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starredblood · 3 days ago

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NOWHERE GIRL

PART THREE

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: sae-byeok gets a concerning call from her brother while you start to get paranoid of yesterdays events.

wc. 2.3k

warnings: one mention of murder, mentions of bullying

(nowhere girl masterlist)

There is a lot Sae-byeok should thank Ji-yeong for in her life. They both met purely by chance. Whilst Ji-yeong had to do community service by cleaning up the park, she couldn’t help but notice a little pickpocketing thief roaming around. It amused her. When she approached Sae-byeok, the North Korean was the most guarded she’s ever been. It took Ji-yeong a year to finally get a name from her and her revealing where she truly came from and why she is living a life of crime.

Although Ji-yeong didn’t have much either, she felt bad for the girl who felt like the world had already given up on her. So, she gave Sae-byeok the opportunity to work at her old bakery job. Soon after, Ji-yeong suggested they should move in together as it would financially be beneficial since they can cut the cost of necessities like groceries. Surprisingly, Sae-byeok agreed but only with one condition: she will bring her little brother Cheol with her. Ji-yeong didn’t know that she had a sibling, nor that Sae-byeok was saving as much as she could through her job at the bakery and pickpocketing to have Cheol under her wing again. But she agreed nevertheless.

Sae-byeok knew that it would be hard for Cheol to transition from a children’s home to being under her guardianship and go to a proper South Korean school. Cheol, although naturally introverted, had a hard time getting along with the other kids at the children’s home. With all the trauma and isolation he had to endure at such a young age, he felt like otherworldly to the other kids. And he lets his accent slip from time to time so it worries Sae-byeok sometimes.

She thought that that the hard part was over, but new challenges arise everyday and she feels like she can never rest.

Sae-byeok was jotting down a customers cake order when the phone began to ring. The owner, Miss Ahn popped up from the kitchen to pick it up. At first she answers the phone with her usual warm tone which soon wavers into a worrying one. Sae-byeok takes a quick glance at Miss Ahn but didn’t have time to notice her concerned expression as she was still taking an order.

“Sae-byeok,” Miss Ahn says, cupping the side of her face with her hand and passing the phone to Sae-byeok when she finished helping the customer. “it’s…for you, dear.”

She mumbles a thank you to her and brings the phone up to her ear. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“N—Noona.” she hears a sniffling Cheol on the other end of the call and her stomach churns.

“Cheol, what happened? Are you alright?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“Can you come pick me up…I’m not feeling well.” he says weakly.

Sae-byeok’s breath hitches. “I’m on my way just stay put I’ll be there as fast as I can, alright?”

“O—Okay.”

Sae-byeok hangs up the phone and peers down at Miss Ahn, they both exchange a look of distress.

“Go. Don’t worry—and I won’t cut your pay for today.” she rubs the sides of Sae-byeok’s shaking arms, smiling weakly.

Sae-byeok isn’t used to kindness. “Thank you.” she whispers, although she isn’t sure if she actually said it out loud. Miss Ahn urges her to leave quicker, so she grabs her keys and wallet and sprints out the bakery forgetting that she still has her apron wrapped around her upper body.

She pulls out her phone to check whether taking the bus or running would get her to Cheol quicker. When the map shows that she’ll arrive five minutes earlier by bus she rushes to the nearest bus stop.

Although the bus arrived in a few short minutes, every second that Sae-byeok isn’t with Cheol feels like an eternity. When she got on and found a seat in the back corner, she stared out the window while bouncing her legs uncontrollably. She’s certain that people are throwing weird looks at her behavior but she doesn’t care.

When she makes it to the school, Sae-byeok has to wait another agonizing five minutes for the staff to retrieve Cheol and the anticipation was slowly killing her.

Cheol’s eyes were glued to the ground as he and a school staff walk side by side to the front lobby. When Sae-byeok spots him coming she kneels down and lightly grabs him by the sides of his face.

“Cheol, are you okay? Are you sick?” she presses the back of her hand on his forehead, he was warm but not enough to signal that he has a fever. But Cheol nods. “Are you able to walk or do you want me to carry you on my back?”

Cheol purses his lips in thought. “On…your back?” Before Sae-byeok spins around to carry him, he quickly speaks up. “Is it okay if we can get something to eat? I didn’t have lunch—but it’s okay if you can’t. I know we can’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, we’ll get some food want to stop by a food vendor?” Sae-byeok says without further thought. Cheol bashfully nods. “Hop on my back.”

Sae-byeok did her best not to show any signs of exhaustion as she carried her brother on her back so he wouldn’t second guess himself. Although the sun was beaming, it’ll all be worthwhile by the time they make it to the park with their lunch.

The two siblings found a bench shaded underneath a large tree. Sae-byeok handed Cheol the cup of tteokbokki from the street vendor.

“I already ate.” she lies, knowing that that’s the reason why he’s so hesitant to eat the food. He looks up at her, with round doe eyes then back down on the tteokbokki and to her relief he slowly starts eating. Sae-byeok’s eyes wander around the park while contemplating if she should ask Cheol the real reason why he wanted to skip school today. She already has her suspicions.

She waits for him to finish eating before she talks with him. “Cheol.”

“Hm?”

Sae-byeok exhales. “You aren’t sick, right?” Cheol bats his eyes up at her, cheeks burning red. “I’m not mad so you can tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want to stay in school?”

Cheol’s eyes start to gloss over and his bottom lip quiver. Sae-byeok rubs his back reassuringly.

“They’re all so mean here, Noona.” he whispers, wiping the tear streak with the hem of his sleeve. Sae-byeok’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach. This is what she was afraid of.

“Are they…bullying you?” she asks carefully.

Cheol shrugs. “They keep making fun of my accent.”

“Did you tell a teacher?”

“Yes but…they only do it during recess time.”

That’s why he said he was hungry. He wanted to skip recess time.

“But,” Cheol says hopeful. Sae-byeoks peers away from the ground to look at him. “I think I made a friend. He defended me the other day.”

Sae-byeok wants to be happy for Cheol, but things like kindness and empathy isn’t a luxury they tend to experience. But she tries her best to form a smile for him.

“That’s great, Cheol.”

He takes a final bite off the rice cake then speaks again. “He also likes to color so during lunch time we color with the oil pastels your new friend gave me.” he lets out a gasp of remembrance and starts rummaging through his bag. He hands his sister a drawing. The drawing was of him, Sae-byeok, and their parents all holding hands smiling.

Sae-byeok didn’t notice how hard she was clutching onto the sides of the paper, or how her eyes began to form tears.

“Noona? I’m sorry—“

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” she quickly says. “It’s amazing. You’re really talented.”

The Kang siblings share an embrace. After years of feeling isolated by this new world, slowly but surely they are getting there.

They spent another hour or so at the park until they decided to get back home, Sae-byeok carrying Cheol on her back the entire way home since she used her last bit of disposable income for the bus and Cheol’s lunch. By the time they arrived, Ji-yeong already made it back and she spoke loudly on the phone with someone until saw the two arrive so she tones herself down.

“Go get changed.” Sae-byeok tells her brother. He nods and scurries to their room.

She leans her body on the kitchen counter, waiting for Ji-yeong to end her phone call.

“My uncle.” Ji-yeong says when she tosses her phone across the counter. “He gave my piece of shit dad this address so now I’m receiving his letters.” she points with her chin at the stack of letters on the living room coffee table.

“What is he saying?”

“I don’t know—I haven’t opened them. Probably some bullshit excuse about why he murdered my mom.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t say anything. It always astounds her how freely Ji-yeong speaks of her past traumas. But they’ve spoken about them so many times it no longer takes a toll on them to say the words aloud.

“Why did you pick up, Cheol early from school?” she asks.

“Some kids kept making fun of him.”

Jiyeong purses her lips. “It’ll get better for him over time.” her roommate just shakes her head in agreement. “Also, this might be a bad time, but we need to get groceries.”

“Yeah, I know.”

It was easy to tell how defeated Sae-byeok appears to be. Her bangs still clinging to the sweat on her forehead, she still has on her work apron on, and her breathing is still unsteady.

“Actually,” Ji-yeong chuckles nervously. “nevermind. You can stay here with Cheol I will just go.”

“Okay.” Sae-byeok says, too tired to retort back.

When Ji-yeong leaves the kitchen to go get dressed in her room, Sae-byeok pulls out a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket and starts to unfold it. She grabs the kitchen magnet and hangs Cheol’s drawing on the fridge then makes her way to the couch where she lies face down.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

As long as you had your internship at the art gallery, your sanity will remain intact. Or so you hope.

However, today was a heavier workload at the art gallery with majority of your morning being unpacking and installing a new exhibition. And by the time you and your co-workers finished the morning task, it was lunch time and you both agreed to eat outside rather than in the break room.

“So, now can you tell me what happened?” your college friend and co-worker Mi-Cha asks once you guys found a secluded area in the outdoor dining hall of the gallery.

“Yoon came up to me in class and asked me if the ‘rumors’ were true.” you explain with fervor in your voice, stabbing your salad with a plastic fork. A gasp escapes Mi-Cha’s lips. “And I didn’t say anything but I guess she saw the look on my face which gave it away then after she went to tell her friends. So, yeah, I’m probably screwed.”

“No, you aren’t screwed. This is a very developed school—we go to an art school for goodness sake!” she says to soothe your anxious mind. “I’m sure no one will care, we are all deprived college students.”

“You’re right.” you mumble. “But Yoon is so kind. Do you really think she’s—?”

“I don’t know. She seems cool but you can never really tell what people’s intentions are, it’s scary.”

“Well, I’d rather not try to figure it out. I just have to avoid her and her friend group for the rest of the semester.“ next thing you know, you let out a laugh. “This is so ridiculous! You would think that we are past bullying and mean girl cliques by now? The fact that I have to be afraid of running into Yoon of all people is so childish.”

“Some people just can’t let go of their high school years. It’s sad.” your friend sighs.

You two sit in silence for a bit to finish your food before it’s time to go to work again.

“Hey.” Mi-Cha says out of the blue. While still chewing on your salad, you raise both your eyebrows to signal to her that you have her attention. “How is that new place you’re staying at going?”

“Eh.” you shrug. “Ji-yeong, my old classmate, is nice. A little aloof but she’s really nice overall and keeps packing my lunches hence this salad. Her roommate though...”

“Ah. Bitchy?”

“Not bitchy more like—how should I put this��guarded? I’m pretty sure her and her brother are defectors so maybe that explains why she doesn’t trust me. Because she definitely thinks I’m going to steal their shit or something. But I’m only staying with them until Friday so.” you shrug.

“Where are you staying once you leave?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” you admit shamefully. “Maybe a shelter.”

“What?” Mi-Cha’s eyes widen. “No, come stay with me at my dormitory again—“

“I can’t it’s too risky. All the resident assistants recognize me now so if I get caught one more time I could lose my scholarship and then everything really go to shit. I just need to weight it out until this semester and summer break so I can live in the dorms in the fall.”

You two sit in silence to process the stressful situation you’re currently in. Your cheeks bloom red in embarrassment.

“Wow…I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” Mi-Cha mumbles.

Her pouty lips make you chuckle. “Hey, don’t cry before we have to go back to work. Again.” you say to lighten the mood.

“That was so embarrassing last time.” Mi-Cha facepalms. “That poor old lady endured my venting when all she wanted was to buy an art piece—I’ll never live that down.”

“At least she agreed that your ex was being a complete asshole.” you add.

“Yeah and she snuck a twenty dollar bill to my pocket. Gosh…sometimes old people are truly the best.”

You hum in agreement and wipe your hands with a napkin. Since there were only five minutes left till lunch is over the two of you start packing up your things and head over to the break room.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13

#kang sae byeok #kang sae byeok squid game #kang sae byeok x reader #kang sae byeok x fem!reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #wlw #wlw fanfic

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loverslantern · 2 days ago

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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: To obtain a mystic gun capable of destroying the demon that killed their mother, the group must team up with John and face off against vampires.

Warnings: cannon violence and gore, John Winchester, arguing, girl kissing (not really a warning but), slightly jealous Dean??, reader being a nerd

Word Count: 8.5k

Dead Man's Blood

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Outfit Board)

The cafe is quiet except for the distant chatter of conversations that melt together, the clinks of glasses and dishes, the clacking of a keyboard, and the shuffling of paper. So, maybe quiet isn’t the right word. Nevertheless, the steady background noise is peaceful. It brings me back to the days when I’d linger in cafes to study for an upcoming exam in both high school and college. Though, I suppose, looking through various obituaries and news articles to find our next hunt isn’t that different. “Well, man,” Dean starts, folding his newspaper. “Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What’ve you got?”

I lean back in my seat, pushing away from the screen I’ve been looking out for God knows how long. “Nothing of note in Iowa, Kansas, or Missouri,” I announce, noting some of the states surrounding Nebraska. The various tabs open for each state are a little concerning. “Unless you count a woman in Iowa who managed to fall 10,000 feet from an airplane and survive.”

“Sounds more like ‘That’s Incredible’ than, uh, ‘Twilight Zone,’” Dean remarks.

“Yeah definitely weird but not that concerning,” I nod. It surely reeked of the supernatural because there was no human way to do that, but it also wasn’t a top-of-the-list concern when no one got hurt and it seemed like an isolated event.

“Hey, Sam, you know we could keep heading East. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh?” Dean suggests, smirking as he leans his elbows on the table. “Cool chick man, smokin’” he whistles. I shake my head, mentally grimacing. Yeah, she was attractive but to say it aloud and whistle about some girl your brother was clearly into? A little weird. “You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?”

“Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday,” he answers vaguely. “But in the meantime, we got a lot of work to do Dean, and you know that.”

“Yeah, alright,” Dean gives in.

“You get anything in the states you checked?” I ask Sam, knowing he had looked at Wyoming, Colorado, and South Dakota. More states that surround the state we currently reside in. “Yeah,” he exhales. “Uh, a man in Colorado. A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home.”

“That’s certainly one way to go,” I mumble.

“Elkins?” Dean echos. “I know that name.”

“You do?” I ask.

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Sam shakes his head.”Sounds like the police don’t know what to think,” he continues as his brother mumbles Elkins under his breath and pulls out their Dad’s journal. “At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they’ve found some signs of robbery.”

“You know, sometimes it amazes me how the police solve anything,” I remark. Sure, if it’s supernatural related then they don’t have the upper hand of knowledge but seriously a bear attack and a robbery are two completely different things.

Dean hums absentmindedly in acknowledgment, flicking through the journal. “There, check it out,” he announces, flipping the book around for us to see. A phone number resides on the page right next to the name. “You think it’s the same Elkins?” Sam asks.

“It’s a Colorado area code,” Dean points out.

****

Sam kneels on the wooden porch, the flashlight illuminating his work with the lockpick. It’s not too long before the lock clicks, and the door creeps open with a turn and push.

“Looks like the maid didn’t come today,” Dean comments, looking over a table cluttered with books and papers. Otherwise, this room was pretty clean at least in terms of the crime. “Hey, there’s salt over here. Right beside the door,” Sam announces, lingering by the front door.

“You mean protection against demon salt or, ‘oops I spilled the popcorn’ salt?” Dean asks, his interest tuned into a journal he discovered on the desk.

My flashlight guides my eyes across the room. It didn’t happen in this room, it doesn’t seem like the perpetrator(s) came from the front door into the entryway. “It’s clearly a ring,” Sam clarifies. “You think this guy Elkins was a player?”

“Definitely,” he answers. I wander a little further into the house, the real mess lying in the next room over, the door knocked off its hinges. “That looks a hell of a lot like Dad’s,” Sam says. I look over my shoulder, and both boys are checking out the journal. “Yep, except this dates back to the 60s,” Dean responds.

I step into what looks to be an office, or what’s left of it. It’s pure destruction. If you told me a tornado came through this room I’d believe you. Broken and overturned furniture litter the floor, books and papers scattered about. I can barely see the floor, it's all covered. “Whoever this guy was, he put up a hell of a fight,” I comment as I carefully step further into the room, glass crunching beneath my shoe. Glass but no broken windows. “Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one,” Sam adds, looking up at the ceiling. I follow his gaze to the broken sunroof, the source of the glass.

Where did the police get a bear attack from even if he did have scratch marks on him? Did they think it fell into the sunroof? I could understand the robbery considering the mess, but a bear? Seriously? I shake my head at the thought, walking over to the cleared-off desk. Whatever was atop it was on the floor now. “Do you think whoever or whatever did this was looking for something?” I ask, taking in the mess again. Some of it was from fighting, but the desk's open draws, which were barely hanging on, suggests it may be more. It could be an added motive. “Maybe,” Sam answers before his attention turns over to his brother who is crouched down and examining the floor. “You got something?” Sam asks.

“I dunno,” he answers. “Some scratches on the floor.”

“Death throes maybe?” Sam suggests, referring to the last moments before the end.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dean says, grabbing a nearby notebook. He opens a page, placing it over the scratches before using a pencil to scratch over it revealing the marks better. “Or maybe a message.” He peels up the paper, some blood soaked into the back, but the markings are clear. “Look familiar?” He asks, holding it up.

“Three letters, six digits,” Sam answers. “The location and combination of a post office box. It’s a mail drop.” The message was an incredible feat to manage before death took him under. To be able to scatch it out…it must be more than important.

“Just the way Dad does it,” Dean adds.

****

A simple letter rests in Sam’s hand. The letter was found in the post office box. “‘J.W.’” Sam reads off the envelope, “You think that's John Winchester?”

“I mean your Dad clearly knew the guy,” I offer, his number is inside the journal. “Maybe he even learned this way of communicating from him.”

“Should we open it?” Dean asks, something uncertain yet insistent in his voice. But, no one gets to answer the question on each of our minds when, instead, there is a knock on the driver-side window. Dean gasps and flinches, his arm raised in defense. “Dad?” he breathes, his fist lowering. The door beside me opens then, hazel eyes looking at me expectantly. I raise my eyebrows with a tight-lipped smile as I scooch over. He takes my seat, closing the door behind him. “Dad, what are you doing here?” Sam asks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answers simply. He looks the same as the last time we saw him, with messy dark hair similar to Sam’s cut and a ragged beard. “I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place.”

“Why didn’t you come in Dad?” Sam questions, his voice soft as if he knows the answer.

“You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren’t followed…by anyone or anything,” John responds. He sounds more paranoid than anything. It sounds like a sad excuse to avoid speaking and seeing his kids again, but I keep those thoughts to myself. “Nice job of covering your tracks by the way,” he compliments. And it’s like being buttered up before the roast— before you’re put right back on the fire that eats at you until you forget your self-worth.

“Yeah, well, we learned from the best,” Dean answers with a proud smile on his face as his chest puffs out a little bit.

“Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?” Sam points out.

“Yeah. He was... he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting,” he reveals. I guess I was somewhat right on my assumption. “Well, you never mentioned him to us,” Sam shrugs.

“We had a... we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years,” he explains, gesturing towards the envelope. “I should look at that.” Sam hands it over easily, and his father wastes no time in opening it. “'If you're reading this, I'm already dead',” he reads, trailing off. “That son of a bitch.”

“What is it?” Dean asks.

“He had it the whole time,” he answers vaguely as if we know what he's talking about. “Has what?” I ask. “When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?” He asks each question one right after the other almost frantically. “Uh, there was, there was an old case but it was empty,” Dean answers.

“They have it,” John announces.

“‘You mean whatever killed Elkins?” Dean asks. John opens the door, shifting to get out. “We gotta pick up the trail.” But before he can make it out of the vehicle Sam stops him, “Wait. ‘You want us to come with you?”

“If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun,” he explains, doing that thing where he’s insanely unhelpful.

“The gun–why?” Sam pushes. “Because it's important, that's why,” he replies. I roll my eyes, for a guy who wasn’t very present he managed to be incredibly irritating. “Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet,” Sam reasons.

“They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires,” he reveals, finally being helpful. “Vampires? I thought there was no such thing,” Dean answers.

“You didn’t?” I ask, surprised.

“You did?” He throws right back with a just as surprised tone as mine.

“Yeah,” I say like it's obvious. “I took down a nest back in college.” It was the first and only time I had encountered a vampire let alone a vampiric hunt. Students started to go missing, seemingly picked off one by one, and like any school word had spread quickly. It was weird, yes, but with no bodies and only having gossip I had nothing to work with. No one saw anything, the picks were clean and concise. Well, that was until certain bodies did show up. Four out of nine bodies were found, two were located near or around campus grounds, and the others were left in the town that was a short drive from the school. I managed to pull some strings and cash in ‘I owe you’ to see the bodies firsthand. My initial thought was vampires but the thought was more of a joke than anything, I thought I was watching too much Buffy. But then some research made a joke no longer a joke. It was vampires and I had to kill them.

I can remember it still, the way the heads went flying and how blood caked my clothes. Buffy makes it look cleaner than what it is.

“You did?” John asks, his voice dripping in disbelief and sass. “Don’t sound so surprised,” I mumble, my distaste for him almost painfully clear in the curl of my lip. He has been here for less than five minutes and I’m already a little irritated. I’d like to think that I’m not a hateful person, that I don’t hold grudges or malice but when it comes to John Winchester suddenly I’m the biggest hater you’ve ever seen. “Well, I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and—“ he throws a glare at me. “And others had wiped them out. I was wrong.” “You were,” I agree, smiling a little at the slow turn of his head as he stares at me with daggers.

“Most vampire lore is crap,” he starts, his voice gruff, looking back at his boys. “A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late.”

“The way to kill them is decapitation,” I add. “Interestingly enough the story to get it right is a work of fiction, though, of course, you could argue that it was only presented that way and the author knew more than any normal person would. The final blow in Carmilla, written by some Irish guy, is her head being struck off. Before that was a stake through the heart but, it’s interesting that he would add the decapitation aspect especially when it’s the first ever Vampire novel so it’s not like he changed things to be different.”

“Are you done?” John remarks, unamused.

“Yeah, now I am,” I respond, equally unamused with him.

“Wake up! Come on,” a voice demands. I grumble something incoherent, my fingers softly curling into the warmth beneath my hand. The something beneath my hand rumbles with the “Mm-hmm,” that follows from its lips.

My eyes squint open, my hand resting on Dean's chest, fingers clutching his shirt, his arm resting around my waist. We didn’t fall asleep like this when John hated the very idea of us sharing a bed even though we’d done it before. I know John doesn’t trust me, even though I haven’t done anything to warrant such feelings. It’s more like he doesn’t trust who I am and he makes it known with every look and side comment. Yet, as much as he hated it, he didn’t want me in a separate room because it would “waste time and money.” So, we had slept back to back which felt so horribly unnatural.

I do not make a move to separate from him. He rubs his eyes and I want to bury my face into the pillow in a desperate attempt to grasp onto the remains of sleep but the sight of his messy short hair going every which way, and his eyes barely being held open from the sleep that clings to them keeps my attention. Even on interrupted sleep, he looks so good. “I picked up a police call,” John announces, the faint noise of radio static proving his statement.

“What happened?” Sam asks, his voice laced with sleep. Dean’s hand drops from his eyes going, instead, to my hand on his chest. He gives it a little squeeze and it would be so easy to just fall back into a sweet sleep with the butterflies that dance in my stomach. But, the harsh reality of, well, reality comes crashing back when John answers, “A couple called 911, ‘found a body in the street. Cops got there. Blood was missing. It's the vampires.”

“How do you know?” Sam asks logically. But, John is already halfway out the door forgoing explanations as he typically does. “Just follow me, okay?” he responds, shutting the door behind him.

“Huh, vampires,” Dean muses, his eyes still half open. “Gets funnier every time I hear it.”

****

The spin of red and blue lights shatters the atmosphere, a long cloth placed over a body in the middle of the road, yellow tape sanctioning off the area as cops work the scene, and a certain irritating Winchester talking to a cop as we are forced to wait by the Impala like kids waiting while their parent talks to an old friend and you just know you’re going to be waiting forever. “I don’t see why we couldn’t have gone over with him,” Sam complains, sulking slightly.

“Should’ve let us sleep,” I agree, mumbling. I don’t see the point in dragging us from bed just to put us on the back burner, but I guess that’s John for you.

“Oh, don’t tell me it’s already starting,” Dean responds. “What's starting?” he asks. But he doesn’t get his answer as their father approaches, Dean putting his focus there. “What have you got?” he asks his Dad.

“It was them alright,” John confirms. “Looks like they’re heading west. We’ll have to double back to get around that detour.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam asks, arms crossed.

“Sam…” Dean warns.

“I just wanna know we're going in the right direction,” he snaps at his brother.

“We are,” John answers vaguely.

“How do you know?”

John hands something small to Dean, answering with “I found this.”

Dean cups the long and sharp tooth in the palm of his hand. “It’s a…” he tries to find the words, “a vampire fang.”

“It’s not necessarily a fang,” I correct. “An entire set of teeth that look just like that descends when they attack, covering the normal set of teeth.”

“Any more questions?” John asks, looking at Sam expectantly, a certain bite to his words. Sam remains quiet, his eyes flicking away—the kind of answer his father wants. No, an answer he expects. “Alright, let’s get out of here, we’re losing daylight,” John orders. He walks to his truck, a vehicle I suddenly love because he doesn’t have to be in the same car as us. “Hey, Dean why don’t you touch up your car before you get rust?” he throws back the comment, “I wouldn’t have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it.”

I look at Dean with widened eyes. His face drops. Drops. My heart might as well drop with it. I dig my nails into my palms in an attempt to control my mouth, my teeth clenched painfully to hold in my own comment. I should make him apologize. I should do more than that but I know it will only make it worse for them and that is the last thing I want. Yet, saying nothing feels worse so the word slips out before I can reel it back in. “Asshole,” I grumble beneath my breath, opening the back door to the Impala.

“What’d you say?” John asks, seemingly having super hearing, pausing short of his truck. The stiffness in his shoulder is familiar, or similar. So, I duck into the car with an, “I didn’t say anything.” I expect him to say something or for him to make some sort of move. I see the unamused look on his face even as I close the door behind me, creating a barrier between us. I half expect him to drag me from the car and make me answer him. Dad said I never knew how to hold my tongue or when to stop. And maybe he was right.

*****

The Impala rolls down the road, following John’s truck. “Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten,” Dean reads from the passenger seat. “Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks. I wonder if that’s what happened to that 911 couple.”

“I didn’t see the corpses well enough but it’s likely,” I answer, though I don’t know why John didn’t let us see the body or do any work.

“It’s probably what Dad's thinking. ‘Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks,” Sam grumbles, a certain furrow to his brow. “So it is starting,” Dean remarks.

“What?”

Well, this is my queue to keep my comments to myself and let them talk this out.

“Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year,” he explains. “Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?”

“Hm. No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, alright?” he responds. “And I'm happy that we're all working together again.” “Well good.”

“It’s just the way he treats us like we’re children,” Sam adds, seemingly unable to help himself. But I’m here for the John bashing.

“Oh God,” Dean mumbles.

“He barks orders at us Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal.”

Sam’s not wrong. His vagueness is one of his worst traits which is saying something because he has a long list of horrible traits. He’s really the King of being as vague and unhelpful as possible for a reason I simply can’t discern. Maybe it makes him feel like he has some power or the upper hand.

“He does what he does for a reason,” Dean reasons. “What reason?” Sam pushes.

“Our job!” Dean snaps. “There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, alright? That's just the way the old man runs things.” “I’d argue that leaving you guys in the dark can lead to more error,” I comment, accidentally saying my inside thoughts out loud. Luckily, I’m pretty much annoyed as Sam challenges his brother. “Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, alright. Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?”

A heavy silence fills the car as Dean stares at his brother like he’s trying to muster the right words. “If that’s what it takes.”

****

We drive for what feels like an eternity, though it must only have been a couple of hours, the sky falling to darkness. Dean is on the phone with his father, keeping in touch with him even as we follow after his car. “Yeah, Dad. Alright, got it,” he answers before hanging up. “Pull off at the next exit.”

“Why?” Sam asks with a certain edge or bite to his voice.

“Cause Dad thinks we’ve got the vampire’s trail,” Dean responds.

“How?”

“I don’t know; he didn’t say.”

Suddenly I’m pushed back into my seat as the Impala goes faster, fast enough to overtake Johns truck. The car swerves in front of it, my body jerking sideways and forward as the vehicle swerves again and slams to a stop. My heart stammers in my chest as I look out the window, John's truck nearly missing the side of the Impala. “What the frick, S–” I yell, my cursing cut off as Sam gets out of the car. “Oh crap here we go,” Dean mumbles, following him out of the vehicle. I sigh, rolling my eyes, as much as I expected an argument to break out this is a very dramatic and dangerous way to start it. Even so, I follow them out of the Impala as Dean calls out for his brother.

“What the hell was that?” John yells, stomping over to his son.

“We need to talk.”

John steps closer, getting face to face with him and I half expect him to grab Sam by the collar and shake some “sense” into him. “About what?”

“About everything. Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?”

“Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires,” Dean says.

“You’re brothers right, we don’t have time for this,” John adds. “Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue, you need our help,” Sam yells. “Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!” “Get back in the car.” “No.” “I said get back in the damn car.” “Yeah. And I said no.”

“Okay, you made your point tough guy,” Dean tries again, hovering between his father and his brother. But, of course, his words are directed at his brother. “Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on.” Dean grabs him, pushing him back toward the car. He gives in, allowing his brother to move him along even as he glares at his father, mumbling, “This is why I left in the first place.” “What’d you say?”

Sam steps forward, snapping back, “You heard me.”

“Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam.”

��“Sam…” Dean warns.

“You walked away!” John yells in his face.

“Come on, stop,” I urge, trying to push John back as Dean had tried with his brother. But he just shoves me off, forcing me back a couple of steps. “You're the one who said don't come back Dad, you closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!”

Dean jumps in the middle, forcing them apart. “Listen, stop it, stop it. Stop it!! That's enough!!” They don’t say another word; they just glare at each other over Dean’s head. “That means you too,” Dean adds, looking at his father. Despite the harsh words that linger in the air and the unspoken jabs that are begging to be said, they back off. Each step back into their vehicles. Dean sighs, the tension clear in his shoulders until he turns to me, brows furrowed as he half yells, “Are you okay?” The question is genuine despite how harsh they sound escaping his lips. There's a silence that falls between us; I don’t know why he asks me; it’s not like I was the one arguing. Perhaps it was because I stumbled back as his father shoved me or because he knows I do not like arguments. Either way, I nod silently, and he gives a single nod back, the stress soon returning to his face.

With the sun on our back and the tree line at our front, blocking us, I watch a beat-up Camaro pull up the old barn. A man in a t-shirt walks up to the car, shielding his eyes as he escorts the person inside and making a very good guess it’s likely they’re both vampires. “Son of a bitch,” Dean curses. “So they’re really not afraid of the sun?”

“Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill ‘em is by beheading,” John answers and I roll my eyes at the repetition especially when half the information is something I already said. “And yeah, they sleep during the day—doesn’t mean they won’t wake up.”

“So I guess walking right in’s not our best option,” Dean remarks.

“Actually, that’s the plan,” John answers, immediately creeping from the treeline back to where the Impala and his truck are parked.

Weapons are handed out like candy on Halloween night, the machete's blade seeming to gleam as the sun hits it just right. Grasping the hilt reminds me of that day long ago, how my hand shook as I killed the first vampire. They look human, and the blood that falls is so human that it’s like killing one instead of a vampire. I had to remind myself they weren’t human and that they killed so many. Then, it was almost too easy.

“So, you really wanna know about this Colt?” John suddenly asks. “Yes sir,” Sam answers.

It's just “a story, a legend really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter,” he starts. “Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. ‘Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say... they say this gun can kill anything.”

Something unsettling settles in my gut, something I don’t want to discern. We aren’t in the nest, and yet it’s like the fight-or-flight instinct has kicked in. “Kill anything like supernatural anything?” Dean asks. The same thought eats at my mind but where concern hits me surprise hits him.

“Like the demon,” Sam connects, and I feel foolish. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, or maybe it’s selfishness that makes me worry more about a weapon that can kill me rather than a gun that can kill the yellow-eyed demon. I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of dying, at least not totally, especially when what I am makes it incredibly difficult to kill me, to begin with. But now I’m aware of something that can. It won’t be like a bullet wound you can maybe heal from; there won’t be hope—just death. Gone in the blink of an eye with no goodbye or warning.

“Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun -- we may have it,” John answers.

I want to be happy for them. I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying to push the fear away because isn’t it an irrational one? But I am scared. What if I don’t get a goodbye? What if it winds up in the wrong hands and I’m at the other end of it? Technically, right now it is in the wrong hands if the vampires do have it. “No offense, I'm glad this is an opportunity to get the damn thing,” I start, my fear turning into anger. “But did you, oh, I don't know, plan on informing us about this before we go into the place that has this gun, or was it Sam that convinced you?” I’m not an idiot; I am aware of the possibility that this could’ve been left out for God knows how long. “I mean, this could literally kill me, like end-end me, and you were just gonna, what, not mention it? ‘Cause it would’ve been a great warning.”

He doesn’t answer, and I’m not sure if he’s going to acknowledge me, which is answer enough. I move to try to get in his way. “You know, somehow I find a new reason to dislike you, which is kind of impressive.” I know I’m being mean as if a jab could heal the panic in my veins.

“You should be grateful I haven’t sent your ass back home,” he bites.

“Yeah well, this ass saved your life back with the Daeva’s.”

“Y/N,” Dean says, carefully touching my arm. But I step out of his hold, my shoulders going up as if trying to un-feel the touch, which is weird because I never do that with him. “No, Dean, this is serious,” I reason, my voice higher in an attempt to be louder, though it never nears a yell. I don’t dare look at him, weary of the hurt that might pass over his face.

“Were you going to say something if Sam hadn’t called you out?” I ask him again. But, I’m sure I know the answer. He pauses for a beat too long, and I feel foolish again. I’m arguing with a guy who couldn’t care less about what happens to me. The anger simmers in my gut, bubbling down until it’s replaced by shame. “You know what? Never mind,” I give up. “Let’s just go kill the vampires.” I shake my head, walking away from the group towards the run-down barn.

I creep between the trees, careful of where I step so that I don’t make a sound, even though I’m outside the barn. I take a couple of deep breaths as I walk; I need to have a clear head. This isn’t the kind of hunt you can be careless on; one wrong move and it all goes up in flames. I clear my head of any leftover anger or negative emotions; I need to lead with focus, not emotions.

I move closer to the barn, finding a window that looks easy to get into without making so much noise. That is key. I lift myself onto the thin windowsill, cautious as to not let my legs or any body part slam into the wall. And with the knowledge that the boys are close behind, I move into the barn. I move silently, first observing the layout and the countless hammocks filled with vampires as well as the occasional vamp that rests on the floor.

Ever so slowly, I move forward, careful to step over the beer bottles as I move as quietly as a mouse. Inch by inch, I lurk towards a random vampire in a hammock. A lone vampire, or at least one that’s farthest away from the others, even if far isn’t far at all.

I stand over his sleeping figure like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. Ever so carefully, I lift my blade, hovering it above its neck. With one quick motion, I know I am a hypocrite. Blood drips down its neck in waves like a relentless ocean; its eyes shoot open as the blade is plunged deeper. Its mouth parts in an attempt at a screech it can’t possibly make as its head is severed from its body. It did not get to warn the others. It did not get to say goodbye.

I pull my blade from the mess; blood seeps into the fabric of the hammock and drips to the floor. I sense the Winchesters enter the barn as I pick my next target. The goal is to get as many asleep so that should they wake, it’d be a slightly easier fight. Again, I take my stance over a vampire when I hear the faint clink of a glass bottle knocking over. I hold incredibly still, so still, I feel like the narrator in “Tell-Tale Heart.”

By luck alone, the vampire beneath my gaze does not stir, nor do any others. I turn my head slowly to where the noise originated, seeing Dean and Sam at the other end of the barn near each other. I swallow roughly, focusing in on the task at hand. Again, I drive my blade into the pale neck of the resting creature, blood spraying onto my cheek. I move to the next, stalking forth with my raised blade when an unearthly roar breaks the silence. The vampire beneath my gaze shoots up, clutching my wrist before I can lay the blade onto it. The machete vanishes from my hand, appearing in my other. I swing the blade; the cut is uncoordinated and messy in my non-dominant hand, slashing off its hand. My wrist is free as the limb goes flying, a horrible screech coming from the vampire as it clutches its wrist, blood spurting from where the hand used to be, bone exposed to the air. Glass shatters somewhere overhead, and I switch the weapon back to my dominant hand, unable to get another swing in when I dodge the lunging vampire.

“Run!” John yells from the same direction as the broken glass. I sidestep just in time, narrowly avoiding a swing from a vampire lunging at me. More of them surge toward me, their snarls filling the air. Reluctantly, I turn and run. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound almost drowning out the thudding of their footsteps behind me. I race toward the back of the barn, but there’s no clear exit—just solid walls and shadows. I sprint toward one of the walls. My legs push forward harder, willing myself to pass through before I crash into it.

The world blurs for a heartbeat, and then I stumble forward, my feet skidding on the dirt outside. I glance back, breathless, at the wall I just passed through. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips, I’m getting really good at the whole teleporting thing. But enough celebrating, I quickly round the outskirts of the barn and make my way up the hill to where the distinct figures of the Winchesters wait. A look of relief passes over Sam and Deans face at the sight of me but I can’t say the same for John. I know he doesn’t care if I get injured or die.

“They won't follow. They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life,” John informs, slightly out of breath. “Well, what the hell do we do now?” Dean asks.

I wipe the blood from my cheek with the back of my sleeve, glad that I decided to wear dark clothes today. “I’ll go back in there and finish it,” I answer.

“No, you’re not,” Dean declares, taking a single step toward me.

“Why not?” I ask. “I already killed two and—”

“You did?” John cuts me off, reflecting the same surprise he did before.

“No, my machete is just normally covered in blood.”

“You’re not goin’ back in,” Dean says firmly.

“Dean—”

“Not on my watch.” “Oh, come on. This is quicker than waiting until night and you can have your special gun sooner,” I reason, following him as he walks away.

“Not happening.”

“Don’t you want that gun?”

He stops short of the Impala's trunk, his expression firm as he faces me. “Not at the expense of your life.” His eyes are set on mine, a challenge burning behind his irises.

“I’m very capable of doing it myself,” I argue, my chin raised to meet his gaze head-on.

“I know you are,” he replies, his voice low and sure. “‘Doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you go.”

“I don’t have to listen to you, you know,” I point out, the words sounding childish on my tongue. His brow arches, the faintest flicker of amusement crossing his face. He wets his lips, voice dropping lower, “I don’t see you goin’.”

The words hang heavy between us. He’s got me, and he knows it. I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming in my throat. His eyes drop briefly, flicking to the small space between us like he’s daring me to move. He tilts his head slightly, waiting, his confidence annoyingly attractive. His fingers brush my wrist, featherlight, trailing down the inside. It tickles my skin, my breath hitching slightly, loosening my hold on the machete. He doesn’t rush—his hand glides lower, steady, until he slides the weapon from my grasp as if he already knew my answer before I had the chance to utter it.

“We’ll need dead man’s blood,” I manage, my voice quieter than I intended. His eyes flick back to mine, dark and unreadable, the weapon now clasped firmly in his hand alongside his own. He nods, his lips parted slightly.

****

After splitting up from John and Sam—and some lying and distracting on our part— Dean and I managed to grab the dead man's blood from the local funeral home. Afterward, it took some extensive convincing, including arguing that it would be safer for me to act as bait instead of Dean to be where I am now.

Now, I lean over the car’s popped hood, peering at the engine while the Winchesters watch from somewhere in the trees. “Car trouble?” a woman's voice asks. I turn around to see a dark-haired woman with thin eyebrows and striking blue eyes standing with another girl lingering behind. It didn’t take them long to show up. “Let me give you a lift. I’ll take you back to my place,” she purrs.

I lean against the front of the Impala, tilting my head slightly as I eye her. “I’m sure you’d like that,” I respond, biting my bottom lip, purposefully teasing. She steps closer as expected, so close I can smell the lingering metallic scent of blood on her mouth as well as her strong perfume. She grabs my jaw roughly, her fingertips digging in as she holds my face firmly, forcing my head back an inch so that she can use our small height difference to her advantage. I let her do what she wants, I’m not afraid of her or the other vampire. I’m just here to get her close enough for a good shot. “Would you like that?” she asks, spinning my question.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not Buffy and you’re not Spike,” I smile teasingly.

Her smile deepens, turning a little wicked. “You know, I should kill you for what you did to them.”

And I know she’s talking about the two I killed and the third I hurt. “Will you?” I challenge. I’m sure she won’t, at least not now. They like to play with their food. So, just as expected her eyes trace down my face, the collum of my neck, and dip beneath my shirt. “We could have some fun first,” she answers, eyes tracing back up.

Her head tilts down, her hold on my face tightening as her lips brush mine. Her hand slips to the back of my head, grabbing a handful of hair and tugging. My lips part in a groan, my head harshly bent back, giving her the chance to crash her lips to mine. She kisses me roughly and fast, all teeth and tongue before pulling away and licking her lips as if savoring the taste. “Heard you had a boyfriend,” I remark. “You think he’d mind you–” She cuts me off with her lips, teeth clashing with mine. My hands grasp the Impala behind me, the cold metal digging into my palms contrasting with the heat of her mouth.

She gasps, an almost choking noise as she pulls away and I know the shot has been taken. My eyes fall to her chest, the arrowhead sticking out. “Dammit,” she curses. The Winchesters emerge from the trees, crossbows in hand and unreadable expressions on their faces. Her hands fall from my face as she steps back, my chest heaving a little as I try to catch my breath. “It barely even stings,” she claims.

“Give it time, sweetheart,” John answers. “That arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood. It’s like poison to you, isn’t it?”

Real surprise passes over her features, a hand coming up to cradle where she’s been hit as she staggers backward, wavering before she collapses to the asphalt. “Load her up,” John directs, moving to the other vampire who’s also on the floor with an arrow through her. “I’ll take care of this one.”

I turn around, shutting the hood of the car just as I hear the familiar squelch of blood.

****

The campfire burns bright in the middle of the small clearing of woods. She's still unconscious, secured with a rope around her that she could tear easily the moment she awakens. “Toss this on the fire. Saffron, skunk's cabbage, and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready,” John orders as he walks back into the clearing with his eldest son in tow.

Dean sniffs the bag contents and coughs, “Stuff stinks!”

“That’s the point. It has to be strong enough to cover your scent,” I smile while simultaneously feeling bad for finding his reaction to the ingredients funny. “You can dust your clothes with the ashes and they, hopefully, won't be able to detect you.” I move to him, willing to take the bag from his grimacing face.

“‘You sure they’ll come after ‘er?” Sam asks as I carefully separate and dump the ingredients into the fire.

“Yeah,” John answers. “Vampires mate for life—”

“Didn’t seem she cared about that with Y/N” Dean remarks, cutting off his father. I give him a pointed look. And he just responds with, “What? She was the one who looked real into you.” There's a certain edge to his voice that I can’t quite discern, something almost snarky.

“Well, one thing interpretations got right about vampires is how inherently sexual they are,” I explain. “I’m not sure why but I guess it makes sense considering how they take the blood is intimate.” Still, Dean doesn’t seem particularly satisfied with that answer.

“She means more to the leader than the gun,” John continues. “But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time.” “A half-hour oughta do it,” Sam answers. “And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can,” John orders.

“But…”

“Well, Dad you can’t take care of them all yourself,” Dean cuts his brother off.

“I'll have her and the Colt,” John reasons.

“That’s hardly a lot of protection,” I point out.

“And if I remember you wanted to go in with less,” he bites back.

“I also have abilities that you don’t. I can stay with you, ‘make sure you get it safely.”

“‘Don’t need your protection,” he answers. I figure ego has some part of his decision so I drop it, if he doesn’t want backup then he doesn’t want it.

“But after. We're gonna meet up, right?” Sam asks. “Use the gun together. Right?” There's a long pause, the question hanging in the air for one too many seconds. “You're leaving again, aren't you? You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like children,” Sam answers firmly. “You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe,” he reasons. I bite back my comment about how ironic that is coming from him as I walk a couple of steps away. “Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap,” Dean says, all heads snapping to him. “Excuse me?”

I half expect him to back off, instead, he doubles down. “You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe.” “It's not the same thing, Dean.” “Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?” “This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive.” “You mean you can't be as reckless.”

“Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece.” The atmosphere seems to change, becoming a little heavier in the wake of his words. “Your mother's death ... it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too. I won't.”

I’m sure there is some truth to his words but at the same time, he's been a horrible father to them, leaving them alone as mere kids to fend for themselves, forcing them into the hunting world at a young age, and even bringing them on hunts when they should’ve been worrying about school not their lives. “What happens if you die?” Dean points out. “Dad, what happens if you die, and we coulda done something about it? You know I’ve been thinking. I ...think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together.”

Sam nods.

“We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it,” Dean argues. It may sound cheesy but it holds merit. “We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order.” His answer is unsurprising and yet the way Dean looks down and the way Sam clenches his jaw makes me want to deck John Winchester until he agrees.

****

We quickly follow after John, having already killed the vampires in the barn and freed the container of people they had. Of course, it’s against what we were directed to do but we aren’t exactly known for following rules, so there's that. We ditched the Impala some ways back, sticking to the trees with our crossbows as we approached John's truck and the group of vampires.

We arrive in time to see John get knocked to the ground, his plan going south immediately. He’s backhanded into the door of his truck just as one of many arrows flies through the air, hitting the other vampires that crowd around. We emerge from the trees and I switch my crossbow to my off-hand to unseathe my machete. I easily walk up to one and in one clean motion send their head flying, the body buckling to the floor.

Quickly I turn, my crossbow raised to shoot a vampire that was creeping up on Dean. “Don't!” someone yells. I pause, eyes landing on a vampire who looks like a rock band reject with his arm around Sam’s neck while Dean tries to lurk forward with a machete. “I'll break his neck. Put the blade down,” the man orders. Everything stands still for a moment as I drop both my weapons. Dean, however, pauses until the man tightens his hold on Sam’s neck and then the machete is dropped to the ground with a clink.

Suddenly, the man’s arm is forced from Sam’s neck. It shakes as it's pulled away by an invisible force, his face contorting with confusion as he loses the ability to control his limbs. My head tilts slightly as I control him, forcing his other arm to remain at its side so that Sam is free to stumble away, his brother immediately dragging him behind him. The knees of the man buckle, forcing him to kneel on the asphalt. “You people. Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do,” the man cries and I falter.

I falter. The one thing you’re never supposed to do in a fight. But, it doesn’t matter because his head is cleaned off his body before he can get up. John standing behind him, blood dripping from his machete. “Lutherrrr!!!!” the girl from before screams a horrible guttural scream that seems to reverberate in my ears. She’s dragged away by another vampire, fighting against their hold as she stares down John and her lover's body.

I stand over the little table in the motel room making sure I didn’t leave anything when John enters—the first we’ve seen him since last night. “So boys,” he starts immediately, the door closing behind him feeling like a death sentence.

“Yes sir,” Sam answers, both boys straightening out like soldiers.

“You ignored a direct order back there,” he starts.

“Yes sir,” Sam answers. “Yeah, but we saved your ass,” Dean intervenes, nervous looks thrown his way from Sam and I.

“You're right,” John, surprisingly, nods. “I am?”

“It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together.” “Yes sir,” they say in unison.

“And I guess you can be there too,” he adds, looking over at me.

(Next Chapter)

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atangledfate · 1 day ago

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She tried her best to get to known Duo, learning about his past and why he came to them in the first place. It didn't help that the lad was pretty jumpy and a bit timid. But in training he seemed to catch on real fast and, was always on point when she needed him. It had been a rough that first day but she'd come to rely on him somewhat. He was calmer then tangle and more personable then Whisper. Lanolin had really sort of taken to the kid, though she always felt he was hiding something. Everyone had there secrets right?

Walking through the library it really was a grand place. It reminded her so much of the archive at restoration only less work and more a place of learning. She could probably have gotten lost here for hours and not even realized. Though she was happy to find whisper in a corner with a stack of books she'd picked out. Though the two nearly missed her the way she could blend in even here was earie at times. The wolf watched the two pass by with an eye peeking open though didn't interrupt the two in there task.

" Well... whisper is where she said she'd be... not to surprising. Looks like she's found something of interest... let's check on Tangle... Honestly more worried about her then i am anyone else... "

================================================

Back in the Magic section Tangle gripped the big lizards hand Gentle knowing her Tail could easily CRUSH steel and bend titanium! The last thing she wanted to do was accidently hurt somebody! She was pretty good about controlling her strength though! her bright smile and up beat demeanor had always led her to easily making friends, and being a jot to be around. Like a ray of sunshine, people did seem to flock to her.

" Oh WoW second big royal type i've met! What are the odds..."

She rubbed the back of her neck a little surprised he'd wanna see her in action! though she guessed they were as curious about them as the other way around.

" Heh, You'd be the second Sensei i'd picked up in as many weeks! I'm sure Mighty wouldn't mind, he's always saying i should keep pushing my limits! But i wouldn't mind... Long as the boss sheep is ok with it..."

" Oh my tail? Eh well its pretty special! not even my brother can do what i can with mine! We mobians are sometimes born with gifts. Sonic got his speed, Lani can control sound! and i got a super stretchy tail! in retrospect... guess i got the weird power! "

============================================

Lanolin crossed her arms from here they could see Sedan and Tangle talking and, they seemed just fine. Though she did wonder who they were exactly. But by Tangle's body language she was enjoying the conversation. Which only left Duo missing, and that kind of worried her. Her hand on her chin as she looked across the magic section and back across the rest of the library. Yet before she could get to worried a gentle tap on her back made the sheep let out a cute BAA! in shock! causing both her hands to clamp over her mouth! well that was embarassing!

" AH! "

She whirled around to find Duo reeled back as if he'd done something wrong! clutching a book in front of him! how he managed to sneak up on them was a mystery, and yet there he was a history book on application of magic in every day life.

" ah---umm Ma'am... sorry you walked right past me, an i heard my name an--- ah are you ok? "

Reyna could see that, Duo seemed to have a steady head on his shoulders. Plus, there was the fact hopefully Whisper could help them as well.

"Hopefully he'll be alright then. I'll trust your stance on him." She says nodding. She doesn't see Tangle in fiction, but it's pretty close to magic. So she leads Lanolin down that way, figuring that the Lemur might have tried to head there instead. They would pass through the sections Whisper and Duo were in too, so it was a win win.

Sadan is impressed by the dexterity with the tail. Very few people have such skill, even if it's clear this isn't a normal tail by any means. He shakes it happily, very interested in this Lemur already.

"Sadan, Emperor of the Ancient Empire. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Tangle. If you seek a teacher, I'm sure I could find time to give you a lesson or two. I, for one, would like to see your own skill in action. Very few can use their tails with such dexterity after all." He introduces himself, admitting his admiration.

As they don't see Duo, Reyna feels confused. She was expecting Tangle to move, especially since fiction wouldn't offer as much insight as magic. However, she wasn't thinking Duo would be somewhere else.

"Huh. Where do you think Duo went?" She asks Lanolin. The sheep would know the cat better than her, so it'd be wise to ask.

#The Diamond Cutters #Lanolin #Duo #Tangle #Whisper #The Red Prince #Sadan #guide of rivelon #Reyna

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mirensiart · 9 hours ago

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I’m obsessed with the concept of hyrule warriors happening pre lu and like, sometimes in fics war and wind won’t recognize time at first but i think it’d be funnier if they immediately know. The rest of the chain are wondering why the captain and the old man cuddle all the time but, hell, he’s the hero of time, who knows. Wind joins in and, alright, he’s the youngest, maybe he just wants a hug, that’s understandable, it’d probably set the example and let the rest of the chain join in easier. The chain gets to be affectionate with each other, Time, Wars, and Wind get to cuddle again, win win.

Also tho, I think it’d be funny if at some point before Wind shows up they’re all telling stories and and siblings come up and to keep the mood good(ish) Time takes his turn and he’s just like “ah, my big brother, Tune. A hero, like all of us, a skilled warrior and a pirate on top of that. I miss him” and then has to explain oh he’s not dead it’s weird time travel shenanigans, that’s just kinda par for the course at this point, no guys it’s okay and launches into a happy anecdote about them playing music probably. And they all kinda hope he’ll also get to show up, if not for the promise of another great hero, but for Times sake, their old man deserves to see his big brother again. And the Wind/Tune reveal happens and everyone sits there nodding like yeah to be fair, time traveling pirate hero, probably should have put that together earlier (how do you tell your other brothers three of you fought a war together but it was idk like a couple years ago for one, like 20 for another, and a couple months ago for the other. Also two of you have different names now. Funniest answer I think might be don’t but not out of secrecy, they just didn’t realize they had to. Maybe the reveal is one of them fucking up on the names one too many times and someone bring it up kinda worried. (“Look, old man, it’s okay to miss him but Wind isn’t Tune” “what the fuck I literally am” “what” “I fought a war and this is the respect I get” “language” “not now Wars, what does he mean?”)

(Sorry this is so long, had a captain it’s Tuesday kinda Tuesday too, and I’m recovering with comfort)

YES I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

I especially love the Wind+Time shenanigans like maybe time acts like The Responsible Adult and The Dad around the others, but he's a lil shit and acts like An Annoying Younger Brother around Wind which is hilarious out of context cause they're the oldest+youngest lmao

I personally think it's very on brand for Time and Wind to just go with it and not explain cause it's hilarious seeing everyone's reactions, they convince Wars not to tell too via blackmail

Also I don't know if you saw this drawing I did of Time+Wind older/younger brother dynamic lol but yes I'm super obsessed with it too

#miry's ask box

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emsdevs · 20 hours ago

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No Matter the Distance

Noah and Mateo AU

a/n: This idea randomly came to me, and I had to get it out. I'm sorry in advance for any pain this may cause to any lovers of the twins. The next part will be happier! Also, I will be putting out the timeline soon (masterlist form), but for reference, this takes place when the boys are about three and a half.

masterlist | noah and mateo au masterlist

The boys had been extra quiet since Nico left with the team for a roadie this morning. Usually, they would have worked past the initial sadness by now, but their voices hadn’t gotten any louder like they usually would be. You decide to cut up some fruit with their sandwiches for lunch, knowing that seeing the mix of strawberries, blueberries, and bananas on their plates always gets them a little extra excited. When you finish, you call them into the kitchen and then watch as they pull themselves up onto the chairs that are still just a little too tall for them.

“Tank you, Mama,” Mateo tells you in a tone that usually only Noah would use when he’s feeling extra shy. Your worry increases after hearing his words and seeing the disheartened look on Noah’s face.

“Baby, is there something on your mind?” you question Mateo, the worry evident on your face.

“‘M fine, Mama,” he uses that same tone again, and even though you know he’s holding back, you decide not to push either of the boys on the subject. They eat their lunches quietly after that, not making much noise. When they finish, they whisper to you that they enjoyed their food before returning to their playroom, still rather silent.

You spend the rest of the cleaning and periodically checking on Noah and Mateo, trying to find an outlet to get the worry out. Soon, Nico called to check in, and though you didn’t want to worry him while he was away, you told him about the boys’ weird behavior.

“Ängeli, I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they just aren’t feeling well right now. You know Curtis’s kids got sick just a couple of days after they had that playdate with the boys,” Nico was quick to reassure you.

“You’re right, Neeks. I’m probably just overthinking. I just worry about them sometimes.”

“It’s fine, baby. Now, tell me about you. I wanna hear how my wife is doing.” You giggle before telling Nico about your day, the worry already gone from your mind. You talked to your husband for a while longer until you had to hang up to put the boys to bed. You helped them with their baths, helped them into their favorite jammies, and finally got them into their respective beds. You were sitting on the edge of Noah’s bed, getting ready to kiss his forehead and go tell Mateo goodnight in the same manner, when he asked a question that made your heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Mama? Does Papa still wuv us?” his voice is tiny, and it breaks you a little more. Mateo crawls into bed with his brother, clearly having the same thought.

“Of course he does, baby. Why would your Papa not love the two of you?” you’re fighting to hold back tears.

“He weaves us a wot,” Mateo shrugs his little shoulders, and he’s using that small, shy voice again.

“Oh, my sweet boys. Your Papa loves you both so so so much! It hurts him so much when he has to leave you both. You’re the lights of his life, both of us would be lost without you two, I promise. Please, don’t ever doubt that your Papa loves you. Or me, for that matter. We love you two more than either of you could ever imagine,” you’re crying at this point, but you don’t really care.

“You wuv us bigger than Juper?” Mateo was in a space phase, and just a few days ago learned that Jupiter was the biggest planet. Apparently, that was the biggest thing his little brain could think of.

“Yes, baby. Wayyyy bigger than Jupiter!” you drag out the word, reaching forward to tickle Mateo’s side. “And wayyyy bigger than a brachiosaurus!” you dragged out the word for Noah now, who was in a dinosaur phase, and began to tickle him as well.

“Otay, Mama!! No mo’ tickles!” it warmed your heart to hear Noah raise his voice a little.

“Yeah, Mama! No mo’ tickles!” Mateo was giggling too, finally using his normal tone of voice. Soon, they settled down for the night, so you went to get yourself ready for bed. As you did your night time routine, you couldn’t help but wonder how in the world you’d tell Nico. It would crush him to hear that the boys were worried he didn’t love them anymore. You both knew they wouldn’t handle his absence well, but neither of you thought it would ever get this bad. You decide against calling him tonight, deciding it would be best to tell him when he gets home tomorrow night, even though it will be pretty late. You go to sleep that night with tears streaming down your face.

You spend the next day trying to distract the boys from Nico’s absence. You take them to the park, take them to watch a movie, and even take them out for ice cream afterward. Is it great parenting? No probably not, but you can’t let them be sad anymore. You’re doing what you can to keep them in good spirits until Nico gets home. Eventually, you get the twins in bed, which goes much smoother than last night. You make yourself comfortable on the couch with a book, knowing you won’t be able to sleep until Nico arrives. It’s a little after 1:00 AM when he walks through the door, and you immediately stand up to hug him, trying to savor his happiness from coming home after a win while you can. After sharing a few kisses and talking about how you hate being apart, you know you have to tell Nico then, not wanting to hide it longer than you already have.

“I have to tell you something, but you can’t freak out right now okay?” you gently pull him toward the couch. You could see the nerves on his face, and the thought of telling him made you queasy.

“Ängeli, it can’t be that bad,” he lets out a nervous chuckle, knowing the last time he saw you this nervous was when you told him you were pregnant.

“So the boys… they um they missed you a lot while you were gone, but it was a little um a little more than usual,” you were stalling and you knew it.

“Okay… that’s not too bad? Did they say something I should be worried about? Did they act out? They’re usually on their best behavior for you?”

“They did say something,” you took a breath, knowing how much this would hurt your husband, “Nico, they asked me if you still loved them because you’re gone a lot.” The tears were flowing now, but you had no plans of trying to stop them, especially after seeing the tears about to fall from Nico’s eyes.

“They think I don’t love them?”

“No! At least, not anymore,” you cringe at your words. “I talked to them last night and told them we both love them very very much, and they seemed better today.”

“Oh my god. My sons think I hate them.”

“Nico, baby, they don’t think that. They’re just little. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you have to leave so often. I explained that you don’t have a choice and hate it as much as them, if not more, and they understood a little bit better. It’ll just take some time for them to get used to it again now that they’re older and can think for themselves.”

“How do I even begin to make it up to them? I’m leaving again in a week and a half,” he lets out a sadistic chuckle.

“Nico, they still love you. You know that, right? You’re their favorite person. They could never be mad at you for long.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t just mad, Ängeli. They think I don’t love them.”

“How about you go and get ready for bed, and then we can grab the boys and let them sleep with us tonight? Would that help?” Your grasping at straws trying to keep Nico from feeling so guilty.

“Okay,” his voice is almost as small as Mateo’s was the day before. You finally move from the couch, moving to your bedroom so Nico can do his night time routine. The second he finishes, he’s giving you a look and heading straight for the boys’ room. The two of you don’t even attempt to wake them up, just lifting them from their beds and carrying them to yours. That’s the first night the boys slept in your bed since they turned three.

Nico took the next day off, skipping practice even though you told him it wouldn’t hurt the boys. He spent the entire day bonding with the boys, making sure they knew he’d never stop loving them. They played games for hours in their playroom until you had to call them down for lunch. After some chicken nuggets, which the boys were very grateful for, they were off to to the backyard, running Nico to the bone. Honestly, this was probably more of a workout for him than practice would be. That night you could hear him reassuring the boys as he put them to bed, “Your Papa will always love you two. No matter how far apart we are or how many time I have to leave, my main goal is to always come home to you two. You’re my priority and my favorite part of my day. Papa loves you both so so much.” When he leaves their bedroom, you act like you didn’t hear anything and pretend not to notice the tear stains on his face.

The love fests and spoiling didn’t stop that day, though. While he was going to practice and games, he made sure every second he had free was spent with his boys. He even let them go watch practice one day and run around Prudential Center. They were ecstatic to watch him play again, and you knew that every doubt had left their mind by now. Unfortunately, you could tell it would take Nico a while to completely get over it, but just like everything else, you two would tackle that together.

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @puckmedude

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#em's writing #noah and mateo au #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nh13 #nhl #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils

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httydfics-and-tricks · 2 days ago

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NSFW ideas I had recently! I'm not a writer, so please bear with me. THE VERSIONS OF THE RIDERS ARE RTTE+ BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL ADULTS.

-Ryker loves pounding you until you're crying or unable to speak. He likes treating his men and women like fragile little things, and then he breaks them. Has you ride him until you're too tired, then he'll move you up and down himself. Sometimes he'll have you on your back and goes slow, but his thrusts are rough and deep even then.

Despite what some people think, he likes praising you. Running his hands over you while murmuring about how good you're taking him. Respectful and won't hurt you unless you wanna be knocked around a bit. Other than that, he's 100% praise.

-Viggo likes overstimulating you BAD. He's good with his hands so you'll get at least two orgasms before he actually decides to put his dick in you. He's one of the richest dragon hunters in the Archipelago, brothels are probably a thing, and he probably frequents them with Ryker.

So he's very good at finding the spots that have you shaking and screaming. He loves being in his tent with you and leaning back in his chair while you ride him. He doesn't like hurting you, sorry. He's very respectful when it comes to sex unless specifically asked. Praise 100%

-Johann (yk I had to include him) would have two different sides. Before his betrayal, If you're a dragon rider, he loves having you 'find' his trading ship in the middle of the seas and spend a good time with foreplay, but rushes into and gets a little carried away if it's a long trip. If we're talking about after his betrayal, he is very dominant, sorry not sorry.

Traitor Johann gets off on holding a knife to your throat to keep you more still while he's fucking you senseless. Obviously more praise before his betrayal, but after that it's all degrading. So Trader Johann is praise, and Traitor Johann is degrading.

-Krogan would be more vanilla in my opinion. He doesn't necessarily have time for it, in his opinion. But the man just gets stressed with Drago's expectations, and dealing with Hiccup. So when he does get a chance to, it's always him being the more controlling one. Really likes having you suck him off with his hand fisted in your hair. Favorite position for actual sex would be both of you on your sides, him behind you, and lifting one of your legs up. Not very vocal, but praise over degrading.

-If you thought Ruff n' Tuff were gonna be bad, Dagur outfreaks them more than anyone else. He's literally called Dagur the Deranged?? Hello? Very quick and rough pace. He does a weird mix of degradation and praise. "Good little whore" is his favorite thing to say to you, but there have been meaner things.

More into breeding than anyone else you could ever think of. He's like a fucking animal. Gets off on the smell and taste of you in any way. He'll bite you and break skin, then lick up the blood. Fucks several loads into you, and cums a lot anyway. So you're literally leaking by the time he's done. Degrading over Praise.

-Tuffnut would genuinely be a freak and willing to try basically anything and everything. You like something? Great, he'll try it and like it! He loves putting you into a mating press, he's into breeding for some reason. If you're a guy, he likes being the bottom and doggy. Very very vocal.

Like, oh my gods he won't shut the fuck up about how good you feel. "Oh, you feel amazing!" Bla bla bla. Yap yap yap. Does not whimper, but moans loud as hell. He gets goofy too. He loves making you laugh and smile, even if he's fucking you or you're fucking him. Praise > degrading 100%

-Ruffnut is just like her brother, if not worse. She's top, and very heavy power bottom. Even if you're male or female. Pull her hair, she likes that. Lick her too, she doesn't care. She's super into public sex and will risk everyone on Berk seeing and/or hearing you two go at it. Really into orgasm denial.

Sometimes she likes soft sex alone, mostly if she's in a bad mood. She just wants to hear her partner moan and sigh in her arms in their bed. She'll bury her face in your chest, man or woman. Degrading > praise.

-Snotlout would not be a top, but if he were to be one he'd be softer. He's not into anything super extreme but he gives head like a starved man who's having his first meal in weeks. He likes love-making more than just fucking, but sometimes he just really really wants careless sex.

Loves wrapping his arms around you and having you do the same to him, bonus points if you run your nails down his skin. Whimpers more than he moans, but does both. Really obsessed with your chest, man or woman, and likes suckling your nipples until they're swollen. PRAISE NO MATTER WHAAT!!

-Astrid is more vanilla, but she obviously has her likes. She definitely knows what she's doing for men and women. If you're a girl, she loves holding your hips and having you grind your clit against hers while you're on top. For men, she likes riding them decently hard. Genuinely not into anything too bad other than like, marking.

She likes being alone in a private place with you. Bed, forest, even a fucking cave. Definitely has a private spot she takes you to on the furthest point of Dragons Edge, and Berk. She doesn't like the risk of being caught despite being brave as Hel. NO DEGRADING WITH THIS WOMAN EVER!! It's all praise.

-Hiccup would definitely be a soft dom who loves seeing you pleased. Power bottom like your life depends on it guys and gals, he loves it. He usually likes missionary and having your foreheads pressed together.

Buddy boy doesn't like quickies at all. He doesn't really praise or degrade, but he'll tell he you he loves you wayy too much. Definitely vocal to at least some degree, just not overly loud. Every time, without fail, he'll hold at least one of your hands during sex. He loves being close to you in basically every way possible. Praise 100%

-Fishlegs is the only complete vanilla one among the group in my opinion. He's very soft and caring towards his partner. Does not like quickies, only love-making in your bed. Definitely has you on top all the time. He'll constantly ask if you're okay with what he's doing, check on you during sex, etc.

The times you two have long sessions there are water breaks, repositioning breaks, and just ones where he'll make sure you aren't overheating. He's genuinely so sweet, he would never do a singular thing you wouldn't like. He loves having your fingers tug on his hair or run through it. PRAISE ALL THE TIME EVERY TIME! HE LOVES GIVING AND RECEIVING.

#race to the edge #snotlout #viggo grimborn #hiccup haddock #tuffnut thorston #ruffnut thorston #fishlegs ingerman #ryker grimborn #krogan #astrid hofferson #httyd #18+ mdni #not safe for minors

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mars-ipan · 6 months ago

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it is so nuts trying to have a healthy relationship with food when your sibling is trying to be a gym bro

#marzi speaks #i’ve been working on doing the whole intuitive eating thing #bc i have issues with my appetite and i want to make sure i’m both keeping myself fed and healthy and not having to see food as a chore #and it’s working out for me! and i’m having a good time and i genuinely enjoy food #and my parents are happy with it bc it’s working out for me. i think my mom’s happy to see me try to keep a healthy mindset with food #bc she struggled with it for a long time and is just starting to figure out what works for her herself etc etc #but it gets SO weird with my brother sometimes #i’ll grab a snack or smth sugary or high carb or whatever and he’ll be like ‘damn that’s so unhealthy :/‘#and i’m like. no??? it’s got these nutrients??#and he’ll go ‘yeah but it’s junk food’ and i have to look at him and be like ‘no food is inherently better or worse than other food’#‘i eat these types of foods in moderation with more nutrient-dense foods as well. i’m doing fine’#and he’s always like ‘…..okay… i wouldn’t eat it though’ and i just look at him like. Alright king #it doesn’t bug me bc idgaf what he thinks but it DOES make me worry for him a little #he felt guilty for eating oreo cakesters today. he had 2 of the 3 in his pack n he was like ‘i feel bad for eating these :(‘#and i asked ‘well are you full? like do u feel sick? or???’#and he was like ‘no i just feel guilty’#and i had to remind him that he’s allowed to eat and enjoy them. and it’s fine and he doesn’t have to earn it #idk how well it stuck but he did finish it bc he wanted to finish it so. i dunno #he’s got some shit to work through. he’ll figure it out i’m sure

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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions.

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food."

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy.

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him.

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that."

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again.

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?)

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately."

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up.

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly.

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from.

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite.

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing.

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.”

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows.

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?”

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?”

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.”

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved.

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.”

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything?

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted.

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #older brother danny #first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him #this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class #it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a #cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next #its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water #it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance #how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling #backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna #have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact #imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine #danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the #'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al #so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne

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