#with the sam hands theory that’s been coming up lately too?????

[picnicpants]

am i on to something or is this some form of eldridch tiktok conspiracy brainrot

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightshifter | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, hostage situation

Word Count: 5149

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You eyed Dean angrily as he flirted with the attractive woman in front of him dressed as an FBI agent. You knew he was teasing you, and it was pissing you off. You had long since finished your interrogation of the store’s manager. Helena had apparently been a patron of the store for years. Then, one day, she went crazy; the police caught her clearing out the jewelry store’s cases and the safe before shooting someone in the face and killing herself in her bathtub after the crime. You had a sneaking suspicion you were dealing with a shapeshifter; a monster that you were quite over dealing with.

Dean approached you, triumphantly waving the piece of paper with the phone number he’d gotten from the woman he was interviewing.

You snatched it out of his hands. 

“Aw, you jealous?” he teased, leaning into you.

You deadpanned, “Keep it professional, Agent Hetfield, wouldn’t want the bureau to hear about this, right?” You ripped the paper up and shoved its tatters into your blazer pocket.

He deflated slightly, but still smirked at you. “I’m gonna make you crack, sweetheart, just wait.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, turning away from him and heading out to the Impala. Admittedly, you were strutting a little bit to tease him.

Sam met you at the car, and the three of you drove to the home of the man whose police statement had been a mix of sci-fi nerd gibberish and the only eye-witness account of the incident.

As you approached the small house, Sam began talking about another piece of the case. “Uh, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago.”

Dean raised a brow. “Same M.O. as the jewelry store?”

“Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide.”

“The guy, Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?” Dean questioned.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place.”

“Jesus,” you grimaced.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. He knocked on the screen door. “Mr. Resnick?” A bright flood light turned on, momentarily blinding you.

You raised a hand in front of your eyes. “Holy—”

Sam was apparently unfazed. “FBI, Mr. Resnick.”

Through the screen door, a chubby, nerdy-looking man in his late twenties approached. “Let me see the badge.”

You slapped your badge against the screen next to Sam’s and Dean’s. 

Mr. Resnick, whose first name was Ronald, squinted at them carefully. “I already gave my statement to the police.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, listen, Ronald, um… just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on.”

“You read it?” He seemed surprised. “You come to listen to what I've got to say?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Dean said.

“Well, come on in.” He opened the door and led you through a narrow hallway to a room cluttered with conspiracy theory paraphernalia.

“None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy,” he rushed out. You were beginning to think the same. “First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards.”

“So you let him into the bank that night, after hours,” Sam noted.

“The thing I let into the bank…” Ronald trailed off, “wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll.”

You nearly choked on a laugh. “A Juan-doll?”

“Look, this wasn't the only time this happened, okay?” He scrambled through papers on his messy desk and handed you a folder. “There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, a-and you guys, you just won't see it!” You flipped through the folder; it almost looked like a hunter’s profile of the case. You were half impressed. “Both crimes were pulled by the same thing,” Ronald finished. 

Sam pressed, saying, “What's that, Mr. Resnick?”

He picked up a copy of a magazine labeled “Fortean Times” and held it out to you. The headline read, “Birth of the Cybermen.”

‘Jesus Christ,’ you thought, suppressing a grimace.

“Chinese 've been working on 'em for years,” the man explained. “And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people.”

Dean smirked. “Like the one from T2.”

“Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a- a- a- a— Mandroid," he said finally, a bizarre twinkle in his eye.

“A Mandroid,” you deadpanned. “And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?”

He held up a finger at you, smiling a little wildly. Your eyes flicked to Dean’s in concern, and he just wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

The man returned a moment later holding a VHS tape labeled “M.N.T. Camera 4— Juan.” He inserted it into a player, saying, “See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried. Here.” He fast-forwarded a bit in the tape. “Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th- th- there it is!” He paused it on a clip of the man with a silver in his eyes. “You see? He's got the laser eyes.”

You gave Sam a knowing look that he returned.

“Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of ‘camera flare’. Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter!” You eyed Ronald uncomfortably as he continued to pace around and rant. “The Mandroid is— is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down— I'll do it myself.

"You see, this thing, it- it- it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together.” He pointed at the map on the wall. “So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries.”

Dean nodded, seeming impressed. You just looked between Ronald and Dean in confusion. 

“Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the god's honest truth about all of this,” Sam began.

Your head whipped to him, confused as to where he was going with this.

“There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?”

You kept a straight face, but were startled. 

“The laser eyes,” Ronald tried desperately.

“Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank, and that's it,” Sam mollified.

Ronald immediately became angry. “Get out of my house! Now!”

***

You and the brothers found another tacky, cheap motel to stay in for the time being. You lounged on Dean’s bed in a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. 

Dean paced around the room, chuckling. “Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that— what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?” He laughed harder. “That's messed up.”

Sam sat on the foot of the bed and inserted the tape into the television’s player. “What are you, pissed at me or something?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here.”

“Mandroid?” you deadpanned.

“Except for the Mandroid part,” Dean added. “I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy.”

“He’s not a hunter, though, Dean,” you challenged. “He ran into something real and let his conspiracy-theory-brain-rot get the best of him.”

“Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive,” Sam finished.

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, I guess.” He put a paper down on the map on the table and began marking it with a red pen. 

You shuffled forward to Sam and hit the pause button on the remote just as the man’s eyes flashed at the camera.

“Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video,” Sam informed.

“Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those fuckin’ things,” Dean grunted.

“You think we don’t?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder.”

You shrugged. “Well, look, if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri—”

“Then Ronald was right. Alright, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?”

Sam nodded.

“With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main,” Dean continued.

“Awesome,” you grumbled.

***

Later that evening, you and the brothers headed to the bank Dean referenced, the City Bank of Milwaukee, to see if the shapeshifter would be hitting that one next. You posed as Sam and Dean’s boss, and the two boys wore security camera technician outfits. 

The guard of the bank informed you as you walked along, “Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet.”

You shook your head. “No, sir, this is a glitch in the overall grid. I just need to cover all my bases and make sure the branch monitors are okay.”

“Well, better to be safe than sorry, I guess,” the guard shrugged.

“That’s the plan,” you nodded.

He opened the door to an observation room flooded with monitors for you, saying, “Alrighty. You guys need anything else?”

“Nope,” you replied. “We’ll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check.”

“Okie-dokie,” he said, leaving the room.

Dean chuckled. “I like him. He says ‘Okie-dokie.’ “

“What if he's the shifter?” worried Sam.

“Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chestplate,” the older brother replied simply.

You sat down in one of the desk chairs to watch the screens. You kicked your high-heeled feet up on the desk in front of you, leaning back in your seat. “Anybody got popcorn?” you yawned, preparing for the hours of work ahead of you.

***

You and the Winchester boys were beginning to go cross-eyed after searching for the monster for so long.

“Well, it looks like Mr. Okie-Dokie is… okie-dokie,” Dean commented upon seeing his eyes appear normal in the camera screens.

“Maybe we jumped the gun on this, guys,” sighed Sam. “I mean, we don't even know it's here.”

Something caught your eye. “Wait a minute.” A middle-aged man turned toward the camera, and his eyes flared. “Got him.”

“Hello, freak,” Dean growled.

Sam immediately jumped up, as did you, but Dean lingered behind. “Guys, wait!”

“What?” you and Sam spun around.

You then saw Ronald scurrying up to the door of the bank with a chain and a padlock, chaining it shut.

Dean scoffed. “Hello, Ronald.”

You immediately began running down the hall, ignoring the protesting of the soles of your feet as your heels clacked against the floor. As you approached the main lobby of the bank, you heard Ronald screaming for everyone to get on the ground. And then, gunshots.

“Fuck!” you cursed.

“And you said we shouldn't bring guns,” Dean scolded Sam, nearly bumping into someone fleeing past him.

“I didn't know this was gonna happen, Dean,” Sam replied.

“Just let me do the talking,” the older brother commanded. “I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson.”

You saw Ronald standing in front of a group of people huddled together on the floor. “Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So nobody's leaving, do you understand?”

Your eyes flicked to Dean concernedly as he stepped forward. “Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down—”

Ronald wheeled around. “What the— You! Get on the floor, now.”

Dean began to crouch to the floor, as did you and Sam. “Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us.”

“I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black? You working for the Mandroid?”

“We’re not working for the Mandroid!” Sam exclaimed.

Ronald shakily aimed his gun at Sam. “You, shut up! I ain't talking to you. I don't like you.”

“Fair enough,” the brunet mumbled.

“Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!” Ronald commanded one of the hostages.

“Oh, hell, no, you’re not fucking touching me,” you struggled against the man as he tried to feel you up. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), stop, stop,” Sam pleaded.

You shoved the man off yourself. Your struggle was strategic, though, as it kept him from finding the knives you had planted on yourself; one in your sleeve and one alongside your thigh.

The man moved over to Dean and found a knife stashed in his boot.

“Now what have we here?” Ronald’s question was meant to sound intimidating, but his wavering voice gave him away.

Sam shot Dean a look.

“I'm not just gonna walk in here naked!” Dean hissed back.

“Get back there,” Ronald ordered. You did so, following his pointing of the gun to the group of people behind him. He dropped Dean’s knife in the deposit box, and Dean winced.

“We know you don't want to hurt anybody,” he said. “That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?”

“No!” Ronald shrieked. “I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself.”

“Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here,” Dean replied.

“You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?” he cried.

“Come here,” Dean said.

Ronald scoffed. “What? No.”

“You're holding the gun, boss; you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something. Come here.”

Ronald approached cautiously and leaned into Dean. You assumed he was telling him who the shifter was.

“Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes,” Dean whispered.

The shorter man’s eyes widened. “His laser eyes?”

“Yes.” Dean seemed to realize what he’d said. “No. No! No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else.”

“Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar,” Ronald grumbled.

Dean stood cautiously, hands out.

“Dean, no!” you said.

“I'll shoot you! Get down!” Ronald ordered, pointing his rifle at Dean.

“Take me. Okay? Take me with you; take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast , because the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change.” Dean paused. “Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank.”

Ronald finally nodded. “Alright, you come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!”

You stood on shaky legs as the people around you gasped and cried. You helped Sam herd everyone into the vault, and Dean tried to calm everyone down when Ronald ordered him to shut the door.

“It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool.” He threw a lingering glance to you before locking the vault completely.

A young redhead stared after Dean. “Who is that man?” she asked breathlessly.

“He's my brother,” Sam replied; you could hear the worry in his voice.

“He is so brave,” she practically moaned.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

The redhead went silent for a few minutes, and you took some time to thoroughly think your situation over. ‘Cops are gonna be all over this place by now. Dean’s been accused of murder, and the three of us have already been arrested once. Dean’s on the FBI’s radar. Surely, after our escape on the danashulps case, the feds are on us again. Now, we’re smack dab in the middle of a full-on hostage situation. And who are they likely to blame? Us!’ Your anxiety was beginning to get away with you as your thoughts began to swirl in your head. You were then acutely aware of how hot the room was, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt to keep some circulation moving. 

The woman next to you who seemed infatuated with Dean introduced herself to you.

“ ‘Scuse me, sorry. Uh, hi, I’m Sherry,” she said. “You’re, uh, with those guys, too, right?”

You nodded. 

“You known them a while?”

You nodded again.

She grinned. “Oh, gosh. What’s it like being around him?”

You snorted. “ ‘Him’ who?”

“That guy! The one who saved our lives!” she beamed. “What’s he like?”

“To tell you the truth, he’s a pain in my ass most of the time,” you giggled, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Oh, really?” She deflated a bit before her floaty, trancelike inflection in her voice came back. “He just… He seems so wonderful to be around. I mean, staring down that gun. And, you know, the way— he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear, I mean—” She trailed off, turning her attention back to you. “He's like, a real hero or, or something.” She tucked a hair behind her ear as she continued to gush.

You nodded again, feeling weirded out. 

“Sorry, I just,” she sing-songed, “I’ve never met anyone like him.” She paused, seeming to consider her next question carefully. “You ever… done anything with him?”

You nearly choked at her statement, uncomfortable with the objectification of Dean. “What?”

“Y’know,” she drawled, “How good is he in the—”

You were grateful to hear the vault door unlocking, revealing Dean holding a handgun.

“Oh my god, you saved us! You saved us!” Sherry cheered.

“Actually, I just found a few more. Come on, everybody, let's go. Let's go.” Dean ushered the guard from earlier and a few other people inside the vault.

“What are you doing?” Sherry questioned.

“Sam, (Y/N), look, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you,” Dean said.

You shot Sam a confused look, and Dean shut the vault door behind him, shrugging apologetically.

“It's shed its skin again,” Dean explained. “We don't know when— it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault.”

“Great,” you sighed. “Y’know, Dean, you are wanted by the police.”

He nodded.

Sam seemed to catch onto where you were headed with this. “So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?”

“Well, one problem at a time,” the older brother replied. “Alright, I'm gonna do a sweep of the whole place; see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together we've got to play a little game of find-the-freak, so… here.” He handed Sam a silver letter opener. “Found another one of these for you. (Y/N), I know you have weapons on you. Best use ‘em.”

You grinned at how well he knew you. You slipped your silver-bladed knife out of your sleeve.

Dean turned to Sam. “Now, stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody, okay? Help him manage the situation.” He turned to you. “C’mon.”

Sam’s voice began rising in outrage. “Help him manage? Are you insane?”

You turned your head to Ronald who seemed shaken, attention caught by Sam’s voice.

“Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted—”

Dean was cut off by his brother nearly shouting, “Understatement!”

“But if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay?” Dean finished.

Ronald peered out of the window in plain view of whoever was down below. You snapped, “Ronald! Out of the light!”

Sam scoffed at his brother, “Seriously?!”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan, I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?”

Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and grabbed your hand, bringing you along with him. ‘If only Sherry could see us now,’ you thought bitterly.

Dean looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s that face about?” he questioned.

“Nothin’,” you replied, still grinning in self-satisfaction, scanning the hallway ahead for anyone or anything.

He just hummed at you, turning his head forward again.

“I hate this case,” you whispered after a few minutes of tense walking.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, still scanning the ceiling. He seemed to notice something, and you followed his gaze upward. A panel in the ceiling had been left askew. You eyed Dean curiously and took the gun from him, pointing it at the panel while Dean dislodged it with a coat rack from nearby. Suddenly, a naked body fell to the floor. Dean turned the body over with the end of the rack.

“Wait, Dean, wasn’t that?—”

“Yeah, I just let that guy in the vault.”

***

You and Dean hurried as inconspicuously as possible to inform Sam of what had just happened. Sam told you that man had been trying to get the front door unlocked and helping Mr. Okie-Dokie who may have been going into cardiac arrest when you and Dean found the body. 

You turned to Ronald and his cocked rifle. “You know what, Ronald? He's right, we've got to get this man outside. Come on. I've got you.”

The shifter tried to help, too. “Yeah, yeah, let me help you.”

“Oh, we got him, it's, it's cool. Thanks,” you replied. You helped the guard out of the way, and Sam took the man’s other side.

“Thank you. Thank you,” the guard told you between labored breaths.

“Sure,” you smiled politely.

You could hear Dean talking to the shifter and a sudden crash behind you. You turned with the guard still on your shoulders at Ronald yelling, “Stop! Come back here!” You noticed a red laser pointed on his back, and your breath caught.

“Get down! Now!” you screamed, but you were too late. 

The bullet from the sniper rifle hit Ronald squarely in the chest. You watched in horror as he fell to his knees before hitting the floor dead.

You took in a sharp breath at the sight, forcing yourself to keep your composure for the sake of everyone else in the room with you.

It was bedlam at that minute. All of the hostages began running out of the vault toward the door. You put Mr. Okie-Dokie on the ground next to you and just kept him talking until something could be done to help him. You weren’t quite sure what Sam or Dean were doing, but you made it your priority to keep this man from going into cardiac arrest.

Dean suddenly came over to you, holding a rifle.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), trust me on this—” he pleaded before helping the guard stand.

“Dean! I can help him, don’t bring him outside—”

“I’m not taking that chance, (Y/N). C’mon,” he told the guard. “I gotcha.” He held the man out in front of him and pushed him out the front door with the rifle at the guard’s back. You stayed out of the light, back pressed against the pillar next to the heavy door. 

“No, don't shoot! Don't shoot! Please!” you heard the guard yell.

Dean commanded, “Don't even think about it! I said get back! Now!” He paused a moment before you heard his voice again. “Okay, go, go!” The older Winchester slipped back inside, shutting the door and latching it.

“We are so fucked,” he mumbled to you, helping you up from the floor. 

“Fuck, why?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s about, I don’t know, eight thousand cops out there. Helicopters and search lights and everything. We are fucked, (Y/N).”

You dropped your head back, groaning, “Great.”

Dean’s phone rang, and you assumed it was Sam. “Yeah?” he answered. “What?... God, it's like playing the shell game. It could be anybody. Again… Alright, you search every inch of this place, we’re gonna go round everybody up.” He hung up the phone.

“I think this is the most stressed I’ve been on a job,” you said as you and Dean began searching for the hostages. 

“Yeah? Even more so than the demons in New York?”

“Oh, definitely. That was just a sad one; not super stressful,” you replied. You noticed a herd of people toward the end of the hall. You gripped the handle of your knife, knowing the shifter would likely be in the mix of all the hostages. 

You and Dean rounded them up; Dean pointing the rifle he picked up from Ronald at the group. You guided them back to the vault.

“And I thought you were one of the good guys,” Sherry, who held up the back of the group, told Dean, who was trailing behind her.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Why would you care?” she scoffed.

“My name's Dean,” he said. Your heart melted a bit at his gentleness with her.

She hesitated but still answered. “I'm Sherry.”

“Hi, Sherry. Everything's gonna be alright. This will all be over soon, okay?” He assured her, shutting the vault door and spinning the lock shut. The landline of the bank rang and you picked it up. You didn’t say anything when you answered the phone.

“This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen,” a commanding voice stated through the phone. “Is this Dean? Sam?”

You didn’t respond once more.

Dean mouthed to you, “Who is that?”

You shook your head, holding up a finger to gesture for him to wait.

“Oh, or is it that pretty girl? Our very own criminal Jane Doe. Some people have been calling her Ghost since no one can seem to find any record of her existence.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you still didn’t say anything.

“Well, whether you’ve got the Bonnie to your Clydes with you or not, it’s my job to bring you boys in. Alive's a bonus, but not necessary. I want you Winchesters out here, unarmed, or we come in.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“I know you’re still there,” he said, almost taunting. “I know everything about you two. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis; I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad.” 

Dean was trying to get close to the phone, but you kept pushing him away because you knew he’d explode at the mention of his father.

“Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road,” the agent continued, “cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to. You have one hour to make a decision, or we come through those doors fully automatic.” With that, he hung up the phone.

You slammed the phone down, cursing in frustration.

“What? Who was that?” Dean asked.

“The fucking FBI agent who’s been tailing us since Missouri,” you replied, beginning to pace anxiously. “He knows everything about you guys, man. Even about your dad. That’s why I didn’t let you talk to him; I knew you would’ve ripped his head off.”

“Damn right,” the man growled. “They have a positive ID on you yet?” 

“No, actually,” you said. “Ironically, some of the feds labeled me ‘Ghost’ cause they can’t find anything on me. Which makes me even more nervous. Anyway, we’ve got an hour till they come in here and pump us full of lead,” you informed him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Moments later, Sam appeared at the entrance of the vault room.

“Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “We got a problem in here.”

“What?” you questioned.

Sam hushed his voice. “The girl that was gushing over Dean in the vault? It’s her,” he told you. 

“Who, Sherry?” you questioned.

He nodded. “Just found her body.”

Barely needing to flick a glance at the boys, you unlocked the vault.

“Sherry? We're gonna let you go,” Dean called as the door swung open.

“What? Why me?” she questioned.

“Uh, as a show of good faith to the feds, come on,” he replied.

The woman hesitated. “Uh... I think I'd— I'd rather stay here, with the others.”

Dean approached her intimidatingly. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist.”

You clutched your blade at your side. After a tense moment, she approached you. Sam and Dean pushed her back to the hallway.

“I thought you were letting me go,” the woman you thought was the shifter said.

Dean shoved her forward, holding her head and forcing her to look at the body of Sherry Sam had brought back with him. She began screaming hysterically.

“Is that community theater, or are you just naturally that good?” Dean gruffly questioned.

“This is the last time you become anybody. Ever,” Sam added.

“No! Oh god!” she cried. She fainted almost immediately.

You stared at the two Sherrys in disbelief. One of the bodies was dressed, the other, half-naked. ‘Poor lady,’ you thought. You took off your blazer and laid it over the woman’s body, trying to spare her dignity. 

“Wait, why did it do that?” you questioned. You leaned over the undressed body of Sherry covered only by your blazer and put your finger on her neck, trying to find a pulse. The body immediately jolted up, grabbing you by the throat. You struggled, stabbing at it frantically. You got a lick in at its upper arm with the knife before it kneed you in the chin and bolted.

You coughed when it released your throat, clutching at your neck and coughing.

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried.

“Dean, no, I’m fine! Follow it!”

He nodded, taking your knife from your outstretched hand and running after it. You kicked off your heels and took another moment before standing and going to follow Dean. Sam had taken off somewhere with the real Sherry. 

You didn’t know what else to do besides stay with the vault and Dean’s discarded handgun, prowling in front of it with the gun at the ready. 

***

You had no idea how long it had been. You just continued to pace in front of the vault, tension overtaking your body and anxiety keeping your eyes flickering across the room rapidly. You suddenly heard approaching footsteps and dove on the ground behind a desk— unsure if it was Dean, Sam, the shifter, a cop— and were panicked at the sight of S.W.A.T. sniper rifle lasers and flashlights on the wall in front of you. Your breath quickened as the footsteps continued approaching you. Then, a masked man ducked under the desk in front of you.

You shrieked.

“Here’s Johnny!” he yelped.

“Dean! Fuck you!” You shoved his shoulder harshly when you recognized his face. He and Sam were donned in S.W.A.T. outfits that they had definitely taken off some poor bastards hidden in a broom closet somewhere. 

“C’mon, we gotta get outta here, now,” Dean told you. You grabbed your heels and followed the boys out of the building and to the Impala. Dean and Sam had their stolen guns at the ready as you sprinted up to the third floor of the parking garage. 

The three of you sat in the Impala, completely breathless, as you grappled with the reality of your situation.

“We are so fucked,” Dean murmured.

You and Sam nodded minutely.

You looked out of the window at the rising morning sun. Exhausted, you let the rumble of the Impala soothe you into a restless sleep as Dean drove you away from the bank. 

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

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

So I don't really have a concrete theory or anything, but...

Dany dreams she is fighting the "usurper's rebel host" (aka Robert Baratheon's army) but these icy enemies are obviously Others; see how they melt away the way Ser Puddles did when Sam killed him.

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper’s rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. The other was a nightmare, and I have only now awakened. She woke suddenly in the darkness of her cabin, still flush with triumph. Balerion seemed to wake with her, and she heard the faint creak of wood, water lapping against the hull, a footfall on the deck above her head. And something else.

Dany III, ASOS

In a later Jon chapter, in the very same book, an "enemy" bursts into the fray to scatter the wildlings. This enemy is a Baratheon king - Stannis. This Baratheon king claims to be the legendary Azor Ahai, but he's not (Dany is, "the dragons prove it").

Trumpets were blowing all around, loud and brazen. The wildlings have no trumpets, only warhorns. They knew that as well as he did; the sound sent free folk running in confusion, some toward the fighting, others away. A mammoth was stomping through a flock of sheep that three men were trying to herd off west. The drums were beating as the wildlings ran to form squares and lines, but they were too late, too disorganized, too slow. The enemy was emerging from the forest, from the east, the northeast, the north; three great columns of heavy horse, all dark glinting steel and bright wool surcoats. Not the men of Eastwatch, those had been no more than a line of scouts. An army. The king? Jon was as confused as the wildlings. Could Robb have returned? Had the boy on the Iron Throne finally bestirred himself?

Jon X, ASOS

I find it interesting that Jon initially thinks it's his brother, a military commander with a near spotless record, coming to rescue him. Then thinks that it should be the king on the iron throne; he's expecting a boy, but it's wasn't a boy who came.

I think that we're going to see a repeat of this in ADOS, with Dany as the real Azor Ahai and king coming to rescue Jon. Upon hearing that the Others have come and receiving Watch's call for aid, Dany will immediately choose to go North. Think of Stannis saying:

"Yes, I should have come sooner. If not for my Hand, I might not have come at all. Lord Seaworth is a man of humble birth, but he reminded me of my duty, when all I could think of was my rights. I had the cart before the horse, Davos said. I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the throne.” Stannis pointed north. “There is where I’ll find the foe that I was born to fight.”

Jon XI, ASOS

Also notice how Dany's Trident dream alludes to a fated battle involving icy monsters.

This is all just conjecture right now but, Jon's chapter has Stannis breaking the wildling siege on Castle Black. In Jon's (obviously prophetic) ADWD dream, he's besieged by a wildling host who turn out to be Others/wights - this dream is literally a play by play of the battle at Castle Black; like to a tee, it's crazy. Jon is fighting alone in that dream, just as he was alone among the wildlings before Stannis came.

So my thinking is Jon gets besieged and he is fighting alone, in need of a helper.....

They are all gone. They have abandoned me. Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. “Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again.

Jon XII, ADWD

...then enter Daenerys, who is above all a savior.

“But,” Prince Aegon said, “without Daenerys and her dragons, how could we hope to win?” “You do not need to win,” Tyrion told him. “All you need to do is raise your banners, rally your supporters, and hold, until Daenerys arrives to join her strength to yours.” “You said she might not have me.” “Perhaps I overstated. She may take pity on you when you come begging for her hand.” The dwarf shrugged. “Do you want to wager your throne upon a woman’s whim? Go to Westeros, though … ah, then you are a rebel, not a beggar. Bold, reckless, a true scion of House Targaryen, walking in the footsteps of Aegon the Conqueror. A dragon. “I told you, I know our little queen. Let her hear that her brother Rhaegar’s murdered son is still alive, that this brave boy has raised the dragon standard of her forebears in Westeros once more, that he is fighting a desperate war to avenge his father and reclaim the Iron Throne for House Targaryen, hard-pressed on every side … and she will fly to your side as fast as wind and water can carry her. You are the last of her line, and this Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, is above all a rescuer.

Tyrion VI, ADWD

Dany dreams her fight is for the iron throne, but she is obviously fighting the Others. Tyrion thinks Dany is coming to rescue Rhaegar's son in his bid for the Iron Throne, but she will rescue him as he fights to save the world (and not doom it with more war). Notice how Jon atop the Wall dons house Targaryen's colors. Notice how he too is symbolized with Azor Ahai imagery, waving a beacon to light Dany's way. It's Aegon the Conqueror reversed. Dany's not here not for the throne. She's here to fulfill a prophecy, which Aegon never did.

TL;DR

Dany will save Jon while he's besieged by the Others :)

(small rant below)

This initially started as a post talking about Dany the war commander and kinda morphed into something else....

But it's funny to me that when people talk about the war for the dawn, it's always Jon and/or Bran who are made to be the natural war commanders or battle planners. And that's not a bad thing...but neither one of them has experience planning for and staging pitched battles. Bran has zero military experience to begin with and didn't receive the same education that Robb did. People assume that he'll be the commander because his skinchanging can be used for reconnaissance and thus battle command, but the one who canonically uses their skinchanging to spy on enemy troops and use the intel is Jon.

Jon, on the other hand, has battle experience but he was defending against a siege and not leading a fight in an open field. And that's not to say that he would be a bad tactician. He did an incredible job in ASOS defending the wall and ADWD also shows us that he can come up with intelligent plans on the fly. Anyway, aren't we told that people get stuck in their castles starving and with nowhere to go? Jon has experience leading sieges so he's the most suited for that. But he's not the most suited for breaking sieges and leading open battles because he doesn't have experience doing so.

DANY is the one who actually has experience as a more well rounded military commander. It's literally in her name: Daenerys, the sacker of cities. She has a spotless record as a military/war leader in Essos. That's Robb Stark level of prodigious ability, yet she does not get nearly enough respect in fandom. Robb will often get touted as one of the top commanders, even making top three/five for a lot of people, but doesn't Dany have similar stats and way more disadvantages? Shouldn't she be up there too? So out of anyone, shouldn't she be the war commander?

I was just annoyed that she has this insane record overturning enemy lines and breaking sieges and no ever talks about how that invaluable skill can be used against the Others. It's always "someone else will command her to go here and do this and do that". When talking about what looks like a war of attrition, why is no one mentioning the human battering ram being the key to success?? Feelsbadman :(

[bleue-flora]

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.

To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.

Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.

For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.

But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.

Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.

This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.

Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.

Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”

Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Schlatt’s Limbo in the Las Nevadas stream?…

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | xi

Distance only makes the heart grow fonder, or that’s how the saying goes, at least.

Read part ten here

Listen while reading: Victim of Love - Eagles, Dreams - Fleetwood Mac, Silver Springs - Fleetwood Mac

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Sam Kiszka x f!reader, Danny Wagner x OC

Word count: ≈17k (sorry 😬)

Warnings: ANGST—fighting (verbal), fighting (physical), blood, mentions of addiction, anger, depression, mentions of alcohol abuse, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, arguing, long emotional talks, love triangle angst, insecurity, feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, sorry if i miss any!!

howdy!! long chapter, lots of plot progression, and shits finally starting to get real! thanks for sticking around and as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻 (please be mindful that this is lightly edited)

The morning came as it usually would, the sun bright in the sky and casting warmth over the already busy city. There was no cloud in sight, not even a memory of one lingering from the day before. When you woke with a migraine, your usual love for the early morning was quickly twisted into a burning hatred for the rays shining in your face. You were volatile, anger always your first emotion and sadness quickly following. There was never a moment of peace, not even within the first minute of the day. Every night you went to sleep hoping that by the morning, you would forget the ache that settled permanently in your chest, that when you took your first breath while awake, you could inhale without the pain weighing you down. The longer the days stretched on, the more you believed that you would never recover from the pain caused by your own mistakes.

It had been a week since you had spoken to either of the brothers, and you were certain that you were going insane. Every night you got on stage, playing your guitar so loud it that it rattled your bones, but it never seemed to be loud enough to overtake the deafening silence that had become you. There was a hole in your heart too large to fill with substance, and not even the presence of your sorrow could replace the vacant space in your life that the Kiszka brothers had left behind. The separation was a good idea in theory, however once you found yourself amidst the world without them by your side, you started to realize just how lacklustre life seemed without them. It was not bad enough to make you run back to them, but it was definitely bad enough to make you think about it.

You knew you needed to stay away, to keep yourself distanced in hopes of ever coming to a decision, but even if you knew it was the right thing to do, it did not make it any less excruciating. Seeing them every day without having the ability to speak to them or touch them, or even just hear them say your name felt wrong. The world was different without them in your life, and it was never in any positive way. You were trying to speed up the process, to back yourself into a corner so you could finally make up your mind, but you hadn’t seemed to make any progress. Every time you tried to narrow down your thoughts, something else threw you completely off track. You had little hope for the future, and you were ready to give up.

You reached to your bedside, eyes closed and hand in search of your only constant companion. Your fingers clasped around the neck of a bottle, still open and ready from the night before. Your plane had landed late in the evening, and by the time you all checked into the hotel, everyone was more than ready for bed. Unfortunately for you, you had found it difficult to sleep without any aid from substance. You were falling into bad habits, although some had already been present long before the pain of loving the brothers. The coping mechanisms had lied dormant, never needing to surface until you hit rock bottom. The only thing you could say for certain was that you were definitely at the bottom, and it was rockier than ever before. Your body ached from the fall, constantly searching for a more comfortable position only to find that every move was making it worse.

You placed the bottle to your lips, the liquid leaving a burn in its wake as it travelled down your throat. You placed it back on your bedside, taking a sharp inhale to satiate the sensation. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that the headache would go away on its own, and hopefully before anyone came knocking on your door. You crawled from the bed, sick to your stomach and already praying for the day to be over. You managed a shower, the warm water only slightly washing away the misery. You brushed your teeth and searched through your suitcase for some clothes. By the time you pulled your sweater over your head, the knocking began. “Yeah, I’m coming.” You grumbled, pulling the towel from your head that you were drying your hair with. You tossed it on the floor, uncaring as to where it landed and took a step towards the door. When you opened it, you saw the concerned face of your drummer, who had been nothing but overbearing since your mental decline began.

“You’re late.”

“For what?” You asked, tired of her concern before she even had the chance to voice it.

“Breakfast. You missed it.”

“Wasn’t exactly shaking in my boots for the shitty undercooked bacon.” You took a step away from the door, allowing her inside. She stayed in her place, but did take the time to look around the room before speaking again.

“You have to eat.” She stated, leaning against the doorframe. “Have you been drinking already?” She looked at the liquor bottle decorating your bedside, easily telling her you were doing just as bad as she thought you were.

“Never drank a day in my life.” You chuckled, taking your phone from its charger and checking to see if anyone had messaged. When you were met with a blank screen, you shoved it in your pocket without a hint that you cared. Of course, you did care, just not enough to make it apparent. You were hoping that one of the brothers would message, that they would say something to give you a new sense of clarity, but they were fantastic at respecting your wishes. The first few days were difficult for them, and they made few advances which were all met with blatant rejection. You hated doing it, and you didn’t want to send them away, but it was for the best. Now after going so long without them, you wished they would try again even if it was far from what you needed.

Need was a word that you had little understanding of anymore. At this point, you had forgone every need that had surfaced in the previous months, and you had no clue what you needed now to fix what you had already disregarded. There was nothing that seemed to help you sort your thoughts, and no words that could cushion the blow of the final chapter of your fucked up story. You were stuck suffering until the storm passed on its own, and it seemed like it was only beginning. “I could smell the alcohol as soon as you opened the door.” She chose not to believe you, as always. Even if she was right, it still agitated you beyond belief.

“Fuck, Dylan. Do you want to breathalyze me?” You snapped. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Something,” she shrugged, finally stepping inside. “Say anything, y/n. It’s better than whatever the hell you’re doing now.”

“You guys are going to chastise me for drinking when you’re out at the bar every night, too?” You took a seat on the edge of the bed, pulling your boots towards you. You slipped one on, tying a double knot to keep the lace in place. “I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, asking fifteen times a day surely isn’t helping.”

“We go to the bar after shows, and I think that’s a lot different than using whiskey as mouthwash first thing in the morning.” She snapped back with just as much power. “You can’t go to sleep without being drunk, and you can’t go ten minutes in the morning without a shot. You’re not fine, and I know it. I care about you, and I’m really fucking worried about you. I wouldn’t ask so much if you’d just tell me the truth.” Her tone was harsh, but not lacking love. She cared so much that she was furious, and it was hard for you to comprehend. Before your move to Nashville, you lived a lifetime of constant isolation, one where nobody cared if you were okay unless you had something to offer them. Now you were surrounded by people who cared so much that they would put their own lives on the line for you. It was intense, something that was completely foreign to you, and you had no idea how to process it. You knew that she was only looking out for you, but you had built your guard up so high that it was difficult to see over it, now.

“I’m doing my job, and I’m doing it well. That’s the most important thing, right?” You asked, tying up your second boot, too scared to look up at her face.

“No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “You can function through the pain and still drown in it. You may be doing your job, but you’re not enjoying it, and I’m scared that if you keep going like this, you’re going to drink yourself to death.” You kept your eyes on the floor, head pounding with a hangover that you hadn’t gotten the chance to drink away yet. You couldn’t look up, because she was right. You had lost your grip on your sanity, and you were barely existing anymore. Your favourite part of the day was going to sleep, just because it was a chance at a few hours of peace from your tormenting thoughts.

“I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to feel better.” You shrugged, shaking your head at your own inability to fix the issue.

“Let’s go get something to eat, and maybe I can help you figure it out.” She offered, expecting you to refuse. You thought about it for a moment, remembering the aching loneliness that existed when the door was closed. You realized that even if you were arguing, it felt better to be in someone’s company. Eventually, you gave a slow nod. A smile crossed her lips, happy at your cooperation. You stood, joining her by the door after slipping your wallet into your pocket. You both broke into the hallway without any more conversation, the fluorescent lights immediately sending a jolt of pain through your head. You squinted, trying to block out as much as you could, but your efforts were pointless. “I just have to grab my stuff from my room.” She said. You nodded, too bothered by the white light to verbally answer her.

She stopped outside of her door, keying inside and disappearing momentarily. The hallway was vacant, appearing as if the hotel was empty. No sounds were coming from the rooms, and you began to question the whereabouts of everyone else. Not that you should have, because it ultimately led back to Jake and Sam, and you were fighting with every fibre of your being to forget them for the time being. You leaned your back against the wall, head resting on the cool paneling while you held your eyes closed. You could hear Dylan rummaging around in her room, likely because she had already lost track of all her possessions. You loved her, but she was terrible for misplacing things. You were certain she would lose her head if not for it being attached to her body.

A chorus of voices from a nearby room nearly caused your heart to jump out of your chest. You looked across the hallway, trying to narrow down which room the disturbance was coming from. You listened a little closer, noticing that the voices did not seem pleasant, nor did they appear to indicate that the conversation was friendly, either. Dylan’s head peeked out from her room, looking to you with an expression that seemed to ask all of the same questions you were wondering. Before she had a chance to ask, the door across the hall busted open, the voices now filling the empty air with no limitation. Danny was the first to emerge, annoyance written on his features as plain as day. He saw the stare of Dylan’s curious eyes, finding himself immediately soften at the sight of her face. You noticed the interaction, looking between them both as you tried to piece together the conversation they were having with their eyes.

Josh appeared next, seemingly unbothered by whatever was transpiring in the room and eager to get out before it got any worse. He gave you a wave with a smile stuck on his lips. You returned the gesture, feeling your stomach sink knowing the only two people that would be left behind. You had been so uninvolved with the two that you weren’t even sure which room was theirs. In a stroke of misfortune, you thought it almost comical for one of their rooms to be directly across from Dylan’s. Josh and Danny moved out of the way of the door as the arguing grew louder, knowing that they did not want to be in the way when the two came tumbling into the hallway themselves.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking stubborn-“

“Get your head out of your ass, Jake.” Sam shot back, clearly finished with whatever conversation they were sharing. “Whole world doesn’t revolve around you.” He appeared around the corner, a scowl stuck on his lips as he walked away from his brother. He barely looked up from the floor as he emerged into the hallway, but when he finally caught sight of you, it seemed like all of his contempt disappeared instantly. He did not say hello, nor even acknowledge your existence, but he stared, hoping that you would speak first.

You were caught in a staring contest, neither willing to break the silence but both desperate to talk to each other. Everybody was watching you, wondering if you would break the week long silence that had been killing you both. Instead, Jake came barrelling around the corner with intent to continue the conversation. Your attention fell on him, now feeling both sets of eyes staring holes through you. Your heart speed, palms breaking out into a sweat and your body felt like it was completely separate from your mind. All claims of the brothers being worse than an addiction had been proven true just from the moment; all of the trouble, the horrid things you had been feeling over the course of the week without them were immediately resolved from the sight of them alone. Much like an addict looking for a fix, you were immediately drawn to them, wanting nothing more but to reach out and touch them, to hear them say everything would be okay. Against your prior judgements about their company, you felt that everything would be better if you let them back into your life.

All six bodies in the immediate vicinity were at a loss for words. The arguing between Jake and Sam striking the last nerve in the other two, leaving them with the understanding that the bickering was now permanent and unavoidable. While Josh mindlessly waited for someone to speak first, Danny was housing a silent conversation with the other drummer, and the circus of a love triangle was stagnant, all hoping to hear a word that would ease your pain, but were too afraid to initiate the conversation. They were both staring at you, and you could only look between them with longing. You had no words to express your feelings, and you had no intention to begin trying. You weren’t ready for a confrontation, and you weren’t sure if you ever would be.

“Anyway, we’re off to grab some coffee before we have to head to the venue.” Dylan spoke, breaking the tension of the awkward silence. Although she did not do a very good job at covering up her own uncomfortableness, you were forever grateful to her for giving you a chance to escape without having to say a word.

“I’ll come,” Danny said, not bothering to look to his bandmates before walking off down the hallway.

“We still need to finish the meeting!” Jake called out to the drummer, frustration evident in his voice.

“I think we’re finished, brother.” Josh laid a gentle hand on his twins shoulder, but Jake brushed him off. Instead of responding to him, Jake shot a pointed glare at the back of Sam’s head as he stormed away from the scene.

“Fine,” he muttered, taking a step back into his room. He caught your eye once more, holding your face in hopes that the emotion in his eye would motivate you to speak to him. After a moment of sharing the same silent yearning, he pushed the door shut, the slam echoing through the empty air and eventually faded away into nothing. When the storm calmed and his presence turned into a memory, you felt the ache settling in your chest with a new found intensity. Danny had made it to the elevator, looking back at you and wondering if you would join him, but you felt as if you were glued to the floor.

The pain written on both of the boys faces was enough to make you want to forget your own rules. You wanted to take it away, to tell them it was okay and you still loved them all the same, but you knew it would not lessen their pain. In fact, it would only do more damage to continue loving both of them at once, and as tempted as you were to try again, you had to bargain with the devil to keep your heart in check. Dylan slipped her hand in yours, pulling you in the direction of Danny patiently waiting by the elevator. “Sorry about them.” Josh called, making sure you knew he wasn’t a fan of their new found temperament.

“Don’t be.” You whispered, shaking your head as you walked away. There was nothing for anyone to be sorry about, unless you were the one in question. Dylan dropped her hold on your hand when you joined the third member of your group. You all wordlessly made your way to the ground floor, breaking into the lobby with no enthusiasm in your step. The day was bright, the sun blinding as you emerged outside for the first time. It took you a few moments to overcome the irritating feeling of the light in your eyes and the nervous flutter in your stomach that accompanied it. You were still caught up in the incident that unfolded in the hallway, the grief-stricken features of the boys faces when they laid eyes on you, the arguing that was apparent between them, and the exhaustion hidden in the depths of their pupils.

Their faces were covered in despair, with too much similarity to your own. The suffering extended far beyond the door of your hotel rooms, and was taking space in their beds beside them, in the exact spots in which you used to lay. You wondered if they knew how haunting their absence was for you, if they knew how much it killed you to wonder if you would ever get the chance to love them again. Then, you wondered if they did know, did your suffering serve any comfort to them, or only worsen the pain? The longer you thought about it, the worse your head ached. You could only blame the hangover for so long until you had to look further into the cause. The alcohol wasn’t aiding you in recovery, but the headache was surely a side effect from the disease that was loving a Kiszka.

The nearest coffee shop was quiet in comparison to the bustling streets. When Danny held the door open for you both, you were thankful for the relief from the noisy crowds and the burning sun. The dim lighting was welcoming, the atmosphere not too in your face, and the quiet murmur of conversation much more welcoming than the booming voices and vehicles just outside the door. You shuffled into the short line and waited your turn, lost in admiration at the decorations on the wall. When the cashier beckoned you over, you let your eyes glaze over the menu before ordering a coffee and a muffin. The other two did the same, and you all grouped together to wait for your items. When the worker slid yours across the counter, you gave a little smile and grabbed it from him. You turned in search of a place to sit, and your eyes landed on a secluded booth in the very corner of the cafe.

You took the seat by the window, watching mindlessly at the passerby’s on the street through the tinted window. You barely looked up when the other two joined you on the bench on the other side of the table. “Thanks for letting me come. You saved me a huge headache.” Danny said, hoping to catch your attention. You couldn’t find the energy to give more than your already sullen expression, nor could you give enough energy to turn your head to look at him.

“You didn’t really give us much of a choice,” Dylan teased, but without even looking, you could hear the smile in her voice. She was elated to be in his company, even if she didn’t want to speak it out loud.

“I’ll make it up to you guys.” He assured her, extending the offer to you even though he knew you weren’t interested in talking.

“They seemed pretty pissed off.” You noted, finally allowing yourself to speak your thoughts. You didn’t want to ask about them, but like a bad habit you couldn’t seem to kick, you found yourself doing it without a second thought. You didn’t need to know the nature of their distaste for each other, and you did not need to know how bad they were suffering, but it certainly felt like you did. You could continue on perfectly fine without knowing that Jake and Sam were at each others throats, and you could make your decision without the weight of their feelings on your shoulders, but you didn’t want to. Somewhere in the months of dating them, needs and wants had been skewed to the point where you could no longer tell the difference.

“Yeah,” Danny said, slow and easy to allow you the chance to back out of your initiation. He watched you, waiting to see if you wanted to go back to silence. Instead, you flickered your eyes towards him, hoping he would tell you more. “They’ve been insufferable for a while, now. At first it was just snippy remarks, nothing too serious, but now it’s almost impossible to be around them, alone or together.” You gave a slow nod, just to let him know that you were listening.

“Oh,” you said, looking down at the paper cup in your hands. The warmth was nice, warding off the chill in your fingertips. The smoking and drinking had done quite poorly for your circulation, and you found yourself cold more often than not. Maybe it also had to do with the fact you no longer had anyone around to warm you up, or to help you forget about your minor inconveniences.

“What about you?” He asked, knowing that he was close enough with you to pry a little bit. You didn’t respond, still focused on the surging heat from the coffee. “Haven’t heard much from you lately.”

“Surviving,” you said, honest but short. You were afraid that if you opened your heart, you would never be able to stop the flood of emotions that would come. “Everything gets better with time, right?” You found your lips upturn into a little smile as a chuckle fell from you lips, but it was not funny, and not one part of you believed it was. You had to laugh at the incredulity of the situation, and the hopelessness that you were covering with fake optimism. If you didn’t, the sheer weight of it would be soul-crushing.

“Will this one, though?” Dylan asked, taking a sip from her own drink.

“I’m hoping that it will.” You answered, catching sight of the muffin beside you. The thought of eating was enough to turn your stomach, and you were beginning to regret wasting the money on it.

“Maybe it’ll help if you talk about it.” She offered, eyes burning holes into your head. You fidgeted with the ring on your finger, feeling the nervous jitters already begin to take over. The thought of talking about the brothers was sending you into a panic; you had no idea where to begin, and no idea where it ended. You felt lost, stuck within a struggle that was never going to end.

“I don’t think anything can help,” you leaned back into the booth, eyes closed as you wished the scratchy fabric would engulf you just so you could escape the conversation.

“Try,” Danny offered, his tone more firm than Dylan’s. He was just as willing to comfort you, but he wasn’t willing to coddle you as much as she was. At the sound, you cracked one eyelid open, peering over at the two of them for the first time since you took a seat. They were sitting close together, much closer than two friends concerned about their other friends. Their legs were resting against each other, and he mindlessly had an arm resting on the back of the booth behind her, like he didn’t even notice the incriminating detail because it was so natural for him to do. She was leaning into his side ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know them so well, and had you looked a little closer earlier, you would have noticed that she was wearing his shirt long before that moment.

You opened both your eyes, lifting your head from the seat with a true, genuine smile forming on your lips. The confusion started on Danny’s features, and slowly spread to Dylan’s face. They had no idea where your sudden change in demeanour stemmed from, but they were certain you were going to tell them. “How long?” You raised an eyebrow, finding more energy in your body than you had felt in days.

“What are you talking about?” Dylan asked, but the nervous twitch in her eye was a dead giveaway. Her cheeks dusted red ever so slightly, leading you to believe that she really thought they were doing a fantastic job at keeping their relationship secret.

“I’m heartbroken, not blind.” You reminded. “That’s not your shirt, and you two look awfully comfortable together.” They shared a look, both bewildered at your detective work as if they weren’t all but screaming their love for each other.

“How did this become about us?” Danny raised an eyebrow, but was not refusing your claim.

“Come on,” you pleaded. “It’s exhausting always being in the spotlight. Let me rave about someone else’s relationship for once, and not my own fucked up mess.” Your tone was lighter than it was before, filled with a hint of joy at the thought of them being together.

“Fine,” she chuckled, her face burning brighter than the sun. “It started the night we signed the tour agreement.” She muttered. You felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your head with how shocked you were.

“Wasn’t anything serious at first. We just hit it off and decided to see where it would go.” Danny shrugged.

“And it went,” you laughed, feeling a sense of shame wash over you for being so oblivious. “And you guys kept it a secret for this long?”

“It hasn’t really been secret, I guess.” Dylan said, toying with the straw in her iced coffee. “Just never announced it.”

“You should have told me!” You sat up, now completely immersed in the topic at hand.

“I guess… we just figured that you had so much going on, we didn’t want to add any more stress.” The words equated to a stab in the chest. You couldn’t hide your grimace, even though you tried your absolute best to do so. Your discontent had nothing to do with the relationship between them, but everything to do with your own selfishness over the past weeks. You were so caught up in your own hurt that your best friends thought it best to keep their biggest news to themselves.

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. “I’m so happy for you guys, and I’m so sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

“No,” Danny shook his head, stopping you from speaking any further. “We always knew we could tell you. It’s not like that. We just didn’t wanted to make sure that we were going to work before announcing anything, and all you do is worry about people. We knew you were going to worry no matter what, even if you didn’t need to.” He clarified.

“Well, yeah. That’s what I do best.” you managed a laugh. “I just… wish I wasn’t so distracted. Feels like I’ve been missing out on everything while caught up on just… something.” You attempted to word your statement correctly, but it didn’t seem to be close to how you were really feeling. “But I want to celebrate with you, to pop out the champagne bottles and balloons. You guys are my best friends, and I think this is something worth celebrating.” You explained, taking a small sip from your cup. “You guys look great together, and I’m so happy that you seem happy.”

“We can pop out the champagne bottles whenever, y/n. Life’s full of celebration, and it doesn’t have a timeline. When we do it, I want you to be happy, too. I don’t want you cheering for us and drowning when you’re by yourself.” Dylan explained. “Celebrating is for when everybody is happy, so once you get there too, we can all blow up balloons.” You smiled at her words, but it was not genuine. Although the concern was endearing, you had two issues with it; you felt like the misery would never end, and by wording it that way, it just seemed like they didn’t want to brag about their fantastic romance while you were crushed under the weight of your own love life. You knew logically that it was not the case, but emotionally, you believed it to be the truth.

“Okay,” you nodded. “When the time comes, we’ll party so hard that we’ll never want to party again.” You offered. The two shared a laugh, agreeing with the sentiment. They seemed to relax their posture, leaning into each other with less hesitancy.

“Now it’s your turn to talk.” Danny reminded, not willing to let you off the hook so easily. Your eyes fluttered to him, showing displeasure with his statement. He didn’t seem to care, and you knew he never would. When it came to talking about your problems, he would never let you walk away. He had let you sulk for longer than he liked, and he wasn’t willing to let you suffer alone any longer. Plus, he was eager to resolve the tension in hopes that the brothers would be more pleasant to deal with. It didn’t take a genius to see that their frustration with each other was ultimately tied to their love for you, and the more time that passed, the worse all three of you felt.

As you thought about the proper way to express how you were feeling, your mind seemed to drift elsewhere. Your thoughts settled on the simplicity between the couple before you, how natural they seemed to be, and how comfortable they felt with his arm around her. You weren’t sure you had ever felt that way with either boy. It had always been difficult to love them, prosing feelings of guilt and disdain. Just when you seemed to slip into routine, it would come crashing down with a declaration of emotion or hurt feelings. You tried to imagine which brother you would be most comfortable with, which one you could exist with similarly to Danny and Dylan, but every answer was painful, and the most logical was neither of them.

The thought of laying the situation to rest and coming out without a hand to hold was excruciating. After so much love and care you had experienced from them and given them, it was blasphemous to imagine a future where neither existed. You challenged every aspect of your own moral compass, and pushed every boundary you had cemented in place. In the months spent with the Kiszka brothers, you had completely reinvented yourself. In some ways, it was fantastic. In others, it was repulsive. You had learned how to love, and that you were capable of doing so after so long believing you weren’t. You had learned to love yourself despite your flaws, and how to let someone else inside the gate to your heart that you had welded shut long ago. At the same time, you realized your own power to hurt another, and the pain that came alongside loving someone so completely. You spent a lifetime believing that the perfect love would come easily, and it wouldn’t hurt you the same as it did in the past. Now, you had to come to terms with the fact that it was not true, and the reality was that when you open yourself to someone so fully, it is anything but easy, and it is bound to hurt sooner or later.

Intimacy is difficult, and love is terrifying, but all things considered, it was so beautiful that it made the downsides near obsolete. The hurt that came from your love for them proved you were human, and that you were capable of all things you swore you weren’t. Worst of all, it showed you that love was worth the pain, especially if it was love for Sam and Jake. You cared about them so much that hurt was unimportant as long as it meant you were able to love them in the end. You hated admitting that the situation that had been so difficult to overcome had also taught you so much, but it was true. Their love, despite the turmoil, had shown you the most beautiful parts of life that you otherwise never would have cared to see. No matter what happened in the end, you would forever be grateful for the time you were lucky enough to spend with them. Whether you walked away with Sam, or Jake, or even neither of them, you could not find it within yourself to regret opening your heart to them. Mistakes made along the way had shown you how to do better next time, and you were no longer afraid of falling, because you had learned that getting back up was easier than the fear of falling itself.

Despite your revelations, you sat and studied the two bodies before you. You watched as she slipped her hand into his, how they shared jokes with their eyes and smiled at the slightest of movements. They were joyous at the thought of loving each other, and as happy as you were for them, you were incredibly envious. You were desperate to love without guilt, and aching to be loved without anything standing in the way. You wondered if you would ever have that with either boy, but had to stop the thought before it started. To wish to love them like so was only a luxury you could have when you knew which boy you craved it with, and that decision was still long to be made. You knew you wanted it, but not who you wanted to do it with. Your own indecision was killing you, but you did not have the resources to come to a conclusion. You weren’t sure if there were enough resources on the earth to deal with such a harsh situation, but you knew the clock was ticking near the end. If you didn’t decide soon, you would succumb to your own stupidity.

“I don’t know how to feel anymore,” you finally spoke. “I’m so caught up in my own head that I’ve barely been able to get out of bed. I’m so scared of hurting them that I’m hurting myself instead, and it’s just not going away.” You let your head fall into your hands, trying to keep it from collapsing under the weight of your sorrows. “I love them. I love them both so much that it pains me to think about it, sometimes, and every time I think I’m coming close to a decision, something else happens to change my mind. I can’t stay stuck loving both of them for the rest of my life, but I don’t know if I can let either of them go.”

“Okay,” Danny said, soaking in the mess words you had poured out. “You need to stop worrying about them, y/n.” He wasn’t blind to the hurt that Jake and Sam had been feeling, but his lack of sympathy for them was greater than his concern for their turmoil. “What I told you way back in the beginning, that was true. I still feel that way, and even if they’re hurting over this too, it doesn’t make it fair that they backed you into a corner. I’m sorry, because I know I encouraged you to entertain it, but I never meant for you to hurt this bad over it.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. No, they shouldn’t get away with this anymore, but I certainly didn’t help myself. I never thought I was invincible, but I really didn’t think it would be this bad.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes that it would stop the pounding against your skull. “Entertaining both may have taught them a lesson, but I knew that there was no way out of this without hurting someone. I taught myself more lessons than anything else.” Your hands dropped to the table, returning back to the cup in hopes that the warmth would not only sooth your skin, but maybe distract you from the incessant ache in your chest. “I never should have let it get to this, and I should have never believed I could outdo the masters at their own game.”

“They’ve definitely learned their lessons, y/n.” Dylan said, looking between you and Danny, desperate to help. “I know you’ve been avoiding them, but we all see it.”

“They are impossible to be around. They’re arguing all of the time, and I think they finally understand that what they’re doing is wrong. They’re both so in love with you, and they’re mad at the other for the same thing. They’re ready to lay it to rest, you’re ready to lay it to rest, and you don’t have to feel guilty for making a decision. They knew what all of the possibilities were when they started this.” Danny explained. “Don’t kill yourself with guilt. Your heart wants what it wants, y/n. I know that somewhere in your brain you know who you want to be with. You know which one feels comfortable, which one is easygoing, and which one fulfilling. You might not recognize it when you think of it, but you feel it when they’re around.”

“It feels like…” you started, but stopped yourself before going any further. You thought about your words, carefully picking them from your brain and arranging the perfect way to explain how it felt to love them. “You kill a plant when you give it too much water.” You stated, eyes focused on the scribble on the lid of your coffee cup. “You hold something tightly to protect it, but it still slips from your fingers and you break it. You always snap the strings on your favourite guitar, not because of misuse, but overuse. You exude so much caution when walking on ice, and you still fall and break your wrist.” You trailed off, tapping your foot against the ground to calm your nerves. “You care too much about something, and end up destroying it. That’s how it feels to love them. I try so hard to be the best for them, to love them properly, just to make sure that when I pick, I am certain that my heart is in the right place. I keep hoping that by being genuine, by pouring my soul into loving them, the answer is going to surface on its own, but it’s nowhere to be found. In fact, it’s further away than it was when this started. The harder I try, the worse it gets. The more I care, the more it hurts. I have no idea what’s right, or what’s wrong, and sometimes I feel like the best way to decide is to stop caring.”

The two watched, unsure of how to respond. After a moment, Dylan spoke first. “You should write music. With words like that, you could win awards.” She said, a smile toying on her lips. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed, but a laugh was rising in your throat. “By now, I should know which one feels right, but they both do, even if it’s in their own fucked up ways. Some things are easy with one, and hard with the other, but neither of them are ahead in that race. As for love… how can you explain how you love someone? And how can you differentiate when you love two things so similarly and so much?”

“Similarly,” Danny noted, cutting off your rambling. “You love them similarly, but not the same. You just need to find out which one is better for you. Not in general, not to anyone else, but the love that you get from them… it needs to suit you, and what you need. Once you figure that out, you’ll have your answer.” You gave a slow nod, finally latching on to the first piece of advice that had spoken to you. Throughout the entire ordeal, any advice or help seemed to wash off the same as rain on a sunny day. Danny was right, and his words struck you harder than a blow to the stomach. You had to stop thinking of them as the same, because it made it impossible to offset their differences. Although they were alike, they were two completely different people, and they deserved to be recognized as such. They prompted different emotions within you, different reactions, and they loved you in two completely unique ways.

A decision was not impossible, you just needed to look at it through a different lens. Perspective was important, and it was something you had been lacking. You viewed the situation through tunnel vision, with one outcome and nothing more. A world of possibilities were in your hand, and you just needed to know what possibility complimented the future you envisioned for yourself. “I’m good at being alone. I always have been, and I thought I liked it.” You sighed. “Now I’m starting to think I hate it, because seclusion is tempting until I’m faced with the thought of never being loved again. I want to push them away, to pick neither of them to spare some heartache, but I’m so scared of never being loved again that it almost paralyses me.”

“There’s plenty of love in this world for you, y/n. If you decide that you don’t want to be with either of them, that’s okay, too.” Dylan said, the third option more tempting than most other thoughts.

“I know.” You nodded. “I’ll be loved again, even if it’s not by them. I know I can love, and I know people can love me. But, I know that I will never feel love like this again if I let both of them go. As much as it kills me, it’s been the most fantastic thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“That’s up to you to decide,” Danny said, hoping to catch your eye. “That’s what we’re saying. Nobody gets to tell you how to feel, or who to pick, because only you know what’s right for you. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. They’re going to hurt, and there’s no way to avoid it, and you are too. What matters is that you’ll all get over that and move on, even if it takes a while. You can’t let hurt stop you from moving forward, because you’re hurting just the same while you’re stuck here. The only thing that you need to know what is going to make you the happiest in the end.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, feeling his reassurance chipping away at some of the weight on your shoulders. “I guess I’m just scared of almost’s. Almost happy, almost succeeding, almost there, almost home. I’m terrified of making the wrong decision and having the right one be just out of reach. I’m scared of coming close, but happiness being just a little too far away. I feel like I’ve lived my life being almost there, but I never seemed to find the courage to take the last step. I’m sick of mediocrity, and I’m desperate to be content. I’m scared that I’m going to pick one when the true happiness is with the other.”

“That’s your problem, bug.” Danny finally reached out, grabbing your hand in his own like he’d done a million times before. This time, it felt different. This time, it felt like he was giving you all of the answers to the universe. “You’re chasing after happiness like it’s a destination. We’re not born to follow a path to be happy. It comes along the way.”

“Yeah,” Dylan agreed, reaching out for your other hand. “You get to make the happiness, not wait for it to find you. Whoever you pick is going to be the luckiest bastard to ever walk this earth, but they are not going to be the reason for your happiness. You are, and they just get to make it even better.” You let your eyes flutter closed, hoping that your eyelids would block the tears desperate to be shed. Still, despite your efforts, one slipped out and rolled down your cheek. You had never felt so much love, and it had nothing to do with romance. You had found yourself so frantic for love that you had tricked yourself into believing it could only exist romantically. In truth, love surrounded you all of the time. You had friends willing to pause their own happiness to help with yours, people who would give their lives to ensure you could live on. Even if your predicament turned volatile, you knew you had an army of friends who would support you until you could walk on your own again, and they would do it without a single complaint.

Whoever you picked, whether that be Sam or Jake, or even neither of them, you would find happiness within your choice because it was the first one you had ever truly made for yourself. All pain had to come to an end eventually, and you were stuck on a road that was rockier than some others. You might have a flat tire, or some scrapes and bruises, but you would come out fine on the other side. You knew it was time to stop thinking of the situation as the end of the world, but rather the beginning. “Thank you.” You gave both of their hands a squeeze, taking in a long breath. “I needed that.” You laughed, releasing your hold on them to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“That’s what we’re here for.” Dylan assured you, sending a smile your way. “You take as long as you need to. Nobody is telling you that you need to know right now, but you can’t keep punishing yourself for mistakes all three of you are making.”

“I know, you’re right.” You let out a long sigh, releasing all of the tension you had been holding. “I’ll get through this, and I’ll be better for it. No matter what happens.” The two smiled, nodding along with your words and happy that you’d come to that conclusion. “But you know what? I’m mad. All the love and sadness aside, I’m so angry with them. I told them in the beginning that this was stupid. I warned them that this was a terrible idea and someone was bound to get hurt, but they were so damn cocky that they wouldn’t listen to a word I said.” Danny let out a laugh at your words.

“Yeah, that’s Jake and Sam. Always sure of themselves and never willing to admit they’re wrong.” He said, leaning back in the booth again.

“You can say that again.” You agreed, not needing him to confirm your opinion. Just as you did, all of your phones let out a simultaneous chime. You shared a look, still meticulously sipping on your drinks, knowing exactly what the messages contained. “Show time.” You grinned. “No time for emotions, we’ve got a city to impress.” Without another word, you all slid from your seats, stretching as you got to your feet. Danny walked first to the door, holding it open for the both of you as you broke out into the street once more. The afternoon air was refreshing and the sun less harsh now that your hangover had passed and settled into a dull memory.

“You know, if you’re angry, show them.” Dylan said, quiet enough that only you could hear her. She was leaned into you, away from Danny who was walking on the other side of her.

“What do you mean?” You asked, noticing the group of people pooled in front of the entrance to the hotel. There were cars waiting to take you to the venue, and the rest of your company was patiently awaiting your arrival.

“I mean, you’ve been sad and secluded. Show them you’re angry, not heartbroken. Get up on stage tonight and tell them how angry you are. Music speaks to the heart, right?” She explained, the three of you now in earshot of the rest of the boys. “If you can’t talk to them, you have to find another way to tell them how you’re feeling.” You thought about her idea while you joined Riley near one of the vehicles. Her words seeped into your brain, the logic irrefutable and tempting. Music was your only outlet, and happened to be the best outlet for the way you were feeling. If you could speak the words to tell them how you felt, you could definitely sing them.

You climbed into the backseat, followed closely by the rest of your bandmates. You were barely able to focus on the small talk Dylan and Riley found themselves in, which was not abnormal for you lately. This time, it was not due to your lack of interest, it was simply because you were itching to get to the venue and get on stage. The city passed by in a blur as you watched out the window while pedestrians carried on with their day. Sometimes, now with the life you were living, you forgot what it was like to live a simple life, one where you walked on the street without recognition and went to sleep every night with nobody knowing your name. Part of you missed it, even if you were living your dream. Fame was not exactly the word you would use to describe your current situation, but it was definitely close to it. You had fans, people who spoke about you in twitter chains and posted concert pictures as if your shows were important. You were noticed at stores, even asked for pictures every so often, and your interviews were being uploaded to YouTube and written in magazine articles. It was far from the fame the boys found themselves in, but with time, you knew it would not be out of the question for you to live the same kind of lifestyle.

Although you were not fully immersed in the culture of a rockstar, you had a taste of it every now and again. Fans approaching you was still a foreign feeling, but it was exhilarating. Sharing your art with the world was beautiful in its own way, even if you did miss the seclusion of your life prior to touring. The idea of always having someone know your name was different, and a bit hard to adjust to. Every day, your Instagram pages gained more attention and followers, as did the rest of your social media. You had people reaching out for more recording opportunities, and you for once felt like you made it in the world you had previously had so much doubt about. You had everything you ever wanted, but it still seemed a bit lacklustre. The only thing you could accredit the dullness to was your indecision between Jake and Sam. You thought that your life would be picturesque and perfect, even, if you could cut out the pain of being stuck in the middle. In truth, it had nothing to do with your own conflicts, and it had everything to do with the lack of love. You thought maybe you would truly be fulfilled if you had someone to share the experience with, and that was hard to swallow, especially for someone who had be so adamant on being alone for her whole life.

When the car rolled to a stop, you practically fell over yourself getting out. Riley and Dylan followed, looking to you for guidance on where to go. You reached into your pocket, retrieving a cigarette pack and a lighter. You pulled one out for yourself and offered it to the other two. They grabbed one, assuming that this was your version of a meeting. You lit your own, trying your best to ignore the bodies surrounding the car ahead of yours. You could feel two sets of eyes staring, but you were confident that your willpower was strong enough to ignore them. “Let me lead the soundcheck,” you said, flicking the ash from the end of your cigarette. “I’ve got a couple songs I want to try out.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dylan said, hiding a smile that was begging to break through. “Care to enlighten us?”

“Mmm, no.” You shook your head. “It’s a surprise.” With that, you heard Aaron calling for you all to go inside. You flicked the butt to the ground and stepped on it, immediately stepping towards the doorway. By now, sound checks, meetings and rehearsals were routine. Your anxiety had completely vanished, and you were no more nervous showing up at venues than you were your recording job back home. You were just as good at performing as you were at your college degree, and you felt more comfortable on stage than you had ever felt in your entire life.

You let the boys enter first, then followed close behind. Aaron was quick to shoot orders as you stepped inside, but it was nothing new to you. He was a fantastic friend outside of work hours, and a fantastic manager. Still, it took some time to get used to the strict schedule he aimed to uphold. “You’re up first.” Aaron pointed to the side stage as he walked beside you. “Schedule’s a bit tight today; only have about forty minutes for you guys to finish up.”

“We’ll make it quick, then.” You assured him, taking off towards the stage. Your Les Paul was sitting there, shining with a new polish and unfortunately, a new set of strings. You had broken one at the last show and ultimately came to the decision to replace them all, knowing that after the use they were getting, the rest were bound to follow. You slipped the strap over your head, strumming the strings. You grimaced at the sound, all of the strings perfectly out of tune from the last time you had picked it up. You took to the tuning pegs, carefully winding them up while you plucked them. When the tone sounded right, you looked towards your drummer. “Fuckin’ things.” You grumbled, kicking on a pedal.

“At least she looks nice.” She nodded towards the spotless finish on the body. You gave a shrug, unable to disagree. While she waited, she was gently tapping her sticks against the rim of one of her drums, sending an echo of metallic clinging through the air. She was always antsy, ready for action as soon as the opportunity arose, and you loved her for it. She was the best person to have by your side all of the time, and a fantastic motivation to keep going even when you didn’t want to anymore.

“She’s always beautiful,” you corrected, flashing a smile after your statement. “You guys ready?”

“Whenever you are.” She said. Riley gave a thumbs up, always content no matter what was happening.

“Keep up, now.” You teased, feeling a shred of your personality making a return. You hit the first few notes, finding the sharp sound from the new strings add to the already strong intro. You looked out to the empty stadium, finding the four boys looking up at you from the barricade. It was a tradition you had all taken upon yourselves, realizing that soundcheck was your only opportunity to genuinely see each other in a proper concert setting. It was intimate, it was nice, and It was exactly what you were counting on, but it did not mean that it was easy to see Sam and Jake’s sad eyes staring up at you.

Riley quickly joined in with the bass line, a smile stuck on his lips. He loved the song, but it was not one you played often, and It was arguably one of the most enjoyable songs to sing together. Dylan slammed the sticks to the drums in a beat of three, happy to go along with anything you wanted to play. They were both the most easygoing bandmates you had ever come across, never caring too much about what you did as long as they could do it with you. You finished the picking for the intro and Dylan lead you in with a fill. You jumped to the mic, looking first at Riley to make sure you had the confidence to perform it as you intended to.

“What kind of love have you got?

You should be home but you’re not.” You sang, strong and steady. The feeling of the music in your bones always seemed to take hold of you, transforming you into a completely different person when you were on stage. You strummed the power chords, watching as Riley leaned into the mic to join you.

“A room full of noise and dangerous boys,

Still makes you thirsty and hot.” He sang through the rest of the first verse, looking to you to pick up where he left off only to find you looking in a completely different direction.

“Victim of love, I see a broken heart

You got your stories to tell” you caught Jake’s eye, singing directly to him. He held your gaze, desperate for even an ounce of attention from you, but clearly displeased by your song choice. Although it felt nice to be seen by you again, he would have preferred it not be in a display of your fucked up romance on stage. Before he could get to upset over your theatrics, your attention had already shifted to his brother who sat seats away, leaving Danny and Josh in the middle to act as a barrier between him and Jake. “Victim of love, it’s such an easy part

And you know how to play it so well.” You did not linger over Sam’s face for a reaction, not wanting to make it overtly obvious that you were speaking to them through the song. You looked back to Riley as you began the second verse.

“Some people never come clean,

I think you know what I mean, oh

You’re walkin’ the wire between pain and desire

Looking for love in between.” You stepped back, losing yourself in the guitar as Riley finished the verse for you. You sang the chorus again before getting into the solo, making sure to look everywhere but the two boys you were singing about. It was a short solo, but one filled with emotion, and heightened even further by the own anguish existing in your heart. You let Riley sing the next chorus, echoing in the background as he took the spotlight. When the last lines drew near, all eyes were on you as you prepared to end the song.

“You’re just a victim of love

I see a broken heart

I could be wrong but I’m not, no I’m not

Victim of love

Now you’re a victim of love

We’re not so far apart

Show me, what kind of love have you got?” You were breathless, heart erratic as it tried to keep up with the energy radiating from you. Riley joined you in echoing the last line twice before cutting out all of the instruments abruptly, leaving the impact much larger than you thought it would be. The brothers sat, a grim look on their features as you swiped the hair from your face. You didn’t bother looking back at them before jumping straight into the next song, eager to prove a point. Though your point was long past proven, and now you were only rubbing salt in an already fatal wound. The boys were well aware of your hurt; they could see it written clearly across your face while you sang. Part of them felt remorse for making you feel such a way, but a bigger, more immature part of them was blaming each other for putting you in the position.

You plucked the melody, frustrated that you had to stop and retune the strings. Your hands were shaking, emitting all of the pain you had kept locked away for days. When your fingers returned to the fretboard, you could barely keep them steady. You picked a tune, looking to Dylan in hopes she would recognize it. It only took her a second before she caught on, nodding her head in understanding. You kicked off the distortion, waiting for her to lead you in. She hit a few beats, triggering Riley as if it were instinct. It was a game the three of you liked to play; it kept you in sync with each other, and helped you to remember how fundamentally important each of you were to the band. You continued with the tune, adding a touch of reverb with your pedals. You took to the mic, ready to open your heart to the intimate audience. You thought it would be more difficult to play for a huge crowd, but the struggle lied within the people, not the number. You were desperate to impress, and at the same time, long overdue for the release of emotion. Of all the experiences you had shared with the four boys, this was by far the most profound display of vulnerability you had ever shown.

“Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom

Well, who am I to keep you down?

It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it

But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness

Like a heartbeat drives you mad

In the stillness of remembering what you had

And what you lost

What you had

Oh what you lost” you closed your eyes, finding it almost painful to look in their direction as you sang. Even as you closed your eyes, you could see their faces as clear as day. You knew them so well that you were sure that their faces were permanently engraved in your brain, destined to stay even if decades separated you. You sang the chorus, your stomach sick at the thought of the hurt you knew was written in their features. You did not have to look, because you could feel the weight of emotion in the room. As much as you thought your display was immature, you could think of no better way to explain yourself. As you finished the chorus, you slowed your fingers, changing the tune effortlessly while blending it with the previous song. It was something you had done a time or two with your bandmates, and had they not known your playing so well, they would never be able to keep up with it.

Instead of continuing with ‘Dreams’, you switched into the solo of ‘Silver Springs’. Riley softly plucked along with you, and Dylan slowed her drumming to a near stop to allow you the moment. She picked up in the middle, hitting a few fills before quieting herself once more. You carried on for a few seconds more, then all three of you buckled down with the intensity of your playing.

“Time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me

I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me.” You looked to Sam, feeling your throat constrict with the threat of tears. You looked towards Jake before continuing.

“I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you

Give me just a chance

You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Was I such a fool?” You sang, blinking away the pooling tears in your eyes. Dylan and Riley were echoing you in their own microphone’s, but ultimately leaving you to air out your head. Dylan picked up her pace as you repeated the earlier lyrics, all of you growing more passionate the longer you played.

“You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you” Dylan and Riley sang the line while you played, singing passionately atop of them.

“Never get away,

Never get away

You’ll never get away!” You took a breath, all of you settling back into a slow melody.

“You could be my silver springs, my

Blue green colours flashing.” You took a step back, knowing that the shine of tears on your cheeks was incredibly apparent under the burning stage light. You slipped the strap over your shoulder, placing your guitar on its stand, and walked off stage without another word. You wiped your tears before anyone could notice, nearly running into Aaron as you tumbled by. Dylan and Riley were behind you, ready for damage control if needed, but the weight that had been sitting on your chest seemed lighter than ever.

“You play like that tonight and I’ll start a record company of my own just to sign you on.” Aaron said, flashing you a smile.

“Better start working on it, then.” You laughed, feeling better than you had in days.

“Consider it done.” He chuckled, but was soon swallowed by the group of people moving towards the stage to switch out the instruments. You shuffled through the side door to the main floor of the arena, heaving a breath as you saw the boys come into sight. You walked towards them, hands out towards your sides and a smile on your face as if to ask them what they thought of the show.

“You’re stealing our spotlight, you know. Pretty soon, we’ll be opening for you.” Josh said, a grin plastered on his face. You shook your head, shutting the notion down before it could make any headway. He opened his arms, inviting you in for a hug. He could see the pain still hidden behind your eyes, but felt an invisible barrier between you. As much as he would have loved to be your shoulder to cry on, he felt that it would betray his brothers in some way. Josh had done fantastic at keeping out of the mess you all had created, but it did not mean he was blind to the effects. You practically fell into his arms, relieved at the familiarity but put off by the foreignness. So similar to the arms you craved, but different all the same.

The hug only lasted a moment, but you wished the bubble of comfort could have remained forever. When you were separated from the protection of his arms, you were faced with the staggering reality that you would not be able to ignore his siblings forever. You looked just slightly over your shoulder, catching a momentary glimpse of Sam. Your heart felt like it stopped, and your body yearned for him to come closer. He noticed your eyes, mostly because he never took his own away from you. You were the centre of the universe for both of them, the sole thing that kept them standing and the cushion to fall on if they were to falter.

There was no way you could look away from him now, he had already settled on you like a hunter looking for prey. He stepped towards you, dusting a light hand over your lower back but maintaining a respectable distance. Although he wanted to break every rule you had put into place, he knew it was better not to. “That was quite the performance, Princess.” He hummed, voice low so only you could hear him. Josh had quickly forgotten about your conversation and moved into one with your bassist, leaving the two of you on your lonesome. Well, alone unless you were counting Jake’s fury-filled gaze that was permanently fixed on the two of you. It was heavy, but you were both too involved in each other to notice.

“Sorry,” you whispered, feeling a sense of shame for the display you allowed for yourself.

“Don’t be. I’m glad you got it out.” He assured you. It had been days since you had spoken, and longer since you had felt his hands on you, but it seemed like no time had passed. You were just as comfortable with his touch, and just as welcoming of his love. You thought that maybe that was your sign, the comfortability that came with his company. “You’re gonna make one hell of a rockstar, y/n.”

“That’s bold coming from you.” You could feel a smile fighting its way onto your lips. Despite knowing that you should walk away, you couldn’t help but feed into the feeling of being with him again. “It’s very dark in your shadow, Sammy.”

“No shadow could ever cover all that talent. You were meant for that stage, even if it sucks when you’re singing songs about how stupid I am.”

“Don’t be so stupid, then.” You bit back a giggle.

“I’m trying.” He tightened his hold on you ever so slightly. “For you, I’m trying.” You finally managed the strength to look at his face. Once you did, you wished so badly that you hadn’t. As soon as you laid your eyes on him fully, you felt the same rush of emotion that you had been trying so hard to suppress. It was like within a second, you had fallen in love with him all over again.

“I know.” You breathed, fighting the urge to lean up and kiss him. You knew it would do nothing but make matters worse, but the devil was urging you to believe that it would solve everything. “I know, Sam.” You cut yourself off, feeling the need to shake the incessant thoughts from your mind. “You’re gonna do great tonight.” Your voice was strained, like you were forcing the wish of luck. In a sense, you were, but it was not because you thought their performance would be poor. It was because you did not want to end the conversation, even though you knew you had to.

“You, too.” He mumbled, feeling his face move closer to yours. For a second, just before your eyes fluttered closed, you pulled yourself back to reality. With a sharp intake of breath, you both stared at each other as you faced the reality of what you were about to do. “I’m sorry.” He said, removing his hand from you.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, but it was everything but okay. Not the fact he wanted to kiss you, but the fact that you wanted it too, and more than you wanted anything else. You opened your mouth to say something more, but couldn’t seem to find any words. Instead, you gave a tight-lipped smile and took a step away from him, chest aching at the thought of leaving him behind. You hated that it seemed like you had become strangers after spending so much time learning everything you could about each other. You were struggling with going from everything to nothing at all, and you had no idea how to move past it.

You took Dylan’s side, who was inches away from Danny. You couldn’t be mad at them for being happy, but it sure did hurt to see them fall in love while you had to learn how to fall out of love. Dylan immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulder, aware of the situation you had just shied away from and aware of the turmoil that was already running rampant in your brain.

“Fantastic work, as always.” Danny complimented. You gave a weak smile and muttered a thanks, still mentally invested in the moment you had shared with Sam.

“What, that little performance?” You tried to slide in a joke, just to ease the tension in the air. To follow, you let out a light scoff to solidify your humour. He let out a chuckle, rolling his eyes at your antics, but opting not to respond.

“Watch out,” Danny said, eyes shifting to his left. “He who shall not be named number two is coming over.” A feeling of panic rose in your chest, wanting to look and see who he was talking about, but knowing you shouldn’t. You were barely recovered from your interaction with Sam, and you knew one with Jake would only push you closer to insanity. “You can run, I’ll cover for you. I’m good at thinking on my feet.” He offered, but running would not get you any further. If you avoided him now, it would only lead to a worse situation later on.

“It’s okay.” You promised, but once again, it was far from okay. You hoped that somehow the floor would open up and swallow you whole, just so you could get out of a conversation with him. Before you could think any further, you could feel another body present itself beside you. From the look on Danny’s face, you knew all too well who was standing there. When the couple before you turned towards each other to give you privacy, you knew that you were stuck facing the harrowing reality that you couldn’t escape him.

“Every time I think that you couldn’t impress me any more, you seem to find a way.” The low tone settled in your soul, and despite feeling the urge to push him away, it wrapped around you like a warm hug on a cold day. “But I can’t help but think that the performance was pointed at me, Gold Dust Woman.”

“Seem to be forgetting our rules, Jacob.” You forced the words out, feeling choked by the overwhelming scent of sandalwood. Underneath the punch of the initial scent, it was calling to you like home would after a long while spent away.

“Seems like Sam has, too, but it didn’t look like you were calling him on his shit.” His words came out harsher than intended, his own hurt showing through his tough exterior. He didn’t want to approach you with any kind of hostility, but it was hard to hold back after seeing you almost fall back into the arms of his brother, especially since it had been so long since he was able to hold you.

“So you came over to fight?” You asked, keeping your eyes glued to the ground. You were defeated already without even given a fighting chance.

“I-no, y/n. I didn’t come over to fight.” He started with a defence, but realized that he had nothing to defend. You weren’t fighting, and he didn’t want to, either. “I came over be-“

“You guys are up! We don’t have much time!” Aaron called from the stage, cutting him off mid-sentence. You could see the anger flicker in Jake’s eyes, but he couldn’t argue with the boss. He stared at you for a moment, hoping you would at least look at him. After a second of silence, you did. When you caught sight of his face, you thought your legs were going to collapse from under you. The air in your lungs was stolen, and you wished so badly that he could stay.

“I came over because I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” He confessed, the truth heavy but without question. “I miss you, and I know that you need space, but I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Clocks ticking, boys!” Aaron reminded, but aimed to keep his scolding light. You felt like it was impossible for you and Jake to break the staring contest you had found yourselves in. You could see the restraint in his eyes, and it was evident he was not keen on leaving. Even after the rest of his band made their way to the stage, he was stuck in the limbo with you, wondering if you would speak or if he would leave empty-handed. You couldn’t seem to find the words, wanting to tell him everything and anything he wanted to hear, but you couldn’t force yourself to say it. You felt it all, and even more intensely than the obvious need he was professing, but every time you thought you could muster enough strength to speak it, your throat seemed to constrict around the words. After a moment, he understood that you were not ready to talk yet, and he couldn’t find it within himself to force you to. Before turning away, he reached out and lightly squeezed your hand. Without another word, he was gone as if he never existed at all.

Your hands were vibrating, anxiety creeping in and taking hold of your entire body. You wanted to answer, to tell him how badly you missed him too, but it was difficult to form the right way to explain it to him. You knew if you could not find a way to tell him, he would not wait for you forever. The thought of losing Jake because of own inability to express yourself was gut wrenching, and after so much time, you thought it would be easier to talk to him about your feelings. You weren’t sure if it was because of his strong aura, always overshadowing anything else in the room, or his beauty, or the scent of his cologne that seemed to strangle you every time you came near him. Whatever it was, even after your profession of love, the thought of telling him how badly you needed him was overwhelming, and so much so that it seemed to choke you up just at the thought.

Dylan placed a hand on your shoulder, noticing the state you seemed to be stuck in. The feeling brought you back to reality, but reality seemed no better than the delusional state you had been in before. No matter which version of life you were living in, delusional or not, they all seemed to be painful. Even in a perfect world, it felt like your situation would never resolve peacefully, and the knowledge of that fact alone was killing you. You took to the barricade, placing your hands on it to hold yourself upright. Dylan stood beside you, patiently waiting for you to speak. You watched the boys tune their instruments, lost in thought about both interactions.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard.” You whispered.

“What’s hard?” She asked, looking to you.

“Telling him how I feel. It’s… it’s always been so easy to talk to Sam, but never Jake. I care about him so much, and he means so much to me, but I just can’t ever seem to tell him that.”

“It’s always hard to tell people how you feel, especially if you care that much.” She assured you. “You’re feeling a lot of things right now, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself.”

“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never choose between them.” You muttered, holding back a grimace at the thought. “I don’t know… I just feel like after this long, after everything we’ve been through, I should be able to tell him everything, right?” You looked over at her, hoping for an answer that would give you some guidance.

“It depends,” she shrugged “if you were the type of person who normally found it easy to express yourself, yeah, but you’re not and you never have been. You can take it as a sign, or you can dig a little deeper to find out why you can’t talk to him. I love you, and I wish I could give you the best answer, but that’s all I’ve got.”

“I appreciate it,” you said, looking back to the stage in time for them to begin their first song. Sam began an intro, fingers dancing gracefully over the keys of the piano. You let your eyes flutter closed, thinking that if you focused on the music, you would be able to forget your troubles for a moment. The other boys followed suit with their instruments, and after a few moments, Josh began singing the lyrics to ‘Light My Love’. A small smile graced your lips, the sound of Josh’s voice instantly filling you with joy.

When the chorus came around, he sang it perfectly, and the boys played just the same. You knew that despite all of the trouble you’d been facing over the past weeks, you were still incredibly lucky to be able to tour with your best friends and listen to their music so intimately. No matter how your romantic endeavours ended, you would never regret the time spent travelling the world with them. Just as the next verse was about to begin, Sam fumbled the last few notes of his run, losing the tempo and ultimately messing up the rest of the playing. Jake cut out his guitar, looking across the stage at his brother with anger written across his face. Danny slowed to a stop, and Josh took a step back towards the drum set, hopeful to avoid being amidst the conflict that was bound to ensue.

“If you can’t keep up with us, don’t bother getting on stage tonight.” Jake snapped, looking away before Sam could even react.

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes, retrying the notes and hitting them perfectly. “Try it again.” He said, only waiting a few seconds before re-starting. The second time around, the song went without a hitch. The incident seemed to roll off Sam like water on a duck’s back, only motivating him to do better rather than knocking him down. When they finished, Jake kicked on a few pedals and started another song without any discussion. The guitar was enchanting, the sound immediately filling the empty stadium and sending a chill down your spine.

“This has to be my favourite,” you said, looking over at Dylan. She gave a slow nod, carefully watching Danny as he played.

“Broken Bells is pretty good,” she hummed “but I don’t know if it beats Tears of Rain.” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as you debated her opinion.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty close match.” You chuckled, turning back towards the stage. You quietly sang along with Josh, eyes never leaving Jake’s hands on the fretboard. As conflicted as you were about everything you were feeling, you certainly did not have any doubts about how much you missed the talent of his hands. You felt like you were in a trance, pulled in only further as he lead into the solo.

He played it so effortlessly that sometimes you had to question if it was really him, or if he was just pretending to play over a backtrack. When the peak of the solo hit, you found yourself biting the inside of your lip in anticipation, leaning in closer to the stage as if it would heighten your ability to listen. Your focus broke as his finger slipped, sending an off note ringing through the air. He quickly tried to cover the mistake, catching himself back up to speed. He managed a few more notes, but ultimately hit the wrong string again. This time, he couldn’t seem to cover the mistake. Sam looked over, plucking a few notes to see if he would continue on. When Danny stopped his drumming, Jake barred the fretboard, halting any resonance that was lingering from the instrument. You could tell he was pissed, even if he was trying his best not to show it. You knew that flame in his eye all too well, and you hoped that Sam was smart enough not to comment on his mishap, even if he may have deserved it.

“I’m the one that shouldn’t get on stage?” Sam scoffed. Jakes head snapped up, and although you could not see the glare that was shot in Sam’s direction, you were certain it was grievous.

“Let’s not start keeping score,” he warned “because I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t like the results.” Without another word, as if he felt the need to prove his talent, he jumped straight into song once more. This time, it was not an intro, but rather the solo to ‘The Weight of Dreams’. He started slow, allowing Danny and Sam to join in. As the solo progressed, he got more comfortable with playing. When he was certain his hands were in time with his mind, he sped the pace of the song. The other two easily kept up with him, but the longer he played, the faster he got. By the third minute, Sam and Danny were lost and no longer able to play along with him. Sam let his hands drop from his instrument, looking to Danny who had also put down his sticks. They shared a silent moment of annoyance as Jake finished his tyranny.

When he stopped he was out of breath but adorned a cocky smirk on his lips. When he looked up, he immediately noticed the disdain on his bandmates faces. “You finished showing off?” Sam snapped. “Because I’d like to get back to the soundcheck, if it’s convenient for you.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up.” He chuckled, barely acknowledging the tension in the air.

“Pretty hard to keep up when you make it a point to make everything about you.” Sam said, taking a step towards the stand for his bass. “Didn’t realize soundchecks were a fucking competition, too.”

“The floors all yours, Sammy. Take it away.” Jake offered, motioning his arms around the stage. “Or are you pissed off because nobody cares about your shitty bass playing?”

“Yeah, that’s it. You caught me.” He rolled his eyes, slipping his strap over his head and placing the bass guitar back on the stand. “Let me know when you’re ready to grow up do your fucking job.” He took a step towards the side stage, eager to escape the conversation.

“Oh, get over yourself, Sam. Get back here.” Jake called after him.

“Get over myself?” Sam turned just before he stepped out of view. “What are you trying to prove, Jake? Do you really think that acting like an asshole is going to get you any further?” He questioned. You had never seen Sam so furious. In your entire time knowing him, he’d been the same goofy personality that was eager to break the tension with a joke. Besides an occasional snippy remark to his brothers, Sam had never been anything other than content around you. “It’s over, man. If she wants to pick you, she will. If she wants to pick me, she will. Stop trying to show off with your shitty fucking solo’s and the tough guy act. You’ve done more than enough; stop putting her through more unnecessary shit.”

You couldn’t look away, horrified that they were airing out your dirty laundry in front of everyone. You were sick, palms clammy and heart erratic as you waited for a response. You wanted to yell, to tell them to stop and put an end to their antics, but you knew that you could scream until your lungs collapsed and it would not even begin to diffuse the bomb waiting to explode. “Guys, come on.” Danny tried, setting his sticks on top of his drums and standing to intervene.

“I’m the one putting her through shit?” Jake raised an eyebrow, appalled at the sound of Sam’s accusation. “You say that like you’re fucking innocent. I had her first, Sam. Not you, because you were too fucking scared to speak up. A little cowardly to confess your feelings to someone only after someone else makes a move, don’t you think?” Your face was bright red and you thought you were going to be sick. Never in a million years did you predict that the catastrophic end would turn out anything like this.

“She’s right there, guys. Can you deal with this by yourselves, maybe?” Josh offered, looking to you with a hint of sadness in his eye.

“Cowardly?” Sam boomed, taking a step towards the group again. “I’m not the one who waited until she was hammered to make a move! That’s your go-to? Did you think that she’d say no if she was sober? That she would only agree to sleep with you when she had half of her common-sense?” You could see Jake’s hands vibrating, the iron grip he had on the neck of his guitar nearly splintering the wood. “Cut the shit, Jake. You and I both know that this has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with me. Was it because you wanted her, or because you wanted to make sure I couldn’t have her?” With that, Sam turned to walk off the stage before Jake could reply. The accusations that Jake did not love you wholeheartedly was too much for him to let slide, and for you, too. It had been something that you were fearful of the entire time you were with them, that they only wanted you so the other could not have you. The sound of the idea lingering in the air prompted a wave of nausea over you, now distracted from the show by your own hurt.

A crash sounded, catching you off guard and echoing throughout the room whilst painting the walls like a gruesome decoration. It was violently loud and uncharacteristic in comparison to the pleasant noise that usually came from the stage when the boys took post upon it. All arguing had ceased, and any attempt at smoothing out the conflict was long forgotten. You felt frozen with fear as your eyes drifted towards the ground, praying that the sound was not what you thought, even though you knew it was. Everyone was looking at the same thing, feeling the same cold dread fill your bodies; Jake’s guitar laid on the ground, disregarded and abused as if it were not the very thing that kept his heart beating.

He had thrown the strap from his shoulder and discarded the instrument the same as you would trash, barely even looking to it as it fell to the ground. The squeal from the amp was obnoxiously loud, nearly deafening as it rang. The poor connection from the cord to the instrument only furthered the intensity of the moment. A member from the crew ran to cut the power, but Jake was already long gone from sight, leaving his mess behind with little care. The only thought in his head was ones of anger towards Sam, and he headed in the same direction that his youngest brother had gone only seconds before. You had only enough time to share a glance with Dylan before the tense, empty air filled with shouting, venom clearly laced within both voices. Although you could not see the perpetrators, it was not hard to guess who was causing the disturbance.

“Shit,” Dylan whispered, eyes wide. You could not even find it within yourself to reiterate her words of shock before you took off into a run, thinking that you may be able to do damage control before it got too out of hand. You nearly busted down the door to the backstage entrance, tripping over yourself to get to the boys before anything regretful ensued. When you made it down the hallway, barely any time had elapsed since they had disappeared from sight, but the intensity of emotion had gravely increased. Danny and Josh had made it before you, but knew enough to keep a respectful distance. The chance at a peaceful resolution had long passed, and they were only there to do damage control as needed.

By the time you caught up, the first punch was already landed and long forgotten. Sam was the first to receive a hit, but it did not deter him from his anger. He straightened up, ready to respond with the same energy. Without a second thought, his arm moved to strike and his hand connected with Jake’s jaw. “Please, stop!” You shouted, but they weren’t listening to anything other than the sound of their own fury. You took a step forward, ready to put yourselves between them in hopes that they would back down, but Danny took hold of your wrist. Jake moved forward, hitting his brother once more before the two began their wrestle to the ground. With an iron grip, Danny pulled you into him, spinning you so you wouldn’t have to watch the scene unfold.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “Security is on their way.” And he was correct. Within minutes, the two were separated from each other forcefully by two guards who were employed by the venue. There was a mess of insults had between them, but they were no longer able to attack. Danny loosened his hold on you only after he was certain of everyone’s safety. You turned, sickened at the sight. Jake’s mouth was stained red, the violent colour showing boldly against his teeth and his lips. Sam’s nose was clearly injured, and he used his only free hand to wipe the trickle of blood away from underneath it. There was already a bruise beginning to form under his eye, and a nasty one to match forming on Jake’s jaw.

You caught Jake’s eye first, the horror on your face making him snap back to reality. You could see the shift in his expression when his gaze landed on you, remorse written all over him. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, averting his eyes to the floor. Security was already escorting Sam back to his room with hope that distance would help in avoiding another incident. You wanted to speak, but once again, you were at a loss for words. The guard seemed to loosen his grip on Jake, noticing the lack of resistance from him after seeing you. You took a step backwards, wanting to stay and wipe him clean from all injury, to coddle him and apologize for all of the sins you had committed on his behalf, but you couldn’t.

There was not enough distance in the world to atone for your mistakes, and you would still be repenting for them in years to come. You were certain that you would never be able to make up for the hurt you had caused the two brothers, and you were not able to say anything to lessen the suffering. There was no words to solve your own suffering, either, and the thought of being stuck in a permanent state of anguish was unbearable. So, you walked away. It was the only thing you knew how to do, and you knew it all too well. So well, that walking away was easier than falling asleep. You would walk until your feet bled and begged you to stop, and then even further after that. You would run so far that eventually, you would be standing one step away from the problem you intended to leave behind. It was wrong, and it aided nothing but your fear of confrontation, but you did it anyway.

You walked instead of speaking, your body light and your head spinning with no sign of stopping. You left Jake and Sam behind in a bloody mess resulting from your hands. Just because were not the one throwing the punch did not mean that you were not to blame. You stepped on to the stage, headed towards the one thing you thought you might be able to salvage. One of Jake’s SG’s, the one he played so proudly, was laying dramatically in the middle of the stage, white light shining down upon it as if it were a trophy if your sorrow. You approached, but you wished you never had. Instead of picking it up and placing it on its stand like you intended, you thought you might drop to your knees in pure grief.

There it lay, in three pieces now instead of one. The headstock was detached from the fretboard, and the fretboard barely hanging on to the body. You leaned down, slowly gathering the pieces into your hands in hopes that if you loved it enough, it would mend itself back into one. You thought you owed it to Jake to fix at least one thing you had caused, but you were not even able to do that. A tear slipped from your eye as you tightly held the pieces of what once was a guitar, knowing nothing but how to hurt. Jake’s guitar may have been the only physical show of what was broken from the results of your entanglement, but it was far from the only harm done, and this time you knew for certain that love alone could not fix the damage you three had created.

Do you know how to pick up the pieces and go home?

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye

[sky-casino]

caught up in his web: spiderman! & dark!nagi au

pairing: spiderman!nagi seishiro & dark!nagi x fem!reader genre: fluff, angst, darkness-inside-of-you-manifested kinda thing, some action ig wc: 5,800+ a/n: hello! this piece is a collaboration between me and @vviridescent we found this beautiful nagi fanart which sparked our inspiration to write this fic. it also has some influences from Sam Raimi & Tobey Maguire's Spiderman 3. hope you enjoy!🙂

Lately, there’s been a relentless buzz about your neighbourhood’s superhero– Spiderman– as he calls himself. He dons a mask and a red-and-blue tight suit with black webbings all over, and he maneuvers through the city using his web that comes out of his wrists.

He’s the talk of the town because not only does he look cool, he perfectly saves everyone who needs his help. Children, women, men, the elderly. You name it, he saves them from accidents, criminals, and all kinds of dangers lurking in the city.

But no one knows who the person is behind the mask. There have been endless speculations and theories on social media, TV, and newspapers. But no one seems to arrive at a conclusion without any solid evidence. No one knows the boy behind the Spiderman persona. No one except you.

Spiderman is none other than Nagi Seishiro– your classmate, your childhood best friend and most importantly, your boyfriend. His alter ego is a secret shared between just the two of you.

It all started when Nagi suddenly knocked rapidly at your window one night. You instantly jolted from where you sat on your bed, heart racing as a sense of urgency and panic in Nagi’s knock seeped through the glass.

“What happened?” You asked, right after pulling up the window. A look of concern etched across your face. The worry in your eyes seemed to mirror his uneasiness.

Nagi was sweating profusely and replied in a weak voice, “I got bit by a weird-looking spider.” He held onto the window sill with trembling hands.

“Let’s go to the hospital.” You insisted as you gently held his hands, examining him and the bite on his hand. If a spider bite was making him this sick, you were worried that it might escalate and get worse if there was no medical attention provided to him.

Nagi shook his head. “No… I just need to rest. I feel cold. It’s just a fever.”

“Nagi-” You started to protest but were cut off by him.

“Please. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

Not in the mood to argue with him considering the state he was in, you reluctantly obliged and let him rest on your bed, nursing him throughout the night to the best of your ability.

The next morning, Nagi felt perfectly fine. Too perfect, actually.

When he had awoken from his slumber, his gaze fell upon you, sleeping soundly next to him. Not wanting to disturb your rest, he slowly got out of bed and examined himself in the mirror because he was feeling a bit too well-rested for someone who just had a fever the prior night.

He already had a good-looking and fit body, as expected from an athlete. But he was stunned to see that his torso and arms were even more chiseled than before. He was feeling perfectly healthy. His brows furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of the change.

You woke up with a jolt when you felt that his presence was not beside you, but he excitedly called your name before you could even fully sit up from your bed.

“Y/N! Look!”

You turned your head to him and saw him without a shirt, flexing his muscles.Your concerns instantly turned into confusion.

“Nagi? What the hell? Why are you shirtless?” You stood up and grabbed a shirt– his shirt that he had left behind previously– from the closet nearby. “You’re gonna feel cold! Here, wear thi-”

“Look! I got buffer, for some reason.” Nagi exclaimed.

You narrowed your eyes and took a good look at your boyfriend this time and after a few seconds, you finally saw what he was talking about. It wasn’t a drastic change, but it was subtle enough to notice upon closer scrutiny.

“Huh? Wow…” was all you could say in surprise.

Throughout the next few weeks, Nagi discovered more changes happening to him and confided in you every single one of them. It was surreal–and yet exciting–when you suddenly found yourself watching him practice his spider skills a month after that night. Using his web to move from one place to another, crawling on walls that gradually got higher and higher, effortlessly punching things that flew meters away. You thought superheroes only existed in comic books and mangas, but here you are watching a fledgling one, and it’s none other than your very own boyfriend.

Once he felt well-practiced and proficient enough in his new otherworldly skills, he admitted to you that he wanted to use his powers for a noble cause– to make your surroundings a better and safer place.

“I hear you, and that would be amazing. But I can’t help but worry, Nagi. I think it’s going to be dangerous.” You folded your arms and frowned slightly, your voice laced with concern.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I can handle it. I can handle everything: school, soccer, being Spiderman.” He reassured you with a smile. You can see the determination in his eyes, and you knew it would be fruitless to try to persuade him out of it. A part of you was also proud that your boyfriend wanted to make a positive impact using his powers.

“Spiderman?” You chuckled, amused at the name. “Is that your superhero name?”

“Yeah. Why?” He replied in a deadpan tone.

You chuckled. “Nothing. It’s cute.”

You take a few minutes to ponder on your next response.

“Okay. I trust you. But on one condition.” You stop walking to turn to him, bringing a more serious atmosphere between the two of you.

“You have to stop, or at least take a break, from this vigilante work once I see that it’s dangerous and you’re struggling to juggle everything. Okay? Promise me, Nagi.”

Instead of replying, he hugged you right after you finished. “Thank you, Y/N. I promise.”

You ruffle his hair after he lets go of the hug.

“Good boy. Now let’s go have your favorite lemon tea and some takoyaki.” You smiled at him

“I love you.” Nagi whispered, hugging you sideways as the two of you continued to walk. Somehow, you felt that it would be alright.

It’s been almost a year since Nagi began his part-time career as your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. You are relieved because so far, everything has been smooth.

Nagi has not sustained any major injuries and has been able to balance school, soccer, and being Spiderman perfectly, as he said he would. And of course, his identity is still kept under the covers.

But everything was about to change when a tiny piece of meteorite containing a symbiote fell down on a spot where you and Nagi were spending time together that fateful night. Neither of you noticed it because of its small size. Unbeknownst to either of you, it sneakily latched itself onto Nagi’s bike when the two of you left the place.

Over the next few weeks, you started to observe some disappointing changes in Nagi’s personality and behaviour. He had become increasingly rude to not only you but also to others, including the teachers and his coach.

He despised studying and absolutely refused to do it when you invited him to your regular study sessions. On the soccer field, he started hogging the ball and fighting with his teammates. When reprimanded by the coach for his behaviour, he stormed out of soccer practice before it ended and eventually stopped attending it, which made Reo angry and disappointed.

He still donned the Spiderman suit to save people, but conflicting emotions swirled within you. You can’t deny that his once noble pursuit has become a toxic habit as he had begun using his superhero duty as an escape from his actual responsibilities: your relationship, his studies, people who cared for him and soccer.

Whenever you or Reo tried to reach out and talk to him about what’s going on, he would dismiss both of your concerns, walking out and going wherever he wants, stating that he has “something more important to do.” Reo has no clue what it means, but you do.

You found it extremely frustrating to not be able to get a hold of Nagi. For the first time, you felt him drifting away from you, and you couldn’t reach him. It hurts to see him slip away and be unable to bridge this growing gap between you and Nagi.

One fateful night, Nagi struggled to get home as he was feeling heavily delirious. Thinking it was just fatigue and fever, he decided to sleep it off, hoping that a good night's rest would make him feel refreshed. In his dream, he saw blurry visions of a glossy black substance that resembles a slime oozing out of his skin, and forming another… Nagi. A clear doppelganger of himself. Though, this counterpart has a sinister aura, bore a devious look on his face, has black hair, and instead of the usual Spiderman suit, this Nagi was clad in black. It didn’t seem like the friendly neighborhood Spiderman Nagi was. The counterpart then vanished in whips of smoke and the dream ended there.

Nagi woke up with a severe crushing migraine and body aches throughout his whole body. Even the simple act of just sitting up on his bed was a labour. He wasn’t sure what time of the day it was, or what even day it was. Fortunately, you walked into his room just in the nick of time. Your presence brought him a glimmer of relief.

“Baby?” He murmurs in a groggy and tired voice.

You quickly took a seat at the edge of the bed. “Nagi… you’re finally awake.” You replied, feeling a mix of relief and concern.

“Finally?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion

“You’ve been asleep for three days. Your fever won’t go down until just a few hours ago.” You explained.

“Oh… three days? Wow.” He says, trying to comprehend how fast time had flown and what exactly happened.

“Yes, three days…” You sniffle, startling Nagi and making him look at you right away.“And for the first day of those three days, you weren’t answering my calls and texts. I reached out to you like a hundred times. I was so worried!” You sobbed, spilling over all your bottled-up emotions.

“Oh no. Baby, please don’t cry-” Nagi’s concerns for you deepens.

“Also, it’s like I don’t know you anymore. What happened? Why did you change in just a short amount of time?” You finally look him in the eye, it feels like ages since the last time you were able to do that.

“I.. I don’t know. My mind was just all over the place, I think? I felt… detached. From everyone, from everything.” Nagi struggles to explain, as he himself doesn’t know exactly.

“That’s not an excuse, though.” You frowned. “You hurt me, and others too. I had to constantly apologize to them in your place because I couldn’t bear other people hating you, or talking bad about you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I promise, I’ll make it up to you and to everyone. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Nagi pleads, on the verge of tears as he wraps you in an embrace. He has never felt this guilty and distraught ever in his life. You’re the only one who has this effect on him.

“But are you okay now? Is your mind clear? Do you not feel detached anymore like you were saying earlier? You can’t promise things if you can’t deliv-”

“Yes! I’m okay now. Really. I mean, my body is in pain but for some reason, I feel better, lighter. It’s like nothing’s weighing me down anymore.” Nagi assures you.

“We promised to tell each other everything. Why didn’t you?” You cried into his chest, feeling a sense of betrayal.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeated his apologies, accompanied by gentle caresses on your head to soothe you.

It started out a bit slow at first–with Nagi making reparations and sincerely apologizing to the people he had disrespected–but he eventually came back to his former self. Fortunately, he had always been well-loved and popular among everyone in the school, so it was not very difficult for people to forgive and forget. His genuine efforts to mend and rectify his mistakes worked.

It seemed as if fate had worked its magic and everything seemed as if it was back to normal. Though you should have known that fate always had other plans and something was bound to happen yet again.

While on a date with Nagi in the city, strolling on the bustling streets until your attention was abruptly caught by a piece of urgent news, accompanied by live footage flashed on the huge LED TV mounted on one of the nearby buildings.

The footage displayed a very chaotic scene showing a figure in black, eerily resembling Nagi’s Spiderman both in looks, web-slinging, crawling abilities, and overall movements. The newscaster reported that this person was seen destroying everything they passed by: buildings, statues, and vehicles. The live video recording of this person suddenly panned to the spot where you and Nagi currently are. The black figure is here, and he is eyeing the both of you.

“It… wasn’t a dream?” You hear Nagi whisper to himself as he looks back at the dark enigma with wide eyes.

“Nagi? What’s happening? Is that an impersonator?” You asked, feeling confused. Your grip on his hand tightened and his thumb gently caressed the back of your hand.

The situation escalated as the police arrived. Some officers started evacuating people from the area, while others began shooting the clad-in-black criminal.

“Y/N, go follow the police and evacuate. I need to take care of this. Go home, I’ll see you there.” Nagi urgently says, bringing you to the nearest police officer in charge of the evacuation.

“Take care!” You shout as Nagi runs away quickly to a secluded spot and secretly unravels his casual clothes so he could properly fight in his Spiderman suit.

He barely got out of his hiding spot when the black figure attacked him. You had to hold back from screaming his name in worry, remembering to hide his identity from everyone who could hear you. You gripped your hands tightly, trying to contain your worry and fear.

“Enjoying your date with her, huh?” The villain asks sarcastically with a smirk hidden behind the mask, choking Nagi in the rubble that was caused by his fast attack.

“Who are you?” Nagi manages to ask, his voice strained.

“I’m you… but only made of your dark impulses, tendencies, and desires. I guess you can say I’m the dark version of you, manifested.” The villain revealed in a hauntingly familiar voice.

Nagi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How is that possible? But the voice and just the existence of this villain proved otherwise. Nagi musters his strength and finally counters his opponent and successfully hurts him. As the battle intensified, Nagi decided to take their fight to an isolated location away from the population to avoid potentially innocent bystanders.

They continue to fight until the dark version of Nagi has to flee due to injuries that Nagi inflicted, but not without leaving a warning. As a goodbye, he removed his mask and told Nagi in a voice thick with malice, “Out of the two of us, I will be the only one left standing. I will be the one alive at the end of this and I will take your place in this world. I’m going to take everything that’s yours, including her.”

Nagi is too stunned to move. Not only had he encountered someone who could be his twin, but now he realises that you are in danger as well.

That night, Nagi tells you everything: his dream, what he had learned about the person who attacked him, including who he said he was and his ominous warning.

“So this… person…” You crossed your arms. “He self-proclaimed that he’s the dark version of you. So, I guess we can call him… Dark Nagi? Kuro Nagi sounds better.” You say. Nagi nods in agreement.

“I need to defeat him as soon as possible, or else he will just be a menace to society again and he will also head for you,” Nagi says with a determined look. His resolve to protect you and everyone else strengthens.  “Can’t let that happen.”

Ever since then, Nagi has become more vigilant about his surroundings, what’s happening in the news, and you (where you are when you’re not with him, what you’re doing, who you’re with, what time can you be together again, etc.). He also requested for you to live in his house and sleep in the same bed as him, to ensure your safety. You easily obliged because both of your and his parents are out of the country anyway. It’s nice to find comfort in each other’s presence amidst the danger.

Kuro Nagi has been out of sight for almost a month since his first attack. This did give a brief period of calm. That was until he resurfaced. This time, he goes straight for you.

You were watching Nagi during his after-school practice and had planned to go home together afterwards. You had gone to the restroom for a while and that's when Kuro Nagi seizes the opportunity, sneaking in and kidnaps you.

You wake up feeling disoriented a few hours later and find yourself face-to-face with the man who had fought Nagi. He really did look like your Nagi. All the drowsiness goes away and you're now on full alert. You look around quickly and it seems that you're in a dilapidated house in the forest just outside the city.

"Don't be scared, Y/N. I won't hurt you." He says with a sickeningly genuine smile. It sends shivers down your spine.

You gathered your courage to speak up. "N-Nagi told me everything. Who you are, your plans. I'm scared, but… I also wish to understand you. What are you?" You asked, your voice quivering with fear and curiosity

"You see, I'm a symbiote. A parasite kind of alien who seeks a host and eventually kills that host to take their place. We thrive on our host's dark side. We also get some of our host's memories, that's why I know you, and how important you are to him." He says the last part with a devilish grin, causing you to have chills all over.

"I've been secretly watching the both of you since that fight. Both of you, but especially you." He continues, looking at your figure from head to toe, making you uncomfortable.

"I don't know. I was just intrigued by you. I wanted to see for myself why he likes you so much." He smirks. Your discomfort grows at every passing second.

The unsettling tension gets broken by your ringing phone.

"Oh, your phone's with me." He stands up to get it on the old wooden table. "God, he's been calling nonstop." He rolls his eyes before answering the call.

"She'll be staying with me from now on." Kuro Nagi curtly states, upon bringing the phone to his ear.

"You bastard. What did you do to her?!" You can hear Nagi's muffled angry voice from the other line.

"Nothing! Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt her. I'll never do that." Kuro Nagi says as he looks at you with a smile. "And besides, why are you so surprised about this? I already told you, I'll take everything that's yours, including her."

You wanted to yell and convey to Nagi that you're in a dilapidated house in the nearby woods but Kuro Nagi ended the call and turned off your phone right after he told Nagi what he wanted to say.

With that, the two of you stayed in that house with him talking to you and asking you tons of questions, and you had no choice but to entertain and answer him out of fear. Hours stretched into what feels like an eternity for you.

Kuro Nagi finds himself feasting on the sight of you, he really enjoys looking at you, talking to you, hearing your voice, and seeing you squirm in his presence. He finds pleasure in having you all to himself. He thinks your scared-but-trying-to-be-tough face is so endearing.

"Appearance and memories are not the only things I share with my host, but also emotions." He suddenly shares the information with you.

"So, since he loves you… I love you too."

You're too stunned to speak. Honestly, you don't know what to say to that at all, so you look away, unsure how to respond to this revelation. He looks like Nagi, was a part of Nagi. Yet, he was a stranger to you.

Kuro Nagi just smiles at you, finding your reaction cute.

It had been around four long days before Nagi finally arrived and found you. Their second round of fight was longer and more brutal. It resulted in you and Nagi barely getting out of there alive. Nagi deduces that Kuro Nagi has been recovering and strengthening himself since their first fight last month.

As you and Nagi were leaving, you locked eyes with the injured and bloody Kuro Nagi until you finally left the area.

Once back in Nagi’s home, you tended to his wounds. The more severe injuries like broken bones and muscles will recuperate on their own with plenty of rest. You shared with Nagi all the crucial intel that you had gathered from Kuro Nagi during your stay in that old house with him.

“Y’know, I kinda feel bad for him.” You admitted, dabbing Nagi’s wound with cotton and alcohol. “He’s all alone there. He’s lonely, and now he’s in pain.” A sense of empathy for the symbiote began forming, even if he was dangerous and a threat.

“He shouldn’t exist in the first place, Y/N.” Nagi reminds you.

“I know. I understand.” You responded, with a small frown.

“You’re too kind.” He says with a tired smile as he caresses your cheek gently.

When the both of you are settled and done cleaning up, you take a very long and peaceful nap together on Nagi’s bed. Wrapped in his arms, you felt safe.

The next morning, you left Nagi a little note telling him that you were going to the grocery to buy supplies, which is just half of the truth. The other half is that you’re also going to Kuro Nagi’s shelter in the forest, despite not being entirely sure that he’s still there.

Branches snapped underneath your shoes as you walked. The aftermath of yesterday’s fight is still fresh. Broken trees, uneven patches of earth, and blood everywhere. Luckily, no civilians witnessed the fight. It’s better for this whole issue to have less exposure, as it might risk your and Nagi’s identities to be revealed. Too messy.

You carefully approach the shack and are about to call out Kuro Nagi when you find him lying down on the makeshift bed by the wall. You quietly rush to him so as not to wake him up and check his temperature. Unlike Nagi, he doesn’t have a fever, perhaps due to his alien nature. But he still has wounds all over his body.

“Y/N?” He calls out weakly while you open the medical kit you purchased from the grocery on the nearby table.

“Y-you’re here?” This time, he tries to open his eyes.

“Yes, I’m here” You responded softly. This situation got you thinking about how Nagi would react if he ever finds out that you went out of your way to tend to his enemy’s wounds.He would probably be mad.

You quickly get to work, wiping his wounds and bloodstains with clean water and towel, then with alcohol and cotton balls. You also stitch up his wounds and cuts, a skill you had to learn and master ever since Nagi became Spiderman. You’re too focused on what you’re doing that you don’t notice Kuro Nagi watching you with heavy-lidded eyes. Honestly, he’d rather sleep and let his body do the work of healing and regenerating. But how could he ask you to leave after all your efforts and trouble to be here? Also, your focused face is too cute, he thinks. It’s a sight he doesn’t mind waking up to.

Truthfully, there’s been something bugging Kuro Nagi lately. Something stirring in his chest since he kidnapped you and had you all to himself during those four days. He’s been ignoring it, but the more time you spend together, the more aggressive it becomes. Whatever it is.

“There. Done!” You chirp with relief, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“I also brought food and drinks, if you take those. I’m not sure.” You show him the grocery bag and its contents that you had placed on the table.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He says as you clean up and quickly put all the used medical items into the trash bin.

“I’m gonna go now-”

“Stay. Hmm? Please? Please stay.” You hear the desperation in his voice, something you didn’t hear during the past few days you were alone with him. Despite the sympathy you felt for him, you knew you couldn’t stay any longer.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry. I can’t. Nagi is probably looking for me already.” You apologized gently and stood up and got ready to leave.

He scoffs, “Of course, it’s all about him again.” his voice dripping with jealousy and bitterness.

You turn around and walk away briskly. Yes, you did feel bad for him, but his last statement and bitter tone remind you that he’s still the bad guy.

He’s Nagi’s enemy.

And you should never dance with the devil, your boyfriend’s nemesis.

Sometime after the second encounter between the two Nagis, a huge and terrifying monster appeared at the buzzing heart of the city. Nothing of this scale and danger has been seen before. It’s black in colour, glossy, stringy, teeth sharp and long. The black part bears an uncanny resemblance to Kuro Nagi’s suit and the material that Nagi saw in his eerie dream several months ago.

During the onset of the monster’s attack, Nagi is at soccer practice while you’re in the city shopping alone. Both of you are oblivious to the current danger.

Everything is happening too fast within minutes. Buildings and structures are getting dismantled left and right in the wake of the creature’s rampage. Nagi only learns about it when the soccer team are on a quick break and Reo who’s on his phone shows the live footage to him.

“What the fuck is going on in this city, man?!” Reo exclaims, and Nagi does not even answer as he wastes no time sprinting to the location. He knows that you’re there as your original plan was to meet up for dinner in the mall.

His heart is palpitating loudly and non-stop when you don’t answer your phone. He can’t lose you. Panic courses through him.

Meanwhile, you try to run away from the monster as fast as you can, to no avail. One of its strings latches on to you and propels you up in the air just like what it’s doing to its other victims. Nagi, donned in his Spiderman outfit to be precise, comes swinging into the scene and swoops you first.

“How about the rest?!”

“I already created and placed large sturdy webs that will catch them everywhere, don’t worry. The police are quickly evacuating everyone too.” He assures.

Nagi is about to put you down somewhere far and safe when one of the monster’s black strings strikes him, causing the two of you to fall midair. Nagi immediately regains his balance and jumps towards you as you continue to fall. He activated his web so you can hold on to it, but it’s not gonna reach you in time. For a second, your life flashes before your eyes. For the first time, Nagi feels that he might actually lose you as you seem beyond reach.

Until a shadowy figure from your right suddenly flies towards your direction to catch you in midair.

“K-Kuro Nagi?” You ask in shock after he carefully places you down on a spot far from the monster.

“I… gotta help him.” Nagi furrows his brows. “He can’t handle that monstrosity alone. That thing is made from the same parasite as me. But it failed to find a host and has become defective. I need to go.”

“Be careful!” You exclaim as Kuro Nagi swings past you.

Kuro Nagi stands by Spider Nagi’s side and immediately shows him zero hostility when Nagi is about to fight him too. Kuro Nagi tells him what he had told you about the monster, persuading him that they need to work together if they wish to eliminate it.

“Our species’ has two weaknesses: fire and sound of high frequency.” Kuro Nagi begins explaining his plan. “Luckily, there’s a gas truck over there. We can set it up in flames and wait for it to shrink and burn up completely.”

“Alright.” Nagi answers reluctantly, still not fully trusting his former enemy. Though, for the sake of exterminating the creature and the safety of the citizens, Nagi is willing to comply.

They execute the plan and the black behemoth is now in flames. However, after waiting for about two minutes, it has not yet shrunk significantly and is starting to regain energy to destroy.

“It’s not working. We should utilize the other weakness you mentioned. High-frequency sound can be achieved by banging those metal poles together repeatedly.” Spider Nagi points to the metal poles on the streets that fell from the construction site that the monster destroyed earlier.

“What do you think?”

Kuro Nagi takes a while to think before responding, “Yeah. Sure. That might work.”

The two of them swing their way to the metal poles and start erecting them around the monster whose movement has slowed down because of the flames. All the poles have been erected. Right before Spider Nagi starts hitting the poles, Kuro Nagi removes his mask and talks to him, admitting that this strategy will affect him as well and make him disappear.

“Not that you care, exactly. After all that I’ve done to you. But… I’m just saying, you’re on your own from now on. Good luck.” He says, turning around to move away from the scene.

“Where are you going now?” Spider Nagi questions.

“Just… gonna say goodbye to someone.” Kuro Nagi replies cryptically.

“Thanks for the help.” are Spider Nagi’s last words to his evil counterpart, who no longer seems so evil now. He had an inkling as to who the ‘someone’ was.

Nagi waits until Kuro Nagi is finally with you. As much as he wants him to properly say goodbye to you before he disappears, the monster is starting to accelerate again and now is the only time and chance to defeat it.

“Kuro!” You call as soon as he lands on his feet, and by then the high-frequency sound is already audible throughout the area. “What happened?!”

He’s clearly in pain and his black suit is also acting up. Yet, he still stands firm, determined to see you one last time.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll absolutely defeat that shit. As for me, you don’t have to worry about me lurking around you anymore.” Despite his struggle, he’s still able to smirk at you.

“What do you mean?” You asked. You try to reach out to him but he steps back. Perhaps he didn’t want you to touch his suit as he might have unknowing effects on you.

“This is the last time…” His voice trails off as he groans in pain.

“Kuro!” You cried out in worry.

“Those loud sounds are what’s killing that monster, and me. This is goodbye, babe.” He smiles as he calls you using Nagi’s favourite pet name for you.

“You sacrificed… yourself?” You feel tears welled up in your eyes at the information.

Kuro Nagi nods weakly. “Y’know, I thought I only love you because it’s what my host is feeling. That I just inherited it from him. But I realized that I actually, and surprisingly, learned to love you on my own accord. And it’s no brainer that I don’t deserve you.”

“I wish we could’ve been friends.” You said quietly as you looked at the ground.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Kuro Nagi responds with a painful smile and tired dreamy eyes looking up at the sky, as if he’s picturing the two of you being the best of friends, picturing what could’ve been.

“But sadly, I’m an anomaly. And I shouldn’t exist.” Kuro Nagi says softly as he wipes your tears away.

You glanced back up to take a good look at him for the last time, and you’re horrified to see that only a quarter of his body is left, just his chest upwards. He’s disintegrating away.

“Thank you for taking care of me that day, even though I didn’t deserve it. You’re too kind. Just be happy, okay?” He smiles at you before completely disappearing, his black suit turning into soot.

You watch Nagi and the monster from afar and see that the latter has become a large cloud of soot as well, disappearing into the atmosphere.

Nagi is far from you but you want to hold him and just be in his arms. Everything has just been so overwhelming. The danger brought by the monster, suddenly losing Kuro Nagi and watching him die. You just miss your Nagi and need his comfort.

He’s tired from the fight but he sees you running to him and meets you halfway. He embraces you and he swings the both of you to a distant rooftop where you can have a moment of privacy all to yourselves.

“Are you okay?” The two of you ask in unison, causing a burst of short-lived laughter.

“You’re dirty, but at least you’re not very bloody and severely injured.” You wipe the dirt and some blood on his face after he removes his mask.

“Yeah, thanks to him. He told me how to defeat that thing.” Nagi says.

Tears trickled down your cheeks. “He’s gone. He died in front of me.” You sobbed.

Nagi holds you in a tight embrace. “Yeah, I know. He said he wanted to say goodbye to you.” He says. You sniffle into his chest as he caresses your hair. He presses a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Shhh…Don’t cry, baby.” Nagi whispers. “Everything will be alright now. We got through it together.” He reassures you.

And you smile, because Nagi’s right. All that had happened has left an impact on both of you, but together, you both managed to overcome it. The two of you spend some time on the rooftop before Nagi swings both of you home as the sun sets.

[botnasty]

Part three: Fuck Your Theory

Roommate!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Summary: Bucky and his interesting theories are back once again…

Words: 2K words

Warnings: FLUFF, suggestive comment, Bucky with tattoos and fake nipple piercing, angst at the end.

Note: All mistakes are mine and please tell me if I’m missing any warnings. And also don’t be shy, if anyone wants to see more of the two just send me an ask :)

Not proofread

Series Masterlist

“Bucky!” You yelled his name as you did a 360 in your room, your eyes trying to locate the most important part of your costume this year, an angel. Usually during Halloween your mantra was: ‘Go big or go home’, but with all the exams lately you haven’t had the time to work on it, so you decided to do something really simple. 

You grabbed your white feather hearing and went out of the bathroom adjacent to your bedroom. “Have you seen…”There was the man of the minute, laying down on your bed. He was wearing leather pants that hugged his beefy thighs perfectly, his hair on a man bun with some strands framing his face, all his tattoos on display on his chest and his arms and…

Your eyes bulged out when you saw what was on his nipples. “What in the world?” Bucky smirked his finger brunching against the metal around his pink nipple.

“Unfortunately they are fake, Toots.” He said when he saw exactly where your eyes had stopped. You almost wanted to whine. Images in your head of you on his lap, biting on his nipple and tugging on the piercing making him moan for you and sensible.

“But I think you were looking for this weren’t you?” He pointed to his other hand that was holding the hollow that was supposed to get on your head. “Come here, little angel. Come get your crown.” He almost growled as he got on his knee on your bed.

You slowly got to him, swallowing and your eyes never leaving his blue one, your feet paddling against the rug in your bedroom that you bought with him under the pretext of ‘my feet are always cold. I need it to live.” Once you were in front of him, you looked up to him because even if he was on his knee on your bed, he was still very much taller than you.. and so much bigger.

You yelped when Bucky put his tattooed arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his bare torso. “What a good girl.” His mouth descended on yours. His lips not just kissing you but devouring you whole. You felt like his when he kissed you like that,but confusion was still raging between the two of you. 

While teh kiss and the sex you both had made you feel like there was more, outside of it he still treated you like his best friend and nothing more. He never asked you to be his girlfriend, so you didn’t know what to think was happening. Have you become friends with benefits?

“There you go, such a pretty angel.” Lost in thoughts, you hadn't noticed Bucky place the hollow on your head. “My pretty angel.” He framed your face with his hand and pulled you close, lips brushing. “You're my little angel, aren’t you toots?”

Even with the confusion in your head, you smiled and wrapped your hand around his neck. Your hands immediately went to the hair on the nape of his neck “Only if you’re mine, demon.” Why not have fun instead of worrying about the end now.

The party was going full swing. People were already overflowing the house. You were surprised the cops hadn’t been called yet. Bucky leaned over you as you both went through the front door, you couldn’t help but take a whiff of him. He smelled too good to be true. He leaned into your ear and grabbed your cheeks. “I’m going to look for Steve and Sam.” You nodded. ‘I think I saw Nat’s red hair in the kitchen.”

“Nat is here!” You almost screamed of joy. Natasha was your other best friend that unfortunately had to go overseas for her work as a ballet dancer. You had stayed in contact, but hadn’t seen her in a year now. “I have to go see her!” Bucky smiled at your evident excitement. 

Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close. “Go see her, toots.” He pecked your lips. “But tonight, you are mine.” He whispered in your ears. A gasp couldn’t help but leave your mouth and cream messing your panties. The man was too hot to handle. 

You bit your lips. “Understood, toots?” he said with a fake severity, his tattooed fingers making you look into his blue eyes. 

“Yes…” And you leaned in on the tip of your toes and kissed him.Your arms went around his neck and you grabbed a fist-full of his hair. You pulled him closer to you as you slide your tongue in his mouth and he let you, his arm around your waist grabbing onto your skin. You loved this. You loved the power-balance you both had. You both were scared to show your vulnerability to each other.

“I’m going to join you guys soon, okay baby?”

“Don’t be too long.” He whispered into your mouth and you both finally let go of each other.

You zeroed to the kitchen after Bucky left into the crowd, your eyes never leaving his ass in those leather pants. You couldn’t wait to see Nat face-to-face after so many times. As you squeeze between two people, you couldn’t help but squick as you noticed her in her Poison Ivy costume. She was talking to this other girl and hadn’t noticed you yet. You took that as an opportunity. 

“BOO.” You screamed behind her and she turned around and was about to smack your face, but stopped midway. The other girl just laughed and went away. “Y/N?”

“Nat!” You both laughed as you went into each other's arms. “Wait.” You pulled her away. “Were you about to punch me?”

“You fucking scared me. What did you think was going to happen?”

You nodded. “That’s true, that’s true.”

She grabbed your face. “Now come here.” She kissed your cheeks. “I missed you so much. I have so much to tell you. Oh, all the juicy stuff I just learned and you didn’t tell me any of it!” Your face went down. Did people find out about you and Bucky? If so, how?

“Why haven’t you told me that Sam Wilson was finally single again! I would’ve flown back home sooner!” She sipped on her red cup, the same one you see in every teen movie ever, her green nails glowing in the deemed light. You puffed out a laugh and faked being hurt. “Ouch. That deeply hurt my feelings.” You turned around and pretended to leave, but with a big smile on your face. Nat grabbed you by the arm and pulled you in a hug.

“You know I can never get enough of you. ANd you are my favorite person in the world!” She kissed your nose. “I would’ve come back for you anyday, my sunny.”

“I missed you, Nat. Shit aren’t the same without you.”

“I know. I’m irreplaceable.” She took a step back and grabbed her red cup once again. “Time for me to throw that out.” She opened the trash can.

You nodded. “Can never be too careful.”

“Fucking frat boy… But anyway.” She linked your arms together. “Where is your boy toy?” You almost choked on your saliva. “Boy toy?”

“Bucky? James Barnes? Hot nerd? You know the dude you’ve been living with for the past four years?”

You slapped her shoulder. “I know who you're talking about. I just wasn’t expecting that name. He’s talking with Sam and Steve.”

“Then let’s go join him, shall we?” She didn’t wait for your response and immediately dragged you in the sea of disguised people.

“Sammy!” Natasha screeched as she wrapped her arms around the man. You,in your case, immediately went beside Bucky. You almost melted when you felt his hand slide on the low of your back, his fingers caressing your soft skin. You looked up to him and giggled when you saw his bloodshot eyes. “You’re high, Buck.”

He smiled. “And you are pretty. Are we playing a game of stating the evidence?” He leaned down and kissed your cheeks. “Wanna play with me and Sam at beer pong?” You nodded.

“I’m with Nat!” You screamed before anyone could decide their team. You walked to her and held her hand.

“That’s not fair.” Exclaimed Bucky, teaming up with Sam. “She's the fuckign pro at that game.”

You shrugged. “You’ll have faster.”You grabbed one of the small white balls and threw it in the air.

“We the dream team baby.” She kissed your cheeks and filled the red cups with beer. You leaned into her and when you turned to look at Bucky, you saw his jaw twitching. He was jealous. You couldn’t help but feel good at that. He really did care about your relationship.

“Now!” Sam took one of the balls. “Let’s get this game started shall we.” 

Cheering could be heard from all the people around the table.

Five games of beer pong had passed and everyone was drunk. You were probably the only one who wasn’t wasted because you were the designed driver. Seeing everyone being drunk was pretty funny. Sam was always flexing his muscles to Natasha who was swooning, Bucky was just being extremely touchy with you, but that wasn’t anything new.

He had his head on your shoulder, having you pressed against his hard body. “Hmm.. I’m gonn go to the bathroom.” He whispered and walked away after kissing your cheeks. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” You asked him, scared he was going to pass out at any moment.

He shook his head and leaned down to pinch you cheeks. “Imma be ‘right , toots.” and he went.

“Where boy toy go?” Nat asked as she grabbed you by the neck and started swinging to the music with you. You were still looking at the direction Bucky went. “He went to the bathroom.”

“He big boy.” She grabbed your chin and made you look at her. “Dance with me.”

The songs playing were a mash up of all the 2000's and 2010’s songs so you couldn’t help but move your body with the redhead next to you and scream the lyrics of the song.

“That’s it. Let it go, girl.” Nat laughed as she made you twirl on the dance floor.

After a long moment,  you looked around and you couldn’t find Bucky anywhere near you. He did say he was going to the bathroom, but that had been 15 minutes ago. “I’m gonna look for Bucky.” You screamed at Natasha over the loud music. She gave you the thumbs up and went back to the game of beer pong, this time in team with Sam. 

“Sorry.” Is what you kept saying to people as you squeezed by them and your angel wings slapped them a little. You really shouldn’t have worn them to such a big party, but that’s not what was important right now. Your eyes kept on moving around, looking at every place and costume to see if you could spot him, but to no avail.

Just as you turn around a corner, you hear his famous saying. “You know.. I heard a theory…” Your heart started beating fast and you froze. Right in front of you was Bucky saying the same thing he once said to you to a random girl wearing white and red, you couldn’t bother trying to find what she was dressed as. Your focus were on Bucky’s word. 

The motherfucker. You’ve never felt more used and hurt in your life. By your own best friend turned lover. Your hand bawled into a fist, You wanted to punch someone. Bucky or the girl, you didn’t know. Rage filled you, but instead of doing anything you just left. Left the place and Bucky. Fuck him and fuck his theory.

[saccharine-dean]

I've been having ATSV brainrot (particularly Gwen-centric) as of late so hear me out: Spider-Man x SPN

16-year old, junior-in-high-school sam winchester as spider-man.

his mother died when he was a baby, and his father only very recently. he lives alone with dean, who got custody of him after their father's death. even though this only happened a couple years ago, really, dean has been raising sam all their lives.

sam likes home fine enough. dean isn't too bad as a parent for a 20-year old- he has a job at the local garage, makes sure sam is fed, and for the most part he doesn't act like dad.

it's just that he can be a bit overprotective. sam gets it, but it's frustrating.. and it's the reason he refuses to tell dean about his secret identity. but it's okay- dean, for his part, is ironically a pretty big fan of spider-man. sam knows he tries to hide it, but it's obvious- dean thinks the mystery vigilante in their city is cool.

that is, until one day:

sam is way, way in over his head with this one. unaware of the existence of the multiverse (though he has theories) and being the only superhero in his town, he has nobody to call for backup. the villain nearly lands a fatal blow on him way too many times for comfort, and he's losing stamina fast. a crowd of people has gathered to watch, all cheering him on from the sidelines.

enter castiel: dean's boyfriend of 2 years, a really stand up guy. he's a little awkward and sometimes he can be just as protective as dean is, but for what it's worth, sam loves him like a brother. it's just... he's also approaching the street where the fight is taking place. blissfully unaware, he holds a bouquet of flowers in his hands, walking the last couple blocks to surprise dean at work.

it all happens so fast: one minute sam is dodging another shot from the villain, the next the projectile is ricocheting off of a metal awning, and BAM- it hits castiel in the chest, and time seems to freeze.

sam screams.

he doesn't notice much of anybody else after that- the villain retreats once sam is crumpled on the ground next to castiel, or at least he thinks so. sirens blare all around him, ten times louder than they were before, and sam can't help himself from putting his head to castiel's chest and sobbing.

and then he hears the one voice he dreads the most at this moment:

"Cas?"

sam looks up, deer in the headlights, and sees his brother in what may very well be the worst shock of his life.

"No. No, Cas, no-"

dean shoves him out of the way and lifts castiel up in his arms, and as he's frantically swearing and checking for a pulse, sam does the only thing he can think of to do, and he disappears.

even though dean comes home past 3:00 that night, sam is still up, sobbing into his pillow. assuming he heard the news from the TV, dean wraps him in a fierce hug and mumbles comfort into his shoulder through his own tears, promising to sam that he'll catch the son of a bitch who let castiel die.

it's been maybe four months since then, and sam doesn't know how much more he can take of this.

dean's animosity towards spider-man is now one of the most transparent things about him. sam knows he shouldn't take it to heart, shouldn't believe that dean would think these things about him if he knew, but hell if he isn't tired of being called a monster, a coward, a freak.

there's another large scale fight downtown that nearly goes awry, but there's these new people that appeared from some kind of portal and for once he has *help,* some actual allies to save the day with him, and suddenly he feels much lighter, much easier. sam manages to save them at the last minute, and as he's standing there catching his breath he hears his brother's voice break the cold air:

"Found you, you eight-eyed bastard."

sam had been telling dean as himself for weeks not to stake out every crime scene in new york, that he could get himself hurt or worse, and every time dean gave the same answer- "so?"

and so now, standing there shaking from the adrenaline and the wind and the blood, it's not that sam is surprised necessarily- it's just... god, he is so, so, tired.

"Please," Sam begs him when he turns and sees the gun pointed at his head. "I- Whatever you think I did-"

"You're the reason the love of my life is dead," Dean hisses, and even after all this time, it still makes Sam freeze. "How about that, you son of a bitch?"

"It wasn't me!" Sam shouts, and his voice breaks at the inclination. "It was a mistake. I didn't... I didn't kill Castiel."

Dean freezes.

"What did you just say?"

and so four months after castiel's death, eighteen months after he became spider-man, sam finally does it- he reaches up and pulls off his mask.

it's done.

"Sam?"

dean's voice is broken beyond repair, and sam is sure he looks the same way.

"I didn't do it," he whispers.

but dean doesn't respond. he just stands, gun still raised and shaking between his fingers as he stares at sam with the look of utmost betrayal.

sam feels a phantom tap on his shoulder, looks up and sees the woman from earlier. he thinks he heard the older man call her missouri?

she raises an eyebrow and nods to the newly opened portal, and sam's eyes widen as he realizes she wants him to go with them.

he spares a glance back at dean, who immediately notices his thought process and makes to run at them, but the woman stops him in his tracks with some kind of trap. dean is screaming sam's name and banging against the barrier, yelling that he better not leave, or... well, who knows. sam doesn't hear it. all his focus is oriented on the glowing web of orange and red and green in front of him, offering a new beginning, a better life.

castiel once told him that growing up is hard- you're thrust into the world without any knowledge of who you are or what you're supposed to be, and that feeling of being utterly lost can be challenging, but not to worry- everybody finds their place eventually. deep down in the gaps between the turmoil pooling in his gut, sam thinks that maybe, just maybe, this might be it.

he turns his back to dean and jumps.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Slouching Towards Bethlehem

Author: norahastuff

Artist: Logan

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 27000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Canon compliant (more or less) Takes place during season 4 and 5 Grace Healing Dreamwalking Late night conversations A whole lot of beach talk

Posting Date: October 6, 2023

Summary: It's the end of the world, and neither Dean nor Castiel is feeling particularly fine. But while the world is still spinning, they have to find a way to keep living in it. The Apocalypse may not seem like the best time to forge a bond, but if some small measure of happiness can be found amidst all the pain and uncertainty that surrounds them, that can only be a good thing. And maybe sometimes good things do happen.

Excerpt: Dean seemed remarkably at ease, the relaxed lines of his body oddly distracting sprawled across the chair. “You sound like you disagree.” Castiel shrugged. “Sam knows you better than I do.” “In some ways. Come on, Cas, let’s not pretend. You get me.” His tone was light, but Castiel knew he was serious. He was aware he connected with Dean on a level that he couldn’t quite make sense of. Yes, Dean understood him, but he understood Dean too. While he’d been hesitant before to contradict Sam on his brother’s deepest desires, Dean had asked. Castiel met his gaze. “That life… It’s what you think you should want.” “Yeah,” Dean said, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands behind his head. “That’s where I landed with that whole thing too. Sam’s not wrong, if things were different, Lisa and I… maybe we could make it work. But they’re not. Even if we save the world, I’ll still be me. And I mean, I don’t actually know her all that well, anyway. We might end up hating each other if we try to give it a go for real.” Dean shrugged. “White picket fences sound good in theory, but really, I don’t think I’m the Mr. Suburbia type. Hawaii and Springsteen, though? That sounds like my kinda thing.” “I thought you didn’t like to fly?”  Dean waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take a bucket of Valium. Or we can charter a yacht. I’ve always wanted to go on a yacht.” “Well, my most recent experience on a boat wasn’t particularly enjoyable.” Since he was exiled from Heaven, he hadn’t known where he was going to wind up when he’d activated the banishing sigil he’d carved into his chest. A shrimping boat off the coast of Delacroix wouldn’t have been his first guess. “Big difference between fishing trawlers and luxury yachts, buddy. Come on, me, you... maybe Sam. He’s not much of a beach guy, but we’ll give it a shot. Might have to max out a few credit cards to make it work, but fuck it, right?” Dean’s eyes sparkled from something more than the alcohol. There was a vibrancy, something unquantifiable Castiel couldn’t put a name to. He was so emphatically alive, and Castiel didn’t care anymore whether they won or lost. Everything he had done had been worth it. Every additional second that Dean’s light burned in this godforsaken universe made it worth it.  Dean had balked when Castiel had compared him to Helen of Troy. Had claimed no one would ever go to war over him. Castiel had almost laughed at the absurdity. Helen may have summoned a nation to arms, but Dean could bring this universe to his knees if he tried. Castiel was suddenly glad he’d never had any real power to speak of. He wasn’t sure how far he’d go in service of protecting Dean, of preserving his happiness if he had the ability. He’d burn it all down if he had to.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Death by Exposure

Written for the Phic Phight Prompts: At first Danny had been worried sick that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom, but when no one believed him it had sort of become funny. Still, after the anti-ecto act, and the GIW, and his own parents very public very violently vitriolic screeds against ghosts, Danny had to wonder what he'd ever done to Wes that the guy would risk exposing Danny to all that. (from @hpwotters-blog, or at least I think that's you're tumblr.), Wes Weston wakes up to find an injured Phantom on the fire escape. (from @half-deadmagicperson), With how much time he spends on basketball and his delusional conspiracy theories, no one would ever suspect that Wes Weston has another secret hobby… (from @kadziduo), And Wes has been spending more and more time around Fenton and Co. lately - hey! he’s only trying to get some much-needed evidence against them, not trying to get all buddy-buddy with them. And anyway, they’re an entirely annoying bunch, so he wholeheartedly blames them for the fact that he’s currently being monologued at by the ghost holding him hostage. (from @a-closet-emo)

Chapter 6: Exposal

AO3 Link

[Warnings for kidnapping and violence]

The ghost took Wes to the the medieval history section of Amity Park museum, where he bound Wes to the rack in the exhibit on medieval torture devices. It wasn't enough to put Wes on an actual torture rack, though, no, because then, the ghosts started to monologue. 

"Do you know who I am, friend of Phantom?" the ghost asked, but Wes knew the start of an evil monologue when he heard one and he wasn't dumb enough to interrupt by trying to answer the rhetorical question. "I am Prince Aragon, rightful ruler of the Medieval Realm. Your friend Phantom, and his friend Sam, my would-be bride, were the ones responsible for influencing my foolhardy sister to betray me, and now they shall pay."

Well, at least Wes knew who to blame for the ghosts currently talking his ear off. If Sam still refused to trust him after this, he was going to revolt.

"They poisoned Isadora's mind with their twenty-first century ideas," the prince spat. "They made her think she was worthy of my throne, my crown, my amulet! They'll come to regret it, now that I've taken away something precious to them. The ghost boy will return my amulet to me so that I may reclaim my kingdom, or you will pay the ultimate price."

"Woah, time out!" Wes requested, shaking his head—the only thing he could move while on the rack. "You know Phantom is half human?"

"Of course," the prince scoffed. "The halfa is well known throughout the realms."

"You're fucking kidding me," Wes scowled. What a sick joke this had to be. He'd been trying to convince humans that half-ghosts were real and Danny was one for months, only now to learn that the ghosts knew the whole damn time. "Unbelievable."

"I don't see what you find so difficult to believe." Aragon looked down his nose at Wes like he was something the prince had had his servants scrape off the bottom of his shoe. "The ghost boy will soon see the ransom letter my loyal archer left at his abode. In the meantime, we will wait."

"So... did you just grab me because you saw me leaving Fenton's house?" Wes asked. "He has a sister you know; what if I'd been one of her friends instead? I mean, I was there with Danny, but I'm pretty sure Sam hates my guts and will not care what you do with me."

"Silence!"

"I'm just saying, you could've thought this plan through a little better," Wes told him. Aragon raised a hand in warning and Wes clammed up. Stupid Fenton. Stupid Manson. Stupid Foley, too, while he was at it, because when one of them were involved, they all were.

"This plan is foolproof," Aragon insisted, "which is essential, because Phantom and his fellows are certainly fools. I will have my amulet back, and once my power is restored, I will become the great dragon I was born and died to be, and lay waste to this feeble mortal realm before returning to my kingdom to face my mutinous sister and make her regret ever standing up to me." 

Wes knew better than to speak up, but he couldn't help thinking that, despite his claims otherwise, this Aragon creep really didn't sound like the victim here. Honestly, Wes just felt bad for his sister, whoever she was, far having to live with him for who knew how long. And Manson, who... wait, what did he mean when he said 'would-be bride' before?

"Hold on, were you planning on marrying Sam Manson?" Wes asked, vaguely disgusted. "Why?"

"She was selected by the halfa wretch as the most suitable human bride for a glorious ghostly monarch such as myself, and I needed a queen," Prince Aragon responded. "I'll be answering no more questions from you, cur. One more word, and I'll rip out your tongue." Wes snapped his mouth shut, pressing his lips together in a thin line. He very much wanted to keep his tongue, thank you. "Your friends should be here any minute."

Wes waited silently for nearly twenty minutes after that. Being kidnapped, as it turned out, was very boring. Eventually, though, Fenton and his friends crashed into the museum.

"Sorry we're late," Danny said. "The note on the arrow that got shot through my window just said to come to the most medieval place in Amity Park, and Tucker thought it was the castle hole at the miniature golf course." 

"That's a joke, right?" Wes asked flatly.

"In my defense, I didn't know Amity Park had a history museum!" Tucker said. "Seriously, how long has this been here?"

"Amity Park Museum was established 1939, but this wing was added in 1952 to accommodate growing attendance and a greater number of exhibits," Sam read off a plaque on the wall. "So about seventy years, Tuck."

"Enough rabble!" Aragon shouted, silencing the teens, "Give me my amulet or your friend will face the fiery inferno!"

Danny wasted no time in firing off a ghost ray at Aragon, throwing him into the wall. "How about you amuLET Wes go, and we take you back to your dungeon to rot?" Wes groaned at the pun. Aragon was already getting back up. "Get Wes free! I'll deal with this asshole!" An arrow whizzed passed Danny's head and he turned to see an archer behind him. "Okay, maybe be quick about it, because I don't know how long I can handle both these guys at once."

Wes could practically hear Kyle's voice in his head snickering out a 'that's what she said' through his shit-eating grin, but Wes tastefully refrained from speaking the joke into being. Kyle was ten times the menace Phantom had ever been. Once Sam and Tucker got his hands free, Wes urged them to help Danny, assuring them that he could unbind himself the rest of the way. As soon as he was off the rack, Wes crawled under the din of the battle above him to his backpack, which Aragon had cast to the side when they arrived.

Trying not to get hit by the ecto-blasts, arrows, and other medieval weapons that were getting thrown around, he fished around in his backpack for the wrist ray he'd literally never used before. It was buried at the bottom, under books, pencils, and numerous crumpled papers, but once he got it out and on his wrist he activated it. As soon as he turned to join the fray, he watched Danny sucking Aragon into the Fenton Thermos. Too little too late, he supposed.

"Damn," Wes grumbled, deactivating his wrist ray. "I really wanted to shoot that royal bastard in his disgusting face." Danny laughed.

"Don't worry, I got plenty of hits in for you," he assured. "You good on your way home or do you want an escort? You know, to make sure you don't get kidnapped again?" 

"I think I'll be okay," Wes said, rolling his eyes at what he assumed was some kind of barb about him not being able to handle himself. "Ghosts aren't exactly known for kidnapping people on the regular."

"Well... if that's—if you're sure then—"

"What Danny means to say is that he'd feel better if you let him walk you home," Sam said. "You'll have to excuse him, he's gets anxious about this kinda thing."

"Oh, because he's obsessed with protecting everyone and blames himself for me being kidnapped because it was kinda his fault?" Wes guessed.

"Bingo," Tucker shot a finger gun Wes' way and winked.

"Guys!" Danny complained. "You don't have to call me out like that!"

"Yeah, alright." Wes shrugged and grabbed his backpack off the ground. "I don't mind if you wanna walk me home." Danny brightened, and changed back to human form before they all left the museum and Sam and Tucker split off to head to their respective homes.

"Thank the Ancients we were able to just fight Aragon," Danny said after a few minutes. "I was worried he might have you in some kind of magical trap or something that would only open with the amulet."

"Yeah, that would've been bad," Wes agreed. "You didn't hear him monologuing at me, but he was totally planning to destroy the whole town if he got it, so it's good you didn't give it to him."

"I couldn't have, even if I wanted to," Danny admitted. "I have no idea where his amulet even is. It might be buried in my closet somewhere, or at my locker at school, or in my parents lab, or somewhere in the Ghost Zone, like, I genuinely don't remember what I did with it at all." Wes snorted and burst into a laugh.

"Some hero you are," he teased. "Can't even keep track of your shit."

"I actually think I may have given it back to his sister," Danny said thoughtfully. "I should ask her when I go to drop him off in her dungeon. I should probably know the location of the magic amulet that can turn its wearer into a dragon."

"Yeah, probably," Wes agreed. "You're not just gonna set him loose back in the Ghost Zone, like you usually do?"

"No, he's a criminal, even in the Ghost Zone. He abused his sister and the citizens of the Medieval Realm for sixteen-hundred years. He doesn't get to just fly free after that. He still has fifteen-hundred and ninety-nine years left on his sentence."

"Huh... okay then." Wes nodded in consideration. That seemed like a suitable sentence. Aragon was really annoying. "He deserves it." 

"Totally."

They reached the door of Wes' apartment building and said their goodbyes. Danny waited outside until he saw the light in Wes' bedroom turn on, just to be safe.

A little while later, Wes remembered what else he'd learned from Aragon, and he got the chance to complain to Danny about how unfair it was that literally all the ghosts knew who he was but no humans ever believed it, and the rest of them laughed in his face. One good thing did come out of getting kidnapped by an evil ghost prince, and that was that Sam and Tucker were less guarded around him. It seemed like being personally targeted by a ghost was some sort of rite of passage to become Danny's friend, and Wes had passed.

In any case, he'd been more or less accepted into their little clique now, and being around them without Sam and Tucker scrutinizing his every word and smothering him with their suspicions presented Wes with tons of opportunities to study ghosts, and to gather evidence that they weren't what the G.I.W. and the Fentons claimed they were.

It wasn't enough yet. Probably wouldn't be for a while. But one day, Wes would prove that ghosts were sentient. One day, Wes would get those genocidal anti-ecto acts repealed. He'd get the G.I.W. disbanded. He'd change the world's entire understanding of ghosts, one way or another. And then—then he would show everyone that Danny Fenton had truly been Danny Phantom the entire time!

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[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interval Chapter 4

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Master Post - Patreon

“Alright, pizza’s coming through!” Faustus announced as he walked over to the kitchen counter.

“WitchHaven is such a nice place,” Mayhem commented. “Fairly calm, no overt crime… such places are few and far between when it comes to humans.”

Antonio set the boxes up side by side. “I take it things went well?”

“Without a hitch, but a few people were giving us odd looks. Our human forms probably need some adjustments…”

“His, not mine,” Faustus interjected. “Mayhem, no one rolls around in medieval clothing these days…”

“Renaissance, not medieval.” Faustus gave Mayhem an incredulous look, causing the others to chuckle.

“Sorry we couldn’t make a proper dinner tonight, Adrien,” Antonio said as the others took turns getting their slices.

“No te preocupes, there’s not much we can do about it. Besides, I’ve been craving some pizza lately. I was on a mission to Italy recently and I would’ve gotten some there had I not been bushwacking it with Antares and Marcus.”

“You know what?” Will said after swallowing his food. “When I was living with my parents, this was not the kind of action I was craving.”

Adrien laughed sympathetically. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Will.”

“Yeah… so what’s next?”

“Well ideally the cargo helicopter will arrive tomorrow at 2 PM. Once we make sure everything’s good to go, we’ll get moving.”

Sam nodded. “I take it M.A.I.G. knows what’s up by now?”

“Yup,” Adrien said as he wiped his face. “Apparently Dr. Reynard was two steps ahead of us as he was ready to go when Antares called Trumna.”

Randalph stroked his chin in contemplation. “Interesting, lending credence to my theory that he’s a reincarnated primordial…”

“A primordial?” Will inquired. “What’s that?”

Before Randalph could answer, Sam put her hand on Will’s. “It’s nothing, Boyo. Just stuff from a long time ago.”

Randalph gave her a mildly confused look. “Er, right. Either way, it shouldn’t be too relevant to us as I doubt other ones are involved. What is the plan of attack once Will is at M.A.I.G., Adrien?”

“Not sure. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there… haha, get there, hehe.”

The rest of the meal went smoothly, with Adrien telling the group more about his recent missions. After a fascinating tale about one that took Adrien all the way to Greenland, Will got out a movie for everyone to enjoy. The following day everyone kept an eye on the sky for the helicopter. 2 o’clock rolled around with no sign of it. Will sat around on the grass, waiting patiently with Faustus.

Growing bored at around 4 o’clock, Faustus whistled for Adrien. “Hey, Adrien? Where’s the van?”

He was tuning up his motorcycle. “Probably some paperwork and clearance hooha. Antares cautioned me about that.”

Will tapped Faustus’ arm. “He did say ideally after all.”

“I know, Champ. It’s just that I feel like we’re sitting ducks at the moment.”

Another hour passed and it was 5 o’clock. Sam joined Will and Faustus as they looked bored. She had finished packing their essentials and had nothing else to do. Things then grew a little too quiet, followed by everyone sensing something awful. A small torrent of grisly smoke erupted from the road and up rose what must have been Valentin. Despite his regal looking attire, he did not seem like the most pleasant individual to be around. Still, he was a bit handsome and even a little charming in a maniacal sort of way.

Adrien and Antonio sprung into action, pressing the barrels of their guns into him. Valentin laughed and waved a white handkerchief around. “Parlay, Gentlemen. Parlay. Besides, if both of you blow my brains out, it’ll end poorly for all of us.”

Antonio groaned as he realized the blast from his shotgun would potentially hit Adrien and lowered it. “Damn it… alright, what do you want?”

Valentin’s head twitched as a smile stretched across it. It was unnerving to say the least. “I just came to announce that it looks like our little dance will be moving to Red River. Bethany has already returned to her crypt, so you all best not be late…”

Adrien moved the barrel of his handgun to Valentin’s temple. “What do you want? Spill it.”

Valentin would have been lying if he said the gun did not make him a little nervous. Adrien had been known to pull the trigger when the chips were down. “Zasiel’s soul, for it is coveted by my… my…” he growled, struggling to hold back a string of profanities. “...master,” he said through gritted teeth.

Faustus walked right up to Valentin and flared his nostrils. A plume of black smoke came from them. “You have no right to refer to him by that name.”

“You’re not going to get it, Perkele!” Will shakily declared. His legs were twitching a bit from the distress he felt.

This made him laugh. “Ooh! Are you honoring me or insulting me?” He then handed him what looked like an invitation. It was unclear if this was provocation or courtesy.

“What the Hell even are you?” Will asked, confused and terrified.

“An agent of chaos, no different from you, o’Zasiel. You have quite the legacy given that you’re one of The Nightmare of Old, a fragment of the wicked Tyrant God…”

Something about that struck a nerve with Sam. She went right up to him and began slamming the intruder around with inhuman strength. Everyone panicked as Sam was going berserk, hollering and screeching like a mad warrior. Valentin tried to fight back, but was slammed right into the road. He then tried to crawl towards Will, but Sam dragged the demented jester towards a tree and pinned him up against it, bruised and bloodied.

“DON’T YOU EVER CALL HIM THAT AGAIN, YOU WASTE OF HUMAN LIFE!!” Sam shouted at the top of her lungs as she readied her fist. Her voice was echoing and making the ground tremble.

Just as Valentin braced himself, there was a loud rumbling approaching that was not Sam. They all looked up as the cargo helicopter thundered over them. As the rest covered their ears, Sam looked back at Valentin.

“Good bye!” he cheekily said as he vanished.

Once the noise was gone, Will cautiously approached his girlfriend. “S-Sam? Are you…?”

“WHAT!?” she barked, a hint of power still left in her voice. This made Will recoil in fear, falling to the ground.

Adrien went and grabbed her by the arm. “SAM! What the Hell’s gotten into you!?” he demanded to know as the others helped Will up.

This made her come to her senses. “What the… Oh God, Boyo! Don’t worry, it’s alright, I’m not mad at you…” Sam tried her best to hug him. “Sorry sorry sorry…”

“Alright, everyone get inside Sam’s house!” Adrien instructed. “I’m going to go get the van and then we’re off!” He hopped on his motorcycle, started it up, and sped off down the road.

Randalph remained outside with Mayhem. “I think one of my theories just got proven right, Mayhem.”

“You don’t think that’s Morrigan Devilfay, do you?” Mayhem asked as he picked up the invitation Will had dropped.

“The strength, the way her eyes turned purple, and the way she reacted to what Valentin said? I’m sure of it.”

Mayhem scratched his chin. “Speaking of what he said, you don’t think Anne is foolish enough to try Karnage’s failed plan again?”

“No. They would’ve tried to capture Will already if that was the case.”

“And given the insinuation, should we assume Valentin is in league with the cult?”

Randalph nodded. “Absolutely.” He started to pace. “Why they would be after Will is anyone’s guess… unless he has something they need.”

Mayhem had a lurking suspicion. “Do you think he has the potential?”

“I don’t think, I know he has the potential for ULTRAMagic, Mayhem.”

“Then it’s a case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“It would seem so. I don’t think we’re seeing a repeat of the past. I think this is a new plan. And unfortunately for Will, he’s the only one with the potential for the trait at the moment. The others who have already achieved it are in The Unlight, making them untouchable for whatever Valentin is scheming.”

“I see why you brought me along now,” Mayhem concluded. “It pains me to see him get wrapped up in our conflicts.”

Randalph tapped his staff on the road and sighed. “The best we can do is keep him safe for now. We’ll call in the guild if we have to. Keep your eyes and ears open once you get to Red River.”

“Of course. I just hope we don’t have to call in the guild in the first place, as that would mean things are worse than we what thought.”

“As an aside, Will is a capable mage,” Randalph said as he tapped his staff on the ground once more, creating a magical barrier around the area. “Even if it doesn’t seem like it, a little encouragement goes a long way with him.”

“Duly noted, Randalph.”

Steel Cat vans were a more casual means of transport for The Liger Brigade, but provided fantastic protection in a fire fight. Adrien pulled into Sam’s driveway and shut off the engine. It was dinner time, he was stressed out, and his stomach was growling. Walking inside the house, he was greeted by the smell of spaghetti and the sight of everyone eating peacefully, despite what had happened earlier.

“Ha, well what’s all this?” Adrien asked.

“Hey, Adrien!” Will said from the table, followed by everyone else welcoming him back. Will sounded noticeably better, and so did Sam.

Antonio sat Adrien down at the table. “Welcome back, Adrien. I was all worked up, so I went and made us a nice and big dinner before everyone heads out.”

“Gracias, Antonio,” Adrien replied as Antonio put some food on his plate. “Getting the van off the helicopter was a pain, but we’re all good to go. Pretty comfy in there too, not going to lie.”

“Thankfully nothing else happened while you were gone,” Buster pointed out. “Hey, Adrien? Do you think the people at M.A.I.G. would be up for interviews as a part of a piece I want to write about the organization?”

Olivia was flabbergasted. “Now, of all times? And everyone said I was a workaholic…”

Adrien chuckled. “Just don’t leak any classified stuff and you should be fine.”

Kyu finished slurping some noodles. “Oh, Trevor did talk to Umuka before you got back, Adrien. He’s already on his way to Red River.”

“I see. I guess that means Valentin was being truthful about Bethany heading back to Mt. Steadyrock then.”

Will sighed. “I’ll take that reprieve.”

It was 8 o’clock when Will, Faustus, Sam, Buster, and Olivia began to get into the van. Mayhem went ahead and teleported to M.A.I.G. headquarters. Faustus could have gone with him, but he wanted to keep Will and the others safe. Trevor and his parents were there, having popped in to say goodbye before they all left.

“Don’t you darlings fret, we won’t let anything happen to this place while you’re gone,” Nathaniel assured. “I’ll even call on General Washington’s ghost if I have to!”

Adelaide giggled. “Dear, I don’t think we’ll have to go that far. Still, stay safe, everyone.”

Trevor gave Will a hug. “Look, Will? This is not me doubting you, but if things go south, you’re more than welcome to stay with us as a ghost.”

Will chuckled. “Thanks, Trevor. Don’t worry, they’re not going to get the best of me. Bye for now, everyone” he said as he got into the van.

With everyone inside, Adrien closed her door and rolled down the window. “Adios, amigos. Wish us luck.”

“Give us a call when you get there and teach Perkele a lesson he won’t soon forget” Antonio said as the van started to pull out of the driveway.

It was worrying and surreal to see the van drive down the hill. Everyone who was staying behind watched until it disappeared into the horizon. The silence was haunting as the nighttime chill crept in.

“I’m sort of hoping they turn around because it turns out to be safer here…” Kyu stated.

“I know how you feel, little buddy,” Antonio reassured.

Randalph clapped his hands. “No need to be so glum, gentlemen. How about I teach you some magic so perhaps we can join them if need be?”

“A capital idea, Mr. Scarfe,” Nathaniel complimented. “Trevor, Adelaide? Shall we head off on a nightly patrol?”

“Certainly,” Adelaide agreed. “We better make sure that scoundrel didn’t leave any nasty surprises for us.”

“The arrogance and irony of calling yourself ‘Perkele’ is something I’ll never understand,” Trevor remarked as the ghosts vanished.

Antonio subtly nodded to that point. “Alright, Randalph, show us some tricks.”

“Just note that I am partial towards alchemy” Kyu stated as they all went into Sam’s house. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around necromancy.”

“Kyu, my friend, I started out as an Alchemist,” Randalph replied. “Personally I think alchemical doctrine is the true foundation of all magic. Also I think you have more potential than you realize…”

Next:

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes-Chapter 24

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant, Lucy Lane, Damian Wayne, Felicity Smoak, Streaky the Supercat, Martha Kent, Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul, Lucius Fox, Maggie Sawyer, Alex Danvers, Jason Todd, Otis Graves, Lex Luthor

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Lillian sighed as she watched the clock at Noonan’s gradually tick away the time. She felt a sudden squeeze of her hand. She looked to the seat next to her at the restaurant to see Martha smiling back at her. 

“Everything is going to be okay. The worst that can happen is that Amanda won’t tell us anything and send us on our way.”

Lillian gave her a soft smile. She reached down and kissed Martha’s hand and said, “I’m more concerned that she will rat us out to Lex more so anything else.”

Martha raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is that why you suggested meeting at Noonan’s instead of the office?”

Lillian sighed and said, “Lex is lax with watching over me, but you can never be too careful. Both Amanda and I frequent this restaurant enough that it wouldn’t be unusual for us to bump into each other and have a few words.”

Martha looked at Lillian baffled and asked, “Wait? You guys see each other here often?”

Lillian leaned back in her chair and said, “Yes. Amanda and I are usually around here late morning or early afternoon. However, we tend to avoid each other.” Lillian shook her head and sighed. She continued, “Amanda and I used to be best friends in college. We came up with the idea of Cadmus during our senior year as a capstone project. We thought that there should not only be an organization that studies the extraterrestrial lifeforms that were already on Earth but also learn how to coexist with each other. I focused more on the business side of things whereas Amanda worked towards networking and getting funding. Everything went well until Zod came into the picture several years ago.”

Martha winced and said, “I hate that name with a passion.”

“You are not alone in that sentiment. It reshaped Amanda’s perception of aliens as a whole. She viewed every one of them as a threat and that they needed to be removed from Earth. Lex provided her with options to achieve that and in return, she provided him funding to support his research efforts on the subject. I objected to all of this, but she still pushed me out. Fortunately, enough people from Cadmus didn’t like Amanda’s new direction and decided to come with me as I formed my own company.”

“If you think she has so much hatred against aliens, why do you think she would talk to us.”

Lillian leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully. 

“There have been rumors of Leviathan changing direction for a while now. They have always been anti-alien, but their choices in political candidates have been interesting to say to least.”

Martha looked at her quizzically and asked, “How so?”

“Well, the candidates they have supported so far are pro-alien rights and making reforms to help aliens become citizens. It is a complete 180. Lex wasn’t willing to cooperate with their changes so he was cut off. Amanda has used funding from Leviathan in the past. I am curious to see if she followed the road Lex took in regards to them, or if she fell in line to their new policy. If she did, we may be able to get something out of her.”

Martha nodded and said, “I like that particular theory. Hopefully, it doesn’t take that long to get information out of her. I have so much to do to prepare for tonight.” 

Lillian smirked and asked, “Worried about meeting the children I see?”

Martha pouted which caused Lillian to smile. She loved teasing Martha just a tiny bit. 

Lillian caressed Martha’s face and said, “You don’t have to worry. Sam, Lena, and Ruby will adore you as much as I do.”

Martha looked down while twiddling her thumbs and said, “Well, Lena has kind of avoided me with everything with Clark. I just worried that she might…”

Lillian kissed Martha’s hand which caused her to blush.

“Lena is more than okay with everything. All three girls are happy that I have put myself back out there.”

Martha smiled and said, “Still, I want to make a good impression and make sure that everything goes smoothly.”

Lillian smiled and said, “It will darling. I am just as eager to meet Kara. I have never seen Lena this happy before. It is like she is floating on cloud nine everyday.”

Martha chuckled and said, “I am not surprised. Kara is a bundle of sunshine that will brighten anyone’s day. I just wished that some of that would rub off on Clark. He used to be so optimistic, but now….”

Lillian squeezed Martha’s hand and said, “Hopefully this stuff with Lex will give us insight into Clark. I don’t have any proof, but I am willing to bet money that Lex has something to do with Clark’s behavioral changes.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” said a woman’s voice. 

Lillian and Martha nearly jumped out of their seats. They turned to see a black woman of medium build and short black hair staring at them. She had on a blue business suit. Lillian quickly change her expression to surprise to passive. 

The woman smirked and said, “You are losing your touch Lillian. It is nice to see that I can still take you by surprise.” 

The woman pulled up a chair and sat down with them. 

Lillian sighed and said, “It is nice to see you too, Amanda.”

Amanda smirked while she turned towards Martha and said, “I am assuming that since you brought Superman’s mother that you are wondering about if Lex had anything in store for him.”

Martha looked at her startled and asked, “How….”

Amanda chuckled and said, “Lex wasn’t very subtle about his infatuation with your son.”

Martha glared at the woman while gripping the table until her knuckles went white. 

Martha growled, “Yet you help a mad man hurt my son over and over again.”

Amanda sighed  while leaning back in her chair and said, “Would you believe me if I told you it was never my attention that he got hurt?”

Martha scoffed and said, “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Amanda chuckled and said, “Well, I did want your son neutralized after the events with Zod.”

Martha winced at that statement. 

Amanda sighed and said, “And before you say anything, I realized that your son was being controlled by Zod. However, that fight between them caused over 200 people to die. Most had the nuance of separating Superman from that. He was drugged after all. However, your son isn’t normal. What if he is drugged or mind controlled again? Who is there to stop him. The Justice League was barely able to contain him the last time. We need measures in place for if that were to occur.”

Read the rest on AO3

[ghostly-hitch-hiker]

Puberty Speedrun (pt 2)

Chapter 1: Part 1, Part 2 (you are here!), Part 3

Synopsis: Danny wakes up a lot older than when he went to bed. Shenanigans ensue (eventually taking him all the way to Gotham).

One quick, invisible and intangible trip into his parents’ closet later, Danny was dressed in a U of M t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that felt much better than his ruined pajamas, despite the dust. Jack Fenton wasn’t one to wear his old college gear when his ever practical jumpsuit was an option, but that meant Danny at least had something to wear that his father wouldn’t miss. He was on step 1.5 of his to-do list (throwing his ruined pajamas in the little trash can he kept in the bathroom) when Jazz knocked on the door.

“Danny? You alright in there, little brother? I heard a pretty loud thud from here a bit earlier,” Jazz called from the hallway.

Danny swore under his breath and called back from the bathroom, desperately trying to pitch his voice higher, and thus closer, to how his sister remembered, “Yeah, Jazz! It’s fine! I’m fine!” He winced at every word. Geez, it sounded more like he was being strangled than anything convincing. Ancient, don’t let her come in here. Please, please, let her accept the words at face value and ignore the actual… everything else about them. There was silence from the hallway, then a sigh.

“Well, I hope you’re dressed because I’m coming in anyway. Sorry, baby bro,” she said, already halfway through Danny’s door. “Don’t quite believe you.”

“Jazz! No! I promise I’m fine! Just don’t come in!”

“Too late, little man! I’m already—oh whoah,” Jazz gasped, looking up just a bit in order to meet her brother’s eyes. The two siblings stood frozen in their respective doorways, individual bedheads contributing to the all encompassing bizarreness of the situation. “Guess I jumped the gun on calling you little man,” was all Jazz could say in the intervening moments.

Danny groaned and slumped against the bathroom door frame. He looked at his sister through his bangs and pouted, “You couldn’t have taken my word for it just this once?”

Jazz closed the bedroom door and crossed her arms. “Hard no, little brother. You sounded like you’d swallowed a cheese grater.”

“Ew, okay, bad image, thanks for that.” Danny sighed and sank to the floor, banging his head lightly against the wood of the frame. Jazz followed him down, wrapping her arms around her knees, and looked at Danny with her trademarked Older Sister Glance of Absolutely Unwarranted Concern.

“What happened, Danny?” Jazz asked, voice soft.

“Dunno. I literally just woke up like… this,” he grumbled, gesturing to all of himself.

“You just gestured to all of you.” Jazz smirked, and Danny groaned. “Any idea what caused it? Is it a spooky side effect?” she asked.

“Could be.” Danny shrugged as he met his sister’s eyes. “Not sure what the catalyst was though. Last night was full of the same old, same old.”

“No pet theories or ideas?” Jazz questioned.

Danny shook his head. “Nope. Nothing I can think of.”

Jazz hummed and tucked her chin between her knees, staring at her now apparently older brother. There was a minute of blissful quiet only interrupted by faint hammering coming from the basement and birdsong out the window. Jazz’s voice was almost a whisper when she spoke again. “Have you talked to Sam and Tucker yet? Do they have any ideas?”

“Not yet. I’ve only been up for like a half hour,” Danny mumbled back.

Jazz nodded and unfolded her limbs until she was standing. She walked over to Danny and offered a hand, smiling softly although a bit sad. Danny idly wondered where the sadness could be coming from, and engulfed Jazz’s hands with his own unfamiliar one. Jazz tugged him upward.

“Well then,” she said, smiling upward at her brother. “I’ll make breakfast. You text Sam and Tucker. We’ll eat, and if no one comes up with any grand ideas, it might be time for a little trip into the Ghost Zone.”

Danny shoved his hands in his borrowed sweatpants pockets and rolled his eyes. “Stop being so practical.”

Jazz scoffed and kicked Danny’s shin lightly before heading towards the bedroom door. “Someone’s got to be around here. Breakfast will be ready in thirty. Any requests?”

“Just make sure it’s not alive or kicking.”

“Oh please. What do you take me for?” Jazz called back from the hall, “And call your friends, Dweeb!”

Danny dragged his feet the whole long way back to his nightstand and picked up his phone.

---

@markus209 @kyrianclawraith , y’all asked to be tagged if I wrote more, so here’s the next part of the chapter. Part 3 is coming tomorrow, and then it’s one to chapter 2 (which I already have started! Yeah!)

Thank you so much for reading and for your interest in what I’ve written! I hope you enjoy! This is my first fic, and I’m so psyched to write more.

[words-after-midnight]

WIP Playlist Tag

Thank you for the tag @crowandmoonwriting!!

Rules: list at least 4 songs from your current WIP playlist, or just a writing playlist you’ve been using lately, and the lyrics that speak to you the most! 

Music is a major source of inspiration for my writing. My actual story playlist for Life in Black and White is instrumental, so I'll just list ten inspiration songs + favorite lyrics that give me the BIG FEELS for my story. ETA: added them all to a playlist in case anyone wants to listen.

TV on the Radio - Careful You | Oui je t'aime, oui je t'aime, from the cradle to the grave / You've done a number on my heart, and things will never be the same

Purity Ring - Shuck | I'll shuck all the light from my skin and I'll hide it in you / I'll pluck the long grass that grows from me and I'll hide it in you

Depeche Mode - Wrong | There's something wrong with me chemically / Something wrong with me inherently / The wrong mix in the wrong genes / I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means / It was the wrong plan in the wrong hands / The wrong theory for the wrong man / The wrong eyes on the wrong prize / The wrong questions with the wrong replies

Sufjan Stevens - John My Beloved | I am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands / There's only a shadow of me / In a manner of speaking, I'm dead

O + S - The Fox | But then one day I ran out of bread / And wood to keep the fire / And when I woke, I found she had fled / To the house down the river / And I cried all night / Because I thought she was mine

Kaia Kater - Viper's Nest | Sing me sweet in the bitter bite of hell / Sing me sweet in the rushes and the swells / How sad it seems to love a thing / When all in life is a reckoning / How twisted trees and knotted pine / Will have me know that you're not mine

Mumford & Sons - Lover's Eyes | But do not ask the price I pay / I must live with my quiet rage / Tame the ghosts in my head / That run wild and wish me dead / Should you shake my ash to the wind / Lord, forget all of my sins / Oh, let me die where I lie / Beneath the curse of my lover's eyes

Gordon Lightfoot - Race Among the Ruins | You think you had the last laugh, now you know this can't be true / Even though the sun shines down upon you now, sometimes you must feel blue / You make the best of each new day, you try not to be sad / Even though the sky falls down upon you, call it midnight, feeling bad / When you wake up to the promise of your dream world coming true / With one less friend to call on, was it someone that I knew? / Away you will go sailing in a race among the ruins / If you have to face tomorrow, do it soon

Enya - Amid the Falling Snow | The silence of a winter's night / Brings memories I hold inside / Remembering the blue moonlight / Upon the fallen snow / Maybe I am falling down / Tell me, should I touch the ground? / Maybe I won't make a sound / In the darkness all around / I close my window to the night / I leave the sky her tears of white / And all is lit by candlelight / Amid the falling snow

Glass Animals - It's All So Incredibly Loud | Super silence in the quiet, eye inside the storm / Water from your broken iris fell toward the floor / Everything waiting, shaking as it drops / I tried for you and I, too hard, for too long / Gave it all and everything for more time, but I lost / Ooh, we're breaking down / Whispers would deafen me now / You don't make a sound / Heartbreak was never so loud

Tagging: @catchingbigfish, @sunset-a-story, @joeys-piano, @mrbexwrites, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @thatndginger, @sam-glade, @purplecowbell, @winterandwords, @nanashi23

[pedrettilov3r]

HATE TO LOVE. chapter three

pairings: chad meeks martin x fem!oc

SCREAM 6 SPOILERS

     Nellie left Tara's room and joined the rest of the group who were all hanging out in the living area and watching whatever was on tv. "Great, she's still here." Chad huffed under his breath when he saw Nellie join the group.

Nellie rolled her eyes, "Oh great, he's still here." she mocked him as she flipped him off.

He only glared in response as everyone's attention was diverted to the screen where the news channel started to cover a murder that had just occurred. A chill went down Nellie's spine as the room grew quiet and Chad ran out to get Sam.

Sam rushed into the room with some guy Nellie had never seen but she ignored that and focused on everything the news reporter was saying.

"What's going on?" Sam questioned as Chad pointed to the screen everyone was watching.

Everyone became even more freaked out when the reporter named the victims who happened to be in the same film class as Mindy and Tara.

Nellie glanced over at sam Sam who looked terrified, "Pack a bag. We leave in ten." she said, as Tara tried to calm her from her paranoid state. They continued to argue as Tara followed Sam into another room. The guy that had come in with Sam looked more confused than anyone at the events unfolded. Chad began to shoo him out of the apartment and Nellie couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. She immediately tried to cover up the sound before Chad turned around but it was too late. The tall boy met her eyes and said, "Oh so now you think I'm funny."

Nellie scrambled to think of a witty comeback after being caught, but all that came out was "No..your face is just funny."

"Woooowww that was really good." He sarcastically teased her.

"Fuck off Martin it's been a long day." she spat out at him

He walked over and sat next to her on the couch reaching his arm around behind her. "Oh I'm sorry, do I hear Nellie Anderson forfeiting an argument?" He leaned over and whispered into her ear.

She looked over and glared at him. "In your dreams Martin."

He chuckled under his breath, and it wasn't until she felt his breath on her face that Nellie realized how close they were. She cleared her throat as a way to bring them both back to reality and she scrambled to stand up, leaving Chad alone on the couch.

God, she hated him.

     She quickly rejoined everyone else, listening to the argument Tara and Sam were having about how serious the situation might be.

"Look, Quinn, your dad's a cop right?" Tara asked, desperately trying to grasp some hold over the situation. "Can you call him and find out what's going on?" Quinn quickly agreed and started calling her dad, only to be cut off by Sam's phone ringing. Everyone in the room jumped at the sound and stared silently at the phone. Sam shakily walked over to it as everyone watched in anticipation.

"Who is it?" Nellie asked shakily

"Why did everyone just freak out when her phone rang?" Ethan asked cluelessly and everyone just stared at him.

"You have got to keep up my dude," Anika replied

Quinn then handed her phone off to Sam, stating that her dad would like to speak with her. They all waited in silence to hear how serious the situation is. After Sam hung up the phone she told everyone that Quinn's dad wanted her and Tara to come done to the station so everyone decided to call it a night. Silently hoping they would all see each other the next day.

     By the time they got together again the next day Sam and Tara had been attacked again. This meant that it wasn't just a coincidence and someone really was after them. Nellie knew that this meant that she was now a target by association, which terrified her.

The group now sat on campus listening to Mindy rant about all the possible suspects. The group went around discussing all of their theories about about how the killer might be trying to copy the events from years prior.

Mindy continued her speech "It would make sense if this were just a sequel, but were not in a sequel. Because nobody just makes sequels anymore." We all stared at her as we waited for her to continue "We're in a franchise!" She yelled dramatically. "And there are certain rules to a continuing franchise." Everyone sighed at this because they knew this speech was gonna go on for a lot longer.

"Rule one: Everything is bigger than last time. Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger body count, longer chases, shootouts, beheadings, they gotta top what came before to keep people coming back."

Chad raised his pencil up with a confused look and says "beheadings?"

"beheadings!" Mindy confirms and Nellie just shakes her head at the twin's antics.

"Rule two: Whatever happened last time expect the opposite. Franchises only survive by subverting expectations. If the killers last time were whiny, snowflake, film nerds with letterboxd accounts instead of personalities you can bet the opposite will be true here."

"Hey, I use letterboxd." Nellie interjected looking offended

Chad snorted a laugh "Yeah, you would."

The girl only responded by flipping the boy off

"Moving on," Mindy glared at the two. "Rule three: No one is safe. Legacy characters? Canon fodder at this point, usually brought back only to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It's not looking too good for Gale and Kirby. Ooooh and that's not even the worst part."

"Oh this is the part where she tells us the worst part" Chad adds

"The worst part is, franchises are just continuing episodic installments designed to boost an IP, which means main characters are completely expendable now too." Mindy explained

Nellie felt her heart drop to her stomach and she looked over at Tara, who was completely focused on what Mindy was saying.

"Lori Strode, Nancy Thompson, Ellen Ripley, Sally Hardesty, Jigsaw, Tony Stark, James Bond, I mean even Luke Skywalker! They all died so their franchises could live on! That means it's not just the friendgroup. Any of us could go at any time..especially Sam and Tara." Mindy concluded.

Nellie felt tears well in her eyes and it took everything in her to keep them from spilling out. She stared at the ground and reached beside her to grab Tara's hand, squeezing it to let her know that she wasn't gonna let anything happen to her. When she finally lifted her head back up and looked around she met Chad's eyes, that were already on her. She didn't know how long he had been looking at her but his eyes held some sort of empathy that she had never seen directed at her. Nellie finally broke eye contact and tried to shake the interaction from her mind by focusing on the conversation the group was having.

"Wait-wait any of us?" Ethan asked with a scared look in his eye "does that--am I in the friend group?"

"Yeah" Mindy answered.

"Am I like one of the targets?"  he paused, "Am I gonna die a virgin?" He asked with genuine concern

Nellie couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth, but she quickly tried to cover it with a cough when she saw Ethan's embarrassed expression.

"That was a weird overshare," Mindy replied "but it brings us to our current suspects..Ethan, the shy dorky guy who no one suspects because he's so shy and dorky."

"Okay what-why am I on the suspect list because I'm randomly Chad's roommate?" Ethan questions

"Roomate lotteries can be duped, you could've fixed it to get next to us." Ethan rolled his eyes "Quinn," she continued "the slutty roommate, a horror movie classic."

"Sex positive, but..thank you?" Quinn replied

"Mhm..um how did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" She interrogated

"I answered their add online-"

"OKAY. Say no more, you've already implicated yourself enough" Mindy accused

"It was an anonymous ad, Mindy, and you know we vetted her. Plus her dad is a cop."

"And that makes it more likely that she's the killer because having a cop dad is a great cover! Do you not remember how these movies work Tara?"  Mindy yelled at the younger Carpenter sister

"And now we have Nellie. The lovely Eleanor Anderson, don't you think it's just a little odd how quickly you and Tara became best friends? What was it..two weeks? I mean we all met you at college and we basically know nothing about your life." Mindy interrogated

Nellie felt her stomach drop at the mention of her life before moving away from her. She had kept the details of her personal life to herself, not even daring to tell Tara. She masked reaction by rolling her eyes at the girl "Yes, it is rare to find a friend you click with that fast, and I really do wish I had an answer for it, but I can't explain it to you either. We just have a connection." she answered.

Chad interjected "Oh wow, really great alibi," he remarked sarcastically "I would just like to say that I never trusted Nellie and if she turns out to be the killer I'm just saying, I told you so." 

Nellie elbowed him in the ribs and scoffed "Fuck off Chad, you're just jealous of me and Tara's special bond." she mocked him

Mindy moved the list along "And finally Anika," she blew her girlfriend a kiss "never trust the love interest" she said coldly

"Okay. so we have our rules and we have our suspects." Sam started before she was cut off by Ethan

"Wait-what about you guys?" He questioned, pointing to Chad, Mindy, Sam, and Tara.

"I mean I think it's pretty safe to rule out the four of us who went through this last year in Woodsboro," Mindy stated

"Agreed." Chad pitched in

"Not agreed-" Nellie started "I would just like to say that clearly, Chad is a sociopath so if it is anyone it is definitely him."

"She might be onto something" Quinn agreed "What if the trauma you all went through caused one or more of you to snap?"

"Yeah," Ethan said "What if the thing you got from the killings made you thirsty for more? I mean to be honest here, some of the theories online about Sam are-"

"Don't you fucking dare"

"Shut the fuck up Ethan" Nellie and Tara interrupted him at the same time.

"Okay." Anika said, "she's right though, I mean face the facts. If we're all suspects, you're all suspects." and when she finished we all sat there and took in the truth of what she just said.

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

Summary: It was supposed to be a private night with a dinner memorializing the one they lost but things don’t turn out as Jamie expected. Or rather, Jamie is still struggling with what happened in Woodsboro. 

Warnings: Jamie being sad, Wes being a concerned boyfriend, and Ethan trying to be a so-called friend to her. He’s a snake though. If you’ve seen Scream 6 then you know why that is.

Tonight was not going as Jamie expected. It was only supposed to be her, Wes, Sam, Tara, Mindy, and Chad.

Jamie at first wasn’t annoyed about Quinn being there since she lived with Sam and Tara in their apartment. That quickly changed once she joined them at the dinner table, setting up a plate for herself. Jamie hadn’t expected nor wanted Quinn to join the dinner they were having.

It was meant to be a private dinner to memorialize the friend the group of now six had lost at Woodsboro. Then Chad arrived with Ethan and Mindy brought Anika, further agitating Jamie. The original plans for tonight now felt like they were being forgotten about.

Wes not arriving yet because of his Computer Theory class gave Jamie the perfect excuse to go outfront of the apartment building. She told everyone she was going to wait for Wes but really it was for her to have a smoke.

Everyone back inside had seen Jamie take out her pack of cigarettes from her bag before storming outside. By now they were all aware that her smoking meant she was not okay, which lately had been a lot. Jamie even smoked more than Sam who’d become a stress smoker herself. Ever since moving to New York City for college though, Jamie had begun to stress smoke and angry smoke.

Right now it was a mixture of both.  

This is bullshit, Jamie thought irritably, already half way into her cigarette. She was mad that tonight’s plans weren’t going as she wanted. Fuck, she was mad at the world itself for how unfair it could be.

Liv’s supposed to be here with us, and Dewey is supposed to be alive. Fuck you, Amber. And fuck you too, Richie.  

Jamie turned her head at the sound of the building’s front door opening. She faced forward once more when she saw it was only Ethan. She was set on ignoring him but he made it impossible once coming into her view.

“You know that stuff will kill you.” Ethan commented, sheepish with a hint of concern that made Jamie nearly roll her eyes. She purposefully took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke while keeping her eyes on him.

Ethan made an awkward face, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He opened his mouth to say something but the redhead beat him to it.

“What are you doing out here, Ethan?” Jamie asked, looking completely over whatever else he wanted to say to her.

Ethan took on the appearance of a shy and worried friend. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Jamie took another drag from her cigarette, and then replied in a short tone. “I’m fine.” She had nothing against Ethan but she came outside for a reason. His presence only upset her more as it was a reminder that tonight hadn’t turned out the way she expected.

“You didn’t look like you were fine back inside.” Ethan brought up, closely watching her bonny features harden. Even when angry he was drawn to her like a moth to the flame.

“Dude, you’re not my boyfriend.” Jamie snapped at him, blue eyes blazing. “So stop pestering me.”

Although Ethan was aggravated he did well in not reacting to the ‘not my boyfriend’ comment. He only let out a sigh, maintaining the friend angle he’d been building with her. “No, but I am your friend.”

Jamie laughed dryly. “Friend, sure.”

Ethan kicked at his feet, frowning a little. “Well…we are, aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t even talk to you if it wasn’t for Chad always bringing you around.” Jamie declared bleakly, not holding back any harshness.

This time Ethan did react but he was crafty about it. He appeared more wounded than cross. It did the trick because Jamie’s iciness melted away. Her blue eyes lost some of its fierceness, softening a bit. It still wasn’t half the look she would give her loved ones, a look he wanted her to give him.  

“Fuck.” Jamie muttered, quickly putting out her cigarette. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s just been a hard day.” Everyday since the murders in Woodsboro had been a hard day for her, but especially today of all days.

Ethan used Jamie’s moment of vulnerability to get closer to her. He wasn’t sure if her not noticing him was either amusing or annoying. As the seconds of silence passed he began to lean toward the latter. She was barely paying any attention to him.

“Do you want me to leave?” His bashful question immediately made Jamie see him, just not in the way he wanted her to.  

Jamie wanted to say yes but then shut her mouth when she thought about it better. First of all, this wasn’t her apartment. It was Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s. She had no right to kick anyone out. Second of all, if Ethan left after having been out with Jamie that would’ve made things awkward for not only Anika but also Quinn. It wouldn’t have taken long for them to know the reason for why Ethan left.

As much as Jamie wanted tonight to go a certain way with only her close friends, she didn’t want to be a jerk to Quinn, Ethan, and Anika. She especially didn’t want to be mean to the last of the three because Anika was Mindy’s girlfriend. She’d seen with her very own eyes how head over heels her cousin was for Anika.

Jamie had never seen Mindy so serious in a relationship before. It wasn’t some college fling, it was the real deal and for that reason alone Jamie, although closed off, wasn’t cold with Anika. Not like she usually was everyone else outside her main friend group. Ethan for example was someone she hadn’t been the warmest to since Chad introduced him to her. Except for now, when she was trying to be less unpleasant.

“No, it’s fine.”

“You sure?” Ethan asked, even after hearing her assurance. He wanted to continue hearing her voice which had lost its regular sharpness.

Jamie nodded her head. “Yeah.” She faintly said, neither frowning or smiling.

Ethan was eager to reach for her hand that was twirling her lighter. But the moment, or what he perceived to be a moment, was interrupted by the arrival of Wes Hicks. Jamie’s actual boyfriend, much to his frustration.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Wes asked as he came up to them.

The twirling she’d been doing with her lighter came to a halt. Ethan saw a brightness in Jamie’s blue eyes when she looked at Wes. This brightness only ever appeared whenever Jamie was with Wes, and it really irked Ethan.  

Jamie said a quick hello before answering her boyfriend’s question. “Nothing, I just wanted to wait for you outside.”

Wes nodded his head and then looked at Ethan, eyes narrowing a bit. It had been a few months since meeting Chad’s roommate and he remained unsure about the curly haired college student.

Chad’s roommate presented himself to be on the shy side but something told Wes to keep an eye on him. Ethan was just a little too nice in his opinion, the sort of nice that seemed like it was an act.

Wes hadn’t told anyone he felt this way, not even Jamie. But his girlfriend had a way of shutting new people out, and even though Wes didn’t like that she’d become so distant, the lack of friendship between her and Wes was more than fine with him.

Too bad Ethan wasn’t giving up in trying to become friends with her. Wes only arrived but he could tell Ethan was trying yet again to get on Jamie’s good side. Not that many people were on it nowadays, but with Wes there Ethan could very much take a hike. He was going to ask him to leave without the boorishness but it seemed his sudden presence alone was enough for Ethan to get the hint.

“I guess I’ll see you guys back inside.” Ethan said mainly to Jamie. Even though he very much wanted to remain outside with her it wouldn’t look too if he did. For now he needed to keep up the image of the shy, nerdy, and concerned friend. He spared Wes a glance, one that didn’t show any of the hatred he felt for him. His face hardened once he closed the apartment building door behind him.

“Are you really okay?” Wes asked, feeling more comfortable now that it was just the two of them.

Jamie nodded her head, less annoyed with Wes than when Ethan asked her. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Wes saw the lighter in her hand, and the smell of cigarette wafted into his nose. He frowned in concern. “Did you go see Dr. Sullivan today?”

Jamie huffed, putting her lighter away. Dr. Sullivan was Jamie’s therapist. She’d been attending sessions since moving to New York City, and she never missed an appointment with her. “I did, Wes. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Wes softened his face at his girlfriend’s exasperation. “I just wanted to ask because of what today is. Maybe you didn’t feel like going.”

Jamie pursed her lips. “Well, I did go.”

Wes took hold of her hand. He smiled a little in relief when Jamie dropped her firm mask of disregard. “Do you want to go back inside now?”

“Maybe in a few.” Jamie answered, gently squeezing his hand. “Did you know Ethan and Anika were coming over?”

Wes shook his head. “No.” He answered honestly. If he had known ahead of time he would’ve told Jamie. He never minded Anika being around them, but Ethan was another story. It’s why he’d been surprised to find Ethan with her, but he figured Chad must’ve invited him. Chad was always trying to get Ethan to go out more. Wes would’ve preferred he stay in his dorm.

“You should head inside.” Jamie told her boyfriend, but made no move to let go of his hand.

Wes didn’t move either, opting to interlock his fingers with her own.  “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie blinked, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes. “You sure?”

Wes nodded his head, more than sure. “Yes.”

Jamie used her other hand to touch the heart necklace she wore. It was the matching friendship necklace Liv had given her years ago.

Liv had hers on when she’d been killed in Woodsboro.

Jamie had done a great job in not breaking down today, not during her session with Dr. Sullivan or even when her parents called her earlier. Except she couldn’t do it anymore. She finally broke, crying in the arms of her boyfriend.

Wes tried to remain strong in order to give Jamie as much comfort as possible while holding her. But he began to tear up as well at the memory of their friend. His sorrow couldn’t compare to Jamie’s because Liv had been her best friend…and today was her birthday.

Liv McKenzie would’ve turned nineteen today.