#can’t wait to see them hunt some witches

[no-onemournsthelesbians]

So in my long-ass oneshot, the one that’s definitely turning into at least 10k, I have a headcanon that when the guards grabbed Glinda in the attic they were so rough with her that they dislocated her shoulder. Madame Morrible was furious that they’d hurt her prized show pony, but realized pretty quickly she could use the injury to her advantage. The public was kept unaware of it, but Morrible refused to let it be healed by the palace doctors. This way she had a way to exert control over Glinda and have a consistent form of torture that wouldn’t mar Glinda’s face.

Glinda couldn’t set it herself, lest Madame Morrible make good on her threats to harm Glinda’s parents and even Fiyero, who Glinda hasn’t even been allowed to see since she and Elphaba left for Shiz. Glinda won’t risk it, especially since she’s considered herself to have already caused irreparable damage to her loved ones. So months later, when she inevitably meets Elphaba again (for what I don’t know yet) Elphaba learns the extent of the damage.

Here are some angst headcanons about it.

When Glinda and Elphaba finally meet again, of course it’s in the midst of chaos. There isn’t much time to talk, and all Glinda wants to do is escape with Elphaba. Elphaba is glad to take her this time, she even missed her, but part of her is still angry at her for leaving the first time and then participating in propaganda afterwards. So she’s a little pissed when they’re running and Glinda seems to slow down

She’s irritated so she snaps at her, and Glinda pushes everything down like she always has since everything fell apart, it doesn’t matter because she’s with Elphie again. Elphaba still makes it clear she’s irritated with how much it’s slowing them down, this being half out of nervousness and half out of pent up anger

So when they finally stop at Elphaba’s safe house it’s already an experience because Fiyero has been casually waiting there and is now ranting about how Elphaba disappeared and how it took forever to find her. Glinda is watching all of this, ignoring the fact that she taste words and hear colors, and she finally just collapses

Fiyero and Elphaba carry her inside, arguing because of the stress, and they end up putting her on Elphaba’s bed. When they can’t find anything wrong on the outside Elphaba rips open her clothes in a moment of sheer panic (it’s a funny story later) and they see the problem

All up and down Glinda’s right upper side, including her shoulder and back, are these truly awful contusions, some of which are definitely hematomas as they later find out. Fiyero, who grew up roughhousing with lots of brothers, can tell immediately that Glinda’s shoulder is dislocated but also that something isn’t right. A recently dislocated shoulder shouldn’t have severe contusions, especially not hematomas

Luckily one of Elphaba’s informants, a Fox, is a doctor but she couldn’t get there until dawn due to night witch hunting parties being particularly bad. The fact that Glinda doesn’t wake up at all during that time really scares them

When the Fox does arrive and looks at Glinda’s shoulder, she doesn’t like what she sees. She scolds Glinda, wondering why she would let herself maintain a dislocated shoulder of all things for months on end. Fiyero wonders the same thing, but Elphaba knows. It makes her sick to her stomach thinking about it

They do have to wake Glinda up to reset it, doing such a thing while she was sleeping would be foolish and dangerous. She’s still pretty out of it and Elphaba lets her hold her hand, telling her “hold out, my sweet.” It’s extremely painful, there’s a lot of screaming, and Glinda passes out again afterwards

The Fox refuses payment because of everything Elphaba has done, although she wasn’t fond of the fact that her favor was wasted on Glinda. She gives Elphaba and Fiyero instructions to take care of the injury, also reminding them that since the injury was so old Glinda will most likely have permanent tissue damage, severe muscle spasms, increased risk for fracture and even permanent mobility issues

When the Fox leaves Elphaba finally lets herself cry. She had every right to be angry and disappointed with Glinda, but she had been under the impression Glinda was safe and disgustingly comfortable in the Emerald Palace. The fact that she hadn’t even been allowed to set her own dislocated shoulder says the exact opposite, and Elphaba wants to vomit at some of the other things Madame Morrible and the Wizard might have put her through

The worst part, in Elphaba’s eyes, is when Glinda wakes up and is just fine with the fact that she was hurt for all that time, was just under the impression that it was something she signed up for and deserved because of the decision she made. Her self worth is wrecked and as someone who also has a terrible image of herself Elphaba has no idea what to do (she learns over time)

There is some fluff. Glinda jokes she’s glad it wasn’t her writing arm (I headcanon Glinda as being left handed) and joking that Elphaba will have to switch if they hold hands (see what I did there). Elphaba claims it’s not funny but sometimes she laughs

[glittergelpensblog]

Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader) Part Two

Part two! Thank you so much for all of the support for part one! I have so many ideas for this series and can’t wait to see where it takes me :)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2,577

Part One

It wasn't until you felt Elain's hand on your back that you finally let go of Feyre.

"Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room." Elain spoke.

Mrs. Laurent looked like she wanted to do no such thing, glancing between the three of you. It was with one final glare to Feyre that she turned around and made her way to the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________

Elain and Nesta sat on the opposite side of you and Feyre. Everyone quiet, too scared to speak, too scared to find out what made your sister return home.

It was she who finally broke the silence, "Where is father?"

"In Neva," Nestas voice was sharp. " Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world and attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."

You drew in sharp breath. A threat above the wall? Why hadn't Nesta mentioned that to you? Why didn't she tell you anything?

"Whatever the reason, Feyre," Elain spoke softly. "We are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were--"

"I never thought that." You sent a look to Elain before your gaze met Nesta's. You knew it was coming, knew the look in her eyes.

But before she could snap back at you, words bound to be as sharp as knives, Feyre pulled down the hood of her cloak down.

Elain's hands immediately began shaking, teacup rattling in her saucer. Your eyes widened as you took in your sister. Her slimmer figure, her taller stature. Her ears.

She was Fae.

"I was dead. I was dead, and then I was reborn--remade." Feyre's voice shook.

Elain set down her cup and Nesta angled herself, the movement barely noticeable, between them and Feyre. Her hand slightly stretching out, as if she wanted to take you behind her as well.

Feyre did nothing but hold her gaze with Nesta. "I need you to listen."

You were silent as she told her story. She spoke of the trials Under the Mountain, about Amarantha, how the red-headed witch had killed her, and then how the other Fae gave her back her life. She briefly mentioned leaving Tamlin and her new life in the Night Court. Her job with the High Lord. She explained why she was back. The threat at the border. Hybern. What she needed you to help her with.

You knew Feyre was different the moment you saw her. Yes, she was beautiful, almost glowing. But you knew something was wrong. You saw it in her eyes, her tight lipped smile. You felt it in the way she barely hugged you back. The horrors she endured, they had changed her, had taken her warmth.

"You--you want other High Fae to come... here. And... the Queens of the Realm." Elain's soft voice was nearly shaking.

"When?" you asked, not bothering to look at your other sisters, your gaze only on Feyre.

"Find somewhere else." Nesta spat.

Feyre turned to face Nesta, getting ready to speak again.

But Nesta wouldn't allow her. "Find somewhere else. I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain. Or near Y/N."

"Nesta, please," Feyre begged, "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me--"

"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than Children of the Blessed, then?"

"Because they cared so much about us when we were starving!" You snapped. "When we were nothing but a poor, dirty family in a rotting cottage? Why do we care what they think when they never cared for us?"

Nesta ignored you yet again. "Any standing, any influence we have--gone. And Elain's wedding--"

"Wedding?" Feyre blurted, eyes scanning Elain's left hand, the dark iron wrapped around her finger.

"In five months," Nesta said. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."

"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre's voice was quiet, the answer found in Nesta's silence.

Your mind was a blur as you took it all in. The Fae are what took Feyre, what had taken many lives before hers. They would cross the wall to torture, to kill, the Beddors a recent wound still fresh in your Village's mind. But the Fae had also saved Feyre, gave her life. If they truly were as bad as human's thought, then why did Tamlin spare Feyre's life? Why did the High Lords resurrect her?

"Nesta," Elaine spoke again, "If... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from... from them. We keep it secret-- we send the servants away. With spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know."

"There is no other way." Feyre held her gaze with Nesta.

"We'll send the servants away tomorrow." Nesta said.

"Today, we don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."

"I'll do it." Elain stood, brushing off her skirts.

"I'll help," You joined, following your sister into the kitchen, mind racing with a million thoughts. You would never get Feyre back, never the way you thought you would. You would never live together again, never have her head against your shoulder as you played the piano late at night. There was no way she could come back, not with her new found life.

You pushed back the tears in your eyes as you approached Mrs. Laurent.

______________________________________________________________

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked Nesta.

Feyre was still in the drawing room when you called Nesta from the hall, feigning that you needed assistance with getting something out of your Father's study.

"Why didn't I tell you what?" Nesta said.

"What Father was truly doing in Neva? That there was a threat above the wall. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you could've done anything," Nesta's voice was low. "There is nothing you could've done but worry."

"We could've helped, like we are right now--"

"Which we shouldn't be doing! We are putting ourselves in jeopardy--"

"As Feyre did for us," You glowered, "As she did every day in those woods, nearly freezing to death every winter. For us. We are helping Feyre in the way she helped us, in the way she kept us alive!"

"All of the servants have left," Elain's soft voice interrupted, saving you from the next cruel words to spew from Nesta's mouth. "Feyre said there are others here, for us to meet."

You followed Elain into the drawing room.

______________________________________________________________

Feyre entered the room, cloak gone, and you couldn't help but stare at your sister. This was her life now. She wore an intricate gown, probably worth more than you and your sister's gowns combined. Her body was adorned with jewelry, including a crown at the top of her head.

Behind her stood three men, the first, in the middle, seeming to radiate power, the High Lord, you assumed. His dark hair and fine black clothes contrasted with his violet, almost glowing, eyes. The one to his left seemed wild, ancient. He wore an outfit made of leather, adorned with glowing red jewels on his hands, chest, and shoulders, his dark brown hair almost reaching them. And he had wings, giant wings, almost like a bat's.

And to the High Lord's right was what had to be the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was dressed similarly to the man on the left, wearing black leathers, but with blue gems rather than red. His face was narrow, sharp, expression calm as he looked at you and your sisters. His dark hair slightly covering his forehead, a strand nearing his hazel eyes. Like the other male, he also had large, bat-like wings.

You tucked your head down as Nesta stepped in front of you and Elain.

Feyre stopped a few feet in front of you before she spoke, "My sisters, Y/N, Nesta, and Elain Archeron." She paused, allowing you all to take in the men before you.

"Cassian," She gestured to the man on the left, then slightly turning to the right, "Azriel, and Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. "

You stood silent, surveying the powerful men. The hairs on you neck stood, and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to calm yourself. Though the were Fae, they wouldn't hurt you. They had taken in Feyre, cared for her. And they were here to protect you.

Rhysand bowed to you and your sisters. "Thank you for your hospitality--and generosity," A warm smile graced his features.

You smiled back at him, and the other two men. "It is nice to meet you," You fought to keep your voice steady.

Nesta looked at Feyre, then the men. "The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold." She said before she strode off to the dining room

You followed Elain out as she sputtered a "Nice to meet you" to the three men.

Nesta sat at the head of the table, Elain to her left, and you took the right. Feyre sat beside you and Cassian next to Elain, Azriel on this other side. Rhysand slid into the seat next to Feyre .

The two winged males struggled to sit, adjusting their large wings with the back of the chair.

"Would you like a stool?" You asked, noticing their efforts to remain comfortable.

Nesta scoffed at your gesture

"Thank you, but we'll be fine." Cassisan said to you with a reassuring smile.

Feyre was the first to open the dishes of steaming food. Everyone was silent as they began preparing their plates and eating.

Nesta eyed Feyre as the latter took a bite, struggling to chew.

"Is there something wrong with our food?" Nesta clipped.

"No," Feyre replied, reaching for her water, her face slightly tinged pink.

"So you can't eat normal food anymore--or are you too good for it?"

Nesta truly could not leave it alone for one night. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even."

Your face became hot as you blushed at your sister's words, and you heard Cassian nearly choke on his water. Nesta just laughed lowly.

It was Rhys who intervened, attempting to diffuse the building argument. "If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different."

You didn't even know visiting Prythian was an option. Perhaps there was hope that you would be able to see your sister outside of the circumstances you were in.

Nesta's glare shifted from Feyre to Rhys. "I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"Nesta, please," Elain whispered.

Nesta ignored her, looking at Cassian who was assessing her with a smirk on his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Cassian's brows rose, the amusement on his face gone. "Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while the other youngest dealt with sleazy men at the pubs, all while you did nothing. " Your face flushed at his words, not knowing what Feyre had told them of you. "Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died--died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make--and insult my people in the process."

Nesta ignored him and turned to Feyre, Cassian's face filling with rage.

"It... it is very hard, you understand, to... accept it," Elain spoke to him, "We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered... it's all very disorienting."

"We know you are not here to hurt us," Your voice was steady a you looked between the three men, "But it is rare we experience Fae who are to help and not hurt."

"I can imagine," Azriel spoke, the first you had heard his voice the entire night.

"Nesta and I did not know what to do, how to work or hunt. Our lives were taken from us overnight. We were scared, had received no training, we failed them. Both of us." Elain said.

Feyre turned to face Nesta. "Can we just... start over?"

It looked as if it took everything in Nesta to back down. "Fine."

"Can you really fly?" Elain took Cassian's attention from Nesta.

The rest of the dinner went well after that, Nesta being as civilized as she got while the Fae explained their magic, the Illyrian race, and "Lesser Faeries" or Cassian called them. The meal was ended with a discussion of the sleeping arrangements for the night, Nesta assigning you the task of showing them their rooms before they began working on their letter to the queens.

After you had given them the directions to their rooms, you pulled Feyre aside while the three men began their work, most likely eavesdropping on your conversation.

"I missed you," You spoke, gently grabbing Feyre's hand, "How are you, truly?"

There was a long pause before she replied, "I don't know how to feel... I don't think I know how to feel. What happened Under the Mountain, the horrors I had endured... I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

"Is it better, at the Night Court?"

Feyre breathed deeply, looking out the window, up towards the night sky.

"With Tamlin, it was like I was drowning, suffocating. Everywhere I went there were sentries behind me. I was never left alone, I couldn't leave the house. What happened Under the Mountain broke me, but living in that house, it felt like I was trapped under there all over again.

"At the Night Court, I feel... free, I suppose. There's no breathing down my shoulder, no one telling me what I cannot do, where I cannot go. What people think of what I do doesn't matter. I have a job, people to protect... but it doesn't feel like a burden, I don't know what it feels like..."

A purpose.

"What Rhysand said, about visiting Prythian..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, a dream you were too scared to say aloud, like telling one a wish so it wouldn't become true. "Can that actually happen, can I actually visit you there?"

Feyre struggled to keep the tears in her eyes, you were so full of hope, so full of life, of innocence.

She couldn't let you visit, not right now, with war so close. She needed you here, safe.

"Maybe someday in the future, when things are safe. When this war is done with. Maybe then, you can come see me."

"I would love that."

"I would too."

______________________________________________________________

Tag list: @lizziesfirstwife @waytoomanyteenagefeels @starryhiraeth @knmendiola @bionic-donut @caosfanblr @lena-davina @starriestarlight @younxii @starsdoulikedem @lucyysthings @esposadomd @naturakaashi @carolinaflicker @missusbarnes-rogers @vlysseve @lollipop974 @whydohumansss @spaxxxi

[circeyoru]

Their Twist In Time

[Time-travelled Human!Alastor x Time User!Reader]

You were the only child born into this generation’s time masters. The pressure was always on you to do this well and do that well. Even more so when you had to hide your time-travelling powers. You mostly travel to the past and only for a short while so you don’t disturb the timeline and whatever nonsense your parents drilled into your little child mind

Perhaps you should have paid attention

The lack of siblings to carry the burden with you means all that power solely rest on your shoulders. Lose control and well, you can have dire consequences. This time being you bringing back some rando with you to the present

Big oops

So here Alastor was, strolling in the Bayou when suddenly, he was now in another place! People hold black metal things and something in their ears as they walk along. Oh, and the giant metal that would travel in the streets! Almost as big as a house, if not 3 times bigger! People gave him weird looks and he had to hide in an alleyway to wake himself up

Back to you, you were panicking. You obviously brought back someone, who? Probably a small time fry. But either way, you need to find them. Just your luck that your powers weren’t working, but there was enough residual to locate the person that was out of place or time

Double luck because you couldn’t exactly contact your parents or anyone else to ask about your situation until it was that period of the year (something like a witching hour but even rarer and is cater to time masters). You were on your own for a while, long while

First things first. Locate the target. Technology was on your side at least, there had been posts and pictures of a man out of the ordinary sighted around your area. How could you not notice this man behind or near you? He was holding a hunting gun, or shotgun? For crying out loud! 

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Your voice boomed as you went forward and grabbed him by the wrist, nudging him to follow. He’s stronger than he looks, given his skinny build. “Friend, are you still upset we can’t play that new game?”

“What on Earth are you talking about? Release me or I’ll be forced—”

“I’m trying to get us out of the spotlight, so just follow along, I’ll explain things once we’re somewhere private.” You whispered as your eyes darted to the nosy people with their phones out. The man got the message and came up with some story on the fly, going along as you requested

Safely the two of you made it back to your rather secluded home and you sighed, exhausted. The man more so physically and you mentally. Before you could even move from your spot, the barrel of the man’s gun was pointed in your face, him threatening you for answers

You raised your hands and explained, there was honestly no way around it, you had to tell him that you accidentally brought him to ‘the future’ in his perspective with your powers over time. When he demanded you do the same in reverse, you shamefully and embarrassingly admitted you were still inexperienced and had to wait for your parents to teach the method to you

“Why can’t you do it now?”

“They’re dead and I need to wait for that time of the year to contact them.”

“...My condocenses.”

“Thanks.”

The first few days, after the introductions and the living situation was settled, the two of you avoided each other. Only talking when the man, Alastor, wanted to know where he could find things and the like while you were still busy with your college life

Both of you were glad you didn’t have to see the other majority of the time. Since you were outside with school and part-time job, Alastor had the place to himself. Your place was big, by modern standards, and he had plenty of space to roam around. All but your room and study were off-limits to him

Unspokenly, there was a routine. Alastor would have made food by the time you were back and you’d have restocked the necessities. Then there was Alastor’s constant checking of whether you found a way to bring him home on your own and your answer was always the same ‘No, sorry’

It took one minor incident to connect you two and start opening up: Home invasion

One reason or another, the burglar thought you were an easy and perfect target since you were the only one in and out of the house, plus your place was big

The burglar forced open your door when you were entering and pinned you to the door since the two of you were inside, a hand covering your mouth to avoid attention. Your nearest neighbour was far, still better safe than sorry, right? “Give me all your valuables and money and no one gets hurt.”

Your home was your sacred place, there were traps and spells all around to ensure no one would find out your family’s secret. In fact, why Alastor was allowed to just stay at your place alone when you were out was because of your charms and traps. Any suspicious action made, you’d know and it would be dealt with

Before you could activate one, however, the burglar’s eyes rolled to the back of their head and their hold over you loose. You were grabbed by the wrist and yanked away before the unconscious body of the burglar flattened you. You looked up to your rescuer, shocked to see Alastor with his gun

“You didn’t kill him, right?”

“Only knocked him unconscious, dear.”

The process was slow, but eventually you two were enjoying meals together instead of up in your respective rooms, Alastor even followed you out and stayed around your campus to explore while waiting for you to be done with your activities

You also learned about his fancy with radios and his job as a radio host in his time, again you expressed your blues about his situations, but unlike before, now he seemed happy. What made you blush was his flirtatious words, “My dear! I call it a lucky accident! If it weren’t for your mistake, I’d have never met a gal such as yourself. You’re truly one of a kind, dear.”

In modern times, you’d rarely hear these cheesy ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ name callings, it was mostly for dramas and novels. In a way, it suited him. If he wasn’t calling everyone (girl/lady) he met that, you’d have been head over heels for him

It puzzled the Radio Host to no end, his feelings towards you. He was going to watch and see if you could defend yourself against that burglar, not rescue you like a knight in shining armour. But something ached in his chest and heart when he saw you getting manhandled like that. He needed to put that no-good crook in his place

He didn’t even realize he took a hold of his hunting gun or what he did until he had you in his arms. You were supposed (and is) to be all-powerful. You control time for heaven’s sake. A trainee time master, but still powerful in your own right. You were no damsel and you deserved some misfortune for what you did to him

Yet he still protected you and held you close. Was it because you offered the best hospitality you could offer? Bring him meals with your hard-earned money? Buy him new clothes and daily necessities because he didn’t want to share yours? Catered to his wishes when you could have ignored it all? Maybe those play a part. But what took the cake was your efforts to correct your mistake behind closed doors

He noticed late into the night the noises from your room connected to the study. You were keeping quiet, but his trained hearing could catch you rummaging around to find anything to help your/his situation. The next morning, you’d have food ready for him and give him a smile to leave for school and work

Ah. It was that smile that slowly got the better of him. That’s why. A familiar smile to hide the troubles of the mind

Note: There's part 2~ Hehe ᕦ(ò‿óˇ)ᕤ

Will be updated to Masterlist when part 2 and the random moment is out as well~! Enjoy my other stories until then! Happy reading!

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (TBZ The Invitation AU) 5.1k, vampires, supernatural, witch hunt, fire, nightmares, manipulation, stalking, kidnapping, drugs, needles, blood, fangs, yandere (@starillusion13)

“Oh my gosh… it’s you…”

“Pardon?”

Working as a server for fancy rich events meant that getting grabbed by some random guy was bound to happen. A night on this job hasn’t gone by where you didn’t get harassed. Although this dude just grabbed your arm and nearly caused you to drop the tray you had in your hand. The normal thing to do here was yell and get away from this person, but if you wanted to keep the job you’d have to bite your tongue and just be polite.

“Sorry, I just-” The guy let go of your arm. “You look so familiar to me.”

“I’ve worked these types of events before, maybe you’ve seen me at one of those.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… okay, this is going to sound crazy, but bare with me, do you perhaps know about your family lineage?”

“I… I don’t understand what that-”

“Maybe it’s better if I show you.”

The guy frantically pulled out his phone and brought up a picture, showing it to you. As you looked it over you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing a ghost. You were staring at a black and white photo of yourself, dressed in old time clothes.

“What… what is this?”

“I believe this is your ancestor.”

“Huh?”

“It’s all very complicated and hard to explain, so I’ll make it short and simple. I work with a Mr. Lee, who has been looking for the heir to this woman’s estate for generations. Of course I know you two merely look alike, but the resemblance is uncanny. Would you mind taking a DNA test to see if you really are a descendant?”

“Wait, wait, are you saying you think this woman is my ancestor, and if so, I inherit the wealth she’s left behind?”

“Yes.”

“Uh… well…”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and this could genuinely be my mistake, but would you please consider submitting a DNA test for me. I can’t let you slip away so easily if you’re truly the one we’ve been searching for. Do you perhaps want to discuss this with your family? Actually, I would love to meet them and see if-”

“No, I mean… I lost my father when I was a child, and it was just me and my mom until she passed a few months back… I never really knew about the rest of my family… it was just the two of us…”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I understand I must sound like some insane stranger to you, but even if you’re not the one I’m looking for, a DNA test could help you find the rest of your family. I’ll take care of all the expenses.”

“I…”

“Please.”

“I suppose… a DNA test isn’t really asking for much.”

“Excellent! May I have your number? My name is Kevin by the way.”

“Y/n.”

After the whole exchange Kevin asked you to let him know what company you’d be using and to let him know how much he owed you. It wouldn’t be much anyway but the whole task would be free and wouldn’t take long anyway so there was no harm in doing it. When you got the DNA testing kit you swabbed your mouth and provided some hair, then mailed it back to the company. A few days later you got an email from them, showing you relatives who had also used the service and giving you the option to reach out to them. You were considering all that when you got a call. You didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway. To your surprise you were speaking to a bank, not your own, that wanted you to come to one of their branches. Of course you thought this might be some kind of scam but they had sent a letter in the mail as well.

You checked to discover they were correct. When you opened the letter your eyes went wide. The bank claimed to have been informed about your lineage and that they’ve been holding on to one of your ancestors’ estate. They had been looking for a descendant for a long time and wanted to meet you in person. This all seemed too good to be true so you needed to think. A part of you thought this was some elaborate scam but you did some research. The bank itself was legitimate and the person you’d be meeting with was an actual employee. If this was all true it would change your life for the better, but it all felt too easy. Still, in the end you decide to go to the bank and hear them out. To your surprise Kevin was there, having been informed of your meeting since he’s the representative for Mr. Lee in the area.

The two of you spoke with one of the bank employees, sitting in their office as they explained everything. Your DNA showed you were related to the original owner of the estate and they had passed without leaving any children or letter of inheritance. The wealth likely would have returned to the government but a close friend of your ancestor vowed to look after the estate and find a descendant. Kevin worked with the current estate caretaker, Mr. Lee, who was overjoyed to hear you’ve been found and wants to meet you. As far as you could tell none of this was a scam and you absolutely had a legal claim to all this wealth. It was still so much to process you couldn’t believe it.

“Take it easy, I know all of that was a lot.”

“Am I dreaming…”

After the bank Kevin could tell you needed to think so he offered to get you some coffee, keeping you company.

“It’s all very real, even if it seems crazy.”

“Just like that… I become rich over night…”

“You still need to meet Mr. Lee so he can hand over your estate but yeah, congrats.”

“I…”

“I can take care of all the finer details, you just need to pack a bag and meet me at the airport.”

“That simple…”

“More or less.” Kevin reached over to take your hand. “Take a few days to process and let me know when you’re ready. This isn’t gonna disappear for you anytime soon.”

You did take some time just to process and see if you really were dreaming. You even went back to work for a bit but it soon stuck that this didn’t have to be your life anymore. When you were ready you reached out to Kevin, and he was overjoyed to hear from you. In a couple of hours he sent you flight and ticket info, telling you not to worry about anything. Of course you flew first class with him, super comfy and still somewhat in disbelief, but you were doing this. A car was there to pick you up when you landed, sent by Mr. Lee himself. The drive took you from the city to a small town, and when you rolled up to the estate your eyes were wide in shock. The place was huge and beautiful. Once you stepped out of the vehicle you could get a better look at everything, also seeing a bunch of wait staff moving around.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, since you’re here Mr. Lee wanted to throw a party for you, a welcome party if you will.”

“What? No, no, that’s unnecessary.”

“He’s very excited to meet you.”

“A party for me? That’s way too much, I’m no one-”

“You’re everything.”

Another voice caught you off guard and you turned around to see a new face. A tall handsome gentleman stood before you.

“… uh…”

“Apologies. I’m Mr. Lee.” He held his hand out. “But you can just call me Sangyeon.”

“… it’s nice to meet you, I’m-”

“Y/n. It’s wonderful to have you. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, and it’s an honor to finally have you home.”

“Home, so this estate really is mine?”

“Of course.”

“Wow… but you really don’t have to throw a party for me, that’s-”

“I want to celebrate this occasion, to celebrate you. Come, let me show you around.”

You looked back at Kevin who just nodded and gestured for you to go along. He was going to take care of your belongings and would see you later. You followed Sangyeon into the estate, discovering that it was just as incredible inside as it was outside. Everything appeared vintage and real. Sangyeon informed you the whole estate had been cared for over the years.

“It’s all pristine, although for the moment the library is off limits.”

“Hm? How come?”

“There’s a bit of renovation going on. Don’t worry, it should be done in a few days.”

“Alright… uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead, I’ll do my best to answer.”

“When I was told about all this… well, I don’t mean to sound rude, but why has your family been looking after this estate? I was told your family was a close friend, but to keep watch for generations and-”

“I understand your concerns. It is odd when you look at it from the surface. Truth is, our two families were nearly wed back then.”

“You mean… our ancestors were supposed to be married? Our families would have been united?”

“Yes. Things unfortunately did not end well, so my family decided to look for a descendant. No one knew how long that would take but now here we are. I was incredibly overjoyed to hear you had been found, so rightfully a celebration is in order. Let me show you to your room.”

Sangyeon led you towards your room, and you were stunned once again. It looked so extravagant, as if you were living in a castle.

“Kevin already brought your belongings up here, and Haknyeon has volunteered to be at your beck and call for anything you might need.”

“Oh… um… okay… so, what exactly happens now?”

“Well, I still need to get some preparations in order, and some of the guests have yet to arrive.”

“Guests? I thought this party was just going to be us and then we’d go over the paperwork…”

“My dear, you are a miracle. One we’ve been waiting so long for. There are so many who are eager to meet you, and they shall tomorrow night. For today, rest, unpack, relax. I’m sure you must still be tired from the flight. Over here is the service bell, just pull on it and Haknyeon will come to you.”

“Okay…”

“Good. Just enjoy yourself, this is your new home after all.”

“Right, thank you.”

It was late into the afternoon when you had arrived at the estate. You were a bit tired, but the excitement of it all had kept you awake. Now that you were here and within range of a super comfy bed the exhaustion was finally hitting you. After a nice shower you were ready to rest, but there was a knock at the door. When you answered, a new face greeted you.

“Good evening, I’m Haknyeon, I have dinner for you.”

“That smells really nice.”

“I’ll relay your compliments to the chef.”

“Thanks, Haknyeon. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Of course. Do you need anything else?”

“Not at the moment. I’ll ring if I do.”

“Excellent.”

Haknyeon stepped in to leave the food cart in your room, telling you to just leave it outside once you were done. You thanked him again then had dinner in bed. The food was divine, definitely not something you ever had before. After eating you laid in bed for a while, texting some friends and letting them know how the trip was going. It was finally setting in what was happening to your life. It was kinda like a dream come true. Somethings in your life you wouldn’t have to worry about anymore.

🖤

Sleep didn’t come easy, but you weren’t sure if that was excitement or nerves. After getting a few hours you decided to get up, needing some water or something. You thought to call for Haknyeon, but you didn’t want to ring a bell in the middle of the night and wake up a lot of people. You were certain you remembered where the kitchen was, so you could get yourself a glass of water. You made it out of your room, quietly going down the hall. As you were walking you heard some voices and got curious. You went over to the main entrance, peeking down from the balcony. 

Someone you didn’t recognize was talking with the wait staff. They were giving some directions for tomorrow, then picked someone out to clean the library. Sangyeon told you it was being renovated, so you didn’t understand why someone would go inside to clean. You quietly watched as a hidden compartment was revealed and the library was opened. Honestly you were curious to go inside yourself. Such a place must be just as wonderful as the rest of the estate. You were so lost in the idea you didn’t realize someone had approached you.

“Y/n, what are you doing out of bed?”

“Huh, oh, Haknyeon, you startled me.”

“Are you alright? Do you not feel well?”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just wanted some water.”

“How about I get you some tea so you can sleep easy, let’s get you back to your room first.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Haknyeon led you back down the hall, but you did glance back down once more. You noticed the stranger looking back up at you, offering you a soft smile before going on their way. Just as promised, Haknyeon brought you some tea and you managed to go back to sleep. Although it wasn’t as peaceful as you wanted. You found yourself outside the estate at night. It was a beautiful sight until the house caught on fire. You screamed, hearing cries coming from inside. You ran towards the fire, wanting to help, but instead you woke up. Sunlight was peeking into the room, showing you that a new day had begun.

You didn’t understand why you had such a dream, but perhaps the house was giving you some uneasy feeling. Even if it was a nice place, it was old, and seemed a bit creepy here and there. You weren’t going to dwell on that though, preparing for the day. A while later Haknyeon came by to escort you to the breakfast table. There were twelve seats total, five on either side, and then two together at one end. You were just going to sit wherever but Haknyeon gestured for you to sit at the end, then he took his own seat. A moment later Sangyeon came in, happy to see you again, taking the seat next to you.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“It could have been better, but I’m alright. This place is still growing on me.”

“Baby steps, this will all be normal eventually.”

A few of the other seats at the table were filled, but nearly half still remained empty. Sangyeon had those present introduce themselves. That way you could put names to faces, and recognize the gentlemen from last night as Juyeon. After breakfast you stepped outside to explore the grounds, seeing all the preparations being made for the party. You still felt it was a lot, but there was certainly no stopping Sangyeon. While walking around you suddenly saw the house catch fire, hearing screams of anguish. You thought something was happening until Sangyeon snapped you out of it.

“Are you alright? You seemed frightened.”

“I’m okay, just… I don’t know, creeped out a bit. The estate is gorgeous, but it certainly has those creepy old house vibes.”

“Something you’ll get used to I assure you. Or we can always redecorate the interior and exterior to your liking.”

“You’ve worked hard to maintain this place as is, I wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

“Noted.”

There wasn’t much for you to do to pass the time, but you did realize everyone was busy somewhere, so perhaps you could do some snooping. You made sure no one was around and snuck over to the library, getting the hidden key and letting yourself in. The room was dark with a few candles lit. Just as you had imagined, there were shelves and shelves of books, along with a desk. This was also a study. Although your gaze eventually landed on the portrait hanging above the fireplace. It was huge, and covered up with some curtains, but not all the way. At the center of this image you saw yourself and Sangyeon. It was eerie to see that. You had been told you looked like your ancestor, but Sangyeon’s ancestor looked just like him too.

While starting at that and getting goosebumps you wound up moving back until you hit the desk. You ended up dropping something and quickly picked it up, placing it back on the desk only to notice a file with your picture on it. You grabbed it and examined it, shocked to see what you had found. All kinds of information on you was present, along with pictures. Both of your youth, but also recent ones. You found pictures of you at work at different events, or simply out on the streets. This was truly creeping you out, and your gaze shifted back to the portrait. Something was very wrong here, and you didn’t want to stay any longer. You made your way out of the library and headed back to your room, packing up.

“Hey, I wanted to- what are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.”

As you were packing, Sangyeon came to check on you, confused by your actions. You didn’t care though, merely shoving the file you had found into his hands.

“Y/n… I can explain.”

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to hear it.”

“This is just a misunderstanding. You can’t just leave, not when-”

“I don’t care about the money. I was never planning on staying here anyway. My home is elsewhere, and I want to get back to the life I had.”

“Look, y/n, this isn’t what you think. We just had to be sure you were legit. I’ve been searching for a true descendant for generations, believe me, I’ve had people come to my door claiming to be a real heir but they’re just trying to pull a fast one.”

“What about the portrait in the library, huh? Those two look exactly like us, as if we took that picture yesterday.”

“I know that’s a bit uncanny, but I told you, our families intended to marry back then. All the preparations were set when… tragedy struck… a bunch of townspeople came to the estate, claiming the girl was a witch, and wanting her dead. They set the house ablaze, and she didn’t make it out. The portrait is one of the only things with her image that survived, I’ve taken very good care of it over the years.”

“Oh…”

“I think they’d be happy to see you here. As if she never left her home.”

“… I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, don’t apologize. You have every right to be upset with me, I just hope you won’t really leave. You’re the guest of honor tonight. Everyone will be here just for you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Sangyeon chuckled. “I hope that’s a yes. I was looking for you to let you know I left your outfit for tonight in your closet. A little surprise and token of my gratitude.”

“Hm, I guess I’ll take a look.”

“See you tonight then?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good.”

🖤

You really hadn’t been considerate of Sangyeon’s situation in all of this. Con Artists were everywhere, there was no way someone hadn’t tried to steal this estate from him at some point of the years. The portrait was creepy, but you couldn’t deny it was old. It was a piece of history for both your families, it would be disrespectful to destroy it. Regardless of how creepy it was. No wonder there was a curtain for it. Sangyeon probably covered it up most of the time. You had a light lunch in your room and then got ready for the party. You found that a beautiful red gown had been left for you, Sangyeon’s gift. It truly was incredible, and you were kind of looking forward to this party. At its core it was this big welcome home celebration for you.

After washing up you got dressed, taking a moment to admire yourself in the mirror before heading down. Night had fallen, and there were some beautiful stars in the sky. The courtyard was decorated beautifully. As you arrived Haknyeon announced your presence, all eyes turning to you and applause filling the air. It felt like too much, but you couldn’t hide the smile on your face. Kevin came over to your side with a drink in hand, complimenting your outfit. He pointed out a few of the new faces to you, introducing you as well. They were all eager to meet you, and you received one compliment after another. 

Then Sangyeon arrived, drawing everyone’s attention for a moment. A bit of mingling continued before dinner was announced and everyone moved to sit at the table. The set up was similar to the dining room, so you sat by Sangyeon’s side. Now the table was full, and soon enough the wait staff served the main course. Before anyone ate, Sangyeon stood up and raised an empty glass. The other boys did the same and you grabbed your own.

“It’s so good to see all your faces here tonight. I know it has been many years since we’ve been together, and now we won’t part again. I want to thank you all for your hard work, especially Kevin for being the fortunate one to find our beloved bride.”

“… what…?”

“Tomorrow.” Sangyeon turned to you. “We shall be married just as it was meant to be all those years ago. To us, my love.”

The glasses were raised high, then some of the boys grabbed the nearest staff member, yanking them towards the table and slitting their throat with their claws, making them bleed into a bowl. Sangyeon’s words had confused you, but the scene unfolding before you made you freeze. The gagging and smell of blood made you uneasy. For a moment you thought you were dreaming, but even when you pinched yourself nothing changed.

“I… I have to… leave…”

You got up only for Sangyeon to grab your arm. You could now see his clawed hands, looking up to find crimson eyes staring back at you with a sharp smile revealing fangs.

“Where are you going, my love? This dinner is for you.”

“I… I… no, no I have to leave.” You struggled to free yourself. “Let go.”

“Darling, you’re embarrassing me in front of the boys.” Sangyeon chuckled. “Don’t complicate matters.”

“I said let go!”

You managed to break free from Sangyeon’s grasp, stumbling back a step before turning around and running. You didn’t head back to the house, instead going into the woods, needing to get as far away as possible from. Sangyeon watched you go, amused by your actions. Although the others soon got up.

“No, no, let her run and get it out of her system. She won’t get far.”

🖤

Your little head start didn’t do much for you. It was night and the woods were dark. You also didn’t know which way civilization was, but there was no time to stop and think. The dress kept snagging on branches, slowing you down until you tripped over your own feet and collapsed to the ground. You scrambled to your feet only to find a pair of red eyes staring you down.

“Hello, pretty.”

“… please… please just let me go…”

“Not gonna happen, not ever.”

There was no reasoning here, so you just picked a direction and ran, hoping you weren’t running back to the house. You could hear your pursuer and there was more than one. It was foolish to think you could actually escape them. This was likely just a game for them, hunting you down like prey. Just as you were growing tired they pounced in you. One fo the tackling you to the ground and rolling around with you until he pinned you down.

“Gotcha!”

You were exhausted, and hit your head a few times, so your vision was blurry and fading. A few more red eyes appeared in your view but soon the world faded to black. You had no idea for how long you were out for, but when you began to regain consciousness you noticed there wasn’t much light. The sound of a fire crackling caught your attention, and once your eyes adjusted you realized where you were. The same portrait over the fireplace stared you down, except it wasn’t hidden this time. The curtains were fully open, revealing the full image. All eleven boys were pictured, surrounding your doppelganger who was at the center. Now you realized the boys in the painting were the same ones you had been dining with hours ago. Although that just left you with more questions.

“Finally awake, are we?”

You carefully sat up on the couch, feeling sore and still but dizzy. Sangyeon had been at the desk behind you, standing as he spoke and coming over to kneel before you.

“How do you feel?”

“… what is this… what’s going on…?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’ll make sense in time.”

“… you… you lied to me… didn’t you…?”

“Not exactly.”

Sangyeon put on a delicate smile, grabbing your arm. His claws ghosted over your skin, dancing along the vein in your wrist.

“As you can imagine we’re not human… but human blood is very important. It grants us life and power, but there are those with special blood, a rare gift I have come across only a few times in my life. Of course I wasn’t going to let such a delicious thing escape me. Even as a vampire, power still flows in their blood.”

“…” You glanced back at the portrait. “… you… you did this to them… all of them…?”

“Except you… the one that got away.”

“She ran…”

“No, no, no, I told you before. The locals came to the estate on a witch hunt, wanting to hurt me and boys, to destroy the monsters that lived here. The house was set on fire, and in all the chaos our beloved was caught and killed, believed to have been a monster too when in reality that wasn’t the case. I made those bastards pay for what they had done, for what they had taken from me. I’ve been looking for you ever since. I knew you’d return to me somehow, and now you’re finally here. I won’t let you escape again.”

“I… I’m not her… I’m not-”

“You are though. Not just your looks, but your soul. I saw it the moment you arrived and now.” Sangyeon lifted your wrist to his nose, taking in a deep breath. “Even your scent is the same. The blood that flows through these veins is the same.”

“I’m not… please let me go…”

“I won’t be doing that. Why don’t you just rest for now love, we have a big night tomorrow.”

As Sangyeon got up you felt a prick in your arm, seeing the needle just as he placed a kiss on your forehead. The world started spinning again and then it cut to black. After that many things were a blur. You were being carried at one point, then stripped of your clothes, then in a warm bath, then in bed. You’d open your eyes to sunlight, then blink and it was night. You were being moved around at times, but you weren’t really present. At one point you had multiple boys waiting on you, dressing you and dolling you up. It didn’t fully hit what was going on until you caught a glimpse of yourself in a white dress. There was a wedding tonight, yours.

You never really thought about marriage, you hadn’t met anyone who was worth entertaining the idea for. Even in your dazed state you could smile, seeing how beautiful you looked. This whole thing was like a dream, one you were likely never going to wake up from. Once you were dressed you were taken elsewhere, seeing that a room had been prepared for the ceremony. Jacob chose to talk you down the aisle, and Kevin was going to officiate the whole thing. You still weren’t fully present, but the drugs had worn off a good amount. It was only you and the boys, no one else. All of you isolated from the world, yet they seemed to be alright. You were half listening to what was going on, but the most dangerous words just slipped right out.

“I do.”

There were cheers and applause, then there was blood in your mouth. Sangyeon had slit his wrist, pressing his bloody wound to your lips. The taste was unexpectedly sweet, so you drank and drank until he pulled away.

“That’s my girl.”

A soft kiss was pressed against your lips before Sangyeon bit deeply into your neck. You screamed from the initial sting and then began to melt into his touch. That wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. The tips of your fingers felt strange, and there was an ache in your teeth. The fog in your head was rolling back as you realized you were changing, turning into one of them. Sealing your fate for eternity. Sangyeon eventually pulled away, holding your head in his hands, staring at you with such a loving look on his face.

“You’re home, my love, and we won’t lose you again.”

Another kiss was placed on your lips and this time you tasted blood. It was your own, but it was just as delicious as his. Even with this your throat began to go dry, you wanted more, you needed more. Then you felt another sting in your wrist, then another and another, realizing the other boys were biting into you. It hurt, but it felt wonderful all at once. You managed to bite back, getting a taste of blood as well and drinking. The room quickly turned to chaos of blood and fangs, but you enjoyed it. This all felt right, and the thought of escaping faded into oblivion.

“Home…” You mumbled with a mouth full of blood. “This is home.”

[queenofallimagines]

Alexis ness x witch reader

A/N: WHY THE FUCK DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE?? I TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO MIX MY WITCH HCS WITH BLUE LOCK AND OFC THE EX HARRY POTTER KID WITH THE STEM CAREER PARENTS WHO CRUSHED HIS DREAMS WOULD FOAM AT THE MOUTH!! Was word vomiting onto a page and this came out and I’m like??? Fuck yeah??

TAGLIST: @priv-rose

Alexis Ness:

- I am SO excited for this🗣️

- First of all fuck Harry Potter and fuck JK rat ass Rowling

- Good now That’s that’s out of the way

- He would literally be star struck like he def wouldn’t tell you he believes in stuff like that bc of his childhood

- But like when he sees your so chill he might joke around with superstitions

- But when you know more of them than he does,,,,?

- “Don’t forget! Salt over your left shoulder!”

- “Plant rosemary by your garden gate,lavender for luck and blow cinnamon into your house on the first of the month.”

- “I- what?”

- Putting some sigils for focus and luck in the shoes

- In the inside of the compression suit

- Reading incantations before a game to help(aka mumbling them while pressing kisses to his face)

- Putting a hex on the other team or players you don’t like (Kaiser)

- Kisses as a good luck charm

- Kissing isagi eyelids and forehead so he can smell his goals😔💕

- Charming a necklace he wears during games

- Putting something in his phone case for good measure so he can accidentally not respond to his family or kaisers texts💕

- You could put a little soccer ball charm on your altar for him🥺

- Alexis ness: Love please don’t hex the opposing team I want to win on my own

- Also ness: so like if you COULD hypothetically make isagi twist his ankle,,,,,

- He’s so funny and silly

- Asking you to turn people into frogs

- “It doesn’t work like that beloved”

- I like to think he would go to haunted places and drag you along

- If this is before he knows you’re a witch

- He pretends he just wanted to see the location and he don’t belive in ghosts n stuff

- Even tho he researched like 600 ghost protection methods before yall got here

- The two of you go in, joking around and having fun in the worn down building but the two of you stop dead in your tracks as you hear something?Footsteps...that aren't yours or his.

- Ness clutching you like a damn lifeline

- Your hearts are both pounding in your chests as you walk through the halls, unsure of what is making that noise that doesn’t sound like it’s coming from an animal…

- Mama ain’t raise no Bitch

- So you just straight up yell💀

- “Fuck off! go bother someone else!”

- Poor baby Ness quickly clamps his hand over your mouth, his eyes wide at your outburst. Whatever was making noise in the abandoned hospital immediately stops making noise tho 💅🏿

- Ness gives you the “you’ve lost your damn mind” look

- “Hey! Maybe don’t make whatever it is more pissed off-!”

- “That’s how you banish ghosts! so unless it’s something more dangerous you can tell them to kick rocks! We’re technically on their territory but like same thing I guess. They can’t do much but scare us and I’ve got like 10 protection charms they can’t really do much.”

- Pause

- Rewind

- Excuse me?

- “Y’all got about three seconds to get the fuck up out my way and two of ‘em are already gone because I don’t count shit but money so get to stepping Casper!”

- He’s going to propose to you

- “ Wait! You’ve got protection charms-!?”

- Ness is side eyeing you hard asf rn😭

- Not in a bad way but a “when was this??” Type of way bc he knew nothing of this

- “Ok then…but what about those ghost hunting shows! like there’s those that say that if they get pissed off they can hurt you for being on their ‘property’ if I remember correctly..”

- Like he’s pulling out his ghost busters encyclopedia lmao

- “Those are fake and I’m a witch they can’t fucking touch me. I’ve talked to demons🙄Some old grumpy spirit can’t do much but give me nightmares and even then they’ll have to box me about it”

- Lmao he’s like full stop staring at you wide eyed

- Kaiser baby you’ve been dethroned I fear

- A new emperor about to spin the block😔✊🏿

- Oh! And not let him hear you WORK with deities

- He will be like a kid in a candy store

- Like trauma suddenly gone lmao

- His ugly ass momma saying all that vile shit to him as a baby suddenly never happened

- He’s living his Peter Pan dreams!!

- Ness’ jaw drops to the floor as he hears you list out the demons you’ve worked with.

- Kinda thinks you’re making fun of him at first so he bristles at you but when he sees you’re not even smiling about it he’s even more shocked

- “So..you made a deal with them or something-? If you did that’s like….your soul is basically his now, right!?”

- “Not really? I just had to ask nicely.”

- Lmao he’s like trying to rewire his brain right now

- Nagging voices at the back of his head telling him

- Magic isn’t real and there’s probably a logical explanation for all of this like you’re so clearly kidding

- “Y-You’re like…a legit witch? Like you can do magic and summon stuff!?”

- “Yep”

- He stares for another few seconds before a smile creeps onto his face, his eyes going wide with amazement?

- Like you can actually see the stars

- “Dude this is SO COOL! You’re like a bad ass witch! Wait…CAN YOU DO MAGIC RIGHT NOW!?”

- Dragging you through the hospital as suddenly he done forgot about the shorts or whatever

- You flinch at something dripping but he don’t even turn around to look at it he’s rambling to himself for the most part

- “Alex baby It’s not like Harry Potter but I do curse people and do old ancient spells and stuff. Like I’m technically doing magic right now? I have a protective charm on us so nothing can try anything funny-“

- “A PROTECTIVE CHARM?! YOU CAN DO PROTECTION MAGIC TOO!”

- Lord

- He grabs your hand and starts yanking it

- Chill out???

- he’s excited about this magic stuff and as he holds your hand, he seems so innocent and curious about all of this now.

- “Show me some magic…PLEASE?”

- “Like what spell do you want? And again not like flying magic. It’s more…I guess stuff close to that? Still within the realm of reality. But I mean technically your parents do magic too right? They’re scientists. And just before you know how something works doesn’t mean it’s less magical yknow?”

- Ignoring the fact that last part is what sparked this entire head canon I’m right leave me alone

- “Eh..scientists are just nerds who figure out how things work, not really magical.”

- He’s gunna start pouting, he didn’t really believe in his parents nerdy sciencey stuff

- but your magic that’s WAY more interesting! Magic! Actual magic! How cool is that!

- “Magic isn’t just something you can’t understand. Like think of it. We don’t know shit about gravity and it’s still just a theory but if I drop something it falls right? Same principal. Things seen and unseen in this earth are magic. Like you can use chemistry in spell work all the time. like urine and bleach make chloramine gas and I’ve used that in curses.”

- See he only heard that last part I’m afraid

- was DEF not expecting the last part to come out from your mouth

- “I’m….You…put piss…into your curses?”

- “I WILL call the ghosts to come jump you on my behalf…”

- That got his ass In check real quick lmao

- “like the possibility that I CAN. Like it could be for a nightmare curse. Throw in some poppy seeds for mental unrest and nightmares, vinegar to sour their mind and maybe black pepper to get them to leave your life really fast.”

- “Huh…so piss, seeds, vinegar and black pepper in a mixture makes a nightmare curse…”

- “Why did you write that down….”

- Hope your grimore or whatever isn’t like private bc he WILL dig through that every chance he gets

- Got all the books on your shelves unorganized and fucked up be he done ran through them

- Like can you have some class??🙄

- Sits and stares at your altar for hours

- Like he’s looking at everything on it to see if he can figure it out

- No that table cloth is blue because that’s all I had leave me alone!!

- Back to deities

- He will always be polite

- Nothing if not a gentlemen

- Will say hello to them before YOU walking into the crib

- Like you know when a boy is so polite he talks to your whole family before even remembering he came there for you?

- That’s him

- “Hi great grandma! I bought you some of that liquor you like”

- Leaves more offerings then you I’m afraid

- He’s so baby deer coded they love him

- Everyone and they momma will ride or die for him.

- So like don’t let Kaiser be within a one Mile radius of your house and talking bad to him

- Matter fact? Don’t even watch his games in your home

- Bc now everyone mad

- “Why is he disrespecting my baby like that?”

- Like house is in shambles

- “Go give this to him”

- “What? But wasn’t this mine-“

- “Did I stutter?”

- He’s so beloved

- “I call him old man a lot. Or like Lucy-“

- “Lucy….king of hell, devil incarnate, Lord of the Underworld, and one of the most infamous fallen angels. And you call him LUCY?!”

- Jokes that your food is made with love but like now he’s not sure it’s a joke at this point….

[loverslantern]

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

Description: (Duo POV) After a hunt gone wrong Dean falls sick. Now on his death bed Sam and Y/N do whatever it takes to save him from the void that is death, even if that means running into trouble.

Warnings: Cannon violence, Ansgt, hospitals, talk about dying and death, illness, heart issues, talk of past deaths, grief, Dean may be OOC or at least his inner thoughts but let me know, Historical and religious talk of the Celts and Christianity if anything is incorrect/ inaccurate pls tell me so I may fix it, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for 100 followers, never thought this series would get so much love!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 15,139

Faith

(Master list, Prev. Ch, Next Ch)

I hate hospitals.

I hate hospitals, especially when it is someone you care about on the medical bed.

I hate hospitals, especially when you can’t be in the room with the person; when you have to sit in the waiting room with nothing but pure anxiety coursing through your veins, and everyone around you is in the same position.

At least Sam is with him, that must make both of them feel better. But it doesn't make me feel as better as it should, my leg bounces rapidly no distraction working for me. I tried reading and listening to music on my stupid iPod, but neither worked- not when my mind was going a hundred miles a minute on all the worst possibilities.

It wasn't meant to be a difficult hunt, going after a rawhead. Yet it all went wrong far too quickly, Dean yelled for Sam and I to get the children out of the basement while he stayed behind fighting the thing. It would be a single shot with a taser, easy to mess up on, truthfully, which is why I had given mine up for him to have as an extra one before I carried a young boy out. It was all wrong. So so wrong. He shot the thing but they both happened to be standing in a small puddle of water, and water conducts stupid electricity and he got hurt too.

Sam had found him. We called for an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital, he was unconscious the whole time.

Sam had to talk to the receptionist for insurance and then the cops explaining what happened and then a doctor. But they wanted to talk privately and he wanted to see Dean alone first. Which only increased my anxiety, Sam wouldn’t have done that unless something was horribly wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I felt like I was going to vomit or shake myself out of existence, maybe the latter would be better. Everyone around me wasn't much better, looking the same shade of nervousness. Some were crying, pacing, or on the phone talking rapidly. Hospitals were a horribly depressing place.

I’m unsure how much time passes, minutes, hours, an eternity? Sam walks towards me, tears in his eyes some clearly having spilled over by the redness of his cheeks. No. No. No.

I stand up walking to him almost without noticing as if it was all just natural, tears fill my own eyes and I can feel my hands shaking. No. No. He wouldn't be crying if–

“Sam?” I said weakly, my voice wobbling horribly. I swallow down a knot in my throat, this couldn't be happening. No.

He drops his head down, his hair covering his face and likely more tears that spilled over. “Sam,” I say again my voice breaking. I couldn't lose someone else, couldn't lose anyone else. He finally lifts his head, barely being able to hold eye contact. He seems to wobble and all at once he falls into me, I hold him, his head dropping awkwardly into my neck, from the height difference, broken sobs leaving his mouth. He hugs me tightly, grasping desperately to the back of my shirt. Something is horribly wrong. I blink back my tears, I had to be strong for Sammy. This was his brother, I might have lost both my parents but I couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose my brother.

My neck grows damp but I ignore it. I hold the back of his head, holding him, no comforting words forming in my mind. “Sam” I breathe. I felt like I was going insane. He pulls himself away, keeping me in arm's distance. His face is red and blotchy from crying, and his hair is a mess. “Please” I begged one last time, my voice quivering.

He sniffles hard, but I do not expect him to be strong, “He has a month, at best” his voice is coarse and shaky but the words feel like they came out in slow motion. Everything freezes, turning into a buzz of white noise. I can feel tears spill down my cheeks but I can’t move. I can’t. No. He can’t be dying. No. No. He wasn’t allowed to. The world seemed to shatter, no, maybe that was my heart. I can feel it beating in my ears, everything else fading away. His mouth moves, he is saying something else but I cannot hear him over the sterile noise of the world crumbling. I don't understand. My throat is so tight I feel like I might just break right there. My knees feel weak and the floor seems closer than before.

Sam pulls me into him, holding me tightly once again, his hands cradling my head as a choked sob leaves my lips. Tears pour down my eyes, he promised. All those months ago he promised he wouldn’t leave me, it was a stupid and fruitless promise but I believed it.

He couldn’t die. He can’t, he can’t die. No one else. Not again.

All too soon Sam pulls back, his arms being the only thing that seems to be holding me up. I can barely make out his features behind my own teary eyes. “He wanted me to come get you, ‘wouldn’t talk without you there” he croaks. A whole new sob breaks through my lips, I wasn't strong enough for this. I went through this twice, I could not take another. Tear after tear passes down my face, my cheeks stiff with it. I shake my head, this can’t be happening again, but even so, I let him pull me down the halls to his room trying my best to blink away my never-ending tears. But it was useless, not when it felt like I was being torn in two.

I stopped at the threshold of the doorway, he looked so weak, he was so pale and he had dark circles under his eyes that were not there hours before. An IV sticks out of his arm along with various machines around him, including an EKG. New tears fall over the rim of my eyes and I have to force my hand to clasp my mouth to hide another sob. Sam enters the room, his face hard and rid of any of the emotions he showed just moments ago. How could he do that?

Dean’s eyes are focused on the TV, but even from where I was partially hiding I could see his green eyes had grown dull, “Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible” he jokes but he sounded weak too, his voice rid of its usual playful tone and familiar gruffness. Sam shakes his head and sighs, his ability to not break down in front of his brother was impressive to the point of it being scary, “I talked to your doctor.” But Dean continues to ignore anything that wasn’t that stupid TV playing commercials, “That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down” he responds instead. I want to laugh and ask him what the cute laundry bear ever did to him but I could not find it within me to be humorous, “Dean” I plead weakly my voice betraying me with its cracking. That gets his attention.

His eyes snapped up to where I stood, leaning against the doorframe to prevent myself from crumbling to the floor. His face immediately fills with worry, his eyes softening which is ironic considering who’s in the hospital bed. Without looking away from me he turned off the TV, I could tell he was thinking and worrying over something as he stared at me but I could not look at him without new tears falling. “Yeah. All right, well, ‘looks like you're gonna leave town without me” he finally says, my eyes snap back to him but he has already turned his attention to his brother. “What the hell are you talking about?” I step into the room, my sadness mixing too closely with frustration over his stupid declaration. “We are not gonna leave you here” Sam adds in sternly. “Hey, you better take care of that car” he points at Sam, any hint of a joke void from his voice, “Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass.”

My eyebrows scrunched together, “what's wrong with you?” I accuse, “How are you just accepting this? You are young and have so much life ahead of you” For each word that passed my lips tears followed, my resolve too thin to exist. “You’re meant to grow old, and…and yell at kids to get off your lawn as you work on Baby and maybe other cars with a pet at your side and a lovely home. You’re meant to annoy your brother and me with stupid calls and the same old rock music.” I swallow roughly, ignoring the subtle shock on his face, “It’ll be beautiful and wonderful and we will all be there to watch it happen because you have to live.” My chest heaves, and I’m surprised I have any more tears to give. Life was too cruel before to allow me the opportunity to beg someone to stay as if that feat alone was enough to keep someone alive.

Silence envelopes the room, his eyes are wide and his lips are slightly agape. I don’t believe in God, but I would get on my knees right now and beg and plead and do anything he ever wanted if it meant Dean living. He sighs after what feels like forever, “Look, what can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.” I don’t understand how he could just dwindle his life down to bad luck and a wrong straw. Tears well in my eyes and I have the urge to smack some sense into him. “Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options” Sam insists, his voice breaking slightly. “What options?” Dean asks, “Yeah, burial or cremation?” he pauses for a moment his “joke” not landing, “And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. How many people will I have to lose until it's enough to feed the glutenous wrath of death? First, it was my mother growing sick and dying, neither my brother nor I was allowed to see her in such a state not even to say goodbye. Then my Dad, who grew reckless in the wake of his only love's death, the coldness about him we had heard about only in stories returning to consume him completely until he drove himself into the ground. I always thought I was most like my mother, but now in the wake of this maybe I am my father's daughter.

I wipe away my tears roughly before clenching my hands, needing my nails to dig into my palms to ground me. “Let me try and heal you,” I say as firmly as my voice will allow. I've never done such a thing on a serious scale, it never got to the point where I felt desperate enough to toe the line of my own morals. But this, for him I would and I would not stay awake at night contemplating my selfishness.

Dean’s POV

Her face was red from crying, and her e/c eyes were filled with deep sadness. She looked shattered, and even so, she was beautiful.

I know I wasn’t being fair to her or Sam. But I always knew I’d die on a hunt, I long accepted it so her big glossy eyes would do nothing to change that fact. Even if it broke her, both of them, which I knew I was already doing. But I also know that sugar-coated truths would only hurt them more, I wasn’t going to allow them to get hopeful not when it would ruin them.

“Please?” she pleads quietly. My resolve breaks, my heart lurches as if it was trying to get closer to her and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the heart attack.

This was for the better, if they saw nothing would work early on they’d hopefully accept my death quicker. Plus I knew she’d stay up every night wondering what more she could have done for me, she’d obsess over it until it broke her all over again. I give her a sharp nod not trusting my voice, her eyes seem to light up a little, and that enough was all the excuse I needed.

She steps closer to my bed, careful not to trip over the wires connecting to me. She got close enough where I could smell her perfume, something sweet and flowery, and undeniably her, I felt warmer just from her closeness. She swallows roughly, “It works better if I can touch you…without the barrier of clothes.” Under any other circumstance I would most likely be flustered by her shy request, I mean this is what I’ve always wanted– to have her. But time was not on my side and I’d never get a chance to tell her, whenever it was I planned on doing so– to do so now with only a week to live would be too cruel. If she didn't like me back I’d die at least knowing and maybe I’d die with a broken heart or whatever crap people complain about. But if she did like me, which Sam insists she does, then a week wouldn't be long enough.

I lift the scratchy hospital shirt, hoping neither saw how much energy the simple action took. She looked nervous as she stared at my bare chest but I could see the hard look of determination in her eyes, she needed this. Carefully she places her hands on the center of my chest, her hands freezing as I suspected they would be but I don't cower from her gentle touch I lean into it further. I bask in it, small sparks igniting where she touched and it had nothing to do with her abilities. She looks up at me, watching my face for any warnings as her own e/c eyes turn to purple and pure warmth extends from her palm seeping into my skin. Maybe I should have been scared, but she was looking at me so gently and she's so beautiful that she must be an angel, and I'm only half the man she deserves.

I suck in a deep breath, clarity hitting me like an arrow, the grogginess and pain I felt melting into a puddle and being replaced with her. It felt like she was cradling my heart, caressing it gently like she would my face, her kindness and love seeping into the vessel, and truthfully I don't ever want it back. She could have my heart. She could have every part of me, and I'd never ask for it back. It's hers. I'm hers. My mouth fell agape, her hair fell onto her face, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel the tension leave my shoulders and it was like everything I'd been carrying was lifted away. I don't care if she was healing me or not, I want her hands on me, I want to feel her. Just her. She was the sun and I was a fool begging to be closer, even if it burned, even if it was impossible.

Her hands begin to shake violently, but she pushes on, she holds on to me. Her fingers look like they want to curl and dig into my skin and it's clear she's fighting against the instinct, she doesn't want to hurt me not that I would mind any marks she printed into my skin. She lets her head hang, closing her eyes, “Oh fuck” she whines quietly and I have to desperately keep my mind clean. ‘Not the time to have those thoughts or acknowledge how hot that was. I lift a hand pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, keeping my hand there to hold her. Again I have to force away any ideas of what noises I could get her to make in a similar position. She looks up at me from her lashes as she bites down on her bottom lip hard, and I wonder how much longer I can keep my mind clean.

Suddenly deep crimson drips down her upper lip, and she begins to shake more. “Wait, wait Y/N” I breathe, looking from her over to Sam with concern. He pulls her off of me, she looks drained and paler than I know I am. She wipes at her nose, the blood has seemingly stopped, but she still shakes and wobbles. Sam pushes her down onto a nearby seat and I pull down my shirt, “How do you feel?” he asks me. “Peachy” I respond, smirking. He rolls his eyes, “I’m being serious. Did it work?”

“I feel better, not as weak” I answer truthfully. She nodded her head, her voice quieter than moments before, “Call for a nurse we should see if anything physically changed.”

“What about you? What was all that?” I ask. She shrugs, “‘Never really done it on a scale like this before, but it takes a lot out of you.”

Your POV

The doctor finally comes back, sifting through the papers on his clipboard, he looks shocked and confused which I hope is for the better because being lightheaded and on the verge of passing out would be worth it. “‘Looks like there has been some improvement, which would explain why you feel better,” he says, the room growing quiet with hope, “The difference is slight but well enough to know it wasn't a fluke” he looks up, “But I’d say it wasn't enough to change the outcome, I’m sorry.” Somehow the second time was worse. Hope was worse. “Thank you, Doctor” Sam replies sadly, and with a nod, the doctor leaves but does not take our sorrow with him.

“I can keep trying. Eventually, it will add up, and the more I do it the longer I’d be able to go” I offer, desperation clear on my tongue that it's almost embarrassing. “We can keep trying that but we should look at other options too” Sam adds. I nod my head vigorously in agreement. “You shouldn't get your hopes up, I’ve already accepted I’m gonna die you should too” Dean responds instead.

“Not happenin’” Sam retorts.

After we used up all our visiting hours we headed to the library, skipping out on eating to research for hours on both supernatural and not– just anything related to heart conditions and healing. I didn't ask why Sam didn't stay with his brother, he was family so he didn't have to follow visitation hours but I also figured he would rather spend his time trying to find a solution. Currently, Sam went the more “normal” route, pulling and printing articles on heart surgeries and other doctor stuff while calling several people. At the same time, I delved into the dark that is the unnatural.

Sam left a while ago, heading back to the motel with all his articles. I insisted on staying behind to “look for more,” in reality, I was going to make a call. The library closed in less than an hour and I already researched several Gods associated with healing, the side of my hand had turned dark with the ink stains. Though it was unsuccessful it was helpful for two reasons; one I at least looked, meaning it was one more thing I could check off, and two it pushed me to make a call I wasn't sure I was ready for.

What I needed was to be home, to look through many books on mythology and witchcraft, there I would find something but that was halfway across the country and each day that passed would be a day wasted. And teleporting books here wouldn't be helpful when there were so many of them and I wasn't sure where I would even begin.

I stare at my phone on the table, this shouldn't be a big deal. I call her all the time, well not as of late which I already got yelled at for. No, none of that mattered. She could lecture me a hundred times or resent me for months. I needed to help Dean. I swiftly pick up my phone, scrolling down to her contact, I don't hesitate to hit “call”, I’ve already hesitated too many times today.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, “Adeline” I start my voice already cracking with emotion. I can almost hear her jump to her feet, “Y/N?! What happened? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I did not think I had any more tears left but was proven wrong when another tear slipped down my cheek, “Dean he’s…” I couldn’t say it, couldn't make it more real than it already was. I swallow roughly, trying to cram down my emotions for the time being, I’ve cried enough today, “Dean he’s dying, and I don't know–” a strangled sob leaves my lips and I have to force myself together resting my head on my hand for support, “I don't know what to do” I finished weakly. I hear her suck in a deep breath and it only makes me feel worse, “I-I want help…I need help,” I add, “I tried healing him, the doctor said the effect was minor but I’m gonna keep doing it, even if it takes a lot out of me.”

She exhales, “I’m really sorry Y/N”. I shake my head even though I know she can't see me. I ignored her comment, there was nothing to be sorry for because he was going to be alright, “Do you have any ideas? Maybe I’m doing something wrong or could be doing it better?”

She goes quiet again and it is hard to hold on to hope, “please,” I say quietly hoping she can hear me. She clears her throat, her voice cold and serious, “I’d try some herbal tea, one with healing properties any one of it will help or at least make him more comfortable.” I hum picking up my pen again, writing ‘herbal tea’ on my arm, I didn’t want to risk forgetting.

She sighs again, but it isn’t disappointed or even exhausted, “Don’t…don’t get your hopes up.” I shake my head vigorously again, “I’m not listening to this. I called for help cause you’re the only person I can think of who would know even a wisp of this. I’m desperate for help, not a lecture.” I know I was being cruel, ‘could hear it. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. “No, Y/N please listen. This isn’t an easy task, honestly, I’d like to say it’s impossible but I don’t want you to hang up on me. This doesn't come without great sacrifice.”

“And what if I’m okay with that?” I snap back, “I’m willing to sacrifice.”

“This is different,” she spits a hint of anger on her tongue, “I don’t mean just going against everything you believe in or against your mother's words. I mean making deals with demons, where you could lose your soul or your life or what makes you whole or maybe even worse.” I go quiet. I know she’s right, she always is. But I know my answer, I know what I’m willing to do, “I said I’m willing to make sacrifices.”

“Are you?” she counters. And without hesitation, I answer, “I love him.” I could tell she was getting frustrated with me, for not listening to her warning or taking her seriously even though I was. Of course, I know this is dark and messy territory, but that did not concern me. I can hear her swallow, her voice turning hard again, “What you would need to do would be more than love him.”

“Would it?” I counter.

“Yes,” she replies sternly, “And I won’t help you with that.” It was hard to be mad at her, she was just watching out for me trying to protect me. That was her job after all. But I wanted so desperately for him to be okay, he had to be. “Whether you help me or not, I will do everything in my power to fix this. He won't die.”

“I know you will. That’s what scares me.”

My eyebrows furrow, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never will,” she huffs out a breath, “I don’t want you to regret anything.” I couldn't vocalize it, did not even know how to make her understand what I felt–that even if I lost him now if I never saw him again. If I sat on his grave weeping for the man I loved with new flowers in my hand each day and each year. If I never got to hold his hand again. If I never got to see him smile again– that cocky smile. Even if I never got to tell him that I loved him…even then, I would never regret knowing him. Never regret the first time we met and never, never regret loving him. But I don’t say that, instead settling for, “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She turns serious once more, determined even, “You won’t. I’m on my way to your place now, I’ll go through your books, and I’ll call you back the second I find something.” She may not agree with my decisions all the time, and might even be upset that we don’t talk as much anymore but at the end of the day we’re best friends–more than that really, “Thank you, Adeline.”

“Of course, now don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she laughs lightly, “I love you, talk to you later.” I smile for the first time in hours, “I love you too, be safe.”

I let myself into the motel room. Sam doesn’t look up from his place on the bed, papers surround him, some in the garbage which I assume were ones that won't work out. I make my way to the small table in the corner of the room, avoiding looking at where Dean slept the night before. I take out my spellbook, my small journal, and my laptop. My eyes were killing me, most likely from crying so much before.

The next few days would follow a similar pattern, Sam would fall asleep but never for very long before getting coffee and a quick bite to eat before continuing his search. And I spent the nights awake, sleep could not find me at the edge of the void. At some point crumbled pieces of paper surrounded me and I felt like a college student again, I didn't want to do anything but look for an answer. Adeline called once that first night, but it didn't wind up leading anywhere.

The second morning I prepared tea for Dean, arriving at the hospital with the steaming cup and food that wasn't from the hospital. He looked happy to see me and complained about how bored he was there. He looked horrible, and it hurt my chest to see him like that so I just nodded to what he said. He drank the tea with nearly no complaint but instead curiosity, I explained I had boiled Sun water, before making homemade ginger tea adding cinnamon sticks, chamomile, and honey for taste. He asked me to explain to him why I chose each one, though I wasn't sure he truly cared and just wanted to hear me speak since he was relentless with his questions. I healed him again and laid with him when he asked. Then the rest of the while we talked as I did research.

Somehow being there, and watching him worsen was worse than not being there at all. I think I understand now why we weren't allowed to be there when my mom died. I would have rathered someone just stabbed me in the heart over and over then see his eyes grow duller. I healed him again before I was kicked out.

I felt hopeless. I wasn't going to give up but I felt hopeless. It was like I wasn't myself but watching myself go through the motions.

The second night wasn't much better. I slept for a couple of hours only to wake up crying. I didn't try to sleep after that. I prayed to God that night. I hadn't done that in years. I hadn't begged him for mercy since my mother died. I think I was on my knees for hours, the harsh carpet digging into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I barely felt it after a while. I apologized for not praying in years, for only praying when it benefited me which I knew was selfish. I asked for help, and begged for it. I needed him to help Dean. I said I’d do anything he wanted if he did that, even if it meant becoming a nun. I felt incredibly embarrassed begging like that, I didn't even believe in God yet there I was my hands pressed together and the carpet beneath my knees. I cried again that night, for everyone I've lost and how far I would go to save another.

Adeline was wrong, I decided. Sacrifice didn't come with the solution, it came with the search for the answer. Like I said, I didn't feel like myself. I knew I was losing myself each hour that passed and I knew it would only get worse if he did die.

On the third morning, I did the same thing I did the morning before. But after healing him for the first time that morning, I broke in front of him. “I don't want you to go,” I told him, sobbing. He just held me against him even though I knew it hurt him, but he just stroked my head anyway mumbling “I know, I know” into my hair. I could hear his voice breaking with each letter; somehow, that was worse than seeing him act as if he didn't care. Then very quietly he whispered, “I don't know how to comfort someone when I know I’m the source of their pain.”

They did more tests on him. He wasn't getting better, at least not fast enough. It seemed my healing was just halting its progress momentarily, in a sense slowing it down before it continued. I needed to stay on him longer but I wasn’t sure how and ‘could barely make it past 20 minutes before I began to shake so badly and feel so faint like my chest was being pulled open with the sharp nails of cold hands.

I went back to the motel dragging my feet. It had been three days and we had nothing to show for it but failed attempts which I suppose is better than no attempts though it didn’t much feel that way. When I got there I returned to my corner at the table, moving away my mess of “work” with a swipe of my arm. I crumble into the wooden chair, laying my forehead on the edge of the table, I didn’t know what to do. I’d keep looking no matter what, that would not change. I would search through every book on every myth, god, folklore, anything. I’d do whatever it took, I just hoped time would not beat us to the finish line.

With a huff, I pulled my latest book from the library closer to me, a book on Greek Gods. I pick up where I left off in the thick book on the God of healing and medicine Asclepius. I read the passage about him, and it seemed promising, “He was considered a symbol of medical knowledge, skill, and wisdom. Known for his ability to heal the sick and revive the dead, Asclepius played an essential role in Greek religious and medical traditions…He was known for his exceptional skill in diagnosing diseases and treating wounds. His abilities were so profound that he could even bring the dead back to life, a talent that eventually led to his downfall…The Asclepieia, healing temples dedicated to the god, were spread throughout Greece and were renowned centers of medical practice. Pilgrims would travel great distances to seek healing, engaging in purification rituals, sacrifices, and dream incubation, where they would sleep in the temple and receive divine guidance through dreams.”

The rest of the chapter contains no more info on the healing aspect but just more of his legacy and whatnot. I close the book sharply, pulling open my laptop to do more research on him. Maybe a temple still existed, and considering Pilgrims there might even be one in America somewhere. Just as I type the temple name into Google a knock sounds from the door.

For a moment I think Sam forgot his keys, but when I turned to where he always was he was there. He looks at me confused and I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe it’s room service?” He answers by going to the door and opening it curiously. I watch from my seat, tilting my chair back to get a better look. But it is not room service, or someone knocking at the wrong door, it’s Dean. I almost fall backward, my chair slams forward back on all four legs I shoot up from my seat.

He leans on the doorframe, holding his side. He still has dark circles under his eyes and just looks sickly which is only accentuated by the black zip-up he wore, which was odd for him he never really wore sweaters. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam exclaims his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. Dean limps his way just a little bit further into the room, leaning on a dresser next to the door, “I checked myself out,” he responds placing all his weight on the thing. I didn't even know a sick patient could check themselves out like that. “What, are you crazy?” Sam exclaims.

Dean shrugs, “Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He turns his head to wink at me and gives me that devilish smile. My jaw dropped, baffled wasn't even the word to explain it. This had to be the most Dean Winchester thing Dean could have ever done, I could not fathom it. I wanted to call him an idiot but I was too shocked to give any response. Sam huffs a laugh as he shuts the door, “You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-danger-thing? It’s crap. I can see right through it, we both can.”

Dean moves himself further into the room leaning on anything he could, “Yeah, whatever, dude. Have either of you even slept? You look worse than me.” Sam helps him to the bed, sitting him down, “We’ve been scouring the Internet for the last three days.”

I sit back in my chair, scooting it so I can face them both, “I don't know how either of our laptops survived this. Late at night, I think I can hear it cry.”

Dean purses his lips, “Lack of sleep has made you crazy.” It was my turn to huff a laugh, and for that fraction of a second everything felt normal. But that moment of normalcy breaks as Sam adds, “I’ve also called every contact in Dad’s journal.” I was brought right back to the present, back to the reason we were doing all of this to begin with. “For what?” Dean asks.

“For a way to help you,” Sam explains, “One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

“Wait, why didn't you tell me sooner?” I ask.

“He called back when you were with Dean,” he answers, “I was going to tell you when you came back but didn't get the chance before he decided to break out.” I hum an ‘oh’ in response. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?” Dean chimes in, hunched over.

“I’m not gonna let you die, period. We’re going” Sam says, end of discussion.

The Impala bumps along the gravel road, I was beyond happy we finally arrived. The sky was cloudy and grey with a thin layer of mist clinging to everything, it reflected the past couple of days and the ride quite perfectly. Dean rested in the back seat the entire time, his face scrunched in discomfort, we stopped a couple of times so I could jump back there and heal him for a short while.

The car comes to a full stop among others in a large green field, a large white circus tent stealing the show. A sign nearby reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle. I was skeptical, but like Sam said our options were low. I wasn’t religious and certainly hated when things like this existed, giving people false hope and feeding them lies, when they could be looking at real options and getting real help but I guess I was being a hypocrite considering how I spent my time kneeling to a God I didn't believe in. Many people walked towards it, all sick, some with canes, walkers, breathing devices, etc. I get out of the car slowly, eyeing the scene carefully. We’re all just desperate people, hoping a tent in the middle of nowhere will save our loved ones.

Sam gets out of the car, rounding the vehicle to help his brother get out of the car. Dean grimaces as he tries to lift himself, “I got ya” Sam tells him trying to grab him but Dean shoves him away, “I got it” he spits. He fixes himself, pissed off, but uses the car to hold himself up leaning on it, “Man, you are a lying bastard. ‘Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.”

“I believe I said a specialist” Sam corrects. I squint my eyes at him, “You’re not slick. But…” I say stretching out the word, “We should try, at the very least.”

“And this guy is supposed to be the real deal” Sam adds, nodding. Dean scuffs, rolling his eyes, “I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

An old woman walks by holding a big black umbrella, “Reverend LeGrange is a great man” she declares. “Yeah, that’s nice” Dean sarcastically remarks. I hold back on batting his arm as I would normally, “Be nice” I mumble instead.

We walk away from the old lady and the car heading toward the tent, walking past an angry man who is struggling against an officers hold, “I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he’s milking all these people of their hard-earned money.” I suck in a sharp breath, mumbling an “Amen, brother” underneath my breath. But the Sheriff seems to ignore the man's declaration, holding him back while trying to lead him away, “Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go. Move it.” The man huffs, walking away with the Sheriff. “I take it he’s not part of the flock” Dean remarks.

Sam purses his lips, half shrugging, “When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy.”

Dean stops short, getting our attention and making us stop too, “I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer? And what about you Y/N you don’t believe in this crap.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, “You're right. I don’t. And I think making a whole religion out of it that smells more like a cult than anything, it’s ridiculous. But there’s a good chance this is legit,” I drop my hands back at my side, “He’s probably using magic like I was doing with you, it's just that he's, hopefully, more successful.” He pressed his lips together tightly, I got him there. “See, maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean,” Sam adds.

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean exclaims, “Reality. And this won’t work. I mean do you really think this guy is a dude-witch.”

I purse my lips, “I’m pretty sure the term would be a wizard, but, uh, I don't know. I’d have to see it in action to know for certain along with anything around him while he works, rituals and stuff.” I pause for a moment, thinking it over, “I do hope he’s real and not an elaborate con artist, and I hope he’s better than me at the whole healing thing.” I was being blatantly honest. I hoped it would encourage Dean to not fight this version of help, and I truly did wish this guy could help. “And if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” Sam chimes in, a hint of annoyance on his tongue. A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches, “Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

Dean’s POV

I snapped in a moment of weakness and said too much. “Dean” she sighs, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm, stepping closer to me almost subconsciously. I didn’t want a lecture full of sappy nonsense and corny poetry. She must have known that because she smiled sadly, her lip curving up on one side, my eyes following the movement, “Good does exist, it has to,” she says simply ever the optimist. She tilts her head slightly, looking up at me through her curled eyelashes, her hand still on my arm, my knees feel weak. “I'm sure you can think of at least one good person. Of course, the terms good and evil are subjective…” she cuts her cute rambling off, “but you get what I mean.”

I guess she was right. Sammy’s a good person sometimes a total asshole but I guess that came with the territory of being brothers. And Y/N’s the definition of being a good person, she’s always been kind even to people who didn't deserve it, including me. I remember a couple of times I was cruel to her when we were kids, always about her being a witch, yet for some reason she accepted my apology and even wanted to keep being friends. For a long time, I didn’t understand her, ‘how she could be sweet and smile at a world filled with darkness. Sometimes I think I still don't get her. “Please just give it a try,” she pleads, “And if it doesn't work or turns out to be a con you can make fun of us the whole way back.”

I studied her again, she looked drained and I knew she hadn't been sleeping all because of me. “Fine” I huff. She bites back a smile and suddenly complying with this stupid faith healer was worth it.

“And who knows, maybe God works in mysterious ways” an unfamiliar voice butts in. I didn't care to look who it was, solely focused on the girl who still had her hand on me; a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, one I hadn't seen in three days. “Maybe he does” I respond, half heartily, I look up briefly catching the eyes of an attractive blonde holding a black umbrella. I averted my eyes back to my girl, but she was already looking away at the woman who interrupted us, her hand slipped down my arm.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N” she introduces herself, holding out the hand that was touching me only moments ago. She accepts her hand, “Layla. And these two?” Layla says looking past her. “Sam,” he introduces himself before motioning to me, “Dean.” I give her a tightlipped smile in response.

She smiles at me, “So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?” She was attractive, you’d have to be blind not to see it but my interest is elsewhere. I can't fool myself into thinking that'll work out. Hell, I'm probably gonna end up dead. And yeah, it's harsh, but I can't shake the feeling that I'd rather spend what time I've got with Y/N, not waste it chasing after other girls just to fill the gap she left without even knowing it. I’m self-aware enough to know that. “Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us” I muse. An older woman with blondish-gray hair walks over, putting an arm around the girl, “Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” Both women smile at us before walking away.

“Well, you heard the woman,” Y/N starts, “We should get you inside.” Sam nods leading the way.

Your POV

The tent is packed, full of people trying to find seats, it smells of hope and despair if that’s possible. “Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over,” Dean remarks, nodding over to a camera in the corner. Did churches have cameras? “I guess it makes sense,” I try to reason, “‘probably get more people like that dude outside protesting, maybe even getting violent.”

Dean slips away sitting down on one of the foldable chairs. “Hey no,” I point at him, “You are not gonna be all brooding and hide in the back.” His shoulders slump, “Let’s sit here.”

“No” I answer simply, eyebrows scrunched. He opens his mouth in a retort but his brother steps in, putting an arm around him and practically dragging him from the seat and towards the front, “Oh, come, on, Sam” Dean growls. Mistaking his anger for pain Sam halts in his movements, “You alright?”

“This is ridiculous” Dean bites, slapping his brother’s hands away, “I’m good, dude, get off of me.” I roll my eyes at their behavior, even in public, and even with one of them being severely sick they could still act childish and make a scene. I look around the closer rows, looking for seats, “Look at that” I smile turning back to the boys, “seats” I point to three empty seats not only close to the front but right behind Layla, the girl from before. She seemed nice, maybe a little strange in randomly joining the conversation but it wasn’t a big deal. “Perfect” Sam agrees, lightly shoving his brother in that direction. “Yeah, perfect” Dean remarks, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Take the aisle,” Sam tells his brother before moving into the row of seats, I move in after him taking the seat between them. Dean grumbles something, his face having ‘irritable’ all over it, but he sits quietly, arms crossed.

An old man with white hair and sunglasses steps onto the stage with the help of an older woman with brown hair tied back. He must be the famous Roy LeGrange, “Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says with a classic southern accent, the crowd muttering agreements, “Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

“He could say that aga–'' I began to mumble. “Huh” I hum to myself, my eyes catching on a particular religious item, why would there be a Celtic cross? I mean the cross represented the blending of the Celts and Christians but there are many separations between the two from believing in multiple gods to human sacrifice–

“But, I say to you, God is watching,” he preaches, and if I wasn't so focused on that wooden cross I might have rolled my eyes forgetting my manners, especially when the crowd responded with “Yes he is.” It sounded very cultish, the hair on my arms standing up. Maybe it wasn’t that weird for there to be a Celtic cross, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. I racked my brain for information on it, and I just couldn’t see it used in Christian churches anymore. Though of course, I could be wrong, it's not like I go to church every day or even once a week. But again it felt a little too weird to just brush off–

“God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt” Roy continued getting loud cheering and more murmuring. I look at the people around me strangely, I forget how powerful religion is…

Speaking of which, that damn Celtic cross again. Alright, think. The Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension, the vertical arm represents the life aspect while the horizontal arm signifies death, the circle acting as a portal to transformation. In simpler terms, the cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the Celtic cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. But what does that mean here? Okay, well he’s supposedly healing people which would be the life aspect and the death could represent the healing cheating death? No, that sounded like a stretch. Maybe this was all a stretch and the cross meant nothing. I’m just overreacting because I'm scared of what will become of this if this man was a con or whatever else. Yeah, that makes more sense—

“It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts,” Roy proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers just loud enough for Sam and me to hear, “and into their wallets.” But it wasn’t quiet enough, “You think so, young man?” Oh, that was weird. The crowd falls dead silent, “Sorry” Dean apologizes. “No, no. Don’t be.” Roy shakes his head, “Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” The crowd laughs but an unpleasant feeling worms itself into my stomach. It was innocent enough but something felt off and I don't think it has anything to do with Dean being scrutinized. “What’s your name, son?” Roy asks. He clears his throat, sitting straighter in his seat, “Dean.”

“Dean” Roy repeats nodding to himself, “I want…I want you to come up here with me.” My eyes widened, maybe God finally listened. “No, it’s okay” he shakes his head. “What are you doing?!” Sam whisper-yells, but his brother ignores him.

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy inquires.

“Well, yeah, but, uh…maybe you should just pick someone else” Dean attempts to reason. And I hate the way he doesn't believe he is worthy of saving. The crowd claps loudly, “Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Had we been here for any other reason I might have been more disturbed by that proclamation, but this was a chance. The crowd roars in excitement, voices mixed in encouragement. Dean looks overwhelmed, I place a hand on his knee gaining his attention quickly, “Dean, this is good, go” I whisper to him even though I was unsure of this whole thing and that odd cross. He studies me for half a moment, something I couldn't recognize passing over his features before he reluctantly raises, my hand slipping from his leg.

The woman from before helps Dean to the stage, situating him next to the healer, “You ready?” he asks Dean. “Look, no disrespect, but, uh, I’m not exactly a believer,” Dean says, looking between the crowd and the old man. But Roy just smiles, “You will be, son. You will be,” he turns to the crowd arms raised, “Pray with me, friends.” Again, almost like a cult, the crowd joins hands as Roy moves his hands to place on Dean; one on his shoulder and the other to the side of his head. I hold my breath, I want this to work so badly, I hadn't even begun to think of a plan B if this didn't.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes glaze over, it was never like that when I healed him, and then he seems to wobble sinking to his knees. I gasped, I didn't think it would be so intense or that my heart would beat so fast. A deep chill runs up my spine seeping into my bones, my skin prickles with goosebumps, the Celtic cross comes into view again and I suddenly feel sick, a horrible feeling tangling itself in between my stomach. I don't know where to look the cross or Dean, my eyes flipping between the two rapidly all until Dean's eyes roll back and he crumbles down onto the stage floor. Sam manages to jump over me, using his long legs to his advantage he gets to the stage in seconds grabbing the front of Dean's hoodie. I catch up quickly, glad we were close to the stage, I kneel in front of Dean his head lulling back. The loud noise of the crowd cheering becomes nothing but background noise, as I check his pulse my fingers against the side of his neck the steady but fast beating of his heart thumping below my touch.

With a sudden gasp his eyes shoot open, eyes wide and mouth agape.

I tap my foot impatiently on the clean floors of the hospital, thankful that right after testing I was allowed to be in the room. Dean looked better, he moved normally and his color was back, but we all agreed we should check officially. Now we were waiting and although the room sparked with anxiety, the dark looming cloud had cleared up a lot, and once we knew for sure it would most likely be gone. I just wished the doctor would come quicker. “So, you really feel okay?” Sam asks for the hundredth time since Dean woke from being healed yesterday. Dean stares at him blankly, “I feel fine, Sam” he grumbles.

Finally, the Doctor walks in, reading from the charts on his clipboard, “Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still strange things happen.” The cloud fades away, and I don’t hold back my beaming smile. “What do you mean, strange?” Dean asks, his face serious rather than elated. “Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack,” the doctor shares. Dean nods, giving the man a handshake, “Thanks, Doc.” The man leaves, closing the door behind him. “That’s odd,” Dean points out, referring to what the doctor said.

“Maybe it's a coincidence,” Sam shrugs, “People's hearts give out all the time, man.” I looked at him taken aback, what was he talking about, “Dude, what world are you living in?” He gives me a pointed look, annoyed with not only my response but also my not agreeing with him, “Do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life, Dean, and move on?”

“Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why” Dean bites back. I sigh, wishing we could just avoid this all, “Me neither.” Dean gives me a strange look, “You neither?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I just, I don’t know, when we sat down I recognized something which automatically made me suspicious. Then you know the whole thing was happening and, well, maybe it was just nerves but it got really cold and I felt sort of sick. Which really doesn't make sense, but I just had this weird feeling, I don’t know.”

“I felt cold too,” Dean answers, face scrunched, “When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong, ‘cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit.” Maybe it wasn’t nerves and I wasn’t crazy. Sam huffs, clearly trying to ignore the red flags here, “But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately.”

“Alright, but he literally saw something and I felt something.” I reason, “You can’t deny two people saying something’s up, and whatever it was there’s probably a reason why you couldn’t see it.”

“You’re just gonna need a little faith on this one, Sam” Dean muses, using his own words against him. Sam sighs, finally giving in, “Yeah, alright. So, what do you wanna do?”

Dean steps into the leader role again, as if nothing had happened, “I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. Y/N, we’re gonna visit the reverend.”

I sit next to Dean on the nice leather couch, Roy sitting across from us. He and his wife had been very understanding and didn’t question our want to speak to him about yesterday, I figure he got this a lot. “I feel great,” Dean answers the reverend, “Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.”

“A miracle is what happened,” Sue Ann, Roy’s wife and the woman from before answered, “Well, miracles come so often around Roy.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and nod, maybe it was just me but that response came off a little weird. I was getting a bad vibe from her, “So, um, when did these miracles start?” I ask Roy. Any desire to possibly learn from him had been subdued, caution taking its place. “Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'” He smiled sweetly at his wife before continuing, “I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” He takes off his black sunglasses, his eyes pure white, “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.” He puts the glasses back on, it was a touching story and his eyes added a horrifying touch but it just left more questions.

He seemed genuine, and I don’t think he would lie about being in a coma. When you’re sick like that, and experience something like that, you don’t create lies about your experience, not when it was traumatic like that. And staying on that belief, there was no way he suddenly just stopped having cancer and was able to heal people. He couldn’t have been responsible for whatever caused his initial health change. Which would then mean someone else was involved. “So then, you could just…heal people?” I ask.

“I discovered it afterward, yes,” he nods, "God's blessed me in many ways.” It didn’t add up. I couldn’t get it to add up in my head. Besides the whole no more sickness ideal, how could he just suddenly heal someone? I mean, how do you even discover you can? Was it an accident? Did the hypothetical person who might have caused him to get better tell him too? Or, tell him to try? Whereas for me I knew it was something I was capable of in general as a witch, but I also had many spell books, history books, journals, and everything to learn from. And if my mother had lived longer she would have been able to teach me it too.

“And his flock just swelled overnight,” Sue Ann added, her eyes full of endearment, “And this is just the beginning.” I study her for a moment, balancing on the thin line of suspicion and paranoia. There was nothing inherently wrong about her or what she said, and maybe it was my mind making up the fact that her last words were just a little aggressive.

“Can I ask you one last question?” Dean asks, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Of course you can,” Roy responded sincerely. He really does seem like a nice guy, genuine, and it could be my inherent lack of sleep that’s making me connect dots that might not even be there. “Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” My heart broke. Of course he didn’t feel adequate, especially when he tried convincing us for the last four days he wasn't worth saving, that we should give up and let him die. I place a careful hand on his knee, I don’t want to scare him away or clam up again, he never was very open. “Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me,” Roy answers, “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

Dean wets his lips, my eyes flickering up to the movement, he leans forward slightly, “What did you see in my heart?” I move my gaze away catching on Sue Ann’s innocent movement of picking up her glass of water, but as she leans over her necklace escapes from its place beneath her shirt. A small wooden Celtic Cross held by a thin silver chain, she catches my eyes, covering the cross with her hand and giving me an innocent smile. She assumes I would think it's just any ol’ cross, she does run religious ceremonies so such a simple totem shouldn’t mean anything else. Maybe there were dots to connect after all, and it was on full display ready to be fastened. I focused my attention back on the conversation, I left my bag in the car so I’d have to wait, and in the meanwhile, I did not wish for her to get suspicious of me either.

Roy smiles softly, “A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.” I feel Dean tense beneath my hand, his face full of shock. Whether Roy did see something or not, it might have been the thing Dean needed to hear regardless.

I wanted to run back to the car and look through my spell book and journal, but Sue Ann was seeing us out and if I had easily become suspicious of her then it was possible she would grow suspicious of what I knew too. I could almost feel her gaze burning into the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Dean's warm hand on the small of my back leading me down the short wooden stairs of their porch. But I had not expected to see Layla and the woman she was with before, I think her mother. “Dean, Y/N, hey,” she greets. “Hey,” Dean responds just as we reach ground level, his hand pressing further into my back before curling around my waist, his hand lying on my side before he pushes me closer against him. I don’t know why he was being so touchy, not that I was exactly complaining. I welcomed it and the warmth it brought.

“How ‘you feeling?” She asks him, tilting her head slightly, her face beaming in sincerity. “I feel good. Cured, I guess. What are you doing here?” he responds.

“You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend.” Layla nods toward the door prompting Sue Ann to step fully onto the porch rather than standing halfway between the screen door. “Layla?” she asks, probably not having seen her from where she stood. “Yes, I'm here again,” Layla answers softly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now.” Sue Ann informed, nodding sympathetically. Every word she said just made me want to turn around and head to the car, I was itching for it. I wondered if Dean could feel it from where he was touching me or just sensed it, giving me a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. But I couldn’t exactly say anything right now so I ignored his look.

“Sue Ann, please,” Layla’s mom pleads, “This is our sixth time, he's got to see us.”

“Roy is well aware of Layla's situation,” Sue Ann declares harshly, “And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke.” And with that, she goes back inside. I might not know exactly what’s going on but her continuous frustrated comments regarding the healing and her perhaps overly religious nature were enough to make me antsy. We should really go to the car, call Sam to see what he found, or even just head to the hotel. Layla’s mom turns sharply to Dean, glaring at him she spits, “Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted.”

“Mom. Stop” Layla insists, looking at us nervously.

“No, Layla, this is too much” her mom fumed, “We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder.” I do feel bad for her, but it's not like we had control over any of this so she shouldn't be mad at us let alone Dean who was quite literally on his deathbed and might not have made it to the end of the week. I open my mouth to say exactly that, but Dean cuts me off before I get a chance, “Layla, what’s wrong?” he asks.

She looks everywhere but him, “I have this thing…”

“It's a brain tumor,” her mother cuts in bluntly, “It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say…” Layla cuts her mom off putting a hand on her shoulder. Maybe it was good Dean didn’t let me say what I wanted to, it would’ve been too cruel to do that to someone who was going to lose her daughter. It seemed like we were surrounded by death, more now than ever and I hadn’t thought that could be possible. I didn’t like death, or sickness though I suppose who does. “I'm sorry” Dean says, and I just nod in agreement not trusting my own voice. “It's okay” Layla responds softly. Her mother shakes her head slowly, “No. It isn't,” her sharp gaze is back on Dean, “Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?” Then she storms away, Layla hesitantly following. I know that woman was just upset and projecting her anger but it was not fair. Grief isn’t fair.

I look at Dean, his jaw clenched tightly, a slight furrow of his brow, his eyes a little far away in thought. I recognized that look. “Don’t listen to her” I declare, slipping from his hold to look at him straight on, “Death is not kind and it is not just, but you deserve to live. You deserve to live just as much as Layla or anyone else does. I know that look and I know you're thinking poorly of yourself, which I hate that you do so ‘cause you’re amazing and brave and kind and you care so much for others regardless of your gruff attitude.” His eyes are wide and written with shock but I continue, “So don’t think for one second that you don’t deserve to live.” I didn’t realize my chest was heaving, or that a lump had formed in my throat. I’ve watched too many people die, I’ve been down the rabbit hole of grief. I knew it well, it became a second skin. And I've watched someone run themselves into the ground because they didn’t feel like they deserved to live, or at least not when the love of their life was dead. I watched the evolution of that grief while dealing with my own and my brother’s. Death was not kind.

His jaw was slack with surprise and I know I said too much, I gave him a sharp awkward nod before turning around and heading for the car. I have something to look into.

Dean throws his keys on the bed the second we enter, the soft jingle of the metal ringing through the quiet room. I unzipped my sweatshirt, making my way towards Sam who sat at the small table to the side of the room. I take a seat next to him, putting my sweater behind me, “So what’d you find?” He seems hesitant to answer, his adam's apple bobbing, “Um, I’m sorry Dean” he says weakly looking up at his brother.

Dean takes his jacket off putting it on top of mine, his face written in confusion, “Sorry about what?” he asks, leaning on the back of my chair, his knuckles just barely brushing my back. Sam huffs out a breath, “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.” My eyes widened, I shouldn’t be surprised it was just another dot to be connected to whatever was going on with the damn cross. “The exact time I was healed” Dean adds solemnly, voicing what we were all thinking.

“Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits,” Sam explains, “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

“Oh frick” I mumble, apparently nothing is allowed to be easy for us. And I wasn’t exactly expecting that to be what we’re dealing with. “Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?” Dean asks for confirmation, even though it’s clear that’s what’s going on. “Somehow. LeGrange…” Sam sighs, “he's trading a life for another.”

Dean stands up straight backing away from the table, from Sam, “Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?” Sam shakes his head, “Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.”

“You never should've brought me here.” Dean declares, running a hand down his face.

“Dean, I was just trying to save your life.” Sam reasons.

“But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.”

“I didn't know,” Sam answers quietly.

I stand up abruptly, “Hey, there’s nothing we can do about that now. What’s done is done.” This all got very complicated very quickly, maybe Adeline was right you can’t save someone from death without making difficult decisions and sacrifices. “But what we can do is stop this from happening again, before it gets worse” I add and I know I don’t sound so convincing. You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, and we had crossed that line whether intentionally or not, just wanting to save Dean from death was already putting a foot past that line. “That’s the thing I don't understand, how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?” Sam questions. “Oh, he’s not doing it,” Dean answers, “Something else is doing it for him.”

“Do you mean the thing with Sue Ann?” I ask with a tilt of my head, maybe he had picked up on it too. “What?” his face contorts in confusion, “No? What are you talking about?”

“Oh” I say, now I'm confused, “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“What are both of you talking about?!” Sam exclaims looking between us. Dean sighs, pinching the space between his brows, “The old man I saw on stage” he explains, “I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew.” He pauses and I begin to wonder if it’s for dramatic affect. I motion my hand for him to continue and he does, “There’s only one thing that can give and take life like that. We’re dealing with a Reaper.”

“Pardon?” I say, my mouth agape. “Yeah,” Sam agrees, face just as shocked as I am, “You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

“No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper.” Dean clarifies, taking the seat I once occupied, “There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” My mouth still hangs open, it can never be something normal with us, ever. “But you said you saw a dude in a suit,” Sam voiced.

“What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?” Dean countered, “You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you guys couldn't.”

“Oh my god,” I say, the realization finally hitting me, “That’s where it comes in!” Both boys stare at me confused, “Where what comes in?” Sam asks.

“Okay, remember I said I recognized something and thought it was a little strange,” I paused waiting for them to nod before continuing, “It was a Celtic Cross, which was all I could focus on the entire time ‘cause like what is it doing there. And then I started thinking of what it symbolizes, here’s the interesting part” I point out, “So basically, the Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension. The cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. Which now makes total sense with the whole Reaper thing.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m not following here” Dean admits. I huff a laugh, “Right. Let me get to the point. So, as far as I know someone has to control the Reaper to, you know, dictate who lives and dies and to do that you need a spell. And I’ve seen it before…” I head over to my bag that I had just plopped down right next to the door when we walked in, I pull out my spell book holding it up, “This book has been in my family for generations. Now as you know my mother and her family didn’t see eye to eye, so when it eventually became my mothers and she ran away she changed a lot of stuff in here, crossing things out etc.” I open the book, flicking through the pages, “Basically there’s some pretty dark stuff in here, straight up black magic, some stuff even ancient,” finally I find the page, “Aha!” I turn the book around pointing at the page, “As you can see by the frowny face in the corner my mother did not appreciate this spell. Anyways, this is a binding spell for a Reaper where you create a black alter with bones and human blood etc, you get the point. You can then control it with a Celtic Cross, and before I saw Sue Ann with the necklace.”

“So you think Sue Ann is using dark magic to control a Reaper and kill people to save people because you saw a necklace?” Sam asks. I close the book, “Yeah, and it makes sense she was desperate when her husband was sick. I don’t know how I didn’t think of this sooner.” I knew this page existed, I've seen it in passing multiple times, especially some time since Dean was in the hospital. I guess I did listen to Adeline’s warning because even though I was ready to go far to save him I had kept away from pages like this. “Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean points out. I shrug, “Money? She’s psycho? I don’t know, maybe there’s a connection with the victims.”

“How would we break it?” Sam voices.

“We gotta get that cross from her, the one around her neck” I answer, “And let me just add, that Reaper is gonna be pissed, I mean the second it gains back its control…” I don’t need to say it out loud for them to get what I mean.

The Impala bounces down the badly graveled and potholed road, passing a sign that says Service Today. Hopefully we will be just in time. Dean brings the car to a stop and wordlessly we exit, “How do we get Sue Ann alone?” Sam asks. I nervously tap the side of my legs as we approach the tent, some guy handing out leaflets stops us, “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer.” Dean accepts the paper, “Amen brother” he nods. “You keep up the good work” Sam points at the man and he looks taken aback, he probably didn’t get many if any people that agreed. “Thank you,” he says, surprised.

Focusing back on the task at hand I open my mouth about to say something about not knowing where she goes when she does the spell when I spot her near the side of the tent, “I see her” I say already moving in that direction, “Find her spell book and keep Roy distracted too in case this does not work.” I don’t wait to hear a response before I’m running off to catch up with the woman playing God, “Sue Ann!” I call as I approach. She turns, her eyes wide, the necklace peeking out from her blouse, “Hi Y/N, what are you doing back here?” she asks sweetly.

“Oh well you guys are doing such amazing stuff here, wanted to say thank you one last time before we had to head off” I answered hoping my lie was believable. “Don’t thank us, you just thank the Lord” She says pointing to the night sky. I nod, I had to keep her talking long enough to figure out how to get the necklace off, “I have to admit I always had a hard time believing in the man upstairs, but you and Roy really turned me around.”

“Oh I’m glad, it’s never too late to welcome Him into your heart,” she smiles, “Now if you’ll excuse me I must get going, the sermon is starting.” Uh oh, do I just rip it off of her? No, she’s already turning around, “One last thing!” I call out getting her attention again. This time when she turns around she looks annoyed, “Uh, um…”come on Y/N come up with a lie or something, “I saw your necklace earlier today, I think you caught me staring,” I laugh, “I was just…I was wondering where you got it from I’ve never seen something like that before.” She clasps her necklace, “It’s just an old thing, I don’t remember where I got it from.”

“Could I maybe take a closer look at it? Maybe I can find a replica, you know, for my new found belief.” I was practically begging her to just let this be easy, maybe I should ask Dean to give me a lesson on finessing cause this is not working. She clasps it tighter, “I’m sorry, maybe later I really have to help with the sermon now.”

“Right, right sorry” she begins to turn around again but I call out again, “I know you said to thank the Lord and I have and will, it’s just” that gets her attention, “I feel like you and Roy are also responsible and like I said I came to thank you again…I know it’s maybe unprofessional or what not, but, could I just give you a hug? You’ve really done so much for us.” God I was bad at this. Her face softens a fraction, hey maybe I wasn’t bad at this, “Of course.” She holds out her arms and I move closer to allow myself to be embraced, I wrap my arms near her neck hoping she couldn’t feel the tension in my body. “Thank you” I say softly, all the while sneaking my hand to the clasp of her necklace.

She pulls away abruptly, once more grasping her necklace, “What is wrong with you!” she exclaims. I back up, hands up in defense, “After everything we’ve done to help you, healing your boy” she glares at me with wide eyes, “I never expected this from you Y/N.” I stare at her blankly, do I jump her? “You get out of here, before I call over those officers. Looks like your boy is already in trouble too. Disappointing, both of you.”

I look over my shoulder, Dean’s being pushed away by two cops and there’s a large crowd surrounding the tent including Roy. Maybe they evacuated. I turn back to Sue Ann but she’s already pushing past me, heading to the crowd. Oh no. Layla walks up to him next and she seems to be upset with him. How much did I miss? I rush towards Dean, Layla walking away, “What did you do?” I whisper yell. “You said to distract Roy!” he argues.

“I didn’t mean to get in trouble with the police!”

“‘Don’t matter, did you get it?” Dean asks with a quirked eyebrow. “No,” I grumble, “She caught me in my attempt and started lecturing me, I was thinking of just jumping her before she pointed out your run in with the police.”

“You were gonna jump the woman?!” He exclaims.

“I didn’t know what to do!!” I hissed, “And it’s not like I did it!” I let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my arms across my chest, “We need a new plan, where’s Sammy?”

“‘Think he’s waiting by the car, ‘hope he’s got somethin’ Roy’s gonna do a private healing session with Layla tonight.”

“Great,” I mumble, “I really should have jumped her.”

I sit criss cross applesauce on the hard motel bed. For a hunt that I knew so much about I had royally blown it. She was right there. The necklace right there. “Please tell me you found something helpful in their home” I pleaded.

“I found the spell book, written by a priest who went dark side,” Sam answers, holding up the small book, “And she isn’t just killing random people. She’s forcing the Reaper to kill people she finds immoral, from some teacher who was openly gay to a woman who advocated for abortion rights.” The room fell quiet for a moment, there were more layers to this than we thought. “May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work” Dean muses.

“No seriously that’s messed up,” I add, shaking my head. “Yeah,” Sam nods, “I think you should hold onto this book Y/N.” He hands it over and I hold it cautiously in my hand, “How nice.” I’ll probably spend the next couple of days reading it over before ultimately sending it home, I did not need a spell book on dark magic with me, didn't even need to own it but rather me than get in the wrong hands.

“We should head back soon” Dean says, “Layla could be there any minute”

The Impala rolls over the graveled road for the second and hopefully final time today, this time with total darkness cloaking us no lights on. We roll to a stop, “That's Layla's car. She's already here,” Sam points out.

Dean nods slowly, “Yeah.” He was upset, “Dean…” Sam began. But Dean ignores him, looking out the window instead, “You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a coupla’ months.” I should’ve known my dramatic speech from before wouldn’t magically resolve him of his guilt, no one has that power. “What's happening to her is horrible,” Sam reasons, “But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.”

Dean goes quiet for a beat before getting out of the car, Sam and I following. We approach the tent, peeking inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of people including Layla and her mom, “Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean whispers. I tried to crane my neck to look around the tent, maybe she was off to the side somewhere… “House,” Sam answers simply.

We creep up to the small house, weary of making too much noise we couldn’t afford to get caught, “You guys go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up,” Dean orders. I look at him confused, “Wait, what are you gonna—“ But Dean’s already backing away from us yelling, “Hey!” to two figures in the distance. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?” he yells out, of course he would be taunting the police. The officers drop what looks to be coffee cups before running after him, Dean taking off at full speed. Only he would do something so stupid. “Uh, anyways” I begin, “If she’s doing it at her house she’s probably by the altar, and considering the size and necessities of the thing and the fact her husband doesn't know it would have to be in an attic or basement.”

“I’ll offer you one better” Sam nods off to the side of the building, “a cellar.” He was right, that would be better. And on top of that definite light emerges from the metal doors. Sam leads the way opening up the heavy doors and propping it open as he makes his way down first. I follow suit immediately being hit with the sight that is the altar, a small table adorned with candle operas filled by tall burning candles, parts of dead animals, bones and blood sprawled out meticulously across the red table cloth. And right in the middle was a black and white surveillance photo of Dean before he was healed, the photo smeared in blood.

“I gave him life and I can take it back too” A familiar voice suddenly says. Sue Ann. I turn around hastily being met with cold eyes, behind me I hear a large crash and I don’t have to look to know Sam had flipped over the table. Her eyes flip to the scene and I use the initial shock to rush her, but she was already close to the stairs so it did not take her long to sweep up them slamming the cellar doors behind her. Something clicks and shifts, she must have locked us in here. Sam joins me at my side, pushing and fighting against the barred doors. “Can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked,” she reasons, “And Dean is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will.”

Oh, so that twisted psycho thinks that’s how it is. Well she messed with the wrong witch. “You're gonna wanna back up” I tell Sam. I press my palms to the cold metal of the doors, I’m pissed now. No one gets to use magic, let alone dark magic, on either of my boys. The doors begin to rattle harshly, almost as if there’s an earthquake, “Goodbye Sam, Y/N” she says. I put more force on the door, my entire being focused on it until it burst open bits of chipped paint and screws flying away, a satisfying break of the wood she used to block us ringing in my ears as broken bits of the wood come crashing back down.

Sue Ann stands but a couple feet away, her eyes wide as she watches me exit the cellar with shock and fear. She backs up further and I follow after her like a predator trapping its prey. “I-I read about things like you” she says weakly, her voice shaking. She keeps backing up, “You’re a—You’re a—“ her back hits the wall of a nearby trailer house. “Witch” I finished for her, yanking off that necklace once and for all.

I throw it off to the side, far away, and back up from her. My job was done and the Reaper would come knocking for its own revenge. “My God, what have you done?,” she heaves, pressing a hand to where her necklace used to be. “He’s not your God” Sam says cooly. Her head snaps to something in the distance, her face falls growing pale she must be seeing the Reaper. Then all at once she takes off running, not making it very far before she falls to her knees, her body convulsing once, twice, before falling to the ground. “I think we have just aided in her murder” I muse.

“Yeah…” Sam nods, “We should probably…” This time I nod, not saying anything as we walk away from the crime heading back in the direction of the Impala. We intercept Dean on the way, meeting at the car. I give him a small thumbs up to say we did it this time and he nods solemnly. “You okay?” Sam asks him.

“Hell of a week” he answers.

I glanced up from my phone for the fifth time in the last minute. I was trying to text Adeline to update her on everything but kept getting distracted by Dean's blank face as he stared off at nothing while sitting in bed. I made eye contact with Sam, giving him a sad smile, we were thinking the same thing. He turns to his brother, watching him for a moment before speaking, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean replies gruffly. Sam looks back at me again and I give him an encouraging nod, “What is it?” he asks again this time more gently.

“We did the right thing here didn't we?” Dean asks, finally breaking. It was difficult to answer him, on one hand we stopped someone from playing God and killing people who they found immoral in which none of the victims were bad people, it wasn’t like they were criminals but to her they were still wicked (god forbid someone has a different opinion than you). But on the other hand it was saving people, except to pay one life for another wasn’t exactly gracious work. Yet, we were doing the same thing, trying to play God and cheat death. I had even admitted to being willing to make great scarface’s to do so, in that aspect I wasn’t so different from Sue Ann in the very beginning.

“Of course we did,” Sam answers, and he really does sound sure. Dean sighs, hanging his head, “It doesn't feel like it.” Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and the parallel from only earlier in the week is not lost on me, “I got it” Sam volunteers getting up from his seat to open the door, “Hey Layla. Come on in.”

Huh.

“Hey” she waves awkwardly. Dean quickly rises from his place on the bed, “How did you know we were here?”

“Sam...called. He said you...wanted to say goodbye?”

Dean glances at Sam and I join in on the glaring, he really needs to start telling me things sooner. But he just smiles sheepishly, “I'm gonna...grab a soda.”

I stand abruptly from my chair, Dean should have his time with Layla. Maybe he won’t feel as guilty, “I’m gonna join you” I declare, “A soda sounds great!” I follow Sam out the door, closing it behind me.

[starkenobi]

hello!!!! congrats on 100, for your celebration thingy: steve rogers + on the run (because i love some nomad!steve vibes)

can’t wait to see what you come up with!! xox

masterlist

Thank you!!! i love mcu nomad!steve, the beard is top10!!! Hope you like this piece 💜

pairing: nomad!steve rogers x vigilante!reader

warnings: implied smut, fluff, bit of angst.

She saw it first online, a tweet talking about rumors of bad blood inside the Avengers.

Then it was all over the news.

The glorious hero of the country for decades.

The one everybody talked about how righteous, fair, and good he was.

Stripped of all his good deeds. All the lives saved forgotten.

In a blink of the eyes, the label changed.

Traitor.

It was a terrible mess out there. Witch hunting.

It made go on patrols harder. If she wanted to keep helping people, she needed to be even more discreet.

She was once Phantom, the nightmare. Now, she'd become a shadow.

At least, the people who supported her vigilante agenda kept helping. Eyes, ears, and whispers. A safe net because it's impossible to trust the government.

It was hard to keep up with all the news and rumors. Some stories seemed real, and others were blatantly manipulated.

She wished a way to help him, too. To know how he was. But before everything happened, they had already lost contact because of the amount of missions and pressure on him for being an avenger.

Now, she could only wonder and hope.

Consuming every bit of media that could give her a glimpse of what was happening while keeping her head down.

Until one night, someone caught her in the middle of a patrol. Coming out of the shadows of the subterranean parking lot.

At first she didn't recognize him.

His once clean and bright uniform was worn down and dirty.

His hair was longer and darker.

He had a fucking beard.

His eyes were a stormy blue.

The only thing that remained the same was his smirk.

One that he seemed to use only with her.

She punched the last criminal, ignoring him falling unconscious to the ground with the rest of his gang. She narrowed her eyes towards the super soldier, still not believing her eyes.

"Good to see you, sweetheart." Steve said casually. "Nice punch there."

She threw a knife on him, right in his head direction.

Steve dodged in reflex, a frowning. "What the hell, sweetheart?"

"What did I tell you on the day of the strawberry explosion?" You growled, aiming another knife.

He raised his hands in surrender, his ears turning red. Steve whispered, "You said that you hoped I liked it nasty, 'cause you didn't want to waste the strawberries." Clearing his throat, he approached with slow steps, standing close enough that her knife touched him. With a hoarse voice, he concluded, "and I cleaned you up nice and slow, best dessert I had tasted."

Her breath hitched, the knife falling to the ground at the same time she threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Steve! I was so worried!"

His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, kissing her head with a sigh. "Sorry, sweetheart."

The reunion was broken by someone clearing their throat. Steve froze for a second before letting her down. When they turned towards the person, she came face to face with Natasha and Sam.

"Sorry to interrupt your little reunion, but we're on borrowed time." Natasha warned, ready to run or even fight.

"Oh."

Noticing her crestfallen reaction, Steve held her once more. "I know it's sudden, but we need your help, sweetheart."

She frowned, worried, but nodded with no apprehension. "Just name it, I'm glad to help."

"Awesome, we need a place to lay low." Sam chimed in, knowing his friend was sidetracked.

"And your teleportation would be well appreciated." Natasha added.

Nodding her head again, she smiled towards them. "All good. Now is a good time?"

"Yes, sweetheart." Steve answered. One of his hands cupped her face, and he tipped his head to kiss her lips. He mumbled. "I really missed you."

"You can make it up to me later, soldier." She winked at him, pulling away from the hug to look at the rest of the group. "Alright, you know the drill: hold hands and let's go!"

She felt the adrenaline course through her body, a bit giddy to have him once again. She'd help with everything, fight ice and fire. Holding his hand so they could hop to her apartment, she got a feeling that everything would be fine.

Mornings sharing a bed, slow kisses, and warm hugs between their fight. She never thought about Steve Rogers asking her to run away with him. But he did, and she was happy to be by his side.

Unfortunately, everything took a terrible turn and went straight to chaos.

[im-a-writer--im-in-distress]

The Witchling (Part I)

Insert with: Ruhn Danaan

Reader: Female (she/her)

Words: 2100+

About: Ruhn and his girlfriend are having a rough night…

Warning(s): (spoilers for this story ahead) violent fighting, character death, near death, vampirism (TVD), werewolf bite (sorry, Ruhn)

A/N: Day Six of Ruhn Week 2024! The prompt is "Night". @ruhnweek New stories all week! So, y’all can blame @danikamariewrites for this post, because that’s what gave me this idea. I was at a loss for this day until I saw that (amazing!) post. So, yeah. @danikamariewrites your fault.😏 (I’m already working on a Part II. *cough cough*)

Ruhn sat on the edge of his desk at the Aux, phone pressed to his ear. "I’m so sorry I can’t be there to see you off."

Your laughter floated through the line, though it did little to ease his guilt. "Stop, it’s fine. The city needs you more than me. I can manage one night without some grand farewell."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You know I’m always here for you, right? Even when you’re out with your coven?”

"You worry too much, prince. We take care of each other.” Your heart tightened at the lie you told, your fingers tracing the edge of the blood bag hidden in your coat. “Plus, I have my own magic to protect me, remember?"

"I know, but…" He hesitated. I want to be with you. "I just hate the thought of you out there without me."

"I know," you whispered, showing your heart. "And I love that about you. But you have to trust me. I can handle myself."

"I do trust you, witchling. It’s just…” It’s dangerous. “I miss you."

Your breath hitched, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. "I miss you too, Ruhn. More than you know."

The silence between the two of you was thick, filled with half-spoken lies. You broke it first, your playful tone meant to mask the ache in your chest. "I’ll make it worth your wait."

Ruhn’s chuckle was warm as he joined in on your joke. "I’m gonna hold you to that.”

But the warmth fell flat even for himself. He knew these hunts were part of your culture, and because they were, he would never be invited to come along, but he didn't like you spending an overnight outside the city. Even if your coven was with you. “Be safe, okay?"

"Always," she replied. "I love you, Ruhn."

"I love you too, Y/N. Call me when you get back, please?"

You didn’t respond, but he heard your breathing change. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Ruhn heard the phone clatter to the ground, and other voices over the line. He called to you, but no one responded. Only the sound of shuffling and yelps of pain.

Your heart raced as you crouched low, shadows coiling around you like dark tendrils enveloping an egg. Your phone lay on the ground, Ruhn’s frantic voice faint in the stillness of the standoff. The creature that had knocked your phone out of your hand breathed heavily just out of sight. It stepped into the moonbeam, his eyes gleaming. It was a… human?

"Who are you?" you demanded. "What do you want?"

A hulking wolf-shifter stepped forward with a sneer. No, he was the one whose breathing you’d heard. "You’re trespassing, witch. This is our territory."

Your eyes narrowed. The Auxiliary had strict patrol zones, and you had been careful to avoid them. Sometimes that meant betraying other borders. "I'm not here for trouble. Just passing through."

"Passing through?" said another voice, dripping. An angel stepped into the dim light, his wings casting eerie shadows on the alley walls. "Looks like you’re doing more than just passing through."

Your hand closed on the empty blood bag in your pocket. “I don’t want any trouble,” you said.

But you were already in trouble. The shadows beyond these men rippled and half a dozen more of their pack stepped forward. It was a mixed pack, one developed by those exiled from their own; it was exactly the kind of unholy union your kind was meant to manage.

These packs always had something to prove. And you were their new target.

One of the shifters lunged at you, claws extended. You dodged, your body moving with heightened speed. It was fast enough to get away, but not as fast as you were capable of. Hunger gnawed at your insides, weakening you. You retaliated with a swift kick that sent the shifter sprawling back. His pack growled. They weren’t done.

"Come on, then," you said, summoning your shadow magic to envelop your attackers. Tendrils of darkness wrapped around their limbs. In your weakened state, though, the shadows couldn’t hold tight, and one by one, they broke free.

You didn’t have time to think about it. Another beast charged, jaws snapping. You sidestepped, slashing with a blade concealed in your sleeve, drawing blood. He howled, and you took a step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The angel watched, a cruel smile on his lips.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked in a genuine voice, then launched himself at you. You blocked and countered, but each movement was draining. The depleted blood in your veins was already a concern; without it, your strength would continue to wane.

A sharp pain exploded in your side as a shifter’s claws raked across your ribs. You staggered, barely avoiding a second blow. Your mind raced. You needed to escape. You couldn't die here, not like this. Not without seeing Ruhn again.

The angel laughed, his blade glinting as it slashed at you. You managed to land a punch that sent him reeling.

But it wasn’t enough.

Their pack of misfits surrounded you, eyes glowing. You felled one, then another, but they kept coming, relentless.

Each dodge you made, each strike you landed— They all stripped your energy, your weakened state making each step more and more unsteady. Your instincts were dulling, too, confirmed by the barrelling strike one of the shifters surprised you with. His big paws pinned you down as your blade skittered away across the pavement. His teeth bared down on you, inches from your face, when his nose caught a whiff. "You smell… different." He sniffed you again, and his pupils swelled with primal recognition. "Prey."

Your blood ran cold. They could scent your true nature. You were in over your head.

You didn’t have a choice. You let your true eyes show, glowing red in the dark. The wolf in him sneered, thrilled. But then, he faltered. Your eyes seared into his, and his body heated from the inside out. Panic threaded into his eyes. Then, he was crippling off of you, sharp cries falling out of him as his blood boiled.

You took the chance to scramble away. A heel landed on something with a crack. It was your phone, the cracked screen gone black. Ruhn… You’d forgotten about him. He’d heard all this?

"Interesting." The angel gleamed, sadistically delighted, as he stepped closer. "You're not just any witch, are you?"

“What gave me away?” You spat, pushing to your feet. The blood magic had faded from your eyes. But so had the energy you desperately needed.

The angel kicked your blade back across the pavement. It landed by your feet, but you didn’t dare take it. “Go on,” he said. “We’ll wait.

You eyed him, your muscles prepared to leap at any sign of movement, and kneeled to retrieve your blade. As soon as your fingers wrapped around it, the human—a Vanir, you realized—launched at you. He held two blades, and he wielded them well. You struggled to dodge, landing only one blow good enough to stun him. Your speed glitched behind him and you cracked his neck, letting the limp body fall.

You were breathing hard now, unable to catch your breath. This was it. You weren’t going to survive this fight. Now, you just needed to make your body as presentable as possible for when Ruhn inevitably found your corpse.

The angel hmph-ed in amusement. He stepped forward. “Let’s finish this.”

You launched at him, focusing your strength into your feet to stay balanced as you parried with each other. He was good, and tonight, you weren’t much better. Tonight, he was a worthy opponent for your last fight. He shoved you with his arm and you tripped, landing hard on your knees. “Stay down, witch.”

Pain and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you. How could you fight when your own body was betraying you? You pushed to your feet. If this was your last, you were gonna make sure it was one hell of a fight.

Teeth sank deep into your shoulder and you cried out at the searing pain, the sound echoing in the narrow alley. Agony washed through your veins, frying every nerve ending in your body, and you collapsed under it. Terror struck you. A wolf bite. No…

‘Y/N!’ You heard your name on Ruhn’s voice crash in your mind, the first sign it was over. Your mental block had fractured and crumbled, and Ruhn knew it.

That only made this worse.

The angel laughed, a deep, haunting laugh. "Finish her," he ordered.

You lashed out, catching the angel off-guard. Your blade sliced the base of his wing, shaving feathers off to the quick. He stumbled back, cursing, but his pack was relentless. Claws and blades tore at you, your only defense to pull shadows around you like a shield. You could feel the venom spreading, your body—and your magic—growing weaker with each passing second.

One last desperate, crazy idea. Gathering the last drops of your strength and magic, you pulled the shadows tightly to ball at your chest. They resisted the tight compression, needing to be free, but you held tight, sweat and blood streaking down your skin. It took all your strength to hold them tight.

The angel towered over you, bright white under the moonlight. “Goodbye, witch,” he said, and daggered his blade down at you.

You released your hold and the shadows splintered from their confines, exploding in all directions. Their razor edges ripped through the last of your attackers. You saw the blurry image of angel wings fall to the ground as darkness overtook you.

The bullpen was in chaos, and it was all Ruhn’s fault. He had burst out of his office towards the boys when he heard the fighting on the other side of the line. He put it on speaker-phone and watched the men get white in the face.

Flynn and Ithan had wrestled with him, trying to calm him down, but the second the phone line went dead, Ruhn lost it. His roar of frustration and panic echoed through the building, silencing everyone. Flynn's grip on his arm tightened, and Ithan stepped in front of him, an attempt to calm him that didn’t do much.

"Dec, find her!" Ruhn snapped. Declan was already hunched over his station, fingers flying over the keyboard as he scanned security footage. "Check every damn camera near the gates!"

"She's with her coven, right?" Dec asked, but didn’t wait for an answer.

Ruhn's mind raced. He had to focus, had to think. Your mental block was up, and that was a good sign. It meant you were still conscious, still fighting. But it also meant he couldn't reach you, couldn't tell you he was coming. His chest tightened, helplessness crushing him.

Your agony sliced into Ruhn’s mind like a white-hot iron, the force of it physically knocking him to his knees. It was a raw, guttural sound like nothing he’d ever heard.

"Ruhn!" Flynn shouted, dropping to his side. "What's happening?"

"Y/N," Ruhn whispered, breath coming fast from the flash of your pain. You’d never spoken in his mind before. He couldn’t help the sick feeling that came with it this time. Flynn's face was a pale blur before him, eyes wide with alarm. Ithan dropped a hand on his shoulder.

"We’ll find her," Ithan said, his voice strong like he meant it. "She’ll be okay."

Ruhn nodded, swallowing hard. He forced himself to stand, unsteady on his limbs. "We need Hypaxia," he said, his voice raw. "She might know where Y/N is."

Flynn nodded, and Ithan pulled out his phone, dialing the witch-queen's number, and handed it to him. It felt like an eternity before she answered. "Where’s Aurora?" he barked. No time for pleasantries.

"Ruhn, what happened?"

"She's not with her coven, is she?"

"No," Hypaxia admitted, her voice soft. "She's alone."

Ruhn's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, but she would've gone to her caches.” Hypaxia said. “I know where one is."

"Give me the address," he growled. He snapped his fingers at Flynn and he bolted over.

Hypaxia rattled off the address, and Ruhn relayed it to Declan, who immediately triangulated it on his screens. "I'll meet you there," Hypaxia added. "I have the key."

"Fine," Ruhn bit out, then gave Ithan his phone back. He turned to Flynn. "You're coming with me. Ithan, keep your phone hot. I'll send you another address if she's not there."

Flynn nodded, already pulling on his coat. Declan called out from his station, "I don't see anyone on the cameras."

"She's alone," Ruhn barked, his voice echoing through the bullpen. He didn't wait for a response, didn't look back as he darted out the door.

.

Part II Part III coming soon!

[dailycharacteroption]

Safety Inspector (Starfinder Archetype)

(art by frankhong on DeviantArt)

There are a lot of archetypes and themes in Starfinder that one might wonder aloud why they are career paths available to adventurers, either being traditionally non-heroic in nature, or seeming too situational save for specific sorts of campaign.

Usually the rebuttal falls along the lines people containing multitudes and the conveniences of the far future allow for multiple intertwining career paths, for good or ill.

However, in today’s case, the question of “Why would a heroic space adventurer have a career as, even formerly, a safety inspector?” To which the answer is “If you think modern corporations are bad, wait till they own planets and their union busters are weapon-laden cyborgs.”

Indeed, the safety inspector archetype can’t exist without the existence of business and industry, and that includes everything from mundane corporate cost-cutting that puts people at risk to the ways that companies react to their employees protesting such malfeasance.

Even those that left such careers can make use of their keen eye for detail to protect their allies from hazards created by negligence or sabotage, meaning they don’t necessarily have to show up in campaigns where the big bad guy is a faceless corporation’s greed.

So let’s get into it and see what the archetype has to offer.

True to their career path, these inspectors can often tell at a glance when something isn’t right, noticing deliberate or accidental traps nearby.

That perception and instinct to protect others comes in handy when such dangers threaten those nearby, compelling them to yank such folk out of the way of such hazards.

They also tend to be extra careful when disabling and disarming such hazards, and are quick to negate a potential mistake.

A simple archetype, but one that can be useful and flavorful for a former or current worker or bureaucratic character. Mechanic is a natural choice here given their familiarity with the machines that they have to mind the safety of, though technomancer, operative, and biohacker are also common. Any class can make use of it though, from the soldiers that are military engineers making sure what they build will not kill their allies, to precogs that predict potential disaster before it happens.

While health inspectors are often stereotyped as demanding bribes to not close down restaurants and other businesses, safety inspectors are rarely villains unless they are totally corrupt, often working with the companies to overlook clear and present danger in the name of profits. I doubt most of those would actually take this archetype, though. If you’re able to make it work, good on you, but for me this one is pretty clearly in the category of “only found with those that value life.”

While the company tries to quell such rumors as superstitious distractions, Colony-VX94 has a local legend of the “Witch of the Woods”, a figure that appears before disaster strikes at the facilities. However, Inspector Jervahn is not sure that she is just a story, but is she the cause of such accidents, or trying to warn them?

Delan works at a medical facility studying the adaptations of various species. One such subject are the ever-adapting ksarik plants. However, the fact that the plants need to ingest biological material to copy adaptations has led to some questionable decisions on part of team heads, which Delan cannot abide by.

“KLPCo. has no accidents”, or so the company tagline claims, and it’s clear they are intend to keep up that public perception by any means. And this is how the party gets roped into smuggling a lashunta safety inspector offworld so she can expose what she knows to the galaxy, and why they are being hunted by the company’s PMC forces.

[onestevetogo]

Lord of the Abridged: Tower Power

Frodo - I miss Gandalf.

Sam - I am a packmule.

Gollum - I have somehow hunted the ring better than nine wraith assassins.

Frodo - I hate this ring.

Gollum - Gimme the ring!

Frodo - I’ll give you the Sting.

Gollum - Oh no.

Frodo - Gollum, lead us to Mordor.

Gollum - That’s a terrible idea.

Sam - That’s a terrible idea.

Frodo - This is a great idea.

Orcs - We’re taking the hobbits to Isengard!

Pippin - I want some nice crispy bacon.

Merry - I am sick.

Orcs - Here’s a homemade family recipe.

Merry - yucky.

Oruk - You’re yucky :(

Oruk - wait…

Oruk - ManFlesh!

Aragorn - They noticed my manflesh.

Gimli - This distance is physically twice for me as it is for everyone else. #DurinsFolkStruggles

Legolas - They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard!

Saruman - Nothing could possibly go wrong with the arrangement I have with my new best friend Sauron.

Sauron - I don’t know who that weird goth dude is but keep him a good ten feet from me.

Orcs - We demand rest!

Oruk - Damn unions.

Orcs - We demand good food!

Oruk - Let them eat cake.

Dave - I want to take a bite of a hobbit! A hobbite!

Oruk - Scum! *killing noises*

Dave - *getting killed noises*

Orcs - We demand Dave!

Oruk - You drive a hard bargain.

Merry - Crawly crawly.

Pippin - Sneaky sneaky.

Dave’s cousin also named Dave - I demand a hobbite!

Rohirrim - We’re a traveling play. Wanna see our act?

Orcs - *Dies*

Oruk - *Dies*

Hobbits - Cliffhanger!

Aragorn - We’ve been running all night.

Legolas - Man, I’d love to see a play.

Rohirrim - We’re a traveling play. Wanna see our act? All it needs is a dead dwarf.

Legolas - How dare you threaten the life of my best buddy in the whole wide world!

Aragorn - …

Rohirrim -…

The horses - …

Gimli -…

Aragorn - Have you seen some orcs? They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.

Eomer - They’re dead. Dead as hell. If your kids were there, they’re dead too. We can’t tell the difference.

Aragorn - oh shit.

Legolas - oh shit.

Gimli - oh shit.

Witch king - *stubbed toe screeching*

Frodo - Oh no! It’s Mister Stabby!

Gollum - It’s cool. They suck at their jobs.

Witch king - *Screeches elsewhere*

Gollum - Don’t follow the lights.

Frodo - You’re not my mom.

Ghosts - Hey little halfling. Want some candy?

Frodo - I love candy!

Ghosts - Hahaha! It wasn’t candy at all!

Frodo - *Ghostly drowning noises*

Gollum - What did I just say?

Merry - Is Dave still chasing us?

Pippin - DAVE, ARE YOU STILL CHASING US?!?!

Merry - wtf, Pippin?

Dave - I’m still chasing you!

Treebeard - Gimme the hobbits.

Dave - *Roadkill noises*

Treebeard - I’m a tree with a beard! Guess my name!

Merry -…

Pippin - Dave?

Aragorn - Where’s the hobbits?

Gimli - I found a dead orc!

Aragorn - That’s not a hobbits!

Legolas - Ew don’t touch it.

Gandalf - I’m gonna scare the shit out of these three.

Gandalf - *Lightshow*

Aragorn - Holy shit!

Legolas - Holy shit!

Gimli - Holy shit!

Gandalf - Lmao. Let’s go to Rohan.

Theoden - mnmmnbnbmmmm.

Grima - He says he doesn’t like you.

Gandalf - Theoden? More like Theodumb.

Theodumb - bffbmmnm.

Grima - He says your shoes are raggedy and your staff looks like a pleasurable instrument.

Gandalf - wizardwhocantgetlaidsayswhat

Sarumon - What?

Gandalf - Lmao.

Saruman - PAIN!

Gandalf - PAIN!

Saruman - Egad!

Theoden - *Grasps his killing stick* I’m Theodone.

Grima - I’m Theodead.

Sarumon - If he wants pain, I’ll show him some pain.

Grima - How?

Sarumon - I’ve grown several thousand muscular, voracious hunks who will do anything I tell them.

Grima - Good for fighting?

Sarumon - …

Grima - For fighting, right?

Theoden - Let’s go to Helm’s Deep.

Aragorn - Yes, nothing could go wrong.

Gandalf - Deuces.

Gimli - I’ve had like five lines and zero agency in this movie so far.

Legolas - It’s hard being a princess. ✨✨

Aragorn - Hey you’re pretty good with that sword.

Eowyn - I will literally have your child right here in this hallway.

Legolas - :O

Gimli - :O

Sméagol - :O

Sarumon - :O

Morgoth - :O

Eru Illuvitar - :O

Tom Bombadil - :O

That one orc head on a spear - :O

Anyone with half a brain cell - :O

Aragorn - She seems nice.

Gollum - *Having a meltdown*

Gollum.exe has stopped working.

Gollum - Rebooting.

Sméagol - Sméagol.exe.

Sméagol - …

Sméagol - It’s wabbit season.

Orcs - We’re a traveling band! Wanna hear our latest single “Omnom”?

Rohan Soldiers - “Omnom”?

Wargs - Omnomnomnom!

Soldiers - *Fighting*

Eowyn - ManFlesh!

Aragorn - *To orc Uber* I will pay you to throw me off this cliff.

Orc taxi - A dollar’s a dollar!

Aragorn - *Flying king noises*

Sméagol - It’s fish season.

Gondorites - It’s little gremlin season.

Frodo - Hol up. He’s a little weird but he’s aight.

Faramir - I was going to kill you but didn’t. There’s no other information I can offer here that could improve future events.

Sméagol - *Dramatically* I’ve been betrayed!

Faramir - Tell me what I want to know.

Sméagol - Gollum.exe

Merry - Take the hobbits to Isengard!

Treebeard - No.

Merry - Aw man.

Treebeard - What’s this? Deforestation?! HRAGBLAGMIMGONNAKILLTHATLITTLESHIT!

Merry - Yay!

Treebeard - We all might die but that’s okay!

Merry - Y…yay?

Aragorn - *Dramatic Entrance*

Eowyn. - Take me right here.

Aragorn - Orcs.

Theoden - Orcs?!

Gimli - These are Uruk Hai!

Uruk - Uruk hi!

Theoden - So it begins.

It - *beginning*

Gimli - Two already!

Legolas - I’m on seventeen!

Gimli - That’s not fair fighting!

Legolas - :)

Gimli - Fighting, right?

5 days later:

Theoden - This is too much fighting!

Aragorn - Let’s fight some more.

Theoden - Sounds good bestie!

Gandalf - PAIN!

Eomer - PAAAAAAAAAAAIN!

Gandalf - Oh shit.

Orcs - Oh shit.

Treebeard - Orc mush! Mush orc!

Treesbeard - Reverse veganism!

Sarumon - Sauron pick me up I’m scared

Legolas - We’re alive!

Soldiers - We’re alive!

Eowyn - ManFlesh!

Aragorn - *hiding king noises*

Gandalf - That was close.

Frodo - Something just happened.

Faramir - Run little child thing. Be free.

Hobbits - *Scampering off*

Faramir - I feel like there’s something I forgot to do.

Later :

Gollum - I’m gonna murder these hobbits.

Credits

[melocherie]

Ohh I want to support what is your Quotev account if you’re comfortable sharing?

Also after reading through your posts, omg?? She just keeps getting worse 😭 It’s embarrassing to admit that I looked up to her as a teenager, she always seemed so respectful…

I also dk how people still want iaptbap to continue once they found out about the grooming and etc. She literally said some(or one I can’t really remember) of her characters are based off of herself (like Beau for example) and I really can’t unsee that… So, separating the art from the artist is out of the question here ngl.

hello  hello  anon!  yes,  you  can  find  me  as  confesse  on  quotev.  however,  because  i  don't  think  the  writing  really  holds  up,  i  wouldn't  suggest  reading  heroine’s  guide  to  witch  hunting.  please  wait  for  the  rewrite!  i’m biased but i think  it's  going  nicely.  here’s  a  sneak  peak  of  mother,  my  “bookkeeper”  so  to  speak  (the  dialogue  definitely  has  to  be  altered,  though): 

and  saaame  on  cringing  for  liking  noor.  at  first,  i  enjoyed  Iaptbap,  and  even  fantasized  about  my  story  and  hers  having  a  crossover  episode  (i  forgive  myself  because  i  was  sixteen  but  girl,  no).  so  glad  i  snapped  out  of  it  on  my  own. 

i  can  understand  why  someone  would  want  to  see  a  project  they’ve  devoted  time  to  be  completed,  but  it  doesn't  make  sense  to  separate  the  art  from  the  creator  when  you're  still  endorsing  and  encouraging  a  groomer's  subpar  work.  there  is  definitely  room  for  improvement,  so  i  sincerely  hope  that  more  princess  fanfiction  will  appear.  i  will  be  there  to  kiss  every  single  one  of  them  mwa  mwa 

[mywillt0live]

im not a good writer but I have a lot of brainrots about sagau and imposter sagau

so here’s a little uh.. dramatic brain rot idea of mine

(edit: this is a very old thing I wrote a few years ago but i thought I’d leave it up TT)

N O W L O A D I N G . . .

I’ve always found it unrealistic how quick-to-assume the acolytes are

ex. the first person they see that looks like you is the definitely the “creator” (stupid to assume)

or

anybody who looks like them is definitely an imposter (like what?? it should be blessing-)

so instead, when the imposter first arrived, the acolytes were in doubt but still hopeful

using celestia’s power, the imposter proved themselves in other ways than gold blood and gained a following

although a very good imitation, something was just the slightest bit off. those small mistakes started to build up, and the acolytes couldn’t help but feel something was wrong.. yet they’re loyalty remained

you, the creator, pull up to the crib and nobody really believes you. kinda just thinking man they look a lot like the creator.. that’s crazy 😧

you go around and see the imposter all acting like you, spreading their influence to gain total power

so instead of going around like a door to door salesman and convince the acolytes that you’re the real creator, you decide to get to the root of problem: the imposter

however taking the throne by force would be stupid, I mean it’s not impossible to kill the imposter, but combined with the acolytes and millions of followers- yeah no thanks.

you could easily do it by showing your blood, but you wanna see who is truly loyal to you

and let’s be honest

where’s the fun in that?

you’re definitely not a sadist

so you infiltrate the palace spy style and at the big throne doors you blast them open all cool n stuff

the acolytes immediately detain you and you kneel before the imposter

“My liege, excuse my impudence, but you seem rather uncomfortable..”

the imposter flinches as you smirk at them

“D-Dispose of them at once! I wish to see their face no longer..”

“Hah.. you really like to humor me. Don’t you? Celestia.”

you’re met with astonished glares thinking how arrogant you are, well not until..

in a display of divine power, you break free of the acolytes grasp with ease

you grin wildly as everyone looks at you in a stupor with one collective thought:

“What if..”

you smirk.

this’ll be fun.

some of the archons yell for you to wait but you take a dramatic bow and disappear in a blink.

the whole room is enveloped in soft murmurs and speculative chaos as the imposter bites their lip in anger- no, rage.

the situation is thrown into turmoil and for weeks the acolytes watch as the imposter starts to become more paranoid, aggressive, and more off.

their paranoia leads to a new order, and the witch-hunt begins. anyone caught worshiping you or helping you are executed on the spot.

dried blood lines the cobblestone streets of mondstat. in liyue, rather than good food and hearty laughter wafting through the air, all that remains is the vague stench of dead bodies. inazuma’s streets are quiet and cold, as soldiers loom over the area.

the situation with the acolytes aren’t much better. some slipped away early to find you, others of utmost loyalty to the imposter are furious because of your little “act”

but even they can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong

most acolytes become doubtful and eventually turn neutral, unknowing what side is the true creator.

the battle has begun as you and the imposter fight for their trust, love, and power.

lets see who gets their head chopped off first.

(i guess this could be a prologue to imposter sagau?)

[aylacavebear]

The Curse That Changed Your Life - Part 2 Chapter 2

With the witch taken care of, your hopes of being human gone, and dealing with sensations and emotions you hadn't before, life didn't seem like it was going to get much better. How would he look at you in the morning after what you'd said to him? What would you do after this? What would the next month hold, and how much like a cat were you? There were far too many questions you didn't have answers to and didn't want to ask. Would you find any answers in the month to come? Only time would tell.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2498

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being Dean. Not really much for this one.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

The next few days passed without any sort of incident. Dean would make comments here and there, mostly flirting with you, so you did the same in return. The others mostly stayed quiet when it came to the two of you, waiting to see who was going to give in first, even if none of them wanted to be anywhere near the bunker when it did finally happen. The sexual tension that was building could be cut like a hot knife through frozen butter.

You were doing your best not to let it show just how flustered you were getting, as Dean looked like he wasn’t flustered in the least. That was annoying you more than anything. The two of you still talked about stuff, but he seemed to enjoy making innuendos just to watch you squirm, which you did.

They were still trying to find something to break the curse, but when another case came up, it had to get put on hold. This was day five since he’d accepted the challenge you hadn’t meant to make.

“At least it looks easy enough. Simple salt and burn,” Sam said, his attention firmly focused on the laptop in front of him.

“When has anything for us been simple or easy?” Dean asked sarcastically, sipping his coffee.

You weren’t sure how you felt at the moment. You knew he was a hunter and that he’d hunt things. You just weren’t prepared for the emotions that sparked inside you at the thought of him being in possible danger and getting hurt. So, you sat quietly, sipping your coffee, just listening.

“I could go with you. It might go faster that way,” Eileen offered. She was getting the feeling of cabin fever and needed to get out for a bit.

“I am not getting stuck in a motel room with the two of you,” Dean groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Can’t be any worse than being stuck here with you and Y/N and the tension that both of you are only making worse,” Charlie added with a fair amount of sass.

“Then I’ll come along. Eileen and Sam can share a room, and I’ll share a room with Dean,” Cas pipped in, making you attempt to keep from laughing at the way it sounded.

“Cas, that’s just wrong, on so many levels,” Dean told him, not amused in the least.

Cas just looked at him, confused, “What’s wrong with two men sharing a room with separate beds? You and Sam do it all the time.”

Dean rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out how to explain it to the angel, “Never mind, Cas. Fine, you can go.”

“Nice. I get to stay here, corrupt Y/N,” Charlie stated happily.

It was interesting to you how none of them seemed worried, in the least, about getting hurt while chasing some ghost. You looked over at Charlie, somewhat puzzled as to how she could corrupt you, but before you could ask, Dean did.

“How would you corrupt her?” Dean asked, now curious more than anything, glad that the focus was no longer on what Cas had said.

Charlie smiled in that mischievous way that she did, “Turn her into a nerd. Or I could just show her your porn collection that you meticulously keep neatly organized.”

Dean almost looked mortified, but you took the opportunity, “Pretty sure he’s soft compared to the things I enjoy when it comes to porn.”

“See, now you need to elaborate,” Dean stated, leaning his arms on the table.

“No, Dean, she doesn’t. We need to focus on the case,” Sam interjected quickly.

You mouthed the words “ha ha” before leaning back in your chair and sipping your coffee again. He gave that look that made your knees weak, and you were thankful you were sitting down. You knew he’d eventually get around to making a move; it was evident not only in the way he looked at you but also in the amount of pheromones he was giving off.

“You totally have to tell me about it when they leave,” Charlie told you quickly before dropping the topic, more due to the look Sam gave her.

The case was only a few towns over, so it wasn’t like they were going far. There was just this weird feeling nagging at your insides and fear that kept lurking in your mind. You just couldn’t quite pinpoint why you were feeling that way. 

When they were packing up, bags on the map table, it finally hit you. You were worried he wouldn’t make it back, that something terrible would happen to him. He was standing over his bag, double-checking the weapons he packed, and you watched from the library.

Your body moved toward him, seemingly on its own, the worry in your eyes that you couldn’t hide. He saw you out of the corner of his eye but didn’t turn to you. And when you were standing almost next to him, he finally spoke before you could.

“Come to see me off, propper like?” he asked fairly seductively, but when he looked over at you, his smirk faded, seeing how worried you were.

“I know you do this kind of stuff all the time and that you’ll probably be fine, but…” you attempted to explain, quietly to keep your voice as even as possible. “...Look, I know… I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t…” 

You couldn’t seem to get the words out right at the moment, so you took a deep, determined breath and then leaned up on your tiptoes, giving him a soft, gentle kiss with your hands resting on his chest. It was a plea for him to return to you, and you had to admit that you liked him far more than you’d wanted to admit to yourself.

Dean was a little startled at first but returned the kiss, cupping your cheek for a few moments before he pulled away. “I promise, I’ll come back,” he whispered, then went back to his bag, making sure he had what he needed.

The others in the room had been silent but now were smiling. Dean had enjoyed the last almost week of teasing you. Your brattiness had him thinking all sorts of wonderful things, but then there was your soft side. It drew him in in a way that scared the hell out of him, but craved it at the same time. 

As you listened to the Impala drive away, your heart sank while you stood in the war room, staring at the garage door. Charlie set her hand on your shoulder, “They always come back. Sometimes beat to shit, but they always come back,” she tried to reassure you.

You looked over at her, “How do you not worry about them?” 

She chuckled, motioning for you to follow her back into the library, where she returned to her seat and you to yours. “Those two have been fighting monsters their entire lives. Yeah, sometimes it is more dangerous than others, but they always come out on top. You’ll see,” she explained, back to her happy-go-lucky self again.

You glanced at the garage door, contemplating what she’d said. She had a point. Dean shared some stuff with you, and they had always made it through whatever they were up against. Hell, both of them had died, more than once. You knew it would only ease your worry some, now that you’d admitted to at least yourself how you really felt toward Dean.

“So, what do you normally do when they aren’t here?” you asked, looking back over at her. 

“Depends. Sometimes, I play online RPGs. Other times, I read some of the lore they’ve got here. That’s when I’m not hacking into some corporate system, having a little fun,” she explained, doing something on her laptop.

“Huh…” you mumbled, attempting to think of things a little differently than how they’d ended up in your head. 

I could always think of it like he’s at work, and I’m here, waiting till his shift is over, like a truck driver. What would I do if it was like that?

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, your mind wandering with your thoughts. Charlie watched you, your ears twitching, your tail swaying with your thoughts, but she stayed quiet for now. She was still goofing off on her laptop, but that girl could multitask like nobody's business.

During your stay with all of them, you helped out with simple clean-up in the kitchen and library. You even made sure to keep the bathroom clean after you used it. Right now, you knew there was no point in organizing the library tables, as they would return to their research when they returned. The kitchen and most of the bunker were already clean. 

It honestly surprised you at how clean the brothers were compared to what you’d heard about how men typically lived when they were ‘alone’, per say. You’d never been in Dean’s room, though, and that had made you fairly curious how he kept his personal space. 

“I need to do some laundry,” you finally broke the silence as you stood.

“Have fun,” Charlie replied absentmindedly as her focus went entirely to her laptop. She figured since the others would be gone for a few days, there was plenty of time to goof off with you later.

You headed down the hallway to your room but stopped outside Dean’s. It being across from yours always made you wonder what the inside looked like. Biting your lip, you reached out for the doorknob but stopped yourself.

Would he get mad if I just went in there without his knowledge?

The thing was, when your curiosity got piqued too intensely, you had to satisfy it, or it would drive you up the wall. You stood there, though, fighting with yourself as your hand slowly found the knob, your fingers gently tightening around it. 

I shouldn’t…

But you couldn’t stop the curiosity that just kept growing. You slowly turned the knob as your ears drooped a little with your apprehension, tail flicking with anticipation. Chewing on your bottom lip nervously, you slid the door open, then flicked on the light. 

To your surprise, it was cleaner than you had pictured. He’d hung weapons around the room, which you figured might hold some sort of memory he enjoyed, or perhaps they might be his favorites. You weren’t quite sure. His bed was even made. There were beer bottles dotted around, but it could have been worse.

It was his laundry pile that made you sigh, as it looked like there were at least three loads there. You didn’t even realize the man owned that many articles of clothing since you typically saw him in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel over it. He did occasionally wear sweatpants, but you’d only seen him in a red plaid pair, which were now sitting on top of his laundry pile.

I wonder if he’d get mad if I did his laundry.

You slipped out of his room, already feeling the guilt of invading his space like you had, closing the door behind you. Once in your own room, you pulled out your phone and thought about texting Sam, asking him the very question that teased your thoughts. You pulled up Sam’s contact information, went to the message section, and began typing out the question. Just when you were about to change your mind, you hit the send button.

While waiting for a response, you gathered your laundry and headed to the laundry room. At least you only had one load and could carry it without issue. Your phone vibrated in your pocket halfway there, making you grumble slightly.

It wasn’t a far walk, thankfully, and you set your clothes on the top of the dryer before pulling your phone out.

Text from Sam: Why do you want to do Dean’s laundry?

Text to Sam: I wanted to do something nice for him. Will he get mad or not?

You hit send and began getting your stuff into the washer when your phone went off again.

Text from Sam: I get doing something nice, but his laundry? 

You rolled your eyes, slightly annoyed he wouldn’t just answer you already.

Text to Sam: Can you just answer my question, please?

This time, you held onto your phone, tapping your foot as you waited, seeing the little dots appear at the bottom of the screen, showing he was typing.

Text from Sam: I don’t think he’ll get mad. It’s weird, though. You two aren’t even dating.

Again, you rolled your eyes.

Text to Sam: Thank you for answering my question. If he’d ever get around to asking

You reread it, then deleted the last part and started over.

Text to Sam: Thank you for answering me. What would you suggest that wouldn’t be weird?

That one you sent. The last thing you needed was for something he could show Dean that might only make things worse. You didn’t want it to come across weird through text, either. As you were getting your clothes into the washer, your phone vibrated.

Text from Sam: Maybe bake something? He likes sweets and pie. Oh, and anything that includes bacon.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that one, anything that includes bacon. You sent a quick thank you text, shoved your phone in your pocket, and took care of your laundry. Knowing the load would take nearly forty-five minutes to wash, you returned to the library, where Charlie was still sitting, on her laptop.

Plopping down in a chair, you leaned your arms on the table, thinking about what you could possibly do that wouldn’t come across as weird. Baking him something was a nice idea, and you were sure there were plenty of supplies in the kitchen; you’d just never made a pie before. 

“Whatcha thinkin' about?” Charlie asked you without looking up from her laptop.

“I was gonna do Dean’s laundry as something nice, but Sam said that was weird. He suggested I bake something,” you replied, half-mumbled

She looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, “Can you bake?”

“Yeah. Baking is mostly easy. I’ve just never made a pie before,” you answered, going through different recipes in your head.

“The man loves chocolate,” she chuckled.

Glancing over at her, a recipe came to mind, “I think I know what I’ll make. Do you know when they’ll be back?”

“Should be about three days, give or take a day,” she answered, “Why?”

“Cause the thing I want to bake is better the first day,” you replied with a small smile, letting his possible reaction play out in your mind.

“They usually text the morning they’re heading back,” Charlied replied, hyper-focused on whatever she was doing on her laptop.

That works. I can make it that morning and it’ll be ready for when they get here.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

Series Master List Part 1 Master List Part 2 Master List Past 3 Master List Main Master List

A/N: As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know in a comment. And if I missed your request to be tagged, please let me know. I know not everyone is interested in everything an author writes, so don't mind doing different tag lists for each piece of writing. I just get a lot of requests sometimes.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @zaratahir @jc-winchester @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @kindollss @flamencodiva @reignsboy19

@stillhere197

[serial-killers-hope]

Blink and you’ll miss it.

TW / CW :

- SPOILERS FOR GLUTTONY GODS

- SPOILERS FOR KILLER CHAT ( Ronin’s route )

- Death

- Gore

- Murder ( mentioned )

Stay safe, enjoy.

God’s Requiem.

Eyes strewn from the heavens, now watching the two who bickered to no end.

“Come on Ther, don’t you crave the feeling? Revenge is key after all…” His hands slithered onto their shoulders, his eyes stuck on how their chest rose and fell with every breath lost to time. “You agree with me… don’t you?”

“Ronin…”

Ther sighed quietly, arms crossed against their chest with fiery curls flowing down their back. They glared over at Ronin, blue and piercing. Just the way he liked it.

“C’mon. We can do this… please, one chance. Back to AngelWood. Back to hell. Jus’ you an’ me.”

As much as Ther wanted this, they couldn’t go back. They didn’t want to relive the past as much as Ronin did. But gods did revenge leave such a sweet taste on their tongue.

They turned to look at the man, tall and brooding. Ther swore they could see a tail wag behind him. Pointed and red. It made them cringe a bit at the blood stained crowbar that rested on his hip, hanging loosely from its spot. An odd comfort, sure, but worth the risk.

“… Fine. We’ll go.”

Ronin lit up, pumping his fist into the air with a hiss of yes’s and strewn about ideas cobbled together for some massacre that he swore will get them into hell ( though they knew for a fact they were already doomed to go ). Ther laughed slightly, pushing down the awkwardness into the back of their throat with a heavy aura that radiated discomfort.

Ronin could practically feel it; well, he knew it. He always pushed, never bothered to stop unless it took their own consciousness and morality into question. But he sighed, wrapped his arms around their waist now to pull them into a tight embrace.

Comfort. The one thing Ther needed and got. God… was this hard to endure.

���Let just go. Please.”

Ronin only nodded, opening the car door with a little bow and an eerie grin. His eyes following their every move as they slipped into the passenger seat. It made him giddy almost. Practically bouncing as he walked around and slid into the drivers seat with a smile.

“To AngelWood we go.”

The whir of the cars engine filled the atmosphere with muffled radio static and small pitted patters of rain hitting the windshield with wipers following behind the white noise that Ther once had been comforted by. Though Ronin drove through the forested streets after their little witch-hunt.

“… You okay?”

Ronin’s voice was sympathetic, if only a bit. Obviously holding no malice of course.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Ther’s voice was soft and eloquent as usual, but held a tremor that Ronin dared not comment on.

The air grew silent once more, nothing but static and rain for miles. It was strange how the scent of moist pine and rain with a bit of copper filled the environment. Smooth and cold. Not too cold, just enough to make their bodies stand on edge.

“… How much more longer till…?”

“We’re there?” Ronin looked over to a little clock in the car, shrugging a bit. “An hour or two. Just a bit longer… you can wait a bit more, can’t you?”

“Uh… yes. I think so.”

Ronin sighed, facing the road once more and skidding the car, a running deer crossing the path.

“FUCK!”

He cursed aloud and heard Ther’s screams of warning, the car spinning around and ramming into a tree on the side. The airbags exploding out of their designated spaces and practically breaking all the glass around them. Fortunately, the deer remained unscathed.

Ronin exhaled slightly, huffing as the airbag filled his view.

“Shit… Ther, you okay?”

He pushed the bag down a bit, the thick smell of copper invading his senses. Though Ronin stayed calm, trying not to panic at the moment.

“Ro…”

Their voice was raspy, thick with pain and sadness. One he dreaded for ages.

“Ther…?”

He looked over, eyes widening as he scrambled to remove his seatbelt. Cursing loudly and ignoring the glass that pierced his clothes and skin. Ronin didn’t want this to be true, fuck. If it was, he would forever feel guilty. More than he usually did.

“Stay with me Ther!”

He finally got out, rushing over to the passenger side and gagging at the horror that befell him.

A branch had pierced Ther’s chest, straight through their left lung and stained crimson. The flesh torn apart and dug into the wound. It made him want to pray for once in his miserable life that this was a dream. All he could do was take their hands, pleading for them to stay alive as he tried his best to keep his composure. Tears streaming down his face as he screamed out their name.

“Ther, FUCK! Just stay-“

Ther’s voice fell silent as they shushed him, a small smile on their face as they leaned their head back. Their touch growing limp.

“Thank you Ronin. For indulging me… just this once.”

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 1: The Courtyard

Pairing: Merman Rex x Harpy Reader

Summary: A merman and a harpy plan an escape

Authors Notes: Mermaid AU. This is my first Mermay fic and longest fic ever. So sorry if it’s a bit rough. Partly inspired by a scene in the The Last Unicorn.

Warnings: So with them being a Harpy and a Merman, I go with old school myths so drowning and eating people is vaguely discussed. There is also some blood and it gets consumed. Minor Violence. Death, but not anyone we care about. The villain is manipulative and says some controlling creepy stuff.

Word Count: 2791

Prompt: The kingdom by the sea is cruel. A captured mermaid being carried through the castle gates briefly caught the eye of a harpy in a cage above, a glance full of rage and compassion.

Prompt 3243 by deepwaterwritingpromts

The rage in the brown eyes of the merman below you is just as much a comfort as the compassion is. Even when the brief moment ends, the complicated way they make you feel doesn’t vanish. You cast the blonde one last glance as the stormtroopers carry his coffin-like tank into the witch’s workshop.

A part of you worries as the doors shut, leaving you with no access to the only other inhuman in the castle. Perhaps they have brought him for fresh ingredients for the witch’s potions, but you have a feeling he would already be missing pieces of his blue and white fishtail if that were the case. Your talons dig into your perch branch waiting to hear sounds from the workshop as your mind plays through what might happen next. The silence only makes you more queasy.

It is late into the night when a tank, big enough for him to swim around a few feet, is carried out with magic. He looks exhausted, but that’s what having the magic drained out of you so you can’t fight or escape does to a mythical creature. At least he isn’t dead; it has been a long time since you had decent company other than the birds.

“They won’t be able to find you.” The witch simply states. “Especially now that you can’t summon a storm.” Tired brown eyes glare, but he doesn’t come to the surface to speak to her. She raises her hand and you can all feel the spark of magic in the air. You let out an ear piercing screech and the stormtroopers all around cover their ears. Your tormentor’s attention turns to you with a sharp glare, but the spell dies in her hand.

“Do you have something to add, harpy?” She walks till she is right under your cage. “You have been stuck here for years unable to escape. And I plan to keep it that way till the day I die. Perhaps you can explain it to the Mer.”

All rational thought leaves you for a moment. You had been asleep when her and her private soldiers, back before her island had been part of the empire, had stumbled upon you. If you had been awake and not put into an even deeper slumber by the old power hungry witch, this situation would be far different.

Your massive wings stretch as far as they can go within the cage as the wind begins to pick up. You screech as you summon forth all the magic you can at the moment, trying to shatter the iron bars. They bend before your might and for a moment a part of you hopes they will shatter this time. You can see the Mer look up at you in awe and surprise as the stormtroopers shake in fear.

But this is as far as you always come. The sleep spell once again starts to sap your energy no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“Why can’t you get rid of that damn harpy!?” One stormtrooper hisses. “It will be the death of us all.”

The stormtrooper is tossed against a wall in retaliation with a quick flick of the witch’s wrist. The others quickly fall back in line as the witch catches her breath still staring at you. You have now wrapped your wings around yourself on your perch, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“I… caught the last wild harpy. All on my own. No massive hunting party. No army. Just me. And I have held her. I may be mortal…” She moves her eyes to the Mer for a moment before turning back to you. “But my efforts and power shall never been forgotten by creatures held under it. When I am long gone, my memory will live on.”

As sleep finally takes you, you wish she was wrong. You want to say you’ll forget her after finally tearing her to pieces, but you know you will carry these years of captivity like a badge of shame. You wonder what the Mer thinks of you now.

The next few weeks are a struggle. The witch is being careful to drain as much magic as possible from the both of you while still alive. This has made getting to know the Mer, who you found out is named Rex, a bit difficult with one or both of you fighting falling asleep before the night shift guards come out. During the night patrols, there are windows of time where you can speak to each other without being overheard.

However, you both manage to remain awake tonight. News reached the castle that Lord Vader himself is coming. And he has been asking around about Rex. He had bared his sharp teeth at the witch with a growl making bubbles in the water and his claws slowly scratching down the magically fortified glass when your captor informed you both.

“I won’t ask for details.” You speak softly, laying on your stomach at the bottom of your cage. Your chin rests on your forearms as you look down at your Mer friend. He mirrors your position with his arms on the edge of his tank, looking up at you. “But we need an escape plan now. Your brothers won’t track you here in time.”

“I don’t have any details to give you anyway.” Rex bitterly grumbles. “Other than the fact he took over my battalion after the General died, I don’t know why he’s so interested in getting here to me.” This whole situation bothers both of you like there is something more going on. But whatever it is, it is safer to leave than to seek answers.

“I’m still not powerful enough to take human form and whatever storm magic I can perform right now isn’t going to be strong enough to free you or get my brothers’ attention.” He continues, glaring bitterly down at his clawed hands. You watch the powerful blue and white fin swish back and forth in the water and his sharp teeth clench together. Under normal circumstances, being a storm summoner is one of the most powerful subgroups of Mer there are; both of you would be more than a match for the people around you. You understand the frustration.

“I have an… idea.” He looks up at you again after you say that, curious and wary.

“I don’t like how you said that, senaar.” The blunt reply makes you softly smile just as much as the nickname does.

“Have you consumed?” Rex’s brown eyes squint at you before widening in shock. He quickly shakes his head with a look of disgust. You’re surprised to say the least. “You haven’t.”

“We were soldiers for the Jedi Order and the Republic for 3 years and before that I never had the need to.” He answers just above a whisper. Was eating a species weaker than your own so dispised now? It was strange hearing it from a species you had once heard stories of dragging harpies, who hunted too close to the sea, down below the depths. Perhaps Mer traits and instincts were far more affected by the kaminoan alchemists and the Jedi Knights than you initially thought.

“Do you know why your kind once drowned and ate humans?” You move the topic in a slightly different direction.

“It was a deterrent and…”

“And?”

“It strengthens our magic.” He stops to think and then suddenly looks like he would be sick. “And that happens even more so with other magical beings. You’re not suggesting…”

“It’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” You give him a guilty look. “If I could trade spots and have you give your blood instead, I would.”

He looks oddly relieved and it’s your turn to be confused as you begin to make a cut on your arm. You let the blood begin to trickle down toward his tank.

“What did you think I was gonna cut off my hand and throw it to you for a second?” You grumble sarcastically as he takes the first swallow of your blood.

“You did have me worried.” Rex smiles up at you as you both feel the air sizzle with magic. There was once a time where a Mer’s smile would make your blood run cold, but now the sharp teeth just fills you with hope and excitement for what is to come.

The raging storm has the guards and witch scurrying to hold everything down. Your cage swings to the point it’s dizzying, but you don’t care. You don’t need magic to feel that the Mer are coming.

Rex is exhausted after mustering that strong of a storm. The rain slams into both you and there is thunder and lightning everywhere. All there is left to do is wait, basking in the might of a storm summoner.

“Captain!” You jump, startled at a voice being the same as Rex’s. Suddenly there are dozens of Mer scattered throughout the courtyard and on top of the castle gate. They scatter almost as fast as you see them, but a good handful go for Rex. A mix of the Mer language, Mando’a, and basic immediately fills the air as his brothers pull him from the tank.

Magic is exchanged through a simple touch and Rex quickly changes to human form. While he still doesn’t have the energy to walk, it makes him a lot easier for his brothers to carry. Two of them hold him up while a third checks him over. Three more stand guard around them as fighting can be heard in the distance even with the hallowing wind.

“I’m alright, Kix.” You can’t help but grin along with the rest of the men at the tired remark. The medic, that you have already heard one or two stories about, rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that when we get home, but you’re good enough to be moved.” Kix sighs goodnaturedly. They begin to head for the exit and fear begins to bubble inside you.

“Yeah, Commanders Wolffe and Bly are tearing up the ocean looking for you.” You identify him as Jesse from the massive republic symbol on his helmet, helping carry Rex’s left side. He says it like it’s a joke, but it also has an undercurrent of worry to it.

“Wait. Free the harpy.” Rex orders; his men all stop before staring at Rex and then at you. You watch a couple of them gulp.

“You can’t be serious,” the arc mer with an intricate helmet design, who you are pretty sure is Fives, hisses.

“I wouldn’t have made it this far without her.” Rex stares up at you as he says it. You smile back and nod before pointing at the enchanted lock on your cage.

“Please let me out.” You beg, looking to the rest of the men. They all shuffle uncomfortably, caught between feeling obligated to let you out and the fear of the damage you could cause.

“What if she goes berserk!?” You glare at the one with the massive arrow pattern on his helmet, definitely Dogma.

“I can hear you.” You hiss at him causing all of them but Rex to flinch.

“The storm is lifting.” Tup says with a hint of worry as the winds begin to die down; you can see the painted teardrop on his helmet as he tilts up to look at the sky. Even with the fighting still going on in another part of the castle, it was best to leave now.

“I’m not leaving without her.” Rex pulls himself out of Jesse and Five’s grasp only to have Kix stop him from falling flat on his face.

“I’ll do it!” The final clone of the group announces, a little too excited, having already began pulling the lever to bring your cage to the ground. It comes down a little too fast, but you catch yourself on the bars.

“Sorry!”

“Hardcase!” He gives a slightly embarrassed laugh in response, scratching the back of his head.

A part of you wants to be mad; the majority of the Mer around stiffen with the expectancy you will be. However, the quick laugh that leaves your mouth serves to only make Hardcase nervously smile and Rex looks at you understandingly. Your freedom is so close.

Hardcase slices through the enchanted lock and you spring out into the sky, bearly giving him the chance to jump out of the way. You cackle at the feeling of the wind before circling back around to them.

You smile at them. Upon seeing your weren’t going to fall into the legendary harpy rage, they all seem to finally relax. They use their claws to scale back over the wall and the rest of the Mer retreat, having gotten what they came for.

“You never would have gotten out on your own, Harpy!” You freeze at the top of the courtyard wall. Rex turns to look back at you from his place on the ground with the rest of his group. He shakes his head; your mind registers the plea, but you can feel the fury of years of torment take over.

“You are always going to be mine! There is no way for you to ever be completely rid of me!” The witch’s words take hold and you turn around in a blind rage. There she stands, wounded and possibly already dying. It does not stop you from swooping down and ripping her apart. You proceed to do the same for every living person in the castle that night.

You don’t come out of it till dawn breaks. Covered in blood, you rise high above your old prison. You know the Mer and Rex are long gone, but you look around anyway. It was safer this way after all you remind yourself; if any of them had tried to stop you while you were like that, you probably would have killed them. There is a reason, after all, harpies are mostly solitary creatures.

You look toward the ocean and consider flying to the islands of Mandalore. Rex had made the home of the Mer sound like a paradise and you would be welcome to visit when you were both free. You smile sorrowfully before flying in the opposite direction.

It would take you months to gather the courage. You found yourself traveling from island to island, finding the world much changed by imperial rule especially with the Jedi Order gone. It was now your safest option to go live on one of the many outer rim islands.

You found yourself flying toward the home of the Mer without even completely comprehending it. Being a harpy they could always turn you away or even kill you for entering their territory, but you had to see Rex. The last look he gave you still ties your stomach in knots. And you miss him. You deeply miss him.

You meet no resistance as you make it to the massive island. They eye you warily, but none make a move to make you leave. You begin to grow frustrated as the hours pass; there are so many of the Sea Alor’s clones on this island intermixed with the original Mer population and even more spread throughout the island chain, not to mention under the water. How were you ever going to find him?

“Senaar!?” You stop and look down. Rex stands on the beach; his armor gleaming in the sun. It looks like he had just returned.

On pure instinct, you swoop down and crash into him. You wrap him in the tightest hug you can and his own arms squeeze you in turn as he falls backward into the water. You quickly let out apology after apology for everything, but he just smiles as you both sit up.

It is then you finally notice that there are way too many eyes on you. The renegade 501st members and some other rouge mer clones seem to swarm around the two of you and you become too embarrassed to talk.

“I missed you too.” The gentleness of his voice brings you comfort just like it did back in the courtyard. He gently leans his forehead to yours and his hands cup your face.

In that moment, you finally found what you had been searching for since you had been apart. You didn’t care about the witch's curse of haunting you, what the empire wanted, the old wounds between your species, or even your own kind’s long held belief in solitude. You understood one another and the sense of belonging made you feel at peace. You should have come sooner, but you're happy to be here with him now.

[kippykasey]

Double Trouble

Summary: Who knew a vampire, Freddie Kruger, and Ghost face could have so much fun?

Word Count: 1021

Characters: Sam and Colby and Reader

More spoops from Kippy's Spoopy Saturdays

Halloween parties aren’t normally a thing you normally do. At lease not since you were younger. Now you are dragged along with your friend to not only a party but a block wide event. One house had a haunted ‘barn’ maze set up in the large side lawn. There was a whole garage decked out as a witch hut where the drinks were being stored and handed out. There was one house specifically set up to entertain the teens. A projector was set up playing the horror classics. Lights, music, smoke effects where everywhere. Which is probably how you lost your friend with in the first hour of arriving.

Your hand clutched onto your drink of choice as you slowly walked around trying to find your unaccounted for friend. You admired the different themes and the fancy technical displays. Every time you thought you seen them it just ended up being a stranger. After a while of looking you just gave up and sat on the edge of a stone wall between the projector set up and the road that was packed with people dancing.

Someone dressed in the black gown and hooded mask of Ghostface, calmly leaned against the wall next to you. “Waiting for someone?” The deep voice confirmed that this was most definitely a male.

Your head tilts to look over at him. “Nah I lost my friend already. Not really used to all this.” You gestured to the surrounding area with the hand holding your drink, the liquid swirling around.

“Well we can’t just let you sit on a wall all night like some kind of gargoyle. Colby.” He stands up straight, his arm draping over your shoulders as he holds up his hand.

You shook his hand and introduced yourself before Colby gives you a nudge to get off the wall. You get off your perch and were instantly guided through the crowd and towards the witch hut where you run into a blonde wearing a signature stripped shirt the recognizable burn scar mask tucked under his arm as he got himself a drink. “Sam I adopted a vampire.” Colby jokes making the blonde turn to look over with a smile.

You introduce yourself to Sam and he passes a drink to Colby who stepped away from you to remove his mask. With both of them not wearing a mask you recognized the two from their ghost hunting youtube channel. “I see why you’re wearing the masks.” You comment looking between them. They looked at each other before turning back to you.

The three of you head off to the side where some picnic tables were set up for the food that was available earlier. You sat around one of the tables each with your own drink. “So you recognized us huh?” Sam looked up at you as he sips his drink.

“Honestly now that I know its you I would have known Colby by his name and face alone but I thought it was a voice changer or something. Not to mention I don’t really know too many people with the name Colby. Realistically I would have overlooked what you guys but I was watching your videos while getting ready to come.”

Colby chuckled and you three talked for a while before agreeing to walk through the fake barn maze. There was a small line which allowed small groups no larger than 6 in at a time. Colby and Sam put their masks into the drawstring bag that was hidden under Sam’s costume as you waited and you all were able to toss your empty drinks in a garbage right before entering into near darkness.

A winding path greeted you three where between the two and a half winding corridors were four automated animatronics that provided a good jump scare before opening up into the first room. The red and yellow lit room was decorated with fake hanging body limbs with the center having a table with delimbed torso. Just as you got around the corner a female whimper drew your attention to a caged area where a disheveled girl was locked inside pleading for you to help her. As you moved closer a chainsaw roared to life behind you as a leather face dressed man charged out of the hidden corner chasing the three of you out of the room and into the next section.

As you made your way through the last 3 rooms you have been positioned somewhere between the two. You swear Sam jumped a foot off the ground when he was caught off guard at the last jump scare. Your thoughts were confirmed when you left and Colby began to laugh and called Sam out on it. From there the three of you bumped into each other as you walked on to the next thing you were off to do, which was carve some pumpkins which really just became a but if a mess of pumpkin guts that was tossed about your table until your group was asked to leave.

The two put back on their masks and you gladly took videos of them going around scaring poor people passing by. When your friend finally texts to meet up, you took a group picture with the two who were enjoying making trouble scaring people and sent it with the location to meet up. Sam and Colby hid them selves and waited until your friend arrived popping out and gave your friend a good scare before the three of you exchanged numbers agreeing to join them on a future ghost hunt before you left with your friend.

“Told you, you would have fun.” Your friend walks backwards, their phone out and up.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes seconds before your head is bunched between your shoulders from the flinching reaction of two ‘Boos’ on either side of you accompanies by a Freddy Kruger and Ghost Face masks.

You turn playfully hitting the laughing guys on the shoulders as the turn to scurry away.

“Trouble I tell you. They are trouble.” You comment turning to your friend with a large smile.