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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months ago

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The Kids Are All Right | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: recovering from an assault (heed this warning pls my loves), canon gore, canon violence, angst

Word Count: 4773

A/N: Heyyyy.... accidentally posted two at the same time haha. No episode this Saturday as a result; I'm sorry, y'all!! But a little extra treat today!!

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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You and Sam spoke almost twice daily after your heart-to-heart leaving Lincoln. You were incredibly grateful to still have his friendship; even if your phone calls had to be carefully maneuvered around times when Dean was in the room.

You were unsure how to feel about the fact that Sam was still trying to find ways to break Dean’s deal knowing he’d die if that happened but would also support your friend in whatever his decision was. You refused to have any involvement in picking between the lives of the two brothers, though, even if you were falling deeper and deeper in love with him with each passing day.

Just the thought of seeing him again was enough to have butterflies swirling in your stomach. You were terrified of what he’d say to you, yes, but you missed him so dearly. As chaotic as he could be at times, he truly was your rock. And with each day that passed, the sore pang in your heart at the thought of him seemed to intensify.

Not to mention, your struggle with your assault was draining you. Your heart hurt every time you walked past a mirror, and every once in a while, you’d see yourself in that guard uniform.

“Where are you guys?” you asked Sam through the phone as you walked around your motel room pulling clothes on.

“Cicero, Indiana,” Sam replied.

Your heart and stomach dropped. “What?”

“No way you’re here, too,” Sam began to laugh.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Sam! I purposefully picked a case that seemed like it wouldn’t pan out to stay away from him!” you replied frantically. “I mean, ‘guy falls on his own power saw’ doesn’t exactly scream unsolved mysteries!”

Sam was still laughing, but cleared his throat before talking again. “Yeah, but Dean’s cruisin’ for a hookup, too. That’s his main motivation, I think.”

You scoffed and ignored the burning feeling in your chest. “Of course, he is. Who is it this time?”

“Lisa Braeden. His… five day road trip from about eight years ago,” Sam explained.

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Gumby girl.”

“So you know of her,” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah! After one of the first times we had sex, he told me I gave Gumby Girl a run for her money. ‘Best sex of my life before you’ is a direct quote,” you told him.

“Okay, ew,” Sam grimaced. “I don’t need to hear about your sex life—”

“It was topically relevant, Sam!”

“—and this is apparently one of his ‘dying wishes’.”

“Way to let me down easy, jackass,” you sassed at the brunet’s clear inability to read the room in this situation.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. Let Dean have his fun,” you continued.

“No, don’t!” Sam begged. “At least stay till tomorrow so we can meet for coffee. I’m sure Dean ‘ll still be out with Gumby.”

“We should probably call that poor woman by her actual name,” you giggled. “But sure. I’ll stay till then.”

“Great!” You could practically hear Sam grinning on the other end of the phone. “I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Bye, Sammy.”

***

Someone pounding on your door at around one in the morning woke you up with a start. Swiftly, you put the barrel of your gun to the door and listened because there was no peephole for you to look through. You opened the door a crack when you heard nothing for a moment to reveal Dean staring at the ground before looking up at you.

Shocked, you slammed the door in his face and threw your gun at your bed. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to lock the door behind you, and Dean waltzed into your bedroom.

“(Y/N), you can’t leave,” the man told you.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean? How did you even find me?!” you cried. “What, you think after three weeks of not talking I’m just gonna let you— Especially after you just fucked Gumby Girl—!” You began pacing around the room.

“I didn’t fuck Gumby Girl, (Y/N),” he said softly, still standing close to the door.

You scoffed and crossed your arms, suddenly very aware of the underwear and oversized band t-shirt you wore to bed that night. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, still staring at the ground. His hands stayed in his leather jacket pockets. “Couldn’t bring myself to even try.”

You threw your arms out in frustration. “What, am I supposed to forgive you for not fucking one out of the many Sam’s been telling me about you being with since I left?!”

Dean seemed stunned.

“Yeah! So, I’m sorry, but you’re not just gonna waltz in here and act like everything’s fine and dandy,” you chortled coldly.

“Are you gonna give me a chance to explain myself?” he questioned angrily.

“Why should I?” you scoffed.

“Because you love me! I thought that was the whole point!” he argued.

You stared him down, eyebrows drawn together. “Well, you obviously don’t love or respect me enough not to go fuck random girls literal days after I leave.”

“I do!” he shot back. “Would you just fucking listen? I was drinking alone when Sam thought I was with those other chicks.”

You said nothing, still glaring at him.

“I didn’t fuck any of them, (Y/N), ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you!”

Tension hung thick in the air between the two of you, and you looked up at him with dewey eyes. When you couldn’t stand to hold his gaze anymore, you turned away. “Why didn’t you call? Why didn’t you… say it back? Say anything back?” Your voice broke while you talked.

“I should’ve,” Dean replied quietly. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left you guys with those demons.”

You felt Dean’s fingers gently graze your arm, and he waited for you to flinch away for a moment. When you didn’t, he reached out and gingerly turned you to face him and held you to his chest.

You melted into him almost immediately and let all of the emotion you’d been holding back for the past three weeks out. He rested his head on top of yours and just held you there for a minute.

“I can’t watch you die, Dean,” you told him, still hugging him tightly. “I can’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “Can you just… stick around till my time is up?” He gently pushed you away from him slightly to turn your eyes up to meet his gaze. “Please? It’s my dying wish.”

You giggled through your tears but nodded. You immediately dove back into his chest. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered.

“I don’t wanna leave you,” he said, voice beginning to shake. “But I couldn’t let ‘im die, (Y/N). I couldn’t do it.” “I know,” you nodded.

The two of you stood there holding each other once more until Dean spoke up again. “And, uh… ditto, by the way.”

“What?” you snorted, pulling away from him.

“What you said… at Bobby’s,” he explained, avoiding your eyes.

“You love me?” you asked, smiling lopsidedly.

Dean just nodded.

“And you told me just by saying ‘ditto’?” You burst out into laughter at Dean’s attempt at vulnerability.

Dean went red in the face and turned away.

“No, no!” you said, immediately quieting down. “It’s just— that was so cute. You’re adorable when you can’t emote properly.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, tilting your chin up to kiss you passionately and effectively silence your laughter. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck immediately; almost like a reflex.

When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against Dean’s.

“You know I’m not letting you leave again,” he said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled.

***

You sat on the bed facing a shirtless Dean who was reclining against the headboard on a pillow while he told you his story from yesterday. He lazily drew circles on your outermost hip with his thumb as he talked.

“So, I went to her house, right? ‘Cause… y’know. Gumby Girl,” he began sheepishly. “And, uh, turns out, she’s got a son.”

“Jesus, really?” you replied. “I forget most people have kids at our age.”

“See, this is where it gets interesting,” Dean continued. “So I go out to the backyard, and I see this kid, and (Y/N), I’m telling you, he looked just like me. Acted just like me, too. It felt like fuckin’ Freaky Friday.”

“Dean, don’t tell me—”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” he cut you off. “But no. Lisa said he’s not mine.”

“How do you know she’s not lying?” you asked. You finally processed the story Dean was telling you, and realization washed over you in tidal waves. “You could have a child. You might be his father. What the fuck.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said. “It’s freakin’ me out, man. But that’s not all.”

“Dean, if this involves a paternity test that names you as a match, I’m gonna start freakin’ out,” you said.

“No, no, it doesn’t. At least, not yet,” he chuckled.

You glared at him.

He laughed. “Anyway, I think there really is a case here. One of those kids at the party was weird.”

“Yeah, Dean, kids are weird. Any other earth-shattering news I should be aware of?” you snorted.

Dean deadpanned at you. “You know what I mean. She wasn’t standin’ all the way upright—”

“Maybe she just has scoliosis—” you cut in.

Dean kept talking over you. “—And she kept glaring at everybody—”

“—I glare at everybody—” you continued.

“—And it’s the kid whose dad fell on the power saw.”

You considered for a moment. “Okay, maybe there is something happening. But it could also just be how her grief is manifesting.”

“Yeah, but (Y/N), all kinds of freaky accidents have been happening all over the neighborhood,” Dean explained further. “People fallin’ off ladders, drowning in hot tubs—”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” you sighed.

“What’s your hold-up with all this?” he asked.

“Whaddya think, Dean,” you deadpanned.

“What, Lisa?” He seemed genuinely shocked.

“I just think we should leave this town in our rearview mirror. Y’know, between Gumby Girl and her kid that’s potentially yours— oh, god,” you muttered when you fully realized Dean might have a son.

“(Y/N), he’s probably not mine. I mean, she said he wasn’t,” Dean reminded you.

“Somehow, that’s not making me feel better,” you grumbled.

Dean pulled you down toward him and gently kissed your lips.

“Dean—” you tried, but he cut you off with another kiss. “Dean—” and he kissed you again, “—you can’t just—” another kiss, “distract me with this stuff—” another kiss, “—when we’re in the middle of a serious discussion.”

Dean kissed you once more and pulled you to straddle his hips. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Unfortunately,” you smiled against his lips.

When Dean tried to grind up into you, though, you suddenly jerked back from him.

He looked up at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, tears swimming in your eyes. “I— I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s—”

“It’s okay,” Dean assured you. “We don’t have to do anything. It’s alright.”

You laid down on Dean’s chest, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. Dean kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you to comfort you. Oh, how grateful you were to know him.

***

Later that day, you and Dean walked back to the Impala after investigating a few of the houses where accidents had happened recently. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; no cold spots, no EMF, nothing resembling a creature’s lair. It was all very “Stepford” in Dean’s opinion.

When you’d almost reached the car, Dean abruptly grabbed your arm. You gasped slightly and turned to face the direction he was.

“That’s him,” Dean whispered. “That’s the kid.”

You looked ahead at a little boy with spiky brown hair wearing a canvas jacket sitting sadly on a park bench.

Dean slid his hand down your arm to your hand and pulled you along with him. “Hey, Ben,” he told the kid.

The boy looked up at Dean. “Hey. You were at my party.” Ben seemed to notice you for the first time. “ ‘Sup?” the little guy nodded at you, attempting to smirk through his apparent sadness.

‘Jesus, this really might be Dean’s kid,’ you thought.

“I'm Dean, this is (Y/N),” he said, sitting down next to Ben on the bench. You stood next to Dean cautiously. “Everything okay? Something wrong?” Dean asked Ben, who didn’t respond.

You noticed the empty gaming console case Ben was holding and looked out to the field to see a group of four boys playing with something that looked just about the size to fit the case.

“Is that your game they're playing with?” the older Winchester asked Ben.

The little boy wouldn’t look at you or Dean. “Ryan Humphrey borrowed it, and now, he won't give it back.”

Dean was immediately ready to beat up eight-year-olds. “Well, you want me to go—”

“No!” Ben exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s arm. “Don't go over there! Only bitches send a grown-up.”

Dean grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

This whole interaction was completely flooring you; rendering you unable to add anything to the conversation.

“And I am not a bitch,” Ben finished.

Dean pointed to a boy wearing long cargo shorts holding the gaming console. “Is that Humphrey? The one that needs to lay off the burgers?”

The little boy smiled and nodded.

Dean hummed.

“Dean, what are you—”

He ignored you and turned to Ben to talk to him in a hushed voice. You couldn’t quite hear what Dean was telling him to do, and you were puzzled when Ben got up from the bench and started walking over to the group of boys.

“They’re gonna eat that poor kid alive, dude, what were you thinking?” you chastised him, shoving his shoulder lightly.

“Just watch,” Dean urged.

Ben turned back around to the two of you, and Dean offered him a thumbs-up and a grin.

A moment later, Ben turned away from the bullies before whipping back around and kicking the boy holding his game straight between his legs twice.

“Dean, what the fuck,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Ben walked back to you and Dean, triumphantly smiling and holding his game. “Thanks! Dude, that was awesome!”

Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stormed up to you, Dean, and Ben. “Benjamin Isaac Braeden! What has gotten into you?!”

“Gumby Girl,” you realized.

Dean smacked your thigh lightly to get you to be quiet.

“He stole my game!” Ben tried to explain.

“So you kick him? Since when is—” she looked down at Dean and scoffed. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”

“What?” Dean was still smiling. “Somebody had to teach him how to kick the bully in the nads.”

“Who asked you to teach him anything?” Lisa argued.

“You’re right, he’s sorry,” you said, trying to pull Dean away.

“What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don't know me. And you have no business with my son,” Lisa raged, grabbing Ben’s hand to walk off with him. “Just leave us alone.”

“He will!” you asserted, to both Lisa and Dean.

Ben broke out of his mother’s grip and ran back to Dean, wrapping his arms around his legs in a tight hug.

“Thanks,” Ben smiled up at Dean.

Your heart melted and broke at the sight.

As Ben returned to his mother, you saw three children a few yards beyond them standing in a straight line and turning their heads in tandem. Dean seemed to have noticed, too, and the two of you decided to get out of there as quickly as possible.

When you got into the Impala, you couldn’t say a word.

Dean looked over at you. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” you replied.

“You look like you’re suckin’ on a lemon. C’mon, talk to me,” he urged.

“He really does seem like your kid,” was all you could manage to say.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“And, uh, if that does end up being the case—”

“Whoa, what?” Dean cut you off. “Since when am I following up with that?”

You sighed. “I don’t know, Dean, if you are his father, the kid deserves to have you in his life.”

“Sweetheart, the best thing I can do for that kid is get the hell away from him,” Dean replied. “He doesn’t need to be anywhere near me or this life.”

“Why?” you said. “ ‘Cause you think you’d be bad at it? You were great with him today.— y'know, aside from encouraging assault.”

“Yeah, (Y/N), for two seconds,” he said. “Why are you pushing this anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, I thought it might just be good for you. Give you an opportunity to live out your last year in peace. Happy.”

Dean’s posture softened, and he said nothing for a moment. “Thanks, but no. I’d take you and huntin’ evil sons of bitches over Middle America any day.” He reached out to you and pulled you to him, placing a kiss to the side of your head.

***

When you arrived at the boys’ motel room, Sam was at his laptop researching.

“Somethin’s wrong with the kids in this town,” you told him as you took your jacket off.

Sam replied without looking away from his computer, “Yeah. Tell me about it. So, what do you know about changelings?”

“Evil monster babies?” Dean questioned.

“No, not babies,” you chimed in.

“They're kids,” Dean realized. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you're lunch’ kids?”

Sam nodded. “There's one at every victim's house.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” you mumbled.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“We got a pile of missing kids being kept in a hole somewhere and a fuckton of changelings we gotta torch. Dean, where’s your kerosene?”

“Already on it,” he said, leaving the room.

“So, I’m guessing you talked things out,” Sam said once the door closed behind Dean.

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled playfully.

“So… you’re not leaving?” Sam questioned.

“No. Not yet, anyway,” you said, tone becoming more serious. “I’ll be there to tell him ‘bye,’ but I won’t watch him get dragged to hell. I can’t do that, Sam.”

The younger Winchester paused. “I get it. Hopefully, we won’t have to.”

Dean came back into the room not a moment later holding his torch and grinning.

“You and your gadgets,” you laughed warmly.

“So, changelings can perfectly mimic children,” Sam began. “According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. Y'know, there were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood.”

“The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean questioned.

“I wish that were the case,” you said. “Changelings feed on the mom’s synovial fluid. Sam, did you notice any strange bruising on their backs? It’d be just below the base of their neck?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Sam asked you.

“It’s the typical spot they feed from,” you replied. “On the end of their creepy, face-hugger-from-Alien tongues, they have these little spines that extend through the body to reach all those spaces between the joints. Pretty gnarly injuries.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before mom finally croaks.”

“And then, there's dad and the babysitter,” Dean added, referencing two of the victims.

“Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead,” Sam finished.

“And fire’s the only way to kill ‘em,” you said, nodding at Dean’s torch. “See why I was worried about all this?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed. “Great.”

“According to lore, they stash the kids underground somewhere,” Sam continued, “I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there.”

“We better start looking,” Dean asserted, seeming to have something on his mind.

“What?” you asked.

He hesitated before answering you with a question. “Any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”

You nodded.

“We gotta make a stop. I wanna check on someone,” Dean told you, and you knew he meant Ben.

Dean held your gaze as Sam began to protest. “Well Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time. We—”

“We have to,” Dean stated firmly.

***

Throughout the drive to Lisa’s house, you tried your best to remain calm. You weren’t truly worried about the potential that Ben could’ve been kidnapped or by the fact that Dean was upset, it was the thought of Lisa and Ben potentially taking Dean away from you. You knew your fear was irrational and maybe even a bit toxic, but you still worried that maybe Dean was still attracted to Lisa. Or maybe Dean was Ben’s dad and would be obligated to see and spend time around the two of them. The thought nearly made you throw up while you watched Dean knock on Lisa’s door.

You saw Lisa yelling at him, and Dean ran back over to the Impala seeming incredibly worried. “They took Ben. He's changed,” Dean explained, hurriedly getting into the car.

“What?! Are you sure?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I'm sure. I checked his windowsill,” the older brother nodded.

“Blood?”

“I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are.”

***

Dean drove quickly toward a house under construction with a large mound of red dirt sitting on the lawn outside of it. The exterior of the home was almost finished, and the “For Sale” sign on the lawn was stained partially by the dirt.

“Red dirt,” Sam noted, bending down to inspect the sign. “That's what was on the window.”

“Ah, you take the front,” Dean told Sam. “(Y/N), take the left side; I got the other.”

You nodded and set off, gun and flashlight drawn. You crept around the corners of the house until you came to a set of doors angled down to a cellar. You jumped down into it and found small, empty cages lining the walls.

“What do you think you're doing?” a voice suddenly asked from behind you.

You looked up at the entrance of the cellar to see a redheaded woman glaring at you.

“You’re staying here until I can get the police here,” the woman said, pulling out her phone.

“Wait, wait,” you tried. “I’m sorry, I was just looking for a place to stay for the night.”

“Then why do you have a gun?” she hissed.

“Self-defense,” you replied coolly. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go.”

The redhead tsked and shook her head. “I don’t think you will.” She stood from the entrance to the cellar and closed both doors on you.

“Wait, no!” You rushed toward the doors, but it was too late. She had latched them shut by the time you got to them. Immediately, you started banging on the doors and trying to get them open. You turned around to one of the cages and picked it up, hurling it at the closed doors. You tried again and again, using the cage to hit the door, your shoulder to slam into it, and even tried using a piece of wire from the cage to take off the hinges, but nothing worked. Helplessly, you banged on the door and screamed for Sam and Dean.

Suddenly, you began to smell smoke.

‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought, breath quickening with urgency. You slammed your body into the doors as hard as you could manage.

Across the cellar from you, the flames began to catch the ceiling, creating a gaping hole in the floor for debris and fiery planks of wood to fall through. You slammed into the doors once more, screaming for Dean.

The smoke in the room began to fill your lungs and forced a cough out of you. You screamed Dean’s name again hoarsely, turning around briefly to see the fire had spread incredibly close to you. If you didn’t get out soon, the whole building would collapse on your head.

“Dean, please!” you screamed.

Suddenly, you heard the door to the cellar unlatching.

“(Y/N)?!”

“Dean!” you cried.

He threw the doors open and pulled you out of the smoldering building. He quickly checked you over for injuries, cupping the sides of your face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him around to the front of the house, running as fast as your legs would carry you as flames taunted you dangerously close to your face. You ran across the street to where Sam was standing with a crowd of terrified children and Ben.

“Sam!” you exclaimed. “Everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Sam replied.

Ben seemed shaken up, but he was trying to comfort the other kids around him. You smiled down at him. Dean was exactly the same way. No matter what was going on in his own head, he always checked on the needs of others first. It was one of the things you loved most about him; he was always showing you what compassion truly looked like.

***

When the fire department had come and the children— all except for one— had been returned home, you and the boys drove Ben back to Lisa’s house.

“Ben?!” the woman called, running out of the house. “Baby, are you okay?”

Ben ran to his mom and hugged her. “I'm okay, Mom.”

“Oh, my god,” Lisa sobbed. “What the hell just happened?”

“I'll explain everything if you want me to,” Dean started, “but, trust me, you probably don't. The important thing is that Ben's safe.”

“Thank you,” Lisa surged forward and hugged Dean. “Thank you.”

Dean seemed hesitant for which you were thankful, but still returned her hug.

Ben turned to head into his house, and Lisa moved to follow. She turned back to Dean apprehensively. “Do you— wanna come inside?” she asked.

“Uh, no thanks,” Dean replied. “We, uh, gotta hit the road.”

Lisa nodded, deflating slightly.

“But… you’re a hundred-percent sure Ben’s not mine, right?” Dean asked.

She nodded and smiled. “You're off the hook. I did a blood test when he was a baby.”

“Oh,” Dean replied. “Good.”

“I... I swear you look disappointed,” Lisa noted.

“Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know your life... I mean, this house and a kid…” he trailed off. “It's not my life. Never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh... Anyway, a guy in my situation— you start to think, y’know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

“I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but,” Lisa began, “he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot if you ask me.”

Dean nodded and turned back to you and his brother who stood by the car watching silently. “You know, just for the record…” He turned back to Lisa. “You got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad.”

Lisa smiled at him, as did you, before Dean headed back to the driver’s seat. For once, Sam let you sit in the passenger’s seat, and you popped a Faith No More cassette into the Impala’s built-in player.

***

A few hours into the drive, Sam had fallen asleep. You and Dean were left holding each other’s hand in silent support; a reassurance the other was there and okay.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? To Lisa?” you murmured.

“About what?”

“Leaving nothing behind except a car?” you continued.

“Aw, c’mon—” Dean sighed.

“No, Dean. That’s crap,” you quietly said. “You have a legacy. Everything you’ve ever done has been out of love and compassion. That is who you are. That’s what you’re leaving behind.”

Dean’s eyes flicked toward you, his expression unreadable. He was quite literally the only person to ever confuse your intuitive, watchful eye with his thoughtful, complicated expressions.

The older Winchester turned his eyes back to the road and brought your entwined hands to his lips, kissing the backs of your knuckles.

You reveled in the feeling, knowing the feeling of his lips on your skin in this moment, the pattern of Sam’s breathing steadily in the backseat, and the way his hand felt in yours would be a memory you’d need to hold onto when he was gone. Maybe that way, you’d be able to find peace; knowing that not even death could completely tear Dean away from you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

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literaryavenger · 11 months ago

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Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?"

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

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thetravelingtyper · 8 months ago

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On the same page...(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU) pt 1

After a disastrous breakup, you, an American author, escape to a little London bookstore with your best friend. However, when one patron takes a certain interest in you, you wonder if your story has been finished after all...

Part 2, Masterlist

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Nothing seems as pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

Smooth lyrics picked with a bass line and beats in on the radio, your ears perked up and catching the beginning of fluorescent adolescent you sighed. The song wasn't helping your down mood and you pick up your phone, ignoring the 10+ missed calls from your ex, and changed the song. After shuffling for a moment another piercing ring lit up your phone.

God leave me alone!

You sigh to yourself and toss your phone back on the counter of the bookstore as the door rings, announcing a customer. Your eyes flick to the door as a tall man enters. Lightly buzzed hair looks soft in the light and you catch yourself staring a little and he grins at you. You welcome him in and he nods then heads towards the history section. You watch how he carries himself. Strong and steady with a soldier's confidence. You think a little about it, the strength those arms carry before your phone rings again...

Your hand flies to your phone and you finally silence the poor thing, the buzzing remaining like a dying animal, a fit allusion to your past relationship. You remember the glittering smirks of the ladies and your fiance's grin, eyes shadowed with greed as you stood in a winning dress. The bastard ruined your image and your future with one moment, pulling the girl to him for a steaming kiss. Flashes of lights as the crowding press pushed past you and left you in the dark.

Glittering lights turned to stars as you left the gala alone, pushing the cheating bastard and your ‘friends’, truthfully venomous colleagues, to the back of your mind. You had gotten back home to your flat, packed everything you could, and kicked it to stay with a friend. You could imagine the headlines. “Downbeat author loses job and life!” You groan wipe a hand down your face and force yourself into the present.

You stand and shift your weight from foot to foot. It was a practice Sam had taught you when you both first moved out. His extended family was in the publishing business and owned a bookstore in London proper with an attached apartment on top. It was easy for him to steal his best friend away and across the pond for a new life chasing words through the drizzly streets of London.

Put yourself in the current moment, and learn to reset yourself if needed!

His warm voice rings in your ears and you smile, stretching and taking stock of the current moment. It was currently 5:36 on a Thursday, it was the middle of February so it was cold outside, currently not raining but cloudy. If you look you can see covered strangers pass back and forth outside the windows of the bookshop.

It had been a few months since you settled in but they were full of meeting Sam’s family and getting your writing career back on your feet. After the shame of the breakup, you had taken an extended break from writing. However restful for you, your manager was insistent on getting a book finished by the middle of the year, or year's end at worst. So you dutifully spent your time manning the bookshop and writing when you could bear to. But every time you opened that blank white screen you grimaced, seeing...

A large thunk on the counter makes you jump. Your eyes and mind darting back to the present.

“Aye sorry lass.” A thick Scottish voice apologizes and you catch first his smile, he's teasing.

You shake yourself out of it and reach over the counter to grab at his book, A History of Military Maneuvers.

“You certainly chose some dense reading material,” You quip at him as an easy smile lights up your face as well. You take the book and bag it, mentioning the price as he passes you a card.

“It's not too bad when you live it.” He explains simply. That would explain the physique.

“Did you serve?”

“I did once, not anymore. Took one too many and it put me on the sidelines. I found quieter work around the city.” He says it calmly but you catch his hand and rub his shoulder. It seems a sore spot for him. You think of your career back in the States and frown.

“I don’t blame you,” a hurt passes over your eyes. Your writer's brain latches onto his character. He seemed to enjoy part of his career, but you can see the injury in your mind's eye now, one moment normal then the next some career-ending injury.

“What do you do? I've seen you in the store before.” He brushes a hand through his hair a little ashamed.

You raise a brow,

“Been watching have you? I am an author back in the States for your information, Mr…?”

He grins at you and offers his hand across the counter,

“John, John MacTavish but my friends just call me Soap.”

You return his handshake. His hands are rough and completely engulf yours, a fact that makes your heart skip a beat at the realization.

His phone then rings and he pulls away from you to check it.

“I got to get this love, but it was nice finally putting a name to the face. I'll be seeing ye around.”

With that Soap takes the bag and makes his exit into the cold evening. With his departure, you feel your spirits lift. Maybe, you think flexing your hand, there is a story to be written after all.

#simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 2022 fanfic #ghost x reader #fanfiction #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #soap mactavish #soap and reader #slight soap mactavish x reader #On The Same Page

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mortalheartache · 11 months ago

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Bloody Love

Sam Monroe has a knife kink… and a blood kink. You give him what he needs. (Requested by @zapernz 🤍)

Tags: Smut, NO Y/N, blood play, knife play, sub!Sam, dom!reader, consumption of blood, degrading (slut, pathetic), use of “good boy”

Word Count: 0.62K

─── ⋆⋅ ☆ ⋅⋆ ───

Dragging the knife along his pale skin, you watched the little beads of blood appear in the knife’s wake. Sam squirmed under you, lowly whining.

“You wanted this, no? So shut up and take it.” You sneered at him, punctuating your words by increasing the pressure of the blade along his collarbone slightly. You reached your free hand down to his cock, not missing how it twitched as you dragged the knife further down his body.

You gave the base a little squeeze, and Sam moaned pathetically. Lifting the knife from his flesh, you removed your free hand from his throbbing dick and ran your fingers along the blood pooling along his collarbone, then brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking the blood off of them. He looked at you in surprise that quickly morphed into some fucked up kind of lust. His pupils were blown wide, and his chest heaving as he panted.

Smiling at him, you dipped down to lick the blood off of his body, twisting one of his nipples sharply then toying with the barbell through it. He cried out and squirmed further, but quickly stopped when you brought your mouth to his, his own blood still on your tongue. His response was borderline pitiful as he lapped the blood from inside your mouth, the metallic taste making his face twist up briefly.

You sucked on his tongue and brought the knife up to his throat, pressing the cold steel against it. His mewls were music to your ears as you kept the blade flush with his skin, but didn’t draw blood. Pulling away from his mouth, a thin string of red-tinged saliva connected your lips to his pink, kiss-swollen ones momentarily before breaking and falling onto his chin and labret piercing.

You kept the knife steady and moved your hand back to his cock, smearing the precum from his twitching tip along the shaft, his moans getting higher in pitch every time you touched his poor dick.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You’re getting off on me putting a knife to your throat and making you swallow your own blood. Disgusting.” You muttered to him, his cock jumping in your hand. You snickered at him, lips curling into a cocky smile.

“Fucking pathetic.”

His blissed-out face was angelic as he struggled to form words, groaning at the feeling of the knife’s pressure increasing as he tried to speak.

“P- Please let me cum. I’ll be so- so good, I promise.” He whined, looking into your eyes and searching for your mercy. He was so gorgeous, who were you to deny him.

Without warning, your furiously pumped his shaft, biting your lip to hold in a moan as you felt the velvety skin in your hand. He almost screamed at the sudden stimulation, trying his best not to writhe so as not to injure himself on your blade.

“C’mon baby, you asked for it.” You taunted, picking up the pace on his dick, swiping your thumb over the tip periodically. His hips lifted, bucking into your hand violently as he whined. His dick twitched more and more and his thrusts into your fist got shakier, a sign he was moment away from cumming on your hand.

You pressed the knife harder against his throat while you squeezed him, and he came undone deliciously easy, almost screaming in relief. His eyes welled with tears at the sensation, and he babbled a string of “thank you”s and “oh my god”s, interspersed with expletives. His cum painted your fist as you jerked him through his orgasm.

You removed the knife, setting it on your bedside table.

“You’re such a good boy, taking that for me. What a pretty slut.” You cooed at him.

──────────

Want more? Check out my taglist for notifications when I post!

A/N - Thank you for reading, I hope you all liked it! More dom!reader to come teehee, and more Sam content as well!! xx

@jadegmfu @fuckmyskywalker

#thirza writes #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden x reader #sam monroe smut #sub!sam monroe #tw knife #tw blood

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doudouneverte · 2 years ago

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Worried Moms

a/n: hey it's my first request, i hope you'll like it. I loved to write it.

*not my GIFs*

WandaNat x adoptive!daughter!reader; Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff; Avengers x teen!f!reader

Request: And I do have something to request if you feel comfy doing it. Mom!Wanda and Mama!Nat with the reader as their daughter. Reader gets sick and tries to hide it and push through it but they end up fainting or something like that, cue to mama bears mothering her to health. (Idk if fainting can be considered a trigger but if it's for you, I'd gladly read the fic with whatever you have in mind.). [Request by @darkstar225]

Summary: You're sick but you have to hid it from your moms because you want to go in mission, unfortunatly for you and Sam everything don't go well.

Type: Fluff

Warning: maybe 'fucked up' use three time

word count: 1319

--------

You awoke with a headache; it was unusual for you to become ill since gaining your powers. You didn't know if it was a bad thing, but you had to hide it; the next week, you'll go on a mission, but first you have to get your moms' approval. They said they would think about it if you managed to survive your training session. Easy, no? The rest of the day, your state was getting worse, but because you successfully hid it from an ex-assassin and a witch who could read your mind (even if she didn't do it without your consent), you could handle it a little longer.

The next day, otherwise, at the time you woke up, you thought you could die; if it was a cold, it was the worst you ever had. But you didn't really have the time to think about it; you checked your clock: 9 a.m., which meant you had one hour before the start of your training session. You decided to take a hot shower; it was helpful for the next 40 minutes. Today you were paired with Sam to upgrade your hand-to-hand combat skill. At first it was like usual, but suddenly your breath hurt your lungs. You stopped and tried to process what was happening, but Sam punched you in the face. It wasn't a strong punch; he restrained himself, but due to your poor condition, you fell on the training ground with your eyes closed; you were knocked out. When your body hit the ground, everyone in the room froze. There was silence until Sam kneeled next to you and asked, "Y/n? Y/n, are you all right?"

Obviously not, but you didn't mind that he couldn't think clearly. To be honest, no one could; the Falcon picked you up from the floor and ran to the med bay, followed by all the rest of the team.

"You're fucked up, Sam." Bucky said,

"I didn't do anything; we were training, and I just tried to punch her. "Usually, she'd dodge and hit me back," he defended himself.

"But now she's knocked out, and the only person with her was you. FRIDAY, could you please call doctor Cho?" Steve asked the A.I.

"It's done, Mr. Roger," the IA confirmed, but the hero couldn't respond before FRIDAY spoke again. "Mrs. Romanoff and Mrs. Maximoff are back."

There; he was fucked up. On their way to the kitchen, the two redheads found Helene, who was in a hurry and bumped into the shorter woman. "Sorry Natasha, I didn’t look where I was walking,” she apologized, and the Russian nodded.

“It’s okay, don’t worry, but you seem in a hurry, so we will not restrain you more.” She said and stepped aside to let the doctor resume her course. Wanda just had the time to put the bags on the counter when FRIDAY spoke.

“Mrs. Maximoff, Mrs. Romanoff, the doctor needs you in the infirmary right now.” The two women exchange a confused look before heading to where they were called. In front of the room, the witch felt a wave of fear and sadness, and she started to worry. Of course, Nat noticed and grabbed her hand before they walked into the room.

Their eyes widened when they saw you in the bed; they rushed to you before any of them could say anything Sam explained what’s happened. “How couldn’t you notice she was not like usual?” the Russian yelled at him, and nobody found the courage to defend him.

Wanda approached you and cupped your cheek. "Don't worry, dragă (darling), she's fine," the Sokovian assured her, and Helen spoke up.

"Don’t worry, Natasha I just got the results from the test, and it seems she just has a cold.” The doctor reassured her, and the ex-assassin seemed to be more calm. “She just needs to rest for a week. I’ll give you some medicine in case she needs it after she wakes up.” Everyone except your mothers left you after your mothers nodded.

After two hours, you awoke. You were surrounded by two worried redheads. “Hey, you.” you said softly.

“Hey, you.” Wanda said, and Natasha gave you a soft smile. “How are you feeling?” the witch asked you.

“Like I collided with a bus, but he was moving. But I think I'm okay," you said, looking around and raising your brows. "Where am I?" you inquired.

“In the infirmary,” the Black Widow said this time, “we were really worried about you when Sam told us what’s happened.”

You sighed “I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Since when?” Wanda asked, and her wife looked at her confused. “Since when have you been like this?” she added.

“Yesterday.” You admitted it shyly.

“Yesterday!?” the older woman loudly repeated, and you nodded. “Why did you hide it from us?” She inquired, a little concerned about her failure to notice it earlier.

You played with your fingers to try to erase your anxiety, “because you said you’d let me go with you if I finished the training session. And I wanted to make you proud of me, and show you I was ready. So, I forced myself to not let you know and not think about it when I was near Mama.” You paused a moment, saying, "I'm sorry if it makes you worry," and some tears found their way into the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Nat cupped your cheek and brushed your tears with her thumb. “It’s okay; we’re a little worried, but it’s okay; we’re not mad or anything. You don’t have to cry, malyshka (baby girl)” their eyes were wet too.

You were about to speak again when a red whip lifted you. The scarlet magic tickled you “We can’t stay here, and you have to rest.” The witch said, and you laughed, “What is so funny?” She gave you a falsely curious look.

“It-haha…it’s tickling me.” You barely said and before you could notice she lend you on your bed. ‘Thank you,” you said, and they gave you a kiss on both cheeks before heading to the door. “Where are you going?’ you asked.

“We must cook you something. We’ll not let you like that.” Wanda said before they left the room. In the kitchen, everybody was waiting for the two women to give an update.

“How is our little fireball?” Tony asked.

“Much better,” Wanda replied, “she just needs rest. We put her in her bed, and we’ll cook something, so she’ll eat before sleeping again.” She explained, and after that, Natasha hit Sam’s head.

“What was that for?” he asked, a little scared.

“You hit our baby girl.” the Russian replied; “you’re lucky Wanda didn’t throw you away earlier,” she added, and the atmosphere changed. “And for the mission, I think we will let you go. We will stay with Y/n. I’ll text Fury.” She explained, nobody found any reason to argue; they know how much they love you, so it's obvious they’ll never let you alone in this condition.

You spent the next week in your bedroom, surrounded by your moms’ love; you couldn’t leave your bed without one of them following and making sure you were okay. Sam was not allowed to approach you for a month. It was pretty funny, and after that, he spent two months making sure you forgave him, even if you assured him it was not his fault.

This little incident proved how much they loved you, and of course you were glad even if you already knew that. You adored them just as much as they do.The world knew how scary the Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch were, and Sam could approve. But the world didn’t know how lovely and careful they could be, between them, of course, but twice as much with you.

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doe-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

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A/N - My love for the cowboy space dad, Sam Coe, has eclipsed to the point where I am now writing him fanfic...what a time to be alive, y'all. Anyway, enjoy the results of my brain rot, and let me know what you thought of it >.> More may be to come if he continues to plague my every waking thought

WARNINGS: Some angst on poor Cora's part, thanks to Lillian. Some Lillian bashing, thanks to reader. It's not specified if reader and Sam are fully together at this point in the story, but it's implied. Post 'Matters of the Hart' mission.

The bay of the Razorleaf slowly descended with a hydraulic hiss, finally clanking against the tarmac of a landing pad. From the bottom of the ramp, you watched as the dusty, endlessly sun-bleached landscape of Akira came into view. The first unfiltered breath of the atmosphere hit the back of your throat unpleasantly. How anyone tolerated such a low humidity every single day, you couldn’t guess. Akila was kind enough not to be a sweltering wasteland on top of it all, so…small victories there.

You’d not been much impressed with the sight of the planet the first time you’d landed on it, and it still gave no better impression now. Sand-swept walls and buildings rose from an equally monotone environment. It wasn’t hard to picture the planet might one day just swallow the city whole and leave nothing after to show there’d been civilization there. Perhaps through sheer stubbornness and pride, the Akila City citizens kept their place in the galaxy.

A long-suffering sigh and a set of muted footsteps approach from your right. Sam stops beside you and gazes across his home planet with equal apprehension. His arms cross and he levels his hometown’s ‘Welcome to Akila City’ archway a woeful stare.

“Never gets any easier…”

You’re not surprised by his reluctance to return home. A visit to Jacob Coe was never an occasion to celebrate, and this one would be particularly disappointing, given Sam would also be relinquishing his daughter to Lillian for that long-time-promised week vacation Cora mentioned every opportunity she could. You didn’t fault the almost-teen for being excited to see her mother, but it wasn’t hard to miss Sam’s lack of enthusiasm for the whole affair. He loved his daughter above anything else, and letting her go for such a length of time wouldn’t be easy.

This stop was a ‘two birds, one stone’ of all of Sam’s least favorite activities. His less-than-cheery mood was understandable, and you couldn’t help but share this feeling. After months of the inquisitive girl aboard your vessel, you’d gotten so used to the random questions and cringe-inducing jokes that the impending silence was admittedly quite daunting.

Akila just so happened to be the closest planet to where Lillian had finished up a month-long assignment. With the promise that she had time-off to spend, Sam had agreed to have the Ranger pick Cora up here, and it would ultimately be where you and Sam retrieved her after their time together. It ate the cowboy up inside, you could tell. But he kept quiet and put on a facade of support if only for Cora’s sake.

“I don’t see Lillian’s ship.” He added, sweeping his gaze past the entrance to the city and across to the other landing pads. Concern began to overtake the displeasure of being on Akila, and you could instantly follow where his internal thoughts were leading.

“We did get here earlier than planned.” You finally say, laying a calming hand on the man’s jacketed arm and earning his attention. It’s not like you were were defending the woman, but it was a little silly to assume anything when the Razorleaf had just touched down almost 2 hours before you’d agreed to rendezvous with the Ranger. You might dislike Lillian Hart, but you weren’t that petty. “Give it some time.”

“Yeah, yeah…you’re right.” After an affirming deep breath and a weary shake of his head, some of the tension in his shoulders eases. Some, but not all. “I’m just…not too optimistic about this.”

“I know.”

“She’s flaked before, and this one means a whole lot to Cora.” He went on, as if you weren’t already aware of the meaning behind it all. “I can’t help but worry she’s not gonna show.”

“We’ll handle that if it comes to it. For now, just take a breath.” You say, flashing him your best reassuring smile. Even he could tell it was a little forced, but he did return the gesture with a muted one of his own. At the very least, you made sure he didn’t have to face whatever might happen by himself.

Razorleaf’s airlock releases behind you, and Cora’s beaming smile leaves the ship before she does, her small suitcase of belongings in tow behind her. You’re willing to bet there are more books than there are clothes in there, but hey, you wouldn’t judge. She blunders down the ramp with an energy you’d never seen before, curls bouncing atop her head the whole way, finally coming to a breathless stop next to her father.

“Is she here yet?” She questions, eyes already darting around the spaceport before receiving an answer.

“Not just yet, string bean.” Sam gave her hair a good-natured rustle, smile regaining some of its warmth as he addressed his daughter. “I’ve got some business with your grandpa first, so we arrived a bit early. I’m sure she’ll be touching down soon enough.”

You don’t comment on the edge of uncertainty that accompanies that last part. And thankfully, Cora doesn’t ask to go with her father for a family visit. Sam always preferred her to be as far away from Jacob as possible. At some point, you assume Cora understood why, though she’d never directly voiced it.

Sam pats his daughter’s cheek affectionately. “I shouldn’t be too long. Y/N’s gonna keep you company until your mother gets here. Don’t you go anywhere until I get back to say goodbye, alright?”

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

Cora gives an exaggerated little roll of her eyes, but her smile is ever-present. “I promise, dad."

“That a’girl.” He says, leaning down to place a gentle kiss against the top of her head. Then, his attention turns to you. “You two gonna be alright?”

“We’ll be just fine.” Is your reply, promising through unspoken word to keep Cora safe and sound while he was away. The reassurance is what he needed most, and you were more than happy to provide it. “We’ll make sure to have way more fun than you will.”

“Heh. Yeah, well…that won’t be too hard.” Sam’s head tilted a little, eyes squinting, already picturing the impending encounter with his own father. “I’ll comm you when I’m done.”

You wave your companion goodbye, watching him disappear past the protective walls of Akila City, then turn to the girl practically buzzing with excitement beside you. “We’ve got a bit of time to kill. So…where to first?”

This earns you an amused laugh, and the two of you begin walking towards the entrance of the city. “Do you even need to ask?”

“I figured today might be the day you just surprise me.”

You’re not sure how much time you spend standing around watching Cora browse the many books in Akila City’s—woefully small, in your opinion—selection. Seeing her over the moon at each new title, eyes scanning the summaries and even skimming the inner pages never got old. Her enthusiasm for the first new book she’d laid eyes on was just as exuberant as what was possibly the 18th book that afternoon.

The girl was a talker, chatting up the bookstore owners with the passion of a scholar. You could tell the women weren’t used to having someone so forthcoming with their love of literature in their store, but they quickly joined Cora’s wavelength and discussed their favorite volumes at length.

More than content to stand off to the side and let the girl have her fun, you interjected where appropriate, but for the most part just let the conversation go without you. Cora could talk for two people, anyway.

Eventually, even she had her fill of the bookstore, stomach grumbling with the need for food. You walked out of the store only a few hundred credits poorer—a miracle if there ever was one—and headed off to the chunks establishment just down the way. Akila was a maze at the best of times, but for once you managed to navigate the streets with little trouble.

You stood in line and debated with the young bibliophile what the best flavor of chunks was, but couldn’t come to an agreement. Your own favorite was completely out of stock when you managed to get help from the attendant, so you went with Cora’s favorite instead.

With sated stomachs and a few new books for Cora in tow, you return to the spaceport to wait on the ship until either Sam or Lillian arrive. One glance around at the other landing pads confirms that Lillian’s ship had still not touched down. Sam still hadn’t comm’d you after an hour and a half, which meant his meeting with Jacob probably wasn’t going well. Regardless, you knew he’d make his way back to the Razorleaf in time to see his daughter off, even if it meant leaving business unfinished with his father.

You hid your worry behind a carefully neutral interest in whatever Cora had been talking about while you walked back to the Razorleaf, but that pit of dread began to dig its way into your stomach. Anger simmered right behind it. Cora didn’t seem to notice your rapidly worsening mood, which was all the better. If your fears turned out to be unwarranted, no need to rub it off on the girl.

When the ship’s communicator finally chimed with an incoming transmission, both yours and Cora’s heads jerked up. Being closer to the cockpit, you slid into the captain’s chair just as Cora ran by your side. Immediately, you knew it wasn’t Sam reaching out, and instead the woman you were meant to be meeting in…28 minutes. Cora’s face lit up with the prospect that it was her mother calling to tell them she was almost there.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be that optimistic.

One touch on your control panel accepted the transmission. Before you could even issue the standard greeting, Cora chimed in with a bubbly, “Hi, Mom!”

Hearing her daughter’s voice had caught the Ranger off guard. There was a pause before she responded. “Cora, angel…how are you?”

Her tone of voice made you stiffen in your seat, mouth pressing into a thin line, but Cora didn’t notice. She leaned forward against your chair’s armrest.

“I’m great! Are you almost here? I’ve got my bag all packed, so as soon as Dad comes back from Grandpa’s we can leave.”

“Ah, I was actually hoping to speak with your dad. Do you know how long he’ll be?”

Figures she’d try to speak with Sam instead of breaking her daughter’s heart directly, you think bitterly. You wondered if she even realized how selfish it was to put the responsibility on her ex-husband to break this crushing news.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon. And I found a few books we can read together while we travel to wherever we are going. I know you’ll like them.”

Your heart broke further with each new word the curly-haired pre-teen spoke, knowing what was about to happen. The taste of your chunks packet earlier was overshadowed by the bitterness of anger as it bubbled hotter under your skin.

“That’s great, sweetie, but…” Lillian’s voice trailed off, guilt or embarrassment or some equally fitting emotion coloring her tone. Perhaps she’d realized that there was no softening the blow she was about to deliver. “…listen. Something came up that I have to take care of. I’m so sorry, Cora. I’m not gonna be able to make it this time.”

A full second, maybe two, of silence passed, Cora processing what her mother had said. Seeing the girl’s face morph from elation at hearing her mother’s voice to something akin to confused betrayal tore at the deepest parts of your heart. If you could have saved her from this, you would have. But Cora being in the ship meant that she’d hear every word spoken no matter where in the craft she was.

“Oh.”

That one word, uttered with such devastating resignation. Cora straightened from leaning across your armrest and stood there with a carefully put together mask. You could see every crack and fracture in the young girl’s facade, but she put up a valiant effort to appear unaffected.

Lillian must have heard the same, and continued again before you could interject anything.

“I know how much you were looking forward to this, and trust me when I say I was too. I’d love nothing more than to take you away to a little paradise together and just spend the days hangin’ out without a care in the world.” Lillian’s attempts at smoothing over the hurt did nothing at all to fix anything about this. “I promise you, we’ll get together and have our week-long vacation, do or die, one of these days.”

Cora didn’t say anything. So unlike the chatty pre-teen. She looked down at her shoes, before quietly taking a hold of her suitcase you now realized she’d dragged with her in her rush to the cockpit.

“It’s alright, mom. We’ll figure it out someday.” Dear God, she barely sounded like Cora…all color was missing from her voice. So little life.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I know.” And with that, she turned and padded her way back to the cot at the back of the ship. Perhaps she didn’t want you to witness her misery, because she went so far as to close the hatch to the cockpit, leaving you by yourself with Lillian still connected. Even with the hatch closed, Cora might still hear the conversation, but given everything that had happened, you no longer gave a damn.

“What is it this time, Lillian?” Your voice is full of barely restrained venom as you lean forward in your chair. You can’t see the woman through the audio transmission, but you were glaring anyway. “What’s so important that you couldn’t keep your promise to your daughter?”

The sweetness present when she’d spoken with Cora was absent, replaced by cold indifference when addressing you. The contrast was so stark, if you hadn’t already known her, you’d say they were two separate women. “You talk like this doesn’t hurt me just as much as it does Cora.”

“Because it doesn’t.” You say, reminding yourself to restrain the worst of your emotions. It wouldn’t do Cora any favors by cursing out her absentee mother from the other room. That wasn’t what the girl needed right now. Your head shakes with a rueful scoff. “If you could only see, Lilian…the way that girl’s face shattered. Then maybe you’d understand just how much more she’s hurting. But no, instead you do this over comms where you don’t have to look her in the eyes. Hell, you were going to put it on Sam to break the news, weren’t you?”

Lillian, perhaps smartly, doesn’t rise to that particular insinuation. “I do what I can, when I can to be there. It’s unfortunately a lot less than I’d like, but my duty is to protect the people of Freestar Space. I have obligations I can’t just ignore.”

“You seem to have forgotten your obligations as a mother in the process.”

“I’d give anything to be there with my little girl. Don’t ever imply I wouldn’t.”

“If that were the case, you’d have found someone else to handle whatever ‘came up.’ When it comes down to it, you don’t give anything, and you need to. Each missed visit convinces her that she’s another step further down on your list of priorities. What do you think happens when she believes she’s at the bottom?” You retort, already exhausted over this whole conversation.

“Cora knows how much she means to me, how important she is.” Funny, you think Lillian almost has herself convinced.

If it kept going at this rate, you were likely to start yelling, and that wouldn’t end well. Besides, Cora needed someone to be with her right now, so things needed to end quickly.

You let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, voice growing much quieter as you reigned in your fury. “Look, Lillian…Sam already explained this to you. You can’t keep doing this. Cora can’t. She’s already 12. 13 in just a few months. Before you know it, she won’t be a child anymore. At this rate, there will come a point when she decides waiting for you to bother isn’t worth the heartache. There will come a day when you retire, when the need to fulfill a duty is over and done, and she will not be there. Because in the moments when it mattered—really mattered—you weren’t there for her. You realize that, right?”

You hear the woman sigh, and deep down, you know she hates that this conversation ever had to take place as much as you do. You know, really, that Lillian had good intentions with her promises. And that’s what made it all the more frustrating when she failed to deliver. She was well aware of how important this all was. Her damned chronic workaholic personality and inability to set aside the needs of the many just wouldn’t allow her to put anything else above it. Even at the cost of her daughter’s trust and happiness.

“You sound more like her mother than I do sometimes…” The Ranger admits tiredly. “I don’t know whether to be angry or grateful.”

“Honestly, I don’t care how you feel about it.” You say with a shrug. “She needs someone to be there for her. Sam is a wonderful father, and always there when it counts, but that girl needs a mother too. I know I’ll never replace you in her heart, it's not something I'm trying to do anyway. But I’ll fill whatever role she needs me to be, if it keeps her smiling.”

You hear a muffled beeping through the transmission, followed by Lillian’s muttered curse. “Damn it…looks like I’m about to have company.”

“Spacers?” You weren’t really concerned, or even cared, and asked only out of obligation.

“Crimson Fleet, I think.” There’s a pause, and you know that the conversation had come to an end. Nothing had resolved, but you knew Lillian wasn’t likely to change who she was after a short talk. “Listen, tell Cora I love her. I expect I’ll hear from Sam later on about this. He has every right to be angry. I am who I am, and that’s exactly the reason we never would have worked out in the end. I only regret Cora is suffering because of it. But for now, duty calls.”

Always duty with this woman. “Be safe, Lillian.” You bid, already reaching for the console button to end the transmission.

“You too.”

The audio cuts off abruptly, and you lean back in your chair with a slow inhale. Dragging your hands down your face, you release the last of your anger in a harsh exhale. Best to get rid of it now, so it wasn’t obvious when you went to see Cora. Not wasting anymore time, you stand from the chair and open the hatch.

You find Cora sat on your cot, a thousand-yard stare fixed at some point on the floor in front of her. Her smile was long gone, replaced instead by the remains of whatever facade she’d crafted to appear put together and ok. The little suitcase she’d packed with all her belongings sat a few feet away. It was zipped halfway open, as if she’d began to unpack, but then thought better of it.

A sad sigh leaves your lips. For a moment, you just watch her, calculating how best to approach this conversation. Sam was much better equipped to handle something like this, but you weren’t sure how much longer he’d be, and it pained you having to see her in such despair. You couldn’t just sit back and let her stew in whatever thoughts might be dragging her further down.

You slowly approach the still-silent Cora, electing to sit at her side just a few inches apart. Whether she wanted physical comfort, or just someone to be nearby, you weren’t sure. But you were close enough that, should she need you, she didn’t need to go far.

And for awhile, the two of you just…sit there. Words fail you, and try as hard as you might to find the right ones to say that might heal some of the hurt in Cora’s heart, nothing feels good enough. But eventually, you hear the girl sniffle. The first sign that her careful hold on her emotions was beginning to crack.

“Mom is a good Ranger. She’s out there saving lots of lives and making the galaxy less dangerous.” Cora’s wavering voice says, and you nearly want to cry yourself hearing just how hard it was for her not to shed those tears. Perhaps this was something she told herself each day as justification for her mother's constant absence. “I know she’ll make it up to me one day. She always does, eventually.”

You bite your lip. “Cora-“

“But…just once,” another sniffle breaks through, and then the first tear slides down her cheek, “I was hoping that…that it would all go right and we’d be a-able to see each other for a whole week. There’s s-so much I want to show her and talk to…to her about.”

More tears follow the first, and you lift your sleeve to wipe them from her face gently. But they keep coming, now that the floodgates had opened, and Cora openly wept as she sat beside you, her true feelings spilling over in bucketfuls. You did your best to keep up, but it only takes minutes for her to be shaking with the overwhelming sadness.

“I just want my mom…” She sobs, covering her eyes with her hands to try stopping the flow. “That’s all.”

A sharp cry has you reaching for her shoulders and pulling the girl in close, and your heart leaps when she forcefully wraps her arms around your middle and buries her tear-stained face in your shirt. What you wouldn’t give to drag Lillian here by the hair and force her to be here for her daughter…

With soothing ‘shushing’ noises, you gently rock her back and forth, one hand patting her back and the other holding her head close. You don’t know what to say to her, truly. Finding the words to tell Lillian how much you thought she failed her daughter constantly and consistently was easy. Finding the words to tell her child that she deserved so much more than what she was being given? That was much more difficult.

You sat there while Cora poured her heart out. Through the sobs, she mumbled muffled and incoherent sentences into your shirt. You’re not sure what half of them were, but if she just wanted to get it all out and vent, that was fine with you. Your shirt was damp with her tears, but that was alright too. Nothing would pull you away from offering whatever support you could while she worked her way through the many emotions.

Eventually, Cora’s sobbing began to ebb, the shaking becoming less pronounced. Her breathing evens to something less stuttered and shallow, and before too long you realize she’d managed to cry herself to sleep against your side. The poor thing…you continued the gentle rocking motion just in case, not wanting to wake her up.

A dull beeping noise caught your attention, and you look up towards the cockpit where it emanated from. Your communicator, you realized. That was probably Sam, wanting to let you know that he was done with whatever him and Jacob had needed to discuss. Part of you thinks to get up and answer, but the thought of jostling Cora awake was too much. You sat there, figuring that Sam would return to the ship to look for the two of you.

If you had to guess, it was about ten minutes before you heard the footsteps coming up the Razorleaf’s ramp. You didn’t move from your spot, listening as the airlock hissed open. Somehow, the noise didn’t wake the exhausted Cora, who barely moved from her place next to you.

Sam nearly walked past you sitting on the cot, but his peripheral vision caught your presence, and he stopped. He took in the sight of his daughter curled into your side, her posture clearly indicating that she’d been crying. You met his gaze with a stony, cold fury, one he understood wasn’t directed at him personally. That one, silent stare was all he needed to figure out what had occurred while he’d been away.

The inquisitive expression he’d worn coming in vanished, jaw setting tightly. Clearly agitated, Sam stepped a few paces away, hand rubbing along his jaw in an effort to remain calm in the face of what Lillian had put his daughter through once again. He looked like he wanted to throw something. His breathing was more pronounced, though came through in slow, methodical inhale and exhales through his nose. Truthfully, you don’t think you’d ever seen Sam so angry.

In time, he finds himself again, stowing away the anger for the sake of his daughter. He could vent his feelings to Lillian later, when Cora wouldn’t hear it, but for now the important thing was making sure his daughter was alright. That was something you would never grow tired of seeing; Sam’s absolute dedication to his little girl, no matter what.

He moves to sit on her other side, and leans down to kiss the top of her head. It didn’t matter to him if she was still sleeping. You slowly move to shift Cora’s weight over to Sam, and somehow manage it without waking the sleeping pre-teen. She stirs, but her eyes never open.

Sam takes off his cowboy hat and sets it next to him, leaning back and holding Cora closer to him. He settles in to sit there for awhile, unsure how long she’ll be out for. Then, his eyes glance up to meet your own, holding them with a look so full of…something, that you can’t look away.

“Thank you. You were there for her when she needed it.” He says, his voice raspy and quiet so as not to wake Cora. And while you know he couldn’t have heard your conversation with Lillian before, it’s eerie how similar his words were. “I appreciate that beyond words.”

You give a little shrug, eyes drifting back down to the girl in his arms. “She needs her dad now.”

“And you, Y/N.” He says, drawing your attention back up to him. He offers the smallest of smiles. “She needs you too.”

Unsure of what to say, you simply sit back and make yourself comfortable, waiting for Cora to awaken. Your hand rubs along her back, hoping that the two of you would somehow be able to fix some of what Lillian had broken.

#sam coe #sam coe x reader #fem reader #starfield #bethesda #Cora coe #scenario #starfield x reader

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 10 months ago

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Skelly learns their kid needs glasses because kid called another skeleton dad (said 'other skeleton is similar in shape) extra points if the 2 skeletons don't like each other lol

Heya I'm back! Did you all have a fun Christmas?

Undertale Sans - That's fine. He totally didn't get offended when you ran past him to run in Red's (Underfell Sans) arms and watched helplessly as Red played along, looking him straight in the eyes. Someone is going to find dog poop in front of his house later today.

Undertale Papyrus - I mean, it's ok, he's confusing himself with Delta (Disbelief!Papyrus) every day as well, he's not mad. It's easy to mistake them all together. Delta feels like the chosen one right now, so Papyrus lets him have his fun.

Underswap Sans - He huffs, annoyed the kid confused him with Nugget (Horrorswap Sans). He's not particularly mad at the other skeleton, but clearly, make an effort. He's missing an arm??? Nugget is just happy to have attention even though he looks very uncomfortable with the sudden hug. Please, help him.

Underswap Papyrus - His heart breaks in pieces as the kid runs past him to jump in Rus' (Swapfell Papyrus) hands. How can you do this to him? With this walking trash can out of all people?! Honey falls dramatically on the floor like a dead sea star. He's done.

Underfell Sans - He hisses at Dune (Dustale Sans) as the kid runs straight to him. The poor skeleton is so confused, not understanding what's even going on as he suddenly has a child in his arms. Oh well. If it comes to him, it's his. Red can only watch in horror as Dune blips in thin air with his kid. Uh oh. S/O is so going to kill him.

Underfell Papyrus - His jaw falls on the floor as his kid runs happily to Torpedo (Mafiafell Papyrus) and hugs his legs like it's a perfectly normal skeleton. Edge comes running, snatches his kid from him and throws himself at Torpedo's face to attack him lol. Torpedo is way stronger than he is though so it gets quite embarrassing when Edge has to flee, his kid above the head, chased by a very pissed-off mafia leader who swears he will end him before the end of the week.

Horrortale Sans - The kid runs straight to Sans. Oak looks at the scene, completely defeated. Welp. That happened. There's a long awkward silence between the two skeletons lol. I mean, Sans did nothing wrong, but, uh, he can guess why Oak feels hurt by this so much. He tries to defuse the tension with a joke, but Oak stays silent. Big boy is sad :(

Horrortale Papyrus - He's so confused when the kid runs to hug Chief (Horrorfell Papyrus), almost knocking the poor skeleton out of his wheelchair with their force. They look nothing similar???? Well, Willow is not (too) mad about this, since Chief is part of his dysfunctional family, but still. That was rude. He's pouting.

Swapfell Sans - He gasps loudly as the child runs and jumps in Wine's (Fellswap Gold Sans) arms, both from shock and offense. Wine is in shock as well actually. His eye sockets are entirely black. He just picks the kid by the hood, looks at them from head to toe and just "Ew." before pushing him back to their father. "EW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN EW?" Nox screams, enraged. Wine simply shrugs. The kid has the good idea to take a step back as Nox lunges at him to kill him as usual.

Swapfell Papyrus - He looks at Coffee (Fellswap Gold Papyrus) as his kid runs to him. Coffee looks in utter panic, not knowing what to do. Rus simply smiles at him. "Welp, you're the father now. Good luck." Rus then vanishes in front of his eyes as Coffee is asking if he's joking, then screams at him with more and more distress to come back lol. Rus is such a jerk.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's scandalized as his hair runs to that asshole of Sam (Farmtale Sans). How dare they?! He raised them and all of this for this? That's it. Wine is pissed off. He leaves like a drama queen, stomping the floor angrily, leaving the confused kid behind with the framer who gasps in shock when he realizes Wine is abandoning his kid. What the hell? Sam grabs him by his expensive jacket and throws him on the floor, asking what the hell is wrong with him. Wine growls back, hissing like a snake. Uh... Either of their brother better act quick because they are going to fight and none of them is willing to stop lol.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - The kid runs happily to Creeper (Mafiatale Papyrus) which makes Coffee, who ran after him, stop dead in his tracks. Uh... Coffee is terrified of that guy. He's not sure what to do now. He's too scared to go and ask the skeleton to please give back his child. So, uh... He's just staring, hiding behind a tree, slowly having a panic attack. Please? Help? Someone?

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #disbelief papyrus #horrorswap #horrorfell #mafiatale #mafiafell #dustale sans #farmtale #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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gloomzi · 11 months ago

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A Little Death

PAIRING sam riordan/emma meyer/gn!reader

WORD COUNT 743

SUMMARY (Y/N) comes back from class to find their partners, Emma and Sam, have started having fun without them.

WARNINGS sfw despite what the summary might sound like, reader is somewhat more dominant in the relationship, they/them pronouns for reader

NOTES this is my first fic on this blog + my first x reader in many many years, pls go easy on me 😭😭 i don't think this is my best work by any means but i wanted to write something gen v so here it is! title is from a the neighbourhood song btw :p that being said, hope yall enjoy!

Sam's hands rested gently on Emma's waist, fingers rubbing small circles over her hip bones as she kissed down his neck gently. Though he was mostly distracted by the sensation of her lips ghosting over his adam’s apple, he could just faintly hear the sound of (Y/N) entering the room, his eyes opening slowly to meet their gaze, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched them stand stock-still, bag slung over their shoulder. Emma had stopped briefly too, glancing over her shoulder to smirk at their partner before picking up where she left off, sucking a bruise right under Sam's jaw.

"Why do you guys always start having fun without me?" (Y/N) whined, walking over and forcing their way between them. Emma laughed, shoving their shoulder gently before allowing herself to be pushed out of the way, watching fondly as they pushed and pulled at Sam until he was sat in their lap. Though Sam was much taller than (Y/N), they were always eager to dote on him, this position becoming common between the two. From an outsider's perspective it probably looked silly, but Emma found it sweet and loved seeing the dynamic her partners had fallen into.

Sam huffed, crossing his arms, "We always start without you because you're always late,” He pouted.

Emma giggled, “Like seriously, do you just chat with everyone on your way back from class, or…?” (Y/N) rolled their eyes, ignoring Emma’s comment to squeeze Sam’s face lightly.

“Whiners, the both of you.” They muttered, kicking at Emma’s shin lightly.

Groaning, Emma moved closer to the pair, her legs propped up on either side of Sam’s, chest pressed into his back. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but she wanted to be close, so she’d deal with it for the moment. Wrapping her arms around Sam’s waist, she placed her head between his shoulders before loosening her grip so (Y/N) could maneuver him as they pleased. Using the hands that were already on his face, (Y/N) pulled him into a soft kiss, gentle and slow, his eyes fluttering shut as a hum of content slipped from his lips.

(Y/N) smiled slightly into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of the other boy's fingers sliding up the sides of their neck and settling behind their head. Sam nipped at their lower lip, smirking when he felt their fingers flex against his cheeks before trying to pull him in deeper. Emma watched them continue to kiss for a few more seconds before latching her own lips onto Sam's shoulder, biting lightly. The boy's breath hitched as he pulled away from (Y/N), a strand of spit following him back as he gripped Emma's thigh tightly in his left hand, his nails digging into her skin. His other hand held a handful of (Y/N)’s shirt, who watched the pair with half lidded eyes, their hands falling to Sam’s sides as Emma moved up his neck slowly, small bruise's starting to form a trail.

(Y/N) huffed a laugh, squeezing the boy’s waist lightly before smacking Emma’s knee, "First you start without me and now Sam gets all your attention," They pouted, though the lilt in their voice made it clear they didn’t actually mind.

Emma snickered, shaking her head, “Ohhh, poor baby! C’mere, I’ll give you all the attention you want,” She said, pulling away from Sam to lay beside the pair. After a moment of shuffling (Y/N) had been pulled into Emma’s lap, Sam’s face pressed into Emma’s collarbone, a barely noticeable smile on his face as he stared up at them. (Y/N)’s face had gone red, arms crossed tightly over their chest, still unused to the switch in position. Sure, they could appreciate being the one on the receiving end of the doting from time to time, but it wasn’t common, especially from Emma. Still, Emma cooed at their awkwardness, finding it cute as always, uncrossing their arms quickly and linking their hands together.

“Better?” Emma teased, swinging their hands with a grin. Sam chuckled besides them, muttering something about them being cute into Emma’s neck.

“Just kiss me already!” (Y/N) whined, pulling their hands loose to slip into Emma’s hair, tugging lightly.

Sam giggled, rolling his head out of the way slightly, “God, you two are ridiculous.” He smiled, reaching behind (Y/N)’s head to push them together, “Just get it over with.”

#icky.fics #icky.txt #emma meyer x reader #sam riordan x reader #emma meyer imagine #sam riordan imagine #gen v x reader #x reader #imagine #gen v imagine #gen v fanfiction

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lifetimeoftired · 3 months ago

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Now I rarely do character design, or draw for that matter, but when it came to Anthem of Our Dying Day, I felt a little inspired. Sam and Dani (called Elli in-story) haven't shown up yet, and won't for a few more chapters still, but they and Danny got the most changes to their overall designs. Yes because it's been 7 years since the events of the show, but the changes are for reasons that will eventually be explained in-story. I have more designs in mind of course, but I gave my poor hand a cramp doing just these three. So I'll have to come back with Jason's ghost form and Danny's eldritch form (possibly an update to Valerie's look, but honestly her outfit in the later episodes was incredible I don't think I can improve on that in any way shape or form) at a later date.

Anyway, thoughts behind why I gave them the designs that I did are A Lot so I figured I'd ramble in a tumblr post instead of in the AN's.

Danny:

Listen to me. Listen. This man was raised on the vibes of the 90s and early 2000s. Long trench coats were PEAK fashion back then. We all saw the Matrix. Danny also was dragged to the Underworld movies multiple times while dating Sam (who's opinions on those movies are radioactive because they are cult classics and I'll die on this hill). So Danny absolutely thinks trench coasts are cool as shit and make him look cooler. And listen to me very carefully; They're still peak fashion. Slapping a leather trench coat on a mildly gothic character and you have cinema. Also he has a hood because hey! Hoods are so cool and perfect for us 90s kids.

As for the color choices, I didn't want to change too much from the classic black and white hazmat suit but honestly? He really makes it work. I also added the green because the color pop looked cool as shit but also because I felt like, as Danny gets older, he starts to produce his own ectoplasm in ghost form and, similar to how some ghosts have 'flaming hair' to show off their power levels, Danny's over production of ecto culminates within his outfit. This is in part due to him becoming the prince of the Infinite Realms, but also he's just a strong mfer.

Why's the coat torn? Spoiler reasons.

Sam:

I'm actually really pleased by hers turned out because she was the one I was the least set on. The main vibes I wanted from Sam (who's hero name is 'Nightshade' btw) was 'Mad Nature Scientist'.

It's not easy to see, but the mask is actually meant to be flower petals like her skirt. The buttons on her lab coat are also leaves. This is in reference to her time as Undergrowth's chosen and of course her love of the environment, but she's also liminal enough to have a special way with plants. Not to the extreme Poison Ivy does (much to her dismay), but they're important to her and she wouldn't have a hero suit without them I believe.

As for the science bits, in story she's working with the Fentons to study ghosts. Also helps test their weapons (all non-lethal and exist to help her keep up with stronger ghosts), as well as picking up a lot of science-related skills thanks to her years of studying various biology in college and working with Jack and Maddie for several years. While Danny tends to handle the big fights while she runs support, but she's also acting as the brains when it comes to ecto poisoning, making more ecto-dejecto and understanding how ectoplasm reacts with living beings.

The corset is, of course, because she's goth. Why cover her up so much aside from the tiny tit window? That's story-related reasons and we'll get there when we get there.

Dani:

My favorite outfit of the bunch tbh.

In-story Ellie (so I the writer don't get confused by two Dan-es) did eventually return to Amity Park and settled in to be adopted by the Fentons and go to school for realsies and in general get to live something of a normal life. But I maintain that Sam (Valerie too, but Sam was dating Danny and around quite a lot) was a big influence on Ellie once she settled in. She's more 'punk' than 'goth', but finding herself through changing up her fashion was heavily encouraged by Sam. And, of course, Danny's protective older brother dismay. Which is honestly a huge bonus to her.

Like Danny, she produces a lot of her own ectoplasm, but less than he does. And her's is a lot less pure so hers is a different green- She's not too broken up about it because it shows that she is different than her 'template', but also because it matches Sam's green better. (Sam and Danny might not be dating anymore, but Ellie still considers her to be an older sister figure and being more like Sam delights her). She does have 'fire' flicks on her clothes and tbh I actually messed up coloring those. I meant to stop coloring partway up to give a bit of a fade to white effect and make the flames white the same as her shirt, but, alas. I don't think the all black boots and gloves look bad at all.

As for the hair, Ellie's core has an element same as Danny's, but hers is Air. And being that her hero name in Wraith, I really wanted to go for, kind of a ghostly floating/flickering fire long streak. More like Starfire's big curly hair from the comics the shows are cowards give her the poofy hair back!. Also the 'non ghost' hair cut uuuh, I'm not an artits but it was supposed to be that side braid with bangs that fall over? But yeah that's her hair when she's in human form.

That's about everything for now! I'll definitely be coming back to this with more designs once I've jotted them down. Hope to get chapter 3 out soon but that fucker is fighting dirty :(

#dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #dani phantom #aged up characters #character design #my fics #my art

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ellieslittleburrow · 24 days ago

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requested by : @skyhighwriter : Yeet what if Sam and Dean had a sibling who chose to leave to California with Sam for her music career. When Dean goes to get Sam he finds out she is playing a show soon. (Probably plays rock music similar to halestorm of the pretty reckless)

Warnings : Swearing, some family angst nothing big.

A/N : sorry you had to notify my dumbass for me to finally post it. i've been having this weird anxiety whenever i write something that pulls me miles back. Anyways, enough with the excuses-enjoy!

------

"Whoa, easy tiger."

Sam is pinned under his brother. Whom he just recognized-"Dean?" The oldest triumphantly sneers. 'You scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

A few moves, and Dean finds himself pinned beneath Sam's clutch.

"Or not-" The older brother breathes a laugh. "Get off me."

Sam gets up and pulls Dean with him. "Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"

...

As the conversation went on, Dean found himself out of words, yet still not ready to speak of the main subject. Finally, he locks eyes with Sam.

'Where is...where is she?" Dean's eyes discreetly search for you but little does he know..

"she.." A nervous cough escapes Sam's throat- unfortunately for him, Dean recognizes it. "She's not here"

"Okay. " The older one nods. "Where is she then?"

Sam sighs and darts his eyes around. "Not here."

Dean rolls his eyes in response. "Okay smartass. Take me to her-come on." Before the future lawyer gets to objectify-he finds himself being nudged toward the door.

Not long after that...interaction, the car comes to a stop at a bar parking lot. And Dean's body stiffens. It's quite late. So his sister is either :

working here(bad)

Drinking her brain off(bad bad)

Working here(very bad)

All three of these send Dean into a very silent fury and Sam is quick to pick up on that. So he rests his hand on his brother's thigh.

"Don't worry Dean, it's none of what you think." The words might've sounded reassuring but Sam's voice stank of a mockery. Toned with the kind of lightness you'd use when reassuring a small child. And so Dean fully ignores it , leaving the car without a word.

As the bar doors swing behind him, he scans the room for that familiar figure he'd seen grow up. But it was nowhere to be found.

He spins around, searching for Sam. "W..Where is she?"

Sam's features soften when he notices the worry etched across Dean's face. "She'll...." Drums suddenly pierce the greenly lit space and Sam's head swings up. The hunter's eyes follow- locking onto the stage. There-There's that figure, that of his little sister.

------

Shoulders burdened by the sacrifice

O' the promises the boy and his father pledged.

But the others fought and fled. Just as the father lost his head

And the boy turned into a man, shoulders heavier as that was always the plan

And he alone he hunted, like a big dark wolf,

No vows, no voices, no one to run to.

----

Cheerfully applause fills the room as the instruments quiet down. You wipe the sweat off your cheeks as you glance around the room, your intestines tightening the more you look around. You saw someone-or you think you saw someone?

As you step off stage, you softly push through the crowd as they congratulate you until you find yourself face to face with Dean.

His face is as easy to read as a children's reading book. As emotions ripple through his face, his chest heaves. And so does yours-just when you think about it. A lump winds up at your throat and you come to a halt.

"Dean."

His name betrays you- It almost feel foreign as you haven't said it out loud in a while. Between you and poor Sam, it's usually him or he. Phrases like where is...he? And is...is he doing okay? are his only chances to exist in your world-or so you think- Always accompanied by that hesitant silence. But not this time-this tim-

Dean leaps forward and before your body gets to jerk back, you find yourself locked in his embrace. And for a moment, the silence over on your left ear sends warmth down your body-and it's almost like you're whole again, but the outside world quickly returns, causing you to push back against your brother's chest.

You're still angry at him. for what reason? not sure. Maybe because he stopped calling? Maybe because he's not supportive enough. Maybe it's simply because he gave up on you.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" You ask coldly. And Dean quickly responds with a retort, earning a disappointed head shake from you.

"I should be asking you the same question, kid, what are you doing here?"

You turn your back to the crowd and to the stage, raising your hand in defiance. "I'm where i belong, Dean. I'm where i want to be."

Your older brother scoffs and you exhale. My god is this man tired. And this conversation too, like we haven't had it a million t-

"This? You don't belong here, kid-"

"Oh i belong with you? In a fucked up world full of injustice and death, Dean? Is that where i belong?" You raise your voice, attempting to bore through the noise-and to yell at him-simply. "In nasty motels and no life?"

"You belong with us-hunting- making the world a better place- actually doing something useful-"

Your heart stings as you process his words-which he himself weighs-later than he should have-and before he continues, you tsk. "No no"

You shake your head again. "I'm not having this conversation-Not until you tell me why you're here- if it's to get me back-Dean- get out-" You violently point at the door. "Get out because it's not happenin-"

"That's not why i'm he-"

"You could've called-You could've texted, man." You cut him off. "You could've asked about how i was doing-what i was doing. But you were simply too much of a coward to reach out-"

"i had nobody-honey-i had no one left. Not you- not Sam- Not dad.You left me just as i let go of you." Dean leans in and you step back. "Do not put this on me, kid." He tilts his head menacingly and you squint your eyes at him in response. "You chose this over me. There was nothing for me to do about th-"

"So it's my fault?! Is that what-"

"THAT'S NOT-" As he's about to lose his temper, the man runs a hand through his hair. "That's not why I'm here." He lowers his voice. "Please-let's talk outside." Your brother holds his hand out, his eyes pleading but you cross your arms over your chest, looking for Sam's eyes-searching for an answer from him. He won't answer, though. He had held his head down the whole time, he wouldn't break that now.

Your cheeks puff as you blow a breath out, brushing past both of them and heading for the door.

---

Outside, you sit down on the side walk and pull out a pack of cigarettes, taking one before pointing the pack at Dean, motioning for him to make himself comfortable. Instead, he narrows his eyes at you and glares in a disdainful manner.

"Oh and you smoke too?" His voice is not so bitter but- you want to be-

"I don't recall you participating in the birth of me, Dean. You might've raised me but you sure are not my dad, so back off."

Dean purses his lips before taking a leap towards you. "That's not what i meant-dumbass." Towering over you, he pinches at the cigarette resting in between your lips. "These are not good for your vocal chords." He snatches it and tosses it to the ground and your mouth falls open. Pure disbelief!

"Oh so now you're worried for them? but earlier-" Anger resurges and you get off the cemented floor. "You said they weren't useful."

"I-" Dean starts but quickly subdues, bringing his arms down to his hips. "I didn't mean what i said, okay?"

You falter, calming down before you're even conscious of it. And something itches at you-curiosity, causing you to stare at the man-hopeful and impatient.

"I didn't mean what i said-I....I like..." He hesitates. "I like that i can very easily notice my influence on your music taste. I mean those solos and that makeup and those lyrics." Dean snorts a laugh. "That's totally me."

A tiny chuckle leaves your lips. Though the answer is not the one you wanted, it is one you expected. You glance around, away from Dean.

"I don't have..much time left before my next song, so...." You swing your foot unattentively, shifting in place. You feel Dean straighten up.

"Are you happy here?"

The question sends a shiver up your spine and for some reason, your stomach tightens again. Because yes. yes you are. But before you get to answer that. Dean speaks.

"Of course you are-what a silly question." He mumbles and you sigh, guilt suddenly creeping in.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"No..No-of course not-I just-" He chuckles, though it sounds sad. "I...I actually don't know what to say, kid."

"Maybe be happy for me?" The words are barely audible as you're too hesitant, eyes still avoidant.

"I am-I really am. I just-I just don't understand why you left-" Dean takes a step closer to you.

"Dean-i'm actually-i matter here-"

"But you also matter when you hunt, kid-"

You finally snap-gently-firmly grabbing his arms. "But you don't need to hunt to make the world a better place." You finally find the courage to meet his eyes. And the frown shaping his forehead makes your heart ache but you continue- "As silly as this may sound to you-i too am making a change in the world-You know what- a week ago I met a little girl who told me my music saved her-Dean-do you realize how amazing that sounds?" Your words come out faster and faster. "I am doing something-I didn't leave just for the music and the crowds. I left because i knew that i belonged elsewhere-I belong somewhere on a stage- with a mic a few inches away from my lips-I-"

As Dean lowers his head to the ground and nods, a sense of sinking-doom settles within you. And you find yourself taking a step back, unable to hold the whimpers in.

"So this is it, huh?"

You step back even further as tears gather at your eyes. "It..It doesn't necessarily have to be?!"

One more try.

"Why can't i have both of you?! The music and you? Why is that so hard to accept, huh?"

You walk back to the door, swallowing the lump in your throat. "You know what-If you still can't have that-leave right now-Dean and i mean it-do not come anywhere near this door." A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. "But if there's a chance for us to be a family again, stay. This place holds many more secrets than you think. You never know what you might find here."

----

Hurrying inside and over to the stage, you blast a forced smile as applause fills the room again. You'd look at the far back b-you can't-you can't-the reality of the situation is too harsh-it would break you. But as the song begins and the instruments pound your eardrums, a familiar silhouette you've grown up seeing keeps stepping closer and closer to the stage, to you. And just as the lights flash white-

Your eyes are met with your brother's.

-----

so so so so sorry for that delay, again 👀 i am my worst enemy when it comes to writing. Alsooooo, I wrote that little stupid verse hehe I love being extra. Please let me know if yall enjoyed this and see you next tiime! 🌹🌹🌹🖤🖤🖤

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anthroposeen · 6 months ago

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tmagp 13 relisten notes!!

there are spoilers for episode 13 below the cut!

celia:

- admits to sam that she asked alice for advice and general information about him. this implies she has a pretty friendly relationship with alice (evidenced by alice buying her a mocha) and seems relatively unthreatened by her past with sam so far.

- "no one, im mysterious" -> evidence for her not being from this dimension, if no one can give a lot of information about her

- reveals jack is her baby! (not followed by a glitch)

- says the past couple years "since the move" (between dimensions?) were weird for her

- believes the incidents they work with are real, and im certain shes in the same boat as the audience rn, trying to categorize them with background knowledge that isnt accurate anymore

sam:

- easy to make blush, doesnt know how cute he is, is an overachiever, obsessive, a but repressed, nosy, kind of a recluse, and very easy to wind up

- gifted kid syndrome poster child; he seems to view being turned away by the magnus institute as the beginning of his rejection streak (not admitted to oxford, didnt get first, got fired from his legal firm). i think this will be a major point in his motivations and a fear of rejection and need for validation is going to drive him to receive the greatness he wants (and believes he has earned). i can already see a corruption arc brewing for him, poor thing

- did NOT tell celia about his experiences in the institute or what his "incident" was (referring to lena's interview where she asked him what the worst thing he's seen/experienced was). this isnt super sketchy considering its a first date, but is interesting since he was the one who wanted "all the baggage" out early

- he doesn't want to accept that the incidents are real, but i think he does believe in them. he brought the topic up to celia and has asked alice about it before too, so he may be aware that the incidents are real, but is unwilling to fully conceptualize what that means for himself and his world view

- says that alice doesnt love the idea of him seeing celia, which means he may have picked up on her feelings for him

gwen:

- feels guilty over instigating the mr.bonzo incident -> whats really interesting is that she doesnt threaten to quit or not be involved, she accepts that she gas another email to look through and another external to interact with, but it seems to upset her

- she asks lena why this (externals and mr bonzo murder) is happening, implying that she can stomach the work if its for a reason

lena:

- gives gwen the ABCs of genre-awareness:

- this dimension also has "opposing forces- most of them meaning to be harmful.

- these "forces" need to be "balanced" and controlled in order to maintain order in the world/system -> still working off of a smirke-esque theory that retaining balance will keep the world secure. i dont know if she means balance between forces of good and evil or forces in the supernatural sense

- says the OIAR is managing the bad guys, as in monitoring their actions and directing externals to "balance" things

alice:

- actually offended that sam doesnt want to share information with her and isnt having a good time knowing sam and celia are seeing each other

- tells sam "he cant prove anything" about the cases being real, but doesnt tell him hes wrong

- i would fling myself from a sky scraper for you, miss dyer, but please never say bussin or fire again

- "stop trying to make an impact" -> the more she tells sam to cut the x-files shit out, the more she stops protesting his suspicions. her scolding has gone from "nothing is going on, chill out" to "sure, theres a conspiracy, but we are paid to ignore it"

alice/sam's past:

- dated at uni, previously stated they were together for several years. it seems to have been a decent split since they stayed in contact afterward.

- sam was there for her when her parents died, but lost contact after

- she contacted him w the OIAR job details after he made an exceptionally pathetic vague post

incident:

- centered around gambling and self harm to achieve success- this draws ties to episode 2 (self harm) and episode 9 (luck). i expect this is more aligned with ep 9, as the self harm seems to be in the interest of changing his odds/luck, and the incident is primarily about gaining external success, not physical change. though, ep 2 could be a personal experience with ink5oul that is not representative with their "force"

- the narrator of this statement was quick to actively sacrifice his own well being to achieve better luck, which is a pretty stark contrast to other people who looked to harm other people in their own interest (violin guy and dice guy, i forgot their names sorry!!)

- zorro trader may be a reoccurring organization in relation to gambling

- the narrators options for his debt were to either pay it back or have a personal adjustment, once he completes the voicemail he is transferred to the adjustments apartment, which was not an option on the original call log and something he did not request

- he is promptly adjusted :)

- i think this could be related to the theme of keeping balance, since the incident narrator claims it isnt wrong to play with the loophole, and it ends with him getting what he owes, which is a nice connection to lena's explanation of the OIAR's purpose

glitches/lies:

- "im happy you're happy", alice (she is not happy that sam is with celia!!)

extra comments:

- i really didnt expect an explanation of the OIAR and its position in this so early, and im surprised lena was the one to reveal it. this exposes that shes pretty open with the staff she feels are on a need-to-know basis, and it also changes my expectations for how we'll come across a big reveal in this series, since information is being given in a more open way

- i think alice and celia definitely know something but in opposing ways- acting as foils to each other with sam (information seeker) in the middle. celia knows about how the fears work in the tma dimension, and alice knows why and what the OIAR are really doing- together, they solve the puzzle that sam is trying to piece together.

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 13 #alice dyer #sam khalid #celia ripley #gwen bouchard #lena kelley #tmagp theory #tmagp thoughts

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captain039 · 4 months ago

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Craving the wild side (Sam Winchester)

Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: AOB, medical things, mental health issues, abuse, light swearing, Angst, hurt/comfort, violence

Huzzah I write something without finishing my other stories 🙃

Case file No.2864

Name: Samual Winchester

D.O.B 2/3/1983

Age: 41

Background:

Sam Winchester (Feral alpha) found, then captured by our special team delta on the 1st of February 2024, Alpha was found at the fighting dens known as ‘Knocked Out Alphas’ in an underground base lead by omega leader Henry While. Alpha assaulted three officers in his feral state after the fighting pit door was left opened in the shootout. The feral alpha made a run for it before officer John Dennis tranquillised him and brought him to head facility 202. Alpha Sam Winchester has been here a total 5 months with little progression. Former head doctor Grace Peggy has been sent on maternity leave and this case now is being handed over to you.

Please see attached files regarding this case.

Your computer dings in notification at the files sent your way after your email from head office. You brief over them, before replying and log out before heading to lunch. Jimmy meets you there with a smile on his face as you both order a meal and sit down.

“So, I hear you’re on a new case?” Jimmy asks spooning some rice into his mouth.

“Yep, Sam Winchester case since Grace on leave” you answer taking a bit of your own food.

“She and her mate must be excited” Jimmy says and you grimace internally, the thought of a child, a human growing inside of you not comforting or exciting.

“If I could I’d do it for the paid leave” Jimmy says and you raise an eyebrow at the man.

“Uh huh” you say as he just shrugs with a small grin making you shake your head, he was strange sometimes.

“Should be a pretty easy case hopefully, though he’s been here 5 months, he has family, thankfully, hasn’t had any feral outbursts, things like that, he’s just quiet according to Graces notes” you say with a small shrug and sigh.

“You’ll get through to him” Jimmy comforts and you nod giving him a small smile.

After your weekend and more reading over Sam’s case you finally head into work Monday morning ready to meet the man. Though you really did hate the meeting through glass thing it was precaution, but they were human too, not some caged up animal, no matter their past life. You greet the guard outside his door and he lets you in with a nod of his head. You head inside and sit down before turning off the privacy screen. You look to room, clean, a little too clean, the beds made, actually doesn’t look like it’s been slept in for a while, the desk, chair are neat, the desk contents are neat some papers, crayons, the single couch seat and small pillows on it are neat and placed perfectly and the alpha in the middle of the room is sitting with his spine straight, clothes cleaned and unwrinkled, hair cleaned and fresh. You think he’s meditating and hesitate to say anything till he’s finished. So you wait for about ten minutes before he stands to his full height, geez the alphas a sky scrapper. You shake your head briefly focusing on him as he stretches his arms above his head before he turns around and jolts. His whole body tenses and you curse yourself silently, you hadn’t been watching him the whole time you’d been on your tablet.

“Greetings Sam, my names Doctor Y/l/n” you introduce yourself.

“Sorry for startling you, I thought you were meditating and didn’t want to interrupt!” You say trying to justify sitting here for ten minutes without a word, poor man. He nods his head a small frown on his face before he goes over to his desk and sits down. He picks up a black crayon and begins writing, ignoring your presence.

“Doctor Grace Peggy has gone on leave as I’m sure you’re aware, I’ll be your new doctor till she comes back” he doesn’t turn to you, or acknowledge you’ve spoken and you hesitate. He just keeps writing, back overly straight, like he needed to be any taller.

“How’s your day been Sam?” You ask trying to get him to communicate with you, but he just ignores you.

“Well it was nice meeting with you, I’ll be back around 3 to catch up some more ok?” You say but still get nothing. You turn on the privacy screen and stare down at your tablet with a frown, Grace did mention he didn’t speak or make eye contact, you assumed he’d respond some way and not straight out ignore you. Every case was different you guess.

You head back to your office write down somethings about your first meeting wondering how you should go about this. It will be difficult if he continues ignoring you, hopefully he was just having a quiet morning.

He was not having a quiet morning, he was having a quiet week. He didn’t acknowledge you once even when you greeted him first, he didn’t startle, didn’t glance or look to you at all even when you’d wait for him to finish his meditating. You tried to speak to other doctors about what could help, but they didn’t say much, then again it was probably some weird you weren’t old enough to be a doctor thing or wouldn’t understand it as some older generation doctors have told you. It was a Monday morning when you walked in again, he was meditating once more and you decided to head inside his room. The guard gave you the all clear and the door opened for you to step in. You greeted him quietly as you watched the door close before looking to him. You didn’t expect him to have his eyes staring at you wide with his jaw tense.

“Sorry for coming in suddenly I did say though” you tell him as you hold your tablet close. You watch his nose flare as he breathes deeply watching a frown crease his brow. You frown slightly also thinking back to this morning when you put deodorant on, did you smell? You try to subtly sniff yourself and fail when you catch nothing but muted alpha smell and muted omega smell. It was a requirement in the faculty for all in the faculty to use a scent blocker. Maybe he didn’t like the smell of muted omega, seeing as he’d been around them most his life, on the other hand you feel as if he should be thankful for no over powering omega smell, you know you would be.

“May I sit with you?” You ask gesturing beside him and he gives one curt nod. You find relief in that and go over to his desk.

“Can I put my tablet here?” You ask looking back to him but he’s closed his eyes and put his head forward. You shrug to yourself laying it neatly as you can before going to sit in front of him. He doesn’t open his eyes or acknowledge you as you sit a meter away from him on the uncomfortable cold floor. You cross your legs the best you can, straighten your back and let out a small sigh as you close your eyes.

There’s no noise, beside your soft breathing and his, perfect silence. You think to your apartment, you didn’t make your bed this morning, then again you didn’t go to bed till four in the morning. You should also vacuum your house, the place was dirty from you being busy all the damn time, hell you swear Cobalt complains every time his little paws walk over the floor. Hm, you could go with some Cobalt cuddles, nice fluffy grey fur through your fingers, his purring in your ear, warmth in your lap. You smile at the thought, peeking an eye open seeing Sam perfectly still, his breathing is slow and steady. You close your eyes again wondering what he’s thinking about, does he go through memories, to loved ones or is it blissed silence that you find hard to get in your mind. You’re jealous for two seconds at that thought till you hear him move. He sits up and you follow suit less gracefully as he lifts his hands above his head and stretches out his body. You do the same hearing your arm crack and wince at the noise. Sam glances at you briefly, eyebrow slightly raised before he goes over to his desk. You follow him to remove your tablet before he sits down and begins to write. You smile to yourself and head to the door before it opens and you step out, you call that progress.

Another week passes, you find out when Sam starts meditating and head in just before he sits on the floor to sit with him. You both sit there for thirty minutes though you find it increasingly hard to focus and sit still while the alpha in front of you sits like a rock unmoved and sturdy. You wonder how he does it honestly. Then he gets up, stretches, your bones stop cracking after a few days thankfully, then he goes to his desk and writes. You’re going to ask him if you can bring a second desk in, so you can sit and write with him also. You’re on the way to his room but there are a few guards out the front, a red light above his door. You head into the privacy screen area and flick it off. You gasp at the sight, the chairs are turned over, the table is broken his crayons and papers are everywhere, his bed is messy and bloodied, the wall is also bloodied where he keeps punching it. You can’t hear the other doctors or guards as you raise your voice.

“Let me in!” You say to one of the guards. The older doctor tries to stop you but you’re already opening the door and stepping in. You shudder at the change in the air, god. He keeps punching the wall despite his bloodied knuckles, despite the sweat on his body. How long has he been doing this? Surely they would’ve tranquillised him.

“Sam” you call but he doesn’t stop.

“Samual” you try stepping a little closer. His jaw is so tight you fear he’ll break his teeth if he doesn’t relax his jaw.

“Sam?” You try again going into his space. You rest a hand on his arm and he swings around fist just by your face before something passes over in his eyes. He recoils, looks around the room in a panicked state, he begins to shake as he backs against the wall and slides down.

“Sam, Sam it’s ok, we can fix all these things and have them replaced ok?” You say as a few guards come in.

“Take the desk and chairs out if you can” you say to them and they nod grabbing the broken desk and taking it out. As they do that you sit in front of the alpha who’s gripping his hair tightly and breathing heavily.

“Sam” you say softly and his eyes dart to yours.

“What happened?” You ask relaxing your body so you don’t appear tense or let him see how fast your hearts beating. His mouth opens and closes as you added his hand, it looks horrible and requires medical attention.

“Your hands look pretty bad, we’re going to need a medical personnel in here to treat them, is that ok?” He nods quickly and you sigh in relief looking to the privacy screen as one of the doctor nods and gets on the phone before you look back at Sam.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” You ask as he watches the guards take the couch seat out.

“I-“ he says and your heart leaps at the single letter.

“Memory’s” he mutters and you nod understanding.

“To your past?” You ask and he nods as the medical member walks in.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Philips, is it alright if I take a look at those hands?” The medical doctor walks in and you shuffle a little out the way ready to stand when Sam’s hand reaches out and holds your wrist. Those in the room tense as you stare at his large hand around your wrist. He breathes heavily eyes wide in panic and you settle by him more out the way so the doctor can help.

“It’s alright, I was just moving out the way” you say letting him hold your wrist before the Philip comes over. Sam nods eyes darting between you and Doctor Philip’s before focusing on Doctor Philip’s solely as he begins cleaning his free hand. Sam holds your wrist the whole time his right hand gets cleaned, tensing sometimes when things hurt or when the numbing needle went in. You’re thankful for the mobile doctor package the medical team receives here.

“I’ll need your other hand now” Doctor Philips says as he finish bandaging Sam’s right one. Sam looks to you and you smile at him and he lets go of your wrist hesitantly before giving it to the doctor. You let out a small breath looking to your lap as you try to settle your heart and ignore the tingling in your arm.

Next part ->

#Sam Winchester x reader #Sam x reader #alpha Sam x omega reader #feral au #x reader #aob #spn #alpha Sam Winchester

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 6 months ago

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 30

MASTAPOST

huge thanks to brekitten again for betaing uwu

Despite Damian complaining of the smell, Danny personally thought his new outfit was very comfortable, at least compared to the alternatives. At some points their little nature walk along the road brought them close to the river they’d swum up to get to the locks. They could’ve easily jumped in if they wanted, but the presence of GiW boats in a narrow passage made it a very unappetising option.

They also didn’t know what his human form looked like, but they did know about siren human forms in general. Once they realised the canal itself was empty, they would very likely transition into hunting him on land. Then there would be problems.

Danny picked up the pace. Jogging was easy when you could ice over your overheating muscles from the inside, a technique that had fascinated and disgusted his friends. To their right, the remains of the canal shipyards, and to their left, a large hill covered in trees and foliage overlooked the water. Wind rustled through the leaves and blew through his clothes. Ah, to be clothed at last. What a luxury.

As they walked, the boys made idle commentary on the scenery, including sardonic comments at the presence of a golf club on the hill.

“I should hope they do not punt any balls into the water.”

“I dunno. Could be a fun challenge. Imagine doing a hole in one across the canal!”

The shade was nice too. Even the air felt cooler underneath the trees. As they rounded the corner of the mountain, their next issue made itself known.

A car drove past them, only to stop and slow down at a check point manned by, who else, the GiW. At some point Danny was seriously questioning the Panamanian government. If he were in charge, he would definitely not let the US government just run roughshod over his country’s infrastructure. That being said, it probably wasn’t the first time the government fucked things up in South America, as Sam’s many rants had led him to learning.

Danny ran his finger along Damian’s forearm, earning a hiss from the kid. He slathered the mucus over his ear, turning it into its siren form.

“Shush. Lemme listen.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Sorry ma’am. We’re with the US government. We’ll need to inspect your car for any siren contraband or smuggling. We’ll also have to test you for mind control.”

With that, another voice seemed to repeat the command in very apologetic Spanish. It seemed their translator was about as unhappy with the arrangement as the poor civilian.

“Tt. Amateurs.” Damian muttered.

Then came a very rapid series of what he believed was swearing from the driver, an older woman. Oh. He didn’t need his ears to notice the sandals smacking into the agents. Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little.

It wasn’t like the blockade would do anything! There was a whole-ass hill right beside him.

“How were these people ever a threat to us?” Damian muttered. He hissed at a stray branch jabbing into his ribs, batting it away.

“Probably all the money the government throws at them to buy weapons. From my parents.” Yeah it kinda said a lot that the only reason they were any issue at all were because of his parents.

Damian stiffened. If Danny weren’t holding him so close, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

Danny hiked into the forested hill. Great thing about clothes, Damian, is that they protect your very soft human skin from being sliced up by thorns and branches and other sharp shrubbery. “It’ll be fine. I’ve beaten these clowns a dozen times before.”

“With allies, and a healthy body. And in the water. Be wary.”

Danny grinned. “But I still have my powers!”

“Tut. Be wary. Triumphant pride precipitates a dizzying fall.”

“Hah! How many dictionaries did you consume to be able to say that?”

“Five. And I do not consume books, I read them, unlike you and your sullen species.”

“I am literally human right now. And I read plenty of books.” Comic books, in fact. But that addendum didn’t stop the (invisible) smirk on his face. Comics books are literature too! Even if the canon keeps getting ruined every few years.

Damian began another retort, only for the forest to fill with alarm blares. The sounds overlapped and pounded in Danny’s ears. “What happened!?”

He was in human form, they couldn’t detect- Wait. He slapped himself in the face. It was Damian. They’d detected Damian’s signature. Fuck.

“The forest covered up their smell. Dangit. The one time they weren’t wildly incompetent.”

His head snapped to the side, then he turned around. Nobody yet. Damian growled. “We need to get moving.”

“You can say that again.”

Danny wove through the branches amidst rising shouts, and alarms that continued to sound. He caught a glint on the side of a tree. One ice spear was all it took to take out a sensor. More still screamed.

“Behind you!”

Danny dove to the floor. A shot whizzed past his head. His body creased leaves and pressed the dirt.

“There’s the specimen! Take it down!”

Several more guns whined. Danny rolled to the side. He got up in seconds. The dirt exploded behind him. Three more shots fired into a tree, causing it to creak and groan.

Damian squeezed his arm. “Throw me,” he whispered.

Danny’s face went slack. “What?!”

“There are only two of them. They do not know my identity, and they have weapons.”

Yeah them having weapons was a very good reason not to throw you at the racist government agents, Damian! “You’re crazy.”

“The Atlanteans underestimated me similarly. Now hurry!”

Another two agents flanked them on the other side. Despite his reservations, Danny was forced to admit the kid had a point. “Fine, but be careful!”

Danny stepped back. He threw his arms over his shoulders, Damian’s waist held tightly. With all his strength, he hurled him like the screaming ball of fury and spite that he was. The boy flashed into visibility. The agents behind him screamed girlishly, a fact that he wished he could have recorded.

Instead he squared his shoulders at the two in front of him. It was G from earlier and another guy. Hello misplaced aggression. The goons cried out, preparing to fire on Damian. While the kid was still on top of their friends’ faces!? Well, friendly fire never stopped them. Danny flicked two beams. One froze the trigger on G’s gun solid, scoring half his hand as a bonus. The other got his friend’s gun muzzle. The agent pulled the trigger anyway, and was rewarded by scalding hot metal shards to the face for his troubles.

Danny’s eyes glowed steely black and blue. He fired off another salvo. His attacks bound their wrists and feet to the ground. At the same time, his nose tickled with a coppery odour. The screams of the men behind him reduced to pained sobbing.

“I am returning,” Damian declared. Danny had about half a second between that warning and the kid slamming onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck again. The extra weight almost knocked him off his feet.

“What the heck are you carrying?!”

The skin around his ears shivered. A gun charged right over his shoulder. Damian nailed a reinforcing agent in the shoulder. “A new acquisition. Now move!”

Only Damian. Only Damian.

So the stealthy approach wasn’t working out amazingly. By the time Danny had cleared the forest, and lost his pursuers, there were about a dozen men lying on the dirt in various states of pain. Danny jogged past the now-unmanned barrier, wondering if there was really any point to sneaking around.

Damian panted over his shoulder. They needed to stop for another water break. His friend wouldn’t last long without one. And he was feeling the fatigue of keeping his powers up already. He’d need another snack soon.

“We cannot afford another confrontation. It was lucky we had the advantage in terrain, and they squandered their numbers by walking in one by one. The next fight may not be as fortunate.”

It was an apt time to say that, seeing as their presence had definitely not gone unnoticed.

A large white truck barreled through the road, giving Danny an honest to god heart attack. He dashed behind an electric post without thinking. Luckily it hadn’t noticed him, but the road ahead reeked of further agents. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were checkpoints along every road and intersection from here to the beach.

“Like seriously. There’s no way Panamanian government could be happy with this. I’m not going crazy, right?”

“This will likely be an international incident, especially if my plan is to go through.”

Danny suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “What plan?”

“It is simply the most logical way to proceed. As I said, we do not have the resources to fight many more battles. At some point, we will be encircled, and either be captured or severely injured.”

“So what’s your plan, then?”

Damian laughed. It was not the joyful, innocent laughter of a kid his size, but rather a cackle fitting a demon, or some sadist coming up with creative ways to inflict pain on his victims. Danny got very, very worried.

“Wrench!” Dad called out. Jazz pulled one out of the toolbox and handed it over.

“Nope, wrong tool. I need the, uhh the thingamajig.” Without a beat lost, Jazz passed some fiendish contraption meant for measuring hydroplasm levels, name still pending.

“Thanks Jazziepants.”

For a man who’d been insistent on keeping her in bed or out of any hard work, and whom had been specifically instructed to do so regardless, her father’s willpower was very weak when subjected to Jazz’s arguments. That was what led her to sitting in the engine room with her father, watching him put the hydroplasm back into working levels. She felt a little bad about making her dad spend so much time, but what guilt she felt would have been outweighed a thousand-fold by the pain of seeing her brother in their parents’ grasps.

Now she needed to know the direction of his heart.

“Dad, are you ok?”

He shrugged. “I’m ok as ever, Jazzie.”

“You’ve been worrying.”

Her father yanked out a faulty wire. “What kinda dad wouldn’t be? When I was a kid, my grandpa Fenton told me one day, I’d be the man of my own house. I’d protect my wife and my kids from those gosh darn delinquents of the deep. Of course, I ended up finding a lovely wife who’d protect me just as much as I her, but,” He swallowed.

“It’s ok. I’m here for you, Dad. Is it something to do with the interrogation?”

“Jazzie, look, I don’t want you to worry.”

“But it’s bothering you, right?”

Her dad’s boots arced inwards, like he’d clenched his toes. “Our only lead was Phantom. That’s the whole point of this trip. But we got him, and he wouldn’t spill. And I didn’t know what to do.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Nobody got hurt. But your mother… I’m sorry, it’s not something you should be hearing.”

Her father’s voice went uncharacteristically serious. No! She didn’t need protecting. She needed information.

“Dad, you and mom have been dreaming of capturing a siren for years.”

Her father’s body went still for a moment. He quietly screwed in a bolt. “I know. It was nothing like I’d ever expected.”

“In a good way?”

“I thought he was gonna fight. Or throw snark at us like the fish felon he is. It was what our research told us what would happen. But it didn’t.”

She said nothing, her silence prompting her father to continue.

“Jazzie, he… cried. And suddenly I realised that Phantom looked like a kid. Like Danny’s age.”

“That young?” Jazz said with fake surprise. “Do you think he still could’ve done it?”

“I don’t know. But he must be involved, somehow. In any case, we’ll still have to pursue him.”

Jazz leaned in closer. Her father’s goggles were off, which gave her an unblocked view of his eyes. Just like her mother, they faltered with hidden speculation with doubt. The relief made her cry, almost. “There’s no guarantee, Dad,” she whispered.

Her father sat up from the creep. He stretched his arms out, and pulled her into an embrace. “I promise we’ll figure something out. Your brother’s got the might of the Fentons in him.”

‘Specimen Phantom is in disguise. Be on high alert. Nobody is above suspicion.’ Agent H hummed. That damned fish freak. Crawled its way out of the water the moment trouble hit. Now everyone was mobilising. Agent H shut off the radio, having heard enough.

Frankly, he’d had enough of this damned country and the heat. He’d been got by at least three mosquitoes already, and this brief respite in the truck was all he’d get until another six hours spent underneath the tropical sun, looking for a damn slippery siren.

He hoped Phantom would turn into fried fish before he did. Goddammit.

That was not to mention the freaking local police, who’d been harassing them all day about their tasks. Ignorant locals. How could they not notice the threat lurking right under their noses? Without the help of his organisation, the Canal would’ve been wrecked, then who’d have the final laugh? Definitely not Panama.

“Be on high alert, H.” Agent I said. “Specimen Phantom and its accomplice just took out squad A in the trees.”

H turned to her. “And why aren’t we assisting them?”

“Squad B’s taken care of it. We need to cut of the specimen’s escape, before it reaches the open ocean.”

H scoffed. “We have enough manpower, I. These sirens are smart enough to get around us. We need to hunt the specimen actively.”

“And you need to follow orders, Agent H. The local government’s only barely tolerating our presence as is. One wrong move and there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”

Agent H grumbled.

“Do you understand, Agent H?” Agent I ground out.

“Yes, ma’am. I-”

Agent H was unable to finish his sentence. He slammed the brakes. He and Agent I jerked forward in their seatbelts as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a gruesome sight. In the middle of the road, two wooden stakes were erected. Blood stained the road at the base of them. Strung up to the stakes were two familiar uniforms.

“Agent G! Agent F!” He cried out. Agent H tore off his seatbelt. He snatched his hydro gun and rushed out. His blood ran cold. How dare that- that- that monster!?

“Agent H! Get back here!” His superior ordered. He ignored her. He needed to-

Agent H was right in front of the wooden stakes when he realised his error. What looked like G’s soft brown skin and F’s paler tan from afar became patchy, holed. It was no human, but a kind of mocking imitation made from dried reeds and branches.

That meant- Shit.

Agent H had no time to react. Brilliant blue blasted him across the road. He struggled, cursed, tried to reach his communicator, but his efforts were for naught. The ice bound his wrists together like concrete. In the corner of his eye, he saw Agent I put up just a few more seconds of fight, before a barrage of hydro beams took her down too. That was their weapons!

Shame burned his skin hotter than the tropical sun. The dirty, evil sirens opened the door to the truck, invisibly. He could only watch helpless as a trapped rat as the truck kicked into full gear.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #mermaid au #angst #jazz fenton #jack fenton #mer!danny #mer!damian

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