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lixiepeach · 11 months ago

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Fascination

Summary: It’s not love, he muses as he stares down at you. He could never bind himself to such a temporary thing as yourself. Lust, perhaps curiosity, fascination even, that’s brought him to desire you in such a way, that’s entangled you both. He allows himself a moment of tenderness as he brushes the hair stuck to your forehead, his lips pressing softly against yours. You lean into him, fingers brushing the tip of his ear as you trail your hands through his hair.

Pairing: Thranduil x human!reader

Warnings: NSFW, explicit smut, p in v sex, fingering, sort of rough sex, unprotected sex (because of elf magic), no aftercare, interspecies relationship, reader is more of a paramour than anything, Thrandy is a bit obsessed, sort of a toxic relationship depending on how you look at it, it’s not love it’s lust, Thrandy is also a bit egotistical and elitist but what do we expect?

A/N: Thought up this one a while ago whilst in the middle of some thots and decided to just write it since it wouldn't leave me alone. Not my first time writing for LOTR, but it's been quite a while. Might consider turning it into a series if there's enough interest...Anyway, I hope there's enough of a fandom left to enjoy it and that I'm not screaming into a void right now.

MASTERLIST

His eyes trace your form as you lay sprawled in the grass, asleep and entirely unaware. It speaks volumes of your trust, the ease with which you simply exist in his world as you nap in the warm afternoon sun. It’s amusing to him the way you lay there, one arm over your head, the other draped across your stomach, chest rising and falling slowly and evenly as your mind takes you far off into your dreams.

His eyes trace your face, features he’s well acquainted with after hours upon hours of studying them. He connects the colored dots on your skin with his eyes, his gaze following the slope of your nose, the softness of your brow in your relaxed state. His fingers twitch at his side, longing to brush across the warmth of your skin but he stays his hand in fear he might disturb you. He’s not ready for you to be awake yet.

He would gladly stare at you all day, his little mortal.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt desire churning in his stomach, the twisting deep within as he gazes at another. Yet, here he finds himself feeling that warmth in his stomach as he gazes at a simple mortal woman. He had tried to brush it off as simply a fickle thing, many ages of loneliness finally beginning to wear upon him. It wasn’t as if he was without offers. Many brave elleths had approached him, brazenly offering their company in hopes of earning his affections, and even perhaps winning his heart. He had always turned them away, first in pain then in spite. He had ignored the disappointment and shame as he glanced over them, always looking through them, never quite seeing them.

Then you arrived.

It wasn’t often that the race of men graced his halls. He so rarely interacted with men, preferring to send envoys on his behalf the rare chance it happened. You had come not by choice, instead brought in on the brink of death after being rescued by his guards from a nest of spiders. Sick with poison from a bite, you had been in a terrible state upon your arrival, but had made a quick recovery thanks to the talent of his healers.

He’s not sure what it was about you that piqued his interest. You were no one of any sort of importance. A simple human from one of the woodsman villages on the borders of the forest, a mere mortal woman that would have lived and died in a blink of his eye had you not by chance strayed from your path and fallen into the traps of the foul nuisance that was the spiders. Yet as you stood there, nervous before him as you thanked him, offering your life in debt for your rescue, he couldn’t help but stare. He wasn’t looking through you as he so often did others, no, he was seeing you.

Perhaps it was because you saw him. Not the crown, not his status, not the promise of what he could give or the things he had the power to do. You were staring at him. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought perhaps you could see past the carefully crafted illusion and straight into his very being.

That had been weeks ago, and still you linger in his halls at his insistence.

You’ve offered no complaint, brought up no desire to return to your life in your village. There has been no longing in your gaze for your home, no far off look as you thought of your little house where you dwelled alone. He had felt the strength in your hands, the calluses on your fingers that spoke of a life of hard work, of fending for yourself. His fingers often traced the marks on your skin, remnants from accidents and close calls. He’s never bared his own scars to you, and he likely never will.

He continues to stare at you as you sleep, your form illuminated by the golden light of the sun. He wouldn’t go so far as to call you ethereal in its light. You lacked the luminance of elves, though you seemed to glow in a different way. There was something so tangible about you, the life that was almost teeming from you as you smiled, the pure joy in your laughter, the profoundness of your sympathy, the intensity of your stare. You carried the weight of your emotions so plainly, though perhaps that was what it meant to be mortal. The understanding that you had so little time, that your life would end eventually.

He has lived ages before you, and he will live ages after you.

He can no longer ignore the churning in his stomach, the twitching of his fingers, the desire burning hot within him. His fingers trail along the line of your jaw, ghosting down the side of your neck that’s bared to him as your head is turned just slightly to the side. The sun has warmed you, the heat pulsing beneath his fingers. He takes in the texture of your skin, soft for a mortal but not quite as smooth as an elf’s. The corner of his lips lifts upward as goosebumps form on your skin, his eyes drawn down to your chest as his fingers trace your collarbones. You shift in your sleep, his hand pausing until you settle again.

He allows his fingers to follow the neckline of your dress, the fine silk draped across your body in a way that accentuates your curves deliciously. You’re not built like an elf, no long lines and hard edges. You’re all soft curves and rounded edges plainly evidenced by the way the silk clings to your body even as you lay completely relaxed.

You shift once more as his fingers brush the tops of your breasts, your mind beginning to wake. He watches the way your nipples pebble as he teases the sensitive skin of your dress, pressing against the thin fabric keeping them hidden. He loves how sensitive and reactive you are to him, your lips parting in a gasp as he thumbs over one of your hard nipples.

Your eyes are glazed with sleep still as they flutter open, squinting in the sunlight. Your movements are sluggish as you shift below him, stretching your arms over your head. You remind him a bit of a cat as you stretch, letting out a quiet groan.

He lets his hand slide up your chest to your neck, his thumb brushing the line of your throat. “Good afternoon, little one.”

“I fell asleep.” You murmur, awareness beginning to come back to you as you stare up at him.

A smile tugs at his lips, the fondness that he felt for you rising above the desire for a moment. “You did. Quite quickly, I might add.” He says. You have a habit of dozing easily, needing far more sleep than an elf. “Perhaps I am to blame in part for keeping you up so late into the night.” He teases, heat blooming beneath his fingers on your skin.

You have the gaul to look bashful under his gaze, as if you had not captured him under your spell. You make him feel powerful as he looms over you, raw energy pulsing through him like lightning at the thought of how vulnerable you are, how vulnerable he is. How easily you had captured him, how easily life had begun to flow through him again at the sight of you. His blood runs hot, fingers trembling at the thought of how easily you could end him.

One day you will.

He forces the thought from his mind, pressing his thumb against your lips. You press a soft kiss to his skin, your gaze meeting his. You already know what he wants, why he pulled you from your blissful sleep. Your body shifts as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You still taste of the wine served at lunch, sweet and earthy with a hint of something else, something that was just simply...you.

His hold on your neck tightens just slightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh. You gasp quietly against his lips, his head tilting to take advantage of your reaction. His tongue invades your mouth, tangling with your own. You sigh into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair. It’s bold, but he allows it, far too focused on his attempt to devour you with his lips.

He shifts his body over yours, your knees parting for him like your body was welcoming his proximity. You are as your hands slip through his hair, silky strands sliding through your fingers. It’s his turn to gasp into your mouth as your fingertips brush the sensitive tips of his ears. The sensation shoots straight down his spine, his back arching into you. He pulls away from your kiss-plump lips, mischief shining in your eyes as you stare up at him. Your fingers flick the tips of his ears again, his eyes fluttering as a groan is pulled from his lips.

“Naughty little thing,” He groans, leaning down to nip playfully at your bottom lip.

Your giggle turns into a sigh as his lips abandon yours to taste your skin, his hand slipping under the skirt of your dress. He can smell your arousal, the thick, heady scent corrupting the fresh air of the gardens. He could get lost in the scent, bury his face in it until it suffocates him. He has lost himself in the scent and taste of you, many surfaces having been defiled by his need. He fights the urge to shove his face beneath your skirts and tease you with his tongue until you’re nearly unconscious.

No, he needs something else from you today.

His hand trails up your leg, pushing your skirts up with it. His fingers close around your thigh, sinking into the flesh. You let out a quiet sound as he digs his fingers into you, hard enough he knows you’ll bruise. He loves how easy it is to mark you, and he loves how long those marks linger on your skin. His rings bite into the sensitive flesh, but you offer no complaint. Instead your head drops back, bearing your throat to him. He bites at the skin of your throat, his tongue laving across the stinging marks his teeth leave behind.

You’re practically boneless under him and he has yet to touch you, your hands rumbling the fabric of his shirt as you hold on to him for dear life. He often wonders what it feels like to you, if his touch electrifies you as much as your touch electrifies him. You’ve never known the touch of a mortal man, you had confessed to him, though it wasn’t due to a lack of suitors.

You had never explained why, though, you had refused the many offers of eligible men over the years. Perhaps it was for the same reasons he refused the willing elleths who propositioned him.

Or, perhaps deep down you knew no mortal man would ever be enough.

He draws himself from you to sit up on his knees, his hands pushing the fabric of your skirt the rest of the way up until it’s pooled around your waist. You’re bare beneath the dress, damp folds on display for him as he takes you in. You are beautiful in the way mortals are, like flowers would be to trees. You’re especially beautiful like this, laid out beneath him shameless and needy. You had been shy at first to his advances, but now you served him without question, without hesitation.

How eager you were to serve your king.

His hand trails from your hip to your stomach, feeling the hitch in your breath as he dips his fingers lower through rough curls before he finds exactly what he needs. Your lips part in a gasp as he brushes your pearl, the scent of your arousal strengthening as he begins to touch you. His thumb brushes over the sensitive bud, watching your face as your eyes get heavy and dark with need. He knows exactly how to play you, exactly how to make you tremble in his arms.

He’ll take his time with you later. Right now, he needs his own release.

You let out a quiet sound as two of his fingers sink into your heat, your body opening up to him. Much time he has spent teaching your body to open to him, to accept him, to be ready for him. As much as he enjoyed the roughness, seeing just how far he could push your little mortal body, as much as he enjoyed taking out his anger and his frustrations on your body, he never wished to hurt you. Many hours had been spent with his hand between your legs, bringing you to the edge but never quite letting you peak.

Not until he was satisfied.

His hand presses into your stomach, holding your hips still as he languidly pumps his fingers in and out of you. Your walls are slick with arousal, gripping him like a vice. His fingers are thick and long, reaching deep inside you, far deeper than you could ever bring your own fingers to. You had tried, you had shown him how you pleased yourself. He wondered how often you had done it in his Halls, how often he had been the one in your thoughts as you brought yourself to your release with your fingers.

He’s forbidden it now, you touching yourself, bringing yourself pleasure. That was his job. It would be only his fingers that you knew, that would bring you to the point of release now. Now matter how dripping with need you are, you’re his. His to pleasure, his to take, his to find release with.

Sometimes he’s not quite sure who is truly in charge. If he commands your body and your mind, or if he’s the one wrapped around your little finger.

You buck against his hand as he curls his fingers, drawing a quiet moan from your lips. There’s no need for silence out here. You’re deep enough in the gardens the guards won’t be able to see anything, and they know by now to close their ears against what their king does in his private moments.

“Please, please My King.” You beg, oh so sweetly.

He stares at you, the sweat beading on your brow, your swollen lips parted as your chest heaves for breath. Your thighs are trembling, hands twisting in the grass beside you. You’re dripping onto his hand, the wet squelch of his fingers like music to his ears.

“Tell me what you need, little one.” He says, the deep timbre of his voice edged with a needy rasp. He’s hard, nearly throbbing beneath the constraints of his pants. He’s far more patient with his own pleasure. He knows it’s coming, he knows you’ll let him take what he needs.

“I-I need...” You stammer, eyes rolling in pleasure as he curls his fingers. A whine leaves your lips as he drags his fingers across that spongy spot inside you. “I-I need you. Please, My King.”

He hums appreciatively at your begging, your desperation. You truly are desperate, he can feel it in the fluttering of your walls around his fingers. He’s not done with you yet, though. His lips lift up in a smirk as he watches you, your gaze locked on his. “Am I not giving myself to you? Are my fingers not enough for you?”

“No!” You whine, thighs trying to close around him as you get closer and closer to release. “I-I need...I want to feel you!” You cry out, greedy in your desperation. “I want you inside me!”

He basks in your begging, your neediness, your shamelessness. He was going to give it to you anyway, and you know this, but you also know he wants to hear you, to see you beneath him, begging him desperately.

He truly wants to believe he is in control.

He pulls his fingers from your folds, lifting them to his lips. You let out a quiet whimper as his tongue darts out, licking your juices from them. You’re musky and almost tangy on his tongue, not unlike a rich wine. He wants to savor you like a wine, but his own neediness is beginning to itch in the back of his mind. He’s beginning to feel his own desperation, his own desire to sink into your warmth and stay there for the rest of eternity.

He releases you enough to free himself from the constraints of his pants, his hand wrapping around his thick length. You tilt your head so you can see him, eyes focused on him as he pumps his length in his hand. Your legs fall open, completely relaxed as you bare your weeping folds to him. He has the desire to praise you, but he holds his tongue. He does not wish to go to that place right now.

Right now he needs release, the sweet release only your body can give him.

You welcome him as he sinks into your body, arms wrapping around him as he presses himself against you. You relax yourself around him as he sinks into your warmth, the wide head of his length spearing you open. You offer no complaint if it’s uncomfortable, only clinging to his tunic as he lets himself rest over you for a moment. Your legs squeeze around his waist as if you’re trying to draw him deeper into you, as if you might fuse his body into yours.

He allows a moment of tenderness as he kisses you, tasting your lips again. You hum into his mouth, walls squeezing around him as if telling him you’re ready, you’re waiting.

You are waiting for him.

He draws his hips back, slow and steady as if he was unsheathing a blade, letting you feel every inch of him as he withdraws from your walls to just the tip of his length. You let out a cry as he presses back into you, reaching as deep as he can, until your hips are flush with his. You cling to him as he sets his pace, rocking into you steadily. There will be grass stains on your dress, but that won’t matter. You’ll change before dinner, wearing something more extravagant as you dined with your king.

Not that you’ll be wearing whatever dress you choose very long. He has every intention of taking you to his chambers tonight and picking you apart piece by piece until you are nothing more than a whining, writhing mess on his bed. Then he will take you apart further until your eyes flutter and your breathing shudders and you dangle over the precipice of unconsciousness as he brings you more pleasure than you ever thought you could feel at once.

That is for later, though.

Right now, he needs to ease the aching desire deep within him, the beast that you reawoke within him. He keeps his pace steady, sharpening the snap of his hips into you. You’re whining and moaning against him, hands clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you on this plane of existence. His blood burns hot within him at the thought of being needed, of being desired so carnally.

You’re growing close to your release, your thighs trembling around his hips. Your cries are loud in the gardens, lost in your pleasure as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. As much as he’s fueled by his own need for release, he wants you to fall over the edge first. He wants to see you lost in your pleasure, even if just for a moment.

He pulls back enough to stare at your face, eyes closed in pleasure, lips parted as you moan. His hand grips the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are dazed with pleasure, glossy and blown with lust. His fingers dig into your skin, your pulse thrumming under his thumb. Your skin is hot, slicked with sweat from the exertion. He fights the urge to taste it, to lick at the saltiness of your skin, to taste you on his tongue.

Later, he reminds himself.

“Let go.” He grunts, his breath fanning your face. “Let me feel you.”

Your eyes roll back as if he has that much command of your body, your legs tightening around him as you reach your peak. Your walls flutter, tightening and releasing around him, the mechanics of nature to draw him to his own release.

He lets himself go, burying his face in your throat as he spills into you. His body trembles with yours, length twitching as he fills you with his release. For a moment, just a fraction for a second he imagines it, his seed taking root, a half-elven child that takes after you. He wrenches the thought from his mind as if it’s a burning ember, refusing to allow such a daydream to take over his mind.

He pushes himself up to his elbows, staring down at you. His hair curtains around you, soft locks caressing your skin. You're breathing heavily, chest still heaving beneath him. Your eyes are lidded, face nearly as relaxed as it had been when you were sleeping. Your skin is still slicked with sweat, strands of your own hair sticking to your skin. You look ruined and he has barely begun.

You look beautiful.

It’s not love, he muses as he stares down at you. He could never bind himself to such a temporary thing as yourself. Lust, perhaps curiosity, fascination even, that’s brought him to desire you in such a way, that’s entangled you both. He allows himself a moment of tenderness as he brushes the hair stuck to your forehead, his lips pressing softly against yours. You lean into him, fingers brushing the tip of his ear as you trail your hands through his hair.

Fascination, that’s all it is, he tells himself as another shiver runs down his spine.

(I know I had a taglist a long time ago but it's been so long since I've written anything for this blog I'm not even sure if there's anyone on it anymore. I'm willing to put one together though if there's interest...)

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #thranduil x reader #thranduil x human reader #elf x human #x reader #fanfic #lotr fanfic

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lucidlivi · 5 months ago

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she calls me daddy now

popping in with the supernatural/true blood crossover you didn't know you needed!

Warning: not suited for minors, strong language, sexual innuendos, sex, slight threesome, violence, blood, gore, major character death, blood drinking, blood draining, mentions of death, staking, vampire burning, major angst, heartbroken Dean

I will be working on other prompt requests soon but I had this idea and didn’t want to lose it, I hope you guys love it as much as I do!

A switch in viewpoints will be indicate in bold italics

Reader

"Fangtasia? really?" I snort glancing at the boys beside me.

"Leeches with a sense of humor.. great." Dean grumbles.

"So much for mainstreaming, Louisiana has one of the highest disappearance rates in the country... 346 people in this last month alone. You and I both know what really happened to them." Sam says looking at the news article on his cellphone.

"And you're sure we're going to find help here?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"I mean there has to be some sort of order to things, even for vampires.'" I shrugged.

"And since we're not scoring a date with the vampire queen , one of her pawns should work just fine." Sam said as I watched the eager humans line up to get in to the famous vampire bar.

It's been years now since vampires exposed themselves to the world.

Of course we already knew of their existence.

However, with the invention of synthetic blood the vamps decided they wanted to become part of society, mainstream they call it.

It took the world by storm.

People were lining up to meet and more disgustingly volunteer to get bitten by a vampire.

It was sickening.

As you can imagine this did not go over well with the hunting community.

It was a question on everyone's mind.

Could vamps really change?

Could they be functioning members of a society?

In Louisiana the answer was no.

"I still don't like this." Dean growled as we took our place in line for entrance to the bar.

"No one does, but we have to try to work out some sort of treaty, some sort of peace between us and them, too many people are dying." Sam said.

Oh Sammy.

As if peace between vampires and humans was possible.

We were a meal to them, nothing more.

I could feel Dean's anxiety pushing in to me, making me anxious.

I grabbed his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. He was quick to lace our fingers together pulling me closer to him.

He instantly calmed a bit.

Dean and I had an interesting relationship.

Sam, he was like my annoying little brother.

But not Dean.

Dean and I shared a connection that went deeper.

He and I just got each other.

We weren't what you would call a thing though.

A hunter's life didn't afford us that privilege.

I knew that no matter what we would always look out for each other and if something were to happen to one of us, the other would never be the same.

It was a terrifying feeling in our line of work, since a brush with death was a daily occurrence for us.

As we got closer to the door I slipped my hand from Dean's.

I could see a lady at the door taking ID's, and from her too straight posture and her perfect looks I could tell she was one of them.

I had seen a vampire or two in my lifetime so they were easy for me to spot.

I felt the air shift as we got closer, causing me to pull my leather jacket tighter around my body.

"ID." she ordered extending her perfectly manicured hand towards me, her eyes focused elsewhere.

I sized her up, trying to guess her age. If I had to I'd say definitely over 100 years old.

She looked experienced, which is how you could tell a vampire's true age.

After a moment of stillness she finally glanced up meeting my eyes.

She glared at me, as if I was beneath her.

I simply stared back at her.

She flashed her fangs willing me to fall at her feet in submission.

I could feel Dean tense behind me, ready to pounce if needed.

"ID." She ordered once again with a southern drawl.

I gave her a forced smile, pulling out a fake ID card.

If she knew it was fake, she didn't say anything, just let me pass. Sam and Dean were let in without showing ID much to my annoyance.

As soon as we were past the rope, the woman at the door disappeared.

I could smell the stench of sex, sweat, and booze as the doors to the bar opened.

If I thought the name was ridiculous, the inside was even more ridiculous. It was decorated in reds and blacks, really selling the vampire theme.

I scoffed at the patrons who were clad in leather and lace. It was like they were proud to be flaunting their flesh for the bloodsuckers.

Perhaps though the most ridiculous and tacky thing was the throne in the middle of the stage overlooking the bar.

My eyes traveled up the throne before connecting with a pair of icy blue ones.

Suddenly it was as if I was being pulled into some sort of trance.

His eyes boring into my own.

I quickly broke eye contact taking a moment to take in his other features.

A mess of blonde locks lay on his head.

His jaw perfectly defined along with his other facial features.

His hands that were gripping the arm rests of the throne, large and lethal.

He was frighteningly tall, even taller than Sam, and he was basically Bigfoot.

It was however the smirk that played on his lips that made my blood boil.

He knew what I was, just as I knew what he was.

A vampire.

Just the pawn we were looking for.

I noticed the perfect blonde woman from the door suddenly at his side, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

I could see her glance in our direction.

She was trying to be discreet but I was on to her.

She was warning him.

Warning him about us.

I didn't get to see anything else as Dean pulled me towards a booth in the back.

I took this moment to study the people.

It was sickening seeing so many vampires and humans mingling like they weren't bloodthirsty monsters, and the humans eager to be their next meal.

"So I think the big blonde guy is who we need to talk to." Sam said looking between me and Dean.

I rolled my eyes.

Is he serious right now?

"Really Sam what gave you that idea huh? The throne in the middle of the stage? The way all the other vampires flock to him? Or, or maybe it’s the fact that he's glaring daggers at us right about now." I sassed feeling the blonde's eyes burning me from behind.

"Okay so what's the plan then, I don't think he's going to talk to us willingly." Dean said ignoring my attitude.

"Well maybe not us." Sam said pointing between himself and Dean.

Dean looked around seeing the blonde man's eyes devouring my form.

"No absolutely not." Dean interjected quickly.

"Dean, it may be our only shot I seemed to have peaked his interest." I said turning my body fully towards him.

"We can figure something else out then, this is reckless and you know that." Dean growled.

"I know but I don't think we have that kind of time, people are dying Dean, people we swore to protect." I shot back.

"Yeah well I swore to protect you." Dean gutted.

"So then protect me." I said rising from my seat.

Dean was not happy, that much was evident on his face. I couldn't focus on that right now though. I was doing this.

I took a deep breath straightening out my jacket.

I slowly approached the throne, center stage.I could see people eyeing me with envy. I was only focused on the vamp, whose eyes grew more curious the closer I got.

I was about to take another step but was halted by another man, who I could tell was also a vampire.

"Sorry no one speaks to Mr. Northman without his permission." He growled at me.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes at this.

Who the hell did this vamp think he was, god?

"Chow, let her through." A strong voice spoke.

It didn't take me long to figure out it came from the vampire on the throne.

The man grumbled something under his breath before stepping to the side.

I took another deep breath striding in front of the blonde man.

"Mr. Northman I presume?"

"Please, call me Eric, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" He smirked.

I thought for a minute if I should make up some fake name.

"And mind you I can tell if you're lying." He added, somehow reading my thoughts.

"y/n." I offered only my first name.

"What I can I do for you y/n?" He asked interested, as if I was going to offer him my neck.

"I think you know why we're here." I stated crossing my arms in front of myself as if it would put more distant between me and Eric.

"Yes unfortunately , it was only a matter of time before you hunters showed up."

"We wouldn't have to if you leeches kept yourselves in check." I bit back quickly.

"Well aren't you sweet." Eric smirked.

"Yeah not really."

I knew I should probably watch my tongue in a bar full of vampires. However, when my anger got the best of me, I couldn’t control the things that spilled from my lips.

"You have no idea who you're talking to do you?" Eric laughed, standing to his full height.

He towered over my short stature easily.

I wouldn't let him intimidate me though which is exactly what he was trying to do.

"So enlighten me then Mr. Northman."

"I'm a thousand year old viking darling, I'm not threatened by you or anyone for that matter."

"I'm not here to threaten you, I'm here to help you." I retorted quickly, acting unfazed by the declaration of his true age.

My statement resulted in another laugh from the viking vampire.

"Help me? Now what in that pretty little head of yours makes you think I need, or want your help." He whispered menacingly, clearly trying to threaten me.

I would have been a little more afraid had I not noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows as he spoke.

He was worried about something.

My guess, pressure from his boss to solve his little vampire problem.

Order.

Creatures couldn't function without it.

I couldn't fight the smirk that made it's way to my face.

"I think you're worried, 346 bodies is a lot of bodies to hide, I mean we know that they didn’t really disappear did they? Also isn't it your job to keep all these vampires in line? I'm guessing a bunch of rogue vampires going on a killing spree doesn’t exactly fair well with your boss." I taunted.

I knew I pushed it too far when his fangs popped out with a click.

He quickly wrapped a hand around my throat causing Dean to shoot up, pulling out his gun loaded with ultraviolet emitting bullets.

If Eric saw him, he was completely unfazed by his actions.

I gave Dean a look, telling him to wait before he starts blindly shooting in a room full of vampires.

I could handle myself well, Dean knew as much.

“Don’t you tell me how to do my job.” he growled his hand squeezing a little tighter around my throat.

"Do your job then." I spat, pushing him a little further.

Eric then looked deeply in my orbs as his glazed over.

He spoke in an enchanting voice.

"Now you and your little gang of hunters are going to leave my bar, but before you go, you're going to let me taste you while your boyfriend over there watches me."

I knew what he was trying to do.

He was trying to what they call "glamor" me.

Get in my head.

Control me and my thoughts.

No man controls me.

"No offense Mr. Northman but you're not really my type." I managed to squeak out, his hand still squeezing my throat.

Eric quickly released my neck with a confused look.

"Why can't I glamor you?" He growled in frustration.

I quickly turned around, pulling my shirt up slightly so he could see the anti-possession tattoo in the center of my spine.

"Turns out this isn’t just for demons, works for your mind tricks too. Eric this is my final offer, let us help you or we're gonna handle things our way, and then you'll have a lot more bodies to dispose of. We’ll be in town, it’s your choice." I threatened before turning away from the vampire.

I could tell he didn't take kindly to my threats but he didn't retaliate surprisingly, given his nature.

I could see the relief wash over Dean's face as I returned to his side.

"Looks like we aren't getting his help, let's go." I said knowing full well Eric could still hear me.

Dean tucked his gun away roughly grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bar.

I could tell by his face that he was trying his best not to explode.

He was irate.

As soon as we were in the impala the floodgates opened and all hell let loose.

"Wow you've done a lot of stupid shit in the past but that has to be the most fucked thing you've ever done, what the hell were you thinking?" Dean growled.

I wasn't sure if it was directed at Sam for suggesting I talk to Eric alone or me for actually doing it.

“Dean come on it’s…” Sam started but Dean quickly cut him off.

“Stay out of this Sam.” Dean growled.

I guess now I knew it was directed at me.

“You can’t be serious right now?” I scoffed at his behavior.

“He could have snapped you like a twig, you gave him every opportunity.” Dean snapped.

I knew this was his way of saying he was worried about me but l didn’t like how he was going about it.

“I can handle myself.” I said with an eye roll.

“I mean what was your plan exactly? Badmouth him until he sinks his fangs in to your neck? You had no plan going up there, that was so irresponsible.” Dean continued.

“Yeah well he didn’t hurt me did he?” I scoffed.

“Your lucky he didn’t, you just act without thinking about the consequences.” He retorted.

“Yeah well sometimes you think too much and don’t act.”

“At least you don’t have to continuously save my ass!” He growled.

“Ugh would you stop treating me like a child!” I said my voice rising along with my anger.

“I will when you stop acting like one!” Dean yelled.

I rolled my eyes again, sinking back in to the seat. I was done talking about this. It was no use anyways.

I knew Eric wouldn’t hurt me.

I don’t know how I knew, I just did. He wouldn’t admit it but he needed our help.

I was extremely thankful to be pulling in to the motel parking lot. I jumped out of the car before Dean could bring it to a complete stop, slamming the door in a fit.

I could hear Dean throwing open his door and quickly striding up to catch me.

“We are not done talking about this.” He growled grabbing my wrist.

“I am.” I seethed snatching my wrist from him.

I walked in to my separate motel room, slamming the door in his face.

God!

Dean didn’t usually yell at me, I had no idea where all this was coming from.

"Fuck!" I screamed, before quickly stripping my clothes wanting to wash away this evening and everything it brought.

I turned on the shower, steam instantly filling the bathroom.

I stepped in, the hot water relaxing my tense muscles.

What the hell was up with Dean?

Why was he acting so, so possessive?

He knew I was strong enough to handle my own, yet he was treating me as if I were some stupid kid walking in to the lions den unprepared.

I knew how to kill vampires, this wasn’t my first rodeo.

I was angrily scrubbing my body and hair, too caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t hear my motel room door opening, or the bathroom door for that matter.

I washed the shampoo from my hair before noticing Dean’s presence. It made me jump but only momentarily. He was standing on the other side of the shower curtain, his shoulders slumped over.

“I said I was done talking about it Dean.” I bit quickly.

I was expecting him to start yelling at me again, tell me how stupid I was being, but Dean didn’t say anything instead just stayed quiet.

"Dean?" I asked softening my tone.

Dean was never quiet.

Only when he was in his head about something.

Like I said we just got each other.

It was a moment before he spoke.

“You have no idea how worried I was for you, fuck y/n why do you care so little about your life when to me it’s everything?” Dean said, his voice being overtaken with emotion.

My breathing stilled at his words. I felt tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

Dean wasn’t the vulnerable type, never admitting how he was truly feeling, but here he was laying it all out.

Before thinking I flung open the shower curtain looking at him. His eyebrows were creased with worry and hurt.

I suddenly felt extremely guilty.

I didn’t want to hurt him.

That was the last thing I wanted to do.

Dean was my person.

I jumped out and flung my arms around him, soaking his t-shirt. He didn't seem to mind much as he wrapped his strong arms around me holding me tightly to his body.

I buried my head in the crook of his neck, allowing a few tears to cascade down my cheeks. His hand found its way to the back of my head stroking my wet hair.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I spoke quietly.

Dean’s hand traveled down to the back of my neck, pulling my head up so he could look in my eyes.

Dean and I didn't need words to convey our feelings.

Our eyes alone did just that.

I could feel the heat spreading to my core as his eyes devoured me hungrily.

Dean and I didn't cross this line often.

In fact only once before.

It was a dangerous line to be flirting with.

But in this moment, I didn't care.

Dean didn't either, for a moment later he was crashing his lips on mine.

His lips had a petal softness to them, but he kissed like a man that had been starved for months.

I balled his t-shirt in my fists pulling him impossibly closer. Dean's hand gripped my neck harder as if I was about to float away and he was the only thing holding me down.

I broke away but only briefly to suck in a harsh breath.

Dean pulled me back in again, devouring my lips.

He kissed me as if I was oxygen and he was dying to breathe.

I couldn't help the breathless moans that fell from my lips as I felt Dean's trapped erection on my already burning center.

I wanted more.

Needed more.

"Dean." I panted, hoping he would catch on.

Dean didn't bother teasing. He picked me up quickly kicking the bathroom door open, before gently placing me on the run down motel bed.

He was quick to dispose of his shirt.

I trailed my eyes down his body.

Dean was the kind of handsome that got into my bones, that spoke to me before he'd even said a word.

I licked my lips as I admired him.

I sat up on the bed, not being able to stop my self from placing my lips on his perfectly chiseled jaw. He let out a guttural sound as my tongue worked down to his neck, kissing and sucking, marking him as mine.

He quickly disposed of his jeans, freeing himself at last. He gently pushed me back down hovering his body over mine.

Dean looked at me as if he applied too much pressure I might break.

He trailed his hand down my body painfully slow, stopping to brush gently over my aching core. I sucked in my bottom lip to try to stop the needy whine that wished to escape but I was too late.

I needed to feel him, all of him.

Dean leaned down once again kissing my lips tenderly.

"I promise." Dean whispered pulling away gently.

I shook my head in confusion.

"Promise?" I breathed out.

"I promise to make up for all the years I was supposed to be kissing you." Dean rasped.

I felt my eyes prickle with tears.

I grabbed his head bringing his lips back to my own.

I don't think I'll ever get over the feeling I get when kissing Dean, it was warm, it was safe, it was everything I needed, because with Dean, sometimes kissing felt like healing.

Dean grabbed his erection, slowly rubbing his tip up and down my folds, torturing me with pleasure.

He grunted pushing himself through my slickness all without breaking our hungry kiss.

Dean thrusted at a tortuously slow pace, hitting my sweet spot with every movement. Dean buried his head into my neck, heavenly groans fell from his lips.

I moaned a little louder with each slow thrust.

I couldn't take anymore, I rolled my hips up meeting his.

Dean pushed himself even deeper, causing a sensual whine out of me.

"So pretty when you're whining for me."

I could barely think straight from the fire burning in my veins. I closed my eyes digging my nails slightly in to his skin.

“Oh fuck Dean right there.” I moaned feeling my orgasm making itself known.

I could feel myself clenching around him causing him to cry out in pleasure.

“Good girl baby, cum for me.” Dean whispered in a husky voice.

His tone and praise alone was enough to have me soaking his length, my walls contracting all around him.

Dean began to thrust harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. When his rhythm became sloppy I knew he was close.

Dean gave one last deep thrust before I felt white hot spurts of liquid coating my still sensitive walls.

Just when I thought Dean couldn’t get more attractive, here he was looking like a god as he groaned, riding out his orgasm.

I could cum again just from the sight of it.

Dean slowly removed himself, satisfied when his seed spilled out coating my thighs.

"I think you're gonna need another shower." Dean smirked.

Yep.

Dean was back.

I was about to make my usual snarky comment but a loud knocking on the door got my attention.

I thought it might be Sam coming to check on me, he has been on the receiving end of Dean’s wrath more than once.

I threw on a shirt and some sleep shorts before peeling the door open slowly.

I was not prepared to see Eric Northman behind it.

"You know for hunters you really need to cover your tracks better, wasn't all that hard to track you down, not with that sweet aroma you carry around." Eric smirked pompously.

I could hear Dean shuffling as he rushed putting his clothes back on.

He was suddenly at my side ripping the door open and glaring down the viking vampire in front of me.

It was the first time I saw them toe to toe.

Eric was definitely taller but Dean was unfazed by his size.

Dean was nothing to mess with either. He was lethal in his own right, and had more blood on his hands then he liked to think about.

"Now if you're done fucking your play thing, I'd like to talk." Eric said completely ignoring Dean’s threatening demeanor.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

Oh god he heard that?

Of course he did, fucking super hearing ability.

"I think that opportunity has passed, we're no longer interested." Dean growled slamming the door but Eric’s vampire speed won out and he caught it seamlessly.

"If you could do me a favor sweets and calm your guard dog here, I believe you and I can help each other." Eric said once again ignoring Dean completely.

"I thought you said you didn't need or want my help?" I finally spoke, feeling my anger rising again.

"Oh don't be smug, it's humbling enough having to come to a breather for help." Eric said rolling his eyes.

I could feel Dean stiffen beside me.

He didn't trust Eric that much was obvious.

I didn't trust him either.

I was realistic though, and I knew our odds would be better with him on our side instead of in our way.

"Hypothetically speaking of course, let's say I was still interested in helping you, what then?" I inquired.

Dean growled from beside me.

“Excuse us for a moment." Dean said through clenched teeth, shutting the door, this time Eric allowing him to.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath preparing his lecture but I quickly cut him off before he could deliver it.

"Look before you yell, let's be realistic here, I think we're in way over our heads and having Eric on our side instead of in our way is an asset, even if I don't trust him, keep your enemies closer right?"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed knowing he couldn't argue with my logic.

"You were mad before because I didn't have plan, this time I do." I promised.

Dean placed a gentle hand to my cheek pulling my lips to his.

He knew Eric would be listening behind the door.

He wanted to make it known I was his.

I would definitely have to unpack this situation later.

Dean removed his lips resting his forehead on mine.

"Fine we can talk." Dean reluctantly agreed.

I gave him a small smile as I opened the door, seeing Eric standing there looking completely uninterested in Dean's show of affection.

"So then let's talk." I said nodding my head at Eric.

"Just you, no offense but I don’t think your guard dog will fit in with where we’re going, also you might want to shower first, if you’re going to be with me I can’t have you smelling of another man, and one more tip try not to look so much like a hunter, I’ll be back in thirty.” Eric ordered before speeding away.

“Fuck this, no way in hell am I letting you go anywhere alone with him.” Dean said.

“The idea doesn’t thrill me either but I’m just going to need you to trust me.” I said quickly going towards the bathroom.

Dean didn’t say anything instead followed behind me sulking. He shed his clothes stepping in the shower after me.

He huffed pouting as he took his hand washing his seed away from my body. I moaned as his fingers dipped in my folds cleansing me.

“I can trust you if you promise me you won’t do anything reckless, I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt and I wasn’t there to help.” Dean said.

I quickly turned around facing him.

“I promise you Dean, nothing reckless.” I said standing on my toes to place a soft kiss to his mouth.

I finished washing myself quickly, then stepped out and towel dried myself.

I looked in my suitcase trying to find clothes that didn’t scream hunter. I settled for a sundress, this made me look more innocent, more naive.

Exactly thirty minutes later on the dot their was another harsh knock at the door. I took a deep breath opening it. Eric stood smirking behind it, clearly trying to provoke Dean. He let his eyes drift up and down my form very noticeably.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you almost look normal.” Eric joked, that ever present cocky smile still on his face.

Dean wrapped a protective arm around me.

“I swear if you fucking hurt her..” Dean started but Eric cut him off.

“Down boy, she’ll be fine, besides I already ate this evening, though I wouldn’t say no to some dessert.” Eric taunted him.

I rolled my eyes at the pair.

I quickly turned around grabbing Deans shirt bringing him in for a feverish kiss.

Dean smirked in to the kiss hearing Eric sigh in annoyance.

I pulled away letting a hand linger on his cheek.

“I’ll be back.” I assured.

I turned towards Eric ignoring the arm he offered me.

“Well after you.” I gestured.

I saw the the expensive bugatti now parked outside my motel room.

A little over the top I thought, although I guess when you’ve been alive for so long your wealth is vast.

Eric smirked at Dean as he opened the passenger door gesturing for me to get in.

I gave Dean one more soft look before climbing in.

Eric zipped around clambering in the drivers seat. He peeled out of the motel at inhuman speed, making me grip the seat.

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked annoyed.

“A tribunal meeting.” Eric simply answered.

“A what?”

“You people really don’t know anything do you?” He jabbed.

“Look if that’s how this is going to be you can just take me back.” I said rolling my eyes.

“You know your cute when you pout.” Eric laughed.

I rolled my eyes again ignoring his flirtatious comment. He was trying to get under my skin, and he was doing a damn good job at it.

“Listen just stay close to me, and don’t talk to anyone but me.” Eric said glancing at me.

“Eric..”

“No this is serious okay, for me to keep you safe you have to listen to me.” He said.

I glanced at his eyes, and for a moment just a moment I saw some of what I believed to be sincerity. It made him almost seem…. human.

“Fine.” I grumbled.

He pulled in to a field in the middle of nowhere.

I really wasn’t thrilled with this idea now.

I took a deep breath feeling the silver dagger Dean slipped in to the waistband of my underwear. It wasn’t much but it could help me out, give me some leverage.

Eric got out zipping around to open my door.

I got out of the car looking fully at the scene.

There were a few other vampires there, most looked pretty ancient. It wasn’t their looks per say, but their demeanor, the way they carried themselves.

I saw a few humans too, one vampire was openly feeding on a girls neck. If I had eaten I was sure it would come back up at the sight. The worst part is the girl moaned as if she was enjoying it.

Eric smirked as he wrapped an arm around my waist leading me towards the group of vampires.

"Remember what I said, be a good breather and keep quiet." Eric said.

"Fuck you." I cursed under my breath knowing full well Eric would hear me.

Eric's presence instantly got the attention of a man dressed in an expensive suit.

"Eric welcome, and who is this lovely thing you've brought with you, she smells delectable."

"Easy now magister, she's mine." Eric said.

His?

Oh hell no!

"Yours the fu.." I started but Eric quickly clamped his hand on my mouth.

"My apologies sir, quite the mouth she got on her, though it does come in handy." Eric joked.

I nipped at his hand covering my mouth as if telling him he was really pushing it.

"If you'll excuse us sir.." Eric said leading me away from the man.

As soon as he took his hand off my mouth, I raised my hand to strike him but he quickly caught it.

"Yours? What the fuck was that!? I am not now, nor will I ever be yours!" I growled.

"It's my way of protecting you, it's an unspoken rule for vampires that we can't harm or feed from another vampires claimed human, now that I openly claimed you, nobody can touch you or they have to deal with me."

I was still pissed at him but I shook my head in understanding.

"These guys, they're the authority?"

"Well sort of, we work for them, that guy was the magister, the judge of my kind, if you will. The others are area sheriffs like myself, we keep order in our area, and we're all here to talk about our little problem." Eric explained.

"And the humans are privileged to this information?" I questioned.

"No, you’re here to satiate us, but it doesn't matter what they hear they'll just be glamoured to forget, but since you can't be glamoured you better be good at acting." Eric said.

I nodded my head finally understanding.

I would be the only human to remember this meeting.

He was giving me information, leverage.

Eric was about to say something else when the magister cleared his throat getting the attention of all vampires present.

"Now stay close to me, and for fuck's sake act like you can stand to be near me." Eric whispered once again wrapping a cold arm around my waist.

I knew if Dean were here right now he'd be furious at Eric for even daring to touch me in such an intimate matter.

In fact Dean would probably kill him first and ask questions later.

Eric was right, Dean definitely wouldn't have fit in here.

I didn't fit in here.

I grumbled, leaning in to Eric's side, cozying up to him.

I had to pretend.

It might kill me.

But I had to pretend.

I could feel Eric's stupid smirk without seeing it.

"Stop enjoying this." I growled causing a chuckle to fall from his lips.

"Sheriffs, it's great to see you, unfortunately I wish it could be under better circumstances. You all have been gathered here because as you know your state has managed to gain the attention of the authority, and I can tell you they aren't happy. You were put in a position to keep order, lay low, push the movement along, so please someone tell me why it's a goddamn circus out here?" The guy who I now know as the magister yelled.

I could feel Eric tense beside me, his arm getting a little tighter around me.

I could tell the magister was in a significant position of power even without Eric telling me so.

"Sir it's the newborns, they're insatiable, unsupervised." One vamp spoke up.

"And who's fault is that, isn't it your job to handle problem vampires?"

"You wish us to kill our own’s progeny's?" Another quipped.

"Do you dare defy my order?" The magister threatened.

"No sir."

I was taking in all the new information.

It seemed that new vampires were being made, "progeny's" and being left unsupervised after their creation.

It was not only reckless, it was cruel.

"Well maybe the humans have it coming, all they've ever done is hunt us down and lynch us." A vampire beside us spoke.

I glance at him.

He was tall, not as tall as Eric but tall none the less.

He clearly thought he was holier then thou.

I guess he hadn’t come face to face with hunters yet.

"I mean we do kind of deserve it." Eric spoke, surprising me a great deal.

I didn't think he was capable of any compassion towards what he calls “breathers.”

"Wow I can't believe my ears, Eric Northman, the ruthless viking prince suddenly gets himself a human bitch and now he's mr. mainstream?" The vampire spoke turning and taking a step towards us.

Eric let out a warning growl.

"I would watch your next words sheriff, I’m not known for my patience." Eric said baring his fangs.

His hold on me got tighter, if that were possible, I was already trapped against his body as it was.

I could feel the tensions rising as both vampires hissed at each other.

I took my hand squeezing Eric's.

I was surprised when I felt him calm slightly.

It was a simple gesture that always worked for Dean, and seemingly Eric too.

It was a little way of wordlessly saying “I’m here, I got you.”

"ENOUGH both of you! Eric’s right, we all knew coming out of the coffin there would be risks involved, if you can't keep order the authority will come and eradicate your regions."

Eradicate?

As in kill them all?

I was all for killing vampires, but that seems a little excessive.

I worried for Eric.

Wait.

What the fuck am I saying?

I don't worry about vampires.

Vampires are nothing but killing machines.

They don’t have feelings.

Or do they?

I don’t know what I believed anymore in this moment.

"With all due respect magister this is complete bullshit." the previous vampire spoke again.

I could see the magister getting visibly angry.

"We are apex predators, the top of the food chain, and you expect us to just lay down and take it from a bunch of blood bags?" He continued.

I could feel myself getting heated at his words.

He was the epitome of the vampires we killed.

No regard for human life whatsoever.

"We don’t take it, we learn to control ourselves there’s a difference." The magister corrects.

He was all about pushing the mainstreaming movement along, that much was clear, but he could care less about humans as long as all killings and feedings were done in secrecy and done so as not to draw too much attention.

He was just another two faced authoritarian, pushing something he could care less about.

"You and the authority are out of your goddamn minds if you think..." He started.

In an instant the magister zipped over to him, producing a wooden stake before driving it straight through the vampires heart. The vampire exploded sending guts flying everywhere.

Eric quickly turned us around so I wasn’t hit by the debris but he was.

I let out a shaking breath as blood splattered the side of his face.

I didn’t think I would be getting this close to vampire politics tonight.

I was officially over it.

Eric looked in my eyes as if assuring me everything was alright.

The magister wiped some vampire guts from his suit before turning back to everyone.

“I think we’ve all learned our lesson yes?”

No one dared to speak so the magister continued.

“You,” he said pointing at one vampire, “clean up this mess’ and you,” he said now turning to Eric who was cleaning the blood from his face, “glamor your human and then come with me.”

Eric turned to me giving me a look, guess now it was time to put on an act.

How does one even act glamoured? A mindless zombie I guessed.

He stared at me with that glazed look in his eyes, the same one from the bar. He also had something else in there, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was; mischief maybe?

Next came his enchanting voice.

“y/n.”

“Yes.” I spoke quietly as if I was under his spell.

“Nothing happened here tonight, you don’t remember any other vampires being here, you don’t remember anything that was said, do you understand?” Eric ordered.

“Nothing happened here.” I repeated.

“Good…” Eric smirked pompously. “Now kiss me and wait in the car like the good little breather you are.”

I felt my insides boiling.

What the hell was he doing?

He knew I couldn’t say no to him.

It was either that or blow my cover to the magister.

I trusted my skills but not enough to take out an ancient vampire with a simple silver dagger, not while so many others were around.

I realized I was already taking too much time to think. If I didn’t act soon it was over, I was made.

I glared at Eric with furious eyes before leaning in.

He grabbed the back of my neck joining our lips.

I kissed him back with much reserve but he didn’t seem to notice.

He however kissed me gently to my surprise.

In fact he was kind of good at kissing.

What the fuck?

Shut up brain!

This was a vampire for fucks sake!

I willed the moment to be over but Eric was taking his sweet time tasting my mouth.

As we were kissing I tasted something metallic on my tongue.

I knew that taste.

Blood.

I swear if he bit me, I don’t care who’s watching I’ll kill him.

I was confused when Eric pulled away and it wasn’t my lip that was bleeding but his own.

It was his blood?

I quickly turned around walking back to his car as instructed.

I was trying to soak in all the information.

At least now we knew what we were up against.

A bunch of unsupervised baby vamps.

Great.

Eric came back moments later getting in the car. I held my breath until we were far enough away from the field before speaking my thoughts.

“I don’t understand, why are there unsupervised baby vampires allowed to run amok, they need to be taught, isn’t that a little cruel, illegal?”

“It’s unfortunate not every vampire has such a responsible maker.” Eric answered.

“And your maker?” I wondered.

I heard the vampire call Eric a viking prince, I wondered just how he came to be what he was now.

He hesitated a moment before he spoke.

“Godric, he’s gone, he saved me from dying on a battlefield.”

I scoffed a little catching his attention but kept my comment to myself, further annoying Eric.

“Go ahead, say what you want to say.” Eric pushed.

“I don’t know how he saved you, making you crave blood to survive, making you a slave to the night, making you practically immortal, I mean that has to be really lonely, eventually everyone you know will be gone and then it’ll just be you.” I said glancing at him.

“It’s a good thing I don’t care for mortals then.”

“I don’t believe that.” I quipped.

“And I don’t believe you actually hate vampires, I saw how you reacted when the magister spoke of the authority eradicating our regions.” Eric pushed back.

“About that, can they actually do that?” I asked.

If vampires had enough power to eradicate entire regions I think we had bigger problems to worry about then a bunch of baby vamps.

“Yes, they can and they will if the problem isn’t solved.” Eric said slowly pulling back in the motel parking lot.

“So what do we do about it so that doesn’t happen?” I asked turning my body towards him.

“We?”

“Just shut up, and tell me!” I said rolling my eyes at him again.

“I guess the only thing we can do, go on a hunting trip. If we can’t control them we have to eradicate them.” Eric said.

“Alright we’ll be ready then.”

“You and your dog can meet me at fangtasia tomorrow night, sunset, we’ll formulate a plan from there.” Eric nodded.

“Sunset.” I confirmed turning to get out of the car.

“Oh Eric, one more thing.” I said turning back around.

Before he could realize what was happening I balled my fist, sending it flying in to his nose. I heard a satisfying crunch as it connected.

“ If you ever trick me into kissing you again, I’ll kill you myself. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smirked getting out of the car.

“You broke my nose!” Eric yelled out the window.

“Eh your a vampire, you’ll heal.” I shrugged, glancing once more at him.

“I know I’m a vampire but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He growled pushing his nose back in to position.

“Goodnight Eric.” I called one final time.

Eric rolled his eyes before peeling out of the parking lot, the sound getting Dean’s attention. He flung open the door pulling me to his chest. He inspected my body for any signs of injury but found none.

“Dean it’s okay, I’m okay.” I said placing a hand on his cheek.

I took him inside telling him everything that happened.

Well almost everything.

I left out the kissing part.

It would just further cause problems between the two, and besides I handled it.

He groaned when I told him we’d be seeing Eric tomorrow night.

He didn’t want to work with him but he agreed with me, that if we didn’t take care of this little problem we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands, i.e. an authority of ancient vampires that could eradicate entire populations.

“It’s nearly dawn, we should get some sleep.” Dean said stroking a hand through my hair.

I looked at Dean’s face, he had a slight crease in his forehead that only showed up when he was worrying about something.

“Dean what is it?” I asked.

“Who’s to say we don’t help him and then he turns right around and tries to kills us? I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.” Dean says sincerely.

“I know your worried but I don’t think he’ll try anything, he needs our help, besides he had every opportunity to kill me tonight, but he didn’t. Instead he gave us some pretty valuable information, which I’m suspecting he could get staked for if someone found out.” I said my mind traveling to the blonde haired vampire.

I had no idea why he was on my mind right now.

“Are you concerned for him?” Dean asked a look of jealousy and disgust on his face.

When I didn’t answer immediately, Dean continued.

“He’s a killer y/n, a leech, you can’t seriously be worrying about him?” Dean growled.

“I’m not.” I told a half lie.

“What is it then?” Dean pushed.

“It’s just everything might not be as black and white as we think that’s all.” I said trying to carefully chose my words.

“I mean they drink human blood to survive how is there any grey area in that?” Dean retorted.

“Some of them didn’t ask for this life, you know they thought they were being saved..” I trailed off thinking of the story Eric told me of his creation.

“It doesn’t change what they are.” Dean said.

I shrugged my shoulders. I guess he was right. At the end of the day they would still be feeding on humans to survive.

We were prey to them.

“I think we should get some sleep.” I said leaning up and pecking his lips quickly.

Dean was not satisfied with how we ended things but he didn’t push further to which I was thankful. Instead he pulled me in closer so my head was laying on his chest.

I felt the exhaustion starting to take a toll on my body, and the darkness starting to envelop me.

I reached my hand up to touch Dean but was surprised to feel the space empty.

Suddenly fingers were hooked in to my sleep shorts pulling them slowly down my legs. I groaned as lips kissed tenderly up my thigh, making my core burn with pleasure. I cast my eyes downward, meeting a pair of green ones.

“Dean.” I moaned as his head dipped down, his breath fanning over my center.

I didn’t know how Dean slipped down there without me noticing but right now I didn’t care.

Instead of devouring me like I wanted, his lips trailed back down to my thigh.

I could feel my blood pumping with need and desire.

“Beg me for it.” Dean commanded.

Didn’t need to tell me twice.

“Oh god please Dean.” I begged running my hands through his hair.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain in my thigh.

I gasped looking down but instead of Dean, Eric was there with extended fangs, licking blood off his lips

What the fuck is going on?

Am I dreaming?

I’ve got to be dreaming.

A million questions surged through my head.

How?

When?

Why?

“Eric?” I blushed trying to hide my body from him.

“The femoral artery, like the jugular if pierced wrong can cause you to bleed out in mere minutes.” Eric said licking my thigh.

I looked down realizing blood was seeping out from too little pin pricks. I could feel my heart start to race but it wasn’t from fear… rather excitement.

What was wrong with me?

Was I turned on by this?

“It is indeed the best place to draw blood, so pleasurable and not just for me.” Eric said dipping his head back down, sinking his fangs in to my thigh.

I threw my head back with a moan as Eric drank my blood. His long fingers trailed up my thigh, dipping in to my folds that were already slick with arousal.

Oh god this was so wrong.

But it felt so good I didn’t want to stop.

But Dean?

Fuck!

As I was about to push Eric away, I felt lips against my neck, a hand trailing down my shirt to play with my hardened nipples.

I sat up a little seeing Dean now behind me.

Okay now I know I am in fact dreaming. These two can’t even be in the same room together, let alone take turns pleasuring me.

Eric removed his fangs and started to devour my core, his tongue working expertly up and down my folds.

“Oh god.” I moaned, biting my lip.

Dean trailed his fingers down further and started rubbing circles on my bundle of nerves, making my body writhe with pleasure.

“Mmm such a good girl, wouldn’t you agree Eric?” Dean whispered with a husky tone that made my legs shake.

"Mmm, the best girl.” Eric said removing his mouth from my folds momentarily before diving back in.

I felt the coil in my stomach winding tighter and tighter, begging to spring free. The sensation of Eric devouring me with his mouth while Dean worked me with his fingers was too much to bare. I was so close and then….

I sprang up, gasping for air.

The room was still dark, however sunlight started filtering through the curtains.

I guessed it was just after sunrise.

I looked to my left seeing Dean sound asleep. Eric was nowhere to be found.

“Of course not dummy, he’s dead during the day” my brain screamed at me.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead trying to calm my racing heart.

Why in the fuck would I dream of Eric pleasuring me?

Dean makes sense but Eric?

Eric?

A thousand year old vampire?

What the fuck was wrong with me!?

The worst part is he bit me, he bit me and I enjoyed it.

I deduced I was in need of some serious therapy and counseling.

I took a few deep breaths before laying back down next to Dean. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours before finally succumbing to pure exhaustion.

I woke up to a hand running through my hair. I was hesitant to open my eyes, my dream still at the forefront of my mind.

I was relieved when all I saw was Dean.

“It’s almost sunset.” Dean said placing a soft kiss to my forehead.

I groaned in response causing Dean to laugh.

“I’m not looking forward to this either.” Dean said getting out of the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

I sat up stretching my limbs. I was dreading having to face Eric after the impure dream I had about him.

I was still struggling to understand why I was dreaming about him in that way. I mean sure he was attractive, but he was a monster and I was the one who hunted him.

I didn’t realize how long I sat there in my head until Dean was coming out of the bathroom freshly showered.

I quickly collected myself so I didn't look like a mess.

Dean could NOT find out about this.

I rushed in to the bathroom turning on the cold water. I splashed my face a couple times trying to calm my shaking hands.

Fuck.

Get it together.

I stepped out getting dressed for the night. Dean was already ready to go, reloading uv bullets in both guns.

“Sam?” I asked lacing my boots.

“He’s keeping the police off our backs for now, he’ll meet up with us later.” Dean said tossing me my weapon.

I grabbed some colloidal sliver as well as a couple silver daggers.

“Alright, let’s do this.” I sighed.

Dean grabbed my hand pulling me to his chest.

“If shit goes down, you get out, and I’ll come find you.” Dean said placing a gentle hand on my cheek.

“You and I both know that isn’t happening, we’re in this together, until the end.” I said looking deeply in his eyes.

Dean leaned down capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

I wished desperately we could just stay in this moment but that was a fairytale and our lives were anything but. It was more like a constant nightmare if you asked me.

Dean pulled away giving me a silent nod.

It didn’t take us long until we were sat in the fangtasia parking lot.

“If he tries anything, I will kill him.” Dean said pulling the safety off his gun.

“I know you will, you’ve only been chomping at the bullet to since we’ve met him.” I said mimicking his actions.

Dean shrugged knowing I wasn’t wrong. I saw the blonde lady from before opening the door. I guess that was our invitation to go in. I tucked away my gun, climbing out of the impala.

“Oh great they’re back.” The blonde lady spat sarcastically.

“It’s nice to see you again too.” I bit back.

“Pam, play nice now, these humans are here to help us.”

I gulped as soon as I heard his voice.

My mind flooded with the images of him tucked between my legs, my blood dripping off his fangs.

Dean must’ve noticed my unease. He put a hand on the small of my back giving me a reassuring pat.

I pushed past the blonde lady, Pam I now knew was her name, and I walked in to the empty bar. It sure looked a lot different with the lights on. Eric once again was sitting on his ridiculous throne. He smirked at me as soon as our eyes connected.

Dean was quick to catch up with me.

He stood so his shoulder was slightly blocking me from Eric.

“So what’s the plan?” Dean growled.

“Oh no formal introductions, straight to the point huh.” Eric taunted looking at me.

“Eric please, save the jokes, let’s get this over with.” I sighed.

“I for one had a great time last night.” Eric smirked.

I glared at him, silently telling him to shut up.

Dean didn't know about the kiss, and if he found out now, he'd kill Eric and then maybe me.

“Well except for that little part where you broke my nose.” He said.

As he said this the blonde lady flashed her fangs at me. Dean immediately shifted pulling his gun and aiming it at Pam.

“Pam stand down.” Eric commanded.

Pam was protective of him, that was abundantly clear.

I was starting to put the pieces together.

Pam was his progeny.

He created her just as Godric created him.

Dean slowly lowered his gun once there was no threat to me anymore. He gave me a incredulous look as I hadn’t told him that part of the story.

“It looks to me you healed just fine, now please let’s get on with it.” I sassed him.

“As you wish, follow me.” Eric said standing from the throne.

“Where?” Dean quickly ordered.

“What you don’t trust me?” Eric taunted him.

“I don’t trust bloodsuckers no.” Dean retorted.

“Ha, I could snap you in half in just a matter of seconds” Eric threatened.

“I’d really like to see you try, give me a reason to fry you.” Dean growled cocking his gun.

Ugh these two were incorrigible.

“Ok enough of the dick swinging contest are we doing this or not?” I asked rolling my eyes at the men.

I could see Pam for once in agreement with me.

I gestured for Eric to show us what he wanted to. He walked down a hallway leading us to a stairwell.

“Is this your dungeon or something?” I joked.

“Yes.” Eric answered seriously.

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

“You first.” Dean growled not trusting Eric to go behind him.

“Guests first, I insist.” Eric said opening the door.

“Seriously?” I groaned, pushing past both men, and starting to walk down the steps.

I heard footsteps following behind me, they weren’t heavy like Dean’s so I knew they were Eric’s. He was close behind me.

I felt a chill run down my spine the closer he got.

“So, tell me y/n have any good dreams lately?” Eric whispered in my ear.

I about lost my footing, as my face went pale.

He knew?

How the fuck did he know that?

I quickly pulled myself together, I wouldn’t let him get under my skin.

“Yes in fact, Dean was in all of them.” I bit back.

“I bet he was.” Eric smirked.

I could hear some low growling sounds as we got to the bottom of the stairs.

He wasn’t kidding it really was a dungeon down here.

I felt Dean once again at my side.

Eric disappeared for a moment pulling a lever.

I heard the growling get louder, a vampire descended from the ceiling suspended by silver chains.

He thrashed around trying to break free, the silver burning his skin as he did so.

“I found this one feeding on a human right outside my bar, he’s new, not yet a month old.” Eric said.

“A newborn, I’m guessing his maker is nowhere to be found.” I said eyeing up the vamp.

He looked weak, I would guess he’d been down here for a few days, starved of blood.”

“Oh on the contraire, his maker is very much around, in fact he’s responsible for the surge of newborns, that’s where we need to go.” Eric said.

“How do you know that?” I asked him.

“We’ve been spending a lot of quality time together lately.” Eric joked.

“Where’s his maker?” Dean asked.

“Only thing I can’t get out of him. What do you think she’s for?” Eric asked nodding at me.

Dean was quick to put an arm out in front of me.

Before Dean could protest Eric spoke.

“Tell me guard dog do you know her blood type?” Eric asked Dean.

“AB Negative.” Dean answered quickly.

I was a little shocked that he knew that, but I guess I had to be given blood a time or two since we started hunting.

“Yes, the rarest of all blood types, a delicious treat for a vampire, a treat that is very very hard to resist.” Eric answered.

Oh great so basically I was crack for vampires.

“I’m not giving any of my blood.” I growled.

“Oh you won’t have to.” Eric said stepping closer to me. “Just your scent alone will drive him mad.” Eric added inhaling.

“Fine.” I said rolling my eyes.

“If it even moves an inch, I’m shooting.” Dean says taking aim at the newborn vampire.

I took a few steps closer to the still thrashing vampire.

Eric was right, as soon as I was within distance, his fangs popped, his neck craned to hiss at me.

“I don’t think you want to do that.” I warned.

He hissed again in response.

“See that gun, it’s loaded with uv administering bullets, it’ll feel like the sun is invading every part of your body, it will be a most unpleasant sensation.” I explained.

Dean aimed the gun a little higher, waiting for the vampire to make a wrong move.

“Don’t make him have to use it, all you have to do is tell us where your maker resides, and all this can go away.”

“Fuck all of you.” The vampire spat.

“Why are you protecting him?” I asked circling him.

“He’s my master.” He answered.

“Well he clearly doesn’t care about you, he left you to fend for yourself.” I pushed.

“He released you?” Eric questioned coming closer to me.

“Yes.” The vampire answered.

“You are no longer his problem then.” Eric said.

“You have no loyalty to him.” I added.

“Shut up all of you please.” The vampire cried out.

Eric and I were trying to break him down, and it was working.

“He wouldn’t care if we killed you right here right now, in fact he wouldn’t even think twice about it.” Eric pushed farther.

“In fact he’ll probably just make another to take your place, it’ll be like you never existed.” I said.

“I think we’ll go ahead and do just that.” Eric said popping out his fangs.

“Alright stop, please I’ll tell you, just don’t kill me”.

Eric gave me a satisfied look before going in the newborn’s face.

“Where is he?” Eric growled.

“He’s got a whole nest next to the old cemetery, he’s stashing humans there to feed us. Please now let me go, I did what you wanted.” He begged.

“You’ve been a great help.” Eric said putting his hand through the newborns chest producing his heart.

I could see betrayal flash on the newborns features as blood seeped from his mouth.

I turned away as Eric crushed his heart in his hand, causing the newborn to explode in to pieces.

“Was that necessary?” I asked kicking a chunk of vampire guts away from me.

“Yes, he broke the law so he must suffer the true death. It was either this or let your boyfriend fry him from the inside, I gave him a quick way out.” Eric said.

I took a deep breath, I needed to get out of here, the smell of vampire guts was starting to make me sick. I ran up the stairs, hearing both men trailing behind me.

“You mortals have such weak stomach’s.” Eric said going behind the bar.

He quickly produced a glass of water for me. I took it gratefully, choosing to ignore his comment.

“I need to go call Sam.” Dean said.

“I’ll be fine, go ahead.” I nodded.

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” Dean said glaring at Eric.

“If I wanted to kill either of you I would’ve done it by now.” Eric shrugs.

“Yeah well I’m still debating about killing you.” Dean said.

“For once we agree on something.” Eric retorted.

“For the love of god both of you stop acting like children!” I said slamming my hand down on the bar top.

I walked to the other side of the bar taking a seat in an empty booth. I was tired of the back and forth. Dean gave me a apologetic look before stepping out to call Sam.

I rolled my eyes as Eric joined me in the booth.

“What do you want now?” I groaned.

“Quite a temper he’s got on him.” Eric said.

“I can see you got your own guard dog.” I said nodding my head towards Pam who looked like she wanted to rip my head off for even daring to breathe the same air as her maker.

“Yes Pam, she’s my..” He started.

“Your progeny.” I cut him off.

“How did you know that?”

“I’m not completely dim Eric, I put the pieces together. I saw how you looked when talking about your maker, it’s the same way Pam looks at you.” I shrugged.

“Jealous?” Eric smirked.

“Did you save her too?” I asked ignoring his comment.

“Yes in fact I did. I didn’t set out to create Pam, but if I didn’t turn her she was going to die, and Pam had a hard life, I thought she deserved a little good.” Eric spoke tenderly.

“I guess you didn’t leave her at least.” I said.

“I never would, I made her this way, it’s my responsibility to look out for her, teach her, just as Godric did me.” Eric said.

“Hmm so you can insightful, good to know.” I said offering him a nod.

“You never answered my question earlier, any good dreams lately?” Eric smirked.

I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

“I guess you’ll never know.” I shrugged.

“I have a feeling your boyfriend doesn’t know either.” Eric pushed.

“Okay I’m debating on killing you now.” I said annoyed.

“It’s okay if you did dream of me, I mean it is a side effect of taking my blood after all.” Eric said nonchalantly leaning back in the seat.

I spit out the water I was drinking as the words left his lips.

“Wait what?”

I don’t remember taking his blood.

I remembered then the kiss, when I pulled away Eric had blood on his lip.

“You see when we kissed, I accidentally cut my lip on my fang and you drank some of my blood. It was what allowed you to break my nose, it gave you a boost of strength. Unfortunately it does come with a few side effects.” Eric explained.

Accidentally?

I somehow didn’t believe that.

“You mean when you forced me to kiss you.” I growled.

“Ah yes forgot about that little detail.”

“Yeah what else did you forget to tell me?” I asked balling my fists.

“You see now that you have my blood inside you, I’ll be able to locate you quickly, and I can feel the things you feel. In return your innately more attracted to me, dreaming of me. You and I are bonded now.” Eric explained.

I suddenly felt very violated.

“I didn’t want that, I didn’t want any of this.” I bit.

Eric chuckled and leaned in close.

“Oh come on you’re not fooling anyone.” He whispered.

I could feel my heartbeat uptick just from his proximity to me. I couldn’t control it, it was as if it completely shut my brain out and was thinking on its own.

“I don’t want anything to do with you, in fact I can’t wait for this whole thing to be over so I never have to see you again.” I growled.

“I think you’re forgetting I feel what you feel, I know that’s a lie.” Eric said sliding a little closer.

“It’s not.” I defended.

“I know you want me.” Eric said placing one of his large hands on my thigh.

I sucked in a sharp breath trying to calm myself.

“You want me just as much as I want you.” Eric added trailing his hand upwards.

I quickly jumped up causing his hand to fall.

“Sorry you’re dead wrong I love Dean.” I growled walking away from him.

I was relieved when Dean came back. I quickly walked over to him wrapping my arms around him. He was surprised for a minute but hugged me back.

I can’t believe I admitted my love for Dean, to Eric of all people.

I seriously needed some therapy now.

“Sam’s going to meet us there.” Dean said.

I nodded my head.

“Let us get a few things and we’ll meet you there.” I nodded to Eric.

“No chance, I’m coming with you. I don’t trust you mortals either.” Eric said grabbing his jacket.

I guess that was fair.

“Eric, I’m coming with you.” Pam spoke.

“No Pam, I need you to stay here and handle opening. I’ll be fine don’t worry about me.” Eric said walking over to her and placing a kiss on her forehead.

Pam gave me a look, one that said if he gets hurt you’re dead.

I gave her a silent nod that it would be fine. I wouldn’t let Dean kill him.

I might still kill him, but Dean won’t.

Eric followed us back to the impala.

I opened the trunk where we stored all our weapons, or most of them at least. I grabbed a silencer putting it on the end of my pistol, the last thing we needed was to attract more attention.

I grabbed some silver chains as well as some silver bullets in case we ran out of the uv ones. I grabbed a wooden stake, before turning back around.

“Really?” Eric asked rolling his eyes.

“I would stay out of the crossfire if I was you.” I threatened.

Dean smirked as he shut the trunk.

Eric zipped to the old cemetery while Dean and I drove. I could see headlights at the entrance belonging to Sam.

It was eerily quiet.

Eric led the way as Sam, Dean and I aimed our guns, taking in our surroundings.

We walked a few steps seeing and hearing nothing.

“I don’t think anyone’s here.” Sam said.

Of course as he said that, a newborn came out of the dark and lunged towards my neck.

Eric was faster and caught the newborn by the neck while Dean shot a bullet through it’s chest. It immediately sank to the ground in agonizing pain as the uv bullet pulsed in its chest.

As if on queue we were surrounded by insatiable newborns, all looking for one thing, our blood.

I took a deep breath.

“Dog, keep her close, her smell will drive them mad.” Eric said pushing me closer to Dean.

Dean gave Eric an almost silent thank you.

It was as if they were suddenly given a silent command to attack, the newborns rushed towards us fangs bared. I fired multiple rounds finding a different target each time.

I could feel my ears ringing from the gunshots as well as the wailing of newborns who were being fried by the uv bullets.

I stumbled crashing in to Eric.

He caught me quickly standing me up on my feet.

I ran out of bullets shortly after, having to resort to the stake and silver daggers. I was wrestling with a particularly strong vampire, my silver dagger doing little to deter it’s advances. I lost my footing falling to the ground with the vampire. I held an arm to it’s throat keeping it’s fangs away from my face.

It was getting harder and harder to hold it back. I suddenly felt blood splatter on my face as a wooden stake stuck out of the vampires chest.

“Oh fuck.” I heard the vampire groan before exploding.

Dean quickly picked me up brushing me off.

“Dean watch out.” I called.

A vampire was approaching him quickly.

But this one wasn’t a newborn.

It moved far better, it was more experienced.

It was the maker we had been looking for.

And it was coming straight for Dean.

I didn’t know what I was doing until I was already moving.

I quickly shoved Dean out of harm’s way.

I felt a hand go around my neck and teeth sink in to my flesh.. and then I felt nothing.

Dean

“Dean watch out.” I heard her voice call.

Before I had time to react I was being shoved to the side. I looked up to see a vampire grab her by the neck and sink his teeth in to her throat.

“No!” I screamed, grabbing my gun and firing six or seven silver bullets in to it’s chest.

Eric noticed the commotion and ran up behind the vampire pulling it’s heart out ultimately ending it.

I quickly ran over as y/n slumped to the ground, her hand going up to try and cauterize her wound. I quickly replaced her hand with my own, putting as much pressure as I could to stop the bleeding. I felt the tears already welling up in my eyes as the blood gushed from her neck despite the pressure I applied.

“Dean.” I heard her gasp, her eyes filling with tears.

I was soon joined by Sam.

“Dean, her jugular is severed, what do we do.” Sam panicked.

I didn’t know what to do.

She was losing too much blood too fast.

I let out a sob running my other hand down her cheek.

“It’s okay baby don’t worry, you’re going to be okay.” I sobbed kissing her forehead.

“Dean it’s okay I’m not afraid.”

How could she say it’s okay.

Nothing is okay!

“It’s not okay, please just hang on.” I cried.

“Dean, I’m in the arms of my first love, I’m with the only man I’ve ever loved, I’m okay.” I could hear her choke barely getting it out.

She loved me?

It was the words I had been longing to hear for years, but not now.

“I love you too, I love you so much which is why you can’t leave me.” I begged.

I looked over seeing Sam now crying too.

I looked back to her face, noticing it go paler and paler.

My hand was doing little to stop the massive blood loss.

Her eyes slowly fluttered shut as she lost consciousness.

She was dying.

My love, my world, dying in my arms.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I wouldn’t.

I gently laid her down, grabbing my gun.

I pointed it at Eric who was standing there just watching with furrowed brows.

He acted like he was hurt by the situation, like he cared about her.

“Change her.” I growled.

“Dean, you can’t.” Sam said as he started standing up.

“Sit the fuck down Sam.” I screamed at him.

I turned back around to Eric who still hasn’t moved.

“I said fucking change her, now.” I hissed.

He made no movements.

I fired a single silver bullet right in to his shoulder making him hiss in pain.

“I’m not asking again fucking do it.” I screamed.

“I don’t think you know what you’re asking for.” Eric said.

“I don’t care, I’m not losing her, do it.” I said.

I wasn’t thinking straight, all I could think about was that I didn’t want to live without her.

“I don’t even know if it’ll work.” Eric growled getting closer.

“Try, you fucking owe us that much.” I growled.

Eric gave me one last look before sinking his fangs in her neck wound, completely draining her of blood.

I sank to my knees as he bit his wrist forcing it in her mouth.

“I need you to start digging a hole big enough for the both of us.” He said once her heartbeat stopped.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“It’s either that or she dies from sunlight exposure.” He growled dripping more blood in to her mouth.

“Sam go.” I growled.

“Dean you can’t be serious with this?” Sam protested.

“Goddamnit Sam go.” I yelled.

He gave me one last look before running off to dig a hole. Eric finally yanked his wrist away going to help Sam dig. I crawled over to her now lifeless body.

“I’m so sorry baby, this is all my fault.” I sobbed on her chest, not caring that I was getting covered in her blood.

I didn’t protect her.

I should’ve protected her.

It should’ve been me.

“Alright move.” Eric growled pushing me off of her.

I grabbed my gun pointing it at him. I wanted nothing more than to kill him right then and there, but if this worked, she would need him.

He lifted her carefully in his arms jumping down in the hole that was dug. He gently laid her down, before laying down himself and cuddling her body to his chest.

I couldn’t stand the sight,

“Now cover us up. No sunlight can seep through or we’ll both die.” He growled.

“How will I know if it worked?” I said utterly defeated.

“If she wakes up tomorrow night, you’ll know.” Eric said.

I grabbed a shovel dumping dirt over them.

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I buried her.

Once I was sure she was far enough underground I collapsed as my body racked with sobs.

“Dean what did you do?” Sam questions sitting down beside me.

“I don’t know Sam, I couldn’t let her go.” I cried.

“It would’ve been better than this, Dean she wouldn’t want this.” Sam said.

I felt rage cloud over my eyes. I turned around shoving Sam.

“It wouldn’t have been better how can you say that?” I seethed.

“Dean I loved her too.” He started.

“No you didn’t, not like I did.” I whispered.

“So what you’re just going to wait here until tomorrow night?” He scoffed.

“If I have too.” I snapped.

I didn’t care what it took.

I was going to see her again.

“I’m sorry Dean but I can’t be part of this, I won’t.” Sam said.

I didn’t answer him.

If he didn’t want to be apart of this then he can go.

“Dean?” Sam pushed again as if he was going to change my mind.

When I didn’t answer him for the second time he finally left.

I brought my knees to my chest laying down beside the pile of dirt that contained her. I felt as if I died right along with her.

Reader

Am I dead?

Is this what death is like?

A permanent darkness?

I felt something cold and heavy on my body.

Where was I?

I can’t remember anything.

I felt something stir beside me alerting all of my senses.

I tried to move my hand and realized I was surrounded by dirt.

Was I buried alive?

What was going on?

I was panicking now.

I quickly started digging trying to free myself.

I was suddenly being ripped from the dirt by a strong hand.

Moonlight flooded my eyes as I took a sharp breath in.

It however provided no relief to my burning throat.

“It’s okay, everything is okay.” I quickly flipped around seeing a tall blonde.

I felt my memories come back like a flash flood.

Eric. Dean. Vampires. Death.

I died.

But I was still here.

That’s impossible.

Unless….

“I’m a..” I started too stunned to speak.

“A vampire.” Eric finished.

I looked at him, suddenly feeling a pull towards him, an unexplainable urge to protect and care for him.

I realized then that he was my maker.

He did this to me.

“I don’t understand.” I said grabbing my throat that was still burning.

“I saved you, you were dying and I saved you.” Eric said taking a step closer.

I found that my vampire self didn’t want him to step away, I wanted him to take me in his arms and tell me everything was going to be okay.

“I’m so..”

“Thirsty, I know, I’m going to take care of you.” Eric said.

Thirsty.

For blood.

I craved blood.

It made me sick, but I needed it.

Eric was about to take me away when a voice caught my attention.

“y/n?”

Dean

I laid by the freshly dug grave until I could see the sun starting to set.

If this worked she’d be up soon.

Please god let it work.

I sat up when I heard something stirring.

Eric arose out of the grave, eyes clouding with fury when he saw me standing there.

“You need to leave now.” He growled.

No fucking way.

“I’m not leaving.” I pushed back.

“Look she will be insatiable, and you’re covered in blood, so unless you want her to have your death on her conscience for eternity you’ll leave.” Eric said this time putting his hands on me and shoving me away from the grave.

“It worked?” I asked ignoring his request.

I couldn’t believe it worked.

“I need to see her.” I said, standing my ground.

“I need to feed her, so unless you want to become her meal you’ll leave. This is the last chance I’m offering you!” Eric growled.

I hesitantly backed up.

I didn’t want to torment her new senses.

I sighed before jogging off in to the tree line so I was out of sight.

I watched as Eric stuck his hand in the dirt pulling her out.

She still looked like herself, but everything was more defined now.

I felt my heart break as her eyes looked around terrified.

Oh god..

What did I do?

“It’s okay, everything is okay.” Eric assured her.

Her face contorted with realization.

“I’m a..”

“A vampire.” Eric confirmed for her.

I could see her heartbreaking for just her face.

She didn’t want this.

I did this.

Oh god.

What did I do?

I felt the tears start to cloud my vision.

I was completely selfish.

Sam was right, she didn’t want this. But I wouldn’t listen.

“I’m going to take care of you.” I heard Eric say as he went to leave with her.

I couldn’t let him.

I stepped out of the tree line.

“y/n?”

She quickly whipped around in my direction. I saw her eyebrows contort in pain as she looked at me. Eric grabbed her hand bringing her to his side.

“It’s okay y/n, come here, I’ll help you.” I said taking a step closer.

She didn’t budge. Instead just stared at me with longing eyes.

I heard Eric chuckle making me growl.

“Remember that part where I said you had no idea what you were asking for?” Eric taunted.

“y/n come here.” I said again choosing to ignore him.

“Sorry, she only listens to me, she calls me daddy now.” Eric jabbed.

No.

This was all wrong.

This isn’t what I wanted.

I felt my hands shaking.

What did I do?

Part Two: Coming Soon!

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cultofdixon · 1 year ago

Text

Oddly Fascinating

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Can you imagine a human fucking pretzel? Well you certainly like to freak the others out unexpectedly • SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex

Requested by: Anon

It’s…fascinating. The things Y/N can do with JUST her body. Keep that noggin out of the gutter for a minute.

Y/N joined the group a little after the Woodbury infusion to the prison. She didn’t have a group and sort of ended up in Virginia because she simply didn’t stop walking from where she originated.

One day Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn were out on a run in the closest outdoor mall, which is a few hours away from the prison—so they were going to have to camp. Daryl went to check the store that looked like a miniature Home Depot thinking he could find some camping supplies but when he entered the store…said camping supplies were in use but no person.

“If anybody is here, I ain’t gonna hurt yea,” Daryl stated knowing that wouldn’t go far but to his surprise one of the storage boxes’s lids flung open. Soon a woman’s upper half popped out like a jack in the box and it was a bit unsettling to the archer.

“I had to see who I’m working with and what makes yea think I’ll trust “I ain’t gonna hurt yea” with muscles like those”

“You think I’d hit a woman?”

“It’s the apocalypse. If laws don’t exist, neither does moral code. I follow them still…but still”

“I don’t hit women.” Daryl scoffs. “How do yea fit in there?”

“I don’t know you well enough to share my skills. But I do feel a little better knowing you’re not gonna throw a left hook at my face” the woman began to fully pull herself out of the container and when she stepped out, she locked eyes with the archer’s confused yet curious ones. “Okay I trust you about not killing me but why haven’t you left?”

“Gonna ask yea a few things if that’s okay with you”

“Sure I guess” She put the lid back on the box before taking a seat and crossing her arms.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Lost count a long time ago”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Four”

“Why?”

The woman went silent for a moment and avoided eye contact as she held herself. “They were my friends, and brother who were about to turn. They didn’t want to be taken out as a walker and didn’t want to become one so. You know…”

“I do” Daryl leaned against one of the shelves. “It’s hard to take someone you care about out after they’ve changed”

“Getting deep with me and we don’t even know each other’s name”

“Daryl”

“Y/N”

Then she joined their group right then and there. The others that came with Daryl liked her, didn’t trust her right away but given her attitude immediately when it came to them asking the same questions Daryl asked—-both Glenn and Michonne knew that they will grow to trust her. Same with the others. Returning back to the prison with a lot more than they had expected helped the initial image of the new comer. Y/N hoarded a lot of stuff so thinking that she would survive alone in there.

Some part of Daryl wanted Y/N to take the empty cell in their cellblock but given he didn’t speak up and Rick showed her one of the others, that wasn’t happening.

But she was very involved with helping around the prison.

“You good up there Y/N?” Rick calls out to her receiving a thumbs up while she continued to work with fixing part of the fence that disconnected from the gate.

The retired sheriff watches his brother pull in on his bike but stop to watch Y/N a moment. She dropped her wire cutters and as it hit the grass, Daryl hopped off his bike about to grab it when he quickly took a step back when Y/N jumped down somersaulting in the dirt.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl shouted as Y/N stood up immediately, stretching her back after her action. “Yea could’ve cracked your head open!”

“I’ve done it a million times before. Don’t worry your pretty little head”

“A million times? What, in the circus?”

“How did you know?” Y/N smiles catching him off guard at first and even more when she broke out in laughter. “I wasn’t in the circus dumbass. I’ve done a lot of risky stuff and…gymnastics. But what just happened is nothing compared to other stuff” she states while throwing herself back so she was then in a bridged position and Daryl watched her upper half lay flat on its stomach showing her crawl between her legs and hold her ankles. Exorcist shit.

“Now I think you’re an alien”

“Rude” Y/N scoffs as such action was a bit uncomfortable given her twisted position. “It definitely impressed and freaked out a few hook ups”

Now that led Rick to leave from overhearing their conversation, both knowing damn well he was there. He opened the gate once Y/N was back in the upright position and Daryl was still left appalled somewhat.

Y/N was definitely making a good impression on most. Has been on every run that was planned and no one opposed, she’s especially useful in tight situations.

“Alright, so I was thinking we break down the door and then—-“ Tyreese cut himself off when Y/N gestured for Maggie’s help to hoist her up and she happily obliged.

Next thing the group knew, Y/N was pushing herself through the small window above the locked door landing on the other side and unlocking it.

“Or that” Sasha chimes in with a laugh and smile, impressed by the woman. “Now we don’t have to almost break ourselves to get into places” she walked past her as Y/N brushes off some of the dirt checking her person carefully. Said actions didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.

After a couple hours passed, the four returned to the prison and dispersed but as Daryl stuck by his bike a moment he noticed Y/N straggling a bit. She stood for a while glancing around and turned to Daryl with a questioning look before turning away.

“If yea need something, you can ask” He didn’t hesitate as Y/N slumped in defeat before turning around and approaching him.

“Crack my back”

“What?” Daryl scoffs confused as he wiped the grime off his hands with his rag. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Imma turn around cross my arms and you’re going to wrap your arms around me then lean back until a crack is heard.” Y/N explained in the most layman terms she could think of and it clicked instantly to Daryl but he hesitated a moment.

“Is that what yea want?”

“Yes, well. What I really want is someone to step on my back but all of y’all aren’t trained to do that and back in the day I had a friend who was a masseuse.”

“Well, I’ll do my best” Daryl grunts bringing himself over after tossing his rag on his bike watching her turn around and do what she had to do before he wrapped his arms around her. “Just lean back holding yea?”

“Yup” Y/N felt a sudden warmth rise in her chest when she was being lifted and the heat came clear in her cheeks expressing more of a red hue.

She heard the crack a bit ago but they both just. Stood there and it went from Daryl holding her to them both holding each other. Still Y/N’s back against his chest but her arms held onto his. Daryl relaxed setting her down but the way he held her for much longer and Y/N didn’t show any sign of letting go.

There was something

When the illness washed through the prison and a few were sent to get the medicine, Y/N found herself in the doorway watching Bob shove alcohol into his bag. He turned toward her realizing she was there and instead of talking first, he quickly took a bottle and threw it in her direction watching her quickly fall back then swing her body back forward.

“Jesus fucking Christ what are you? One of those inflatable car sales string cheese looking things?!”

“That’s very descriptive. Are you gonna be the same way when telling me why you have a goddamn bag of alcohol and not medicine to save our people”

“Oh for fucks sake! You and I are the newest people at the prison and you’re willing to bend over backwards—-even literally—-for people you barely know”

“So?!”

“SO?!” Bob shouted which caught another’s attention, Michonne as the conversation ended the second she joined. Bob brushed past her as she quickly gave a concerned look to Y/N.

I’m fine. Was all Y/N gave her as she stepped out.

Of course the booze was found out by Daryl and that was a more explosive mess to address than when Y/N first confronted him. But it all stopped mattering when they finally got their medicine into their people.

After getting their medicine in, Daryl went in search for Y/N who disappeared after they did such. It didn’t take long to find her because she was in her cell but she was alone in the old Woodbury cell block. Because of the outbreak.

“You alright?” Daryl asks Y/N even if she was currently hiding under her deconstructed bunk.

“Yeah”

“Don’t look like it”

A few seconds of silence. “Yeah…” she sounded defeated and pulls her entire self out from under bringing herself to sit on her bed. Daryl bringing himself to sit with her leaning his back against the wall.

“You can trust me, with whatever is on your mind”

“It’s strange…how easily it was for Bob to just. Not care about the others in the heat of the moment”

“Some people are just like that. Somethin’ or someone has to change them”

“I used to be like that. Not a warm caring person when this thing first started. I just. Had moments that changed me”

“Yeah?” Daryl gave her a questioning look that she noticed in the corner of her eye. “What changed yea?”

“Having to end the lives of people I cared for, the ones who got bit. When…” Y/N hesitated a second before looking at Daryl. “When I met you”

She’s full of surprises isn’t she? Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he never felt that feeling before.

But this moment was short lived like the many that followed after.

Until they found themselves alone weeks later…in a new place, with strange new people. Y/N stuck by Daryl’s side since they first entered Alexandria and given how the archer was feeling from all the loss, he would find himself following her if she were to stray or disappear from his side for too long.

“Can you hand me the socket wrench?” Daryl asks while under the car Aaron drives for recruiting as he was asked to check something out for the man. Y/N being there to help in any way even if it is just handing tools to the archer.

Y/N was currently repairing one of the angel wings on Daryl’s vest which led her to using her leg to reach toward the bench then her foot hooked onto the handle of the tool box. She then carefully bent so that she could grasp the box with her hands and go through the kit for what he asked for.

“Damn”

The annoyingly familiar voice caught both of their attentions as Daryl pushes out on the skateboard sitting up to look at Spencer confused. Y/N equally confused on the matter while handing the tool over.

“You know I saw you the other day doing your…morning stretches or whatever. Didn’t think you’d be THAT flexible…and limber…” Spencer was starting, or continuing to make Y/N uncomfortable as he starts to check her out making her cover herself with Daryl’s vest in her lap.

Daryl quickly taking note of the reaction and glaring at the man. “Beat it”

“I wasn’t talking to you” Spencer brushed him off keeping his attention on Y/N. “I bet you’re even more flexible in more intimate situations”

Y/N scoffs instantly but before she could bite the guy’s head off. She felt herself being pulled toward Daryl’s direction. Daryl having grabbed the blanket she was seated on pulling it closer to him so he could protectively wrap his arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned into him.

“She’s taken. Now I’d fuck off and bother somebody else before your mommy sees her little boy’s face smashed the fuck in” Daryl threats and didn’t let his guard down but it got Spencer to storm off defeated. “What a tool”

“He’s not wrong about something”

“Huh?”

“I am very flexible when we’re intimate” Y/N laughs slightly catching her own boyfriend off guard resulting in the red hue rising in his cheeks.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 year ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

An underrated health and wellbeing tool is play.

When you think about playing, you may immediately picture little children - but by definition, play describes “any activity engaged in purely for enjoyment and recreation with no definite practical purpose” and those activities stay important throughout your whole life.

Why are those activities important?

Play is good for your body. Intentionally doing something just for fun helps to activate the “rest and digest” mode that is necessary to recover and heal from stress. It signals that you’re safe and helps your body relieve tension.

It’s also good for your brain. It can stimulate your imagination, visualization and critical thinking skills, which can help you build skills like resilience and adaptability.

Play can also foster empathy and understanding of others as it can help you see things from another’s perspective.

Playing can make you laugh, and laughter comes with a whole sleeve of health benefits, such as decreasing blood pressure and even improving your immune system!

Playing together can strengthen relationships. Positive, fun social interactions are important for your emotional wellbeing.

Now some of you may think “that’s all nice, but how do I even play as an adult?”. While play is a natural behavior of human beings, many adults need to re-learn how to play - it depends on your specific environment and social circles but you may feel a lot of pressure to be productive all the time and play is by its very nature not productive. So, the first step in re-learning play is to give yourself permission to just *be* instead of *do* (and that can be a huge step!).

Some ideas on how to ease back into play:

Think about your childhood. (Or if you can, ask a parent, sibling or childhood friend, that can be a great way to bring back memories!) What were your favorite ways to play back then? What did you love about your favorite game? Does any particular memory immediately give you that “I wish I could do that again” feeling? (You may not necessarily find anything that you want to just replicate as an adult as-is, this is just meant to kick-start your imagination!)

Gameify everyday tasks. Try to spot as many yellow items as possible on your commute to work. Make up a silly song about laundry while putting away the laundry. Pretend to be on a cooking show while making dinner. Do what you always do, just allow yourself to be silly about it!

Do something creative, even (and especially) if you’re not good at it. You may not think of drawing, writing etc. as playing but those are activities you can do for pure entertainment!

Moving your body doesn’t need to be purposeful exercise (and certainly not hating yourself in the gym), it can also be playtime: Do a silly little dance to your favorite song! Tippytoe, crawl, jump, walk backward.. from your bedroom to the kitchen, just for the fun of it!

Rethink toys. While it is fully okay for a grownup to buy, own and play with toys, and we should abolish the negative stereotypes about it (it’s creepy, it’s inherently a sign of poor mental health etc.) these stereotypes do exist and you may simply not feel comfortable. Luckily, there are a few toys that are generally considered socially acceptable for adults or are even marketed towards adults, such as board games, stress balls, adult coloring books, certain Lego sets or fan/collectors toys (like action figures). And when there are no judgy eyes watching, you may also have fun just playing with household items such as cardboard rolls! No need to go out and buy something!

Keep in mind that play isn’t a competition to win. You can’t play wrong - that’s the beauty of it! Just let your curiosity and enthusiasm guide you.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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zoe-oneesama · 2 years ago

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I have notice that you are giving the kwamis different and more uniques personalities. How you imagened their unique emotions and how they react with the holders?

For sure, there are very few instances where the Zodiac Kwami get to show their individualism except for Sass or when they briefly interact with their new holders, so I really grabbed on to any little bit I could see and held tight.

Mullo - In the story of the Chinese Zodiac, the Rat rides the Ox and jumps off at the last minute in order to arrive first, so I thought it'd make sense for Mullo to be mischievous - also because Marinette uses it first for some cheeky misdirection. I got lucky that Mullo turned out to be a bit of a prankster when "Mega Leech" came out.

Stompp - As one of the Leftover 4, Stompp didn't get a lot of expression when they were shown in "PenalTeam", but I kinda ended up working with how calm they were. The way they addressed Chloe not knowing the kwamis names gave her a Disapproving Mother vibe, so I went with them being a nurturer. I picture them wanting to watch over their holder, particularly children ones, and watch them grow into full grown Oxes.

Roarr - So this one was easy cuz they've been very consistent in the show, and since the kwamis default to loud and bratty when they're in Mob Mode (ie, when all the kwamis act in sync instead of in line with their personalities), Roarr was simply a too rambunctious child. An extrovert to the extreme. Their name is very appropriate.

Fluff - This one is pretty established in canon, so I guess I'll just extend my headcanon. Fluff is easily confused and babbles a lot, and I think it's because they're being constantly bombarded with information from so many timelines. Existence is a prison and Fluff just comes across as dumb because all their brain power is overheating from a massive influx of information, so they have nothing else to offer in the Present.

Longg - "Ikari Gozen" makes them out to be a Long Winded Old Man/Woman (depending on the dub lol), but aside from them being pretty polite later, they don't hold on to it. I am. Longg is old as shit and just wants these damn kids to hear out their long ass stories, but they just don't know how to edit because it's been forever since they've been out of the box (a nod to how Dragons are now "mythical"). They don't know how to talk to the youngins anymore.

Sass - Okay, c'mon, we all know Sass. Sass is the only one we know definitively. They're the leader and being level headed and calm is the thing that distinguishes him from the rest. He is mildly cursed like Fluff to recall every remade time line, remembering what happened the other times that needed a second chance, but it's less of a burden than it is for Fluff.

Kaalki - I opted to lean in to her being a Diva, obviously thanks to her attitude in "Startrain". You'd think that'd clash with Max, so the struggle was more about making them work together despite that, so I also gave her a fascination with innovation. She's not very technologically literate, but she's interested in what humans have been able to do, especially when it comes to exploration. But in the end, she's still pretty vain lol.

Ziggy - since they were very upset at how mean Chloe was in "Miracle Queen" as opposed to angry like Stompp and Roarr, I felt Ziggy was probably younger and a bit sensitive. I also leaned into some goat traits, having them eat paper and headbutt Nathaniel.

Xuppu - Xuppu can easily become very annoying, especially in "Destruction" where they're trying to be helpful, but uhhhh...they aren't. So I just stuck with how they were portrayed in their canon debut episode. Like Roarr, Xuppu is very much like A Child, so even in Mob Mode they feel in character - getting into stuff and making a mess.

Orikko - I made them very patient, which you gotta be when your powers are bullshit and you constantly have to give a tutorial on how they work. They could talk all day with their holder trying to find loopholes.

Barkk - So they have two standout moments where they're allowed individuality - in "Furious Fu" and "Risk". In the former, they are stubbornly staying behind to guard the house and the Miracle Box, and in the latter, they're super excited at getting a new holder and getting to "play". So both a guard dog and a puppy. I met in the middle where they DO really want to play, but also want everyone to be as excited as them which takes a little coaxing. Like an Extrovery adopting Introverts.

Daizzi - They're just very sweet. Almost just like Rose but soft spoken. They feel very much but like to focus on the things they like, no matter how simple they are.

#sl kwamis

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moodymisty · 7 months ago

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Getting it in at the last minute hopefully, but one thing that's on the brain is Chapter Serfs, the mortals who do a collection of jobs on fortress monasteries and are devoted to certain chapters. They're treated a whole range of ways depending on the chapter from "worse than slaves" to "members of the family". I've read somewhere that the Raven Guard treat their Serfs surprisingly well given they're all Spooky Scary, but I wanna know what you think!

Also on the brain is a serf worrying about her Raven Guard battle brother constantly, and being extremely gentle and doting on him because like... Look at him, being a space marine seems like an extremely painful existence.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: This is a cute idea, and I want to write more Raven Guard. I hope you enjoy this little snippet!

Relationships: Unnamed Raven Guard/Gn!Reader (could be read platonic or very slightly romantic if you really squinted)

Warnings: Mentions of wounds like burns, Your astartes being apathetic about the whole thing

You almost have everything you think you'll need, looking over the spread of materials along the small table. If you've forgotten anything you hope he'll be as forgiving as the last times; As he always is.

The Raven's Valour has moored at Deliverance and you know his arrival is imminent; You'll finally be able to see him again. It's been months and while you serve the other Raven Guard with nothing but respect, there's something about your Raven Guard that is special. That has his arrival stirring your stomach.

It's become harder to even sleep without him nearby. You sleep in his private quarters with him- many of the serfs tending to higher rank Raven Guard do. The reasoning seems to be so you're always available to serve them, but too many of them seem to just like their serf's company to make it an excuse that doesn’t get doubted for a moment.

You hear the door open and quickly turn, spotting his wide shoulders and dark hair. Moments later however, you see that on areas not covered by his robes is what looks to be burns of some kind; Mostly chemical. It has that distinctive look, compared to a burn from a flame. He has other jagged cuts as well, but the burns are the most dramatic and eye catching.

"What happened?"

You say surprised, watching him sit down on the small bed and push his robes off his back. You can see his back is almost burned, and even though he has no reaction there isn't any way the cloth of his robes against his skin hadn't hurt.

You can also see the sores and dents where his armor weighed on him; in the weeks of nonstop use.

"We encountered heretics worshiping Nurgle. There were far more than expected, and they’ve learned new tricks."

He says little more than that, which doesn't surprise you. He isn't very talkative, particularly about these sorts of things. You presume his mission didn't go well if what little he gave was any indicator.

"I, I'm going to go get some things to help you, I'll be right back."

You quickly rush to grab any of the things you think will help, though much of it is more so for the humans around Deliverance than the astartes. The general consensus is they simply deal with the pain until it stops- that using healing solutions is a waste unless needed to preserve their life. you don't want him stay like this. He deserves more for protecting humanity; For protecting you.

"Here. This should help all of this heal."

You expected him to resist you, but you're surprised when he doesn't. You crawl onto the small bed and get behind him, holding your materials in your lap. He lets you come closer and apply medicine to all of his wounds, careful around the interface ports lining his back and shoulders. They run all along his back, digging directly into his spinal cord. They’re surrounded by old scars, and you fear it’ll hurt if you aren’t gentle.

You brush some burn cream over the massive one spanning his shoulder blade and he shifts, causing you to pull away for a moment.

"I'm sorry if this hurts, my lord."

He grunts at you, and you don't quite know if he's just responding, or scolding you for the use of title. Either way you eventually continue, but far more cautious.

You continue tending to his wounds, cleaning them and applying medicine to speed up his already incredibly fast healing. You know he doesn’t need it; But you know it will at least help. He's silent almost the entire time, until he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

"I can hear you thinking." You look up from his wounded shoulderblade.

You're thinking that he deserves better than this; To not be in pain, and treated like a weapon to be thrust at the enemy, and then be left in pain he's been trained to ignore. Or at least refuse to show.

"Sorry," Is all you can mutter, however. He looks at you for a moment longer, and you notice his dark eyes flicker around your face before he turns back around.

Once his wounds are as well as you can make them you rake your fingers through his black hair, until it's untangled enough to pull it back. Once you're finished, he looks towards towards the top of his bed. His hand tugs the thin fabric draping over it.

"You slept in it," He says bluntly and out of the blue, catching you red handed. You're still kneeling on the bed behind him, wringing your hands.

"I couldn't sleep one night. I was worried since the Raven's Valour was gone longer than you'd said it would be." He turns, and you notice a very small smile on his face.

"Do not worry about me so much." You look away, and you don't know why your eyes suddenly feel so watery.

"If I don't, then who else will?"

His small smile stays, but you notice something change in his look that you can't quite place.

And before you have a chance to even try he reaches a hand up, and rustles the top of your head. Afterwards, he cups your jaw with the same hand and keeps you facing him.

Don't worry little raven, I'll be fine."

#raven guard x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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penultimate-step · 3 months ago

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I've been reading a self-help book (don't ask) and they had this anecdote about this successful restaurateur and his struggle to operate dozens of restaurants. They talk about how the competition was steep, that at each location they had to be the ones to attract an audience, while nearby tried to do the same, but couldn't keep up and went out of business. Which kind of took me out a little bit because. Hmm. So obviously the story was framed with the guy as protagonist, about his passion for food and his drive to succeed. And I won't say he did anything wrong by doing his best, I'm happy for him that he succeeded and gets to live his life working with his passion and achieving his dream. But like, since these are real people being discussed, rather than characters, it did scan a little oddly to me to brush over in a line or two all the unnamed people who were probably equally passionate and driven, but yet failed, and thus could not be the focus of this story.

But I guess that's how it goes, right, for anybody to be the best at X thing, there have to be plenty of people who tried and failed. With occupations specifically there's the added bit where this reflects too a loss of livelihood and financial stability.

But even in a perfect world where society has moved completely beyond poverty, an imagined post-scarcity utopia, I'm not sure this is a problem that can conceivably be solved, no amount of resources can fix limited human time, attention, and prioritization. It kind of reminds me of that one tumblr post about the concert ticket problem, where even infinite resources still means only a limited amount of people can get tickets to a concert. Except rather than a temporary luxury (a single concert) it's an entire lifestyle; there's only a limited amount of popular restaurants.

But that's not really a hypothetical situation, though. That's something already happening today, in real life. And not just with restaurants. There have always been roles, lifestyles, jobs, goals, where the supply is far greater than the population can sustain. One only has to look at say, the art field, or all the people who want to be writers, to see that. And in those examples we can kind of see how this would play out - with the internet, the barrier to entry for creating and sharing art or writing is super low, anybody who wishes can be a writer or artist, and that's a wonderful thing. But the sheer amount of works being produced means an ever-shrinking percentage become well known and popular, simply because there are so many all competing for space in the public consciousness. And with art, at least, there is hypothetically room for an uncountable number of works to exist, without needing maintenance after being completed. For someone with a dream of being a chef and opening their own restaurant, you have additional concerns, like limited physical space, and having to maintain it through daily work rather than it ever being "completed." So probably the cap on the amount of popular restaurants able to exist simultaneously is even lower than the amount of popular artists. So unfortunately, no matter what, it seems only some people in life will be able to live their dreams.

#fiction #kind of? not really? i dont have a tag for this honestly #step.blogger #step.live #technically

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mortalityplays · 8 months ago

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tonight I was at a neighbourhood meeting to discuss what more people in our local area could do ourselves for palestine, since the UK government is committed to the wrong side of history. the msp who organised it said she did so because she'd been emailed by well over 1200 different individuals in our area over the last few months, demanding action. most of them in their own words and many of them contacting her repeatedly. thats nearly 2% of the local population, for the record.

if you've ever been to a church hall public meeting like this, you know they tend to be dominated by retirees and a few locals who are especially passionate about very specific issues. they also tend to pretty quiet, especially on a rainy friday evening.

tonight there were people of all – and I mean all – ages. there were parents who brought small children, there were teenagers still in school uniforms, there were middle aged couples, and students, and retirees. there was a man in a three piece tweed suit, and another man still in his hi-vis from a building site. and they were all passionate, they all had things to say. people are incredibly frustrated, outraged at the inaction and indifference that is being asked of them by our government. there was zero question in that room that palestine belongs to the palestinian people, that they will return and they will rebuild, and that we are collectively unwilling to live with ourselves if we can't help.

and we weren't just talking about petitions and marches. there was discussion of when and how volunteers will be able to go to gaza and physically help to rebuild. medical workers and architects are forming action groups to coordinate with gazans, send aid, develop new techniques and materials for the conditions people are facing on the ground. we talked about BDS, how to ensure action and advocacy and fundraising are sustained long term, and what we can do to shut down arms sales to israel.

this wasn’t a meeting of radicals or activists. this was a public meeting in a church hall, organised in the space of about ten days and attended by the local vicar. these were my neighbours. this is the passion, the anger and the urgent appetite for justice that exists among the general public right now. nobody can claim they don't know what's going on, said one person. we are here simply because we are human beings, said another. palestine will be free, said another. and another. and another. and another. palestine will be free.

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ariiadnes · 13 days ago

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╭ ⿻ ･ QUIXOTIC

the culmination of love is grief , and yet we love , despite the inevitable.

ଓ.° ・ zhongli. genshin impact. quote cr : god of war. revised & rewritten!

in a life where a dragon learns of humanity, the ebb & flow of mortality known, zhongli indulges in the beauty of fleeting time : a temporary keepsake, this lack of forever. he humbles himself in the weavings of this mortal life, heart gentle as he places it in the hands of vulnerability and humility.

( is it strange, he ponders, to freely indulge in a life knowing that one day, it will eventually end? perhaps for him. perhaps the idea of an end, a graceful sleep bound by the passing of the soul, seems like a final act of kindness. that, at the very least, is what he can give to those who cross the river. )

the confessions of love, he learns, are an intricate thing. how beautiful it is, those words, laced with adoration and silk and the many things one would deem far too worthy to simply be defined through mora. he knows of the feeling that dwells in this heart : a lone bud resides in the domain of a war-stricken god, surrounded by yearnings of the past and hope for a future in a different life. it blooms with time, fulfilled through means of ardor and endearment. it blossoms with every beat, every moment spent together, and he does not know what to make of it.

it is a dangerous feeling, and not even he, in all he has done for the sake of liyue, thinks he can allow himself this selfishness.

( for your sake, he reasons. but maybe he is denying the existence of the fear that echoes in his mind, the endgame of the bond between a mortal and a god. )

"it must be very lonely," you once told him under the oak tree, "walking the path of godhood."

he remembers that encounter all too well, and in every lifetime his soul has endured, through every significant moment of grief and wonder and everything in-between, he will remember it most. it will cling to his heart, and he will carry it with him, dearly. deeply. the way your voice wavered slightly, the trembling of your hands when he carefully took them in his. he never answered, never spoke of his longing for you. but it was there all along, hidden beneath the reminiscence of previous lives, lying in between the soft spoken words of longing for what could be.

you do not exchange the words of love yet, and zhongli is grateful. he knows the mortal life well, but even such an occasion remains a mystery to him, and it is not one he is ready for, even if the heart knows it, quickens in the presence of your existence -- a silent reminder of his affection. he does not know what will happen when that day comes. he wants to hear the words, wants to say them, but what will be of the future?

( he knows. he always has. it is inevitable. he will be the one to lay you to rest, guide you to an afterlife, and then he will be alone again. another grave. another vacancy in the vestige of cherished memories. and it will wound him terribly so, even if he tries to prepare himself for it from the very start. )

will the pain be worth it? will the pain be worth it? will the pain be worth it?

even a god remains uncertain. but the days pass, and life goes on, and in the serenity of what it means to be human, zhongli learns. he wakes to the sight of you by his side, your eyes closed, breaths calm and even. his vision is blurry -- if for a moment, but even the recognition of your being and existence is enough to grant reprieve. a second, then two. he rubs his eyes, vision clearing. inhale, exhale. the knowing of you.

he cannot help but lace his fingers with yours-- a habit he has come by in the recent months, and he squeezes ever so softly-- not enough to wake you, but he hopes it is enough to let you know that even in your dreams, he is here for you.

the hours pass, yet a god does not move. the continuous rise and fall of your chest, the feeling of your body pressed against his. he wonders if this is what it means, this brutal and kind mortality.

-- will the pain be worth it?

another inhale. exhale. his breath stills when you open your eyes ; it is almost instinct that your lips curve in tenderness and love at the sight of him. he hums softly, half in amusement, half in quiet means of a good morning, and kisses your forehead.

( yes, he thinks, hearing your soft laughter in the early hours of yet another morning spent together, it will be worth it. )

#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #i rewrote this during a study break ... but idk how i feel abt it ... for now i will keep it <3 #ଓ.° : fic #ଓ.° : genshin impact #ଓ.° : banner cr @ v6que

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mepuppy · 4 months ago

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Let It Ride - Supernatural rewrite

So, apparently I have nothing to do (ignore all my responsabilities) and I decided to write a Dean X Reader rewrite of supernatural to go with my rewatching of supernatural. 😊

I do not own the characters, nor the storylines. I'm simply adding a twist to the episodes. Please feel free to help me out with constructive criticism on the story or the writing. Sorry for the mistakes, not proofread and english is not my first language.

Hope y'all enjoy it.

Word Count: 7k

1x01 - Pilot

KINDE, MICHIGAN - April 10, 1988

John Winchester and Martin Creaser were finishing setting up to go into a vampire’s nest. Martin received a tip on the nest around the area and called John for backup, so the man left the two boys in the motel a city over and met with his friend there.

After Martin spread the ashes of the scent-blocking mixture on himself, he handed John for him to do the same.

“How many did you say?” He asked in a whisper to his friend, even though he knew whispering wouldn’t do shit if a vampire was close enough to hear them.

“If I’m not mistaken, 10 or 12.” He said, grabbing his knife, “Ready?” he asked as he closed the trunk of the car.

As they entered the warehouse where the nest was located, as quiet as they could be, they started to hear some voices. The vampires were all anxious, the newest ones had brought a family for dinner, including a child, which was already unusual, but the child had gotten away.

“Kevin will actually kill us when we don’t find the human child.” one of them said.

“So get off up and go find her. He and the others gave us 30 minutes” the other replied.

As the 2 hunters got to a corner, where they could see the glow of a fire already, they looked at each other, asking, silently, if the other was ready. John made a mental note to see if the girl had actually survived when they were done. They nodded to each other and started with the two that were already there arguing.

Twenty minutes later, 11 vampires dead, 7 nasty scratches on the hunters and one broken rib for Martin, they had cleared the nest. John was looking for the human child for less than 10 minutes, and after a promise to not hurt her and explaining what he did for a job and what had happened she came out of a pile of something very stinky, the reason they weren’t caughting her scent easily.

John, very impressed by the 7 year old ability of running and hiding from a nest of vampires, without even knowing such things existed before this experience, took her to the motel with him, to decide later, what to do with her.

17 Years Later

Y/N was at Bobby’s house, the hunter who was as much of a father figure to her as John was, since she spent many days at his house growing up with Dean and Sam, when she received the text from Dean saying he was going after Sam. She knew John hadn’t checked in with Dean in a few days now, and the son was getting more anxious by the hour. She asked him to let her know when he decided to go after the older man.

She was going with him to find his father. She owned John as much. After her parents were killed by a nest of vampires, by the age of seven, and she ‘escaped from something some trained hunters wouldn’t’, as John liked to put it, he cared for her, along with his boys. The three of them grew up together after that. She became a daughter for him, and he, a father to her. So she was very worried for him.

As she finished loading her saddlebags on her Harley, the one Dean had fixed for her one summer, Bobby came out of the house and handed her the last of her pocket knives.

“Do I have to tell you to be careful out there?” the older hunter asked.

“Always am.” She smiled warmly and closed the bags. Circling the bike and hugging him. “I’ll check in as soon as I meet the boys.”

“Don’t know if Sam will join you. He has always been a hardhead, and you know it.” he kissed the top of her head before letting her go.

“It’s his dad, I’d like to think he will take this into consideration.” she answered, throwing one leg over her bike, but her voice lacked conviction.

“Say hi to them for me.” Bobby said as she started the engine on and began driving.

“I will! Bye”

Meanwhile Dean was trying to convince Sam to go find their dad, on the outside of his apartment.

“Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.” Dean says as he started going downstairs again while Sam follows him.

“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45.” Dean stops at the door.

“Well, what was he supposed to do?

“I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.” Sam says exasperated, not believing he is having this conversation.

“Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there.” Dean answers scolding his little brother.

“Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her.” the youngest says and Dean glances outside. “But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find.”

“We save a lot of people doing it, too.” he looks at his little brother.

“You think Mom would have wanted this for us?” Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open heading outside. There's a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot. Dean and Sam start climbing it. “The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”

“So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean says as they cross the parking lot and head to Baby, Dean’s Impala.

“No. Not normal. Safe.”

“And that's why you ran away.” Dean looks away after finishing.

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.”

“Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.” after a pause, Dean says “I can't do this alone.”

“Yes you can.” Sam says as Dean looks down.

“Yeah, well, I don't want to.” Sam sighs and looks down, thinking. He meets his brother’s eyes again.

“What was he hunting?” Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, feeling a bit more hopeful, then the spare-tire compartment.

“All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?” Dean says as he props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

“So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?”

“I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.” Sam looks incredulous to his brother.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?” Dean looks over at Sam.

“I'm twenty-six, dude.” it’s his time to look incredulous to his brother as he pulls some papers out of a folder.”All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.” he hands one of the papers to Sam. “They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.”

The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined ‘Centennial Highway Disappearance’ and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned ‘Andrew Carey MISSING’. Sam reads it and glances up.

“So maybe he was kidnapped.”

“Yeah. Well, here's another one in April.” Dean tosses down another Jericho Herald article. “Another one in December 'oh-four,” another article “'Oh-three,” another one “'Ninety-eight,” another “'Ninety-two,” one more “ten of them over the past twenty years.” he throws a pile of the lats articles. Dean takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. “All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road.”

Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal.”It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough.” Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder. “Then I get this voicemail yesterday.”

He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

“Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.” John's voice comes and goes and then Dean presses stop.

“You know there's EVP on that?” Sam asked.

“Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?” Dean grins at his brother and Sam shakes his head. “All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.” He presses play again.

“I can never go home…” a woman’s voice comes up this time and Dean presses stop.

“Never go home.” Sam repeats more to himself than his brother.

Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. “You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.” he tilts his head “Besides, even Y/n/n is coming to help. This is serious, I can feel it.”

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. “All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him.” Dean nods. “But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.” Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks.

“What's first thing Monday?”

“I have this...I have an interview.” he answers.

“What, a job interview? Skip it.” the older brother says.

“It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.” Sam tells him.

“Law school?” Dean smirks.

“So we got a deal or not?” Dean says nothing.

Jericho, California

After driving the whole night and stopping to grab some breakfast, Y/N passes by a bridge full of police officers and spots Baby by the road. She gets off the bike and leaves her helmet on the seat.

“You did have another one just like this, correct?” Dean’s voice is the first one she hears.

“Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.” the officer closer to them says.

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam asks and the officer nods.

“Town like this, everybody knows everybody.” he says as Dean circles the car, looking around.

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?” Dean asks.

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So what's the theory?” She asks when she reaches the three man.

“And you are?” the deputy turns around and asks when they all spot her.

“Oh, she’s with us.” Sam covers for her going over to Dean.

“I see. Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.” Dean says, receiving a stomp on foot from Sam.

“Thank you for your time.” Y/N says and starts walking away, being followed by Sam and Dean, shaking her head.

“Gentlemen.” Sam dips his head passing by the police officers. The deputy Jaffe watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” Sam gets startled and cradles his head.

“Why'd you have to step on my foot?” The older asks.

“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?” y/n asks over her shoulder once they are out of earshot from all the officers.

“Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.” Dean says before Sam clears his throat and looks over at y/n.

“Hey, y/n/n. I missed you” he smiles.

“Well, you wouldn’t have had to if you kept in touch.” She turns crossing her arms “Or at least if you answered your messages.” she scolds him.

“I know, I’m sorry. But I thought you’d be mad at me for leaving.” he looks down.

But before y/n could answer she looks to her side and sees the Sheriff FBI agents.

“Can I help you kids?” the sheriff asks.

“No, sir, we were just leaving.” Dean answers and as the FBI agents walk past him, he nods at each of them. “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”

The three of them head back to Baby and the Harley and head out.

“Hey Chip, how’ve you been?” Dean asks you and pulls you into a hug when you get close enough

“I missed you too, Cherry Pie” you hug him back, retorting the stupid nicknames you have called each other since childhood. “You too.” she says to Sam after her and Dean let go, opening her arms to him.

“It’s been a while.” he says, hugging her.

“Ugh, I hate how tall you’ve gotten…” she says rolling her eyes when they let go. The boys chuckle “So, what are you guys thinkins?”

“The deputy’s daughter was dating the victim, so we thought about starting to asking her some questions” Dean says “And I'll bet you that's her.” he says pointing to the girl hanging posters.

“Yeah.” Sam agrees when they start walking up to the young girl.

“You must be Amy.” Dean says as they reach her.

“Yeah.” She answers

“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. Ans aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that’s y/n.” he points to the two of you as he speaks and the two smile at her.

“He never mentioned you to me.” Amy starts to walk away. The three of them start walking with her.

“Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.” Dean chuckles. ‘Nice save’ y/n thinks.

“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around.” As Sam tells her another young woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks Amy and the girl nods.

“You mind if we ask you a couple questions?” y/n asks the girl who looks at her and nods again.

They all head to a dinner and seat in a booth, Amy and her friend seat on one side, and Dean, y/n and Sam seat opposite to them.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.” Amy is telling them after y/n asked about the last time she spoke to him.

“He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” Dean asks and Amy shakes her head before saying.

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.” Sam says pointing to her neck.

Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it. “Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughs “—with all that devil stuff.”

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up. Dean looks over while y/n assess the girls.

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.” Sam says.

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.” Deansays taking his arm off the back of y/n seat and leans forward. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…”

The two girls look at each other. They were hiding something and the trio could see it.

“What is it?” Dean asks frowning.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.” Amy’s friend speaks for the first time since they got into the dinner.

“What do they talk about?” Dean and Sam speak in unison.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.” Dean and y/n look at each other while Sam looks at the girl attentively, nodding. ”Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

The trio thanked the girls and leave the dinner, deciding to go to the library.

A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks GO; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response. Samis sitting next to him, watching.

“Let me try.” Sam says and tries to type but Dean smacks his hand.

“I got it.” he says and y/n rolls her eyes, standing behind their chairs. Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. “Dude!” hitting Sam in the shoulder. “You're such a control freak.”

“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” Sam asks looking at the screen.

“Yeah.” y/n answers looking down at the boy.

“Well, maybe it's not murder.” Sam replaces "Murder" with "Suicide" and finds an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Dean glances at Sam and y/n glances at Dean grinning. Sam opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

“This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.” Sam says while skimming through the article and y/n leans over his shoulder to read it as well.

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asks trying to see it too.

“Yeah.” Sam answers.

“What?” he asks looking at his brother.

“An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.” y/n reads through the article ans Dean raises his eyebrows.

Dean murmurs. "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam read a passage while Dean pointed at a picture of the bridge they were earlier talking with the police officers on the corner.

“The bridge look familiar to you?” he looks over at the two.

They all headed to the bridge and are walking along it, they stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river. The smell of the river gets to them and they lean back.

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean says raising his eyebrows.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam looks over at Dean and y/n.

“Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” y/n answers and continue walkin, with the boys following her.

“Okay, so now what?” he aks.

“Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.” Dean says.

Sam stops. “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

Dean turns around.”Monday. Right. The interview.” he finishes in unison with the youngest. Y/n stops and look at both of them.

“Yeah.” Sam nods.

“Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean asks sarcastically.

“Maybe. Why not?” he asks.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?” y/n knows Sam’s girlfriend is called Jessica and that he has an interview on monday because Dean told her on the phone when Sam agreed to come.

Sam steps closer and so does y/n, knowing they can start fighting at any time. “No, and she's not ever going to know.” Sam says frowning.

“Well, that's healthy.” Dean retorts “You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.”

“And who's that?” Sam asks growing annoyed.

“You're one of us.” Dean poits at him and y/n.

Sam steps closer to Dean again “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“You have a responsibility to—” Dean starts, but Sam interrupts.

“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like.” he says throwing his arms up. “And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone.” Ouch, even y/n felt that blow. “And she isn't coming back.” Dean sidesteps y/n who was between them to try and stop their fight and grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge looking in his eyes.

“Don't talk about her like that.” Dean releases Sam and walks away. Y/n turns to go after him and sees Constance standing at the edge of the bridge at the same time he does.

“Guys.” he says. They go to stand him. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge.They all run to the railing and look over.

“Where'd she go?” y/n asks.

“I don't know.” Sam says. Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Dean and Sam turn to look.

“What the—” Dean starts and cuts himself off.

“Who's driving your car?” y/n asks looking over at Dean who pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and start to run.

The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, they dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt.

Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. He pulls himself up onto the bridge and looks around.

“Dean? Y/n?” Sam yells after halting himself up the bridge. Below, a filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water, panting, falling beside y/n, who’s already trying to catch her breath on the mud. “Hey! Are you all right?”

Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign. “We’re super.” he answers as y/n hold a thumbs up. Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.

Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it.

“Your car all right?” y/n asks

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” he says and looks over to the bridge “That Constance chick, what a bitch!” He yells into the night.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure.” Y/n sighs.

“So where's the job go from here, geniuses?” Sam ask looking at both of them settling on the hood next to y/n. Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands facing the other two. Sam sniffs, then looks at y/n. “You two smell like a toilet.”

They look down.

They got to a motel and Dean hands the front desk A VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Hector Aframian. “One room, please.” he says smiling, still filthy, with Sam and y/n right behind him. The clerk picks up the card and looks at it.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” he asks looking up. Y/n frowns and Sam asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.” Dean looks back at Sam.

Sam is trying to pick the lock in the motel room that belonged to John while Dean and y/n keep watch. The motel door swings open, but neither notice. Sam hides the picks and stands up. Sam reaches out of the room to grab Dean’s shoulder and y/n’s wrist yank them inside. Sam closes the door behind them. The trio look around—every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

“Whoa.” y/n says walking to the closest wall.

Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there sniffing it and recoils. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor and crunches to check it out.

“I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.” Dean says dropping the burger back in the bedside table and heading to look over the wall y/n is looking.

Sam fingers the salt on the floor and looks up. “Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” He gets up and walks to the wall opposite to his brother and sister-like. Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

“Centennial Highway victims.” y/n says to Dean and head to the wall Sam is looking. Dean nods. The victims seen on the wall include Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos.

“I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs—” Dean says trying to make sense of it “—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?” While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other wall. He finds something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance’s suicide.

Y/n turns on another lamp. “Dad figured it out.” Sam says looking at the girl that is at his side. Dean turns to look.

“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.” y/n says looking back at him. Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims.

“You sly dogs.” He turns back to the other two. “All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

“She might have another weakness.” Sam replies looking back at the wall.

“Well, Dad would want to make sure.” Dean crosses to them. “He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?”

“No, not that I can tell. If I were John, though, I'd go ask her husband.” y/n says tapping the picture of Joseph Welch. “If he's still alive.” Sam goes to look at something else.

“All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, while we go and get cleaned up.” Dean starts to walk away and y/n follows, grabbing her bag from the floor. Sam turns.

“Hey, Dean?” Dean stops and turns back while y/n passes him. “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean holds up a hand. “No chick-flick moments.” Sam laughs and nods.

“All right. Jerk.” he looks down.

“Bitch.” dean retorts smiling.

“I call dibs on the shower!” y/n yells and run to the bathroom, closing the door before Dean can catch up.

“Now she’s the jerk.” He says and you and Sam laugh.

You take a quick shower and leave the bathroom so Dean can get cleaned too. You grab your phone and sit on the chair texting Bobby, saying you’re okay, with the boys and already knees deep in the case John was working on. Sam notices something, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a young Dean in a baseball cap, a young y/n on his back and with an even younger Sam, on John’s lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.

A while later, Sam paces, holding his phone, and sits down on the bed, he’s listening to a voicemail Jess left for him. Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room.

“Hey, guys. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?” he asks looking back at the two.

“No.” sam says listening to the message.

“Aframian's buying.” Dean smiles and waves the credit card to them both.

“I accept some fries, please.” y/n says smiling widely looking up from the article about Constance she was rereading. Sam shakes his head again.

A couple of minutes pass by and y/n’s phone rings, when she picks up is Dean.

“Man, five-oh, take off.” y/n stands up.

“What about you?” she asks worried.

“Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.” Dean hangs up the phone. She looks through the corner of the window.

“They got Dean, we have to leave” she says to Sam that goes to the window to.

“What?” Sam asks. They see the deputy approaching and dart away from the window.

Sam and y/n, knock on the door at Joseph Welch house. An old man opens it: Joseph Welch.

“Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks when the man looks them over.

“Yeah.” he answers.

The three of them are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph is holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror. “Yeah, he was older, but that's him.” the older man hands the photo back to Sam “He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That's right. We're working on a story together.” y/n says smiling warmly and Joseph looks her up and down again.

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?” the man frowns.

“About your wife Constance?” the girl asks.

“He asked me where she was buried.” He says never taking his eyes from her.

“And where is that again?” Sam jumps in the conversation.

“What, I gotta go through this twice?” He looks over at Sam.

“It's fact-checking. If you don't mind.” he explains trying to keep their cover.

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” Joseph looks down.

“And why did you move?” y/n asks.

“I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.” He answers not looking up. Sam stops walking, y/n and Joseph do too.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?” Sam asks.

“No way.” He darts up to Sam, “Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known.”

“So you had a happy marriage?” y/n continues. But Joseph doesn’t answer right away.

“Definitely.” He says after a while.

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.” Sam turns toward the Impala. But y/n hesitates. Joseph walks away, she waits a moment, then speaks again to Joseph.

“Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?

Joseph turns around. “A what?”

“A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?” she explains further and Sam goes back to her side.

Joseph just stares at them. “It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.” Sam starts back “Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana”

“All these are different women.You understand. But all share the same story.” y/n continues.

“Kids, I don't care much for nonsense.” Joseph walks away. Sam looks back at y/n and follows the old man.

“See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.” Joseph stops.

“And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.” y/n follows Sam and Joseph turns around. “Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartasses!” Joseph looks incredulously between them.

“You tell us.” Sam tells him.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!” The man says, telling everything the duo needed to hear. Joseph's face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Sam sighs.

When Dean leaves the station, after escaping because the cops had to investigate some gunshots from a 911 call, he spots y/n leaning against her bike at the corner of the street. He heads towards her.

“Fake 911 phone call? Chip, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.” He says smirking when he gets close enough.

“You're welcome.” She grins back and uncrosses her arms.

“Listen, we gotta talk.” Dean’s expression changes.

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so Sam is already heading there and it should have been John’s next stop.

“Chip, would you shut up for a second?” Dean tries to talk but the girl doesn’t stop.

“We just can't figure out why John hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.” she keeps going, looking over Dean’s shoulder.

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.”

“What? How do you know?” she asks, confused. Dean simply holds John’s journal up in his hands.

“ What? He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.” the girl looks at the old journal.

“Yeah, well, he did this time.” The man says and flips through, stopping at one page that says ‘DEAN 35-111’ “And he left a message, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.”

“Coordinates. Where to?” she asks, reaching and grabbing the journal.

“I'm not sure yet.” he says handing her it.

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that John would just skip out in the middle of a job?” She looks up to the man in front of her “Dean, what the hell is going on?”

He shrugs and grabs her cellphone, that was sitting in the bike’s display, calling Sam.

“Hey y/n. I’m almost at the house, is Dean out yet?” Sam says after picking up, but then gasps and a tire squeal is heard before the line going dead.

“Sammy? Sam!” Dean asks before looking at y/n wide eyed.

“Let’s go!” She says hopping on the bike.

The car pulls up in front of Constance’s house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

“Don't do this.” Sam says looking through the rearview mirror to Constance, who’s on the backseat. She flickers.

“I can never go home.” Her voice is sad.

“You're scared to go home.” Sam realizes, looking back but Constance isn't there. He glances around and back and sees her in the shotgun seat. She climbs into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggles.

“Hold me. I'm so cold.” She says with her hands roaming through his torso.

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!” Sam says determined.

“You will be. Just hold me.” Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain feeling his chest on fire. There are five new holes burned through the fabric of his shirt, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling the ghost. Dean approaches, still firing at her while y/n went to the backseat, trying to open the door. Constance glares at Dean and vanishes, then reappears, and he keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car.

“I'm taking you home.” Sam says and drives forward. Dean and y/n stare after the car as it smashes through the side of the house. They hurry through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean yells after his brother.

“I think…” Sam starts from inside the car.

“Can you move?” y/n asks opening the passenger side door.

“Yeah. Help me?” he answers, reaching his hand Dean leans through to give Sam a hand.

Constance picks up a large framed photograph: the woman is Constance and the children are presumably hers. Dean helps Sam out of the car.

“There you go.” he says onde his little brother is on his foot. Y/n closes the car door. They look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards them, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; Constance looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are the children from the photograph. They hold hands and speak in chorus.

“You've come home to us, Mommy.” two ethereal voices sound in unison. Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her; they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two children disappear. Sam and Dean shove the bureau over and the trio go look at the spot where ghosts vanished.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean says looking up. Sam nods.

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.” He looks at the photograph

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Y/n smiles at him and Dean slaps Sam on the chest where he's been injured and walks away. Sam laughs through the pain.

“Yeah, I wish I could say the same for Dean. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?” He ask laughing incredulously.

“Hey. Saved your ass.” Dean says, leaning over to look at his car “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?” he twists around to look at Sam “I'll kill you.” Sam and y/n laugh.

The Impala tears down the road; the right headlight is out; with the Harley following.

Sam has the journal open to "DEAN 35-111" and a map open on his lap and is finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder. His phone on speaker to y/n. She has the phone inside her helmet.

“Okay, here's where Dad went.” Sam says to both dean and the phone “It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

“Sounds charming. How far?” y/n asks through the call.

“About six hundred miles.” he answers her.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.” Dean says, then looking at the phone “Can you make it, Chip?”

“Yeah.” she says at the same time Sam starts.

“Dean, I, um…” he hesitates

“You're not going.” y/n says.

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.” he looks at the phone then at the bike that lined to his window. Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever.” Dean says glancing at Sam.

“We'll take you home.” Sam turns the flashlight off.

“You can hang up now. We’ll talk at Stanford.” Sam does as he’s told and they drive on.

They pull up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning. Sam gets out and y/n takes her helmet off. “Call me if you find him?” Sam asks Dean who nods.”And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?” he tells y/n, that smiles at him, but before she can say anything Dean says:

“Yeah, all right.” Sam pats the car door twice, side hugs y/n and turns away. Dean gets out of the car and heads to y/n side.

“Sam?” Sam turns back. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there. The three of us”

“Yeah.” he smiles. Dean turns to y/n and they start talking between them. Deciding their plan. Sam watches them talk for a couple of seconds and sighs, turning and heading inside.

After Sam gets inside the building y/n comments. “You know, he might be making the right choice. If he can have a normal life, who are we to deprive him of that?” she says getting off the bike to look into Dean’s eyes.

“I know. And I really hope he can do it, but I don’t think it is possible.” he sighs and rests his forehead on her chest “Besides, I’m really gonna miss him.”

“Yeah, so am I.” She puts her hands on the back of Dean’s head. She knows the moment is not about that, but she can’t help feeling some butterflies on her stomach by his action. Doesn’t matter how many times they share those moments she always feels them, even though she knows he only sees her as an annoying little girl who was raised like his sister. Sighting, she looks to Sam’s building to try and clear her head. When she sees the explosion of flames on one of the windows.

They both gasp and run inside. Getting to the floor of the flames, which happens to also be Sam’s apartment. Dean kicks the front door open.

“Sam!” Dean yells entering the apartment. They follow the flames and find Sam on the bed with one arm shielding his face.

“Jess!” He says looking at the ceiling, where the girl is on flames.

“Sam! Sam!” They both scream at him, grabbing him by the arm.

“No! No!” Sam keeps shouting as the two shove him out the door, he struggles all the way down. “Jess! Jess! No!” Flames engulf the apartment.

A fire truck is parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Y/n looks on, then turns and walks back to Dean’s car. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, by Dean’s side loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face pure rage. Sam looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

“We got work to do.” He shuts the trunk and heads to the shotgun, leaving the other two staring at each other, not knowing how to comfort the youngest.

Author's Note: I know I'm not a good writer, but since most things are already written and I'm just addapting I think I won't hate as much as I normally do. Anyways sorry again for any mistakes.

#Let it Ride #Supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #imagine #season 1 #fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural imagine #dean imagine

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