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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 4 years ago

Text

The BNHA Group Chat Fic Nobody Asked For

Pairings: Todoroki Touya (Dabi)/Mr Compress (Sako Atsuhiro), Shimura Tenko (Shigaraki Tomura)/Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)/Kurono Hari (Chrono), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)/Shirakumo Oboro (Loud Cloud), Fukukado Emi (Ms. Joke)/Kayama Nemuri (Midnight), Bakugo Katsuki/Kaminari Denki/Kirishima Eijiro, Iida Tenya/Monoma Neito/ Aoyama Yuuga

Word Count: 2,065 Words

Summary: Tetsutetsu's girl squad has a meeting, Halloween outfits, Sako and Touya are cute, and Kaminari comes out.

Warnings: Teen/Underage Pregnancy Mention, Period/Menstruation Mention, Food Mention, Blood Mention, Cursing, Death Mention, Half Blind Character, Deaf Characters, Mostly Mute Character (due to a different medical issue), Selectively Mute Character, let me know if I should add anything else.

Usernames: We Are Number One™ Aizawa: Dadzawa, Aoyama: immafiringmahlaser, Ashido: princessbubblegumknockoff, Asui: Galvan, Iida: Emergency Exit, Uraraka: 9.8, Ojiro: tailfloof, Kaminari: Pichu, Kirishima: baby shark, Koda: youredoingamazingsweetie, Sato: GuyFieriIsGod, Shoji: Cthulhu, Jirou: Jack Skellington, Sero: Spider-Man, Tokoyami: EdgarAllanCrows, Todoroki: WHERE?, Hagakure: cena, Bakugo: WHAT?, Midoriya: SmolMight, Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: exhausted, Yaoyorozu: TheGreatCreator, Kurono: stopwatch, Chisaki: donthugmeimscared, Yukimura: choticgaydisaster, Bubaigawara: shadowclonejutsu, Shimura: idontfeelsogood, Awase: illrememberyouallintherapy, Kaibara: IDOWHATIWANT, Kamakiri: scyther, Kuroiro: itsmeyaboy, Kendo: Akimichi, Kodai: deadinside, Komori: shroomgurl, Shiozaki: wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs, Shishida: furry, Shoda: cryptid, Tsunotori: mylittlepony, Tsubaraba: airbender, Tetsutetsu: Iron Man, Tokage: t-rex costume, Fukidashi: glorifiedtextbubble, Honenuki: Eren Jaeger/spookyscaryskeletons, Bondo: Slimer, Monoma: HopeSummers, Yanagi: iLiEdImDyInGiNsIdE, Rin: snek, Toga: mystique, Sako: lostmymarbles, Hikiishi: queenofmagnetism, Iguchi: eye gucci, Shinokanri: stardust

Usernames: Emos Anonymous Kaminari: blackcloakedbrides, Shoji: fryingpan, Jirou: greentwentyfourhours, Tokoyami: myscientificinfatuation, Todoroki: twentyoneplotpoints, Bakugo: immobileinwhite, Midoriya: falldownboy, Shinsou: stabtheveil, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Chisaki: plummetingininverse, Yukimura: anxietyintheclub, Shimura: nappingwithsirens, Kuroiro: thousandfootcane, Kodai: marianaspit, Monoma: entiretimelow, Yanagi: recentyearsday, Sako: halfminutetomars, Aizawa: hollywoodlivingdead, Shouji: fryingpan, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Aoyama: phantomtown, Honenuki: visualizedragon, Sako: halfminutetomars, Awase: distressparade, Shinokanri: simplestrategy

Usernames: UA Teachers Are Tired™ Eraserhead/Aizawa: grumpy scarf cat, Present Mic/Yamada: screeching cockatiel, Midnight/Nemuri: chaotic goth gay Ingenium/Iida: gotta go fast, AllMight/Toshinori: actual sunshine, Vlad King/Kan: bloody hell, Power Loader/Majima: speechtotext, Ectoplasm: needalegup?, Snipe: kazoo cowboy, Cementoss: concrete block, Blackmist/Kurogiri: goth portals

Oh? Tea-Chapter 5

7:32 AM

We Are Number One™

WHERE?: [pic of Kumo, Ahma, and Sora playing tag with Kaede and Michi]

WHERE?: {pic of Hoshi, Tsuki, and Taiyo drawing with Asahi and Emica]

WHERE?: They're adorable today.

SmolMight: precious.

EdgarAllanCrows: I stan ten (10) good daughters of darkness.

SmolMight: Tokoyami and Dark Shadow helping with the girls is the cutest thing to see. I have been blessed upon witnessing this.

EdgarAllanCrows: They have claimed me as their weird bird uncle. I accept this. I shall cherish and spoil them.

chaoticgaydisaster: Thank god we have you to help, Tokoyami. I can't fucking move.

Emergency Exit: Why can you not move? Are you injured, Touya? Should someone help you to Recovery Girl?

chaoticgaydisaster: no, I'm just having my period and day two hurts more than day one.

lostmymarbles: I'll get your hot water bottle and ice cream.

Dadzawa: I got you excused from your hero training class today. Shoto, do you need to be excused today as well?

WHERE?: As much as I hate the assumption that me and my brother have the same cycle, we do and yes I do need today off hero training class.

mylittlepony: Why do they get off? Aren't periods normal?

SmolMight: they both have issues with their menstrual cycles where Shoto's is very heavy and Touya's is very painful.

mylittlepony: Oh, I get it, please excuse my ignorance of the situation.

chaoticgaydisaster: it's fine, Pony.

WHERE?: it's okay, you didn't know.

Iron Man: Do you two need anything?

HopeSummers: Tetsu, no, you can't abduct them into your little group.

WHERE?: I'm scared to ask, but what group?

Akimichi: Tetsutetsu is the leader of the UA Girls Protection Squad. He helps us all with our monthlies and just generally protects us from the grape gremlin in your class.

WHERE?: I agree to be abducted into this cult you have, Tetsutetsu.

chaoticgaydisaster: same here. let me join your cult.

Iron Man: These are now my children.

glorifiedtextbubble: great, he has more children

t-rex costume: meeting happens in one of you two's rooms tonight.

deadinside: We'll come at the meeting bearing food, tea, heat pads, and movies of you two's choice.

chaoticgaydisaster: I like disney movies.

WHERE?: pixar

SmolMight: oh god, this again.

SmolMight: just bring dreamworks movies. they can't fight over which is better then.

Iron Man: Thanks Midoriya.

SmolMight: you're very welcome. I just don't want to hear them have another pixar versus disney fight tonight.

Dadzawa: alright kids, time for class soon, make sure you're all ready except Yukimura and Todoroki.

4:07 PM

We Are Number One™

Iron Man: We come bearing zaru soba, oyakodon, curry bread, takoyaki, tonjiru, ice cream, and chamomile tea!

chaoticgaydisaster: so much food, jeez.

mystique: Tetsu insisted we make sure you two eat enough since you have bad periods and you might get anemic.

Iron Man: Plus, we also made sure they're all soft enough for you, Touya.

chaoticgaydisaster: hold on, gonna cry right quick.

WHERE?: don't cry too hard, it'll hurt.

chaoticgaydisaster: I know.

Iron Man: omw with the curry bread, tea, and cuddles! Girls, you better catch up, I'm running my way over to them.

chaoticgaydisaster: Thank you, Tetsu.

Iron Man: It's with my greatest honor.

6:24 PM

We Are Number One™

9.8: so what's everyone going as for Halloween?

cena: I'm going as the old school version of Mystique.

Spider-Man: only because I had to convince her to wear clothing and not do the movie version.

cena: you're no fun, Hanta! It's not like they'd see me!

tailfloof: anyway, moving on from the couple in aisle five, I'm going as Winter Soldier.

baby shark: me, Denki, and Katsuki are going as Mitsuki, Boruto, and Sarada

princessbubblegumknockoff: I'd kill to see Bakugo in a Sarada costume but we all know that's gonna be Kaminari.

princessbubblegumknockoff: also I'm goin as Eridan with Hatsume as Feferi.

TheGreatCreator: Me and Jirou are going as Sally from Nightmare before Christmas and Emily from the Corpse Bride. She insisted on scary and I cannot say no.

EdgarAllanCrows: This year, I'm going as a ghost bride. Last year I was a vampire, and the year before I was a witch. But this year, I am a ghost bride.

EdgarAllanCrows: And I have convinced my boyfriends to kind of match with me.

Cthulhu: What he means to say is he's going as a ghost bride, I'm going as a zombie, Koda will be a groom, and Sato is planning to be a skeleton.

Pichu: heh, four stages of life.

EdgarAllanCrows: He gets it. Our plan is working.

Galvan: I'm going as Harley and Ivy.

Emergency Exit: I'm going as the MCU Quicksilver.

immafirinmahlaser: I'm going to be the wonderful Viktor Nikivorov this year.

Dadzawa: I have been roped into group costumes this year

exhausted: what are they, dad, we're all so curious to know, I'm sure.

Dadzawa: you're going with us, don't act surprised.

Dadzawa: Mic and Midnight dragged me and Tensei into dressing up as the main cast of Heathers with Shinsou as a next generation Heather.

cena: which heather are you playing, Mr. Aizawa?

Dadzawa: Chandler with Mic as Macnamara, Midnight as Duke, and Tensei as Veronica.

cena: interesting. and Shinsou?

exhausted: well, ya see, I didn't want to go as JD so Mic came up with my character so it isn't the best character. I'm going as Heather Bay.

cena: and she is?

Dadzawa: Basically Chandler's kid that she gave up. Mic isn't very creative but we stan him anyway.

princessbubblegumknockoff: I think it's cute! you're still going as parent and child!

chaoticgaydisaster: me and Sho decided to go as Freed and Rufus from Fairy Tail.

Jack Skellington: so kinda twins but not really. crafty boys.

shadowclonejutsu: the rest of us ex-league are going as pokemon and Touya was supposed to be vulpix, but he wanted to be almost matchy with Shoto

chaoticgaydisaster: I know, I was supposed to wear a vulpix costume to match my husband being eevee but this is also my first halloween with my brother in well...forever.

princessbubblegumknockoff: Wait, so is this you two's first halloween?

WHERE?: yes. together at least. i've had one with my daughters and touya has had one with the League but we never had one together.

princessbubblegumknockoff: can I join the Fuck Endeavor squad @SmolMight?

SmolMight: I'm just the spokesperson of the Fuck Endeavor Squad. Touya and Shoto are the presidents. But yes, you can join.

princessbubblegumknockoff: good. yeet his stupid ass at the sun.

WHERE?: amen.

chaoticgaydisaster: preach girl.

8:34 PM

We Are Number One™

Pichu: babe, I need cuddles.

WHAT?: I'm on my way

Pichu: god, I love my husband

lostmymarbles: what a mood

chaoticgaydisaster: Atsu! don't make me blush! I have a reputation!

lostmymarbles: My husband is the best. God, I love him. He's amazing.

chaoticgaydisaster: Atsu, you're destroying my reputation!

lostmymarbles: sometimes I still hear him screeching when he blushes.

chaoticgaydisaster: I'm bout to be screeching at you, I'm blushing dammit

WHERE?: [pic of Touya blushing]

WHERE?: he's a tomato now.

chaoticgaydisaster: betrayed by my own brother. Monoma, may I join you on the roof?

HopeSummers: Sure, I guess but I don't want you to die so I'd have to shield you from the ground.

chaoticgaydisaster: worth it

lostmymarbles: babe no!

chaoticgaydisaster: Okay, I guess I won't.

HopeSummers: wow, that was easy.

chaoticgaydisaster: I am a simple man. my husband tells me not to jump off a building and I won't do it.

10:38 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: the name change paperwork is now done. now it's just the hearing and official birth certificate change.

Emergency Exit: That's great, Mr. Aizawa!

Dadzawa: we're having korokkes to celebrate. me and a few select Chosen Ones™ shall go get ingredients.

chaoticgaydisaster: sweet potato and chicken.

WHERE?: pumpkin and tuna

HopeSummers: Wow, you two have weird cravings.

idontfeelsogood: you should've seen Touya's cravings when he was pregnant.

shadowclonejutsu: It was even weirder combinations.

eye gucci: there was that instance with the pears and mushrooms

WHERE?: mine were bad too. but you can probably already tell that.

Dadzawa: anyway, anyone else want anything different than sweet potato and chicken or pumpkin and tuna

TheGreatCreator: shrimp please and pork for Jirou

shadowclonejutsu: I want shrimp too

SmolMight: I just like cheese in mine, Tokoyami says he likes salmon, Sako says he likes egg.

baby shark: Baku likes ham and cheese, Kami likes mushrooms, and I like shrimp too.

cena: Me and ojiro both like eggplant and Tsu and Mina both like peppers, onions, and cheese

idontfeelsogood: count me in for pepper, onions, and cheese

donthugmeimscared: me too

stopwatch: same here

GuyFieriIsGod: ya know what? I want octopus in mine.

Cthulhu: I second the octopus.

9.8: I like tomato and cheese.

immafirinmahlaser: moi likes ham and cheese as well, reminds me of home.

Spider-Man: spinach and tofu.

GuyFieriIsGod: Koda says kimchi and cheese for him.

Emergency Exit: ...kimchi and cheese as well

princessbubblegumknockoff: oh my god, Iida likes weird food combos too!? revolutionary.

SmolMight: we stan one (1) good fast boy

Dadzawa: and my son likes kimchi and cheese in his too. Ashido, Hagakure, and Yaoyorozu, you three are Chosen™.

Dadzawa: choose who you may to go with you.

cena: I'm bringing Tsu and Ochako.

princessbubblegumknockoff: I'm dragging Mei with me.

TheGreatCreator: I'll bring Jirou

cena: girls only outing with Mr. Aizawa!

Pichu: does that mean I go too?

GuyFieriIsGod: Kami, you're a girl?

Pichu: I'm kinda working on that.

baby shark: you sure you wanna tell everyone?

Pichu: yeah, it's not like they won't find out.

Pichu: I'm in the process of transitioning mtf. I'm just trying to get up enough money to get bottom surgery. then it's just my HRT.

WHERE?: is there a way I can convince you to let me pay for it?

Pichu: I...wait, did you just offer to pay for my bottom surgery?

WHERE?: yes.

Pichu: Todoroki, I can't accept that! I have to earn this myself.

WHERE?: okay

Dadzawa: anyway, girls, come on. (yes, you too Kaminari)

Spider-Man: Hey, Kami, is there a name you've picked out yet?

Pichu: yeah, I was thinking Akari or Uzume. I'm leaning more toward Uzume.

princessbubblegumknockoff: I love our good pichu girl Uzume Kaminari.

Dadzawa: I'll begin the paperwork for getting you switched to the girls dorms if you'd like after we eat.

Pichu: Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!

Dadzawa: I have a clinging pokemon daughter and I couldn't be happier.

princessbubblegumknockoff: [pic of Kaminari hugging Aizawa tightly in the van]

Izukrew

11:04 PM

We Are Number One™

WHERE?: I have an idea for Kaminari.

SmolMight: I'm all ears.

WHERE?: before that happens.

WHERE? has added WHAT? to Izukrew

WHERE?: where does Kaminari work, Bakugo?

WHAT?: Heiwa to Chowa in Kamino. Evening shift from 5 to 10 every day. I have a feeling I know what you and your brother are planning, Fireball.

WHAT?: And I greatly approve of what you're planning. Uzume is a stubborn woman, she won't accept help if she's put her mind to doing it herself. She's only got the last 300 dollars from the cost of the surgery to cover.

WHERE?: Good, thank you. I shall plan accordingly. Touya starts the same shift tomorrow so I have an excuse to be there if questioned.

WHAT?: I'm leaving now. I'll be there to watch at her shift start tomorrow. You better be nice to her.

WHERE?: I may be gay but I know how to treat women, I drink my respecting women juice every morning.

WHAT?: Good, drink your respecting women juice or else I'll explode your face.

WHAT?: With that lovely sentiment.

WHAT? has left Izukrew

9.8: I feel like I just watched a back-alley deal and I love it.

SmolMight: You get used to it. That's just how Kacchan and Shocchan interact with each other now that they're friends.

9.8: Kamino made you two scary close.

WHERE?: we're also pretty close with Shinsou and Bakugo had a real bonding moment with Touya.

WHERE?: you bond pretty well with a person when you're trapped together and happen to have your periods at the same time while kidnapped.

9.8: you got me there.

Emergency Exit: Todoroki, are you going to take money out of your father's card to pay for Kaminari's surgery?

WHERE?: you're getting it Iida. you are correct, that's exactly what I'm doing.

Emergency Exit: Then I shall go with you to make sure you don't do anything stupid.

Taglist: @logan-sanders-enthusiast @luckyicekitsune @whippedbel @lgbtforeverything @pinecone-chomper @mikmacmoo @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @purplespiderstormcloud @stankyratman @king-of-the-oranges @headcannons-and-random-things @fear-ze-queer @turtleluv799 @ymmm-someone

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #snoweywrites #the bnha group chat fic nobody asked for #league of misfit heroes au #tw pregnancy mention #tw period mention #tw menstruation mention #tw food mention #tw blood mention #tw cursing #tw death mention

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thecourtsknight · 4 years ago

Note

I already know the answer to 💐 for alexandra but I need you to tell the public anyways. also, 🥀 for alexandra as well, 🌠 for quill (I think quill's a level 8 Baby), 💦 for stag, and 🌳 for rufus

TELL THE PU BL IC WHAT??? THAT SHES A BRAT?? DFGKJH. okay okay.

gunna have to put this under a read more.

For Alex

How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

Awful. Genuinely unbearable. This woman acts like she has to work 24/7 or her bones will turn into sawdust. She will do anything she can to stay out of a bed, her getting any kind of illness aggravates her to no extent and she makes sure everyone around her knows that. I’d say the main people who fuss over her most is, understandably, Cornelius as its his fucking job but probably Florence? and definitely Quill. Even though she’s usually denied entry as not to catch or spread anything Alex might have.

I wouldn’t say she hates being doted on. She’s prideful and it does feel odd to have someone literally take care of her in that sense because no ones done that since her parents but in a weird way she does appreciate it and shes not one to not thank someone looking out for her. She mind drive Cornelius insane with how much she doesn’t do what he asks but she will thank him at the end of the day when she finally agrees to sleep for a bit.

It’s very much a “thank you, I really appreciate all of this... but also I am getting out of the bed.”

Being reversed on the other hand. Alexandra cares a lot of for folks, she isn’t the best at knowing what to do if they’re sick but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She’s always been one to do what she can for other people if she has the means to, it’s why she tries to stay so in tune with her crew and actively ask them if there’s anything that can be done to help if something is truly bothering them. And then all of this kinda got turned up to an 11 when Quill came on board because.

Well. It’s. Quill. Alexandra had honestly never felt the actual fear of someone getting sick until Quill got sick when she was younger and it actually had her kind of frazzled, because this was no longer an adult she could offer support to this was a child that was her responsibility. She is actually a surprisingly good caregiver though, she’s very diligent and focused with making sure someone is recovering well but not as strict as someone like Cornelius. She won’t give someone too much shit for wanting to get up when they’re sick because hey haha handshake emoji.

How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Alexandra, for the most part, has a very. Confusing way of writing. She writes pure chicken scratch for one and a lot of her notes can end up sounding utterly confusing. She’s not one to draw unless she REALLY has to because shes not very confident or even really that comfortable with sketching something. Quill’s always been the better visual artist even if her artistic skills aren’t really that great either.

She’ll often find herself writing things down like ‘Solid Iron. Fire. Moth’s Wing.’ which makes no fucking sense but then she’d explain that something she’s researching will most likely be made out of solid iron, have something to do or be aligned with fire elements and its rumored to cause a supposed affect when Moth’s Wings are used as fuel. But to anyone else its like what the fuck am I reading.

She actually struggles writing coherently a lot of the time but she had to for her own novels, those honestly ate up so much of her time journeying back from places which was a blessing and a curse because she’d much rather be enjoying being out and about on the deck and enjoying the trip back to land instead of cooped up in her god damn quarters trying to recap shit.

An example of a more put together entry that you’d find in her novels would be something like:

‘I believe one of the many things we came across and managed to get our hands on was a Belt of Dwarvenkind. For any readers who might not know what such items are rumored to do let me explain. If you’re not of Dwarven Lineage for starters you can write, read and even speak Dwarvish. (I can confirm, firsthand, that this is very much true. It was one of the first things I ran to check once we got back to my dear ship.) Your vision in the dark improves exceedingly well and according to most sources I could find you handling poisonings or anything that perhaps might have a bit more of a poisonous sting to its arsenal a lot more thoroughly. As much as I’m sure you’re all dying to know my findings on that one I wasn’t exactly in the mood this evening to put that one to the test.

Though anyone who wears this belt will immediately feel a lot more thoroughly stronger and resilient and I can vouch. There’s also mentions of it being worn makes speaking to Dawrven kind a lot more smoother though that implies that Dwarves aren’t already a wonderful bunch to converse with. Attuning to such an item felt like a no-brainer with all of these wonderful effects but alas three things stood in my way. Belt’s like this don’t exactly suit me, secondly I’d rather give these artifacts the proper home they deserve to be studied in more depth and have at the ready instead of being here with me and I always uphold to that and third... From what little knowledge I could grab, there appears to be a rather common chance for people who don this belt to grow out a full-on beard and... Unfortunately, due to wanting to attempt to attune to the belt and test a few things out I’d rolled rather luckily on such a chance, if you can call it that. So I can confirm firsthand that this side-effect of sorts is entirely true for this belt. Unless something cursed me back in that building to grow a beard. You can never tell’

For Quill(and techincally me)

On a scale of 1 - 10 how Baby is your OC? BONUS when asking this question rate the OC yourself as see if the reply matches up!!

I’d say an 8 is pretty much there. 7-8 would’ve been my guess. She might try to act big and strong and put on a whole show of it but really... she is just a soft idiot who really wants to rest her head in someones lap and have her hair played with.

For Stag!

If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

Honestly? I’d say her dad passing away, especially in the originally way I saw it. As much as its important to the story beats of Stag’s own story, its something as of late I wouldn’t mind reworking into something else. Though I’m also okay with it staying.

And Rufus!!!

What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

Rufus likes to sit and watch things. An ideal evening for them would be watching some birds try to find things for their nests, watching ants carry things back to help their colony. Watching the way the wind shakes the trees as the sun starts to set.

If there’s nothing really available to focus on reading is their usual go to. They like to read outside if they can, and just gather their thoughts or cook with their mother. Gardening also comes to mind if they really need something to do with their hands but thats only if they’re utterly frustrated and need something to actually focus that negative energy into.

#my GOD THIS IS FUCKING LONG IM SO SORRY #my ocs #rufus #quill #alexandra #stag #agent 3 #dnd #splatoon #SORRY FOR HTE LENGTH.#nevermore117

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lalalariot · 5 years ago

Text

I’m watching again gossip girl(never watch it lineally) BUT I’m doing this for HBO I guess (and this Nostradamus series predicting my love life to an extent )

Soooo....

1 .I still don’t like Vanessa,the most annoying character being hypocrite .

2. “SereNate” is a horrible and forced shipping . Serena wasn’t over Dan in the whole series and Nate had a platonic love towards Serena,wasn’t that real to begin with ,he was in love with the fantasy of Serena not “the flawed Serena” as Dan did(he started platonic but they loved each other even with flaws)

3. Georgina is a boss (not as good as Blair but second best) she was like Cassie from skins but evil .

4. I still love Blair ,she is childish sometimes but she is the best character

5. Jenny and Nate had WAY more chemistry than most other people they dated (Vanessa,the gay,Damian,Serena ,Milf and the ginger) They should approach more this characters and they did dirty to Jenny (yes ,she slept with Chuck but she should loose here V card with Nate ...Not Chuck)

6. Chuck is a character I have mixed feelings .

7. The shippings were toxic AF but they had sense somehow .I meant ... they talked things specially Dan and Serena .

8. Dorota and Cyrus were the best

9. I don’t understand why Georgina and Carter never dated . They could have been a power couple.(she looks good with Jack tho)

10. Eric deserved more scandals or being into the main characters drama more

11. Dan is the less toxic of the main characters ... but has an inferiority complex .But e less toxic was Vanya(the Russian door keeper) the rest were more messy

12. I don’t think Serena is a bad person BUT she always plays victim roll and put puppy eyes to justify her mistakes .EDIT she doesn’t have the right to raise her voice to Rufus for her daddy issues

13. I think Williamis pretentious as F ...

14. Why all Brooklyn people are “poor” or feel less than upper east siders?! (Maybe was the time the series was done because Brooklyn now can be as expensive as Manhattan)

15. I felt bad for Jenny ... not even hating her ,just pity her

16. When those robbers took Chuck’s ring my heart broke ;( ,honestly ... I mean,he deserved all Dan’s punches honestly BUT taking the engagement ring that was going to be Blair’s ... sad

17. Why didn’t Blair call Chuck saying she was running late because she was supporting Dorota while she was on labor.

18. Dorota’s wedding no was beautiful,thank you Chuck and Cyrus for making that wedding beautiful!

19. Eva is so nice ,I think Blair crossed the line with her for jealousy and inmaturity.

20. Juliet(Columbia chick ) is worse

21. Vanessa was nice supporting Dan and Milo (the baby) I liked Dan and Vanessa while taking care of Georgina’s baby as a couple

22. Chuck was a better person with Eva , but I sill love Chuck and Blair more but was not bad with Eva,don’t hate on her just because she dated Chuck lol... if she was a snake like Juliet or Vanessa maybe but she was nice ,just a prostitute but a nice person.

23. I can’t relate to Juliet ,her brother is nice but sheeee .I don’t know ,she had to go to far for a grudge that is not even hers , her cousin was helping her ... what kind of sabotage is this?

24. Serena is kissing a lot of guys ... damn,this is so annoying and awkward

25. Can’t believe Serena leaves Blair and acts up like is the end of the world if Blair is busy,double moral much ...so Blair has to be ok with Serena leaving following guys and Blair can’t leave while pursuing her goals?

26. Russell vibe reminds me to the guy from Shark tank ... the whole vibe ,wouldn’t be surprise if the author did based the character on him

27. I don’t want Chuck to loose his empire

28. Raina is not a bad character BUT if she has to be dragged to save Chuck’s empire we’ll .... it has to be done

29. Damian is a thot level 100 ... first Jenny then Jenny’s best friend, Eric ! That’s so low ... this guy is so complicated

30. Jenny is just easily manipulated ,but Vanessa and Juliet are bigger snakes.Still no empathy to neither

31. I still don’t think Nate’s dad is a reliable lawyer .

32. Just a genuine question ,why all characters that are not from the upper east side have inferiority complex?

33. What Lily did with Ben was HORRIBLE but I don’t think he’s for Serena,he deserves better.

34. Dan and Blair are getting into each other?! Is not bad

35. I like Charlie(way more than Vanessa or Serena)...lets hope they don’t screw her having some inferiority complex to make everyone look nice 😂

36. Selfish Serena

37. Jack Bass looks SO NICE WITH BEARD ... I would keep him ...

38. Chuck crash a window and he finally fights for Blair when she has an engagement ring?!

39. Snake Serena ...

40. Russell Thorpe has a double moral but Chuck’s dad is not behind.

41. Why everyone banish others “go,never come back to New York “ .Blair did it with Jenny and Chuck with Russell .

42. Cyrus is so nice ,he’s helping so much Blair ! God bless this man

why she made her cousin spend her trust funds ?!

43.Is getting pretty dull and boring all this boring royal family and Ivy’s boyfriend ,he’s plain imo ... never mind

44.I still like more Ivy/Charlie than Vanessa

45. Serena’s auntie is a mess,I liked her as a teen but this lady is greedy and lazy .I liked her but she goes so low :( ... this is how you destroy a good character

46. Chuck and Blair in therapy ... something that should happen way before if you ask me ,but we wouldn’t have as much seasons

47. That milf is so annoying (Elizabeth Hurley’s character) ... why can’t she make her mind if she loves Nate or is a toy boy (but we all know he’s everyone’s toy boy)

48. Nate barely has self respect ,that’s not something just women should have ...men also

49 I can understand Ivy but she goes too far ,she could run away with the money and that’s it ! That family is rich af and will “recover “ in less than a month .

50 low key Ivy and her ex dynamic is so toxic ... both greedy people who try to climb social class seducing or stealing ... damage each other during and after the relationship,wtf

51 Honestly I could care less about those two ...

52 I would rather to have Rhodes family crazy flashbacks

53 Dan is so entitled ,he says he doesn’t care what people say about him and goes to his hater’s address.Kinda creepy

54. Nate’s cousin ... Chip is not thaaaat bad :(

55 But he got what he deserved

I’ll give more insights while I advance ...

*EDIT #1 started season 4

*EDIT#2 Season 4 almost over

* EDIT#3 season 5,half way

#gossip girl #chair #chuck and blair #blair waldorf #chuck bass #nate archibald #serena van der woodsen #jenny humphrey #dan humphrey #eric van der woodsen #opinions

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leah-halliwell92 · 6 years ago

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Too Much Love Can Kill You

Summary: Soul marks are found through touch and song, one must sing to find their half and touch completes their connection. To reject your mark is to sentence them to death. You have been on tour with Brian, Roger and Rufus for a year and have known them for nearly four. What happens you find out along the way that you are the mark of one Brian May?

Previously:

You knew he’d reject you, knew the reasons behind why he would reject you and knew by default there would be a chance you would die. The question now is how did he approach you. How could he after what he had put you through? Pressing his palm to your cheek he noticed how your quivering instantly stopped.

The warmth that came from his mark at the skin to skin contact shocked him. How could he have not seen this? Or felt to his very core the effects their song? Was he that blind?

Prologue – Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4

0º0º0º0

Chapter 5

A shiver ran through your body making you unconsciously reach for the source of the comforting warmth.

Brian pulled you close enveloping you in his arms and warmth of his body. The closer he pulled you, the more he felt your bond grow. And not for the first time he wondered how on God’s green Earth had he overlooked such a bond so thoroughly to the point of desensitizing himself to the point of not being able feel the tells of a bond or even the clues that lead to one having created a bond.

He pulled you deeper as he worked (and managed) to get himself into a comfortable position enough to rest without waking you settling you on his chest as he lay on his back tucking your head under his chin your head pillowed on his shoulder. Instead of falling asleep though, Brian kept his gaze on you marveling at the feel of your warmth pressing on his side, how peaceful you looked in your sleep now that you were together and how right you feel nestled in his embrace pressed against his tall frame your bond full and shared warmth lulling you both into a long awaited state of affection and calm.

'I am a fool,' he thought to himself in a derogatory manner a sad half grin tugging at a corner of his mouth before heaving a tired sigh.

He let out a surprised gasp when he felt your shared bond envelop him in a sea of comfort and couldn't but smile tenderly at this.

Even in your sleep, you cared for him and his well being.

Brian believed you only cared because of the bond when he couldn't be farther from the truth. In the years that you have known him, the years since the doors to your bond were opened, you had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with him despite your better judgement.

-/Time Skip/-

Dawn filtered through the curtains illuminating the room in a soft warm glow creating a warm romantic atmosphere as the haze of the morning intensified as the made its steady presence known.

You woke with a content hum as a smile crept onto your face. You looked up to see Brian there and couldn't help but wrap your arms around his middle pulling yourself as close to him as you could...he's not real after all.

Brian woke to the feel of you moving about as you shifted in his arms your shared bond humming in contentment and peace as both sides met.

The previous day's events momentarily forgotten, by you both, gave him the chance to bask in the feeling of you and your bond fully.

“Good morning,” he said as he stretched before wrapping his arms around you.

You cocked your head to the side in wonder.

Brian grew concerned as your look got curious and wonder filled but kept from touching you apart from the position you were in. There is no need to scare you or cause a relapse of yesterday’s events if he could help it.

You studied his face your eyes traveling from his nose to his mouth before landing on his eyes.

Brian returned the searching gaze. In his case thought it is more exploratory and filled with wonder than anything.

He wondered, not for the first time, what all he had done in his life for fate to grant him a beautiful soulmark such as you and prayed to whatever higher power that is out there to grant him the blessing of being not only worthy but deserving of a second chance with you after all that he has done to cause you pain no matter if it was done intentionally or not.

He saw your sleepy eyes shift from curious to sad and waited on bated breath to see what your reaction would be to him not only being there but the position they are in. To be honest, he expects tears and yelling, screaming and hitting even. So he was caught of guard when a tired yet happy grin lit up your face.

Brian felt his heart flutter as you placed your free hand on his cheek tenderly running your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Hello,” you said airily.

He pressed his free hand over yours on his cheek and sighed happily at the feel of your hand on his cheek and the content hum of your bond.

Brian pressed his lips to your forehead in loving kiss leaving his lips pressed to your it as he held onto you as if for dear life.

You hummed as you leaned into his touch reveling on the feel of his lips on your skin before reluctantly pulling away.

“What is it my dear?” Brian asked lightly hiding his concern hoping that reality wouldn’t creep in now that promise at a future had shown itself to him.

“You’re not real,” you say brokenly voice barely above a whisper.

Brian felt like he had been kicked in the gut at those words and pressed her hand to his cheek harder as tears came unbidden to his eyes.

“But I am,” he said trying to keep himself together long enough to convince you that he is indeed real.

You shook your head tears falling from your eyes as you pulled your blanket around you creating a barrier between you and him.

“This is a dream...My– I mean Brian would not be here,” you say a blank smile replacing the happy grin he had been greeted with, “You can’t be real...”

Brian closed his eyes as despair roared in him and travelled through their bond.

“What if he is here, what if I am here and real?” he asked voice breaking keeping your hand on his cheek.

You shook your head smile falling into a grin as your lower lip trembled.

“You can’t be...I may love you with every fiber of my being. But who says you you feel the same? I know for a fact that you don’t feel the same,” she said voice thick with tears.

Brian froze as another “hit” met his gut, pain and disbelief plain for all to see.

“I know “you” weren’t too far away from rejecting me. Like when River Song was called out for being associated with the Doctor,” she said as tears fell and the hand beneath his shook, “‘You are the woman that loves the Doctor,’ and later confirmed through a breaking heart, ‘I am I’ve never denied it, but whoever said he loved me back?’”

Brian looked on heart breaking as he saw you break under the truth of his rejection.

You pulled your hand from between his hand and cheek to play with the curls that had fallen on his forehead.

“At least I can have this,” you said sadly as your tears fell, “At least I can have the dream of him beside me. A ghost of what it would have been like to have him beside me. His arms around me our bond full and complete basking in the warmth that is our love, acceptance and peace.”

“Please,” Brian said pleadingly, “I am here (Y/N), I promise I am here.”

Desperate to show her that he truly is real, Brian pulled her close frustratingly pulling away at the blanket you had wrapped yourself in.

He lifted your shirt up slightly exposing your mid section and placed his hand on the curve of your middle.

Skin to skin contact feeds bonds, he hoped this fact aided theirs.

“Please...” he said pulling you to him pressing his forehead to yours as the hand on your middle tightened.

Throwing caution (and his man bits) to the air he ducked down enough to press a yearning kiss to your lips.

0º0º0º0

If you wanna be tagged shoot me an ask!!! Thanks for reading don’t forget to like and reblog!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!

0º0º0º0

Tag list: @pansexualqueendarling, @queenattheopera, @brianandthemays, @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever, @ramibaby, @captain–americanna, @awkwardangelshezza, @avengerraven1023, @danamaleksworld, @pastywhiteperson, @readinghorn, @i-was-born-like-this, @redspecialstardust, @reedusteinrambles, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @readinghorn, @subbysharkbabe, @capan-devereaux, @bowieandqueen11, @bellamy1998, @reedusteinrambles, @mazzello-lee-jones-malek, @sincereleygmg, @bleu-jean-baby, @brian-mayonnaise, @0hour9am, @toomuchtellyneck

#brian may #roger taylor #rufus taylor #sarina taylor #roger taylor x sarina taylor #brian may x reader #present day brian may x reader #2019!brian may #2019!roger taylor #present day brian may #present day roger taylor #too much love can kill you #soulmate fic #queen fic #brian may fic

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softlyblues · 5 years ago

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026420

Moist von Lipwig, Postmaster General, Vice-President of the Ankh-Morpork Bank, Generally Involved in Railways and the Man in the Golden Suit, is currently sitting on a chair drinking a very good, but very cold cup of tea, and staring in stunned silence at the man in front of him.

This would shock most people who know him. Or at least, think they do. The people of the city pride themselves on their smooth-talking Golden Man, who found the magic of the post, who found all that money by praying to the gods, who invented money, who started the railways - they love him, and his witty battles in The Times with Sacharissa Crisplock. When he was married, the wedding took up three whole pages, and when his baby was born that was another two. Moist von Lipwig in the minds of the people is an unflappable man, a man with a Plan (not a plan, a Plan) a man with something to say in every situation.

His wife, Adora Belle, has seen him stunned to silence many times. This is why she is his wife. Commander Vimes has seen him shocked, too, but this is because Sybil and Sam (and young Sam) are regular dinner guests of Moist and Adora Belle (and young Letty, who’s just said her first word).

The man in front of him has also seen him stunned to silence many times. This is why he is his boss.

“I don’t know why any of this comes as a surprise to you, Lipwig,” says Lord Vetinari calmly. “Time passes, does it not?”

Moist stares into his cup of tea, where he can see the skim of the milk dancing from rim to rim. At the moment, that’s the only thing in the world that he’s certain is real - this tea, and himself, probably, but who knows? Maybe he did die. Maybe this is hell.

“Mr Lipwig? Would you like another cup of tea? You’ve had that one rather a long time.”

Uberwald, Moist thinks, dreamily. He doesn’t have many memories of his childhood there, because he erased them forcibly over the years, but he does remember the simplicity. Potato farming, his grandfather’s dogs, the cold cabbage suppers, riding the donkeys for miles and miles to the well. He could go back - he could seek his roots - he could burn the golden suit and dye his hair and kidnap his wife and his daughter and run -

“Drumknott, can you see to it that Mr Lipwig has a fresh cup? I think it would do him a world of good.”

His cup is gently eased out of his hands. It takes a while, because Moist is gripping ever so hard, but eventually another is pressed into his palm. It’s refreshingly hot.

“Moist,” says Vetinari, at last - and that gets his attention. Moist, up until this point, wasn’t sure Vetinari knew he had a first name, and he had been sure he would go to his grave without hearing it. It sounds oddly, terrifyingly informal coming from Vetinari.

“You can’t make me Patrician,” Moist croaks at last, and takes a sip of the scalding tea. “I’m a bastard. I’m not from the city - I’m from Uberwald, for godssakes, I’m a wanted man - I robbed people!”

Vetinari raises one slender black eyebrow, his fingertips steepled below his chin. “To rule a city as vast as Ankh-Morpork, you need to be a bastard. And you are as from Ankh-Morpork as anyone is - you may have been born in Uberwald, but you and I both know that the city made you who you are today. The wanted man you once were is dead. And robbery, Mr Lipwig? May I remind you, in case it slipped your mind, that I graduated from the Assassin’s Guild, where I believe the syllabus is a lot more… terminal than the crimes you may have theoretically committed. I believe that’s all your worries, yes?”

Moist tries to take another drink, and pours tea down himself. It puddles down his shirt.

(His grey shirt.)

(Moist would never wear the golden suit to meet Vetinari. After all, who would he be trying to fool? Vetinari, who told him the interesting facts about angels while the rope burn was still aching around Moist’s neck, or Moist himself, who knows every single regrettable fact about the body he’s inhabiting and the things that he’s managed to do? No. The golden suit would feel disrespectful, and cheap. When Moist meets the Patrician, he comes as himself and only himself, no frills required.)

“Rufus,” Vetinari says - and gods, Moist didn’t know Drumknott had a first name, either - “Could you fetch a damp cloth for Mr Lipwig, please?”

“Yes, my lord,” Drumknott’s voice says from near the door.

Moist eyes Vetinari with a hollow stare. “Don’t make me,” he says.

“I won’t make you, of course. If you don’t want to, the door is right there.”

Pit full of spikes, Moist’s brain helpfully supplies. “Pit full of spikes,” his mouth helpfully says, before downing the remainder of his cup of tea.

Astonishingly, it doesn’t make anything better.

Vetinari’s face does what would, on anyone else, be a smile. “No pit full of spikes,” he says. “Moist - do you know why I’ve made you this offer?”

“Because you’re a tyrant,” Moist offers. His brain takes a dive off a handy cliff, unless it’s already done that, which would explain quite a lot about how this conversation is turning out.

And again, there’s a tiny smile under a greying, groomed moustache. “I’ll tell you, if you want to know.”

What has Moist got to lose?

“Sure,” he says. “Sure, tell me.”

“Help me to the window.”

In years gone by, Vetinari would have stood on his own and walked as smooth and silent as a panther, and a part of that elegance remains. In years gone by, his black cane was for show, not for use - but now he leans on it, his knuckles white, and reaches out for the arm Moist extends, leaning on it with most of his weight. He is featherlight, but Moist doesn’t need to register this as a new fact, because helping Vetinari out of his seat has become commonplace in the last few years. It doesn’t diminish his presence at all, but it strikes Moist that he must be one of the very few people Vetinari does this to. The shuffle from desk to window is a short one, but in that time, Moist hears how quick Vetinari’s breath gets, how noticeably his hands shake when he leans on the sill. He isn’t out of his prime, not at all, and Moist has seen him walk for hours in public without showing a sign of weakness -

But then again. Vetinari must assume that Moist is someone there is no point fooling. Golden suits come in all shapes and sizes.

“Look out the window,” the Patrician commands, his voice betraying none of the frailty he’s displayed. “Look out the window and tell me what you see.”

Moist looks out the window.

The city in the morning is really a sight for the eyes of the conman, reformed or not. There’s Dibbler, selling his pies, and a few members of the Watch hanging around the corner with cigarettes clutched in their fists, and a dog taking a piss against the wall, and a bunch of tourists being politely robbed by a member of the Thieves Guild, and a few seamstresses hanging around the front of one of those new high-end goblin coffee houses. He sees a wizard in a funny hat (even by wizarding standards) having a hot debate with what appears to be a trunk full of luggage, although stranger things have happened. He sees a carriage belonging to a visiting dignitary from the Sto Plains, the horses merrily dirtying the streets the gnolls try so hard to keep clean. He sees the meeting of a thousand people every second, and the money that flows around and around like water in a bathtub, spinning around the plug but never falling.

“Opportunity,” he says slowly.

Vetinari hums. He sounds delighted. “Samuel always says he sees a dog relieving himself. The Archchancellor once said he saw his brother throwing a brick at the Temple of Offler. But you’re right, of course - Ankh-Morpork is one opportunity, waiting for someone to come along and make sure it keeps spinning.”

“So, because I looked out your window, you think I should be,” Moist swallows. He can’t say it.

Vetinari does that little smile again. “Yes,” he says. “And because, when I told Sam Vimes I was thinking of you, as my successor, do you know what he said?”

“I imagine he wasn’t very pleased,” Moist says weakly.

(The Vimes-Ramkin/von Lipwig-Dearheart dinners are a weekly event, because Moist and Sybil have become fast friends who think their children need to interact with more children of their own unique situation. Young Sam is a lot older than Letitia, who’s just turned two, but Letty adores him. Young Sam is learning card tricks, and when he pulls coins out of Letty’s ears her giggles are a blessing to any crooked man’s heart.)

(All the same, Moist always gets the feeling Sir Samuel himself disapproves of him. Moist and Sybil are friends, good friends, and Vimes and Adora Belle get on so well it makes Moist nervous. At their dinners, Vimes smokes a cigar and sometimes Moist catches him looking at him, like he’s measuring him for something Moist isn’t sure he’ll fit into.)

“I’ll tell you what the Commander said,” Vetinari says. He’s still leaning against the windowsill. “He said firstly that I was a damn fool for considering anyone, yet, and secondly that if I was going to persist with it, that I could have picked someone worse.”

“Oh,” says Moist.

He can argue with Vetinari, and he can argue with Adora Belle, and he can argue with Harry King and Groat and Sybil and Derek and Bent and Stanley and Gladys and - and anyone. Anyone.

But he can’t argue with the confidence the Patrician gives him, and the trust in the way he leans his weight on Moist’s arm.

And he can’t argue with the grunt and the smile Vimes gives him next time they cross paths. He can only accept what’s happening to him -

But hope that it doesn’t happen for a long while, yet.

#moist von lipwig #havelock vetinari #discworld #self #moist is the only person who could be patrician #and vimes is the only person who could agree #own fiction

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timelessshipperdaily · 6 years ago

Text

Timeless: The Miracle of Christmas (Reaction & Thoughts) Part 4

Wyatt I would have expected a little more hustle from you considering Lucy just screamed/cried out your name.

I think both Lucy and I just had their ovaries BURST!!!

THE RELIEF ON LUCY'S FACE.

OMG THANK GOD WYATT AND JIYA ARE OK!!!! BUT I'M STILL CRYING!!!

"What else don't I know about you?" - Lucy

Yup her ovaries DEFINITELY BURSTED!! If not before they have now.

GREAT NO TRANSPORTATION!!!!

"I'm trying to have a vision of a hot shower. Leave me alone." - Jiya

"I just really don't wanna die.. Again." - Rufus

Poor Rufus...

"But, you'd think that he/she would save the nun though, right?" - Rufus

I HAD TO PAUSE IT BECAUSE I AM LAUGHING SO HARD!!!!

Awwwww... so soft. PERFECT and PRECIOUS!!!!

WE ARE GONNA GET A LYATT MOMENT!!!!!

HE JUST SAID IT WAS UP TO FATE!!!!! AHHHHHHHHH... HE BELIEVES IN FATE!!!!

"After that explosion I thought you were dead." - Lucy

"I just kept thinking about... all this time that we had wasted. Just wasting so much time and..and then all of a sudden there you were. Holding a stranger's baby that you had delivered. And I knew..." Lucy

OMG IS SHE GONNA SAY THE WORDS!?!?!? [If so God help me!!!]

LUCY "FREAKING" PRESTON JUST SAID "I LOVE YOU, WYATT LOGAN"

SHE HAS LOVED HIM SINCE THE ALAMO!!!! WE ALL KNEW IT!!!!

SINCE THE KISS WITH BONNIE AND CLYDE!!!! SINCE THEIR NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD!!!!!

RIP MY HEART.....

THE KISS!!!!!! ITS SO SOFT AND LOVING!!!!!

Status update: I have went through half the box of chocolates AND I AM OUT OF TISSUES!!!!

OK NOW I'M CACKLING!!!! While Wyatt and Lucy are kissing they cut to a shot of Rufus and Jiya watching them.... and I CAN'T stop imagining them doing this!!!! Riya ships Lyatt!!!

ALSO.... THE BELL STARTED TOLLING WHILE THEY WERE KISSING!!! MARRIED!!! HAHAHA

LEAVE IT TO THE COMMUNISTS TO RUIN THE MOMENT!!!!

AHHHHHHHH!!!!! IT'S AGENT CHRISTOPHER SAVING THE DAY!!!!

Jesus would NOT give you a hug. THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE!!!

"I wanted to time travel at least once!" - Agent C

EVERYONE in the bunker has now time traveled!!!!

"What? No hug? What would Jesus do?" - Emma

CACKLING AGAIN!!!

"And you brought scrooge. Was it the ghost of Christmas past or future that got her here?" - Rufus

OKAY!!! BEST REFERENCE TO A CHRISTMAS MOVIE USED TO DELIVER A SEARING BURN!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!

The Brooch!!!

OMG!!!! DON'T YOU FREAKING DARE!!!

YES WYATT!!!

"Wait. Wait... I can bring Amy back." - Emma

LIES SHE LIES!!!!

EMMA SERIOUSLY!?!?!? That is NOT the way to go if you're trying to appeal to Lucy!!!!

This hurts!!! We and Lucy know she has to be lying but it hurts!!!!

"I don't." - Lucy

Anybody else getting a Harry Potter Vs. Voldemort vibe!?!?

YASSSS LUCY!!!!

Oh my- Oh my G-... OH MY GOD!!!

DID THE COMMUNIST KILL EMMA!?!?!? NO WAY!!!! IT CANNOT BE THAT EASY!!!!!

I am SHOOK!!!!!

OKAY!!! Coming into this movie. I had a list of things I wanted to see.... in the list I wanted to see. In the Lyatt section I had

Wyatt buckles Lucy's seatbelt

Wyatt calls Lucy "ma'am"

Lyatt holding hands

Lucy to say "I Love You" back

Lyatt kiss or kisses

Lyatt to be left with the idea of a life together.

ALL of my wants have been seen!!!! AHHHHHHHH BLESS THE WRITERS!!!!!

EVERYONE'S HOME!!!!!

Mason's face warms my heart!!!!

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renee-writer · 6 years ago

Text

From Highlander to Gladiator Chapter 26 Message Received

Claire

Tianna and I head straight to the master's chamber to tell him of the birth of his son. I was a bit nervous and hold tightly to Tianna's hand as we approach. How will he take the news? It is a tad unexpected.

We enter and, with Tianna translating, I explain that his wife has been safely delivered of a son she was unaware that she was carrying. He was understandably shocked. He asks many questions about the health of both his wife and the newborn. I am happy to be able to tell him all is well. He asks to see them and I explain that they both sleep but, I will back to check on them soon and will let him know when they are awake. He thanks me and, with immense joy, dismisses us.

"Well, that went very well." I comment to Tianna as we leave heading to the dining hall to prepare for the banquet.

"Yes. She delivered a healthy son. If she hadn't.."

"True. We are all blessed." The rest of the day until nightfall, we set up those things needed for the banquet. I find time to check on the new mum and new baby as well as his big brother. I also make sure all my herbs and medicines are ready. At one point, I catch Tianna shuddering beside me. I ask what is wrong. She inclines her head to a group of man getting progressively drunker.

"Keep a close eye on them. I have a strong feeling your healing gift will be needed."

"I will need you too."

"I will be here."

As the sun sets, and the master gets more and more into his cups, his bragging on me, gets louder and louder.

"A gift from the gods, she is. Saved my firstborn. And today, ahh today, she and my wife gifted me with another son." Cheers go up at this. I smile and look around for Tianna. I find her talking to one of the gladiator's. I smile again thinking she is someone she is acquainted with.

She comes up after and says that the same guy wants to have a word with me. But before I can approach him, there is a commotion. One of the men that had been drinking for hours, pulls out a small knife and, without hesitation or warning, stabs the stomach of the man he had been arguing with. Two of the other men grap him and haul him away. I run towards his victim. Tianna looks at me and then runs off to get the supplies she knows I will need. I lift up his tunic and am relieved to see that, though the wound is deep and long, it isn't anywhere near any vital organs. I can repair it.

I start by having the man drink a cup of wine mixed with quite a bit of laundum. I need him out. He is a big man and it takes awhile. When he starts to sway, I call on several men, including the one that Tianna says wishes to talk to me, to lower him down.

"Hold him down," I instruct," he may wake before I am done." They do and I get to work. I first pour quite a bit of the wine, mixed with some cider apple vinager, deep into the wound. Both being natural antibiotics, I pray they can help prevent infection. He groans and bucks some. "Hold him tight!" They do pressing him down. I am soon sewing. First pulling the deeper layers of skin together. Then the upper layer. I am lost in what I am doing. Time senses to have meaning. The people around me fade. It is just me, the patch of gapping skin, and my needle. Once again, I am Alba. After, I coat it with a thick amount of honey. I wrap the wound in fresh linen and instruct the men to carry him to an avaliable pallet to rest. That I will be in to check on him later.

I look up to see a ton of people watching. I hear the master say,' Didnt I tell you.'to someone. I pay him no heed realizing that my hands and dress are covered in blood. Tianna and I slip away to change.

When we return, the man who Tianna had talked to, was waiting.

"You wished to talk to me?"

"Yes. I've a message for you. From Rufus." At my blank look he seems to recall something. He shakes his head. "My pardon ma'am. You know him as Jamie."

"Jamie! My Jamie."

"Yes ma'am. Your husband."

"He is well?"

"Yes, he is anxious for you. Misses you terribly. Is trying to find away to you. He wanted me to tell you to be careful, that he misses you and loves you."

"Oh," I throw my arms around the stranger. "Oh. Thank you. Tell him that I miss and love him too. Terribly. And he is also to stay safe."

"I will."

"What is your name?"

"Pollux."

"Pollux, thank you. Thank you. Are you helping to keep him safe?"

"I am sure trying." I laugh and hug him again.

#my writing #jamie and claire #outlander fanfic #cannon divergence #the gladiator one #from highlander to gladiator #message recieved #showing Alba

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qqueenofhades · 7 years ago

Note

I'm somehow obsessed with the idea of a follow-up for that 'never have i ever' ask I sent you where garcyatt are already together on the down low and the gang is all drunk again (because listen, there's really only so much you can do in that bunker) and Jiya just leans over to Rufus, three shots in and already giggling, and whispers in a voice that's anything but a whisper 'hey remember th' last time we did this, when Lucy had a sex dream 'bout Flynn?'

And Rufus is flailing and trying to shush her; ‘hahaa yeah no, that didn’t-’ [glances at Flynn with a wide, unconvincing smile] 'that didn’t happen’, and Wyatt’s smirking it up in the background, and Lucy’s got her eyes closed as tight as possible because maybe when she opens them she’ll somehow have gained the ability to time jump herself back to 5 minutes before this happened.

And Flynn (absolute grumpy asshole cat roommate that he is) just raises one eyebrow like: 'Well, it’s not that surprising really. Lucy and I have been having sex for the past two weeks’. And for a moment it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop across the bunker, then Wyatt bursts out laughing. At least he does before Flynn’s lips quirk up in a smirk of his own and he adds “I don’t know why you’re acting like you weren’t an enthusiastic participant yourself, Logan’.

OMG YES. ABSOLUTELY. YES ABSOLUTELY WANT/NEED 200%.

(I can’t write this up as a proper fic just now because it’s been a long day and I don’t have enough brain power but God Bless You.)

Because lbr there has been enough Romantic Drama (especially around the boys; Wyatt storming out because he cannot handle how good Flynn looks and at least 50% of his pissy fits are because of his Bisexual Crisis, Flynn being the UDTB that he is gives Wyatt Super Non Het looks to help out, for details see this scientific and informative post. Also @extasiswings is writing a fic about this for reasons). So finally Lucy and Wyatt and Flynn are just like, fuck it let’s fuck, but only on our off hours because Rittenhouse is still a thing and there’s nothing else to do in this bunker (which Flynn bemoans endlessly until he ~discovers it’s not so bad).

How does this happen the first time? Probably Spectacularly Garbagely. We don’t want to know. Anyway.

And yes it’s some various combination of them (two of them together or three of them together and they think they are being discreet but. Babies. This is not a large bunker and your roommates are well informed of you pervin’ up the place. Also Flynn swore really loudly in Croatian once, though that may have been deliberate because he’s an asshole, so yes.)

Wyatt and Lucy are super romantic and sweet when they are together. Lucy and Flynn are Hot Af and slightly kinky (at which Lucy is in charge because Let Us Be Fucking Real). Flynn and Wyatt are… yeah probably stay out of the way of that. The three of them together can be anything goes.

Denise, Mason, Rufus, and Jiya exist in a constant low-level horror that the other three people helping them save the known world are boinking each other in all number of combinations. Which, you know, good for them but Can We Focus Please. One time Jiya wakes up with Lucy sneaking back in late from the boys’ room looking super well-fucked and just gives her a look like “have a good night?” and Rufus obviously has just decided that literally no good can come from saying anything, he has gone blind deaf and dumb, omg white people.

Ahem.

#garcyatt #garcyatt ff #the ot3 we deserve #lucys-preston #ask

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just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms · 8 years ago

Text

Super Minds

Title: Super Minds

Supernatural and Criminal Minds Crossover!

Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Jody, Charlie, Bobby, and Rufus

Criminal Minds Characters: Hotch, JJ, Morgan, Reid, Rossi, Prentis, and Garcia

Word Count: 2,420

Warnings: None

A/N: So, since this crossover is basically AU, I brought back some characters that I love and miss. I really hope you guys like this! PLEASE leave feedback!! Enjoy!

“Everyone here?” Garcia did a quick headcount before beginning. “Alright my courageous crime fighters. You are headed to South Dakota. Y/F/N Y/L/N was reported missing this morning when she didn’t show up for work. Why are we looking into this you ask? Y/N is the seventh person in the past four months to go missing and then have all of their internet data start disappearing.”

“Disappearing? Baby girl you’ve told us too many times that it never disappears.”

“Right you are my lovely. It’s not gone, gone, but for right now…it’s gone. I’m working on it as fast as my talented fingers can go.”

“Local authorities have called us in. Be advised though that it was the deputy sheriff, not the sheriff that called us. Expect possible tension when we arrive. Wheels up in thirty.”

As everyone got up from their chairs Emily tapped JJ on the arm. “What do we even wear to South Dakota?”

“My guess? Flannels.”

“Actually right now it’s unseasonably warm in Sou-“ The girls laughter cut off Spencer’s thought. “What? I like to be prepared!”

“Oh, we know.” Rossi winked at the girls before grabbing his go-bag.

“Oh good, you’re here!” The deputy sheriff came out to meet Hotch and Garcia. “We need all the help we can get with this one. Abductions aren’t too common and all this techno babble is just making it worse.”

“Thank you for inviting us. This is our technical analyst Garcia, she will help with all the technology information while the rest of my team looks for Y/N. I would love to meet the sheriff if they are here.”

“Sheriff Mills isn’t in yet. Should be here soon though I think.”

The officer lead them into a conference room and Garcia started setting up while Hotch checked in with the team. JJ, Morgan, and Spencer didn’t find anything remarkable at Y/N’s home. Nothing was disturbed, no forced entry, and it appeared like bags had been taken with clothes and toiletries.

“Hotch, this looks more like she went on a trip than anything else. Are we sure it was an abduction?”

“Yes, she didn’t come into work today. Garcia is still determining that the data wiping is by the same UNSUB as well. We’ll see you back at the station.”

“The parents know nothing.” Emily announced as she and Rossi came into the conference room. “No calls, texts, or emails. Find anything else Garcia?”

“No. I can’t figure out how they are running their system. The normal hacking methods I use just are not working. The UNSUB is good but this is whoooole other level good. This might not be the same guy.”

“Aww, you cute little noob.” Charlie smiled as she watched whoever was following her erasing of data struggle to figure out how she was doing it. Hacking into the Bunker’s archaic system had turned out to be an incredibly good decision.

“How’s it going in here? I got coffee.”

“Ugh, Sam you’re a god among men! It’s going, but I can’t stop now that I started. Someone’s trying to follow my pathways but the Bunker’s system is protecting me.”

“Looks like the Men of Letters really knew what they were doing.”

“Rufus!”

“Bobby!”

Sam and Charlie just laughed. Those two were always getting turned around in the Bunker. They of course blamed all the white walls and identical hallways.

“Hey guys, who needs lunch?” Jody poked her head in and smiled when both Sam and Charlie raised their hands. “Be ready in twenty.”

“Thanks Jody!” they called after her.

Jody got to the kitchen just in time to catch Dean grabbing food for you. “Hey, I’m just about to start lunch.”

“Oh, well, Y/N missed breakfast. Didn’t want her to starve. She’s been through a lot.”

“I know. How do you think she’s doing?”

Dean shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. How do you think you’d feel if you were about to disappear from the map?”

“No, I know. She doesn’t really have a choice though. Either we wipe her, or she sits in prison for those murders. We know it was a Shapeshifter. To everyone else, it just looks like she massacred the neighbors next door. She’s a hunter, not a mass murderer.”

Dean nodded and gave Jody a small smile before heading back to your room.

“All right, from what I can tell either this guy seriously stepped up his game, or this is a different person.”

“What? Could they have gotten that good, that fast?”

“Oh, JJ, there is no way. This has to be someone different. Why would you hold out on the good stuff till victim seven?”

“She makes a good point,” Emily nodded. “Why wait until we have seven missing and erased people to bring out the big guns.”

“Garcia, could they have been waiting for an upgrade in their processing system?”

Garcia’s eyes flew off her screen to Spencer’s. “Oh! That’s it! They didn’t upgrade, they downgraded!”

“Why would anyone in this day and age downgrade? I’m no fan of technology, but even I know you don’t downgrade,” Rossi laughed.

Morgan studied Garcia’s face for a minute or two. “I know that look. I’ll go get the hard stuff.”

“Bless you my chocolate espresso seeking man.”

“Uh guys!”

Bobby and Rufus played Marco Polo with Charlie instead of following Jody, Sam, and Dean to Charlie’s work room.

“What’s wrong?” Dean knew that waiver in her voice.

“Well, I don’t know how, but um…”

“It’s okay, just tell us what’s up.” Sam put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I think whoever was chasing me…I think they found me.”

“So, what do we do now?” Everyone turned to you standing in the doorway.

“We fix this.” Bobby announced. “We do what we have to. You aren’t going away for those murders.”

Jody came over and pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

“Damn right we will. Now, Red, fill us in here.” Charlie looked to Rufus thinking he was joking but quickly realized he wasn’t.”

“Well, um, my tablet is-“

“Tablet? I thought you said it was a computer?”

Dean tried to stifle a laugh at Charlie’s eyes going wide.

“Well,” Charlie tried to think of where to start. “Let’s, uh, see this room is actually a-“

Jody lead you out of the room as Charlie started teaching the old guys. It had been an insane past 24 hours, but Jody and the boys were making it a lot easier.

“Charlie will figure this out. She’s good.”

“I know,” you nodded, giving her a small smile. “I trust her.”

“KANSAS!” Rossi jumped and spilt some of his coffee with Garcia’s announcement.

“Are we naming states?” Emily questioned as Morgan and JJ laughed.

“It’s all coming from Kansas! That’s where we need to go. This new UNSUB, or upgraded UNSUB, whatever, they are in Kansas. Lebanon to be specific.”

Hotch grabbed his phone. “I’ll call the pilot. Rossi, has anyone heard from Sheriff Mills yet?”

“What is this place?” Derek took off his sunglasses, sizing up the building.

“It looks like some sort of industrial building.”

“Emily, Spencer, you stay back with Garcia. Bring her in as soon as we give the all clear.” Hotch turned towards the door. “The rest of us, let’s move. Morgan, lead.”

Just as they approached the door Morgan started to shake his head. “Hotch, this is steel or something. I can’t kick this.”

“The powerful Morgan legs can’t kick through anything?” Rossi sassed.

“Wait,” Spencer whispered. “Someone’s there.”

“Did you hear something?” Bobby turned, angling his head towards the door.

“I don’t know, did you put your hearing aids in today?”

“Rufus, you gotta get a colonoscopy to get that cactus out of your ass.”

Turning the handle, Bobby pulls open the door, coming face to face with the BAU.

“Freeze! On your knees! Get down!”

Bobby and Rufus gave each other a side eye glance before slowly moving to their knees.

“Where’s the rest of you?” JJ questioned as she moved to cuff Rufus.

“Woah, little forward there lady. At least offer me a shot first.”

“Oh I’ll give you a shot if you don’t cooperate.”

“Let us call them out.” Bobby looked up to Hotch. “This place is a maze. Let us bring them out. Don’t need a problem with the Feds.”

“Should of thought of that before you kidnapped all those women.” Both of their attentions shot to Rossi.

“Did what?”

“We didn’t kidnap anyone?”

“Then who’s life are you erasing?” Rufus and Bobby slowly nodded before Rufus turned back to Spencer.

“Oh, that. Well, string bean, we didn’t kidnap anyone. We have her in our own version of protective custody.”

“Protective custody?” JJ looked to Hotch for direction.

“Call them out.” Hotch nodded to Morgan who slowly started making his way down the steps.

“Dean! Sam! Charlie! Y/N! Jody! Come on out here. Slow! The Feds are here.”

“No guns!” Rufus added. “Don’t need the kid getting trigger happy.”

Slowly but surely everyone came into the library, hands out in front of them. Once they had all been searched, Hotch called for the rest of the team to come down. With everyone sitting around the map table, and Y/N’s wellbeing was established, it was time to explain. Sam grabbed the lore books as Dean tried to figure out where to start.

“To start, monsters, they are all real. I’m not talking about the monsters you hunt. I’m talking about the ones that hunt us, the ones that hide under the bed and in the woods. We hunt them, and study them, it’s our job, and it’s our life.”

When Dean paused, Jody jumped in. “A Shapeshifter, that’s what caused all this. This Shapeshifter turned into Y/N, and massacred the family next door to her. Y/N is a hunter, like us. The family was supposed to be leaving for a trip when it got them. No one, as far as we can tell, has started looking for them yet. We grabbed Y/N, tried to destroy as much trace evidence as possible that she was there, and now we’re wiping her. It’s easier to be a hunter and invisible.”

Sam found the page he needed and took over. “Shapeshifters can take on the form of anything living, dead, fictional, you name it.”

Spencer grabbed the book Sam held out to him and started reading. Dean, Rufus, and Bobby were all fixated on Spencer as he quickly flipped the pages. When Emily caught on she laughed and nudged JJ.

“You get used to it. Kind of.”

Sam smiled and continued. “They hunger for human flesh. Silver is the only way to kill them. And their eyes flare on camera, it’s the quickest way to identify them.”

Bobby fumbled with his phone before pulling up the video you sent him. The team leaned around it, all of their expressions changing as they saw the flash of the eyes.

“I have a motion censored light on my property with a camera. It flashed on several times that night and it kept waking me up. I pulled up the feed in the app on my phone, saw myself leaving my house and the eyes fluoresced. I grabbed my blade and called Jody before I headed over. When she got there I was pretty bruised up and the Shifter was dead. Unfortunately, though, so were my neighbors.”

Everyone went silent after you finished speaking. Dean gave your hand a squeeze and Sam rubbed your shoulder. Morgan slowly turned his head to Spencer.

“So, Spence, you buyin’ this?”

“I need to do more reading.” Sam’s face lit up and he got out of his chair.

“I’ll show you were to start.”

“Why are you guys here though?” Jody looked to the rest of her team. “Why did Y/N even come up on your radar?”

“We’ve been investigating a string of abductions. Young women around Y/N’s age have been disappearing and then all of their online activity has been disappearing.”

Garcia looked to Emily and once she got a nod, spoke up. “Can someone tell me who was erasing everything? Because that system is incredible. Horrible, but incredible.”

Charlie blushed and slowly raised her hand. “That would be me. It’s pretty flippin’ sweet the setup they have here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

As the girls headed towards Charlie’s office, Morgan and Rossi started to look around. Bobby and Rufus headed over towards Hotch.

“So, you run all this?”

“Yes, I am the unit chief.”

“And you catch psycho’s? Like CSI?”

“Something like that. Looks like you guys catch monter’s. Like X-Files.” The gentlemen laughed.

“I wish it was like X-files.”

Dean came over to Rossi and Morgan as they looked at some of the artifacts in the library. “See anything interesting?”

“This is a little more Spencer’s style than ours.”

Dean looked over to Sam and Spencer, laughing to himself. “Yeah it’s a little more Sam’s than mine too. The garage, that’s more my space.”

This piqued Rossi’s attention. “What kind of cars are we talking?”

“Which one’s aren’t we? Come on.” Dean waved for the guys to follow him.

“Ah the boys club,” Jody laughed, motioning for JJ and Emily to follow her into the kitchen. “How about some coffee and pie? We always have it on hand.”

“That sounds great, thanks!”

“So are you guys always hunting?”

Jody laughed as she grabbed mugs. “The boys? Pretty much. I’m the Sheriff in Sioux Falls, but you already know that. I just hunt when a case finds me. Charlie, she’s more into the research stuff. She spent some time doing hard work in Oz though.”

When Emily and JJ tried to process it, Jody slowly nodded her head. “Yes, I do mean click your heels three times, not in Kansas anymore, Oz.”

Emily took a few steps and dropped her voice as if someone would hear her. “Are the shoes…real?”

“Grab your mugs and let’s go find out!”

Nearly two hours passed before the girls were calling everyone in to Charlie, and now Garcia’s, work space.

“Sir, we have a problem.”

“What is it Garcia?”

“Another girl disappeared about three hours ago from rural Tennessee.”

When the BAU team’s postures changed, Dean laughed out loud. “You guys look like we do when we find out something else has gone wrong.”

JJ nodded her head slowly, “the monsters never stop.”

“For any of us,” Bobby added.

“Andiamo.”

Let me know what you think!

@benjerry707 @riversong-sam @mizzamericnpie @uttertrash–butlikecutetrash @little-castiel13 @jkqueenly @tankcupcakes @casownsmyass @sea040561 @xcastawayherosx @cenagirlsrda @quixoticcat @alwayskawaiidream @calling-astronauts

@freefood45 @emoryhemsworth @humanandangel @jalove-wecallhimdean @imnoaingeal @xxmianicpixiexx @lynnebla @chelsea072498 @impalaimagining @docharleythegeekqueen @mariairwin666 @cyrilconnelly @sandlee44 @maddieburcham1 @percussiongirl2017 @fandommaniacx @raylin19 @moonstonemystyk @halloween-scream @destiellives123-blog @tmccarney @ellen-reincarnated1967 @lizmalfoywayland @sweetzunscripted @riddikulus-obsessions @small-town-wayward-daughter @love-kittykat21 @skybinx-blog @atc74 @27bmm @uttertrash–butlikecutetrash @imreallyfredweasley @super100012 @goody2shoessmut @aquabrie @gallifreyansass @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @fanboyswhereare-you @chaos-and-the-calm67 @paintrider13-blog @doro7winchester @spontaneousam @beatlesobsessionlove @ohmychuckitssamanddean @cameronbraswell @padackles2010 @melonberri @ayyyitsthatweirdchick16 @letsdisneythings @sis

-tafics @little-castiel13 @devilgirlsarah @mogaruke @mspseudonymwho @riversong-sam

@wordstothewisereaders @attractiverandomness @phan-band-fandoms @captainradicalpassion @jayankles @justacaliforniandreamer @iloveyoulikebuckylovesplums @idji-bitchy-assbutt-jerk @applepie-and-angelwings @jinksy-ride-with-your-ass @barbedwireandbubblegum @emilypkuzu @jotink78 @bloodredrose12 @jensen-gal @whyhello-there @inmysparetime0 @midnightmora @foxboot @leather-moccasin-hero @ashleydivine @yunuenlovesg @sydneymarie101195 @elliewinchesterr @lost-in-the-stories @fangirl1802 @latenightsandlongnaps @pretty-fortune @dorky-and-i-know-it @theoriginalvicki @sii88 @narriy @donnaintx @demondeansdomme @milkymilky-cocopuff @michellespnlvr37 @aiaranradnay

#supernatural #criminal minds #supernatural crossover #criminal minds crossover #team free will #the bau

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fglmposts-blog · 7 years ago

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THE BIRTH OF A PROPHET

On the 11th of April 1960. A Prophet was born in the nation-Nigeria into the family of Mr and Mrs Rufus Akuchie in the Village of Amaku-Orodo Mbaitolu L.G.A in Imo State. He came as a premature baby almost liveless, and this prompted the mother to rush out to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital now Federal Medical Center Umuahia naked ignoring the on lookers and looking unto God, she cried out with a loud voice, Promising God that if He restores life back unto her son, that She will give him back to God to serve him, in His Vineyard ( As Hannah did in the bible at Shiloh ) She promised that He will do no other thing but to serve God and to be a pastor, and God heard her. The baby which had already been thrown, into the waste or dustbin as directed by the doctor ( Rev.Father Hughes ) who delivered it and also forgotten, began to show changes in color and from the head downwards. Right there at the dustbin, God restored life back unto the baby Fortunately a nurse came out to dispose of waste and noticed in the color of the baby. Behold, the baby was already changing color from the forehead down his face. She notified the doctor who requested for the baby to be picked up. They took the baby, cleaned him up and put some clothes on him. He responded to the attempt to feed him and was immediately put in an incubator. The Reverend father took him home and placed him in an incubator, under his strict supervision and care. THE EDUCATION OF A PROPHET After seven months, the aged reverend father who was 70yrs was found dead in a kneeling position praying over the Child, He had dropped a note saying who the parents of the Child were and asking them to train him in the way of the Lord. His Childhood was spent in the Seminary Schools and with Reverend Fathers for about 11yrs, before he was withdrawn by his Parents and sent to a regular secondary School. He went to the University and came out with good grades and started life as a young man. THE CAREER OF A PROPHET He worked for some time and went into business deviating from the original plan of God for him ( He went through alot of ups and downs ) He engaged himself in different businesses. He once executed a business contract in Jigawa state for the SSS, and on the verge of commissioning, he had a dream and was told by a voice emanating from a cloud of smoke to come and answer the call to serve God. The buildings to be commissioned, suddenly had cracks which caused him to sell all his landed properties and belongings to settle debts from banks THE CALL OF A PROPHET All these went on for a long time and he remained adamant, but God kept drawing him to Himself, calling him to come and answer the call, while he kept running away from it. Until one faithful day, He was in his warehouse where his goods where being offloaded, He slept off and went into a trans and God told him, it was time for him to rise on his feet, to forget father, mother, brothers, sisters, relations and serve him in truth and in spirit. But taking this decision was not easy; He was rebuked and restricted by his people, they all thought he was going mad. Considering he had good business going, they called for a meeting to deliberate on the issue, to dissuade him, but he stood his ground. When he insisted, God took control and he started the ministry in his brother's house with for people. It blossomed from there on till this stage. God has been doing a lot of miracles in his ministry. God has healed people with HIV/AIDS and diverse diseases through him, evil yolks have been broken, people have received diverse blessings, visas granted to a lot of people, people have been delivered from different courses, with problems solved instantly and lots more. The G.O of Fire of Glory Liberation Ministry ( former Jesus Deliverance & Prayer Ministry International ) Bishop/Prophet Vitalis Akuchie-Daniels PhD is an ambassador worthy of emulation. Totally sold out to God, lead by the Holy Spirit.Happily Married with children.

We welcome you to the ministry being anchored by an ambassador worthy of emulation, totally called to the service of the Almighty God. Bringing to you deliverance with master's touch. WELCOME TO FIRE OF GLORY LIBERATION MINISTRY.

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supernatural-schism · 8 years ago

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Episode 3: Thêatre Des Vampires

Click here for content warnings

Four of hearts, five of diamonds, seven of hearts, jack of spades, two of hearts. They were cards that had seen a lot of gritty, sweaty hands, a lot of beer spills and peanut salt. The red of the hearts and diamonds had faded to a dried-blood brown, barely distinguishable from the black. Dean stared at the battered, yellowed cards on Bobby’s coffee table like his life depended on it, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t need to look at his own cards again. Four of spades and two of clubs. Two pair. Not a bad hand.

Staring placidly at absolutely nothing, haloed by afternoon light slanting through the window behind him, Sam sat on threadbare the couch on the other side of the table. Half of his substantial bounty of plastic chips was in the pot. Whatever Sam had, or was pretending to have, it was a little more than not bad. Nearly sweating, Dean flicked his gaze between the cards and Sam’s face, searching for a tick, a tell. Anything to let him know if Sam was bluffing, or if he really did have a flush or a straight.

Mostly, Sam looked bored.

“What in blazes are you doing?”

Dean nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of Bobby’s voice. He looked up from the game.

“Texas hold ‘em, what’s it look like?”

Bobby approached the game, staring at the cards in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be. How’d you rope captain coma into that? I can’t even get him to fill his damn pits in.”

Dean grunted, turning back to the cards on the table. “Two good hours of mind-numbing debate. Told him I’ll help him dig if he wins.”

“It took two hours for him to agree to that?”

Sam blinked, and Dean scoffed. “The guy can connect point A to point B without trouble, but once C and D and E get involved, he goes back to digging his pits.” Dean’s fingers drummed against his arm. “What took two hours was convincing him that if he stopped digging now, he might be able to dig faster later.”

Bobby nodded, watching the game. After a few moments of silence, he asked, “So how are you losing?”

Dean slammed his hand down on the table. “Have you seen this asshole? He’s got the poker face of a brick wall!”

“Uh huh. And what’s the bet if you win?” Bobby’s eyebrows rose as he looked at Dean’s pile of chips. “Not that there’s much danger of that.”

“Shut up. If I win, he... plays another game.”

Bobby nodded. “ ... So you can lose that one instead?”

Dean snarled and tossed three of his chips into the pot. “Fine! Call! I fucking call your raise!”

Sam was still staring at the far wall. Dean waved his hands.

“Move! Go! Your turn! Show your damn hand!”

Sam looked at Dean, then at the pot. “Raise,” he said tonelessly, tossing five more scratched-up chips into the pot.

“Damn it!” Dean thumped his fist onto the table again. “No! I’m not busting out over your goddamn flush!” Dean shoved his cards forward. “Fold!”

Sam stared at Dean’s hand for a moment, then scooped the heaping pile of chips in the pot, dragging it towards him. Dean drummed his fingers tensely against the table.

“Well?” he snapped. “What’d you have?”

Sam lifted his eyes slowly, looking half-asleep. “I don’t have to tell.”

Dean snarled in exasperation and rubbed his hand roughly over his face.

“Well, god bless, I see Sam’s knowledge of poker rules remains intact,” Bobby mused. He squinted as Dean gathered up the cards. “Don’t deal again. We need to talk.”

“We definitely don’t need to talk,” Dean grunted, expertly splitting and shuffling the worn deck.

“Dean.”

“Bobby.” Dean choked out a weary laugh. “I spent two hours convincing him to do stop digging holes and play poker. Let me have this?”

“You need to get out of the house, Dean. Ain’t good for you to stay here.”

Dean’s shuffling slowed, his eyes sliding out of focus. “ ... Nowhere else for me to be.”

“Sure there is.” Bobby gave Dean a firm clap on the shoulder that made him sway. “Rufus has a job in Chicago. Lots of missing people.”

Dean grunted. “Isn’t that just Chicago being Chicago?”

“Rufus thinks it’s vamps. And you’re going with him. I’ve already got one vegetable in the house, I don’t need two.”

Dean’s face hardened. He twisted his shoulder away from Bobby’s hand. “Even if I was going to start hunting again, which I’m not, the last thing I’d want to hunt is -- ” Dean turned back to the deck and started shuffling, agitated and quick. “ ... Not vamps, Bobby. I’m not messing with vamps again.”

“Like hell. You go willingly, or I’ll have Rufus tranq you and throw you in the back of his car.”

“Bobby -- ” Dean rubbed a hand over his face, gritting his teeth. “Please. I promised Sam I’d stop hunting.”

Bobby glanced at Sam, who was giving the wood grain of the floor a deeply troubled look. “Yeah... I got a suspicion that he don’t care.”

“No, I mean... before. Before the swan dive.” Dean limply dealt another round. The old cards slid across Bobby’s scuffed coffee table. “Before Sam said yes to Lucifer, I promised I’d give up the life. It was his dying wish, Bobby, I can’t.”

Bobby watched as Dean picked up his hand. Sam stared at his own cards blankly for a moment before following suit. Bobby sighed.

“Well... at least you’re admitting he’s gone.”

Dean winced. Without looking, he tossed his ante into the pot, and Sam did the same. He yelped when Bobby smacked the back of his head.

“Then don’t be so damn dense, boy!” Bobby snapped. “Why exactly do you think Sam wanted you giving up hunting? It was to make you happy!” Bobby growled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “God knows, you’ve damn near gotta be forced!”

Dean rubbed the back of his head, glaring at Bobby. “Ow.”

Bobby shoved one gruff finger in Dean’s face. “You listen here, kid: I’ve known Sam near as long as you, and I know that this right here -- ” Bobby gestured at the poker game. “ -- is not what he wanted for you. Sam wanted you to have a life, a family and a god damn normal job, so you’d move on from his death. And you’re sitting here playing poker with his corpse.”

Dean stared at Bobby. His gaze dropped down to the stained cards in his hand, the chips in the pot, and finally shifted up to Sam’s vacant eyes. Dean blinked as if seeing him for the first time.

Bobby gave Dean another clap on the shoulder. “Pack up this evening, take whatever supplies you need. Rufus is swinging by in the morning, and you’re leaving with him.”

----

Rufus’s car rolled up Bobby’s dusty driveway at the wee hour of eleven forty-three in the morning. It grumbled across the gravel, grumbled to a halt, and then Rufus grumbled his way out of the car and grumbled up to the porch where Dean and Bobby were waiting. Bobby had a whiskey bottle dangling from his hand, but hadn’t touched it all morning. Dean was favoring coffee.

“This thing goes deep, Bobby!” Rufus declared by way of greeting, stomping up the creaky porch stairs. He snatched the whiskey bottle out of Bobby’s hand, unscrewing the cap. “Chicago’s an ant nest; the more I dig, the more I find, and the nastier it gets!”

Bobby gestured at the whiskey bottle as Rufus took a long, deep draw on it. “You’re welcome.”

Rufus lowered the bottle and gave it back to Bobby, letting out a relieved sigh. “So,” he began as if speaking to them for the first time, “I hear you’re tagging along, Dean?”

Dean grunted and took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, seems that way.”

“Great. Good. This case is gonna need all the muscle it can get.” He gave Dean a dismissive wave. “Even if that muscle is coming from your dumb ass.”

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Great to see you too.”

----

Rufus was insistent on bringing his truck. He wanted to know if they were driving together, and if he’d “have to put up with Dean’s face for the entire ride.” The company was tempting, even if the company was slightly bonkers, but Dean knew that if he was going to get back into hunting, he had to do it right.

He felt a little guilty about the thrill that went through him seeing Baby’s shiny trunk all loaded up with hunting supplies again. He couldn’t keep a smile off his face when he climbed in the driver’s seat and twisted the key in, pulling a hungry growl from her engine.

“Going hunting again, girl,” he murmured, giving her a little more gas than necessary as he pulled out of Bobby’s lot ahead of Rufus.

----

It was raining outside the Sleeping Beauty café, water pouring off the red awning in sheets. It was a cold rain, a relentless rain, promising the kind of chill that soaked into the bones and would not be banished. The sun had risen a scant hour ago, but not a trace of it was visible through the thick, dark clouds, leaving the Chicago streets dark and dreary.

Even though a dull neon sign in the Sleeping Beauty café’s window proclaimed “OPEN,” two people huddled just under the awning, making no move to go inside and get warm.

“If Jack doesn’t bring someone out out in the next twenty minutes, I’m bailing,” the taller one snapped. Her dark, sodden hair hung in wet ropes around her pale face. “I’m a vampire, not a fish.”

Her soggy companion hissed, looking over his shoulder nervously. “Keep your voice down!”

“Why? No one’s gonna believe it.” The taller vampire grinned. “Or if someone does, it’ll be because they want me to take them out back and give ‘em a nip. Hm?”

“You’re gonna get us killed. You don’t know if any of these people are hunters.”

The vampire grumbled, but fell silent. The wind roared, rain poured down, and the early morning commuters whooshed by on the wet roads, windshield wipers pumping, sending up cold mist behind them.

“Twenty minutes,” the taller vampire muttered, sullenly watching rain water drip from her hair. “Jack has twenty more minutes to seduce the scarf off of some human and bring them out. Then I’m bailing.”

“We’ll wait as long as we have to,” the other vampire growled. Unlike his partner, he had a hood pulled up to keep off the worst of the rain that was blown under the awning by the wind. “No one’s gonna want to come out in this weather, it may take Jack some time.”

“I don’t want to be out in this weather.” The taller vampire shifted her feet on the wet cement. “I’d rather be somewhere nice and dry with a tasty, warm body to -- ”

“Shut up.”

The vampire fell silent, turning her pale face towards the street. Two men were running down the sidewalk through the pounding rain, and as the vampire watched, they came to a stop under the awning outside the cafe. The older one wiped rain off his forehead and mustache, giving the sign on the door a suspicious look.

“Sleepin’ Beauty?” he read out loud. “This place got coffee at least?”

“It’d better,” the younger one grunted, pulling his sodden leather jacket tighter around himself. He glanced at the two vampires for a moment, his breath short from running. His hair was plastered against his head with water, droplets running down his face. The taller vampire grinned at him brightly.

“It’s got coffee,” she assured him.

The man gave her a crooked smile. “Awesome. Thanks.”

“I don’t care if it’s called Pretty Pony Teatime,” the older man grunted, wrenching the door open. “Let’s get the fuck inside.”

After a moment, the younger man followed, and the door swung shut behind them with a friendly chime.

The vampire nudged her partner, watching the men find a seat through the glass of the window. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her partner wasn’t looking, but he was smiling. “Mm-hm. I think the Boss is gonna love him.”

----

At least it was warm inside the Sleeping Beauty café, Dean thought. Even if the decor looked a little...

“What would you call this?” Dean grunted, gesturing with his cup of coffee at the low lighting and the red upholstery. “Porno-chic?”

“I’d call it warm and dry,” Rufus replied. His coffee was already half-gone.

Dean glared at their surroundings, hunkering over his mug. Everything was either red, black, or pink. Dean was no interior designer, but even he could tell that this is what the word “clashing” had been created for.

Rufus was hands-down the oldest person there, and Dean thought he might be the second oldest. It was early, and there weren’t many patrons seated at the jet black plastic tables, but none of them looked old enough to drink. Seated at the table closest to Dean were a young couple, a girl and an older-looking boy, wearing equal amounts of eyeliner. The girl was dressed in few pounds of black lace, right down to a lace choker with a cross dangling from it that she tugged on shyly. The young man, if anything, had even crazier fashion. Dean didn’t know what you’d call that thing with all the ruffles, but it looked a few generations out of its time. Or maybe centuries. Dean caught the phrase “people just don’t understand me” before he tuned out with a scoff.

“Come on, no one’s voice is naturally that low and gravely,” he grumbled.

“We here to hunt or not?”

“Okay, fine. Catch me up.”

Rufus wiped coffee out of his mustache, keeping his voice low. “Bout a week ago, Gravel tossed me a Chicago case that looked fishy to them. I got to digging, and of course there’s tons of unsolved murders and missing persons in Chicago, but a mighty suspicious number of them looked like they could be vamp-related.”

“Big nest?”

“Oh yeah. Real big. Biggest I’ve ever seen.” Rufus took a sip of coffee. “Big enough that we’re gonna have to be clever. Can’t just barge in guns a-blazin’ or our asses are gonna be vamp chow.”

“Rats,” Dean grunted humorlessly. “That’s my favorite strategy.”

“I’m bettin’ it’s got a leader like any other nest,” Rufus continued. “The biggest, baddest vamp around. With a nest this big, that’s gotta be one scary motherfucker. But I’m thinking if we take the big one out, s’gonna be chaos. All the second biggest, baddest vamps fighting for control.”

“Could fracture the nest,” Dean picked up. “We take ‘em out one by one after that.” He leaned back in his chair, flinging one arm over the velvety back of the chair, staring thoughtfully into his coffee. One big bad vamp. Newly turned vampires were no threat to an armed, skilled hunter -- barely stronger than a human, overwhelmed and disoriented by their recent transition -- but the older ones were forces to be reckoned with. Dean sloshed his coffee around in his cup. If the nest was as big as Rufus seemed to think, they could be dealing with a seriously old, seriously scary vampire.

A breathy little gasp from the couple behind them made Dean groan in exasperation.

“For fuck’s sake,” he said loudly. “She’s probably, like, fourteen. Knock it off, man.”

The couple at the table stopped talking, but the girl gasped again, this time in offense. Dean leaned over the back of his faux-velvet chair to glare at them.

“Well? You’re sure not eighteen, are you?”

“I’ll be eighteen in October!” the girl retorted hotly, her cheeks flushing.

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted back in his chair. “Awesome.”

The young man swept out of his chair, extending a pale hand to his date. “We don’t need to stay here and be judged. Come, let’s find some place more... secluded.”

“But... the rain!”

“I will give you my jacket. And you will look lovely even with wet hair.”

“Oh... your hand is so cold... ”

“Yes... like my heart.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Jesus fuck... ”

The couple left the café, the girl shooting Dean one more glare over her shoulder. A blast of cold, wet air gusted through the café as they left, before the door swung shut behind them.

“Drink up,” Rufus grunted, lifting his own cup of coffee to his lips. “Soon as the rain lets up, we’re gonna find us a motel and catch you up on the details of this case.”

----

There wasn’t much to be said for the decor of the motel they found, except that at least it wasn’t the Sleeping Beauty café.

On the coffee table of their room, Dean sorted through Rufus’s collection of newspaper clippings and printed articles while the other man showered. Rufus had scribbled over the faded old pages in red pen, underlining sentences and circling words, scratching barely-legible notes in the margins. There was a thick packet of articles stretching back decades that all involved some mangling of the neck. Some even involved decapitations. In a sticky note on top, Rufus had written “head chopping: hides neck bites.”

Dean put the stack of articles aside, picking up the next packet. On top was a photo from a security camera, showing a dark parking lot and a clear view of a young man walking across it. Stapled to the photo was an article from 1988 with pictures of the same man, claimed to be missing. Dean squinted at the timestamp on the security camera photo. The year was 2009. If anything, the man looked younger.

Rufus’s research contained a handful of other clear examples of a missing person showing up years later, completely un-aged. Dean pursed his eyebrows. He set the photos and articles aside, picking up a different stack of paper: Rufus’s master list of missing Chicago denizens with potential vampire connections. Dean sorted through the pictures, his frown deepening the more he looked.

The bathroom door opened and Rufus stepped out, damp but clothed.

“One of us has an admirer,” he announced. “S’probably me.”

Dean tossed the stack of papers down. “Got another pattern. Nearly everyone that you’ve got on your list here is between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five.”

“You don’t say?”

“Not just that.” Dean gestured at the stack of papers. “There ain’t a girl on this list that isn’t eye-catching. And the guys... I don’t even swing that way and I can tell they’re lookers.”

Rufus pursed his eyebrows. “You’re sayin’ the vamps are targeting young hot people?”

“Not just targeting. Turning.” Dean leaned back in his chair. “They’re gathering a vampire army of... young hot people.”

Rufus sniffed. “Well, Dean, you know what this means... ”

“Not really.”

Rufus pressed a hand to his chest. “This means I ain’t safe.”

Dean chuckled, skimming an article. “Yeah, you’re a real... ” Dean trailed off as something caught his eye. “Hang on... ”

The article was about a missing girl, age nineteen. Right there on the page were the words “last seen at the Sleeping Beauty café.”

Dean pointed. “That’s where we got coffee this morning.” He leafed through the stack of missing persons, noticing a prevalence of eyeliner and black clothing that he hadn’t pieced together before. A sudden image of the couple in the café swam into his mind, and Dean rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Shit... Rufus, I think that weird-ass café is vamp hunting grounds. And I think we let one get away.”

Rufus’s look darkened. “You think that boy was a vamp?”

“Yeah.”

“ ... Shit.” Rufus walked across the room and flopped down in an armchair. After a moment he grunted, “Well, can’t dwell on it. We’ve got a big-ass vamp nest to take down, and now we know where they like to hunt.”

“Well, it’s something, at least.”

“More than that. I think we’ve got our in.”

“Yeah? How d’you figure?”

“Our admirer.” Rufus gestured at the bathroom window. “Someone chick’s been standing on the opposite corner, staring into our window. Looks like the girl outside that weird-ass café, the one who got all friendly with you. And she’s not too keen on stepping out of the shade, if you get my drift.”

Dean frowned. “I’m being stalked by a vamp?”

“Nah, like I said, she’s probably stalking me.”

“Rufus -- come on, man.” Dean tossed the article down on the pile. “I’m in the age bracket, they clearly want me for their hot person army. I’m missing the part where any of this is good news.”

Rufus chuckled. “Dean, see, I think I’ve got a plan to take out our big boss vamp. And you’re gonna hate it.”

----

Several blocks from the Sleeping Beauty café, in a narrow alley swathed in shade and rain, a teenage girl wearing a black lace choker was fixing her eyeliner in a handheld mirror. Between the dumpsters, leaning against the wet brick wall and groaning faintly, slumped an older boy dressed in something that looked a few generations out of its time. His head was fallen to the side, raindrops washing blood from the ragged bite in his neck.

The girl snapped her mirror shut at the sound of footsteps. Someone was walking down the alley, his hoodie pulled up to keep off the rain and the pale light of dawn.

“You took your bloody time with him, Jack,” the approaching man called. “The sun’s up. Itches like crazy.”

Jack brushed her wet hair out of her face, giving the unconscious young man a glance. “He felt the need to spin me some poetry, take me on a little tour of the city. It all worked out in the end.”

When he got close enough to inspect the boy, the vampire grunted. “You actually turn him this time, or just drain him?”

“Turned. I know my job.” Jack snapped her mirror open again, re-analyzing her makeup. “Not that I’m convinced he’s worth it. Can’t say much for his personality. But Boris does love a pretty face.”

“Speaking of pretty faces... ” The other vampire cocked his head in the general direction of the Sleeping Beauty. “Did you see pretty boy in there? Leather jacket, bedroom eyes?”

“I saw.” Jack sighed into her mirror. “We won’t be seducing that one, though. He’s not into the whole ‘vampire’ allure. Tell Oscar to do it.”

“I don’t care how we acquire him. Boris is gonna want that one.”

Dean heaved, gripping the sides of the motel toilet, staring down into the clear water and willing his stomach to retain its contents. The sound of his own ragged breathing filled the small room.

He could do this. Rufus may have come up with the single least appealing plan Dean had ever run with, but by god, he could do this. He just had to...

Dean lifted his gaze, staring out into the main room of the motel where he knew a plastic gallon jug was waiting for him, full of dark milky red --

Dean turned back to the toilet urgently, hyperventilating.

... He just had to not throw up.

The motel door clicked as it opened. Dean licked his dry lips and called out weakly, “Hey, Rufus.”

“Bitch, I know you ain’t throwing that up. Just because we’re in Chicago don’t mean that food-safe corpses grow on trees.”

“Nah.” Dean laid his arm across the toilet seat and rested his forehead against it, closing his eyes. “Haven’t started drinking yet. Just picked up the jug and... got a whiff.”

Thick, metallic, nauseating. All the same, he could have bit his tongue and toughed his way through that. What made Dean run for the bathroom was the memory of Baby’s trunk full of dark red gallon jugs just like that, and the guilty greed in Sam’s eyes when he looked at them.

“ ... You mind not watching this?”

Dean forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to slow his breathing. He could do this. He heard Rufus entering the bathroom and forced himself to look up, nearly doubling up again at the sight of another gallon jug in Rufus’s hand.

Rufus caught his expression and lifted the jug, shaking it. “Open wide.”

“Fuck off,” Dean rasped, pulling himself away from the toilet and standing up. Rufus held out the jug, and Dean took it gingerly. The handle was sticky.

“We’re lucky to even have this much,” Rufus reminded him. “Everyone else in the morgue already had formaldehyde. Don’t wanna be chugging that.”

“Yeah,” Dean added, eyes locked on the jug of blood. He pulled the cap off, cringing as he stared down into the thick red liquid inside. “D-do we even know this will work?”

“Nope.” Rufus gave Dean a firm clap on the shoulder before turning and walking out of the bathroom. “But it’s what we got. Imma find another morgue to hit up, just in case you don’t keep that down.”

“Yeah.” Dean cringed, still not bringing the jug to his lips.

Rufus peered back into the bathroom. “You better keep it down, though.”

“I know.”

“More y’drink, more likely this pipe dream is gonna work.”

“It had better fucking work,” Dean breathed, and with that, he raised the jug to his lips and took a deep, sickening gulp. He gagged violently but managed to swallow, cringing and wiping the back of his hands over his lips. It left a red smear. He was pretty sure the taste was permanently branded onto his tastebuds, sour and metallic and heavy.

Rufus gave him an approving nod. “Atta boy.”

“Tastes like chicken,” Dean grunted weakly. The blood felt weird in his stomach. Despite his gulp, the bottle still looked distressingly full.

“Hey.” Rufus pointed a stern finger at Dean. “You pace yourself, y’hear.”

“Yeah. Gotcha.”

“Don’t you throw that up.”

Dean rolled his head, raising his eyebrows as he stared down into the bottle. “Yeah, I’ll do my best.”

Rufus walked away, his footsteps thumping on the carpeted floor. The door clicked shut as he left, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut and downed another thick gulp of dead man’s blood.

----

Nightfall saw Dean sitting next to a table bearing three empty gallon jugs, all staining brown as the blood on them dried. A forth one dangled from his hand, just a few sticky sips left at the bottom. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this physically disgusting. The blood filled his belly like a too-rich meal, making him queasy. Dean didn’t know how, but he’d managed to keep down every gulp.

Rufus sat on the edge of one of the beds, sharpening a machete. The only noise in the room was the slow scrape of whetstone over steel as the sky darkened outside. Dean braced himself and downed the last gulp of blood, knocking it back like a shot. The taste clung to his tongue regardless, harsher than whiskey.

Dean set the bottle down and wiped his mouth off. “S’dark enough outside,” he declared, extending an open palm towards Rufus’s machete. “Pass it over.”

Rufus made no move to hand him the blade. “Nah, you can’t go in with a weapon.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re fang bait.” Rufus scraped the whetstone across the blade again. “Fang bait don’t bring weapons.”

Dean pulled his hand back, scowling. “Have I mentioned that I hate this plan?”

“Yup.”

“Hate it.” Dean stood up and jabbed a finger at Rufus. “You better not lose sight of me.”

“You’d better get the big bad somewhere alone.”

“I’ll request a romantic little back alley,” Dean snapped dryly, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on. “Complete with mating cats and the faint stench of piss. That’ll get me right in the mood for blood loss.”

----

Mating cats it lacked, but the alley certainly smelled like piss.

Dean tugged his jacket tighter around himself as he walked further down the dark, dingy little street. His boots splashed through greasy puddles in the uneven concrete, oily rainbows dancing on their surface. There were no lamps in the alley, but a buzzing neon sign oozed a sickly glow over the cracked pavement. Rather than illuminating the alley, it only served to accentuate the shadows.

Something rustled in a soggy dumpster, and Dean’s whole body went tense before a cat leaped out with a yowl and ran away. Dean huffed with unease. It was a struggle to not constantly scan his surroundings, to keep his body relaxed. He had to look like easy prey. He certainly felt that way. With no weapons weighing him down, his belt was uncomfortably light on his hips.

Rufus was tailing him, he tried to remind himself as he kept walking. Ready to jump in at the right moment. The thought wasn’t nearly as comforting as a good bit of steel would have been. Dean shuddered, trying to keep his eyes on his feet like some idiot civie who didn’t know how dumb it was to walk down an alley alone at night.

Even though his ears were straining to pick up any hint of sound, the firm hand that suddenly grabbed the back of Dean’s jacket caught him by surprise. The stained brick wall seemed to fly up to meet his face as he was thrown against it. A powerful hand twisted in his hair, yanking his head back, exposing his neck.

“No talking,” a crisp voice commanded. “No need to make a mess of this. Hold still, and it will barely hurt. Or something.”

“Are you a vampire?” Dean spilled out in a rush, keeping his hands planted firmly against the filthy brick wall, fighting the urge to writhe against his assailant’s hold.

“Of course not. Vampires aren’t real.”

Dean’s head was pulled back further, his neck aching. “I-I’m looking for a vampire!”

There was silence for a moment. Dean’s chest heaved, his scalp starting to sting from the rough grip on his hair.

“ ... Go on.”

Dean swallowed, his throat bobbing. “I -- I wanna find out what it’s like to get bit. Hear it’s, y’know... ” He winced against the sting of the hand in his hair. “ ... titillating?”

“ ... Hm.”

The grip on Dean’s hair finally loosened and let go. He rubbed the ache out of his neck and turned around. The man facing him was tall, slim, and blond, wearing a nice suit and an impatient expression.

The man extended a hand. “Oscar.”

Dean hesitated before taking his hand and shaking it awkwardly. The vampire’s hand tightened around his, and before Dean could so much as shout he was yanked close, the vampire breathing into his neck. Dean went tense with alarm when he heard the soft, wet noise of fangs sliding out.

“I don’t want any lewd moaning,” the vampire whispered against his neck. “You hear me?”

“Wh-whoa, wait -- ” Dean pressed a firm hand against the vampire’s shoulder, though he might as well have tried to shove off a ton of bricks. “I-I don’t want just any vampire biting me!”

The vampire pulled back with an offended huff. “I’m hardly any vampire, you uncultured whelp. But very well. Who, in your immaculate wisdom and taste, do you want biting you?”

Dean swallowed, his heart still thumping. He tried to sound eager, wanting. “ ... Someone powerful. I only want the most powerful vampire in the city. The big bad.”

Oscar the vampire sighed. “Delightful. That’s what the Boss’s ego needs, a groupie.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “No talking while I’m on the phone, or I will rip your throat out.”

He dialed a number, and held the phone to his ear as it rang. Dean blinked. Vampire nests had a social order, sure, but they weren’t usually cell phone organized. This was just plain surreal.

“Hello, Boris. ... Boss.” Oscar rolled his eyes. “There’s a human who wants to see you. Yes, he -- Yes. In that way. That is in fact what I am implying. Yes. ... Please stop talking.” Oscar rubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, Boris. ... Boss. At once.” He hung up, and gave Dean a weary look. “Good news. He’s very eager to meet you.”

Dean forced himself to smile. “Yahtzee.”

----

Through the darkening streets of Chicago, under harsh white street lamps and down putrid alleys, Dean followed the vampire. Dean had his fingers crossed in his pockets that Rufus was keeping up with them. He wanted to look over his shoulder and check, but if he blew Rufus’s cover, the whole plan was a bust.

Dean was just about to ask how far they were going when Oscar stopped in front of a big office building. Dean craned his head back to look up the steely-black length of it. He caught the words “Lioncourt Luxury Hardwoods” before a creak drew his attention back down. Oscar was pushing open the open the black glass doors, stepping inside.

“Come on, boy. Don’t keep the Boss waiting.”

Dean hesitated, a prickle of unease going up his spine. This wasn’t right. Vampires didn’t bite their victims in crowded office buildings. Oscar stopped when he realized Dean wasn’t following.

“Come.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. Dean swallowed and stepped inside.

Oscar led him through a luxuriant lobby. Everything was furnished with black marble, dark hardwoods, and shiny brass trim. Dean froze when they approached the elevators, falling behind Oscar.

“Um -- When I said, private, I was thinking, maybe -- a hotel room or a gas station bathroom or something -- ”

Oscar ignored him, pressing the elevator call button and checking his watch. The elevator’s elaborate wooden doors opened with a ding, and when Oscar stepped inside, Dean had no choice but to follow. The shutting doors felt like the jaws of a trap closing around him.

“Um.” Dean shifted from foot to foot, his hands clenching and unclenching, upsettingly empty. “About this. Privacy thing.”

“The Boss likes to dine in his office.” Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out a little brass key. “Around here, you do what the Boss wants.” His cold eyes darted to Dean. “Even if what he wants involves taking precious time out of your day to deliver some human with atrocious acting abilities to his office.”

Dean’s lungs seized. “Wh -- what do you mean by -- ”

“Honey, stop. Just stop. I don’t want to know details. Whatever your game is, I don’t have time to deal with it.” Oscar slipped the key into the elevator’s panel. “But if it’s about getting in his pants, I assure you, the song and dance is unnecessary.”

The key twisted, flashing in the light, and Oscar pressed the button for the top floor. Dean’s heart nearly stopped. Shit shit shit. They’d fucked up. Rufus wasn’t going to be able to follow him here. This wasn’t a nest, this was a fortress, and he was in here without a weapon and without backup --

“You seem concerned,” Oscar commented softly, eyes on his phone as he texted.

Dean hoped his face wasn’t too pale as he forced a smile. “C-course not. Just, uh -- ” He gestured vaguely at the lavish interior of the elevator, his mind racing. “Didn’t expect something this nice.”

He was completely fucked. There was no way he’d be allowed to leave this building. Dean swallowed and tapped his foot nervously against the black carpeted floor, watching the numbers on the elevator light up as they passed from floor to floor. He prayed that Oscar wasn’t listening to his racing heart.

----

All too soon, the elevator doors chimed and slid open. Oscar extended a hand, and Dean stepped gingerly out into a lobby. No machete. How do you kill a vampire with no machete? Oscar brushed past him, striding briskly away. Dean tried to take even breaths he was led down a black-carpeted hall. How the fuck do you kill a vampire with no goddamn weapons and moderate to severe blood loss -- ?

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when Oscar grabbed his shoulder, halting him in front of a pair of heavy, dark doors.

“This one.” Oscar gave him a little shove towards the door. “Go in.” He crossed the hall, stopping in front of a much more modest door. “This is my office,” he explained, rapping his knuckles against the door and speaking slowly as if afraid Dean wouldn’t be able to keep up otherwise. “That one is the Boss’s. Unfortunately, neither of these doors are soundproofed. Make my life easier. Don’t be a screamer.”

Dean couldn’t find words as Oscar opened the door to his own office.

“Go in,” Oscar pressed impatiently before slamming his door shut.

Dean gulped, turning to face the huge wooden doors. His hand was shaking slightly as he grabbed the shiny brass handle. The door creaked as he pushed it open.

Dean poked his head inside. “ ... Hello? Mr. Boss vampire?”

The dark room was vast, lavish, and an entire wall was a floor-to-ceiling window, showing a sweeping view of the nighttime city. But as far as Dean could tell, it was empty.

Dean slammed the door behind himself and stalked through the room, scouring the walls and furniture. Black leather upholstery. Dim ceiling lamps. A huge, heavy desk with a big metal skull on it. The whole place was like something out of a gothic porno, but absolutely nothing could be turned into a decapitating weapon. Dean cursed, circling the room, craning his head back to search the walls. He just needed something, anything that could potentially be used to chop a head off. Come on. Novelty swords. Convenient metal sculpture. A fucking letter opener --

The door creaked, and Dean’s spine went rigid. He turned around slowly, trying to breathe.

A man was leaning against the doorframe, framed by the brighter light of the hallway. He leered, so overtly and greedily that his eyes felt like hands. Dean’s skin crawled. Nothing about the man’s greasy, bushy black hair or stained wifebeater shirt or ragged leather jacket said “CEO” to him, but something told him this vampire was the Boss.

“Wow.” The man grinned, needle-sharp teeth sliding out. “You’re pretty.”

Dean took a step back as the vampire stepped into the room. “You’re -- you’re the Boss, right?”

The vampire closed the door behind himself. “And you must be my treat. Tasty.”

Dean flinched as he heard the door lock with a click. The man started walking towards him, and he forced himself not to back away like his legs were begging him to.

“S-so this is a nice joint you’ve got here,” Dean rambled as the vampire approached with a hungry grin. “Kinda fancy shmancy for a vamp nest. I mean, if that’s not rude. Why don’t you. Um.” Dean swallowed and wavered back a step as the man walked right up to him. “ ... Tell me all about it?”

Boris’s thick fingers grabbed Dean’s chin, silver rings digging into his jaw. Dean struggled to breathe.

“The fancy shmancy skyscraper is a neat little mask,” Boris drawled, tilting Dean’s head from side to side and assessing the quality of his neck. “We don’t hide in the dark. We stand out in the open and look pretty, and the pretty people come right to us. A modern Théâtre Des Vampires.” Boris cocked his head. “Do you read Anne Rice?”

“C-can’t say I have,” Dean wheezed.

“Mm. Shame. I suppose no one is perfect.” Boris’s thick thumb rubbed against the flickering pulse on Dean’s neck. “My pretty boys and girls bring me more pretty boys and girls. So I get a nice constant stream of pretty boys and girls to keep the theater going and do... well, whatever else I want them to do, really.”

Dean swallowed, his throat bobbing against Boris’s hand. “O-oh?”

Boris chuckled. “We’re not some little nest, cutie pie, we’re big time. I’m big time.” He leaned towards Dean’s bare neck, fangs out. “But I hear you like big time -- ”

“Whoa there!” Dean squirmed and managed a shaky grin. “Wh-what, no foreplay?”

“Oh, you want a kiss first?” Boris slipped a hand under Dean’s jacket, wrapping it around his waist. “Nah, you want something a little heavier, don’t you?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he flinched back. “E-easy there -- ”

“I like to do ‘em up against the window.” Boris cocked his head towards the glass wall, the city sprawling below. “My toys say they like the view.”

“Nope! No, uh, no need!” Dean laughed nervously, reaching back for something to brace himself on and finding the solid wood of the desk. “W-we can just -- uh -- dive in! ... With the biting! Just the biting.” Dean swallowed, drumming his fingers anxiously against the desk and trying to scan the room again. Come on, anything, anything --

Boris blew out an impatient breath. “Closeted. It figures. Well, we’ll see if you change your mind after a little kiss... ”

The hand on Dean’s jaw tightened. Dean cringed as his head was forced to the side. No breath against his skin when Boris leaned in. A wet tongue scraped over Dean’s neck and he flinched.

“You taste a little funny, pretty boy. Haven’t been eating garlic, have you?”

Dean tensed in alarm. Dead man’s blood. He grabbed a handful of Boris’ thick black hair, trying to drag his face in.

“B-bite me,” he panted, “bite me now, come on!”

Boris didn’t seem to need further urging. Dean felt the pinpricks first, a dozen needle-sharp points against his skin, lingering there for just a second before the fangs punctured and Boris bit down hard. Dean clenched his teeth on a hiss of pain. The first ferocious tug of suction on the wound made his head spin, his knees nearly give out. Boris’s mouth pulled the blood out of his body in deep, hungry swallows, gulping him down like a cheap beer.

Dean’s knuckles whitened against the rim of the desk, his heart jackhammering in his chest as the vampire slowly drained him. There had to be something in this room. Anything with a sharp edge, he’d take a paperclip at this point --

Boris tore his fangs out of Dean’s neck with a gag, reeling back. He wiped a hand slowly across his bloody mouth.

“That’s no garlic there,” he panted, staggering slightly, watching the slight tremble in his hand. His cold eyes rose to meet Dean’s. “Not garlic at all. The hell did you take?”

Boris looked even less steady on his feet than Dean felt. Dean slipped out from between Boris and the desk, trying to put some space between himself and the vampire --

Boris reached out with startling speed, making a crude grab for Dean’s shirt. Dean staggered back, an aching spike going through his head at the sudden movement. The blood loss had left him disoriented, wobbly.

Boris snarled, his bloody fangs bared. “What the hell did you take?”

Dean’s fist cracked into Boris’s jaw, delivering as much power into the blow as he could. He was still shaking the sting out of his hand when Boris returned the blow, hard enough to knock the wind out of him and send him staggering back. Then there was a powerful hand grabbing his shoulder, turning him around and throwing him towards the empty air of the city --

Dean grunted as he was slammed against the glass of the window, face pressed against it, a several hundred foot drop stretching out before him. Boris had him pinned in place, one hand twisted in his hair, the other grabbing his arm and wrenching it behind his back --

The joint twisted painfully and Dean cried out.

“Tell me what you took,” Boris snarled into his neck. “And when I play with you, I won’t break you.”

“A big hearty dose of fuck you,” Dean shouted back.

Gripping Dean’s hair tighter, Boris pressed his face hard against the glass. Dean kept his eyes squeezed shut, trying not to look down, trying not to imagine that the window was about to crack and break under the freight-train force of Boris holding him in place --

... Wait.

“You’re lucky you’ve got a pretty face,” Boris growled. His body pressed up behind Dean’s, pinning him harder against the window and drawing a strangled gasp from Dean. “I’m gonna leave that intact. The rest of you, though -- ”

“Wait -- ” Dean swallowed hard. “Wait, I’ll tell you what I took, okay?”

“Tell me.”

Dean’s breath steamed against the cold glass. “I’m a dead man walking. Got dead blood in my veins and everything.”

Boris’s grip loosened, his voice softened by confusion. “What? How?”

Dean spun and twisted his arm away from Boris’s grasp. The desk was only a few feet away. Dean ran for it, and his fingers found cold, cast metal. As Boris recovered and approached with bared fangs, Dean dug his fingers into the eye sockets of the fake skull and hurled it towards the window.

The glass shattered, a thousand thick, razor shards sparkling in the city lights before they fell. The steel frame held jagged chunks of glass, ringing the windy opening like teeth. Boris wasn’t distracted for long, turning his cold eyes back towards Dean. Dean leapt at him, toppling them over, grabbing a thick handful of Boris’s hair and slamming it down onto the glass as they fell --

The glass made a sound like slicing meat as it drove through Boris’s neck. Dean sprawled back across the floor, panting hard, the room spinning. Boris was motionless, face-down with his head hanging out the window, blood seeping onto the glass and splattered across the floor. Dean rubbed a hand over his aching head, his heart still pounding.

A low, heavy noise of rage from Boris nearly made Dean jump out of his skin. The glass hadn’t cut all the way through.

“Fucking vampires,” Dean grunted under his breath, pulling his jacket off. He wrapped it around his hands before approaching the broken window. The wind was frigid and harsh in his face, stinging in his eyes. Dean grabbed a thick chunk of razor sharp glass, yanking until it snapped off, sending a dust of glass into the wind. “Just once I want to have a machete with me when I meet a fucking vampire.”

He knelt down, and raised the shard of glass above his head. It took several hard stabs before Boris’s head finally tumbled away, falling out into the cold open air of Chicago without a sound.

Dean collapsed back onto the floor, tossing aside the bloody glass. “Never leaving the house without a machete again. Fucking vampires.”

----

The heavy wooden door creaked loudly as Dean nudged it open. He peered outside, half expecting to see Oscar and a platoon of vampire guards waiting in the hall.

The hall was empty. The door to Oscar’s office was ajar, and there was a neatly written note taped to it. Dean slipped out through the door and approached the note.

----

My respected Boss,

I CANNOT WORK IN THESE CONDITIONS.

I have gone downstairs to find some place more PEACEFUL to work as I keep this company afloat. Learn to keep yourself and your victims QUIET. If this happens one more time, I will fill your office with ball gags. Fill. It.

Good day.

- Oscar, your immaculate secretary, without whom we would have gone bankrupt decades ago

Dean blinked at the note. Secretary? Cautiously, he eased Oscar’s door open.

Oscar’s small office was filled floor to ceiling with exotic potted plants. Aside from that, it was sparse and clean, with little more than a filing cabinet and a few chairs. Perched on a simple desk, surrounded by a veritable forest of ferns and orchids, was an open laptop.

Dean pulled back, glancing down the length of the hallway. All was quiet. He looked back at the laptop. Big secret vampire incorporation, huh? There was probably a lot of useful information on that laptop.

Dean slipped into the office, navigating between the plants and grabbing the laptop. He took off his jacket and draped it over the computer, holding it underneath. His luck had carried him this far, maybe he could push it just a little farther.

----

The elevator ride was nerve-wracking. Dean tapped his foot as the numbers dinged past. He hoped Rufus hadn’t tried anything stupid in the past twenty minutes. When the doors chimed and slid open, Dean darted towards them and nearly bumped into Oscar.

“Oh good,” Oscar said dryly as Dean grappled with the laptop under his jacket, trying not to drop it. “He’s done with you.”

Pale-faced, Dean nodded. “Uh, yeah, he -- he was wonderful.”

“Please, no details.” Oscar brushed past him, stepping into the elevator and pulling out his little brass key. Dean turned around and strode stiffly towards the door, fighting the urge to bolt.

The black glass doors opened against the push of his shoulder, and the night closed around Dean like a blanket. He heaved out a deep sigh, striding away from the building. The bustle of the nighttime city was comfortingly mundane. He wasn’t sure if this would be one of the hunts he bragged about, or never wanted to mention again.

“Dean!”

Dean spun at the sound of Rufus’s voice. The man was peering out of the alley next to the Lioncourt skyscraper, looking half panicked and half impressed. He had a significant length of rope looped over his shoulder.

“What the hell did you do?” he hissed as Dean jogged over. “I thought I was gonna have to scale the building and bust your ass out of there, and suddenly this vamp head nearly lands on me!”

“I’ll regale you with the details later.” Dean shot a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I stole the secretary’s laptop. We gotta get out of here before they notice. Or find the Boss’s body.”

Rufus squinted, then beckoned Dean to follow him down the alley. “We’re getting in the car and then you’d better tell me everything. Secretary vampires, jesus.”

----

Chicago city lights flashed by as Rufus drove them back to the motel. Dean had the computer open in his lap, navigating through the different folders.

“Shit, Rufus. You were right, this is huge.” Dean’s eyes scanned the screen. “Half of these folders want some kinda password, but even the ones I can open are just -- I never knew vamps could organize like this.”

Rufus smirked. “You got somethin’ in your eye there.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “What?”

“Fire.” Rufus gave Dean a grin. “You’re havin’ fun, ain’t you?”

“On that job? I don’t think I’ve ever hated a plan more.”

“Admit it, you missed the hunt.”

“Shut up.” Dean’s face finally lost the battle with his grin. “ ... I killed him with a piece of his own window.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Room with no weapons, and I still killed him.” Dean clicked on another folder, scrolling through the contents. “I’m a complete bada-- ”

Dean froze, his smile gone. The photo on the screen stared back at him like an accusation.

Rufus glanced away from the road. “What? Something wrong?”

Dean’s voice barely worked, his lips struggling to form the words a few times before any noise came out. “ ... It’s Ben.”

There was no mistaking him, even with the dim lighting and grainy photo. That was the dark hair that Dean used to muss up, the eyes that used to look at him with such awe. Those eyes looked dead now, out of focus. And between Ben’s parted lips, Dean could see fangs.

Rufus’s voice cut the silence. “ ... Does it say somethin’ about him?”

“Nothing.” Dean’s mouth was dry. He tried to wet his lips, closing the file. His hands felt numb. “It’s just a photo in a folder.”

“What’s the folder called?”

“ ... ‘Gifts.’”

#supernatural #supernatural schism #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #bobby singer #Rufus

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