#but either way. i have creature thoughts always and it needs to go somewhere

[an-inspired-eternity]

i think you guys should ask me about my hybrid au actually. listen to me talk about creatures boy.

[angelpuns]

“ GET BACK!” Leo gripped his katanas tightly, backing into the corner. The lumbering, spiky creature before him grimaced, holding his claws out like Leo was some sort of spoiler animal. 

“ Leo, hey, what's goin' on, buddy?” The creature asked, voice softer than expected. It made Leo hesitant, if only for a second. 

But it must have been a ploy. A trick to trap him and-and do god knows what! 

“ I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY,” Leo hissed, keeping his eyes open for any movement from the hulking creature. If there was an opening, he'd have to take it, otherwise he'd have to portal away. It didn't feel right to leave this creature in his room, though, so that would be a last resort, “TELL ME WHO- WHAT YOU ARE! NOW!” 

The creature blinked in mock surprise and took a step back. Good. Maybe Leo could stun it and then go out the back way to his room. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all he had right now. Hell, maybe he could scare the thing all the way out the door and fight it in the lobby. Sure, it was a lot bigger than him, but he had two swords and it has nothing. 

“Wh- it's me! It's Raph!” The creature raised its voice a little, then immediately softened it again, “it’s- you're safe, Leo, its just me. You're in the lair. We're all safe…”

It was holding its hands out again and took two steps forward. Leo backed further into the corner and cursed under his breath. This was the opposite of what he wanted. 

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!? WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM!?” He bit out, cycling through several more half-baked plans where he didn't have to portal and didn't mess up his room. He didn't want to leave this guy here to mess it up either if he could. 

“ We're- we're brothers, remember? We explained it yesterday…. You were cursed by a witch and-”

Leo scoffed, “ that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You've got 3 seconds to leave before I cut you to pieces!”

He’d always been more of a playful banter guy than a ‘threaten to literally kill you’ guy, but this was dire. There was literally a random, dangerous looking creature-guy in his home. He wasn't gonna rake any chances to be funny, not right now. 

“Okay, okay. Let's just calm down, Leo….I really need you to take a deep breath and-and uh…name five things you see?” the guy - Raph, he'd said - was speaking even quieter, and getting even closer. 

He took another step forward and Leo couldn't think- there was nowhere to run, he was trapped. 

The creature reached forward slowly, mimicking slow breathing and Leo lashed out with his sword, barely nicking the guy’s arm with it. He either had tough scales or Leo was still too far to do any damage. 

He hissed in pain, and Leo saw a bit of red there, but he couldn't wait to find out if he'd finally pissed this guy off. 

He cut a portal beneath him and fell into it, heartbeat pounding his ears and electricity thrumming through his body. He heard a cut off “ LEO, WAIT-” before the portal closed and all he heard was the sounds if the city below him. 

 When he landed he was on a rooftop, somewhere far from his room and far from the creature. The sun was peeking above the horizon, a sudden chill making him shiver. Of course he couldn't have thought to put on a hoodie. Then again, he had been unexpectedly ambushed. 

At least he'd gotten away without a scrape. 

And not a moment too soon, because for a split second he'd seen two more guys in his doorway, each with shocked and then angry expressions. If he'd stayed even a second he'd be a goner, he just knew it. 

For now, he was safe. Now to think of a plan. 

----

Here's a blurb of that idea! I've written a chapter outline but writing has been hard lately, so I'm just gonna keep it in my docs for now. It might become a fic and it might become a comic, who knows. For now thus is what I've got. I just really wanted to write this bit :)

Part 1 | Part 3

[ellswritings]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Derek Hale x Reader

TW: Mentions of blood and death, werewolfy things, Stiles being an absolute spaz, age gap, Jennifer Blake (cause she’s a warning on her own), major feels, and a tiny bit of angst, some bad words. I think that it y’all. Once again, let me know if I missed something!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

There have always been two constants in Y/N L/N life when it came to living in Beacon Hills, life threatening creatures and the possibility of her imminent death. When she became friends with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall in Kindergarten, she wasn’t completely aware of what she signed up for. Most people would think the constant Star Wars marathons with Stiles and lacrosse training with Scott would’ve drove her away early on, but she stayed. Not that they’d let her leave even if she tried. Having them as her best friends has always been a blessing and a curse. She would do anything for them, but she didn’t know anything included becoming a supernatural creature.

A werewolf to be precise.

The night of the dance their sophomore year, Y/N had seen Lydia walk out of the dance in which she assumed was in search of Jackson. But when she saw the blonde boy lingering in the hallways, she had a feeling something was off. When she went in search of the girl and found her at the lacrosse field, there was no escaping their inevitable fate. That was one of the many times Y/N thought she’d meet her end. Watching Peter Hale run towards them at fully speed before taking a nice bite out of their skin was not on her bucket list for the evening.

Since then there have been plenty adventures for the “McCall Pack” as she’d like to call it. Allison’s grandfather Gerard coming to town, the Kanima, Derek and his pack trying to kill Lydia, then finding out it was Jackson, only to have him turn into a werewolf and run off to London. There might have been a couple kidnappings and restraining order somewhere in there, but those are minor details.

And, of course, with a new year comes new threats. There has been a recent string of kidnappings that turned into murders that none of them have been able to solve yet. They’ve tried as a group to brainstorm, meeting at Derek’s new loft every so often to get the entire groups opinion, but nothing has come out of it. Well, besides spending extra time with the Alpha. That’s an aspect Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

She had no issues making herself at home in his loft, despite his halfhearted protests. No one could understand how Y/N had the ability to just throw her feet up on his coffee table and not get her throat ripped out. It’s either she has no regard for her life, or Derek has a soft spot for her which is something no one saw coming.

The two have always had an interesting relationship. Y/N enjoys arguing, similar to Stiles hence why they get along so well. She loves getting under Derek’s skin and pushing every button she knows he has. It’s almost as if she goes out of her way to try and get a reaction out of him. No one blames her really, it gets entertaining hearing them go at it. Especially for Stiles.

Whenever anyone needs to ask Derek for a favor, the first person they send his way is Y/N. For one, they’ve only ever heard the word “yes” come out of his mouth when talking to her, and she’s the most likely one not to flinch if she has to kill him. She has a conscious, it’s just not always active.

Y/N rides up to Beacon Hills High on her motorcycle before parking in the thin spot near the bike rack. She carefully takes off her helmet, smoothing down any stray pieces of hair that might’ve fallen out of place. She had been told to go to Derek’s the night before to ask him if he’s found anything out about their new lethal friend, the only issue is when she got there, she could hear her new teacher Jennifer Blake in the apartment with him. She felt the urge to completely kick the door down and interrupt whatever conversation was happening, but she practiced a high level of self-restraint. She knew Derek was aware of her being there. He could smell her the same way she could him. But the hot white rage that filled Y/N’s chest forced her to walk away and ride angrily back to Stiles’s place.

Scott and Stiles watch their friend from the steps at the entrance to the school. Her ever present frown is a little troubling as it is much more prominent than usual. They didn’t get the full details about what angered her so much the night before, but it’s clearly still bothering her. She takes the keys out of her bike before stomping up to them. When she notices them staring at her, she lifts an eyebrow, “Something you wanna say?” She challenges. Both boys look at each other and simultaneously shoot her a fake smile.

“You– you look nice today,” Stiles comments awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Did you uh– did you do something new with your hair?”

Y/N stared at him blankly while Scott mentally facepalms at his friends attempt at covering up their concern. She simply shakes her head, looping her arms through both of theirs. “I’m fine if that’s what you guys are wondering. Derek was busy last night so I just came back to the house. That’s it,” she explains shortly, leaving no room for questions.

Scott scrunches his nose and a look of realization dawns on his face. It quickly morphs into disgust the more he thinks about it and Stiles furrows his eyebrows curiously. He looks over Y/N’s head and waits for his other best friend to clue him in on what’s got him all bothered. Scott makes sure Y/N’s more focused on weaving through the crowd before mouthing “She’s jealous” over to Stiles.

“I’m gonna grab my notebook real quick,” she tells them. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she reaches her locker, Stiles leans over to attempt a discreet conversation with Scott. “What do you mean she’s jealous?” He asks in a whisper. “Jealous of what?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answers, watching Y/N carefully. “But I’m assuming it had something to do with what happened at Derek’s last night.”

“Why would she be jealous over something with Derek?” Stiles scoffs, his eyebrows furrowed.

Scott shoots him a pointed look. Stiles is an absolute genius when it comes to certain topics, but girls and social cues are not one of them. His jaw drops slightly when he realizes what Scott’s implying. He rapidly shakes his head, flailing his arms in the air. “No– no, uh-uh. There’s no way. Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like you can stop it,” Scott chuckles. “If she likes him, she likes him.”

“Oh God,” Stiles groans disgustedly. “Out of all people? Sourwolf? Really?”

Scott shrugs with an amused smile as Y/N turns to start walking back, “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Okay, but does it have to want him?” Stiles continues to complain. “And if she’s jealous that means there was someone else there last night. Who? Because last I checked, Derek is a very acquired taste.”

“How would I know?” Scott replies. “Now shut up before she realizes we’re talking about her.”

The three of them made a pact awhile back that they wouldn’t eavesdrop on each other’s private conversations unless they were in danger. So they knew it would be safe to have said discussion despite Y/N’s enhanced hearing.

“You guys ready?” She asks.

Both nod vigorously, trying to hide their gossip, but their desperation to seem normal gives them away. Y/N simply rolls her eyes and says nothing. She once again links their arms together as they head towards their English class. No one needs werewolf senses to see how tense and angry Y/N got at the sight of Ms. Blake. The fury behind her eyes is one everyone in the pack has had to face at one point or another. Scott vividly remembers those eyes when Issac stole the last piece of her banana bread from when they went to the bakery they all love, and she threw him clear across his house.

Y/N separates herself from the boys, taking her spot next to Alison and Lydia while the boys sit down behind them. It’s a miracle how they all ended up in the same class. Y/N opens up her notebook, choosing to doodle rather than pay attention to whatever Ms. Blake is writing on the whit board in front of them. Alison looks at Y/N’s drawing with curiosity and smiles, “That’s really good,” she compliments.

It’s her beginning sketch to one of her favorite book characters, Sirius Black from Harry Potter. Y/N tries to muster a genuine grin, “Thanks,” she replies.

Alison isn’t clueless though. She can feel the difference in Y/N’s attitude from how she acts on a regular basis. She squints her eyes trying to silently figure it out before turning back to Scott who already knows what she’s wondering. What all of them were wondering. Who got Y/N so riled up? They know she’s jealous of something that happened with Derek, but who could she be jealous of?

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Jennifer greets with a smile that makes Y/N’s blood boil. She brings a hand up to play with her helix piercing to prevent her claws which will no doubt make an appearance by the end of this class. “Today, we're going to delve deeper into Shakespeare's Othello. I want you to focus on the themes of jealousy and manipulation that are littered throughout the text.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow on her teacher. The word “jealousy” feeling like a direct hit on their current situation. She cracks her neck before flipping to the page in their text book. She slouches in her chair, leg bouncing up and down. She quickly begins to run out of patience hearing the teachers heels click every time she takes a step.

“Y/N,” Jennifer calls out. “Why don’t you go ahead and start us off by reading the first paragraph?”

The grip Y/N has on her pencil tightens. There it is. Scott can not only smell it, but he can see it with his own eyes. The tension is more than palpable. Jennifer was the one at Derek’s last night. Y/N tilts her head, “Why can’t someone else do it?” She deflects coldly. “Lydia for example is quite the fan of our troubled poet.”

The challenge in her voice makes Jennifer hold back her own glare. She should’ve known Y/N would be the student to give her trouble from the beginning. The class shifts uncomfortably from the sudden chill in the air. “Y/N, it’s important for everyone to participate. Please, read the passage,” she requests with forced patience.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” the (h/c) haired girl answers, folding her hands together as she leans on the desk. “I have crippling anxiety when it comes to reading in front of people. You wouldn’t want to do something to cause a breakdown would you?” She asks in the most taunting voice possible.

Lydia and Alison both stare at their friend with confusion. Stiles has to sink low in his chair to hide the inevitable laughter that’s about to come out of his mouth. While Scott just covers his face with his hands, waiting for World War Y/N to take place in his English class.

Jennifer quirks an eyebrow, “Did you not just do the school play of Beauty and the Beast last month? Where you played Belle? The lead role?”

Silence.

“That’s different, Ms. Blake,” Y/N corrects. “Not that I’d expect you to understand, but playing a character and who I am in real life is completely separate.”

“Well, that’s perfect then,” she nods. “Why don’t you go ahead and read it in character for us?”

A strong scent of copper fills Scott’s nose. He glances down and sees Y/N’s claws dug deep into her thigh. Stiles notices Scott’s wide eyes and glances where he’s looking. When he sees the wide open wound his face turns pale white before he shuffles in his chair.

“What a fantastic idea,” Y/N quips sarcastically before glancing down at the page below her. As she begins to read, the passive aggressiveness in her tone is evident. “O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Her eyes lock with Jennifer's, and she can't help but add, under her breath but loud enough for her friends to pick up on, "How fitting"

Jennifer's expression hardens, but she maintains her composure. She leans on her desk while looking Y/N in the eye, “I would like a word with you after class Miss L/N,” she says coolly before continuing on with her lesson.

The glare on Y/N’s face never fades. She burns holes into the back of Jennifer’s head. Scott grew increasingly more worried that her eyes would flash, giving away her secret for all to see. All four of her friends exchange worried glances. Y/N’s never really been one to get in trouble on her own accord. She’s gotten detention, but ninety percent of the times it’s because Scott and Stiles roped her into it. The boys take it upon themselves to text Lydia and Alison, informing them of their theory of what is causing Y/N’s sudden aggression.

Lydia purses her lips together as she reads the texts. She leans back to whisper to Stiles, “This should be interesting…”

The rest of the class drags on, time ticking fairly slow. Y/N doesn’t say much, but the nasty looks she shoots cut more deeply than any words ever could. Halfway through the period, Stiles places his hand on her back to help keep her calm, which she wouldn’t admit, helped a lot. When the bell finally rings, the students begin to file out. Y/N stays behind, her anger barely contained. Scott, Stiles, Alison, and Lydia linger outside the door, trying to listen in on the upcoming confrontation.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder. She approaches Jennifer’s desk with a sickly sweet smile. The teacher doesn’t buy it though. “Y/N, what is going on with you today?” She questions firmly, feigning concern for the younger girl.

Y/N shakes her head, producing the most innocent face she could. “Going on with me? Nothing at all, Miss Blake. I am doing just dandy. Why do you ask?"

Jennifer bites the inside of her cheek, narrowing her eyes, but she manages to keep her tone measured. "Your behavior today has been disruptive and disrespectful. You are a talented and well-read young woman. I expected more from you."

Y/N chuckles, leaning more of her weight on her left side, popping her hip to show just how much she truly cares about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do, given your high standards and all. It must be exhausting to keep up appearances,” she comments with a deceptive charm.

The older woman’s nostrils flare, knowing exactly what she’s trying to get at. Of course this is what her behavior is all about. Jennifer takes a deep breath, “Y/N, your comments today were out of line. This isn’t about keeping up appearances, it’s about maintaining respect in the classroom."

Y/N walks closer to her desk with a sly smile. She traces her finger up the wood, rubbing the dust in between her fingers. “Respect? Funny you should mention that. It seems respect is a bit... selective around here."

Jennifer's patience finally snaps, though she tries to mask it with a strained smile. “Y/N, your insinuations are inappropriate. Whatever issues you think exist, this isn't the place to air them."

Y/N barely even makes eye contact with the woman, flicking off the small dust bunny she formed with her fingers. “Of course,” she agrees mildly. “From now on, I’ll make sure to be more… discreet.”

Her teacher’s eyes flash with irritation, “You know what? Your behavior today has been unacceptable. Detention. After school. I expect to see you here as soon as the bell rings.”

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look in Jennifer's eyes stops her. She storms out of the classroom, her friends quickly falling into step beside her. Stiles trips over his own footing as he tries to grab Y/N’s wrist, “Would you just– Jesus– Y/N. Slow down!” He exclaims, finally catching her. He grabs onto her, holding the girl in place.

Y/N raises her eyebrows, “What?” She bites out. “I have to get to Calc.”

“Care to explain what the hell is going on with you?” Lydia tries to coax the information out of her. She knows it’s never good for Y/N out of all people to keep things bottled.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” she denies. “I’m fine. Are we done here?” She scoffs, spinning on her heel to walk away.

Scott runs in front of her, “Y/N, we just want to help,” he insists softly.

“I don’t need your help!” She snaps. The wounded expression on his puppy dog face makes Y/N groan at her actions. She runs a hand over her face, “Look Scotty, I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you, really, I do. It means a lot that you care so much, but this isn’t something that I feel like talking about right now. I need space and time to plot out her murder and then maybe we can have a discussion later, okay?” She says nonchalantly, kissing Scott’s cheek before walking off to her calculus class.

They all stand there stunned for a moment. Stiles watches after her, pointing at the girl and turning back to his friends, “Did she– did she just say plot her murder?”

“Yup,” Alison nods, popping the “p.”

As the school day goes on, Scott and Stiles continuously try to monitor Y/N and her behavior. Something about her unhinged jealousy is putting everyone on edge. Luckily, the advanced classes they don’t have with her, Lydia does. So whenever they can’t be together, they assign someone else to watch over her.

When Lydia reports back, they’re all slightly shocked to hear that she was absolutely fine in all of her other classes. Which only affirms their theory that Ms. Blake was in Derek’s apartment last night, and that’s why Y/N acted the way that she did.

When the final bell of the day rings, Y/N growls under her breath, knowing she has to spend the next hour or so with Jennifer Blake in an enclosed space. She marches down the hallway, mumbling profanities under her breath before pushing the door to her classroom open. Stiles and Scott watch from afar, the latter trying to listen in for any painful screams. But knowing Y/N, if she truly were to murder someone, it wouldn’t be loud or obvious.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees Jennifer packing up her desk. When the woman hears her door open, she glances over in her students direction. “Miss L/N, I hope you had a good and reflective rest of your day,” she comments, clearly not interested in Y/N’s day whatsoever.

Y/N doesn’t bother responding. She simply stares at her straight faced with her arms crossed. Her patience is dwindling the longer they stand there. Jennifer picks up her handbag before sending Y/N the nastiest smile she could.

“Well, Mr. Harris should be here in a couple of minutes to oversee your detention, so you can wait in your seat until he arrives.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow, “And why exactly am I waiting for Mr. Harris? Weren’t you the one to give me a detention?”

Her teacher smirks, “Yes, yes I was,” she answers with a shrug.

“Then wouldn’t it be your responsibility to oversee it? You can’t just hand out detentions and not stick around for it,” Y/N scoffs.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be leaving like this. I would happily spend the next hour of my life lecturing you on proper classroom etiquette, but I have certain plans tonight that I’ve been looking forward to. So Mr. Harris has agreed to take you off my hands,” she explains.

Y/N can smell her smugness. Only if she demonstrated this side of herself in front of the class. Y/N clenches her hand tightly, feeling her claws emerging from her actual nails. Anger rushes through her, but she pushes it back with a curt nod. “How interesting. Do you mind me asking who these plans happen to be with?”

Jennifer cockily leans forward, whispering in Y/N’s ear, “You know exactly who they’re with.” Then she pulls away from the young girl, walking out of the classroom without a second glance.

The werewolf’s eyes flash a bright yellow as she watches Jennifer stalk off. She squeezes them shut, trying to avoid any kind of outburst. Her frustration grows by the second, her heart beating abnormally fast as she hears Jennifer getting in her car to no doubt drive to Derek’s loft. A red hot fire fills her soul as she makes a decision that will no doubt have consequences later. But she would rather serve a two hour detention with Harris than watch Derek be with that woman.

Y/N storms out of the classroom, running down the hallway. She ditches her detention, figuring she could come up with an emotional enough lie to relieve the punishment afterwards. Her backpack bounces up and down, smacking into her tailbone as she runs. Her feet pump as fast as they possibly can as she runs through the greenery of the woods. She doesn’t have to pay attention to where she is because her body already knows where it’s going. Almost as if she’s called to be there, her inner wolf begging to move faster.

When she finally slows down, she’s directly in front of the door to Derek’s loft. Her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths as she simply stares at the door. She didn’t see or hear Jennifer’s car, so that means their’s still time. She licks her lips out of nervousness before hesitantly bringing her hand up to the door, knocking on it softly.

She waits anxiously, wiping her now sweaty hands on her jeans. Y/N’s not used to feeling like this ever. She doesn’t get nervous. Most of the time, she’s the most confident person anyone could meet. Hence why she was friends with Lydia before she even knew Stiles existed. When she goes over to Derek’s, she never usually feels like this. Like her heart might just beat out of her chest if she doesn’t see him. She fights off the small whimper threatening to escape her throat. She doesn’t need to be nervous and embarrassed when he answers the door.

Y/N rocks back and forth on her feet, growing more weary as time passes. Silence fills the air around her and she suddenly feels the urge to throw up when she hears footsteps growing closer. She silently prays he can’t smell how absolutely out of sorts she is. Her inner monologue to give herself a confidence boost doesn’t do much when she sees his shadow at the bottom crack of the door. When the door swings open, it reveals a very dressed up Derek Hale. His face turns into one of confusion when he sees her standing in front of him.

“Y/N,” he greets, completely shocked by her presence. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh– I– um,” she stumbles over her words which causes Derek to look at her with curiosity. She’s not the type to be at a loss for something to say. That’s one of the things he admires about her. She sucks in a deep breath, “I just needed to see you,” she answers.

Derek steps aside slightly, allowing her into his apartment. When she walks in she can’t help but feel safe. This loft has almost turned into her home away from home. She’s here more often than anyone else out of the pack, and Issac lives here. It isn’t until now that Derek can smell the mix of emotions radiating off of her. It’s a concoction of things and he can’t tell which is the primary source of her unannounced appearance.

“What’s this about?” He asks her with a lifted brow.

Y/N sighs, trying to blink back the intermittent flashing of her eyes. “I know someone was here last night,” she reveals. “I came by and heard her. Then I find out today that you two apparently have plans,” she continues getting progressively more irritated. “Which didn’t make sense to me because I thought you were smarter than that.”

Derek crosses his arms, his own anger rising at her tone. He’s used to her empty sarcasm and insults, but this time it’s fueled by actual emotion which sets him equally on edge. “It’s none of your business who I have plans with, Y/N,” he says shortly.

Y/N laughs humorlessly, “None of my business? It is absolutely my business if the person you have these plans with is a complete stranger!” She exclaims loudly. “We don’t know her Derek. She could be the person behind all these killings and kidnappings and we wouldn’t be any the wiser!”

“Your teacher?” He challenges. “Responsible for everything that’s going on?” He chuckles at the obscurity. “Right. I’m sure that’s it,” he shakes his head at the accusation. “Isn’t the whole point of making plans to get to know someone? So wouldn’t it be nice if I did go out with her?”

“She’s manipulating you,” Y/N insists. “And you’re obviously too blind to even see it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Derek asks, his voice elevating as well.

“Because–” She waves her hands around exasperatedly, trying to find the words. “You’re not exactly known for your taste in women!” She all but scolds. “Remember Kate? The lady that up and killed your entire family. Well, I remember her so forgive me for trying to keep your stupid werewolf ass alive!”

Derek goes to retaliate but that’s when he hears it. Her heart rate speeds up. She’s lying to him. That’s not why she really cares. He can clearly see her anger and smell the annoyance radiating off of her, along with a couple of other things. But there’s a sweet smell accompanying it. One that Derek finds rather endearing. Jealousy. Y/N L/N is jealous. He wouldn’t have picked up on it if she hadn’t just blatantly lied. Suddenly her bursting in and berating him makes sense. He smirks when he notices her clenched fists. It’s about time she’s felt the green-eyed monster that constantly visits him when he sees her with other guys. When she’s laughing boisterously about something Scott said, whenever she comes over to see him but ends up talking to Isaac for hours on end. Especially when he found out she kissed Stiles last year after he was kidnapped by Gerard. It truly has been a miracle that no one ever sensed his jealousy when it came to her.

Derek takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Why did you really come here, Y/N?” He asks lowly, trying to get her to admit her feelings. “Tell me what you’re really trying to say…”

Y/N feels her face flush as he gets closer. She doesn’t want him to know the real reason why she raced across town to be here. The walls begin to close in around her, so she lashes out in a last ditch effort to protect herself.

“I’m trying to look out for you! You’re stubborn, Derek,” she chastises. “You don’t listen to anything anyone tells you. You like to pretend you’re always ready and prepared for anything, but you’re not! You are just as emotional and vulnerable as everyone else despite being hurt as many times as you have! You’re reckless when it comes to women, so I’m simply trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or the pack by making a stupid mistake.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down. In fact, he gets closer to her in attempts to pressure it out of her. “You’re avoiding my question, Y/N,” he says darkly. “What’s really going on?”

Feeling cornered, Y/N tries to take in a couple of deep breaths but it fails miserably. She can’t tell him. Not now. Not when he’s interested in another women who’s already on her way here. He even got dressed up for her. She’s never seen Derek in a white button up polo and slacks. It makes her frown thinking that it’s not for her. She scoffs softly before shaking her head, “Forget it,” she mumbles. The h/c haired girl pushes past him, shoulder checking him on her way to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here. Have fun on your date or whatever you wanna call it.”

She slams the door behind her before stomping down the flight of stairs that leads up to his building. When she walks outside, the sky opens up, almost mimicking her inner turmoil with its own storm. Rain pours down on her, soaking her clothing completely as she gets ready to run home, or in all truth, to Stiles house. All she knows is that she can’t be here anymore.

“Y/N, wait!” Derek calls out.

She doesn’t bother turning around, heading the exact way she came. She should’ve figured that he would’ve caught up to her with ease. He’s never had a problem showing her who’s in charge. He grabs her wrist gently but firmly, not allowing her to leave.

“Stop running away,” he commands. “Just tell me the truth.”

Y/N’s eyes once again begin flashing yellow, differing completely from her regular piercing e/c gaze. “Let go of me, Derek,” she demands with a bit of a growl in her voice.

“Not until you stop being so damn hardheaded!” He yells, trying to make his voice heard over the pounding rain. “Tell me!”

“Why do you even care?!” Y/N screams back. “Why does it matter when you’re already here waiting for another woman?”

Derek’s eyes soften slightly, and he pulls Y/N closer to him by her wrist. Her breath hitches in her throat as her hand practically rests on his muscular chest. His lips are so impossibly close that any coherent thought she had before this moment have been completely erased from her long and short term memory.

“Because I need to hear you say it,” his voice got impossibly low, sending a chill through her body that has nothing to do with the cold water hitting her back.

Y/N’s lips part slightly as his thumb comes up to brush the side of her cheek. Her body is drawn to him. The wolf inside of her is trying to claw its way out and into his arms, but she manages to steady herself. “Fine,” she breathes out, not being able to force herself to look away. “I’m jealous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That it made me want to commit first-degree murder last night when I heard her voice in your apartment, knowing that it would’ve been me in there if I had shown up just a tad bit earlier? So yes, Derek, I am jealous. You win.”

Derek’s eyes darken at the breathiness of her voice. He places the hand that was holding her wrist on her waist to keep her pressed securely against his front. Both of their hearts beat in unison, “Why didn’t you just say that when I asked the first time?”

Y/N’s defense starts to crumble beneath her, “Because I didn’t want you to think I was weak for succumbing to something stupid like that,” she admits.

Derek laughs, showing off his pearly white teeth, “I would’ve never thought you were weak.” He reassures when he notices the small frown etched on her face. “You’ve never been weak. A bit obstinate? Sure. But not weak.”

Y/N can feel the sincerity in his voice. She doesn’t protest his strong hold on her hip, but instead keeps her own hands occupied on his now soaked through white shirt. It’s not a bad view from where she’s standing. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow, a pang of concern filling his heart. “Do what?”

“Keep pretending that I don’t care about you,” she says softly, her chest heaving up and down from how intense the moment they are sharing is.

Derek’s eyes flash their bright alpha red as a primal instinct clouds his brain. He leans close to her face, his stubble rubbing her cheek in just the right way. “Then don’t,” he says huskily.

Before she can respond, he leans in and kisses her, the rain pouring down around them. The kiss is intense, filled with all the emotions they’ve both been keeping at bay. It’s a collision of desire and frustration, their lips moving against each other with a desperate want. A primal need inside both of them. Y/N wraps her hands around his neck, tugging at the short strands of his black hair. Derek wastes no time placing both of his hands on her waist, squeezing the soft flesh. She giggles slightly from the sensation, making him smile. When they finally pull apart, they’re both breathless.

Y/N steps back, her heart racing, but Derek keeps his arm around her, protectively. “How come you ran away?” He asks quietly.

Y/N huffs, running a hand through her wet hair. She sighs loudly before admitting the truth, “I was scared.”

“Of what?” He questions, not believing the woman in front of him would be scared of anything.

“Of this,” she states obviously, gesturing in between them. “Of how much I feel for you. I’m not really big on emotions like this. I don’t know how to handle it. So I was scared of having to open up my heart when I wasn’t sure if you’d actually take care of it.”

The vulnerability in her answer snaps something in Derek’s mind. She has the same issues as he does. He hasn’t been able to truly give himself to anyone since Paige. He felt so strongly for her and then she was gone in an instant. And when he tried again with someone he didn’t even fully trust, he got burned again. Emotions besides anger have never been his forte. So when he hears Y/N admitting the same thing, it makes him realize that this is something they both can improve on.

He grins, kissing her forehead softly, “You don’t have to be scared. We can figure it all out together, okay? Both of us.”

At that moment, a car pulls up, and Derek pulls Y/N even tighter into his chest. The bright headlights blind them and they both try to shield their eyes in order to identify the owner of the vehicle. Y/N’s body tenses as Jennifer steps out, the woman’s expression shifting from surprise to anger as she sees them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she comments coldly. Her eyes zero in on Y/N who has a rather tight grip on Derek’s shirt, “Miss L/N, shouldn’t you be at school serving the detention you earned today for your behavior in my class?”

“I had better things to do,” Y/N bites back. “As you can see,” she says, pointing at Derek’s chiseled form.

A shit-eating grin forms on Derek’s lips at her words. They both swear they see Jennifer’s eye twitch from the insinuation Y/N just made. He doesn’t bother trying to cover up what just happened and keeps his hands firmly on Y/N’s hips.

“Yes, I can see that,” Jennifer narrows her eyes at their proximity.

Derek can feel the situation getting ready to escalate so he keeps Y/N safeguarded within his hold. He nods over to Jennifer’s car, “I think it would be best if you left,” he states unforgivingly making Y/N smile.

Jennifer sends them both a pointed look, “I think so too,” she agrees before spinning on her heel and walking back towards her car. “We’ll see just how well this works out for the two of you. Let’s hope you don’t regret it.”

She closes the drivers side door before speeding off out of the parking lot. Both Derek and Y/N are left standing in the rain, now knowing that things have just become a lot more complicated than they were before. But even in the midst of her subtle threat and imminent danger, the two of them don’t seem worried in the slightest.

Because they’ll handle that together too.

[leighsartworks216]

In Your Silence (I Hear You)

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Requested by @ghulehh666:

"Just had this idea for so long in my head, basically astarion x tav(gn). Tav is really antisocial, never visits tavern or such, and prefers to stay somewhere quiet and alone or with Astarion. When they have to talk, their ability to speak sometimes randomly locks out and doesn’t know what to say."

I know you said antisocial but I kinda went further and made it more social anxiety or autism-coded

Also I still have not played the game or seen much gameplay so some things may be inaccurate and stuff

Warnings: going through a busy crowd, brief mention of nails digging into skin, some sensory issues (touch, sound)

Word Count: 1,287

Masterlist

AO3

You were holding on for dear life. Your arms curled tightly around Astarion’s, eyes scanning every which-a-way. Unfortunately, this was a rather common occurrence.

Before all this, you kept to yourself. Perhaps to an extreme. You avoided going outside, you didn’t speak to anyone for as long as you could help it, and you were quite happy like this. Dealing with other people was always a headache, and never near worth it, but staying alone? The only person you could be irritated with was yourself.

And then you got kidnapped. And somehow, somehow everyone chose you as the one to save the world. You couldn’t stay alone anymore. Too much was at stake. But sometimes it was all too much. Too loud, too demanding, too… everything.

Astarion didn’t know what to make of you upon first meeting. He’d assumed you were working with the damn Illithid, but when he insisted you just kept shaking your head. Truly, he’d have thought you were mute, if he’d not seen you talking with the damned creatures. Now that it’s been weeks, he knew you better than the rest. After all, it was his tent you ran to when you needed quiet, and, even more than that, it was him you trusted to find your voice when you couldn’t.

That’s how you ended up in this bustling market street, clinging to him as he smoothly guided you through swaths of people. He was used to navigating crowds. His eyes sought out slightly-more-open gaps and he’d be able to slip through with no issues. Alone, that is. With you, the strategy was a little different. Not only did he have to get himself through, but you as well. He could only imagine what the weaving pattern he took to find even-more-open gaps in the sea of people looked like from above.

The street never seemed to end. More and more people entered from either end. Stall owners barked out calls to potential customers. Everyone was shoving to get where they needed to go. Astarion was tired of it. The only reason you’d turned down here was to find one specific stall for some spices Gale wanted. He’d stopped looking for the stall long ago, leaving that task to you.

Toward the end of the street, though still quite far from any freedom, you squeezed his arm and planted your feet. He stopped immediately. Your eyes were set on one of the stalls - a table filled with handfuls of herbs, small bundles of them tied together with string. He sighed through his nose. Gale better damn well be happy for all the trouble this is.

Astarion placed a hand over yours on his arm, searching for any opening in the river of people going around you both. He could feel the anxiety radiating from you the longer it took. As soon as there was even a hint of a gap, he pulled you through.

Trying to walk through the hoard rather than with it was a nightmare. You were jostled and bumped into by everyone. Astarion wanted to switch you to his other side to act as a human shield, but doing so risked losing you to the flood. And when you finally got through, finally standing in front of the one stall you came here for, you felt it. Like a switch, your throat felt leaden. Your vocal chords were heavy. It seems preserving your voice for this moment did not help at all.

“Hi! Welcome, welcome! What can I get for you today?” the stall-keeper beckoned. Astarion had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling. All traders were always too cheery, overacting as they tried to play nice to convince you to buy more.

The vampire turned his focus to you. You still held onto his arm, but it was a little more relaxed. Your nails weren’t digging into his arm, at least. (You always apologized profusely when your voice came back, even when he brushed off your concerns of hurting him or, worse, being a nuisance.) You searched the table, eyes roaming stacks of small spices and bundles of large herbs. Astarion had no idea exactly what Gale’d asked for. He trusted you remembered.

A moment passed, and then you were pointing at a small cloth bag, round and full. The attendant lit up. “That’s our special blend! It contains all you need for any meal! Just one pinch and your mouth will thank you for it!” When they said the price, Astarion saw you retreating in on yourself. It was a lot to ask for one small sachet, though it looked like it would last several weeks if conserved properly.

Before you could even formulate an apology to Gale for his damn herbs and spices being too gods damned expensive, Astarion was pulling out his coin purse and counting out the gold. “We’ll take one.”

The attendant picked up the sachet by its drawstrings and plopped it into your hesitant hand. You squeezed his arm - you didn’t like that he was paying for it. He handed over the money, and pulled you back into the throng of people.

It wasn’t long before you were at the end of the street and being tugged along to a quiet side-road as there was no longer a need to slow down to glance at each stall. As soon as the people thinned out to a manageable level, you let go of his arm and reached for your own coin purse.

“Please, love, you don’t need to pay me back.” He covered your hand holding the purse, preventing you from opening it. “Besides, I will be more than happy to discuss repayment with the Wizard.”

You gave him a disapproving look. He just rolled his eyes.

“Was acting quickly to get you out of that mess as soon as possible not what you wanted?”

You glared harder. “Don’t twist it,” you muttered. The weight was still there, but being out of the crowd had helped enough. Though, it seemed heavier now that you have spoken… Damn.

He chuckled airily. “Hate to admit I was working outside of my own self-interests for once?” You raised a brow at him. “Well, aside from having Gale in my pocket, until he compensates me for the loss.”

You huffed and put your coin purse away, tucking the sachet away in the process. Your hand found his arm immediately after. He didn’t even react as you gripped onto the fabric of his sleeve. At first, he’d been a bit scandalized, complaining that you’d wrinkle it or pull at the embroidery. He almost… enjoyed it. The simple act of keeping each other close, relying on him to act as an anchor. It felt nice to be needed.

He noticed before you that your feet were beginning to drag. The sole of your boots scraped on the street every couple steps, not to mention how you slowed down ever so slightly. He smiled knowingly, resting his hand over yours on his arm once more. It was reminiscent of nobles strolling along, prim and proper.

“Come on, dear,” he encouraged smoothly. “Once we return I can read that mystery novel to you.”

You grabbed onto his arm with your other hand, pulling yourself closer to rest your head against him. You had a tired little smile on your face. How unfortunate such outings were so much on their leader. He’d probably get two lines in before you passed out in his mess of pillows.

“Though, it is rather obvious who the culprit is.”

You pinched his arm.

“No, my being a magistrate has nothing to do with it,” he chastised. “It’s hardly my fault I’m more observant than you, dear.”

[vioartemis]

Friends?

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: One day, in the library, you catch Wednesday's attention... Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 Warnings: none a/n: expect a part 2, not proof read, it was in my drafts for like 3months now so I can't guaranty it's not awful (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday pushed the library’s door and directly walked to the aisle she knew had the books she needed. After 10 minutes spent in said aisle, she let out a frustrated sigh; she couldn’t find the books, which meant someone either borrowed them already -which was unlikely, or the librarian forgot to put them back on the shelves.

Either way, it annoyed her.

Now she had to talk to the librarian to ask if the books were here, and it would probably take longer than necessary.

When she arrived at the desk with a blank expression, the woman was writing something on her computer, not sparing Wednesday a glance.

“I would like to borrow some books.” She said through gritted teeth, causing the librarian to look up

“What books?”

Wednesday put a piece of paper with the references of the books on the desk as an answer.

“Botanical curses & poisons, and The supernatural” the woman read out loud “You’re lucky, they’ve just got returned”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow. Even if she did think it could’ve happened, she was still surprised. She didn’t actually think anyone else would ever borrow these books. It wasn’t common seeing someone read that kind of books -or read at all. And usually Nevermore students only read the books in the school’s library.

She didn’t hear the door while she was in the aisle, which meant the person was still there. Maybe she had found a classmate with the same interests as her? Which didn’t mean she would try to befriend them, but it was always good to know.

“If you’re looking for the girl, she’s in the aisles over there” the librarian said, as she had already put the books on the desk

Wednesday looked at her, a frown on her face, but nodded once and grabbed the books.

She then walked to the aisles the woman talked about. And here you were, looking at the books on the shelves, reading the back of one while holding another in your arms; Royal art of poison. Wednesday had read that book before, she recognize it was a good one.

Her attention then shifted on your face, even if she could only see your profile. She was sure she never saw you at Nevermore. She usually had a good memory for that kind of things, so maybe you didn’t have classes in common.

After looking you up and down, she walked out of the building to go back to Nevermore.

On the way there, she couldn’t help but think if she had seen you in the hallways, she would’ve never thought you would read this type of books.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

The following week, Wednesday tried to find you in the school. Unconsciously at first, as she didn’t really care, but then it became more and more important to her as she couldn’t seem to see you. That frustrated her. You had to be somewhere.

And yet she couldn’t find you.

She always got what she wanted, it was unusual for her to ‘fail’. So naturally, she decided to go back to the library.

When she did, she wandered in the aisles, looking for you. Unsuccessfully. It was like you didn’t even exist.

She felt like she was losing her mind, and it wasn’t as fun as she anticipated.

Just as she was about to go back in the aisle she saw you in for the first time, she saw Thing out of the corner of her eye. He was pointing a nearby aisle, signaling you were in there.

You were indeed in the aisle, looking at the books on the shelf in front of you. Venomous was already in your hands. A book about earth’s deadliest creatures… Wednesday thought.

Then your hand rose up to pick up another book; The Black Dahlia.

Now Wednesday was really interested by you. She never met anyone who knew about her favorite unsolved murder case, let alone read about it.

She took some step closer to you and grabbed a book on the shelf.

“You might as well read this one, if you’re interested in the Black Dahlia case.” she said as she handed you the book

You gave her a surprised look, not expecting anyone to recommend you any books in that section, let alone about this case.

“Oh, thanks” you grabbed the book “Do you know much about this case?”

“Of course, for it is my favorite unsolved murder. How come you know about it?”

“I saw a documentary on tv yesterday. Just thought I’d read some more about it. It seems to be a very interesting case” you explained

“Indeed.” A little pause “So what are you? Werewolf? Siren? Psychic?”

You frowned, confused as to why she would ask that.

“Are you from Nevermore?” you asked

“Are you not?”

You shook your head.

“I’m at Jericho High, sadly”

“‘Sadly’?”

You nodded.

“There’s a bunch of idiots there. Like- a whole bunch. I don’t really fit in. They’re all about social medias, hating on outcasts for no reason”

Wednesday looked at you, waiting for you to continue and explain yourself.

“I prefer books, even if I have to admit that scrolling on Pinterest while listening to music can be addicting. As for outcasts… I’ve always been interested in them, especially vampires. But I mean- every ‘class’ of outcasts I read about was interesting”

The raven took a moment to think about what you just said.

“It’s unusual to see a normie who doesn’t hate outcasts. Are you sure you’re a normie?”

“Pretty sure, yeah”

She looked you up and down after that, analyzing you. You seemed to be honest, she didn’t sense any hostility coming from you.

The following days, Wednesday caught herself thinking about your conversation, and by extension, about you. As much as it pained her to admit, something in you attracted her. Or at least made her ant to know more about you, which led her to the library once again.

This time, you were sitting at a table, reading another book about poisonous plants, some other books stacked next to you.

“Are you planning to murder someone?” she asked as she sat on the chair facing you

“Holy shit…! Do you make a habit out of scaring people?” you asked, half joking, a hand on your chest after her voice made you jump

“It’s more of a hobby. Who is going to be your victim?”

“No one!” you chuckled, once your heartbeat calmed down a bit “I’m just trying to find information about Aconitum, like where it grows, etc”

“Why?”

“I want to experiment with it myself, simple curiosity” you shrug

So you did want to poison someone. Interesting. She thought.

“No, no, I can guess what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to kill anyone. But you never know when that kind of information can be useful”

“Indeed.” she nodded, even if she was a bit disappointed

“And if I did want to kill someone, I would probably use something else like Nightshade or the Nerium Oleander -but I’d have to find some first” you added “Anyways, I need to go, I have class… See you later, maybe?”

Wednesday looked at you as you packed your things and left the library, not without putting the books back on their shelves. You definitely had a little something that made her look forward to the next time she would be in your company. That thought surprised her; she usually wasn’t one to seek others’ company.

She stayed sat at the table for a few minutes, lost in thoughts, before standing up almost abruptly. She walked to the door and was about to leave, when the librarian called her.

“Hey, wait a sec!”

Wednesday turned to face the woman who got out from behind her desk. She handed something.

“What is that?”

“A micro-cassette recorder. It must have fallen from your friend’s bag when she left. I thought you could give it back to her”

“She’s not my friend.” Wednesday said blankly but took the object anyways

The librarian rolled her eyes at the smaller girl and went back to her desk while Wednesday left the library, putting your recorder in her backpack.

“What’s that?”

Wednesday looked up from her typewriter; Enid was holding the recorder.

“A micro-cassette recorder.” she simply said “Put it back where it was, Enid.”

“Oooh what are you doing with it? Recording podcasts? I thought your thing was novels” the blonde continued, not listening

“‘My thing’ is novels.”

“Then what’s on this recorder?”

Before the raven could say anything else, the werewolf pressed the play button.

“Okay… Is it recording? Ah, yes, the numbers are moving. Okay okay… um… Where do I even start? God I must look so dumb talking to that thing… Anyways. Uh… Day 1 of research on outcasts, I guess? Is that how they do in movies?”

The recorder stopped playing, for Wednesday had pressed the button again, taking it from Enid’s hands.

“Whose voice is that? It’s not yours”

“Of course not. It’s…” she paused, looking for the right words “… it belongs to someone I met at the library.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?? I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Why do you have her recorder then?”

“She forgot it. I just keep it until I can give it back.”

“Hmhm, sure”

Enid said with a big smile, before going back to her activities: laying on her bed and scroll on Instagram, probably. The other girl watched her do so, then went back to her writing, putting the recorder on her desk.

After half an hour of peaceful writing, she heard Enid tell her she was going in Yoko’s dorm for whatever gossip session they had every week. From the corner of her eye, Wednesday saw the recorder move closer to her.

Thing was pushing it in her direction.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you want to hear more?” Thing signed

“I wouldn’t like it if anyone read my novel without asking me first.”

“But you’re curious”

“… Of course.”

“Listen to it then! Maybe you’ll be able to help her. She seems nice, she won’t get upset” Thing signed quickly, almost as curious as Wednesday to hear your research

“Fine. Give it to me.”

Thing pushed the recorder further so she could grab it. She did, and pressed play again, but not after a glance at Thing.

“A word to Enid and I’ll snap all your fingers.”

“Hmhm… so I borrowed this book in Jericho’s library about outcasts -I’m surprised they have books about that considering the way they see them. I think it was a pretty interesting book!”

Wednesday listened to what you had to say on that book, then fast-forwarded to a bit later on the record.

“… lost count of the days at this point. It’s crazy how I can’t find anything more than what I already read! It’s like normies’ knowledge about outcast is only the basics -not to say the clichés. God, I wish I was at Nevermore. I’m sure they have sooo much more books there. Not only about outcasts, but about poisonous plants as well!”

The raven was about to stop listening when you started speaking again.

“Oh, yesterday, I met a girl at the library! She advised me to read a certain book about The Black Dahlia case. She said she was from Nevermore. Well, she didn’t deny it. I wonder what’s her gift… But it’s a weird question to ask, isn’t it? I bet she knows lots of outcasts if she studies there…  of course she does, what I am even saying?”

The record stopped by itself after that.

Wednesday had the tiniest smile on her face. You were smart, that she had noticed when you first talked, yet hearing you speak freely like that made you sound so clumsy. You were passionate, that was for sure.

“Thing, do you think you can find her quickly?”

A knock on your bedroom window caught your attention. Your stopped what you were doing and opened it. To your surprise, a hand -without a body- ran (?) in your room.

You looked at it, mouth agape, certainly not expecting that.

“Hi…?” you said hesitantly

The hand stopped on your desk and starting signing.

“I uh… don’t speak sign language… sorry”

The hand paused, as if it was sighing.

“You can… hear me?” you asked, surprised

It gave you a thumbs up as an answer, before showing its palm to you. A message was written on it with a marker: ‘You forgot your recorder at the library. Call me.’ Followed by a phone number.

 “Thank you”

You said while typing the number on your phone, before calling it.

On the other side, Wednesday was waiting in front of Enid’s computer. She remembered how to use it from last time Enid told her. When she saw you were calling, she pressed the spacebar to pick up.

She certainly didn’t expect to see you with Thing on your shoulder.

“Hi!” you said with a smile “So you found my recorder? I was afraid someone random found it…” you paused “Your room is… more colorful that I would’ve imagined”

“It’s my roommate’s side.” Wednesday frowned, a bit offended you could think she would decorate her room this way

“Oh. What does your side looks like then?”

She turned Enid’s computer to show you -quite proudly.

“Ohh it’s nice! Wait- you have a typewriter?? That’s so cool! Like the overall decoration”

Thing typed lightly on your shoulder.

“Oh, yes, sorry. He’d like me to drive him back to Nevermore. Which I can understand, it’s a bit far away… So, we were wondering if you could open a window or something? I don’t think your principal would appreciate if someone from outside came without permission”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. Let’s say it’s for keeping my recorder safe, that way we’re even” you smiled

Wednesday nodded, and said she would open their window, just before your parents called you from downstairs, asking who you were talking to. While you were answering them, Thing gave the raven a thumbs up.

Of course it was your plan all along, bringing her here… she thought, a slight smile forming on her lips again. Well played.

After going out by your bedroom window, took your bike, put Thing in the little basket attached to the handlebar, and started making your way to Nevermore. On the way there, you talked with Thing; he used your phone to type and made it read the text out loud so you could hear.

When you arrived at Nevermore’s gate, you left your bike against the low wall near the entrance. To your surprise, the gate wasn’t closed -which was a good thing. You got on the school’s territory, walking silently to the school itself.

You had only ever seen it in pictures, and you had to admit, it was way cooler to see it for real.

Thing tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality, and pointing at a big round window with a metallic spider web on it. It was probably the dorm you had to reach.

“You could’ve told me it was on the fourth floor…”

You examined the architecture of the school, before cracking your knuckles and starting to climb.

“If I fall… I hope I won’t break too many bones”

After what seemed like an eternity, and three times almost falling, you finally reached the balcony. You took a moment to lay there, catching your breath, Thing patting your arm reassuringly.

He then disappeared inside and came back with the raven right as you were standing back up.

“Thing said you were hurt.” Wednesday said, her eyes shifting from your face to your hands, bruised by the climbing

“Oh, it’s okay. I’ve done rock-climbing with my parents before, I’m used to it”

“… If you say so.” she paused, and handed you your recorder

“I almost forgot about it” you chuckled, taking it from her hands and putting it in a pocket of your vest “Thank you”

Wednesday nodded. You did the same, as a goodbye, and were ready to go back home, when she spoke again.

“If you want more books about outcasts or something else…” she stepped forward and gave you a piece of paper “… let me know.”

You took the paper and opened it. Another phone number. You had guessed the previous one wasn’t hers, and according to what Thing told you, she never used the phone some guy gifted her.

You smiled and put the paper in your pocket.

“Thank you”

You were about to leave, but you remembered something.

“You never told me your name”

“Neither did you.”

“I’m Y/n. Y/n L/n”

“Wednesday. Wednesday Addams.”

“It was nice seeing you, Wednesday” you smiled “It’s probably going to sound weird… But I enjoy your presence, I feel understood. I hope we’ll be good friends. Anyways, good night!”

With that, you climbed down the wall, disappearing from her field of view.

Wednesday looked at the sky; it was dark, lots of clouds, but the moon was still visible behind them. It even illuminated the raven’s face.

Thing tapped in her direction.

“I only tolerate her presence. Don’t imagine things.”

More tapping, and what looked like he was rolling his eyes.

“One more word and you’re locked in the drawer until I decide otherwise.”

Thing saw it as the sign to go back inside, not wanting to risk it.

When she was alone on the balcony, Wednesday’s eyes shifted to your small form while you were getting on your way home.

Her little smile was back, that smile which was so unusual to see on her face, that only the people she really cared about ever saw.

Friends, hm? I suppose that’s what we are.

[Next part]

[meanbossart]

Just thinking thoughts about Orin and Drow lore, and idk if this has been asked already, but

If Orin had just disappeared for like a year, not even Sceleritas could find her, with how obsessive pre-tadpole Drow was how would he handle that? Aside from being prideful and murdery, I don’t remember in the pre-tadpole Drow lore about any instance (after he made it to the temple) of him expressing anything else. Did the two ever have a wholesome moment?

Hmmmm not wholesome, no. I'm sorry to disappoint people who might wanted to see a more explicitly vulnerable side to both of them at that stage in their lives, but that's just not... How I envision things. I don't think anyone born into the temple would have had much room to express themselves in the way average people do.

What they did have was an undeniable connection and mutual understanding. This lasted for about 7 years, so between ages 18-25 for DU drow. (Canonically he's currently 28, give or take). I think that, sometimes, they also silently understood among themselves that things weren't always fair or good.

This might sound like a whole load of nothing to some people, but based on the culture within the cult, Orin's story, and the behavior of everyone involved in it, it seems huge to me that two people who were essentially groomed to be the embodiment of murder would harbor any kind of care for one another, even if it was subtle. The fact that they could share a bed, talk shit about Sarevok, and seamlessly work together and share in the glory of their deeds as equals is what intimacy looked like for them - before DU drow's ego (and the very need of a more explicitly intimate connection with someone, to be fair) got to his head.

They killed together, they rolled around in blood together, they bickered and fought and one time Orin stabbed him in the gut and DU drow punched her jaw out of it's socket. Then they flopped down on the ground and cackled about it while Sceleritas rushed in to stop the bleeding. Is that wholesome? I think for deified bhaalspawn who know nothing but that life it's the closest it gets.

There had to have been quiet moments I'm sure. Like Orin waiting around while DU drow got ready to go somewhere, him adjusting her headpiece, Orin slicing her brother's long hair off when he first arrived and looked like some sort of sinewy wood's creature. At night, they probably laid in bed in silence and sometimes stared at each other until either fell asleep.

I am very interested in not inventing an obscured, soft side to Orin that we didn't get to see, you know? While she wasn't always the level of manic we see in-game, she was completely unfit to function normally due to her upbringing, and this reflects in her relationships. DU drow is also undeniably emotionally stunted, just in a slightly different way.

I got off rambling to no one's surprise LOL but to answer the first part of your question - I don't think he would have been quite as dramatic about Orin just up and vanishing, as there's no explicit suggestion of death in that. He would have been insufferable to be around for a while, but in that scenario I could see his duties keeping him busy.

Not to mention that, while through death, she would be leaving him unwillingly - disappearing with no trace implies the uncomfortable possibility that she truly, honestly, just didn't want to be around him. That allows room for contempt and bitterness to fester until you wrongly convince yourself there was never any love there at all, even if just to soothe your own conscience.

He would have just become a much, much worse person that way in the sense that he would have nothing to focus on besides for his lord's will - as horrific as his attitude towards Orin was, it is very much a human feature to desperately cling to connection. With Orin around, he had a little bit of fucked up tenderness and love in him - it was a personal desire completely separate from his "job", a vestige of free-will. Without her, he just has Bhaal and whatever Bhaal wants.

Orin has always unwittingly anchored him, and then, later freed him. And he never ever deserved any of it.

🤷

[satureja13]

New Chapter!

Home cr happy home! As soon as they jumped out of the TukTuk, the Boys ran down to their Underground Police Station to look after Tiny Can. How had he been able to repair himself after being blown up? And where did he get all that money from to pay for their school fees? ö.Ö'

But Tiny Can wasn't at the place they left him. This little brat! Of course he was hiding somewhere, fearing Saiwa's wrath. Saiwa: "Spread out and find him! Dead or alive - I don't care. As long as his memory is still intact so we can track where that money came from and give it back. Gods, we are going to jail if this comes out!" Jack tried to defend his (t)rusty friend: "Sai, we don't know what happened to him. I'm sure it isn't as bad as it seems and ..." But Sai didn't listen and kept spitting: "Damn - I knew he was trouble!We should have left him at the temple to rot for the next thousand years! It's all your fault, Jack! You took him with us!" It hurt Kioyshi that his mate got scolded, but he knew that it was useless argueing with Sai when he was in his rage state. And so he hushed the others up and out to search for the lawless tin can... Kiyoshi sighed, he knows that Jack doesn't care much to be Sai's punching bag. More than that, it's a labor of love for his oldest friend.

Jeb and Ji Ho started to search their home lot. Since Tiny Can can even fly short distances, he could be anywhere! Jeb winced internally. Again, Sai is so, so furious. Jeb really needs to find ways how to deal with Sai when he's like that. Or better, ways to take this self-destructive anger off of Sai. And the blame he mortifies himself with. They are all to blame. Not only Sai. This has to stop.

Even though Ji Ho was travelsick and drained again from teleporting, he kept on searching. He even tried to suppress his feelings to not upset Vlad and keep him from their task. Vlad would come back to him immediately if he knew how exhausted he really is and how much he craves Vlad's healing and comforting touch. But this has to wait. Finding Tiny Can is more important than their 'indispositions'... Who knows what has happened to him? Ji Ho doesn't believe Tiny Can broke the law. Tiny Can helped him get his feelings back so Vlad and him can finally be together. Only - Tiny Can also put the influence his grandfather had over him with that spell into the Therapy Game. Ji Ho thought it was to make him so angry to finally open the Pandora's Box with his hidden feelings - to protect his friends. But what if the Council was behind all that? And they called Tiny Can back to extract the evidence he gathered - to use it against them? Ji Ho ran faster - despite his body's hammering ache and desperate pleads for some rest - and Vlad.

Kiyoshi, Vlad and Jack called the horses to search the surroundings. Vlad was torn. Of course he knows how negatively teleporting affects Ji Ho's (and his own) well being and it must be even worse now that he has his feelings back. Vlad would skip the search in an instant to care for Ji Ho but he also knows that Ji Ho would never accept his ministrations at the moment. In fact, rather the opposite. Ji Ho would be embarrassed to cause a fuss and make it even harder for his friends in need. So he kept on raking Tomarang. Ji Ho would send him away anyway.

Not many creatures are able to reach the Otherworld. And no one can stay for longer, so it was pretty pointless to ask the few people who are currently lingering here if they'd seen Tiny Can. But hope is the last to die. As Ji Ho, Jack can't believe either his tinny friend did something illegal to get them into trouble. Tiny Can's actions weren't always clear to them - but Jack is sure he always had good intentions. When Tiny Can let Jack getting killed or set Lou up with Caleb in the Therapy Game, Jack was upset and felt betrayed - of course he was. But in the end, all that Tiny Can did was to help him. He helped all of them. And they owe him. Without Tiny Can, he never would have been able to be mates, just mates with Kiyoshi and he never would have found ways to deal with his (many) disorders.

Kiyoshi rode over to the temples to talk to Arturo, but he also had no luck. One would think that Tiny Can would have ran for shelter to Arturo, who offered the Boys the circuit board with Tiny Can's AI 'to help them through this'. But Arturo didn't see him. Nor had he heard any gossip about a stray Astromech in the Otherworld from the visitor's of the temples he cares for. Surely someone would have noticed him.

And while the others turned every stone in Otherworld's Tomarang, Sai tried to catch a signal from Tiny Can to track him down. But it was as if he was wiped from the planet. They have no internet or phone reception here in the Otherworld, so Sai even connected his computer with their 'Post Office Device' to find a trace of him in the Muggle World - to no avail. And how could Tiny Can even reach the Muggle World without them teleporting him there? No, he must still be here in Tomarang. This little piece of junk must have supressed his signals! Ach, Sai distrusted this rusty tin can from the beginning! And he knew there was something foul about him. Even months ago, he already suspected the Council behind! But they all had been too excited about the Therapy Game and finally getting some help... And Sai had been too confident in his abilities to make it secure for them. But he utterly failed. The blame is on him and him alone. He never should have allowed Jack to bring Tiny Can among them. And he should never have installed that circuit board with the AI into Tiny Can. He created a monster that was bound to destroy them in the end. If the Council now has evidence they stole that much money, no one would be able help them anymore. They would get sentenced and sent to jail and that would incite even more hatred against creatures! All the creatures, in all the worlds... The creatures they are supposed to help. They are a shame and a threat for their community.

... to be continued

'Boom boom, ready to use my body Using the entire city of Seoul as my stage Nod, nod, your head I don’t want to be locked up Gather the crowds, let’s break the taboo We need to spread out Or else we might become scarecrows We can make empty lots into royal spaces This is the peak, don’t exit out now To the left, to the right, rock all night'

Block B - Shall we dance (Real Ji Ho's (and my favourite) group)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts here with this post :3 Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28

[riddlesrose]

on the chest of another

w/ astarion

cw; none but maybe mild ooc astarion

hi yeah i haven't posted in 13 months my bad enjoy

He doesn't know the last time he felt truly comfortable with another living person, he’d been turned into a blood-thirsty vampire hundreds of years ago, he slowly learnt that the people he attempts to love will wither away while he stays put, same age, same face, though he can’t see it. Astarion watches the world change and reform around him while he retains memories of those he loved before they were either taken by the cold hands of death itself or he was forced to sacrifice them to his evil lord, Cazador. 

When he’d been taken, kidnapped, vampnapped off the streets of Baldur’s Gate, he’d never been so thankful, he was free, albeit trapped in a flying ship with aliens and other kidnapees, he was free from Cazador and the horrible treatment he’d endured for years upon years. He felt unrestricted until they threw him into a pod, then forcefully inserted an alien-type creature into his eye. He writhed in pain, attempting to free his arms, hands or legs to fight back, but it proved fruitless, he was stuck, and now, he had no idea what was going to happen to him. 

Astarion doesn’t know how long he’d been out, unconscious but before he could collect his thoughts, he realized that the flying ship he was, unfortunately, still on, was on fire, being actively attacked. 

After the ship had been knocked around a few times, set more on fire, he noticed a person, they were free, walking around like nothing was happening, or maybe looking for an exit, but they were definitely too far for anything to be heard had he banged on the front of his pod. That’s it, this is his end, he’ll probably just die when this ship inevitably crashes. Oh well, it’s a better outcome than being Cazador’s slave for the rest of his miserable life. 

Astarion stirred, feeling the sun warm his body, wait, the sun? He shot up, he should be turning to ash, he lifted his hands to check he really wasn’t chipping away in the sunlight. This has to be a cruel joke, Cazador or someone of his likes toying with him, teasing him with what he misses and has missed for the past 200 years. That and maybe his own reflection. But oh dear, how he’s missed the sun. The feeling, how it makes him feel, he feels happy, momentarily, until he remembers what just happened. First, getting kidnapped, then having some kind of tadpole inserted into his brain, now, he’s in the sun. What the hell. 

Then he also remembers the lone traveller that wandered free upon the ship, they’re probably around here somewhere, he better lure them out, question them. 

Many weeks passed by, Astarion ended up joining forces with the traveller he almost attacked, whom he learned goes by Tav, a Githyanki, a wizard, a cleric, a Tiefling, a druid and a warlock. He’d fought in many battles, some great, some his companions dragged him to, earned himself a few new friends, shared many stories with the camp, and shared his secret. The camp was very accepting of his condition, as long as he didn’t feed on an unwilling target. Tav was a dear on the night he almost starved, he’d gotten so hungry he thought he’d be able to sneak a quick bite without Tav noticing, guess guards were still too high and they noticed as soon as he got too close at night. After exposing himself on accident, Tav had offered a small amount of their blood to aid him. Now, it’s almost nightly he’ll go find Tav in their tent or bedroll and sate his hunger. Rats and boars just don’t tide him over anymore now that he has his own food source, willing food source. 

“Astarion?” Tav stirred, cracking their eyes, while searching for his. 

“Yes, my dear?” He hovered over them, looking as if he was going to feed but almost backing away this time. 

“I can feel you hesitating, why?” Tav had always been able to feel when he made his way into their tent for his needs, sometimes they woke but never pushed him away or forced him to take less than he needed. 

“Why, I am not! I am simply… going to wait for you to go back to sleep.” He looked proud with his excuse. 

“Lies. There’s another reason.” 

“There is not.”

“Yes there is.”

“No-”

“I’m not going to argue this, Astarion, is there something wrong?” 

He sighed, moved himself to sit by Tav’s legs and looked away, not bashfully, he was embarrassed. Tav sat up as well, but scooted closer to Astarion so he didn’t have to speak above a whisper if he did not see it fit.

“I feel greedy.” His demeanor of wit and confidence melted away as the bugs and frogs sang their night songs in the nearby pond. The night was cold, usually lonely, but he felt a sort of comfort with Tav that he hadn’t felt in years, he vowed to himself after he was turned that all mortals were never to be loved by him. They were going to die and he wasn’t. It wasn’t fair, he wanted to grow old with someone he loved deeply, he wanted more than to be someone’s pawn, a spawn of evil intent, born to do no good. 

Tav did not say anything, only tilting their head to the side with empathy shining in their eyes. 

“Now, I’m not asking for pity, dear, don’t give me that look.” 

“I know, I was simply allowing you to continue without interrupting, but look where we are.” 

“Cheeky. Fine,” He took a breath, thinking for a moment, “I haven’t been free of Cazador in two hundred years, I am unsure how to feel, how to live, frankly. I have been his slave, I’ve done his dirty work for as long as I can remember, I had no way out, I was underfed, mistreated, beaten, used, abused, everything you can think of darling, I experienced it under Cazador’s orders.” Sometime during his small rant you had moved closer, draping a blanket around his shoulders, and rested a hand on his shoulder, showing support without interrupting him. Astarion looked over to you with pain and sadness in his glossy red eyes. 

“Why don’t you stay for a while, you can leave before the sun comes up, no one has to know the witty and confident Astarion we all know stayed the night in another’s tent.” Tav proposed. They moved back onto the bedding they had tucked into the most private part of their tent, allowing him to follow if he chose to. He was not pressured, not forced, but given complete free will of his actions, something he still could not fully capture the grasp of because of his past. He thought on the choices he was proposed, 

“Only for a few minutes.” He decided since he doesn’t really sleep anyways, he’s an elf. He crept a few inches closer, unsure of where to go, Tav lied down and patted their chest, colour rose to Astarion’s pale cheeks, he was thankful it was dark. He took a few awkward seconds of staring at Tav before snapping out of his trance and shuffling back a few inches so his head could rest on their chest, he felt out of place, inconvenient, a burden to Tav’s sleeping. He was about to get up and thank Tav for their time before they brushed their hand through his messy curls and he stopped. His heart began beating a tad bit faster, he promised, no swore, that no mortal would make him feel this comfortable, loved, cared for, he knew what was inevitable… 

After many minutes, Tav could feel his breathing slow as they continued to rake their hand through his hair, untangling pieces every so often, they watched his eyelashes flutter before his breathing fell in tempo with their own. Tav guessed it had been a while since he’d felt comfortable, given his history and all. It was true, so for the first time in many, many years, Astarion fell asleep to the sound of a heart beating in the chest of another. 

[scekrex]

How about Adam x Tall!Male!Reader?? You can do whatever you want with this, I just thought it would sound tooth-rottingly fluffy.

(Like maybe y/n is around the same height as sera, or maybe a little taller).

I did not specify how tall reader is but it's implied he's about the same height as Sera :3

Part 2

All I want is all you've got

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: beta read by @drxgonspine

For Adam it was extremely hard to get used to the fact that his boyfriend was taller than him - the only angels that he regularly met and that were taller than him were the seraphims. Yes, there were other angels taller than him, angels above the seraphims but those weren’t creatures the first man often interacted with.

It was also not that he felt threatened in his masculinity by the fact that you were quite taller than him, no, it was just that he was not used to it that angels close to him were taller. All his exorcists were smaller than him, they always had been. The winners roaming heaven’s glorious streets were smaller than him. Basically every mortal soul that had arrived after Adam had been smaller than the first man.

Expect you.

And no one really had an explanation for that either, most of the winged souls in heaven had simply accepted it as it was - the seraphims had not.

But that was not Adam’s problem to deal with. The seraphims still treated you respectfully and for as long as they would continue to treat the first man’s boyfriend well, he could not find it in himself to care any more or any less about their conflict with his partner’s height. He himself - despite not being used to it - found it quite relaxing to have a lover taller than himself. Because different from Adam, you were a warmhearted soul who wore his heart on his sleeve. You were a rush of sugar, a bright light in the dark and a kind soul through and through.

While Adam was loud and roughless, you were quiet and calm. You were his safe space, his home. You were the person who knew the true Adam, the Adam who could be quite soft and gentle, the Adam who loved unconditionally. You knew sides others would never get to see because the brunette felt comfortable enough around you to show you these sides without hesitation.

A thing you would have not expected when the both of you had started dating, was that the first man preferred to be the little spoon when it came to cuddling. He would press his face against your chest, inhaling your scent deeply with every breath he took as if it was what kept him high, as if your scent and your warmth were his own personal drug that kept him going. Sometimes, during nights when he was not feeling well or when the both of your schedules had forced you to be apart for longer than expected, he would gently grab one of your wings and wrap himself up in it like a burrito, he’d roll closer and closer to your body until his back would hit your chest. Then he would free one of his hands to reach out for your arm and wrap it around his in your wing covered body.

He was quite a touchy guy in general. In public he would sometimes sit proudly on your shoulder as you would carry him to your shared destination. He loved being close to you even though he would never admit to it out loud. But that was more than fine with you - you knew he felt safe around you, that you and your body were a comfort zone the first man never had before but always craved.

He did not need to admit it, not when his actions made it so obvious that he craved you in more than just a sexual way.

A thing the first man also adored was to simply lay on top of you, either on your chest or on your back - he really did not mind both. Though you had come to notice that he liked it better to rest on your chest because that way it was easier to kiss.

Whenever you were sitting somewhere, he would surely climb into your lap, using you as his very personal seat, sometimes he would even bring his guitar with him, depending on the situation of course. You loved listening to his tunes, though sometimes you thought of them as a little extreme. But it made Adam happy to play them for you and you enjoyed listening to them so you were not really complaining. Especially because you were not able to argue against Adam’s one and only, “That’s fucking Rock ‘n’ Roll, babes,” argument. Because it was and it's a good kind of rock too. So mostly you simply enjoyed the tunes he would play for you on his guitar and listen to his rough voice singing harsh lyrics.

Being taller than Adam also had the upside of being able to carry him home whenever he was too tired to fly himself - which happened more often than someone would think. He was unable to hold back during concerts and whenever those were over, you would gladly carry home a sleeping Adam who would curl up against you and mumble sweet nothings in his sleep. He was adorable whenever he had the opportunity of powering himself out entirely. That was until the morning after - then he would often complain about how his entire body hurt and how he was growing old - bullshit in your eyes but that thought you kept to yourself.

[empressofmankind]

Hooked On You

[Crocodile x F!OC]

Explicit with a capital E

Word count: 1.7k / 5 pages

(A/N) Featuring Crocodile and Shivs when they were still a thing. I don't know what force of nature even kept these two together. Actually, I do. Its shared and unresolved heinous trauma, and coping through mutual enabling with a side dish of codependency. They have so many problems. Gambling problems. Drinking problems. Marital problems. Who's gonna tell them sex isn't therapy? I am counting on you, Robin.

This is the same time frame as 'The House Always Wins', so ten years prior to the actual story and likely after hours at Rain Dinners. There's a joke in here somewhere about trouble in Paradise - literally, as that is where Arabaste is located. I haven't a clue in which larger fic I will stick this, but it is likely a long way off and it felt selfish not to share it.

Tag(s): Absolutely inappropriate use of that hook. Does it count as foreign object play? Probably. Its not a knife but I am going to say knife play because it is a stabbing weapon. I am sure the knife crowd is down. Thoroughly drunk sub, though he ain't sober either. We get a whiff of that daddy vibe of his, too. Obsessive and controlling behaviour? Definitely. Edging? The worst. Begging? Totally. Absolutely filthy language. I keep forgetting how foul-mouthed he is. Some mild degrading? Yes. What else? Are they still dressed? Yes. Married? For better and for much worse. Size difference? Still relevant. Power imbalance? Yes, she's so drunk. And so horny. He could turn her any which way rn.

My sincerest apologies for this title being the worst pun known to man, but the besties were asnooze and I had to make do.

🐊 🐊🐊

Hooked On You

“Ssh,” Crocodile said, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at Shivs, sprawled in his lap and across the couch. Her sparkly cocktail dress hitched up to her waist, showing off dark stockings against pale thighs. Who knew where she'd lost her heels? He stroked a red bang from her eye. It gazed up at him, large with need and drink. Again.

“Careful, honey,” he rumbled as his gaze lingered on her bare pussy. Watching her labia part against the smooth metal as he gingerly ran the tip of his hook between them. Felt her shudder, heard her quiet, plastered moan as her legs twitched towards each other. He didn't like it when she drank this much. “Keep those pretty thighs apart or you'll hurt yourself.”

He spread her open with two fingers, her inner folds slick and shimmering with her juices already. And touched the curved tip against the small, moist folds concealing her entrance. The breathy huff that drew from her fogged his thoughts with hazy lust, the ravenous beast within him stirring from its slumber. She was such a needy thing, and he wanted to see it. Wanted to see her eager little hole contract around the metal, grip at it with no hope of finding purchase. Watch her sweet juices run rivulets down its curve as she came for him, and only him.

She rolled her hips, and he stopped her promptly. Her protesting whine was as slurred as her speech had been. She squirmed, but he kept her put. His hook wasn’t sharp, per say, but it would not give in the way his cock would if she foolishly shoved her needy little cunt into it.

He waited till she stilled, fingertips brushing the edge of lace between stocking and thigh. When he dipped the cool tip between her moist inner folds, her legs twitched further apart for him. And the gluttonous creature inside Crocodile burred happily, devoured the pretty sight. He lightly, carefully, dragged the tip along her inner walls, searching for the sensitive spot just a little ways inside of her on memory alone.

A whimper, when he found it.

Her pitched moan as music to his ears when he stroked it again.

“Oh-ah!” 

Her hands shot down, weakly, drunkenly, scrabbling at the metal as she tried to tug him closer, feel more, feel everything, just the way she would if it were his fingers dug knuckle deep into her moist cunt. But it wasn’t.

“Shh,” Crocodile shushed against her red hair as he gathered her wrists away before she hurt herself with her blind need. She glanced up at him with such drunken lust that he almost forgot he was upset with her.

“You’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful,” he said, his hooded gaze on her parted lips, her panting breaths. And kissed her as he pressed the tip of his hook against that sweet, sensitive spot, gradually increasing pressure until she squirmed in his lap and moaned into their kiss.

“What is it?” he whispered against her bated breath as he paused and devoured the garbled, indecipherable plea that spilled from her lips. “You want me to fuck you with it? Is that what you want, doll?”

“Y-yes, p-plea-ah!”

Her precious mewls and the way she writhed in his hold with barely contained need spilled like gasoline onto the smouldering fire of his own desire.

“I can’t do that, honey,” he said as he gingerly guided it deeper, tracing the inward curve of her tight vagina, a passage he knew so well. “It’ll hurt you.”

She twisted in his lap and he had to pin her hips down, palm flat against her belly, to stop her rocking into his touch. She absolutely could hurt herself with her reckless, drunken actions.

“N-need. You-ah,” she whined in a tone that made him so hard. Made him want to toss her around, pull up that firm ass and fuck her sopping pussy full of cum like she deserved. A low, guttural groan clawed its way from his throat as he pressed her narrow hips down, pushed her butt unto his aching cock as he held her put. He wrestled the rapacious beast down, but only just. 

Soon, he promised himself.

“G-gim. Me. Ah-shole,” she complained. Her hands fisted into the cushion and the fabric of his pants, her knuckles bright and bruised.

“Ts-tsk. That is no way to talk to your husband.” He carefully withdrew his hook, her slick cunt making a delicious noise around the metal. “Don’t I take good care of you, sweetheart?”

“N-ngh-eed,” she whined as he slid the tip back into her with a smooth, languid push that followed the curve of her tight passage as far as it would go. “N-need you. T-to-oh-OH!”

“To what?” He mused against her hair as he stroked her lower belly, watched the muscles there clench and tremble at the lightest touch. The urge to bury his cock into her warm, snug hole clawed at his sanity like a living thing. He needed to have her. But he wanted to see. Wanted to watch her cramping pussy grasp at the metal as she came for him mewling his name. 

“You need a little help?” Crocodile said as he traced his fingers down to her pubes. “Is that it, doll?”

Shivs nodded, fingers digging into fabric and his thigh, barely managing a reply. “Y-yuh.”

He ran his fingertips in broad, lazy circles around her sensitive bud, never quite touching it. “You need a little help to make your sweet cunny make you feel so good?”

“Y-yes.”

“Why should I? You’ve been nothing but trouble.” He slid his middle finger down through her wet folds, teasing the hot, slick skin where his hook dug into her sensitive, pliable hole. “Tossing patrons, wrecking the floor, ransacking the bar. Why should I reward that kind of behaviour?”

“Am s-so,” she babbled as she arched her hips towards his touch. It felt good. Bad. Better than she’d ever thought it could.

“What was that, doll?”

“Am s-sor,” she wheezed as his thumb ghosted across her clit. “Ror-ry.”

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I s-said I am s-sorry!”

“Are you?”He teased her sensitive bud, delighted in the way she twitched, the way her toes curled. “Such sweetly false promises from my darling wife.”

“F-fuck you, C-croc-odile.”

Her fist came at his face half-heartedly, trembling from drink and desire. He caught it and pressed kisses against her bruised knuckles. “Yes, you will.”

When he reached down to rub his ring and middle finger across her clit, her fist latched onto his shirt, her fingers digging into the expensive fabric as she arched into his touch and hook, both, with the loveliest raw cry. He relished how much she wanted it.

He gathered her closer to him, keeping her hips locked against his own to stop them moving. He massaged her needy bud firmly, rubbing his fingers roughly against her the way he knew she craved. “Say my name again.”

“Hnn. Mmm. Croco-dile,” she whined drunkenly.

A deep grunt escaped him, his cock throbbing beneath her as he rubbed her aching bud between his fingers. He drew his hook back, lightly caressing the tip along her inner walls, searching. 

“Again.” 

“Croc-oh-dile!”

He could tell from her pitch he’d found it. The spot he knew would make her see stars.

“Once more?” he rumbled into her ear as she trembled against him, so ready to reward him. To show him what he wanted, needed. He watched her tether for a breathless moment, watched her slick pussy clench around his hook. Then nudged her across with a sudden, sharp tap into that sweet, sweet spot.

“Cro-oh. Ah! Yes!” she wailed, and he savoured the way his name broke as she lost it.  “P-plea-uh. Yess!” 

He struggled to keep her trashing in check as her orgasm ripped through her. Forcefully pinned down her narrow hips as they bucked against his firm grip. He kept the pressure on her little cum spot, rubbed her clit through her peak. His hungry gaze fixed on her sopping pussy, watching her tight hole spams around his hook. Her sweet cum gushing out, running down the slick metal and dripping from its curve.

She was perfect like this, and all his. 

And always would be.

“My darling wife is such a pretty slut, and ever so sweet to me,” he murmured into her ear as she calmed down, her panting breath slowing, steadying. The sweet trembles racking her body subsiding. “Able to cum on anything I put in her needy little hole. Even my hook.”

He drank in her blissful, fucked-out look as she gazed up at him through heavy lashes, the caress of too much alcohol lingering behind her flushed cheeks and bright eye. Her lips were parted, an edge of teeth visible. 

He withdrew his hook, and groaned at her meek whine and the way she reached for it. She was such a needy little thing. The ever-hungry creature within him stirred with a satisfied burr, never quite done feasting on her, devouring her every word, action, noise, sin. 

“You know what I am going to do after this?” 

He brushed her fussy touch from his hook, caught her fingers in his own as he rested the slick metal against her flat belly. The ravenous beast roared, no longer tolerating being ignored.

“I am going to wreck your pretty cunt and stuff it full of cum until you come apart beneath me,” he said as he pressed a kiss against her bruised knuckles, catching her bright, greedy gaze. “You need that, don’t you, honey?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

🐊 🐊🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @ruledbyproblematique @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @tiredemomama

[elliesflower]

i saw you in a dream [7]

summary; it's winter break and that guitar has got to go.

chapter; 7/10 2.3k words

cw (per chapter); language, angst, TW: CAT >:(

an; hellaaaaurrrrrr i don't have much to say except ur all amazing and wonderful and thank u so much for loving this story so hard. i love u all more than words. (also sorry not much ellie in this chapter, next chap will be longer and most likely have smut teehee) ((also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's weird mistakes i'll go back nd fix later ok love u bye!!))

Your last interaction with Ellie had you feeling pretty defeated. You had thought that maybe you were getting somewhere—but now, with Cat in the picture, you were ready to give up.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” Dina threatened when you explained the whole story. You shook your head, laughing. “Seriously, she has no right to fuck with your emotions like that.”

“Dee, it’s fine. I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking with me,’ either. Relationships can be messy and break ups are even messier. You of all people should know that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare even mention that disgusting, vile creature,” she pretended to gag at the thought of her ex. All the verbal abuse she had to endure, you’re amazed she lasted so long with them in the first place. “But seriously. You guys had a vibe. That was fucked up of her to not even mention it. It obviously seemed like she was intentionally keeping it from you.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to believe that Ellie wouldn’t do that to you. Realistically, you understood you barely knew her—the two of you had spent less than a full day together. Maybe it was silly to think she was letting you see her heart.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Dina pointed a finger at you accusingly. “Don’t do that hopeless romantic shit you always do. I’m telling you how it is.” 

“Okay, and maybe it is,” you agreed. “But—”

“Hello?! No ‘but’s!’ You need to forget about her. You don’t want to get tangled up in that mess, trust me,” she was speaking from experience, and you knew this. You wanted to believe Dina was right. Who would want to be caught up in lesbian ex-girlfriend drama? And yes, the lesbian part makes a difference. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of a new crush—the yearning to be in a relationship, so strong you feel like you’d do anything, anything to be with that person, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what they say. Lust can be dangerous.

“Okay, okay,” you gave in. “I’ll leave it alone.”

Dina squinted at you curiously. She probably didn’t believe you, but it didn’t matter. You knew she had your back, always. She’d never do something you weren’t okay with, and she’d forgive you if you did go crawling back to Ellie. Which was still very much…up in the air. 

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, but it wasn’t very definitive.  

The next few days were…weird, to say the least. With Christmas quickly approaching, the amount of people on campus slowly thinned out—Dina included. She was heading east to be with her family for the holidays, which left you alone in your dorm for a few days. You spent most of the time aimlessly scrolling on your phone, confirming next term’s classes, and making last-minute holiday plans with your own family. It was all very…mundane. 

Which is a weird feeling; your outside life being so normal, while your brain was scrambling trying to make sense of your feelings about the whole Ellie situation. It had been over a week, and she hadn’t texted. Neither had you, but you weren’t sure what was left to say. You wanted to side with Dina, leave Ellie in the past and let Cat have her. 

But the other part of you—the hopeless, yearning sapphic—wanted to reach out. Every time you saw a short-haired redhead from the back, your heart rate increased. It was a little pathetic, if you were being honest, the way your heart fell when they’d turn around and it was not in fact Ellie coming to reconcile. It made you want to call her; want to see her; want to see if the two of you could really become something, after all; want to know what else spilled from her lips when she was high, and anything else she’d give you. 

It sure didn’t help that everytime you walked into your dorm you were stared down by the guitar you were really regretting buying instead of renting. Now that you didn’t have a….teacher, anymore, you were sure it’d just start collecting dust over there in the corner. 

“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself one day after you’d been staring at the case for far too long, deciding you were going to take it down to the student store and see what they’d offer you for it. 

The weather was bitterly cold, but it surprisingly wasn’t raining. You zipped your coat up all the way to your chin, readjusting the guitar strap over your shoulder as you walked across campus to the store. Today was the last day it’d be open before they closed for the holidays, so naturally the store was eerily empty, aside from the two students working behind the counter. 

You let your fingers trail across a few cute embroidered journals on your way up to the counter, where a very unenthusiastic student turned to greet you. 

“What can I help you with?” They asked flatly, resting their elbows on the wooden counter that separated the two of you. 

“Uh, I was hoping to see how much y’all would give me for this guitar,” you explained, hoisting the case up to the counter and unlocking it. Upon flipping the top, the worker gave out a low whistle of appreciation. 

“Has it ever even been used? It’s in perfect condition,” they said, grabbing the neck to pull it out and examine it. 

“Uh, just a handful of times…I took the class for one semester,” you explained, one hand subconsciously rising to rub the back of your neck sheepishly. 

“And you didn’t just rent one?” 

Okay, well damn. 

“Wasn’t thinking, I guess…” There’s nothing like a stranger confirming what you already knew to make you feel even worse about your initial purchase. They gave you an amused smile before leaning the guitar against the back of the counter.

“Give me a minute to run some numbers,” and luckily, they didn’t mention your stupid purchase again, and retreated to a computer. You leaned over the counter as well, pulling out your phone to mindlessly scroll. The electronic door chime sounded from behind you and the other employee shouted a greeting across the store. You didn’t pay it any attention until you heard a very distinct voice respond.

“Oh my gosh, it is freezing out there!” 

Your whole body tensed, your grip on your phone becoming tighter as she started to chatter away—of course her striking presence had the other employee out of their seat, smile plastered across their face as they made their way over to continue chatting with…her. 

Of fucking course. 

The whole point of coming here was to get this little part of Ellie out of your room—and now, an arguably bigger part of Ellie just came waltzing through the doors. You made it a point to keep looking at your phone, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of your attention. Even though she definitely had it, how could she not? Her voice was sickeningly sweet, even though it somehow made you feel sour, resonating over the quiet music playing in the store.  

“Elliott, you are such a riot!” She laughed from behind you. Her vernacular was straight out of a sixties romance movie, and you wondered briefly if that just added to her charm. You’d known girls like her—you know the ones who have to swear up and down that they’re not like other girls, when in reality, they are like clones roaming the earth. They all have the same cadence, the same attitude, the same god complex. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant. 

“Alright,” the clerk said after another grating minute of you trying to remain undetected. “This is the best I can do for you.” They at least had the decency to look apologetic as they slid you a scribbled note. You blinked down at the number. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled. The offer was less than half of what you originally paid for it. Not that you were expecting a miracle, but this was a little insulting. “You said it was in perfect condition…”

“I know,” they agreed, putting up their hands defensively. “There’s only so much I can do. I have to go by the school’s policies.” 

You frowned at the note for a moment, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and never sign up for that stupid guitar class. Or even if you did, you wished you’d never seen that stupid flier on that stupid tree on this stupid campus—maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck with your heart in your throat, choked up listening to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend slash roommate filling up the room with her stupidly charming personality. 

Wait a second, did she leave? Her voice disappeared, and the second clerk was returning back behind the desk. Maybe you should—

“Oh, c’mon,” she was peering over your shoulder in an instant, invading your space and making you flinch. Her floral perfume overwhelmed your nose, her black and silver bracelets tinkling as she examined the note on the counter. “We can do better than that, no?” Her arm was pressing your bicep, she was so close to you, you could hear her breathing and see her perfectly styled hair framing her sharp cheekbones. You were so taken aback by her boldness, by her invasiveness, you found yourself nodding.

She looked over at you, and her teeth were like pearls, shiny and probably not real. You just blinked at her, acutely aware that your expression was most likely not very kind. 

“Look, Cat,” the clerk started, and of course they knew her name. “You know I have to follow university protocols for these kinds of things.”

“C’mon, Dakota,” and yeah, of course she knew their name too. “There’s nothing you can do? For old times sake?” She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin in her hands with a dopey look on her face. Good god, is this a joke? If so, it wasn’t very funny, because Dakota was now suppressing a grin, grabbing the paper off the counter before glancing at you briefly. 

“Let me see what I can do,” they smiled, returning to the computer. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Not that it would make much of a difference, anyways. You were pretty much invisible until Cat showed up anyways. 

“Well, that’s more like it!” Cat grinned, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the counter, facing you. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” An afterthought. 

You forced a smile back, your deeply embedded people-pleasing outweighing your disdain. 

“Cat,” you went straight for the formalities. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. “Likewise.”

“You left so quickly last week I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulder. It was like she was from another planet. “Ellie’s been talking about you.” You really hoped her otherworldliness didn’t give her the power of supersonic hearing, because she may have heard your heart fall into your stomach at the mention of Ellie’s name. But perhaps, she still did anyway, because she was cocking her head ever so slightly, crossing her arms over her chest again. 

“Oh, yeah I wasn’t…feeling great,” and it wasn’t a complete lie. You’re amazed you didn’t throw up all over the both of them the minute Cat got all handsy with Ellie. Cat still looked at you sideways, like she was waiting for you to respond to her comment about Ellie. No way she was talking about you with Cat. It had to be a ruse. You chewed at your bottom lip nervously, averting your gaze to fidget with your hands rather than be trapped. But she wasn’t giving up.

“Well, she’s been going on and on about how she was so happy she could help you pass your final,” she said, and half of her words were punctuated with a hand gesture. Your heart wa thrumming in your ears.  “She said you were a quick learner and so eager to play guitar. I just didn’t take you for a quitter, the way she talks about you!” 

Talks. Present tense. Fuck, she was good at this. 

“A quitter?” 

“Well, you’re pawning off your guitar,” she said matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow, but quickly let it smooth out. 

“I never planned to play guitar long-term. Ellie knew that.” Or at least you thought she did. Cat was making it really fucking hard to tell what was real or not. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before she was standing up straighter and shaking a few jet-black tendrils of hair from her face. 

“Well, then,” and she was no longer holding back. Her eyes very blatantly scanned you, up and down before she continued. “Let’s see what we can get you for this guitar then, yeah?” 

And as if on cue, Dakota returned to the counter. They walked straight to Cat as if you had never existed in the first place. 

“Alright, how’s this?” He slid the note over, and the number was significantly higher. You felt like a second class citizen. You were fuming—not that they would notice as they looked into each other’s eyes like they were Romeo and Juliet or something. How is it that Cat can weasel her way into everything that’s yours? 

Hah. As if Ellie was ever yours.

[alpaca-clouds]

Fixing Karlach's Companion Quest

Let me ramble a little bit, after this post venting about the 3rd Act and especially how underused Karlach is was shared quite a lot. Because believe me people, I have thoughts in regards to how one could do her companion quest.

As I said: Out of the origin companions Karlach by far has the most lackluster companion quest. In fact her companion quest has less content than the quests for Halsin and Jaheira. Because basically Karlach's companion quest has only those steps:

Find the "Paladins of Tyr" and defeat them

Go find Infernal Iron for Dammon in the grove.

Give another Infernal Iron to Dammon at the Last Light in.

Defeat Gortash (which you have to do either way, no matter whether Karlach is on your team).

Which is not a whole lot.

The only decision Karlach will have in her entire questline is always "Does she want to die or rather go back to Avernus with Wyll?" And both are most certainly bad endings for her. And while Baldur's Gate (the city) is filled with those Steel Watch soldiers, that have a working infernal engine, the player does not get a chance to somehow try and follow up on it.

So... Let me talk on how I would write her quest.

Act 1

For the most part I do think Act 1 for her is alright as it is. I would maybe bring in some more tension into the story of some folks from Avernus coming for her. That does not need to happen in Act 1, but it should be hinted at. Because when we meet her, we learn that she had been haunted for days by folks from Avernus, but then... we never see anything of that outside of the paladins and the stuff with Mizora and Wyll. And that is kinda a let down.

Just hint at some infernal creatures being seen or something. Make her a bit more anxious about it. Something like that.

Act 2

The big issue is that Karlach has basically no content at all in Act 2 right now. Like, at all. You meet Dammon early on, bring him an infernal iron that you probably already have on hand. If you romance her you can get the first sex scene with her afterwards. And yes, if you actually go around talking to all the NPCs you will find one, who has a message from Flo, a demon who was a kind of "friend" to Karlach in the hells. Which is where we get introduced to the thing that feels like it should go somewhere - but never goes: The soul coins. While we can already collect those in Act 1, this is where Karlach actually explains what the Soul Coins are. And it is pretty clear that this at some point was the set up for a corruption arc... Only that this arc never happens.

Something I would do to play from this is, that sometime during Act 2 you will encounter some devil (maybe they'll actually come to camp) that will actually challenge you on Karlach. And during the fight she would through some way or another actually use a coin (just make somehow sure she has one) and there are gonna be consequences from that.

You can talk to her about it, she probably would just act as if it was nothing. Something like that. Just build that one up.

Act 3

See, I kinda think I know why the soul coin thing goes nowhere. Because for the Soul Coins to be used you need to have Karlach on your team - and generally speaking the game does not force you to have certain characters on your team. Sure, for some events on the companion quests you get highly encouraged to take the companion in question along, but... You are not forced to do so. And for Karlach to get corrupted she would kinda need to use the Soul Coins - and implementing that would have been a bit harder? However, here is what I would do:

Once you get into the city, you will sooner or later find Dammon. Karlach will ask about him, you take her to meet him. He will tell you, that he has no idea how to fix the engine. But the player will get the ability to note that ineed the Steel Watch are running on Infernal Engines, and hence understanding them might help. Hence, this will actually also give you another reason to go to the Forge, which can then double as Karlach's "Dungeon". You will try to find some stuff here - and from there you could go different parts.

Either you really frame the entire Karlach conflict around the soul coins, or you frame it around her want for revenge. I think storywise the soul coins would work a lot better - however they would also need a lot more change in the game.

Because a Soul Coin plot would probably build around her using the Soul Coins again and again and through it losing control. Basically a addiction metaphor. And for that you would either need to talk her out of it or the engine could actually fail earlier than the finale. If you really want to be a bit evil... let her die earlier on. I mean, the game lets characters leave/die earlier, so it is fine to let that happen, right?

The revenge plot is easier to do. You go to the Forge, deal with the Gondians one way or another, you bring those plans to Dammon and he realizes he needs something (a MacGuffin, a specific bit of information, whatever) to actually fix the engine. And this is something that Gortash has.

I wrote about this before: I generally think that even in another origin playthrough or a Tav playthrough the game would be better if you could actually get Gortash to give up rather than fighting him. For one, the fight against Gortash is boring, but also it would improve the story a lot more to get to see both him and Orin with a bit more nuance.

In this case the story would go like that: You go to Gortash. Given this is past the Forge storyline there is a good chance you destroyed his Steel Watch. He is pissed. Well, works good, because so is Karlach. Of course he does not want to help you - and Karlach wants to kill him. Still, you need his help to save Karlach. So you need to convince the two of them in one way or another.

I think this is especially poiniant because one of Karlach's biggest wants is actually a regretful Gortash. And sure, she will not realistically get that anytime soon. But give it a chance?

Well, either would work: A story about the Soul Coins - or one about the entire revenge plot. In my fics I went with the second one, because only a few plot points needed to happen differently for that. But if you were to remake parts of the game, I think both would be nice solution. (For my alternate Gortash confrontation: Hurt Begets Hurt.)

[seafoamwaffle]

Next Stop: Pelican Town // Stardew Valley AU

Ever since @norinenglish posted about their stardew ranchers fic concept I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head, so I've decided to make it everybody's problem.

I'm not going to be following the farmer's story beat for beat, instead, I'm just taking it as a loose inspiration and seeing where it takes me. Is there going to be more? Who knows, certainly not me!

First draft of Jimmy coming to the valley can be found under the cut :D

The bus travelled down the lonely highway, the slight unevenness of the road sending Jimmy’s head bumping against the window. There were endless mountain ranges just on the other side of the glass and peaking between the small crevices he could even see the ocean. Verdant grass covered every inch of the place—such a far cry from the dull greys of Zuzu City. 

Which, he supposed was the point. Looking back at it, it was only a matter of time before the city chipped away at the last bits of himself until all that remained was just a shallow husk of a being. It was too loud, too full, too much. 

Though who was he kidding? He could blame all his recent troubles on the city all he wanted, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was no guarantee things would get better in Pelican Town either. 

Positive thoughts, Jimmy, warned Pearl’s voice somewhere in the back of his head. Positive thoughts. 

Right. Things at least—probably?—couldn’t get any worse than they had been. And now he at least wouldn’t have to burden his cousins with coming all the way out to Zuzu City to keep an eye on him. 

It had been their idea to have him move back to Stardew Valley in the first place. Grian had suggested he stay with him up in the spare bedroom of his cabin, though Jimmy had resisted the idea with all his might. He’d caused them enough trouble as it was. The last thing they needed was to have him leeching off their kindness at all hours of the day and invading their personal space. 

After that conversation though, the incessant need to move out of that city to get away increased tenfold, until his small apartment full of stuff that wasn’t even his own began closing in on him, until there was no longer enough space for him to even breathe. 

“What about Gramps’ old farm?” Grian had asked as they were lounging on the couch one evening. “You wouldn’t have us breathing down your neck all the time there and we’d be a few minutes walk out if you ever needed company.” 

“Have you been to that place at all in the past few years? It’s so overgrown you can barely get to the house!” Protested Pearl. Her legs were draped across the both of them while she nursed a bowl of popcorn in her arms. 

“Okay, so it needs a little bit of cleaning up—”

“Understatement of the year.” 

“—but it would solve our conundrum here, right Timmy?” 

Two sets of eyes turned to stare at him as Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pretended he’d still been paying attention to the long-forgotten movie playing in the background. 

“I… I think I’d need to sleep on it.” 

Up until that point he hadn’t thought about the old ranch much. Though he had spent most of his early childhood there, he and his mum moved to Zuzu City after Grandpa passed away. He can’t even remember if they ever came back to visit, although that’s not exactly something he could ever blame her for. What was there to return for besides memories now painted over by grief?

He had loved that place to bits as a kid. How could he not? It was a pocket of the world that always felt as if it had been carved out just for him, endless fields and meadows he could run around until he could no longer catch his breath, chasing around friends whose faces he could barely recall anymore. And the animals—the chickens, the cows, the goats, creatures that at times understood him better than any person could. He wanted to become a vet because of them, though that dream was now long forgotten, locked away with every other ambition. 

It had been the happiest he’d ever been. 

That realisation had hooked its claws underneath his ribs and refused to disappear, reminding him of its existence with each breath he took. 

He could have that again if he gave it a try. 

At first, he attempted to squash that idea down as best he could, to lock it away in a small box tucked at the very back of his mind. It tasted too much like the sickly sweetness of false hope and he wouldn’t—couldn’t let himself be overtaken by it again before he inevitably came crashing down into reality. 

But it was too persistent, growing louder and louder the further down he attempted to push it. So, when he had gone through the few things he still owned from back then and found the deed to the old ranch tucked between photo albums and Grandpa’s old books, it felt as though fate had made the decision for him. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

It was all too soon that the bus hissed to a halt at a small clearing with barely any indication that there was a bus stop to begin with, besides a ticket machine tucked to the side that anyone could miss easily if they didn’t know it was there. With dread and anticipation both mixing in the pit of his stomach, he stepped out into the open. 

“Timmy!” 

Before he processed what was going on, there was an arm that hooked around his neck, pulling him down enough for Grian to reach and ruffle his blond hair. It took him a moment to pull out of the grasp. 

“What happened to a good old-fashioned hello?” 

“Welcome to Stardew Valley!” A theatrical voice boomed from the side, immediately catching Jimmy’s attention. 

On the dirt path leading to the bus stop stood a man dressed in elegant reddish clothing. He leaned heavily on an ornate cane while his other hand held a matching tophat. A wide smile overtook his features. Behind him he caught a glimpse of Pearl, sitting on a wooden fence.

The stranger made his way over to them. “I’m Scar, mayor of Pelican Town.” He offered a small bow, before placing the tophat back on his head and offering Jimmy the now free hand. 

“I’m—I’m Jimmy Solidarity.” He stumbled over his words as he shook the hand of this clearly important man. His brain wasn’t going to let him forget that for weeks to come. 

If he noticed anything amiss, Scar didn’t comment on it. “I’ve heard a lot about you! It’s not every day someone new moves it. It’s quite a big deal! The entirety of Pelican Town is anxious to meet you.” 

The words sent Jimmy’s stomach tying up in knots and though he attempted to cover that up as best he could, the pitying look Pearl sent his way told him he hadn’t done a good job at it. 

“How ‘bout we take him to the cabin first, yeah? I’m sure others are gonna be able to wait until he gets settled in.” 

Scar’s smile never wavered. “Why of course, of course. Just follow me!” 

An uncanny feeling crept up his spine as they walked down the dirt path he must’ve walked through thousands of times as a child. It seemed much smaller now, the wooden fences surrounding it were much worse for wear. Something so familiar growing into something foreign. 

They stopped once they reached another big clearing and oh—he’d thought Pearl had been exaggerating about how overgrown the property had become. But weeds and debris stretched as far as he could see and where there used to be fields full of crops now grew sturdy trees. 

And the house… Well, it looked as though no one had set foot in or around it in more than a decade, which he supposed must have been the case. 

“Told you it was bad,” Pearl half-snickered, though there was no real malice in her tone. 

“You’re exaggerating! With enough time this can all be fixed up easily.” 

“Says the carpenter. The house looks like it’s being held together with duct tape and Gramps’ old stubbornness! Are you sure this is even safe to stay in?” 

Grian waved a hand in dismissal. “I went to check it over a few days back. It’s not a luxury hotel or anything, it’s covered in about an inch layer of dust and I’m pretty sure most of the wiring and plumbing needs to be redone, but it’s not going to collapse at a moment's notice.”

“Reassuring,” Jimmy chimed in, though his gaze wouldn’t leave the old house. It stood tall, with warm-toned wooden walls and a big front porch leading to the reddish front door. The attic window had been broken, with plastic stapled on from the inside to prevent rain from soaking the inside. 

This was what had become of his childhood home. A broken, empty mess. 

“I mean, it’s got character, it’s rustic!” Scar jumped in.

“Crusty’s a better way to put it—” 

“Listen,” Grian jumped in, cutting off whatever Pearl was about to say. “I’ll help you get it back into proper shape as long as you’ll get all the materials, deal?” 

Jimmy mumbled something vaguely affirmative as he continued staring at the overgrown ranch in front of him. 

It was going to be one hell of a fresh start

[avesdraws]

I started writing a lethal company fic with my character like months ago. Uhhh...have it anyway even though it could have been better <- not a writer

Water droplets fell rhythmically to the ground, feeding pools of murky water that littered the halls. Somewhere nearby, a steam pipe had burst, letting out a horrid hiss and filling that portion of the facility with dense, white condensation. If Tom didn't know better, they could have easily mistaken it for breathing- more than once the sound had them spend the night awake, facing the entrance of their little shelter and expecting to see a thumper charge in.

About three days ago, they had a close call with one of those bugs when they had tried to retrieve a soda it had been carefully watching over. Tom came out victorious in the end, but the oversized insect had left its mark- a blood stained bandage rolled over their ankle where a claw had sunk in.

With that, the employee had decided that a shovel was not enough of a weapon. It made quick work of snare fleas, but it was slow and awkward to swing, too feeble for the other sorts of animals in the bunker, and absolutely useless against the ones that roamed the outside.

Even the baboon hawks had learned their tactic and lost fear of them. Quickly they would move out of the way before they could whack them, going in for a bite while they recovered from the swing.

No, what they needed was a gun.

They had no luck scavenging one, weaponry had become scarce. The Company had not offered any to their team, though they certainly must have known what threats the moons hoarded on their surface.

However, they did know who had a gun around here. Never before had the employee dared to face that thing, the mere sound of its footfalls would have the human run the opposite direction and hide. 

But just like how the creatures had adapted to their schedule, so had Tom adapted to theirs.

They had stalked it for some time now, carefully studying its behaviors and movements, the way it hunted- in such moments, they felt like one of their old crewmates. She had always been interested in these animals- they never understood why- and it had been one of her beloved dogs that had claimed her.

They still remembered her desperate pleas to be let in the ship.

Either way– they had learned this thing’s patterns, and any moment now it should show itself. It was early morning, time for a territory patrol.

It could have been minutes, or maybe an hour, until finally one sound cut through the steam and their heavy breathing.

Their hands clenched against the wooden rim of the shovel, they held their breath– it was here.

The stomping, a display of how fast the monster was with its long legs. Heavy, wooden boots hit the floor in a militaristic cadence, as if it was parading for a crowd to see.

It stopped somewhere in the dark, body clacking as it took a peek around, before hiding back inside its shell and continuing.

The human stood straighter, anticipation hitting them. Their fingers shook with energy, their heart beat so hard they thought it could burst out of their chest. They were scared.

Engaging with these creatures was never easy- as much as they hated them it was far smarter to avoid, keep their stamina and most importantly their life. 

A single miscalculation and It would be all over– They could not afford to fumble.

Each step brought it closer and closer, until the human could finally see its dark shape down the hallway.

It stopped and looked outside, its large eye blinking in search of prey. It was staring in their direction.

Not yet.

A clacking noise let them know that it was turning around. 

Almost.

It waited a moment, and then the large head of the toy faced completely away from their position, staring somewhere in the dark.

Now.

Throwing themself to their feet they sprinted forward, they raised their garden tool over their head, and with as much strength as they could muster they brought it down upon the vulnerable, squishy eye of the creature, staining the metal with red, unknown liquid that they were sure wasn't blood.

It turned and glared down at them.

They might have miscalculated how tough the animal was.

Tom’s mind froze with fear, slowly they took a step back, shovel held close to their chest. They had to crane their neck all the way back to look at it in the eye– its hideous, disgusting eye, which blinked down at them as if trying to make heads and tails of this little being that had so boldly tried to attack it.

Could it ever be curious? Did these things know or feel anything outside of bloodlust?

Slowly, one small step after the other, the human backed away from the predator, taking advantage of the soldier’s stillness to perhaps make an escape. They could not fight it this way, but maybe they could still escape, maybe they could still live.

Its arms moved, mechanically opening its massive shotgun and dropping a few pellets in there.

It was tired of waiting.

Tom turned and bolted. 

It fired.

Concrete chipped, blood sprayed and they screamed. But they managed to duck behind the corner with their head still attached to their body.

Their shoulder hurt horribly, and yet they ran still, quickly turning down one hallway to the other in the hope of throwing their pursuer off their tail.

They ran until they had no more breath. The employee threw themselves against a wall, hand coming up to grip the suit over their heart. They looked up at the ceiling as their breath clouded their visor slightly. Their chest hurt so bad, but their injury even more so.

Gingerly, the human turned to assess the situation. It wasn't– horrible, their shoulder was still in one piece, but a bullet must have gone in and, hopefully, out as well.

They grit their teeth and laid a palm on the injury, attempting to ease the bleeding.

Stomping cut through the air, and their blood turned to ice.

No

No, no, no– It couldn't be, how the hell did it track them?! How could these monsters traverse the facility with so much ease while they had gotten lost in the maze over and over again?! Why?! It wasn't fair!

Both hands went for the shovel, frantically Tom looked around in an attempt to spot the stalking creature. They felt slightly light headed, it took effort to prevent themself from falling to their knees. All they wanted to do was to curl up and hide away, to not see.

They didn't want to die.

They heard the steam around the corner, and they froze.

They were still standing, there was still a chance.

Breathing hard the human attempted to force themself off the wall and into the open, against everything their body told them they slammed the metal head of their tool against the concrete.

The stomping stopped and clacking replaced it. Bullets went flying their way.

Now they had its attention.

With that, they turned and dived for the thick barrier of white. They couldn't see a thing– the only confirmation that they were being followed was the angry music close behind– but they knew that the thing was going to be just as blind.

Tom jumped to a corner and crouched, waiting.

It stopped close by, weapon ready. This time the clacking was quick and awkward– confused. The plan worked.

The human jumped up and swung. Something squashed beneath, but the creature turned. It fired to their right, completely missing its mark.

The employee didn't let the opportunity go to waste, and they swung again and again.

Each shot from the gun came closer and closer.

Until finally they hit their target.

Something exploded, viscera coated their mask. The thing stiffened and fell to the ground like a plank of wood. Dead.

It didn't hit them immediately, for a moment they stood there in complete shock.

The threat that was keeping them upright was gone, and the employee fell as well beside the slain beast.

Tom felt on the verge of a heart attack, and the injury on their shoulder was still leaking, but they were alive, and they had won.

A grin spread on their face and they laughed. 

Turning, they came to face the carcass of their tormentor. The eye wasn't there anymore, just its creepy white head to greet them. Their body wanted to rest, but laying down there wasn't safe, so Tom stood once more.

Without regarding the creature a second longer they reached down and claimed their prize.

[fallenangelics]

Up Close And Personal With His Number One Fan

PAIRING | Alastor/Lucifer Mange | Morningstar

WORD COUNT | 1656

SUMMARY | For weeks now Lucifer has felt the beady eyes of some creature watching him and for weeks he had been trying to subtly figure out what it was. He didn't realise that Husk would be the helping hand that he needed or just what type of predicament he would get himself into.

RATING | Mature

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | @rubra-wav created the beautiful banner below so go check out their content since they have some amazing stuff.

EVENTS | @eclipsingbingo | Obedience | @kinky-things-happen | Tentacles | @fandombingo | Lucifer x Alastor | @multifandom-flash | Hates Being Touched

AO3 LINK | Read Here

Upon deciding he was going to stay at his daughter's hotel, Lucifer always felt the irking feeling of being watched. From the moment he exited his chambers up until he turned himself in for the night, he could always feel the stare of two beady eyes on him. 

At first, it had been the most annoying thing Lucifer had encountered, well, maybe not the most annoying since he had met a handful of Sinners that seemed to piss him off more so than the usual batch. Whenever he would catch a glimpse of swirling eyes they would vanish without a trace, leaving his skin prickling. Looming figures of shadows could be seen out of the corner of his eye, making him question if he was seeing things when he would turn to try and glance at it only for it to disappear with a wink.

Now though, it had become almost a part of his daily routine. Swirls of darkness seemed to linger at his feet when he would step out of his room, welcoming him to a new day as he exited his room and began making his way down to the ground level where most of the hotel residents lingered and where his daughter would be preparing for a less-then productive day. 

It almost seemed as if whatever was watching him was growing more confident, letting itself linger a little longer when Lucifer would try to whirl on it, letting him see whisps of it before it would vanish just like Lucifer had become accustomed to. It made his decision to not immediately reveal the entity when these occurrences first began happening more rewarding in some way. As if earning the trust of some lousy stalker was something that the King of Hell had to do. 

Reaching the foyer of the hotel, Lucifer’s eyes landed on the oddly placed bar and its tender as they were the only ones currently in the vicinity, everyone else either still harbouring in their rooms, loitering somewhere else in the hotel, or making their way through the Pride Ring. Sauntering his way over without the thought of it being too early to start drinking, Lucifer ordered a drink from Husk, letting the cat decide on what exact drink he had. 

“Don’t you care that it’s watching you?” Husk mumbled the question as he placed down a short glass in front of Lucifer, sliding it closer so it was within reach of Lucifer’s nimble fingers. As Lucifer raised his gaze from the drink to Husk’s face, a hint of confusion sparking on his features that contradicted the understanding, Husk continued, “It tried doing the same thing to me but once I figured out what it was I went right up to him and told him to screw off.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Lucifer said aloud, voice raised slightly to make sure that the entity caught gist of what he was saying. He saw Husk’s eyes flicker over his shoulder, locking onto what was surely watching him. “Rather it’s a pity that it hasn’t become daring yet. To think of all the things we could’ve done together by now if it had just stepped out of the shadows.”

“What…?” The words may have confused Husk, evident by his reaction, but they stirred along whatever was lurking. 

Lucifer could feel it grow closer, not even a second wasted as it slithered towards him. Watching Husk slink back as a blanket of warmth wrapped itself around him, Lucifer felt more than he saw the ghosts of hands cascading up his arms, long, sharp nails tearing against his skin. Flush against his back, he could feel the entity trying to close in, trapping Lucifer between the bar counter and whatever it was behind him. 

Husk stared at the scene for a few moments before shaking his head and discarding everything he had been doing prior to Lucifer’s arrival. Muttering under his breath as he exited the bar, slinking back off to wherever he had come from, “I ain’t dealing with this shit this early in the morning.”

Not caring for his departure, Lucifer slowly picked his drink back up and brought it to his lips, taking a slow sip of it as the entity behind him tried to engulf him more. Trails of shadows wafted into Lucifer’s vision, making its presence known as all patience fled from the entity's body after keeping their distance for so long.

“You are sure in a rush,” Lucifer joked as he finished off his drink, licking his lips as he placed the empty glass back down on the counter. The air around him seemed to thicken, an almost static effect slicing through it as Lucifer spoke to the entity. The noise sounded vaguely familiar but Lucifer didn’t care enough to waste time trying to pinpoint where he had heard it from. Shifting in his seat so he could turn around and face the creature, Lucifer was met with a shadowy mass. “If I knew all it would take for you to show yourself was an invitation then I would’ve done so sooner.”

The shadow didn’t say anything, just grinned. The smile spoke more words than Lucifer could’ve imagined the entity to. While it was looming, it was also welcoming, as if trying to entice him in. The shadow didn’t stop in its journey to try and engulf him, whisps of darkness swirling around him and gripping to his skin. 

Craning his head back so he could take all of the shadow in, some qualities of him seemed to ring some bells in his head. Two ears stood large on the top of the shadow’s head, two smaller twig-like antlers in between them; A coat seemed to flare out around where the shadow's hips would be; And Lucifer felt himself craning his neck back at a familiar angle, an angle in which an ache in his neck had appeared from how often he was being bugged by…

“Alastor?” Lucifer couldn’t help but question, finally piecing everything together as he stared at the shadow that he sometimes found loitering when Alastor was in a room. The grin on the shadow’s face faltered for a few seconds, never completely dropping but lessening in width.

Shaking its head at Lucifer, the shadow seemed slightly put off by the uttered name of its owner, but when nothing seemed to come of it in the passing seconds, it grew some of its confidence back as it advanced towards Lucifer again. The extended whisps of darkness also seemed to be steady as they curled up and around Lucifer’s neck, tilting his head further back even if the hold felt feather-light.

Even though it was shadows that were taking hold of him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel warm in their hold, sicking into it as his eyes drooped slightly. Staring up at Alastor’s shadow with half-lidded eyes, Lucifer, despite himself, felt himself relax and allow the shadow’s hold on him to grow. 

Leaning forward, the shadow’s face was mere inches away from his, a long, slippery black tongue poking out of its mouth and closing in on Lucifer’s face. Closing his eyes fully and waiting for the contact, Lucifer let his name slip out of his mouth once more, “Alastor.”

A static tore through the air, drowning out everything else in the room. What had once been warm turned to freezing cold and slimy as the soft hold turned harsh. Snapping his eyes open, Lucifer first took notice of how there were no longer shadows wafting around his body but thick tentacles that seemed to want to squeeze the life out of him. He could feel his neck start to constrict due to the pressure around it, his eyes now darting up to the face mere inches away from his.

In all his glory, the Radio Demon stood in front of him, a large grin set in place on his face. 

“What do we have here?” The static only picked up once Alastor spoke, his grin turning devilish as he stared at Lucifer as if he were prey. The shadow had fled to behind Alastor, standing behind as he watched Alastor take control of what was meant to be his. So that was why the shadow had been so cautious when Lucifer had said Alastor’s name. “I must say, with my shadow being disobedient, I didn’t expect to find you in its grasp.”

“Yeah, well then you had to go and ruin all the fun,” Lucifer allowed himself to stay in the tentacle's hold for a few moments longer before with a snap of his fingers it was all gone. One of Alastor’s brows raised as he witnessed a part of his power vanish off the face of Hell for a few seconds before he could feel them wiggling back to him. Pointing a finger at Alastor and going to shove it into his chest, Alastor shoots straight up to avoid it, one of his ears flicking as he stares down at Lucifer with his cane held out in front of him. “Since I have a negative Nancy like you spoiling my parade, I’m going elsewhere. I do hope your shadow is disobedient again.”

There was an amusement to Lucifer’s words and an underlining of something that Alastor felt a repulsion growing for as Lucifer stood up and began making his way back to the stairs before blinking out of existence. When he was gone, Alastor rounded on his shadow, watching as the creature prepared to sneak off again. 

“Don’t you dare,” Alastor hissed, his ears laying flat against his head. Though his shadow seemed to be paying attention, Alastor could feel it itching to get out again. With a sigh, he felt himself engulfed by his shadows and taken back to his room where he had previously been before being summoned. In the confines of his own room, Alastor questioned with uncertainty, “...Negative Nancy?”

[girls-alias]

Break - Sam Winchester P2

Title: Break - Sam Winchester Part 2 Words: 2,824 Relations: Sam Winchester X reader. TW: NA

Part 1

Prompt:

@animesnowstorm Requested Part 2.

Coming to Bobby's was supposed to be a short-term solution but 2 years later I'm still here. Bobby isn't getting any younger so to help the both of us, I've taken on some of his roles. I organised his whole house, every book had a place to sit where it was categorized and the whole main room turned into an intelligence hub. We were getting more calls from hunters needing information on creatures and soon became the hunter's help desk. Somewhere along the way, we began helping hunters find partners or if more people were needed for a hunt we were able to make a few calls and have hunters work together. It became a community more than a way of life that was lonely.

I wouldn't say that I avoided Sam and Dean but I didn't go out of my way to contact them either. I had avoided them at the beginning, Sam calling multiple times a day, and Dean texting me to keep me updated on their lives. But they eventually stopped. They didn't visit Bobby and I wasn't sure if it was because of me or because they were busy.

"You're up early," Bobby commented as he entered the room with tired eyes. I smiled, chuckling softly as I closed my book on Wendigo's.

"I'm trying to find someone to accompany Jacob, he's tracked a wendigo and needs backup but there's no one nearby and I've already called a few people and they refuse to hunt wendigos," I explained with a sigh knowing my headache wouldn't go away soon.

"Hardly hunters if they're picking and choosing what to hunt," Bobby rolled his eyes as he took a seat close to me. I chuckled as I nodded. I completely agree. "Why don't you go?" He asked curiously. I looked at him, shocked by his words. We haven't talked about me going back to hunting the whole time I've been here. Even when my wounds healed I was too busy helping Bobby.

It took a little convincing but I was eventually on my way to meet up with Jacob. I pulled up to the motel he was staying at. I got myself a room before introducing myself to him. I've talked to him over the phone enough times to know him but I've never actually met him in person. I knocked on the door to his motel room. Waiting as I heard him approaching the door.

The door opened to reveal a somewhat attractive guy. He's conventionally attractive but not my type. I smiled politely as he grinned at me. "Hey, I'm Y/N," I introduced but he chuckled.

"I didn't realise you would be coming, I didn't realise you were attractive, I would have called earlier." He complimented a chuckle in his tone. I giggled as I shook my head. I'm terrible at receiving compliments, they make me awkward but I always accept them.

"Thank you, no one else wanted to fight a wendigo so looks like it's just you and me," I shrugged but he smirked softly.

"Come in," He gestured as he stepped aside to hold the door open for me. I smiled gratefully as I walked in.

Bobby's POV:

I sat back, admiring Y/N's handy work, she's really made hunting easier for everyone and she did it without expecting anyone to thank her. She's amazing. If I was Sam and lost her I'd be devastated. I perked up as the landline rang. I answered with a 'yeah'.

"Hey, Bobby. It's Jacob, you got any books on changelings?" The voice called through the phone. My eyebrows knitted with confusion as I got up to approach the small bookshelf dedicated to changelings.

"Changelings? I thought you were hunting a wendigo, I just sent Y/N to you," I commented, wondering if she had lied.

"No. I don't hunt Wendigo. Y/N called and asked if I wanted to help Jacob F," He explained, my eyes widening and hands sweaty.

"Jacob Francis?" I asked, my voice slightly raised as I realised my mistake.

"Yeah, do you know any other Jacobs?" He asked as if it was a funny topic.

"I have the book but I'll call you back," I explained quickly before hanging up. I tapped away on my phone calling as I tapped my foot anxiously. Come on pick up! As soon as the phone stopped ringing I hurried to speak. "I messed up, drop whatever you're doing and get in the car."

Sam's POV:

My eyebrows knitted with confusion. "What are you on about?" I asked I hadn't spoken to him for months and now he was panicking telling me to leave. Dean lifted his chin as he looked at me confused, silently asking who it was. I pulled my phone away from my ear to put it on speaker. Dean moved closer to listen.

"Sam, I messed up. I sent Y/N to work on a case with Jacob," He explained but I was still confused.

"Is she okay?" I asked worried. How did he mess up?

"Which Jacob?" Dean asked seeming to match Bobby's panic. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He was staring at the phone intently.

"Francis," Bobby's words had barely finished leaving his lips before Dean was on his feet and throwing his things in his duffel bag.

"What's going on?" I asked both of them, the panic completely confusing me. Who's Jacob Francis?

"Where are they?" Dean asked my question going unanswered.

"Michigan, Motel Bear Cove," Dean nodded at his words.

"Should be there tomorrow morning," Dean added but I looked at him confused.

"That's at least two days drive," I commented but Dean didn't stop packing his bag.

"If you drive it is. Pack your stuff, you're wasting time." His tone was demanding. I shook my head, following his instructions. "Thanks for telling us Bobby, we'll let you know when we're there," Dean explained.

I held onto my seat tightly. Dean driving like he was being chased by the police. "Can you slow down?" I asked panicked, the car lifting from the ground as he went over a bump. "Who's Jacob Francis?" I asked but Dean scoffed.

"He's basically me when you were in college," Dean commented but I was still confused. "He can make anyone fall for him, straight guys, gay women. Happily, married old couples fall in love with him." He explained. I looked at him perplexed.

"So, why are we rushing to him?" I asked, the connections not computing yet. He groaned, seemingly thinking I was stupid.

"Bobby's sent Y/N to hunt with him. If she's with him long enough she'll fall in love with him. She'll get over you and he'll break her heart so she'll never want to date again. If she falls for him, you don't stand a chance," He explained quickly, I paused to think. Bobby and Dean still think I have a chance with her? She left me, we hadn't talked since she said goodbye.

"It's been 2 years, she probably hates me," I explained sadly knowing I had given up hope on her.

"Yeah and for 2 years I've been talking to Bobby. She hasn't moved on, she misses you and she only stayed away because she's been helping Bobby. She's turned Bobby's into an intelligence hub for hunters. She's made a whole system and we were working on getting her back into hunting so she can come back to hunt with us but he sent her to Jacob Francis, a man who can get anyone," He rushed to explain, his words took me a while to process.

"She still likes me?" I asked, more to myself than to Dean.

"Yes but not for long if she's alone with him," He explained, it all made sense now. I nodded, jaw clenching. I held onto the chair tighter.

"Can you drive faster?" I asked, Dean smirked beside me before picking up the pace. I already lost Y/N once, I can't lose her again.

Y/N's POV:

I sat eating with Jacob as we looked over the books I brought with me. He moved closer to me on the couch to read the book I was showing him. It confused me a little but didn't mention it, he must be an only child if he doesn't know about personal space. I cleared my throat, shaking my uncomfortable feeling away.

"It can mimic voice, we have to be careful out there and stick together so it can't lure us into a trap," I partially read the extract as I explained. He nodded, looking at me and not the book. I faked a smile but internally groaned.

"Sounds good, no separating starting now," He tried, clearly flirting. I chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, no." I shook my head. "I don't know you, I have my own room at the motel and I am currently your colleague," I explained making it abundantly clear that I was not interested.

"Oh, I wasn't trying anything, I was just making a joke. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable," He explained genuinely. I watched his expression confused as I wasn't sure about it. Maybe he was joking and I read it wrong. I swallowed my pride, sighing slightly.

"Sorry, I guess I just read it wrong," I expressed but he smiled, shaking his head.

"It's okay, everyone does it," He smiled reassuringly. I smiled back. His smile turned to a grin before he sighed. "I do want to get to know you thought," He commented. I looked at him confused, a part of me was curious about his meaning, and another part of me thought better. "Maybe we could work a few cases together. As long as you don't have to rush back to the hub," He explained. I looked at him curiously as he looked deep into my eyes. I hesitated. Maybe he was more attractive than I thought. I smiled softly.

"I'll see how you do on this hunt first," I teased, he chuckled as he nodded. I watched as he licked his lips. I tried blinking myself into reality. He smirked seemingly recognising my reaction. I cleared my throat, forcing a smile. "We should get some sleep, big hunt tomorrow," I explained. He nodded agreeing. He walked me to the door, smirking as I turned back to smile at him.

"Goodnight," He commented. I smiled softly.

"Goodnight,"

I got ready for bed, my mind wandering as I considered going to Jacob. I bit my lip as I considered but as I was about to leave my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was Bobby calling. I smiled widely.

"Hey, Bobby," I answered with a bright smile.

"Hey, it's a good sign you answered so quickly." He commented but it confused me. I chuckled softly.

"We haven't even started hunting yet," I explained, figuring he was worried I was dead or injured. We talked for a while, and he let me know how things were going back there but he didn't seem to want to end the call. Any time I explained I was going to hang up he made an excuse to keep talking. I eventually fell asleep on the phone to him.

I woke up to a knocking on my motel room door. I rubbed my eyes as I checked my watch. I stretched, yawning as I wondered if it was Jacob. There's no need to wake me up this early. I approached the door, undoing all the locks and opening the door. My eyes squinted in the bright light behind the figure. My eyes adjusted to look at the hopeful-looking Sam in my doorway. I froze. Why's he here, how did he know I was here? Am I dreaming?

"Sam?" I asked, my mind not believing he was standing in front of me. He smiled brightly.

"Hey," He said simply. I continued looking at him confused. "Can I come in?" He asked, I blinked quickly, still in disbelief. I stepped aside to let him in. He came further into the room, standing in the centre as I looked out the door seeing Dean wasn't waiting to come in. I closed the door and faced him.

"Where's Dean?" I asked curiously but he smiled.

"He's getting us a room," He explained so I nodded taking in the information. "You're not staying with Jacob?" He asked. My eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room.

"No, how did you know I was here with Jacob? What are you doing here?" I asked annoyance showing in my tone. I don't know why it bothered me but it did.

"Bobby said you might need some help," He shrugged but if that was true he would have mentioned it last night, I sucked my teeth as I thought. I rolled my eyes as it all seemed to click into place.

"I'm being set up," I commented, Sam winced at my words, only confirming it to be true. I nodded as I rolled my eyes, I moved to my bed, grabbing my jumper to put on as it was a little cold and I wasn't comfortable wearing a thin shirt without a bra in front of Sam right now.

"I didn't know until we were on our way," He explained but I was sceptical. I studied him, looking for a hint of a lie but there wasn't one. I sighed, rubbing my forehead as I thought.

"So, either you all don't trust me to be hunting again or you don't trust Jacob with me," I explained. Sam sighed, I have my answer.

"Dean said he's a player and can make anyone fall in love with him," He explained but I scoffed. Annoyed that they don't think I'm strong enough to not fall for his tricks.

"Oh, so you guys don't trust that I have self-control or you don't want me to fall in love with someone," I tried, my tone showing it was a trap. I need to know before making assumptions. Sam sighed recognising my trap. He seemed to fight himself before sighing.

"Y/N, I never stopped missing you, I know without a shadow of a doubt that even before you left I was in love with you, even after 2 years I still love you," He commented, approaching me slightly. Closing the distance between us. My breath hitched in my throat. We had never said the L word. We were barely dating. He licked his lips as he admired me. "If you don't feel the same, I'll walk away. I'll not bother you again and I'll wish you well. But if you love me, even a tiny bit then I'll fight for you," He explained, inching closer before he stopped just in front of me. I gulped. I looked up at him as I thought. He smiled softly. "Even a tiny bit," He repeated, looking deeply into my eyes. My eyes searched his as I knew the answer but didn't know if I had the strength to say it. He watched me closely, looking for a hint of my answer. I gulped, licking my lips as I parted them to speak.

"I-" I tried, my words escaping me. His face showed his worry about my answer. I smiled softly knowing I couldn't get the words out but I could still give him my answer. I reached for the back of his neck, leaning in as I pulled him down to meet our lips in the middle. He seemed relieved as he kissed me back. His lips moved with mine in sync as his hands hurried to hold me. I smiled against his lips, and he chuckled softly as he pulled my body against his.

His tongue graced my lips, soon giving him access and tasting him. We made out, hands hungry as we hoped for this one kiss to make up for lost time. A faint knock on the door interrupted us. We pulled away reluctantly, smiling as we admired each other. No one has ever looked as hot as Sam looks to me. His hands stayed on me as long as possible as I walked to the door. I pulled it up seeing a smiling Dean. I smiled brightly. AHHHHH my best friend!

"There's no blood, must be a good sign," He explained making me chuckle. I grinned widely, hurrying to hug him. He hugged me tightly, picking me up slightly to walk us into the room and closing the door behind him. "Too damn cold," He commented making me chuckle as he let me go. My smile never faded as Sam approached me from behind, he stood beside me, putting his arm over my shoulder making me internally squeal. I couldn't even dream of this moment being any more perfect.

Dean's smile beamed as he watched us. He seemed to celebrate like a teenage girl. Quickly hugging us both into a group hug. I smiled wanting nothing more than to never leave again.

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