#let him disembowel ward to get himself out

[shellxrls]

me and moony talking ab putting rafe in a saw trap until he’s so scared he pisses and shits himself…

[starr-finn]

Hi girlie!! So I've decided to send a faith req bc ofc

- So all I want is just...

- John

- Yk???

- OK anyway so yk when John's praying to the Lord, and he's like 'Please I can't do this anymore'

- I'm pretty sure it ends up being a fake and it's not the lord

- But what if it was, and the Lords like 'I hear you, you must keep on. I will send you help.'

- And he sends reader, who's like... an angel-ish?

- They can help by healing and pacifying demons for John to kill

- They're also very nice

- And John rlly likes them

- But once he finishes the job, he realises that he'll have to let them go

- But when that comes, readers like 'Well, jobs technically not over since there's still ALOTTA evil about'

- So yea :>

EEEEEe my first faith request!!! Bestie I will 100% do that for you!

Hope you like this one!!

John ward x angel!Reader

Authors note: John is kind of pining, and Reader is incredibly sweet. John is super sweet but incredibly scared, he's absolutely shaking,(H/L) is hair length, (H/C) is hair color, (S/C) is skin color, mostly from an outside POV following John

warnings: Mentions of blood, religion, guts, and talking about Gary, god, and angels, Reader and John are just vibing, killing demons, and helping each other, non-biblically accurate depictions of angels

John was staring down the barrel of a fight with a man who...wanted him dead, wanted to kill him violently, in the meanest, most aggressive way possible, and then sacrifice him to the antichrist, disembowel him and use him as a sacrificial lamb, so, what does he do? pray, he begs, pleads for god to remove him from the situation, and for the first time, god responds

"John, why do you beg? do you not think what you are doing is for the good of the world?"

John is shaking by this point "I'm scared Lord, what do I do? I don't want to die here"

"It does appear you are in over your head, I offer you some help from one of my angels, however, you must finish this fight, then I will get you out of this building alive"

John nodded violently, and then suddenly a bright, white light engulfs everything around him and then, and he was greeted by the most beautiful being he's ever encountered, their (S/C) skin looked like it was glowing, and their (H/L), (H/C) hair looked as if it was made of pure silk, they were beautiful, the purest being he had ever met. He had never met anyone like them, And they looked like they were ready to fight, the sword they were holding looked so well crafted. He suddenly felt at ease, almost comforted, by the presence of this beautiful angel

you smile at him "Hello! you must be John, the lord has summoned me to help you clear the world of evil"

You smile and stand beside him "Let's finish this..." before you immediately slash at Gary, who dodges fast and goes in for another attack, John stares at you for a few seconds before shaking it off and raises his crucifix, and starts to...well purify Gary (?)

The fight lasted longer than you and John wished it did, mostly because of the 'Rain of spiders' thing, however, you both come out on top, but unfortunately, John knew he had to let you go now, he didn't want that, he thought you were so cool and friendly, and interesting. Then you turned and looked at him "The lord says we still have more work to do, how about we deal with these demons together? we seem to be more powerful together." John never felt himself jump up like he did when you said that, he immediately jumped on the chance to have you with him while he's fighting these devils that are plaguing the world, all he wanted, was to keep you close. The Lord did keep his promise, he got John out alive, however, he also gave John a new friend, he never felt like he could trust someone like he felt he could trust you, even those he trusted still felt...odd to him, however, with you, there were no trust issues, but at the same time, everything he tried to hide seemed to come out in one way or another. He made a couple of new friends, helped countless people, and made it out of a scary situation alive, sure, death had happened, but all wars come with casualties, and he knew this was just the beginning of a war that would last for years to come, but he was ready, he had you, and father Garcia after all.

I'm incredibly proud of this one! this might be my longest fanfic ever or at least one of them! hope you like this one!

[sparrow-stunned]

Sooner or later at this point platonic Zhongli is going to snap he already lost guizhong and now his beloved precious daughter is living in either a cave or ruins of mondstadt he's probably having a break down at mama guizhongs grave trying to see where he went wrong without her help raising their baby I wouldn't be surprised if he goes all mother gothel or story book dragon(but better because Zhongli) to try and keep his child "where they belong" because the poor old dragon doesn't won't to let his child leave the nest especially with Venti

He's probably talking to cloud retainer to like

Zhongli: my baby left the abode for some no good no money no home bard

Cloud retainer: one remembers when little ganyu left to the harbor and now one has shenhe who hasn't left there's still a chance my lord

Zhongli: you're right I can either dispose of that no good dirty bard that is barbatos or just keep my little one in liyue

Cloud retainer: I mean sure my lord but shenhe just stays in order to not start a massacre and I want her to at least leave from time to time

Ooh now we're getting into less funny overprotective dad and more scary territory with a snapped zhongli. (I’m not gonna go the very very dark route because that’s a little too close to not funny things, so.) but yes, every time he looks at venti, it’s just… guizhong died for this?? piece of shit???? to touch my child????

i can just imagine zhongli standing in guili plains or sitting on that stone table near cloud retainer’s abode, eyes distant as he reminiscences over the past. Something something osmanthus wine, but then he gets so angry thinking about the marriage/little dragon leaving the nest that he just. crushes a cup into splinters accidentally without even realizing, until cloud retainer scolds him it.

for zhongli, I think it’d be hard to look at his child and realize, oh. they're not a child anymore. he doesn’t have to act so paternal all the time. I mean, if we look at canon, he only just recently gave up his role as geo archon. the man has a problem with letting things go.

but before he realizes—if he does, it’ll take decades, if not centuries—I think he would definitely try some “let’s isolate my little one… they’re just not thinking straight. some time out, and they would realize what an awful decision it would be to leave liyue.” while I think he usually wouldn’t be this, em, severe—he’s pretty levelheaded, being god of contracts and all—he doesn’t realize that he’s kind of latching onto darling as some kind of tie to the past. It’s always the nostalgia that gets you.

as for venti, I think zhongli genuinely does trust venti—but not with his child. zhongli barely trusts himself with them, how can he just let his little one wander into what he considers to be a lawless land (when compared to liyue’s legal code).

I love, love that conversation between cloud retainer and zhongli. really lets you see the difference in their thinking— adaptable vs rigidness. for all of cloud retainer’s haughtiness, she’s actually pretty lenient with her wards. she’s considerate about what’s the best for them, whereas zhongli is just all, ‘how can i return to what our relationship was like in the past?’

can you just imagine zhongli writing in a little book of all the ways to… put venti out of action, to put it politely.

zhongli: okay, so let’s start brainstorming some ideas. i think it’d be pretty hard even for the anemo archon to escape being crushed by a million spears. or we can keep him from seeing my little one by making sure they never leave liyue.

cloud retainer: that’s a bit… too forward thinking.

zhongli: okay you’re right, instead of a million spears, let’s say a thousand. that should be a good number to start with. we can always add more if we need to.

cloud retainer: I feel like we’re not on the same wavelength….

(bonus for venti rifling through zhongli’s stuff to try and impress his spouse’s parent and finds just a book, full of very detailed, graphic ways of disemboweling someone that looks oddly like him. descriptions of a person also has two braids, and green eyes, and—holy shit, he says to darling, I think your dad is trying to kill me. like actually planning to do it.

don't be ridiculous, darling says, rolling their eyes. if he really wanted it, you wouldn’t be alive to find out about it.)

[silverflame2724]

WWX decides to kill two birds with one stone and with the help of WQ reforges the Stygian Tiger Seal into a artificial golden core replacement which she implants into WWX.

WWXs eyes are now permanently red and he has the full power of the seal at his fingertips at all times because its part of him now.

Another side effect of this Stygian Core is discovered when WWX misses JZXs ambush and is instead attacked and disembowled in Carp Tower in full view of the cultivation world but then immediately regenerates without a scratch and blood ruined robes.

Watching WWX be more annoyed at the bloody robes than being disembowled because the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation has apparently cultivated to immortality USING RESENTMENT shakes a lot of people.

“Huh.” Wen Qing says as she observes yet another failure of Wei Wuxian’s inventions quite literally blow up in his face. “So this Seal of yours protects you?”

Wei Wuxian coughs from the smoke of his busted invention, “Well, yeah. What about it?”

“It’s sentient, correct?”

“Yeah....?”

“Hmm.” Wen Qing observed the Seal slowly bobbing up and down. “Can you circulate resentful energy through the Seal for a moment? Don’t make it do anything. Just channel resentful energy through it like you would if you channeled spiritual energy normally.”

“Okayyy??” Wei Wuxian was perplexed but nevertheless obeyed and watched as Wen Qing’s eyes brightened. “What? What is it? Wen Qing, tell meeeeee! Don’t leave me out!!!!!”

“Brat, I’m trying to concentrate.” She scolded him, but her tone was fond.

Wei Wuxian waited a few more moments before it seemed like Wen Qing had seen enough.

“I want you to calm down when I say this, but I think you can reforge the Seal into a core which I can transfer into you.”

Wei Wuxian was silent......for about two seconds. “............What?”

Wen Qing sighed. “Wei Wuxian, when you channeled resentful energy through the Seal, the Seal acted much like how it would if someone were to channel spiritual energy through their core. The Seal can be made into an artificial core is what I’m saying.”

“I.....you are sure?” Wei Wuxian asked. He knew Wen Qing wouldn’t joke about this.

“Yes. I’m about eighty percent sure this will go well. I can even knock you out when I cut you open this time.”

“I.....okay.” Wei Wuxian was at a loss for words.

“So I’ve rendered you speechless.” Wen Qing smiled. “That kinda feels good.”

Wei Wuxian pouted.

...........

It took a few days to reform the Seal into a form that would resemble a core but Wei Wuxian was a genius and having Wen Qing there to bounce ideas off of helped in giving him a clue as to how a core should look and feel like.

“Are you ready?” Wen Qing asked.

Wei Wuxian, who was one hundred percent not ready, said, “Yes.”

Wen Qing saw through this. “It will be alright.” She squeezed his hand. “This time, it will be alright.”

That was the last thing he heard before he was knocked out.

.

.

.

When he awoke, his eyes had burned for a little before the pain dissipated.

Wen Qing had been in the midst of declaring the operation successful when she suddenly paused, “Huh.”

“What is it?” He asked nervously. Did something go wrong?

“Oh.....it’s, hmm. A’ Ning, get me some water, will you?”

Wen Ning returned not long later and locked eyes with Wei Wuxian. He seemed quite startled and that made Wei Wuxian even more curious. Based on Wen Qing’s reaction, it wasn’t anything bad, but still.....

“Wei Wuxian.”

“Yes?”

“Look at your reflection and you’ll understand why A’ Ning and I looked startled.”

Wei Wuxian did.

And he was shocked to see that his eyes have now become a brilliant shade of red. “What the hell?”

“Mmhm.” 

“Why are my eyes red???”

“Well, Wei Wuxian, I’m not sure if anyone’s told you, but you’re aware your eyes turn red everytime you use demonic cultivation, right?”

“Umm, no??”

“Well, they do. And considering what your core is, well. I’m not entirely surprised this happened. It was certainly unexpected though.” She finished cleaning up and left Wei Wuxian to just sit and admire his reflection.

...................

A week and some carefully supervised experiments later, Wei Wuxian had full control over his core. It was really just the same thing as how one would normally use a golden core, so it didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it. However, considering his core is the Seal, he also had the ability to control thousands of corpses and this time without any of the side effects.

He also spent time trying to get Suibian to respond to him using resentful energy. Considering that the sword was a spiritual sword, he was unsure of the compatibility but Suibian seemed to adapt well enough and Wei Wuxian was so glad he didn’t have to give up ever using his beloved sword again.

The next step on his agenda was to update the wards. Using the power of the Seal to strengthen it was a walk in the park and Wei Wuxian finally felt like despite how the cultivation world was always on the verge of killing him and the Wens, they’d be safe. The wards would hold out.

He then started absorbing all the deep-seated resentment in the soil to make it more fertile as well as trying to clear the Burial Mounds resentment by listening to the stories of the dead and helping them pass on. He also painstakingly dug up all the strewn about corpses, burned them and held proper funeral rites for them.

The crops flourished, the Wens and him were well-fed, and the Burial Mounds started to lighten up. Wei Wuxian no longer looked to be on the verge of death and he was able to cultivate without any problem.

Like this, time passed peacefully.

..........................

He was invited to his nephew’s one month celebration not long later and Wei Wuxian decided that this would be a good time to show the cultivation world that he truly is the grandmaster of demonic cultivation they all claim him to be. (In truth, he never considered himself to be any sort of grandmaster considering how little he knew of demonic cultivation, but it was different now.)

He told Wen Ning and the other corpses - of the resentful spirits that stayed behind saying they wanted to help him - to watch for any Jins since he trusted they’d take this chance to attack the Burial Mounds.

After he put on a concealing talisman for his eyes - since he knew that his different eye color would make a huge uproar -, he took to the skies with Suibian and nearly teared up. He’d missed flying. He’d missed this feeling. Laughing happily, he circulated the resentful energy in his core and sped up, becoming a black blur as he flew straight over Qiongqi Path.

When he landed at the foot of Koi Tower, invitation in hand, the Jin guards seemed surprised to see him there but had to let him in, not wanting to offend him. 

Jiang Yanli-- no, it was Jin Yanli saw him and waved excitedly, beckoning him over. Out of his sight, Jin Guangyao and Jin Guangshan seemed surprised to see him there.

“A’ Xian!”

“Shijie!” The form of address slipped out.

Her face softened. “You made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

The whispers of the people around him, wondering why he was there, surrounded him, but he ignored it. “Shijie, here’s my present!”

She looked at the bell with a little bit of wonder. “What does it do?”

“It’ll ensure that high level resentful beings and below won’t be able to move!”

“Oh, A’ Xian! This is perfect.”

“Thank you.” Jin Zixuan said, awkwardly. Wei Wuxian had forgotten he was there.

“No need! If it’s for Shijie’s son, I’d do anything!”

“He’s my son, too.”

Wei Wuxian made a face at that. “Well, yeah.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng called and then stopped. “You have your sword?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged, “Yep!” He twirled around. “I started picking Suibian up again! But let’s not focus on that, Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng seemed hesitant but dropped it readily enough as they started bickering like they used to.

Suddenly--

“Wei Wuxian!” Someone yelled.

Wei Wuxian groaned. Can one day go on without someone yelling my name with hatred??? Like, please??

“Yeeeeeees?” He drawled tiredly.

And some Jin guy that vaguely looked like Jin Zixuan stomped in, looking murderous. “You, remove the curse that you put on me!!”

Murmurs started up all around them.

“Curse?” Wei Wuxian looked confused. “What curse? And who are you anyway? Am I supposed to know you from somewhere??” 

“You know who I am!!”

“No, I don’t actually.” Wei Wuxian scratched his head as he walked forward to get a better look. He really didn’t know!

“That’s Jin Zixun.” His shijie said, coming up to him. “From the Phoenix Mountain hunt?” Before Wei Wuxian could say anything, she continued. “The one that was supposed to apologize to you.”

“Hmm?” Wei Wuxian thought really hard. “Oh! I remember you now!” He said to a rather red-faced Jin Zixun. “Sorry about that buddy, but uhh I didn’t curse you! I didn’t even remember you until now!”

“It must be you! It has to be you!!” He screamed and it was really grating on his nerves. “See! Look at this!” He ripped his robes open and everyone gasped at the evidence of the Hundred Holes curse on his torso. 

Wei Wuxian whistled. “Well, that’s quite some curse. But I still didn’t do it.” Jin Zixun looked ready to refute so he continued, “Why would I curse you secretly when I usually make a big production of those I kill?”

People had to admit he had a point.

Jin Zixun continued to scream expletives until he finally rushed forward and in a rather bold move, drew his sword, plunging forward. However, in his anger, he completely missed his target and the direction of the blade pointed towards Jin Yanli.

“A’ Jie!!” Jiang Cheng screamed

Wei Wuxian was the closest to her and pushed her back, stepping in front of her taking the sword to his gut.

“A’ XIAN!!!” “WEI WUXIAN!!” “WEI YING!!” Jin Yanli, Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji, who was actually there, all screamed.

And Wei Wuxian who had just been disemboweled, grit his teeth and pulled out the sword. Which, in hindsight, was a horrible decision since blood got everywhere. Though not so much when his stomach stitched itself back together. “................Huh.” I knew I regenerated quickly considering how often I got hurt plowing the fields and digging up the corpses to put them to rest, but damn that was quick. Though..... “My robes!” He fake-cried, turning his attention to a stunned Jin Zixun. “You ruined my robes! I just managed to scrounge up enough money to buy this new pair and you ruined them!!!!” He fretted over the large rip over his abdomen. “What am I going to tell Wen Qing? She just told me not to stain them!”

The entire cultivation just stared at him in silent shock, making Wei Wuxian feel a little self-conscious. 

“Uhh, what are all of you staring at me for?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng said with all the patience of an exasperated brother. “Is that the only thing you can ask?!” He glared, signaling for two Jiang disciples to restrain Jin Zixun from anymore stupid ideas he’d like to enact. “When did you cultivate to immortality?”

“I didn’t??? What do you mean??”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, checking him over. “Are you alright?”

“Hmm? I’m a little dizzy considering all the blood I’ve lost, but it’s nothing big!” He grinned. It felt nice to have Lan Zhan care for him rather than fight with him.

“Wei Wuxian, stop flirting with Hanguang-Jun and answer the damn question.”

Wei Wuxian turned his attention back to his brother and pouted at him, missing Lan Wangji’s red ears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“A’ Xian.” Shijie said and Wei Wuxian abruptly realized her robes had his blood on them. 

“Shijie, I’m sorry I got your robes dirty!”

“It’s fine.” She patted him. “But A’ Xian, I know you didn’t pay attention to those lectures, but only immortals can heal from wounds like that that quickly.”

“Really?”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan confirmed.

“Huh. So I’m immortal?”

“Yes.” Jiang Cheng deadpanned. “And you didn’t even notice it. In true Wei Wuxian fashion.”

Lan Zhan frowned then. He had still been checking Wei Wuxian’s pulse. “Wei Ying, what happened to your core?”

“Hmm? .........Oh shit.”

“Why is it covered in resentment?”

“Oh. Umm.” Wei Wuxian really was at a loss for words now. “We can discuss that later?”

“Wei Ying.”

“Aiya, how do you make my name sound like reprimand?”

“Don’t try to deflect the conversation.” Jiang Cheng said, now paying attention.

Wei Wuxian groaned. “Okay. Well, everyone would have found out sooner or later but umm. I might have cultivated to immortality accidentally via demonic cultivation? Haha, ha......”

No one laughed with him. They all looked pretty shaken and Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh at their reaction. He felt pretty detached from it all, to be honest.

“Can we all just forget about this and continue celebrating Jin Ling’s one month celebration?”

And everyone collectively said, “No.”

“Aww.”

___________________

To this day, I’m still unsure of whether it’s Carp Tower or Koi Tower.

[delimeful]

playing in the dark

Day 7: Fairytale

warnings: fighting, violence, dumb decision making by idiot teens

-

Roman hummed to himself, trying to break up the overwhelming quiet surrounding him as he trekked deeper into the woods. 

This was probably a bad idea, like a super bad idea according to all the tall tales he’d ever been told about these woods by his overprotective parents, but he wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. He fiddled with the hagstone in his hand, occasionally tossing it from side to side or peering through it at the shrubbery around him. He hoped the hole in it really was naturally formed, because he’d spent ages rooting around for it in the riverbed. 

He peeked through it again. Still nothing. 

Who knew fae were so hard to find? He huffed to himself, quickening his pace. He’d never been this deep in the woods before, and he tripped over gnarled roots a frustrating number of times. The only upside was the conspicuous absence of any bothersome insects. Without their buzzing or any other wildlife noises, the eerie silence was almost a physical presence. 

Humming becoming a bit more strained, Roman didn’t realize how sharply the ground cut off until he stepped onto nothing but air. He yelped, pinwheeling his arms, but his balance failed him and everything became a disorienting jumble of colors as he tumbled down the hill through thorny brush. 

He groaned, lifting his head, and then froze at the sight of another person only feet away. 

The stranger was frozen as well, halfway through the process of stripping a blueberry bush bare. He was dressed in patched-up, worn clothes that seemed entirely out of date. He looked about Roman’s age, and his raven hair spilled over his shoulders haphazardly, more like a disheveled bird’s nest than a regal mane. Roman gaped, and the spell seemed to be broken. The stranger bolted, movements erratic and unnatural. 

“Hey!” Roman jumped to his feet, ignoring the sting of scratches, and charged after him. Though he was sprinting too hard to lift the hagstone steady and look through, he was certain this guy was a fae; who else moved like that? 

The fae was fast, too, and Roman was barely able to keep up with him despite being one of the faster runners in his town. “Come back!” 

As though to spite him, the fae seemed to vanish into thin air between one tree and the next. Roman cursed, stopping to pant with his hands on his knees as he searched for any sign of his quarry. A furious yell made him twist around, just in time to see the fae divebomb him from above, tackling him to the ground. 

“What the-” Roman cut himself off with a screech as he realized that the fae had a knife, and was in the process of trying to stab him. Heart racing, he grabbed at the wrist and twisted harshly, managing to make him drop the weapon with a dull thud. The fae made a feral sound, and his other hand latched onto Roman’s neck with surprising strength for his skinny frame. 

Unfortunately for him, Roman had been taking wrestling classes since he was five. He knew how to grapple, and grapple he did, grabbing and kicking and rolling in the dirt like they were schoolboys in a tussle. The fae’s consistent attempts to disembowel him sort of ruined the illusion. 

Eventually, he finally managed to pin the other boy by the shoulders, sitting on his bony torso with his full weight. “Hey- listen-” The fae snarled and snapped, thrashing wildly, and Roman grit his teeth and pulled out his last resort, a small vial full of petals. He lifted it to his mouth to tug the cork out and dumped the red petals on the fae’s face. 

The fae did stop struggling, expression confused, but showed absolutely no aversion to the plant, trying to blow the petals off his mouth with small puffs of air. Roman sat back, stunned, and finally lifted the hagstone to look at the stranger. Nothing. 

“You’re human!” He said, almost accusing. The stranger squinted at him. 

“Uh, duh. Why else would you be chasing me, you freaky Sidhe?” He spoke, voice worn and wary and not at all lyrical as Roman had expected. His brain stalled. 

“What? I’m human.” He said, wondering if he’d hit the guy’s head against the ground too hard. 

“Are not.” 

“Are too!” 

“Are not.” 

“Are too!” 

The stranger huffed. “Look, I’ve been dodging fae my whole life. I know how to spot them, and I don’t care how thick your glamor is, I can smell the magic on you.” 

“Your nose must be broken, then. Or your brain.” Roman sniffed, turning his nose up, and then jumped about a foot in the air when the stranger blew one of the petals at him. He scrambled back, glowering. 

“Stop that! I’m allergic!” 

The jerk raised an eyebrow at him, rolling back to his feet in an uncannily smooth movement, and Roman watched him warily as he snatched his dagger from the ground and shoved it back into its sheath. “The heck do you mean, you’ve been running from fae, anyways? Didn’t your parents teach you how to ward them off?” His own parents talked about little else, some days.

The stranger’s expression cooled a few degrees. “They would’ve been pretty bad at it, seeing as they didn’t ward the fae off well enough to keep them from taking me.”

Roman’s eyes grew wide. “You’re a stolen child!” He’d never known someone could survive being taken!

“Ding, ding, ding.” The stranger replied, voice irritated. “And you’re a fae, surprise!”

Roman frowned, matching the stranger’s scowl. He had weird allergies, so what? “I am not! I think I’d know if I was a fae. You’re just paranoid from running around in the woods like a forest creature.”   

The stranger turned away with a scoff, and Roman hurried after him. He wasn’t letting someone this interesting get away without a fight. “Wait up!” 

“What do you want.”

“I want to be friends!” Roman darted in front of him and stuck a hand out, giving him a charming smile. “I’m Roman!”

The stranger remained stubbornly uncharmed, looking at Roman’s hand as though it had personally wronged him. “You can call me Anxiety.” 

Roman’s brow furrowed as the stranger- Anxiety stepped around him. “That sounds like a fake name.” 

“Are you telling me people in your town just go around giving their real names to strangers?” Anxiety shot back, still walking. “Cuz that would be monumentally stupid.” 

Roman shrugged. “Touché, I guess.” He trailed after Anxiety, humming absently, and then jumped when his guide twisted around sharply to face him.  

“Why are you following me?” He asked, body tense. Roman blinked at him, and then scuffed his shoe against the dirt in embarrassment. 

“Well… I’m sort of lost…” 

Anxiety’s groan echoed through the woods. 

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.02: “Raising Hell”

THEN: Sam shot God! Welcome to the end. Demon!Jack. Last week's non-scary ghosts or spirits or whatever. Strangely missing from the "Then:" Sam's godhole vision. It's actually a very short "Then." Maybe the episode itself is so good, so crammed full of wonderful things, that the "Then" had to be kept brief to make room for all of it.

Or then again, maybe not.

Now. We're still in Harlan, Kansas. A woman holding a scarf over her nose and mouth sneaks into the forbidden zone, and is startled by a neighbor. Or "neighbor." She's seen Close Encounters and knows the benzene story is fake (but if it was true, lady, I don't think that scarf would save you). And yet she's apparently never seen a horror movie, because the fact that her "neighbor" is silently and creepily staring at her doesn't raise any alarm bells. He stabs her a few times and then smokes out into an old-timey ghost who says "Disembowel. D-I-S-E-M-B-O-W-E-L. Disembowel." Well. Okay. She certainly doesn't look disemboweled, but I'll take your word for it. I mean, you spelled it and everything.

Title card. (BTW, you need to check out this very through breakdown of everything you're missing in the title card. It's fantastic.)

Nighttime. Harlan High School. Sam is large and in charge, but the people are restless. And apparently there are "hunters in the zone." Sam gets everyone's attention and tells them the EPA will be here tomorrow (a lie) and they need to stay out of the zone (the truth) and is adorably befuddled when he asks if there are any questions and everyone raises their hand. He's wearing a huge chain around his neck and, unfortunately, has gone back to the undershirt.

[[MORE]]

[[MORE]]

The zone. Dean and Belphagar. Dean's EMF meter is going crazy, and Belphagar says there are spirits about (are they ghosts? souls? spirits?) but they don't like him so they skedaddled. (Do we believe that?) Dean can't believe he's working with a demon again, and Belphagar can't believe he's working with a hunter, and it's the classic buddy comedy all over again. Except it's not a comedy and they're not buddies. (Do I miss Metatron?) He reminds us that his rationale for working with hunters is that he liked Hell the way it was. (Do we believe that?)

There's a fiery blast at the zone border, and even though Dean was facing it and Belphagar was facing in the other direction, Belphagar is the one who points it out and says "escape attempt, eleven o'clock." The bad guys can't cross the barrier, but rock salt can, which is convenient. Dean blasts a spirit away, who I believe is the same one from the "Then" but I can't be bothered to confirm and is relieved that the warding still works. Belphagar expositions that it won't last forever, and these ghosts/spirits/whatever are more dangerous than average. For example, the ghost Dean just shot was Francis Tumbelty, aka Jack the Ripper.

(Sidebar: Okay, I did actually rewind and use closed-captioning to confirm what Jack said, because what I heard was Francis Tomelty. And here's how my brain works: I can't remember my kid's phone number, I can't remember my license plate number, I can't remember to call the guy to fix the garage door opener, but I do remember that musician Sting's first wife was named Frances Tomelty. That's how useless my brain is. But Wikipedia confirms that Francis Tumbelty is, in fact, a Jack the Ripper suspect.)

I know, Dean, I feel the same way.

High school. It's daylight now. The citizens are still restless, someone's wife is "missing," the benzene story is wearing thin (sidebar: I'm still using captions, and they misspelled benzene,) and people are plotting an escape.

Zone. Ghosts/spirits/whatever are gathering in one of the houses. Francis Tumbelty, who does not have a British accent (but it turns out he was born in Ireland but raised in America so okay, I guess someone did their research), informs the group that they were released from Hell by God himself. And all of these spirits know what hunters are. And Belphegar's name is actually Belphegor. Well. So much to learn tonight. Tumbelty says they need to gather the spirits who are still in hiding. And they can break the warding because "Warding is a door, doors have locks, locks have keys." Actually, the analogy I would have used is that warding is a lock but WHATEVER. Their plan is to "make it as ugly as possible for those who stand guard." Well, the ineffective spooky makeup will help.

Outside. Hunters are patrolling the perimeter. Civilians sneak out of the bushes and then walk right down the middle of the dang street. And then meet a couple of very unscary ghosts. Oh no, what will happen?

I don't know, because we cut back to the high school. They found the first woman's body, and Cas thinks they need to tell her family, and Sam's all, can't do that yet, people are gonna panic. They're interrupted by the arrival of Rowena, which was a surprise to me because I covered the guest star credits. Although it shouldn't have been a surprise, since Dean called her for help in the previous episode. (See how useless my brain is?) She pretends to be more interested in Cas than Sam but I'm not fooled.

Sam says "Remember a couple of years ago when we were trying to get rid of Amara," as if that's how the conversation would go, as if that's anything either of them would need to be reminded of. What he really would have said was "You know the soul bomb you made for Amara? We need another one of those."

WHATEVER.

They don't want to use it as a bomb, they just want a way to capture the ghosts. Rowena thinks it would be too difficult, but they're interrupted by someone who tells Sam they have "a situation."

Zone. The situation is that the two civilians are facing down Dean and Belphegor. And apparently they've been standing there long enough for Sam to actually show up at the zone, which is miles away from where he was. WHATEVER. Dean explains that the guy is married to the woman who was D-I-S-E-M-B-O-W-E-L-E-D earlier and came to look for her. (BTW, we're almost 10 minutes in, and this is the first scene with Sam and Dean together.) Sam, in his kind way, tells them they need to go back to the school. Then black goo drips out of their eyes and Dean realizes they're possessed. The whole standing-and-staring part didn't clue him in (WHATEVER) but now he gets it.

Bowlegs! Hair blowing in the breeze! Something for everyone!

Tumbelty appears and tells them if they don't open the warding, the spirits are going to kill these two civilian vessels. The civilians drop to the ground, groaning in pain, and I remember back when the guys would have let the spirits out in order to save two innocent people. Or at least would have been conflicted about it. (WHATEVER.)

However, some unexpected shots ring out, sprinkling the possessed civilians with... confetti? How festive. Tumbelty zaps out and the Winchesters and Belphegor turn to see none other than Arthur Ketch. Who is also a surprise to me. I guess that gig as an insurance agent didn't work out. Dean seems ridiculously annoyed to see him. Ridiculous considering that they were working together fairly recently. (WHATEVER.)

And now, since none of my regular download sources worked out and I'm forced to rewatch on the CW app, I'm sitting through commercials. Like a goddamn animal.

Back at the school. Ketch says he just happened to be in the area when they sent out the call for hunters. Dean's still not pleased. What is his problem? Am I forgetting something? Did they leave on bad terms? His gun, stolen from the BMoL, shoots iron flakes. Which somehow expels the spirit without hurting the vessel. He and Rowena reacquaint themselves, and she holds no hard feelings against him regarding the whole prisoner thing, since he let her escape. Well, you actually bought that escape, Rowena, but okay. There is an uncomfortable level of eyefucking, as least as far as the Winchesters are concerned.

Belphegor shows up and they have to explain to Ketch that Jack is dead and oh, Sam's face, when he says "dead." This is the first time this episode has made me feel anything. Well, anything good. And it turns out Ketch was actually contracted by "an attractive female demon" (seriously, that just means a demon in an attractive female vessel but WHATEVER) to kill Belphegor. Her name is Ardat and I guess she's gonna show up later. Yawn.

At least sad Sammy is good.

Reno? I laughed and said ha ha, I wonder if Amara is here and it turns out she is! (Because, again, I covered the guest stars.) She's getting a massage. Her maseusse is replaced by Chuck, who looks about 10-20 years younger than he did the last time we saw him. (Just for Men. Find it in the men's section.) She's annoyed with his presence. He's rambling. He liked the Game of Thrones ending, which I guess is supposed to signal what an awful hack of a storyteller he is. Or to warn us that we won't like the ending of our own Show. Or both.

High school. Poor Cas has to lie to Restless Citizen #3 that they're looking for the other missing citizens. "You said you'd keep us safe!" the guys says. That cuts deep, man. Meanwhile, Rowena has given Dean a shopping list. She asks him about Ketch, even though, as Dean points out, they've obviously met. "That was more of a torturer-torturee relationship. Fun, but I didn't really get to know him." But Dean doesn't want to play matchmaker, and says she shouldn't get involved with Ketch. "I mean, Sam is right here," he says. "Why don't you guys get off high center and do it?" (No, not really.)

Cas comes up behind Dean, all rumpled and sad and wanting a hug, and he apologizes for "dropping the puck." Dean doesn't want to hear it. He's so very angry, at Cas and at Chuck and at his life being one giant rat maze. Cas doesn't think their whole existence has been a lie, because even though they were in a maze, they were still living their lives in that maze. That's what life is. Chuck sets up the obstacles, but they still run their own obstacle course. Dean doesn't accept this.

It's interesting that Dean is the one who's taking the truth about Chuck so hard. Sam and Cas were the ones who had faith, and you'd think they'd be knocked harder by the realization that there was never a benevolent God. But on the other hand, Sam's so used to being manipulated by outside forces; this is nothing new to him. And Cas has already seen how the sausage is made. So they're both just, yeah, this is how it is, let's deal with it.

However. I'm not feeling the Dean-Cas conflict at all. I don't really care. And I suspect it's going to be a Big Deal. {sigh}

I’m definitely feeling angry Dean. So much.

Zone. Nighttime. Dean and Ketch are on patrol. I mean, I guess it makes sense to leave Chief Sam in charge at the school, but I'm tired of the guys being split up. Dean gives Ketch one of the giant chains they've been wearing, and says it's iron, to prevent possession. Wow, that would be a heavy chain. They talk about God and Rowena, and then Dean gets a text message. "Trouble. Two hunters haven't checked in." Uh oh!

Meat packing plant. Seriously? There is a meat packing plant in the middle of this residential area? So many chains hanging from the ceiling. I wonder what kind of cage flashbacks Sam would have in here. (And if you fic that, I'd like to be notified, please and thank you.) Dean and Ketch search the place and then it gets cold and then Ketch is hurled against a wall. Hard. Lizzie Borden appears, prepared to take an ax to Dean's head, but an electronically altered voice says "Stop! Get out!" She zaps out and we see the voice belongs to... Kevin???

Turns out when Chuck said he was sending Kevin to Heaven, he lied. Um. Why? What's the rationale for this? I mean, he did things to make a good story, but what was the purpose of sending Kevin to Hell and not letting the Winchesters (or anybody else) know? Dean promises they'll get him to Heaven, and Kevin accept this happily, because Kevin knows that Dean always takes care of him, as promised. (Ha.) Kevin can feel the wards weakening, but he doesn't know if the other spirits can detect it. And the other spirits are afraid of Kevin because he was personally cast down by God. Um. Okay. WHATEVER. But this tells Dean they can use him as a spy.

Reno. Chuck is flipping through channels, and he spends a couple of seconds watching a cooking show where the recipe involves tripe. Which is so meta, isn't it?

He's whiny. I'm over it. So is Amara. And she suddenly detects (WHATEVER) that he needs her for some reason. She can feel his own version of the godhole? She pokes at it and it hurts. "Something happened. You're not complete. You're not at full strength."

Zone. Sam doesn't think using Kevin is safe. Well, he's already dead, so. Belphegor shows up and they're all, your wards are failing and he's all, duh, I told you that was happening, I thought you heroes would have this wrapped up by now. (Are they really fading due to the nature of wards, or is this deliberate? Discuss.) And this spell was a one-time thing - he can't do it again. Because...? We'll never know, because neither brother asks. WHATEVER.

This conversation is like some people. Stupid but pretty.

Belphegor knows Kevin and calls him a "whiny millenial" and my goodness, he gets around a lot for a low-level grunt, doesn't he? He tells the guys that Kevin can't get into Heaven because once a soul is cast into Hell, Heaven can't take it. I am quite sure that Show has forgotten about John and Bobby, who both accomplished that very thing, and I'm shocked to find Show actually address this. Belphegor says God made an exception, and that isn't likely to happen again, since God doesn't like them any more. Oh no! The only way to fix this is if someone else takes over for God!

Reno. Chuck checks out his own godhole, which looks just like Sam's. He pokes at it and winces in pain.

Zone. Sam feels pain in his own godhole. Because they're connected! He lies that he's okay and it's getting better and Dean's all yeah, right.

Sam, for a professional liar, you are so bad at it.

Zone. Spirit meeting. They know the wards are fading. Tumbelty thinks they should attack at a weak point, rather than waiting for the whole thing to collapse. Kevin shows up. They all know him, and some fear him. But Tumbelty knows he's buds with the Winchesters. Because all these spirits know the Winchesters. You know, I can understand all the demons knowing who they are. That's justified. But every resident of Hell? I'm not feeling it. WHATEVER.

High school. More heavy flirting between Rowena and Ketch. Somehow Ketch knows something she doesn't know - that a jolt of electricity will fast-forward her spell. Can we just skip this part? It makes as much sense as the Rowena/Gabriel detour when they were trying to open the rift. They're interrupted by a call from Dean, who demands she hurry. Yes, please.

Zone. Rowena shows up with a bag and runs right into Tumbelty. Who knows her. Because they used to date. All this romance for Rowena, and Sam's still sitting alone at the high school. Come on, Ro. Climb that mountain. Tumbelty tells her they've got Kevin, and sends a message for the Winchesters to meet them at their spirit house. Ketch shows up behind him, with his iron confetti gun, and blasts him, but Tumbelty whacks him with a rock. However, Rowena escapes.

{Commercial time. Zombieland 2 looks good.}

TFW is finally all together. Rowena tells them about Kevin. Dean asks if she has the soulcatcher, and for some reason, Sam has a problem with the name soulcatcher. I suppose this was supposed to be humorous. She does, but she doesn't know if it will work.

Spirit house. Winchesters show up. Tumbelty says if they shut down the warding, he won't devour Kevin. They say no. Tumbelty sticks his hand into Kevin, and this takes a really really long time, but Rowena finally shows up with the crystal and catches all of their souls. Boy, it's a good time devouring Kevin's soul took so very, very long. Rowena tells them this crystal isn't as powerful as the earlier version, and can only gather a few souls at a time. In fact, some of the souls here got away. Oooh, I wonder who.

Kevin tells them about the plan to break through the warding at the weakest point. Jump to the weakest point. There are at least 100 spirits there, according to Belphegor, and more are coming. Dean brings his gun up when someone approaches, but it's only Ketch. Oh, good, he escaped safely from Tumbelty's clutches! How fortunate. It's odd that he's no longer wearing that huge iron chain, though.

Dean tries shooting at the spirits they can't see, but Belphegor tells him there are too many. So Rowena goes forth with her soulcatcher. She still seems to be on this side of the warding, which means she's able to drag the souls through the barrier. I wonder if it would have worked better if she'd gone past the barrier. Then Ketch backhands her because, SURPRISE SURPRISE, he's actually possessed. He drips black goo from his eyes, just to confirm, and picks up the soulcatcher. Dean tries to shoot him, but is conveniently out of ammo. Tumbelty!Ketch monologues and then Dean pulls out his handgun and shoots him and he... tosses the soulcatcher to Dean? Drops it horizontally? Somehow, the thing ends up flying into Dean's hand.

WHATEVER.

(Or did Ketch toss it to him once he was depossessed? Discuss.)

Rowena takes it back and sucks up the few visible souls, including Tumbelty's. Yay! Success! Is Ketch alive? Dunno!

Time jump. Ketch is alive, with only a wounded shoulder, and is being loaded into an ambulance. Cas tells Sam that he tried to heal him, but couldn't. "You're just tired," Sam says. "We all are." Oh, I don't think so, Sam. Dean apologizes to Ketch, and lets us know it was an iron bullet, which is why it expelled Tumbelty. Ketch and Rowena exchange a longing glance. Dean stares. Angrily, maybe? Angry that Mary's ex dared to look for love again? Angry that Rowena is flirting with someone else right in front of Sam? Angry that Ketch is such a wuss that he actually needs an ambulance, and medical treatment, for a mere bullet to the shoulder? Angry that he's stuck inside a Buckleming episode? All of the above? He and Rowena exchange an uncomfortable look.

Aftermath! Kevin doesn't want to stay in the zone and hang out with the guys. He knows he can't get into Heaven, so he's just gonna ghost around and wander the earth. Sam tells him this is a terrible way to exist, and Kevin points out that it's better than Hell. And Kevin and Sam give us what might be the motto for just this episode, or maybe for the entire season:

I'm sorry, Kevin. I wish there was some way to make this right.

Me too. But there isn't. And sometimes, you just gotta accept that.

Kevin tells the Winchesters he loves them (d'aw) and they don't say it back (aw) and Belphegor quite easily makes a little opening in the barrier. So easily, that it really makes you wonder why he has so little power to keep it going. Yep, it sure does. Kevin is gone. Sad waves.

Reno. Amara is hitting the road. Chuck isn't invited. And she knows he's too weak to do anything about it. He can't leave this world without her help, and she ain't helping.

Zone. We see dozens of glowing souls flitting about. The warding won't last long. We need a plan B. "How," asks Dean. How indeed.

So. When I watched this for the first time last night, I desperately wanted to fast forward through the scenes with the spirits in the house. And the Ketch/Rowena stuff. It wasn't any better on rewatch. Some of this episode was just the usual Buckleming nonsense - badly written, stupid things happen for stupid reasons, yada yada yada. But the Kevin plot... can we blame that on the Buckleming? Or was that a showrunner master plan? Either way, it's annoying. And probably pointless. The only good thing about this episode was the confirmation of the connection between Sam and Chuck. I noticed a distinct lack of excitement on my Tumblr feed, so maybe a lot of us feel the same way. If you haven't watched this one yet, my vote is: don't bother.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

What We Lost and What We Have: Chapter 2

May 18, 2000, the night Sam learned 3 things.

John had cheated on Mary. Kelly Kline was dead. And his younger half brother Jack was born…

Nearly 17 years later their family never really recovered. But after a panicked phone call from Jack's uncle Castiel, their family will never be the same.

"It's Jack, there's something wrong with Jack..."

AU somewhat inspired by Episode 2x20 - What Is and What Should Never Be, and the season 14 storyline concerning Jack's illness.

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Chapter 2:  A history of dumbassery, inadequacy, and definitely not a dog

“Dean are you still there?” Castiel’s voice was tilting away from fear into the realm of frustration and irritation again.

There was a long pregnant pause before Dean responded.

“What?”

He recognized the noises in the background of the call now. A tinny intercom with someone repeating a doctor’s name in a cool casual tone, distant the ringing of phones, a crying baby...the sounds of a busy emergency room.

“Jack he…” Castiel took a shaky breath trying to center himself, “we… we went back to our hotel after… what happened at the cemetery.”

He seemed finally balance himself on the rock that was being annoyed with Dean. Dean was too damn tired to care.

Castiel rambled “Jack said he was tired and had a headache so I gave him some Advil and let him sleep. I thought he was fine, upset…" he jabbed the word at Dean, "still getting over the cold he caught at school but fine…”

“Just please get to the point,” Dean groaned, he vaguely remembered the teenager hacking up a lung in the graveyard earlier that day. “So what? Does the kid have the coughing plague or something?”

Castiel went dead silent.

“We… we went out for a late dinner last night and he…” his voice broke, “Jack collapsed… he had a seizure.”

Dean’s mouth went dry “...Shit.” was all he could think to say.

Dean’s medical knowledge didn’t really go beyond the basic first aid needed for the occasional burns and bruises that came with working around hot engines and moving parts in the auto shop. But years of watching… certain soap opera’s told him that was very bad. Unless...

“Is that… normal for him?” Dean asked lamely, he wasn’t exactly an expert on Jack’s medical history.

By the time Jack came around Dean had already moved out, and he hadn’t been exactly been going out of his way to spend time with the kid in the few years Jack lived with John part-time. He’d only really seen Jack when John couldn’t first a sitter for work.

“Would I CALL you if it was?” Castiel nearly spat voice shaking clearly regressing back into panic mode.

Dean bit back a spiteful, “Then why the fuck did you call!?”

He wasn’t heartless. Even if the two people in question were people he’d pay good money to have not come within the same state as him ever again. A kid in the hospital… it was some rough shit.

When Sam was little he’d broken his arm jumping off the front porch railing of their house trying to be Superman. He remembered his parent's frantic frustrated arguing on the way to the hospital about who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Sam. His mother trying gently to get him to sit still for the x-ray. The sound of Sammy crying.

He settled on the slightly less harsh. “What do you want from me then?”

Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh, the one he inevitable heard whenever he tried to speak to the man, like he was trying to explain physics to an eight-year-old.

“They… they want to run tests, blood, an MRI, I know one thing they’re testing for is meningitis, and if it’s that’s what it is…” He let the sentence hang.

There was another voice in the background of the call. probably a nurse by their soft reassuring tone and Castiel’s uneasy thank you’s. He came back after a moment.

“Listen they're moving Jack to a room if it’s what I said... then the doctor will probably want to see you and your brother or… something. I’ll… I’ll call you later in the morning when he’s settled in, please just… get here alright…?” Castiel sounded as exhausted as Dean felt.

Dean suppressed a yawn, “Yeah… yeah sure just um… how about after the sun comes up this time eh?”

Castiel abruptly hung up and Dean blinked blearily at the phone for a moment before snorting.

"Typical..."

The combination of the liquor, lack of sleep and sheer bizarreness of the conversation were making the whole call feel surreal, like a bang on the roof in the dead of night you weren’t sure whether you imagined it or not.

Maybe whatever was going on with the kid would sort itself out by morning and he wouldn’t have to deal with this…

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Seven-ten the next morning Sam saw the big black muscle car pull up beside his hybrid in the parking lot of Lawrence Memorial. Dean exited the car wearing a pair of dark aviators despite the fact the sun had only just risen.

“Long night?”

Dean pulled off the glasses and shoved them into his jacket pocket shooting Sam a deadly glare, clearly not over what happened the day before.

“Did Saint Castiel tell you anything new?” Dean sighed draining the last of a cup of fast food coffee.

“I still don’t know why you insist on calling him that,” Sam said with a long-suffering sigh.

Dean tilted his head sardonically and tossing the cup in the bin by the door, “Yes... you do.”

“Let me rephrase that.” Sam's voice sharpened, “Maybe just don’t today okay Dean? Maybe for once act like a functioning adult, because this is neither the time nor the place for your bullshit…”

Dean stared at him eyes narrowed for a long moment before his posture relaxed and he shrugged.

“Okay.”

“Okay…” Sam said in mild disbelief.

Dean sighed and scrubbed at his eyes, wincing, “yeah fine, I get it. This shit it’s... crazy.”

There was a long significant pause.

“Castiel said he’d meet us up by the pediatrics ward…” Sam said after a moment studying the hospital entry’s diamond-patterned linoleum.

“Pediatrics?” Dean seemed to wince at the sound of the word.

“Yeah, Dean… Jack’s 16,” Sam muttered, turning to walk inside without another word. He felt like maybe it was time for Dean to stew on that fact for a while.

Things were quiet for the entire ride to the third floor, each Winchester fuming in their separate corner of the elevator.

The door dinged pleasantly before popping open to reveal a pacing Castiel his suit jacket rumpled like he hadn’t taken it off since they met the morning before.

“Thank god finally.” he breathed, “I was beginning to think…” he sighed and shook his head, “never mind I just… the doctor’s need you to answer some questions about... your family...”

Castiel trailed off seeming to lose interest in explaining turning on his heel and walking determinedly down the corridor to the ward entrance, Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment before Sam shrugged and followed quickly behind.

“Is he… is Jack alright?” Sam asked awkwardly.

“He’s um…” Castiel sighed and paused to punch in a number in the keypad that kept random passersby out of pediatrics ward. “He’s been really out of it since we got here, he’s sleeping now.”

There was an electronic chime and he quickly opened the door, “he’s in the third room on the right…” Castiel muttered.

Something about the statement bothered Sam he quickly caught up with Castiel, “they’re keeping Jack on a normal ward?”

“Hmm?” Castiel blinked back sheepishly.

“It’s just… when you called you said they thought he might have meningitis,” Sam said carefully, “and if he did I doubt the medical staff would let us, let alone Jack himself near any of the other patients.”

Castiel stopped walking again but didn’t look at him, “No they um… he doesn’t have a high enough fever and or stiffness… they don’t think it’s that anymore…”

Sam nodded eyes narrowing slightly in confusion, there was something about that answer that made him uncomfortable.

It seemed Dean didn’t have any trouble putting his finger on what it was, “why didn’t you say that when you called this morning?”

There was an awkward silence inappropriately punctuated by the sound of children giggling in the distance. Castiel still didn’t look at them.

“I mean that was the reason you gave us to come today… right,” Dean’s words were deceptively casual.

Maybe it was his own vague hurt that kept Sam from telling Dean to shut up.

“What? did you think we wouldn’t come if we didn’t think It’d affect us?” Dean said cooly mouth twitching.

Castiel finally turned to look at him eyebrows drawn together in a warning.

“Dean maybe you shouldn’t…” Sam tried before being cut off by a hand, Dean’s eyes didn’t waver unphased by Castiel’s glare.

“Is that really what you think? That if you needed us we’d just let Jack, a kid, suffer? Do you think we’re that petty?”

“I…” Castiel’s eyes darted in the direction of Jack’s room. Through the window, Sam could just spot his blanket covered feet at the end of the bed.

“Do you really think we're that shitty of people!?” Dean’s voice rose.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he snapped back to Dean, “Think of you? I don’t think about you at all Winchester. I don’t know you!”

They both stared each other down for a long moment, sizing each other up. For a moment Sam thought they might start a fight right there in front of the wall mural of children of every race and color playing ring around the rosie, complete with a happy Sun.

But the seconds came and went.

“We would have come Castiel…” Sam said quietly.

Castiel finally looked up eyes watering slightly, and Sam could have sworn he saw the man’s hands shake.

“I couldn’t risk that…” he said softly.

The tenseness was broken a moment later by a sing-songy drawl.

“Well looks like the rest of the pissy party parade has arrived, so how about we take this little shindig out of the hall…”

Sam nearly leap a foot in the air, he hadn’t heard the nurse walk up, she stood behind him giving all three of them a smile that radiated the energy of someone who would just as easily disembowel them. With all their racket they probably deserved it.

“I’m sorry…” he glanced down at her name tag, “nurse Masters.”

She tapped her nails against her clipboard and gave him the same thin smile, “alright cupcake,” she tilted her head towards Jack’s room. “Right now there’s a very confused medical student sitting in there trying to figure out how exactly he’s supposed to get a history from RipVanWinkle, I figure he’d have more luck with you three.”

Cas moved first huffing softly quickly hurrying past the nurse seeming to forget the argument the second he was reminded of Jack.

Dean strolled slower behind the man still looking pissed off, leaving Sam alone in the corridor with the nurse who smiled at him expectantly.

“Right, sorry…” Sam unfroze and sheepishly followed.

Sam tried to look anywhere but at Jack when he entered the room, Castiel had automatically taken a seat in a chair on the far side of the boy’s bed his coat and a thin blue hospital blanket thrown across the back of it like he’d been camping there all night.

Dean was leaning against the far wall arms crossed, staring down a terrified-looking Asian kid in a lab coat clutching a clipboard to his chest.

By the time Sam took a seat beside the door and the nurse followed behind him the room was far too crowded for comfort.

In a room full of people he didn’t want to lock eyes with the unconscious kid in the bed suddenly became the least daunting sight.

There was an abrasion on Jack’s brow bone and a long bruise trailing down to his chin, like he’d fallen and hit head something hard on the way down.

Sam wished he felt more.

Jack was a pale stranger of a teenage boy, upsetting but...

Sam wondered if he was walking alone down the hallway and looking into the rooms if he would have even been able to pick Jack out of the other faces in their beds.

Seeing Jack like this made him feel pity and sadness, but seeing the deep-seated fear and worry on Castiel’s face

Jack was supposed to be family

Guilt bloomed in Sam’s chest. The only memory that he could pull up was at will was that Jack liked goldfish when he was two. He tried to look closer at the boy on the bed, pluck at the strings of his heart.

He focused on how Jack’s breathing was a little too fast and shallow, the heart rate on the monitor a little too rapid…

The kid was hooked up to an IV and about six different sensors, some wires trailing down the neck of his hospital gown one clipped onto the middle finger of his left hand. The opposite wrist and hand were strapped in a temporary splint, like his face probably a casualty of the seizure the night before.

The thought made Sam wince.

God this was a joke.

Someone cleared their throat “I uh… hello…” Sam broke out of his self deprecating reverie.

It was the medical student in the lab coat, gripping his clipboard and still nervously eyeing Dean. He yanked his eyes away to focus on Castiel.

“Are these the um… brothers you were talking about?”

Castiel didn’t look up from where he was straightening the blankets over Jack’s chest.

“They’ll be able to give you the information on his father’s side that I couldn’t,” he muttered distractedly.

“Half-brothers,” Dean said cooly from his position by the wall, “and I’m right over here.”

The nurse whistled strolling over to the side of Jack’s bed and picking up his chart.

“If nothing else…” she read, “Jack… will get a healthy dose of machismo today.” She frowned at something on the chart before clipping it back over the end of the bed and stepping closer to the monitor.

“Try not to make the med student piss himself okay? Bringing the janitor in here would put the room capacity over code,” the nurse said squinting at it.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked her a little alarmed.

She gave him a smile no more sincere than her previous ones, but with worry and attempted comfort in the place of irritation.

“Don’t worry about it daddy dearest, nothing’s... changed.”

The way she said it didn’t seem all that positive when she immediately followed it up by leaving the room at a brisk pace.

They all stared after her awkwardly for a few seconds.

“A-about that history,” the med student said the tone of someone being forced to tell a joke at gunpoint.

Dean was still staring at guy though he looked more puzzled than threatening now. Dean had probably just been hungover in the first place and got the lab coat confused with the white wall when staring into empty space.

“Dude, I’m not going to eat you…”

The med student looked thoroughly unconvinced.

“Fine, you want history right?” Dean pulled one of the plastic chairs across the floor and leaned back against the wall, “ask away Kevin.”

The kid opened his mouth looking confused before glancing down at his name tag and turning red, “Right, um… your father?”

Dean turned to address his answer at Castiel. Castiel didn’t bother looking back.

“Died of a heart attack age 45, don’t know about his dad, grandma lives in Florida looking like she’s live to an ornery 105, anything else? I’m not here to hide anything” Dean shot the last sentence at Castiel before turning back to face Kevin.

The kid jumped.

“Y-yeah… your father’s heart attack, was it related to any pre-existing cardiac or pulmonary disease?”

Dean glanced up at Sam tilting his head befuddled.

“Heart and lung problems…” Sam huffed, “he didn’t have any I know of.”

“Yeah…” Dean looked down twirling his aviators in his hands, “he had high cholesterol, shitty bachelor’s diet and all that you know.”

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered, “yeah because that wasn’t his own choice or anything.”

“Bite me, Sam.” Dean grinned at him leaning back in his chair again.

“If you’re not going to be helpful then leave,” Castiel barked suddenly shooting both brothers a steely look.

The door slid open again and nurse Masters re-entered with her hands full.

"I leave for two minutes and you' start the orgy without me,” she dropped her armload of supplies down on the rolling table at the end of the bed and got to work.

“Listen I can and will use the skills I've gained changing the sheets of three hundred pound men solo to kick your asses out of here so behave…" she warned.

Castiel was quickly distracted hovering over her every movement around Jack.

Sam and Dean's faces mirrored mild shock.

"Did she just threaten us?" Dean said nonplussed plunking his chair back on four legs.

"I think so," Sam blinked.

"Can she do that? Like legally?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes, "I don't think she cares…"

Nurse Masters finished fitting a nasal cannula around Jack's face, marked down something on his chart, and left again flashing one last patent murder grin.

“Thanks…” the med student squeaked after her, quickly looking back to his clipboard when he realized everyone was staring.

“So um… is there anyone with a history of epilepsy in your family…” Kevin said not daring to look up again.

“Nope,” Dean sighed, distantly pissed again.

“Autoimmune disease?”

“Sam?” Dean said looked at him expectantly.

“No…” Sam sighed going to look through his emails on his phone, feeling more out of place by the second. He cleaned out his inbox to the tune of Dean’s repeated “no’s”

"Diabetes?"

"Nope," Dean yawned

Kevin tapped his clipboard with his pen, "Cancer?"

“Actually we did have a second cousin who’s died of cancer,”

“Oh?” Kevin’s head tilted up almost seeming relieved.

“Lung cancer, she smoked like three packs a day and worked in an asbestos factory,” Dean blinked and giving him a weird look.

“Oh…” Kevin trailed off.

“Cas?” a feeble voice broke the monotony.

Sam fumbled and almost dropped his phone, looking up.

Jack was waking up. The blanket shuffled slightly and he coughed hoarsely.

Castiel jumped and went almost immediately to hover over him.

The kid's eyes were half open glancing lazily around at the ceiling and Castiel like they weren't quite taking everything in.

"Jack?" Castiel asked voice quivered, "Jack I'm right here…"

The boy blinked dazedly reaching an exploratory hand up to feel the tube on his face tugging a little on the iv in his arm in the process. He blinked blearily at it for a moment and then his eyes snapped open breathing speeding up fearfully.

"Jack are you okay? hey hey, Jack… look at me…" Castiel said carefully laying a hand on his shoulder, "you're in the hospital."

Jack went stiff in his bed arms held awkwardly in front of him hovering over his chest like he was scared to move and accidentally yank on something important.

"No… no I…" he breathed looking around panicked, wincing, his eyes caught sight on the splint on his arm.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled giving another hacking cough and tearing up, "did I… did I get in a fight? I'm sorry, please don't ground me…"

He didn’t even seem to notice Sam or Dean in the room.

"No Jack you're not in trouble you didn't do anything," Castiel quickly reassured him with a soft smile, "you… fell Jack…" his voice cracked.

Something in Sam’s stomach squirmed like he was invading something incredibly personal and private.

Castiel took a steadying breath that came out almost as shakily as Jack’s."Y-you had a seizure, Jack…"

The teenager’s eyes widened.

“Do you… do you remember anything about what happened?” Cas reached out to gently relax Jack’s arms back on top of his blanket.

“M-my head hurt… I…” Jack’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I felt… weird, I went to the bathroom…” he trailed off.

Cas smiled sadly, “you did, and you locked the door…” he gently held the boy's non-splinted hand, “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

Dean must have felt as out of place as Sam did because at that point with barely a sound he got up face unreadable and left the room.

Jack finally noticed his older siblings then roaming glazed eyes landing bewildered on Dean’s retreating back before shifting to Sam.

Sam’s chest jumped and he opened his mouth searching for something to say but Jack looked quickly away as if burned before he could get anything out.

It hard for Sam to resist following Dean right out the door after that. Instead, Sam tried to busy himself on his phone drafting an email to his work that he’d be a day late flying back.

“No no, I…” Jack face screwed up and he coughed again much harsher than before into his free hand, “I can’t,” his breath came out in a wheezy huff between coughs.

The medical student Kevin came to the side of his bed and picked up the control pushing a button causing the back to come to a half seated position.

It seemed to help because the coughing eased after a few moments and Jack was finally able to finish his sentence.

He cleared his throat, his pale face stained pink from the stress of the attack, “I… I can’t be in the hospital… we need to go home… I need to feed F-felix.”

"Felix? Did Jack have a dog or something," Sam thought.

Castiel comforted him gently, “Jack you fed him before we left, it’ll be at least another week before you feed him again.”

“Ah so… definitely not a dog then…”

“M-maybe you could bring him here?” Jack looked up at him hopefully.

Castiel blinked it was his turn to look confused, “Jack I don’t think they let pets in the hospital.”

“I… I’ve got school tomorrow…” Jack muttered conversation changing mid-stride looking unfocused past Castiel, “we… we have to go back.”

“Jack, you’re in the hospital I think they’ll understand,” Castiel shot the medical student a worried look.

“He’s um… they have him on morphine for the arm, he might be a little… confused?” Kevin explained looking a little unsure himself.

“Mr. Edlund hates me…” Jack muttered trying to push himself weakly up in bed, “he’ll fail me.”

Castiel sighed, placing a hand on his chest, “well then it’s good that I work at your school, I’ll just have to talk Chuck out of that okay?”

Jack seemed appeased by that and relaxed back against his pillows.

“I actually needed to ask Jack a few questions for the form,” Kevin said after a moment awkwardly clicking his pen.

Sam’s eyebrow rose, Castiel shot Kevin a look.

Kevin cleared his throat suddenly studying his clipboard like it held the secrets of the universe, “Um have you recently taken any drugs, Jack?”

Jack hunched up defensively giving Kevin a suspicious look, “Yes… but you gave them to me…”

“Okay,” Castiel broke in aggravated, “maybe now… isn’t the best time for that?”

“P-please don’t,” Jack cleared his throat, “call the c-cops…” he took a shaky breath and launched into another fit of coughing.

Castiel gently patted the boy's back as he curled in on himself coughing into his hands Castiel’s expression quickly turning to one of alarm as the coughing was broken up by almost choking gasps.

“Sh-should we call someone?” Sam asked nervousness sinking into his stomach. Kevin opened his mouth unsure.

It took a minute for the coughing to gradually ease, Jack’s face red and eyes watering as he shakily regained his breath…

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, the hand not on Jack’s back gripping the bed rail like a lifeline.

Jack was squinting befuddled into his hand, “I… I think I coughed up a lung…” he mumbled before raising his hand for all to see, “look…”

The medical student turned dead white fumbling around for the call button.

Jack’s palm was coated in blood.

[blood-and-cigars]

fic summary: walter and alucard first meeting after integra finds him

Walter had given up smoking years ago— it wasn’t appropriate for a butler running such a large (not to mention volatile) household to sneak off for cigarette breaks.

He’d turned his back on a gala once, back when Arthur still arranged such things. He’d gone outside no more than five minutes, only to return to a small kitchen fire. Over his many years if he’d learned one thing, it was that without a watchful eye, some catastrophe would always find a way to rear its head.

But there were some days, this entire week rather, that just begged for a cigarette, so he’d allowed himself the concession. Of course he’d already set the fire himself this time around.

So there he was in the gardens, leaning against the walls of a tool shed. He inhaled the smoke on a long shuddering breath all the while resenting how much he’d missed it.

He’d felt the difference the moment the car had driven up to the grounds, before he’d even gotten out. The miasma clinging to the air, the choking draw that was the vampire’s presence.

Of course he felt the change in the air just now too, he simply chose to ignore it, chose to enjoy the sunlight, the summer breeze in the air, and his first cigarette in decades.

“The Angel of Death, it’s been too long.”

Through some stroke of luck, he hadn’t crossed paths with Alucard until then, and whatever benevolent higher power had put off this conversation had also kept him from flinching at the sound of that voice.

“I’m afraid the name’s not very applicable anymore,” he said, and somehow his voice was pleasant, relaxed. “I’m not very angelic or deadly at the moment.” He exhaled in a puff of smoke, and he was sure there was something unnatural about how it stayed frozen in the air, before finally dissolving. He realized, the wind had died completely, everything was still.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again, Walter.”

In his periphery, he could make out a red blur, only barely within his field of vision. He didn’t turn to see, however. That would be weakness, that would be playing into Alucard’s games. “You must be bitterly disappointed.”

He looked out on the carefully divided garden plots, the flowers were already beginning to wilt. Given a few more days, they would wither. He hadn’t checked on the vegetables, but if memory served, they’d be hardier at first, but would soon follow suit without intervention. He’d have to notify the groundskeepers to be more attentive now.

Alucard was quiet for long enough that Walter was beginning to wonder if he just might leave. But there was movement then. He followed the trail of red, out of the corner of his eye, the way the vampire crept closer before circling around to face him in full view with the smooth, silent gait of a predator.

And now Walter refused to look away either; avert the eyes, or blink too fast and that’s a sign of weakness too. It was disorienting though, to see that face of his, from twenty years ago, not a day older. He remembered burying his hands in the fabric of that coat in far younger, rasher times. “It’s full daylight. What are you doing here?”

Alucard laughed, though his eyes were unreadable beneath the glasses. “The little miss has me keeping unorthodox hours.”

“How tedious.” Walter stifled a grimace. Of course Integra would feel ingratiated to the vampire that saved her. He wondered for an icy moment whether she had even thought to forbid him from disemboweling the staff.

“Not at all.” And there was that grin again, all tapered teeth. But before Walter even had time to register that, he continued. “I’m content with whatever suits my Master.”

He had been there when Arthur had sealed away the creature, wires ready, in case Alucard was tempted by any notions of noncompliance. It had turned out to be unnecessary anyway. Alucard had allowed himself to be bound without even a struggle, his red eyes overpoweringly bright in the small, dark cell— and impossibly mirthful.

Walter had cut a thin line across his cheek anyway, just to see if he’d respond at all. He hadn’t.

Once he had been fully bound (with a sickening crunch of bone as they pulled back his arms), once the wards had been set, and they had been about to leave; with his face still bleeding, Alucard began to laugh.

He laughed and laughed, and laughed.

They shut the cell door on him like that, but they could still hear his voice echoing through it, and though they never spoke of it later, after that, they ran.

Because despite Arthurs orders— despite the physical and magical bonds that confined him– they had no way to know if it was enough. Twenty years later, and Walter still couldn’t be certain. For all he knew, Alucard had stayed there for all that time simply because it amused him to let the humans pretend they could ever hold any power over him.

“Do you have a cigarette to spare?”

Walter blinked back to attention, biting down on his own hysterical laughter. “Certainly.” He fished out the package of cigarettes from his waistcoat. Yes, he’d quit smoking years ago, but he still bought a pack every few months, let it grow stale, then bought another one. Some things never leave a person.

He held out the pack and lighter towards him. Watched him take a cigarette with elegant fingers, raise it to his lips, and tilt his head waiting. Walter sighed, feeling entirely too old for whatever this was, and reached out to light it for him.

The proximity threatened to stir up unwelcome memories, it made him recall being very young, and very gullible. Instead he fixed his eyes on the crisscrossing scars around his fingers, where on occasion, the wires had cut through the protection of his gloves. He watched the spark of the lighter, when it caught flame. Yes, he knew he’d deliberately and obviously averted his gaze and that was weakness. He wasn’t sure he cared.

“Integra took me to see Arthur’s grave.” Alucard was staring at Walter over the rims of his glasses. His gaze was just as bloody and inscrutable as he remembered.

“Oh? Did you dance on it?”

“Of course not.” There was a softness to Alucard’s features sometimes, when he addressed him. Only years later had Walter recognized it as the patience reserved for small children. It was far more disconcerting to see that well of knowing pity directed at him so many years later. Alucard was so adept at feigning such things.

“Don’t tell me you wept into a handkerchief?” This was said lightly, like a joke. But whatever the mad relationship between Arthur and Alucard could even be called, it turned his stomach.

He was silent for a moment. Instead he responded with: “Where were you Walter?”

Ah, so that was the point of this awkward little reunion. He wanted information.

The words rolled off his tongue easily, because they were true. “South America. Arthur named me the executor, I was sorting through his affairs.”

“And you left the daughter with Richard?”

Walter shrugged. He put out his own cigarette, only half finished, just to give himself something to do. “I’m merely the butler. I don’t question orders.”

Alucard’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press the subject any further. “So you are. Have the years been kind to you then, Walter? Or do your bones creak with age?”

Somehow, his own expression did not falter. He didn’t even glare. “Kinder than they were to you, I’d imagine.” 

And with that he turned to leave. He’d idled long enough. It was time to get back to work.

[especially-heinous-ada]

Mankiller, Pt. 1

Hello, Tumblr world! It is with great pleasure that I finally unveil the first chapter of my brand spanking new Hannibal Au! Focused on Dr. Chilton and a mysterious female OC. I’m so excited to share my idea with you all, and I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the story begins...

As with all my other posts, please feel free to holler at me in the comments. I read them all, and always appreciate them! If you’re shy (I totally get it!) but still want to holler at me, hit up my asks as an anon. I love hearing your thoughts. Thank you to everyone for supporting my writing! Let me know if you enjoyed the first chapter and would like to read more.

Click, clack. Click, clack.

The hallway was as dark and quiet as it was empty. It had an almost eerie quality to it.

Drama queens. Always have to create ‘ambience.’ She scoffed as she drew ever-nearer to her destination.

Click, clack. Click, Clack. Her steps echoed through the halls as her stilettos struck the cold, stone tile. Her flowing dress billowed behind her as she moved swiftly, like a woman on a mission.

She reached the end of the hallway, where she pushed open a set of black double doors. They groaned loudly, announcing her arrival to the room’s occupants. At a massive, wooden table sat three men in suits.

“Hmph.” She pulled out a chair and slunk into it gracefully, alone at the far end of the table.

“Wouldn’t you rather come closer?” Called one of the men from across the table. “You look awfully lonely down there, Mankiller.” She rolled her eyes.

“I actually prefer being alone, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Frigid bitch.” He called back. The man seated in the center waved him down. His face was familiar. He was the one always present whenever she received an assignment. They called him Jay.

“We’ve done this song and dance plenty of times before, so I won’t bother with the pandering formalities. The government has utilized your…services…many times over the years. I understand, now, that you are looking to get out of the business? Slip into the darkness and not be bothered?”

She sighed loudly, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.

“That is what I told your boss, yes. So why exactly am I here?”

“Same reason as always. There’s a threat, and we need it eliminated.”

“Boring. And you can’t just order your lackeys to do it, becaaaause….?”

“He’s murdered everyone who’s tried. Anyone who comes close to discovering his identity mysteriously disappears, only to reappear with pieces missing. So they’re bringing in the big guns for one last mission.”

She sat up straight in her chair, uncrossing her legs. He’d piqued her interest—it was obvious by her reaction. Now that he had her attention, he continued.

“These pieces… they’re internal organs, mostly. Not just a foot, or an arm—and not just a simple disemboweling where he takes everything out. No. He’s taking the time and effort to cut them open and remove certain, particular pieces.”

“You’re thinking he’s a cannibal.”

“Precisely. He’s operating out of a very specific region. He never goes too far, so he must be rooted in the community somewhere. There’s an FBI investigator on the case, but they can’t seem to crack it.”

“Oh, no. How shocking!” She snarked. Jay ignored her, used to the attitude by now.

“They’ve got a special detective working with them—some weirdo named Will Graham. He’s given some good insight, but we don’t have any solid leads, so they’re just ideas floating around in space.” He slid a file across the table.

“Every lead turns out to be a dead end, so they have no idea of his true identity. That’s where the legendary Mankiller comes in.”

“You want me to figure out who he is, then eliminate him.”

“Precisely.” She raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at the file, not bothering to open it.

“This freak got a name?”

“They’re calling him the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“A bit melodramatic.”

“You haven’t seen the crime scene photos. He’s causing mass hysteria.”

She scoffed.

“What do you say, Mankiller? One last mission?”

“If I do this, will you finally leave me alone? I’m sick of playing cleanup crew after the government’s sloppy work.” She said caustically, folding her arms as she met his gaze.

“If you do this, you can have anything you want. Just name it.”

Some goddamn peace and quiet would be nice. She thought before standing.

“Fine. I’ll do it. You owe me big for this one. I expect a big, fat retirement bonus at the end of this.” She said, grabbing the file off the table before turning and sweeping out of the room.

Click, clack. Click, clack. She set off down the cold hallway once again, opening up the file to peruse its contents, looking for a starting point.

Where to begin? She thought, quickly thumbing through pages of documents. She stopped when she saw a picture stapled to the top of what appeared to be a psychiatric report.

“The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. That’s a mouthful.” She let out a single chuckle. The document purported to be an analyzation of the Chesapeake Ripper’s psychological condition. Uninterested in the pretentious psychobabble splayed across the pages, she continued to flip through to find the author.

“Dr. Frederick Chilton. Never heard of him…Why don’t I start by paying the good doctor a visit?” She suspected he knew more than he was letting on in his rather brief report. Snapping the file shut, she strode down the hall. As annoying as it was to deal with the government’s favorite meatheads, she had to admit: the Mankiller always felt best when on an assignment. The more dangerous, the better. She smiled, feeling the rush of the hunt return once more. It’d been almost a year since she’d taken an assignment and she’d nearly forgotten the thrill of it all.

“Look out, Ripper. Here I come.”

************************

-The Next Day- The Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane

As she stepped into the hospital, the Mankiller felt uneasy. She was never a fan of hospitals, or psychiatric wards. She suspected that if they could, Jay’s higher-ups might try to throw her in a place like this. Not that they could, of course. They needed her too much. Not to mention the fact that when they first started begging her to take assignments, she’d cleverly insisted they grant her immunity for all crimes—future, present and past. She smiled.

Sometimes, I even impress myself.

As she strode up to the front desk, she found two men conversing behind it. One wore a plan white dress shirt, no tie. He had plain, black hair buzzed short, and wore an unremarkable pair of plastic, black-rimmed glasses. A subordinate.

The other man was much more ostentatious, both in dress and manner. He wore an impressively stylish double-breasted suit, which she surmised must have cost a rather pretty penny. His hair was also dark, but longer, and gelled into a fashionable style. He wore a full beard, but it was meticulously groomed. It was obvious he cared very much about appearances.

Of the two, she deduced it would be most beneficial to approach the more flamboyant man. It was clear to her that he must be some sort of supervisor. That, combined with his overt attempts to appear attractive and successful made him a much easier target to manipulate, when compared to his subordinate, who’d be much too concerned about following rules or losing his minimum wage job.

“Hello.” She greeted pleasantly. The two kept talking, and she sighed. It looked like she was going to have to bring out the big guns. She leaned over the top of the desk, making her cleavage prominently visible, then cleared her throat.

“Excuse me, would one of you handsome men be able to help me?” She smiled. At that, the men turned to face her, finally breaking from their conversation. They seemed irritated at first, but quickly changed their tune after they had a moment to observe her.

“Certainly, I can help you with whatever you need; I am General Administrator of this facility.” The well-dressed man boasted, as predicted. “What can I do for you?”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Administrator.” The Mankiller smiled. “You see, I’m looking for someone here.”

“A doctor, or a patient?” The man asked curiously.

“Doctor.”

“Which doctor? Do you have an appointment?” The assistant butted in. The Administrator waved him down with an annoyed look.

“I’m looking for a Dr. Chilton?” The Administrator smiled spryly.

“Well, you’ve found him.” He replied, motioning to himself. “What did you need?”

“Actually, I’d really just like to speak to you, if that’s alright? Um, privately?” She was really laying it on thick now; giving the sexy voice, shooting him the steamy bedroom eyes, looking him up and down, the works. She was only partially acting; he was actually quite attractive, especially for a man in this line of work. She’d been expecting a grey-haired old fogey.  

His eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow rocketed upward to his forehead. He stuttered for a moment before managing a coherent response.

“Well, I don’t have any appointments scheduled until this afternoon… I suppose that would be alright. Follow me.”

Worked like a charm. Sure, seducing men with some cleavage and eye batting was cliché, but it was that way for a reason—it worked. Every. Damn. Time. Dr. Chilton should be thankful that he’s not my target, or he’d have just signed his own death warrant...with his penis.

She found the thought amusing and stifled a chuckle as Dr. Chilton stopped in front of a black wooden door with gold accents. He reached in his pocket to pull out his key and unlocked it, swinging it open and motioning for her to go inside. She thanked him and stepped in in front of him. He followed, carefully closing the door behind them.

“Feel free to have a seat wherever you’d—oh.” He’d turned to find her sitting, with her legs crossed, on top of his desk.

“Sorry, is this inappropriate?” She smiled salaciously.

“Perhaps. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, if you won’t.” He winked.

I’ve got him now. She scooted back on his desk, dangling her legs off the side, and threw her head back, letting him look her over without being watched.

“What exactly are you here for?” Dr. Chilton asked, approaching the mysterious woman. She looked so sensual sitting there on top of his desk; her mere act of existing was turning him on. Why was she here? How did she know him? Was she a fan? Did he even have fans? If he did, he hoped they all looked like this.

Her long, tanned legs dangled off the edge of his desk, crossed delicately. On her feet were a pair of black stilettos whose heels looked positively deadly. Her dress was rather short and exposed the majority of her perfect legs. If it rode up any further, not much would be left to the imagination. The flowy fabric clung to all the right places, accentuating her ample curves. It took all the strength he had within him simply to prevent himself from displaying his arousal as she turned her gaze upon him.

“I’m here because I need you.” She responded, sounding purposely suggestive.

“Need me for what?” Chilton pressed, swallowing hard.

“I think you can figure that out.” She winked.

“…But you didn’t even know what I looked like when you showed up.” He said, frowning. Damn, he’s got me there.

“I…need some information.”

“About?”

“The Chesapeake Ripper.” She admitted, deciding to be direct. He scoffed.

“After the last person came knocking about the Ripper, I elect to pretend he doesn’t exist with new callers.” Maybe he wasn’t as much of a pushover as she’d originally thought. This might require her to fight dirty.

“Fair enough. If you don’t want to talk, well…I came here to pick your brain, but once I got a look at the rest of you…I knew I wanted to play with more than just your mind.” She stood, drawing closer to him. As she grew nearer, Chilton found himself holding his breath. It was like seeing a majestic, mythical creature up close.  

She grabbed him by his suit jacket and backed up, returning to the desk and bringing him with her. She sat down on the edge of the desk once more, legs spread, pulling his full body against her. One hand left his jacket and pulled him in by his tie. She pressed her lips against his.

Oh, my god. Am I dreaming? Chilton wondered to himself. Indeed, he’d had dreams like this before, but this was much too real. He could smell the sweetness of her perfume, like cotton candy. He could feel the softness of her mouth, the warmth of her body pressed against him. He kissed back fervently. If this was a dream, he hoped he’d never wake up.

Oh, my god. She thought as Chilton began to kiss her back. He’s actually a really good kisser. She hadn’t counted on that. She felt him raise his hand, intertwining his fingers with her hair.

Holy shit. This is actually really hot…but I’m on a mission, she reasoned.

She felt herself moan into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Well, I suppose there’s no harm in having a little fun?

She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her chest against him, arousing a small groan from him. He leaned forward into her, pushing her back onto the desk. She threw caution to the wind and let her hands roam over his body, exploring him, when suddenly his intercom buzzed.

She came back to her senses, pulling away from his kisses. She glanced up from his lips to his eyes. They were a beautiful green-tinted hazel, and she found herself wishing she hadn’t noticed as she averted her gaze.  

“As fun as this has been, I have to go. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” She said, sliding off the desk from underneath him, thoroughly embarrassed at her lapse in focus. She made toward the door, wanting to escape as quickly as possible.

“Wait!” Chilton called after her, wincing to himself after he did. Was he making this decision with the head on his shoulders, or the one she had just so thoroughly excited? She froze just before reaching the door, turning to face him. She wore a blank expression, hiding her feelings—not wanting to let her guard down again.

“If you go to dinner with me, I’ll tell you everything I know about the Ripper.” A tiny little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before disappearing so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Deal.” She responded. “I’ll call you to make arrangements.”

“You don’t know my number.”

“I’ll call here.”

“How will I know it’s you, and I should answer? I don’t even know your name.” He reasoned.

“Uh, Sylvia.” She answered, feeling flustered. “I really do have to go now.” She lied, pushing the door open and power-walking down the hall.

What the hell was that?!?! She screamed internally.

In all her years as an assassin, never once had she felt even an inkling of emotion for a man she’d seduced on the job. Now here was this smug doctor, making her heart pitter patter like she was a virginal schoolgirl. He’d even gotten her flustered enough to blurt out her real name. She hadn’t answered to anything other than Mankiller in years, and that was how she liked it; she’d erased any trace of her real identity long ago.

Perhaps this last assignment would be more difficult than anticipated, she feared as she began to wonder how she should handle her next encounter with Dr. Chilton. Perhaps this time, she’d bitten off more than even she could chew.

Back in his office, Dr. Chilton sighed heavily before answering the intercom’s sixth buzz.

“What is it, Johnathan? This better be good.”

“Sir, Jack Crawford is here to see you, and he brought Will Graham.” With a groan, he pressed the intercom button once more to respond.

“Send them in.”

As Sylvia hurried toward he hospital exit, she happened to notice a familiar face.

Oh, no. What’s he doing here? She tried to hide her face, but there was no denying he’d seen her. Why the hell was Jack Crawford here? At this precise moment?

“Well, well. What brings you here?” He said suspiciously. Jack was one of only a handful of men alive today who knew the Mankiller’s true identity.

“I assure you, Jack, it is absolutely none of your business.” Sylvia smiled pleasantly, though she allowed her irritation to seep into her words as a warning. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

“Dr. Chilton will see you now.” The assistant from earlier announced. Jack closed his mouth in a frown before walking away, electing not to say anything at all. Sylvia smirked as she made her exit, though she knew she hadn’t seen the last of Jack Crawford.

I’ve only been here one day, and yet, what a web I’ve spun for myself. This is shaping up to be my most entertaining assignment yet.

[raendown]

Dun dun DUNNNNNN.

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3491 Story summary: Madara used to be a man feared even by those of his own clan. Life's really changed since the village was built. Among those changes is his relationship with one Senju Tobirama - and apparently everyone else knew about this even before he did.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Chapter 12

Big brothers the world over would agree that there were certain perks to being the older child. Personally, Madara’s favorite perk was the ability to end arguments by throwing around his weight as clan Head and telling the younger man that he knew better because he’d been born first.

Such was the case today. At first he’d been lost as to what he was supposed to do with a meeting scheduled for midmorning and four kids plus his own running around the house. As important figures in the founding of their village, it was expected that both he and Tobirama would be present at the meeting to greet representatives from a distant clan who were considering joining them in their mission towards peace. The situation had seemed impossible until Tobirama asked what his brother was doing.

Izuna wasn’t exactly happy to have four children and a baby dumped in his lap without warning. He’d squawked about ruined plans and yelled that they couldn’t just keep throwing Kagami in his face whenever they felt like it. Madara blatantly ignored him, relieved that he hadn’t seemed to realize yet why they had left Kagami with him in such a hurry the first time – and hoping that he never did. When he turned to leave Izuna was holding the baby and trying to fend off a little boy with one foot while two girls wrapped themselves around the others. The oldest, nine year old Tsutomu, had already wandered away towards the bookshelf.

As a parting shot, Madara took great glee in cutting through Izuna’s protest by casually mentioning that surely Touka would be impressed to see how responsible he was, able to take care of so many young lives at once. By the time he stepped out the front door he could hear his brother cheerfully asking what they all wanted for a snack.

Knowing that their son and other temporary wards were in at least non-deadly hands, both Madara and Tobirama allowed themselves to focus solely on the meeting as they arrived to greet their guests. The four shinobi before them were from the Takamasa clan to the east. As a gesture of good will they had instructed their guards and retainers to go enjoy themselves in the marketplace or perhaps at the training grounds to prove that they truly wished to become a part of the village they were petitioning to mesh with.  

Things went rather smoothly at first. While the Takamasa clan did not have any unique kekkei genkai like most of the clans gathering in Konohagakure seemed to, they were rather well known for their skill with pole arms, especially the yari, and such talents would be more than welcome here. Madara could already see Tobirama’s brain whirring from where he was sitting and he knew the younger man would be coming up with ways to integrate this new style of battle tactics in to the curriculum for the academy he kept dreaming about or how best to add them in to the already diverse mission roster. His love never did stop thinking for very long when there was new information to be processed.

It was the fact that he was already staring that allowed Madara to be the only one to see Tobirama’s initial reaction. One moment he was calm, considering, entirely focused on the meeting as he should be. The next his eyes had blown wide and his expression had gone from placid to hard as iron. Before anyone else even noticed anything amiss Tobirama had brought his hands together and disappeared from existence. Although Madara could not have properly described how he could tell the difference between the two, he knew his partner had used his hiraishin jutsu instead of the more common body flicker.

Dread blossomed in the pit of Madara’s stomach but he didn’t exactly have much time to let the feeling settle or even wonder where Tobirama had gone. Almost the very next instant every head in the room turned as a staggering wave of killing intent rolled across the village.

“Tobirama…” Hashirama’s voice was filled with the same mixture of shock and fear that Madara could feel rising with the dread in his belly. They met each other’s eyes across the room briefly, immediately coming to a silent agreement. On the other side of the room their guests were beginning to panic and Hashirama stepped up to reassure them that everything was fine as Madara brought his hands together. He couldn’t use hiraishin but a body flicker was just as good while they were contained within the village limits.

Pinpointing where the enormous flaring chakra signature was coming from was the difficult bit. At first he thought it might have been coming from home but when he arrived the house was empty. Yet, it still felt as though he were standing in the center of the maelstrom and the only other thing Madara could think of was Izuna, whose home lay only a few streets away.

He was there with barely another thought, battle instinct taking over and carrying him across the room to take Kagami from his partner’s clone before he had even stopped to take in the entirety of the scene around him.

Tobirama was…there were no words for it. Madara had never seen him like this. The massive amount of killing intent was coming entirely from him, though something this heavy should have taken an entire squadron to produce. His red eyes were wide, wild, and even his body language spoke of something nearly animalistic in its rage. The expression on his face was twisted in to a rictus of such anger and violation that he seemed like another person entirely.

Madara couldn’t stop staring, enraptured.

The clone beside him shifted its stance, including him in the area of protection it had set around the children all huddled in to one corner. Madara checked to make sure Kagami was unharmed, glanced back to be sure of the other children as well, then turned his head forward again and watched in unbridled awe as Tobirama decimated the team of foreign ninja filling the house.

He had no idea where these men had come from and for the moment he didn’t care. What mattered was the sprayed of blood from one man’s neck which Tobirama managed to angle perfectly so that it missed the children, or the kunai which Tobirama sent flying only to flicker forward and catch in the next second so that he could plunge it in to a woman’s heart himself. Madara was riveted by the succinctness of his lover’s movements and the way not a single motion was wasted. Every twitch of every limb had a deadly purpose: to annihilate the ones who had threatened those under his care.

When it was over Tobirama stood alone in the center of the living room, blood dripping from both the weapons hands and splattered down his front. Nearly a dozen bodies lay scattered about the room in various states of disembowelment and above them Tobirama looked like a cross between triumphant warrior and bloodthirsty animal, barely sated. There was an untamed fire in his eye and thrumming energy running frantic beneath his skin when he strode across the room towards Madara. The clone turned aside, kneeling down to speak to the other children in quiet tones.

“Kagami.” Tobirama’s voice was rough, hands shedding their weapons and already reaching out as he approached. Madara let him take the child without protest.

“What happened?” he demanded.

At first Tobirama did not answer. He pulled his son tight to his chest, buried his face in soft black curls, and closed his eyes. For a few moments he simply stood still and breathed and Madara realized he was trying to anchor himself, bring himself back down from the battle high. And what a battle high it had been.

“Tobirama,” Madara whispered gently. “He’s safe now.”

“He wasn’t.”

“He is now. Thanks to you.” Reaching one hand out slowly, he threaded his fingers through his love’s hair and passed a thumb across his temple to catch a falling droplet of brilliant red.

When Tobirama lifted his head Kagami had been left with a smear of blood across one cheek, which he very carefully wiped away. Madara looked on with his heart fluttering inside his chest.

“What happened?” he asked again. Before his partner could answer, however, something else occurred to him. “Where is Izuna?’

As though in answer, the door swung open almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. Izuna strolled inside as casually as though he’d been out for a simple Sunday stroll, head turned to speak over his shoulder.

“No it’s fine, I left Tsutomu in charge. Precocious kid, that one. Besides I was only gone for ten minutes, what could they possibly have…done…oh sweet mother of chakra…”

Just inside the doorway he paused, having stumbled over a piece of dismembered corpse. His head snapped forward to slowly look around and take in the state of his living room turned battle ground. Madara could see his throat bobbing in a horrified gulp all the way from where he stood at the opposite side of the room. When Izuna spotted Tobirama and the rekindling fire in his expression he backpedaled, only to have his retreat hindered when he bumped in to Touka who was coming in through the door behind him.

A low whistle escaped the Senju woman, managing to sound both impressed and wary. She took her time eyeing each body in turn as though grading them all on the violence of their method of death. Then she looked up to her cousin, saw the murder in his eyes, and promptly spun about to tiptoe towards the door.

“Stop.” Tobirama’s voice was a deadly whisper but it froze Touka in place. Madara accepted Kagami in to his arms again without question. Whatever the other had in mind for Izuna was surely too good for him. How dare he place their son in such danger? How dare he be so neglectful? “Where. Were. You.”

“I was only gone for, like, ten minutes and–”

“That was not my question,” Tobirama cut him off with a snarl. “I asked you where you were, Uchiha.”

The softness of his footsteps was in direct contrast to the hardness in his face as he slowly prowled across the room towards his prey. Izuna shivered but stood strong in the face of impending death.

“I thought that Lady Touka might wish to come see the adorable drawings the kids were making so I left Tsutomu in charge and went to invite her over.”

“You left my child vulnerable to attack so you could go make calf eyes at my cousin.” Each word was the crack of a whip, ice cold and sharp, and Madara was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to find that attractive. He did anyway.

“How was I supposed to know there’d be an attack?”

“And when you felt my response, as I’m certain you must have, you didn’t think to come back and see what might have caused it?” Izuna gave a helpless shrug, just a touch too flippant for the seriousness of the situation.

“I dunno I figured you two were fighting or something. Look, it’s not my fault okay?”

When Tobirama’s hand flashed through the air, Madara’s heart stopped for a single moment. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air and even an Inuzuka would not have noticed just a few more droplets if they were to come seeping out of his brother’s throat. He calmed again, however, when he saw the way Izuna’s head jerked ever so slightly to one side and the absolutely dumbfounded expression on his face.

Livid as he was, Tobirama didn’t even wait for Izuna to figure out how the hell to react to what had just happened. He simply turned and gestured to his clone, who began to herd the children outside, then looked questioningly at Madara. Of course, Madara had absolutely no intention of staying behind. He carefully picked his way around the corpses, absently drawing a kunai and sliding it down in to the throat of one who looked like he might have still been twitching. Deciding his brother could clean that up too, he left the kunai behind and followed along on the heels of his ragtag bunch of children.

One of the young Uchiha girls was crying quietly in to the shoulder of Tobirama’s clone and the younger boy was holding to his hand for dear life, eyes wide and staring. Tsutomu, on the other hand, was walking alongside the real Tobirama with stars in his eyes and a worshipful look on his face. Madara frowned at him and shooed him towards the others.

In an uncharacteristic display of restraint – which he was a little proud of, to be honest – Madara was able to wait until they all made it back home before asking any questions. Tobirama kept his clone and sent it in to Kagami’s bedroom with the four children they were supposed to be watching, instructing it to fetch blankets and hot drinks and perhaps a cheerful story book to read. Then the two of them were free to retreat to their own room and carefully close the door behind them.

“So…you slapped him.” Madara winced as soon as he’d said it. Could he not think of a more tactful way to ask about it? Had he been born with an ounce of tact he would have been a dangerous man indeed. Luckily Tobirama simply snorted and crossed his arms.

“Would you have preferred me to bleed him like a stuck pig?”

“He would have deserved it,” Madara growled. When Tobirama raised an eyebrow he flushed and waved a hand through the air as through trying to push his words aside. “Quiet, Senju. I’m allowed to be angry too. But I am curious; why did you only slap him? I would have expected something much more violent.”

“If I stabbed him he would learn nothing. Izuna and I’s history is fraught with violence; it’s something he almost expects from me at this point.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug which would almost have seemed casual but for the tension that lingered in them still. “So I hit him where it hurt instead. Perhaps he will remember being humiliated by a simple slap in front of Touka more so than a plain old punch in the nose.”

Madara turned that over in his mind a few times before a wolfish smile slowly took over his features. What an excellent idea. How lucky he was to be with someone so smart. And how lucky they both were that, as Izuna’s older brother, he knew all of the idiot’s weak spots and all the best ways to get under his skin. There were, as he’d been thinking only hours earlier, certain perks to being the eldest child. If Izuna thought that either of them were going to let the matter drop with a simple slap and leaving the clean up to him then he had another thing coming. No, this called for actions much more serious and if humiliation was the game they were playing he almost couldn’t wait to get started.

Any excuse to poke fun at his brother was a good one but revenge? Twice as sweet.

Nearly purring with approval, Madara shuffled forward until he was so close to Tobirama that his clothes began to soak in the blood drying on the younger man’s front. His partner huffed out an amused sound and wrapped both arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

“Why can I not stay angry around you?” Tobirama murmured in to his neck. “I wasn’t even angry at you.”

“Hmph. I should hope not. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“This time, perhaps.”

“Shut it!” Madara squirmed, growling when Tobirama only hugged him tighter. “Here I am trying to make you feel better and now you’re making fun of me! Rude! Boorish! See if I ever comfort you again!”

Despite the fact that he was sure he failed, Madara did make a concerted effort to hide the way he was suddenly melting on the inside when Tobirama began to laugh. Damn him for being able to produce such a heart-warming sound without any warning at all for the innocent bystander. No matter how he wriggled his lover refused to let him go until finally he gave up and grumbled as Tobirama graced him with a few kisses across one cheek that he pretended not to enjoy. Tobirama didn’t seem terribly fooled.

“Oh shush,” he said, moving his kisses to Madara’s lips.

“You shush.” It was slightly frustrating that he couldn’t cross his arms when they were already busy with six feet of pale Senju. He made do with a pout. Tobirama placed a delicate kiss on the tip of his protruding lip.

“We should go check on the kids. I get the feeling not all of them took their first exposure to battle as well as Tsutomu did.”

Madara narrowed his eyes and tightened his hold. “I think he enjoyed watching you a bit too much,” he growled.

“Please tell me you’re not jealous of a nine-year-old child.”

“I’m not jealous!” He protested hotly. “And even if I was it wouldn’t matter; he’s got no chance because you’re already mine. And no one else’s.”

Tobirama gave him that fond smile of his, edged with poorly contained laughter, and Madara drew breath to tell the man exactly what he thought about being laughed at for being nice and thoughtful. He paused before a single word could slip out, both of their heads turning at the sound of Hashirama’s voice from the front room.

He didn’t stay very long but it was an informative visit nonetheless. Both of them were pleased to know the reason behind the attack – and very pleased to be given a say in the perpetrators’ fates. It turned out that Hashirama had experienced his own bout of grumpiness when he discovered that the Takamasa clan had never had any true intentions of joining the peace of their village. They had come here with only one purpose: to take revenge upon the Uchiha clan by striking at their vulnerable youth. Evidently they had heard Madara speaking of his son and the others he often looked after and saw a golden opportunity. The guards they had ordered to tour the village as a ‘show of trust’ had in fact been under instructions to seek out the children and either kill or capture them.

Luckily for all present, Tobirama’s senses were always keenly focused on his loved ones. Panic was quite easy to sense even in the underdeveloped signature of a child.

After Hashirama left again Madara sighed and wrapped an arm around the tall man snuggling in to his side.

“We really should go check on the kids,” Tobirama murmured.

“Technically you’re already with them.”

“But you aren’t.” Tobirama snuggled in a little deeper. “They need you too.”

The very idea that someone needed him as anything other than a distant figurehead to take courage from was a foreign idea to Madara. When he thought about it, though, he found that he liked the idea. No one had needed him since Izuna had gotten old enough to wield his own blade and make his own mistakes in life. Did Tobirama need him too? Eyeing his lover, Madara wondered if he would be able to think of a way to ask which would be subtle enough to slip by his beloved genius.

“Come on.”

“Should we bring snacks? More blankets? How do you do this?”

Panic slowly rose up in Madara as he realized he had no idea how to comfort someone who might be in shock from a traumatic event. Did he have to be soft? He wasn’t sure he could be soft enough. People always told him he was too loud; was that a bad thing?

Tobirama was biting his lower lip as he sat up and took Madara’s hand in his own.

“You’ll be fine,” was all he said before hauling the both of them up off the couch.

As he followed his partner down the hall, Madara tightened his fingers around the hand holding his own. He carefully filed away the interesting images of a blood-dripping Tobirama to bring back up later, after they had made sure all the kids were fine. For now he was going to have to give all of his concentration to the little people waiting in Kagami’s bedroom.

He had no idea what to do when they got there, of course, but if Tobirama had faith that he would be fine then Madara figured he could believe it too. His partner had already taught him so much; this was just one more thing to learn.

[nautilusfirstmate-blog]

five times kissed ( ruffio~ )

send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed | status: selectively accepting

It certainly isn’t the first time he & Ruffio have hung out, but it was the first time their hanging out has been deemed as a date. Which had started out slightly awkward with the added expectation, but quickly delved back into their usual once they agreed that this really was nothing different than their usual; with, perhaps, the possibility for something more.

That ‘more’ being kissing.

Something that Liam found himself wanted to engage in not long after the flow of things returned to normal. The two glasses of wine running through his system probably had a hand in convincing him to go for it, too. & so he did, in the darkened corner booth the pair claimed at the Rabbit Hole, away from the small handful of other patrons.

Ruffio had just set her glass down, & Liam took the open opportunity, leaning across the small distance between them to press his lips to hers. What had started off as an intended short kiss turned into something much longer once Ruffio reciprocated, her hand curling around the back of his neck to keep him in place, her lips parting to deepen the kiss.

-----

It’s one of those rare afternoons Liam spends with Ruffio & the other Lost Boys; he tries not to interfere too much on her time with her brothers (they’re her family after all, & the Boys’ time together is as important as anything else in their lives), but once in a while she manages to convince him to join their fun, this time an afternoon at the beach.

As the evening starts to wind down & the levels of excitement from the Boys drop as well, more & more of Liam & Ruffio’s attention is on one another; it’s hard to not pay attention to the feisty brunette when she refuses to let him out of her embrace-- not that he’s complaining, of course.

They’re just talking, chests pressed together to ward off the growing chill. Liam thinks he sees one of the other Boys close by-- Curly, he’d have to guess, but he really couldn’t be certain-- & hears the click of what he’s come to recognize as the camera on Ruffio’s phone. She must hear it as well, because suddenly she’s threatening to disembowel Curly if he doesn’t return her phone & it’s all Liam can do to not start laughing.

Once she has the phone safely back in her hand, Liam draws her attention back to him and leans down to kiss her, the last of his laughter subsiding against her lips.

-----

It took some time, but his & Killian’s relationship finally found a steady ground (in truth, Ruffio had a lot to do with that); but that didn’t mean Liam had any intention of telling Killian everything about his life-- including his relationship with Ruffio. That decision started off as Liam wanted to keep his personal life private, something he’s always done, eventually growing into a sort of game for the pair, seeing how long they could go before Killian figured out there was something going on between them.

Though it did make things slightly annoying when there was some sort of get together at Killian & Emma’s place & both he & Ruffio were there. That didn’t seem to stop Ruffio, though. The Lost Boy forever in here taking the challenge to heart & finding any chance she could to touch him & sneak in a kiss without Killian’s knowledge.

Including following after Liam when he makes for a temporary escape upstairs, away from the houseful of people & high levels of activity that come with it. Assuring him that Killian thinks she’s just checking up on him & nothing else, Ruffio closes the bedroom door behind her & joins him on the edge of the bed. There’s only a short moment before Liam’s pulling her into a kiss, her presence helping his sense of overwhelmingness dissipate.

-----

Normally, sleep isn’t an issue for Liam. Rarely does it take him long to fall asleep, & nightmares haven’t been an issue for him since he was a kid. & never has it been difficult for him to fall asleep on the occasional night that he & Ruffio spend together, whether it’s at his place or hers. Tonight, however, Liam can’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how exhausted he’d been by the time they got into bed. He isn’t sure what’s keeping him awake, & it bothers him.

Carefully rolling onto his back so he doesn’t wake Ruffio, Liam stares at the ceiling. However, it doesn’t seem he was careful enough as Ruffio’s scratchy, sleepy voice fills the otherwise quiet bedroom, questioning what’s wrong. Assuring her that it’s nothing serious, the brunette turns & curls closer into his side, an arm & leg draping across his body as his arm wraps around her shoulders to pull her that much closer.

He can feel feather light kisses against his neck & shoulder, slowly making their way to his jaw as his head turns to meet Ruffio’s lips in a gentle kiss; a kiss that lingers as he relaxes further into the mattress, the first tendrils of sleep slowly, finally taking hold of him.

-----

Killian’s reaction to finding out that he & Ruffio were together was, perhaps, one of the best things Liam has ever witnessed in his life. Watching the pirate shift from confused to flabbergasted to impressed to annoyed to approving was certainly something else. & it seemed to leave Ruffio in a fit of laughter, which brought an amused smile to Liam’s face. Although their little game was now over, it was definitely a relief knowing he could now kiss Ruffio whenever he wanted, without having to worry about where Killian was at any time.

Like now, for instance.

Once Ruffio’s laughter subsided, Liam pulled the Lost Boy close & kissed her. If Killian happened to watch on with wide eyes, well, that would be a bonus.

[fancymuffinparty]

Kill Your Darlings

Rating: T-M; for graphic violent content

Pairing: Platonic Levi and Mikasa

Summary:  X-Men/Mutant AU. Mutants Levi and Mikasa cross paths, both seeking to escape dark forces.  (wolverine!Levi, x-23!Mikasa)

Word Count: 1682

A/N:  (Also posted on Archive of Our Own!) Originally intended for this to be a drabble of less than 500 words but I just had to expand on it a little more! Got carried away with the violence, but *shrugs*, ain’t like we’re not used to this kind of stuff. If you’ve seen Logan, you won’t be shocked like at all lol. I’ve seen Logan too many times already and it inspired me to write this piece featuring my faves; Humanity’s Strongest Pair. Hope you enjoy this random-as-hell crossover/x-men fusion one-shot!

“She’s like you… very much like you…”

The first time he sees her, she has just ripped a man’s head off, dual claws protruding from her fists.

He’s amazed that so much rage is embodied deep within such a small girl, her stature appearing deceptively fragile yet far more powerful than what meets the eye.

Only a few feet away, Levi watches in awe as he’s held back, subdued by metal restraints. The girl hastily pries a few bullets from her torso. A few have strayed onto her forearm, which she sucks out of her regenerative skin, blood now smearing around the corners of her mouth.

She’s… healing…

Like he can.

Suddenly, another adversary charges straight for her, nearly tackling her to the dirt-laden ground. She narrowly escapes his attack by dashing out of his reach and retaliates by thrusting her arms forward, the blades at her knuckles piercing into the man’s chest.

Levi propels himself back into the fight. In fitful rage, he releases his own claws and liberates himself from the restraints. There’s three claws on each hand in contrast to the girl’s twin blades. He swings both fists diagonally at the opposing men on each side, slicing their arms clean off. Blood flies in all directions, spurting from the lacerations, splattering onto his clothes and on the ground.

An enemy behind him attempts to subjugate his erratic evasion with electrifying chains, only to be eviscerated seconds later when they fail to inflict any damage on the raging mutant. Levi instantly heals from its shocking mechanism and lands a few serrated blows into the enemy’s midsection, guts spilling out.

Finished taking down his captors, Levi heeds the high-pitched shrieking emerging from the young girl. The desperate cry for help bellows from deep inside her lungs as she’s abruptly caught in a choke-hold, struggling against two men.

She resorts to ejecting the blades in her feet to counter the attack. She bluntly kicks forward, stabbing the man in his abdomen. His grip on her loosens as he falls to his knees, clutching at the wound in agony.

The young girl sets her sights to the second man, executing an aerial kick aimed directly for the jugular. Deep hues of crimson paint the ground when the claw in her foot connects with its target. His attempted defense is no match for her electric speed and agility, as quickly evidenced by the severed artery of his neck.

They’re still in this fight. Levi leaves his blades drawn, knowing full-well it’s never this easy.

Just as he’s predicted, more men come to encircle them.

Levi finds himself back to back with the young mutant, small incoherent growls succeeding the heaves of her chest.

Surrounded, they brace themselves for what’s to come.

He hadn’t meant to form this rather unconventional alliance with her, but Levi knows that if he wants to make it out alive, he’ll need all the help he can get. He’s been in similar situations plenty of times before, where he’d been forced to rely on his mutant powers and abilities to defend himself, but this time he knows the roots of it are much darker.

He knows why these men are after them. These men were sent by a sinister corporation; operating as a genetic research project to create weapons through the experimentation of mutant DNA. They essentially want to recall their property, for purposes that are all but for the good of mankind.

He’s been nicknamed the “Kuzuri,” but his name is Levi.

“X-23” is what they call her, but her name is Mikasa.

The merciless sun overhead beats down on them, its blinding array and blistering heat burning into exposed skin. One of the men fidgets, startling a foolhardy Mikasa on high alert. She swiftly reacts by leaping forward, pouncing on the man in a barbaric act of hatred-fueled aggression; the way a predator moves on its prey. She catapults her small frame ahead to the next man, hacking away in rapid succession until all that’s left are entrails and the shredded remains of his corpse.

Levi advances in strategic motions, reading his opponent’s moves like an open book. Striking one man in the eye with his left claws, and disemboweling another man with the claws sheathed in his right hand, he rotates his body around to confront the remaining foes. He keeps at it, utilizing his heightened reflexes and combat skills to put an end to this, not wanting to drag this out any longer than it needs to be.

Piling body upon body, Levi and Mikasa recommence their teamwork, taking on hostiles simultaneously. As Levi becomes occupied with one particularly malicious assailant, Mikasa hurls herself from Levi’s back, using it as a means to launch herself directly onto an additional enemy sporting a mask and protective gear unique to the guards working at the facility she was raised in.

One man abruptly unloads a machine gun amid all the chaos, shooting wildly at the raven-haired duo. Horrified to discover the bullets are useless on the pair of now healing mutants, he stumbles back and hysterically shouts expletives in despair.

He continues to shoot anyway, the shrieks gutting out from Mikasa and the grunts of pain from Levi sending the crazed shooter into a world of terror.

After enduring an excruciating barrage of bullets, Levi eventually reaches the man, seizing him by the midsection with his blades. He relishes in the dying man’s groans before putting him out of his misery, decapitating the trigger-happy bastard with a heavy-fisted hook.

There’s still a few hostiles left over, and Levi is hell-bent on eliminating them all. He pursues the matter fiercely, initiating hand to hand combat with one particularly skilled assailant. Mikasa jolts forward, sent into berserk rage after taking damage from a flying knife.

She somersaults into the air, ultimately landing atop her opponent’s shoulders, coiling her legs around them roughly. After drilling both claws into his skull, she back-flips off his shoulders, watching as he falls into a pool of his own blood.

The number of foes has drastically reduced and Levi finally prepares to confront the last man standing, with Mikasa positioning herself at his side.

Staring menacingly at the ultimate rival, Levi doesn’t bother wiping the blood off his blades before tearing away, like scissors cutting into paper. Mikasa only stands by and watches, unfazed by all the gore and bloodshed that’s surely obliterated her innocence.

The man forges a defensive maneuver, seeking to evade Levi’s wrath and ward off his attacks through a series of hastily implemented punches and kicks. Levi rapidly executes an unexpected uppercut, ramming his claws up the man’s jaw, finishing him off with a merciless slash to his vulnerable cranium. Blood spurts sporadically like ribbons and flows out of the wound like an engorged fountain.

It’s over.

All is quiet… all is still for what feels like an eternity.

Severed limbs and pools of blood are all that remain, the silence in the air plagued with nothing more than death and freshly torn flesh. The gravity of the situation has yet to behoove either of them, both still trying to catch their breath, relieved that it’s all over. Levi knows that the facility will send more men after them. They won’t give up until the elusive pair of mutants have been captured; until their property has been retrieved.

But he refuses to worry about that… for now.

In the meantime, there are far more pressing matters he must attend to.

This… kid being one of them.

He’s unsure what to make of her initially. From outward appearances, if one were to dismiss the blood stains all over her clothes, she seems to be an ordinary girl. An unshakable feeling overwhelms him when he comes to realize he knows exactly what she is. Who she is. She’s an exact replica of him, except of the female sort.

What are they supposed to do now? Where can they go?

One could say it was fate that brought them together, as though destiny had intervened to bring forth the promise of an attainable freedom from the hellish nightmare they’ve endured since their conception.

They are the last of the Ackermans, rare mutants, remnants of a time when heroes with special abilities walked the earth. The last of a dying breed.

Levi prides himself in living by one basic principle; to only look out for himself. He could just leave her, walk away, and pretend they never met. The same happened to him when he was her age. His uncle, the only guardian he’s ever had his whole life, left him after teaching him how to utilize his powers and fend for himself.

Being a lone wolf and drifting from place to place is all he knows, something he’s grown accustomed to.

But in spite of himself, he stops and pauses.

He curses into the thick air, telling himself he should just go, that she’s not his problem, that he doesn’t give a fuck what happens to her.

Except, the look on her face mirrors that of the one he imagines was etched on his own all those years ago when he was abandoned.

Like a neglected cub, she’s looking for guidance and shelter; from her own kind.

He lets out a sharp breath, nodding at her.

“Come on then.”

The command prompts her to trail behind him, her claws retracting back into her swollen, bruised fists.

She follows him without question.

Levi is aware they’ll be on the run for a while. They’ll constantly be looking over their shoulder, sleeping with one eye open, fighting when backed into a corner.

But at least now he has… purpose.

Gone are his miserable days of wandering around aimlessly, as if waiting to die and finally meet an unceremonious end. He used to believe immortality was a curse, that death was a merciful escape from this cruel world.

Levi has a reason to fight on. If not for himself, then for her. To ensure the survival of his newfound next of kin.

The wolf must protect his cub.