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#monster of the week
quiddling · 5 months
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my friend, the mothman
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nebulaeyedfish · 5 months
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Okay, so I guess I'm... sprinting at it, just like "AAAAH" with Beacon extended, and I think there's a moment just before we collide where Beacon sort of like, almost half-whispers like,
Doing some comics practice with Episode 11 of Amnesty :)
(Tag list: @swanofstorie @raise-me-up-take-me-up @imflyingfish)
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pinetreevillain · 28 days
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Behold! The park rangers for Lookout!
Left to right: Jake T. Urkey, Izaiah Jackson, Abaddon Moss, Keiko Cain, Donovan Barlowe, and Roy.
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vexwerewolf · 1 year
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Tabletop Roleplaying Systems as DHMIS Stills
Promethean: The Created
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Shadowrun
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Vampire: The Requiem
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Hunter: The Vigil
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Shadow of the Demon Lord
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Monster of the Week
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GURPS
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Dungeons & Dragons 5E/D&D One
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Starfinder
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Call of Cthulhu
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Eclipse Phase
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Delta Green
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Mage: The Awakening
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Don't Rest Your Head
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Cyberpunk RED
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Lancer
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FATE Core
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Literally Any Warhammer 40K TTRPG
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Transformers RPG
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Pathfinder
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autisticangus · 7 months
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ok im actually really curious now
obligatory please reblog for a bigger sample size ect ect
edit: by occasionally i just mean you started as player and have continued to both DM and play
extra edit idk how ppl are missing it: it u started as a player and continue to both play AND dm use the "started as a player and occassionally DM" and if u started as a dm and continue to both play and DM choose " first time playing was dm and i have dmd since" the point of this is to gauge how many peoples first game was as DM vs how many ppls first game was as a player and how many people continue to play only one specific role, never play that role again, or play both roles for any given amount of time
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poppiee-s · 2 years
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Finishing this show hurt
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awkwardtypo · 3 months
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I made custom card decks for my Monster of the Week game! I ended up laminating them so players can use permanent and dry-erase marker to note advancements, stats, etc. (You can erase Sharpie by writing over it with Expo marker.)
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I also have a larger, large-print set for a player with low vision (not pictured).
I'm working on making the Publisher file and PDF available as a template.
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Have you played MONSTER OF THE WEEK ?
By Michael Sands
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Most people don’t believe in monsters, but you know the truth. They’re real, and it’s your task to bring them down.
Monster of the Week is a standalone action-horror RPG for 3-5 people. Hunt high school beasties a la Buffy the Vampire Slayer, travel the country to bring down unnatural creatures like the Winchester brothers of Supernatural, or head up the government investigation like Mulder and Scully. This book contains everything you need to tackle Bigfoot, collar a chupacabra, and drive away demons.
A Powered by the Apocalypse game
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whereserpentswalk · 6 months
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Starting my motw campaign: "Hey, it might be cool to add political intrigue to the magical underworld."
Now, over a year in: "These are the factions that control the former united states."
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narsh-poptarts · 5 months
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SOMETIMES YOU MAKE A NEW CHARACTER FOR MONSTER OF THE WEEK AND YOU GET A LITTLE OBSESSED WITH THEM
This is Wesley Bernavelli (he/him) !!!! he's a Hex cowboy witch B))))) think anathema device or perhaps shrink and forcible from coraline, that brand of witchy
he's perhaps.... a little weird...
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quiddling · 6 months
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you just hear the wind, and you just see the stars above you. they are beautiful... and then they’re gone. (redraw of this one)
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caemidraws · 1 year
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[1812]
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pinetreevillain · 1 month
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*shyly posts my MoTW character*
This is my OC Abaddon he’s using the Spooky playbook :)
He’s a park ranger at a cryptid national park (created by @piwiikiwii )
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Its been a year since the first community build-a-threat, lets do another!
Thats right! I'm doing another community build a threat! And with poll choices going up to 12 now, we should be able to fit all options in one poll!
So, lets start!
This will last a day, so vote when you can!
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mrdraws · 4 months
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Milo and Balor's first meeting! Balor had every intention of killing Milo for witnessing one of his deals, but was impressed by their immediate "lick my ass" response to his threats, and decided to not only spare them, but stick around.
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spnhunter4life · 1 year
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Familiar
Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence
A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!
This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"
I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.
Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!
Masterlist
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I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.
After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.
So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.
I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.
Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another. 
Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.
I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards. 
When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often. 
Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.
He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since. 
About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.
“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.
We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.
“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found. 
“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.
“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered. 
“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.
“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”
“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”
“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.
“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”
“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.
“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.
“Bite me,” Sam answered.
“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.
The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.
“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.
“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked. 
“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise. 
“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.
“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.
“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”
“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”
“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.
“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”
“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.
Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.
~~~~~
The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.
“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.
“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”
“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”
“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.
“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.
“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”
I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.
“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.
“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.
I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening. 
He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-
I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala. 
“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream. 
“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.
Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done. 
“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.
“Connection?” He asked.
“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”
“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.
“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.
“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.
“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”
“Well… never,” he admitted.
“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”
“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.
“I was told they were,” I said. 
“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”
Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.
“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.
“What for?” He asked.
“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence? 
Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man. 
“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.
“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”
Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.
“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”
“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.
“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.
“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.
“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer. 
I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in. 
“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.
“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.
“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.
“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.
“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.
“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.
“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.
“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”
“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.
“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”
“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”
“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”
“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.
“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.
“How?”
“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”
“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.
“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”
The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.
~~~~~
Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated. 
“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.
“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”
“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”
“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.
“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected. 
“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.
“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”
“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested. 
“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later. 
Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.
“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.
We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.
Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.
“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.
The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.
The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.
Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.
I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first. 
After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.
“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”
“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.
“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again. 
“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”
“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.
“Hey, Sam. What did you find?” 
“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently. 
“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.
~~~~~
Sam’s POV
“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.
“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.
“Like what?” 
“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”
“So?”
“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”
“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.
“Why? Aren’t you together?”
“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”
“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.
“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”
Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.
“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.
~~~~~
Y/N’s POV
The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.
My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?
“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.
I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.
“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.
“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.
“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”
Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.
“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”
“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.
I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.
“He brought me in here?” I asked.
“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.
“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.
I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated. 
I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.
“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. 
“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.
“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.
“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”
He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.
“What gave me away?” He asked casually.
“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times. 
“Like?” 
“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.
“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.
I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”
My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly. 
He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.
“Where is Dean?” I demanded.
“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?
“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”
“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”
I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.
“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”
“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”
His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.
“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.
“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.” 
I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly. 
“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.” 
I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.
“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.
“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.
He smiled and kept ignoring me.
“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”
“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.
“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.
“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head. 
“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder? 
I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.
“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”
“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”
“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”
I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to. 
“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”
“Right before you kill me, you mean?”
“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.
“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.
I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.
I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.
The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.
“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.
“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.
“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”
Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.
“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”
“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.
“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.
“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.
“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.
“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.
“Was?” Sam questioned.
“It’s dead,” I said.
“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”
“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.
“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”
“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.
“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”
“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.
Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.
Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.
“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.
“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”
“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.
“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.
“Why?” I wondered.
“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.
“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”
I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.
~~~~~
An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.
“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”
“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.
“He told you?” He asked, surprised.
“In way too much detail,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment.
“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?” 
“The what?” I asked.
“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”
My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.
“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.” 
Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.
“Y/N… he didn’t?”
“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”
Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“So why did he go after you?”
I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.
“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”
“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.
“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.
“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”
I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.
“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion. 
I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.
“Y/N.”
More silence.
“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.
“You know you’re not,” I told him.
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.
“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”
“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”
“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.
“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”
“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.
“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”
“That’s all I ask.”
After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.
Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.
“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.
“A little better,” I told him. 
“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”
He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me. 
“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face. 
“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”
“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.
Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.
A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.
Chapter 2
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