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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Omega Mine

TITLE: Omega Mine

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Loosely based on: Imagine Loki discovers the Avengers have an omega who has healing powers living with them. He’s an Alpha and he wants her, badly.

RATING: M (eventually )

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

“Nope, nope, fuck no. Why do all these companies suck?” You grumbled to yourself as you scrolled through job posting after job posting on your laptop. You were sitting on your bed absently eating a slice of pizza in your pajamas while you searched. You were hunting through the job listings looking for a company in search of an Omega.

That wasn’t at all atypical. Businesses that employed a lot of Alphas needed Omegas on staff to help keep the balance and the peace. Betas could only do so much against volatile Alpha tempers.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your current job, but it just wasn’t the right fit. You’d worked at a few different companies since you’d graduated from college. The companies were all glad to have you around, but none of them had felt like the right fit. That was also typical. It took a few tries to find Alphas who really fit and felt like safety and home. It took longer to find such Alphas in an environment where you could use your degree or your magic, or something that made you more than just a typical Omega.

It could take forever or absolutely no time at all to find the Alpha. The one who was your mate and meant to be your love.

You hadn’t had any luck finding your Alpha yet, just as you hadn’t found the right company to work for. You’d temped a couple places as an admin, even though it wasn’t anything to do with your degree. You were now working again as an assistant and getting pretty tired of all omega jobs only being assistants or menial labor. There was nothing of substance. That made sense. Usually, Omegas couldn’t hold higher level positions. Alphas ruled and Omegas were cared for, by nature and by nurture. On the other hand, Omegas were the balance for an Alpha’s temper. They cared for the heart of the people, while the Alphas cared for the physical safety.

Any of the castes could marry any of the others and Omegas finally had some rights in the US, but the world was still highly unfair toward your caste. Omegas couldn’t own a house, for instance, or rent an apartment in your name. You could earn money and have a bank account of your own, thanks to the laws that had passed, but a lot of the world was still stuck in the old ways of thinking Omegas nothing more than pets. Or glorified sex slaves. Thankfully, things were changing slowly, but surely.

You lived in an Omega-house with other unclaimed Omega girls and walked every day to the office nearby where you worked. There was a Beta who acted as house mother as it was determined that Omegas couldn’t be trusted to care for themselves, so you weren’t allowed to live on your own. Despite that you were a college grad with a job.

It was either the Omega-house or still living with your Father. And that wasn’t an option. Not after you’d finally escaped to go to college at one of the universities that had accepted Omega students.

There was a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, but that didn’t mean one of the other Omega girls didn’t want to come visit, or the Beta coming to check on you. “Coming!” You called and set your piece of pizza back on the plate, wiping your hands quickly as you got to your feet. You padded silently over to the door, your steps light, despite the interruption. You opened the door to see the Beta on the other side. Your new house mother. “Hello, Beta Ann,” you greeted her politely. She was new and stuffy and still old-school enough that she wanted to be addressed by her title every time anyone spoke to her.

She gave you a warm matronly smile. It was a bit condescending. “Hello, dear,” she always spoke down to the Omegas, as if you couldn’t understand what she was saying. “I received your message that you wish to look for a new position?” She made it a question. It was her job to help you find something. Sometimes she could have better connections than the websites that the Omegas could access.

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, ma’am,” you replied politely. She really was stuffy and old schooled, but if she could help you… you’d be polite. “It isn’t that I dislike my position. It’s just… not the right fit,” you explained quickly, hoping she would understand.

She nodded sympathetically and looked over the clipboard she was carrying. “You’ve been in that position six months, I see. Yes, that’s plenty of time to realize it’s not the right fit,” she agreed. She looked up at you again. “I was actually going to speak with you regardless. A position crossed my desk that I thought you would be a good fit for, given your abilities,”

You perked up at that. A position for your abilities? Your skills? Not just because you were an Omega? “Really? What position?” You asked eagerly. You tried not to appear too eager. That would be impolite. It was a tentative balance.

“There is a group who is looking for an Omega. It’s a live-in position. All room and board is covered on top of a generous salary. They are specifically looking for someone with medical background and your healing abilities are very appealing to them,”

Medical background and healing?

And a proper home?

It sounded absolutely perfect.

“I’m definitely interested, ma’am,” you told her brightly.

She nodded her agreement. “Very good, dear. I’ll let them know and set up the interview for you. I’m sure it will just be a formality,”

Most Omega interviews were. The Alphas in charge didn’t need to interview, not really. They just needed to catch your scent or psychic scent and determine if you would fit in with their tempers and soothe their needs.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you told her politely. She gave you another condescending smile before she left you to set things up.

A few days later, you found yourself in front of your mirror adjusting your suit’s jacket for the billionth time before your interview. The suit looked good on you, and professional. Though you still knew that you had that Omega air about you. An Alpha or Beta could identify you on scent, on sight, even without the collar around your neck.

All Omegas were required to wear a collar once they presented as an Omega. Puppies (children) presented their secondary gender, their caste, officially toward the end of puberty, usually around 16 or 17 years old. There were usually signs before that of what a puppy would be when they matured and you’d heard that there was a test that puppies could take now to determine what they would present as.

The collar you wore was the generic collar every Omega wore until they were claimed by an Alpha. It was silver and plain, thin, not heavy at all, but you would never forget it was there, not since the day it had been locked on. Only an Alpha could remove it. And only your Alpha would, when you were claimed and mated, only to put his or her own collar on in its place. It was still a holdover from the old laws. You’d never gotten a good answer as to why. You always got some bullshit reason about knowing who to protect. Omegas were more rare than Alphas or Betas, so you weren’t surprised the law hadn’t changed.

There was nothing you could do about it. And it wasn’t ugly. But it did single you out as an unclaimed Omega. Especially at your age. There was no specific age to find your Alpha, but most Omegas you knew your own age were already claimed.

You knew it made you a target. You could be claimed against your will, mated against you will, if you didn’t already have an Alpha. That didn’t mean you were going to settle.

That was also why the company was sending a car to pick you up for your interview. Beta Ann had said that a Beta security guard from the company to escort you safely to and from the interview.

You made sure you had your phone in your purse as well as your resume before you headed out of the house. You said goodbye to Beta Ann and only left once the Beta security guard, a many named Happy of all things, rang the bell to collect you.

Your eyes widened when you saw the limo that was waiting to take you to the interview. What the hell kind of company was this? The information hadn’t been passed along to you. You didn’t know of Beta Ann knew or not. She didn’t deem it important enough information to tell you if she did know.

Happy opened the limo’s door for you and you thanked him softly and politely as you took the seat inside. He gave you the warm smile everyone gave Omegas. They couldn’t help it. Your presence was soothing to everyone. He shut the door behind you and got in the driver’s seat. Soon you were driving through the city, toward the city center. You watched out the window with interest, curious as to where this company could be. What this company could be.

You didn’t know what you were expecting.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t your limo stopping at the VIP parking in front of the Avengers’ tower. It wasn’t the press that were staked out to catch pictures of the superheroes and anyone who came to visit the tower. It wasn’t Happy parking in that VIP section and coming around to open your door again for you.

The Avengers.

You were interviewing for the Avengers.

You couldn’t believe your luck. This really was the perfect opportunity.

You understood immediately that this was a test.

An Omega who couldn’t handle the press, couldn’t handle the surprise of showing up at the tower, who broke down at any little uncertainty or surprise, wasn’t an Omega that would work out for the team and wouldn’t be what they needed.

Desperately in your soul, you knew that this was what you needed and you vowed to do anything in your power to make sure you got this job.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Omega mine #chapter 1 #nekoamamori

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qwanderer · 4 years ago

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Loki in the Hall of Mirrors

This story is complicated. Not, like, as a plot, not particularly, but philosophically and thematically. It's got that great play of hero against villain that I love about the Loki story in general and that makes it all so divisive and messy. And I love it even more than I did on first watch.

The first time I watched the desert landing scene, I was like, "Wait? What happened to Allspeak?" because the people who live there don't seem to understand him. But on the second watch, I realized it could be a lack of context, rather than a break in translation. These people probably have an even chance of knowing nothing about Norse myth. Like, what if an alien came up to you and said "I am Boogle of Bofgar, I carry a burden"? You would still have questions like "What the hell is a boogle and why are you carrying your shit here?" So the basic dynamic of Allspeak is probably still functioning, and Loki probably understood their questions, but he was still trying to figure out how to answer when he got distracted by the TVA people.

It could even be an innate psychic ability rather than a magical one, as he seems to understand everyone in the TVA, including the man who can't be fluent in all languages like the field agents because he has never heard of a fish and the seemingly nonverbal robot. (Which of course makes me want Loki talking with Dum-E and the other shop bots! But I digress.)

Okay. I want to start talking about the next-level manipulation shit the TVA are pulling on Loki here. Time, as they say, moves differently in the TVA, and one might even assume that they can avoid having to deal with more variants at once than they can handle. And yet we see them dealing with exactly two other troublemakers during Loki's onboarding.

The first, I'm going to call little echo man.

Little echo man is incredibly annoying to Loki, because he does and says everything Loki might find himself inclined to do and say if he wanted to be difficult. Little echo man does these things in little annoying undignified ways, making them look silly and petulant. Little echo man protests and questions and pushes back, in his business suit and his long dark hair and pale skin, and clearly thinks everyone should treat him as important even though every indication is that he is an annoyance and an afterthought.

Perhaps he's a plant, and perhaps he's just a variant of an annoying but predictable regular they see who they lined up at the same time on purpose. But he is on purpose. Everything he does screams directly at Loki, "Don't do this."

We'll get to the second convenient intersection later.

The most obvious layer of manipulation is simply the beraucracy. They put him up against a series of obstacles which he needs to deal with to get anywhere else, and nothing he does can get him past those obstacles except compliance. All of these obstacles have personality, but they are not personable. They treat Loki like a bag of trash they have been tasked with taking to the curb. Annoying, distasteful, but ultimately routine. His silver tongue isn't going to get him anywhere because these people simply don't care.

I think a lot of these he just goes along with to see where it gets him, since at this point he still believes he has his magic in reserve. But the fact that he steps through the robot fryer even though he thinks he might be a robot without knowing (as others have pointed out, he spent thousands of years as a frost giant without knowing it, and he's recently spent time in the control of the being who shaped Nebula) is a testament to how deep they've already got their hooks in him.

They treat the robot fryer like it's routine, but come the next obstacle, they kill little echo man like it's routine, too. Because he didn't comply.

Loki is slowly being ironed flat to thread into their compliance mill.

And then - I love this, because it reminds me of one of my favorites among the multiplicity of Lokis, GoS!Loki - they put this line in as punctuation between the impersonal, compliance, don't phase of their manipulation and everything that comes after it.

When he's set before the judge, someone actually paying some attention to him, this is his chance to use his silver tongue on someone who will listen. But, although the judge listens, she treats him the same as all the other obstacles have - like listening is a distasteful chore she would like to be done with.

So it seems like the perfect moment for a dramatic escape. Except his magic is gone.

"It's not your story," the judge says. "It never was."

That hammers in all the worst things Loki has ever believed about himself - that he stands in the shadows of others, that he will never have the central place he was raised to desire, that he is, and always will be, a villain to be vanquished rather than a person with choices and agency.

Enter Mobius.

Mobius is a big echo.

He draws all the attention in a room. He is everything that Loki wishes to be - he is powerful, informed, prepared, in control. Capable of charming the judge. And most importantly, he is actively interested in Loki.

At this point in Loki's journey - both in the show and in his life - that has to be irresistible.

So Mobius is in a perfect position to wrap Loki right around his pinky finger.

He listens to Loki without shutting him down, the way all the obstacles have. When Loki tells Mobius he's going to burn down the TVA, Mobius suggests a couple of places he might want to start. One concrete, small, mischievous. One an indication that he's open to Loki doing larger, more significant things here in the future.

He shows Loki his own past and future - but carefully edited, to paint a particular picture.

So many echoes, so many reflections - Loki is in a house of mirrors. Lost, disoriented. Distorted one way, then the other. Magnified and examined.

Loki snarks, and Mobius comments, "Makes you sound smart." Affirms Loki for that little mischievous bit of personality.

Mobius shows Loki some of the most terrible things he's done, and questions them. Pushes Loki away from them. Then changes direction before he can get too heavy-handed, to basically fangirl over the DB Cooper adventure. That's mischief. That's good. I like that.

Punishes him for a small infraction, just to remind him who is in control and that even looking threatening could be seen as a problem.

I think it was at about this point that I got hard reminded of the dynamics of the show White Collar. It's a buddy cop show on a basic level and sometimes the relationship can be very sweet, but sometimes Peter spends one too many times reminding Neal that he can send him back to prison any time he wants and the power dynamic shows its messed up edges.

Mobius is part of the machine, and the machine is doing terrible things to Loki, but I have at least a sliver of hope that the relationship could gain more balance - more genuine balance, not based on the faux freedom that Loki has gained by the end of the episode. There's something to be said for making changes to a system from within that system, but for that to be meaningful change, Mobius would have to change as a person.

Anyway, this current nastily powerful Mobius pushes Loki as hard as he can, and then is conveniently interrupted by the actions of another variant, leaving Loki alone with his remote.

It could easily have been on purpose. The only thing Loki learns by escaping that room is that the TVA is more powerful than any force in the universe, in his experience.

Let's talk about the other Loki variant for a minute. It took me until the second viewing to realize the symbolism of leaving a small child the only survivor in a place of worship, then giving her something to turn her blue.

Odin said he found Loki in a temple, in the aftermath of a battle.

It's actually frighteningly easy to imagine how a distraught Loki could get to a place where he feels the need to genuinely burn down the TVA, and kill every agent in it. Because the TVA put certain clips in his little future show, focusing on the death of his mother, the way his own actions affected it, and the futility and brutality of his own death at the hands of Thanos.

They don't show him the destruction of Asgard, his own role in helping save the evacuees, and the way Thanos decimated the population of that transport before it could even reach Earth. They don't show him the devastation of his home or his capacity to do good.

A Loki who knows that the power of the TVA exists and that he has the capacity to be Asgard's heroic savior would do anything to get that power and save his people.

But we haven't met that Loki yet. I'm sure we will, and it's going to be exhilarating.

This Loki is being taught the importance of control over little things, and so when he gets his collar off and onto that guard, he toys with her, just to see that he can. They have been toying with him and it's oh so satisfying to turn the tables. But it's still compliance in its own way, the petty little mischief that Mobius has been steering him towards.

Loki has been given just enough freedom, just enough choices, that it seems like his own choice to watch the rest of the slide show and come to the obvious conclusion - there's no "out" to go to. His life has gone on without him, and ended. And there's really no point in his trying to fix it. No putting things back the way they were.

So he admits to Mobius - the person who has listened hardest, probably, besides his mother - he admits that he is small and scared and lashing out. That he doesn't know what to do.

Of course, this is when Mobius introduces the task the TVA has for Loki - to take down his other self.

Oh, I can't wait for the next episode! I want to know where this is going.

(I've popped in some panels from Loki: Agent of Asgard because it's my favorite and the show is giving me feelings about it.)

#the loki show #the loki series #agent mobius #loki #loki meta #spoilers #loki spoilers #loki show spoilers #aoa #gos!loki #marvel

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ispyspookymansion · 3 years ago

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sam (winchester) <3

How I feel about this character

SAM IS MY BEST FRIEND. SAM WINCHESTER IS MY BESTIE HE IS MY EVERYTHING. he has never done anything wrong he is unwell he has so many complexes he is lgbt all at once i imprinted on him at age 13 like a baby duck and he will never leave my heart or mind <3 he is UNDERAPPRECIATED and not understood by many spn fans and too many sam stans are freaks so i pick up the slack by being completely insane over him but also not a weirdo

All the people I ship romantically with this character

okokok i love saileen they are so fucking good for each other she is a badass and she is so sweet and calls him on his shit and shes funny and they make each other happy they literally could have settled into a life together. next we have rowena who is so incredible good for her for having sam strain winchester derangement i love that sam turned crowley down with a hard no and then fucked his mom about it. their entire storyline is so sweet and compelling and yes before you ask saileena is also incredible. samruby fucks as a toxic relationship within the bounds of canon i love it and dont want it to exist outside of that/feel the need to give it a redemption or anything

My non-romantic OTP for this character

sam and cas weird girl bestie moments i think they should just be SO fucking weird together. they are individually quite rational and smart usually but i think together they would do shit like hey lets see what happens if you drink angel blood :) also i think that in good spn sam mentors magda and that is very good in my mind

My unpopular opinion about this character

i think that while sam’s arc got less interesting and jared’s acting did get worse after ~s5, to say that sam has nothing after that is blatantly untrue and you CAN find the compelling gems if you look hard enough. also he isnt the token cishet you stupid assholes look at his studded denim shirt look at his gay little auras look at his obsession with being impure he is lgbt (all at once)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

i really really wish sam’s ending had been better of COURSE but specifically i love sam becoming a witch and also a leader like. i think hunting as an institution needs to end and i think that sam should go full witch, set up the bunker as a hub for academic and practical resources (especially for monsters he is going to break down the horrible roles and actually try to make right what has been wrong), and start trying to contact, connect, and organize hunters for the purposes of making “hunting” into a neater and kinder system that actually aims to protect and help those who need it. being a witch is instrumental because it by DEFINITION blurs the line between hunteer and monster and forced the redefinition of good and evil. and yes he DID get his psychic powers back because fuck you witch shit helped him tap back into it

send me a character!

#love that we sent each other our respetive little winchester guy soooo true <3 #sorry for being unhinged abt sam its not my fault :(#finalenby #asks #ask memes #kora.txt #long post #spn #<- so my mutuals dont have to see it shsbsjsk ik a few of you have that blacklisted

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lowkeyaesthvtic · 4 years ago

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Brainless - KINKTOBER Day 3

Day 3: Mind Control

Fandom: MHA (My Hero Academia)

Pairing: Shinsou x Kaminari

Summary: Kaminari’s having a stressful time with his Pro Hero work. Shinsou has the perfect solution.

Word Count: 2,209

Prompt by: @lustyargonianmaid

NOTES: CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Shinsou immediately took off his mask as he entered his apartment. He huffed a sigh of relief as he completed his first week of Pro-Hero patrolling. He thought it’d be the same as some of the sidekick work he completed with Aizawa during his third year at UA, but it was nowhere near the sort. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but he was more than happy to be at home for the weekend. He was more than ready to spend the next two days relaxing with his beloved boyfriend and hero partner. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Shinsou heard Kaminari nearly shouting in frustration, something that was incredibly rare and out of character for the budding hero. “No, officer I promise you I sent the report in last night! No, seriously, don’t put me on hold. I promise you I can -” Shinsou had guessed that the officer on the phone had gone against Kaminari’s wishes, considering the next phrase Kaminari spoke was barely understandable, but incredibly audible. Shinsou calmly stripped off most of his hero costume, leaving him in a black shirt and black pants. He slowly walked over to their shared bedroom and tapped on the door.

“Denki? I’m home.” He spoke as he opened the door, concerned by what he saw. Loads of papers scattered across their in-bedroom office desk and a rarely angry Kaminari about to throw his phone to the ground. Kaminari turned his head to see Shinsou coming in and near instantly tried to cover up his anger.

“Hitoshi! Hey, babe! How was patrolling?”

“Well, I’m glad it’s the weekend. What’s more important is what’s going on with you. You’re never angry, D.” Kaminari tried once more to shrug everything off, giving a look to say that everything was going fine. But Shinsou could see straight through him, his boyfriend was never good at lying about whether or not he was fine.

“I filled out this super long incident report from a hostage situation last week to send into the police station. Now they’re saying they never received it. So I have to do the whole damn thing all over again before the villains’ trial or the station’s going to get a whole bunch of bad publicity. That, of which, will fall onto me. They’ll never want to help me with a mission again!” Kaminari rambled to the point of speed talking as he paced around the room, as if his boyfriend wasn’t with him. Shinsou walked over towards Kaminari and placed his hands firmly on his shoulders, holding the shorter one in place.

“Denki, breathe. You’ll short circuit if you work yourself up this much.” His voice was low and rough when he spoke, but Kaminari understood the genuine concern underneath. He sighed and slowly walked over to the bed, letting himself fall and lay face flat on top of the comforter. It humored Shinso a bit, seeing how Kaminari was able to make such a joke out of his own emotions. Regardless of that, he was still incredibly concerned. He walks over to the bed and lays down on his back, turning his head to face Kaminari. “Have you ever thought of taking a break?”

“You can’t just take a break from being a hero. I have to be responsible now. Not gonna lie, it kind of sucks! It makes me miss the days at UA where I could go brainless and not feel like I’m risking people’s lives by doing so.” Brainless. That word immediately gave Shinsou an idea. He’d have to ask first, make sure everything was okay with Kaminari and that he’d feel comfortable with whatever would happen. But if he was okay with it, Shinsou had something he would love to try.

“Maybe you can’t take a break for long. But, I might have an idea on how to make you feel better.” Shinsou cooed, his low, raspy voice slowly nearing Kaminari’s ear. He leaned upward from the bed and sat gently atop the other’s lower back, beginning to knead into his tense shoulders. Kaminari let out an exhale at the contact, needing something...anything to distract him from the discourse going on in his mind.

“What were you thinking?” Poor Kaminari. So incredibly oblivious. Shinsou ran a hand through the yellow hair, raising another sigh of content from the hero beneath him. He slowly lowered his hands back down to Kaminari’s shoulders, then his back, then his lower back.

“Well, clearly this paperwork thing has you stressed out. You said you missed the times where you could go brainless and feel no judgement. What you seem to have forgotten, Denki, is that you have an amazing boyfriend who knows how to do just that.” Kaminari paused, turning his head to the side so he could face Shinsou as much as possible. They had talked before about using their quirks in the bedroom, even went through with using Kaminari’s, but they had never had a thorough conversation about using Shinsou’s quirk in that way. He definitely wouldn’t mind it. He was already the more submissive one so it’s not like much would change. But a part of him longed for that warm, fuzzy feeling he’d get after going too many rounds. That mix of pain and pleasure where your head feels like it’s in the clouds and you can barely form a proper sentence. To feel like that the entire time? Sounded good to him.

“You’re talking about brainwashing me and then fucking me...right?” Kaminari spoke candidly, earning a small laugh from the other. Shinsou hopped off of Kaminari and used his strength to turn the shorter one onto his back.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Is that okay with you?” Kaminari’s breath hitched at the sudden movements. But as soon as he looked up at Shinsou, who glared down at him with the perfect mix of gentle admiration and fiery lust, he could already feel himself getting hard. Without a second thought, Kaminari leaned up and began stripping off his shirt. He leaned up and collided his lips with Shinsou’s, gently cupping his face as he did so.

“Fuck yeah, it’s okay with me.” Kaminari quickly responded before smashing their lips together once more. He didn’t want it right away, though. He wanted to feel his partner grow more and more feral, knowing it’d make the payoff that much better. Shinsou started stripping off his clothes as well, inviting his tongue into Kaminari’s mouth. The two couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Kaminari went to wrap his arms around Shinsou’s neck, but was pushed down onto the bed in the blink of an eye. The psychic hero quickly stripped off his pants, leaving him only in boxers. He slowly snaked up Kaminari’s body, kissing and sucking on his exposed skin before getting to the waistline of the other’s pants. He looks up at Kaminari, a little hesitant at what they’re about to do.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Because once I start, you won’t be able to do anything unless I tell you to.”

“Yeah, I’m okay with it! You know what I like and what I don’t. I trust you, ‘Toshi.” Kaminari smiled as he responded. Damn, Shinsou loved that smile. There was something about the way Kaminari’s usually positive attitude contrasted his quiet and rough demeanor. An ‘opposites attract’ sort of thing that others were confused about when the pair first made things official. But it was beautiful to them. Shinsou took a deep breath, ready to activate his quirk; the second Kaminari answered his next question.

“So, are you going to let me in?” Kaminari gulped, both nervous and excited about what was about to happen. He’d feel everything, but he knew it’d be different. Would he even be able to say anything? It didn’t matter. He needed the stress relief and he needed it now.

“Yeah, I’m -” Kaminari’s response was interrupted with his own choked breath as the quirk flipped a switch in his brain. It felt weird at first. His head leaned back as he felt all the tension in his body leaving him. His head felt light and fuzzy, like a freezing body being covered with a blanket. Nothing but a pure wave of relief. Shinsou smiled, tucking a strand of his boyfriend’s hair behind his now blank and pliant face.

“God, you’re beautiful like this. Why don’t you take these boxers off and stroke yourself for me, baby.” Kaminari immediately followed his words, not like he’d be able to do anything else. An uncontrollable sigh left his lips as Kaminari began stroking, starting slow at first. Shinsou snaked up the boy’s body and stripped off his boxers, letting his hard on free itself. “I’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth of yours so well, baby. You’re gonna take me in your mouth, aren’t you?” As he heard those words, Kaminari wrapped his lips around the length and began working his tongue everywhere he could, his mind relishing in the pleased grunts coming from the man above him. As Shinsou began to thrust into Kaminari’s mouth, the electric hero instinctively picked up his stroking pace.

Their moans quickly began to fill the room. Kaminari unable to hold back and Shinsou unable to give a shit about who heard the two of them. “I’d ask how you were feeling, but you can’t talk with my cock in your mouth, can you?” Shinsou groaned out, his thrusts growing rougher and less rhythmic. He wanted more, so much more. He had to be inside Kaminari and he had to be inside of him soon. Much to both of their disappointment, Shinsou took his cock out of Kaminari’s mouth as he leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from their dresser drawer. He placed the bottle in Kaminari’s hand and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Here’s what I want you to do. You’re going to lube up those fingers and fuck yourself open for me, and I’m going to stroke this cock while I watch. You won’t stop until I say so. You won’t come until I say so. And don’t hold back, I love the noises you make for me.” That last sentence earned a moaned cry from the other. He felt so fuzzy and light in his head, but his body felt like it was going to sink into the bed. If he weren’t so focused on pleasing himself and his boyfriend, Kaminari swore he’d be able to fall asleep like this. He followed every one of Shinsou’s requests, his pleasure spiking as he felt his own fingers enter him.

Seeing Kaminari so obedient only made Shinsou want him more. He began to stroke himself, watching every inch of Kaminari’s twitch and tense up as he moved his fingers in and out. Neither of them started off gently, wanting nothing more than to reach that peak of release. Shinsou’s grunts became especially loud, signalling that he was close to release. But he wouldn’t let himself come before getting to feel Kaminari’s tight hole clench around him. “Stop, baby. You’re open and ready for me, aren’t you?” Yes, Kaminari thought to himself. I am more than ready...please. He wanted to scream and beg so badly, yet he couldn’t say a word. Shinsou looked down at Kaminari’s lubed up hole, biting his lip in anticipation. Shinsou lined his cock up to the entrance, slowly thrusting into Kaminari inch by inch. Kaminari, unable to hold back his noises, yelped in a mix of pain and pleasure. With barely any movement, he could already feel the tingly, bubbly feeling of release rising in his stomach. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last. Once Shinsou had fully entered him, he began to slowly move in and out. He didn’t want to be slow, however. He craved the faces his boyfriend made when his mind was being blown. “God, you’re so tight around me. How good does it feel, baby?”

“S-so....hot. S-so good.” Given he was asked to speak, Kaminari was relieved to finally tell his partner how amazing everything felt. The pleasure coursing through his veins was thicker than his own blood. He even started to feel small sparks of electricity crackling around his body, heightening every sensation. Shinsou noticed this electricity, nearly getting shocked by the volts surrounding them.

“You’re going to short circuit, aren’t you? Get all dumb for me? That’s exactly what you wanted, darling. I promise you you’ll get it.” Shinsou could barely get these words up as he started to thrust rougher and deeper into Kaminari, brushing up against his prostate. Their moans skyrocketed as the two reached their climax together, Kaminari bringing a mild shock to the both of them as they did so. Tired and pleasure-filled, Shinsou lifted the control on Kaminari and collapsed next to him on the bed.

“‘Toshi….h-holy shit.”

“Better?”

“S-so much better..I can b-barely speak.” Shinsou laughed as he went to grab a towel, cleaning Kaminari off with gentle care. He laid back down next to the younger hero and covered the both of them with a blanket as he snuggled close next to him.

“Good. Get some sleep, baby, we’ll worry about your paperwork later.”

#mha #bnha #mha smut #bnha smut #shinsou hitoshi #kaminari denki #shinsou x denki #shinsou hitoshi smut #kaminari denki smut #shinsou x denki smut #kinktober #kinktober 2020

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winchesterwords · 4 years ago

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“You and I” John Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: Set before the boys raid the vampire nest to get the colt, John visits you to get insight on which vamps have it. Owning a bar, you are a highway of information for the supernatural and an “old friend” of johns. How will he react around you while his sons meet you for the first time?

Word Count: 3753

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, lil steamy moment

Song I Wrote To: “You and I” by Lady Gaga

Note: This is a bit canon divergence but I liked the concept. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t write smut, but I hope this lil steamy moment was okay. I don’t see enough John fics on here or ao3 so I wanted to do something. I wish we would have gotten more of his character. Tho i think that’s just cause I love JDM so much.

-------

In the dark of a lone American road, a 67’ Impala rolled along the rain-slicked street.

“You have that look on your face again,” Dean Winchester said, looking over at his brother. Sam turned to him, confused.

“What look?” he asked.

“The look that says you want to either punch Dad or punch him twice,” Dean said with a knowing glance.

“I just don’t get why he won’t tell us where we’re going,” Sam said with a deep sigh as he stared at the taillights of their father’s truck ahead of them. “He just has to make everything so damn mysterious.” Dean laughed as his thumbs drummed on the steering wheel.

“You’re just realizing that now, Sammy? Dad has always been like this, but he knows what he’s doing. Always does.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sam grumbled and Dean rolled his eyes. In their search for the colt, they had gotten word that the break-in was perpetrated by a nest of vampires. The problem was, they weren’t sure where to start when it came to the bloodsuckers. Then, John had mentioned he knew someone who could give them a hand. That was all he said before jumping in his truck and telling his boys to follow him. Sam and Dean had done what they were told and revved the Impala’s engine, but now, Sam was getting restless.

----

John Winchester drove with an eagerness.

He knew where he was going. He had the route memorized no matter which direction he was coming from. You were the kind of woman that he couldn’t forget even if he tried. There was something about the way you didn’t take any bullshit when it came to anyone. Then there was the fact that you handled a sawed-off shotgun as well as any hunter he had ever met. John always liked keeping you to himself, his own personal getaway when things were getting a bit too dark for his tastes.

However, unfortunately, this visit would not be a social one. He needed your help and he was running out of options to find the colt. If anyone knew where to find a vamp nest with a desire for a mystical gun, it would be you.

John hit the gas and sped down the road, keeping Sam and Dean in his rearview mirror. He was actually nervous for once. There was so much of his life that he kept private from his sons. Dean knew a bit more than Sam, but they didn’t know about you. They didn’t know about how you had saved his life twice or that you had asked him to stay with you on multiple occasions, but he couldn’t. You always understood that he had a mission to complete. Not just for Mary, but for his boys as well and you respected that even when all you wanted was a bit more time with the man, just as he did with you.

Turning off the highway, John rolled into a town that seemed like coming home. Dean followed him through the winding streets as John drove straight for your bar. You had owned “The Iron Outpost” since before you had met the eldest Winchester. The entire building was lined with pure iron to keep unwanted spirits at bay. Not to mention the devil’s traps at both entrances and holy water you added to all the drinks.

You were pretty lenient with most supernaturals such as wolves, witches, even the odd vampire on occasion, but demons was where you drew the line. They never got past the door and if they tried, they would be met by you or your business partner, Dawn, who was also a hunter. The two of you had become an information highway for everything going on in the supernatural world and that was why the Winchesters were now at your doorstep.

Parking in front of the Outpost, John got out of his truck just as his sons pulled in. Sam still looked annoyed as he got out of the Impala, but Dean just looked confused. “Alright, Dad,” Dean said, “what’s going on? Who is this secret contact of yours.”

“Never said she was a secret, Dean,” John said, “I just said you had never met her.”

“She?” Sam asked.

“She’s a hunter,” John said, nodding towards the front door. “Sort of.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before following John into the bar. It was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night. The low hum of conversation rolled throughout the room as drinks were poured and food was served. Dean immediately spotted the odd charms that hung around the main entrance, as well as the warding symbols carved into the door frame.

There were two levels in the place and people milled about on both floors, smiling and drinking their fill. It was a typical place to find hunters and Dean immediately loved it. Sam was still a bit skeptical but remained optimistic that this place would offer answers.

John searched the floor for you, but could only spot Dawn as she worked behind the bar, smiling at patrons. Moving further into the bar, John kept his eyes peeled for you. “Is she meeting us here?” Sam asked.

“She owns the bar,” John said, turning to his youngest. “She should be around here somewhere…”

“Closer than you think, Winchester,” a voice came from above and John visibly relaxed as your voice reached him. Looking up at the balcony on the second floor, he finally spotted you. Grinning, you turned and jogged down the stairs. John’s eyes followed you as you approached him and the boys.

“(Y/N),” he greeted with a smile.

“Heya, Handsome,” you said as you walked up to him. “I’ve missed you,” you whispered as you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. John smiled down at you, taking in your face as if he was trying to memorize it. “And I see you’ve brought guests,” you said, peering over his shoulder. Though, it didn’t take long for the pieces to fit together in your mind. “Or should I say, family.”

“(Y/N),” John said, “these are my boys, Sam and Dean,” he introduced, gesturing to each of his sons. You shook both of their hands, smiling.

“Wow, John, you never mentioned how tall they were,” you said, looking at Sam with amusement in your eyes. The youngest Winchester chewed on the inside of his lip, awkwardly. Turning back to John, you sat into a single hip, crossing your arms. “What are you doin’ back in my neck of the woods?” you asked.

“Need your help on something, (Y/N),” he said and you recognized his tone of voice immediately. This wasn’t going to be one of your more...entertaining visits.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, giving him your full attention.

“We may need a bit more privacy for this conversation,” he said, glancing around and you instantly understood.

“That kind of ‘something’, huh?” John nodded, “Alright, boys. Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll start closin’ up early. I’ll send Dawn over with a bottle,” you said. John reached out and squeezed your arm.

“Thanks,” he said. You sent him a wink and then disappeared to start clearing out customers. John led his sons over to the table he always sat at when he came to visit. Shrugging out of his coat, he leaned back and watched as you spoke to Dawn across the bar, gesturing to the three men in the corner.

“Dad?” Dean said, gaining John’s attention. “How exactly do you know her?” John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I met her a few years ago,” John began, “I was on a hunt not too far from here. Some large-scale haunting and I hadn’t realized there was more than one ghost. These were nasty spirits. Salt slowed them down, but every time I turned around, three more would show up. I was being cornered by at least four of them and I was out of rounds when (Y/N) showed up and showered them in salt,” John chuckled slightly at the memory. “Woman was like Rambo with a salt grenade and then she hauled my ass out of there.”

“So you got your ass handed to you by a chick?” Dean asked, amused. John shrugged.

“Twice actually,” he continued. “She came with me to salt and burn the bones when a vamp came out of nowhere. Freshly turned one too. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast with a machete.”

“But I thought you said she wasn’t a hunter,” Sam said.

“I said she was sort of a hunter,” John corrected. “(Y/N) hunts when she can. Mostly local things to keep her town safe, but she has other...talents. (Y/N) is connected in the world of the supernatural. She always knows what is going on within the monster world.”

“What? Like having Wolfman on speed dial?” Dean asked and Sam kicked him under the table. Dean threw a glare at his little brother, annoyed.

“Kind of,” John said, “it’s complicated.” Dean pursed his lips but didn’t press the issue as Dawn arrived with a bottle of bourbon and four glasses. She dropped them on the table. “Thanks, Dawn,” John said. Dawn grinned at him.

“Good to see you, John,” she said. “Things have been a bit boring around here since you left.”

“You know me, D, gotta keep moving,” he said and she rolled her eyes.

“Right,” she said with a knowing look. “Alright, you guys have a good night, I’m heading out.” Dawn nodded to the boys and then gripped John’s shoulder as she headed for the back, ready to have an early night. Dean poured the drinks and handed them out, pouring an extra one for you as you finished up sending people home.

John sipped from his glass as he watched as you dragged a very drunk psychic from the bar. “It helps me see better!” the woman complained, trying to stay on her feet.

“Then go buy a bottle at the liquor store, Shay,” you said, hauling her to the door. “I got shit to do!”

“You are going to have a hard life, (Y/N),” Shay said, pointing her finger at your face. Then, the psychic fell over, trying to reach the door.

“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” you quipped as she stumbled out the door. With a final dismissal of the staff, the Outpost was finally quiet. After locking up, you joined the Winchesters, gratefully accepting the drink John handed you. “Alright, fill me in.”

“Wait,” Sam said before John could begin, “how do we know we can trust her?” Dean rolled his eyes and John narrowed his at his youngest. You, however, had expected this.

“Something tells me you have questions, Sam Winchester,” you said, downing the bourbon. “Ask away.”

“How do you get your information about the supernaturals?” Sam asked. You reached for the bottle again and poured yourself another drink as you spoke.

“I have my sources,” you explained. “Not all ‘monsters’ are bad, boys. There are wolves that eat cow hearts from the butcher and vamps that drink blood-bags instead of people. If you know which ones are the less horrible ones, you can make deals with them. Offer them protection from other hunters in exchange for information. I don’t deal in demons though,” you assured them. “However, I do know how to summon one if the situation is that dire. Which it rarely is in these parts. Psychics and witches are also easy to find and very easy to bribe once you get to know them.”

“So you run a black market for information?” Dean asked.

“That’s one way to put it, sure,” you said with a shrug. “I find that monsters are more willing to speak to you than other hunters. I offer them a deal and they usually take it.”

“What deal?” asked Sam.

“If they prove to me that they don’t kill people and offer good information, I keep them protected and keep their secret.”

“And if they break the deal?”

“Then I kill them,” you said simply.

“Just like that?” asked Dean.

“Just like that, Dean,” you said. “Satisfied?” Dean hesitated before nodding. You looked at Sam and he did the same.

“She’s good, boys,” John said and you smiled at him, gripping his shoulder.

“So,” you began, “tell me what you need.” John turned fully towards you and you could see that he was exhausted. You weren’t sure when the last time he slept was. Then again, you hadn’t seen the man for months. A hundred different things could have happened since then.

“We’re looking for the colt,” John said and your brows shot up.

“As in Samuel Colt?” you asked.

“You know it?” he asked.

“I do, but nobody knows where it is.”

“We did,” Dean interjected. “Another hunter, Daniel Elkins, had it, but it was stolen.”

“By vamps, (Y/N),” John said.

“What would vampires want with a gun like that?” you asked, confused. Everyone that knew about the supernatural was aware of the gun. It was legendary, but most people thought it was just a fable, a myth to tell monsters so they would be scared. You never imagined that someone you knew would be after it.

“We don’t know,” John said, “but we need it.” You sighed, placing your drink down.

“I can ask some of my contacts, but I can’t make any promises. And as soon as I do, people, monsters, spirits, you name it, they’re all gonna know the Winchesters are after it.”

“We’re out of options, (Y/N),” he said.

“I’ll do my best,” you said.

“Aren’t you gonna ask why we need it?” Dean asked.

“Not my business,” you said. “When you’re in the business in making deals and keeping secrets, you tend to learn to not ask questions. Excuse me,” you said as you got up and headed for your office upstairs. The three men watched after you.

As soon as the door to your office shut, John turned to his sons. “Really? Did you have to interview her like a suspect?” He didn’t wait for them to answer as he got up and followed after you.

“How well do you think they actually know each other?” Sam asked, watching after his father.

“You don’t think…?” said Dean and then he cringed. “Not an image I needed, Sammy. Not at all.”

-------

Slipping into your office, John shut the door softly behind him.

“Your boys are a lot like you,” you said from your desk as you texted away on your cell phone. John walked around the room as he looked at all the memorabilia you had from various hunts and adventures. Some he had even joined you on. When his eyes fell on the leather couch in the corner, he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face.

“Sam is like me,” John eventually said, “but Dean is more like his mother.” John turned and walked back to you as you set your phone down and walked around to lean against the desk. John met you there. You reached out and ran your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders.

“You look tired,” you said softly, looking into his hazel eyes that stared back at you through thick lashes.

“So do you,” he pointed out. You shrugged.

“It can be hard in my line of work. Never know when someone is going to need me up at three in the morning.” John nodded as his hands slid around your waist under your shirt, his large hands gripping you tighter. His thumbs rubbed along your skin. “I was hoping you’d visit soon,” you said quietly.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said, stepping closer between your legs.

“I heard you mention the haunting we first worked,” you said as your hands crept up his neck and into his hair.

“It was a tough one,” John said. “I should have done my research and of course, listened to the local bartender who told me the history of the place.”

“Yeah, probably would have helped,” you said with a grin.

“You know,” John said, leaning forward to trail his lips along your jaw ever so slightly. “I never did thank you for saving me that night.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he nipped at your ear, your hands tightening in his hair.

“I remember you did,” you breathed out.

“Oh?” John asked, innocently. Pulling back, he looked down at you with lustful eyes. “Would you mind reminding me?” With a hard tug, your lips met his and he grabbed your hips, placing you on the desk.

John kissed you hard as he tried to make up for all the time lost between the two of you. You gripped him tightly, letting him take control. His hands moved from your waist to your hips and then your thighs as he took charge of your body.

Sliding your hands from his hair to his waist, you ran them up his stomach beneath his shirt, feeling his hard chest beneath your fingers. John pressed in closer, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head back for better access. When he parted your lips, a small groan echoed from your throat which only made him more eager.

There was nothing better than kissing John Winchester. He was the only man to ever make you feel like this and the second he walked out of your bar, you craved him until he returned.

Your nails raked down his back as he let go of your lips and moved to your jaw and then down to your throat. Leaning back on the desk, you let him mark you, feeling electricity flow through your veins. You gasped as he bit down just above your collarbone. Keeping one hand on your neck, he used the other to grip your thigh. Your leg came up and between his legs. John pressed his body against yours harder at the movement.

You were flush against him, feeling his body fit perfectly against your own. He dragged his teeth along your throat, eliciting another moan from your mouth. “You’re gonna cause trouble if you keep doing that,” he whispered against your skin. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said as he lay you back on the desk, running his hands along your body as he leaned over you.

“Don’t be a tease,” you warned as he grinned, wrapping your leg around his waist.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a smirk as he trailed a finger across your chest.

“John,” you breathed out as he moved back to your lips, swallowing your whispers.

Just as his hand began to move towards the waistband of your jeans, your phone rang.

“Fuck,” you groaned as he paused. Detangling yourself from his body, you slid off the desk and grabbed your phone. John stood back, trying to control his breathing as he smoothed down his shirt. You fussed with your own clothes as you picked up the call.

John didn’t listen as you spoke to whatever contact you had reached out to. Instead, he tried to come down from the high he had just experienced in that small moment with you. He had almost forgotten what it had felt like to have you in his arms, to feel you respond to his touch. His heart jumped in anticipation at the thought of having the opportunity again, he knew it was unlikely. They still had a job to do.

“You’re in luck,” you said, grabbing his attention as you pocketed your phone. John turned to you. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand and smoothed your hair. “I have the location.”

-----

Once the two of you had made sure you didn’t look like horny teenagers, you rejoined Sam and Dean.

“I got it,” John said, raising a piece of paper in his hand. Your vampire contact, a nomad who you had crossed paths with occasionally had heard about two humans who had been taken by a nest. A nest that was gloating about getting the jump on some guy named Elkins.

“Just like that?” Dean asked.

“I told you,” John said, “she’s good.” Sam still looked skeptical, but Dean seemed to be alright with how things turned out.

“Do you guys need anything else?” you asked, trying not to let the sadness on your face show. You knew he had to leave now and you weren’t sure when you would see him again.

“We’re good,” John said softly and you nodded, crossing your arms.

“Well, don’t any of you be a stranger, okay?” you said. “And for god’s sake be careful so I don’t have to hunt you down cause you got turned.”

“We’ll do our best,” John said with a longing look that Dean caught immediately.

“We’ll meet you outside, Dad,” Dean said as he grabbed his brother’s jacket. “It was nice meeting you, (Y/N),” he said and you nodded back to the both of them. As soon as the door closed behind them, you grabbed John’s arm.

“You’re going after it, aren’t you?” you asked. “The demon. That’s what the colt’s for.” John grimaced and you sighed. He had told you about the yellow-eyed demon the second time he had come to see you. To most people, a conversation like that would seem like bad pillow talk, but it was normal for the two of you.

“You know I have to,” he said, reaching for you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face.

“I know,” you said. “He’s not gonna know what hit him when John Winchester shows up with Samuel Colt’s gun on his hip,” you said as you pulled him closer, your hand resting on the place his gun normally sat. You pulled his lips to yours and you kissed him fiercely. He melted into the kiss and you felt as if this was finally goodbye. You didn’t know why, but something about the way you held each other spoke volumes.

Pulling back, you looked right in his eyes and tried to memorize those beautiful hazel irises. “(Y/N), you are...it’s been you for so long,” he whispered and you fought back tears. You kissed him once more, letting your lips linger for just a few seconds before letting go again.

“Go get the bastard,” you said. John smiled at you.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

#winchesterwords #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #john winchester #john winchester imagine #john winchester x reader #reader insert #apolloloki97 #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn imagines #JOhn winchester fic

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samingtonwilson · 5 years ago

Text

Apartment 8C - Chapter 1

Telling the Kids About Your Separation

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: SHE’S BACK, LADIES. the only tag list i’m using is the permanent one, nothing specifically for this series sorry!

“You guys said it wouldn’t last…”

Natasha looks between the two of you. Steve’s beer is at his lips but he doesn’t take a sip. Wanda’s fingers pause in the bowl of popcorn she’s placed in her lap. Only Sam has a visibly emotional reaction.

He’s on the verge of bursting— maybe in frustration as the two of you are blocking the television, maybe in laughter.

It doesn’t help that you’ve hidden your hands behind your back. Nor does it help that you and Bucky are both grinning like giddy idiots while you stare at your friends who now sit with pin-straight postures on the sectional in your living room.

“And you were right!” you shout once several awkward beats have passed.

There is a loud POP! when you bring your hands forward to twist the bottom of a party popper, iridescent confetti falling over the coffee table and tangling itself in Natasha’s hair, and a triple air horn sound effect cuts through the silence when Bucky opens the app on his phone.

The two of you are laughing and high-fiving one another, but the four before you continue staring.

That is, until longsuffering Sam— fingers pressed into his temples— speaks. “You called us over here to tell us you broke up?”

Bucky shrugs and takes the empty party popper from you. He turns it over and shakes it, disappointed when more confetti doesn’t fall out. After all, he’d purchased the ones from Target just for the extra confetti. “We have consciously uncoupled.”

“That term refers to divorce,” Wanda says as she picks the confetti out of the popcorn and lets it fall to the floor. When she looks up, her expression is equal parts exasperation and amusement. “And, as far as I know, you two were never married.”

Natasha, fingers combing through her hair, frowns. “I actually forgot you were even dating.”

“Yeah, so did she,” Bucky says as he jabs his elbow into your ribs with a snort. “We didn’t want you guys finding out from somewhere else.”

“Like where?” Sam asks. He scoots over to let you sit beside him, eyes narrowed at Bucky who falls into his usual spot— the worn barcalounger you’d begged him not to bring when he moved in. “You think they’d send out a campus-wide alert that you two broke up? Or that E! News would be reporting it after they talk about whichever Kardashian is having another baby?”

That steals Wanda’s attention from the popcorn bowl. “Speaking of, how is one of them always pregnant?”

There’s a fair amount of indistinct chatter to answer Wanda’s question, but it is all loudly interrupted with a simple: “Does this mean Bucky is moving out?”

It seems that everyone turns to look at Steve simultaneously. Squeaks of leather as you all shift around, the click of a bowl being placed on the wooden table.

He understands the question in all of your gazes, and shrugs with a sigh of defeat. “They’re probably just genetically very fertile— Kris has had, like, eighteen children herself. Now, does Bucky have to find a place?”

Then all eyes slide to you. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose wrinkles. The absolute picture of disbelief. It has Bucky fighting a smile. “Why would he need to do that?”

“Living with an ex is hard,” Sam replies. He sets his hand on yours and gives your fingers a light squeeze. It’s meant to be comforting, but it isn’t necessary. “It’d make sense if you couldn’t—”

“Bucky moved in a while before we started dating,” you tell them, each word said in an imploring tone. “He still has his bedroom, I still have mine. Besides, we didn’t break-up because we can’t stand being around each other.”

“Then why did you break-up?”

The inquiry is directed at Bucky, who everyone shifts to face. The piercing attention draws a light blush over the bridge of his nose and at the highpoints of his cheeks. You hold back a soft laugh. “We’re just better as friends. The romantic compatibility wasn’t there.”

“Romantic compatibility, conscious uncoupling,” Natasha repeats with a surprised laugh. “Does this man have a Goop membership, or something?”

Despite your own laughter, you nod at Bucky. “He’s right, though. It just— Something was missing.”

As inarticulate as it is, it’s the truth. There was nothing wrong with your relationship, at least at first glance. You kissed each other hello— when you remembered— and you kissed each other goodbye— when you remembered.

But you often forgot— you usually forgot. Which might be explanation enough as to why the two of you didn’t last.

—

“Was the sex bad?”

You nearly choke on the sip of wine you’d taken. Glancing at the boys in the living room to confirm they were blissfully unaware of Wanda in the kitchen, you set your glass onto the counter and narrow your eyes at her. “You should increase your volume the next time you ask something like that.”

“It couldn’t have been too bad,” Natasha says from the barstool beside Wanda’s, still frowning. She’d managed to remove every piece of confetti from her hair and it now sits in a small pile next to her glass. “You two weren’t exactly virgins when you met.”

Your answering smile is sarcastic. “Hilarious. The sex wasn’t bad. He’s— He’s good at it.”

“Yeah, that was convincing,” Natasha snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “For his sake, I hope none of us let it slip that Barnes’ dick is trash.”

“It isn’t trash! Okay.” You wiggle a finger at Wanda. “You. Imagine having sex with Steve.”

Her nose immediately wrinkles, her scowl instantaneous. “Understood. But then why date in the first place?”

“Remember the night my ‘friends’ from high school were in the city?”

The smile Natasha wore due to your finger quotes gives way to a deep grimace. “The night that girl with the bad bleach job pranced around here showing her ring off? I wish I could forget.”

You nod. “All night, she kept telling me someone might be out there for me. That I probably won’t be too late, that some people end up alone and it’s okay. Like I’m tofu and she’s apple pie.”

“You lost me with that one.”

“Like I’m an acquired taste and she’s universally appealing.”

You smile when they laugh to themselves, but shake your head seconds later. “I don’t care if I end up alone. I’ll be fine either way. It’s just the insinuation that I’ll fail if I try to find someone. Like it’s prom all over again.”

“D’you punch her teeth in? Can I punch her teeth in?”

You roll your eyes at Natasha. “I drank my weight in whatever bullshit wine she’s stupid enough to pay for, texted Bucky to pick me up, and fucked him on the couch to make myself feel better.”

Her features twist in disgust. “The couch we all sit on?”

—

While Sam yells at the television as if the New York Giants can hear his admonishments and advice, Steve sits back against the sofa cushions. His sigh is heavy and pointed, meant to draw attention, but it fails.

So he places his feet on the coffee table. He crosses his legs at the ankle. And he glares.

An unsuccessful moment later, he speaks. “I’m not gonna let you crash on my couch.”

Unable to stop himself, Bucky smiles but otherwise focuses on the game. “That’s a fun psychic premonition. Do you read palms, too?”

Steve attempts to look more threatening and narrows his eyes to slits. The blue is icy, menacing.

However the elephant cushion he’s clutching to his chest? Not helping his cause. “So she dumped you because you’re a pain in the ass? Is that it?”

“She dumped me because I’m too good in bed and it was starting to become too much for her.”

Sam pauses the game just to join Steve in looking at Bucky skeptically.

He just rolls his eyes. “No one dumped anyone. We both decided we’re better as friends.”

“S’usually a lie when people say that,” Steve remarks. He sticks his tongue out when Bucky narrows his eyes in offense.

“It isn’t this time.”

Sam, wearing a sly smile as he turns his attention back to the game, asks the next question: “Were there tears?”

“She was stone cold.” Grinning as he holds his bottle of beer to his lips, he adds jokingly, “I cried like a baby, though.”

Sam hums. “Not surprised. You fuckin’ sobbed at Inside Out.”

“Oh, so you didn’t cry when Bing Bong said ‘Take her to the moon for me’?” Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What, are you a fuckin’ monster, Wilson?”

The grinding of Steve’s teeth is almost audible, his irritation painfully evident when he tosses the cushion aside.

Yet he still straightens it to make sure the elephant is sitting up straight, trunk pointed to the ceiling.

“I’m being serious, Buck. Living with an ex... It’s touchy and awkward. How are you gonna feel when she’s got some guy over?”

“The same way she’ll feel when I’ve got some girl over,” the answer is said with ease. “Hell, I’ll give her a condom if she needs one.”

“And your feelings just turned themselves off?”

His shrug is a bit reluctant, the smile he offers Steve hesitant. “Hers did.”

—

Hours pass before it’s just you and Bucky in the apartment.

Natasha and Wanda leave first to get enough sleep before their eight-AM class, and Steve only manages to coax Sam off the couch once he has watched the game highlights and coverage twice over. You think you might scream if you ever hear the SportsCenter theme again.

Leaning against the door after it shuts behind Steve and Sam, you offer Bucky a sleepy smile as he rummages through the refrigerator. Judging by his sour expression, there’s nothing good to eat. “That was easier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I’m real glad I read that ‘Telling the Children about the Divorce’ article for it.” He slams the fridge shut. There is desperation in his voice when he asks, “Are you hungry, too?”

Dish rag tossed in his direction, you flip the faucet on to wet each glass. “When am I not hungry, Bucky?”

“Are you more willing to pay for pizza or Thai?”

“S’too late for Thai.” You set a washed glass atop the counter and get started on soaping up the next one. “We’ll get Thai when it’s your turn to pay.”

Three glasses sit on the counter before Bucky sets his phone down and begins drying them. He peers over at you with attempted tact.

But, to his dismay, you smile and meet his blue eyes with a playful glare. “What?”

“Steve’s dead-set on me moving out.”

Your frown is immediate. You stop scrubbing the popcorn bowl for a moment. “Do you want to move out?”

His reply is instant. He stops drying a glass for a moment. “No. Do you want me to move out?”

“No.” You resume scrubbing. “I can’t live here with anyone else.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek to avoid a grin, Bucky nods. He decides to change the subject and bumps his hip against yours. “Sam thought we were gonna tell everyone we got engaged.”

Startled laughter and you hand Bucky the washed bowl, switching the tap off and leaning your hip against the counter’s edge. “After, like, four months of dating? No wonder he looked so terrified.”

“Should’ve played it off that way just to see what they’d say,” he muses as you help him put the dishes away. “Tasha would’ve hosted an intervention for you.”

You hum in agreement. “Steve would’ve definitely called your mother.”

“Would Wanda faint or is that too dramatic?”

“She was ready to faint when I told her we had sex on the couch.”

Eyebrows raised, he watches as you walk to the living room and fall into that exact couch with exaggerated relief. “You told her that?”

Another hum. “Nat almost threw up.”

“At the thought of us having sex in our own home?” he snorts, adding in a deadpan tone, “Oh, the horror.”

Bucky collapses onto the couch beside you and smiles when you drop your head onto his shoulder. He toys with the stray pieces of confetti littered over the cushions. “Went all the way to Target for the more expensive poppers and they had even less confetti than the Party City ones.”

“Just because something costs more doesn’t mean it’s better.”

He gasps playfully. “We have a genius in our midst. Someone please embroider everything she says onto pillows.”

“Yeah and I’ll use those pillows to smother you in your sleep.” You lift your head and set your chin on his shoulder instead. You try to glare, but his smile is contagious. “I know where you live, Barnes.”

“You won’t for long if Steve has it his way.”

“If the world operated according to Steve’s wishes, we’d all be required, by law, to eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast and wear shirts two sizes too small.”

CHAPTER 2: FINDING YOUR INDEPENDENCE

#bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes college au #a8c

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Sixteen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

December 31st, 1999

Emile was excited. It was the final minutes before midnight, before an entire new millennium started. Not many people would get to say they lived through that and remembered it, one day.

As the minutes turned into seconds, Emile and his family watched the ball get ready to drop in Times Square on TV. He couldn’t imagine what sorts of things would happen not only in the new year, but in the whole of the two-thousands. He knew he was going off to college in the fall of two thousand-and that was a weird thought, not have nineteen in front of the number-but there was so much he didn’t know about the future. And while that scared him a little, he was also incredibly excited.

When the ball dropped and his whole family cheered, Emile grinned. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be doing next year today, but he hoped it was something great.

December 31st, 2000

Emile drove into the complex’s parking lot with a smile on his face. He had told Remy that he would be coming back the second of January, but he had been planning to surprise Remy by coming home a little early. His parents had understood and let him go on the condition that he call them the morning of the first. The rest of his family griped a little but still let him go with minimal fuss.

Getting out of his car and grabbing his things from the backseat, he climbed the stairs to their apartment and knocked on the door. He could hear footsteps, and then the light by the peephole dimmed, and the door was opened by a very confused Remy. “Emile? You weren’t supposed to be back for another two days!”

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d surprise you, seeing as how it was your birthday and all. Didn’t want you to spend it alone,” Emile said, walking in and putting his stuff down in his room. He walked back out and noticed the TV along with the VHS player. “I was wondering if that was gonna be here or not.”

“Yeah, well, no point in buying you cartoons you can’t watch,” Remy said with a shrug. “I really like the jacket you got me.”

Emile’s eyebrows shot up. “You went to the shelter?”

“Wound up there after a bit of a walk,” Remy said with a shrug. “Helped with the lunch rush. Gave me something to do, and let me stop thinking about other things. Now, back to the original question: why are you here?”

“Like I told you, it’s your birthday, I didn’t want you to be on your own on your birthday, that’s just no fun!” Emile exclaimed.

“So you...drove two hours just to make sure I wouldn’t be alone?” Remy asked, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Yep!” Emile chirped. “Anything you want to do to celebrate? We could eat out for dinner tonight, I have a little spare cash.”

“No, no, hold up,” Remy said, holding up a hand to stop Emile from continuing to talk. “You. Drove two full hours this morning just so I wouldn’t be alone all day?”

“Technically it was more like two and a half. Traffic was killer,” Emile said with a shrug. “Why, is that a big deal?”

“Is it a big deal?” Remy repeated dumbly. “You’re giving up time with your family to be with me!”

“Yeah, I know,” Emile said. “I made the decision, Rem.”

“But...why? You don’t exactly get to see your family often,” Remy said.

“Yeah, and your birthday only happens once a year,” Emile said. “I wanted to make sure you had a happy nineteen.”

“...Am I really that important to you? That you’d give up more time with your parents just to celebrate my birthday?” Remy asked, his voice soft and small.

“Of course, Remy,” Emile said. “Of course you’re that important, you’re my best friend, and there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Eve with.”

Remy walked over and hugged Emile tight. Slowly, Emile brought his hands up to hug Remy back. Hugs from Remy were special things, not to be taken lightly and rarely given out. But he always put his all into them. Squeezing tight, but not so tight that Emile couldn’t breathe. Sometimes he’d rest his head on Emile’s shoulder, and sometimes he’d whisper something he wanted to say to Emile, but was too scared to say aloud. “I love you,” Remy whispered. “I don’t know how else to say that. Not in a, ‘I’d date you’ way, you know? More in a...‘you’re my best friend and if anything happened to you I’d be devastated’ sort of way.”

Emile smiled and a chuckle slipped out. “I love you too, Remy.”

Remy held Emile tighter and Emile savored the sensation until Remy’s grip went lax, and they parted. Emile smiled softly at Remy, who was swiping the tears out of his eyes. “So, my question still stands: do you want to do anything for your birthday?”

Remy shrugged. “I guess dinner would be nice, yeah.”

“Then we’ll have dinner,” Emile said with a smile. “Anything you want to do until then? Do you have to work?”

“No, I don’t have to work, I’m not on Starbucks’ schedule today and the local shop is closed,” Remy said softly.

“Okay, that gives us the afternoon to do whatever you want,” Emile said.

Remy’s head dropped towards the ground, and Emile could tell he was choking back more tears when he asked, “Emile, I know you don’t want to be my therapist...but can I vent for a second?”

“Of course,” Emile said, putting a hand on Remy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Toby...” Remy made a choked sound. “Toby doesn’t have our address. He doesn’t have my phone number. And I...I don’t have his. His ex-girlfriend apparently stalked him and he had to change it, and I obviously was not welcome back home at Christmas, so I couldn’t talk to him about that then...he’s gone, Emile. I lost all contact with him. I wanted to at least call and tell him Merry Christmas, but I didn’t get to, and I know that he doesn’t know where I am, but I was still hoping that somehow...somehow, he’d find out, and he’d be able to...to wish me a happy...birthday...but...” Remy was outright crying now, albeit trying to muffle the sounds. “But he can’t. And...and I don’t know what I’m going to do, Emile. We were never the closest brothers in the world, but he cared about me, he was my best friend, and...and I miss him...”

“Aw, Rem...” Emile bit his lip. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

Remy nodded and Emile hugged him fiercely. “This is not your fault,” Emile said with certainty. “And it hurts, and I know that the pain you’re going through must be overwhelming. It really, really sucks. But you know what? I’m sure that Toby is out there, somewhere, wishing you a Happy Birthday anyway. Even if he can’t call, and he can’t write. He knows it’s your birthday, and I bet he’s trying to psychically send good vibes your way.” Remy laughed at that, and Emile smiled. “You’ll be okay, Rem. It’ll hurt, but you’ll get through it. You’re impossibly strong.”

Remy nodded into Emile’s shoulder, and Emile just sighed into Remy’s. “You can hug me as long as you need, I really don’t mind,” he said softly.

They stayed like that for a long while, Emile hugging Remy as Remy quietly cried. He was mourning a loss, and Emile understood that. Remy would need time. And occasionally, this might resurface and he might get hurt again. But Emile swore that he would be there to help Remy as much as he could. After all, isn’t that what best friends did? They helped each other when they were hurt, they let each other cry, they shared secrets and ambitions and plans for the future. And while this may have changed Remy’s plans, Emile was certain that Remy could get through it.

When Remy finally whimpered out a, “I feel better now,” Emile let his hands drop and took a step back. Remy wiped at his eyes and heaved a sigh, but he seemed a lot more level. “Thanks, Emile,” Remy murmured. “I didn’t expect this to have as much of an impact on me as it did, but...”

“Hey, you’re allowed to feel what you feel, and however much you feel that is a valid feeling,” Emile said. “You’re gonna be okay, but it’s all right if you’re not okay right this minute.”

“You sure?” Remy asked uncertainly. “It’s really okay to...not be okay?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “It takes a while to feel okay sometimes. That’s normal.”

Remy sniffled and nodded. “Okay then. If it’s...if you don’t mind, I’m gonna...uh, take a nap, I think. Just sleep some of the exhaustion off.”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Emile said with a smile.

Remy groaned. “That was terrible, Emile,” he grumbled, heading to his room.

Emile just laughed. “I’ll be watching She-Ra if you need me.”

Remy grunted and closed the door to his bedroom, and Emile grabbed his VHS tapes, putting one of them in the player and bouncing excitedly as it began to play the opening.

When two episodes had gone by, and Emile had seen neither hide nor hair from Remy, he knocked on Remy’s door. “Rem? You up?” He waited a minute, then knocked again. “Remy, can I come in?”

There was shuffling, and then the door opened an inch, Remy rubbing his eyes on the other side. “I was sleeping,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, it’s been an hour,” Emile said. “Your sleep schedule is already getting messed up by me letting you sleep that long.”

Remy grumbled again. “Want to sleep more.”

“Well, you can’t do that, but if you want, I have some novels I got at Christmas, you could go through those and figure out what you like?” Emile offered.

Remy grunted but left his room, which Emile counted as a win. He picked up the novels he had placed in his own bedroom and brought them out for Remy to inspect. “You can have your first choice, just don’t spoil anything for me.”

Picking a random book from Emile’s hands, Remy slumped to the floor and started to read. Emile rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed his own book to read, musing that they needed to invest in at the very least two chairs in terms of furniture.

They must have read for several hours, because when Emile came back to the world around them after finishing the novel, the sun was setting. Remy was still engrossed in the book he had picked out, and Emile lightly nudged Remy’s foot with his own. Remy quirked an eyebrow in silent question, glancing up from the book in his hands.

“Want to go get dinner now?” Emile asked. “Sun’s setting.”

“It’s winter, the sun sets at four in the afternoon.” A beat. “Sure, why not.”

“We don’t have to eat it right away,” Emile pointed out as they got ready. “We could get take-out.”

“Nah, if we’re gonna eat out we may as well actually eat out, as in, at the restaurant, you know?” Remy said.

“Okay,” Emile said. “Anywhere in particular you’d want to eat? Considering that lots of places would be closed on New Year’s Eve.”

Remy shrugged. “I know places that aren’t bars but have bars will be open,” he offered.

“What sort of places like that are there around here?” Emile asked.

Remy shrugged. “I’m not sure. We could always just drive around and look? I’ll help you with gas money in return for that.”

Emile hesitated. He didn’t want to just drive around for no apparent reason, but if Remy would pay for gas money... “Okay, fine, we can figure out a place to go by driving around,” Emile said, grabbing his car keys.

Remy hummed and paused. “Actually...”

“Actually?” Emile asked.

“I mean, we know the shelter’s going to be open, right? And the food there is edible, and the workers get to eat after they’ve helped with dinner,” Remy said.

“Are you suggesting that you want to volunteer at the shelter on your birthday, when you could be doing absolutely anything else?” Emile asked in surprise.

“It’ll give me a distraction,” Remy said. “Better than most things would. And I’d still get to talk to you, and we’d get to eat, and I’d feel a little accomplished for doing something today.” He paused. “Is that weird?”

“No, no, it’s not weird,” Emile rushed to assure him. “It didn’t seem like something you’d want to do on your birthday, but if you want to do that we can walk to the shelter and help out.”

“Cool,” Remy said. “I was wondering what it might be like to help alongside you, instead of when you’re not around, and this solves that mystery quicker, too.”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. Inwardly, he felt a swell of affection for Remy. He was starting to learn how to care about other people, outside his circle. Even if it wasn’t often, even if it was about him and his questions, he was learning. And Emile was incredibly proud of him for that.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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god-save-the-keen · 5 years ago

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I have a prompt idea for you whenever you have the time could you write about MC telling Adrian about her mother and that she's related to Rheya & Demetrius

Thank you so much for this request! Since you send it to me, I couldn’t stop think about it, hope you like it as much as I do!

Pillow talk

Warning: angsty / fluff

Words: 1.804

Adrian x mc: @avamarieland @alesana45 @itscassandraa-blog @mattrodriguezmylife @bigmemesplz @perriewinklenerdie @x-kyne-x @livingpurpose @adriansbiss

Permanent tagg list: @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @violinet @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04

Note: The “Read more” link is not worry (apparently) so sorry about that but it’s Tumblr fault lol

“What’s wrong, love?” Her lips rose up in a tiny smile as she turned her head towards him while his fingers lovingly caressed her cheek. Sometimes she was amused by how soft and sweet his touch was when his hands were strong enough to rip out a person’s throat. She took his hand and kissed his palm, lacing their fingers together, holding it near to her chest.

“I can’t sleep.” They were in a hotel resting after leaving the island. They had booked a flight for the next day to New York so they decided to rest for a while. “I just feel like my head is so full of things. Everything that had happened on the island, Reyha, Kano, Gaius…” She trailed off, looking uncertain, her eyes troubled and sad.

“I’m here for you, Amy. I know something has been bothering you.” She squeezed his hand involuntarily. “Something that you haven’t told me.” She looked at him a little guilty, her brows knitting together with a sorrow in her eyes that he had never seen before. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to… It’s a lot. And it’s hard.” Her gaze returned to the ceiling, like she was looking for the words to speak her thoughts. “Do you remember Kano’s mental test?”

“Of course I do.” His thumb gently stroked her hand, her eyes were still fixed on the ceiling and he waited for her to continue, he didn’t want to pressure her.

“He showed me a lot of things there… Some memories from my childhood that I didn’t even know were there, some kind of alternative universe where you didn’t hire me and…” She paused for a moment, Adrian could hear how her heart beat faster so he moved their laced hands towards his lips, kissing her knuckles. “And my mother.” She had never talked about her mother so he knew how hard this would be for her. “He showed me a memory… She was feeling bad, a strong headache, so I made her tea and, when I tried to hug her, she pushed me away.”

“I’m so sorry, love.” His heart ached imagining how she had felt and the arm under her back pulled her closer, kissing the side of her head. “You deserve better than that.”

“You don’t have any idea how many times I’ve wondered what I could have changed or what I did wrong, Adrian. But when Kano showed me I finally understood… She was a Bloodkeeper too, and when I touched her I could see things through her. And not pretty things precisely.” She rolled to her side, looking directly at him so he did the same, holding her waist. “And I know she was trying to protect me but I got so angry with her. I couldn’t understand why she kept something so important a secret from me. I could learn how to use my powers early! I could be more prepared to face Gaius or Rheya! Or at least know how to handle this, I–”

“Amy.” He said in a gentle but determined voice, his hand still in hers while the one hugging her back caressed her skin. “You can’t blame yourself or her for any of this. I wish you could see how extraordinary you are and how powerful you have become in a short time. Who knows what could have happened if you knew back then about all this, maybe nothing would change or maybe you would be a completely different person.”

“I know… Maybe I wouldn’t have met you and I wouldn’t change that for anything.” He smiled as her free hand cupped his cheek and their lips connected for a brief moment.

“Good. Cause I wouldn’t change that either, love.” She gave him that smile that he adored before becoming serious again. “That’s not everything, is it?” She shook her head. “You want to talk about it?… Did Gaius do something to you? His eyes turned red as he started to stand up, already livid. "I swear if he even touch you I–”

“No! No, nothing like that. Not this time, at least.” She grabbed his hand again, drawing him to the bed and close to her, their hands still clasped together. “It’s something that happened on the island, I…” She cut herself off and he noticed how nervous and worried she was. “I know every generation has one Bloodkeeper and when I realized that my mother was one I was astonished, I didn’t expect she was it too, I thought it was just a coincidence.”

“And it’s not?” He asked furrowing his brows concerned as she shook her head. “It has something to do with the Tree of Death?”

“How do you know?”

“You were the only one capable of getting close and touching it, Amy. Not even Gaius or Kamilah could.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t this smart.” He chuckled a little before putting on a serious face again, stroking her cheek.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, love. You don’t have to.” He kissed her forehead.

“Inside that tree is Dimitrius… I didn’t know at that time how but he told me to get closer and touch it and… when I did… it took my mind to his mind palace. And I saw him. Or this not death version of him.” Adrian was listening, concentrated on her words, his eyes never leaving hers and his free hand constantly caressing her skin. “He told me about Reyha and Iola… That Iola actually lived and, when Reyha became the Eternal Life tree and Dimitrius the Tree of Death, through her connection with them she developed her own powers, she became the first Bloodkeeper ever. She got married and had a child, also a Bloodkeeper. And her daughter gave birth to another Bloodkeeper and so until–”

“–Until you.” He finished the sentence stroking her cheek as she nodded furrowing with sadness. “So that means…” She nodded again.

“It’s not a coincidence that both my mother and I are Bloodkeepers, I’m the granddaughter of Reyha and Dimitrius, I carry this power because of them. I survived Gaius’ attack because of that.”

“That actually explains a lot.” He pointed out, a thoughtful look in his eyes, analyzing everything that she had told him. “Your psychic powers, your unusual Turning…”

“I know but..” She paused for a moment, like she was trying to compose herself. “But what if I turn like her? Consuming by the darkness? I’ve been having this awful nightmare where I have my hands covered in ashes and I’m so angry, like I want to attack everybody.” She was talking faster, her eyes shining filled with tears and her heartbeat high speed, almost like panicked. “And then it’s what Serafine told me, that she sensed darkness inside me and–”

“Amy, love, please stop for a second and hear me out.” He cupped her cheek, placing soothing circles there as she looked at him. “You are not Reyha. The fact that you descend from her doesn’t mean you are going to be consumed by the dark like her. You are strong. You are the light I never expected to have in my life. You are the one who saved me from my own darkness. Never forget that.”

“But Serafine told me she saw darkness inside me. What if I end up hurting someone, like Lily? Or Kamilah? Or Jax? Or you Adrian? What if those ashes are yours? I couldn’t live without you! I can’t lose you! And I could never forgive myself if something bad happens to you because of me!” The tears started to flood freely on her face and Adrian hugged her as tightly as he could, letting her cry as long as she needed, his arms holding her close and protectively, his hands stroking her back and hair. She pressed herself closer, hugging him almost desperately as the tears fell on his naked shoulder and their legs tangled together, there was no space between them and still seemed not close enough.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise. No matter what I won’t leave you, I swear, Amy.” He kissed her head, leaving his lips there for a long time, her sobs making her body tremble and his heart ache.

“You c-can’t promise that.” Her voice muffled from his shoulder.

“I can. Like you promised me the same thing when you woke up, remember?” He felt the ghost of her smile on his skin for a moment. “And I also can promise you we are going to defeat Reyha.” He separated from her slightly, looking into her still watery eyes. “And that I will help you in any way I can. Dealing with darkness or not. You didn’t abandon me when my own darkness almost consumed me in Paris and I won’t leave you alone. I love you Amy, you don’t have any idea how much.”

“I love you too, Adrian.”

“I don’t care what your dreams are showing you or what Serafine has said, we both know what she has been up to lately.” His tone was angry for a moment. “You are not dark Amy and we are going to be okay, we are going to travel around the world together and maybe find a place in New York or wherever you’d like to move together. If you want to.”

“You want to live with me?” She asked opening her eyes big and a tiny smile blossoming on her lips, even if her face was soaked with tears.

“I want everything with you, love. Forever.” He dried her cheeks, lovingly brushing her skin.

“I want that too.” He rolled to his back and she leaned her head on his chest, hugging him, as his hand caressed her back. They stayed silent for a long time, softly kissing each other now and then, holding each other close.

“So, about this alternative universe…” Adrian said as she snuggled closer and he held her tightly.

“Yeah?” Her voice was still a little husky but her tone more calmed.

“Was I intoxicated? I would never pass on hiring you.” She chuckled and he smiled, glad to be capable of making her laugh for a bit.

“I think it was a jerk version of you. He even told Nicole to show me outside.”

“Outrageous.” She giggled again and kissed his chest, making him give a pleased sigh. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you, handsome.” He lifted one of his brows and moved his head to the side, watching her smiling.

“Handsome? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, you can’t be the only one with cute pet names.” She responded softly, finally drifting asleep, feeling his lips on her forehead and his hands holding her.

❣️

#make your request #fanfic request #choices fanfic request #request #choices adrian #adrian raines x mc #adrian x mc #adrian raines #bb adrian #bb 3 #choices bb #bloodbound 3 #bloodbound mc #choices bloodbound

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thelittlesttimelord · 5 years ago

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The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 34/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - So I made a miscalculation and the first part of this chapter should have been added to the end of the previous one. Therefore, I added the beginning of Big Bang to the end of the this chapter.]

The Doctor grabbed the communicator and called River. “The TARDIS, where is it? Hurry up. What are you even doing there?”

Elise grabbed the Doctor’s hand to offer him comfort. He squeezed her hand back.

“Something's using her memories. Amy's memories. You said something had been there. If they've been to her house, they could have used her psychic residue. Structures can hold memories, that's why houses have ghosts. They could've taken a snapshot of Amy's memories. But why?” The Doctor kept glancing back at the Romans.

“Projections, or duplicates. They might think they're real. The perfect disguise. They actually believe their own cover story, right until they're activated.” The Doctor started pacing. “Why? Who'd do that? What for? It doesn't make sense. River? River? River, what's happening?”

Elise suddenly wished she’d gone with River instead of staying with the Doctor.

“You're flying it wrong. Where are you? What's the date reading? You need to get out of there now. Any other time zone. Just go. Well, then shut down the TARDIS. Shut down everything! But how? Why?”

A high pitched noise filled the air.

Elise watched as the Romans in the chamber with them doubled over for a second before raising back up.

“Listen to me, just land her anywhere. Emergency landing, now. There are cracks in time. I've seen them everywhere, and they're getting wider. The TARDIS exploding is what causes them, but we can stop the cracks ever happening if you just land her,” the Doctor told River.

The Pandorica started to open and a white light filled the chamber.

“Well, now. Ready to come out, are we?” the Doctor asked. He put the communicator back to his ear. “Okay, just walk out of the doors. If there's no one inside, the TARDIS engines shut down automatically. Just get out of there. Run!” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica as the Romans came closer to them.

Their hands were now guns.

Elise tugged on the Doctor’s jacket.

“Doctor! Doctor, I can't open the doors!” River yelled over the communicator.

The Doctor finally turned and saw the Romans. “Amy!” he yelled.

The Romans grabbed both Elise and the Doctor and walked them towards the Pandorica.

“Plastic Romans. Duplicates, driven by the Nestene Consciousness, eh? Deep cover, but what for? What are you doing? What's in there, eh? What's coming out?” the Doctor asked.

“The Pandorica is ready,” one of the Romans said.

“What, do you mean it's open?”

“You have been scanned, assessed, understood, Doctor,” a Dalek voice said.

“Scanned? Scanned by what, a box?” the Doctor asked.

“Your limits and capacities have been extrapolated.”

Cybermen and a couple of other alien species that Elise didn’t recognize appeared in the chamber.

“The Pandorica is ready!” The alien that spoke was short and brown.

Elise had never seen so many different species before, but she wasn’t scared. The only real thing that scared her were Daleks.

“Ready for what?” the Doctor asked.

“Ready for you,” the white Dalek said.

Two Romans dragged the Doctor to the Pandorica as Elise screamed. The Romans locked the Doctor into the seat.

“What do we do with this one?” the brown alien asked, pointing his gun at Elise.

“Scan reveals the child is Timelord”, the white Dalek said.

Elise struggled against the Romans.

“The child will be confined with the Doctor”.

Elise was picked up and carried to the Pandorica where they shackled her wrists and ankles together at the Doctor’s feet.

“You lot, working together. An alliance. How is that possible?” the Doctor asked.

“The cracks in the skin of the universe,” the White Dalek said.

“All reality is threatened,” the brown alien added.

“All universes will be deleted.”

“What? And you've come to me for help?” the Doctor asked.

“No. We will save the universe from you and your offspring!” the brown alien said.

“From me?”

“All projections correlate. All evidence concurs. The Doctor will destroy the universe,” the Cyberman said.

“No, no, no. You've got it wrong.”

“The Pandorica was constructed to ensure the safety of the Alliance.”

“A scenario was devised from the memories of your companion,” the White Dalek told him.

“A trap the Doctor could not resist,” the brown alien said.

“The cracks in time are the work of the Doctor. It is confirmed.”

“No. no, no, not me, the TARDIS. And I'm not in the TARDIS, am I?” the Doctor asked.

“Only the Doctor can pilot the TARDIS.”

“Please, listen to me!”

“You will be prevented.”

“Total event collapse! Every sun will supernova at every moment in history. The whole universe will never have existed. Please, listen to me!”

“Seal the Pandorica,” the Cyberman said.

“No! Please, listen to me! The TARDIS is exploding right now and I'm the only one who can stop it! Listen to me!”

The Pandorica doors closed. Inside the Pandorica, it was deadly silent.

The Doctor slammed his head into the headrest behind him in frustration.

If they were going to be stuck in here till the end of time, Elise would have to do something she’d been terrified of doing. “Daddy?”

The Doctor froze, hearing Elise’s voice. He’d never heard her voice before. Well he had, but that was a long time ago. But this version of her had never spoken on purpose before. “Yes, love?” he said.

“I’m scared”.

“I don’t know how, but I will get us out of here.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

Elise nodded and said, “Yes”.

But only a few minutes later, the doors to the Pandorica opened and Rory stood there holding the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor was released from the chair. “How did you do that?”

“You gave me this,” Rory told him.

The Doctor pulled out his own sonic screwdriver. “No, I didn't.”

“You did. Look at it.”

The Doctor quickly soniced Elise’s restraints before they stepped out of the Pandorica. He touched his screwdriver to Rory’s and they sparked. “Temporal energy. Same screwdriver at different points in its own time stream. Which means it was me who gave it to you. Me from the future. I've got a future. That's nice.” He pointed to the fossilized Daleks. “That's not.”

“Yeah. What are they?” Rory asked.

The Doctor looked at Elise and gestured for her to answer the question. She shook her head and he nudged her.

“They’re called Daleks,” she said.

Rory’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. She can talk.”

Elise rolled her eyes.

“Bigger picture here, Rory. History has collapsed. Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are just like after-images. Echoes. Fossils in time. The footprints of the never-were,” the Doctor explained.

“Er, what does that mean?”

“Total event collapse. The universe literally never happened.”

“So, how can we be here? What's keeping us safe?”

“Nothing. Eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out. Amy. Where's Amy?”

Rory led them outside.

Amy was lying on the ground not moving.

“Auntie Amy!” Elise said, dropping to her knees next to her.

The Doctor knelt down and put his fingers on her throat.

“I killed her,” Rory said.

“Oh, Rory.”

“Doctor, what am I?”

“You're a Nestene duplicate. A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity.”

“But I'm Rory now. Whatever was happening, it's stopped. I'm Rory.”

“That's software talking.”

“Can you help her? Is there anything you can do?”

“Yeah, probably, if I had the time.”

“The time?”

“All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened? All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe.”

Rory punched the Doctor, sending him to the ground. “She is to me!” Rory yelled.

“Dad!” Elise gasped, “Rory!”

The Doctor jumped to his feet. “Welcome back, Rory Williams! Sorry. Had to be sure. Hell of a gun-arm you're packing there. Right, we need to get her downstairs. And take that look off your plastic face. You're getting married in the morning.”

Rory carried Amy down into the Pandorica chamber and the Doctor placed her in the chair.

“So you've got a plan, then?” Rory asked.

“Bit of a plan, yeah. Memories are more powerful than you think, and Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. Grew up with a time crack in her wall. The universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got a bit more than they bargained for, like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul.” The Doctor placed his hands on Amy’s face and closed his eyes. “I'm leaving her a message for when she wakes up, so she knows what's happening.” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica, sealing Amy inside.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” Rory asked.

“I'm saving her. This box is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive.”

“But she's already dead.”

“Well, she's mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. Now, all it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it'll restore her.”

“Where's it going to get that?”

The Doctor checked his watch. “In about two thousand years.” The Doctor pulled out a Vortex Manipulator from his pocket and strapped it to his wrist.

“She's going to be in that box for two thousand years?” Rory asked.

“Yeah, but we're taking a shortcut. River's vortex manipulator. Rubbish way to time travel, but the universe is tiny now. We'll be fine,” the Doctor told him.

“So hang on. The future's still there, then. Our world.”

“A version of it. Not quite the one you know. Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look.”

The Doctor raised his wrist. “You put your hand there. Don't worry. Should be safe.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box.”

“Well, you and Elise got in there.”

“Well, there's only two of us. I counted.”

“This box needs a guard. I killed the last one.”

“No. Rory, no. Don't even think about it.”

“She'll be all alone.”

“She won't feel it.”

“You bet she won't.”

“Two thousand years, Rory. You won't even sleep. You'd be conscious every second. It would drive you mad.”

“Will she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer.”

“Rory, you…”

“Answer me!”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Then how could I leave her?”

The Doctor sighed. “Why do you have to be so human?”

“Because right now, I'm not.”

The Doctor typed in the date he wanted and the Vortex Manipulator started beeping. He grabbed Elise’s hand. “Listen to me. This is the last bit of advice you're going to get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but you're not immortal. I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along. You can't heal, or repair yourself. Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, however bored you get, stay out of…”

The Doctor and Elise vanished and Rory took his place guarding the Pandorica.

#eleventh doctor fanfiction #eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #Rory Williams #rory williams imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: cracks in time #the pandorica opens #big bang

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crimsonquiescence · 4 years ago

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I see a

missed call on my phone in the dark from A, who I have not heard from in a couple of weeks.

Hi. Haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you? I hope you are doing fine and feeling better--a text I sent the day before, not sure of what I’d get in return.

“How are you? Want to meet up to do a shoot?” he said, in one of his responses a couple hours later.

I’m okay. And sure we can work out a time for a shoot.

I asked for details, and he told me to wear “the clothing you’ve mentioned but never wore.”

I thought back to June, when I did all those shoots just to practice for our shoots that never happened. I kept sending more and more ideas to him, hoping we could create something eye-opening, something great. I’d been so, to the point of mistakenly, inspired.

Lol. I mentioned so many. You want a dress? It all feels like so long ago, I added, wanting to say, that really, it feels like we’ve both moved on from then.

I told him I’d show him a couple pieces the night before the shoot.

“Awesome. Looking forward to it” he texted, lines he could easily say to anyone.

Same. I thought you’d forgotten me altogether, I wrote, conscious of how I was picking at something already apparent.

“No way”

If you say so~

“I do”

Okay ^^ I believe you.

But really, I wanted to tell him it’s okay if you’re lying. I didn’t mean to cue you to respond a certain way.

Flash forward to the present. I’m walking with C in the dark, at a mountainous park where there’s supposed to be a view of the city. The photos would turn out nice, thanks to his expensive camera and decade of experience. Except, there are trees blocking the view underneath, and it’s pitch dark above the parking lot. There are no city lights whatsoever. We aren’t high enough on the mountain.

You called? I message A, conscious of how eager I am to reach him.

“Yes.”

Sorry didn’t hear--which is true, though wonder if I should’ve said I can’t talk.

“No problem” “I’m missing you” “As weird and abrupt as that sounds” “Saw something that reminded me of you” “I look forward to our shoot”

Me too. And thank you for missing me after all this time. I know it’s weird to say... but I mean it

“I know I’ve been mia” “Just a lot was going on”

It’s okay. I understand. We can talk about it in person I feel like I’m not someone as close as I’d like to be with you. But that’s okay :)

“What do you mean?” “Yes, let’s talk about it in person.”

I feel like you don’t let me in on a lot of things. I wish it wasn’t like that. But it’s okay.

“it’s mostly financial things.”

I choose my words carefully and let it end there, knowing there’s no point to be cross, even though I want to. I imagine a different scene: me and A in a home, and perhaps being slightly more honest as I start to grab things and throw them at him. Of course, I imagine wearing a dress for him.

You miss me now? Fuck, I bet you only miss me when you’re horny, because that’s how it’s always been. How about the nights and days I spent waiting for you, torturing myself over whether to message you or not, too worried to not care, and too worried to disturb whatever you’re doing?

I waited for you, and have been waiting all this time. I’ve waited two years ago, and I’m waiting now. What am I to you? Just an object to photograph? You know what, I would’ve been fine if you treated me like that, if you didn’t say things like you miss me and you love me. But why do you do this to me? Do you think I have no feelings? I’m not like you. I hold onto things, much more than you do.

I think about the ways he’s made me feel weak and the ways he’s made me feel like so much of a female, in every sense of the term: the waiting, the questioning, the massaging, the little errands, the painting my toenails, the clothing, the temporary black hair dye, and all the jewelry I examine repeatedly before the mirror to make them match.

And it doesn’t end there. I practiced for our photos. I scheduled shoots so he could want to use me again, so I could deliver on the pictures, so he would like me, want me, and need me more. I even thought of how his jealousy could play into it.

If you want me, you’d come and get me, won’t you? You won’t let bad things happen to me, right?

This led to that hotel room with FF, where he massaged me and then proceeded to touch me everywhere. I was bleeding too heavily for him to do anything inside me, but when I felt his fingers between my legs, I asked myself why is this happening? This can’t be happening. I’m not enjoying it. What will A think? How can I face him now? How did I get myself here? How do I tell this guy to stop? Stop. Stop. Stop. Please stop. Don’t touch me there. I like someone else. But I can’t even tell FF A’s name. A probably doesn’t want me to tell other people about him. It’s not official. I shouldn’t say anything. If I say I like someone else, it won’t make a difference. He won’t stop because of it. In fact, he’s still not stopping. Why am I here again... how did I let another man touch me?

Then I faced it and let my pride go. I felt as if a part of myself broke.

Later, I told A everything, except for the fact that I wanted him to be jealous, so he could want me more. He didn’t take it well regardless. That hurt. He talked about wanting to protect other models, when I wished he would’ve looked me in the eye and told me he wanted to protect me. I wished he would’ve told me how he couldn’t stand the idea of another man touching me and photographing me. I wish he didn’t think I’d flirted with FF, even if I blamed myself for what happened. I was ashamed, feeling as if the world had played a game on me: I’ve never felt the need for games before, but the one time I tried, it backfired on me and made me hurt the only one I wanted closer.

I wanted to ask A, why are you so good at this? Or am I just a fool for believing you?

I asked myself the latter question too, as A became increasingly distant and “busy.” I questioned what appropriate response times were. I wondered if it’s normal not to talk for a day, or two. I kept practicing with new people, so that maybe A could feel inspired. Maybe this would be the time that makes him remember me again, I thought each time.

Then by chance, I met C at a shoot. We connected and talked and talked and talked. And then talked some more. I must’ve had some charm, because in my mind I kept thinking about A, and wishing it was him instead, or wishing I could show him the cool stuff I learned, or wishing he could see these expensive camera and lenses and lights, or thinking A would find this so cool. I wondered if I talked to C more, and learned more things, whether I could have more to talk about with A too, or if A would value my input more, because sometimes it felt like A didn’t care much about what I had to say.

C also gave me hope in this industry in places outside of Vancouver. He asked if I’d like to travel with him. We talked about growing and collaborating together. I thought back to A snickering and saying “Yeah you’re a good model. The city’s just not a place for it,” after he said, as a joke, “Your poses suck.” I thought that if there was a hint of truth to his joke, I could make him eat his words. I’ll get better, for you. I made a mental note.

Then C kissed me, and a part of me turned cold. He whispered to me, between kisses, “Be my girlfriend?” I didn’t want to respond. I scoffed in my mind at the situation. I didn’t know whether he was talking with his penis or his brain. Then I asked myself if someone would say this between kisses, if they really meant it. Then I asked myself why would someone be so nice to you without expecting anything in return? Who do you think you are? Just a good person to talk to?

I kissed back and said yes. Other things happened that would make me try backing out of it, to no avail. Then other things happened that made me like C a lot less, because he didn’t treat me as an equal. I really was a past-time to him. With him, a girlfriend was a role, not a person.

But C was someone who liked to speak with his actions. Following our conversations, he proceeded to buy 3000 dollars worth of equipment for shooting things together. He actually made preparations. He actually wanted to do something and not talk about doing things in the spur of the moment. I didn’t want to back out on someone like that. If I had to choose a working relationship without considering anything besides work attitude, it would be C and not A. But really this was a no brainer. C would be the choice, all things considered too.

I got myself into this mess, and I have no one to blame. But what I really want, is to tell A all of this, after throwing enough pillows and furniture at him, like some enraged passionate, short and petite woman.

All of it started with you. I wanted to impress you. Yet all you do is ignore me. I’d let this go if we’d communicated less, but I wrote to you so many silly things which I thought meant something... I spilled my guts to you in that note (June 23rd).

When you asked me today, what was on my mind, I didn’t tell you that the words I wanted to say to you kept me up: I’ll die if you leave me, I mean it. I’m so tired of it all. I want you to be my last. You’ll kill me if you walk out on me. Hell, you might as well just kill me, literally, with your own bare hands--I don’t care.

I’m not saying this to be cute. I mean it. After all this meaningful meaninglessness and philosophizing and pain and submission and domination and intellectualizing and tears and hurt that I once thought meant something, I just want it to all stop.

I want to live and die for a heart-wrenching romance.

I fucking love you.

And I’m tired of having to move on.

I thought you understood. I thought we had some psychic understanding of each other, or at least you made me believe it. You told me “I love you” when you fucked me, on that hard carpet floor. I would’ve let it pass, if you hadn’t said and done what you did after. “Those are heavy words, I know,” you said. “But I mean them. You’re my everything.”

You’ve said some more things too, but let’s just cap it at that. Goddammit. How can you say that to me and expect me to brush it off like nothing? How can you be so good at seducing people? I really question it now, as I imagine myself looking up to the sky and laughing like a maniac.

I’m so stupid to have fallen for it. I’m so stupid for playing this game with A of all people, just because he stuck himself inside me and said things. I didn’t even love him then. But I remembered laying on the ground, looking up to the corner of the room and thinking so this is what life feels like. I haven’t been living this whole time. I took time to think about what he said, tried to put myself in his shoes, and let the emotions sink in, and then I drowned in it myself.

What’s wonderful, enraging and sad about him is that he comes off as flaky even when he isn’t. It makes it hard to be around him sometimes. But I also think, it makes it harder to be him--to live in a world where over time, nobody truly believes you or takes you seriously.

Still, I want to shove A against a wall and demand answers. How could you say that to me and then ignore me? You know the amount of times I’ve thought about you and how small and pitiful you make me feel? You know how hard it is to pick up the phone and send you a message now, and how much thinking about it makes me feel stupid for having done anything for you at all?

But what I really want to do is put him in my shoes too. Does he know how it feels to be touched by another man, while thinking about the one you want? I wish he could. I wish he could know how many times I envisioned hanging myself, as C’s lips touched mine and his tongue reached into my mouth.

I feel so fucked up. And of course, A would tell me to stop it if I didn’t want it. It’d be so easy to say stop. To let one’s actions speak. And yet, I find it ironic that he of all people says this--the person who cannot be read by his actions alone, the person that left me bare in the cold, waiting for him through his silence. I cannot stop. I must move past this, I tell myself. If A wants me, he’ll come.

The first times with C, I wanted to jump into the ocean. I didn’t want to be me. Why couldn’t it be easy? C took his time and asked me to lick him from head to toe. I felt sick to my stomach. He instructed me to start with his ass and then move to his toes. I wondered if anyone has had to subject themselves to this, just to get it over with. The smell from his ass made my stomach turn, even though he showered, because well, he was human. It was a trap, because the better I did it, the more he’d ask. But if I don’t do it at all, he’d still insist. I wanted to leave. But this place was pretty far out. I had to finish what I started.

How will my mouth ever be clean? How will I live after this? I should drink a bottle of mouthwash after this. This is so fucked up. I hardly know him. It’s not that I’m vanilla, but I can’t feel good doing this... not with him, not like this.

“You like this,” he said.

I nodded, while flicking my tongue.

I don’t. I don’t like any of this. Please make it stop. Please let it end, I beg you. Anything but this. Please just fuck me or something. I don’t want to lick you in those places. I don’t want to do this, not to you.

“You’re my slutty wife bitch,” he said.

“Yes I am. I’m your slutty bitch,” I said, while thinking, there’s only one right answer to it, so just answer the way that pleases him. “I love how slutty my hubby makes me feel.” I’m not your wife and I’m not your bitch. We’ve only met for a couple weeks.

“Slutty bitch. Bark like a dog,” he said.

Bark like a dog? Is this even hot? Why would he want me to bark like a dog? Does he mean literally? Fuck. I stopped my thoughts. I didn’t want to think anymore. I didn’t want my despair to show on my expression. I didn’t want him to ask me questions and make it harder and longer for me.

I barked, like some slutty impression of a dog.

“My wifey is such a slut bitch. Aren’t you?”

“Yes I am.”

“Only for me, right?”

“Yes, only for my hubby.” I should die just about now. What have I just said? Please. I don’t want to live this down.

I closed my eyes and thought about other things, while a part of me asked this is still easy, isn’t it, just do it? and another part of me wondered when it would end.

It took several times before he asked me whether I enjoyed licking his ass and feet at all. Apparently, his ex-girlfriend liked doing both those things more than giving oral sex. I do wonder if he was being truthful. I told him I didn’t and preferred giving oral, partly because there was no smell and I could close my eyes, let my mind drift and think about other things. To my relief, he hasn’t asked me for analingus since.

Even so, my body betrays me when C licks me and kisses me. I hate how persistent his tongue feels. I wish it was someone else’s. I wish he’d stop licking me to make me feel good. Why does he try to make me feel and care about my pleasure? It might be more enjoyable if I liked him more. But all I think each time is, Not there, not there, please. I hate this feeling. I beg you to stop. Please, I don’t want this. I hate you. I hate the way you’re making me feel. I scream these words in my mind, until I reach a point of no return.

Then my body feels it. I’m repeating the same words I detest upon his suggestion, but I guess maybe it’s kind of hot. It’s the kind of thing that one’s supposed to say to be a good sport. I’m on top, fucking. I can’t stop moaning. I’m the one controlling the pace and moving faster. The noises I make escape me and I surprise myself. If anyone heard it, they’d think I’m really enjoying it. I wonder what I’d say to A if he was watching. I think about whether he could feel my misery and hopelessness.

I let my voice go, letting it all out. I pretend C isn’t there and no one can hear it anyways, and I don’t care about him hearing. I don’t care if he finds me unattractive. But then even I start to admire the sound of my moans. Am I really this slutty? Is this me? Is this what it means to be a woman--to only be someone’s equal in bed? I let my self-awareness go. I don’t even like being on top that much, but my hips move. C becomes just sensations and repetitive motion. I feel like I’m cursed. I don’t know how to face anyone after this. Is this a trance? Or am I trying to get him off? Will I get a chance to get myself off when he showers? What if I’m caught and he goes again?

I don’t expect anyone could understand this. I feel a little bit broken and beyond repair.

When I think about A, I recognize I’d lost a bet with myself. I’d believed if he cared and asked me to hang out on just one of the days I’d be with C, I would go with A. I would believe he still cared. But I haven’t gotten any. There was rarely any conversation without my initiation. The only thing he said once, without me saying anything, was after I liked an IG post he made, and he told me he missed me.

Is this the proof I was looking for to move on? I feel like I gave A so many chances, two years ago and now too, although they are mainly in my head and through silence. In C’s home, I have spoken to A in my mind many times.

Where are you? What are you doing? I’m thinking of you. You seem so far away. I’m tired of our games. Why can’t you treat me like a girlfriend for once? You make me so lonely. What’s troubling you now?

I don’t like sounding so pitiful though. I don’t like feeling so unsure of what to do. I don’t even like being female.

In present time, C drives me in his BMW with Harman speakers. We listen to Jay Chou songs from various eras. I drown my emotions and thoughts in the music, drenching them with the melodies and letting them flow. I wonder if I heard the same emotions in these songs over a decade ago.

Drive me through the entire city and let me soak it in and disappear in it, I want to tell him. But I know he doesn’t want me to treat him like a driver. It isn’t that though. It’s more that the things he shows me are so beautiful and I get lost in them. I’m at a loss of words. Yet, if I tell him that, he’d say no wonder you seem so stupid.

C and I relocate to somewhere closer to his place, and take photos in nearly pitch dark, with city lights in the background. I examine how well they turn out in the car on our way back, and relish in the feeling of achievement with him. I like that too. I like how effortless our photos are and how easy it is to work with him. They are beautiful. They make me feel beautiful, even when I stop believing I could be, I want to tell him.

I can’t thank him enough for the beautiful things around me. With him, I wake up early and sit before a view of the water as I write. It’s breathtaking. It makes me feel precious just to see it.

But then when he touches, kisses and licks me, I wonder if that’s the price I need to pay for this beauty. And if so, why it’s so so ugly.

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

I think to how Timmy came by moonlight one night. It’d been so long since I’d seen him. I wondered if I should’ve appreciated our times together more, or if I was right to move past it, so as to not be in the situation I was in now with A: the thoughts, the pining. But T isn’t like A. T holds onto things. It’s hard to know what I should’ve done.

I’d felt stuck with T because last year was supposed to be fresh starts, and it felt so elementary and basic again. I waited for 3 years for it to happen, only to have met T. I wanted to move on. I wanted to carry nothing from the rainy city and be with no one.

I now wonder if I was delusional: I’d always be stuck, one way or another. T made the times so effortless and easy to pass. If I were to be realistic, isn’t that what life’s about? Having someone to spend time with, indefinitely? I could definitely do it with T. I could sink into his presence and mine mixed together and never come out. The idea of impressing him is as strange as impressing myself. But the idea of pleasing him is as compelling as pleasing myself too.

When I see him now, time stops. It’s just us again, like a year ago, like none of the bad happened, and the person before me is refined to just bits of pure gold. I wonder if my hands are clean enough for him. I wonder if my lips deserve to be kissed after having done such foul things.

I almost want to tell him, as I break down, I’m sorry, for letting myself be unhappy again. I know you tried so hard to make me happy. I wish I could tell you now that you really did. But then I’m crying like there’s no tomorrow, and that might be hard to believe.

And then there’s some things I couldn’t just say all in one day: Let’s do everything we planned to together. Let’s escape somewhere if things get bad. Let’s fuck so much we could populate a deserted island with our offspring. I want to taste your piss again. I want to be sick with you. I want to get on my knees and put my face to your crotch as soon as you walk in the door again, just because I have so much fun doing it.

Those make me giddy and smile.

Then there’s other things I can only say through tears: I like everything we did, to no end. Please don’t hate me if I tell you that I like it now even more, in retrospect, than I did before. I wish they wouldn’t feel so distant, or like they’re gone already. I don’t want to feel like I ever lost you. I don’t want to think about everything in the present. I want to erase the last 9 months. I can’t do this for much longer. Please make me forget, or take my life. Take me away from the world and find a pretty girl, have lots and lots of mind-blowing sex, and be happy for me. I’ll be happy to live inside you, in your memories, for as long as you do.

I wished he’d known, that hours before I got the message from A and before I was with C, how he grabbed me by the heart when he talked about our first time and the Coffee Crisps. We so instinctively ate it from opposite ends, and then swapped it between our mouths as we kissed.

I thought back to that day, and wondered why it should feel like so long ago, and what I would give to have it back, innocent of all the things that would follow. I felt like my gut was being ripped out slowly.

I was naked, laying on his shoulder in his bed that made me feel like a princess. I began to cry.

What’s wrong? He asked.

I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t think straight and didn’t know what to say. I knew I should feel like a monster for crying about it, after everything, but instead I felt like a little girl having lost something precious to her for the first time. I thought about the innocence of our first time and it filled me with anguish.

If I were in a better mood, I might say with a voice Daddy, I’m just so so sad, and there is no end to it. And I wish he’d call me Mummy again sometime and tell me his little boy thoughts too.

I stroked his cock when I gathered myself together and indulged in how it felt in my hand. I wondered if it felt good. I hoped it did. I wanted to be bliss to him as he is to me.

All the things that otherwise disgust me appeal to me when I think about doing them with him. I want him inside me. I want to be a human holder for his privates. I wish he’d call me all the filthiest names on the planet. And then some more. Fuck I wish he’d wreck me, and fill me with his cum wherever he sees fit, until I can’t keep it in anymore and it drips down my legs.

“I love you. You’ll always have me,” he told me.

“Make me your whore,” I said, as he screwed me. “I’ll always be yours, no matter what.”

I wished so bad for it to be true that I began tearing up. I wanted to cry. I wanted him to know I was being truthful. I wanted him to know how tired I was, and how much I wanted to disappear, especially then, but I didn’t know how it’d feel if he’s still inside me. I worried it’d make him soft. I wished my insides could hold him as tight as I ached to.

On the drive back, that Billie Elish song came on, and it took all my strength for me to hold it in and not cry because my mom was sitting beside me. I wanted to tell him, through tears that if you read everything I wrote, you might think that this summer was a dream, and it must seem like I got everything I wanted. But it makes all the difference you weren’t here.

I’d surprised him when I sent a text saying I need you, which he thought was unlike me. I struggled to give him an explanation to clarify what I meant by it, though to me it was self-explanatory and so natural. Part of it could’ve been fueled by the moments when I texted him with my hands shaking, plagued by a need to see him, yet having to wait for over 60 hours for it, each as slow and grueling as the last. The rest of it was simply “need” in every sense of “need.” So please, don’t ask.

“I feel stupid for saying it but I feel like I gave you a portion of my heart,” he texts to me later that night, when I’m on the bed that C would come join me in.

I probably give too many people portions of my heart. And hearts grow back. But not this. This is irretrievable.

I feel like I gave you a portion of myself. And now I’m only myself when I’m with you, I say. I feel this in the air even if we say nothing and just look at each other. I see myself lost in him forever.

I also mean to add, you know, that also means, I won’t be complete without you, no matter how much time has passed.

(PS - Annabelle was here)

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vintageneptune92 · 5 years ago

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In My Time of Dying- Chapter 2

So I’m not 100% sure how I feel about this chapter, but I need to get to some of the earlier stuff to set up the story. I hope you enjoy. As always I appreciate your re-blogs, comments, likes, etc. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. This is an eventual OC x Castiel fic. There will be some OC x Charlie Bradbury as well.

I suck at summaries! This is an original character story- Alianna Winchester, twin sister of Sam. It starts off right around when Dean comes back from hell. Ali and Sam’s relationship has been fractured since he left for Stanford. She struggles to repair their relationship has they navigate the Apocalypse, her close relationship with Dean and beyond. Like Sam- She is special in a very different way. Truly the Ying to his Yang that causes a deep connection between Ali and Castiel.

Tag List:

@fandom-princess-forevermore @deans-baby-momma @magssteenkamp @blancastans @jn-wolf

Story Master List

Supernatural Masterlist: Requests are always open

Now:

Things with Sam were strained. Ali wasn’t ready to forgive him for abandoning her and going on his own quest for revenge. While she understood Sam blames himself for Dean’s sacrifice, she had lost Dean too. Then, she had lost Sam and she was still grieving the loss of John, Sam should have been there with her. They should have been trying to move on together, not apart.

Going back in time with Dean had shook her, she wasn’t over that either.When she had laid eyes on a young John Winchester she begged Cas to send her back. She was certain she’d blow their cover, but he denied her and asked her to trust him. How could she not? It annoyed Dean to no end how she just went along with whatever the Angel had to say. There was something inside of her that continually told her it was okay. When they came face to face with their huntress of a mother, Dean was certain he was going to have to peel Ali off the ground.

Each Winchester child felt the loss of Mary Winchester, but for Ali it was different. It was Dean that helped her through getting her first period. One would expect Dean Winchester to balk at the responsibility, but he knew he couldn’t rely on John to get her through it. Dean had been the one to help her through her first heartbreak and the painstaking task of coming to terms with who she was. He had been the one to tell her that he loved her no matter who she wanted to be with. He had helped her tell Sam. Dean had been the one to get her through everything a mother would have, sometimes not so gracefully, but Ali knew he did the best he could.

Ali had been right about Ruby. She had gotten herself out of hell and gotten back to Sam. That was when Sam bolted on her and Bobby. She and Dean had watched Sam send demons back to hell with his psychic abilities. They were equally upset but for very different reasons.

“You know Ali, I expected more from you than Dean. Out of anyone I expected you to be accepting.” Ali sucked in her breath and spun around to face off with her brother.

“No, NO! You don’t get to say that to me.” She only came up to Sam’s shoulder but the rage burning in her eyes had Sam regretting confronting her. “You don’t get to play wounded Sammy right now. Look, I get it. You can exorcise the demon and save most of the vessels. I probably would do the same, but you have to ask at what cost to yourself? But that’s not why I’m pissed. No, I’m pissed because YOU LEFT ME ALONE! Again! You ran off to get your revenge with your demon skank and left me out of it. Left me in the dark. We’re supposed to stick together even when we’re apart! We’re supposed to be partners no matter what. And you just cut me off. You trusted HER more than ME! Don’t you think I could have helped you tell Dean if I knew? No, instead you’ve been lying to me for MONTHS Sam…Months. And you’ve been lying to Dean since he got back. That tells me one thing, you know what you’re doing is wrong. So instead of finding out from you…Cas tells us because you need to stop. If you don’t stop, the Angels will take you out. And if you hadn’t noticed…Uriel is a douche bag. Even if I can convince Cas to let it go, Uriel will not! He came back to specifically warn you again.” Sam looked down and shook his head at his sister.

“Ali, you haven’t needed me for a long time. You made the choice to stay with Dean when I went to Stanford and then go back after the half assed apologies Dad fed you. I didn’t bring you along because between Dad and Dean you were a mess. It would have slowed me down.” Ali felt the sting of Sam’s words in her chest. She always felt like she was slowing them down, she never dreamed that Sam would agree. She could be ruthless when necessary. She was a hunter and a killer of monsters like her brothers. But loosing Dean was too much.

“Fuck off Sam.” Ali spun back around and stalked away from Sam and slammed the motel door behind her. Dean had gone on a food run so that hopefully his siblings could repair their rift. He was pissed at Sam but he needed them operating on the same page. Lilith was breaking seals left and right, they needed to stop her.

Ali wrapped her arms around herself and walked the block from the motel to a little park that was empty. Sam did see her as weak. She had spent the majority of her life “manning up” for the sake of the fight. She would have done the same after Dean. The fact that Sam doubted her told her he didn’t know her as well as she thought he did. Maybe the twin bond of their childhood was truly broken. Ali sat down on the swing, gripping the chains and stared down at her feet.

“Hello Ali.” Castiel’s gritty voice made her jump.

“Jesus Cas. You really need to send a text first before you show, or wear a bell.” She held her hand to her heart as it slowly stopped pounding.

“Ali, are you alright?” He looked at her with concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She scoffed.

“I heard your argument with Sam. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I came to see you and overheard.” Ali didn’t say anything. “I know you think you’re weak, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Cas…I appreciate you trying. But compared to Sam and Dean...yes I am. The two of them can put their emotions aside to get the job done. Apparently I can’t.”

“You misunderstand me. I’m not trying to placate you. You are valuable. You have no idea.” He wanted to say more, but couldn’t. “I know things have been difficult for you since Dean came back. I know I haven’t helped make it any easier. The trip to the past took a toll on you. I wish it hadn’t been necessary for you to be there but Dean is more careful when you’re around. I also appreciate your faith in me.” Ali cracked a small smile.

“Dean actually hates how easily I trust you. I’m just following my gut instinct. Uriel however, is a prick.”

“He is a bit overzealous. I’ll leave you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Can you stay? Just until Dean calls me when he’s back? I can’t be alone with Sam right now. We’ll just fight more, but I don’t want to be alone either.” Cas nodded his head and sat in silence with Ali, watching her with deep fascination as she disappeared into her own thoughts.

Then:

“Deaaaaaan c’mon! Let’s find something to do. I’m so bored and sick of looking at this room. Dad has been gone for 3 extra days.” Ali was begging for something to make the day pass.

“Al, we can’t. Dad will murder us...well me, if we leave the motel room. He gave very clear instructions. Whatever it is that he’s hunting has a thing for girls. And you blondie would be right on the list of its most wanted.” Ali flopped down on the bed in exasperation.

“I’m so sick of this life. I just want something normal. I want to have real friends. And go to parties and have a boyfriend. Maybe play a sport? I hate moving from town to town.” Ali rarely had a pity party, but today it was in full swing. John had taken Sam with him on the hunt and left Ali with Dean to keep her safe.

Dean knew she was anxious that John and Sam had been gone so long. Her cries for a normal life weren’t so much about herself but about the Winchester men being safe. Dean laid down next to her.“Ali, I’m sure that they’re fine. You know how these things go. Sometimes the hunt gets away from you. Dad can only guess how long it will take. He has no clue. I know it’s been a few days since he checked in, but that probably means he’s close and is focused.”

“What is something happened? I mean really, we can say nothing would happen to Dad, but he isn’t invincible. Sam definitely isn’t. And he’s been so reckless lately because he’s so unhappy. What if they don’t come back?” Dean took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He knew he had to give her a real answer to set her mind at ease. Ali needed a plan to calm her anxieties. She had always been this way. As long as she had a game plan, there wasn’t much she wouldn’t take on.

“Then we would go to Bobby’s. We’d live there while you finished High School. Then we would decide what to do from there.”

“You would stay with me? You wouldn’t drop me off and then go off on your own?”

“Never. I will never just leave you like that. We’re a team. You, me and Sam. We stick together. And if something happened to Sam...then it’s you and me. I ain’t ever going to up and leave you like that. We stick together. Always.”

John and Sam had returned that night. Both were exhausted and John beaten up, but they were together again. True to his word, Dean never left her side until the day he was dragged off to Hell. Ali would gave thought Sam would have been the one to stick by her so loyally. She knew that things changed between the two of them the day she chose to stay behind with Dean and not follow Sam to California. Maybe it was unconscious, maybe it wasn't, but Sam never put her first again after that day.

Now:

Ali had gripped Dean’s arm just in time to be transported with him to wherever they were keeping Alastair. Ali looked through the small window on the door and saw Alastair chained up. Cas walked up to Ali and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“This devil's trap is old Enochian. He's bound completely.” Ali looked to Cas and studied his face. Her concern was matched by his. Dean was barely dealing with what he did in Hell. They couldn’t ask him to do this. It wasn’t right. She felt Cas’ fingers squeeze her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She had to give him credit for picking up on the social cues.

“Well that’s fascinating. Where’s the door?”. Dean turns away from the door.

“Where are you going?” Castiel’s question rang out as he grabbed Ali’s arm and pulled her with him.

“To hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much.“ Dean and Ali we’re stopped by Uriel as he stood in their way.

“Angels are dying, boy.” Ali scoffed and before she could respond, Dean did.

“Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this.” Ali squeezed Dean’s hand to reassure him. She knew how unsettled this was making him. Castiel was next to speak.

“This is too much to ask, I...I know. But we have to ask it. Dean and Ali studies Castiel for a moment and then turned back to Uriel.

“We want to talk to Cas... alone.” Uriel looked Dean and Ali up and down and smirked.

“I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders. But there had better not be any interference by you, Alianna.” Uriel tried to intimidate Ali, but she stood her ground.

Dean rolled his eyes at Uriel’s attempt. “Well, get some donuts while you're out.” Uriel let out a laugh.

“Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.” Ali wandered back over to the glass window and stared at Alistair. Ali would love nothing more than to rip him apart herself. The demon that hurt her brother, her protector, so badly. She considered what Cas had said to her about being powerful and valuable. She wished she knew what he meant. He hadn’t offered any more insight. She felt anything but powerful. She felt weak and helpless. Dean’s voice pulled her out of her own thoughts.

”What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?” Ali had her arms wrapped around her body. She felt cold, but she was sure it wasn’t from the temperature.

Castiel cleared his throat before speaking. “My superiors have begun to question my sympathies.“

Ali and Dean gave each other a look. ”Your sympathies?”

”I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You and Ali. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment.” Ali cocked her head to the right and considered what Cas was saying. Cas must have fought against this, risking himself for them.

”Well, tell Uriel, or whoever...you do not want me doing this, trust me.” Cas shook his head.

“Want it, no. But I have been told we need it.”

“You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out.” Castiel sighed. He looked exhausted.

“For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this.” Ali stepped foreword.

“Dean...this won’t be like hell. I’ll be right out here the entire time. I’ll be here to pull you back.” Dean stared at Ali, a little surprised she was okay with him doing it. “Dean...I believe in you. I believe you are so much better than you think you are. You are a good man. The very best that I’ve ever known. You’ve taken care of me for my entire life. If this could possibly help us, I don’t know, stop the seals from being opened, then we’ll find a way to put you back together again. I promise. I will stand by you no matter what.” Dean took a deep breath and exhaled. He kissed Ali on her forehead and turned towards the door.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Cas was sitting next to Ali as they waited and listened. Ali felt like she was going to throw up. She was hoping Dean could get them somewhere. Closer to finding Lilith and stopping her. Maybe if the two of them could do that, Sam would stop whatever it was he was doing with Ruby. Sam was more lost than ever. She felt like she was sacrificing Dean to save Sam, but she meant what she said to him. Dean was the very best man she had ever known. If anyone could pull through it was him.

She and Cas heard Alistair scream. Ali closed her eyes and clenched her jaw and grabbed for Cas’ hand. Cas stared at her wide eyed for a moment. He wasn’t used to physical contact or such strong emotions. Ali felt everything, deeply. She loved her brother and was feeling his pain at the moment. Cas was torn between telling her why she felt things this way and his orders. He was under strict instructions to tell her nothing. She was reaching out to him, the one who was putting her beloved brother through this, for comfort. He could at least give it to her.

He laced his fingers through hers. Her eyes snapped open and she studied his face. It surprised her to say the least. He tended to pull away when she showed strong emotions. He didn’t understand them and didn’t know how to respond. His face was filled with concern, that was unexpected.

“I’m sorry Alianna....for my part in this. I know you’re worried. And I know how important Dean is to you. I promise if this wasn't completely necessary I would have fought against it. Even still, I tried.” She offered Cas a sad smile.

“Don’t apologize. I encouraged him. I just want this to be over so I can get him out of here. Thank you for letting me be here and staying with me. Thank you for caring I know you don't understand human emotion, but Cas, you've shown more compassion than most people I've met. I appreciate that. And I appreciate how much you care about my brother...and me.” Before Cas could respond they heard more groans and screams from Alastair.

Castiel was confused at how her words had impacted him. She and Dean were important to him. He didn't understand what was happening and what was changing within him. Suddenly, the lights started flickering and Ali and Cas moved apart as the bulb exploded and Anna appeared behind Castiel.

"Anna." Castiel was cordial, but his greeting was still strained. Anna gave Ali a small smile.

"Hello Castiel" As Cas turned to face Anna he was overcome by shock at her appearance.

"Your human body-" Anna interrupted him before he could finish.

"It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental."

"You shouldn't be here Anna. We still have orders to kill you." Ali let out a sigh of frustration. She had no interest in listening to Angel politics. Alastair's screams grew louder. Ali held her face in her hands. She just wanted this to be over. She wanted their lives back. She longed for the days that a rogue Wendigo was the worst thing they had to worry about.

Her interest was piqued back to the Angels when she heard Anna question if torturing was God's work. Ali's face scrunched in confusion when Anna mentioned ruining the one real weapon they had. Was Dean a weapon to them? Even with how Cas had been, were they really just pawns to him in the end? Ali stood and started pacing, her mind running in circles. Castiel was still towing the company line while Anna refused to believe that torture and violence was God's will. Ali started really listening again.

"The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?" Anna was angry almost, and Cas wouldn't look at her. "What you're feeling, it's called doubt!" Ali could understand why this was so hard for Cas. She knew what it was like to doubt your own father, it was a horrible feeling, but there comes a point in time where you have to think for yourself.

Ali felt her stomach churn at another round of screams from Alastair. "These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still..." Anna was holding Cas' hand while she spoke. Ali watched as he yanked his hand from her's.

"I am NOTHING like you. You FELL. Go." Anna tried to get him to listen to her further, but he wouldn't and as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Ali considered what Anna had said for a moment and then steeled herself to look in on Dean and what Alastair's condition was, but she was shocked at what she saw. "Oh my God...CAS!!" her voice came out in anguish.

Alastair was out of the Enochian trap and was attacking Dean. Wide eyed, Cas quickly went to Dean's aid, in a blink of her eye, Cas was standing behind Alastair with Ruby's knife. She watched as Alastair dropped her brother to go after Cas. She covered her mouth in horror as the knife barely made a dent into Alastair and rushed into the room to check on Dean as Alastair and Cas continued to fight.

"Dean...Dean! Please wake up." She cried. She never should have pushed him to do this. She should have made Cas bring them back to Sam after Uriel left. Hot tears fell down her cheeks. She looked up when she heard Alastair chanting and cried out for Cas as his eyes and mouth started to glow blue and then suddenly Alastair stopped. Her horror continued as she laid eyes on Sam, with his one hand raised as he flung Alastair to the wall. She watched as Cas slid to the ground, but she didn't dare leave Dean's side, who was still unconscious. Her shock continued as she witnessed how powerful Sam had become. Sam glanced over at Ali and Dean before he started his interrogation.

"Who is murdering the Angels? How are they doing it?" His voice was demanding. Alastair tried to resist Sam, but with a simple twist of his hand, Alastair's eyes had gone white and he was choking. "HOW ARE THE DEMONS KILLING ANGELS?" For the first time in her life, Ali was terrified of her brother. She had never seen him so angry or so dangerous.

"I don't know!" Alastair cried. "It's not us. We're not doing it!" Sam scoffed at the Demon. "Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill 7 angels. She'd kill a hundred, or a thousand. Oh go ahead, send me back if you can." Alastair stupidly challenged her brother. Sam more than accepted his challenge and Ali watched as the life drained out of Alastair's body.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Not long after Sam had killed Alastair, Ali found herself sitting by Dean's bedside in a local hospital. She had no idea what lies Sam had told the staff, but she was sure it was a good one. Dean was bandaged up, with a tube helping him breath and an IV drip. She knew Sam was blaming Cas and trying to force him to heal Dean. Ali blamed herself too. She told Sam it was just as much her fault as it was Cas & Uriel's fault, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

Ali held onto Dean's hand, willing him to wake up. Desperately wanting him to open his eyes and make some stupid remark or disgusting joke to her. She wanted him to tell her he forgave her for pushing him. She jumped when she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder. She no longer saw the ruthless killer that had ended Alastair, but her sweet brother who was filled with compassion.

"He'll be okay Ali. I promise he'll be okay."

"Will he? Because he's going to lose his mind when he finds out what happened. Sammy...how did you do that? How were you able to not exorcise Alastair...but actually kill him?!"

There was a shrillness in her voice. The tone came out when she was in full panic mode.Sam didn't know how to tell her. He didn't want to tell her. He didn't want to see the look of disappointment and disgust in her eyes.

"We'll talk about it later." Ali didn't argue with him. She didn't want to fight with him anymore. She just wanted things to go back to normal, or to whatever was normal for the Winchester children.

"Sam?"

"Yeah Al?"

"I just want you to know that I forgive you...for everything. It was hard for both of us, Dean being gone. We didn't handle it gracefully. I don't want to fight with you. We have a big enough fight coming our way, we don't need to be fighting each other too." Sam sat down next to Ali and took her free hand in his and the two waited for their big brother to wake up.

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mrswhozeewhatsis · 5 years ago

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A Woman of Letters (Getting a Feel for Sam Winchester) - Chapter 22

Summary: You’ve just opened an occult bookstore in Lebanon, Kansas, when you fall for a tall, handsome customer…literally. You soon find out that there’s more to the world than you ever suspected, including you. Discovering your heritage puts you directly in a witch’s crosshairs, though, so the Winchesters offer to take you in and teach you how to protect yourself. As you discover your own family history with the supernatural and your own hidden talents, you can’t help but wish a certain brother was as excited about your interest as you are.

Total length: 43 chapters, 70,247 words - Read on AO3 - Series masterlist

Chapter word count: 1499 words

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Canon-level angst and violence

You

As soon as Dean had handed you the phone, you had felt Sam’s wall coming down. By the end of the conversation with Crowley, you were getting a steady flow of emotions from Sam. You felt tears prick your eyes as Sam left the room. When Dean explained who Brady was, you understood why. Dean didn’t stop you when you got up to follow Sam, just quietly wished you luck.

You felt the grief and the guilt from Sam before you even got to the kitchen door. Sam was at the table, resting his head on his arms, and a tear fell down your face at the feelings coming off of him. You felt everything ease as you sat there, rubbing his back, and then everything slowly faded. There was still some warmth to his touch when he hugged you, but that faded quickly.

You wanted to run after him and yell at him that it wasn’t the best for you, and how dare he presume to know what was best for you, anyway? You slammed your hand on the table and cursed. Going after him right now wouldn’t get you anything more than you had already gotten. Maybe you could talk to him later.

Back in the library, Dean and Cas were discussing the tests you were going to do with Hank the next day. When Dean saw you come in, and the sadness on your face, he immediately stood up and pulled you into a hug.

“How’re you doing, kid?” He held you away from him far enough so he could see your face and frowned when you shook your head. Dean pulled you close again and spoke softly into your hair. “He’ll come around eventually.” You nodded into his chest and sighed. Dean spoke a little louder and said, “How about with everything else? You hanging in there?” You pulled away from him and returned to your seat.

“Yeah. There was always some question about how he died, so now I know the answer. Knowing that the demon responsible is dead helps, too.” You smiled at the man and the angel, and let the conversation flow back to the appointment with Hank the next day.

On your way to your room, you stopped for a moment outside Sam’s room, and debated knocking. You rested your palm against the door, and felt Sam’s grief and guilt flowing through the wood. You wished you could send him love and comfort the way he was unconsciously sending you his pain. You closed your eyes and imagined you were doing just that, but only got another wave of guilt in return. You turned around and entered your own room, wiping away a tear.

That night, you found the books Cas had mentioned online and started reading. The writing wasn’t Shakespeare, but it had its moments. You read the first book in a couple of hours, and tried to picture the Sam and Dean that you knew as young men, almost still boys. The boys in the book were joking with each other, smiling, having sibling squabbles. Why didn’t the men in this bunker have any of that, anymore? You had a feeling you knew, and the answers would be in the books.

The next day was exciting for you, and you looked forward to even just leaving the bunker. The brothers had decided that you all would go to a motel to do the tests with Hank rather than have Hank come to the bunker and be distracted. Cas would keep watch at the door while Dean and Sam administered the tests. Dean spent the morning making you go over the few self-defense moves you had down, and helping you get used to carrying a gun in the waistband of your pants. After the emotion of the night before, you had hoped that maybe Sam would be more open to you, but when you sat across from him over breakfast, the familiar static was back, covered with a polite smile. After lunch, you all piled into the Impala and headed to the motel to wait for Hank.

When Hank arrived, Sam and Cas were outside, and you heard them give a brief explanation of what they needed from him. All they told him was that you were some kind of psychic, and they were trying to figure out what you could pick up on and what your parameters were. They would be asking him a bunch of questions, and he was supposed to lie for some of them, and let them know which answers were lies.

Before they even let Hank in, Dean blindfolded you. They didn’t want you to get any body language cues you could use later. They told Hank to sit across from you, and told him all small talk would have to wait until afterwards. You heard Hank sit down quietly, and then the tests began.

Cas had tried to teach Dean how to wall up his feelings like Sam did, but Dean wasn’t as good at it. You could still feel him sometimes, but you were able to tune him out and focus on Hank. Sam was asking the questions and tracking Hank’s answers, and Dean was keeping track of your guesses, which you expressed to him via hand signals. After ten initial questions, Sam had you take Hank’s hand, but stay blindfolded. Ten more questions, and then Sam removed your blindfold. You smiled at Hank, and he smiled back at you. The final ten questions were asked and answered, and then everyone took a deep breath.

Out of the first ten questions, you had gotten three wrong. Out of the second ten questions, you had gotten two wrong. You got all of the third set correct. As you looked over the questions, and remembered Hank’s answers, you questioned him on the two you had gotten wrong in the second round.

“Hank, these two questions. You marked #5 as a lie and #6 as the truth. Can you tell me more about these questions so I can understand?” Hank looked at the questions and paled.

“#5. Have I ever killed a human? I said no, because technically, I’ve only killed humans that were possessed, but if you think about it, there’s still humans in there. You just can’t always take the time for an exorcism, you know?” Hank looked at you and the boys sadly. “And #6. Have I ever been in love? Well, I’ve loved women, before, but I don’t know if I’ve been IN love, if you know what I mean. Ain’t no place for love in this life, you know?” All four men nodded at that, and you wished that it wasn’t so natural to them to feel that way. Sam grabbed the sheet with the questions and tally marks, and looked over it.

“Well, with those two questions being a matter of interpretation, it seems like Y/N was dead on through the final two rounds. Taking away sight and touch only lessened her ability, but even then, she got more right than she did wrong.” Everyone smiled at that and you wondered at yourself.

Next came the part of the test that Hank didn’t know about. The five of you just sat around for a while, chatting, with you sitting next to Hank and paying special attention to him. You asked him about the women he’d loved, and asked him to pick one and tell you about her. The wave of affection that washed over you was sweet. Dean asked Hank about his last hunt, and you felt the fear and adrenaline and frustration with every turn to Hank’s story. When you asked Hank about his worst hunt, he didn’t want to talk about it. You put your hand on his arm, looked him in the eyes, and just gave him a small smile while asking him again. He shook his head, but started talking. By the end of the story, you were holding his hand in both of yours, tears shining in both his eyes and yours, as he talked about losing an old hunting partner. When he was done talking, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him, rubbing his back to soothe him.

When you all started packing up to leave, Hank paused for a moment, gently holding your arm with his hand. You looked up into his face, and he smiled at you.

“You ever need anything, darlin’, you feel free to call me, you hear? I’m sorry about how we met, but I’m not sorry we did. And with your psychic thing, you’d be a huge asset to any hunter when it comes to research and dealing with families. I’m sorry you got dragged into the life, but now that you’re here, you’ve got a friend, if you need it.” You pulled Hank into a hug and thanked him. You each added the other to your phones, and you waved as you parted.

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timeagainreviews · 5 years ago

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A Loch back at a Zygon Era

Hello friends! I've had quite the week! Monday was my birthday, so my boyfriend and I took a road trip around Scotland. We saw lots of things from the Beatrix Potter Garden in Birnam, to the Cave of Caerbannog from Monty Python, to the Devil's Pulpit in Dumgoyne. But our main destination was Loch Ness! We settled into our hotel by watching "Terror of the Zygons," which seemed appropriate considering our surroundings. Naturally, I decided to review it here. Before I do, however, I would like to thank all of you who have been liking and reblogging my stuff lately. It means a lot to know I'm connecting with people. Thank you for your support!

On the surface, "Terror of the Zygons," appears to be just like any other serial of its era. However, if you do a bit of digging, you'll discover that there are some interesting facts about its production. Did you know that there was a sort of "real-world," tie in with the story? No, I don't mean Nessie. Think closer to Mickey Mouse. In 1975, Tom Baker played the Doctor for the August "Disney Time," bank holiday special. After introducing several clips from Disney films, he is called away by the Brigadier to the events of Terror of the Zygons. I can't help but wish this information was known to me before writing my Doctor Who and Disney article! You can watch the clips on youtube. They feature Tom being suitably bizarre.

Along with having an unusual prequel, the story also had a deleted scene from the beginning which was later colourised by YouTuber "babelcolour," for the DVD release. This edited version is the one I rewatched for today's review. The scene begins with the TARDIS materialising invisibly. The Doctor walks out from nothingness, wearing a matching tartan tam and scarf, replacing his usual fedora and scarf. Not far behind are Sarah Jane and Harry Sullivan wearing said hat and scarf respectively. There's something rather humorous about the Doctor using his companions as human hat racks. Considering Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart's name, it seems appropriate that the Doctor is sporting the Royal Stewart tartan. I can't help but wonder if the costume department did this on purpose. After rematerialising the TARDIS to "fix," it back to it's usual broken police box state, the three continue their journey to answer the Brigadier's Disney Time summons. It seems an oil rig off the coast of Scotland has crashed into the sea just shortly after having lost radio contact.

After hitching a ride from the eccentric Duke of Forgill, the three meet up with a kilted Brigadier in a small Scottish inn where the landlord, Angus, plays bagpipes ad nauseam. They're really driving the Scottish shit home, which makes sense when you consider they filmed the episode in Sussex. Also gathered at the inn are Sergeant Benton, various UNIT soldiers, and a man from the oil company named Huckle. The Duke has some curt words with Huckle, informing him that any crewmen found on his land will be shot. After leaving in a huff, we see one of these crewmen wash ashore, seemingly alive. Over the past month, three different rigs have all met their demise. The gang splits up Scooby-Doo style. Dr Harry goes off to check on the injured crewmen, while Sarah stays behind to get the scoop from the locals. And the Doctor goes off to be the Doctor.

Back at the inn, Sarah mentions the odd nature of the Duke to Angus who promptly defends the duke as a good man. However, even he has to admit that the Duke has been acting strangely since the oil companies came. After letting go most of his servants, the only real bit of interaction he's had lately was gifting the inn with a goofy looking stag head. Nowadays the Duke keeps mostly to himself at Forgill Castle. The surrounding area of Tulloch Moor seems steeped in mystery. People go missing as the mist comes in, Angus tells Sarah as they're being spied upon from a distance. Eavesdropping in on the conversation over a veiny, bio-mechanical screen, an unknown figure watches from the shadows.

While driving alone, Harry spots the washed-up man from the rig and jumps out to help him. Believing him to be yet another trespasser, a beardy fellow by the name of Caber shoots the survivor and wings Harry across his brow, rendering him unconscious. Back in the bio-mechanical ship, alien villains twist and caress a fleshy panel in the weirdest form of nipple play ever seen on Doctor Who, causing the destruction of another oil rig near Ben Nevis. While trying to decipher the signal that has been jamming the oil rigs' radios, the Doctor learns of Harry's brush with death.

After checking on Harry, the Doctor goes out to inspect the oil rig wreckage where he discovers strange holes in the foundation. After taking a cast of the holes with plaster of Paris, the cast reveals what looks like the shape of an impossibly large sharp tooth. During a call with the Doctor, Sarah is attacked by the previously seen alien hand, which belongs to none other than a fearsome Zygon! I've always loved their design, especially in this scene. Something about the shape of its mouth is particularly disturbing. I was slightly disappointed about the redesign from the new series. I'm a big fan of the Zygon cat nose. I almost named one of my cats Zygon due to his dark orange fur and similar nose shape, but my partner at the time vetoed that idea. I named him Rory instead.

After discovering both Harry and Sarah missing, the Doctor discovers Sarah in a decompression room for divers, the door slightly ajar. I was annoyed by the fact that the Doctor fell for such an obvious trap, but it also led to an intriguing sequence. Harry's nurse, Sister Lamont, closes the heavy door behind the Doctor and seals it shut for decompression. Running out of air, the Doctor hypnotises Sarah and enters into a trance to conserve air. I'm a big fan of any time the Doctor acts like a bit of a mystic. I'm a meditator myself, so it's cool to see the Doctor tap into the innate powers of thought control. One of the side effects of certain meditations is a slowing of breathing. It was nice that the scene doesn't overly explain this. It allows Tom the chance to really play up his weird alien charm as his eyes roll back and he howls toward the ceiling. Moments like these are why I love Tom Baker so much. He's not afraid of being utterly bizarre.

It's around this time we begin to learn a little about the Zygons. Having taken Harry to their ship, their leader, Broton, tells him a bit about their history. After they crash-landed centuries ago they awaited rescue while subsiding on the lactic fluid of their giant Nessie-like cyborg pet known as the Skarasen. That's correct, you did not misread that- they feed off of cyborg breast milk. Only with a show like Doctor Who can you get a sentence like that. You've kind of got to love that. After discovering their planet was destroyed by a cosmic event, they redirected their efforts toward getting their suckers on Earth. The Skarasen is to be the form of Earth's destructor, as no human weapon could hope to penetrate its augmented skin. In order to move their plan into motion, the Zygons gas the village, knocking the Brigadier and the UNIT soldiers out cold, thus allowing them to move in secret. Luckily for the Doctor and Sarah, Sergeant Benton was on the lookout for them where he saves them from death by asphyxiation.

After coming to, Huckle gives the Doctor a bio-emitter that attracts the Skarasen, which he found among the wreckage of the rig. Having bugged the inn, the Zygons reveal to Harry that they use the psychic imprint of humans in order to mimic their form. He sees the likes of Sister Lamont, Caber, and the Duke, stored in hibernation chambers, maintaining a link to their Zygon counterparts. They use Harry's form to slip back to the inn where they may fetch the emitter. But he is intercepted by Sarah who is concerned by his odd behaviour. She chases him into a barn where they scuffle in a manner that had me weirdly thinking of “Super Vixens.” Russ Meyer's Doctor Who is not something I ever expected to imagine. After a bit of trouble, Zygon Harry falls from a hayloft onto his own pitchfork, killing him instantly and revealing himself to Sarah as a Zygon. However, the crafty Zygons completely evaporate his remains to hide any evidence. I wondered why they didn't just do the same thing to the emitter in the first place, but I guess the answer is "it doesn't do that." Ok, sure, whatever. Now free from his psychic link with the Zygon, Harry is able to sneak about on their ship unabated.

After realising the Zygons were working from the shadows, the Doctor assumes they must have bugged the inn somewhere, so the lads go about searching the place from top to bottom. I love Angus' indignant response to the idea that his inn might have actual bugs. Angus Lennie's performance as Angus is a true highlight in the story. Afraid of the humans discovering that the goofy stag head must be the bug, the Zygons decide to send the Skarasen to rid themselves of these tiresome humans. After figuring out the secret of the emitter, the Doctor draws the Skarasen away from the village only to find it has fused itself to his hand. But Harry's meddling with the ship's systems allows the Doctor the ability to toss the emitter in the path of the Skarasen, destroying it in the process.

The Doctor and friends meet up and go to Forgill Castle to ask permission to drop depth charges into Loch Ness, the source of the signal. Their hope is to draw the Zygons out. Meanwhile, the Sister Lamont Zygon goes to fetch the stag head and fights with Angus in the process, killing him. It's a sad ending for one of the more likeable characters, but it's also kind of wonderful in its simplicity. I never quite understood why the Zygons needed to turn people into electric balls of something I might pull out of my hairbrush, as they did in "The Zygon Invasion." If anything, I much prefer the updates they received in Mark Morris' "The Bodysnatchers." Using venom from their suckers matches their physiology far better than superpowers. Morris really fleshed out the Zygons in a way I wish the show would. Seeing them in their initial incarnation using brute force seems far more practical to me. I think sometimes, more is less.

After discovering a way into the Zygon ship, they save Harry, but the Zygons flee with the Doctor still onboard. The Doctor gets a wonderful opportunity to match wits with Broton in a speech that includes my all-time favourite Fourth Doctor line- "You can't rule the world in hiding. You've got to come out on to the balcony sometimes and wave a tentacle." Evidently, that line was ad-libbed by Tom Baker, only further solidifying my love for the man. He makes a good point though, the Zygons have mostly been working from the shadows, in secret. The Zygons fly away, masking their trail from UNIT, still hiding. I must admit, it's not abundantly clear what their plan actually is. Sure they intend to use the Skarasen against earth's weapons, but there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of explanation as to how the oil rigs play into everything. There's mention of turning the Earth into something more habitable for Zygons, but I'm honestly not sure. I asked my boyfriend what his impression was, and he couldn't quite figure it out either.

There's a lot of what happens at this point in the story that seems like happenstance. The UNIT crew and Sarah end up going to London, which also happens to be where the Zygons have set their next target. They plan to swim the Skarasen up the Thames to wreak havoc on Westminster Abbey. In my review for "Castrovalva," I mentioned how the Fourth Doctor's super-heroics were oftentimes overstated, and what comes next is nothing shy of extraordinary. After rigging some ventricle type wiring from within his cell, the Doctor uses his own body to complete the circuit, allowing UNIT to see past the Zygon's scramblers and pinpoint their location. I loved that it was Benton that did this, by the way. This was twice in one story where Benton got to play hero. They pinpoint the ship's location to be a disused quarry, which made me ugly cackle. Classic Doctor Who used quarries so often to make up an alien planet, that the idea of them saying "This actually is a quarry," seemed almost cheeky. Broton, thinking the Doctor has died, uses his Duke disguise once more to go plant another emitter in Westminster. After releasing the human captives aboard the Zygon ship, the Doctor sounds an alarm and sets off the self destruct killing the remaining Zygons onboard. Yay, murder!

The UNIT soldiers dispatch Broton after a fumbling fight scene between him, Harry, and Sarah. All the while, the Skarasen is working its way up the Thames. It's a brilliant little bit of puppetry mixed with stop motion animation that I found completely charming. Even if it does look a bit naff, it's effective enough to be a suitable set piece to end such an episode. It's very much within the tone of the story to have the Loch Ness monster stomping through London. The Doctor manages to trace the emitter and toss it into the open jaws of the Skarasen. It nom nom noms the emitter into nothingness, causing it to lose all interest in the Abbey. The Doctor casually supposes that it will most likely return to its home of Loch Ness. I loved that the show kept the Loch Ness mystery intact. After all is said and done, "Nessie," may still be out there. It wouldn't have felt right killing off a beloved cryptid that brings so much wonder to many. Such feelings of wonder are what Doctor Who thrives upon. Sadly, while we got to keep Nessie, we say goodbye to some regulars. This marks the last regular appearance of both the Brigadier and Harry. With the Doctor no longer relegated to the Earth, UNIT begins to play a much smaller role in the story. And Harry, now back in London, hasn't a lot of need to continue travelling with the Doctor. It's an almost unceremonious end of an era for Doctor Who.

All in all, I really enjoyed this story. While I feel like it somewhat falls apart in the final act, the mystery and intrigue in the first few episodes really draw you in. Even my boyfriend, who is a casual fan, was drawn in by the atmosphere. You can see the beginnings of what was to become the more horror-themed stories such as "The Talons of Weng-Chiang," or "The Horror of Fang Rock." The Zygons are, for me at least, a classic baddie. They may not be as popular or iconic as the Daleks or Cybermen, but I think they work as their own kind of threat. Bringing them back has also proven to be successful. The Big Finish audio "The Zygon Who Fell to Earth," is well worth a listen. There's a lot of care put into this story that I think makes it stand out from others. Geoffrey Burgon's beautifully haunting music was a nice change of pace from Dudley Simpson's usual work. The track "A Landing in Scotland," is particularly memorable. The Zygon ship interior being organic was a unique touch that we rarely see in Doctor Who, save for maybe "The Claws of Axos," and the model work was also pretty damn charming. Having recently been to both Loch Ness and Ben Nevis, it really added something to the experience as well. There is a surprisingly low amount of episodes that take place in Scotland, which is unfortunate. If there's anything this trip has taught me, is that Scotland has a lot to offer. There are so many peaks and valleys covered with lush greenery and deep dark waters. It's easy to imagine that somewhere, something is lurking down below. Hats off to Robert Banks Stewart and Robert Holmes for seeing this potential, and turning out something magical.

#doctor who #fourth doctor #tom baker #sarah jane smith #elisabeth sladen #nicholas courtney #BRIGADIER LETHBRIDGE STEWART #zygons #harry sullivan #ian marter #Time and Time Again #tardis #bbc #loch ness #nessie #loch ness monster #skarasen #terror of the zygons

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