#but then taking the L and taking 1 glance at the only other ghost hunting teen he can find

[reanimatedgh0ul]

considering val's journey w ghost hunting in re:animated au basically going from d.i.y girlie to gets recruited by a guy who has a grudge against his 14 yr old nephew now bc he realized he was a piece of shit and doesn't wanna be his mentee anymore so now you're basically his plan B

[k1ng0fn0b0dy]

Phasmophobia ❤

He/Him Pronouns

1400+ Words

Description: You plays Phasmophobia for the first time with Scott, Wilbur, and Jack. Wilbur teaches you how to play and then something extra. (WilburxReader)

A/N: This was at the start of me writing so it's like the only one in third person.

[Rest of the story under the cut]

Y/N spins leisurely, waiting for their computer to boot up. They hadn't been ready to stream today but Scott DM'ed them a few minutes ago and Y/N couldn't say no to their favorite cousin.

Opening discord, they shot Scott a quick message and then pulled up twitch on their second monitor. Y/N smiled as chat spammed "hello y/n!" as the 1-minute timer slowly ticked down

3

2

1

"Hello everyone!" Y/N exclaimed happily, giving a quick wave to the camera. "Today we're going to be streaming Phasmophobia with Scott, Jack Manifold, and Wilbur Soot."

They couldn't help but giggle as their chat flew by with excited proclamations. As usual, their lovely fans started spamming "Y/N CLOUT" and "Y/N SUPREMACY" until it was all theycould see. Laughing, Y/N started reading out donos and thanking subs.

They were in the middle of thanking a 5 gifted sub when Scott made a private DM group and started a call. Quickly joining, Y/N and Scott started their usual greeting.

"Scott!"

"Y/N!"

"Scott!!"

"Y/N!!"

"Scott!!!"

"Y/N!!!"

"Wilbur," A deep voice joined in. A startled laugh leaves them, making Scott and Wilbur join in.

"Ayup fellas." Jack Manifold startles Y/N again, his voice louder than either of their friend's voices. It's impossible to keep a straight face as they devolve into just the word "ayup".

When Y/N finally manages to load into the game, their characters face to face with Wilbur's. "Hello, Wil."

"Hello, Y/N," he says back, not moving. They keep stock still, looking straight into the camera like they assume Wilbur's doing. Actually, they pull up his stream on mute and barely manage to hide a grin when they realize he is. Taking a quick glance at his chat, Y/N can't help but giggle.

"BLUSHBUR"

"AWW WILBY IS RED"

"BLUSHBUR"

"I still prefer chadbur"

Wilbur breaks out into a giggle too, brushing his hair away from his eyes. It's odd being in proximity chat, but it's still funny to hear the distant noise of Scott and Jack arguing.

"Are you going to move?"

"Are you?"

Rolling their eyes, Y/N smiles as they move over to Jack, who's trying to throw the basketball at Scott. They devolve into "ayup" again as soon as Wilbur starts trying to talk to Scott.

Y/N shoots their webcam a quick grin and move towards the whiteboard where Scott's checking his items. With a totally innocent voice, they start bringing up last week's family party. (don't worry, covid doesn't exist in these au's unless I say so

"So, baby cousin, have you been drinking recently?”

"Oh no," he groans, instantly realizing his mistake in inviting Y/N.

"I mean, last week you were absolutely hammered and so I'm just worried." They coo, amping up their innocent tone until it sounds like they're speaking to a child. "Come on, sugar pea, tell your older cousin all your darkest secrets that I totally won't use for blackmail."

"Are you blackmailing Scott, Y/T/N?" Wilbur surprises you, his deep voice highly amused but also right next to you. They spin your avatar around, face to face, again, with Wilbur's.

They click their tongue, sighing dramatically. "I suppose I was trying to blackmail him until you came over, Wilbur Soot."

Glancing over at his stream, Y/N spots him grin mischievously at the camera. With a heavy voice, he utters four words that turn them bright red."Was I too distracting?"

"You're such a dick." They laugh.

"That's Scott's cousin you're flirting with," Jack Manifold cuts in with a mocking jeer. Y/N gratefully exit the situation and start setting up their items instead.

They can practically hear the mock annoyance in Scott's voice when they go back to bothering him. He loves Y/N though, despite the teasing.

{...}

Y/N realized after they arrived at the house that they've never played the game before.

"Scott," They start, putting their head in their hands. "How do you play?"

"Do you not know how?" Wilbur said incredulously. Jack was picking up stuff off the carts, crouching down by pressing buttons Y/N didn't know.

Y/N flushed, running a hand through their (h/l) hair. Chat both pities them and bullies them, exactly like they knew chat would. "Well, I've never played before."

"That's fine," Scott said, picking up his own gear and walking out of the van. "Wilbur can teach you. Right, Wil?"

"Sure?"

Scott didn't hear because he was already making his way into the house.

Awkwardly, they started talking. "So-? Uh, how do you pick things up?"

"You press E," Wilbur chuckled. "G is to drop things. C is crouch, J is for Journal which you'll fill out with info on the ghost, flashlight should be T."

Nodding along, Y/N started picking up things from the shelf. "What do all these things do?"

"Some of them are obvious, like Thermometer. But others are easier to explain as we go. You should pick up a camera, crucifix, and flashlight. I'll take the EMF, a camera, and a spirit box."

Wilbur's explanations weren't too hard to follow. The two of you stuck together as they wandered the house. It was two stories with a basement and the darkness was only slightly terrifying.

"Victoria Gonzales," Wilbur called out. They were about to leave the room when their flashlights started flickering. Y/N's thermometer was picking up freezing temperatures even if the room seemed safe. Their flashlights were still flickering, so Wilbur and Y/N huddled into a corner together, silently waiting.

Quietly, Wilbur started whispering to Y/N. "We can probably leave the room, right?"

"Isn't it still hunting?" They whispered back. Wilbur rolled his eyes, "C'mon, don't you trust me?"

Silently, Y/N thought about it. They did.

"Fine."They sighed. "But if anything happens I will blame you.'"

Wilbur grinned, "Absolutely nothing will happen to you, dear."

Y/N grumbled as they silently followed after Wilbur's character, pink dust scattered across their face.  The halls were dark, grey walls plain and boring but not any less terrifying. 

And unlike what Wilbur said, Y/N died 30 seconds later. It was far too quick for them to register what was even happening before the demon's hand was clawing their face out and their body was flat on the ground. 

Wilbur was next, the demon opening the doors to the closet they were hiding in and instantly killing him. They stalked away, leaving two corpses

"Wow, I never thought you'd be stupid enough to try and do this." Wilbur deflects instantly. Y/N sighs, sadly watching their corpse just lay there.

"Well, you're here with me, so that makes you stupid too."

Wilbur rolled his eyes, grinning softly. Y/N looks over, their eyes soft and shining. [Am I doing semi-realism in this now? Whatever, go with it]

Reaching out, Wilbur held their hand in his. It wasn't the smoothest, but the callouses were beautiful to him. He could die happy (if he wasn't already dead) just holding Y/N's hand.

"You did good," Wilbur murmered, closing the distance between them. Smiling, Y/N lifted their hands and caressed Wilburs cheek. It was gentle. Safe.

"So did you."

Pressing their foreheads together, Wilbur sighed softly. "You know, there's something I haven't taught you yet."

"That is?" Y/N grinned.

Wilbur closed the gap completely, pressing their lips together. It was quick and sweet, their noses bumped together but when Y/N tilted their head it all just fit. They chased one kiss after another, tasting the sweet mix of Wilbur's cherry gum and Y/N's bubblegum ring pop.

Wilbur leaned back, his hands placed on their waist tightly. "I guess that's one thing you don't need to learn."

They breathed heavily, still gazing into each other's eyes. Wilbur smiled and then the world flipped.

{《☆》}

"I got it right, it was a demon," Scott bragged over Jack's defeated guess of a Wraith. Wilbur blinked and his chat was going crazy, full of the same thing.

Y/NBUR

Y/NXWILBUR

KINDA GAY KINDA POG

KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

"Shut up chat," Y/N said, Wilbur glanced up, grinning. Maybe his chat wasn't the only one being annoying

{《☆》}

[Okay, guys. So I started writing this off of the second phasmophobia stream Wilbur had and halfway through he went live with another phasmophobia stream and it was the best and worst timing because I couldn't focus but also *Wilbur my beloved*]

[-L0v3, k1ng]

[darks-ink]

Reanimation - Ectoberweek 2020

A family can be a bunch of ghost hunters and 1 (half) ghost child.

[first part]

Rating: Teen Warnings: Implied character death, implied child abuse Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort Words: 2,439 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - canon divergence, Sequel, Families of choice/Found family

[AO3] [FFN]

---

Agent O looked up from the report he was working on, trying to surreptitiously glance at the ghost in the van. One of the other agents had put a blanket on her—why did they have blankets in their ghost hunting van?—and she looked… cozy, for lack of a better word. Curled up even smaller than she already was, with the cape wrapped tight around her body, holding it tightly with her small fists, like she was afraid they might take it away from her otherwise.

Knowing what they had seen, where she had come from… O wouldn’t be surprised if it was a fear formed from experience.

She seemed stable enough for now, as long as she wasn’t using any of her powers. Which was good, because O wasn’t sure how they were supposed to stabilize her. When he’d promised to help her, he’d assumed that the scientists back at the base would know.

Hell, he hoped they knew. He’d promised, and knowing what she’d gone through, he would feel terrible going back on that promise now.

Looking down at the report again, he frowned. Turned back to the ghost. Cleared his throat to draw her attention. “Do you… have a name?” Was there any way to find out who these ghosts had been in life? To find out whether Masters had taken children and killed them, turned them into ghosts?

Were there parents, somewhere out there, whose child was gone and left behind the shade sitting opposite of O?

“Danielle,” she muttered, so quiet that O almost missed it. She repeated, a little more determinedly, “Danielle Phantom.”

And there it was again. Not only did she looked like Phantom, she used his name as a last name as well. How odd.

“Any relation to Phantom from Amity Park?” he asked. Had Masters somehow modeled her after Phantom? And if he had, would he have told her?

“Yeah, um.” She glanced away, eyes on her fidgeting hands. “He’s my… cousin.”

“Did Masters tell you that?” Agent L asked before O could work out an answer. “Or did you know that yourself?”

“I…” Danielle paused, clearly working through her answer. “I knew we were related,” she finally settled on. “But Daddy told me to call him my cousin.”

“And your brother?” O prodded, glaring at L over his glasses to get him to back off. “Did you know he was your brother for sure, or did Masters tell you that, too?”

Because it was undeniable that Danielle resembled Phantom more than just a little. Far more than what O would consider normal for humans. For ghosts, who could look like just about anything? It seemed suspect.

Was Phantom the first attempt? An escapee who wouldn’t listen to Masters? If he wanted another ghost just like Phantom, of course he would’ve prioritized her brother over her.

God, if only they had seen the other ghost before he’d destabilized. If he really had looked just like Phantom…

Well, it certainly had implications, didn’t it?

“No, I…” She frowned, then shook her head. “It’s different. We were all siblings, me and my brothers. Bones, Mo, Pixie… So of course he was, too, even if he never got to leave the incubator.”

“I see…” Bones, Mo, Pixie… those must’ve been the other ghosts near the mansion. Bones likely the skeletal ghost and Mo the muscular ghost, which meant that Pixie might’ve been the small one. “Your name seems a little strange, compared to theirs. How come?”

She shrugged, tugging the blankets further up, trying to curl away into it. “I… I was the only one who Daddy named. Bones, Mo, Pixie, we all picked their names. But Daddy called me Danielle…”

Her face crumpled, suddenly, somewhere between sad and outraged. “He didn’t even care about any of them! He only pretended to care about me! I— I—” The glow around her body brightened, the light visible through the blanket. Green coalesced around her clenched fists.

“Shh, shh, calm down,” O hushed, hands out and paused before putting them on her. “Danielle, you’re going to destabilize if you keep this up. Just calm down.”

“No!” she shouted back, her bright eyes snapping up to meet O’s eyes. “They’re all gone already! Nobody is going to care if I go to! Maybe—” The fire in her cut out as sudden as it had come. She sniffled, tears in her eyes. “Maybe we’ll get to reunite someplace else, someplace better.”

“Hey, shh, don’t talk like that.” O finally finished the motion he’d started, placing one hand on her shoulder. Damn this entire squad for being emotionally constipated. “Don’t look at it like that. Just think of it this way. You still remember your brothers, right, even though they’re gone? So as long as you still live, still remember them, they won’t be entirely gone.”

“Besides,” K cut in, finally. “This way, you can help us ensure that Masters gets punished properly, so he won’t ever be able to do what he did to you and your brothers. Don’t you want to help us with that?”

Her glow settled down, finally, as her expression grew determined. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I would like to do that.”

O drew back, then threw a glance at the report he’d abandoned to the floor. Shook his head as he picked it up, then put it away properly, instead taking out a voice recorder. “Alright, how about we start with this then. You tell us everything you know. We can record it, and you won’t have to talk about any of it again if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nodded, shifting her shoulders underneath the blanket like she was bracing herself. “Tell me where to start, please?”

---

“Danielle,” O said, disapprovingly, frowning at her. “You know the rules.”

“K said it was fine!” she immediately retorted, gesturing at her plate. Which was, of course, loaded with all kinds of sweets. Sometimes she maybe it rather easy to remember that her apparent age and her mental age didn’t quite line up right.

“Did he now?” O asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “So if I go over there right now and ask him…”

“No, don’t!” She grabbed onto the plate, holding it away from him. “L said I should, not K! But—”

Why was it always L? O made a mental note to speak to the man later, and then to talk to L’s partner M as well, just to be safe.

“Danielle,” he said, more patiently now. “I know you like the sweet things, but you need to eat properly, okay? You need to stay healthy.”

“But the ectoplasmic stuff is yucky.” She made a face, then jerked away when he stepped closer. “You can’t stop me from eating this!”

“Danielle,” O said, again, feeling his patience rapidly deplete. “You can have it after you’ve eaten all your regular food, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly considering it. Finally she heaved a deep sigh and put the plate back down onto the table. “Fine.”

“I’ll go and grab some from the kitchen, then.” He stepped past her, ruffling her hair on the way. “Behave yourself, or I’ll have P and Q watch over you next time.”

“Noooo,” she whined, sprawling over the table. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

O hummed thoughtfully. “You’d better, little lady.” And with a last wink to her, he left the room.

Time would tell whether she would actually listen or not. O wasn’t sure if it was proper parenting behavior but, to be fair, none of them were proper parents anyway.

Besides, what kind of parenting advice would apply to a young ghost, anyway? Danielle appeared to be about twelve, but her behavior often seemed to fit a child much younger, and she couldn’t remember a life before being a ghost, either.

At least they had managed to stabilize her. It took quite a bit of work to convince the scientists to help stabilize her, rather than experiment on her, but they had managed it. After all, Danielle had been one of their few captures, and her behavior was so complicated that it clearly required further research. Not to mention her similarities to Phantom. Subjecting her to regular research would’ve a waste, no?

O scoffed to himself. A waste, definitely, but not for any of those reasons.

Now all they needed to keep her stable was a steady diet of ectoplasmic contaminated food. And also some regular food, because Danielle burned through quite a bit of energy just by existing.

And boy, was she intent on doing more than just existing. They needed all Agents on base just to keep her safe and occupied sometimes. Over time it had just… somehow become standard fare for all of them. They were all living on base anyway, so why not help take care of the little ghost?

O shook his head to try and dislodge the thoughts and focus on what he was doing. With a resigned sigh he opened the designated Danielle fridge, peering over its contents to find something lunch-worthy. Ah! Sliced ham. Perfect.

Quickly, he set about making some sandwiches, letting his thoughts stray once more. Yes, somehow Danielle had become the base’s shared child. No one present among the Guys in White would dare to harm her anymore. The few scientists that had let their curiosity stray a little too far had been corrected and, when they refused to learn, got fired entirely.

Or, well. They weren’t around anymore, at least. O might be in charge of his team, but he wasn’t that high up. He assumed they must’ve gotten fired, but who knew with government organizations like theirs.

Either way, Danielle was safe among them. She was cared for, protected, and okay. They hadn’t gotten Masters locked away yet, building a perfect foolproof plan first, but he was under constant supervision. No other children would suffer, no other ghosts would be made by his hand.

And, soon enough, he would pay for what he had done.

O finished the sandwiches, cleaning up the supplies and carefully picking up the plate. Now, time to see if Danielle had behaved herself.

He stepped through the doorway, back into the room where he’d left Danielle. Quietly, he inched closer to the table, then put down the plate with sandwiches right between her hand and the plate with sweets.

“Busted,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand.

“Busted,” O echoed with a grin, drawing away the other plate. “Lunch first, Danielle.”

“I know, I know.” She sighed wearily, like it was a huge task, and pulled the sandwiches closer to herself. “But sweets after?”

“Eat all your lunch first, then we’ll see if you have space left.” He sat down opposite of her, the plate with sweets in front of him. “Who’s watching you after?”

“Agent K is,” she said around a bite of food. “Why?”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to get sick while she’s watching you, would we?” O smiled down at her. If it had been L, he might’ve considered it. It would’ve been a good lesson for both Danielle and L, who had encouraged her. But K? She was a good Agent, and she took good care of Danielle.

O watched Danielle tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear, feeling… satisfied. Yes, they were taking pretty good care of her, all things considered. She’d stabilized, and her core had grown mature enough for her to develop her own unique powers. She was a fully grown ghost now, even if her mind remained young.

Still, he was curious to see if she would grow in body, too. One of the first unique powers she had developed was a minor shapeshifting ability, after all, allowing her to look perfectly human. Which made sense, according to the Agents on base, since Danielle was so human, and spent so much time around humans as well. Of course she would develop powers related to that.

It was perfectly possible that she would continue to develop her shapeshifting ability to allow her to look older as time passed. O would be curious to see it. To see what she would look like, fully grown.

And, yes. Sometimes he wondered if this was what Danielle had looked like before she’d died. If somewhere out there, there were parents who could look at her and know this was their child. But they didn’t know how long Masters had her, or any of the other ghosts. Didn’t know what happened to their parents.

For all they knew, Masters had taken only orphans, or had killed the parents and made them orphans. It was better not to worry about it, when there was nothing to be done about it anymore.

Danielle finished her sandwiches, then turned big, watery, blue eyes onto O. “Please?”

He sighed, then slid the plate with sweets back over to her. “If you get sick, it’ll be your own fault. And L’s.”

“Yes!” she cheered, taking the plate from him. “I’ll be careful, promise!”

“Uh huh,” he said, dry and unconvinced.

She started munching away on the sweets, scattering crumbs all over the table as well as her clothes. Mentally, O made a note to have someone clean the room later.

“Hey,” Danielle said, suddenly, lowering the piece of chocolate she’d been about to bite into. “O? Is there… any chance you guys might take me to Amity Park someday?”

Amity Park? Why?

Apparently he’d taken a moment too long to respond, because she quickly added, “Y’know, to meet my cousin?”

“I… I’ll talk to the others about it, see if we can manage something.” Right. Her cousin. Who they were hunting down for haunting Amity Park. Who might be another one of Masters’ victims, and who might be just as human as Danielle.

That Phantom.

Danielle grinned at him, bright and cheerful. “Thank you!”

O sighed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Don’t thank me just yet. I can’t promise anything, just that I’ll try.”

“So? I can thank you for trying, can’t I?” She patted his hand, then suddenly jumped out of her chair. “Oh! I’d better get going before K gets worried.”

“Go, then,” O said, waving her away. “And Danielle? Stay out of trouble.”

“Like K will let me get in trouble,” she answered, blowing a raspberry at him. “Bye, O!” she called back before rushing out of the room, running down one of the hallways.

He listened to her rapidly decreasing footsteps, then heaved a sigh.

Right. Time to look into Phantom and Amity Park once more.

[blouisparadise]

Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the second month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics!  Happy reading!

1) You Can Be The Boss Daddy | Explicit | 1641 words

This is just Louis being used and humiliated by his strong Daddy

2) Don't Pretend That I Don't Entice You | Explicit | 2086 words

“Speaking of which, he couldn't wait to get home to see him. They both worked long days and most of the time their days off didn't line up. But they made up for things like that when they could, spending hours cuddling in bed and talking about the randomest of things or ya know, having mind-blowing sex that left them sated and panting, heated limbs tangled together and breaths and scents mingling. Harry enjoyed those moments quite a bit, if he was going to be at all honest.”

3) The Sound Of Music | Explicit | 2602 words

Harry quietly makes his way down the stairs and into the large foyer, the marble floors are cold against his bare feet and he regrets not taking his slippers.

The tinkling of piano keys flirts its way to his ears and he turns his head in the direction of their living room. His mouth quirks sideways with a smile and he makes his way towards the music.

4) Letters From Boston | Explicit | 3316 words

Louis’s standing in the kitchen when he opens the first letter.

5) Starlight In Your Eyes Of Blue | Mature | 4434 words

Harry is in New York while Louis is back home at London waiting for Harry’s return. Unfortunately, Harry may be unable to come back home in time for Christmas and most importantly—Louis’ birthday. Louis can’t wait any longer to be in a bed that’s no longer empty but in the end it changes.

6) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

7) My Kingdom for Your Graces | Explicit | 5257 words

Louis gets a last minute day off and Harry decides to surprise him with a visit. They proceed to do what lovers do.

8) I Think I'm In Love | Mature | 6019 words

Louis' a young man looking for love. Harry's a sugar daddy looking for a new sub. They meet through a dating app and decide to try out a relationship.

9) Daddy's Little Kitty | Mature | 7224 words

Harry Styles is a gentle master. But what happens when Louis pushes him to his limits?

10) There's More Than One Place To Call Home | Explicit | 8416 words

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

11) Cooking With Styles | Explicit | 9119 words

Anyone can cook— or so they say.

12) Watching The World Fall | Explicit | 11777 words

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

13) We'll Be the Fine Line | Not Rated | 13443 words

Louis listens to Fine Line, and, drunk, he leaves a voicemail for Harry after months of not speaking. This reminds Harry of a time before everything fell apart, slowly, painfully, a time when the two of them were still in love. And he desperately wants to go back.

14) (You're Gonna See Me In A) New Light | Mature | 13631 words

A fake relationship au where everyone knows it's real but Louis.

15) Don't Know If I Could Ever Go Without | Explicit | 14140 words

“We’ve come up with a solid solution. You’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?” Louis narrows his eyes suspiciously, glancing at a visibly enthusiastic Liam.

“What if you pretended to be an Alpha?” Zayn suggests.

16) Something Wicked This Way Comes | Explicit | 16526 words

A regency murder mystery au where Louis is married to an earl and Harry is a detective. Hatchets are buried but not everyone is as they seem.

17) Keep It Sweet In Your Memory | Explicit | 17039 words

'How'd it go?' Harry pushes them into Niall's room and shuts the door behind him, so Georgia doesn't overhear.

'It was good. We just caught up, mostly... I may have done something a little stupid, though.'

And Niall's eyebrows are in his hairline at that.

'I mean. Okay, so I invited Louis out on Saturday.'

'Saturday? Your--'

'Yes, my bachelor party...' and then Harry has to explain himself, 'I just felt guilty. I think. He was like. Telling me he wanted to hook up.'

'He WHAT!?'

'No. I mean, not with me. Like. He wants to go out and meet people.'

'He'll hate that. He's too much of a romantic.'

'Yeah, well. Whatever his name was messed him up a little, it would seem.'

18) UN(RE)SOLVED | Explicit | 20873 words

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

Or, BuzzFeed Unsolved AU.

19) The Way The Storms Blow | Explicit | 21649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

20) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words

an ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

(aka: a college au, harry is a frat boy, and louis wants to know all of his secrets.)

21) Weightless | Explicit | 25330 words

He hopes that Harry still thinks of him. God knows Louis thinks of him every day.

Or: Harry is the best dragon racer the world has ever seen and Louis is an almost-vet who feels like he is carrying the weight of the world.

22) Creep | Explicit | 26092 words

Harry is a wallflower, louis is a sophomore brat with a heart of gold no one seems to notice, harry, a senior, is a musician in disguise. louis finds him in the music room, Harry performing his self written song Creep on a talent show. he steals Louis' heart and begins to stalk Harry on social media, finding out the boy is gorgeous inside and out, tattoos popping against his milky skin, unashamed of his amazing body.

a story of a boy with dark thoughts finding his way through the dark with his light guiding him.

23) Blue Lotus | Explicit | 29815 words

Note: This fic is Louis/OMC.

After the Second Rebellion and the dismantling of President Cowell’s regime, Louis struggles to make sense of life.

A post-Hunger Games AU.

24) You Contain In Your Eyes The Sunset And The Dawn | Mature | 38152 

Harry Styles was to spend six months at AT&T Inc. of all telecommunications companies in the world, also known as the largest one in its field. This was the biggest deal of his life; it will both improve his expertise in the domain and maybe secure the job of his dreams. There was only one problem standing in the way, and it came in the form of a stunning, irresistible and intimidating cat hybrid of the name Louis Tomlinson. In other words, his boss.words

25) We Can Go On Forever (When Everything’s Gone Forever) | Mature | 39421

Harry spent most of his adult life focused on either his studies or his books - 5 of which he has already had published before he was 30. Immediately after completing his dissertation, he was offered a lectureship at Cambridge University where he’s been for 2 years now.

This wasn’t the first time in his life that he had felt the incessant itch to know more about a subject by any means. However, this was the first time the subject had been an Omega.

26) Canyon Moon | Explicit | 40895 words

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

27) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

28) If You're Out There (I'll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

OR the story of how one man’s love changed the world.

29) “If I Cut Out a Heart...” | Explicit | 66225 words

Stripper au! louis is a stripper who’s known for his huge ass. he works at a club owned by harry and everyone wants to fuck him. eventually louis has sex with each of the boys, separately and perhaps eventually all together in a big gang bang. lots of focus on louis’s big bum (even twerking, jiggling, etc.)

30) You Smell Like | Explicit | 185369 words

The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[exodusmc]

Stars in his eyes

Genre: smut, college au

Words: 3875

Paring: San x reader 

Warning!:  semi public, light dirty talk, fingering, some pet names, penetrativ sex, protected sex, hickeys, hair pulling, drinking.

a/n: I do not have a thing for public stuff...Kinda new to ateez so.. 

Gif is not mine

He laughed way too loud in the library, angry glances and words coming his way in an instants. He understood, it was a library he was currently in after all, trying to diseifer some history texts. A blush grew over his cheeks and suddenly was he aware about everything around him, every little move. Mingi and Yeosang stared at him, smirking at his embarrassment, which was fueled by Mingi’s quiet words.

“Y/n’s here...if you wanted to know” San could die right there, it would be less painful. Timid glances went through the room, over faces, until it found yours. You looked kinda pissed and San’s mood fell all the way to the bottom. Another reason for you to dislike him. Why is he so stupid?

You were quite annoyed with the loud boy, his laugh having disturbed your deep study, but what was to be waited by the loud smiling idiot? Nothing less. Signing were you standing and making a b-line for the door, having lost all the motivation for school. San sat with his friends and you sent him a displeased look, which falted when his sad eyes met your for just one second. He looked regretful and so down that your irritation faded to some sort of neutrality.  You weren't his friend but hadn't really anything against him, besides his loudness. You signed again, deciding to stop thinking about the boy who shouldn't take room in your messy brain. 

Days flew by and school slowed down for just one day, a friday. Your friends wanted to go out, you wanted to sleep and besides, a frat party weren't something that sounded so fun. 

“Come on Y/n! This may be our last chance to have fun!” Junki whined over the phone, her high pitched voice drowning out Liz who you originally talked to.  

“No it’s not” you deadpanned but none of them could see you. Liz chuckled over the line.

“It’s not far from the truth..I’ll be at yours in about half an hour and I’ll drag you out if you're not done” Junki squealed in excitement and the call was cut. 

“Of fucking course…” you would never get out of this one but if you got them drunk could you escape before 1 am and the gross frat boys. 

“Looking good!” Junki ran to you,her hair bright and falling over her shoulders. Her clothes small but she looked nice. Your tight lipped smile made her frown slightly. 

“Why are you so sour?!” Liz came in view after a second, eyes hiding behind thin glasses. 

“Maybe because I don't want to be here?” this time could they see you deadpanning at them. Music blasted through the house to your right. Bodies moving in and out, you could already smell  all the sweat. It ached in your soul to go home again, to your pizza and away from all the annoying classmates. 

“Then why are you so dolled up?” Liz comment made you hiss at her and Junki giggle. 

“Don't lie to us Y/n! You want to be here!” she laughed so loud making you regret taking the skirt and top you had chosen. 

“Maybe she is so nicely dress because of someone special, hmm?”Liz smirked and was so wrong.

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?”

“I’M NOT DRESS UP FOR ANYONE!” you screeched at them, having none of it. 

“Sure, tell that to San” your face heated up at his name, why? You weren't sure, it’s not like you like him.

“You like San? The history major?” Junki looked surprised but soon changed to smug anime girl like expression.

“No!” there was an urgency in your voice and it sounded so pathetically obvious that you could like him, so obvious you wanted to hit yourself. 

“He-he’s annoying and loud!” your cheek puffed and both your friends looked knowingly at you as the three of you finally step inside the hell hole. 

“Sure Y/n, let’s see about that when you have his tongue down your throat” you gaped at Liz, completely taken by her bluntness. No way in hell would that happen!

San sat in a corner, sulking. Ever since he had seen you in the library had he been like that, because he liked you and had for a while. It’s not like the two of you had many classes together or was in the same friend group. It was just the way you smiled so bright, the way you seemed to hate everyone but actually care very deeply instead, well for everyone but him. San wondered what he could have done to make you dislike him, he couldn't really think of anything, besides the quite persistent stares you had caught. Maybe you thought he stalked you..

“Oh shit..” 

“Something wrong?” Mingi asked, red cup in hand, his hair fluffy. 

“I’m not a stalker!” 

“Have someone suggest that?” San blushed. He needed alcohol and everything would be fine. 

“No..” he practically ran from the corner, moving between dancing bodies. His goal was the kitchen but it was hard and too warm. He felt stressed and faces blurred.

The kitchen was dirty, cans and cups everywhere, and you. San stopped dead in his tracks, eyes following your figure. You were leaning into the fridge, not realising he was there. The boy didn't know what to do, his mind turned blank until the door closed and you turned. San was out in an instant, searching for an escape. He felt dizzy and in the wrong. He looked at you and you didn't know but it wasn't that bad either.   

“San, you good?” Mingi came into view again, concerned, however, San could only see the cup in his hand. 

“Can I have that?” he didn't wait for an answer just chugged down the bitter tasting liquid. A more pleasant warmth spread through his body and the panic drained from him.

“Yeah man, I’m fine” San were gone again while Mingi was left perplexed. He tried to find his friend but only saw you. Everything made sense and made it so much worse. 

You weren't a lightweight but it didn't  take much for you get wasted and that was what you currently were. Smiling and giggly, sitting in someone's lap. Liz and Junki were gone and you didn't care at all. 

“You wanna dance?” the hottie asked and you nodded, letting him bring you up and into the disgusting ocean. 

You two stood close, his hands ran over your body, igniting arousal in you. Dark locks hung over his eyes and you felt muscles flex under your light touch. You were so out of it to be honest, boredom hitting you halfway through song. Even if he was hot, was he not what you wanted..and it was embarrassing to accept what you wanted to have between your fingers because it would make Liz so smug. 

“So what’s your name?” there was a slight slur to your speech but you still controlled your thoughts, well he controlled them.  

“Ehm Josh..” you nodded lazily, drowning out the boy before you because you found San. He was standing in a corner, not happy like he usually are and you found yourself missing his wide smile, even his loud laugh. You hadn't thought about it earlier but his presence had somehow brighten up your days and you hadn’t even talked to him.

“Goddamnit San..”

“What?” you didn't answer, just slipped out of his grasping fingers, eyes on the boy who you thought annoyed you. 

Of course...San stared at you, watching someone touch you like he wanted, feel you like he wanted. He wasn't drunk anymore, his pure bliss had slipped through his fingers. San found himself in a corner again, sulking. His mood was nothing like the others knew him to be but a broken heart can to that to someone. He could locate Yeosang in the ocean of bodies, the latter sending worried glances his way. San didn't want to stop them having fun but at the same time was the will to smile, even fake it, long gone. 

“Whatever…” he mumbled to no-one, turning to find somewhere safe. Hands developed his torso, a body pressed against his back. 

The boy turned back stunned. His wide eyes met yours, clearly drunk, but San couldn't believe you actually hugged him first. Something stirred in him, hot fires burning. Your fingers were dangerous, gliding over his arms. San just stood there, in your arms, gaping like a fish.

“Y/n!?” his voice made you giggle, look at him through hooded eyes, sin written all over you. 

“Why is pretty boy not laughing like he always does, even in the library? Hmm?” San blushed furiously, remembering the moment. You hadn't really expected to see his eyes gloss over and small drops form in the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, you became sober and your hands went to his cheeks. The feeling of regret washed over you when San tried to shake of your hands. He could no longer look in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? San?” bangs hung over his eyes, hiding them, but you felt the soft tears roll from them. 

“Nothing..” he choked out and your hands dropped from his face, just to take his hand, leading him away. 

San soon stood a couple houses away from the party, hands in yours, and dried tears. You waited out him, staring up into the sky, hunting stars. The soft sniffles had stopped but you still held his hand, not completely sure why. Maybe some sort of feelings you had been representing finally overpowered your stubbornness. 

“So..do you like stars? I really like them. They’re beautiful, every single one of them. I like to think of people as stars sometimes…” you started rambling, not noticing San’s loving gaze. It was weird to have you so close and it felt like he was your boyfriend because he held your hand. San softly sighed, not intending for you to stop but you did, locking eyes with him. It’s cheesy but it really felt like the world stopped for the both of you.

“...the stars” you finished your sentence, watching him, wondering. San leaned in before he could think, placing a soft kiss on your lips. His mind roared at him in anger, wanting him to stop but the feeling of your lips was overpowering. 

“I’m sorry..” he whispered, mouth ghosting yours, eyes closed. 

“You okay?” San actually laughed, having heard that question countless times this night, but when he saw you smile was it not so hard to answer. 

“I’m fine” some bitterness hid behind the words and you leaned forward, licking your lips. 

San stared at you, felt the closeness of you. Hormones went wild in him and you plush lips made him remember their softness. He leaned right back at you, catching the shock in your eyes, only feeling proud and cocky in return. 

“You know..I have always wondered why you hate me? Care to enlighten me?” confusion spread over you face, because you didn't hate him.

“I don't hate you. Why do you think that?” San blushed bright red, losing his dominance. He was sure you disliked him. 

“But you always look so pissed!” you found him incredibly cute at the moment, giggling before lacing arms around his neck.  

“Well I look like that all the time...But to be real, I probably have the opposite feelings for you” you stared at him, seeing the stars in his eyes, and he stared right back at you. 

“Come” rapid stepps, racing through the night city. You felt giddy, laughing every turn you made, at every shrike San broke. You had no clue where you were going but felt like you were on the right track, the right track for your happiness, at least for the night. 

To your surprise were you dragged up stairs of a building closer to the edge of the city. It was calmer here, more beautiful and a place where you never even cared for to see. The door to the roof swung open, revealing some chairs, a sofa under a makeshift shelter and a breathtaking view of both the city lights and the stars. You eyes blew open, mouth agape. You never knew the boring downtown could look so mesmerising. San stood close to you, smiling down at your expression. 

“Where are we?” he chuckled, interwinding your fingers with his, heat raising on both your faces. 

“I used to come here when I was little. No-one seemed to care for the roof nor the building either..” so the two of you were alone in a almost public place, anyone could actually see you or hear you, why was that a so big turn on?

“So why did you bring me here?” the smirk didn't go unnoticed by San, his fingers leaving your hand, just to lace in your hair, tugging lightly at it, making you look up at his full lengthy frame. 

“Why do you think? Hmm?” you laughed, already deciding to be a tease but never getting a chance because San didn't think it was funny. He was not in the mood for bratty behavior. San ganked harder at you hair, making you gasp and finally take in his eyes, his blown pupils and lusty gaze. 

“I asked What do you think?..Slut” he hesitated for a second, searching for rejection at his words but only found your face flush and eyes glossy in lust. It was all San needed to know that you were okay with those words, more than okay. 

“To fuck me?” your throat felt dry, anticipation bruning in you. 

“That’s what you want? Of course and in the open, where anyone can see you” you whimpered at his words, beyond turned on and falling fast from grace.  

“Please...please touch me” your pleading did things to San, made him hard within seconds. It didn't help that he like you and you like him, it made everything so much more perfect. 

“But you have all your clothes on, how am I supposed to touch you with them on?” your fingers found them hem of your shirt, disposing it fast, goosebumps forming on your skin at the cool air of the night. 

“So eager..” San smirked, it didn't feel like all of this was happening, like it was a dream but no the less, he felt good. He dragged his hands down your sides, watching every face you made. Your skin was smooth and he wanted to taste it. 

You ached for San to do something, prefengly kiss you but he bent down, mouth attached right above your navel, sucking lightly. You gasped, sensitive to every warm touch of his. San kissed his way up from your stomach, over your right breast, nipple wanting to be free, and up to your collarbone, where he stopped to suck. You could feel every mark he left over the skin, moving to the left one to litter it with purple as well. You whined, wanting more and for his shirt to come of. Hands tugged at it, only to be swatted away. 

“I never imagined you to be so needy” he whispered against your ear, having you drooling. You wanted to answer back but his fingers slipped past your skirt and all that left your mouth was unintelligible sounds. 

“So wet..” San throbbed in his pants at the feeling of your neediness, at the way you couldn't even speak. 

The pad of his fingers dragged over your slit, pressuring on your clit but not enough. You whined louder, forgetting that you where in the open. San went back onto your neck, taking a deep breath before licking up it. You wrapped your arms around his nape, using him to keep you up right. Your pussy spasming painfully and his fingers was not enough. Your hips bucked against him, giving you a second to feel his hard on, whining at it. 

“More~” San smiled down at your closed eyes, giving you what you wanted because you had been good and because he loved the face you pulled at it, every muscle contracting in the unexpected pleasure. 

You felt so warm, a contrast to the chilling night air, and it was hard to keep incontrol for San. He needed for you to fall first, to have you cumming all over his fingers before his cock. You couldn't keep your eyes open, his thrusting digits hitting deep and hard, your pussy clamping down on them. 

“Look at me..” San’s voice could have you undone and you fought to get them open, staring right at him. San couldn't believe the sight you were for him, already wearing a fucked out expression, saliva dripping down the side of your quivering mouth. 

“Feel good?” the question was mocking you, making you tighter. 

“Yes~” your voice rose an octave, thighs clenching around his hand. Something in your stomach dropped, legs shaking. San stared at you with intensity, working harder, scissoring his fingers as deep as he could in you. 

You bit your under lip, almost drawing blood, when everything exploded. Hot white light flashing before your eyes, heart ringing in your ears. A whine slipped past your tongue, San yanking your head back to hear the end of your orgasm. It was beautiful to him, making his cock press tightly against his jeans. He felt you slacking in his arms, thrashing slightly to get away from his moving fingers. 

“No-no more..” you gasped, close to falling down. San stopped, fingers still deep in your pussy, but not moving. He listened to your panting, watching your chest rise and fall. Your hair was messy due to his fingers, and he loved it. 

“Did you cum?” it was obvious you did but he like seeing you embarrassed when he reminded you of what he did to you, how much control he had. “Answer.”

You whined out a yes, head falling to his shoulder. San smiled and pulled his fingers out of you, once again tugging at your hair. 

“Open” his voice was dark and you knew exactly what he meant. 

Your mouth opened, the wet muscle falling out as well. You tasted yourself on his fingers, sucking them deeper in. San watched at the way to took care of his fingers, being all messy. Your lips opened and closed around him and San imanged that it was something else you sucked so beautifully on. His goal was done, you had fallen for him. His cock twitched, demanding attention. 

“Stop” you listened, submitting to him like nothing.”Move” 

Soon were you leaning over the couch, legs wide and shaking at the cold air hitting your warm wet pussy. San’s hands were on you, the skirt pushed up to your waist. He dragged them over your cheeks and back, seeing all the hair raise on your body. He wondered if he went to far but you would say something if that was the case, hopefully would some great aftercare make up for his roughness. He squeezed one of your curves, seeing it turn colors for a second. You pushed against him, feeling the jean material against your cunt. 

“Please..Can I have more?” your voice was high and San groped your butt tighter.

“More of what?” San sounded so sulterly, you almost screamed.

“More pleasure..Please” you didn't care you were begging like some bitch, you were to desperate to feel him fill you up.

“How do you want it” this time, you mewled out in annoyance: Hie teasing made you see stars, the same stars that had been in his eyes. 

“I want your cock deep in me!” you screamed out, grip tightening around the couch, hopping to god no-one heard you. 

“Okay sweetie” he chuckled at your misery and you tensed at the pet name. 

The sound of a belt unbuckling had you dripping, the rip of plastic fueling it. You wanted to see him but the firmness of his hands told you to stay still. The tip of him stroked your still clothed core but it wasn't long until it ran through your folds directly. A soft moan left you, trying to urge him on. San could feel your warmth and had no problem slipping into you, the wetness making it easy. He groaned at how you tightened around him when he was completely inside you. 

“Oh god” you clenched at his voice, wanting him to move now. 

“Please San” he didn't wait a second to pound into you, hard and fast. San had been waiting for so long, he could explode immediately but fought it to hear you screams, still somewhat fresh of your first orgasm. 

You didn't know what to do, feeling overwhelmed and wanting more. You jerked forward at San’s movements, breast pressing against the couch, giving more pleasure. Your hips would probably be bruised tomorrow at his grip but you loved it, never really experienced sex like this. He was big, reaching everywhere inside you. You could already feel the second orgasm creep from your nerves but wanted San to cum as well, so you clenched, hearing him hiss behind you. 

“Naughty..” he moaned lowley, smashing your hips against his pelvis. 

“I want y-you to cum with me..San~” his name sounded so good from your desperate mouth, it actually made him twitch inside you. San begun working harder, chasing your orgasm and his own. Hands gripped in your hair, forcing your back to arch, mouth agape. 

“Come on baby..Cum over my cock” you whined out a moan, feeling him cum into the condom as well. Euphoria blessed you and you couldn't believed you had been annoyed at San once, he treated you so good. 

He pulled out of you, watching you legs give in and collapse down on the sofa. San licked his lips, panting heavily but felt amazing. Sweat coated both of your bodies and the night air laid nicely around you. You relaxed onto the couch, breathing normally. San stood behind you, your skirt had fallen down. 

“You okay?” his voice was so soft now, contrasting to how it was before. You felt San help you sit properly on the sofa, bringing you your shirt. San had dressed himself, arms around you when you too was clothed. 

“Hmm..”you murmured to him, head placed on his shoulder. Fingers stroked your arm, lulling you to sleep. You were worn out and smiling at it. “Take me home. Take me home and stay with me”

You woke up with San’s arm around you, holding you close in his sleep and looking all cute. A soft smile grassed your features, a blush accompanying it with last night's events. 

“What did I say” you sat up so fast you woke San, whos hair pointed everywhere. He was confused. You felt embarrassment drown you when you met Liz smug gaze, feeling bad for San. 

“You couldn't even have believed yourself...The tongue thing wasn't wrong then?” she laughed, leaving you two alone and you turned to San, seeing him blush as well. But you just bursted laughing, him following after. You felt light close to him and he felt right close to you. 

[1000roughdrafts]

Birth and Death

Summary: Y/N was excited for her friends 21st birthday, but when she got a knock on the door she was greeted by two FBI agents with bad news instead of her friends. The things the agents told her changed her life forever.

Warnings: angst, talk of death, written visualization of a dead body, dead friend of reader

A/N: this is written for @spnclassicbingo and kind of a strange portrayal. This is part 1 of I think a 2 part series. We’ll see, but when they’re finished they’ll all be linked appropriately. Let me know what you think of this, please. I’m on my phone so I hope the keep reading insert works okay

Pairings; General (for now, we as writers now how characters can develop on their own lol) 

Square filled: Dead Body

W/C: 2k

Y/N had just finished cleaning the kitchen after putting the cake into the oven for her best friends birthday. As the sweet, vanilla aroma filled the room, she skipped around the kitchen to prepare the decorations. There would be about ten people in her little apartment for the party.

Twenty-one was certainly something to be celebrated, so she thoroughly enjoyed the preparations. She set the vodka, rum and whiskey along with mixers on the dining table before pulling one of the chairs around to put steamers on the walls.

She couldn’t help but to hum her favorite songs as she danced around the room, shaking her hips to the music in her head. She might have even been more excited than the birthday girl, but the truth was that she loved to host parties. Her friends jokingly call her the “group mom” for her efforts in making them safe, happy and healthy. She couldn’t help it. She loved them to no end.

So wrapped up in the music filling her ears, she almost missed the knock on the door. Gasping in excitement, she dropped the cups on the table and skipped to the door.

Instead of the few early friends she was expecting, there stood two tall men with somber yet stoic expressions. One wore a suit and tie with the proper suit jacket. The other wore a long jacket, ironically matching the beautiful, brown locks that he brushed out of his face before both held up their badges.

“Agent Sully and this is Agent Hitchcock,” he says.

She stifled a giggle by way of a hand covering her mouth, “aren’t those television characters?”

The shorter man, in comparison to the other, frowned and ignored her cheerful question and manner. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

His seriousness was enough to shock her into dropping the smile and straightening her posture, “yes, that’s me. What’s - what’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“Unfortunately there is,” the long haired man speaks out, she assumed this was Agent Sully. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?” he adds, gesturing into the house.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, opening her body to allow the men to enter. “Couch is just that way,” she pointed.

Agent Sully gave a small nod, smiling when he took the lead. Agent Hitchcock kept his face tight, examining her house on his way through.

When she shut the door behind them, she offered beverages to which both declined.

Agent Sully found his way to the couch, sitting on the edge of it with his hands folding between his knees. The other agent took his time, eyes scanning the alcohol and banners in the house.

He twirled a finger around, “I take it you're expecting people other than a couple of FBI agents,” he jokes with a chuckle, but the laugh is cold, empty.

She crossed her arms, looking proudly at her decorations and smiling at the formation of alcohol on the table, “it’s my best friends birthday,” she gleamed. “I’m throwing her a party.”

He nodded, lips pressed down. The other man squirmed uncomfortably, opening his hands to hold one out, “well, uh-“ he cleared his throat. “We’ll make this quick then,” he said.

The nosy agent found his way to the couch next to his partner, adjusting his pants and tie as he sat. Y/N stood in front of them, anxiously anticipating what was to come.

“Uh, ms.-“ one started.

“Y/N,” she said, withholding the smile. She was no longer excited about the party, her heart beated in an anxious pattern. She kept her arms folded in front of her as the men exchanged a glance.

Agent Hitchcock cleared his throat, and she couldn’t help to think that he was coming down with a cold and how she could help that. “Are you familiar with a woman named,” he stopped to look at the paper in his hands, shuffling it around to pull a picture out. “F/N?” He said before rotating the picture around to show her.

Her heart dropped, the blood rushed from her face. She no longer felt like she could stand and sat in the chair next to the couch, holding the picture to her face. It couldn’t be. It was her birthday, she was a good girl - what kind of trouble could she have gotten into?

“Miss?” One of the agents whispered, a hand on her knee.

She cleared her throat, fully understanding why the agents had been as well. Yet The lump wouldn’t go away and she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe. She dropped the picture into Agent Sully’s lap and moved around the room, absentmindedly opening windows.

Agent Sully stood, “Y/N, do you know this woman?”

“Yes,” she blurted out, hands falling against her side. She focused on the heat from the slap, it was better than the heat in her chest. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“I’m afraid not,” Agent Hitchcock spoke out, voice gruff.

She couldn’t believe it. Her hands found their way to her face, tears threatening to run free. Agent Sully wrapped his arms around her, but only to guide her to the chair once again.

When she sat, she uncovered her face, looking between the two men. She thought they either had no empathy for people or deal with this a lot, as their faces remained stoic as they told her about the death of her friend and asked questions regarding people who might have wanted to hurt her. That frustrated Y/N to no end, her face pressed together and she stood once again.

“What are you getting at?” She screeched. “My friend is - is apparently dead and you’re somehow saying she pissed someone off enough to kill her?” Sh accused.

The men stood, holding hands up in their defense and tried to calm her down. “No, look, Y/N,” Agent Sully said, shaking his head gently. “We just want to get to the bottom of this. We want to bring justice to your friend and find out who did this,” he said, exhaling a breath and dropping his hands. “That’s all.”

When she calmed enough, Agent Hitchcock requested the restroom and headed off in the direction she pointed him. Agent Sully took her in his arms again, and that’s when the tears broke free.

No amount of shock could prevent the pain she felt in that moment. She couldn’t focus on the words he was saying. All she wanted to do was smash all of the alcohol bottles against the wall, rip down the banners and throw the cake away.

Her nose crinkled, and the tears stopped long enough for her to realize she’d never pulled the cake from the fridge. “Oh no,” she cried, running to take it out.

She slammed the pan full of black, burnt cake onto the top of the stove, “damn it!” she yelled, tears pouring out again. Her heavy heart pulled her to the floor of the kitchen, tears running down her face rapidly. Her ears were ringing too loud to notice that Agent Sully had pulled her to a stand and wrapped his large body around her in a hug.

She knew she had only just met this person, but the most important person in her life was dead and it didn’t matter who was in front of her. If they were willing to offer solace, she was going to take it. He pulled one arm away to turn off the oven and then pulled her away from him.

With glossy eyes, she looked up at him, “I wanna see her,” she choked.

He only shook his head, mouth agape. The other agent stood behind him then, shaking his head more firmly. “That’s not a good idea,” he said.

She glared in his direction, “why not?”

“Your friend is um,” the softer spoken agent that kept a comfortable grip on her said, “not in very good shape.”

She ripped her body away from him, glaring at the two men. “Take me to her, please,” she cried.

They exchanged another glance. The tall one seemed to be pleading in her favor and the other reluctantly nodded.

__

The morgue was full of people, mostly ones with lab coats and scrubs on. The two men guided her back to the autopsy room where her friend was. The agent hadn’t lied, she looked to be torn to shreds. Her chest was opened like a zipper, a white sheet covered her from the waste down. Even with minimal visibility from the film of tears over her eyes, she could see deep scratch marks covering her friends face.

She brought her shaking arm up to point at her friends chest, “why is her heart missing?”

The two men looked at each other once again, clearly not knowing what to say.

“Why are you guys so damn cryptic?” she shouted.

Agent Sully took quick steps to her, looking out of the window to make sure no one had heard her outburst. He took her in his arms once again, but she was resisting. She didn’t want to be comforted by people who kept secrets. She wanted her friend. It was her birthday for fuck sake.

“We can’t talk about that here,” Agent Sully said softly.

“Take me to where we can talk about it,” she said, crossing her arms. “I want to know everything that you do, damn it.”

—

The two men led her back to their glossy, black Chevy Impala. She sat in the back and they, in the front, twisted around to speak to her face to face.

Agent Sully, with his hands folded together, spoke out, “my name is Sam and this is Dean. We’re - we’re brothers and -“ he looks at his brother, who nods. Looking back at his angry passenger, he continues in a soft whisper, “we’re actually not FBI agents. We hunt… things,” he said, face twisted as her scrunches into a frown.

“I don’t understand,” she said, head shaking. “You ‘hunt’ Things? What the hell does that mean?”

The driver, Dean, flipped around to face her better, “ghosts, vampires, demons, werewolf’s - that kind of thing. Your friend, I’m sorry, was probably killed by a werewolf.”

Sam scolded him, “Dean, gently.”

“I’m sorry,” he quietly shouted, and she felt that it was very insincere. She was proven right when he put his hands in the air and spoke again, “we don’t have time for this, Sam. It’s still out there, hurting people.”

“Is this some kind of prank?”

“No, this is very real,” Dean said, a little sympathy back in his words. “I am sorry, kid, but it’s the truth. Monsters are real and we kill them,” he said.

“No,” she said to herself, tears falling again. The taste of salt stood on her lips as she repeated the word.

“Look, Y/N,” Sam said, handing her a business card. “If you figure anything else out or hear anything about this - call this number to reach us and we’ll be right there, okay?”

She fumbled with the card, looking down at it but her mind was elsewhere. She was numb, lost and felt like she had nothing.

Finally, she spoke out, “I want to go with you.”

“No,” the two men said in unity.

She frowned, “please?”

“No,” Dean said, “no, Y/N, you know nothing about hunting - it’s too dangerous!”

“Then take me home,” she growled. “I’ll figure this out and do it on my own,” she said, crossing her arms and settling back against the seat.

Dean pointed a finger at her, “you’re not doing that either!”

“I do it with you or I do it alone,” she said, “either way, I’m getting revenge for my friend.”

Dean let out a sigh, he’s dealt with this kind before. The stubborn ones are always the most difficult. He rolls his eyes, turning the engine on and driving back to her house.

When they arrive, he turns back around. “Why don’t you sleep on it, huh? We’ll still be in town, so give us a call tomorrow and let us know what you want to do,” he said, merely just hoping she would comply.

She sighed, “okay.” Opening the doors, they lead her to the house and hugged in parting.

She knew her mind wouldn’t and couldn’t be changed. She was set on this new path, and she didn’t care how many bridges she burned on the way, she was going to figure out what goes bump in the night and do what these two do: no matter the cost.

[iamapoopmuffin]

Victims With Numbers

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death.

Chapter 14 of ?

Liang and Keiko had found their way back to the bathroom. The one taped shut with the charms that seared flesh. There had been no further sign of the ghost child, nor of the spirit that had saved Liang before. It truly seemed as if it were just the two of them in that building, though he was sure he could hear footsteps now and then. They'd found little to do, beyond circling the building a few times, trying to find something that might be of use. A way to open the main doors, a clue to where the others may have gone, just anything. At first, the only new thing Liang could note was that someone had scrawled over a flyer stuck to the wall. Before, the flyer had been uninteresting. A bake sale advertisement from before Heavenly Host closed its gates. When they passed the flyer for maybe the third time, it had blood on it. Not in splatters or drops either, no spray or lean. It hadn't just gotten there by mistake. No no, something was written there, scrawled in sloppy and shaky Chinese. Smeared in unsteady blood letters with several jittery mistakes, parts of the lettering reversed, trails where the writer's hand weakened and fell from the paper, and points where the letters went over the edge of the paper and onto the wall instead.

ART ROOM

FR

    IE

        ND

2 1 7 1 4

       111111111KNIIIIIII

DO   T  R S   H  OL E    R TH  

H E L P

It was most likely from the spirit from before. A message to someone, to tell them to meet in the art classroom, just as the spirit had told him verbally, as well as something indeterminable.

Perhaps this message was written for the lost little girl to find.

Perhaps there was someone else here he was supposed to meet with.

Perhaps it was something the man wrote before he died, and the message was never even meant for Liang.

But that begged the question of how many people would actually be here expecting to communicate with their friends in Chinese. From what he could tell, the majority of people trapped here were from Japan, which made sense. The building itself had been Japanese, and the story, the legend of the school and of the deaths was one circulated in Japan. So it must have been meant at the very least for a Chinese speaker. The next question was what did the numbers mean? If the writer was from Nanba, it made sense for him to signal to specific people with numbers, but the numbers used didn't specify any of the inmates, except for maybe Qi and himself. More than anything, that was unnerving. The jumble of 1's and unfinished hanzi only complicated the message further. Something the spirit, possibly, tried to write with the last of his strength, making it an important message, but one that he could not fully tell.

Shortly after this, Keiko's sharp eye had spotted something in one of the cabinets in the art classroom that Liang had overlooked. Beneath a needle-like implement sat a white board, a thin rectangle with writing on it. A charm. If he remembered correctly, there had been similar charms around the temple where he'd grown up. It was Keiko's opinion that the charm might counteract the ones on the bathroom door, and Liang, knowing that if done correctly such things indeed had the potential for great power, had agreed to retrieve it from the cabinet. The door was locked, but unlike the front door, this one could be broken or forced. They just needed something to help them cause a little extra damage. Some of the works of art around the room would have been enough to do the trick - the room still held works from when the room was in use. Children's paintings on the easels, clay and papier-mâché models and chalk doodles stacked in the corner. Some of these items were perfectly innocent creations made by children of the past, including the odd picture or piece that looked very phallic but was undoubtedly just a clumsy drawing of a fruit bowl or animal. Other pieces matched the dark atmosphere of the school. A painting of a person hanging by their neck. A piece of paper with a red scribble and the caption 'man went splat'. A model of a child's hand with what was undeniably blood staining the fingers. Depictions of pain and fear, some in far too much detail to be the work of a child. In the end, Liang had picked up one of the clay models, judging by the scoring a cactus, and used it to break the glass of the cabinet. Taking care not to cut himself, he lifted the charm from its place. There was a genuine power within it, he could feel it.

Which was why they'd chosen to return to the bathroom, charm in hand. No discussion, but no certainty. Liang carefully laid the charm before the doors before stepping back, one arm held out to the side to keep Keiko away from any potential danger ahead of them. At first, it seemed as if nothing was happening, and then he felt the heat. It came off the charm in waves, banishing the icy cold of the abandoned school. It quickly got warm enough that the two of them began to sweat. When the first of the warding spells on the door caught fire, Liang pulled Keiko back a few more steps and held a hand up for some degree of protection. By the time all the spells were alight, the fire burned too bright to look at.

"The school's gonna burn down!" Keiko squeaked in terror. "We can't get out! We're gonna die, we're gonna-!" She cut off and went into wordless screaming as Liang pulled her back even further, stepping in front of her to block her from the flames. He felt the heat against his back threaten to burn any skin it could find. He dared a glance back, to see how the fire was spreading, and was surprised to see that the fire seemed to not so much as skim the wood of the door. It burned away the paper spells, turning them to ash, and then sputtered out, taking all the heat with it at once.

Slowly, he turned to the door and took Keiko's hand, leading her forward as she, realising the heat was gone, opened her eyes and tried to calm herself down. He didn't look at her, but he could tell she was in tears and very, very afraid. When he reached out to the door, he found the handle was cool, as if it hadn't been exposed to the fire at all. The door slid open now without hesitation, and Liang stepped into the boys' bathroom.

The bathroom was in a better state than those he had seen before, at least. There were about five stalls, as in the girls' bathroom in the main building, but all of them were locked. From the top of the stalls, he could see ropes coming up and leading to some point along the high ceiling. He wasn't sure the ceiling was meant to be that high. A few urinals stood at a low height, blocked and flooded, but not broken. Usable. Between the urinals and the stalls, a young man with purple hair was curled up in foetal position, entire body tense and very, very still. From where he stood, Liang wasn't entirely sure if the young man was still alive or not. He was either petrified in fear in the truest sense of the phrase, or he was freshly deceased and entering a state of rigor mortis.

"Motomu?"

Liang looked to Keiko as she shuffled into the room. Her eyes were fixed on the purple-haired boy on the floor, who looked up in response to his name, his movements stiff and almost unnatural.

"K-...Kei-chan..." The boy, Motomu, got to his feet, and Keiko ran to him, sobbing. The two embraced, and Liang watched them, a smile on his face. At the very least, he could be happy they'd been reunited. He decided to hang back, let them have their moment for now, and tried not to listen to their conversation. They were fairly loud, though, and it was rather awkward.

"I was so scared, big brother!"

"I know. I'm sorry. But it's okay, Kei-chan. I won't leave you again for as long as you live. I won't let the ghosts here hurt you."

"Yui...Yui was-"

"I know. Makishi too. I saw them both. I bet it was that ghost girl holding the scissors. But I saw someone hurt someone else from their own school..." The elder brother took something from his back pocket and held it out behind Keiko's back, shifting his grip to angle the object slightly. "But don't worry. Big brother will take care of everything."

In a moment, Keiko was thrown to the floor, and Motomu pinned, his arm held high over his back. Liang's knee was digging into the boy's spine, keeping him down, and he had a vice-like grip on Motomu's wrist. In the boy's hand was a knife. By the looks of it, it was new, and a professional hunting knife, but had been used and hastily wiped clean. A faint smear of red still stained the surface. From where Liang had been standing, he'd seen, from the corner of his eye, Motomu preparing to plunge the knife into his sister's neck. A quick twist of the wrist, and the boy released the knife, allowing the inmate to kick it across the room.

"B...big brother?" Keiko managed from her place on the floor, staring at the boys in shock, tears forming in her eyes already. Liang's focus, of course, was on her attacker.

"You were going to attack your own sister?!"

Motomu, to his credit, completely ignored him. "Keiko! What's wrong with you? You just went off with a stranger? I get you were scared, but you don't know this guy! He could have hurt you! Look at him, look at this place! Look at what happened to Yui. For all you know, he could have done that."

"Care to explain why you're armed, and why you're turning your weapons on us?"

"Have you seen the corpses, genius?"

Fair point, at least for the first question. "Where did you get the knife from? Why did you attack your sister?"

Motomu twisted in his grip, trying to look him in the eye. "Why did you go to prison?"

The atmosphere seemed to drop even further. The suffocating darkness wrapped around the three of them, and Liang could sense the murderous intent beneath him increase.

"Motomu. We need to work together to find a way out of this place. We can't turn on each other. Every second we're here, we're in extreme danger. We need to know you don't add to that danger. Why did you point the knife at Keiko?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"You've barely answered any of mine."

"We can't get out of here."

"You've given up?"

"Not exactly."

"But you've turned to hurting others."

"You're no saint."

"What is wrong with you?"

Motomu twisted a little, trying to look Liang in the eye. There was something about the look in his eye that seemed very wrong. Something in there was cold, and dark, and tinged with insanity. He dropped his voice low, likely so his sister would not hear his next words. "Let me tell you this much, all you need to know. The spirits here are killing people, and those people are desperate to survive. But they can't. The ghosts will kill them, or they'll suffer some accident, or starve or dehydrate or sicken, or someone else will kill them. Someone like me, or maybe someone like you, right, Mr Criminal? Because I can see it in your face, you're no stranger to the stench of blood and rot, are you? You're not as disturbed as all the poor, innocent kids who come in here and die in some horrible, tragic way. And this place? It can twist your mind, poison your thoughts and make you want to kill. Not me, though, so don't worry.

"I've just always hated those people. Fake smiles. Platitudes. Pretence. Doesn't it all just make you so angry? But there's so many rules out there, rules that fall apart once you're in here. You can do whatever you want. Go crazy. Let loose all those nasty little thoughts and feelings. You don't have to serve your time or repent for anything you did wrong in the past. No prison, no punishment, just the freedom to suffer and cause suffering until your last breath."

Liang inhaled sharply, a thought coming to him during Motomu's words. "Those people you mentioned, the ones who had been killed...Yui and Makishi...did you do something to them?"

"It doesn't matter if you're killed by the ghosts or killed by me. Either way, you die."

[angelkurenai]

Die for a Laugh - Dean Winchester x Reader - Part 7

Title: Die for a Laugh

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Joker x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Could do a Jared Leto joker imagine where Sam and Dean are on a hunt for the joker and he takes a certain liking to the reader, the pairing can be whatever you wish, thanks!

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Chapters 4&5 here! l Read Chapter 6 here!

You crashed your lips to his and actually kissed Mr J.

If this was where you knew you'd end up when all of this started, dressed all fancy, in Joker's club not pointing a gun at him but actually pressing your lips to his and kissing him with such relief and at the same time passion as you'd only dreamed of doing with Dean. But this wasn't Dean and for some... odd, very odd, reason you didn't mind it. Despite what every part of logic screamed at you, you felt safe and you felt good with Mr J. Because you didn't feel as if this was a criminal who'd killed thousands but only the innocent man of the photo.

A small growl left his lips as you threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged at it. You pressed yourself harder on him, his hands wrapped around your figure, as you bit down on his lower lip he also gave your hips a squeeze. Just as you expected him he didn't miss a second to kiss back. His lips, although the kiss was hesitant at first and almost shy (at least from your part), turned into a more rough and definitely desperate one.

You didn't know what took over you but somehow you couldn't pull back, only wrapped your legs around his waist and he didn't miss a second to take hold of your thighs as well and pinning you down on the couch. You arched your back up for as much contact as possible as your lips moved frantically against his. He kissed you just passionately, smiling into the kiss at the small moan that left yours when he licked your lower lip. 

You didn't even wait a second to grand him access into your mouth and judging by the soft rumble of his chest and the sound of pleasure he made he liked it a lot. Your lungs screamed for air but you couldn't find it in yourself to pull away from him, only messily fumble with his shirt as you tried to unbutton the few last buttons. You let out a frustrated groan and only took hold of the shirt and ripped it open, earning a dark chuckle from him. His hot breath mixed with yours as your hands roamed each other's figures.

However the moment didn't last long when there was a knock on the door. A frustrated growl left his lips but he didn't stop kissing you and you did nothing to push him away. When there was a second one he knew he had to pull away, and he did, but he took a moment to stare down at you with dark piercing blue eyes. But unlike the first time you met him, you didn't feel scared in the least bit by the look on his face. Maybe something else scared you at the moment, more, and it was your own self.

“I'll be right back.” he liked his lips, giving you a grin “Wait for me, my Queen.” he ran his thumb over your lower lip and with slightly wide eyes you gave him a weak nod. Much to your surprise he leaned down and kissed your cheek, tenderly almost, before pulling away with another grin.

He went to answer the door almost shameless about the way he looked but you curled on the couch, hiding from their sight. Your heart was still hammering in your chest and the adrenaline still seemed to pump through your veins but somehow when you weren't looking at him you caught yourself calming down and the realization set in, very hard at that. A shaky gasp left your lips as you took a look at yourself and your surroundings, your eyes widened. You blinked, a tear rolling down your cheek but not because of what had happened downstairs but because of what had happened a couple minutes ago.

You heard footstep and a frustrated groan before you saw Mr J come next to you and plop down on the couch. He threw his head back – making you stare for a moment and scarily enough your heart skipped a beat as an all-too-familiar feeling set at the pit of your stomach – before looking at you with a smirk, which thankfully snapped some sense into you. He reached out for you but you caught yourself recoiling, which made his eyes darken but not in the good kind of way, or at least the way you'd like.

Wait- what?!

“I- I'm sorry, Mr J, but I- I...” you hesitated as if you didn't want to say it, as if you didn't want to do it “I need to go.”

You saw his expression change for the worse and you were almost ready to take it back. But not only did you know he wasn't going to hurt but also the rational part of you still had the strength to tell you that you should be away from him at the moment before you did something you'd regret very much the next time you faced Dean.

“Go?” he questioned in a rough voice and you swallow thickly.

“Y-yes, I need to go.” you looked away before you could find yourself back under his influence, he was like some sort of drug to you and you now saw it “I'm really sorry.” you whispered hastily, getting up from the couch.

Meeting be damned. You didn't even care to think about who he was working, much less get to see the demon himself. You needed to leave, right now.

“(Y/n)” the effect his voice had on you was surprising but you did stop on your tracks. You heard him approach you before he was standing in front of you, taking hold of your chin and making you look at him. He could see the regret in your eyes, he could read right through you, and you were scared what could happen.

“I- I'm sorry.” you whispered, having no idea why you were really apologizing “I just need time to... get over it.” he probably thought it was about the asshole but honestly it was more about him “Besides, you have a meeting, don't you? I don't think I will be in any state to attend it.”

“There wouldn't be any meeting if you just asked it. Besides-” he grinned, leaning down so that his breath was ghosting over your lips; making you dizzy once more “I wasn't really planning on a meeting after that and you oooh you didn't seem to have it in mind either.”

“I...” you hesitated but pressed your lips to his in a smaller kiss “I promise I will make up for it, puddin'.” you surprised yourself with how effortless it came from your lips along with a small smirk, as if again under his control you found another part of yourself taking over - a part you didn't know even existed, but it was enough to make a big grin spread on his lips.

“Oh you have a deal, my Queen.”

~*~

You tried your best to wipe the tears away during the entire ride. Not because you didn't want Frost to see, you had started feeling very comfortable around the man surprisingly so, but because you didn't want Sam to see the distressed look on your face. And that was mainly because you didn't know how to justify it. How could you tell him you were scared how different you caught yourself acting around the man? How could you tell him you were feeling yourself sympathize for the one and only Joker when you were supposed to be doing your best to find and kill him? Let's not get started with all the lies too. That was bad as it was.

Nut nobody could have prepared you for what was to come, and that was so much more worse.

You froze in your place, eyes wide as you pushed the door open. A gasp left your lips and you knew realized you were in deep trouble when instead of warm expecting hazel eyes you met furious burning green eyes when the man actually glared at you.

“Ah and there she is!” he said full of sarcasm and anger.

“Dean” you breathed out shakily, glancing at Sam who gave you an apologetic smile.

“Well? Aren't you going to ask what I'm doing here this early? Bet you didn't expect it, through you'd be done before I came back huh?” his voice was low but it was so much worse, you'd prefer if he just yelled at you. It would make the guilt lessen at least a bit.

“N-no, Dean I- I was-”

“Spare me.” he growled “If you want to say a date then Sam's already tried that and we all know that's a big fat-ass lie. You've been working on the fucking case behind my fucking back!” your heart leapt to your throat in fear at his words “First that dude that would be a lead, whom you apparently forgot to tell us about, and now this! Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?!”

You took a step back in fear, but it couldn't surpass how bad you felt for lying and even more kissing the enemy “But I- I'm doing this for-”

“What? Us? Are you doing this because you want to help despite what I've said? What kind of help will it be if we lose you in the process?!” he snarled “But of course you know very well what my opinion would be, that's why you kept it a secret hm?” he scoffed, making you feel as if some had stabbed you in the heart.

“D, please.” tears welled up in your eyes “Hear me out.”

He huffed, shaking his head, pacing like a lion in a cage “But you couldn't do this alone, could you? No, you have a partner in crime. My own brother decided to cover up for you!”

“Sam's not responsible for any of this, Dean. I'm the only one that-”

“And you planned everything out! Everything-” he threw his arms in the air “Only so that I wouldn't realize a fucking thing! So that you could keep more secrets, so I wouldn't realize you were gone tonight as well!”

“Dean” Sam spoke up in a warning voice.

“But I ruined it all, didn't I?” his voice held so much bitterness “When I decided to come back earlier because I thought about you! Because I got worried as I have been all of these days! Because I thought 'Hey, get her the chocolate, some snacks and pick a movie to cheer her up!' but turns out you surprised me after all, didn't you?”

“Dean, I think that's enough. She didn't want to-”

“No! No you don't get a say in this, especially you Sam! You know, you know just how much I meant when I said I didn't want her getting in caught up in all of this without me there and yet you let her do her thing! Alone on top of all!”

“I wouldn't put her in danger if I knew she couldn't handle-”

“Handle what? What?! This is not a monster, not our kind of monster, Sam, how the hell will she know how to handle any of it if- if she runs into him unprepared at that!?” this time he actually roared and a whimper left your lips as you covered your mouth, eyes wide and watery.

Sam instantly looked at you with worry before warning his brother gently once more “Dean, please... calm down. (Y/n) is family but she is also very skilled-”

“To fight monsters! But this dude? He could just put a bullet in her head without her even seeing it coming! And that's not the worst of all, what is even worse is the fact that I'd have no fucking idea about it!”

“Dean we- (Y/n) would never keep something so important from you if she didn't know she could do it better this way. Please just-” Sam glanced at you as you were holding onto the table for support and struggling to breath “Calm down.”

“Stop saying it! I'm not going to, and you know damn well why! So-” he turned to face you but your eyes were casteddown “How many times? How many times and for how long have you been sneaking out like this behind my back?”

“Dean come on! She can barely breath, stop with all these accusations! It's not as if she cheated on you, for the love of!” you had never been more thankful to Sam for his support because truth was there was no way any words could come out of your mouth as the guilt killed you slowly on the inside. He was right and you knew it because maybe he didn't see it but you'd gotten yourself in so much trouble than you could deal with and sooner or later you'd pay for it.

Dean scoffed, giving him a dark smirk “Could have been better than even trying to go after this monster.” he hissed and you squeezed your eyes at how much that actually felt like a stab to the heart.

“Dean-”

“Spare me. I've already gotten my answer, plenty of times. Too many to actually count.” he swallowed thickly, nodding his head bitterly before taking hold of his jacket “Hell, if you think you can do it on your own and risk your life so carelessly-go ahead.”

“Wha- Dean, no wait! Where are you going?!”

“Out for a fucking drink. Then I'll sleep in the Impala, or get another room for good since apparently we're not on the same page. And you don't need to bother. I know I won't.” his words sounded so strained, filled with so much because of your betrayal - and if only he knew the entire truth - but he said them nonetheless before you heard the door slam shut, making you wince.

Sam's lips parted, ready to stop his brother, but he didn't get the chance to. The moment he heard a broken sob leave your lips though, his head snapped in your direction. No sooner did you feel your body start shaking than you felt his hands on your shoulders, trying to help you stand on your feet.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” he gave you a small shake, before he cupped your cheek and made you face him. Although truth was you could see so much through your blury vision.

“No, no please. Please, don't do this to me too.” he pleased with you “Try to take a deep breath in, calm down yes? He-Dean didn't mean this, he's gonna get over this, it will just take him some time that's all. But you- you gotta be calm to explain everything to him, he can't see you like this, he-”

“He doesn't want to see me, Sam!” you screamed, pushing him away before more sobs left your body “That's completely different. H-he doesn't even want to face me after what I did. Did you even see the betrayal on his face? I- I hurt him, I lied to him, I-” you walked with wobbly legs, slumping down on the bed, kicking off your shoes and brings your knees up to wrap your arms around them.

“(Y/n), please-” he sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and this time you accepted it because you were too weak to fight, too busy crying and choking on sobs “I don't like to admit this but we've always kept secrets from each other, we've had our ups and downs and there have always been too many fights. But we got over it because that's what family does, and we are family. And family forgives each other.”

“But not in this case. Not this time. Not with me. He may have forgiven you and he will forgive you because you are his brother b-but not me. Not after what I've done.” you whimpered and he squeezed you, rubbing your back for comfort.

“What does that mean, (Y/n)?” a frown set on his face and you could hear the suspicion in his voice. Pretty much like every time you spoke the last couple of days.

“It's- it was so obvious on his face, Sam. He felt betrayed a-and he had every right to. I betrayed him like I never have, I- I betrayed the both of you. I don't deserve forgiveness not just from him but from the both of you. I- I don't even deserve this comfort, when I just-”

“(Y/n)” he cut you off, clenching his jaw and you slowly looked up with glossy eyes to meet a more concerned look than you'd expect and a certainly suspicious one “What happened?”

“I-” you blinked, looking down at your hands “You will hate me for it.”

“I will try to understand.” he said gently but you scoffed, smiling bitterly as you shook your head.

“No, Sam. You won't, because you simply can't... and because I've lied to you too. I've kept secrets, done things behind your back that Dean didn't want me to and would loath me for. This lead I've had is-” you bit your lower lip, wiping your tears hastily as more sobs shook your body.

Sam's eyes hardened as his back straightened and his chest puffed out before he whisper in a low rough voice “...What did he do to you?”

Only an excuse came to your mind as he looked at you “He just... got handsy, but I put him in his place. Turns out he was just an asshole and he had no direct connection to Joker so I just-”

“I don't mean the lead, I know very well... there wasn't one from the very first moment, ok? I mean him, (Y/n).” he said seriously and your heart leapt to your throat as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Wh-who?” your voice was hoarse.

“Him. The man you've been seeing all this time.” his hand fell from your shoulder as you got ready to protest.

“S-Sam-”

“Joker” he said the name and your heart did an involuntary flip “He is the one you've been seeing all this time, isn't he? You got a way in from the beginning, from the moment we went to Wayne's place. It was you in that dress in the club with him.” and it wasn't a question but a statement that made your blood run cold. You scooted away from him for fear that he'd just push you away and you couldn't take your best friend rejecting you too. As if hurting the man you loved so deeply wasn't enough already.

A tear rolled down your cheek “Oh- when did you realize it?” you choked out and he gave you a sympathetic smile that he hoped would ease you down.

“The second time I saw you sneak out to meet with him. You remember? That's when you asked me to help you because you... were getting close to finding him but Dean wouldn't approve.”

“I had already found him by then... it was the only thing I could say that could be true but you wouldn't realize it.” you fidgeted with your hands “Sam, gosh, I'm so sor-”

“No” he placed a hand over yours making your eyes widen “No, don't apologize. You meant good, (Y/n), I know that because I know you. We've all done things we didn't want to, dangerous things at that, to save innocent people and to help our family. You're doing the same, that's all.”

“Sam h-how can you do this? How can you justify me after all I've done? I've lied non-stop, I've betrayed you, I've been with the enemy behind your back, I- I've-” you stopped yourself as he tilted his head with a frown, giving your hands a squeeze.

“You can tell me, I won't hate you. I promise.” he whispered as tenderly as he could, always being a caring older brother to you whenever you needed him even if there was no blood relation.

“I don't deserve this.” you shut your eyes and he didn't miss the chance to wrap his arms around you again comfortingly.

“Sssh please, don't.” he squeezed you “(Y/n)... what did he do to you?”

“That's the thing, Sam. He didn't... I did.” you fisted his flannel in your hands “s-Sam I... I kissed him. I've... gotten so close to him I actually kissed him.”

“Wh-what?”

You pulled away, slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see utter shock written over his face but thankfully no anger “I'm scared, Sam. I'm so scared of what's happening to me that I can barely explain.”

His lips parted, ready to say something, but he decided against it as he hugged you closer and whispered “It's ok, we'll figure it out (Y/n/n) the way we always do.”

~One week later~

“It's not as if he'd going to listen to me, heck even face me.” you mumbled, looking down at your feet as you had your arms wrapped around your knees once more.

“You haven't tried yet to know that.” Sam tried to reason, looking up from his computer “Besides, you owe him that, don't you think? (Y/n), you haven't see Joker in a week, I think that should be enough proof that you are willing to listen to Dean... because you care more about him and his opinion.”

“We're lucky he's got business outside the country, otherwise he'd have looked for me and we'd be in much more trouble.” you mumbled, biting your lower lip.

“But he asked you to follow and you declined... despite everything that has happened. And Dean needs to know this, trust me he'll appreciate it more than... more than he'll be mad. Hey, maybe jealous even more to care about anything else for a moment.” he breathed out a laugh and your head snapped up as you raised an eyebrow.

“Come again?” you blinked “Why woould he be...”

“Look, I'm not getting involved in this-” he shook his head “All I'm telling you is talk to Dean, it's time for him to find out everything. That way... you'll be able to figure out things yourself. The lies and secrets are not helping, and there are still far too many between you. Maybe, in some way who knows, that's what lead you straight into Joker's arms in the end.”

You blinked, biting your lip “...No. No, that much I am sure about. I haven't figured it out yet and I- I dread the moment I will see him again because I know his control on me is strong but somehow I still feel that's all me.”

“Well, then-” he ran his fingers through his hair “A part of you, at least. But Dean knows the whole you better than any of us, better than you know yourself too. So you need to talk to him, no matter how mad he is or how mad he can get. After all, we still all agree on one thing: Joker needs to die, right?”

You didn't look him in the eyes and gave him a very weak nod. Logic was speaking more at the moment, it was easy when he wasn't around, but somehow you still felt a tug at your heart as you thought about him that didn't ease your worries.

“Well, good. Then that should be enough for now.” he nodded his head.

“Sam, are you serious?' you huffed “Dean avoids me worse than the plague, he's started making a small talk with you but he won't even glance my way when we're in the same room! And no he actually hasn't said a single word to me in a week, that's how stubborn your brother is! There's no chance he'll care to listen.”

“He will. Because, and whether he likes to admit it or not, he does care. About you, I mean, more than he cares about holding a grudge or trying to prove a point.” he smirked softly but you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It's not like he's in his room anyway. When he's not working his ass off trying to find J, he's at the bar. Plus, I heard Baby's engine when he left.” you shrugged and he raised an eyebrow for a second.

“You really seem to know a whole lot more about his whereabouts even if he's not in the same room hm?'

“I-” you gaped before with a huff you threw a pillow at him “Fuck you, Sam. I'll just go at the bar and try to talk to him, but if he doesn't even want to face him I'm not making another move. I'll prove my point and then be back crying my ass off and eating chocolate like every night this week.” you shrugged as if it was nothing but Sam knew you all too well to see right through you.

“Who knows, maybe you won't be. Maybe... he'll listen to you after all.” but he wasn't sure about it either as you got up from your bed and took a pair of clothes to change in.

“Sure, sure. Try to sound a little more convinced.” you mumbled and he offered you a small laugh.

“I mean, hey my brother's weird. He finds you sexy in those old pjs, so you could always go there in them if you want to have better chances.” he shrugged and your head peaked through the slightly open bathroom door to glare at him before disappearing.

“...Did he ever, like, really tell you though?'

~*~

You walked into the bar not sure of your surroundings. You kept fidgeting with anything you could get your hands on. From your clothes to your hair to your fingers. Your nerves were getting the best of you and, pretty much like the entire week, you've been trying to come up with a way to start a conversation with him. Anything to get him to talk.

Not having to face Mr J, although it made you feel almost empty in a way, it gave you the chance to clear your mind. To think some things more straight and see what the right and wrong choice was. You had decided on what you should do but you still had not decided on what you were going to actually do. Even with the distance he still seemed to have some sort of hold over you that you dreaded to think how much stronger it could get if you spent any more time with him.

Shaking your head you decided to brush the thought of and focus on the man that you'd always be sure had a hold of your heart. You needed to explain everything to him, you didn't know how, but you were determined to undo all of this for the sake of your heart and sleep, at the very least. It seemed like whenever Dean wasn't in your bed – motel room or bunker – sleep would always evade you and even if it was the hot summer night it felt like the coldest winter night.

Scanning the place you were able to spot him by the bar on a stool, downing another drink as he gave the barwoman a flirty smile as a thank you for the next one. You felt a pang in your chest at the way she smiled back at him but decided to ignore it. You took a deep breath and gathered all of your courage to make your way towards him, with each step unfortunately your courage lessening until it disappeared when you stood next to him, he did see you out of the corner of his eyes but made no move. You were sure he'd taken notice of you but you cleared your throat softly.

“Dean?” you tilited your head softly to the side but he made no move other than to drink his whiskey in a go.

“Leave” he grumbled, placing his empty glass down harshly and you winced at his tone “I'm working.” those were the first words he's told you in days and he didn't even look at you.

“But-” you started but didn't get the chance to complete your sentence when you heard a couple cars pull over and your attention was instantly on the window. Your eyes widened at the sight in front of you and the only thing you could do was frantically look between the two of them.

Between Dean and Mr J.

~~~

@imagine-that-100 @arikas5744 @akshi8278 @captainemwinchester @mickey-m399 @easelweasel @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @musicaltheatrejunkie @winchestergirl607 @castielsgrace-idjits @carinaryen @thegrungequeer @angieptt @chevycastiel1967 @waywardwolfdiaries @juggysgirlfriend @rochyu @brittany-workman @i-just-need-a-nap-please @jessikared97 @panic-angel3314 @gh0stgurl @spn-marvel-nerd @warwithfeels @lexiiiii28

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Intact (Dean Winchester)

Pairing: Dean/Fem!Mermaid!Reader Words: 1500+ Warning(s): Drowning, slight nudity, self doubt A/N: I hope you enjoy. sorrry the ending seems a bit rushed, I finished this at like 1 am on monday when I have s c h o o l. rip me but i love writing at unreasonable times. Request: can you write one where you are a mermaid living with the boys (cas knows but keeps it a secret) and has to save Dean on a case by transforming? the reader is scared dean will hate her but confesses to loving her?

   You look out of the back window of the impala with many mix emotions filling your being. The Winchester brothers and your were off on a case involving an angry spirit. The ghost wasn't was making you feel so conflicted, it was the fact the ghost was known for 'mysteriously' drowning people. You were a mermaid and the boys didn't know. Castiel knew of course but he kept it a secret for you, which you were grateful, but always insisted you'd tell them. You didn't worry much about Sam's reaction, you knew he would come around and treat you the same. You were scared about Dean's reaction. You were scared he would be disgusted at you.  

   You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. As much as you wanted to avoid this hunt, you couldn't let the boys go in. If one of them were to drown, you didn't care if your secret was revealed, you'd save them. You were willing to sacrifice your secret to save them.  

   "Hey (Y/N)?" Sam's voice cut through your thoughts. "Are you okay?"  

   "Y-yeah... Just a bit nervous about the hunt." You admitted. At least you told most the truth.  

   "Nervous? You're never nervous for a hunt." Dean chuckled while glancing back at you with those apple green eyes throw the mirror.  

   "I'm just not too found of a drowning ghost is all. Large bodies of water freak me out."  

   "Well don't worry, I'll keep you safe." Dean winked, making you blush and go back to looking out of the window.  You mentally sigh and rest your head against the window. Dean was something else in your heart, you loved him to bits; you love his flaws and all.  

   "Just get some rest, (Y/N)." Sam gave you a smile before turning back to the front. You decided to take his advice, maybe some rest will help calm your nerves.  

   You watched in fear alongside Sammy as Dean cautiously reached the edge of the lake, trying to talk sense into the woman haunting the small town. She died horribly, drowned by her mother in a fit of rage and jealousy, the poor girl wanted to move on but her feelings of rage kept her bound as a vengeful spirit. Dean and Sam wanted to try to get the poor girl to move on her own, no salt and burn. There is moment where she seemed ready to move on, whatever Dean was saying, she was seeming to take his words. Her spirit seemed to be like how she was before, her tan skin slightly pale and her rich brown eyes stared at the eldest Winchester innocently.  

   Then things switched, her spirit flashed to one with greenish grey skin, her hair seemed like a slimy dark green and her eyes were a sunken in grey.  

   "Dean!" Sam and you shouted, tears filled your glossy (e/c) orbs. The vengeful spirit raised her hand and with enough power, flung Dean into the deepest part of the lake.  

   "Sam burn her bones! I'll go and save Dean." You took in a deep breath and started stripping off your clothes, preparing to transform into your other form, only leaving on your bra. Right now, you didn't care if Sammy could see your rear end, you needed to save Dean.

   "What the hell are you doing-?!"

   "Just do it!" You take a running start while Sam was frozen in fear, trying to figure out what the hell you were doing. Before your toes could touch the shore line of the dark lake, you leaped into a dive position. You hit the water and felt your legs fuse together into your beautiful (color) tail. The gills on your neck formed right away, allowing you to breathe correctly, your fingers were connected with webbing and your eyes were adjusted to the water.

   You use your strong tail to propel yourself to where Dean was thrown, searching frantically for the Winchester. You move some water plants from the bottom of the lake and spot Dean, barely keeping his eyes open as the ghost kept him pinned to the rocky bottom. You growled and you were about to use your tail to swat the ghost but she somehow burned away into nothing.  

   You wasted no time, you swam to Dean and hooked your arms underneath his, pulling his body close to yours before propelling straight up as fast as you could. You breached the surface with barely enough time for Dean to start coughing up water, his muscular arms wrap around you as you did the same.

   "What the hell?" He croaked, his apple green eyes search around the lake. "How in the..." Then his eyes landed on your neck. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the gills, until your tail bumped into his legs, causing him to look down into the water. Dean looked back at your face with an unreadable look.

   "Dean..." Your eyes tear up.

   "Get us back to Sam." Was all he said, making you look away with shame. You or him didn't say anything as you helped get the both of you back to the shore, where Sam waited patiently. Once Dean was able to stand on his own, you let go of him. He walked out of the water and passed Sam; you weren't sure what he was planning.

   "So... a mermaid huh?" Sam asked with a crooked smile as you pulled yourself closer to the shore, to the point where your stomach brushed against the floor.

   "Yeah... Can you help lift me out of the water?"

   "Yeah of course." He stepped into the water as you rolled yourself onto your back. The younger Winchester hooked an arm under your tail and one wrapped around your torso. "You know your tail is pretty slimy."

   "I put fish oil on it once a week to keep the shine." You weakly chuckled but were still upset that Dean seemingly rejected your true self. A tear fell down your cheek as you looked away from the tall man.

   "Don't worry, (Y/N). I'm sure he will come around eventually." Sam placed you back on the ground. "So how do you transform back?"

   "I just need to get dried off but I'll be buck ass nude."

   "Well then I'll get you a blanket from the car hold on-"

   "Already got one!" You heard Dean shout from behind you. You turn yourself and watch Dean walk back with a plaid blanket in his arms. "Sammy can you give us a second?"

   "Sure, sure!" Sam gave you a wink before he made his way to the Impala. Dean draped the soft blanket around your shoulders while sitting down next to you. Unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him.

   "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did. I wasn't really sure what to say in the moment." He sincerely apologized.  

   "I'm sorry for not telling you, I just wasn't sure how you would react."

   "Look, I don't care that you’re a mermaid, I actually find it kind of hot." His laugh vibrated through him. "You're still you, and I will still love you. With or without the fishtail or gills."

   "Dean, I um... I love you too."

   "Really? Always thought you liked Sammy more." He smiled at you, his arm tightened. You grinned back at him as you felt your body begin to shift back to usual. You wiggle your toes and check your hands and neck to make sure things were back. You lean your head against him, enjoying the sunset and momentary silence around the air.

   "So... can I call you Ariel?"

   "Way to ruin the moment."

   "You shore you didn't like it?"

   "Dean I swear to god-"

   "You mean swear to cod?" You groan but laugh at his puns.

   "Just- Let's get back to the Impala. I'd like to put my clothes back on." Dean helped you stand on your feet, tying the blanket to around your hips. You grab your clothes and put them back on, shimming your underwear and jeans on underneath the blanket.  

   "You ready?"

   "Yep!" You untie the blank and  place it on your shoulder as you intertwine your fingers with Deans. As you walked towards Sam, who was leaning against the black car, he had a knowing smile on his face. You looked towards Dean who looked to you, a smile on your slightly flushed face. He leaned down and placed a quick peck to your hairline, giving your hand a quick squeeze in the process.

   "Love you, Squirrel." You smirked, knowing he didn't like the nickname.

   "Yeah, love you too, Ariel."

[raisingsupergirl]

It’s Not Easy Hunting on God’s Time

Until recently, I can't remember a single time when I was mad at God. Not even when my dad died. Maybe I had been too numb at the time, but I think I realized that 1) we live in a broken world, so sometimes bad things happen to good people and 2) God works things for his good, so Dad's death might eventually be worked for some good, too. What is meant to happen will happen. But whatever my mindset, I never blamed my heavenly Father. Which is why it seems so ridiculous that inheriting my dad's rifle, deciding to go hunting with it, and then not seeing any deer for a few years would have such a negative impact on my faith. But it did. And it wasn't just a few years. It was seven. In a row. Seven opening weekends of sitting out in the cold, frozen toes and frozen nose, aching back, aching knees, eyes and ears on high alert, finger on the trigger, and… nothing (you can read about my 2016 trip here). If you're superstitious, it was seven years of bad luck. If you're religious, it was seven years of completion. Either way, it left me feeling like a complete failure. And this year, it was all or nothing.

It's hard to describe why such a silly thing was so important to me. I had a great childhood. I've never been seriously sick or impaired. I got into a great physical therapy program at a great college. I have an amazing wife, amazing kids, and an amazing job. Almost everything I've set my heart on, God has given me… almost. But there are two things he's withheld. The first, as I've said, is this pursuit of the whitetail deer. But it's more than that. It's the social aspect of coming back to society every season empty-handed. It's talking to friends, patients, and family so often about this thing that I've never really experienced. It's failing at something so "easy" that so many other people excel at year after year. And then there's the other thing that God has withheld from me: having one of my novels published. And it comes with all of the same emotions and frustrations, except for the "so many other people excelling at" part. Traditional publication is a crazy competitive market. I know that. But it doesn't make nearly a decade of rejection any easier, especially considering the amount of hours and effort I've poured into it.

And so, those two things were tied together in my heart and mind. As an adult, I'm so thankful for everything I have, but I've only really "asked" God for two things: a deer and a book. And before this past weekend, it seemed like he was intent on giving me everything except what I asked for. And I'd become royally fed up. One more year. One more chance to pull the trigger. One more time packing up for deer camp, setting up the cabin, firing up the wood stove, warming up the deer chili, feeding the fire every two hours throughout the night, and still waking up frozen at 4:30 a.m. only to sit in a tree, freezing my butt off while every sane person I knew was still asleep in a warm bed. After this, I was giving up. And I let God know it. So, with the scene set and without further adieu, lets begin the hunt.

I make sure I have a round chambered in my rifle, then click off my safety. This is my first year in this new stand, and even though it's more comfortable than my last one, it feels dangerously unstable—not something I want fifteen feet off of the ground. It's still night, but the moon is full. The woods are quiet except for a far-off rooster. Apparently his clock's a little off. And then I hear it—the first crack of gunfire breaks the silence. Someone has shot a deer before the sun came up. The moon is full, so visibility is good, but I think it's still illegal. And it definitely frustrates me. Another year of sitting, waiting, and listening as the forest rings with everyone else's success.

As the sun's first rays swell over the ridgeline to my right, I don't dare move. My knees are already aching, but I refuse to straighten them. I'm not taking the chance of scaring off a deer. There will be no lingering questions this year. I won't play on my phone. I won't stand up to stretch. I won't…

I jerk my head up and realize I'm leaning forward more than expected. When did I close my eyes? Apparently my body and mind still aren't ready to be awake. Probably has something to do with staying up until midnight catching up with my brother. But that's no excuse. What if a buck walked by while my eyes were closed? What if I had fallen out of my stand to my death? Both possibilities feel equally horrible at the moment. So I straighten slowly, squeeze my rifle a little closer, and start scanning the landscape.

I'm left handed, so the ridge to my right will be the best place for me to shoot, except that the sun has now begun peaking through the distant trees, effectively blinding me to anything in that direction. In front of me, a tangle of brush still hasn't lost its leaves, effectively blinding me to anything beyond it. To my left, another ridge leads down into a valley, and it's alive with squirrels and birds—even one of those huge, endangered woodpeckers, banging its head against tree after tree. I deeply relate to him at the moment. But, as I said, if I see a deer in that direction, I'll have to flip my gun to a right-handed position, which I can do, but not without a lot of noise and movement. And so, the pessimism starts setting in.

Then I get my first text from my brother at 8:36am: "Seen probably 20 does already! No joke!"

My response: :(

But it galvanizes me. They're here. I'm not like my brother. I'm not waiting for the monster buck. I'll shoot Bambi if he walks in front of me. And those twenty does that my brother saw are only a couple ridges away from me. At least one of them has to come my way, right? Thirty minutes of heavy hunting goes by. I am Deer Slayer. My movements are so slow that they're imperceptible. My ears are sharp, and my eyes are sharper. I'm ready. But, as always, I detect every squirrel and bird for a quarter mile, but no deer. Not one. And then the frustration returns, and it's worse than it's ever been. And now I send up my first prayer. It's not one of praise, thanksgiving, or supplication. It's an accusation. "You delivered Abraham a lamb to sacrifice instead of his son. Where's my freakin' deer?"

I don't know where the thought comes from, but something about it rings true. I don't often ask God for things that impact other people. We have free will, and it seems that God would be loath to infringe on that free will just to answer some selfish prayer from me. And if he did, what if it negatively impacted someone else? But here, in these woods, changing the path of an animal seems so simple. Just make it walk in front of me! What's the big deal?

But there's something deeper going on here. I'm actually angry with God. And that's insane. I'm angry about not getting published yet. I'm angry about not getting a deer yet. I'm angry that it feels like God isn't listening. It feels so cliché—so #newChristianprobs. But it's what I'm going through, and I can't ignore it. Instead, I actually start listening. "Be still and know that I am God." Here I am, God, arms wide open. Listening. Waiting. What is it you've been waiting for? What am I supposed to learn? When will be the right time?

Despite my frustration, the forest is enchanted. It's still and quiet, but also bursting with life. It's ancient and new at the same time. My ears are ringing with the silence. And I'm still waiting. I ask God a question, a supremely honest question, and say, "If you want me to do this thing, send a deer and allow me to shoot it." Yes, I'm making deals with God. I'm still not certain that he's listening. And then I get another text from my brother: 

Are you freaking kidding me? Now God's just screwing with me. And my bargaining gets even more demanding. "Okay, if you want me to do this other thing, send me a deer and allow me to shoot it in the next five minutes."

I'm desperate. I'm borderline hysterical. But I am still Deer Slayer. Four minutes and thirty seconds go by (I know because I'm counting Mississippis). Nothing. And then, up on the ridge to my right—the perfect spot—stands a doe. Electricity shoots through me. My hands are shaking. My heart is a sledgehammer against my ribcage. My frosty breath is ragged. I slowly creep my gun into position. The doe is walking. No, it's gliding, silent like a ghost. Not loud like the squirrels and the birds. My ears will be no help. I will follow it with my eyes. Lead it. Train my sights on the next clearing. The doe walks through the break in the trees, but it's farther away than I had anticipated. No shot. I swing my sights to the last clearing before the ridge turns away at the bottom of the valley. Last chance. I wait. I steady my breath. The doe never comes. I glance back up from the open sights. No movement. My heart stutters. Reality widens from a pinpoint to the whole landscape once again. God is, indeed, screwing with me. 

But a spark of hope remains. There are deer here! And I've heard countless stories of waiting for the buck trailing the doe. So, again, I wait. Watching the top of the ridge. Occasionally glancing down to see if the doe will miraculously wander into my valley. But mostly I watch the ridge. Though, I do take the time to text my brother at 10:08 that I, "had my finger on the trigger for a doe but never had her in my sights L"

I begin to falter again. There's no buck coming. There probably wasn't ever even a doe. I've completely lost it. And now I'm done. At least for now. I’m cold and hungry. And at 10:17, I start texting my brother, "Wanna go back and—"

I glance at the bottom of the valley—the place I'd expected the doe to come out earlier—and I freeze. Another deer. Bigger than the one before. I can't tell if it's a buck or a doe. Too much brush between us. Too far away. Fire ignites within me. Not today, deer. This ends now! My hand shakes as I fumble with my phone and drop it back into my camo coveralls. My gun is already propped on the stand's rail, in position. I slide my hands around it. I slip my finger over the trigger. I take a quick breath. The deer is starting to move. Only a few steps, but it will only take a few more before it disappears. The shot is still not clear, but it's the best it's going to get. Open sights. Just under 100 yards. Put the center prong in the middle of the circle, just behind the front shoulder—the ribs. The heart and lungs. Squeeze the trigger.

The sound rings out like thunder. The deer bleats. The sound chills me. It falls. A second deer—a doe—bolts just in front of me, not more than thirty yards away, from left to right, up the ridge. My senses are confused. Was it the same deer? Did I miss it? No, I saw it fall. That must have been a different one, somehow hidden in plain sight before. How many deer have I just not seen over the years? How many shots has God hidden from my eyes?

But this one is down, I'm sure of it. I'm still shaking. I saw it fall. I heard its death cry. Deer don't do that, at least from what I've heard. My phone vibrates. I hold it in front of me so I can still keep the spot where the deer fell in my vision. The text is from my brother, asking if the shot had been mine 

The rest is a blur. We agree that I'll stay in my stand and watch the spot while he packs his stuff up and heads my way. Doubt creeps in again. It was the same deer that ran up my way after the shot. I missed him. God is screwing with me, yet again. But after years of waiting (eight years now, to be exact), I see my brother's orange hat bob through the woods, and his voice echoes to me like a dream. "Big doe."

I melt. Emotion floods my brain, my heart, my entire being. God wasn't screwing with me. He wasn't bargaining. He was listening. Waiting. And he has delivered me a deer and allowed me to shoot it.

Now, I won't pretend that dragging that doe up the side of the mountain back to camp was anything short of torture (was it Sisyphus whom the gods cursed to roll a rock up a mountain for all eternity? Yeah, I now know how it feels), but after dragging nearly a dozen deer up that very same hill for my brothers over the years, this one was mine, and nothing would stop me. It was my day. My victory. My… oh, how quickly we forget.

It was then that I took a second—sometime between pictures and field dressing—and remembered the conversations I had with God in those woods that morning. The conversations I've had with him in recent years, and since the kill. They're between him and me, but they're important. They're resonant. I've learned things in the silence of the forest over the past eight years. And it took a sacrificial deer—on God's time and with my dad's rifle—to reveal those things to me. At least, to begin to reveal them to me. There's still so much that I don't understand. So much to learn about God's will and about my own life. The past isn't clear to me, and neither is the future, but some questions have been answered. And for now, in this instant, I am content. God is listening. I won't give up. And as my brother said before we left for deer camp this year (after I asked him if he wanted to just wait and come down later, or not at all): "Let's go down tomorrow. You never know what's going to happen. I always believe what is meant to happen will happen."

And he couldn’t have been more right. Some will say, “It’s just a doe. Why didn’t you go for the big buck.” And those people totally missed the point. They’re walking a different journey than me. And that’s okay. Others will say, “What’s the big deal? It’s a rifle against a deer. Why brag about that?” And... that’s okay, too. I won’t convince them otherwise, and they’ll never go through the trouble of trying to find out for themselves. They’d rather pass judgement from afar. And I’ll be here, smiling ear to ear, wondering where to put the meat.