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tw-episodereactions · 8 months

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Teen Wolf 1x12

Ah, yes, Chris honking at Scott instead of aiming a weapon at him is totally in character. We shall honk to warn this creature off, despite the fact that we’ve been stalking him for eleven episodes.

Lol, Peter just walks off like Stiles will do exactly as he’s told. Please don’t have Stiles do exactly as he’s told. Have him text Jackson and Danny to track down Scott’s cell and then tell Scott about it.

See? The woods are like two steps away from the school and it would have been a lot harder for the police and Argent’s to track Derek in the woods than on the streets in that one episode.

Allison’s reaction after Scott runs is approximately forty seconds long, some slow motion, mostly in close up with one long shot.

Scott’s reaction is approximately forty seconds long, some slow motion, mostly in long shot with one close up that almost immediately dollies back to a long shot.

And the one close up is on the scream instead of the sobbing.

Why do they keep making these choices to de-emphasize Scott’s pain/anguish/trauma? Like, it’s weird, right? It’s not just me?

Like, from the beginning they’ve been telling this story about how being treated like a monster doesn’t make you one. Pretty much every character, with the exceptions of Allison, Melissa, and Deaton have treated Scott like a monster, a pawn, a tool, a thing to be used. Some to more extent than others, but even Stiles has treated Scott like that on several occasions.

And the story seems to be trying to show us at every turn how Scott refuses to be used. Refuses at every turn to cast aside his humanity and descend into a mindless, angry thing that the Hales want him to be and the Argents expect him to be. The storyline, the dialogue, the acting all support this. But half the time the shots don’t, and it’s driving me nuts, honestly.

Does Jackson actually care about Lydia now too? My headcanon where he got empathic bleed from Scott is holding up, I see.

Oh. Menstruation jokes about a teenage girl from a grown man is definitely not gross and creepy and demeaning. I guess that’s one characterization they haven’t screwed up yet.

Okay, so, 1) it’s interesting that Chris recognized what Kate was doing but didn’t stop it, 2) it’s interesting that Kate was the one to volunteer to come instead of Chris bringing her in like I thought, and 3) Chris, buddy. You fucking chose to try to run Scott over and have him turn in front of your daughter, Kate wasn’t even there. Take ownership of your own fucking actions, my dude.

Lol, Kate, you’re usually a better liar than that. ALSO, I still haven’t heard how the school janitor was connected so until we do he’s an innocent victim.

And now we also know that Kate’s actions with the fire either weren’t sanctioned by Chris - most likely - or weren’t sanctioned within the hunting community at all. I’m still trying to figure out the hierarchy of the hunters, and how big the family/network is.

Now that Allison is in the know maybe we’ll learn more, but even with two born werewolves we’ve learned shit about that culture so I’m not holding my breath.

It makes no sense that he’s sending Kate with Allison unless he just wants Kate out of the way. Mrs. Argent would seem like a better choice in several respects, not the least of which she hasn’t been going behind Chris’ back with Allison already. Also, bro, Kate ain’t exactly the comforting type and your kid needs comfort right now.

Okay, so her mother clearly isn’t the comforting type either. Are we saying that Allison get her compassion from Chris? Oh boy.

They keep mentioning the ‘moral code’ they have, but not giving us details. I mean, it’s apparent that Kate doesn’t follow it, and clearly others are willing to bend it. But even the “good” ones like Chris still try to rile up werewolves into going past a specific line in the sand.

Hunters are just a bunch of cops, huh? No accountability, protect their own over anyone else, instigate werewolves to violence so that they can feel justified in killing them.

So I guess he did steal Jennifer’s car. Still doesn’t make sense how he and Derek got to the school before Stiles when they presumably left at least ten minutes after him, but whatever. Also, did Derek kill the nurse when he hit her in the face? There was definitely a lot of blood. And this now makes (at least) two people not associated with the fire that got murdered.

Scott going to the vet is a good fucking call and he should have done it sooner. He should, perhaps, actually call Deaton though because he’s like the only one who’s been both compassionate enough and capable enough to help you.

So, like, Allison doesn’t know who to believe, and I get that. Her family says they love her, but they’ve been lying to her. Scott says he loves her but he’s been lying to her. It’s hard to figure out who to trust.

Out of curiosity, though. How is Scott able to get past the Mountain Ash? Is it just because he’s got a key to the back, and never goes out the front? Did it only get added after Deaton was kidnapped by Derek or maybe it only works on Alphas? So many questions!

Hey, look, we actually got close up on Scott’s grief that actually lasted about the same amount of time as someone else’s! It can be done!

Well, I see the family resemblance between Derek and Peter now.

Oh. Hey. A cop being shitty? Weird. Like, fuck, dude, Jackson’s a goddamn asshole, but a) you don’t know anything about that, b) he’s a fucking minor, and c) you have no idea what the fuck happened or how traumatized he might have been. And, like, none of the other cops with him are pulling him back? Jesus Christ.

Aside from how it makes sense cause cops are just generally shitty, why the fuck would he act like that about two kids we’ve never really seen him interact with? Either he’s got something against Jackson or he’s weirdly protective over Lydia and both of those options creep me out a little.

No, no, don’t bother apologizing to the kid you manhandled for no reason.

“Only the responsible ones,” Peter says, ignoring the dead body literally underneath where Stiles is typing. And the janitor. Can’t forget that guy.

Stiles trying to protect Scott is nice, if futile.

Scott gets his terrible security protocols from his mother. But at least his was passively bad, while hers was actively bad. I still can’t believe she just let Jackson use her computer like that.

Also, his is not, you know, illegal criminally or civilly with criminal consequences that could include termination, up to $50,000 in fines, and a prison sentence.

I’m sorry, but did this fucking show give us a guy who not only knows about werewolves but feels totally secure standing up to one and subsequently getting the werewolf to stand down, which our main character witnessed, and then not have the main character, like, go to him for help? Just have him go there for refuge?

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, GIVE ME DEATON.

Oh, hey. Scott howling again. I hope this time works better than last time. I can kind of understand why this was not his first choice of things to try given his previous experience.

But, uh, are you telling me Peter didn’t hear that and won’t also come running? Or that Peter didn’t think to try that instead of the whole phone thing? Or, like, now that apparently Derek is his beta, Peter can’t track him that way like he’s basically done to Scott during this whole show?

I feel like the phone thing was put in there specifically as a way to make Stiles useful. Especially since we haven’t seen this skill set from him before.

FYI, that longitude/latitude puts you in Antarctica.

Lol, so we specifically made a comment about how the service might not work in a parking garage and popped out the mifi, but we’re totally able to bypass that same issue to get the gps coordinates from a phone that’s underground. Sure, Jan.

Okay, so at least Peter did hear the howl. And you know what? I’ll accept that Scott outsmarted him because he��s done it several times already. The weird part is that you’d think Peter would be the one more in touch with the werewolf instinct and Scott would be the one more apt to use technology, but we’re getting the reverse.

If I had any faith in these folks, I’d have to wonder if that was on purpose. Like, has modern werewolf culture lost itself to the violence and lost all connection to its proto culture? Not all werewolf myths cast them as monstrous and bad, particularly Irish and Scottish folklore have them as helpful protectors. Scott McCall.

Ummm, why is Allison at the hospital? Did she hear Jackson’s voicemail and insist on coming? Did Kate just dump her somewhere and then she heard what happened to Lydia?

I actually really like the super quick flashes of the bloody room and Lydia writhing. That was very effective.

Okay, so Kate’s using this to manipulate Allison some more. Gotcha. Chris, you’re dumb for letting her be under Kate’s influence some more.

Stiles, why would you even ask that?

Oh. Okay. So we’re good with biting people of color and women and turning them without asking, but you’re gonna ask the white kid if he wants it. Why do I, once again, feel like that’s social commentary that they didn’t actually intend to make, but is so spot on it’s painful?

Also, is this the first episode where they’ve explained that the bite doesn’t always take, and that it’s not due to the intent of the one biting, but the biology (?) of the one being bitten?

That still doesn’t explain why Peter didn’t bite more people when Scott balked. Peter clearly doesn’t mind sacrificing people when convenient.

Peter is really much better at manipulation than Derek was. He and Kate are cut from the same cloth.

Part of me thinks that Stiles was lying because we’ve seen him be envious of Scott. The other part of me knows that Peter’s a lying liar who lies and no one should ever trust him.

The stark fucking difference between how the Sheriff treated Jackson versus how he’s treating Stiles.

I feel like that phone battery would have died by now. I have zero memory of how good phone batteries were 13 years ago though.

Wait, did this fucking bozo not hear Derek roaring? Dumbass.

Why does the lighting on the walls of this place always look like the light is reflecting off water but there’s no sound of water when they walk. I noticed it in the last episode too. Very distracting.

Why the fuck did Stiles bring up Derek? First of all, he knows his dad knows that because he got his dad drunk and his dad told him he knows that. Second, unless he’s planning on confessing everything and getting the police to roll up to Derek’s place, then saying that right now is incredibly dumb.

Holy shit! They did it to someone other than Scott this time! Made him look dumb so that someone else could have a snappy comeback! Why is this thing that these writers do? I mean, other than them being bad at their jobs.

I honestly can’t remember, does Stiles know that Allison got the necklace from her aunt? Also, like, he doesn’t even describe it, but Stiles somehow puts it together, lol.

“You really want to talk about this right now?” Says the guy who has, of course, been super forthcoming with Scott about werewolves this whole time. Who literally didn’t just switch sides to help Peter in a way that left Scott traumatized and writhing half naked on a locker room floor. This guy who has totally never made Scott’s life actively worse or hurt him almost every single time they met.

Yeah, Fuckface, he wants to talk about this now and with good reason.

Derek’s practically his own movie theater with how much he’s projecting on all these kids.

Btw, I am taking this as confirmation that Derek had, in fact, switched sides and was not actually playing along to still try to stop Peter. Which means that he’s a trash fire of a human being who has currently done only two good things. Possibly ever.

Weren’t there just police all over the hospital? I feel like someone should maybe notice a group of armed men terrorizing two high school kids after what happened to Lydia.

Scott’s sad little, “Just say you’ll help and I’ll unlock your other…” is so funny because, like, even if Derek said it Scott was resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be telling the truth, but would unlock him anyway.

Chris’ friend tried to kill him, huh? Was it because he was surrounded by people he knew wanted to kill him? Was it because he was hurt and in pain and just needed to learn how to control it? Like, I feel like there were other ways you could have handled that, Chris. If all you’ve got is a gun, every problem looks like a target, I guess.

I don’t buy that Kate and Allison got there before Peter. He’s there somewhere.

Why didn’t they shoot the flashbulb one first? It’s unnecessarily cruel, which is Kate’s M.O. but it still feels weird that Allison would go along with it.

Thank you, I guess for at least saying that Allison wasn’t willing to go along with killing. But, like, she knows Derek was being tortured. What did she think was going to happen if they did just capture Scott?

Lol. Okay, sure. Kate and Allison and Chris all got there before Peter.

“I did what I was told to do.”

Huh. I’m going to be real with you, I assumed that Kate would bust out with her warped views on why they need to die and that’s it’s a good thing and they’re just animals. I wasn’t expecting someone pulling her strings. I mean, I guess she could be lying, but why?

It makes way more sense that Chris is a naive idiot, honestly, than to think there wasn’t corruption in the hunters, they’re cops.

Lol, Chris, you fucking shot that same kid three months ago with no proof he’d spilled human blood. Bud, leg to stand on? You ain’t really got one.

Although good to know at least part of their code.

Wait, are these bullets even wolfsbane? Will normal bullets even kill werewolves? Derek was basically fisted through his chest and survived, so I guess I assumed they were more lethal than regular bullets.

We hunt those who hunt us. Well that’s definitely not the truth. Not if they were there the when Laura Hale died because she was the first victim and clearly a werewolf.

Peter did you have to succumb to the drama of the creaking door? Really? You couldn’t have just quietly launched yourself at Kate and dragged her off before anyone could get off a shot?

Also, where the fuck are Chris’ men who were at the hospital with them? Why did Chris not call for backup en route since apparently Stiles gave him the location. Sloppy work.

I understand that you’ve loved her your whole life Allison, but you just found out that she killed a bunch of innocent people including children and she almost killed the boy you said you loved right in front of you. I feel like running after her is the wrong choice.

Perhaps checking on your father or grabbing back the weapon you lost are better first choices.

You know what? I’m fine with that. Kate dying in that house by Peter’s hand works for me.

I am shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on here.

The shaky cam, the low light, and the fact that all three of them are wearing black leather jackets is not helping me figure out what’s happening in this fight.

Like, I don’t want to be reductionist and go for the simple metaphors, but for symmetry Scott should be in the red hoodie, Derek should only be wearing his light gray/dirty white shirt to show how he’s nominally fighting the good fight here even if he’s still not a good guy, and Peter should be in dark or colors indistinguishable from black.

Or they could have just used some more damn lighting, that’s an option too, I guess.

Well, I guess the cgi werewolf will theoretically make it a little easier to tell who’s who.

Hey, Stiles and Jackson. Good of you guys to show up. What kept you?

Wow, the practical effects for the Alpha are jarringly better than the cgi. Should’ve gone with as many practical effects as possible. Which is honestly so true for most things.

Oh. I guess they stopped by the chemistry room first. Lol.

Well. This is actually a very good strategy, Stiles. I can’t imagine anyone would react well to being lit on fire, but Peter’s going to react worse than most. Out of idle curiosity, why did you only make two?

I feel like, keep shooting is also an option here?

Look, Allison, girl. I get that you understandably believe Scott was telling the truth now, but, uh. If I were Scott I’d push you away until we could talk shit over because you totally let your aunt almost kill me in cold blood.

I get it’s a teen show, which means kissing instead of talking, but still. Not really appropriate after you watched your aunt get murdered and all y’all tried to burn a man to death.

“Because I love you,” is a bad answer.

How about because both you and my family lied to me and I didn’t know who to trust, so I trusted them because they’re my family and I’ve only known you for three months. But Kate showed that my trust in her was misplaced, and you showed that my trust in you wasn’t, and I’m sorry I almost got you killed.

Oh. Hey, Peter wasn’t all the way dead. We were all just letting him suffer and possibly heal up then? That’s a choice, I guess.

Now, big question time. Is Derek going to let Scott try to kill Peter to see if it will actually reverse the change or is he going to take his revenge for Peter killing Laura and screw Scott over forever? Hmmm, based on almost all of Derek’s previous behavior, I’m stumped.

I wonder if the Argent’s knew about that possible cure. I wonder if a hunter getting turned and killing their Alpha is how they found out that it was a possibility in the first place. Or maybe a hunter started it as a rumor to try to get betas to kill their Alphas.

This just in, Derek Hale remains a garbage fire of a human being. This is my shocked face.

The Sheriff just out here touching evidence with his bare hands.

I love how in the episode where they specifically say that you either turn or die from the bite that immediately gets disproven. Hey, quick question: does anyone actually know anything about werewolves? Maybe that’s why we’re not getting any details. None of the writers fucking know anything either.

Ugh, Jackson’s back again. If Derek turns him, he’ll be the stupidest goddamn man alive. Which means he’s going to.

Any bets that Jackson being turned will somehow make him more scared than less?

Aaaand we’ve got more hunters coming. Is it like a tribunal because the Argent’s fucked up? Is it the person pulling Kate’s strings, who knows!

Okay, so, here’s the thing. The story structure is killing me here. Too much is happening after the climax. We didn’t need the Sheriff finding Kate, that should’ve been cut. It gave us no knew information and that storyline was wrapped up again with the newspaper article like 30 seconds later.

We didn’t actually need to find out about Lydia not being a werewolf and possibly being something else. There was already a cliffhanger about her, we didn’t need to resolve that cliffhanger only to immediately have a new one but with less tension.

This should have ended with just the Jackson & Derek scene to theoretically wrap up that storyline, and the Argent scene - which gave us new information - transitioning to Scott and Allison cuddling under the moon - which is the resolution.

Season One Thoughts

This is a story about not becoming a monster. Kate was monstrous because she was ‘just following orders.’ Peter and Derek and even Jackson to an extent were monstrous because they let their pain selfishly consume them and then took it out on everyone else. Chris is perhaps the least monstrous because while he clearly refused to see what was in front of him for years, when there was nothing else to see but the truth, he did step up. Scott is, of course, the monster who refused to be monstrous.

I think Scott is a refreshing character. He’s a lead of color in a teen show, which is incredibly rare. He’s a teenager who does dumb teenager things and makes mistakes, but tries so hard to do the right thing. He’s stubborn and kind, and those are shown as both strengths and weaknesses, which I like. He clearly takes after his mother a whole bunch, and they have a sweet relationship.

I thought Allison and Stiles were good, complex characters, but there were certainly some iffy fucking characterizations choices for Stiles at the beginning of the season and some iffy fucking mischaracterizations with Allison at the end.

And finally, with my whole chest, DEATON IS MY FAVORITE. I want to know literally everything about him and I hope so very much that he gets a chance to be the mentor that Scott deserves.

#teen wolf #scott mccall #allison argent #derek hale #episode reaction #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #lydia martin #chris argent #alan deaton #peter hale #1x12 #kate argent

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nocturnalswarehouse · 1 year

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Tag game!

I was tagged by @blossom-adventures and @thequeenofthewinter :)

3 Ships:

I'm going to delve away from Skyrim here because my procrastination response if I don't want to be productive around my place, is to immerse myself in as much media as possible. So an obvious one is OC/Brynjolf. Otherwise, Adi would not exist XD my others are OC (or reader)/Jacob Frye because I'm still hyperfixating on AC Syndicate. I also recently finally started Jane the Virgin, and I'm a slut for Jane/Rafael

1st Ever Ship:

I was but a young child, barely able to comprehend reading when my first ever a ship came to be. I shit you not. I think I was 5. It was Blue/Magenta in Blue's Clues. I found out a couple years ago was also my first gay ship, and I am HERE for it.

Last Song:

Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

Last Movie:

I watched one in my filmmaking class by a local director who created a film about a Ukrainian woman who immigrated to modern-day Winnipeg. Do I remember the title? Nope. Do I want to? Nope.

This movie was filmed back in like,,, 2019 I believe, is what he said and released like last year. It's two hours and could've been easily cut down to one. Very slow, almost too slow. I liked a lot of the shots. It was interesting to watch a film where only two characters - who were in there briefly - spoke English.

So there are good things about it, but it definitely could've been way better. I felt like the writing was almost too dry, and the director didn't give us any context as to what the plot was or any warnings that were needed (nudity and a certain subject related to nudity that is unpleasant to watch, to put it nicely).

I just think we should keep cishet white north American men away from creating films with that kind of subject because they don't,,, get it. Granted, neither do I but I do have an entire family of immigrants.

Currently Reading:

Well, it was my personality psych textbook, but no more! I hope to finish @thequeenofthewinter's fic because I'm behind due to school, and after that? Well, when the term starts, one of the texts for one of my classes is "The Handmaid's Tale," and I'm VERY excited to read it.

Currently Watching:

Too many things at once.

Jane the Virgin

Wednesday (I get the hype, I have critiques, but imma keep them to myself because it's very nitpicky and a bit pretentious)

RuPaul's Drag Race S14 (I'm on episode 7)

Canada's Drag Race S2 (I'm on episode 4)

The Witcher (started it in September, had a depressive episode)

Slow rewatch of Avatar: The Last Airbender because I'm following the podcast recaps and discussions

Slow rewatch of Kim Possible because I got bored and switched to the Witcher (it's great to watch after a long shift at work, though)

Wizards of Waverly Place (helped me through the depressive episode. Downside? I've seen it so many times the show is fully memorized)

Hunters on Amazon Prime (They re-edited the show to take out the scenes that got a lot of negative press, and I'm mad, so I stopped because they also re-edited my favourite scene in the entire show)

Teen Wolf (gotta prep for the movie coming out in 2023)

Okay yeah, so my fam and I have a lot of streaming services. Welcome to my Dad, and I are movie buffs

Currently Consuming:

Water. I'm pulling an all-nighter because I gotta be at the airport in two and a half hours, so if I sleep I will miss my flight. Gotta stay hydrated!

Currently Craving:

Tacos from a place back home, and lemonade from a pop-up lemonade stand that ends up at every big event in my city back home and if I can convince my parents I'll be able to get one and won't have to wait until Stampede in July next year. It's the best damn lemonade I've ever had.

The specific tacos I'm craving are the best damn fast-food tacos I've ever had, but I've definitely had better. My sister worked at a Mexican restaurant specializing in tacos that a family member owns, for god's sake. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, I also crave those. I think I just want tacos.

I can't really think of anyone to tag (the main person I would've tagged, tagged me first XD), so I pass this on to anyone that wants to do it :)

#thanks for the tag!#tag game #this was fun!#also sorry I tend to ramble lol

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atomic-thomas · 1 month

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(Fake ASMR Commission) Your Girlfriend Talks About Musous [Monster Hunter Frontier Roleplay]

_______________________________________________

*just so you know, Musou is pronounced [Moo-So]*

“Damnit, come on! What do you mean I didn’t parry that? My positioning was perfect. Sigh…”

*door opening sound*

“Oh, hey babe. Sorry, I’m just… A bit mad right now.”

…

“What am I playing. Are you sure you want me to explain? You probably wouldn’t understand any of it.”

…

“Okay, fair. Everyone wants to learn new things. Nothing wrong with being curious. You really don’t mind if I talk your ear off for a bit? It’s a lot of information to go over.”

…

“You have nothing better to do. Well, have a seat then. Because I have a lot to talk about.”

“I’m playing Monster Hunter Frontier. It’s a really old Japanese MMO that released in 2007. It’s servers shut down in 2019, but thanks to the efforts of dedicated fans, you can still download & play the game for free on PC using Private Servers. It no longer receives updates, but hey. 12 Years of content updates all the way up to the game’s closing date is a lot to chew through for new players who are just starting out. It even has an English Patch so you can actually read important text.”

“The monster I was just hunting was… A Musou.”

…

“No, not Moose, silly~”

“Musous are the game’s most challenging monsters. The absolute pinnacle of difficulty. They’re some of the hardest bosses you’ll ever fight in any video game. And… I’ve been trying to solo them.”

…

“Well, here’s the thing. Musous weren’t actually meant to be soloed. They were designed around the idea that a full team of decked out meta players would take them on. But if you’re crazy enough, you can beat them alone. It’s entirely possible. I’ll set the stage for just how astronomically difficult these monsters are.”

“Musous need to be slain in 10 minutes. Normally, most quests in the game give you 50 minutes which is way more than enough time to do anything. But Musous demand that you slay them in under 10. And to make matters worse, they have a huge amount of health. Far more than most other monsters in the game.”

“They have extremely fast & lethal attacks. They can lock down & combo hunters. Some attacks just outright one-shot you. And often times, their attacks cover a large portion of the area you fight them in meaning that if you don’t parry, i-frame or positioning yourself perfectly, you’re likely just gonna die instantly.”

…

“Crazy, right? With a team, you at least have some room for error. You can sometimes get hit & survive, someone can play support & there’s less pressure to do most of the damage yourself since it’s a group effort.”

“But if you’re alone, you have no such luxuries. Generally speaking, in order to solo a Musou, you need to use a skill called Adrenaline. This requires you to set yourself at a very low amount of HP using a specific Bento Meal or charm. When you’re at this low HP amount, Adrenaline activates & you gain a permanent 50% boost to your damage output which is crucial.”

“The downside to running such low HP is that everything one-shots you. You literally need to play perfectly. You need to maintain damage on the monster to slay it in time… And you can’t get hit even once. Anything less than perfection won’t cut it. I really can’t express enough just how insanely hard it is.”

…

“Yeah, I’ve soloed most of the Musous. I’m crazy enough to do it. But I’m still struggling with some of them. I can explain what the Musous are if you want.”

…

“Alright, well… Keep those ears perked up because I’m gonna talk about the Musous themselves.”

“Now the funny thing about some of these Musous is that… A few of them released in an earlier age of the game’s power creep. So these ones in particular are ironically pretty easy. Assuming you’re using the game’s modern power creep of course. We have Zenith Gear & Extreme Style which trivialize these earlier Musous’ difficulty.”

“Starving Deviljho [Devil-Joe] was the first Musou ever released &… It’s a joke nowadays. You don’t even need Adrenaline. It’s health & damage output are low. It’s slow & lumbering. You can play sloppily & still win. I can’t even really call it a Musou in earnest. It doesn’t feel like one.”

“Thirsty Pariapuria [Par-Eee-Uh-Pur-Eee-Uh] is… I guess… Kinda slightly difficult just because it’s annoying & can inflict so many different status conditions. But just like Deviljho, it’s very weak & can be slain pretty easily overall.”

“Mysterious Mi Ru [Me-Roo] is definitely the hardest of the Musous that most people consider to be in the easy category. It has a decent amount of health & some pretty dangerous attacks with weird timings. It can also inflict Crystal Blight which totally ruins you. But any reasonably skilled player can slay it after just a handful of attempts. It’s really not that bad.”

“And finally, to cap off the category of easy Musous, there’s Ruler Guanzorumu [Guan-Zor-Ooo-Moo]. This is by far the easiest Musou. It’s extremely slow, laughably lumbering, has incredibly low health & generally just doesn’t really do any significant damage. It even has a combo attack that’s supposed to kill you from full health, but you can actually survive it if you have Zenith Gear. It’s really sad. It’s a shame to because the fight itself is a fantastic spectacle. And the music is so epic! Really makes me wish the fight was harder.”

…

“Yeah, those are all four of the easy Musous. Now I’ll start talking about the Musous that actually require serious effort. There’s six of them.”

“The first one is Howling Zinogre [Zin-Oh-Grr]. Now here’s the funny thing about this particular Musou. It was actually the 2nd Musou ever released during the previous age of power creep. So you might be wondering how it could possibly be difficult. Well, thing is… The devs made it way too strong. It’s an overtuned Musou that was so overpowered on release that many players complained about it being unreasonably too hard. No team was able to slay it within the first 24 hours of release.”

“Even with modern power creep, it’s still a hefty challenge. Fast, aggressive attacks… Lightning dashes that can paralyze you into guaranteed deaths… Massive AoE attacks… It’s just a crazy Musou. Took me a good while before I got my solo clear.”

“The next one is Blitzkrieg Bogabadorumu [Boe-Guh-Bad-Oh-Roo-Moo]. This Musou is… Also kinda funny. It’s moveset isn’t actually the hard thing about it. It’s extremely slow & it’s honestly very easy to avoid getting hit. The problem is that it has a gargantuan amount of health. 1.2 Million HP to be exact. So if you’re trying to slay it alone, the difficulty isn’t the act of fighting it, but rather… Just getting the job done in time. 10 Minutes to burn through 1.2 Million HP all by yourself is… Pretty ridiculous. It almost feels like it was designed around Adrenaline because you get one-shotted at full health anyway. I have yet to solo this one. Not because it’s hard, but just because you have so little time to get through so much health. I usually end up timeout failing rather than dying to it.”

“Next up is Blinking Nargacuga [Nar-Guh-Coo-Guh]. This Musou is all about confounding you with speed. So much speed. It has super fast spin attacks, claw swipes, tails slams that shoot out poison spikes… And most dangerously, it has dash attacks that leave behind trails of razor wind that you lock you in place & deplete your health to zero. It took quite a lot of attempts before I got the solo down. Learning the fight is all about careful positioning, an attentive eye & a lot of patience. However, if you play well, it gets knocked down quite a bit giving you a lot of openings to attack. It’s certainly tricky, but it’s far from the hardest Musou. In fact… Weirdly… I think it’s actually somewhat harder in multiplayer because it’s attacks are less focused & harder to read. Especially if it gets you near a wall. That kind of poor positioning is a recipe for disaster.”

“Next is Sparkling Zerureusu [Zair-Roo-Ree-Ooo-Sue]. This was actually the very last monster ever added to the game before shutdown. But it’s not the hardest Musou. In fact, it’s actually kind of easy… Somewhat. Sure, you still need to use Adrenaline & play perfectly, but it’s attacks are incredibly fair. Very easy to read & well-telegraphed. It’s attacks consist of dazzling bursts of scarlet light. It’s very pretty & the fight itself is overall quite simple. Especially if you use Magnet Spike. Once you learn the fight, you can really bully it with that weapon. It didn’t take long for me to get the solo clear.”

“Next is a real doozy of a Musou. Arrogant Duremudira [Dur-Ray-Muh-Deer-Uh]. This one is… Yikes. Just yikes. It’s probably the worst Musou in terms of game design. It has sped up animations & janky hitboxes. Combine that with so many extremely brutal attacks & weirdly timed electrical explosions & you’ve got yourself a nasty hellish fight. It spams laser beams from several different angles, constantly stumbles hunters with tremors & is generally just an absolute terror to face. I haven’t even gotten close to soloing it yet. And to be honest… I may never.”

“And now… The Musou that I’ve been saving for last… Burning Freezing Eruzerion [Air-Roo-Zair-Eee-On]. This Musou is largely considered to be the absolute hardest challenge in the entire Monster Hunter franchise. It has a staggering one million HP & a plethora of fast, layered & complex attacks. This Musou really has it all. Massive explosions, fire & ice attacks that are rapidly spread over most of the arena, moves that require you to position quickly & carefully… The list goes on. And even if you play perfectly, you still need at least some luck to succeed.”

“It’s so fast… So dangerous… You need to pay so much attention to every little detail of the fight. And even the tiniest mistake will get you punished with instant death. I really can’t express enough just how ridiculous it is. After release, it took 8 weeks for the first team clear to be achieved & a whopping 9 months for the first solo clear.”

…

“Yes, this is the Musou I was fighting when you walked in. I’m trying to solo it.”

…

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll succeed… Eventually… After a thousand more attempts or something.”

…

“I know I don’t need to do it. I don’t really earn anything. But it would be so satisfying, you know? Just the pride & bragging rights of having soloed the critically acclaimed hardest monster ever.”

…

“Of course I’m recording every attempt. If I’m gonna make the claim, I need video proof.”

…

“Sure babe. You can start your own save file if you really want. I need to take a break anyway. Soloing Musous really takes a lot out of a person. I’m warning you though… Monster Hunter Frontier is a pretty hard game.”

…

“You relish the challenge. Oooh~ How exciting. I look forward to seeing how you do.”

_______________________________________________

THE END

#Fake ASMR #Monster Hunter #Monster Hunter Frontier

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meganlpie · 3 years

Text

Courting, Not Dating

Based on this request: Okay so the last anon you had inspired this one sort of. Could I request a one shot where Crowley realizes he’s in love with y/n and being a man of the 1600s instead of a modern relationship (people are so casual nowadays about relationships imo) he’s all old school and proper and wishes to court her. ((In case you didn’t know, there’s a HUGE difference between dating and courting a woman. Not a lot of people realize there’s a difference.)) To specify (according to google) dating can end any number of ways, whereas when you court someone the end goal is marriage. Point blank, period. Ultimately Crowley wishes eventually for Y/N to be his queen.

Here you are! Unfortunately, SPN characters do not belong to me. They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: Fluff-ish, mostly. Crowley is a warning all his own. One saucy line of dialogue.

Pairings: Crowley x fem!reader

When the realization that he loved you hit Crowley, he had no idea how to handle it at first. He was a demon. Demons didn't love. At least, not as far as he knew. And they certainly didn't fall in love with hunters, or those who researched for hunters. Yet, here he was, madly in love with you and with no clue what to do about it. The one thing he did know was that he did not want to approach it lightly. You deserved better.

Crowley was never one to do things halfway and he knew that what he felt for you was a once in a lifetime(or rather afterlife time) thing. He didn't want to waste it away with casual dating. The modern approach was not what you deserved. He wanted to, dare he say it, court you. Yes that was it. His end goal. Whenever he thought about the two of you together, it ended the same way. With you on a throne beside his in Hell as his queen.

His mind began thinking of ways that he could show you exactly how he felt. By what he knew about you, which was quite a lot, he knew he needed to start simple before he revealed his true intentions. That thought made him smile to himself before he pulled out his phone to put his plan into motion.

*time skip*

Your POV

You were walking into the bunker from the garage, humming a little tune when you heard Dean call out to you. Brows furrowed, you entered the building you called home with the Winchesters and Castiel. Your arms were full of grocery bags, so when you saw Dean, you motioned for him to follow you to the kitchen. Instead, he took the bags and said, "Sam's waiting for you in the library. You got something today."

Dean walked away leaving you confused. You shook your head and went to the library only to find Sam sitting at one of the tables staring at a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Are those for me?" you asked with a smile, "Sam you shouldn't have." He shook his head. "I didn't." You gave a hum of confusion then walked closer to see that there was a card.

You couldn’t believe your eyes when you read it. "They're from Crowley…" You felt a little tug in your heart. Crowley had taken time to send you flowers. It was so sweet, but why? Why would he take time out of his schedule to send you flowers? You had no clue, but you weren't going to reject them. It wasn't often you got to see that side of the King of Hell. You quickly grabbed your phone and shot off a text to thank him. You had no idea that those flowers were only the beginning.

Every other day for the next few weeks, you found another little gift from Crowley. Flowers, chocolates(and other candies), desserts from your favorite bakery, stuffed toys, even jewelry kept appearing in the bunker, all addressed to you. You always thanked Crowley for sending them and, to your surprise, he responded every single time. It felt…nice to have the attention of someone like Crowley, but you were getting more and more confused by the day. It wasn't until Crowley's latest gift, an extremely expensive dress along with more jewelry, came that you finally asked what was happening.

Crowley appeared in the bunker not two minutes after you called him. You were waiting with the Winchester. Crowley's eyes softened when they landed on you. You were wearing the charm bracelet he'd sent. When Crowley saw the look on your face, however, he frowned.

"Something wrong, kitten?" You bit your lip and shook your head, but you still looked upset about something. "Crowley, why? Why all the gifts? The attention? I'm flattered, I am. Grateful, even! But I don't understand. What do you get out of this? I-I don't like the idea of you toying with me."

In an instant, Crowley grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him and away from the brothers. "I assure you, pet, I am not toying with you. I suppose I tried too hard to make my affections clear." Your eyes widened and Dean began sputtering out something behind you. Before he could speak, you did. "Affections?"

"Darling, I'm a demon. Surely you didn't expect me to just come out and say how I feel for you. I decided you deserved better than words. I wanted to show you my intentions." You cocked your head to the side, making him laugh. "I intend to court you, if you'll let me."

"Are we in some kind of chick flick right now?" Dean suddenly asked, "Court her? Can't you say date like a normal person?" Crowley didn't answer Dean, he simply looked at you. As a researcher, you knew exactly what he meant. "N-No, Dean. He can't. They're two different things. Courting means he-Crowley-he wants to m-m-m-" you couldn't even get the word out, you were so shocked by his admission.

"It means I want to make you my queen, love. That is my intention." You swore you stopped breathing for a moment. Courting wasn't like dating. Not at all. The end game of a courtship meant one thing. Marriage. Crowley didn't just want a casual fling. He didn't want to date just to date. He wanted you for eternity. Like…truly wanted you. The very thought made your head spin so fast you were almost dizzy.

"Love? Are you alright?" Your gaze met Crowley's again and, before you could even think about stopping yourself, you threw yourself into his arms, catching him of guard. It was a good thing for his quick reflexes. Without them, you both would have fallen to the floor.

The room went deathly silent as you held onto Crowley for dear life. No one said anything as you heard a snap and then felt the world spin. When you pulled away from Crowley, you were no longer in the bunker. Instead, you were in a very luxurious hotel room. When you gave Crowley a look, he chuckled. "Nothing untoward, I assure you. I just want you to myself tonight, love." You smiled at bit your lip again.

"However, you don't stop biting that lip of yours, I cannot be held responsible for what happens." You felt your entire body heat up at that. "Crowley!" you admonished, but there was a playful tone to your voice that made him smile. He reached up to cup your cheek. His hazel eyes stared deeply into your (e/c) ones. "Will you allow me the honor of courting you, Y/N?" You glanced at the bed and then back to him.

"That depends. How opposed are you to cuddles?" Crowley's grin was dazzling as he snapped his fingers again. You were now on the bed in the softest set of pajamas you'd ever felt with Crowley next to you, pulling you to him. You sighed happily. "Yes, Crowley. I would love for you to court me." You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

(a/n: I hope you like it!!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @esoltis280 @stories-by-shanna-p @motleymoose

SPN Tags: @jotink78

This specific fic: @aquananner24

#spn #crowley #crowley x reader

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gospelofme · 3 years

Text

47 Thoughts While Watching Part 1 of The Bad Batch season finale (spoilers ahead!!!!!)

“They’ll still come for you”. Ugh that sounds so sad. He’s confident about it too.

How did Echo get so good at ship repairs? Unless basic ship crap is mandatory for sudden repairs. Which I guess if you hang with Skywalker, that’s a requirement.

Aaahhh, the Kamino theme is memorable.

So I wonder if Rampart planned to leave Crosshair on Kamino all along?

I love the fact the Kaminoans kept secrets from the Republic/Empire. Like using their credits to fund their own projects.

I wonder how Omega knew about that platform….I didn’t think she’d ever left Kamino. Unless she went there with Nala Se for whatever.

Damn, I’d hate always getting wet when I go outside.

So the pad and lift are proximity sensor based. Not weight.

So the tubes aren’t documented on any schematics. So none of the blueprints that Tech has access to have them on there. That means one of two things:

- there are “official” and “unofficial” blueprints. Like some the Republic were given and the actual plans.

- Nala Se had the tube system built specifically for her.

Private research lab doesn’t mean secret…but still, why did she get a private one? Was it just to create the enhanced clones? Or was it used for more “off the records” projects?

And if there are other tubes that run throughout Kamino, and they’re all secret, WHY!? Like why do they exist? Surely the Kaminoans know they can just go wherever they want whenever they want because they fucking live there. Unless….they became prisoners in their own home….

About how uncomfortable Omega is having to go to the lab…

“why would I be?” He sounded like he rolled his eyes there.

The amount of salt that is being sprinkled by Crosshair right now.

“We didn’t have a choice?”

“And I did?”

Okay so when I first watched this episode, I thought that meant he no longer had his chip. But now I see it as Crosshair not having a choice because Hunter had committed treason by what his orders were telling him.

Also, I love the colors used in the control room. Idk why. They just all work. I think it’s because the rest of that place is so blinding with white light.

So how did they build the tubes under water….

“Most in Tipoca City don’t know about it.” So some do.

Omega sounds so sad. Honestly since I’m certain there were more than just five enhanced clones, since Nala Se said that that was all that remained, I wonder if Omega saw the clones that didn’t survive the experimentation.

About how Tech always looks like he’s texting. I’m waiting for him to take a selfie with Echo or something.

About Hunter still trying to convince Crosshair that this is all influenced by his chip. I think Crosshair knows he’s being used, but he (like the others in Clone Force 99) want some sense of normalcy. Like Echo said earlier, “we’re soldiers, what other path is there?”

Okay the alarm reminds me of the purge siren.

And the indoor alarm sounds like an airport alert.

About Echo taking charge, although I think he naturally is the next in command rank-wise. Do we even know the rank of Tech and Wrecker? What was Crosshair’s rank before?

Omega should’ve gone and tattled on them to Rex. Like “and then they just ditched me!! Again!! I know I have no combat training but still…”

Its pretty clear that Crosshair knows how the team is going to act. Like what tactics they’d use and decisions they’d make. Like on Bracca, Crosshair knew immediately the scanner frequencies were being jammed, because he had seen Tech use that trick before.

“We’re running out of time Commander” I have enjoyed that guy’s voice. It’s soothing.

The way Crosshair spits out “the Republic” makes me think there is something more than just the inhibitor chip at play. I wonder if he’s always harbored ill feelings towards the Republic. Cut had issues with the war that were so strong, he deserted. I wonder if Crosshair had similar feelings.

Wow he is really hurt about being left behind. And I can understand that. But Hunter did have a responsibility to Omega, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech too. He couldn’t risk them being shot and killed while trying to reason with someone who is shooting at him. Of course maybe if he had made more of an effort to get Crosshair to come with them…..of course I do think the Empire has done some brainwashing of Crosshair as well.

“I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you, what you never gave me. A chance.”

I think there is more to this than face value. It could very well mean he’s giving them a chance to join the Empire. But that whole conversion always used the term “choice”, not “chance”. “Chance” is used more as “an opportunity to do something”. That “do something” could be making a decision though. Like “I’m going to give you a chance to join the Empire.” But it could be “I’m going to give you a chance to get out of here.” Hunter didn’t give Crosshair a chance to prove he was loyal to them either. Plus the way the rest of Crosshair’s team reacted tells me they weren’t aware of their Commander’s intentions.

I love how Tech, Wrecker, and Echo are standing there like 😐

I thought it was interesting Crosshair decided to send Omega on a shuttle off world. Of course where would that have been? Just pick some random coordinates and say “good luck”? How would that be received by Rampart? Of course I don’t think he cared about Omega. That was just Nala Se and Lama Su really. And honestly, Crosshair was sounding like he’d actually thought about this. Like if Hunter wants to keep Omega safe, then he needs to realize that she won’t be safe with them. Especially if they’re being hunted. However there may have been an ulterior motive here too. With Omega out of the way, It will be like “old times” when it was just them. He probably feels like he was replaced by a kid.

The change in music though. The emotional, sweeping theme dropping down to a more sinister theme when Crosshair mentions their superiority over regular troopers.

“This is what we were made for.” What if, and hear me out…what if the enhanced clones were created specifically for the Empire. Their deployment during the Clone Wars could’ve been a testing phase. They may not have been prepared for the chance the inhibitor chips didn’t work. Crosshair had mentioned that Hunter couldn’t see the bigger picture. What if that is the bigger picture. That all of them were created to serve the Empire. Not the Republic. Which would explain Crosshair’s sudden disgust with it.

That reflection shot of Tech staring into the mirror. I like that shot. That’s really beautifully animated.

I have a feeling Crosshair knew his new squad wouldn’t listen to him. The “stand down” sounded like he was just saying it to say it. I don’t think he ever had respect for them, not after what happened with Saw’s fighters. They weren’t following him out of loyalty, but fear. And loyalty is a big deal to Crosshair. Honestly I think he had planned all along to kill his new squad. Like from the beginning. Which is why he was trying so hard to get his old squad members. The sooner he got them and convinced them to come to his side, the sooner he could shoot his new squad.

I have a feeling Crosshair know’s the reason why they were all created. Granted that could be brainwashing by the Empire to gain his compliance and loyalty. But something tells me that they were created specifically to become an elite squad for the Emperor.

Crosshair has some serious Anakin vibes when he’s telling Hunter to not become his enemy. And Hunter has some Obiwan vibes with the whole “we never were” line.

I do enjoy the weight they give Crosshair when Hunter flips him. Like the sound of him hitting the floor. He’s heavier than he looks.

Lmao that one TK trooper like “nope, imma get the fuck out of here.”

“Let the clones die together.” Yeah that bitch always intended to leave Crosshair on Kamino. Rampart never actually considered him important since he was the one that pitched the idea of an all conscripted trooper squad. He only had Crosshair as a part of it because Admiral Tarkin still liked the idea of clones. I think Rampart is going to try to climb over Tarkin on that Empire ladder. He didn’t mention to Tarkin that Crosshair was still on Kamino.

Aaahhh now the subject of the chip. Does he or doesn’t he? I think he does. The Empire wouldn’t remove it and take that risk of losing that compliance and blind loyalty. Plus the “does it really matter?” tells me he doesn’t know when, which he would if it was recent. He did have it in the first episode though. It showed up on the scanner and he did the whole “good soldiers follow orders.”

So I don’t think he was going to shoot Hunter. I think he feigned movement to make Hunter shoot him. He may not have thought Hunter’s blaster was sent to stun even. He may have intended to have Hunter kill him.

I do like how Hunter doesn’t hesitate to not bring Crosshair this time.

Damn the shots of the empty facility kills me.

Okay, so I know this was sad BUT the bombardment of Kamino was beautifully animated. Honestly. The underwater shots of the bolts hitting the support pillars. And it reminds me…Omega asked Tech about these the war was like and now she kinda knows. She’s never seen explosions like that.

Get ready for part 2

@jgvfhl @leias-left-hair-bun @escapedthesarlacc @halzore @eyecandyeoz

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tiredthinkbucket · 4 years

Text

Setting + Trope + Sentence Prompt Game

Couldn’t quite find the right prompt game that I wanted, so I compiled my own. Pick one from each category, and send in an ask! Feel free to be a little more specific or leave as is. It’s not perfect, but there are a lot of possible combinations :)

Setting/AU:

After a near-death experience

At a tavern/bar

Canon Divergence

Cooking together

Cuddling

Dark Side

Deleted Scene

Domestic

Game Night

Playing 20 Questions

Recovering from an illness/injury

Stranded

Stuck Indoors

Training turned Tension

Transported

Trust Issues

Unexpected Quest

Watching something together

What-if

Alchemy AU

Angel/Demon AU

Apocalypse AU

Bartender AU

Bodyguard AU

Bookstore AU

Bounty Hunter AU

Business AU

Camping AU

Celebrity AU

Coffee Shop AU

Crime AU

Dog Walker AU

Fairy Tale AU

Flower shop AU

Hogwarts AU

Hospital AU

Journalist AU

Law Enforcement/Military AU

Library AU

Medieval AU

Mythology AU

Neighbors AU

Pacific Rim AU

Photographer AU

Pirate AU

Roadtrip AU

Rockstar AU

Roommates AU

Royalty AU

Soulmates AU

Space AU

Spy AU

Superhero/Supervillain AU

Tattoo Parlor AU

Travel AU

Treasure Hunter AU

Vampire AU

Victorian AU

Western AU

Zombie AU

Your Choice, make one up!

Trope:

a. 5 Times + 1 b. A Big Damn Kiss c. A Little Kiss d. Amnesia e. Blind Date f. Darkfic g. Drunk Confession h. Enemies to Lovers i. Fake Relationship j. First Kiss k. Fix-It l. Hurt/Comfort m. It was just supposed to be a one time thing! n. Matchmaker o. Misunderstanding p. Meet Cute q. Meet Messy r. Mutual Pining s. Nightmares t. Secret Relationship u. Sharing a Bed v. Strangers to Lovers w. Texting x. Wrong Number y. Your Choice

Sentence:

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you need help?”

“What did you say?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Quit whining.”

“Why are you so annoying?”

“I might have had a few shots.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I hate you.”

“No no no no no.”

“Just shut up already.”

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Make me.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“What are you doing up?”

“You have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

“Fuck.”

“Can you hold still.”

“Just admit you’re wrong.”

“I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else."

“That’s irrational.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Sorry, your good looks are really distracting.”

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like that you exist.”

“Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system.”

“Can I touch your boob?”

“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”

“No, it was my fault for thinking that you might care.”

“I can be flexible. As long as everything is exactly the way I want it, I’m totally flexible.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to touch your butt.”

“Is that blood?”

“It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

“You’re like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach me?”

“I recognize that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid decision I have elected to ignore it.”

“Do not tell anyone you saw this.”

“I know a shortcut.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Oh god.”

“I’m gonna lay down and die for like a half hour okay?”

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

“I platonically want to have sex with you. No big deal.”

"I’m a little concerned for your health."

“Get out of the way before I murder you.”

“Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle."

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies lying around.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“K.”

“Play along.”

“You have you cold. You aren’t dying.”

"Kiss me while everyone’s looking.”

“I’m like 75% certain this won’t explode on us.”

Make one up

#ask game #prompt game #prompt #fanfic prompt #writing #tropes #ask #yennaia #send em in

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pandas-pandemonium · 3 years

Text

Blood Ties (Part 1) - Yandere! Thomas Andre x GN!Reader x Yandere! Baek Yoon-ho

A/N: It’s here! The first part of the yandere solo leveling fic! Both the mens’ endings have yet to be written, but enjoy this open ended part first.

Note: Only hints of yandere is shown here and nothing too extreme yet

Summary: [Name] is an A-Rank mage in the Scavengers Guild. When an offer to join the White Tiger Guild in South Korea is given, [Name] has to question where their loyalties lie. To their years in the Scavenger guild, or to their childhood friend?

2pm, Wednesday – Thomas Andre’s Office, Somewhere in the United States

“Sir, Hunter [Name] is here for their scheduled meeting,” the voice of Thomas's secretary announced, looking over to her boss who was busy with some paperwork, while the TV blared in the background. Immediately, he lifted his head up, his eyes bright and his grin brighter than ever.

“Oh? Then send them in! What are you even doing? Don’t make them wait,” he said, leaning back in his seat. Despite his cheerful grin, Laura had worked long enough to pick up his slight shifts in mood. She was glad she hadn’t waited any longer, or she might have lost her job right then and there.

“Understood. I’ll let them in,” she replied. It sure was a wonder though, how this A-rank Mage caught Scavenger's Guild Master's attention and interest. After all, the guild had a bunch of S-rank hunters from all over the world. For a mere A-rank to catch the eye of a man who believed in strength more than anything else, she wondered if this person was a false ranker at first, until she checked their guild registry.

[Name] [Surname], an A-rank magic user who favoured the wind element above the more destructive fire or ice elements. They had been in the guild for the past three years, and it was just a year after they joined that Thomas Andre started asking about them. They were even personally asked on a number of occasions, to join the guild master on several raids.

As these thoughts ran through the secretary's mind, Laura quietly watched as the figure made their way to Thomas's desk.

“You wanted to see me, boss?” they asked, looking up at the large man seated at his desk.

Thomas’s eyes softened as he leaned his body towards them, “Yep. Say, we haven’t talked for a while, eh? Something about you going on several overseas business trips?”

[Name] swallowed as they nodded. “It was urgent sir… I’ve had a lot to do abroad lately,” they explained. Thomas only hummed in acknowledgement as he leaned back against the leather chair.

“And tell me, what are these trips for? Last I recall, a guild in England had to hire you about two months ago. Other than that… I don’t think you’ve had any overseas raids,” he said, a large hand stroking his goatee absent-mindedly.

“Uh… personal matters, sir. Nothing concerning the guild, really.”

Just then, out of the corner of the hunter’s eye, they spotted the news channel that was on, featuring a very familiar face, Baek Yoon-ho. Immediately, their eyes widened.

“Wait, Yoon-ie’s a guild leader?!” they exclaimed, almost forgetting about the giant in the room.

“Yoonie?” he repeated. [Name] immediately felt the blood rush to their face as they cleared their throat awkwardly.

“Um, yeah. I used to study abroad in South Korea… Yoonie is just what I called Baek Yoon-ho when were students,” they explained, looking down at their feet bashfully while cursing themselves internally.

“Hm, that’s new. So your little highschool buddy’s a full-fledged guild leader… and a rather famous one at that,” he commented, dark red eyes silently observing the smaller figure in front of him.

“Y-yeah, time sure flies,” they replied. “You don’t have to worry though! He’s a friend, but it’s not like I’ll leave the States for the White Tiger guild!”

Thomas’s face darkened as a threatening smile loomed over his gaunt features, “You’d better not, [Nickname]. I don’t take kindly to my guild members trying to leave, remember that.”

[Name]’s face blanched, and they nodded nervously, “R-right. Of course, sir. So, um… what was it that you called me here for?”

“Ah yes. I did call you here for something…now what was it…” he pondered to himself as he gazed up at the ceiling. “Right! I wanted to invite you for dinner! To catch up with you, talk a little, get to know each other better, ya know?”

[Name] raised an eyebrow, “Well, I don’t have any plans tonight…but this is quite sudden, sir.”

“Think of it as a little ‘Welcome back home’ party for you. All expenses will be handled by me. We can even go on a date afterwards,” Thomas said, his signature smile on his face.

“A-A date, sir?”

“If you have a problem with calling it a date, it can just be an outing. No titles, just us two hunters. What d’ ya say, [Name]?”

[Name] pressed their lips in a thin line as they thought over the offer. Free dinner sounded great, but they didn’t know if they could stand the pressure of being next to such an intimidating figure. Hell, even right now he looked the part.

Taking deep breaths, [Name] weighed their options in their mind, in the end settling to accept. If they rejected him, [Name] didn’t want to think of what could come next. Thomas Andre was a powerful man after all, with status and prestige to his name, and with it, he could do many things with little to no consequences.

“I’ll go. As long as we consider this as just a friendly outing though! I don’t want people to misunderstand,” they said. Thomas’s eyes softened and he reached over to stroke [Name]’s head.

“Good to know. I’ll text you the restaurant’s name and location in a few. You can go now,” he said, dismissing them from his room, much to their relief.

Upon exiting the office, [Name] let out the breath they had been holding throughout the whole meeting. It was so sudden. Two days after they arrived back from Japan on a family trip, the guild master suddenly informs them that he wants to speak with them the next day when he’s free. At first, they had thought he was going to reprimand them, but his awfully cheery demeanour and dinner invite had them second guessing his intentions. What the hell was going on? Then again, Thomas Andre had been like this ever since they met face-to-face, at least a year ago. [Name] could remember one too many incidents when their own raid got cancelled only to be suddenly slotted into some A rank gate to “accompany” the guild master. It really wasn’t like he needed the support though, being a National Level Hunter and all. [Name] sighed, perhaps this dinner would be a good chance to ask why their guild master was so interested in them.

~*~*~

Unfortunately, that dinner never came as [Name] suddenly had to cancel, receiving a phone call from their cousin, telling them that they were awakened and that a recruiter from the White Tiger guild wanted to meet her in two days. Said cousin also asked that [Name] accompany her and that she’ll pay for her ticket to South Korea. Normally, [Name] would have protested, but they had to admit, they were curious. It was also due to the fact that [Cousin’s Name] was someone who [Name] was very close to, and denying her request made [Name] feel guilty. After all, [Cousin’s Name] was there for them when they were awakened. It was only right that they do the same.

That night, [Name] had to make a very difficult phone call to Thomas Andre that they couldn’t make it for their dinner, much to his (not very well-hidden) dismay. When prompted, [Name] could only give the truth, saying that their cousin who was studying in South Korea had called for a last-minute reunion. It wasn’t too big of a deal for [Name], as they were used to having to pack suddenly due to emergency calls for a raid or (as with their previous job as a medical intern working in the ER), urgent calls for assistance.

Thomas, despite his initial disappointment, sounded quite understanding, ushering them to quickly pack for tonight, and that he’ll mark them as unavailable for raids for the next three days or so. Thanking him profusely, [Name] immediately started to pack for the 10am flight the next morning.

~~~~~

Thomas Andre was not happy, his mood worsened by [Name]’s dinner cancellation followed by some small guild leader asking for assistance with an A-class gate somewhere in South America. He shot them down quickly as he went off to have his own solo dinner at the same restaurant he was supposed to go with [Name] that night. How frustrating. Just when he had a clear schedule, the universe decided to screw him over by making other people preoccupied. At this point, he won’t be able to have a proper talk with his little [Name] and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

His bad mood continued until the next morning and well into the night, causing everyone around him to be on edge. It was not until around 1am that day, that he received a phone call from the one person who indirectly caused his moodiness, [Name] [Surname].

“Darlin’! Great to hear from you, are you already in Korea?” he greeted, his loud booming voice echoing in his bedroom, unable to contain his excitement.

“Uh, yes I am. I just reached about two hours ago. Anyways sir, I needed to call you to ask for permission about something.”

Oh, he loved hearing their voice. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, well this is quite last minute, but I need to ask for formal permission to participate in another guild’s raid. More specifically, the White Tigers.”

Thomas almost broke his phone in half.

“And may I ask why you’re joining another guild’s raid?”

“See, it just so happened that I ran into Baek Yoonho when I was accompanying my cousin to the guild. One thing led to another, and they just so happened to receive news of a gate opening in Seoul. It’s a small one, just a B-class. Yoonho and I, along with my cousin and a couple other members will be going.”

“And why have you agreed? You are a member of the Scavengers, you know.”

Silence on the other end.

“Uh…how do I say this… Yoonho might be interested in recruiting me.”

The line went dead, as did Thomas’s phone.

[Name] was sweating bullets. Thomas Andre hung up without a word. He was mad, really mad. Nervously, they looked up at their childhood friend who was with them. His amber eyes looking down at them softly.

“No good?” he asked. [Name] sighed and shrugged.

“I don’t know. He didn’t give me an answer. I just know that he is very, very mad. I don’t know, Yoon-ie, I don’t think this is a good idea…” they said.

Baek Yoonho furrowed his eyebrows. This was upsetting… he meets his childhood friend (and first love) after so many years for only a couple days and then they head back immediately? That was horrible! He had so many things he wanted to talk about, they haven’t even had the chance to properly show them around Seoul and show them how much the city has changed!

“You don’t have to join us… Think of this as just accompanying your cousin on her first dungeon raid,” he said, hoping to reason with them. As [Name] frowned and thought over his words, their message tone rang.

“Oh, it’s Thomas!” they exclaimed, hurriedly opening his text message. As soon as they read it, their face paled and their eyes widened.

“No way…” they muttered.

“What did he say?” he asked leaning over to look at their phone. [Name] shakily showed the text to the other man.

“He says he’ll let me go, but he’ll be flying here by tomorrow night to make sure nothing happens to me…”

Baek Yoonho almost let out a snarl. So, this was how a National Level hunter played huh. Very well then, he’ll agree to the Scavenger guild master’s conditions.

“Tell him he has my word. He can be certain that I’ll protect you to my very best ability.”

~*~*~

The next afternoon, the group of hunters had gathered in front of the department store where a gate had opened. It was astonishing to see an S-Class hunter in front of a B-Class gate, and that fact alone was enough to draw hordes of reporters to the scene, hungry for a scoop. Despite the shouting of questions and demands for answers, the group remained unaffected…for the most part. [Name]’s cousin was observing the whole situation wide-eyed while clinging on to her cousin’s cloak, a signature garment for mages.

[Name] looked over to their cousin with a smile, squeezing her shoulder to comfort her. (They were also trying to ignore the fact that they too, were incredibly nervous).

“It’s the usual crowd, [Cousin’s Name]. Don’t worry too much about it. Once you’re in there, all you need to do is focus on fighting the monsters in the dungeon, and you’ll come out a hero,” they said with a sympathetic smile. [Cousin’s Name] looked at them worriedly.

“You sure, [Nickname]?” she asked.

[Name] nodded, “Very.”

It was then that the clock finally hit 1pm and Baek Yoonho shouted, “Everyone! Get ready to go in!” getting the attention of the remaining crew. Some of which were wondering why they were even here. With an S-Class hunter leading the group, were they really needed? Without a doubt, Baek Yoonho would slaughter every single one of the monsters. He was an S-Rank after all. As if he read their minds, Baek Yoonho turned to the back.

“Remember, I’ll only be assisting you when you’re in a pinch. Other than that, you all will be doing most of the work. Got it?” he said. The three B-Rank hunters swallowed and stood up straight.

“Yes, sir!” they shouted.

With that, the six hunters entered the gate.

The moment they entered, a swarm of bug-like creatures flew out of their hiding place, responding to the intruders. Immediately with a wave of their hand and a shout, [Name] put up a wind barrier, slicing the insects that were trying to get in clean in half. Those that were already in the barrier had to be dealt with by the three melee hunters, one of which was [Cousin’s Name].

Understandably, [Cousin’s Name] was lost, swinging her spear haphazardly. [Name], who was focusing on keeping up the wind barrier, could only shout instructions to her. Thankfully, the other two hunters dealt with the swarm quickly, allowing a brief moment of downtime as they ventured further in.

Soon enough, they came across a giant wasp nest, much to [Name]’s chagrin. Aside from the massive dirt ball in the middle of the cavern, red glowing eyes accompanied with the occasional yellow and green watched from the holes. Quietly, they whispered into their cousin’s ear.

“Remember, watch their movements and then strike. You can do this.”

[Cousin’s Name] smiled back at them, “Thanks, [Nickname].”

The group took in a deep breath and watched the insects who remained hidden in their home. The air was tense as neither side made a move until Baek Yoonho raised his hand, and lowered it, signalling the attack. Immediately, the two melee hunters dashed forward, running up the walls of the hive and stabbing a knife into the nearest wasp. In response, the bugs flew out, poised to kill the intruders.

[Name] inhaled, summoning the energy between their palms, slowly gathering a strong wind. Just as a wasp turned towards them, it was slashed in half by a wind blade along with its comrades. [Cousin’s Name] on the other hand, was thankfully getting a hang of fighting the fast-moving insects, her spear piercing through several at a time. Her footwork was clumsy, but with practice, she would be a great fighter, [Name] acknowledged.

At least ten minutes passed before the soldiers of the hive were cleared out, leaving only the generals and the Queen Wasp. She had finally shown herself, her large insectoid body hovering above the hive. Baek Yoonho’s eyes glowed for a second before his expression morphed into one of shock.

“You’re telling me this is a B-Rank boss?!” he exclaimed, immediately stepping out into the forefront. [Name]’s eyes darted over to their friend in shock.

“What do you mean, Yoon-ho?!”

“This queen can’t be a B-Rank, it’s at least an A-Rank or higher,” he said, his hands curled as his claws slowly formed. “Either way, it’s not something you all can defeat singlehandedly. I suggest the rest of you deal with the generals, I’ll take care of the boss myself.”

[Name] swallowed and nodded. How was this possible? An A-Rank boss in a B-Rank dungeon was unheard of! Alas, they had no time to think over this anomaly, as they were immediately engaged in battle with a general. The general was huge, at least 4 feet tall and [Name] realised quickly that their wind blades barely dealt a scratch against its hard exoskeleton. It didn’t help that it was incredibly fast, and within seconds, [Name] was forced into the defensive, putting up a weak wind shield around themselves as they tried to create some distance from the attacking wasp.

[Name] was huffing, sweat dripping down their cheeks as they continuously threw out wind blade after wind blade. Their mana was dangerously low, and if the wasp continued its onslaught, their shield would break in no time. It was then [Name] made the mistake of letting their eyes wander, and they landed on their cousin, to find them cornered by another wasp. They watched in shock as the wasp whacked away the spear [Cousin’s Name] was wielding and raised a sharp arm to attack.

‘[Cousin’s Name]!!” they yelled out as they summoned a strong gale storm in their cousin’s direction, effectively knocking the wasp away, but leaving themselves open for their enemy to attack. In horror, Baek Yoonho tore his eyes away from the queen and leaped towards the mage, transforming mid-jump and tearing through the general, but not before it managed to stab through [Name]’s arm.

“Damn it! Are you okay?!” Baek Yoonho cried out, dashing to the fallen [Name], who was wincing in pain from the deep wound. [Name] gritted their teeth in pain before nodding.

“It’s just a stab wound. I’ll get the healer to tend to it. You need to get back to the Queen, Yoon-ie,” they said through deep breaths. [Name] was right, the queen was already on her way down, attacking anyone who tried to stop her. If Baek Yoon-ho wasted anymore time, [Name] wouldn’t be the only badly injured one.

Yoon-ho clicked his tongue and got back up, this time in half-transformed state. In two slashes of his claws, he tore through the already weakened Queen, successfully clearing the dungeon. [Name] thankfully, received almost immediate attention from the healer, but unfortunately the healer was only a B-Rank and thus could only stop the bleeding, as they had to reserve mana for the other injured hunters. Aside from that, [Name] received a nicely wrapped bandage around their arm, keeping the wound safe from infections. They could only hope Thomas won’t make a huge fuss about the whole injury, especially after he had made Baek Yoon-ho swear to not let anything happen to them.

As the group moved out of the dungeon to allow the clean-up crew to enter, Yoon-ho looked over to his friend worriedly.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, a gentle hand on their shoulder as he walked beside them. [Cousin’s Name] had sneakily withdrawn to the back of the group to “allow the two some alone time”.

“I already said I am! Don’t worry so much, Yoon-ie. The healer stopped the bleeding, and all that’s left is for the wound to properly close and I’ll be fine in a couple days,” they said, patting their friend on his back. Yoon-ho could only give a half smile as his gaze remained fixated on their arm.

Gosh, he was an idiot. He should have finished up the boss fight quicker instead of letting [Name] try to handle an elite monster by themselves! If he hadn’t saved them in time… he didn’t dare think of how badly hurt [Name] could’ve been. He didn’t care about Thomas Andre’s conditions, he only cared that [Name] was hurt under his supervision.

As soon as the group exited the portal, they were once again bombarded by the press. He groaned. Right, he completely forgot about this nuisance that he had to deal with. With deep breaths, he steeled himself and forced a confident yet reassuring smile on his face. In a calm voice, he explained that there was an unexpected occurrence, but it was dealt with swiftly and that there was nothing to worry about. He was relieved that the press left after that, allowing the group to return the White Tiger Guild headquarters to recuperate.

However, Baek Yoon-ho did not expect Thomas Andre to be greeting him in his own office, seated right behind his own table, much to his annoyance.

~*~*~

Thomas Andre grinned the moment Baek Yoon-ho and [Name] walked in and he stood up to greet the two.

“Hello! You’re Baek Yoon-ho, right?” he asked, in broken (and admittedly rude) Korean, but understandable, nonetheless. Baek Yoon-ho had to hold back a scowl as he muttered to an assistant to get a translator in the room.

“Yes. What brings you here, Mr. Andre?” he replied. He was silently grateful to [Name] for teaching him some English. A man soon rushed in, introducing himself in fluent English as an interpreter.

“I’m here to check in on [Name], like I said I would,” he replied, this time in English. His red eyes then fell onto the bandage [Name] was wearing. “And it appears, you have broken your promise.” The aura around him changed, his face morphed into one of anger. The poor man translating was quaking in his shoes.

“It appears I have. But aside from that, they say they’re completely fine. As you can see, they’re still well and healthy, and I intend to have another guild healer attend to their remaining wounds as soon as possible,” Baek Yoon-ho replied, standing closer to the tall blonde American, his chest held high.

“That is true! Sir, you really don’t have to make a fuss. See! I’m a-okay!” [Name] chimed in, unwrapping the bandage to reveal the slight scab that had formed over the wound.

Thomas hummed to himself as he glanced over [Name]’s injury. “But you still got hurt despite Mr. Baek’s claims that nothing would happen to you.”

“That was entirely my fault. I took my eyes off the monster for a second, and Yoon-ho dove in to save me. Really! If it wasn’t for him, I would have been much worse off!” they tried to explain.

“So, you’re saying you do want to be with the White Tiger guild then, since you’re defending the guild master so much.”

[Name]’s eyes widened, hurriedly protesting against his words. “That’s not what I was saying! I just- Yoonho is my friend and I don’t want you thinking he’s guilty of anything!”

Yoon-ho felt his face warm up, baffled by [Name]’s bluntness. It would make it even better if he wasn’t just a friend to them, but he was glad that he meant so much to them.

Thomas stared the brown-haired man down as he stroked his goatee.

“If you say so, babe. Anyways, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Baek. How about, we decide who’s the stronger one of us here? That way, we’d have a better way to gauge who’ll be more suited to protect them, no?”

[Name]’s jaw dropped. “Hello? I can decide for myself!”

Baek Yoon-ho sighed, “Exactly what they say, Mr. Andre. They can decide for themselves, so if they choose to join the White Tiger guild to be closer with their cousin, then so be it. America is awfully far from their family after all, no?”

Thomas let out a mirthless laugh, “Sure. But it is unfortunate that little [Name] here has wavering loyalties. Think of this fight as more of a…” he thought for a while. “Warning.”

Baek Yoon-ho’s eyes darkened. “A warning, you say?”

“Yes. You see, I don’t like that you attempted to steal one of my guildmates and so by defeating you, I’ll be showing you why you shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours.”

Yoon-ho chuckled, “Very well then, Mr. Andre. I’ll see you downstairs in the Hunter Association’s gym.”

[Name] could only watch in bafflement as the two men made their way out of the office, a bloodthirsty aura hanging around them. Whichever one wins, [Name] knew it wasn’t going to end well.

Choose your winner:

Thomas Andre or Baek Yoon-ho

#yandere #yandere solo leveling #yandere thomas andre #yandere baek yoonho #blood ties #yandere fic #yandere imagines

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halequeenjas · 3 years

Text

Welcome to Chili’s || Harsh, Nell, & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @nelllraiser @notsoharsh @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Okay, maybe sometimes you do have to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s.

Normally, Jasmine wouldn’t be quite so inclined to the “cheap” part mentioned in Nell’s text, but hell, she did love margaritas and Chili’s delivered on that front. She’d gone there for plenty of girls’ nights and happy hours in the past, so she’d been inclined to agree to the outing. Especially since she looked forward to some quality time with the youngest Vural. They’d opted to sit at the bar as they were primarily here for the drinks. It was a nice, relaxing evening and she found it easy to just goof around with Nell. She’d always been so free-spirited and funny. Hell, after a few rounds of margaritas, Jasmine found herself going along with Nell’s attempts to troll the bartender instead of nudging her to stop. “She’s really not messing with you, Josh. The cream in Bailey’s only comes from a very specific kind of cow. You’re a bartender, you really should know this!” She took another sip from her margarita and had a devious look in her eyes. She glanced around the bar and saw a familiar face approaching the bar. “Harsh,” she practically yelled in a voice that definitely sounded a little tipsy. She waved enthusiastically and patted the seat next to her. Thankfully, her enchanted red heels kept her from slipping as she lept up to greet her hunter friend. “You know Nell, right? You should join us. I do still owe you that drink,” she said with a small nudge.

After looking at the amount of medical bills and debt she still owed the hospital, a long day of checking in on the family’s of those killed in the demon-shark attack, and after the weekend Jasmine had gone through, Nell could think of no better idea than getting cheaply and absolutely sloshed at a Chili’s. “It’s true!” she exclaimed a little too loudly, leaning towards the bartender that continued to consider her and the exorcist with careful skepticism. “First you gotta be named Bailey. Then you gotta name the cow Bailey. And then you have to have a- what’s it called, Jasmine? The guys who are in the courtroom with the baton and the ‘All rise for the honorable judge!’ “ Nell’s nose scrunched as she thought, finding her answer a full and long five seconds later. “The Bailiff! He has to be the one to milk it. Then it’s Bailey’s. It’s like champagne coming from that one place in France!” But then Jasmine was yelling a familiar name, and Nell’s head whipped to find the bearer of said name. “Harsh!” Nell yelled in an equally inebriated tone. “Harsh, come here right now! Park your little butt right here,” she said as she too patted the seat. “He knows me! You know Jasmine?” Nell questioned the man before looking back towards her drinking buddy. “You know Harsh?” Another flicker of thought later, Nell squinted her eyes, asking Jasmine in a far too loud whisper, “Are you flirting with him?”

It wasn’t exactly Harsh’s usual haunt, but hey, he had a coupon. Couldn’t let that go to waste. The plan had been to cruise around, maybe pick out an easy meal as they were heading out the door, but that quickly got scrapped when a familiar voice called his name. Easy grin spreading on his face, Harsh sidled his way through the small crowd of irritable customers and exhausted looking wait staff to the bar. “Well, look who it is, my two favorite ladies. Funny running into you here. Is this where all the cool people hang out now? I must’ve missed the memo.” He gave Jasmine a one armed hug and shot Nell a wink before sinking into the seat beside them. Alright new plan. They both already seemed a little sloshed, someone would have to get them home safe. When did he become such a lame ass babysitter? “I’ll take a drink, looks like I’m going to need a few to catch up with you two.” His grin only grew with Nell’s too loud question. “I like to think everyone is always flirting with me, it makes things more fun.”

Maybe Jasmine should have taken pity on the poor bartender, but she was starting to understand why Nell found this to be so fun as she held back drunken giggles as Nell insisted all these ridiculous steps for Bailey’s to be Bailey’s. The description was making her want a Bailey’s and coffee though she didn’t want to be up all night or mix liquors with the… however many margaritas she’d drank at this point. Before they could further mess with the bartender, they were greeting Harsh. She laughed as Nell seemed confused that she and Harsh knew each other. “Yes,” she said with a nod, “He’s helped me out with some properties in the past. Really multi-talented man this one.” She gave Harsh’s arm a clumsy nudge that would have perhaps lined up with Nell’s next question had she been a little more graceful. She rolled her eyes, “Nell, please. I’m thirty, not thirteen. But I’ve probably flirted with him which I’m hardly embarrassed by. We’re all attractive adults here.” She smiled brightly and took her seat back at the bar as Harsh sat with the pair of them. With a wave, she told the bartender to add whatever Harsh was having to her tab. “Have as many drinks as you’d like… we definitely have you beat. And you know what, I like your way of thinking. It is more fun to just believe the attractive people in your life are flirting with you.” At least right now it felt that way. A margarita or two ago she would have likely scoffed at most who tried to flirt with her, but hell, who really cared.

The poor bartender was spared from more well-meaning torture as Nell’s attention was sufficiently drawn away by Harsh and Jasmine...and the fresh margarita that had appeared in front of her. Leaning forward to take a quick and messy sip, she wiggled a little as the alcohol slipped down her throat, pleased by the tickle it made. “That’s true- he does have lots of talents. Have you asked him about all the dinosaurs he knows?” she asked, wondering if Jasmine knew of the vampire talents that Harsh possessed. Or was she one of the ones he’d tried to trick into thinking he was a hunter? “I didn’t say it was embarrassing!” she defended loudly. “I was just wondering! Is it illegal to ask?” Then she turned back to the bartender who seemed to look her over with a wary glance. “He’ll have two- no three! Three margaritas for him!” she said while jabbing her thumb in Harsh’s direction. The alcohol might not work all that well, but she didn’t actually care at a moment like this. Maybe if he drank twenty of them, then something would happen.

This could go a couple of ways. There probably wasn’t any way to tell Nell not to drop any little vampire hints without giving himself away. Shit. Harsh really needed to keep better track of who knew what and whether they were any good at keeping secrets. “Aw c’mon, it’s not like I know them personally. But if a dinosaur showed up, I’d definitely introduce myself at least,” he said, with a light laugh. Maybe Nell would get the hint… if he was ever going to be that lucky. Three margaritas probably wouldn’t do much for him, but hell, he wasn’t going to turn them down. He was sipping at the first as he cast an idle glance around the restaurant. Pretty normal. Loud, crowded… except. Huh. He frowned, squinting for a moment. There was this weird little guy just standing there, looking right at Jasmine as people passed him by. He gave Jasmine a slight nudge. “Uh, hey. Is it just me, or is that guy giving you eyes right now?”

Jasmine found herself characteristically shaking her head at Nell. That girl really did say the wildest things. She nudged Nell and chastised, “Be polite, Nellie. You’re not that far behind us. Keep talking like that and I’m getting you a walker and hard candies for your next birthday.” She found herself laughing and added, “You whispered it loudly like it’d be some sort of secret.” Her eyes lit up when the bartender brought over another round of margaritas. It didn’t take her long to get a large gulp in. She got a bit of a chill, but didn’t think much of it. They weren’t too far from the door and Maine in winter was frigid at best. The nudge Harsh gave her made her a little more alert of the familiar feeling. She turned to look where Harsh was directing her and immediately dropped the glass in her hand. The clang of breaking glass was hardly heard over the crowd in Chili’s. Her hand reached for Harsh’s momentarily as she steeled herself to face Larry Bob here and now. Then it hit her, she dropped the hand and looked at him incredulously, “Wait, you can see Larry Bob, too? How- Okay, not the point right now. Nell, I need you to leave. Now.” She clumsily grabbed the salt shaker and fished underneath the bar for her purse. The ghost approached with a satisfied grin on his face. “Come on, Jas, you don’t want your favorite colleague joining you for happy hour?” The wind around them picked up and Jasmine immediately swore under her breath. Calling him a tacky little man probably wouldn’t help the situation right now. There were far too many people here for him to throw a ghostly temper tantrum, but the flying barstool crashing into the shelf of liquor said otherwise.

Hm. Maybe Jasmine didn’t know about Harsh being a vampire. Or maybe he was just acting coy about the dinosaur thing. Either way, Nell didn’t particularly care all that much when she was as many margaritas deep as she was. “It’d be rude not to introduce yourself,” was the only comment she made on that as she took another sip of the drink in front of her. Her lips parted to answer Jasmine as well, but as soon as the words ‘Larry Bob’ were out of the exorcist’s mouth, Nell was frowning, brows drawn almost comically close together. “Larry Bob? Fuck that middle-aged, suburban wannabe NASCAR barbecue dad name having piece of shit- where is he?” Perhaps being drunk at a chili’s had left Nell wanting when it came to good judgment and the name calling of ghosts. But...then again she’d never been one to mince words. As the wind began to pick up, her fists clenched at her sides, paying no attention to Jasmine’s demands she leave. “Fuck that ghost! Fuck ghosts! I’m tired of ghosts! They had their lives, and now they wanna ruin everyone else’s! Step the fuck up, Larry Bob!” As barstools began to fly, Nell groaned, knowing this was about to get very ugly very quickly. “Alright! Everybody out!” she yelled over the din of the erupting chaos, trying to usher the normies out of the bar. “Move your asses, or I’ll move them for you!” At least she was coherent enough to make sure people didn’t get hurt.

Eyes widening with the breaking of the glass, Harsh looked between Jasmine and the creep. Wait. What did she mean how could he--oh. Oh shit. Fucking ghosts. At least the asshole had the decency to give Harsh a bit more time to think of an explanation. As the barstool went flying, Harsh moved, wedging himself between Jasmine and the remains of the bottles flying from the shelf. Glass caught his back as panic spread. Nell’s calls seemed to get almost as much attention as the destruction Larry Bob or whatever it was Jasmine had called him was. Harsh grabbed Jasmine by the arm, keeping her behind him as the ghost advanced. “I’ll explain later. Jasmine, tell me what to do. Nell, stay close.” Seeing Jasmine grab for a salt shaker, he did the same, ripping the top off to spread a clumsy line before the three of them. It wasn’t much. This wasn’t his area, it wasn’t even his fake area. Ghosts usually didn’t bother him and he did the same. He should’ve tried harder to keep it that way.

Normally, Jasmine enjoyed Nell’s colorful antics. However, even in her drunken state, she knew tormenting a poltergeist was a dumb idea. There was no time to tell Nell to can it though. At least she shifted her focus to getting people out of here. That left her here realizing she needed to perform an impromptu exorcism in a Chili’s. At least she didn’t need to direct Nell further. “God damn it, Larry,” she grumbled as she raised her arms and closed her eyes to shield herself from the incoming glass. It caught her by surprise when none hit her. She cautiously opened her eyes and realized Harsh had blocked her from the flying glass. “Thanks,” she said, already a little out of breath. He was asking for direction and she pondered it for a moment, keeping the salt in her hand at the ready. “Try to make sure no one gets impaled. I’m going to try and exorcise this bastard right now.” There was a taunting laugh and another gust of wind that ripped the booths out of the wall. “Like hell you are,” Larry Bob cackled maniacally, “You’re the one who should be the ghost. You’ve always taken what should have been mine.” Jasmine scoffed and fished some salt out of her bag, “Oh, please. I was the best in the office because I actually worked, you snivelling little daddy’s boy.” So much for not taunting ghosts, but she was drunk and she was livid. She haphazardly created a circle of salt on the floor and began chanting the familiar Latin phrases, but found she couldn’t feel a pull on him. Everything just kept flying around her and she could barely keep her balance as the wind whipped all around them.

Why was everyone trying to baby her? Nell squinted defiantly in Harsh’s direction as he mentioned staying close. Honestly, it was as if they didn’t even remember she’d killed more than her fair share of things. Actually, had she mentioned that to Harsh? She couldn’t really recall while there was a poltergeist tearing up a chili’s, and she was multiple margaritas deep. At least the people had mostly vacated the restaurant now, most of them unwilling to be a part of a freak tornado after reading the paper and seeing that the last two had caused deaths. “You tell ‘im, Jasmine! You’re gonna end his whole career! Oh wait! You already did!” The witch egged the woman on, all for trash talk in the heat of a battle- especially after a few shots of tequila. Nell knew she should stay behind the salt line, but she also knew that Larry Bob needed to be stopped despite her being unable to see him, and the metal legs of the table closest to them were looking awfully tempting. With any luck, they’d be made of iron. “Just cover me!” she yelled as her only warning before darting over the salt line, ducking as a barstool went flying past. It was times like these she was grateful for being small, and easily able to get in and out of tight situations. As she neared the table she slurred out a spell, and in the next instant the wood had shattered into pieces, leaving the legs free for the taking. Grabbing one from the floor, she eagerly hefted the trophy in her hands. “Alright! Where is the fucker?!” She directed her question towards Jasmine and Harsh, ready to smack this ghost bastard into oblivion.

So this is what exorcisms were like. Harsh had seen one or two in his time, but he usually hadn’t been caught in the middle of them. He was going to have to go back to that after this. Being on the human side of things sucked. Cursing he batted away flying bits of bottles and dishes, keeping the debris from Jasmine as much as possible. She could do her thing, all he had to do was make sure she and Nell were--fuck, and there went Nell. Jasmine had the salt circle, so he rushed after Nell, ducking under another flying barstool as he skidded to the table. Iron, right. That was a good idea. He snatched up a hefty iron rod, turning just in time to smack a chair out of the air, sending it clattering across the room. “You can’t see him?” Ghost rules were stupid. He pointed. “There, he’s right in front of that booth. Help Jasmine, I’ll get him.” Harsh charged, swinging the iron right through the shrimpy little asshole’s spectral form. That wouldn’t get rid of him, he knew enough about ghosts to be sure of that, so he turned, frantic, searching for where the bastard might pop up next.

Any other time, Jasmine would have appreciated Nell gassing her up. This was not one of those times and she did her best to ignore it. Her hand was clasped around her necklace to help her find the focus and strength she needed to get through this ritual. Thankfully, the crowd seemed eager to get out of there quickly which just left her, Nell, and Harsh. That was… better. The last thing she needed was some random person to be standing by because some pathetic poltergeist held a grudge against her. Everything kept whipping around her and she kept going with the familiar Latin phrases that were admittedly much more difficult to annunciate after… how many margaritas had she had? Way too many to be performing an exorcism in the middle of a god damn Chili’s of all places. Her fists were clenched at her side and her voice was shouting over the howling wind. The longer she went, the weaker she could feel her body becoming. Her legs felt wobbly as if she was on rough waters and her voice was no longer carrying the same strong tone. Black was beginning to pinch around the edges of her eyes and she knew they had to finish this soon, but despite her efforts, Larry Bob wasn’t even being pulled into the circle. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nell rip a table apart. God, she hoped those table legs were iron. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up.

Nell wasn’t sure how exactly she was meant to help Jasmine as Harsh has asked. After all, she wasn’t an exorcist in any sense of the word. Sure- Jasmine could probably sap some strength from her if needed as both their practices were centered in magic, but wouldn’t the quicker option be to just get rid of the ghost? Nevertheless, she momentarily made her way to Jasmine, recognizing the signs of fatigue taking hold of the woman. Squinting her eyes against the wind, Nell reached out to place a hand on the exorcist’s back, siphoning her power into the woman so that Jasmine might stand taller. “Is it working?” she yelled over the din of the Chili’s unable to gauge where things were when she couldn’t even see Larry Bob. Once she was satisfied that Jasmine wasn’t going to collapse, the witch hefted her table leg once again- simply itching to run through some uppity trust fund ghost. Spotting Harsh, she made her way back towards him, jamming her hand into his so that he might guide her. “Just take me with you, and I’ll swing where you swing!” Why hadn’t she brought along those ghost seeing goggles she’d won in the arts and crafts contest? Hindsight was truly 20/20. But hopefully the combined effort of their iron would be enough to dispel Larry Bob if Jasmine didn’t get there first.

“Got it.” Gripping Nell’s hand tight, Harsh turned in a quick circle, looking for that little asshole. There. He gave Nell a pull forward. “There, in front of the stupid chili painting with the purple hat,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely the ghost could have even hard him over the rush of wind and smashing of furniture. “Charge on three. I’ll hit him high, you hit him low. One, two, three--” Did it matter where you hit a ghost? Harsh wasn’t sure. But if they could just disrupt the bastard enough, maybe it would give Jasmine a break, or at least drive him out of this stupid restaurant. On his mark, Harsh lunged forward, pulling Nell along with him. He probably could have just carried her, that might have been more coordinated than their awkward rush forward. With a great swing, he brought his iron rod straight through Larry Bob’s smug face.

Even with Nell’s hand on her back, Jasmine couldn’t seem to banish Larry Bob no matter how hard she tried. Was her slurred speech impacting the Latin? There had to be something, but she had to keep going. There was no other option. That was, until she saw Harsh and Nell charging from the corner of her eye. A protective instinct rose in her despite knowing Nell was more than capable, but it seemed to be for not. As their table legs collided with Larry Bob, he dissipated. He was far from gone for good, but she could breathe again. She let herself fall back against the bar as fatigue overcame her. God, exorcisms and margaritas were not a good combination. She weakly looked between the two before taking in the mess around her. “Thanks,” she croaked, “We need…” They needed to leave. Make sure he didn’t come back. But should they check for people? Everyone had shuffled out pretty quickly and the bar took the brunt of the damage. And she was tired. So freaking tired. “Go,” she finally said though she found herself unable to meet either of their eyes.

Nell had slashed her iron table leg in tandem with Harsh, and judging by his and Jasmine’s reactions— their attack had been successful, momentarily banishing Larry Bob back to wherever it was he went when he dissipated. Dropping her makeshift weapon where she stood, Nell instinctively went over to Jasmine, leaning herself against the exorcist in an attempt to provide some support in the wake of spending so much energy. Funneling her magic towards Jasmine, she tried to lend the woman more of her strength, knowing she still had more to give, and wanting to have Jasmine steady on her feet. “Yes- we should get out of here,” Nell agreed, looking around the wreckage of the Chili’s. With the spoken words of a spell, and a stomp of her foot, Nell magically scanned the rest of the restaurant for any other life signatures, but the only one’s present seemed to be her and Jasmine. And Harsh, of course— though it was notable that he didn’t show up with the spell. Generally, the magic was still able to sense the presence of the undead, and she wondered if it was Harsh’s lack of soul that was making him undetectable. “No one else is here- let’s ditch this popsicle stand. No good fucking ghost,” she mumbled as she tried to herd Jasmine towards the exit, waving Harsh over as well. “You’re both okay, right?”

The asshole was gone, for now. Stupid ghosts. Harsh really needed to learn more about them, maybe Jasmine had books he could borrow… if she wasn’t about to have a whole lot of questions for him. Maybe she would forget the whole bit about how hunters couldn’t see ghosts. Regrouping with her and Nell, Harsh glanced about the restaurant. No heart beats he could hear, there were some panicked ones outside, but most were moving away quickly, and beyond that… sirens. Fuck. “Yeah, we should go, the cops will be here soon and I don’t really want to try to explain an exorcism to them.” He followed along after Nell, a few quick steps bringing him to Jasmine’s other side as he offered his arm. “I’m good, what about you two? That was rough.” His eyes flitted about as they made for the exit, looking for any sign of that smug ghostly piece of shit. “I’m guessing that was a friend of yours, Jasmine?”

Tomorrow was going to be a hangover from hell, that much Jasmine was sure of though she felt steadier on her feet with Nell’s support. Something about it made her feel a little stronger, too. “Yeah, a little shaken up, but nothing some takeout and water can’t fix.” With the confirmation no one was still lingering around, she followed her friends out and quickly realized she was going to need to take care of Larry Bob sooner rather than later. “An old colleague who blames me for the fact he was in an accident like I was supposed to know the deck he was walking on would just collapse.” She had felt bad he died, even if she had never liked him all that much, but he was certainly making it harder and harder to sympathize. She took slow and careful steps towards her car before throwing the keys to Harsh. “You mind driving,” she asked before adding, “I’ll order everyone dinner once we get back to my place.” As she’d also be hitting the books and hitting up every contact she knew in order to get rid of Larry Bob once and for all.

#welcome to chilis #nell #harsh #wickedswriting #larry bob #THANK U BOTH THIS WAS SO FUN

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Knives & Calls (Dean Winchester x Reader)

A/N: Okay, first I just wanted to do a phone themed thing + incorrect quote of b99 here, but the idea just kept going and I decided to go with it. That format — phone text — was already used by some writers on Tumblr, and I decided to give it a shot. Feedback is encouraged.

Summary: You decided to check on Dean after a hunt, but it's easy to notice that something is missing. A video chat might be needed for you to make sure that he's okay.

Warnings: sexual insinuating, very slightly angst, not beta'd.

You smiled for no one but yourself when the picture of a grimacing Dean popped up. You remembered telling him to smile for you to take a photo, and his first reaction being to turn around and make a face at your phone.

You furrowed your eyebrows together, confused about his answer. Of course, Sam always tends to be more careful, check everything twice and analyze more than anyone else. But not even his slight hunter-like paranoia would somehow trick him into telling Dean to stay one more night in a cheap motel after they got comfortable in the bunker.

Although, you could be exaggerating. The boys could'vee been looking for a brother time, which would still be unlike. After all, spending a weekend with your brother would be way better somewhere away from a random, probably stinky motel. Perhaps for the shake of the good old times?

Dean's next text confirmed that you weren't overthinking, and there was no such thing as your hypothetical brotherhood reunion. You had known him for years. Either it was after a sex marathon in the backseat, 5 hours of driving to the repeated sound of his old rock tapes, or even the apocalypse itself, he would always drive. Not even once had Dean Winchester said that he didn't feel like driving his beloved Impala.

The second message came when your quick fingers were dancing against the keyboard to question if they were all right. You signed in relief as another message arrived.

Yet, you asked anyway. After all, you were talking to Dean Winchester. You had tones of emergency kits for him and Sam's weekly wounds.

Leaning forward, you glared at your phone as three tiny balls shook, indicating that Dean was typing. He was clearly avoiding talking about himself, but there was no subtle way of getting out such a direct ask from you. The texting indicator would stop and start again, as if he was writing, erasing, and repeating a few times.

You narrowed eyes at the glowing phone. On the other side, Dean could almost hear the way you said his name, not putting up for his weak excuses. If he closed his eyes, there would be facility to picture you crossing your arms and giving him a worried, yet half annoyed glance.

You didn't wait any further minute, slipping from the text messages application to the phone one, and calling him.

''Dean Winchester, what the fuck is lightly stabbed!?" Your furious tone englobed the obvious concern. You didn't need to see him to know that probably wasn't even one of his worst injures, but you were still worried. You always were. It just seemed so close to losing him everytime.

He didn't miss his humoristic trait to attempt lighting up your behavior, "I was stabbed, but it wasn't deep. You should see the other guy, sweetheart. Demon barbecue."

Although his voice wasn't near shaking, you could notice a glimpse of fragility there, as if he had just left a combat and wanted to keep up the strong warrior facet, while going through a terrible pain. It was lower than usual.

God, you just wished he was home.

"(Y/N), I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll be home tomorrow." Dean said softly; he knew that you didn't enjoy being a part from him when he got hurt. But you couldn't come with them since you had another case in the opposite direction. In fact, you had got home about fifteen minutes ago.

Squeezing the cellphone against your ear like it held your sanity, you nodded, "Or you could just let Sam drive and come home now, so I can take care of you."

The suggestion was laughed off by both of you. Of course he wouldn't.

A bit more relaxed, you pulled your phone away from your face, looking for a certain button before clicking there.

Just like that, Dean's face saw yours through a screen.

"Told you it wasn't that bad." He arches his eyebrows. Truly, his face was barely hurt. Just a few bruises that would go away within a few days. Rolling your eyes, you answerd:

"Very funny, Winchester. Let me see your--" Dean's smirk at this caused you to shake you head from side to side. He was unbelievable. 42 years, injured by a knife, and he would still manage to have a mind of a 25-years-old. "--Wound. Let me see your wound, Dean."

He huffed but moved the phone towards his main injure of the day anyway. Dean lifted his flannel shirt a little, showing the wound that was localizated near to his ribs.

You had to admit, it didn't apparent great profundity, at all. Away from the top five hurtings you had seen grabbed onto him.

"Are you sure it's not too much pain?"

His camera was fixed on the celling for a brief moment before Dean's face was lined to the screen again. Your own unnoticed tense muscles relaxing to the certainty that he was all right.

"Yeah, I've gone through worse. Besides, magic pills." Dean smiled wryly, grabbing the orange bottle and shaking it before putting it somewhere the video call didn't catch. "Your hunt--"

"The easy but necessary kind of job. Sault and burn." You shrugged, adjusting the phone on the table beside your shared bed.

"So, Sammy is not here." His eyebrows raised in insinuation. You pretended not to know where he was going with you, offering a simply agreeing noise in response. "We could play a bit."

"Maybe..." You purred and glared at him. Interrupting his next words before he could even push them out of his sinful mouth, abandoned your shirt. His eyebrows raised, slightly surprised and very appreciative to the view. You grabbed the phone, allowing the camera to travel from your lips, to your neck, then shoulders and collarbone. Dean's eyes glared at your distant skin in anticipation, his cock starting to tremble from excitement. Fuck, he missed touching you.

Unfortunately, the eldest Winchester didn't get to see his favorite part -- your boobs. You just switched the camera from the frontal one, causing it to show the floor of your and Dean's room instead. A complain was on the tip of his tongue, but it didn't come to the light when his eyes glanced at your red bra being thrown on the ground.

"Sweetheart, let me see you, come on." He whimpers, pressing his teeth to his lip. If Dean couldn't touch you right way, he could at least see your wonderful body; perhaps even watch you play with yourself, while screaming his name.

Your answer came to the light in a soft hearted laughter. Dean winged his eyebrow, very well aware that wasn't your playful, teasing laughter.

You aligned the mobile once again, which focused mainly on your face, well fixed above your collarbone. Dean let out a frustrated sigh as your smiled devilish at him.

"Next time, you better tell me when you get stabbed and not make up excuses, Winchester. Then maybe you would get some tonight." You shrugged, enjoying the small pout on his lips. "You have to rest. Guess I'll go enjoy myself and imagine you here. I'm already wet anyway. See you tomorrow!"

" What the--" You hang up the phone without any further warning, leaving a incredulously surprised Dean Winchester glaring at his mobile as if it had just started flying across the room or anything extremely shocking. "WOMAN! COME BACK!"

Dean screamed at the phone as if it contained you. He tried to call you up a few times, but you just laughed about it from the bunker. Groaning, he stared at his semi erect and clothed member.

His phone made a noise again, indicating a new message. He leaned in and opened it as fast as humanly possible, only to let an exasperated howl escape again. You were one of a kind. Specifically, his kind.

Goodnight, babe. Try not to scream too loud when you are thinking about me and touching that delicious cock if yours. ;)

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wingsofkpop · 4 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.III: Don’t Bite and Tell

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, brief accounts of violence, practice of ritualistic and sacrificial magic, blood and slight gore, etc.

word count: 5,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

“I’ve encountered a couple hunters myself over the years, but never one who hunts and kills witches.” Mark watches Jinyoung pilfer through the scriptures him and the rest of his coven members managed to pull together after Youngjae’s reveal of a possible supernatural hunter in town. A murderous one, at that. Jinyoung skims through another page, before shaking his head, “The original supernatural hunters were created by witches to kill vampires… I don’t understand why one would specifically track down and murder covens? Nor how they have the power to do so?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out now.” With Jinyoung in tow, Mark heads toward the edge of the cemetery. The pair soon reach a small gazebo adorned with overgrown vines, where Youngjae and Jisung are sitting on the ground inside, herded around a large silver bowl, inside a tuft of dark hair and a special charm bracelet that belonged to Nayeon. Jisung holds a squirming black rat between his palms, while Youngjae proceeds to sharpen a silver dagger.

Mark turns back to Jinyoung, “We’re going to perform a spell to track whoever or whatever used dark magic to kill Nayeon.” The vampire nods in understanding, leaning against a pole supporting the top of the gazebo. Mark takes his place between the two witches before sending a white-faced Jisung a glance, “You okay? Or do you want me to do it?” Jisung immediately shoves the rat into his awaiting palms.

Mark takes the creature without a word, offering the youngest witch a soft glance. Once Jisung turns his head away, Mark quickly breaks the rat’s neck, internally wincing at the audible crackling of bones, and nods toward a waiting Youngjae. Youngjae slices open the belly of the rodent, causing warm blood to spill down Mark’s hands and into the silver bowl. Mark watches the bracelet and hair gradually bathe in the thick, red substance, before discarding the dead rat out of sight.

At a call of his name, Jisung returns to the triangle, appearing a bit sick, and joins his hands with Youngjae’s over the bowl while Mark cleans the remaining blood from his skin with a nearby handkerchief. Their clasped fingers immediately begin to glow, allowing both witches to finally begin the incantation:

“Inveniet hostium et tenebrae… Inveniet hostium et tenebrae…” Mark rises to stand beside Jinyoung as the two repeat the chant over and over again. However, his attention is stolen away at the loud, rather hateful call of his name. A sigh of annoyance slides from his lips at the sight of a fuming Minho storming toward the gazebo with a frantic Lia in tow. Mark bids Jinyoung a quick ‘be-right-back’ before hurrying over to the newcomers.

“You let that bloodsucking bastard onto our grounds again!?”

“I’m sorry, Mark! I tried to keep him distracted, but he saw our texts!” Mark waves away Lia’s worries and points her in the direction of the gazebo, leaving him alone with the red-faced, angry-browed witch.

Mark releases another sigh, “I know you’re upset—”

“Upset!? Oh, we’re way past that now…” Minho crosses his arms, “Not only do you completely ignore my warnings, but you go behind my fucking back!? Last I checked, I’m a part of this damn coven too.”

“I had no other choice, Minho. You made it very clear you weren’t on board with our plan—”

“And why should I be!?” He sneers, uncrossing his limbs to wave them at Mark in frustration. “When have the Primes ever done anything to deserve our allyship!? Much less our trust!? You of all people should understand that!”

“Until Nayeon’s killer is found, we are temporarily working with Jinyoung.” Mark pretends not to hear Minho’s last comment, choosing to hide his budding rage beneath a blank, emotionless frown. “He wants to help, okay? And I want to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that my people are safe.”

“They’re not just your people… and just because you think you’re all high and mighty for calling the shots doesn’t give you the right to overrule everyone else!”

“Are you seriously still on this bullshit?...”

Back when the coven was first formed, and before Jisung joined the path down witchhood, Mark, Nayeon, Youngjae, Minho and Lia all came to a consensus that the coven needed a leader. Mark was voted as such by the majority, which he knew, never sat well with Minho.

The younger witch shakes his head, “I’m just saying that you can be a little out of tact with your emotions when it comes to situations like this—”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Mark hisses, unable to hold back the floodgates of his own impending temper. Minho buries his face in his palms, murmuring nonsense while pacing back and forth. He resembles a mad-man, is Mark’s main thought, before he slowly removes his hands and murmurs:

“I’m only trying to prevent a repeat of what happened last time.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Mark growls, “Things are different now. We’re stronger.”

“You say that now, until another one of our people ends up dead.”

Mark frantically shakes his head, “Fucking hell, Minho! I’m doing the best I can here!”

“If you were, then Nayeon would still be alive right now.”

Minho spares one last glance at Mark before spinning on his heel and taking off into the direction he originally came. Mark calls his name, once, then twice, but Minho doesn’t slow his pace. With a heavy heart, Mark follows the younger witch’s form until he disappears behind the gate of the cemetery, leaving behind an even heavier feeling in Mark’s chest.

“Mark?” He inhales a deep breath before peering over his shoulder at Jinyoung. Inside the vampire’s black irises, Mark almost swears he can see a spark of sympathy, but waves it off as a trick of the sunlight.

Jinyoung gestures toward the gazebo, “They found a trace.” No sooner had the syllables left his lips, Mark is already beelining for the decorative structure. He enters to find the three remaining witches deep in discussion.

“What did you find?” Mark’s wave of elated hope expels from his veins at the note of Youngjae’s wide eyes and pursed lips. He glances between Lia and Jisung, but only receives the same disturbed expressions. He shakes his head, “What is it?...”

“It’s worse than we thought, hyung.”

“What do you mean ‘worse’?”

“The spell didn’t trace to the hunter, or an object like we thought—” Youngjae pauses to take a breath, clutching Nayeon’s bloody bracelet in the palm of his hand like a life line. “The one who performed dark magic on Nayeon-noona was another witch…”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “But that doesn’t make any sense? If Nayeon was killed by a supernatural hunter, there’s no way they can also be a—” Before he can finish his thought, the puzzle pieces thundering inside his mind immediately click into place. His jaw drops, but not as much as his heart, “...unless we’re not dealing with just a hunter.”

“A supernatural hunter and a powerful, traitor witch.” Lia groans, carding a hand through her already messy strands. “And to think things couldn’t get any fucking worse.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Vampires. Park Jinyoung.

Those two things have been haunting the forefronts of your thoughts ever since you saw them scrawled so neatly across that yellowed page. You tried to search for more information, more elaboration, more anything, in Mayor Bhuwakul’s recounts, but that specific entry was the last, and the rest of the journal was as blank as a cloudless blue sky. Except you aren’t enthused by this particular emptiness, in fact… you’re completely fucking terrified.

It doesn’t make any sense. The diary was written almost two and a half centuries ago, so there is no possible way that Jinyoung, and his so called brother, can still be alive. But then again, it does make sense. If Jinyoung and Jaebeom are vampires—

What are you even saying!? It’s not possible!

You curse at the countless articles about the Twilight book series that come up in the search results, having dealt with this same issue since you took to the internet to find more research. There’s another thing—vampires are fictional, just like witches and werewolves and all those monsters that go bump in the night. All those creatures are just made up fairy tales to scare young children… but then why are you the one quivering in your boots?

“Mrs. (L/N)?” You nearly flinch at the sound of your name, frantically moving to close the cover of your laptop. Your tension immediately releases at the sight of one of your students standing over your desk with an expression of confusion, “Sorry if I interrupted—”

“No, no. It’s nothing important.” You quickly say before sending the boy a pointed look, “And what have we talked about? Mrs. (L/N) makes me feel way too old. Call me (Y/N), please Hyunjin.”

“Sorry, (Y/N). I keep forgetting.” Hyunjin smiles sheepishly.

You shake your head with a chuckle, “What can I do for you, kiddo?”

“I’m confused about this assignment Professor Park gave us yesterday.” You take the thick packet that Hyunjin offers, skimming through the many pages as he continues to explain, “I get that he wants us to analyze different elements of the excerpt, but I don’t get exactly how I’m supposed to do that…”

“How to analyze the story?”

“How I figure out the right stuff to analyze.”

“Well, the thing about literature is that there’s no such thing as the ‘right stuff’ to analyze.” You meet Hyunjin’s gaze again, tapping the tab of your pen against the front of his assignment with a shrug. “You could read a story and feel one thing, but then I could read the same story and feel something completely different, and the author who wrote the story in the first place could have created it with a different intent than what both you and I got.

“Think about it like… eating an apple.” You hold up the apple you brought for lunch, “You can just eat it how it is, or peel off the skin and just eat the flesh, or even cut it and up and put it into a pie. There’s no one right way to eat it—” Hyunjin intently watches as you place the fruit back on your desk. “—it’s the same concept in analyzing literature. As long as you find some sort of meaning beneath the words, you’ve done your job.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).” You return Hyunjin’s smile as you hand him back his assignment. He tucks the paper into his messenger bag before nodding at the stack of papers on the edge of your deck, “Prof has you over your head in grading again?...”

“If you think this is bad, you should have seen what I had over the weekend.”

“He takes advantage of you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You guys all take advantage of me, and I’m not even your real professor.”

“Somedays I wish you were. I learn more from talking with you in five minutes than listening to Park’s ninety-minute long lectures.”

“Hate to tell you, you and your little entourage would get away with a hell of a lot less if I were in charge.” Your eyes shift toward the students lingering around the classroom, most either socializing or packing up some last minute supplies. You recognize Hyunjin’s group of friends waiting near the entrance, acknowledging their excited waves when they catch your gaze.

Hyunjin chuckles, his own gaze drifting down to the notebook laid open across the surface of your desk. His confused expression returns as he skims through your hastily written notes before you have the time to grab them from view, “Are you doing research on… vampires?”

“I-It’s for a, uh, a special project I’m working on for the university… about the town.”

“Moon Dye Bay does technically have a history of the supernatural—especially witches.” Hyunjin explains, “You know, if you’re looking for something, or someone specific, I would check out the archives in the Town Hall. They probably have a whole bunch of ancient stuff down there.”

Hyunjin’s advice sparks a multitude of new ideas within your brain: The archives probably date back to the beginning years of the town, meaning there has to be some account of residency in 1770. If you can find Jinyoung’s, or Jaebeom’s name, you’ll be one step closer to ending this ignorance… or one step closer to finding out a truth that could change your life forever.

“I—” You nod your head, “I might. Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t have passed this class last semester if it weren’t for you.”

A call of Hyunjin’s name snatches both the student’s and your attention. Hyunjin shouts a quick response back to his awaiting friends before offering you a sheepish smile, “I should get going before they come over here and drag me away, but thank you again, (Y/N).”

“Just make sure you get that assignment in on time, or it’s an automatic zero.”

Hyunjin throws both a radiant smile and a playful wink in your direction as he heads toward the exit, “See you next week, Ms. (L/N).”

“Call me that again and I’ll flunk your ass.” You shake your head and watch as Hyunjin, his friends and the remainder of the students filter out of the classroom, leaving you to your lonesome once again. With a heavy sigh, you bury your face in your palms, thumbing away the pain in your temples.

Even if you do manage to find answers, where are you supposed to go after the fact? If Jinyoung is a—is not human, then everything you’ve ever known and believed is just… gone. Turned into a dust like the ghost of a forest after a fire. If vampires are real, then what other monsters lurk in the shadows? What other monsters are here? In Moon Dye Bay?

...What kind of danger have you gotten yourself into?

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The taste of bourbon runs bitter along Jinyoung’s taste buds, only to travel smoothly down the length of his throat and settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. He lowers the crystal glass from his lips, licking away the remnants of alcohol that remain before gazing outside the large, rain-stained window. The silhouettes of foggy trees and foliage stare back, doing little to cure the racing of his thoughts.

A hunter and a witch working together to kill other witches… and to think that he had faced every type of enemy in the book.

Jinyoung has met thousands of witches over the years, some who were not too keen on working with others of their kind, but never one who actively goes around slaughtering other covens. It’s against the Balance of Nature for witches to murder witches. Then again, the practice of black magic is too… so why would a witch, who already has access to such power, strive to kill their own?... Less it be for more power. But even then, to steal another witch’s magic would require mass amounts of energy beyond energy.

And he’s only met one other witch who has been able to foster that much strength to do so.

Jinyoung releases a deep breath before taking another sip of his drink, welcoming the temporary calm it brings to his mind. He turns away from the window to head toward the desk in the corner of his bedroom while shrugging the suit jacket from his shoulders. After throwing the garment over the back of the chair and setting his cup down, Jinyoung unbuttons and rolls the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, providing some much needed cool relief to his bare skin. He presses his palms against the surface of the desk, leaning forward to stretch the tension from his arms.

He’s not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or the rain, but Jinyoung’s thoughts can’t help but shift to you for what seems like the millionth time in the past few days. Since your encounter a couple days prior, you always seem to make an appearance inside his head. It’s almost as if he can’t be rid of your face, your voice, your everything… not that he would ever want to. Especially since he made a pact to keep his distance—for your safety, and his sanity.

Jinyoung moves toward the bathroom while undoing his button up, ready to temporarily wash away the stress and concern of the crisis at hand, when his bedroom flies open with a loud crash. He barely has a second to process the entry before his body is shoved back against the wall, a pair of hands holding the collar of his now torn shirt and a pair of enraged eyes searing into his soul.

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “This was one of my favorite shirts, hyung.”

“You better have a good fucking excuse on why you’re hanging around with Tuan and his pathetic band of magicians?”

“Couldn’t you have asked without ruining my clothes?”

“Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung releases a sigh of exhaustion, quickly realizing that Jaebeom won’t unhand him without an answer.

“The coven is being targeted by a supernatural hunter and a witch. Their seer was killed last week.”

“So what? You suddenly care about a bunch of witches?”

“Mark and his coven are the reason we were allowed to remain in Moon Dye in the first place. If they die, do you really think the pack and the league will still let us stay?” Jinyoung shakes his head, carefully watching as Jaebeom paces toward the opposite end of his bedroom—his expression growing more and more infuriated. “Besides, I’m taking care of it.”

“You’re taking care of it? Really?” Jaebeom whirls around with a scoff, “Did it completely slip your mind that these are the same fuckers who tried to kill us to begin with? Tuan and his alpha wolf bitch?”

“I’m just ensuring our peaceful livelihood here, hyung.” Jinyoung stands his ground, calmly staring at his companion. “You may not care, and you may not like it, but frankly, I love this town, and I want to stay—it’s our home for goodness sake.”

“You’re playing with goddamn fire, Jinyoung. Do you really think they’ve let go of the fact that we killed—”

“For fucksake, Jaebeom!” Jaebeom’s expression falters at Jinyoung’s sudden outburst and lack of honorifics. The younger of the pair tugs at the roots of his scalp before heaving an audible sigh of exhaustion, “I’m too tired to fight with you. Please—just trust me when I say that I am taking care of it.”

Jaebeom shakes his head, “How many times have I told you not to fuck around with witch business? Do you remember what happened the last time you—?”

“I’m tired, hyung.” Jinyoung shrugs off Jaebeom’s starting-attempts-at-an-argument along with his torn shirt. He feels Jaebeom’s gaze following his near-to-bare form as he enters the bathroom, throwing one last comment over his shoulder, “And last I remember, you killed Jackson Wang. Not me.”

Jinyoung doesn’t spare another glance at Jaebeom’s expression and shuts the door, cursing the fact that he forgot to grab his bourbon.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” Jihyo carefully maneuvers her belongings onto one arm, utilizing the other to open the front door with some amount of struggle. “Sana’s boss is making her work overtime too, so I’ll just hang out here with Momo and Mina tonight.”

“Yeah, I got her text.” Carefully shutting the obstacle with her foot, Jihyo continues deeper into the apartment, pausing every now and then to stabilize the phone on her shoulder. She manages to make it into the kitchen without any accident, heaving the Chinese take-out up on the countertop with a relieved sigh. “I shouldn’t be long. I just have to take care of some last minute stuff for Park.”

“Just do what you need to do.” Jihyo quickly adds, “And please, for my sake, take a goddamn Uber home.”

Your chuckle carries over the line, “You got it, Mom.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N). With my luck, you’ll land your ass in the hospital again.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Jihyo tosses her purse on a nearby table before running her fingers through her hair, offering a small smile to Momo who suddenly emerges from the living room. She nods, “See you in the morning then.”

“Yep. Night, babe.”

At your goodbye, Jihyo hangs up the call and deposits her phone beside her purse. She moves to unpack the bags as Momo approaches, throwing a sheepish grin toward the newcomer, “It looks like it’s just gonna be you, Mina and I tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Momo hums, her gaze remaining on Jihyo as she goes about grabbing plates and utensils from various cupboards. Jihyo can’t help but shudder from the intensity of her hawk-like stare, but chooses to stay silent while laying out the food. Even then, her skin still continues to crawl, especially when Momo begins to mumble to herself.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” Jihyo turns at a particular murmur, tilting her head at her blonde companion. To Jihyo’s surprise, Momo doesn’t answer, but steps closer, practically caging Jihyo in the tiny kitchenette. Jihyo finds herself anxious at the lack of space. “Wh-What are you—?”

“You can see the tattoo.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Cause I think you do.”

Jihyo shakes her head, “It was honestly just a mis-misunderstanding—”

“Look again.”

“I really—”

“Look. Again.”

The rational part of Jihyo’s brain yells at her to flee from the scene, disliking the borderline sinister expression graced along Momo’s features. However, her curiosity seizes the remainder of her self-control:

She lowers her gaze to Momo’s right arm, finding the same dark, supposedly imaginary ink patterned in various elements: Jagged tree branches, illegible symbols, and compass needles pointing in an unknown direction.

“What do you see?”

“I-I don’t know.” Jihyo presses herself as close to the edge of the counter as she can, faltering beneath Momo’s still approaching form. “I see a tattoo, but-but that’s not possible—”

“Wrong.” She gasps at Momo’s harsh grip on her arm, “You can see it… because you’re just like me.”

“What are you even talking about? Momo, this is—”

“It’s just like I said,” Jihyo’s mouth snaps open as her companion releases her hand to poke the back of her hand, causing the inked needle to spin right there across her skin. She doesn’t know how it’s possible, but somewhere deep inside her gut—Jihyo knows everything is real.

“You’re a hunter too.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

There was once a time Jaebeom remembers where him and Jinyoung used to be close—a time where they used to be true brothers. The kind that were there for each other. The kind that fought side by side no matter the enemies who awaited on the other side. The kind that didn’t keep secrets from one another. Jaebeom would never admit it aloud, but sometimes he finds himself missing those days—missing Jinyoung.

A part of him knows he’s the reason for the distance that has wedged between them, but even so, Jaebeom is too pig-headed to willingly accept all the blame, more so since Jinyoung has burned his own fair share of bridges in their various lifetimes together. Some far worse than what Jaebeom has thought of doing.

Jaebeom never truly intends to hurt Jinyoung. He just gets so angry, and when Jaebeom is angry… he becomes very, very hungry.

And you just happen to be right there, walking through the doors of the Town Hall and into the greedy shadows of the night. The moonlight bathes across your skin, practically illuminating your body for his benefit. Jaebeom knows he shouldn’t—knows that Jinyoung may hate him forever—but just as with everything else, Jaebeom chooses not to care.

You’re being careful, he quickly notices, between the hesitant steps you take and the careful eye you keep over your shoulder. The knowledge only strengthens Jaebeom’s bloodlust. He can’t help but imagine how your blood will taste… Will it be sweet like honey? Or savory like a freshly-grilled piece of meat? His mouth waters in anticipation as he slinks closer and closer toward you. Like a predator rounding in on his prey.

Thanks to his inhuman speed and strength, it only takes Jaebeom seconds to immobilize and press you against the nearest secluded wall where even the brightest rays of the moon can’t reach. The scream you attempt to release is muffled beneath his palm, while his other hand busies itself with revealing the delectable skin of your throat. Your scent hits him like a pile of bricks, and it’s unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He grows frenzied, almost deranged by the fragrance, desperately craving more and more.

He easily counters your thrashes and squirms against his hold, practically suffocating your figure with his own. Feeling the thread bearing his self-control slowly splintering, Jaebeom parts his lips, runs his tongue across the pointed tips of his fangs and prepares to guzzle the pain away, when your voice slips into his ears:

“Don’t do this, please…”

He makes the mistake of meeting your gaze. All at once, Jaebeom can sense the tidal waves of your fear, your passion, your will to live just in the glittering rings of your eyes. It leaves him breathless, no longer controlled by his need to feed, and instead, floating amongst his own disarrayed thoughts and pent-up emotions that he only experiences when he chooses to embrace his humanity.

“Jaebeom…”

You know his name—

Jaebeom realizes at once he can’t do this—he can’t hurt you. Not when you’re looking at him with those eyes and speaking to him with that voice. No matter how intoxicating your aroma. He won’t hurt you.

Jaebeom grabs your chin with near-to-trembling fingers and leans closer until the tip of his nose barely grazes along yours. In a hushed, yet stern tone, he murmurs, “You’re going to walk home and forget any of this ever happened. You never saw me… Understand?”

“I—” He watches your eyes widen, “I understand.”

Jaebeom doesn’t stay to check the result of his compulsion, quickly stepping away from your body and dashing far, far away from that alleyway. He doesn’t stop even when he’s thousands of miles away from Moon Dye Bay, trying to escape this spell you cast over his mind. But no matter how much distance he covers, Jaebeom can’t outrun the lingering ghost of your gaze…

Jaebeom can’t outrun how, in that brief moment, you made him feel so completely human.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I just don’t get how someone could do something like this.” Mark nods in agreement at Youngjae’s statement, watching his younger counterpart take a sip of his luke-warm coffee from his perch behind the lectern. “I mean, why take all these innocent lives—witches or not?”

“Some people are just… fucked up, I guess.”

“I don’t believe that.” Youngjae shakes his head, thumbing thoughtfully at the arm of his mug. “There has to be a reason, hyung. People aren’t just—born evil.”

Deep down, Mark knows Youngjae is right, but he can’t find it in himself to reply, silently continuing to flip through the old spellbook in his own grasp. This particular text has been in his family for generations upon generations. It was given to him by his mother soon after his magic began to flourish—the last gift he received before her death.

Due to the Tuan ancestral bloodline’s specialization in spellcasting, this book contains almost every spell known to witch-kind. He’s used its contents to defeat threats in various situations—this time should be no different. At least, he hopes so.

“If we have any chance at winning this fight, our best bet would be to take out the witch first.” Mark carries the large book toward the table where Youngjae is sat, setting the pages out for both of them to see. “I’m thinking we can halt their magic flow somehow, so there’s no way them or their partner can touch us—”

“So like a halting spell? Or a disruption spell?”

Mark shakes his head, “A simple halting spell won’t work. Not if they’re practicing black magic.”

“But what if we could pull enough power of our own?” Youngjae inquires, “I mean, with you, me, Lia, Jisung and Minho, shouldn’t that be enough to overpower their source?”

“Not necessarily.” Mark sighs, “Black magic is… complicated, but powerful. Depending on what or who exactly our witch is drawing from, we could be easily killed—especially if that is what they’re aiming for.”

“Right. Have you… heard from Minho? Since earlier?”

“No.”

Youngjae hums at Mark’s haughty answer, watching silently as the older continues to flip through the giant book. Upon reaching a certain page, Mark halts and angles his findings to better show the younger witch.

“We may be able to link their dark magic to something, like an object or even something alive. It wouldn’t necessarily block it, but if we channel it elsewhere, it could at least give us enough time to incapacitate them?”

“Will Jinyoung be able to take on both the hunter and the witch?”

“I don’t know.” Mark’s teeth sink into his bottom lips, his thoughts feverishly racing at Youngjae’s observation. An idea pops into his mind—one that replenishes a forgotten ache in his heart. Casting away the sinking feeling in his gut, Mark says, “The pack… might be able to.”

“Hyung…” Youngjae offers a sympathetic look that makes Mark’s gut lurch, “I don’t know if that’s a good id—”

Youngjae’s voice is cut off by the sudden slam of the mausoleum door, opening to reveal a dark silhouette emerging from the black of night. With Youngjae at his side, Mark immediately rises at the intrusion, preparing for a possible fight, but quickly relaxes when he realizes the identity of the abrupt visitor:

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here—?”

“Save it!” Mark almost reels back at the amount of pure venom laced in your tone, growing more and more confused at the blend of animosity, desperation and what seems to be betrayal, written across your face. “You better have a good fucking excuse for lying to me all these goddamn months, Tuan!”

“What are you talking about? (Y/N)—?”

“I’m talking about the fact that Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebeom are fucking vampires!” Mark’s blood runs cold at your response. At your next words, though he can’t see himself, Mark knows his face flushed as white as a ghost:

“And you—you’re a witch, Mark.”

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constitutionalweasleymonarchy · 4 years

Note

hi!! so glad i found your tumblr, i read your fics and loved them! especially "one of arthurs boys' im obsessed :) For some reason I really loved the scene with charlie and the girl!! just a question: do you know any writers like you? Im basically searching for more weasley family and especially percy stuff haha

Hi! I’m sorry it took me a while to reply -- it’s been a busy week. Thank you so much for your comments. I’m really happy to know you’ve been enjoying Must Be One of Arthur’s Boys -- it’s become very dear to me.

So, Weasley fic recs! Here are several, and if I know myself I know I’m inadvertently leaving out a lot of wonderful writers and fics, but I’ll do my best to recollect my favorites. (Percy recs at the end because I have a few specific ones.)

MOLLY/ARTHUR and NEXT GEN:

First of all, one of my OG inspirations and fave writers is the author startwearingpurple+ on AO3 (but she went by momotwins and WeasleyTwinMom on the old HPFF site). Many years ago she wrote a novel called The Unsinkable Molly Prewett+, which blossomed into a whole Molly/Arthur series+ that includes not only Molly/Arthur fics but also some wonderful stories fleshing out her OC’s from Unsinkable. Molly/Arthur is a woefully underdone ship, but to be honest it’s hard to compete with hers! I have basically accepted her Molly and Arthur as canon, and it made my own Arthur-centric fic that much more challenging because I had to make sure I wasn’t just co-opting her headcanons. Unsinkable is fabulously fluffy, and its sequel and other associated works are a bit more mature but also delightfully romantic. I swoon so hard for her Arthur, I love the depiction of 1960′s Hogwarts and magical Britain, and her OC’s are beautifully characterized as well.

Startwearingpurple also writes a bunch of next gen Weasleys as part of her Rose Weasley: Bounty Hunter series+, and I recommend those, as well! (Dad!Percy makes a few appearances in her Molly- and Lucy-centric fics.)

AND, bonus, since you like Arthur’s Boys, she has written a missing moment/ companion one-shot to my Ginny-centric chapter in that fic -- her one-shot is titled Permission+ and it’s lovely!

ALL WEASLEYS, including PERCY and RON:

I would be remiss if this list didn’t include FloreatCastellum @floreatcastellumposts, who has authored an impressive number of canon-compliant fics, many of which are Weasley-centric -- especially their Slice of Life One-Shots+, which concern the lives of canon characters, post-canon and into the next generation. But they also have a Missing Moments series+ set during canon events, and they really nail the characterization of (as far as I can tell) everybody. I haven’t read all of them, but I particularly enjoyed a couple of Ron-centric one-shots, Envy and I Have Seen Your Heart. They’ve got a couple of Percy-centric fics, as well. Their writing retains the style and charm of the source texts.

MOAR RONNIEKINS!

Cambangst+ is an exceptional writer, and his stuff isn’t necessarily Weasley-centric, but what I do want to comment on is his fantastic treatment of Ron. Specifically, I have been following his most recent novel After Destiny+, which is only published at HPFanficTalk. It’s about all the main characters -- most specifically the trio + Ginny -- moving forward in the immediate aftermath of Deathly Hallows. Let’s be real, canon Ron can be difficult to write, and so many people make him into a caricature of himself (even if they mean to portray him positively), but cambangst is not only fair to Ron by respecting his character and acknowledging his strengths -- he also recognizes and depicts Ron’s flaws and weaknesses, but not in an overblown way. He retains that sympathetic and relatable quality that always endeared Ron to me. Cambangst also writes a fantastic Bill.

WEASLEY TWINS:

1917farmgirl+ is a lover of the Weasley twins, and I’d recommend taking a look at any of her stuff, but especially The Ungrateful Dead+ and Passports Required+, which are wonderfully clever and original and will leave you with the best kind of Fred-related heartache.

PERCY (my love, my life, perfectly imperfect in every way):

As for Percy, I’ve come across a few specific works that I really love. Right now off the top of my head I can’t think of many other writers who have a large body of Percy-centric work, but I can definitely get you started with a few specific fic recs (I also must admit to you that I don’t read nearly as much fic as I would like, especially when I’m on a roll with writing, so I myself am always down to receive Percy fic recs!):

Percy Take the Wheel+ by KittySmith @corwynnasmith -- I hate to say that I am not nearly as far into reading this as I would like to be, but the chapters I have read, I’ve loved. It’s a sad premise, but a wonderful portrait of the Weasley kids and their dynamics, featuring a three-dimensional Percy solidly based in his canon characterization. The love and respect the author has for Percy really come through in this.

Scorose+ has written a few Percy/Audrey fics, and I especially adored An Old English Tradition+, which features a lovably dorky Percy stuck under some mistletoe.

Reflector+ by Calebski -- Okay, I’m a Ron/Hermione shipper deep in my soul, and this is a Percy/Hermione, but damned if it isn’t a gorgeous romance (more gentle, quiet romances, please!) and a thoughtful, compelling characterization of Percy in love and finding his way in life.

Sinnersandsapphics has a series featuring (among other characters) bi and poly Percy, called the Polyverse+ on AO3, except over at HPFanficTalk she has posted additional Percy-centric fics and renamed it Percycule+. Her fics are thoughtful and funny, and her Percy is delightful and shipped with both Oliver and Audrey. He features in What Landon and Peters Missed, Odd Weasley Out (on hiatus but hopefully she’ll update soon!), and The Healing of Alicia Spinnet.

I’ll reblog and add more recs if any others come to me! Thank you for giving me this opportunity to shout about wonderful writers and spread the Weasley love. <3

#hp fic rec #weasley family #weasley fanfiction #percy weasley #ron weasley #hp fanfic #weasley twins #percy x audrey #percy x oliver #ron x hermione #percy x hermione #fred weasley #arthur weasley #arthur x molly #hp next gen #poly ship

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writingfromkitchenator · 3 years

Text

The Demon, The Hunter, and The Halfblood

Masterlist

Crowley x Original Female Character

Chapters: One

Series Warnings: A/B/O series, some Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha x Omega, obligatory smut warning here (as usual, no under 18′s please, specifics will be within chapter warnings as needed), violence, blood, fluff, angst, major character death, possession, swearing

Chapter 2

Words: 2,742

Madelyn was furious, and if there was one thing that no one ever wanted to do, it was piss off an Omega, especially when they were a hunter.

These demons were going to get what was coming for them. It wasn’t the first one’s she’d dealt with and she doubted it was going to be her last.

Her teeth bared in the dark, eyes watching at the several demons patrolling, her hand lose on the angel blade in her hand, trying to work through her anger on what was going to be the best way to deal with this. She’d managed to kill two of the ones that had entered her home, but these were the ones that had gotten away, and gotten away with something that Madelyn cared about deeply.

She could be angry at herself and Crowley later for this happening. For now, she had to focus on them.

Two demon voices reach her and she looks over at them from where she was currently hiding.

“Why aren’t we just using ‘em against Crowley now?” One asked. “Surely one’s enough?”

“Come on dude, surely you know that the more we have on Crowley, the better. If those idiots inside hadn’t fucked it up so bad, we wouldn’t need to be so on guard with this.” The other said coldly. “I wouldn’t have thought it would be that hard to capture a hunter and a kid.”

Madelyn’s eyes flash and she creeps forward, being careful not to be seen. She hadn’t spent all her life hunting to be taken down by a couple of demons, especially when she had a few tricks of her own now.

The two guards didn’t know what hit them, her blade moving fast and silently, igniting them both from within and leaving them as nothing but cold corpses on the ground. Those two were pointless, the ones she was really interested in were the ones inside.

The ones that had her daughter.

Crowley had been overdue, Madelyn getting increasingly worried. She’d been about to text him when the demons had somehow gotten around all the defences set up, and that was when she’d told her to run.

Madelyn had fought, and as she’d fought, she’d heard a scream, a scream that no mother wanted to hear. With terror, she’d realised that she had run to her safe space, her room, and the demons had found her.

The demons were quick to leave, leaving the ones that Madelyn had killed, and she’d spent the last several hours tracking them down to here.

Now the demons were going to pay.

Breaking into the building felt too easy, as did silently moving through the halls, but the closer she got, the more she knew that this was going to end right now, one way or another.

They knew she’d be coming, if they were any sort of smart, they would’ve suspected that she’d be coming with Crowley, but from what she could tell, they were barely any sort of prepared. Clearly they were as half brained as Crowley always made out.

There was another demon in the hallway and her angel blade launched and lodged in his throat before he could make a noise, dropping quickly to the ground. Madelyn took the blade with hardly a thought and burst into the next room.

“Mummy!” Casey screamed from a chair in the middle of the room.

Madelyn didn’t have a chance to respond to her, several demons launching at her at once, and with a furious growl, Madelyn didn’t hesitate to engage.

The first one went down easily, making the mistake of trying to get to her alone, the next closest two learnt from the first, taking her on at once. Madelyn was fast, and the blade moved easily in her hand, but what gained her the real advantage was the immunity to a third demons power.

She couldn’t help it, shooting him a grin as he tried again and again to throw her across the room only for nothing to happen.

Her body took a few hits, especially as the third finally decided to give up and charge into help, but she didn’t waste time, slitting the throat of one of the original two, letting them drop, her gun came out and shot the other, staggering them back and giving her enough time to brace for the third.

Except he was better, he caught her movement as she went to stab him, moved out of the way of her gun as she fired and sent it flying from her hands.

Madelyn cursed as she was grabbed from behind, the other demon having recovered, and for the briefest of moments her grip loosened just a little too much on her angel blade, allowing the other demon to take it.

Her head cracked back into the demon behind her, smashing his nose in a shower of blood, making him scream, but he doesn’t let go. The other demon came back in with the blade, aiming for her stomach, and she just managed to grab his hand, stopping it just short.

A brief standstill came to pass as Madelyn struggles to both hold back the angel blade and to fight against the one still holding her.

She might have had some extra skills at her disposal, but that wasn’t always useful.

The blade slipped forward and Madelyn barely held back a grunt of pain as the blade began to sink into her stomach.

“Mummy no!” Casey shouted and then a high pitched scream left her.

The effect on the demons was instantaneous, the three remaining in the room, the third by Casey’s chair, all covering their ears to try and block out the child’s scream. Madelyn let out a breath, feeling the echo of power, the scream hurting her ears but not debilitating her.

She pulled the blade free from her stomach and made short work of the distracted demons. Three quick movements and the demons dropped dead, and Madelyn hurried to Casey.

“Casey. Casey!” She said loudly, dropping to her knees in front of her, trying to get her to stop. “It’s okay baby, they’re all gone.”

Casey stopped and instantly started to sob, throwing her arms around Madelyn, who pulls her close. “They hurt you!”

“I’ll be okay,” Madelyn said, quickly picking her up, ignoring the burning pain from her stomach. “I can sort that out later, we just need to get somewhere safe.”

“Where’s Daddy?” Casey asked, her voice trembling through the sobs.

“I don’t know baby, but we’re going to find him okay?” Madelyn does a quick scan around outside, making sure that there aren’t any more demons. “We just may need some help to do that.”

Madelyn broke into the first car she found, quickly getting Casey securely into the back seat, telling her to get some sleep while she drove. Before she jumped in herself, she removed the jacket she had on and tied it as best she could around the still bleeding wound in her stomach. If she didn’t have Casey with her, she would’ve gotten herself to a hospital, or even stitched the wound over herself, but right now, getting Casey to safety was top of the priority list.

Darkness seemed to give away to dawn far too quickly for Madelyn’s taste, tiredness setting in over her, mixed with exhaustion and blood loss from the fight. She knew that there wasn’t far to go, but she also knew that the daylight made them more exposed.

She wasn’t looking forward to the coming explanation either, but she hoped they could hold from that until she at least found Crowley.

Bobby’s house hadn’t changed as she pulled up as close as she dared, the sun still rising in the early morning. She sat back and drew in a couple of deep breathes, not really knowing where else to go, and for a moment she glanced back at Casey still sleeping in the backseat.

After all this time, she didn’t have any other choice.

Sighing, she struggles her way out of the car, the wound burning away and her vision swayed for a moment. She was cutting this far too close for her liking, but she struggled up the stairs anyway.

Madelyn knocked on the door. “Bobby?”

She knew that he would likely react with all sorts of tests, but she hoped the bleeding wound in her side would also put a stop to that.

It was hard to tell who was more surprised when the door opened however, Sam staring a little open mouthed at her. “Maddie?”

Madelyn smiled weakly at him, even as there was crash from another room. “Hey Sammy, don’t suppose you want to help your sister out after all this time?”

Sam caught her as she stumbled forward, his expression instantly turning grim at the sight of the blood and then the wound. Dean’s anger followed him to the door, but died instantly when he saw her pale expression.

“Holy shit Maddie, who the hell have you been fighting?” Dean said, taking her other arm as they half carried her into the lounge.

“Just the usual demons,” She said, giving half a laugh as they sat her down, Sam hurrying off to find a med kit. “One of them got lucky with an angel blade. Can’t say it’s a fun thing to be stabbed with.”

Dean grimaces, keeping pressure on the wound until Sam got back. “You better go wake Bobby.”

“Before you do,” Madelyn lets out a low hiss as Sam pulls her jacket and shirt away from the wound. “I don’t suppose one of you’d care to go and get the little girl out of the backseat? I can’t imagine how she’d respond to waking up alone.”

Sam and Dean shared a look that Madelyn missed, her eyes jammed shut from the pain, but Dean nods. “Yeah…sure.”

A little while later, Dean comes back in with Casey in his arms, her black hair mused from sleep and rubbing her tired green eyes, quickly finding Madelyn.

“Mummy?” Her voice trembled a little and she started to squirm in Dean's arms.

Madelyn quickly hid the pain in her face but held up a hand to stop her. “Hey baby, it's okay, I'm going to be okay, you just have to stay with Uncle Dean there for a little, alright?”

Casey stops squirming and blinks at her, looking to Sam, then Dean, and then Bobby as he entered and froze in the doorway, wondering what the noise was.

“Casey,” Madelyn drew her gaze back to her. “Do you remember me telling you about Uncle Dean, Uncle Sam and Uncle Bobby? Do you remember what I said?”

Her bottom lip trembles a bit, but she nods. “You...you said I'd be safe with them.”

“That's my girl,” Madelyn smiles at her, ignoring the pain from the wound as Sam does his best to clean it. “”You're such a smart girl.”

Casey sniffs. “Where's Daddy?”

Madelyn didn't miss the shared looks between Sam, Dean and Bobby. “I don't know baby, we'll sort that out when Uncle Sam's got me all patched up, okay?”

She nods, but still looks unsure.

Madelyn glances over at Bobby. “Uncle Bobby, you have eggs?”

Bobby finally seems to move, frowning at her. “Yeah?”

Madelyn smiles. “Do you think you could cook Casey up some scrambled eggs for breakfast? It’s been a while since she’s eaten.”

He blinks for a moment but then his expression softens on the little girl in Dean's arms. “Yeah…I can do that. You want to come with me sweetie?”

Bobby holds out his arms for Casey, who looks at him for a moment before going to him, quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Madelyn lets out a sigh and her expression screws up in pain.

Sam watches her, worried, but keeps cleaning over the wound. “How old is she?”

Her eyes shut. “Not longed turned four.”

“Four?” Dean cut in first before Sam can say anything. “You have a four year old daughter and you didn't think-" He cuts himself off, the anger returning to his expression. “Screw that! You've been alive all this time and you didn't think to tell us!?”

Madelyn opens one eye to peak at him, unperturbed. “I had my reasons Dean, and in all honesty, I'd prefer it if you go let Crowley out of whatever hole you've put him in first before I offer any sort of explanation.”

Dean's expression darkened. “What makes you even think we have that slimy bastard? Are you seriously telling me that that little girl in there is half demon?”

Scoffing, but then thinking better of it because of the pain, Madelyn rolls her eyes. “I know all of your tells. You were all very quick to react when she mentioned her father, and I figured by your other reactions that you'd already put two and two together. As for the half demon thing, and please keep your voice down about it, we don't need the whole world knowing and we don't want to scare her any more than she is. I would've thought that would be obvious.”

Sam cut over Dean then, quickly breaking the tension building in the room. “Maddie, we need to get you to a hospital.”

Madelyn shakes her head. “No can do, Sam, with angels and demons hunting her, I can't take that risk. They'll keep me in there longer than I can be.”

“The wound is too deep-"

“Patch it as best you can, my body will do the rest.” Madelyn waves a hand. “As long as I'm not bleeding anymore, that's all that matters.”

Sam still looked at her concerned, glancing at Dean, but it was clear that nothing was going to change about the situation any time soon. Sighing, he pulls out a needle and a thread and started to stitch the wound together.

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” Dean asked coldly. “How can you even just lie there like nothing has changed?”

“My previous comment about Crowley still stands.” Madelyn said, her eyes drifting shut again. “And I do suggest letting him out before a half demonic four year old learns that you've been keeping her father prisoner.”

“No,” Dean said before Sam could say anything. “He owes us answers.”

“He owes you squat Dean, and I promise you she will tear this house apart if she finds out.”

“Can we just cut the shit, please.” Sam said firmly, glaring between the two of them. “None of this is going to help either of us get what we want.”

“But-"

“Go take a walk Dean,” Sam said, a little angrily. “Go and cool off for a few minutes. We hardly need a fight in front of Casey.”

Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times before he rolled his eyes and huffed, storming away.

“Good to see not much has changed.”

Sam shot her a look before going back to stitching the wound. “You certainly don't help.”

“Well, we can't all be winners.” Madelyn sighs, the pain still clear on her face as Sam finishes but it's clear it's somewhat eased. “So why do you have Crowley here? I'm trying not to be mad over what I've just been through with Casey, so an answer would be nice.”

Sam places gauze over the wound. “We're trying to find out how to remove something Crowley helped Dean get. He mightn't have answers directly, but he might know someone who does.”

“Hmm?” Madelyn opens her eyes again to look at him, a slight frown creasing her brow. “You're talking about the Mark of Cain right? And Rowena, charming mother in law she is too, but I can promise Crowley's been looking for her too, much as I disagree.”

“You...you know all about it?”

“Of course I do,” Madelyn shifts and sits up, holding her side for a moment and letting out a slow breath. “Or did you real think Crowley wouldn't keep me up to date on my brother's? Although, I usually have to work through the smart arse comments.”

Sam watches as she stands, draws in a deep breath, and make her way into the kitchen, the pain dying before she came into view of Casey. “You enjoying your breakfast?”

A worrying feeling was starting in the back of his mind, but he just wasn't overly sure how to deal with it.

#supernatural #the demon the hunter and the halfblood #crowley #crowley x original female character #long fic #fic series #crowley fridays #sister winchester #alpha x omega #a/b/o

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bijoharvelle · 4 years

Text

it’s the ‘dean definitely has ptsd’ deancasbenny thing i’ve been promising! just, like, soft domestic DCB. warnings: ptsd & anxiety related mutism, nightmares mentioned

Some days, Dean doesn’t talk. It’s the halfway point between won’t and can’t – Benny can never be sure which side it lingers closer to.

Either way, when Dean startles awake, eyes darting, the only noise he makes is the harsh push-pull of air through his chest. Benny chants a quiet, “Hey, hey…” and puts a hand through Dean’s hair. In the artificial predawn, Dean looks around like he expects to be alone, or expects to be somewhere else. Part of the kink in his spine soothes at Benny’s touch, but not all of it.

Between them, Cas sleeps like the dead. (On his own, the angel won’t stir for hours. Benny generally loiters in bed for an hour or so before getting up. He’s teased Cas and Dean about it before, says he has a whole day, practically, before either of them pull themselves awake.) Dean shivers, crushes himself further into Cas, closer to Benny.

The unfortunate thing with Dean’s life (with all of their lives) is that it could be any number of things. Hell coming back to haunt him? The time he spent locked away while Michael ran point? The time he spent fighting every minute to keep Michael cordoned off? Building his own water-proof coffin? That stretch of him as a demon? Any number of childhood traumas coming out to play? Knuckles painted with Sam’s blood, with Cas’s, with his own, Benny’s arterial spray Pollocking over his face? Frankly, Benny thinks they’re lucky it manifests as nothing more than a few days of selective mutism, a Dean that’s a little more touch-hungry than usual.

After a minute of Benny humming quietly, pretending it’s not to give Dean something solid to focus in on, Dean shifts. He carefully uncurls from Cas, levies his weight, fits himself between Benny’s legs and presses the whole of their chests together. Cas makes a snuffling noise into the pillow, adjusting to the loss of body heat, and Benny lays one big, warm hand directly center of Dean’s back. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Dean hides his face into Benny’s shoulder and Benny lets him.

The better part of an hour passes that way.

Benny eventually climbs out of bed. By turns, he coaxes Dean to stay there a little longer and jostles Cas awake. The angel shoots him a look brimming with piss and vinegar until he clues into the way Dean is holding onto his wrists, the way Dean’s eyes won’t quite focus. Benny doesn’t amble out to the kitchen until Cas is fully alert and muttering Poco lyrics into the creases over Dean’s forehead. They share a look over the mussy peaks of Dean’s soft bedhead and Benny circles back to press his nose into Cas’s temple.

Sam makes an appearance about halfway through Benny’s breakfast preparations. He always, somehow, knows. Benny has tried to figure it out -- is it the weather or the cast of the moon or some shift in the atmosphere? But there’s nothing to track. Maybe it’s just from the puzzle-piecing of their families trauma, maybe it’s some pluck on the threads of their brotherly bond, maybe Dean feels it coming and gives Sam a heads-up. Either way, like always, Sam fusses with the coffee pot for a minute and then sighs, loosens the hinges of his shoulders and looks over to Benny.

“Is he okay?” he asks and his voice is rough and worn like he hasn’t gotten enough sleep, or has gotten too much (it’s a fine line for the younger Winchester).

Benny nods, whistles a low tone. Says, “He’s with Cas; he’s all right.”

Sam nods and gets through preparing the coffee. He watches a minute as Benny cooks, a little bleary around the edges. It’s not expectant, his gaze, but Benny shoves the first plate of food into Sam’s hand and directs him to sit down and eat it, before he collapses. Sam finds a genuine, if tired, smile at that and does as he’s told.

Not much later, Cas and Dean shuffle in, Dean following in Cas’s shadow, one hand just trailing along the hem of Cas’s flannel. Once they clear the threshold, though, Cas immediately goes for the coffee and Dean immediately goes for Benny.

“Heya, cher,” he greets low, putting a gentle hand to Dean’s waist, just for a moment. Behind them, Cas and Sam’s voices drone about translations they want to get done that day. Dean stays close -- his hair has been smoothed, by Cas’s hands if Benny had a guess. He tips a hand through the back of it and asks, “Would you get me some coffee?”

Dean does as he’s asked and when he hands a mug over to Benny, he has one for himself in his hands. He watches, silent and crowded into himself, as Benny finishes off two more plates. Handing them over to Dean, he tells him sternly, “One of those is for you, got it?” Dean nods, manages half a smile. He slinks to the table and slides one of the plates to Cas, comes back for his coffee, and then sits in front of the other.

Sam asks if Dean wants to help him and Cas with their research. Normally, it’s a question that doesn’t need asking -- of course Dean doesn’t want to help with research. Especially when they don’t have a case, when Sam and Cas are just doing their codexing, translating thing. But days like this, Dean is happy to have a place between his brother and his angel, specific tasks that he can see the other side of, that he can complete successfully. Getting coffee, delivering a plate of food, fetching books, looking up references.

So Dean just finds his brother’s eyes and nods and sets about eating his breakfast.

Superhuman strength means there isn’t much need for training, but the routine of it is close to meditation for Benny. He’s so far into his own mind, and Cas steps so softly, that Benny doesn’t notice Cas’s presence until he’s standing right next to his bench in what passes for the bunker’s weight room.

“Personal space,” Benny teases, a joke he wrung dry from Dean. Sitting up, he catches Cas between his knees and presses his face into the former-angel’s stomach. Cas keeps one hand on Benny’s shoulder, gentle, while the other tucks up through his hair.

“Where’re the Winchesters?” Benny asks, not pulling away so his voice is muffled. His arms tighten around Cas’s waist, holding him close so he can nose along the span of his torso, tip his face to trail toward his chest.

“Into town. One of the texts reminded Sam about strawberry rhubarb pie and they went to get ingredients.”

“Weren’t y’all reading about witchcraft?” Benny asks, leaning back to pass a quizzical look up.

Cas looks just as incredulous but it melts to a smile. “Yes. I stopped being surprised about their associations awhile back, though.”

Benny grins and nips playfully at Cas, getting more shirt than anything else. “Fair enough.” He lets Cas scritch fingers through his hair, sighing at how good it feels, how Cas goes against the grain. “How’s our boy doing?”

Cas makes an elegant gesture with his shoulders that’s half-shrug and would be half the spread of wings, if he still had them. “Well enough, I think. Still…” He waves a hand to indicate the general circumstances. “But he seemed enthused at the prospect of pie, when Sam brought it up.”

“Dean Winchester excited by pie, news at eleven,” Benny jokes. Cas gives an amused huff that isn’t quite a laugh. Benny stands, then, crowding into Cas’s space and pressing their bodies together. “Y’know what we haven’t done in a minute? Spar.”

There’s a dangerous look to Cas’s eyes because he’s human now and Benny is decidedly not. Cas is not lightweight when it comes to hand-to-hand but still. He blinks up at Benny but all it takes is a well-timed smirk to undo his hesitation.

Benny lets Cas topple him in the first few minutes and Cas would be indignant about it except that he wraps his legs around the former-angel’s waist to hold him still and kisses him like that’s what they had been doing in the first place.

Cas laughs at him but goes easily, presses into Benny’s front, plants his hands on either side of his head, kisses him until they hear the sounds of Sam and Dean coming home.

They end up making the pie right then because Sam’s puppy dog eyes paired with Dean’s earnest look is pretty unstoppable. Besides (Sam whines) it has to cool overnight and that means they can have pie for breakfast. Benny takes helm, directing the brothers easily and nudging Cas aside playfully when he attempts to sneak tastes from the bowls. Even with Dean still silent the brothers manage to bicker through the process but all it does is bring a fond smile to Benny’s smile. When he looks back to raise eyebrows at Cas, the former angel has a similar smile on his face, warm and worn-in.

They drink beer and eat leftovers in between checking the oven until Dean deems the pie finished. Sam scoops some of the filling out and suffers a burnt tongue for his trouble. Cas volunteers himself and Sam to clean up and Benny redirects Dean to his “cave.”

They’ve barely stepped into the hallway before Dean stops him, shoves him against the wall, fits his body against Benny’s. It’s not aggressive, or at least, there’s no heat there. No teeth and tongue and fierce movements. Just Dean slotting himself into Benny’s space. Benny leans back against the wall, easily taking the hunter’s weight. “Yeah?” he hums, keeping one hand slung low on Dean’s waist while the other trails over his shoulder blades.

Dean huffs a heavy sigh through his nose and it brushes warm along Benny’s throat. They breathe together, three long breaths, and then Dean murmurs, “Yeah.” Benny’s eyes slip shut because it’s an encouraging sign -- sometimes it’s days before they get even a sound out of him. He tries not to react beyond a bit of positive reinforcement, a dry kiss to Dean’s temple. Sometimes if they get too excited, Dean clams back up further from the pressure of it.

They end up sprawled on the couch, Benny with his head in Dean’s lap and Dean silently mouthing along to The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. Cas comes in just as James Stewart (supposedly) kills Liberty Valance and wastes no time in settling himself atop Benny. The vampire huffs a little but easily rearranges himself so they’re more comfortable. Dean ends up with a hand in Cas’s hair, the other petting at the hollow behind Benny’s ear.

Once they learn the parable of the West (when the legend becomes fact, print the legend), Cas shuffles them off to bed. Dean goes without complaint but he lazily mouths against Cas’s neck as they change and get washed up. Benny drowsily watches as Dean gets the former angel against the wall and noses along his jaw. Maybe he dips off, because the next thing he knows Dean is pocketing himself into Benny’s side and Cas is sinking along the hunter’s back. Dean sighs, Cas has his fingers through his hair.

Maybe he’ll be back to speaking tomorrow morning. Maybe he’ll laugh and cut himself a slice of pie for breakfast and kiss them through the tangy-sweet. Maybe it’ll come gradual through the day, half-words and short answers. Maybe it’ll be a few days down the line before he finds his voice, maybe next week.

Benny drops his forehead to Dean. Feels Cas’s fingertips tease over his temple. He kisses Dean deep and slow and mumbles into his mouth, “Good night, cher.”

Dean hums and closes his eyes and falls asleep.

#deancasbenny #deancasbenny fanfic #my stuff #dean winchester #benny lafitte #castiel #shoutout to my brother who - when i had my first bout of mutism - pounded on my door screamed 'THIS IS NOT VERY PUNK ROCK' at me #and then made me a porkroll egg & cheese sandwich

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19mrs-barnes17 · 4 years

Text

How Could I Ever Forget?

Summary: “Hello! Can I make a request for Dean x reader. Dean x reader have recently confessed their feelings for each other. Soon after, the reader loses her memory. The brothers help her have a “normal” life away from hunting & they stay away from her. After a few weeks/months, the reader calls Dean, because she has a nightmare and he rushes over to see her. He secretly keeps seeing her and over time she slowly starts to fall for him again. Maybe you can include them being soulmates? Thank you!” -Anonymous

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings:

Word count: 3,245

A/N: wow this one had some plot to fit, haha. Enjoy! (Ps. title is from a Next to Normal song)

“C’mon Via, I can handle a shopping run. My memory is getting better and I’ll have the list to help. Please? I need to get out, being cooped up here is driving me stir crazy.” Your sister’s eyes darted to the side, mind running through the request several times before caving and nodding. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

She handed over your emergency phone and the list, still nervous about your first solo excursion since the accident. No one would tell you much about it, you had been hit hard on the head and had forgotten three years worth of your life. But, nobody said what did it or any other specific details about that night. Only ever saying your phone broke and providing you with a new one full of only family members.

The last memory you had before the gray three year gap was of your sister calling you in a motel room. For the life of you you couldn’t remember the name or why you were even there. It was too fuzzy and the only thing you were able to recall was that you were meeting people. But no one would tell you who or why? Some said it must have been some dream or figment of imagination but you knew better. And one day you’d find out.

For now you strolled down aisles and pushed a cart, your pace quite slow as you attempted to prolong your excursion. You had missed doing mundane activities as silly as it may sound, you had been treated like a glass figurine. She had denied you every request, not allowing you to do anything that could be remotely dangerous. You couldn’t even help in the kitchen, she was terrified of any more damage befalling you. It was suffocating.

“Hey Y/N? Can you grab me some washcloths from the closet?” It was one of the few tasks that she deemed safe enough, what could towels do to you right? Knock down a couple boxes apparently, but thankfully you caught them and no one was alerted. You couldn’t handle further seclusion.

One box had your name on it, but you had never seen the thing in your life. Unless… Quickly you hid the box in your room and emerged from the hall with some rags. You excused yourself to get washed up for dinner, doing your best to not trip up. When you were alone you pulled the box from your closet and sat on your bed, hands frozen on the tabs. You were terrified that you’d find nothing special, but frightened of finding something that had been hidden from you.

A sharp pain stung in your chest as you rifled through the objects that held a strange familiarity. There were photos of you, people you didn’t recognize with arms around you and smiles on your faces. A pair of green eyes gazed up at you from a bright screen at the bottom of the box, your hand having brushed against it. One fingerprint and a button later and you were staring at a home screen background of you and the man. Your head rested against his shoulder as you looked at him from the corner of your eyes. Both of you held bright smiles on your faces, his beautiful green eyes on the camera as he was likely taking the photo.

You stared at the small markings on your wrist, they were what showed up when you met your soulmate. It was said that it was some ancient language and that the name of your soulmate was written in it, but no one seemed to be able to crack it. Not one person could translate the language, it had perplexed the world for years and eventually fell into the background of news. Even despite the discovery that when you read your soulmates markings it translated in your head. Only you could read your own name on their wrist. You wondered if this was some relationship you had found with someone who wasn’t your soulmate, or if he was your soulmate. But if he was, why wasn’t he here?

Footsteps echoed in the hall and your name was called, you quickly shoved the box under your bed and gathered yourself. Now was not the time to tear down the hope of more freedom, not before you found out more. You needed insurance that this was worth it and you weren’t seeking out someone who wasn’t there. He could have died in the same accident for all you knew. God you hoped not.

Dinner passed by in a blur and you excused yourself for bed, faking a yawn and lying about an early start on cleaning tomorrow. In your room you sat with the empty box on the floor and the contents sprawled across your bed. Time to research the hell out of this green eyed guy. For some reason his name pulled up police reports and wanted ads, you were terrified. When you looked into him, Dean Winchester as you soon discovered, he was reported dead. So many years ago, and yet somehow you had been with him in the last three years. Maybe they were doppelgängers. They had to be. But this left you at square one, no lesser known guy with the same face showed in your search.

Eventually you gave up, you weren’t finding anything this way and you were going to have to find out by asking your sister. You were really not in the mood to be rejected and ignored so you put off continuing the search until tomorrow. Eyes growing heavy and your body falling into exhaustion you slipped beneath the covers. Tomorrow you were going to hunt down that man and find out the truth, by any means necessary. You had to know.

There were flashes of lightning as the rain shot down in rough droplets from the stormy clouds above. It was a violent storm and you were caught in the middle of it, alone. Or at least, so you thought. As you pressed onward you heard a stranger's voice call out your name, and it oddly felt normal to hear. When you whipped your head around you saw those green eyes you’d been hunting all night. He called out for you to duck and you obliged, a shot rippling overhead. When you turned a man, no a creature, lay still on the pavement with a pool of red dispersing from its lifeless body. It terrified you how calm you were about the murder you had just witnessed, but what really scared you was how relieved you were. Like it was a job well done.

You slipped when making your way to the green eyed man, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. What you saw next fizzled in and out and you could hardly make it out. You saw flashes of a taller gentleman by a vintage car, the trunk filled with weaponry, and images of a hand held out to you.

You were coated in sweat as you shot up in your bed, body shaking as you tried to stand only to fall to your knees. What the hell was that? An hour passed as you attempted to discern fiction from reality, the nightmare had felt so real. Almost like a memory which scared the hell out of you. What happened over the past three years. You had been a hunter of sorts, that was all you remembered. But, a hunter of monsters?

You sat back in your bed, eyes never leaving the newly found phone. There weren’t a ton of names in the contacts but there were so many non-family members, and that scared you. Not a single name that you scrolled past did you recall ever meeting. There were text messages and conversation you could have sworn you’d never had if not for the overwhelming evidence before you. When you reached W in the contact list your heart dropped, there he was. Dean Winchester. Green eyes and all, smiling up at you from the phone screen. Curiosity struck and you opened up your messages, eyes freezing on the most recent in a series of missed messages.

I love you and I miss you.

It was sent only two weeks ago, and only a month after you had woken up in the hospital with a chunk of your past missing. Whoever he was, he was alive and he wanted to see you or at least he did weeks ago. It was stupid, but you were desperate and couldn’t believe you hadn’t thought of it before. Your finger hit the green button and you were pleased to hear the ringing. You still had access to the past, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it.

There was a click but no voice spoke from the other end, you were afraid he no longer wanted to speak. What if he had cut his losses after you continuously didn’t respond, moving on with someone else? Whatever the case, you still had to know.

“I know you answered. I can hear you.” There was a pause of silence before he spoke, his voice tired and soft.

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again. Are you okay? Did something happen?” He was spiraling rather quickly and you could hear the pain and anxiety dripping from his voice. “Sammy said your sister came to take you home.”

“Sammy? Who- I…” He didn’t know, he didn’t know. Oh, god. How the hell do you tell someone who loves you that you don’t remember them? How can you break their heart like that?

Well, it certainly wasn’t over the phone. You slipped on a jacket and snuck out of the apartment, keeping Dean on the line. The box was in your hands as you crossed several streets to the nearest open park.

“Okay, I’m out.” He started to make concerned comments about your phrasing but you cut him off. “I need your help.”

“Done. What do you need?” It was strange for someone you didn’t know to have such faith and trust in you, to immediately offer his assistance with zero hesitation. You gave him your sister’s address and asked him to meet you at the designated park before you gave him any more information.

The moment you heard the rumbling of an engine you knew it was him, though it was still at least a street away. You weren’t a car person but the familiarity of the engine was all too memorable and you couldn’t deny that you knew that car. It was unmistakable. But when the man exited the car, his door slamming shut before his green eyes lifted to meet yours, you felt the strangest pull in your chest. Something in you wanted to jump from the swing and toss the box to the side, to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. It scared you a little, the strength of the emotion.

“Dean.” A soft smile tugged at his lips, but there was concern clouding his eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He nodded and moved to sit in the swing beside you, his eyes wandering to the box you held in your arms. You moved to open it, pulling photos and a necklace from within and handing them to him. Taking a deep breath you prepared yourself.

“That’s you and Bobby outside his house in the junkyard. You’d helped him fix up a car, it was your first one and he… He wanted to commemorate it. Always was into that cheesy stuff when it came to us.” Your brow furrowed, eyes flickering between him and the photograph.

“You knew? You knew I didn’t remember?” He nodded softly, eyes tearing up as he ran nostalgic fingers over the glossy image. “And you left me to figure out the last three years on my own?”

“I’m sorry.” His head hung low, eyes closing as a tear slips down his cheek. “I only figured it out when your sister ran into me outside her apartment building. She cornered me, the only one who knew about your secret life, and told me to back off. You finally had a chance at a normal life, and I knew she was right. So Sam and I stayed away.”

“How could she?”

“She was only trying to help. You were pretty banged up after that car wreck and she only wanted you safe.” Dean wiped the tear trail from his cheek, eyes meeting yours once more.

“Car wreck? What about the rest, the creatures I see every night when I close my eyes? Why do I keep seeing you?” You were growing more hysterical by the minute and Dean slipped off his swing and knelt before you. He caught you as you fell into him, arms wrapping around him as you let the tears flow and soak his shirt.

“I can’t explain everything, not in just one night. Not only is it kind of impossible, it's probably not healthy for you.”

“Then you come back every night. You come here and you tell me it bit by bit.” Your eyes were frantic as you searched his eyes. He sighed before nodding, and you hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You pulled back and looked into his eyes, your expression growing serious. “Okay, business first I see. Where to start?”

“The beginning.”

You sat before him in the empty park for hours, listening to the story of how you met and how you had been a hunter. You still had so many questions but it was beginning to get light out and your sister would have a fit if she saw you weren’t in your bed. One more hug and you waved Dean off, his sleek black car fading into the distance. For weeks this went on and you listened to him describe your life and the people you had met. Once he had finished, after several nights of storytelling, he handed you a journal with your name on it.

“Here, it's your hunter’s journal. Cases you worked on and sometimes mentions of people you encountered. All inside, in your words.” You remembered, a little surprised it wasn’t included in the box. It started when you and your sister lost your parents to a vamp, ending just days before the crash. Scanning over your handwriting tears welled up in your eyes, you couldn’t thank him enough for his help. Though you hadn’t magically regained your memory, you at least had answers and that was enough for now. But something was still missing.

“Time to finish the story.”

“I did, the crash and your sister telling me off is the last I know.” You raised a brow at him and pulled up your photo album on the phone, swiping until you found a picture of you kissing his cheek.

“You sure about that? Because I know for a fact I don’t exchange ‘I love you’s’ freely and I certainly don’t go around kissing people on the cheek.” You handed over your phone and he smiled softly at the photo but there was still a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Who are you to me?”

“Officially? Nothing that planned on being something. You got into the crash three days after I told you I loved you. So, I’ve never actually heard you say it back. But, I thought we were something.” Your heart dropped, eyes closing as you took in a deep breath.

Three days after he confessed and you reciprocated interest. Only three and he lost you in a mere instant. You had found someone and lost them in less than a week. It was no wonder you felt such strong pulls toward him, you loved him and you had forgotten. But in these few weeks of meeting nightly you had begun to see why he had been someone you stayed by. He was a good man who had had a rough run, and you knew the feeling all too well after what happened to you.

“I can’t remember loving you.” His eyes met yours but soon tore away to his car, looking at you becoming too painful. “But every time I see you I feel it, I feel the pull and I know I did.”

“You… do?”

“I know I love you Dean Winchester. I just have to know you again.” You placed a hand on his cheek and suddenly his eyes widened. “What?”

“Your wrist, I uh, It’s my name. It says my name.” You quickly grabbed his wrist and pulled back his jacket, eyes growing wide.

“And there’s mine. Clear as day.” You chuckled softly to yourself and shook your head.

All this time you had known your soulmate and fate had ripped him from you, taken him without remorse. Your eyes met his and you sat wondering how the two of you never noticed before, how neither had tried to read the others. He had been before you, sitting with that dopey smile that made you want to kiss him all over. There was no way you were letting him out of your sight, not again. Screw a normal life, something would have found you sooner or later. You’d rather spend your days getting to know the love of your life all over again.

“Stay here.” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek and ran, your legs burning when you reached your sister’s home. The light flipped on as you were stuffing a duffle bag with all your necessities and you froze in place.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Via stood wrapping her robe tighter over her pajamas before crossing her arms. “Where are you going?”

“I found him Via. He was there all along in my missing years, my soulmate.” Your sister’s eyes softened and she nodded. “It was Dean.”

“Well, then we better make sure you pack it all safely. Tell lover boy to bring that Impala he nicknamed around.” She smiled softly at you through the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m gonna miss my big sister, you and him better visit. I mean it.”

“Of course.” When all was packed away you hugged your sister and called Dean, he was there in minutes. “You don’t mind me moving in right?”

“Hell no. Sam and Cas will be glad you’re back. Even if they had a problem I’d still move you in.” You chuckled softly at his serious expression and his eyes softened. “I’ve missed you and your laugh.”

“Good. Cause I’m not leaving you again anytime soon, so better be sure.” His smile slowly faded as he approached you and wrapped an arm around you.

“I’m dead certain. There’s no one I’d rather have at my side than you, no one I’d rather love.” You leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips, unsure where the courage came from.

Wrapping both arms around his neck you continued to kiss him and kiss him like you’d starve without the taste of his lips. He held on, not wanting to lose you again and you gladly welcomed the feeling. Your sister coughed loudly behind you and shooed the make out session “off her single and lonely property”. Dean smiled as he pressed down on the gas pedal and held your hand in his, everything was finally starting to put itself back together.

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coolkat122 · 3 years

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Twisted teeth: Vampire Gaara x Reader chapter 2 part 2

"Hey, are you okay?" My eyes widen when I heard Naruto's voice, I quickly turned to face him out of habit even though currently, I didn't really want to see him at the moment or more specific I didn't want him seeing me like this right now.

His blue eyes cut toward my teeth chewing up a storm on my poor thumb's nail and he frowned with concern, "Is something troubling you (Y/n)?"

"You only do that when somethings bothering you" I removed my hand away from my mouth as I tried my best to look as if I were okay (though it was pointless to do so, he already knows somethings up).

"I'm fine, just a little concern with some work stuff" Naruto's face saddens as his eyes shined with disappointment.

"Don't lie to me, please, I know you better than that...just tell me what's wrong?" I stood there feeling just the worst as Naruto asked me this, I wanted to, but I still wasn't sure if I should.

I know if I did, he'd accept Gaara no doubt, but I also know he'd want to meet Gaara and as I've mentioned Gaara doesn't strike me as ready for that, so.

I was at a loss, do I tell him or do I keep it from him despite him knowing that something was up...

"Whatever it is, I promise I'll understand, you know I will" Taking a deep breath, I explained everything to him, I probably shouldn't have, but.

I trust Naruto and I'll trust that he'll understand my judgments with this situation, he stood there listening, taking in everything I was saying till the very end.

"So that's why you were hard to find around the village... well... I can't say that I like what I'm hearing if he was the one Sasuke was tasked to hunt, but... it does sound like maybe he's not so bad..." jumping in without really making sure if he was done speaking, I confirmed quickly.

"Gaara really isn't even when I first met him when he woke up, it was clear that he wasn't bad, it's just that it's all he knows, vampires don't completely see things as we do, but Gaara is different, he promised me, he'd leave humans alone"

"I still don't like that you want to continue meeting him alone... it doesn't feel right" Naruto looked down at his lap.

"Gaara still isn't ready for other people yet, I know he won't attack, but it might be overwhelming for him, having humans in is life is something I want to ease him into, so nothing goes wrong" Naruto nodded silently.

"Yeah, I understand...still" Naruto sighed. "Never mind... just let me know when he's ready for another friend, I'll be sure to introduce him to new things the Uzumaki way" Naruto raised up onto his feet with a quick thumbs up and a goofy smile which caused a small one to grow on my face.

"Thank you Naruto, I can't wait for you two to meet eventually" Naruto's smile shifted over to a more relax and charming one as he sat back down.

"No problem... you know I'd do anything for you" My heart got a bit crazy from that comment and my face went red as another smile was breaking out onto my lips.

"I know..." The atmosphere became this weird mix of intense and warm, and yet somehow light as we both fell silent for a bit, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Naruto staring at me in a strange manner, one I know from the looks Sakura as she gazes at Sasuke.

Slowly Naruto sled over closer to me and I toward him, before turning my head to face him as we both moved in for a kiss when our lips finally met, the world started spinning.

My heart became even crazier than before and my whole body felt as if it were ablaze, my stomach felt fluttery, I didn't want for it to end when I've been waiting for this moment for so long...and yet.

It had to, I still had to visit Gaara and it's not like our lips could remain locked together like this forever, we both finally pulled away, faces a matching red as Naruto uttered.

"Will...will you go out with me?"

"Yes... I would love too" We kissed a second time only shorter before we both got up on our feet and said our farewells for the day.

"Maybe tomorrow you would like to spend the day with me?...like a date?" Naruto asked, sound hopeful as he tried to keep eye contact.

"Sure! I'll meet you at the park once I'm off from work" Naruto smiled brightly as he nodded and we both went our separate ways.

~~~

By the time I got to the cabin, it was a little darker than I would have liked which meant I'll be home even later... not thrilled but I really didn't want to miss out on meeting Gaara today.

It just didn't sit right on standing someone so despite the risk, I rushed to the cabin as quickly as possible, I was barely at the door when it burst open and in a flash of white something pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Where were you!?" Gaara asked in a worried and desperate voice, that sounded as if it were on the verge of tears... he was... like this because of me...

"I.. I had trouble sneaking out, I'm sorry" I tried to pull back, but the embraced tighten with my attempt, realizing he need this for a little bit longer, I let him hold me in his arms, for a little while.

"I grew concerned that you might have..." His arms became even tighter around me as he paused in his sentence before slowly loosening up.

"Never mind" Gaara pulled away, though he avoided letting me see his face, "let's go inside" he begin walking toward the door stopping halfway when I made no attempts to move forward.

"Are you coming?" I jolted upright, startled out of my little train of thought.

"Oh, yes, sorry" I followed him into the cabin as he still avoided letting me see his face as he went to the bathroom.

I was curious as to why he wouldn't let me see his face but didn't ask instead I thought best to keep it to myself... with how he is, would asking about the hunters and rather or not the vampire attacks at the town Sasuke to were him or not?...

It doesn't seem like it would be, I sighed as I took a seat by the table, my eyes wondered for a bit around the room and as they did, I didn't miss a copy of Jiriaya's book by the bed.

A tiny sigh slip past my lips as I shook my head, 'really Gaara, you read that?' I glanced down toward the table for a brief moment after my mock head shake, it took some time but I soon noticed some plates with food laid out on them...

Did he... did he make these... dumb question, Gaara had to have been the one, who else could have? I shook my head disappointed in myself for asking such an obvious question.

Gaara finally came out of the bathroom still wearing one of Jiraiya's clothing, his eyes landed on me sitting by the table where the food he had cooked was laid out.

His green little orbs widen for a bit before returning to normal, "I...I thought I could start using what I catch for more than just their blood... and I knew you were coming over so I figured you might like some?"

Gaara locked his eyes on me with his usual stoic expression, awaiting my response, with a hit of hope shining in that green sea of his that it would be a positive one.

I nodded with a kind playful smile, "Lucky me, I didn't get to eat lunch today so I'm pretty hungry" picking up my utensils, I waited for Gaara to take a seat himself before eating.

A small smile graced his lips toward my reply as he begins to seat himself in the only free remaining chair, picking utensils of his own.

I say my thanks and begin to dig in while Gaara remains still as he carefully watched for my reaction, "how is it? I've never made human food before, but I did test some out for myself though I-"

'It's good, you did well for your first time cooking human food" I gave my praise as Gaara's eyes shined brightly, he didn't say anything else as we ate our meal.

Once we were finished, we had a little chat with one another, I told him of my day while leaving out the bits with Naruto, well only the last bit where he caught me feeling troubled.

Gaara wasn't ready to know about Naruto knowing nor did I think he needed to hear that Naruto and I were together just yet, at least that's what my feelings were telling me, so I listened.

I'll tell him soon just not now and I'll also ask about the hunters and other things I want confirmation on when the mood is right.

"Well I think it's about time, I head home now" as I was getting up to go, Gaara's hand shot out grabbing me by the wrist as he called out for me to wait.

I glance back confused, wondering why he was acting like this?

"What's wrong?" I asked with concern.

"Why don't you stay the night here? It's gotten late and it would be dangerous for you to return at such an hour" I'm sure that it was my imagination, but there was something off about the way he was looking up at me from the bed.

There was that familiar hopeful look in his eyes he would get when he wanted something but there was also something else mixed in with them, that I'm afraid, I didn't recognize.

"I can't... my family will worry and I don't exactly have a good cover story in mind that would lessen any questions or suspicious they will have" I for what I just now noticed rejected one of his requests.

"I see" His eyes fell to his lap and slowly his hand followed suit, "just be careful...then" I nodded with a smile trying to lighten the mood.

"I always am" I assured as I took my leave and did my best to once again get home safely, it wasn't all that hard given that my village was a pretty safe place thanks to some of the top clans living in it, that help kept it safe.

When I got back it was like I knew it would be quite late and my parents were questioning up a storm as to where I was, I lied about going out with Naruto and losing track of time.

They brought it well enough that it calmed them down a bit, but they threw in a warning on making sure it wouldn't happen again.

I nodded as I promised to do my best, they mostly accepted that before heading off to bed with me not far behind, I hopped inside them covers and wished my family sweet dreams, eventually drifting off into a stressful slumber...

_______

Why is there a text limit !?

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