-" "No, those were silly goofs. Thought I'd throw them in there to you know, spice things up."

"...Okay that's fair. But...you study people."

"Yeah. You know the whole-" Shane breaks off to allow his expression to slacken, solely focusing on Ryan with his gaze for a period of time. "The whole staring deal that's always seen in those sensationalised shows. That's mostly just my trying to figure shit out face. Most of the time I'm sizing people up and measuring their reactions. Thinking about how they're most likely to react if I said did or said one thing compared to another. I'm told it comes off as creepy so I try not to do it that often. Unless you count the times I'm trying to give someone a right spook."

By the time Shane finishes his explanations, Ryan's nodding with the air of a man trying to process things with another question lined up at the same time. To his credit, he does well in filing Shane's closely guarded tidbit away before he continues on.

"But what about the whole impulse thing? I mean I know you're probably experienced enough to know what not to do and what to ignore. But...how did you go about identifying, you know what I mean? I'm sure that not all of your impulses are as...clear?"

Trust him to come up with questions that leave Shane feeling both exposed and alarmed at the same time.

"Someone's been doing their research."

His instinct to distract and retreat is somewhat mollified by the flash of alarm and guilt on Ryan's features.

"No what- shit, sorry. I didn't mean to like treat you as a- I just wanted to understand you better. I wanted to know what you're dealing with-" "I know, I know. It's fine, Ryan." A quick squeeze to Ryan's wrist has tension bleeding out from him, though he still looks unsure. Right. That was a bad move. At the very least, Shane's successful in getting him to calm down though. He's going to have to do better next time.

"It was a bumpy patch. I had to learn the hard way but I think that's how it is for most people too." Shane releases his companion's wrist once he's certain that Ryan is more settled. "I think a lot of people, myself included, have trouble accepting what they don't understand. Because it's a part of how our brains are wired- we want things to make sense. I had to learn to look for ah..supporting evidence since what doesn't necessarily make sense to me, makes sense to others and it's only frustrating if I try to force myself to see in a perspective I don't have. I had to figure out how to acknowledge it, respect it and focus on compromises."

The ends of his lips curved up into a wry smile when he continued on, shoulders rolling in a shrug.

"Not for the lack of wishing that I could relate without doing all that though. But if you're talking about morals, I'd say that I have...rules instead because we both know my 'morals' are questionable at best."

That earned a short bark of laughter from Ryan. Better.

"Rules?"

"Yeah. I do the things I have to do to adapt and some of the things I do, aren't the prettiest even if they are necessary. I just...have rules I remember to keep me from forgetting why I do certain things. And why I don't. I try. For myself."

Admittedly it took a little effort to meet Ryan's open gaze again.

"For certain people." For you.

If his eyes tracked the way Ryan swallows when comprehension sets in, that's only for Shane to know.

Expressions flicker on Ryan's features before he appears to finally settle on one. "Whoa. That's a lot to unpack."

Shane finds stability in the heat of his palm when Ryan reaches out to clasp at his bicep and squeeze. "Thanks. Sorry I made you tell me all of that."

"Please. If I hadn't wanted to tell you, I wouldn't have done so." After a brief moment of hesitation, Shane places his own hand atop of Ryan's, patting lightly.

"Right. So now that I've been put through the wringer, it's your turn to be in the hot seat. I have a few questions for you too, Inspector."

"Oh God." Warmth blossoms in his chest, not unpleasantly so, when Ryan makes a show of rolling his eyes at him again. For added effect, he shifts to the edge of his seat so that he was as close to Ryan as he was going to get and squints comically. Shane doesn't really have anything in mind, but it was entertaining to watch Ryan rile himself up before he declares the truth and gets another one of Shane's favourite laughs out of him.

Before he could execute his plan however, the sliding door leading to the patio opened and out peeked the head of Mrs Bergara who promptly lights up at the sight of them both. She offers Shane a wave, in which he returns. Then she turns to Ryan and offers him a not so subtle thumbs up, to which his friend makes a show of collapsing in a dramatic groan and makes a face back in return.

To his credit, Shane has the decency to wait til Ryan's mom closes the door and leaves before he gets on Ryan's case about it. "What was that about?"

The background lights of the patio weren't as strong as they ought to be but Shane thinks he could make out the starts of a blush from his companion. Finally, he gets his answer even when it's accompanied with flustered gesturing.

"She apparently thinks that we- that I have a- she thinks we have a thing going on, okay?"

"Is that why I keep getting invited to your 'family only' barbecues?"

It's a miracle that Ryan didn't give himself whiplash when he looks up from his hands to stare at Shane in disbelief, mouth slightly open to gape.

"You knew about THAT?"

"Told you I notice things." Shane's openly grinning now. "You aren't slick, Mr 'I'm so subtle' Bergara. Besides it's hard not to notice when you don't invite anyone else along and the only strangers that are present were the significant others of your cousins."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know, Ryan. Why don't you practise what you preach and just ask me out instead of dancing around the subject for months?"

"....You little shit."

Shane really has to laugh now when Ryan moves to give him a playful shove and succeeds in pitching him and his chair off balance to which two things happened: He falls backwards and Ryan reaches out in surprise, attempting to catch him, only to be pulled along with him when Shane pulls him forward. Sure he gets the wind knocked out of him when he lands and bears majority of Ryan's weight on top of him. But his fall is cushioned by the lawn grass and for the first time in a while, Shane feels lighter. Whole.

He feels Ryan's shoulders shake before he's sprawling properly on Shane and joins him in losing his shit at the ridiculous and frankly out of place turn of events. They laugh until they run out of air but Ryan doesn't move away or leave. Instead, his companion stayed right where he was. Looking. At him. The open affection in his eyes has Shane's laughter finally dying.

"I didn't think that I had the option to do so." Ryan's admission is soft when he replies. "And maybe I meant what I said when I told you that you were important to me too. Maybe I didn't want to fuck whatever it is we have up without-"

"Ryan." Honestly. This man. Shane shifts so that he could cup his companion's cheeks. "Didn't we promise we were going to tell each other what we need when we have to? I meant what I said too. You worry too much."

They've already come so far since then. So why stop now, really?

"Can I try something?"

"I...Yeah. You can."

It's not perfect, considering how Shane has to crane his head forward to do so but Ryan meets him in the middle, allowing him to guide him closer so that Shane could press their lips together in a kiss- tentative, awkward, unbelievably chaste but it curls sweetly in his insides nonetheless.

"Was that okay?" "Hm. I don't know. Might have to do that again a couple more times."

He gets a laugh in before Ryan covers his lips with his own once more.

When they finally return back to the living room to help clean up the aftermath of the party, Ryan's mom does not take long to notice the wet grass stains on their clothes and their suspiciously pink lips. Shane spots the exact moment comprehension dawns on her because she's beaming at him like he's personally responsible for lining the stars in the night sky before they were both roped back into the cleanup process.

"I heard that it might start storming in a bit. Would you be cool with staying the night?" "Would you be cool with staying forever?"

Shane doubles over, wheezing with laughter at Ryan's expression and his mom's smug look. Oh he could definitely get used to this.

#skeptic believer #shyan #shyanlibrary #myfics #[ idk but the idea of being able to confront serious subjects and still joke about shit later makes me feel normal. so thats what i did here

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crimsxnflxwerz · 7 years ago

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the door rating: teen fandom: buzzfeed unsolved [coraline au] pairing: ryan bergara & shane madej summary: “Don’t you want this?” the other Shane says, and his shiny, deep brown button eyes gleam in the low light. Another firework splits the sky like lightning, but this time Ryan can feel it in his gut, can feel the wrongness grip his body like the cold. “Everything you’ve ever wanted, it can be yours. If only you stay here, with me.” Ryan just wanted to love and be loved in return. When did this become such a mess? author notes: bear with me omg

“Help me unpack, Ryan.” His mother asked, stepping out of their car.

“Fine,” Ryan said, shoving his phone into his pocket, before getting out as well.

Ryan hated moving. He wished that he could just stay in one place. So many of his friends stayed in place, planted and left to flower. Not him, though, he swore he was destined to get uprooted each time. Just when he’d thought he could settle down here, he could survive this new climate and endure this new environment, he was ripped away from it. It made him feel lonely. Though he always managed to round up a few friends in each place, as he grew up, it had been getting harder and harder to do that.

He knew his parents’ divorce would ultimately be really hard on him. His father was the one that kept them anchored in one place, and his mother would travel often. After they split, and his mother got total custody of him, he prepared himself for a move. He would see his father once a month, well hypothetically, but it never really worked out. His father did send him letters and gifts occasionally. He guessed he couldn’t be disappointed if he hadn’t had any expectations in the first place.

Together, they managed to move all the boxes into their new house rather quickly. They were only two people, so they didn’t exactly have that many possessions. The major things had already been taken care of by the movers, like beds and other furniture. They decided that they would unpack things they needed immediately today, and the rest later.

Ryan stood in his new kitchen, turning the faucet on and off, staring out the window.

“Ryan, why don’t you go play outside?” his mother suggested. She sat at the round, two-person table in the middle of the room with her notebook and laptop. His mother was a reporter, taking notes on interesting current events, and travelling around to find better places to write about and inspire her. She moved to the small town in Oregon. It was isolated, but that was what made it interesting. Recently, Ryan noticed that his mother’s interest had been piqued while researching urban folklore. Small towns tended to run rampant with stories and tall tales. Living in one would give her perspective.

Ryan wasn’t too hyped about it. Before this, he only ever lived in or around cities. While each place they lived had it’s differences, they all had things in common with city living. Small, loud, busy. He always had something to do and somewhere to be in the city. No matter the time of day, something was going on. Sure, there were things he didn’t miss about the city, too. Like traffic, and pollution, and having no real place to go if he wanted to just roll around in some grass or something.

Ryan rolled his eyes and turned the faucet off. Outside there were barely any other houses, mostly trees and shrubbery for miles. The spectacle of messing around outside wore off after the last place they lived when he stepped on a rusted nail and needed to get a tetanus shot and stitches in his foot.

“It’s raining out, though.” He complained, trying to think of a good reason to just stay inside and do nothing.

“Oh, that reminds me, I have a present for you.” His mother said, and stood up to go into her bedroom. Ryan watched her go, and saw that she was carrying a flat box. She opened it and lifted out a lemon-yellow raincoat. She held it out to him.

“I got you think since we moved to somewhere that’s known to be rainier,” she explained. “I know you don’t have a raincoat, so I thought you might need one.”

Ryan’s face lit up slightly. He took the raincoat and felt it against his hands. It was soft, despite its rubbery texture to keep out the rainwater. He slipped it on and grinned happily.

“Thanks mom!” he said, hugging her briefly, before going towards the front door.

“Be back by dinner, kiddo!” she called after him. He ran to get his boots. He had two pairs of thin, rubbery boots from the city. One of them perfectly matched his new coat, so he slipped those on. He didn’t have much in terms of colorful clothing items, so the yellow was a stark contrast to the black pants and socks he wore.

He ran outside. It wasn’t raining too hard anymore, just a little drizzle, but he put the hood to his coat up anyways. As soon as he was outside, he looked around for something weird to explore. The neighbors were pretty far away, and he wasn’t really too interested in making friends right now anyways, so he scrapped that idea pretty quickly. After a moment, he spotted a stone path leading down a hill off the side of their house.

“Mmm, perfect,” he muttered under his breath, and began to follow it. The path was made of mis-matched stones, like a garden path, taking a long curve down the hill so that the slope was gradual instead of dramatic. As he walked down the path, he noticed that the thick line of trees didn’t start for another few yards. Instead, there was a large, grassy clearing with clusters of grey boulders and stones scattered about. Looking down towards the bottom, he saw that the trail turned into dirt. Well, it was likely mud now in this weather.

To his left there was a cluster of rocks. A rustling drew Ryan’s attention. He looked over, but didn’t see anything that made the noise immediately.

“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone there?”

He shuffled his feet nervously, plunging his hands deep in his coat pocket. He found some lint there, which he tossed out, watching it fall to the ground. Just as he turned, he heard more rustling, and a low growling. He started, turning to run the rest of the way down the hill. At the bottom, he hit a patch of mud and fell heavily onto his knee.

“Ahh!” he yelped, clutching his knee. He sat up, brushing off dirt and mud from his clothes. He saw that he’d managed to land on a rock. There was a large tear in his pants, and a gash in his knee that was bleeding. He sucked in a breath as rainwater dripped down into the cut.

“Dang,” he whispered, and shakily got back onto his feet. He shivered, the world around him looking a lot darker now than before. He moved on further down the trail into a thin patch of trees. The ground was muddy, but also rocky. Ryan took care not to slip again, his knee throbbing painfully. He let out a sigh, coming up to a rather large fallen tree. As he approached it, however, he heard the rustling again. His entire body stiffened in horror.

He knew he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help but feel fearful in a new place. He didn’t know what lived in Oregon, there could be a bear stalking him for all he knew!

Just as he was backing away, a white blur pounced out from behind the log. Ryan screamed, but then quickly realized that it wasn’t something to be scared of after all. It was just a dog. Ryan recognized it as some kind of white terrier. It barked at him, before trotting up and sniffing at his feet. Ryan saw that it was mostly white, except for a single brown and black ear. Ryan giggled.

“Are you the thing that was scaring me?” he asked. The dog looked up at him and tilted its head to the side. It didn’t have a collar, so he wasn’t sure if it were a stray or not.

The dog barked again, wagging its tail rapidly, before trotting off along the path towards where it seemed to be leveling out. Ryan followed it hesitantly, and came upon an old, decrepit clearing that looked like it used to be something. In the center of the clearing, the dog sniffed around a raised circular section. It was covered in mud in lumps, but some places were cleared enough to reveal rotted wood.

Before he could move closer, he was startled by a loud revving noise. The dog started barking at the surprise. Down the hill came a cloaked figure on a motorbike of some kind. They drove around them and skidded to a halt on the other side of the clearing. Ryan took a closer look and saw that it looked to be a boy, older than him, with a checkered bandana covering his nose and mouth. On his head was a go-pro camera attached to a head strap. It made his damp hair stick out in odd directions around it.

He kicked off the bike, turning it off and stepping onto the muddy ground. The dog yapped some more, running over to the boy and running up on him. Once he was standing straight up, Ryan saw that he was very tall. He had at least five or six inches on him, which was a lot, at least in Ryan’s mind. It was kind of intimidating. Although, most of the intimidation wore off when he saw the big guy practically melt petting the yappy white dog.

“I was wondering where you got off to!” he laughed, rubbing the dog behind its ears. “Who’s a good puppy, you are! You found the new kid!”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Hey, I’m right here?” he called out.

The big guy gave the dog a few more pats, before looking over at Ryan. He pulled the bandana down to reveal his face. Ryan tried not to blush. The guy was pretty cute.

“Yeah,” he said. He approached, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Ryan noticed that he tended to slouch. Does that mean he’s actually even taller? “You’re the new kid. I’m Shane.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Yeah, I’m Ryan.”

“Ryan? Can I call you Ry?” Shane asked. He had a casual face, even though his body language screamed nervous. Ryan crossed his arms.

“No.”

“Okay, Ry.” Shane said. He turned back towards the thing that the dog was sniffing at earlier. “Do you know what this is, Ry?”

“Don’t call me that,” Ryan snipped, then joined Shane, crouched by the circle in the center of the clearing. Shane picked up a small pebble and brushed some dirt away with a gloved hand, revealing a small hole in the wood.

“Watch,” he said, and pushed the pebble down into the hole. For a long time, there wasn’t a single noise, not a ping or a splash or anything to imply that the pebble had landed yet. Ryan could have sworn that the pebble continuously dropped for around thirty seconds until a very distant plop reverberated up to them.

“It’s a well?” Ryan asked. “That’s a long fall. Isn’t this, uh, dangerous?”

Shane laughed. “Of course, it is. Well, as long as you don’t fall in, you’ll be fine! But no one’s going to fill it in. No one fixes anything in this town.”

Shane stood, the dog coming around to rub against his leg. Ryan winced when he straightened up, accidentally leaning the heel of his hand into his wounded knee. Shane did a double-take of Ryan’s leg, and suddenly looked alarmed.

“Is that blood? Ry, are you okay?” Shane asked, sounding a little panicked.

“Calm down, will ya?” Ryan snapped. He looked down and saw that there was dried blood and mud caked onto his exposed knee. “It’s just a cut.”

“You’re going to get it infected.” Shane fretted. He held out an arm as if to grab Ryan’s wrist, but stopped himself at the last second, looking to Ryan’s face for permission. “Can I carry you?”

“No, no, no, no.” Ryan said. But something in his voice must’ve sounded like a yes, because Shane smirked and scooped Ryan up into his arms. He paused, however.

“Oh, my bike.” He said. “Want to hop onto my back, instead?”

Ryan was completely red in the face when Shane put him back down. He nodded without a fight and climbed onto Shane’s back, wrapping his arms around the taller boy’s neck and his legs around his waist. Shane walked over to his bike and hopped on, Ryan moving down to sit on the back end, transferring his arms around Shane’s neck, to his waist. Shane started up the bike and drove up the path, the dog barking and chasing after them.

When they got to Ryan’s front porch, he hopped off the bike and went to sit on the steps. Shane kicked the bike stand down and followed Ryan to the porch.

“Ah, the pink palace.” Shane said thoughtfully. “Oh yeah, you’re the new family that moved in here.”

“The pink palace?” Ryan asked, wincing again as he tried to wipe some of the mud off his knee. Shane noticed and went to his bike. There was a container strapped to the back. He unzipped it and pulled a few things out, including water, a small white bottle, a white hand towel, and a linen wrapping. He came over with the supplies, setting them on the porch.

“Yeah, my grandmother owns the pink palace. Was her parents place, but they moved out a long time ago.” He explained, rolling Ryan’s ripped pant leg up. “Wanna take your shoe and sock off? I don’t want to get them wet.”

Ryan slid his boot and sock off, putting them aside. Shane wiped some mud away with the towel, then poured some water on it and wiped more off until it was mostly cleaned out. The cleaning opened it back up, and it bled a little bit.

“Why’d they move out?” Ryan asked. He looked up at the looming house. It was the first time he got a really good look at it. Right now, it was sectioned off into three apartments. He and his mother had the middle section. “It must’ve been so big all opened up.”

“Well, when my grandmother was just a little girl, she had a sister.” Shane explained. “Her sister stopped playing with her, and would fight with their parents more and more until she finally disappeared. My grandmother says she was taken away by something in the house.”

“Something in the house?” Ryan asked. Shane uncapped the white bottle and squirted out some white paste onto his fingers. He rubbed them together before rubbing it into the gash. Ryan bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. He didn’t want to look like a total wuss. “Did the sister ever come back?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Shane paused, before rolling out a portion of the bandage and ripping it with his teeth. He started wrapping. “She didn’t have a sister. Well, she does have this picture in her attic of her with a girl who looks very similar to her, but no one seems to remember her sister.”

Ryan felt like he should gasp at the revelation. “So, who’s in the picture, then?”

Shane shook his head. “I only ever saw it once. If my parents never told me otherwise, I would have assumed it was her sister.” He ripped off a piece of medical tape and finished the wrapping. “Feel better?”

Ryan smiled. “Yeah.” He blushed. “Thanks, Shane. Why do you have all these supplies?”

“Oh, I’m outside a lot and,” he paused, scratching the back of his head. “I like to be prepared.”

The dog from earlier came running up from behind the house then, jumping up onto the porch and licking at Ryan’s cheek.

“Haha, get down!” he shooed the dog. Shane rubbed the dog behind its ears. “Is it your dog?”

“Ah, no,” Shane said, sounding a little disappointed. “Ma won’t let me have a dog, but this puppy likes me well enough. I feed him half my lunchmeat sandwiches, and he gives me company when I go searching for bigfoot.”

“Bigfoot? You know that’s not real, right?” Ryan teased, rolling down his pant leg and grabbing his sock and boot. Shane simply laughed.

“That’s what everyone says, but I know that he’s real,” he said. He stepped back and motioned at his camera. “I’m gonna catch bigfoot, and his bigfoot wife, and his bigfoot children on my go-pro I got for my birthday.”

Ryan wheezed in laughter as Shane bent over to collect his medical supplies. He went over to put them back in his bike pack. Ryan hopped up to walk over after his boot was on.

“Well, good luck,” he said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Do you think I could join you on a hunt sometime?”

Shane turned and grinned. He reached out and ruffled Ryan’s hair. To Ryan, Shane’s hand was quite large. He was just a big, tall guy in general. Ryan blushed. He felt like a child in comparison. He was fifteen, damnit.

“Of course! Oh, we also look for gnomes,” he added. “I know they’re real, where else do all my left socks go?”

Ryan laughed again, and Shane chuckled a bit, too. “Sounds like fun.”

Shane nodded. “If you want, we can go out tomorrow. Just meet me here around 3:30?”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. The white dog ran over and circled them a few times, barking.

“Hey, calm down pup!” Shane said, laughing. The dog growled playfully, before darting off in the direction of the neighbor’s house. “Wait up!” Shane called out, but he paused, “See you around?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, you will.” He said. Shane hopped onto his bike then and started it up, driving in the direction of the stray dog.

Ryan stood outside a little bit longer, staring off in the direction where Shane went off. He stood there in the rain until he heard his mother calling him in to dinner. After dinner, he curled up in his bed. He stared blankly at his bare walls for a moment, mentally putting together everything he would put up tomorrow to decorate his room. This might not be what he would call home, but he could make it work. He was going to be here for a while, anyways.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, and dreamt of goofy smiles and little white dogs.

#coraline au #shyan #buzzfeed unsolved #bfu coraline au #my fic #me

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brentbennett · 7 years ago

Note

Are you still taking prompts? If so: Shane + Ryan + a witch = ? Do what you like with it!

a/n: i haven’t read the sixth harry potter in a long time, so sorry if i don’t get the effects of amortentia/ryan’s behavior right lmfao. this also turned a lot angstier than i intended? oops.

The steam rising from the cauldron is enough to make Shane’s glasses fog up. Instantly, he’s blinded, but even so, he’s careful to not move around too much; he doesn’t want this potion to boil over, after all. Slowly, he takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. When he’s done, he jams them back on his face with enough time to register Professor Slughorn coming over to his work station.

“Ah, very nice,” Slughorn says, complimentary. Shane gives him a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, Professor,” he replies. Potions has always been his strong suit, after all.

“May I ask…..what do you smell?” Slughorn asks, a curious look in his eye. Around him, the class falls silent; very few of them though they are, the entire class takes note whenever someone succeeds in something. NEWT level potions is competitive and exclusive, and that never stops being true, not even in their seventh year.

Shane swallows for a minute, his eyes flickering to the workstation across from him. He can see Ryan struggling to clean up his amortentia; instead of the characteristic mother-of-pearl sheen, Ryan’s potion is yellow, the wrong color entirely. Still, there’s something almost charming about the way he stumbles over himself in an effort to take out his wand so that he can clean up the mess. It’s oddly endearing, and Shane’s heart clenches painfully, threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Uh,” Shane starts dumbly. He tears his gaze away from Ryan and looks Slughorn in the eye. It shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it is, but Ryan’s right there and would probably laugh at him if he said why, it smells like my best friend in the whole world.

Gah, he doesn’t want to ruin this.

So Shane takes a deep breath and pretends to waft the scent. With a hesitant voice, he says, “It smells like…freshly mowed grass, spearmint toothpaste, and uh…” he trails off, a blush staining his cheeks.

“Go on,” Slughorn encourages, and Shane bites his lip, thinking. How does one describe the scent of Ryan Bergara? How can he possibly begin to relate the way Ryan smells when he comes back from Quidditch practice, soaked to the bone and covered in mud? How can he possible even start with the way that Ryan always smells so safe and warm, like a hug and a beverage all in one? How can he illustrate the way that Ryan smells in the mornings, freshly showered and ready for breakfast?

“And sunshine,” Shane continues, and he wants to hit himself. How can he describe the way sunshine smells? Now Slughorn is gonna think he’s stupid and the whole class is gonna laugh and Ryan - Ryan is looking at him with a kind of intensity that makes Shane’s blush come back. Thankfully, he can play off his redness due to the heat of the room.

“That’s very interesting. What does sunshine smell like?” Slughorn prompts, and Shane lowers his eyes. Why did he have to make everything so damn awkward?

Thankfully, he’s saved by the bell; Slughorn stops grilling him and walks back to the front of the class to assign homework. As fast as he can, Shane packs up; he’s already embarrassed and he doesn’t need the scrutinizing stares of his classmates to follow him. He leaves so quickly, he doesn’t see the petite little witch hovering around the remnants of his potion.

Shane is in the Ravenclaw common room when it happens; one minute, he’s steadily getting through the Transfiguration homework McGonagall assigned, and next, Ryan Bergara bursts through the double doors looking like a deer in headlights. Normally, this wouldn’t worry Shane - Ryan gets up to a whole bunch of wacky things, after all - but Ryan is uncharacteristically silent.

“Ryan? What’s up?” Shane asks, getting up off the couch. It’s entirely too late for Ryan’s shenanigans, and besides, it’s almost curfew! Ryan has to patrol the corridors soon as part of his prefect duties, but he obviously can’t do that if he looks dumbfounded in the Ravenclaw common room.

“I’m in love with you,” Ryan says, smiling almost manically. Although he looks out of it, he sounds so sincere. That is, until Shane realizes Ryan looks entirely too pale. Truth be told, he looks like he’s going to throw up all over the carpet, and there’s something about his tone of voice that screams instability.

Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he remembers Slughorn’s lecture. It seems like a millennia ago, but the words stick out nonetheless. The effects of amortentia on a person are instantaneous, with the person who drank it appearing to be ‘pale and sickly’, obsessive, excited, and dangerously unstable towards others.

Well, Ryan is most of those things on a daily basis, but when Brent furiously crosses the common room looking as though he fell into a suit of armor, Shane’s suspicions are confirmed and his heart breaks a little.

“That’s just the potion talking,” he says, tugging on Ryan’s sleeve. He carefully leads Ryan to the couch, moving his schoolwork as he does so.

“No, Shane, you don’t understand. I love you so much it feels like my heart is going to explode. Like, every time I think of you I get this pain in my chest and there’s butterflies in my stomach and - and you’re so pretty, Shane, can I kiss you?” Ryan asks, rambling. He leans in but Shane places a hand on Ryan’s chest, gently guiding him back onto the couch. Shane has half a mind to pick Ryan up and place him onto the four poster bed upstairs, but Ryan gives him such sweet puppy dog eyes that Shane can’t bring himself to go through with it. Instead, Ryan attaches himself to Shane’s person; he hugs Shane with everything he has, and Shane almost topples over. He awkwardly pats Ryan on the head, sinking onto the couch as he does so.

“You’re not in your right mind, Bergara,” Shane responds, sighing. He can’t let himself think that Ryan’s affections are real. He’s under the effects of a love potion, after all. He turns to Brent, who has mostly succeeded in taking off the suit of armor. “Come collect your friend.”

“He’s your friend too,” Brent reminds him with an eyeroll. Oh yeah, we’re friends, Shane thinks with a pang of guilt in his chest, and it’s a hard potion to swallow; romantic feelings could ultimately ruin everything between them. Shane absolutely cannot lose Ryan, not for something as dumb as a teenage infatuation.

Ryan, meanwhile, is looking at Shane like he himself has hung the stars. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he occupies himself by staring at Shane like he’s trying to memorize the contours of his face, like he’s going to forget what Shane looks like if he looks away. It’s almost creepy because Ryan is so close, but at least he’s quiet for the time being.

“What happened to him?” Shane asks. He’s genuinely curious as to how Ryan ended up ingesting amortentia. Usually, Slughorn is very good about the disposing of potions, but perhaps something went wrong?

“I think he might have eaten something,” Brent says, shaking his head. “One minute, we’re both in the Hufflepuff common room doing homework and the next, Ryan looks like he’s been punched. He practically ran here with no explanation and I went after him.”

“Do you know what he ate?” Shane asks. He’s running through the antidote in his mind, trying to see if he can brew it in a realistic amount of time. If anything, he can sneak down to the dungeons and swipe some from Slughorn’s office, but he’ll probably be in detention for a week if he gets caught after curfew by a prefect.

“Well, someone brought snacks up to the common room. I think a sixth year witch brought cauldron cakes and popcorn?” Brent supplies.

Ah, popcorn. Our favorite thing to eat in the world. I don’t blame him, Shane thinks. At the mention of said savory snack, Ryan perks up and disentangles him from Shane.

“Come on, let’s go get some popcorn. I heard it’s great first date food,” Ryan suggests. He laces his fingers with Shane’s and pulls the Ravenclaw off the couch and towards the door. “Later, Brant!” Ryan says, giving Brent a half wave.

Shane just shrugs, going along with it. He mouths a ‘sorry’ in Brent’s direction (and tries not to laugh at Brent’s disgruntled expression) and lets Ryan lead him out of the common room. Instead of going to the kitchens, though, he very subtly leads Ryan in the direction of the dungeons.

“I love you,” Ryan says every so often, often enough to make Shane’s heart clench on command. He knows Ryan’s words are the effect of the potion; there’s no way he’d be saying the same if he was in his right mind. There’s no way that Ryan could ever truly love Shane back, not when Shane is curious to a fault, when he stays up late doing homework (and stays up even later pondering the complexities of morality), when he can’t even keep a flobberworm alive? Is there anything really worth loving?

“Why can’t you say it back?” Ryan asks, a little angry. The grip he has on Shane’s hand tightens ever so slightly, and he looks at Shane with burning eyes. Oddly, Ryan’s eyes look very clear, like he knows what he’s saying, like he’s not under the influence of a love potion.

“Because you don’t love me, not really. You wouldn’t be saying this on a normal day,” Shane says. The corridors are getting darker as they travel farther and farther down the castle. Shane guides them carefully through the halls, skillfully avoided prefects and ghosts alike.

Ryan doesn’t get a chance to respond because soon enough, Shane is pushing the door to the classroom open, dropping Ryan’s hand as he does so. He makes his way to the front of the class, where Slughorn very conveniently left the antidote.

“Here, take this,” Shane says, pushing it into Ryan’s hand. The Hufflepuff just looks at him blankly.

“This isn’t popcorn,” he observes. He tries to give Shane the vial back but just ends up holding his hand again. It makes Shane laugh.

“No, but it’s a snack better than popcorn,” he replies, fishing the bottle out from between their hands.

“I really doubt that,” Ryan says, but he drinks the antidote anyway. The way he comes back to himself is almost startling; instead of that faraway, barely there look Ryan had in his eyes before, everything looks clear now. Ryan no longer looks crazed, and when he fully comes to and realizes what happened, when he realizes what he’s said and done whilst being under the effects of a potion, he drops the vial.

It shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces as Ryan bolts towards the door.

Breakfast the next day is awkward, to say the least. Usually, Ryan will leave the Hufflepuff table and eat with Shane, but he’s alone under the blue and bronze this morning. Ryan doesn’t even appear to be at breakfast, and that makes Shane very, very worried. He debates showing up to the Hufflepuff common room, but his schedule is packed today and he really can’t afford to skip class.

Shane doesn’t see Ryan very much at all. Something inside him whispers, he’s ignoring you and that makes Shane upset the entire day. None of this is his fault at all! But he’s mature enough to believe that he and Ryan will get through this; they only have a few months at Hogwarts left before they have to be adults and interact with the real world, so they might as well make the most of it while they’re here. I don’t want us to drift apart, to never talk to each other again, to get different jobs in different parts of the wizarding world and grow apart from each other just because of some stupid potion, Shane thinks.

He ends up by the Quidditch pitch after getting lost in thought, and he sees Ryan, alone, clad in yellow and black, taking his frustration out on a Bludger. Shane admires Ryan’s arms, and perhaps he’s staring a little too much, because Ryan glances over at him and then has to narrowly avoid being bludgeoned to death. Somehow, he manages to immobilize the Bludger so that it stops going after him, and he flies down onto the stands so that he can talk to Shane properly.

“Hey,” Shane says, uncertain. Are they okay? Is Ryan going to tell him they can’t be friends anymore? The very thought hurts him to the point where he flinches when Ryan replies.

“Hey,” Ryan says, shoving his hands into his pockets. And then, “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” The grin he gives Shane is enough to momentarily assuage Shane’s worry.

“About yesterday, Ry, I -” the words tumble out of his mouth before he gets a chance to think about what he’s saying, but Ryan cuts him off anyway.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He averts his gaze on purpose, staring at his shoes. “I really am in love with you. I have been for a few years now.” The confession comes out shaky, like Ryan’s about to cry, like his voice is a second away from cracking. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” He’s openly crying now, tears falling at much too rapid a pace. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Shane immediately wraps his arms around Ryan and rests his head on top of Ryan’s. “I could never hate you, Ry,” he whispers into Ryan’s hair. “And maybe I love you too.”

Ryan pulls away from the hug, stunned. “You mean it?” he asks, eyes wide. Shane nods.

“Of course,” he responds, smiling.

“Good,” Ryan says back. He pulls Shane into the lightest of kisses. “I’m glad.”

“So am I,” Shane responds, drawing him in for a proper kiss. “So am I.”

#i'm not 100% satisfied w this esp the ending #but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#thanks for this prompt!!!! i really liked imagining them in the wizarding world lol #spoopyy writes #shyan #fanfic #also this turned into something completely different?#when i first read the prompt i was tempted to write about them in salem but i couldn't think of anything so hogwarts au it is

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worth-it-dump-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Stars and the taste of wine

Chapter 1:

The tantalizing music made the smoke and warm currents in the room quiver as the patrons of the lonely bar slowly swayed. The singer pretended the room was empty as slow tones penetrated the hearts of any who actually listened to foreign words that felt like a river of molasses in a blue moon-soaked forest on the verge of catching fire. The pianist tried to just keep the melody alive, as it took twists and turns that no one, not even the players themselves really expected. But they were a team, the singer and the pianist. They fit and were almost one being as they produced sounds that would fill the room now but just be a hazy and warm memory for the patrons later. This was no special night. This hadn´t been a special week. The bar on the hectic street seemed the same as always. The guests were the same mix of regulars, new faces and lonely ghosts that drifted in every few months or so. This was no special night. It had no plans to become extraordinary either. So… what was this sense of foreboding? The bartender, a man with a history of knowing events before their time, took a moment to determine the nature of this shift of feelings. He poured himself a glass, determining there was no danger coming, so he may as well let himself be surprised by the present, not the future. His wine distinctly tasted like a dry summer day. He was slightly weary. The city that never slept certainly had streets asleep in the night. This bar was in a limbo between reality and dream. So, it was no coincidence that everything was in a tight balance. There were the humans whose presence kept the slightly less human patrons in check. Ambrosia looked like white wine after all. The bar had sprung up in the city of New York quite some time ago, but no one really had kept a record. The duo playing never changed in that time, but thanks to a hazy atmosphere hardly anyone noticed or care. The duo was related to the muses in some way, at least the singer, the pianist might have some blood of one of the graces and even Apollon. But like it was said, no one really kept a record of things around here. The owners liked their small reputation and lack of any bigger deities, since that kept things from getting messy. They liked the easy atmosphere and heavy air. The casual mixes, may it be the drinks or the patrons. In their whole times they hardly had any problems here. Creeps were swiftly dealt with and fights were stopped with a flexing doorman´s arms.

So, their dismay was big when they felt the aura of one of the bigger deities enter their little haven. Of course, they still had to be hospitable. But every head in the bar turned. The reality won over the dream. The river of molasses turned clear. The dream was over. And the deity looked ignorant to the attention. All eyes, may they be obvious or subtle, were on his person. He seemed almost unsure now, but still made his way to an empty bar stool. The music continued, but now painted a different picture. It was clearer, like salty foam covering green rocks with grey paint strokes that disappeared in seconds. A cautious yet beautiful melody, slightly distracted as the pianist kept his eyes on the new-comer. Whose hair, like molten silver, and occasional flash of gold in brown eyes made his out-of-this-world-ness obvious. The beauty of eons on a youthful face was fascinating. Yet the natural aura of old power had all the other patrons keep a healthy distance from him. Luckily the bartender seemed brave enough to approach him. They couldn´t afford pissing him off, it didn´t matter that he looked like he wouldn´t hurt a fly. The elusive stranger smiled an honest ray of sunlight as he ordered the sweetest cocktail on the menu with extra ambrosia. The bartender, a quiet soul that exuded warmth from his very being, let the stranger talk a water fall over him, answering in gestures more than in words. The bar settled down and only some of the not entirely human guests were still tense.

“I like this bar… Are you open every night?” the voice was surprisingly nervous, a slight accent playing at the edges of words. It made the powerful deity more sympathetic in the eyes of the bartender. “We- we mostly play it by feelings, so we don´t have set opening times…. Your highness?” the added title was a careful question, meant as a subtle invitation for the stranger for an introduction. The deity laughed and waved him off. “Please! Call me Steven, we´re at a bar, not the Jade Emperors palace.” Steven laughed, a throaty but melodious sound, and took a sip. At least the question of his pantheon was now cleared. Steven leaned closer as if to share a secret, false worried sketched in his face, “But be honest… is it that obvious? Do the others here know?” The bartender quirked a lip under his warm beard. “Well let´s just say, even the mortals noticed you, and they are blinder than the fates without their eye…” “Oh noooo” Steven laughed again and turned some heads in the process. Intelligent and old eyes on a young face kept his gaze of the bartender though. “And your name, Mister Bartender? It´s only fair to exchange names” The bartender raised a strong brow but had to smile at the deity’s antics. “Well, I go as Adam around here” they both knew the names, Steven and Adam, weren’t their original names, but it was hardly important in these circumstances. They felt right enough.

The music had been slowly transforming its tone during their slow conversation. It reminded of a hazy lilac sky whose orange stars slowly fell and left shining streaks in their wake. Adam knew, the duo would take a break soon. The bar and it´s staff developed their own rhythm and non-verbal language over the decades, and Adam recognized starry melodies as the duos need for a break. Steven seemed enchanted by the music. And Adam felt more talkative and jolly than normally: “What do you see when you hear it?” Steven pondered the question with closed eyes and slightly parted lips as he listened more closely. “It feels like flying. And falling? I think? It´s just- I see the night sky and I am- the stars are slowly descending, but not in a threatening way. It´s peaceful…” Adam smiled slightly, is this a clue? Did he have a star sitting across him? Or even a constellation? Steven almost shined with glee as Adam recounted his own music-fueled visions. “It´s truly amazing how music can do that!” The duo ended their song, though it didn´t sound like a real ending and bowed swiftly as the whole bar clapped and whooped. The pianist came over, while the singer chose to get lost in the crowd. He made himself comfortable next to Adam and started mixing himself a drink. Towards the deity he gave a slow nod, that may have been an implied bow, not daring to not recognize the presence of someone with that kind of power oozing into their natural aura. “You play wonderful! I´m quite enthralled! Do you play every night?” Steven leaned forward and gave a glinting smile, accidently showing sharp canines in the process. The pianist looked pleased at the praise and nodded his head as thanks, while never leaving his eyes from the golden orbs of the deity. “Mostly, we try and have live music every evening. But sometimes Jazzmyne just sings alone, or I try my hand at solo-playing. Sometimes we also have guest players” almost breathless after saying so much, the pianist gulped half his drink of scotch down, suddenly unnerved by the molten gaze.

Steven kept his gaze springing between the two, who, well aware of the attention, while they tried getting busy with bartender obligation. Their effort at keeping busy had it´s origin in an uncertain feeling they got when meeting the gaze of the deity. A warm sensation usually found when feeling truly at home. Steven tried to not let his disappointment show. “Hey ho Adam-bro, can ya get me something?” A tall lanky figure leaned on the bar next to Steven, in his arms a much smaller more solid built male. Adam sighed and put a glass down that he was cleaning. “Sure Shane, what do you want?” Shane smiled innocently while sitting down on a bar stool next to Steven. The other male, once in Shane arms, seemed annoyed but still sat on the other side of Shane and linked their hands. “Go and surprise me, bar-man!” Shane’s companion let out an annoyed huff and lightly kicked the others shin. “You always say that and then you complain about the flavor and I have to drink it!” “You love trying new things, Ryan! And Adam has no idea of good taste!” Andrew glowered at Shane and forcefully set down a glass that was filled with a clear fluid. Shane grinned and raised his glass in salute. He took a sip and immediately spit it out. He would have looked furious, if Ryan hadn´t ascended into giggles and wheezes, inspiring the same reaction in him. “Did you just give me fucking lighter fluid?!?” Andrew shrugged nonchalant and possessively put his arm around Adams waist; “You shouldn´t insult Adam.” Though blushing Adam pinched Andrew and escaped his grip to clean up the mess. Steven observed this all with an unreadable expression. He fiddled with the orange wedge of his almost empty drink and looked forlorn into its depts. His melancholy was interrupted as a refill was presented to him by Adam. “Don´t worry, no lighter fluid in this one… It´s on the house” If Steven didn´t know better, he would have thought the bartender winked. Adam was rewarded with his trouble by an honest twinkling smile that made Andrew also stop in his tracks and just watch. For a moment Steven was glowing from within as he gave some heartfelt thanks. Now Shane and Ryan and even some nearer stand-byes just watched in slight amazement.

The night slowly ended and as the bar emptied more and more until even the tipsy bickering of Shane and Ryan got quieter as they walked down the street homebound. Soon it was only the employees left. Andrew and Adam talked quietly among themselves as they cleaned up the bar and surrounding areas. Their conversation seemed to only turn around one particular deity though. “I think Steven might be a star-deity” Andrew stopped mopping the floor to muse on Adams words. “He did shine like one earlier…” Adam nodded fondly at the memory. “We´re lucky to have seen that” “We´re lucky the mortals stayed oblivious” “Don´t pretend that you didn´t think that that might have been one of the prettiest things you have ever seen.” Andrew leaned on his mop while grinning flirtatiously: “How can that be, when I get to see your eyes every day?” Adam threw a towel after him while his ears burned: “Go mop the floor, lover-boy!” Despite golden light slowly filling up the air in the bar, these two were not particularly tired anymore.

#stadamdrew #steven x andrew x adam #worth it fic #i hope you like it #i´m new #the god fic noone asked for #like get a grip #tell me if you guys like it?#maybe?#is this how tagging works #gods au #firstfic #be gentle #no beta

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