#hunting monsters and getting bitches (gender neutral)

[dean-is-love]

this bisexual man is walking free in your small town!

[lostmyshadesanon]

Naoya X Reader

Part 2 As Eventually Promised

@teyvat-writer

Tags/Warnings: Gender Neutral Reader, Broad interpretation of his curse power so time stopping, vulgar language, obviously NSFW, non-con, power play, master/servant play, voyeurism, forced orgasm, reader being horny and distressed for most of this fic once I can get passed the set up.

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After that day it became a pattern.

A cat and mouse game.

Though more like a well bred hunting dog playing with an injured game bird.

You tried desperately to last another day without calling him. Watching the wards disintegrating fleck by fleck of ink. Hoping you could last another day while the noises crept closer and closer.

Before finally the scratching at your window, and screaming from around the corner would send you scurrying to an amused Naoya who fained that it was not him who stood you on this path to begin with.

Enjoying breaking down your excuses, or attempts at professionalism, because it gave him more pleasure to watch you grovel and beg for his assistance at his knees.

Eventually you came crawling just as he wanted and he proposed a game. Whenever the wards needed to be renewed you would pay him for his services just as before, but he could request anything of you, and you must not refuse or he would leave you to the monsters.

You stared up at the devil in human skin that may be a worse monster than any whisper or noise you could hear, but could nothing but accept.

---------------------------------------------------

The renewal of the wards never seemed to have a consistent schedule and only seemed determined by Naoya's mercurial moods.

Some days he dress you in fine silks that barely covered anything while Naoya paid someone to take pictures of you in compromising positions.

Other days he would storm in, not even an attempt at a greeting, before kicking your legs apart and ruthlessly pounding your hole, before pumping you full of his cum. Shoving you to the side once he was done so he could straightened his cloths and then whirling outside as if he had better things to do then this chore that was being placed upon him. As you laid there geared up but left unsatisfied, as Naoya could care less if you came from his exploits, you were glad his servants had the decency to warn you to stretch before he came barging in and tore you apart. You were just disappointed in yourself to find that sometimes this treatment had started to get you off in some way as well. No better than a life size onahole that inconvenienced him by being out of convenient reach.

Once you had gotten snappish from trying to balance school, his requests, and the voices you could hear, and sneered that his wards must not be very good if they need replenishing so often.

Naoya's face had twisted up in a snarl as he hissed, "Watch your tone, bitch!" Before storming off in a huff.

You had only gotten monetary sense of victory before falling asleep that night, and waking to your wards in tatters around you and the blood of stray animals covering the walls along with deep grooves in the plaster.

You had payed dearly for being bold and desperate enough to request Naoya's help the day after insulting him so.

Or at least that's what he told you while he hung you blind and bound from the ceiling. Drool dripping from both your orifices while Naoya leisure swung a cane, and remarked, "What a dumb bitch I have picked up that can not even count properly! We will need to start over so you can learn your numbers properly."

You couldn't tell if you moaned or cried at the next smack.

---------------------------------------------------

It was finally winter break! Free of your responsibilities and school work. You should be estatic... but you had been called by your so called master to come as service him.

Though today it seemed he wanted to impress upon the literacy of his title instead of the metaphorical leash he had on you and your safety and sanity.

At least he had the decency to wait until after school was over for the semester before demanded you live in his home and pay for his "services" and not make him have to leave constantly, and you should be greatful to pay for them in this way considering your dwindling finances. Though it was his suddenly weak wards that needed constantly replenishing that was putting you in that situation.

You could not quite identify if the squirming in your stomach was when you found out your quarters were the servant quarters attached to Naoya's room, and the surprise and heat when after returning from a bath later that night all your belongings had disappeared and the Zenin Household's maid outfit remained.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to tear apart the fabric fiber by fiber and toss the rags in that smug man's face.

Except...you could not and unfortunately you both knew it. He was the only thing keeping you safe and he had no qualms about holding that above your head, and you had no doubt that if you tore apart the outfit he would make you do whatever work he desired completely bare. Sneering in glee at any lick of embarrassment or shame that would cross your features while doing so.

So you put on the outfit.

Almost as if they were spying on you. The moment you were finished you were summomed by an imperial demand from the next room.

Opening up the side door that leads directly into Naoya's room you glare at the smiling man whose face pulls further into a leer while examining you.

"What!" You demand.

"It's customary to greet your master whenever you see him is it not? Especially for one at your station." Naoya stated relaxing back on his large pillow much like a smug feline who could not wait to play with his prey.

Your hands clean he's so tightly in the fabric you were surprised it did not tear it, before biting out, "What can I do for you, Master?"

He beckoned you with a slender finger before casually pulling back his hakama to expose the sash around his waist keeping his pants tied, and gestures towards the now visibly growing bulge. "Even though you're a bitch who struggles remembering their numbers I'm sure you can at least fetch your treat."

The drawl in his voice and the reminder of one of your last encounters before you had disappeared of the map to study for your finals had heat rolling and twisting through your belly. You felt heat rush to your cheeks as your body remembered viserely the crack on the cane and the burning of affected limbs, and the eventual descent into pleasure had you shifting incrementally as you kneeled down next to Naoya shaky hands pulling at the tie.

Glancing up you didn't know if it was better or worse that Naoya seemed to disregard you after his order going back to reading and replying to his paperwork, while you fondled his cock.

Looking back down you wondered if muse member would help you relax enough to take the impressive member after a couple weeks away, but before you could get further prepared past wrapping lip around his flushed gland you felt a large hand grasp your skull firmly before thrusting you down onto the cock.

You gagged violently trying to raise up to get away from the sudden intrusion. But you were pinned neatly to Naoya's pelvis only able to thrash with your lower body, while the man holding you down did not even flinch at your continued movements. Just continuing to steadily work on paperwork one handed.

Only when you were so light headed that your struggles ceased did Naoya pull you from the base of his cock. You barely got a lung full of air filled with the musk of a days work and sweaty balls before you were slid back down to the base again. Tears pricked at your eyes while heat spread out to your extremities as you watched the man above you completely disregard you in everyway except a convenient hole to fuck and keep his cock warm while he worked.

It seemed both like minutes and hours before warmth gushed into your throat and the member softened enough to only fill your mouth so you could breath steadily while you felt gunky from the bitter taste, lack on air, and continued pressure into sweaty balls and pubes.

You laid there for an unknown amount of time cockwarming Naoya face buried in his pelvis while he absentmindedly massages your scalp. Even then you could tell it was less for aftercare and more like he was treating you like a well behaved cat. You didn't know how you felt when your reaction to that notion was a flare of fire in your gut and a twitch of your hips to grind against the floor.

Later when you felt his dick starting to twitch as if ready for another round when you attempted a second escape. You did not know if he let you escape because he was surprised by the sudden movement or if he had something worse planned but you had to try before your body got any weirder.

Golden brown eyes watched you like a hawk as you struggled towards the exit. Before with only a single word and hand gesture your body froze like a block of ice.

Naoya sighs while standing, "And you were being such a good pet, but naughty dogs who try to refuse training must be punished."

He closes the gap between your frozen form and him. Your muscles spasms and you can tell you are not actually frozen but moving at a pace so slow it seems like you are, or maybe it is the other way around and Naoya is moving so fast? Though how you can comprehend him must be one of his tricks .

In your distraction you do not notice Naoya placing his hands on you. Though you are surprised to feel that you can not feel his hands regardless.

Unhurried Naoya slides his hands between the folds of your cloths before fondling your rear and placing his hands directly against your skin as he pulls back to slap it harshly. You could see the slap but are unable to register the feeling.

"Did you know," He states. "That my technique for dealing with those curses is to be able to move at speeds that your monkey brain could not comprehend. Though considering your a bitch with some curse energy you can see me fine but are unable to react to it in time." He pulls his hands back to show you them.

You would have scratched your brows if you could trying to get how his words correlated with the weird time dilation you were placed in when you felt it. Your eyes widened minutely while staring at Naoya's hands while you felt those same hands grope your ass before hearing a harsh crack split the air and your feel the sharp pain and then burning heat that makes your stomach clench and hold spasm violently. All while watching those same hands in front of your face. Your eyes filling with horror as Naoya laughed gleefully in your ear.

"Now pet get ready for your punishment."

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You couldn't truly tell what was going on anymore. It had been some time since Naoya had started your "punishment", and he had you pinned to the floor spread eagle as he pounded your hole and your whines and screams filled the air. Though so delayed the Naoya could sit back and watch you spasm around nothing.

Even now as he was ramming into you the time dilation made it so that every time he pulled out you could feel him ramming inside from the past and vice versa. You were always full of him in that moment you were unable to even get a breath in to try and beg. Though he wouldn't hear it anyway to stop any time soon.

The disorientation of watching Naoya pull his cock from you and straddle your chest to thrust his cock into your mouth while moaning as fingers from the past played in your ass grinding against all your tender bits had you violently shaking and eyes rolling deep into your skull.

This torment continued for some time before Naoya seemed to notice a presence at the door. "Well pet it seems this will have to do for your punishment for now, I have other business to attend to and I can not have my pet distracting me while I work."

He got up leaving you physically while his past hands and dick continued to ravaged you. You felt like the very bitch he called you while you wear turned over into your knees by insistent ghostly hands and a cock rammed inside you while forcing your pelvis forward to grind your sensitive spots against the bamboo flooring. You cried desperately trying to crawl away from the sensation but it followed you relentlessly.

When you heard Naoya call for the person at the door to enter you tried to cry out in protest and shame for the servant to see you in this position. Only to be able to shriek in pleasure at that next grind of Naoya's past cock fills you up internally and forces you forward and into the bamboo again forcing you to come hazily eyes locked with the entering blank faced servant.

The servant gazes at you for only a moment though you could not tell if it was pry or disgust before dismissing you and turning towards Naoya. While yoir torment continued causing you to whine and pant as Naoya's past self continues to jack hammer into you ignoring that you had just come and was causing the overstimulation to climb steadily. You howled when calloused finger tips started to pinch and tug at your nipples.

The pleasure was so overwhelming that you could barely feel the shame while watching the two converse while writhing and humping the floor like a bitch in heat. You were violently twisted over and gagged with a phantom cock, that you vaguely recognized as the last position Naoya was in before being interrupted by the servant, just as your screams would have hit a crescendo in your orgasm and you had no control over your body and squirted violently and messily across the floor.

You passed out still sucking on the remnants of passed Naoya fluid dripping from every orifice before Naoya stood up from his desk. Without even glancing at the servant the man's head was removed from his body his blood spraying across the room.

"What a good show, pet. Though I find I'd prefer if it were only me to see it. We'll have to do any further punishments alone."

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Welp, we finally got part 2 done. You know almost a whole month after Felix's Birthday.

Hope it was worth the wait!

I apologize for any typos I'll go back and correct them eventually.

🦊

[iandores]

inspired by: ian lightfoot // onward ; morty smith // rick and morty ; nathan drake // uncharted ; neville longbottom // harry potter ; brian johnson // the breakfast club ;  will hunting // good will hunting ; robbie shapiro // victorious

wanted connections can be found here. 

full name iandore wilden lightfoot nickname(s) ian  age and zodiac twenty three / virgo hometown new mushroomton, oregon, usa current location elias, california, usa gender cis male sexuality foghorn noises pronouns he / him myers briggs isfj / the defender alignment true neutral  temperament melancholic traits dorky, selfless, kind, and awkward faceclaim t*m h*lland

past ;

* tw death and potential death mentions

ian’s bio can be found here.

ian moved to elias, california ( originating from new mushroomton, oregon ) with his older brother barley in february 2021 in search of the phoenix gem, a stone that holds the ability to bring back the lightfoot boys’ late father for one day. the catch is that they only have a certain amount of time to find the gem and complete the spell, and time is ticking fast. 

in the midst of ian and barley’s search, filled with months of dead ends and unanswered question, hades literally unleashed monsters onto the city of elias and ian was a beat down pretty badly during that mess ( we did this sort of dnd style and i kept rolling twos ... you do the math, friends ). this was an event that was a key marker in priority shifts. you start to think of things a little differently when you almost die. 

in the months following, barley settled into california life way more easily than ian did. the younger lightfoot recognized that easily as he struggled to 1) learn about his abilities and potential as a wizard, 2) continued to come up answerless when it came to the ticking time bomb that was the phoenix gem and .... potentially meeting the sprit of his dad, and 3) dealt with the aftermath of moving to a new state and almost immediately getting brutally attacked by a monster. ( there’s no one to blame here, just how the cards were dealt - but the disparity is probably what lead to the following events. )

ian was getting restless as they stayed too long in one spot, convinced that there was no way the gem was in elias if they hadn’t found it yet, but had gotten to the point where he felt bad asking barley to leave. ian had never seen his older brother so happy - he had found a place here with friends and a girlfriend - but they were on a time crunch and still on a mission, so ian made the decision to leave without his brother with the idea that barley could stay in his happy bubble in elias and ian would return once he found the gem. 

barley did not see ian’s departure the same way. this is something they’ve yet to hash out. 

present ;

ian’s been staying in new mushroomton for a few months with his mom and got a job at mantercorn tavern in attempt to find out more about the phoenix gem. when ian and barley first found out about the spell that would bring back their dad, they visited the tavern and ian always thought that there was some information being hidden there. 

he was right, because  - while he was originally mistaken by thinking the phoenix gem wasn’t in elias - he managed to find a map of the city that would point him directly to the mouse estate. the mayor was in possession of the phoenix gem the whole time.

in an intricate heist that probably took longer than it should have, after convincing his boss to let him train the staff at the new elias location of the bar, ian stole the map and is currently on a side quest to give it to barley. operation: get the phoenix gem is back in action. 

important: ian is currently working in elias on the weekends and new mushroomton on the weekdays to train staff in elias and still cover his shifts at home. he is currently only in elias friday afternoon through monday morning and goes home the rest of the week. 

future ;

coming soon to a theatre near you bc a bitch as no idea !  

connections ;

barley lightfoot - older brother

ariel nyström - waitress @ mantercorn tavern ( help wanted ! )

penelope hainline - oldest ( and best probably ) friend in elias 

sora reyes - new friend

nick wilde - future roommate 

more to come - let’s be friends !

[xxblossomx]

𓆩Ｌｉｔｔｌｅ Ｄｅｖｉｌ𓆪

☽ BASIC INFO ☾

Name: Akara Lilith Melania

Nicknames: Satan, Little Devil, or Raven

Age:  

Human: 20-23

Demon 780

Species: Demon

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Birthday: October 13th, 1297

Zodiac: Libra

Powers: The dark arts, Blood arts, and witchcraft

Nationality: Japanese

Ethnicity: Asian-Greek

Languages: Greek, Latin, English, and Japanese.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ PHYSICAL APPERANCE

Height: 5’5”

Weight: 126

Hair Color: Jet Black

Eye Color: Crimson red

Skin Color: Pale

Battle Marks (Scars, missing body parts, etc.): Has a few on her body, but prefers to let them be unknown

Tattoos: Raven wings with a crescent moon on her upper neck, behind her hair.

Clothing Style: Casual Medieval Gothic. Her clothing is close to what Zero wears, but more feminine.

She wears a black tank, that has no sleeves and has a high neck. It is tight against her upper body for battlefield purposes. Akara would have a red crop top like coat over the upper half. She has black shorts with a belt, leggings sat underneath and they were either dark blue or black. For her feminism, she has a red half skirt that laid on her left side. A set of black or red belts lock it in place around her hips.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ PERSONALITY ☾

Overall: Akara personality is the same as Zero’s but with bits that are never seen in him. She can be sassy and very annoyed with others. She

Positive Traits:

Persistent

Loyal

Flexible

Mature

Orderly

Upright

Neutral Traits:

Boyish

Competitive

Sarcastic

Stubborn

Unaggressive

Negative Traits:

Blunt

Difficult

Opinionated

Demanding

Greatest Fears: Unknown

First Impression: She can be a bit open when she first meets. She also tends to be very judgmental of others at first.

Default Expression: Akara has resting bitch face or a smirking look.

Habits: Likes to be sassy a lot.

Pet Peeves: Unknown

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ INTERESTS ☾

Likes: Witchcraft. Black cats, Roses, Blood, Raven's, Night time, reading and gothic themes

Dislikes: Supernatural Hunters, Sexist men, Bright themes, Surprises, Politics, and The bible.

Hobbies: Hunting for herbs, making potions or spells, training, and growing plants.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ MISCELLANEOUS ☾

Theme for Personality:  Splinter Wolf - Kohta Yamamoto

Theme for their story: 怪物(Monster) - YOASOBI

Social Media, if they had any: Instagram and Tumblr.

Typical Hours of sleeps: Eight to more. Tends to sleep in day time more then night though.

Worst nightmares: Unknown

Best Dream: Unknown

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ LIFE ☾

Occupation: traveling Witch/Stationed witch

Thoughts on occupation: She was fine with it since she could help others around, but also hated the lack of battles.

Dream Job: Unknown

Education: She learned bits from her mother, then soon became close friends of her mother.  

Past Relationships: She knew Zero when she was little, including his parents.

Family: Mother: Lilith Eve Melania

Hometown: Sparta, Greece

Current Residence: Athena, Greece

Housemates: Her gang, Sakura and her friends.

Financial Status: Unknown

Source of Money: Jobs for hire and selling herb medicine

Health: Fair, she doesn’t really get into fights nor battles. She does, however; will fight if needed.

History:

Birth/Childhood:  

Akara was born to her only parent, Lilith. She was born on October 13th, in the year 1296. Her birth was so difficult considering Award was too stubborn to come. When she was born, Akara looked like she was dead due to her pale skin. Zero's mother Ava was there for the delivery and to help Lilith. Zero ended up meeting her when he was three years of age. Akara and her mother would soon be around the Uzumoto's a lot and would let the children get to know each other. By the time Akara turned three, Zero was six. Akara would watch him train with his father on some days and others would be to learn about magic and witchcraft from her mother. Akara showed early signs of her abilities by the age of three.  

During that time, her mother went to make her a demon sword; since it was a custom for demon parents. Akara showed much in her witchcraft abilities and would go on to show the same in swordsmanship, she was able to use some of her witchery with her weapon just like Zero could.  

Her childhood was a bit of the unknown after this point. When she turned a year older than Zero turned eight. Both their worlds came crashing when Kratos came. The night when it happens, Lilith became very worried and ended up leaving her daughter with her friends; that were witches. Akara knew that her mother ran because she would have been next on Kratos killing list since she was a part of the Savior’s. She didn’t mind and just let her leave and seek safely.  Akara would continue her training with the witches in their home between the ages of five to ten years old.  

Pre-teen/Teenage/Young Adult:

When Akara became a pre-teen, her abilities began to show more than when she was younger. She would learn all types of witchcraft skills, including those that she wasn’t able to use herself. Which is good, so she knows what her enemy is using or going to use in a battle against her. She was very good at listening and learning so that it didn’t have to take over five years. When she had time to protect herself from witchcraft, she would train in her swordsmanship. She was able to complete her training by the age of fifteen.  

Akara wanted to leave her mother s fellow witches, to which she would. She became a traveling witch and would make medicine to anyone humans or other. She became known as the witch doctor by those she helped. Beyond her travels, she would soon meet Jace first. Jace was a bit different than she expected him to be at first, but she did like him. He was able to get her to laugh at his jokes, when he joked around. It lightens her mood. Both would travel together for a bit longer, soon meeting the other three.  

Akara views on Riza was a bit oddly, she judges her on how she flirted with everyone around her. Akara ended up calling her a lust manipulator, to which Riza was annoyed about it. Akara viewed Zash as an older, older brother who was a bit of a father figure for her. When she saw that Zero was with them, she was excited due to the fact of not seeing him for a long time. Zero didn’t even remotely remember Akara for a little bit, but soon realized it was her. Akara was very shocked he didn’t remember her, but then again; they both were so young. Akara and Zero would pretty much catch up more than the others, talking about what their lives were after the incident.  

Seeing that he was different from before, she felt bad for him. They all were very agreeable on staying together for a little while and travelling as a group. Akara felt amazing about it since she didn’t have to be alone. They were together for a good while before splitting. The only one that really left was Zero, due to him wanting to be alone. Everyone was a bit fine with it but knew that he left due to no leads knew Kratos.

 Adult/Current:

When Akara turned eighteen, she stopped aging. Making her purely immoral like the others. She was still with Zash, Riza, and Jace, living in a home that was on a temporary basis. This was in part due to Zero since he completely disappeared from then, but only Akara and Zash knew where he was.  

Zero trusted them more, even if the other two were trustable too. Akara felt the same way she did when her mother disappeared, she couldn't jump in against his choice. They all continue to find leads on Kratos afterwards, including traveling to the whereabouts of it's location. Akara was able to quit after the twentieth lead they've found, they were all met with dead ends. It became clear that if they wanted him, they needs to wait and see if Kratos showed up.

Akara and others made the choice to head for a kingdom, where the last lead was know to be. During this, the festival of the blooming blossoms was happening. They were so fascinated by it, that they joined in for the celebration, while Zash went to find leads.

Zash was able to learn a new lead, it immediately made him go to the others. Akara, Jace, and Riza were told; soon that they then went into combat mood. Zash sent out a messenger for Zero, sending him the information. Kratos was after a human and they had to get to her, before he did. Akara and Jace immediately went straight for the princess. But by the time they got there, kratos had attacked the kingdom.

Akara and Jace was able to get to the princess and her group, forcing Kratos from avenging onwards. Akara had to hold him off until Zero got there. Akara told then to escape, but non wanted to. Sky was very problematic as he started asking her "Who the hell are you?". She was pretty annoyed by this human male. Akara and Jace soon were left to protect the princess as she froze in placed due to Kratos.

While this was happening, Zero got the information and immediately headed there. Akara kept straight, waiting for Kratos to either attack or pull a move; to which he would. Before he could even get closer, Zero appeared before them all. Zash and Riza soon meet up afterwards. After the attack, Zero and them choose to stay. Even if Sky protest against it. If they weren't there, they would all be dead.

Afterwards, the tension between everyone became oddly. Zero and Sky hated each other for different reasons, the rest were pulled into the middle of it. Akara noticed that Sakura was starting to get close to Zero or at least be friendly with him. She would soon speak to her about how Zero would push her away, but that didn't stop Sakura. Akara support her with her feelings and started to like her, they both were polar opposites of each other. Sky on the other hand, didn't like it and would try his darn hardest to stop Sakura for feeling that's at towards Zero. It was like a battlefield with a love triangle in the middle.

Akara ended up catching feelings for Sky, but would soon deny it. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

☽ OTHER ☾

Stats (10 of 10)

Confidence: 8/10

Strength: 9/10

kindness: 7/10

Self-Esteem: 10/10

Neatness: 10/10

Agilify: 10/10

Persuasiveness: 4/10

Gullibility: 6/10

Luck: 8/10

Dexterity: 10/10

Constitution: 8/10

Intelligence: 8/10

Temper: 10/10

Wisdom: 5/10

Charisma: 10/10

Weapons: Katana: Night-Blood.

Other weapons: Thin needles, daggers, and spells

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Abilities:

𓆩Demon Abilities𓆪:

Demonic form: Sorceress of the Night.

Form look: Her hair is longer, length is to her legs. A black witches hat covers the top. A medium crescent moon brooch wit a chain rested around the seam.

Blood Magic: The user is able use a form of magic that allows them to cast magical spells related to blood.

The user is able to use Blood Magic in two ways: to gain access to (esoteric/mystic/magical) blood-based powers/abilities (E.g., Blood Manipulation) or to cast spells that require or are related to blood (E.g., an astral projection spell or healing spell).

Limitations: The spell can last on O blood for a hour, AB blood for 30 minutes, B blood for 20 minutes, and A blood for 10 minutes. If the user can gain more blood then the amount of each, can make the spell last longer.

Binding: User is able to use supernatural powers/traits that bind, imprison, paralyze and/or otherwise stop targets moving normally and possibly completely freezing them where they were. It can be achieved using various means including energy-based or physical restrains or mental effects.

Limitations: Binding can break by enemies that knew about to break them. Bindings also will break if one or both that is binded dies.

Abilities: Caging and restraining.

Limitations: Users of Freeing and Unfixed Movement cannot be bound. Depending on the way used to bind the victim, they may be able to overpower/break their bindings. Users of Teleportation/Intangibility can escape. May be unable to generate the ways to bind and be limited to existing material. May have to stay close to the victim or the binding may break.

Freeing: The user can free themselves or others from being bound, chained, shackled, imprisoned, caged, etc. by binding powers whether mental, physical, spiritual, etc., setting oneself/others free from whatever method is being used to bind them, and keep one from being shackled or tethered to something.

Limitations: Some binds may be too strong to break free from. May require concentration. May have to stay close to the bound person to free them.

Abilities: Sealing and Omni-Cleansing

Curse Magic: The user can use magic relating to curses.

Limitations: Anti-Magic and Blessing Magic can be used against it to stop it.

⊱Witch Abilities⊰

Spelling Casting: The act of changing and controlling events through the use of incantations, ritual and more by magical influence.

Limitations: Only can be use close to the person or thing that is close by or a mile away.

Spiritual Sensing: The ability to feel spiritual activity.

Limitations: Can feel her enemies spiritual self-nearby or are close by. But cannot feel it if they placed a sell to block her from sensing them.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Do you still write elder scrolls? If so may I ask serana 9 with reader receiving and maybe with her drinking blood from the reader but only if you're comfortable of course or 15 and 23? Thank you ^○^

Oh heeeeell yeah I'm always down to write to write for Serana, I think about the missed opportunity bitch-thesda had making her one of the few npcs that had actual development that I wanted to marry in the game... but that's what mods are for I guess 😔

Day 9: biting

Cw: Vampire related blood drinking, if this is a topic that makes you uncomfortable please feel free not to read any further. Also reader isn't directly stated to be the dragonborn, but is very lightly implied.

(This work includes: gender neutral!reader)

(NSFW under the cut as always)

Hunger ebbed at her, it had been so for months. Being a Vampire Lord, unlike with most regular vampires, she can store and surface her bloodlust for very long periods of time. While there was the set back that with not being fully fed meant she wasn't at her full strength and hasn't been so since before she awakened. Now even after all this time being asleep, defeating her father, and traveling around on adventures with adventures with you was she just now reached her limit and was approaching starvation.

She has... a complicated relationship with being a vampire, of course. Before, feeding, while not being enjoyable, it wasn't necessary a set back - do it to survive only to escape the further fears of reuniting with Molag Baal in the 'afterlife' - but now... now she has she has more human companions she's grown to care about since back then. She has you in an equal complicated relationship, she's... scared to do it now, what if she loses herself and accidentally hurts you - becoming no better than one of those monsters you hunt? It scares her to death what she could unwillingly do to you.

Your touch feels so coming and loving against her skin that her dead heart sings for more it. Through humanly teary eyes she watches your soft smile as you pull her gently down into your kiss, your fingers intertwined with brunette hair as you kiss her deeply and throughly. Even if she doesn't need breath, she craves for it, you take her breathlessly that shakes her worries and when she pulls away her eyes dart in fifty different places as her lips gape for words.

"I don't... trust myself." She admits. "It's in my nature to go too far - I don't-"

"Look at me, Serana." Her bright eyes find it hard with tension to meet yours but finds herself not having a choice when your warm yet battle-roughened hands flush against her cold cheeks to make her turn her head to look down upon you.

"It's quite alright," your voice hums to her. "-after everything we've been through together and all the dangerous hoards we've slayed, I think I have a hunch I can deal with a but more blood loss and besides I... want to do this for you."

"(Name)," Her voice was so gentle, so damming that at any moment she could just easily tear down and just break. You lay back, your naked sweaty - from previous sexually charged activity - body sinking into the old inn bedsheets several towels behind your head on the pillows. Serana's eyes subconsciously trail to your chest up to your throat, your heartbeat loud in her ears. You tilt your head to give out your neck more, heavy needy breath rocking out from your lips.

"Serana," you plea. Your hands travel to her shoulders and give the tight muscle a squeeze for reassurance before wrapping them around her to gently pull her closer yet giving her enough room to give her an out if she really does want to. Yellow eyes met your own while the last few thoughts settle into her mind, before you know it she's adjusted herself so she's holding your hands on the back of her head.

"It might hurt... but if gets too much and I'm not stopping, pull me off. No matter how much I'm in you, get me off with every bit of strength and do whatever you have to. Make sure I'm off you and you can stop the bleeding as much as you can." You give her a nod which seemingly calms her nerves. After a few more kissing moments, her warm breath is fanning over your shoulder and her teeth is body shiveringly scraping gently against your flesh.

While it does at first hurt the moment fangs enter their way into and breaking through your flesh, however, unlike what you've been told whether it be through travelers in taverns or the Dawnguard; the hellish experience of having your blood taken but you rather find the experience... pleasant with the warm rush and body tingles it brings you.

Best phrase you could think of describe it being is its like your soul you can physically feel being sucked off.

Your hands do what you were instructed to and don't let go of your love's head, just in case things make a turn, however you find it bringing one problem: you can't reach down and feel at where your pleasure is at it's highest between your legs, having to depend on squeezing and continuingly readjusting your thighs to add just enough friction to your throbbing sex. Next to her you pant and whine as you listen to every drink of you she makes right blew your ear.

"Sh-shit," you curse, your fingers tightening on her head as some sort of ground to hold on to but you find her eyes darting to meet yours. "I'm fine, I promise." She hums radiating through your body that gets your legs to tightly clamp together.

"I need - need s-some-"

You practically scream when her hand mischievously finds its way scaling down your body and diving between your legs. You stutter out noisea of incoherence the moment her long fingers find their way to grab ahold and pump around/inside you fucking you nice and slow. Your breath is uneasy as you lay back and stare up at the ceiling. You feel light headed, from the blood loss or pleasure your not sure but it's the first you're aware of the warm seeping and spilling down your neck and shoulder most definitely staining bedsheets below. You didn't even want to think about offering up an explanation to the innkeeper. Honestly pleasure made it easy not to and not giving a damn at the moment.

It's easy to come like this. So easy that you do so very loudly; your grip so tight on the vampires head that you dug her down even deeper while you scream your love for her. The last part, you didn't realize you even did but Serana more than enough hears.

Your bones liquify the moment Serana detaches herself from you, her teeth leaving a little sting behind as a goodbye that gets one last moany shake from you.

Good. That felt very good. But what made it all even more better was the sight it left you with: Serana hovering over you with her face dirted and messy with your blood with a bright almost cat-like awareness in her eyes, speaking of which that don't leave you for a second most likely having a very mutual feeling about how you look in this bloody afterglow. You smile as your body dips from the adrenaline and your limbs suddenly feel heavy but you fight through it so your hands can could to wipe at her lips.

"I never figured you the type to be the messy eater, love."

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@terrariumtypings

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[louis-the-french-one]

Dean Winchester x gender neutral reader

Type : fluff, comfort

Relation : not specified

Summary : You have a panic attack and Dean helps you

Request ? Yes

Warnings : panic attack, self-hatred, bit of swearing

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You had just come back to the bunker after a week long hunt, Sam had find a case about a vampire nest, a simple hunt, and still Dean and Sam almost died, and you blamed yourself for it.

Entering the bunker you went straight for your room not wanting to see the disappointment and anger on Sam and Dean's face.

"You weren't paying attention, why weren't you paying attention, you always fuck things up " You kept repeating in your head on your way to your small room next to Dean's. Getting in you went straight for the floor knowing what was about to happen, you could feel the fear taking over, the panic, keeping you from breathing properly. And the tears, they started rolling down your cheeks. Suddenly you saw your reflection in a mirror next to your bed and now all you felt was was anger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N ! They could've died ! Sam and Dean could've died! And it would have been your fault ! It's always your fault! Fucking idiot ! Can't even beat a damn vampire ! Seriously why the hell did you think it was a good idea becoming a hunter, I bet they hate you now... Sam and Dean hate you... " And that was it, the thought of them hating you was just too much, you couldn't breathe anymore, you were there, alone on the floor, suffocating.

That's when Dean came in, he had been looking for you, knowing how the hunt affected you. After all these years he knew you too well to just leave you alone with your feelings. Not bothering to knock on your door he entered and felt his heart break, seeing you, Y/N, crying and suffocating on the floor, he hated that. He went straight to you, kneeling down in front of you.

"Hey ! Hey Y/N look at me it's okay ! " He took you in his arms slowly.

"I'm sorry, Dean I'm so sorry!"you managed to say between short breaths, seeing him made you feel a little better but soon the thought of the hunt came back and you cried even more.

"It's okay, hey, look at me! breath with me ! " Raising your chin to make you look at him he then took your hand and began breathing slowly, you imitated him. Your breath getting slower and slower.

After a few minutes of holding his hand and looking him in the eyes, you felt better and you both went to sit on your bed,none of you saying a thing. You were the first to talk again.

"You could've died, you could've died and it's my fault" You said softly, looking at your feet too scared to look him in the eyes.

Dean couldn't believe what he just heard, how could Y/N blame themselves, it wasn't their fault , one vampire just happen to hid under the ground to attack them by behind, who could have guessed.

"Don't say that! It wasn't your fault, if it has to be someone's fault it would be mine, I'm supposed to be the most experienced here, I should've seen it coming... " He said while turning to look at you.

"It IS my fault ! I always fuck things up ! I'm the worst hunter, seriously, I'd understand if you want me to leave... " You felt the tears coming back until Dean took your hand in his.

"Y/N, listen to me, you are one of the best hunters I know, every monster know better than to bother you, I hear them all saying " Fuck it's Y/N ! They're the best hunter in this country!We're all gonna die! " He then proceeded to do a small girl's scream making you both laugh.

"Now you're making that up ! " You looked at him still laughing.

"Maybe... who cares ! " He shrugged.

There was a silence for a few minutes, but it wasn't awkward, it was reassuring.

"Thank you" You suddenly said .

"Aah it's nothing " He said squeezing your shoulder.

"No seriously Dean, thank you" You insisted.

"It's okay, you do the same for me" You two hugged.

"Now let's go get some food I'm really hungry " He said getting up.

"You're always hungry Dean" You joked.

You then both joined Sam in the kitchen, he had already set up a meal for you three, it was your favorite food, and you realised maybe they don't hate you after all.

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I'm back with the fics bitches ! Hope you liked it !

Reminder that English is NOT my first language.

[reaperintheroses]

Temple

Winchester brothers (separate) x reader  

A/N: Basically just how the Winchester brothers would react to you not taking care of yourself while you are researching for a hunt. Gender neutral reader.

Dean:

Oh honey you’ve been working on a completely ridiculous hunt that feels like a wild goose chase 

You can’t seem to find any information and once you do the monster throws another ability at you that completely derails the research that you’ve been doing for the past few weeks

You decided you were going to hang out and read in your room

You needed the change of scenery and the reception in your room was better

See the funny thing was though

You do this tiny little thing

Where when your working on a particularly hard case you completely forget to check the time and ignore your body’s needs

So you went into full nesting research mode

What does this entail you might ask?

Surviving off energy drinks and the occasional granola bar

Not healthy reader take care of yourself please and thank you

And Dean seems to agree with me

As he should

But he’s also thrown himself headfirst into the bunker library to figure this bitch out

*cough* hypocrite *cough cough*

But its maybe two, three days and you still haven’t really left your room 

He starts to notice that he hasn’t seen you in a decent amount of time

He doesn’t know how long it is either tbh

So he starts to look for you

After maybe twenty minutes of searching around the bunker, he returns to the library sans (y/n)

He starts looking around the library

He’s smart when he wants to be but he still has his blond moments

Finally, sam points out that you’re probably in your bedroom

So dean goes to knock and sees the freaking mess around you of energy drinks and maybe two granola bars

And completely 

Freaks 

The 

Fuck

Out

Idk why but I feel like dean is sometimes a neat freak

Like when you get those random bursts of energy to clean your room

He immediately starts to pick up the monster cans that collectively probably took off 5 years of your life

As he’s in the middle of holding like 5 cans he realizes how absolutely recked you look

He’s mad

Like not mad at you mostly

Just mad that he didn’t notice

So he immediately pulls you up from where you’re slumped over your desk like a lion would pick up its child

You don’t even protest

He just throws you into the bathroom before abandoning the cans and following you

He turns on your shower and just looks at you with a glance that says business

You nod at the look

You start to strip while he shuts the door and goes back to cleaning

You leave the shower like 20 minutes later to a clean room and a sticky note with a terrible drawing of a stack of pancakes that made you laugh 

You get dressed and walk into the kitchen where Dean was making your breakfast

He gives you a long lecture over your first real meal in days about how taking care of yourself is important and you needed to do better

The entire time he just glares at you in hypocrisy 

Sam:

Research is fucking hard

And sam knew that

But he also loved you

And seeing you push yourself that hard always pained him

But based on his past college experiences he knows that sometimes just locking yourself away is the only way to get something done

You had been researching about ghosts for the brother’s upcoming hunt for a few days now

There had been some pretty violent and vengeful ghosts in a small town a few hours away

This hunt had been offered to you by some fellow hunters because this apparently wasn’t a simple salt and burn

They tried everything and the ghosts just wouldn’t stay dead

And of course, you took one look at the information they sent you before taking a copy of everything they knew already and walked to your room

You scrounged the internet for anything you could find on the ghosts and you didn’t stop digging until there was nothing new to find

Once you had all your information you started piecing it together

You had a huge cork board where you would tack things up at mark each piece of information with a different color that helped you piece together the case

All the while you’re making the boys secret identities

Making their identities required you to look and make sure that there weren’t already agents with their names that could easily be googled

And then you had to put the two of them in the database and make everything look official

It honestly was a piece of work that took you a few days

The entire time you aren’t looking at how long has passed since you holed up in your room

Spoiler alert it’s been a hot minute

Such a smoking minute in fact Sam gets concerned and breaks away from his own personal prep for the hunt to come check on you 

And he’s concerned with what he finds

Impressed

But concerned 

So he shuts your laptop on you to have you explain what you found 

Mostly to get your eyes away from your computer 

Also to learn the information

But mostly for your wellbeing

After your done, you move to go back to your laptop 

He pulls a ‘Nah bitch you thought’

And stands in front of your desk

You’re very unimpressed and pull a bitch face 

He gives you the sam Winchester original that says he doesn’t care before he unplugs your laptop and picks it up

Tells you that you can have it back later after you change, shower, and eat

your #unimpressed

So you change 

Figuring you can shower before you sleep 

You walk to the kitchen expecting to just grab a fast snack and go back to your room and keep working with the info you have

Enter Chef Sammy making you a grilled cheese

You are quite surprised 

At his prompting, you sat down 

You gratefully accept the grilled cheese and finish it within a few minutes

You start talking more about the hunt 

He quickly silences you

Brain break™

He starts talking about a book that he was reading recently and how he thought you would really like the plot

You just listen to his voice and agree once your grilled cheese is gone that you would love to borrow the book from him

You end up showering and taking a 5-hour nap

And when you awake there’s a book on your desk along with your laptop that just says 

“Take care of yourself, please”

[fandomnerdespressourself]

If you think it’s love

Category: Fluff, Angsty asf, GN.Reader

Warnings: (っ∩_∩)っsoft , bad words, deep?, feelings, death, and blood

Gender neutral - I'm trying to keep my fix for all. If you see any mistakes pls tell me thank chu and enjoy. ^_^

Castiel x Reader

I can't stop loving you, my feelings somehow grow more. Each second, minute, hour, day, whether you're close or far, my love for you will never burn out. Love is to be said as ethereal, both heavenly and beautiful, but also destructive.

 Castiel ran behind y/n throughout the bunker, the boys were out for an errand. Once he reached them he wrapped his arms around them and lifted them up slightly spinning them both. At that moment y/n squealed feeling Castiel’s arms around them, a soft giggle left their lips. Once he set them down on their feet and turned them around they stared into each other's eyes. Ocean blue eyes on warm hot chocolate ones. Y/N put a hand on his cheek softly caressing it before moving their hand behind his ear to play with his soft hair. Cas stared down at y/n lovingly, he closed his eyes feeling comfort and warmth. He opened his eyes for a brief moment just to lean down and capture their lips with his own.

All of you that’s is you, keeps luring me in a way I can’t stay away no matter what. If I was able to find a way to stay away... My heart and soul will find a way to make it back to you. It'll always go back to you.

Castiel and y/n laid in bed cuddling, Cas drew small nothings on y/n’s exposed skin from their lower back. Soft music played in the background as the two couples enjoyed the calm, relaxing, and peaceful atmosphere. Castiel opened his eyes when a specific song came, he got up to put the volume up just a tad bit. Y/N stared at him confusingly thinking why did he move from their comfortable position. Cas then turned around and looked into their eyes holding his hand out for them,”d-do you..would you wan-.. doyouwannadancewitheme?” he asked, fumbling with his words at first before saying the question he wanted to ask quickly. A small but deep blush dusted on Cas’s cheeks. Y/n looked at him surprised and nodded. Y/N sat up gently taking his hand. Cas pulled them up carefully as if they’d break and pulled them close to him. Y/N chuckled softly as they noticed Cas struggling with where he should put his hands. Y/N moved them to their waist as the other held their hand. Y/N stepped closer and soon began to move, Cas quickly followed, both moved at a slow pace. In the middle of the song, y/n let go of Cas’s hand and laid their head against his chest. Cas looked down at them and moved his hand to their waist, pulling them closer. Their bodies were so close to each other, hardly any gap around. The pace didn’t speed up nor slowed more than it already was, it was the same pace. They both danced in peace and relaxed in y/n’s room while “It’s you by Henry playing in the background.”

I can't keep my gaze away from your beautiful eyes. How they bore deep into my eyes touching my soul every second within a minute. My gaze into your eyes turns into a soft admiring stare, I see my stars and Galaxies... My world in your soul. A whole perspective that is all you, so damn mesmerizing.

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed staring at the ground as he heard y/n walking back and forth. Soon he heard nothing he looked up and saw their hurt eyes staring at him as if he had kicked a puppy in front of them. “No explanation on why you’re leaving me?” they asked. Cas chewed the inside of his bottom lip before standing up, “I can’t tell you, as much as I'd like to I can’t I’m sorry I just want to pro-”

 “No don’t give me that! you know full well I can protect myself Castiel, whatever it is I can handle it-’

 “I never said you couldn't I just don’t want to put you in danger-”

 “My life is always in constant danger! I hunt monsters for g-”

“ I LOVE YOU OKAY... i- I can’t lose you,” he said, y/n stared at him in shock that was the first time they've heard I love you for him and the last. After a few seconds of quietness Castiel had to go, he went up to them and tried to kiss their forehead but y/n moved away and didn’t look at him. Castiel was hurt at their actions, but he understood, he looked at them for a small moment before walking out. Y/n stared at the wall closing their eyes as they heard the door close. After two minutes of just standing there in silence, their walls crashed down. Their emotions hit them like a tsunami, they grabbed a framed picture of Castiel and them before hurling it to the door. They sat down on the bed and slide down onto the ground crying.

I can't keep my touch away from yours

It brings me warmth, comfort, and protection.

I can't help but stare at you and I realize we aren't that different from each other as I see your soul from the outside.

Y/n poked their food with their fork, listening to Sam and Dean discuss a case up in Michigan. They played around with their food before looking up to see the brothers staring at them, worried and concern etched on their faces. “Sorry, what happened?”, y/n asked. Sam gave them a small smile, "we were just discussing the case over at Michigan. You up for it?" Y/n thought for a moment and nodded, "yeah, I'm down for it." After a few minutes, Sam's and Dean’s conversation resumed and y/n again was lost in thought, poking at their food. Dean looked over his eyebrows furrowed a bit, "okay, what's up?" Y/n looked up shaking their heads before mumbling that nothing was wrong, that they were just not hungry. Dean gave them a weird look once he heard their response, Sam's expression deepened in concern. Just as they were about to question them, y/n gave them a look to not ask, Sam and Dean understood tried their best to carry on their conversation occasionally looking over at y/n. After 5 minutes y/n mumbled a quick excuse me, they got up and put away their plate knowing that later one they would probably want it later.

Everything that is you shines so brightly as the stars do in the galaxy. As crazy it may sound, they lead me out into the light where you stand.

You're my candle. You’re the key out of this disaster my mind has created to prison me. We live in different worlds, with not much to say, every day is a storm that can make us stronger, but as we are apart and time passes it makes us weaker. Weaker in a way that our connection is fading, but will still faintly remain there. There's no way of knowing if it's the start of sunrise or if the midnight moon is up in the sky, for It's always dark. In an endless sea that drifts lost souls further apart, until they sink and disappear.

Sam, Dean, and y/n walked into an abandoned warehouse. Many in the town have reported sulfur smells and strange occurrences happening along with many going missing. Dean gave some signals motioning for Sam to go straight while y/n went to the right and Dean to the left. They all separated and searched the building. Gun in hand ready to shot, y/n’s eyes scanned the building before they were hit hard in the back of their heads making them fall unconscious. A soft groan escaped their lips as they regained consciousness. They heard their names being called and looked up with a slightly blurry vision of Sam and Dean asking them if they were okay. All three were tied up to a chair, y/n nodded slowly, their chin was then grabbed roughly pulling it upwards. A blurry figure came to view, they knew it was a demon. "Tsk you are my key to get your pathetic boyfriend down here." Y/n pulled their head back before thrusting their head forward headbutting the demon, "You bitch. Maybe I should speed up the process, gag them up we're about to have some fun with y/n." Screams began to echo throughout the warehouse as Sam and Dean moved in their chairs trying desperately to break free from that chains that were holding them down.

Warm hands, bodies together

Sleepless, restless nights

It's like it's a parallel universe, but it's not. It's not because we live in the same world, just different life and doings without you.

Although I love you, I fight battles within.

We all do, but I struggle to stay up

Sam and Dean looked down at Castiel with Y/n in his arms not knowing what to do. Castiel held them in his arms, the sight of his loved one was breaking him in so many unimaginable ways the pain so intense. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't even heal them. His grace had been through so much it had weakened. He tried his best to press down on their bleeding injury it was the best and only option he could do for now. Y/n had looked into his watery ocean blue eyes before looking down to see their injury, more tears streamed down their faces now realizing what it meant. Their condition was critical, there was no way they'd be getting out of here with them alive. Even now when the angel had killed all the demons in the warehouse. Y/n looked over at the two brothers, “take care of each other for me okay. It was fun hunting with you guys. Everything will be okay.” Sam and Dean knew best then to say something, Sam had tears streaming down his face, Dean was holding them in with a solemn expression. Y/n attention then moved over to the angel, their left hand reached up Castiel's face as their hand shook, "hey...l-look at me. I- it's okay." Their voice was shaky and getting weaker by the seconds. They slightly shifted and moaned in pain, they had to hurry, it was getting harder to breathe. "Castiel... take care of yourself for me okay, take care of Dean and Sam too. Don't feel guilty about this, it isn't your fault I know how you think. So much guilt on your shoulders I- ... You're strong and enough." A painful dry cough broke the silence afterward. Y/n looked into Castiel's eyes one last time before their hand fell as she whispered, 'I love-', ..but they never got to finish. Their warm hot chocolate eyes were now dull and lifeless. He pressed down on their injuries trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use.. they were gone. His tears fell before shutting his eyes tightly wishing it was all a dream that he'd wake up and they'd still be here.. but as soon as he opened his now blue stormy eyes it had truly dawned to him that it was real and it wasn't a dream. His shoulders shook as harsh sobs echoed off the walls of the warehouse. The brothers flinched as they heard their best friend’s painful sobs.

They break me as I go into the shallow, only to be pulled in more and walk deeper in. Surrounded by the darkness, under a faint faint light far away you, you will see me, in my misery bringing myself down

Laughter echoed off the walls of the bunker’s kitchen, Dean was telling a story about a bar incident that happened back three weeks ago. Cas and Sam were laughing their asses off while Dean chuckled taking a sip of his beer. The night was wearing thin, Sam had gone to bed hours ago, Dean held his beer bottle upside down for a second to see if he had finished it. He glanced over at Castiel before standing up and picking up the mess mostly made by him. He walked over to Castiel and patted his shoulder making sure if he was okay. Castiel looked up giving Dean a small smile, “I’m heading to bed man, don’t stay up too late.” He patted his shoulder before walking out of the kitchen and to the hallways that take him to his room. Cas glanced around after half an hour and stood up. he cleaned the remaining of the mess, turned off the lights, and walked down the same hallways dean had to go to his room. Right as he was about to open his door he looked over to the side. Soon he found himself standing in front of y/n’s door, a room that hasn’t been touched for over two years. Cas reached for the doorknob and twisted it, right as he was about to push it open he stopped himself. He shook his head a somber expression took over his features. He released the doorknob and walked back to his room, taking a deep breath he closed the door releasing the air, and headed to bed.

You will see me, in my misery...

[give-jack-a-lightsaber]

Borrowed (Chicago PD x Officer!Reader)

A/N: Hi again to those few people that pull through my fics when my lazy ass decides to write (lol♥) and hello to newcomers who stumbled with me haha. It’s my first time trying to write a gender neutral reader!! so please if you see something that is grammarly incorrect feel free to let me know (and also please remember that english is not my main language). I struggled with the ending and the title so sorry about that ): 

Warnings: blood, death.

Word counter: 1903.

The room was silent. Every member of the Intelligence Unit was staring at the board where seven photos of seven different people were under the title of 'VICTIMS'.

But the hardest part was that they knew who was responsible. They even had the monster in interrogation, taunting them, always almost confessing. Almost.

They watched him walk out, making eye contact with every one of them with a smile on his ugly and perverted face.

Not. Enough. Evidence.

"Okay enough moping around" says Voight from the door of his office. "I'm not waiting for another call to inform me that there's a new body. We know how he acts, how he chooses the victims, what are his preferences, where he hunts. What do we need?"

"To be one step ahead of him" replies Atwater.

"Exactly. Someone call Platt up here, I have an idea and I hope it's last one we will need" order the Sargent and started to explain the plan to his unit.

---------

"What do you need Hank? Sorry for the delay, today is a bit crowded downstairs" asked Platt from the top of the stairs.

"I need to borrow one of your officers, if that's okay with you" answered Voight.

"Every time some of you said that sentence to me it ended with my patrol officer working up here, if you promise me to give her or him back to me at the end I'll bring you my big guns" joked Trudy. "Someone especial?".

"It's for an undercover gig, so they need to look similar to this victims" he explained while showing her the photos.

"I have someone in mind already, I'll send them right up".

--------

A knock on the door pull the sargent out of his mind and signaled the officer to come in.

"Hi sir, I'm officer Y/N Y/L/N. Sargent Platt send me here but she didn't say much, there's something I can do for you?".

"Yes please take a sit, I'll fill you in what's the issue here".

After talking the details about the case and the suspect, Voight saw his team back from the assignments he had ordered and went to present to them his last hope.

"Team, this is officer Y/L/N and hopefully the end of this son of a bitch" commented the grey haired man.

Everyone was stunned silent for a few seconds, eyes trailing to the board and back to the first responder in front of them.

"Oh wow, I-I really see the resemblance" said Y/N watching the photo of a particular victim that was an almost carbon copy of the patrol officer. "It was the first victim you guys found right? Uhm sorry, it must be really hard".

"Yeah it is but thank you for coming" said Kim shaking their hand. "I'm sorry for asking but I don't really remember you from when I was patrolling, are you new?".

"I'm kinda new in this district, in a few months it will be two years but I also work on other place in daylight so I take all the night shifts I can here so, I don't see much of anyone" Y/N joked and surprisingly bringed a smile on the unit members face.

They hadn't smiled since they caught this case.

---------

"Okay, I want you to go through everything again. Go" ordered Voight.

"Entering the club looking a bit self-conscious but not to much, looking around a bit and going straight to the bar.  Looking at the door and my phone then act like if I got stood up. Act a little tipsy but not drunk" Y/L/N listed, just like they have been practicing all afternoon until it was time to leave.

"What's your distress signal?" asked Halstead.

"What about... Popcorn?" they asked.

"Sounds pretty good to me" answered Adam with a half smile while finished testing the hidden microphone and camera.

"Hey remember that none of us can get in the club without tip him off, he know all of us but you so if you don't like something you call it early. It's a really private club and even with a badge it'll take us a beat to get in" said Voight looking very serious.

"Don't worry sir, I know I'm in good hands and I promise you that I will give my best to end this for good" Y/N smiled reassuringly at them.

--------

Just like they planned, the monster had settled his attention towards the undercover patrol officer that now was sitting in a bar stool nursing the second beer of the night.

It was a waiting game now. That took an hour and a half, one more beer that was "accidentally" spilled and a tequila shot, but he finally made his move.

Y/N was good. Every piece of information they have gathered about this guy was being used carefully but also effectively.

"If you want I can show you around. I  know this place can be a bit intimidating on your first time here but I promise you, it gets so much better" he proposed. Got him.

"Yeah please, if it's not bother. I'm really trying new things but I'm kind of a introvert and-it's just really hard sometimes" Y/N half smiled him, "I really appreciate this".

They walk through the club, crossing the most weirdest, grossest and explicit zones until they got to a hallway full of rooms.

"And here we have the bedrooms" he presented, "I'll show you my favorite, everytime I'm here I use this one. I bought it so no one can use it and I can come here whenever I want. It's like my lucky charm".

"Okay everyone, be prepared" said Voight through the radio from his car outside the club. "I can feel we are close but Y/L/N's safety is objective number one".

"Wow t-this is... " Y/N stammered looking around the room, plastic covers were on the bed, couch, floor, walls... Except the ceiling. "Uhm, unique".

"Yeah it is" he smiled darkly locking the door and looking through a drawer that was next to it.

"Uhm do-do you smell that?" the officer asked walking backwards while looking for something to use as defense.

"Smell what?" The murderer asked putting on some gloves and searching for his hunting knife, still giving his back to his soon to be victim.

"Maybe it's my imagination but it smelled like popcorn for a second". Distress signal sended and received.

"Move! Now!" barked Voight through the radio while pulling out his gun and running towards the door.

"You look so much like someone I used to know" he said finally turning around and locking eyes with the officer that was now almost pressed to the opposite wall of the room. "Huh, I guess you kinda find out what I like to do here".

"The plastic covers were a bit much but with those gloves and the knife you just confirmed it" Y/N gulped, keeping the pen hidden from his vision.

"Wow by now all the people I brought here was shitting and pissing themselves, even after I gutted them" he mused walking slowly towards them. "Still, this is a nice surprise. I love when they put a little fight, very entertaining".

"Yeah well if you want entertainment we can go through all the training from the academy" Y/L/N smiled smugly at him when his face dropped, "I know it from memory".

"NOO!" he raged and run at the police officer with his knife but in retail getting stabbed in his arm with a pen, making him drop the hunting knife.

Hard punches swinged from both sides, all meeting their ultimate objectives. After a few nasty ones, the fight continued on the floor with the unfortunate overcome of the serial killer who was now on the top of the officer almost strangling them.

A commotion could be heard in the distance, distracting the assailant enough for the law enforcer to reach the knife and stab him in the guts, twice.

"I ended you" Y/N said to him, through gritted teeth and looking him in the eyes.

But... He smiled. That now bloody and perverted smile appeared and then an excruciating pain on the neck that sent an almost electric shock through their entire body.

The door was flunged out of its place and the Intelligence Unit barreled behind, spotting two people laying in a growing pool of blood. Their suspect with a knife in the abdomen and their colleague... With a pen stabbed in their neck, slowly chocking with the pouring blood.

"Oh God, call an ambulance right now! Request all the patrol cars, firetrucks, whatever the hell is available to clear the traffic towards the Chicago Med!" Voight yelled while going straight to his officer and putting pressure on the wound. "Hey kid, hold on okay? Help is coming".

"Hey Y/L/N come on, I owe you that beer so you ain't going anywhere okay?" said shakily Jay taking their bloody hand.

"W-we e-end it-t" Y/N chocked out, spitting accidentally a bit of blood into some of their clothes, looking at the team and then straight to the Sargent eyes.

"What do we have?" asked the paramedics as they entered the room, requesting a second ambo but rushing towards the officer who's condition was more critical.

"We need to leave right now!" yelled the paramedic loading the stretcher in the ambo and closing the doors.

"Halstead, Atwater and Rojas go behind, clear everything in your path, that ambo gets to the hospital in time record" barked Voight, turning around to look at the half dead criminal. "You and I are going to have a chat".

---------

It's been an hour since patrol officer Y/N Y/L/N was wheeled in through the door of the Chicago Med. The waiting room is full of blues. One could though that a big name, a big charge is in the operation room right now... But no.

It's a colleague. A pair. A friend.

Dr. Halstead approached the waiting room joined with Maggie after treating the wounded officer. Clearing his throat to gain the attention and quiet the whispers, he informed them.

"I'm so sorry to inform you that officer Y/L/N didn't make it" sighed Will. "When they got here the blood loss was tremendously big but the second we had to take the pen out was impossible to recover. They didn't gave up quickly, Y/N wanted to keep fighting but the body couldn't anymore. I'm sorry guys".

"And when you can please, pass by the nurse station or just look for me if you know a family or significant other phones so we can contact them" said Maggie with a sad smile, leaving them to mourn their family in peace.

Slowly the law enforcers went back to their duties with a heavy heart but pleased with the rumors about Voight having taken care of the son of a bitch responsible for their loss.

The last ones to left were the Intelligence Unit. They catched the bad guy, the case was solved but it didn't felt like a win. Every one of them felt guilt, rage, sadness in one big wave that made them spechless all the ride to the precint and while they dressed in their formal blues preparing for the funeral.

District 21 didn't won that day.

[make-me-imagine]

Maze of Horrors

🎃13 Days of Halloween: Day 13

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Prompts: “Don’t Touch Me” “I Didn’t”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Gender: Neutral        Triggers: Ghosts, Fighting, etc

Theme: Mostly Humor with some Action/Angst

Note: Happy Halloween!! I hope you enjoyed the series so far. And I know I already did this prompt a few days ago with Eddie/Venom, but it was the only request I had a good enough idea for. So I hope you like it. Note 2: Thank you all for submitted requests for this series! I am sorry I can’t do them all, but I hope you guys like the ones I did write. 

The adrenaline rushed through you as you and Dean sprinted down the road, having just lost the sight of the monster you were hunting. Luckily having cut it on the leg with your knife, you could still see the blood trail it left behind. You breathed heavily as you ran, your breath visible in the cold night air.

The two of you followed the trail a couple blocks down, passing some roads with parents and their dressed-up kids, laughing and running from house to house. Rounding another corner you ended up on a dark and empty street. The two of you stopped running, trying to listen for the creature as you looked around the area “Yeah ‘cause this isn’t creepy” Dean muttered, the only sound audible, as the rest of the area was eerily still.

The two of you headed up the street, a few moments passing before you heard a trashcan nearby fall over with a loud crash. you and Dean spun around, blades pointed, ready. Seeing a raccoon run off you let out a breathy chuckle as Dean sighed in annoyance as the two of you continued up the long road. Turning around the next corner, you followed the blood trail before it lead to a large door that had been effectively broken down by the creature. 

Looking up, you studied the large neon colored building, large comic pictures of clowns and monsters painted the walls “Doctor Bloodhounds Crazy Halloween Maze?” Dean read aloud, looking under the sign you saw a multitude of keep out signs, ‘construction work’ signs, and caution tape. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” you muttered, shining the light at one of the large clown paintings you glanced over at Dean “Sam will definitely be glad he’s not here now”

Dean smirked at you before the two of you approached the building, cautiously stepping inside. You were immediately met with an obnoxious hallway covered in black and white spirals and fake blood. The two of you trailed down the hallway, effectively loosing your trail among all the fake blood lining the walls and floor.  

At the end of the hall, it split into two paths, left and right. Glancing down the left you looked at the floor, seeing the foot of someone “Dean” you whispered, gaining his attention. The two of you crept closer before rounding the corner quickly, ready to attack if needed.

The body on the ground was that of an ordinary man, now covered in blood, his throat slashed. Dean walked over to him, checking his pockets as you watched the doorways. Pulling out an ID and a business card he read it out “Owen Thompson, Owner of Doctor Bloodhounds Crazy Halloween Maze”

You frowned at the man on the ground“What was he even doing here?” you wondered out loud “It’s nearly 10pm and the signs outside say this place isn’t even working”

Just as you finished speaking the lights flickered on, causing you and Dean to stand defensively, slow circus-like music began to play over the speakers as various noises could be heard. Clown-like laughter, screams and loud bangs.

“Son of a bitch” Dean muttered under his breath “It’s playing with us now”

“It’s probably watching us too” you pointed your knife at one of the security cameras before looking over at Dean.

“Come on” he said before turning, the two of you entering into another hallway.

It seemed like the two of you wondered around forever before entering a wide long hallway, covered in fake spiders and spider webs, each wall lined with long curtains. The lights were dark and flashing, it was near impossible to see anything. Walking down the hall first you looked at the ceiling, frowning at the plastic and contorted faces peaking from various holes in the roof.

Feeling a hand brush your wrist you looked down, seeing nothing, and no mannequins to have brushed upon. Must have been Dean, he was directly behind you, staying close.

Continuing down the hall you passed a small cupboard, quickly opening it just in case you were almost relieved to find nothing. You began to back up, moving towards one of the curtains as you felt something brush your back.

You ignored it as Dean brushed by you, thinking it was just him. He eyed a small group of zombie-esque mannequins, jumping slightly when one groaned suddenly due to his closeness. You walked past him and further down the hall.

As you looked through the doorway in front of you, you saw a split hallway coming up. Feeling something brush against you and a quick breath you shivered slightly “Dean, don’t touch me, you keep making me jump”

Dean looked up from the ground, having been trying to decipher if any of the blood splatters on the ground were real. You were near five feet in front of him, his voice was serious “I didn’t”

Noticing his voice was at a distance you turned and stared at him for a moment. Just as you were going to turn and pull away one of the curtains a sudden yell came, pushing you into the other wall. The creature had been in the same hall, hiding from you behind the curtains. Classic.

As you stumbled Dean ran past you chasing the monster as it sprinted down the hall and to the right. You quickly ran after the two of them, cursing yourself for not having been more cautious. 

After rounding a couple corners you caught up to Dean who cursed to himself “That thing is fast, I lost it again”.

The two of you remained on guard as you walked through the maze, eyeing every mannequin you passed closely. Entering into a round room, similar to a bunker, there were a total of four exits. As you walked to the center of the room, a hatch above you opened as a large spider dropped from the ceiling. 

You yelped and jumped back as Dean cursed under his breath, another loud cackle could be heard over the speakers “I hate Halloween” Dean said before he looked at each door.

“Should we split up?” you suggested.

Dean remained quiet for a moment “We don’t even know if it’s still here” he admitted “Okay, you go through one of those doors, I’ll go this way. Try to find the door to the security room. If it’s not there, we can at least check the cameras to see where it is, or if it’s even still here”

You nodded “Got it” you headed towards the right-most door before Dean grabbed your hand suddenly. 

Looking back at him he took a step closer to you “Be careful”

“I always am” you smiled before squeezing his hand lightly and letting go, heading through the doorway. Dean watching you as you left, worry filling his gut, before he forced himself to walk down another path.

Slowly moving down the hall, you wondered why it was so empty compared to the others. Maybe this is where they are doing construction? Turning left down the next hall you paused. The walls, floor and roof were all mirrors. Walking cautiously, you prepared yourself for something to jump out at you. Passing safely through you let out a relieved sigh before whispering to yourself “I’ve always hated this crap”, hearing a loud noise down the hall you froze. 

It took you a moment to decide that the noise didn’t come from the speakers, but instead was made by something nearby. Raising your knife up you walked as silently as you could down the hall, approaching a black curtain that draped from the roof to the floor.

Everything in your gut told you there was something on the other side and you knew it was waiting for you. Preparing yourself for whatever would come you stretched out the hand with the knife, using the blade to move the curtain from your view, peaking behind the black cloth.

As soon as you did this, a large figure lunged out towards you, a loud scream coming from it. You yelled out, quickly lunging your knife forward into the object. It took you a moment to realize that you had just stuck your knife through the head of a plastic clown.

Just as you let out a large breath trying to calm yourself, you were taken by surprise again when large arms wrapped around you from behind. This time, by a living creature. 

Immediately trying to fight back you manage to throw the monster over your shoulder, dropping your knife in the process as the monster grabbed your legs and pulled you to the ground. The monster jumped on top of you as you struggled against it. The creature appeared mostly human except for it’s sharp blade like teeth, pale skin and yellow eyes. It’s long nailed hand moved to your throat as you threw your fist up, hitting the monster in the throat. As it choked in surprise you took the opportunity to bring your leg up and around the monsters head and stretching it across its chest before sitting up, pushing the monster down into it’s back as you reached for your knife.

The monster yelled in anger as it struggled to get up, unfortunately for you, it was bigger, and stronger. Your hand just missed grabbing the handle of your blade as the monster grabbed your legs and threw you off of it. 

Quickly standing, the monster tackled you into the nearby mirrored wall. Your impact was strong enough to crack the glass, a few pieces falling to the floor. Kneeing the monster in the stomach you pushed it into the opposite wall before throwing yourself to the ground towards your knife.

You grabbed the knife, spinning around, slashing toward the monster. A silver blade blessed in holy water and doused in a mixture of hollyhock and nightshade stabbed through the heart. The only thing that would kill it. 

Managing to cut the creature across the chest it yelled out before barreling down on you, grabbing your head and slamming it into the ground, leaving you in nothing but dark unconsciousness.

-

Dean moved down the halls, at first he was cautious, but as more and more jump scares came he grew aggravated. Just as another mannequin jumped forward, releasing a witch-like cackle dean grabbed the mannequin in anger before ripping it up from its base and throwing it down in anger “God I hate these things” he muttered to himself as he continued down a hall.

Hearing a yell in the distance that sounded too much like you, Dean stopped in his tracks, only hesitating for a moment before he ran back the way he came, trying to make his way to you as quickly as he could.

Entering into the bunker area from before he quickly ran through the doorway he had last seen you in. Rounding the second corner he paused at the mirrored hallway before seeing your blade lying on the ground at the end of the hall.

Quickly running to it he looked down the hall, seeing nothing. Turning, his eyes caught on the broken glass. You had definitely fought with the monster. Just as he was turning away his eyes caught on something else.

One of the mirrored walls was too far forward, as he approached he realized it was a hidden door. Quickly sliding it open he lunged inside, expecting to find you or the monster. But found nothing but an empty security room. His eyes moved to the computer screens, every security camera angle. His eyes darted from one screen to the next before he found what he was looking for,

The monster was dragging you by your feet down a hall, you were unconscious, or dead. That thought alone sent a chill through Deans heart before he was overwhelmed with fear and anger. Running out of the security room he moved down the hall, past the clown mannequin with a hole in it’s head, through the black curtain and towards you, tying to ignore the blood stains dragging along the tile that he knew came from one of you. 

-

You woke up slowly, feeling yourself moving, but knowing you weren’t walking. As you opened your eyes, you were first aware of the pounding pain in your head, and then you saw the roof above you moving over you. As you slowly came to your senses you looked up, seeing the monster dragging you along. You tried to think of what to do, you didn’t have your blade anymore, what could you do?

Seeing the monster turning it’s head you quickly lied back down, pretending to be unconscious again as you tried to come up with a plan.

The monster drug you for a few more minutes before you heard a door opening, as you were painfully dragged down a couple steps, you realized you were outside of the building as the night air chilled you. 

You felt the monster drop your legs before grunting a couple of times. You waited, not knowing if it was still looking at you. Hearing it distance itself slightly, you peaked your eyes open, seeing the monsters back turned to you as it looked around the area. Looking around you, you saw a broken wooden 2x4 on the ground. Silently rising, ignoring the aching pain in your head, you grabbed the plank from the ground.

The monster, hearing movement spun around violently, surprised by your sudden movements. Swinging the plank as hard as you could you smacked the monster across the head knocking it to the ground. 

At the same time you were doing this, you heard the door behind you swing open and Dean calling your name. As you heard him running towards you from behind the monster threw himself forward, tackling you.

Dean quickly grabbed the monster from behind before thrusting his blade into the monsters heart. The monster slumped down as it let out a painful gurgle before it’s body became motionless.

Throwing the monsters body away from you and onto the ground you staggered backwards, as your head pounded and your vision swayed. Dean quickly steadied you, moving you to sit down on the steps.

He crouched down in front of you, seeing you move your hand to place it on the back of your head. You winced as you brought your hand back, your hand covered in blood. 

Dean frowned as he gently moved your head down, looking at the wound “You’ll need a couple stitches, and you probably have a concussion, but you’ll be fine” You sighed as you closed your eyes tightly, trying to will the pain away. Deans hands gently cupped your face. Opening your eyes you met his concerned ones, he stared at you for a moment before a gentle smile crossed his face “What happened to you always being careful?”

You stared at him for a moment, your mind flashing back to the moment you let your guard down. “I got jump-scared by a clown and stabbed it in the face” you said with a blank expression and serous tone. 

Dean paused for a second before he laughed out loud, shaking his head, you smiled lightly at his amusement “God I love you” he said through chuckles, before he moved forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead “Now lets get out of here” he glanced back at the monster, that was already beginning to melt away into a gross green goo. The two of you grimaced at the sight before Dean wrapped a supportive arm around you. 

As you moved around to the front of the building you looked back at it before hearing the distant cacophony of “trick-or-treat!” and children's laughter. Two completely different worlds so close to colliding, you let out a small sigh before muttering out “Happy Halloween”.

[zombriekid]

Medium [Alucard/Gender Neutral Reader]

Series: Hellsing

Summary: “…could I request where the reader uses their medium powers on a mission and Alucard begins to believe them?” victory usually tastes so sweet but not at the expense of the innocent

warning: vague mentions of violence against children

 Mediumship is nowhere near as glamorous as the entertainment industry loves to portray; it’s not all traipsing (see: trespassing) on ancient burial grounds and hurling invasive questions into the air in the hopes of something Otherworldly™ responding. You don’t often see apparitions- full body or otherwise- and it’s rare to hear much more than a single whisper, in fact the vast majority of the time your dealings with the dearly departed amounts to little more than just random surges or depletions of energy.

 This is not to say that your spirituality is weak, it’s just that… that’s what “ghosts” are- energy left behind by the living like an imprint of history, and this energy can be influenced by events, past or present, and passionate emotions, negative or positive, thus rendering any argument that they exist a hollow shot in the dark. Because you can’t prove what you (often) can’t see, not to others, especially in this day and age of technology with photo/video manipulation. And the fact that mediumship has a bad rep due to prior exploiters and frauds.

 But you purposefully leave that last bit out of the conversation cause even though He’s acting like He’s not interested, you know that Alucard is tuning in.

 Not that you can blame Him though. What else is there to do?

 From the moment your little menagerie of hunters stepped out of the Hellsing jet, absolutely nothing has happened. Nothing, zilch, nada. This might be ideal in other situations but you were promised a paycheck upon the eradication of a vampire who’s “more monster than man” and the subsequent purification of his/her hunting grounds, and goddammit you can’t let this mission stain your record! That and Mr. Tall Dark and Frightening is assigned as one of your partners.

 Well… more like you’re the one that’s assigned but yadda yadda fine details and all that.

 “So in other words…” Seras pauses with a drawn out vowel, “you feel ghosts rather than see or hear them?”

 You shrug in response before catching your boot over a pile of broken glass. It’s inevitable that you’ll trek through some before the mission’s end- hell before the night’s over because of friggin course a bloodsucker sets up shop in an old, forgotten hospital- however the less shards you have to pluck out of the soles later the better.

 “Depends. I hear Pip just fine, and on occasion he visually manifests himself for me, but that’s only cause of his connection with you. Uses your energy.”

 This seems to satisfy the young vampire for she gives you a quiet hum in acknowledgment with nothing else to follow. Silence hangs over your small group as the three of you inch down the hall, briefly turning your attention into every passing doorway and you specifically avoiding stepping on to jagged scraps of splintered wood and dusty glass; these two might be immune to pathogens but that doesn’t mean you are.

 “So you sensing energy… you mean that literally?” She asks.

 “Yes ma’am.”

 “Then riddle me this, revenant,” Alucard’s voice disrupts the conversation, chases away any semblance of peace and echoes into every dark corner of the walls around you. The fine hairs all up and down your skin suddenly stand to attention with the intrusive introduction of His baritone. It’s not as if you forgot that He’s there, or even that He’s eavesdropping, you just didn’t expect Him to vocalize His opinion. Should’ve known better, it’s friggin Alucard after all. “Do you ‘sense the energy’ of our target?”

 That’s the thing.

 You don’t.

 You can pick up both of your companion’s energies easily- Alucard’s is oppressive and dark and just plain inhuman while Seras’s is warm and jovial, but scarred, reticent, as if she has a blanket of secrets weighing down her back until she aches. That’s the best way you can describe it at least.

But there’s no other energy nearby.

 Now you’ll always be the first to admit that there are certain limitations to your spiritual sensitivity- for instance you wouldn’t be able to sense someone in the parking lot from this deep in the complex- and there are many factors outside of your control that contributes, with species acting as a major contender. After all, man eating monsters tend to amass a surplus of energy with every soul they devour, human or otherwise.

 So why can’t you feel the target’s energy? Sir Integra herself described them as “a gluttonous, beastial affront against the Lord with a deplorable appetite for children”; loss of humanity, depraved morality, the murder of kids… merely one of these would be sufficient enough for you, let alone all three, so this should have ease akin to your breathing offending Alucard in some way.

 Then why…?

 “I’m callin’ it,” Seras huffs before her boots cease their trek, which (shockingly) causes your other vampiric squadmate to pause as well. No need to single yourself out, strength in numbers as the saying goes, so you do the same. “They’re not here.”

 “I agree, but why not ask Hellsing’s residential medium? After all they’re supposed to be able to sense this thing’s energy.”

 The walls quickly sprint by in your vision as you snap your attention to the right, and you channel every poisonous thought and cutting emotion into the glare you fix the back of His head with. Alucard feels the weight, you know He does, just as you don’t need to see it in order to know that there’s a self satisfied grin stretching across His face.

 God, He’s such a petty bitch.

 Then again so are you.

 “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you could use the energy of your soul to sense someone else’s!” You spit out through a clenched jaw, but you’re not yet done. Now for the zinger. “Wait! That’s right. You can’t cause you don’t have o-”

 Cold.

 A plume of icy chill kisses your pebbling skin. Fine hairs rise. Your spine straightens. Instincts, or a sort of magnetic pull to your right. Not Alucard though. Further.

 Over your shoulder.

 A winding stairwell.

 Energy. Young. Scared. On the same floor. Your floor. The first stair.

 There’s a-

 “Murray?” You hear someone ask but you quickly shush them.

 Because there’s a ghost at the base of the stairwell in the little passage off to the group’s right; it’s not strong enough to create a perfect visual, or rather much of a visual at all, instead you’re graced with an opaque silhouette vaguely humanoid in shape. You can make out where the head and shoulders are supposed to be, though the legs dissipate below (presumably) the knees, and judging by the relatively small size you can almost safely assume that this spirit comes from a child.

 An assumption that dries out the roof of your mouth, tightens the muscles in your throat until it hurts to swallow; child ghosts have always proven to be the most harrowing in terms of purification, if nothing else because of the implications of their demise. No one cherishes the idea of dead children, after all.

 It’s in the nature of your job, unfortunately, and it’s time to get to work so first thing’s first: is this ghost related to the mission?

 “Do either of y’all know any history about this place?” You ask in a voice that practically toes on screechy, and yes you’re aware that your drawl is a touch thick right now. “A children’s hospital, maybe?”

 Seras stumbles over her words, likely a result from your behavior considering this is the first she’s bore witness to this side of your role, but she quickly regains her faculties with a throat-clearing cough.

 “N-no, it’s umm.. was just a general hospital. Mostly used during one of the World Wars.”

 Your kneecaps ache- cold, sharp, it bites at the crevices between your joints and it slinks down both shins until your toes start to feel chilly. A sort of rolling, hollow loftiness churns the pit of your stomach, and your head seems far too heavy to be sitting on such a stiff neck, and a dusting of salty tears sting the fleshy corners of your eyes. A scream tears at your jaw.

 But you don’t panic, there’s no need to because this reaction is not yours. The pain in your legs, the woozy light headedness that’s sapping your energy, the involuntary urge to sob and shriek until the lining of your throat feels like sandpaper? None of this belongs to you. This is your body reacting to the stimuli from the child’s ghost.

 Or as you like to call it: minor possession.

 “Why do you ask..?”

 A vampire with a preference for younger victims.

 “Murray?”

 The shade of a terrified kid, silhouette incomplete, and everything from your knees down plagued with an icy burn.

 …there’s no denying it, what you’re currently staring at, subsequently what’s burrowing into your bones and siphoning your energy, is a casualty of this mission’s target.

 You hear someone call your name, more specifically your first name, but with so much metaphorical cotton stuffed in your ears you can’t really determine who so you instead lift a pointer finger towards the spirit; perhaps crawling through mud would be easier. God you feel so weak.

 Seras is the first to respond.

 “Wha’ is it? I don’t see anything.”

 Through your teeth you manage to bite out: “g-ghost.” And that is perhaps the worst thing you could’ve said or done because the shrill gasp that she unleashes is nothing short of jarring, and she bounces from one foot over to the next and back again as her red eyes widen and glimmer with what you could only call excitement.

“Where?! Where is it, where do you see it?!”

 These questions gush out of her like a broken spout with many more to follow, but you can’t help but to tune them out cause this? What she’s doing right now? Yeah this is the exact reason why you prefer to tend to spirits by yourself; the fascination that borderlines fetishization that most carry with their individual worldviews often leads to disrespecting those who have long since passed. Hence your profession boggled down with money-grubbing charlatans, and entire programs dedicated to ghost hunting- ah, your apologies, you mean “paranormal investigating”. It’s distasteful, it’s tacky, and it’s downright insulting, and it etches itself deep into the lines between your brows and the downward tug of your frown.

 This… must convey your message perfectly for the young vampire’s delight gradually bleeds into something more somber.

 Maybe if you weren’t so tired you’d find it in yourself to let it go? “That’s one of our target’s victims, Victoria. Try to show some respect?”

 At least she has the decency to look ashamed, unlike her master whom you can feel the glare He levels you with behind the orange tint of His glasses. Any other time and the weight of His ire would intimidate you, but you honestly don’t care right now.

 The child’s spirit rises and bobs up the stairs, as if it’s simulating the act of walking, and with it goes the sensation of ice and pain and fear out of your joints. From beside you, on your right, you can barely make out Seras quietly saying “I think I see something.” It rounds the sharp bend in the stairwell before it continues its ascension until you can’t see- or sense- it anymore.

 And then something dawns on you.

 “I think he/she wants us to follow.”

 Alucard scoffs from somewhere behind you. “Is it going to lead us to the target?”

 A nod is all that you give Him. He in turn allows a single barking laugh to rip from His throat out of derision, judging by the sound in the way it’s meant to curl around your cheeks until they feel hot, however you’re rather confident in your assessment. In fact you’re very nearly absolutely certain that that is what’s going to happen: follow the ghost and you’ll find the target.

 Which brings you to your final conclusion, one that Seras seems to be grasping at herself. “Wait. If this ghost genuinely is a victim, then it really shouldn’t… exist per say, yeah?”

 “Yep. Man eating monsters, especially vampires, essentially absorb souls as a means to substitute what they’ve lost.” You glance at her in your peripheral. “Which means one of two things. Either my hunch is wrong and this spirit truly is an echo from the past, or…

 “My hunch is right, the spirit is a casualty, and our target’s already dead.”

 Silence picks up where your sentence ends; the nothingness of the quiet permeates through one ear and out the other, and it presses down on the bones of your shoulders until your spine shivers. There’s a tension in the air not unlike a rubber band being stretched from both ends, you can feel it in the cavity of ribcage, and though you could easily attribute the stress to the hospital’s atmosphere or the very real possibility of your estimate holding true, your instincts- built from some odd months worth of experience and adversity- place the blame on something else.

 Or rather someone else.

 Alucard.

 Because His opinion of you, and of your work, is coated in an acidic venom, and He’s very open about this with every sharp word and barbed look that He deems worthy of His time. Yet He hasn’t said anything else, hasn’t done anything else since His last outburst of sarcasm, and it makes you hyper aware of Him. As if He’s going to attack at any moment, physically or otherwise. Does He disagree? Is He biding for time until the finale where He can deliver yet another calamitous blow to your already scarred ego? … Is He actually considering that you may be right about this?

 Not possible. His pride is greater than His hatred for your existence.

 And on this dismal thought, you decide to not dedicate any more energy in to solving the enigma that is Alucard and you take a few strides towards the stairs before you mumble out a “only one way to find out.” You don’t bother waiting for your companions.

 Not twenty minutes later the three of you are provided with a definite answer to your theory.

 But you don’t gloat, there’s not even a hint of desire to. Because, after all, no one cherishes the idea of dead children.

_______________________________________________________________________

a/u: had ta repost this bitch cause i done messed up a-aron, which in turn meant tumblr pissed in my coffee and not showed it in ANY tags sooo... presto here we are again! once more with feeling: thank you to the anon who requested this, and thank you to everyone who reads <3 if ya liked my scheisse then please tickle the heart, leave a comment, and reblog it so other peeps can enjoy it too -3-

[ultradiplr]

The Beast: Part 2

A Vampire!Sigma/Reader fic. - Part 1

Plot: You’ve charmed the Beast, but are you ready for what that entails?

Tags: Size Difference. Mentions of Blood/killing. Stalking-ish?(does it still count if Reader knows he’s there and is okay with it?) Slight voyeurism. Guilt. Reader is Gender Neutral.

A/N: Ayyyyy, TIme for some more Vampire!Sigma. Sorry this took so long, inspiration is a bitch lol

Xx

After the fog of his own doing had cleared from your mind that night and you had a moment to reflect, you knew instantly what he was.

 A Monster. A Beast. A Vampire.

For months after the ball you could swear you felt the piercing red eyes of Lord Siebren on you wherever you went. You couldn’t see them, but you swore they were there, sending shivers down your spine every time you passed a darkened alley, a dark corner of your house, or settled down into bed, his eyes felt like they were there, watching, waiting… hunting. The eyes of a predator on their prey, that’s what it  should feel like.

It should feel awful, uncomfortable, absolutely terrifying and yet it wasn’t. Dare say it was… so very… alluring, enthralling, and… god you didn’t know.

You spent many nights waking to the feeling of a presence in your room, shivers running up your spine from excitement. You lay awake waiting, hoping, that he’d make himself known to you, to say something, anything, but he never does. He’s just there. Patient. Quiet. Watching. Waiting. The morning light brought as much relief as it did disappointment, as you could feel yourself breath easily again in the lack of him and his terrifying, suffocating aura though a certain type of frustration you knew well filled you immediately after.

How many days has it been now that you pleasured yourself to the thought of him?

Hazy morning brain flooded with memories of his large cold hands, his bright, hungry red eyes, the sound of his sweet, smooth, honey voice, and his overwhelming build. Thoughts of him grabbing you by the hips, fingers digging into your skin, holding you, caressing you. A debased desire to have him fill you, to surround you, to hold and touch and kiss and… 

Your scarred hand tingles with the memory of him holding it and you held it close as your other snaked into your pants, rubbing yourself to the thought of him. Lord Siebren. His name tasted sweet on your tongue. Lord Siebren. You hoped that he could hear you, wherever he was hiding. Lord Siebren. His name got caught in your throat as you came, fast and sudden, like always, the intensity of your desire for him always catching you off guard.

You lay in bed, basking in the rising light through your window, staring into space and thinking about him. Wanting. Waiting. Hoping.

It takes every ounce of self control he can muster, which has slowly dried up as he’s come to “watch” you, not to come to your aid in those lonely mornings. His name on your lips as you find your pleasure, asking him, begging him to take you. That’s how he found you the first time, your call for him having reached out from deep in his mind and lead him to find you in the throws of self pleasure.

He wants to ease your frustration. Lord in heaven he wants to for he feels the same. But he’s afraid. Terrified. Of hurting you. Of taking advantage of you. Of devouring every last drop of life from you. It scares him, the idea of you being wiped from this earth because of him, but yet he lingers around you, watching, waiting, torturing himself.

And yes it is torture, being so near you with the memory of the meager taste of you on his lips, the memory of that night, of your warm body pressed against him as he lured you alone, the images he conjured up burned into his brain, it all tortured him and brought him nothing but pain as he continued to watch you. So close, yet so far.

He knew he was testing his limits like this, making it harder to control himself, but something was pulling him toward you again and again, pulling him out of his careful isolation longer and longer, away from the safety of his keep and into the dangerous day. Risking his life to see you, to hear you, alive and well, living and thriving, and glowing with bubbling life. Radiating warmth and light in his mind like the very sun you frolicked and lived under. Your smile, your voice, your skin, all beautiful and alluring to him.

 He didn’t know how, but he’d become infatuated with you and for the unlife of him he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

You wake up, as you always do, when the moon is highest, with the feeling of someone else there. It was a strange feeling, a mixture of familiarity from it becoming such a normal part of your life by now and reflexive alarm at knowing just what lay in the shadows of your room. You looked around, as you always do, but see nothing. As you always do.

You lay back down, a headache forming from the inconsistency on what you felt and what you saw. Nothing. You see nothing. But you knew he was there. Like when the creatures of the forest knows when a wolf lingers, or a storm is brewing, or a tree is about to fall. It was a sense, a sense you could not explain, even to yourself. A sense of impending danger. A sense of impending thrill. A sense of impending… it didn’t matter.

Nothing will come of this. Nothing. It made you frustrated.

“If you do not wish to do anything, then at least let me rest.” You say, staring up at the dark ceiling from your bed. “I am tired of this game.” your brows furrow with a grimace.

There was a long silence, a silence you were sure was going to continue, until a whispered voice answered you.

“It is not a game.” He says, his long awaited honey voice sending goosebumps over your skin but you scoff at the idea.

“If it is not a game, why do you play with me so.” You spit out at him, sitting up. “Why not just get it over with.”

His breath gets stuck in his throat at the question, “I do not want to hurt you.” He admits shakily. “I truly don’t.” he’s taking steps toward you without thinking, pulling himself out of that ghostly state and making himself known.

“Then don’t.” You stare at the darkness at the foot of your bed, for the first time ever, just barely make out a figure in the room, slowly coming toward you.

“It is not that simple.” His voice is clearer as he comes nearer. “It hungers for you, it won’t be satisfied until every last drop of life is stolen from you.”

A full body shiver takes you at the implication, but the heat is rising in you as well, why was that so… intoxicating. “And that is not what you desire?”

“No, god no.” His voice is wavering, and for the first time, a hand pale and clawed reaches for you from the darkness, illuminated by the moonlight, “I want so much more.” his hand is snatched back quickly, back into the darkness.

The sentence is laced with so much want, so much pain, it hits you hard and you have an overwhelming need to comfort him. You stand upon your knees and walk to the edge of the bed toward him, realizing for the first time how much he really looms over you.

“What do you want?” Your scarred hand reaches out and touches upon soft fabric covering his hard chest, no warmth, no beating of a heart, just a solid wall of person.

His own engulf yours, no glove now to mask him. His skin felt weird, soft and smooth but… wrong. Something that just made you cringe just a bit, like the uncanny valley of touch. 

“To possess you.” The words felt awful on his tongue, admitting to you what he could never admit to himself before. “Too keep you, to make you mine and only mine, to see you live for me.”

You looked at him confused, “Why is that worse?”

The question sounds so innocent to him, so full of ignorance, but he could not blame you, you did not know what you were touching, asking, wondering. He would have laughed if it did not make his unbeating heart clench.

He shook his head, “It is selfish, like a farmer keeps his animals, you’d be no more than a meal in waiting.” he tried to reason with himself, surely that was the only reason for a monster like him to want you.

You tried to search his face in the darkness but could only see his eyes, reflecting what little light there was, holding the same fear they had that night when he dragged himself away from you.

“I don’t believe that.” Your other hand touched his face, caressing his high cheek, “I don’t believe you’re as bad as you say you are.”

He was amazed by your words, amazed at how wrong they were, amazed at your… your… stupidity, naivete, your misplaced trust and desire.

He took a step back toward the darkness, threatening to disappear again, “It doesn’t matter what you believe, it’s the truth, I’m a monster, why else would I be here?”

You held tight to his chest and pulled him back toward you, forcing him to lean down to you, where you captured his lips. He whimpered into the kiss, instantly leaning into you and forcing the kiss deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth to finally taste you. Satisfying. Relieving. Tortuous. When you pulled back the both of you were out of breath and he kissed your forehead.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” He says strained, already leaning you back onto the bed, hand quickly roaming your body.

“I don’t.” You admit breathlessly as his hands quickly undo your pants, “So, show me.”

He moaned at the way you say that, feeling his normally still and cold blood start to pump through him, warming him, making him harden. His fingers easily found your opening, marveling at the wetness already there.

“Why are you-” He begins but you cut him off with a kiss,

“I’ve been preparing for you for a long time, Lord Siebren, you must know that~” You whisper in his ear, encouraging his hand to explore with your own.

His chest and loins ache at the memory of his name on your lips as he left you everyday, the way it rolled off your tongue as you reached your peak without him, asking, begging for him. He had too much control then, but now… now he didn’t know what he was doing, what became of him.

When his fingers sunk into your warm entrance you tensed a little, his cold fingers were a strange sensation, but not unpleasant, especially as they reached so much farther than your own. He stretched you out carefully, steadily, watching with amazement as his fingers pulled out and delved into you, a sight he hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. 

You were so smooth, so slick, so HOT, almost burning compared to him, but he couldn’t stop, not while you panted and mewled and rolled your hips at him, not as you slowly relaxed and took more fingers, not as he watched you come undone under him in the way he desperately wanted for so long.

You were ethereal to him as you glowed under the scant moonlight, warm and lively, quivering under his touch, fluttering and clenching around his digits as you came from his ministrations. He felt himself grow greedy watching you in the throws of passion, working you to over stimulation, wanting every last drop of desire from you.

When you finally had enough you yanked his hand from yourself easily. You looked up at him, vision a little unfocused from the onslaught he put you through. He looked absolutely enthralled and it made your heart flutter.

“No more games,” You said as serious as you could, considering the circumstances.

“Yes, forgive me.” He says in an intake of breath. “I am just…”

“Surprised, me too.” You tease and bring him into another kiss, hands venturing down his broad body and to his belt.

He rested his head on yours as he watched you release him, shivering at the feeling of your warm, almost burning warm, hands on his hardened member. You marvel at it, so much stranger than any other cock you’ve ever handled, human of course, but off, just like the rest of him. Not necessarily a sickly color but an unusual one, here he did feel warm, if just a little. Your hand just wrapped around it, fingertips brushing around it, and you moved it along him, wanting to commit to memory every thing that made him moan.

He let you stroke him, not wanting to ruin the wonderful sight of you holding him in your hand, finally, after all this time, after all this longing. He groaned as you thumbed his slit and he canted in your hand, releasing a few drops of precum. The unusual warmth had come back to him, like that night but only so much worse. So much more intense. He was sure he was dying this time.

He did not last long in your hand, and came onto your fist as he moaned loudly and clawed at your headboard, leaving deep grooves in the wood.  He was still rock hard, not unusual for him, but you were more amazed at his cum which made him blush as you took an experimental taste. You were amazed to find it flavorless but it was a bit… viscous. Interesting.

“You’re a strange creature, Lord Siebren, you fascinate me.” You say up at him and his breath is caught in his throat at the genuine nature of your words.

“And you are much the same for me.” He confesses quietly but loudly enough for you to hear, and flush with a new heat. 

Who knew a seven foot cryptid like him could be so cute?

You lead in repositioning yourself onto your stomach, propped up by your scant pillows and blanket to help with the size difference as he hunched over you from behind, hands firmly on your waist and head hooked around your shoulder at your neck, a dangerous position to be in but he was too gone with desire to understand that.

You bit your lip as you felt him move against you, starting slow by rubbing against your backside a few thrusts before his tip caught your entrance and he slowly slid in, covered in his and your slick. You cried out at the stretch, and he shivered wildly as he tried to force himself to slow down, for both of your sakes, already feeling his control starting to slip.

His tongue lazed out of his mouth, licking a stripe on your smooth next, kissing your pulse as he felt you flutter around him. You hung your head and focused on relaxing, urging him further with encouraging moans and small thrusts backwards. His hands, strong and large, held you mostly in place but your efforts did not go unnoticed as he chuckled darkly in your ear.

“So impatient, little rabbit, do you not see your own hubris tempting the wolf.” He says cryptically, making you whimper as he bites very lightly at your neck, leaving a small mark easily.

When he finally hilts within you he stills, claws digging into your skin just a little, trying his damnedest not to break skin as he tensed, knowing that he had instantly grown addicted to this simple feeling. The velvety, warm, tight pressure of you your body around him, alive, pumping all that deliciously hot and tempting blood around him. For a monster like him that surely had hell waiting for him whenever that time came for him, he could only assume that this was as close to heaven he will ever get.

He only began moving with your say so, and he did so slowly, easing himself out and then into you, feeling the way you pulled on him just a little as he exited and how you sucked him greedily back in when he pushed in. Out and in. Out and In. A steady rhythm that he kept, even as you begged for more, even as you pulled lightly at his hair, even as you panted in his ear, even as you tried to push back against him. He needed to keep steady, knowing in his heart that no, you were not ready for all of him right now, not until he was sure he would not hurt you from it.

It felt like an eternity with his slow pace driving you insane. Like torture. So mean. Had he not tortured you enough these past few months? And yet he continues to tease. Continues to play with you! And you thought the frustration of him not fucking you was awful!

“Please Lord Siebren, I can handle you, please.” You cried, actually cried, the frustration bubbling out of you in hot tears, “I need more.”

More? He could give you more. But at what cost to you? To himself? He shook his head, voice stuck in his chest as you squeezed him, an underhanded tactic if he ever saw one and in response he stilled completely, smiling internally at the yell that was pulled from you.

“Oh, why are you so cruel!” you wailed, bunching the sheets in your tight fists.

One hand left your hip to intertwined with your hair, pulling your head back lightly as he tutted in your ear, “Do not mistake my empathy with cruelty my dear, I have already told you I wish you no harm.”

“You will not harm me.” You beg, trying everything in your strength to get him to start to move again.

It’s a useless gesture, considering he has you pinned against your bed so easily, but still you persist and he has to give you some credit. “How do you know that, my dear, have you forgotten what I am?”

You shake your head and he is unsatisfied, “Tell me then.”

You bite your lip and are suddenly hesitant to say it out loud before he snaps his hips back and forth harshly, pushing the answer from your chest violently, “A vampire.” you moan.

“Yes, a vampire, a monster, that should make you fear for your life.” He bites, starting up a brutal pace, one that you are immediately thankful for, “yet here you are begging for things you don’t understand.”

“Yo-you’re no- Ah~ monster” You try to say but words are getting lost to you as you’re rapidly reaching your peak. “I- ah~ trust you.” you barely got out.

“Your trust is misplaced.” His beast was roaring within him, so close to the surface he was becoming unsure of where it started and he began anymore. “You are a fool.”

His hips picked up more, the words you speak filling him with a mixture of elation and dread, you trusted him, but had he somehow manipulated that trust from you? Was what you say true, or just words made up by your lust addled brain? Or worse, had he somehow implanted those thoughts into you? He didn’t know. And it was terrifying.

He groaned and buried his head next to yours, feeling his teach elongate and to puncture you, but he will not give his body the satisfaction, instead biting his own lip and causing him to bleed his cool, cold blood onto himself.

You’re shocked to feel cold liquid drip onto your shoulder, and when you turn your head to see what was happening you moaned at the sight of him, focused hard, blood dripping down his chin, face red and brows furrowed, chasing his own pleasure yet holding whatever was inside him back. You felt yourself come right upon your peak and crash suddenly, surprising both of you.

His hips continued pumping into you at a brutal pace, worse now as you squeezed him in your completion, giving him all the go ahead he needs to pursue his own end. His mind was nothing but a flurry of awful, erotic thoughts, mostly centered on plunging his fangs deep in your neck as he cums, and tasting your right from the source. It was making his cock throb as much as it was making his heart break, and he knew deep down he really was no better than a beast.

He came soon after you, ramming himself as deep as he could go and halting there, filling you his cum, heavy and strange within you, yet awfully satisfying. His body convulsed as he emptied into you, and he pushed you deeper into your mattress, wanting every last drop to rest snugly inside you. He didn’t know why, perhaps left over desires from when he was human, lord knows he was unable to impregnate you.

He stayed still until he softened, and then pulled from you with a shudder, feeling his release spill after him. He looked at your bottom half, grimacing at the scratches and the already bruising hand marks blossoming on your hips, though a strange sense of pride also filled his chest, a sense he did not want to linger on. He was fixated on the sight of his seed spilling from your aching hole when your voice called out to him.

“Strange creature indeed.” You say and he looks up to see you are examining the blood he left on you, dark, very dark, nearly black in the moonlight, with a maroon reflection. 

An overwhelming sense of guilt filled him looking at you, the whole picture, marked up by him and covered in blood. His blood sure. His blood for now. For now? Did he want to do this again? Risk your safety again? No. No he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He won’t-

“Did you mean what you said, about wanting to keep me?” You ask softly, turning around under him to face him.

You’re still red and panting, still alive and thriving, and asking something he takes a moment to process as he’s in awe of your beautiful visage in the moonlight.

“Yes.” he says carefully, holding his breath, knowing exactly where you are going, but unbelieving nonetheless

“I would not… mind… being... kept... if you will have me.” You are hesitant to ask, gathering that it was a tall order for him, to keep you around him and bate back the beast within him.

But the idea of never doing this again. Of never holding him. Never feeling him. It made you sad. You wanted him to be here with you forever, or you to be with him, it didn’t matter, as long as he could hold you like tonight for the rest of your life, you’ll be happy.

“Are you sure because next time… that blood could be yours.” He asks, already standing and going to collect you in his arms.

You cling to him, feeling his strong arms holding you up like you weighed nothing, so powerful, so strong, so careful. Whether he knew it or not, you read him clearly, he was infatuated with you too much, and you feared not the beast he did. You trusted him.

“It’s a risk I am willing to take.” You say calmly, snuggling into his broad chest and the soft fabric of his rich clothing.

He smiled tiredly and nodded his head, without much hesitation, leaped from your window, and out into the night, taking you home. His home. Your Home. Together.

He might not know how long he can control the beast with you so near now, but he trusted your confidence, and that soothed him in a way he could never fully understand. His beast was now yours, and together perhaps you’ll tame it.

Though It seems you’ve already done that.

[antagonisms]

BASICS

Name: Evan Czarnecki

Gender & pronouns: cis male, he/him

Species: werewolf

Age: 27. Jokes about being 63, because he was a wolf for 6 years, which is 42 dog years + those 21 normal human years. Either way, age is a really weird concept now.

PERSONALITY

Traits: Pretends to be flippant to put the world at a distance. Vulgar as a means of distancing himself from genuine vulnerability. Perceptive, but won’t let you know that. More self-aware than he lets on. Self-absorbed. Self-destructive. Loves being seen, hates being known.

Moral alignment / MBTI / enneagram: Chaotic neutral. INTP-A. 5w6.

Values: In other people, he likes independence, open-mindedness, the ability to dress well, a lack of tolerance for bullshit, genuine altruism, and resilience.

Flaws: Judgmental. Narcissistic as a defense mechanism. Occasionally rude, but mostly just cheeky. Not a team player. Reckless. Hedonistic. The brokest bitch in Blackrock.

HISTORY 

( shorter version is in the app. i just like details. trigger warnings for child abuse and sex as self harm.)

1) CHILDHOOD

You had a family, once. Your mother’s a piano teacher and your father is — you don’t know, really, but he’s got enough old money to buy nice things even if he’s stingy on principle. He’s polite, and she’s funny, and your fellow patrons at Sunday Mass love all three of you because you’re down-to-earth, surface-level beautiful — a perfect American family.

But they don’t know what happens inside the too-big house at the foot of the mountain. Your mother’s a pessimist, and your father’s a sniveling piece of shit who copes with his worthlessness by making everybody feel small. He’s kinda good at it. They’re both as loud as they are erratic and it’s all a matter of bracing yourself for when the floor inevitably falls through. You make do, mostly. You hide in your room. You lock the door. You put your ears behind headphones. You drown out their screaming matches and your too-loud mind. 

It all falls apart when Mommy decides she hates Daddy more than she loves you. No goodbye. No explanation. She just leaves. 

Her departure plants a lesson you will later find impossible to uproot: love is earned, Evan, you’re not working hard enough. At least your father stayed. At least he sometimes loved you. At least, you think so. He might have loved you when he took you fishing, or gave you that book you really liked, or when he buys you clothes that look really nice. You flip through your mother’s old sheet music and fumble through the piano keys, and you think he might love you when he watches you fill this house with her memory without saying anything.

But mostly, he’s not very kind. You don’t want to think about it anymore.

2) ADOLESCENCE

You inherit your mother’s cynicism and your father’s stingy heart. The skill you develop is as much a sense of humor as it is a safety net. If life’s a joke, beat it to the punchline. By the time you’re fifteen, you can no longer pretend that your world is worth saving. You keep it at arm’s length. Your mind makes a mockery of the darkness to keep its jaws at a distance, because if you couldn’t do that, your pitch-black pessimism would swallow you whole.

Growing up feels less like maturing and more like mutating. By the time you’re sixteen, you stop feigning perfection to earn the affection of a father who’s heart is colder than your Blackrock winter. Popular misconception claims control is a word you never learned, but that’s just what you let everyone think. The truth is: control is a lesson you pried out of your body when the need for acceptance evolved into a need to rebel. You’re an embarrassment, Evan. Adolescence meant insurrection. You’re a failure of a son. Pills and booze and boys and girls biting the hand that hit him. Your heart is a bullet and your mouth is a shotgun and you will make yourself repulsive if the alternative is admitting that — Evan, I wish you knew how difficult it is to love you.

You only apply yourself when it matters. You get into Stanford. You take a loan. You don’t let your father pay for tuition, because you’re not letting him control your life anymore. You leave your tar pit town the way your mother did, and it’s only a matter of time before your goodbye is permanent. 

It gets better as much as it gets worse. You leave home, but home doesn’t really leave you, and you don’t recognize your body when it’s not in pain. You’re beautiful, though. People see you and want to make you theirs. You let it happen. Too-rough hands salve the ghosts of bruises your father left you. This is the ugliest way of putting it: you feel damaged. Every person you kiss has too-sharp teeth, and maybe that’s exactly how you want it, because if this body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you, then offer it up in a way that feels good.

You always leave first. You love much how it tears them apart. This is your inheritance: your Momma’s love of leaving, and your Daddy’s stingy, stingy heart.

3) THE BITE

Unlike your mother, you tried to come back. Your father called one night, asking if you wanted to return for Christmas, and the small, stupid flicker of hope that your pessimism couldn’t kill begged that you give him a chance.

He didn’t change. He argues about the degree you’re taking with the money you don’t have and insists on carving a future for you, his way. He doesn’t like your independence. He doesn’t like your protests. Your fights are explosive until they aren’t, until a raised fist reminds you exactly what violence he’s capable of.

At least he sometimes loves you. Maybe he loved you when he picked your wounded body up, carried you out of the woods, and bandaged up bite on your side. Maybe he loved you when he brought medicine to your room, and maybe he loved you when made you chicken soup just the way you liked it, even when you didn’t ask. Maybe he loved you when he sat by the side of your bed, and talked about his father, and his father’s father, and how none of them really knew how to grow up without making their sons feel small.

But the fever is strange. A new kind of anger tears out whatever capacity for forgiveness you might have had. Your bones are changing. Something wretched twists and grows inside you, and with a hot flash of pain, you’re something new entirely.

You have one last coherent thought before the wild takes your mind completely.

I have to kill him. So you do. 

3.5) THE THINGS YOU DON’T KNOW

The news of your father’s death spreads like wildfire in Blackrock. It’s not your father’s mangled body that causes intrigue, it’s your disappearance. Wolf attacks, while uncommon, aren’t exactly rare, and everyone’s heard the folktales. Neighbors assure that you were there during the evidence, but the police find no evidence of carnage, not a pound of flesh nor drop of blood to support the fearful need to conclude that there’s nothing supernatural about this. You can’t prove the Czarnecki kid isn’t a werewolf, the gossipers say. Nobody can even prove that he’s dead.

4) WOLF-HOOD

You don’t know what strange circumstance landed you in your new body, but maybe you don’t care. Maybe the bite and the fever killed you, and the Buddhists were right. You don’t really know if you earned enough good karma to deserve this reincarnated form, but either way, you’re never letting it go. You hunt deer. You roll around in the snow. You snarl at any predator that dares to get near, and bite the ones that move into your space without permission. Sometimes you walk into the backyards of strangers and wait for children who aren’t afraid to try and approach you. You don’t eat them, because just because you’re a monster now doesn’t mean you don’t have principles.

You lie down. You let them rub your belly.

It’s a really nice life.

5) NOW

Six years after you thought you died, a woman drags you out of the woods you back into your body. Even a lifetime of pain couldn’t prepare you for the shift back. New bones tear your animal flesh apart, piercing your skin open to make room for your wretched old body. It aches in too many ways. The people — the wolves — the ones who did this to you, they tell you this is your home now.

So it wasn’t Buddhism. Maybe it’s the Catholics who’re right; eternal damnation does await the unrepentant sinner, and it looks like this: you’re here, trapped in a frat house for furries, without a  cellphone, a car, or clothes of your own, or money to pay a doctor to confirm whether or not you’d acquired a tapeworm.

You realize you owe Stanford 213,000 dollars.

You are a very tired wolf.

TLDR:

Evan has a bad childhood. He becomes a wolf. He kills his father. He mistakes lycanthropy for reincarnation and lives in wolf-nirvana for six whole years. You drag him out of nirvana. The realization that he didn’t actually die puts him in a terrible mood. 

CONNECTIONS 

( So uhhh I wrote up possible prompts for the existing werewolf skeletons before I knew what anyone was like and I think they can be good jumping points! If you don’t feel this fits your character, or if you want a different sort of dynamic, just message me! )

1) WOLVES (AND BITTEN HUMAN)

ALDER: You’ve seen him at his ugliest — a small, scared creature writhing on the floor, that horrific cross between a howl and a screech leaving his shifting throat. Now there’s a flare of red-hot resentment in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it makes you wonder if he’s more monstrous as a human than he is a beast. You saved him from death. You realize you cannot save him from life. He’ll never forgive you for that.

HEMLOCK: You are a bootlicker and he does not like you.

HICKORY: It’s not your job to keep the feral wolf in line, but your brother seems to resent whatever circumstance it was that landed him the role of mongrel babysitter. Consider picking up the slack. The guy’s only half-terrible — sullen and strange but mostly manageable, and maybe earning his trust is only a matter of affording him the patience that nobody else wants to offer. If it’s an opportunity to prove this pack your worth, try taking it.

MAPLE: You’ve worked too hard to protect this pack, to earn your position. Now your lot has dragged some feral creature out of the woods, offered him their home, their humanity, and still, he has the nerve to be ungrateful. He makes it clear that he doesn’t trust you. He makes it even clearer that you cannot trust him. Maybe the demons in your head are concussed, but the new demon in your home now insists on giving you a migraine. 

PINE: You are a mirror of lost days. You are the young flighty creature he once was and can never become again. Home is a word you might have both forgotten, but circumstance has offered you both a new roof over your heads, and a family to go with it. Maybe these similarities should draw you closer, but there’s a glimmer of resentment in his eyes whenever he looks at you. You don’t know why it’s there. It could be pity. It might be envy. It must be grief. 

OAK: He had a father, once, and that shit didn’t end well. For some reason, he sees it fit to pass some unearned blame on you, and now years of buried resentment are yours to bear. Family’s a broken word, he seems to think, but you cannot let him break yours. Still, it’s evident that he lacks the capacity to be as self-sufficient as he’d like, and as long as that’s true, it’s your thumb he’ll be under. You know he needs you. Offer an open hand, or pull the leash tighter. The choice is yours.

REDCEDAR: He shows up at the bookstore to read a new title of Animorphs every other day and you don’t know how that makes you feel.

WILLOW: He might take more kindly to you than he does the others. You’re both new to a home you’re not sure will ever welcome you, and more importantly, you both wanted this. The bite. This beastliness. The difference is that he’s certain. Your condition is a new part of yourself that you have yet to fully love, but he seems to think he can teach you. Man and beast are equally monstrous, he tries to convince you. So let’s be the kind with bigger teeth.

2) OPEN CONNECTIONS

( Open to humans ) has taken an interest in the Czarnecki Werewolf Conspiracy. They’re familiar with the incident — a dead father, a missing son, and the wolf that allegedly kill them both. All the facts line up too neatly, and when somebody who looks to be the ghost of one Evan Czarnecki returns to haunt the streets of Blackrock, they think it’s finally time they get some answers.

( Open to humans ) once knew Evan. Yeah, the kid who always got straight A’s and played piano for Catholic mass? What the actual shit happened to him? They’re watched Evan go from familiar face to murder case overnight, but now, the town recluses have found a new adoptee — and he’s the splitting image of the boy they once knew. Maybe it’s time to reconnect.

3) VAGUE CONCEPTS

he uhhhh (spins wheel) flirted with ( open ) at last drop for free drinks and then realized that spending six years as a wolf made him de-acquire the taste of liquor and now he’s having a crisis

( open ) tells him he needs therapy. evan laughs

this is actually very hard he’s so unsociable

jsut message me... we’ll think of something

[samsexualdeancurious]

Day Thirty

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 3,395

Prompt: “Imagine Sam proposing to you at the same time as you trying to tell him you’re pregnant + Imagine being on the run from Gordon because you’re pregnant with Sam’s child + Imagine Sam freaking out when you go into labor because he knows that kid will have a target on her back the moment she’s born + Imagine watching Sam as he plays with his baby girl and calls her princess (his nickname for her) + Imagine Sam’s reaction when yours and his daughter’s first word is “Dada” + Imagine your daughter being afraid of the doctor, so Sam dresses up as one to please her + Imagine yours and Sam’s daughter always asking to ride on Sam’s shoulders so she can be tall like Daddy” from @teamfreewillimagines

Warnings: pregnant!Reader, angst, Gordon Walker being an asshole

You settle against Sam with a sigh, head tucked under his chin. His strong arms wrap around you. Now is really the perfect moment to tell him, lounging on a motel couch while Dean’s out, but you’re nervous about how he’ll react.

“Sam?” you say, sitting up so you can look him in the eye.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“And I have something to ask you.”

“You go first.”

“No, you.”

“Sam, I’m pregnant” you blurt at the same time he says “Will you marry me?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then, “What?”

“You’re pregnant?” Sam asks.

You nod. “Are you serious about marrying me?”

“Of course I’m serious. But, Y/N, are you really pregnant?”

“I really am.”

A grin splits his face and he pulls you in for a fierce kiss. “I’m going to be a father,” he says in amazement, holding your face in his huge hands. “How far along are you?”

“Not far. Just enough for the doctor to be sure.”

“So, that bug you have?”

“Morning sickness. It sucks and I’m not done with it. Luckily, today hasn’t been too bad.”

He nods, still smiling. Then his eyes widen. “Oh, I almost forgot!” he digs around in his pocket and pulls out a small black box. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

A lump forms in your throat as Sam gets off the couch and onto one knee, opening the box. “Y/N,” he says. “Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Sam Winchester?”

“Yes!” you squeal, throwing yourself into his arms. You kiss him soundly before pulling back to hold out your left hand. “Put it on me.”

Grinning, Sam takes the ring- a simple silver and diamond piece- from its box and slides it onto your finger. You hold your hand up so the ring catches the light.

“Mrs. Y/N Winchester,” you say. “It has a nice ring to it.”

That’s when Dean chooses to return. He stops in the doorway, brow furrowing when he sees you and Sam sitting on the floor. “What did I miss?”

The wedding is a small affair. Missouri calls not long after Sam proposes and insists on helping you plan it. Pastor Jim performs the ceremony. The boys rent tuxes, but you splurge and use some of your savings to buy your dress. It’s a simple white number, with a square collar and long sleeves. The ceremony is short, as neither you, nor Sam are overly religious.

After the wedding, which was only attending by a select few members of the hunting community, Missouri hosts a small reception at her house. Then you and Sam “honeymoon” at the nicest hotel available for a few nights.

A week after the wedding, you’re back on the road. This time, though, Sam is dead set on finding a safe house for you to stay in until the baby is born. You’re dead set on staying by your husband’s side. Dean is doing his best to remain neutral, though you’re pretty sure he’s on your side. It’s kind of a point of conflict.

“I don’t need protecting, Sam,” you say firmly.

“Y/N, baby, you know my past and have forgiven me for it. But there are a lot of Hunters out there who haven’t. If word gets out that you’re pregnant, there are some who will stop at absolutely nothing to stop our child from entering the world.”

“Then what better place for me to be than by your side? Sam, locking me up somewhere isn’t going to keep me or our child safe. It’s going to make me a sitting duck.”

“She has a point,” Dean admits, eyes still on the road. “If we put her in a safe house, we won’t be able to visit regularly and I’m not sure that’s a good thing while she’s pregnant.”

“Thank you, Dean,” you sigh. “Plus, if I’m in a safe house, what about all those refular check-ups I’m supposed to have? How do those work into your plan?”

Sam rubs his hands over his face. “Fine. You won’t go to a safe house. But no hunting.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’ve already dropped caffeine and alcohol, in case you haven’t noticed. Not hunting won’t be so bad.”

Not hunting is hard.

Just because you’re not hunting doesn’t mean the boys aren’t. Dean would go stir crazy without hunting and Sam’s not about to let him hunt alone. Which means you get left in a locked motel room while they take down the monster of the week. If that’s not stressful, you don’t know what is. Not only are you alone, but you’re pretty sure this sitting around and waiting for the boys to get back, hoping neither of them is hurt in either way, is not good for your health.

The doctor mentions it at your next appointment.

Dr. Morris is a kind older woman whose husband is a Hunter. She is actually an OB/GYN and, despite being retired, keeps her license up to date. She has a large amount of equipment stored in a room in her house where she sees patients. Sadly, you are not one of her free patients, but the bill is nowhere near as large as any other doctor would be.

“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, haven’t you?” she says while setting up the ultrasound. “Let me guess. You’ve stopped hunting, but your man here hasn’t.”

Sam shakes his head sheepishly. “No. My brother wants to keep hunting and I can’t let him hunt alone, nor are there any other Hunters I trust available to be his temporary partner.” he doesn’t mention that he thinks him not hunting would be a big red flag to any Hunters who may mean me or our child harm.

“Well, you’re going to have to figure something out, because leaving her alone in the motel room while you’re off risking your life on a weekly basis is not good on her health. Now, let’s take a look at the littlest Winchester.”

You leave the appointment with several ultrasound printouts in your pocket and Sam’s big hand curled around yours. You feel better, but not much. Sam hasn’t said a whole lot since Dr. Morris talked to him.

“Sam?” you prompt in a soft voice.

“Why did you tell me that my hunting was stressing you out?”

“Because I didn’t want to distract you. You’ve had so much on your mind recently. I didn’t want to add more.”

He stops, turning to face you. “Sweetheart, you and the baby are my priority. I need to know when something is wrong so I can make it better.” He cups your face in his hands. “If you need me to, I will stop hunting. I’ll call up Bobby or Garth and have them be Dean’s temporary partner. I’ll still help with research, like you do, but no more killing monsters. Would you be okay with that?”

You nod, bringing your hands up to cover Sam’s and pressing a kiss to the inside of one wrist. “I would.”

Sam stops hunting. It’s hard on him, you know, but he pushes through and eventually you fall into a rhythm of sorts. You and Sam help with research, while Dean and Garth, who is a total sweetheart, take on the legwork. Everyone comes out happy.

You’re reaching the end of your first trimester when word finally gets out to the Hunter community that you’re pregnant with Sam’s kid- Jelly Bean, as you’ve taken to calling her. Well, Sam says it’s a her. You’re pretty sure you’re having a boy, but you won’t know for a few more months.

As soon as the news reaches the community, things really get tough. Dean takes on smaller cases so you can move around more often, staying as far ahead of anyone on your trail as possible. Sam never leaves you alone except when going to the bathroom. Your husband is an almost constant fixture at your side, his fox eyes taking in every detail of your surroundings in order to determine the presence of any threats. You go out less, as well. You go on morning walks with Sam to let you get some sun and fresh air, but he and you both prefer the safety of a motel room over the uncertainty of the outside world.

Within a month, there is most definitely someone on your trail. Dean’s not sure who, but he knows you’re being followed.

“It’s Gordon,” he announces one day when he returns from a food run. Garth is next door sleeping off some injuries from their most recent run in with a ghost.

Sam grits his teeth at the news. “Joy. We’d better move as soon as possible. We need to be as unpredictable as we can be.”

“Who’s Gordon?” you ask, chowing into your chicken sandwich.

“A Hunter with a grudge against Sam,” Dean explains. “He’s one of those guys who gets an idea stuck in his head and never lets it go. He’s also a sick son of a bitch who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Last time, he tried to blow Sam up, using me as bait. We managed to get him arrested, but looks like he’s out. He’s not going to be happy and he’s not going to be easy to lose.”

You nod, getting the picture. “We’d better get going, than.”

Dean was right. Gordon isn’t easy to lose. He follows your group through several states. You hate having any pattern to follow, but there are only so many ways you can visit Dr. Morris and eventually, he catches on. Which means the day you go to finally learn the gender of Jelly Bean, he’s waiting.

As soon as you step out of the Impala, a big black man is there, wrapping strong arms around your middle and dragging you away. You’re about to fight back when a cool circle presses against your temple.

“Gordon,” Sam says in a low, dangerous voice. “Let her go.”

“I’m doing the whole world a favor, Sam,” the man- Gordon- says. “This kid is going to be an abomination, just like its sperm donor. Getting rid of it is the only way.”

Dean is getting slowly out of the passenger seat, gun trained on Gordon. “Drop the gun,” he orders.

“If you move another step I’ll kill her as well as the little monster,” Gordon snaps. “And then- ack!”

He jerks behind you, grip loosening, and then slumps to the ground. You whirl to see Dr. Morris standing there, frying pan held up like she just hit him with it.

“I hate men like him,” she spits. “Come on, you three. The police are on their way. Sam, you and your brother are going to want to hide. Y/N, darling, you’ll probably have to talk to the cops. You’d better have a story ready. Dean, park the car somewhere else, will you?”

With that, she takes your hand and leads you inside.

The boys hide in the secret panic room Dr. Morris has in her basement while the police interview you. They’re very gentle, taking into mind your current condition. When they finally drive away, Gordon in the backseat, you slump over on Dr. Morris couch and sob. Within moments, Sam is by your side. He tenderly takes you in his arms and holds you until you calm down. Dr. Morris brings you a glass of water, which you gratefully accept, and suggest you go down to her examination room. Seeing your baby alive and well might help.

You go down to the room and Sam helps you up onto the table. Dean takes up a post on your other side, winding his fingers into those of the hand Sam doesn’t currently have a hold of. Surrounded by the two men you love the most, you begin to relax.

“Alright, ready?” Dr. Morris says, spreading the cool gel on your swollen belly.

“Ready,” you say with a nod. “Let’s find out.”

It takes a few minutes for Dr. Morris to get a good angle on the baby, but eventually she succeeds. “There we go. Looks like you’re having a baby girl.”

Sam cheers and pulls you in for a passionate kiss. Dean is laughing when you break apart and when you look up at your brother-in-law, he’s trying to discreetly wipe his eyes.

“A baby girl,” Sam murmurs, breath warm on your ear. “Told you so.”

After Gordon’s failed attempt, the hunting community gives you a wide berth. You’re not complaining. It’s wonderful to have the next five months pass in peace.

By the time your due date draws near, you’re more than ready to get this baby out. Dr. Morris has decided she wants you to stay with her for the few weeks before and after the due date, just to make sure everything goes well and she can be on hand when the baby does come.

Mary Deanna Winchester is born March 28 at 3:42 AM, after a long twenty-eight hour labor. Sam freaked out when you first began having contractions, worried about everything that could potentially go wrong, but you and Dean were able to calm him down. By hour twenty, Sam was the calm one and you were the one screaming. Mary will likely be your only child, as it’s not an experience any of you are eager to repeat. However, the look on Sam’s face when Dr. Morris asked if “Dad would like to cut the cord” and then the feeling of your baby girl in your arms for the first time made it all worth it.

Despite early- and current- worries on Sam’s part about not being a good father, your husband is a dream with his baby girl.

“Hello, princess,” he says, gently unbuckling her from her seat in the back of the Impala. Dean made some modifications to his Baby’s back seat in order to keep his favorite- and only, as you remind him regularly- niece as safe as possible. Mary squeals as her Daddy’s big hands tickle her sides, and then sweep her up into his arms. The newborn looks so tiny in comparison to your giant husband, who holds her with a tenderness one wouldn’t expect to find in a man of his size and upbringing. He gently pats her bum. “Oh, looks like someone’s in need of a diaper change. Let’s take care of that, shall we?”

You watch with a fond smile as he carries her into the gas station bathroom. You’re on your way to Bobby’s, where the old man has offered you his spare rooms for as long as you need them. Sam’s planning on picking up hunting again, but he wants to keep it low key. Just small, local hunts, with the occasional big hunt with Dean. He’s already got a job at the local library and has signed up for several online courses to get him back on his way to a law degree.

“Sam, I’m-”

“Shh,” Bobby says hastily, gesturing with his beer at the living room.

“What?” you ask quietly, setting the groceries on the kitchen counter.

“Go see for yourself.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, but peek into the living room. Your heart melts immediately.

Sam is asleep on the couch, one big hand keeping Mary safe where the baby, dressed only in her diaper, is sleeping on her dad’s bare chest. Looks like he wanted some skin-on-skin time and ended up taking a nap.

Smiling to yourself, you whip out your phone and take several pictures of the sight. You set the best one as your wallpaper and send the other to Dean. He won’t say so, but he’ll think it’s adorable.

Nine Months Later

“Hi, princess,” Sam says, coming down the stairs. Mary is in her high chair, grasping awkwardly at some chunky toys while you make breakfast. He crouches down so he’s more on her level. “Whatcha got there?” She waves a bright orange ring in his face and he chuckles. “You’re so silly.”

“Da-da,” she says, banging the ring on the tray.

You and Sam exchange a surprised look. “What was that?” he says, getting her attention again. “Say it again, princess.”

“Da-da,” she proclaims, almost proudly.

Sam grins wildly, hastily unbuckling her so her can scoop her up. “Your first word! That’s great, princess!” he brings Mary over to you. “Did you hear that, Mommy? Mary said her first word.”

“She did indeed,” you say, kissing the baby’s head.

“What’s going on?” Dean says, appearing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Mary said her first word,” Sam announces.

“She did, huh? What word?”

“Da-da,” Mary says. “Da-da, da-da, da-da.”

You giggle as Dean begins attempting to get Mary to say “De” next and she loudly protests with a resounding, though probably not fully understood, “No!”

Four Years Later

“Don’t wanna go!”

“Why not, princess?” Sam asks, crouched down to put himself on the level of his now four-year-old daughter.

“Cos doctors are scawy,” Mary informs him, kicking her legs a little where they dangle off the couch.

“They are, huh? What makes you say that?”

“Johnny as schoowl says they have big needles they poke you with so you cwy.”

“Oh, princess, what have we told you about listening to Johnny?”

“Not ta,” she admits.

“That’s right. Are you still scared?”

She nods. “A wittle bit.”

“Hmmm. I think I have just the thing to help you out with that. Sit here. I’ll be right back.”

You watch with amusement from the kitchen as he darts upstairs. Mary waits as patiently as a four-year-old can, little head of dark curls bobbing as she bounces on the cushion.

Finally, Sam comes bounding down the stairs in a set of scrubs and a white coat, remains of his costume from the company Halloween party two years ago.

“Tada,” he says, standing in front of Mary with his arms wide. You suppress a giggle. “This is what doctors way. Do I look scary to you?”

Mary shakes her head. “No.”

“Exactly. See, doctors aren’t scary at all. Besides, I’ll be right there to protect you the whole time.”

“Pwomise?”

“Pinky promise,” he says, crouching down to hold out her pinky. She solemnly wraps her own tiny one around it. “Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Oh, and did I mention, doctors usually give out candy?”

“Daddy, Daddy!”

Sam smiles as Mary bounces across the room to where he’s standing, checking emails on his phone. “What’s up, princess?”

“I wanna be tall like you!” she proclaims, holding her arms up. “You not busy, right?” The sweet child is always worried she’s going to interrupt Sam’s work.

“Not at all,” he assures her. He turns off his phone and sets it on the counter. “Ready to be tall?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, up we go!”

You watch over the top of your book as Sam swings a giggling Mary up to sit on his shoulders. She clutches his chin in her little hands to steady herself, his big hands wrapped around her legs.

“Unca Dean!” she says as the man in question comes down the stairs. “I tall!”

“Yes, you are, Jelly Bean,” he says with a chuckle. “How did you grow so fast? Did you drink a magic potion?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “No, Unca Dean!”

“No magic, huh? That’s good. Are you wearing stilts?”

“No! It’s Daddy! He’s helping me be tall!”

“He is? Where is he?” Dean feigns cluelessness, looking around the kitchen in strange places for the “missing Daddy.”

You smile and return to your book.

Tagged: @kittenofdoomage @teamfreewill-imagine @ilostmyshoe-79 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @not-moose-one-shots @supernaturalfanfix @basic-joy @keepingitrealcas @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @love-kittykat21 @manawhaat @mrswhozeewhatsis