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ariadnewhitlock · 10 months

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Yours, Mine, and Ours || Emilio & Ariadne

TIMING: Some time before the mines became Like That LOCATION: The forest, the mines PARTIES: Emilio @mortemoppetere and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY: Ariadne, having heard from Alan that Emilio is a PI, tries to trail him to see if he'll be good to help her find out what happened to the mare she made. Things go a bit sideways. Congrats, Emilio, you have another child! CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of explosions

Something was following him. He could feel it, the way it made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight. It was something undead, for certain, but… The motivations were a little unclear. Emilio had experimented, a little. Stopped in places he wouldn’t have stopped otherwise, made a show of looking down at his phone like he was ten kinds of distracted, given it every chance to hop out and try to kill him, and it hadn’t taken a single one. It was just… watching. Following.

To say that he was unsettled would be one hell of an understatement, but he couldn’t back out of what he was up to. There was a lot of shit going on in the mines right now, the kind of shit that tied several of his cases together in a way he didn’t really like, so against his own better judgment, he was circling the woods near one of the entrances looking for clues and trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on the back of his head. He wasn’t sure how great a job he was doing, all things considered.

Alan had said that he wasn’t sure if the local PI was someone she should contact, but for once, Ariadne’s curiosity had gotten the better of her (which was a weird sense of relief in and of itself, given her overall lack of curiosity in recent months. So she’d decided that maybe she should try following him, just to see what sort of work he did. It couldn’t hurt, right?

She wasn’t an especially big fan of the whole going into the forest thing that was happening right now, but Ariadne also wasn’t willing to give up. Even though for whatever reason, the man kept stopping and kept looking down at his phone. She figured that maybe he was getting important investigator-y messages or something. Ariadne certainly didn’t know anything about this sort of job. He’d headed toward the mines, which was not top of Ariadne’s list of things to do, but she was curious, and she didn’t want to squash the feeling - especially given that she didn’t know when she’d feel it again. Another few steps forward and her shoe snapped a tiny branch in half. For a moment, she paused, waiting to see what the man in front of her would do.

A twig snapped. He’d known he was being followed, but the way there was a distinct pause after the sudden noise told him that whatever was following him was aware enough to know it had been caught. Not a spawn, then, or some animalistic kind of undead thing. Something with enough sentience to be wary, but not something that took advantage of his feigned distractedness to move in for a kill.

Emilio weighed his options. He could keep up the ploy, pretend he didn’t know he was being followed until he could lead them someplace he’d have full control of the situation. That was probably the smartest move, but it required a level of patience that the hunter just didn’t have. So, he turned. “All right,” he called out. “Either fuck off or come out. I’m not doing this shit anymore, and you’re a lousy tail.” The sooner he got whatever they wanted out of the way, the sooner he could get back to taking care of the issue in the mines.

She froze up when he called out to her. “I -” she bit her lip, debating just staying away from his view. Except clearly she’d done something to mess things up and he’d become aware of her presence. Ariadne tapped her fingers against her thigh for a moment before stepping out from behind a tree. “I - I just wanted to see what being a PI involved.” She looked over to him, eyes widened, “I’m sorry for stepping on the tree branch, I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Fidgeting with her hands, she blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I - you are a PI, right? I’m sorry if I’ve scared you and I’m following the wrong person.” Though Ariadne was fairly sure she was correct, but she supposed that one could never be too certain.

Oh, Christ. It was a fucking kid, because of course it was. This town was crawling with twenty-somethings who looked half-terrified wandering the woods, and while Emilio had come across plenty of them, this was the first one who’d triggered his ‘undead’ senses. There was a strange sinking feeling in his stomach, a quiet nausea that had him feeling unsteady. “You didn’t surprise me,” he said, voice not quite as gruff as it was before but still far from gentle. “I’ve known you were back there for a while. Like I said, you’re a lousy tail.”

So it was targeted, her following him. Not because of his ‘night’ job, which was something of a surprise. When something undead was tracking you specifically, it tended to have something to do with the number of undead things you’d killed. Hesitantly, Emilio nodded. “Yeah,” he confirmed, “I’m a PI. Most people just come to my office to ask about that shit, you know. Following a guy through the woods isn’t the best way to introduce yourself.”

“You didn’t point it out before.” Ariadne made a face. “Sorry, sorry, that was rude.” She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge, all of a sudden. “I was never too good at guessing the end to mysteries as a kid, so I guess that tracks.”

She glanced down at her feet. “I’m sorry. Again. I guess I just wanted to see you in action - I - I’ve always been a bit more of a visual learner?” Ariadne looked down at the ground again before looking back up. “I’m Ariadne. Are you really super good at tracking people down? How do you do that?”

He snorted, still eyeing the kid suspiciously. He wished, sometimes, that the slayer senses came with a little more… detail. It was impossible to tell if this girl was a vampire or some other kind of undead just by looking at her. It was also impossible to tell if she was actually a kid. The mannerisms seemed right, but plenty of immortals learned how to fake that. They had to, if they wanted to keep from being found out. “Guess so,” he agreed with a curt nod.

She didn’t seem outwardly dangerous. That was a problem, too. Emilio couldn’t be sure how much of this was genuine and how much of it was an act. She could be exactly what she seemed, or she could be plotting to kill him. He’d hate to find out which one was true when it was already too late. “Could’ve asked to follow me, then,” he pointed out, but there was less bite to the words than there might have been if she were older — or if she looked older. He’d always had a weakness for kids. It was the kind of thing that was going to get him killed, one of these days. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s not as exciting as it sounds. A lot of detective work is just waiting, kid.”

“My cousin would’ve probably been better at that.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, because thinking about Chance right now wasn’t going to do her any good. A sigh, followed by an apologetic look toward him. “I am really sorry. I’m used to being quiet, but I don’t want to startle people or be rude.” Ariadne was acutely aware that there was a high likelihood she was overdoing it, but since she couldn’t go out and apologize to people the way she wanted to (saying ‘hey, sorry I’m a horrible monster’ likely wouldn’t go over well whatsoever), this had to suffice.

“But I -” she fiddled with something - something invisible, clearly, as her fingers knit together, trying to focus on something, center herself on anything. “I didn’t want to bother you, or make you feel like you had to say yes, or - well, I don’t really have a good excuse other than the fact that I don’t like - uh - confrontation.” Ariadne made a face. “Not that - not that I thought you’d be mean or like, rude or whatever - I just…” her voice trailed off. “Then you must be real patient? That’s amazing.” She attempted a smile, knowing that it likely came off far more awkward than she intended for it to.

“I know the feeling,” Emilio mumbled, feeling a sense of connection without really meaning to. He’d always been a little worse at everything than his siblings, too. Part of why his mother preferred them so blatantly to Emilio himself, part of why it was such a goddamn tragedy that he’d been the only one to survive. Things like this only ever seemed to prove it. He couldn’t imagine Rosa feeling a sense of connection to someone undead, even if they were a kid. “It’s fine. You didn’t startle me.” That much was true, at least; for all his faults, Emilio was still a fairly hard man to startle. A benefit of being hyperaware of every movement around him, he figured.

She seemed nervous, but not the kind of nervous that usually came with someone undead speaking to someone genetically designed to take them out. That probably meant she had no idea the private investigator she’d decided to follow was a slayer, which was good for Emilio, even if it did fill him with an unwanted sense of concern for her. Did she have any idea how fucking risky it was, following him like this? Any other slayer would have killed her by now. “I can be,” he replied. “Sometimes. When I need to be.” Glancing behind him briefly, he sighed. “Look, kid, you followed me because you need a detective. Right? Tell me the case, and I’ll tell you what I can do. But I’m working right now, so I can’t stand around making small talk.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She didn’t like the idea that someone else could relate to the newfound feeling she held toward Chance. Especially because it used to be so different. If Ariadne wasn’t following this man for a very specific reason, she might have even asked Chance to come along. Because telling your cousin who saw you as a goody two shoes that you’d murdered someone wasn’t so easy. She was fairly certain that wasn’t a cool thing in his book.

“Okay - that’s good. I wouldn’t want to startle someone.” Ariadne nodded. “Oh - I - that’s good. Thanks for that.” Right. The case. She’d rehearsed some of what she was going to say - except she wasn’t quite sure how to bring up the part of ‘they might still be walking around’. “I’ll get started, sorry. I - a friend of mine was killed, and I - I don’t - know what happened after. There’s no, uh, burial site - grave? For them.” This was a spectacular failure. “And I don’t know how to find out what happened to them, and I really want to.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, waving her off. Thinking of his siblings, in that context, always made Emilio feel an unpleasant stab of guilt. Being jealous of the dead because they’d been more successful than you in life, because they were so much easier than you were to love, wasn’t a good look on anyone. Much less someone who, by all rights, should have died in their place. It was nothing he wanted to let his mind wander to now.

He’d much rather focus on the kid following him.

She was after something, that much was clear. It was the what that was the problem. As she spoke, his eyes narrowed. At first, he thought she might be talking about herself. The old ‘I have this friend’ modifier that people added to the beginning of a sentence that was about themselves was never quite as sly as they likely meant for it to be. But the rest of the story made less sense if she was talking about herself. Emilio narrowed his eyes, a little suspicious. “How’d they die? Your friend.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.” She practically winced at her own words. “They were killed. In their sleep.” Ariadne felt sick. “The - I don’t know the cause - but it was after a few weeks’ worth of painful sleep. Or that’s what they said.” And because she’d known them and they had said that to her, Ariadne looked down at the ground, then. “It wasn’t, like, bloody or anything.” She paused, “far as I know.”

Wrapping her arms around herself she gave a shrug. “I - that’s all I really know. Is that enough, or do you need more information?” This was likely all a mistake. Especially because it could very well land her in jail - except that part of her had to know. Ariadne took a few steps forward. “I - uh, can I come along with you? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.” A lie, but not one she knew him well enough to call him on. That was the thing about lying — if no one knew you, it got easier. At least… sometimes it did. Some people were still bad at it. He couldn’t decide if she was one of them or not. The story sounded true enough, and Emilio had a pretty good idea of what could cause it, but he’d yet to decide if she was actually talking about a ‘friend’ or if she was trying to make sense of her own death. She was undead, after all; his senses made that pretty damn clear. Mare would make sense.

But if she was talking about herself, what was she after? What did she expect to find with a private investigator’s help? “What’s your friend’s name?” That was a start, at least. Something to go off of, something to add another piece to the puzzle. Raising his brows at her offer, he glanced back towards the mines. “Kid, I don’t think you want that. This isn’t exactly a ‘tagalong’ kind of case.”

“Some people might, though,” and she was jumpy enough to assume that she’d done something wrong, or that she’d be a bother to people. After all, Ariadne’s whole new existence sort of was a bother to just about everyone.

“Isobel Perkins.” Her breath came out shaky. “I - please, can I?” She shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I won’t say anything, I promise. Or do anything stupid like stepping on another branch.” Ariadne knew she wasn’t too good at standing her ground, but she also knew that actually feeling curious about something wasn’t a feeling that came along too often, and it wasn’t something she wanted to entirely push away.

“I’m not some people.” She was a nervous one, wasn’t she? It was almost familiar, in a way. Like a funhouse mirror — similar enough to his own reflection to spark something, but not a true representation of what he was. Emilio’s nervousness, after all, came less from the idea that he might offend or upset someone and more from the fear that they were out to get him. It was a nervousness that, for this interaction at least, was fading into the background. He didn’t think this kid wanted to hurt him. He wasn’t sure anyone was a good enough actor to pull off what she was doing now unless it was genuine. There was some relief in that.

Isobel Perkins. He made a note of the name, wholly unfamiliar but easy enough to look into. As for what he’d find… that was hard to say. If Isobel Perkins was a mare now, there was every chance that she’d changed her name to avoid the complications that came from rising from the dead. If she were smart, she’d have gotten out of town, too. But Emilio would look into it anyway. For the nervous, unsettled, undead kid who’d decided following a strange man into a mine was her best bet at answers. Sighing, he pushed his hair back, shrugging a shoulder. “Fine,” he relented. “You can tag along. Just — If you hear anything coming, make a damn run for it. Okay? These mines are no joke.”

“That’s fair.” She wanted to stop being so jumpy. Practically cursed herself for it, because what kind of a first impression was this to make on somebody? Though, Ariadne supposed, that was better than being terrifying upon first glance. She also wasn’t sure if she should be somewhat offended that even now, coming upon a year of being a nightmare, she didn’t even instill any sort of fear in those around her, and in fact, was often the most fearful person in the room.

“Okay. I will run.” She was doing exactly what Professor Langston had told her not to do. Maybe she was going to have to report on herself, to him. Ariadne shook the thought out of her head, best as she could. “Do you come here often? Can I ask that?” She tapped her fingers against her thighs as they continued to move along. “Or is this just because of your assignment.” She wasn’t sure that she wanted to see the mines. (In fact, she very much didn’t, but maybe she could tell Chance that she had done something wild - leaving out the very obvious parts of the story, such as the reasons why she was doing this). “I’ve lived here my whole life and I don’t think I’ve ever visited them, even back in middle school, or high school.”

He nodded as the kid agreed to run if things got rough, choosing to take the promise at face value. She could very well change her mind when it came down to it, of course. People were fickle things, even when they were undead. But if Emilio spent all his time worrying about her, he wouldn’t be any good to either of them. She said she’d run, and he had to believe her. He didn’t have much choice in the matter.

“To the mines?” There was a hint of something that was almost amusement in his tone. Did anyone come here often, aside from miners? Did anyone else want to? Even before the mining accident that left the area unstable, Emilio couldn’t imagine that anyone would frequent the area given how much shit went on here. “I’m here because I have to be, kid. Still not sure why you feel like tagging along.” The fact that she’d never been here wasn’t surprising, though maybe it offered some insight into why she was following him now. Curiosity was a hard thing to shake. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint glow. Any other night, he might investigate, but… with the kid in tow, it was probably better to ignore it. Find what he needed and get out. That was the goal now.

“Yeah - to the mines.” She scrunched up her whole face, before shaking her head. Because people did go to the mines, not just miners. Granted, other than miners, people probably weren’t qualified to go there and were just - well, Ariadne wasn’t going to focus on that. “Because I needed to figure something out, and I told a professor I’d -” she pressed her lips together. “Never mind. I just want to see what a Private Investigator does.”

There was a glowing something coming from somewhere else, and she couldn’t help but look over, head turning curiously. “What are -” she bit down on her lip, shaking her head. She wasn’t supposed to bother him. That was not nice, that was going to get her kicked out of whatever investigation was going on. Ariadne tapped her fingers against her thighs, eyes still not moving from the glowing.

She told a professor she’d what? Were professors telling kids to go into the mines now? That didn’t seem like the sort of thing professors ought to do, though Emilio’s concept of organized schooling was… distorted, to say the least. In any case, it would be far easier to keep an eye on the kid if she was going to the mines with him than it would be if she snuck back around to go by herself later. “You’re going to be disappointed,” he warned her. “It’s not as fun as it looks on TV.” Not that he’d seen much TV.

Since the kid was undead, Emilio didn’t necessarily need to look at her to know where she was. He could feel her following him, the pit in his stomach digging in deeper the closer she got. Luckily, she seemed to be content to follow silently. Emilio headed towards the mines, paying no attention to the glowing form that had captured her eye. His singular focus on his job could be a blessing or a curse. Which it would be tonight was yet to be determined.

When she was little, her parents had bought her a whole packet of glowsticks one summer. For her to break open whenever she wanted to have a spark of light in her room in the middle of the night. This was, of course, in addition to the glow-in-the-dark stars that had decorated her ceiling and walls. Which, she figured, looking back, was perhaps her parents’ way to encourage her to not climb out of her window in the middle of the night to see what the sky happened to look like. It had worked, mostly. It had worked even better when Chance stayed over and would complain about the dangers of roof-top hangouts in the middle of the night. So was Ariadne really at fault for wanting to follow the glowing figures relatively near to here and Emilio? She couldn’t have been, right?

She stopped following him for a moment, giving it a few beats before she turned toward the direction of the glowing. Maybe she’d be able to help him with whatever he was working on today. Maybe prove that she was worthy or something - that she wasn’t just some dumb kid who was a nuisance to this whole ordeal. Ariadne did her best to stay as quiet as she could, glancing back to see if Emilio’d noticed that she was gone, yet.

He was silent as he walked, making no attempt at conversation. He didn’t even want the kid here, so why would he waste his time talking to her? He just needed to get this thing over and done with as soon as possible. Then he’d focus on her case so he could properly usher her out the door. Emilio trudged towards the entrance to the mines, shoulders tense as he got closer. The feeling of undead, of wrongness was growing stronger, which wasn’t as surprising as it should have been. There were bound to be all kinds of things in that mine.

Because of that feeling, though, it took him a moment to realize that the kid was getting further away. By the time Emilio looked up, she’d already disappeared somewhere. He cursed quietly under his breath. As much as he’d wanted to get rid of her, this was no place to lose track of a kid. There were plenty of things out here that could kill her no matter how undead she might be. “Kid,” he called out experimentally. “Look, if you wanna go home, that’s fine. Just let me know, so I can…” A branch broke nearby, too heavy to be the kid. Moreso, it was coming from inside the mine. Great. Always a fucking ordeal.

Chance would have been proud of her, she figured. Ariadne wasn’t sure if that was the best route of thinking to take, but it did something to comfort her, which was altogether confusing and welcome, all in one. She liked to try to think of it as comforting, just as his presence had used to be, but she couldn’t help but have her thoughts go to a nicer time. She didn’t know the reasons for that, but she did know that there was probably some expert who could tell her. Which she didn’t want to focus on right now.

She whipped her head around at the sound of a branch breaking. Except she didn’t see the man - Emilio - “um?” Ariadne turned around, taking in a deep breath. “I - what was that?” She wasn’t sure if he could even hear her. “There’s - uh, there’s something glowing.”

If he weren’t a hunter, with ears designed for hearing everything that wanted to kill him in the woods, Emilio probably wouldn’t have picked up on the sound of the kid’s voice. She was quiet, even as she called out to him. He groaned when she said what she saw — something glowing. Something glowing that had pulled her away, distracted her enough to make her break off after he told her not to. Yeah. He could guess what that was.

But whatever was breaking branches as it approached was a little harder to pin down. Undead? Big? He couldn’t both fight whatever was coming and keep an eye out for the kid, but he wasn’t exactly fast enough to outrun it, either. There was another option… he just didn’t particularly like it. Groaning, he rubbed a hand across his face and hoped the kid had decent hearing. “Kid, if you can hear me, get the hell away from whatever you’re following and run into the mines. That’s where I’m headed, and I’ll meet you there.”

“I can hear you.” It might have been slightly muffled, but she could hear him. Ariadne was, admittedly, starting to question her logic in deciding to essentially stalk a PI - especially because the reason she was following him could very well lead to her getting in trouble and being arrested or whatever it was that would be the solution to all the trouble she’d created, but it wasn’t as though she could back out now without seeming more suspicious.

“Fine, fine,” except that for whatever reason, she could still hear Professor Langston’s warnings about Not Going Into The Mines or whatever. Which meant that she had to report herself to him, didn’t she? Ariadne figured that right now was perhaps not the most optimal time to focus on that, and so instead she took off, running further into the mines. “Is this good?” She looked around, trying to zero-in on Emilio.

At least the kid seemed willing to listen. That wasn’t always the case, with kids in this town. He thought of Alex and Nora and Ren and all the stupid, stubborn kids who were definitely going to get themselves killed and his own desperation to keep that from happening. It was just his luck, wasn’t it, that the one kid who did listen to him was already dead. Undead were typically a lot harder to kill than hunters or bugbears or fae, no matter what kind of undead they were. Still, Emilio figured he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The kid was willing to listen to him. That was a good thing.

Or… it might have been, if his plan hadn’t involved leading her into the damn mines. He cursed under his breath as the creature outside the mines followed her, shaking his head in the darkness. “Think we’re gonna need to go deeper,” he called back, half a yell and half a whisper. “And you need to follow my voice and get to me. I need to be able to talk to you where you’re the only one who’ll hear me, otherwise we’re just going to keep leading this thing right to us.”

“I - okay.” Ariadne did her best to hide the confusion in her voice. She wasn’t too sure at all how she was supposed to manage to hear Emilio and keep whatever else was out there from hearing him - them - too. But she figured that she had to trust him (and she did, even despite all her confusion). “I’ll follow you - oh.” She finally understood the idea of how only she’d hear him. If she were closer, then he wouldn’t have to yell to her, because she was practically positive that she had no upper hand when it came to hearing. Except that she’d figured that pointing that out to him would’ve been rude, so she was grateful that she’d been mistaken, that it had been her fault, but that at least this time it was something she could fix. Maybe. Or at least she could try with a greater likelihood of success.

She walked as quickly as she could manage, until she finally spotted Emilio again. “Here.” She said, voice nearly as quiet as she could make it. “Me - I - I’m here.” Ariadne bit down on her tongue. “I’ll shut up now, I promise.”

She was clearly stressed out, and part of him — the part that had had a little girl of his own once, the part that would have done anything and everything to make her feel comfortable and secure — felt guilty for making her that way. But this kid wasn’t Flora. This kid was undead, and no matter how much Emilio tried to remind himself that not everything undead was a monster, thirty odd years of conditioning were so, so hard to break. Part of him thought he might just walk away, leave her here to fend for herself against whatever might be coming. But another, larger part of him knew he wouldn’t. Emilio was still a father, even if there was no one around who remembered. Even if it was only in the confines of his own mind.

She made her way over to him and he relaxed without meaning to, nodding as she got close. She was talking to him because she didn’t think he could see her, because anyone without slayer night vision wouldn’t have. Emilio wondered if she knew what a slayer was, if she knew she was supposed to be afraid of them. “You don’t have to shut up. Just talk quiet. We need to go farther into the mine, okay? But I’ve got your back. Just stick close, don’t wander off again.”

“Okay, okay - I promise I won’t wander off again.” And I’ll stop being so jumpy, except Ariadne couldn’t say that, because she didn’t want to lie, and saying that felt like it would be a complete lie. Not even a small one. She was a nightmare, she wasn’t supposed to be jumpy and anxious. At least, that was what she figured. “Are - what are you going to do, when you find them?”

Her fingers found the ends of her hair and she fiddled with those, grateful that even if her chest felt tight, that she couldn’t have her heart racing too much. Dead hearts didn’t race, after all. Ariadne pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to prevent herself from sighing, or saying anything else too much right now. “I - thanks for letting me follow - stay with you.”

A promise. It meant less coming from someone undead than it might have from a fae, who couldn’t break it, but Emilio let himself believe it anyway. She seemed like an honest enough kid. If he had to guess, he’d say she hadn’t been doing this long. There was something sad about it; were the dead still mourned when they got up afterwards and kept walking around? It was hard to say.

At her question, he hesitated. “Depends on what it is,” he decided, speaking carefully, “and what they’re doing. If it’s just someone not trying to hurt anyone, maybe they’re lost. Could show them the way back to town.” Though he doubted that was the case. But he didn’t want to scare the kid, didn’t want her running off because she didn’t trust him. He had no intention of hurting her, but sometimes it was hard to get that message across. He hesitated as she thanked him, grunting in response. “Let’s go,” he said.

He moved deeper into the mines against his better judgment, the kid behind him. They weren’t safe in here and he knew it, but they weren’t safe out there, either. This was a risk, but he wasn’t sure it was one they could afford not to take. Finally, when they were deep in the mines, he could no longer hear whatever had been following them. Sighing, He leaned against the wall. With his built-in night vision, he could see clearly; he wasn’t sure if she was the same. It depended what flavor of undead she was, he figured. “I think we should hang out for a little while,” he said lowly. “Make sure it’s really gone. Then we can circle back up to the surface. Okay?”

“That makes sense, yeah. I’ve heard of people getting lost down here.” Ariadne did her best to calm her nerves, even if it only worked so much. Which was to say, not entirely at all, but she’d fake it if she had to, because the last thing she wanted was to give him more reason to worry, when she hadn’t even planned on him noticing that she was there in the first place.

“Sorry - I shouldn’t - never mind.” She pressed her lips together, because being quiet was part of the deal of her getting to still follow him around, and even if she was so anxious she felt like she could melt into the ground, Ariadne liked the fact that she actually felt curious, actually curious and wanting to do more than feel bad about herself and what she’d become.

“Let’s go,” she echoed him, balling her hands into fists, taking in a breath that she supposed she didn’t technically need (but that made her feel better), and began to follow him. Soon enough, they were deep into the mines - and she could see perfectly - and it didn’t seem like anybody was there. “I - yeah. Okay.” She whispered. “We can hang out, make sure things are okay.” Somehow, the way that he said it made it seem more possible than just her thoughts alone. Ariadne wasn’t going to question that, and held onto the thanks that threatened to cross her lips firmly. She could thank him once they were out, right?

It was funny, how quickly her presence had gone from irritating to terrifying. When he’d first realized it was an undead kid following him, all he’d wanted was for her to leave. But now? If she broke off from him, she’d be a sitting goddamn duck, mare or no. And that had his heart pounding in his fucking chest. Emilio wasn’t stupid. He knew he had a soft spot that was shaped like a kid, knew he stopped thinking logically the moment someone young enough looked lost enough. Her being here was dangerous, and not just for her. It could spell out an end for him, too.

He clenched his jaw as she apologized for what must have been the ten thousandth time. She was definitely different than other kids he’d met in Wicked’s Rest, different than Nora or Ren or the kid in the woods with the goddamn cheese sludge. Quieter, less certain. He wondered if it was because of her death. People — the nonhunter kind of people — said sometimes that kids thought they were invincible, but undead kids must know they weren’t. They’d already had it proven to them once, after all.

Without responding, he led her deeper into the mines, and he thought it was worrying that she followed. He was doing it for her safety, of course, but why did she trust that? Why did she believe him? It was taking everything he had not to launch into a very dad-shaped lecture about following strangers into mines, but he figured he could save that for after they got out of here. As much as he hated how trusting the kid was, it was working to his advantage for the time being. If she got spooked and ran off, it’d be bad. “Don’t think we need to wait long,” he said. “Just long enough for…” He stopped. That feeling of undead nearby had, of course, been creeping up the back of his neck since he’d first registered her presence. But it felt a little different now. More intense. Like… “Something else is here.” It was all he had time to say before it burst out of the tunnel he was standing next to.

She would have understood if he’d asked her to leave - either calmly, or with any great deal of frustration – and all of that would have been exceptionally warranted, given everything. Given the fact that Ariadne knew that she was likely far more trouble than she was benefit, but if she focused on that she’d just mess something else up and get Emilio hurt, and then she’d have to live with that, and selfish as it was to think of things that way, she couldn’t help it.

“Something else?” She gulped, the reality of the entire situation sinking in more - as much as it had been real this whole time, Ariadne couldn’t help but feel a rising sense of panic - something that she was sure that she was supposed to take advantage of, if she was a halfway decent mare. Except that she wasn’t even a quarter decent, and at least this time around it kept her from longing to scare someone who’d done nothing but help her.

All of a sudden there was a loud bang - an explosion almost, before something appeared out of the wall and Ariadne felt herself tense up, shrink into herself. “They - I -” she stammered, only for a moment. “Those - we should run, right? Or - are - yeah?”

He recognized it, albeit only by reputation. Emilio had never seen them in person before — he’d never imagined he would. Maybe that was stupid of him, all things considered. Wicked’s Rest was a town full of undead things — of course its famous mines would be home to celestial roes. He cursed quietly as the thing approached them, slow and menacing.

“No,” he bit out, gritting his teeth. Running only meant leaving the problem for someone else to deal with, and Emilio hated that. He had to look out for the kid… but he had to look out for every other idiot in this town, too. If they didn’t do something about the roe today, someone else would find it in the future. They needed to trap it somewhere. They needed… “This is a mine. Yes? We need dynamite. Explosives. Something to blow a wall down. Then we lead it down to a corridor, and we trap it.”

He paused, considering how to proceed. He had an idea… but he didn’t like it. He couldn’t imagine she would, either. “Cut to the chase,” he said, turning to look at her. The roe was slow moving, so they had some time to talk. Just… not a lot. “You’re a mare. Aren’t you?”

“I’ve never blown up dynamite.” Which was an extraordinarily stupid sort of thing to say, but Ariadne couldn’t help it. “But okay. Okay, that sounds good.” Good was hardly the right word for it, but she didn’t really know what was the right word. What sort of word made sense to approve of exploding something and trapping something, even if it was, like, Bad, or something. But Emilio seemed to know what he was doing, and putting her faith in him was easier than stewing in her own worries, so she let him talk.

“I.” She paused. How did so many people figure it out that fast. “I am. But I don’t hurt people. Or I don’t try to. I - yeah. I’m a mare. As of last year.” The words came out in a rush, though Ariadne was proud of herself for not crying. “I - I’m not - what’s your plan?”

“Me either,” Emilio admitted. Slayers didn’t typically play with explosives. It struck him as something Rhett might enjoy, but he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Thinking of his brother, even in passing, while he was trying to save an undead kid… It only served to remind him of what a disappointment Rhett would see him as once he found out. And he couldn’t focus on that now. He needed to focus on this moment, on this kid, on this fucking roe. The existential shit could wait.

He shook his head as she began overexplaining. “That doesn’t matter right now.” Though he found he did believe the claim that she didn’t try to hurt people. He thought of his own experience with a mare, the way the nightmare stayed with him for weeks after. It had never come back, after the fact. Maybe that was a mare’s version of ‘not hurting.’ Maybe it was the only option they had.

“We need to get it in a closed off area, and I need to blow the wall so it’ll have to stay there. But I need someone to stay with it and make sure it doesn’t slip out before the dynamite goes off. You can… move, right? In the —” He grunted, frustrated with the fact that he didn’t know how to convey this in English. “The proyección astral thing that mares do, that lets them get away. You know how to do that, yes? I want you to stay with it and keep it from getting away until I blow the wall. Then you come out with that.”

“That’s good!” Ariadne forced herself to be more chipper than perhaps was appropriate. She made a small face. “I – sorry. Yes, that’s helpful. I’m glad about that. Though I mean, if you did, that’d be fine. It’s all okay.” She just wanted to be out of here. This was why she didn’t go out of her way to have too many adventures. Because that just ended her up in situations like this one, and normally she didn’t have adults like Emilio who could help get her out of said situations.

“Okay. Okay, sorry. Doesn’t matter. I’ll – you asked me to be quiet and I’m failing at that.” She bit down on her tongue about has hard as she could tolerate. Just over enough to make sure that she actually stopped and listened to what Emilio had to say. At least he wasn’t asking her many more questions about what she’d said. About what she was.

“I – yes.” Ariadne gulped a breath of air that she didn’t really need. “I – I’m alright at it.” She was actually more than alright, but any sort of bragging about being monstrous or even monster-adjacent was not something that she was going to even sort of attempt right now. “I can do that. I’ll help you. Yes.”

She was eager to please, wasn’t she? Agreeing with everything he said, insisting that it was good even when nothing about this situation was particularly positive. Optimism was an unfamiliar beast, for Emilio. It wasn’t a thing hunters tended to carry well, wasn’t a weapon any of them learned to wield. As a hunter, you could be a pessimist or you could be a realist. Emilio wasn’t entirely sure there was any kind of a difference between the two.

“No, it —” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine now. It knows we’re here, too late for quiet.” Sneaking was only feasible if you were trying to get away without the monster knowing you were near. They were past that now.

He nodded, relieved that they at least had all the parts in place for the plan to work. “Okay,” he agreed. “Okay, yeah. I’m going to grab the dynamite. You lead it off. All right? Into some place enclosed, but with enough space that you can be far away from the blast. So you don’t get hurt. I’ll blow the wall down, you get out, then we walk back up to the surface together. Sound good?”

“Still, I don’t want to make things worse.” Though Ariadne wondered, perhaps, if she was making things worse by default through her near-constant commentary on not wanting that. Still, not something to focus on now. Whenever she lay in bed later, she could stare up at the ceiling and ponder what many things she’d done to mess up.

Right now, though, she could help, and she’d do it, no matter what happened. “Yep, I’ll do it, and I’ll make sure I don’t get hurt, though I dunno if I can, really, uh, because of the whole mare thing. Still. Safe. I’ll be that. I like being that.” Just opposite of her cousin, but Emilio didn’t need to hear about that, and Ariadne didn’t need to focus on that. “I’m - I’ll go, now.” And so she took off, darting into an enclosed crater-like formation in the wall. She could only hope the creature would follow her there.

“Doesn’t get much worse, kid.” They were trapped in a mine with an undead creature Emilio had only heard about, the kind that was impossible to kill without consequence. There were very few scenarios worse than this one, whether she talked or not. But her being quiet wasn’t exactly a bad thing, either; at least it would make it a little easier for Emilio to think.

Looking at her carefully, he narrowed his eyes. “You can still get hurt,” he told her flatly. “Yes, you can still get hurt. You need to know that.” He didn’t want the kid running around assuming she was invincible; that was going to end poorly. She took off, and he nodded, sighing to himself. Whatever. They could handle the Q&A above ground.

Wandering down a chamber, Emilio searched until he found an area with some equipment. It was dusty and old; he doubted it had been used in quite a while. But there was a stick of dynamite that wasn’t too damp to light, and he grabbed it and headed back towards the mare and the monster as quickly as he was able. “Kid,” he called through the mine, “I’m headed back to you. Are you ready?”

“That’s fair.” Even if Ariadne wanted to refute his statement, because stuff could get worse, but there was also a part of her who wanted to say that life was normally golden and good - which it was, but not in the way that most people would have expected, and her jokes were usually tinged with the slightest bit of sadness, anyhow. Even when she wasn’t intentionally being that way.

“I - I know.” She looked down at the ground. “I know I can, I can get badly hurt, but I’m still better suited than humans.” Ariadne’s eyes widened at that statement. “I didn’t mean like - I’m not better than anybody, in fact, I’m worse than most, but yeah - I just mean, better me getting stuck with it than a human.”

After what felt like far too long and far too short, she heard his voice again. “Yeah, yeah I am. Just - do it when you’re ready.”

She was clearly new to this, and she clearly wouldn’t have chosen it if she’d been given a choice. That was the kind of thing that Emilio felt made it easier to reform as a slayer than as a ranger or a warden — none of the people Emilio had ever hunted had been born as they were. A good number of them chose to become it, asked someone to turn them for one reason or another. It made it a little easier to shift, to recognize that the ones that hadn’t chose it were set apart.

It also meant there were less kids. The undead didn’t typically turn children, for a lot of reasons. Even twenty-somethings like this kid were rarer than older ones. He thought if he’d been born a ranger or a warden, if he’d been dealing with kids like this all his life, he might have turned heel sooner. He liked to think that. He wasn’t sure if it was true.

He left without saying anything else, didn’t speak again until he was asking her if she was ready and she was saying she was. “All right,” he agreed, following the sound of her voice to a narrow opening. Sharp eyes peered through the darkness, seeing that she’d led the monster inside and that the only escape was the one he was standing in front of. Perfect. “Count of three. Okay? Uno, dos…”

The explosion rocked the mines. Rocks fell from the ceiling, and Emilio just barely dodged a sizable one landing on his head. When the dust settled, the opening he’d been standing in front of was gone, replaced by stone and earth. “Okay, kid. Hope you can still hear me. Come on out, through the astral.”

She figured that if she was helping with this sort of thing, maybe – just maybe that meant she was still good - or, not good, but that there was maybe some bit of good still left in her. That she hadn’t totally destroyed who she was. Ariadne sniffled for a moment.

Ariadne let herself take in deep breaths that she really didn’t need as he counted. The explosion was still louder than she would have thought it’d be. So much so, that his voice made her jump, shake her head, re-remind herself that she was supposed to come out of this, and so she took another deep breath and focused on her memory of the space outside of the cave, and before she knew it, she was there, and shook her head, wiping a bit of mine-dust off her nose.

“Here. I’m - did we do it? Did you do it, I mean?”

There was a moment of quiet, a moment where the empty caverns of the mine stood still and, for a second, Emilio worried that he’d fucked up. That something had landed on her and crushed her, that he’d killed the kid in trapping the monster. He shouldn’t feel a panic at that, not with an undead kid, not when he was supposed to be a slayer, but he felt it anyway. That quiet fear, that cold dread.

And then, she was out in the open with him, and he let out a heavy breath of relief. Unharmed, in one piece. He could hear movement from the cavern she’d vacated, the angry sounds of a trapped beast. He didn’t know if it would hold it forever, but it didn’t need to. If he remembered right, these things had no idea how to get out of their respective ‘homes’ unless there was someone to follow. And after Emilio and the kid left, there’d be nothing left to follow.

“Yeah, kid,” he sighed, nodding his head. “We did it. Couldn’t have done it without you.” At least, not nearly as easily. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

She’d helped. In some small way, but she’d still helped. Not made things worse, for once. “Let’s go, please. And I promise not to follow you into the woods anymore, without asking.” Ariadne sighed. “But yes. I think I need a shower, or - well, not a nap, but just to lie down. Thanks for not leaving me down there.” She offered him a small smile. “And thanks for saying I helped, too.”

#c emilio #chatzy #writing #yours mine and ours #wickedswriting #// sorry for no cool banner #i love bex and i love emilio #and <3333

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 1 year

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Hi, M!

Congrats on the 500 milestone!

I'd like to request

Orome x fem reader

Prompt list 1 is all so good but I think I'll go with either "Spread your legs wider" or "Show me how much you need me"

Make it extra spicy, please!

Thank you 🫣😋😚

Thank you for the ask! As for your prompt selection, how about we combine both?

Prompts: "Spread your legs wider" and "Show me how much you need me" | Setting: Woods of Oromë

“The chase”

Pairing: Oromë x Fem. reader (Maia | Second person POV)

Themes: Smut | Soft

Word count: 1.3k words

Summary: A game of hide and seek ends up being more than that.

Rating: 🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here

Telperion’s pale light lit up the meadow. It was pretty, with a little pond and fireflies all over. Vivid streaks of blue and silver mingled with the gold of the fireflies, making the water sparkle as if a thousand stars blinked beneath the surface. It was most spectacular, but you couldn't stay to enjoy it. Not while the chase was still afoot.

"Where are you, little sparrow?" A deep voice echoed through the woods. "Come out! Come out wherever you are!"

You picked up your skirts and ran, giggling merrily to yourself. Oromë was out there, somewhere, trailing you like the skilled hunter that he was. It was a game the two of you sometimes played, with him tracking you and you hiding from him. And he always found you. No matter where you hid or what you did, Oromë always found you and always claimed his reward. You felt your skin prickle at that thought and wondered how he would claim his reward after catching you this time.

You heard nothing, save for the leaves rustling in the wind and the grass crunching beneath your feet. You saw nothing, save for the trees that stood like silent sentinels and the fireflies flitting about. That was the problem with Oromë, for he was most skilled at concealing himself. He could be a foot behind you, and you wouldn't even notice. Not until he was practically on top of you. You ran and ran, questioning your decision to run around in nothing but a nightgown and a robe. If one of the other Ainur saw you...

"There you are!" Oromë suddenly appeared from behind the trees and tackled you to the ground, bringing you down on the soft spring grass with a low thud.

"My lord," you giggled, breathless and giddy, as he caged you to the ground. "This is most unfair. I can never escape you."

Oromë merely chuckled and kept you pinned beneath him, his arms holding you in a loose embrace. "I thought you never wanted to escape me."

"Fibber," you lied, and rather poorly at that. Deep down, there was a small part of you that longed to be found, to be captured, and these chases were something you always looked forward to.

Oromë laughed this time, the star-like flecks in his inky black eyes gleaming with a light all of their own. "You are in no position to call me a liar," he grinned, his hand already undoing the belt on your robe. "For I can see it in your eyes. Oh yes. Deep down, you want me to find you. And claim you. And have my way with you. Do you deny it?"

You couldn't deny it and shook your head. Oromë grinned, a slow, wicked grin, as he drew away your robe and exposed the wisps that lay beneath. "What is this?" he asked, eyeing the sheer material with darkening eyes.

"A new nightgown," you said, your heart fluttering when his hand glided over the fabric. "One the Eldar prefers. Do you like it?"

"Indeed," Oromë kept looking at the shift, at how it moved beneath his hand, at how the material left little to the imagination, and at how it clung to you with every breath you took. "Such a shame though, to have to rip it all up."

"My lord," you muttered half-heartedly, your defenses slowly crumbling when his hand went lower, tugging at your skirts and hiking them up to your waist so he could run his hand down your thigh. "I cannot go back to the halls in tattered garments! What will everyone think?"

Oromë smirked, his eye glinting wickedly. "I do not care what the others think. And neither should you." He propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand gliding along the inside of your thigh. "Now, I believe it is time for my reward."

Your agreement was drowned in his kiss, one that was hungry and so demanding, his tongue forcing its way past your lips. Oromë growled when your arms twined around his shoulders and your fingers dug into his tunic.

"Go on," he sighed blissfully when you moaned his name. "Show me how much you need me."

That undid you, and you kissed him back with equal fire, your fingers nearly ripping at his clothes. Oromë's hand streaked its way all over your thigh and belly, moving over your shift and yanking down at your collar in a swift but impatient move. There was a sharp rip, and the cloth tore clean down the center. You were past caring at this point, and the cool air dancing over your skin only served to inflame you even more.

"Mmm, little sparrow," Oromë touched you again and again, his hand greedy and possessive, warming your exposed fana wherever it touched. "How I love the sounds you make."

You had been babbling his name, begging him to take you right there on the forest floor. It was so sweet and heady to hear, and Oromë gladly obliged, cupping you first, slowly rubbing his fingers over your slick heat. His touch was slow and rhythmic, stoking the heat already pooling in your belly. Oromë couldn't help but groan when you ground into his hand.

"Soaking wet for me already," he muttered in satisfaction. "Good. I'm going to fuck you until I feel that sweet little cunt of yours clenching around my cock."

"Please, my lord," you mewled helplessly. You felt like you were already burning to your core, your fana aching with growing need. You couldn't wait anymore. You wanted him inside of you now. "Just take me, my lord. Please."

Oromë growled and let go, helping you undo the clasps of his breeches. The two of you were impatient and fumbled, and you giggled at each other's clumsiness. It still served, and his erection soon filled your hand. Oromë closed his eyes as you stroked him, the lewd sounds he made peppering the air repeatedly. The warmth of your touch was not enough for him, and he pushed you onto your back, moaning when your hands delved into his thick black hair.

"Spread your legs wider," he breathed, his voice already rough, his length already piercing your entrance. You rested your legs over his, a deep moan spilling past your lips when he entered you in one thrust, his cock filling the very deepest parts of your throbbing cunt. When your next moan spilled free he moved, fucking you slowly, his lips and teeth already marking the soft flesh around your throat.

His hips ground against the insides of your thighs; his hand gripped hard at your hip, his fingers leaving little crescent-shaped bruises and marring your skin. His moans soon matched yours; his sinful mouth left its mark all over your throat. You encouraged him, to be rougher, to go harder and faster, his thrusts growing more erratic each time he pushed his hips in and pushed you harder against the ground. Your fana tensed as this wave of unimaginable bliss rose higher and higher, pulling you into a dark tunnel of desire. Your hands raked through Oromë's hair, tugging at it and making him moan even more. You were so close, so very close. So was he. When you cried out and your walls clenched around his cock, he surrendered as his orgasm ripped through him. He moaned, a deep, throaty moan, as he spilled his seed, his body slowly coming to rest over yours.

Consciousness came slowly as you blinked and opened your eyes. Oromë was still on top of you, his chest heaving against yours. "My lord," you whispered, smoothing back his hair. The sweet scent of him, that of a pine forest in spring, mixed with the scent of new grass and wildflowers, and you couldn't help but take a deep breath of all of it. "Do we have to go back?"

"We must," Oromë murmured reluctantly, and he moved to his side, taking you with him. "In case someone comes looking for us. You can use my cloak. No one will say anything."

Tags: @cilil @asianbutnotjapanese @fictionfordays @edensrose

#🔥 spicy spring fling 🔥#oromë #Oromë x reader #Oromë smut #Orome smut #The valar #The ainur #reader request #Reader insert #x reader #The silm #the silmarilion #The silm smut #writeblr #💫a world of whimsy writes

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glitchydyke · 1 year

Note

Top 10 fictional babygirl meow meow men?

YES MY FUCKING SILLIES

1. adam i cannot stress how much obsessed with him i’ve become. he is literally everything to me HES MY SOGGY CAT GIRLFRIEND AND I AM KISSING HIM SO MUCH RIGHT NOW THIS SECOND. RESTRAINING MYSELF FROM GOING ON A TANGENT ABT HIM RN

2. EDGEWORTHHH hes my babygirl i want to wrap him in a blanket and hold him close :) he has so many issues you would not believe

3. BYAKUYA. SHAKING HIM REPEATEDLY WHAT IS WRONG W THIS GUY

4. loid forger he has so many illnesses in his brain hes like a guy to me. congrats to WISE they malewifed their top spy

5. phoenix wright HE IS SO SILLIE. hes like if a girlfriend was a guy

6. LAWRENCE FROM SAW MY FRIEND LAWRENCE FROM SAW. CRINGEFAIL GAY BEST FRIEND I HOPE HE EXPLODES but then i would put him back together afterwards

7. HUNTER and the reason he’s not higher on this list is bc in my heart hes a meow meow baby not a man. do you get me. thats a child. my son. he is however sopping wet

8. CHAT NOIR MY FUNNY GUY. kitty :)

9. tom wachowski u have to trust me on this one. hes shapey

10. mark hoffman and the only reason he’s not higher is bc ive only partially met him so far. i do however deeply enjoy his role in the saw movies being 1. bitchboy and 2. whore. cant wait to see him fuck a man live on screen

#HUNTER IS HIGHER IN MY HEART BUT HES NOT A MAN HES A GUY. DO YOU GET ME #asks

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arceoptryx · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,217 times in 2022

That's 1,217 more posts than 2021!

424 posts created (35%)

793 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

arcaeasine

pomodoko

orangekingfisher

vesperway

nervousmonolith

I tagged 336 of my posts in 2022

#artcaeasine - 38 posts

#digital art - 19 posts

#here filter out my thoughts - 17 posts

#illustration - 16 posts

#my art - 15 posts

#clip studio paint - 14 posts

#mcyt fanart - 13 posts

#mcsr - 13 posts

#oc art - 13 posts

#self reblog - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#didnt list this as an inspiration but my foundational internet experience was being in the twitch plays pokemon community long past its peak

My Top Posts in 2022:

doodle of guy whose base has crabs

125 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

oranged ocelot ??? no way no way no way no way sooooo epic

148 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

build a vault. go on. do it. i swear to god.

no yeah uhh interpretation of the architect vaults from ye olde vault hunters minecraft modpack y'know. nah because i only really got into watching the smp during the bav event (the streamers i watched b4 that went inactive sajj) ,,, good times good times.

148 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

fucked around and made a vh!tubbo design because the series doesn't get enough fanart and I'm the change i want to see in the world. bossman shows up after 6 months and makes himself a problem to everyone, honestly an iconic move.

158 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

congrats mr streamer man on (hopefully) finishing automating / semi-automating every vault altar requirement. been an experience to watch. also don't talk to me about the color change effect on the crystals it was so tedious to draw. still version under the cut.

258 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #vh frogs you guys are based

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rexsjaigeyes · 3 years

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okay okay uuuuhhh 26 + din 🥺👉👈 luv u queen you’re a gem huge big congrats 💖✨‼️💘🥰

Thank you vee!! This one is special bc of your immaculate top energy 😏 you’ll see what I mean...

Prompt #26 by @starrynightdeancas: “That shouldn’t be such a turn on, but holy hell, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Din Djarin x gender neutral reader | NSFW, 18+

Words: 992

Warnings: canon-typical violence, suggestive content

A/N: Once again, I changed the prompt’s wording a lil bit bc I can

Din had done some questionable things in his life as a bounty hunter, but he would be damned if he was going to expose you to the same violence he was accustomed to. Aside from the child, you were the most important person in the galaxy to him. So if he had the chance to control a situation that would otherwise be too gruesome to watch, he'd make sure to tone things down for you. This was one of those situations.

In his endeavor to find more Mandalorians, the two of you stumbled across a rather stubborn Arconan who had answers that Din needed. The only trouble was that they weren't keen on giving Din any information without a price. Under normal circumstances, he would have just gotten the information by force, especially since the Arconan seemed to enjoy pushing all his buttons. But you were with him this time, and he promised himself he wouldn't let the situation get out of hand for your sake. So, with much annoyance, Din desperately tried to negotiate a deal with the Arconan so that he could leave before doing something he would regret.

Little did Din know that you were at your wit's end as well, and it was obvious the negotiations weren't going anywhere. Din stiffened when you slammed your hands down on the table you were seated at. Curious about your sudden outburst, he tilted his head in your direction — only to watch in shock as you approached the Arconan in two strides before balling a fist in the front of their tunic and slamming them against a nearby wall.

"I'm tired of your games," you sneered. "Tell us what we want to know or we'll collect the bounty on your head. And don't worry… we don't need the extra credits that come with bringing you in alive," you threatened in a low voice.

Your threat caused the Arconan to tremble, and even Din felt a bit intimidated by your words. He had never seen you like this before, and he wondered how such a sweet and innocent person like you had been hiding this side of you for so long. Din felt a rush of pride and something else that he couldn't put his finger on — until you pushed the Arconan further against the wall, and they let out a squeak. That was when Din understood the odd feeling buzzing through his body. He knew it shouldn’t have been such a turn on to watch you threaten some lowlife, but seeing you take control like that was the hottest thing he had ever seen. For a moment, he didn’t even care about getting the answers he came for — he just wanted to rush back to the ship with you and see if you could take control like that in bed instead.

His heart pounded in his chest, and it was almost like he could hear his heartbeat echo through the hollow beskar of his helmet. Din was so lost in his thoughts of being under your control that he didn’t even realize you had finished prying the information out of the Arconan. His mind felt foggy with lust, but he shook himself out of it and watched as you cuffed the grumbling Arconan to the table with a satisfied smile. It took every effort for Din not to groan as he focused on the way your hands fiddled with the binders to make sure they were secure.

The Arconan pleaded with you to let them go, but neither you nor Din cared about who would find them and claim their bounty. You nudged Din’s shoulder, pulling him from his trance before he stood from his seat and followed you back to the ship. He grimaced at the first movement, realizing that his pants felt tighter than usual. His helmet hid the slight blush forming on his cheeks, but you were too observant to miss the obvious tent in his pants.

He noticed the smirk on your face before you teased, “Wanna talk about what caused you to get all hot and bothered, Mando?”

Din felt like a blubbering mess all of a sudden, not expecting the day to turn out like this at all. The two of you had been intimate with each other many times before, but Din always assumed that you liked it when he was the one in charge. Now, he started to question what it would be like if you took all the weight off his shoulders and showed him what you were really capable of. And by the sly look on your face and the teasing lilt of your voice, he could tell that you were up for the challenge.

Clearing his throat, he muttered, “I won’t lie, it was hot to see you take charge like that. You should do it more often... and in private.” His voice trailed off, and he felt like all the boldness he once had was transferred to you as you confidently strode into the Razor Crest a few steps in front of him.

You waited for him to close the ramp to the ship and join you near the small bunk the two of you shared. His heart felt like it stopped when you beckoned him over with one finger and a devilish grin. You clearly had a plan, and he was eager to find out what it entailed. Din crossed the length of the ship before stopping in front of you, and you twisted your hand around the collar of his cape to pull him closer like you did with the Arconan.

His mouth went dry as you leaned close with a devious twinkle in your eye. He waited with bated breath until you whispered, “If you wanted to find out what it’s like when I’m in charge, you could have just asked. Now be good for me and tell me exactly what you want.”

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

sukirichi’s 2.4k milestone event

weee another milestone and nooo i couldn’t wait for 2.5k because i’m so excited and happy, thank you so much! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ including HAIKYUU this time around yeeeee! also i don’t have a restaurant aesthetic anymore, just kind of goofing around now! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

before you request...

please read about my writings first! it will include the stuff i write and don’t write about. i’m more flexible in nsfw works, so if you really want to try for a kink, just send me in and if the idea is up to my liking, we’ll see how it goes!

please be patient and nice! if i don’t like the tone of your request or if you’re ‘demanding’ me, aka, “hey, write this for me, this concept...” your ask will immediately be deleted!

no requesting of the same idea to other writers please!

please keep in mind i don’t do too much canon-heavy plots, aka really specific canon events and how they lead up to one another. i don’t read the manga for both jjk and haikyuu ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ

I do not do headcanons anymore. I’m not good at them LMAO.

i feel a lot more laid back in my writings now, so i’ll only be taking requests that i want to write for! the accepted requests will be listed down below as i organize them

you may refer to my first milestone event if you want more ideas for AU requests! you no longer need to include the numbers/spices/ingredients format used in that. just send whatever idea you want ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU. whichever idea i love the MOST will be turned into a series just because I want to try new things hehe!

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, miya twins, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, bokuto koutarou, akaashi keiji, tetsuro kuroo

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

: kenma kozume

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin, ryoumen sukuna, gojo satoru

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

accepted requests: (only accepting the ones that interest me for now!)

favorites marked as ⭐

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: hello love!! i know it LITERALLY just came out but would you consider a pt 2 or a drabble for sweet lies? where megumi either catches her and sukuna or she genuinely starts moving on uasdfghj i'm convinced that megumi heard her fucking sukuna in the bathroom <3 anyways pls feel free to ignore me too

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ma’am , i beg of u ,,, spare husband! sukuna x wife! reader drabble. I just read your arranged marriage AU and lordddd i’m obsessed. How long did it take for him to take her virginity 😳? i’m so curious as to how that went down read here: black magic [02]

⭐⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Yooooo how about Rockstar Sukuna seducing his manager ehehehehe~

⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ok but... pirate captain Sukuna 👀👀👀 I’m havin some Thots ngl 🥵🤤 I can’t decide whether reader should be the first mate and they’re a kickass Power Couple 💪😎or if she should be a stowaway who gets found out and has to pay for her passage with her body 😩😉

OKKOTSU YUTA: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi saw that your request are open and congrats for the 2.4k !! 🎊 if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that's his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it's y/n and she doesn't die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3 | kiss me more

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: Toge's S/O being so sad that even when he says "smile" it doesn't work( also saw that in TikTok)

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta's sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please🥺Maybe they meet one day when she went to visit the school? Or she's a new sorcerer. Aahhhh I can't think of anything so I'll leave it up to your wonderful mind😌 Thank you! And again congrats! | crush

INUMAKI TOGE: SUKI OMG SIREN AU WITH TOGE AND DEAF READERHis voice hypnotizes all who hear it but she’s unaffected and he’s shook lmao 😂 She teaches him human sign language so they can communicate 🥺 maybe when he realizes he likes her he brings her seashells and other shiny things from the sea floor and it’s so cute 🥰 just 🥺🥺 siren Toge 🥺🥺🥺 (DEBATING)

GOJO SATORU: Hello dear Suki! 🤗 congrats on your more than deserved milestone 👏🏼🥳 I know it’s not the restaurant aesthetic anymore but still, thank you for being a Michelin-star chef spoiling the fandom with your food 🤤👀 I’d love to request the following: ingredient 66 with sugar 8 & 9 and Gojou as cherry on top 🥰 some heavy angst with a happy / smutty ending. additional 🍪 for inspiration - „Best friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her. You never know what will happen, tomorrow might be too late“. Have a lovely day dear 💕

GOJO SATORU: Congrats on 2.4K!!!! May I please request a fic where the reader has like. Zero reaction to Gojo? And he’s kinda shook bc people either adore him or hate him, but here’s reader acting like he’s just a normal dude. And he starts falling for her bc he’s never experienced that before

⭐ GOJO SATORU: a reader that likes Gojo but immediately says N O P E bc they clock that he’s at risk of breaking their heart so they just try to avoid getting close to him despite being a teacher stuck with him a lot of the time. And Gojo is just like ??? But I like you??? Why are you always avoiding me? “I’m tired of you acting like I can’t commit to something. Committing to you is easy.”

⭐ GOJO SATORU: ♡Soft nsfw scenario with s/o and gojo while outside is snowing read here: cold

⭐ GOJO SATORU: Ohoho~ another milestone! Congrats~Can I get Vampire!Satoru x Monster Hunter!Reader where he “proves” to her that all of his victims came willingly(I think from the AU choice you’ll know exactly who I am lol 😉)

⭐ GOJO SATORU: hello! first and foremost, congratulations on reaching 2.4k! i love your writing and its just oh my goodness <3 your stories made my heart squeezed! second of all, i'd like to propose a request for a story. fluff/angst (up to you! your way of writing is just superb) mixed with nsfw gojo satoru. a modern business tycoon au where he just lost his wife and is overprotective of his 1 year old toddler. you're his new staff in the office and is treated badly bcs you know, new staff. one day, you stumbled upon your boss and his baby in a shop, who wont stop crying and he took an interest in you when you managed to calm his kid down. he hired you as his babysitter + made you move into his estate. from there, your life changed! also, thank you for accompanying my days with your stories, it's marvelous! 💕

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: okay i thought you might like this idea for the event (or maybe not lol) - naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man's gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ | good girl

NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Stage magician Naoya and his cute little assistant, where every other trick works to undress or strategically rip her outfit so he can show off his little bunny to the crowd before fucking her brainless backstage

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: listen ,,,,, ur naoya hate fic goes crazy stupid may i add something. naoya being overprotective like reader is so pretty and many of the clan men look at them a lottttt and naoya out of nowhere will kiss you in front of them or will grab them in front the maids and workers. then reader becomes mad and they get into an argument and then hate fuck :D lmaoo (THIS REQUEST PLEASEEEE SEND ME TO HEAVEN) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Omg Suki! Congrats on the 2.4k! So uhmm I decided to take a break from the Kita/Naoya twin au angst 👉👈 idk if you are still accepting requests but HAS ANYONE EVER MENTIONED OR HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED SUGAR DADDY NAOYA????? 🥺 -🌸

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: Megumi being insecure about his eyes because they are a very light green colour( like in manga) so he wears blue contacts( I saw that on TikTok and... big brain energy)

⭐ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: SUKI, HI! First of all, congrats on 2.4K you absolutely deserve every single milestone coming your way 💞💞If it’s not too much to ask may I request a one-shot with megumi where he’s jealous that his fem!crush is spending more time with Itadori and sees how she enjoys his company a lot but it’s purely platonic? Reader likes megumi too and they both need that push in the right direction?Thanks so much if you decide to write this 🥺💖 I seriously love your writing and your big brain sm

CHOSO: Could you write something with Choso and the reader that has a toxic mother (if that actually exists. She controls everything the reader does, and plays with her mind/ feelings making her feel like she's the bad one)?But after a fight with the mom, the reader has enough and just leaves deciding they will finally do what they want, ending up at a tattoo shop, where Choso is the tattoo artist.Ngl, i'd like this to be nsfw because i am thirsting for this man ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)Don't really have kink preferences but if you could include size and breeding kink then i'd be hella thankful ☺

GETOU SUGURU: Yo how about a Victorian AU with Gentleman Thief!Getou and Debutante!Reader nsfw 👀👀 maybe she hears something in the dark and goes to investigate and gets pressed to the wall with a knife at her throat 👀🥵

FUSHIGURO TOJI: can we get a part two of the "lessons learned" toji fic 👉🏽👈🏽 maybe him fucking and overstimulating her so hard she cries and begs for mercy but no mercy will be given. maybe he uses the same handcuffs she used for him on her 🥰 maybe some manhandling cause im a hoe for letting a man throw me around

⭐ KAGEYAMA TOBIO (fckin finally): kageyama tobio x reader fic for mutual virginity loss? maybe they just haven’t had time with him being a fancy schmancy volleyball player, maybe there’s just nerves, i don’t know! i’ll leave it up to u babe <3

⭐ SUNA RINTARO: hi!! congrats on the 2.4k HEHE just wanted to request a suna and tattoo/flower shop au? idk just the thought of tattooed suna is like. mm yes

⭐ SUNA RINTARO/AKAASHI KEIJI: hi suki!! i’m so excited for your event! so i rarely ever see someone else who loves both akaashi and suna so i was wondering if you could write something for them! maybe apocalypse au?? or roommate au?? i was thinking y/n could have a relationship/be fuck buddies with one of them and some smutty exhibitionism happens with the other watching, and then some pining that ends in a threesome if you write those! if not, then just a smutty n filthy little love triangle that you can choose an ending for lol (a happy one would be nice bc my heart can only handle so much angst, but really it’s up to you and what inspires you!!) tysm for doing this event and always working so hard <3

⭐ OIKAWA TOORU: hi i love your writing!! can i please request work au (boss oikawa x secretary fem reader?) with degradation and him fucking your in the window 😭💗💗

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #ryoumen sukuna #uhh im lazy #to tag #THANK YOU FOR THE MILESTONE <3 #sukirichi #suki: 2.4k milestone event

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beebrainedstudios · 3 years

Note

if you ever have the time for it i am DYING to see what your holland playlist would look like!

Well, in that case...

Here’s Heavy Is The Head, an ADSOM Holland Vosijk playlist for all your bitter Antari needs! This playlist is long, but that’s because it’s specially formulated to have songs suited to different points in Holland’s life, and they appear in order so you can listen to specific events at your pleasure! So anon/anyone else looking, if you’ll indulge me, here’s a list of all the songs used, some with notes describing their place here;

First, general thoughts. I wanted this playlist to have plenty of dark ambient moments, but also several harsh and defiant ones, too; Holland is not as much of a sad character to me as he is angry, and a lot of his power and drive comes from a place of vengeance, wrath, and righteous justice. So, there’s a lot of rock, folk, and indie pop here. I tried to include all types of music to suit different tastes too, since I’m fairly diverse with my music choices. All that said-

Disclaimer: Some of these songs have profanity/swearing in them. As well, some of them have dark themes, undertones, and implications, so know that ahead of time. It’s a Holland playlist- I don’t feel like there’s anything here that’s darker than canon, but it’s still something any potential listeners should know. Consider this your warning.

Part 1- A Darker Shade Of Magic

Hollow (Cloudeater)

“I stay empty, I feel the hunger…”

Look Away (The Dear Hunter)

“And don’t you misjudge what I’m capable of, if I’m heir to a broken will…”

Wrath of Man (Chris Benstead)

(No lyrics, just the creeping sense of a vengeful creature stalking you. If anyone’s seen this movie, you’ll get the tone it sets.)

Paul Newman vs The Demons- Avett Brothers

“You may have to drag me away from my demons, kicking and screaming…”

Oleander (Mother Mother)

“I”ll be unclean, I’ll be obscene, you’ll be the rest…”

(Holland from the perspective of the Danes, specifically Athos.)

The Wolf (Phildel)

“The wishes I’ve made are too vicious to tell…”

Pain (Three Days Grace)

“Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all..”

(Here half as a callback to an old joke and half because Holland is not immune to an edgy rock phase.)

Black Eyes (Radical Face)

“My heart will be blacker than your eyes when I’m through with you..”

Arsonist’s Lullaby (Hozier)

“On all the ashes in my wake…”

(Holland, willing or no, is still canonly an arsonist. Also, Hozier.)

P.O.L.I.T.I.C.S. (MISSIO)

“This friendship is worse than, P-O-L-I-T-I-C-S…”

(One of the most diametric differences between Holland and Kell is their views on each other’s kingdoms.)

In The Air Tonight (Natalie Taylor)

“If you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand…”

Blood On My Name (The Brothers Bright)

“Nowhere to run, nowhere to run, nowhere to run…”

(Mood for the beginning of the final Holland vs. Kell fight in ADSOM)

One Way Or Another (Until The Ribbon Breaks)

“And if the lights are all down…”

(End of the fight, Holland’s death #1, and his fall into Black London)

Part 2- A Gathering of Shadows

Bleeding White (Avett Brothers)

“I’m bleeding gold in the streets, but there’s no one to see, because the kingdom is empty…”

(Holland’s king now.)

Kings (Tribe Society)

“I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain, and make myself a king…”

When They Come For Me (Linkin Park)

“And it seems ugly, but it can get worse…”

Me And Mine (The Brothers Bright)

“I will burn your kingdom down, if you try to conquer me and mine…”

(Holland making some foreign relations plans.)

Feeling Good (Michael Buble)

“It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life…”

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (Set It Off)

“Tell me how you’re sleeping easy, how you’re only thinking of yourself…”

(Holland’s revenge arc starts.)

Choke (IDKHBTFM)

“I wouldn’t hesitate, to smile while you suffocate…”

Roman Empire (MISSIO)

“You’re an empire, the darkest of empires…”

(Holland’s view of Red London.)

My Name (Charlie Winston)

“I won't apologize for the mess that you're in, I'm gonna hide my eyes from your crimson sin…”

Liver Lungs Spleen Heart (Chris Benstead)

(Again, no lyrics, but this is the mood when Holland’s plan really starts coming into effect.)

Have It Out (Mother Mother)

“But what is he good for, if he’s just a spectator of war, I have it in for, have it in for, have it in for…”

(Holland and Kell’s “conversation” at the end of AGOS + Holland’s grudge against Kell in general.)

The Yawning Grave (Lord Huron)

“Darkness brings evil things, oh the reckoning begins…”

(The tables turn on Holland.)

Burn Him Down (Kitsch Club)

“This Woodsy’s been worn one too many a time…”

(For context, this song is about burning the suit of a retired Forest Service mascot, which in a twisted way is parallel to Osaron possessing Holland. In short, destroy the old guy because he’s damaged and worn- AKA Holland.)

Part 3- A Conjuring Of Light

The Waking Nightmare (Frankenstein World Premiere Recording)

“I’m here in the waking nightmare, and every moment tastes of death…”

Four Walls/The Ballad of Perry Smith (Bastille)

“Now we’re faced with two wrongs, I don’t know, no I don’t know…”

(Holland facing his imminent execution.)

Bring Me To Life (Evanescence)

“Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul- don't let me die here…”

(How could I not include this?)

Sin Triangle (Sidney Gish)

“I've got to work on my face now, I'm wearing shades when it's dark out, but don't you worry I'm just being cool, like everybody else around this school…”

(Holland while on the boat/observing the rest of the group.)

I’m So Sorry (Imagine Dragons)

“You’ll never know the top ‘till you get too low…”

Human (Rag’n’Bone Man)

“I’m only human, that’s all it takes, don’t put the blame on me…”

Sing To Me (MISSIO)

“Sing to me 'cause I can't hear myself, through the loudness of my own hurts…”

I Will Not Bow (Breaking Benjamin)

“And I am not proud, cold-blooded, fake, I will shut the world away…”

(The final battle with Osaron.)

Up The Wolves (The Mountain Goats)

“It’s gonna take you people years to recover from all of the damage…”

(Holland’s sacrifice.)

Part 4- Backstory/Life Flashing Before His Eyes

Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise (Avett Brothers)

“And there was a kid with a head full of doubt, so I’ll scream ‘till I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out…”

(Holland’s grand destiny.)

A Dustland Fairytale (The Killers)

“Is there still magic in the midnight sun, or did you leave it back in sixty-one, in the cadence of a young man’s eyes…”

(Holland as the Someday King.)

Borderland (John Marc McMillan)

“Help me Holy Lord, I see the light of Heaven’s porch, but so many of us are born here outside your chain-link fence…”

(Holland growing up and meeting Vortalis.)

Poor George (James Supercave)

“Poor George, poor George, he never learned how to stop…”

(Vortalis’ reign and subsequent death.)

I Knew You Once (Hollie Allen)

“Yes, I knew you once, and it was nice…”

(Holland’s past relationships and how he misses them.)

Bohemian Rhapsody (Panic! At The Disco)

“Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters…”

(Holland’s entire life flashing before his eyes, riddled with pain, power, and a refusal to submit.)

Part 5- The End

Kettering (The Antlers)

“And I didn’t believe them when they told me that there was no saving you…”

(Kell and Holland preparing to leave for White London, with Kell wishing things could be different and Holland wishing they had been.)

Never Been Alive (Avett Brothers)

“I’ve never been alive, like I am now…”

Numb (MARINA)

“And I’ll light up the sky, stars that burn the brightest fall so fast and pass you by, cough like empty lighters…”

(Holland’s final death- the end.)

Congrats to everyone who read this far- this is my first playlist, so I may have gone a bit overboard. Please enjoy, and let me know if there’s any other ADSOM characters I should do one of these for!

#adsom #a darker shade of magic #shades of magic #adsom playlist #holland vosijk #white london #profanity warning

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n3rdybird · 4 years

Text

Pilots and Penance

Star Wars

Poe Dameron x Reader

Prompt: I need a hug

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Depression and Angst

Written for @fictionalabyss 3K Celebration! Congrats!

The heat and humidity of D’Qar did little to warm your numb limbs. You squinted as the light filtered into the hangar. It had been a while since you had seen proper sunlight, your mission had kept you confined to nights on Coruscant. Although known as a bright spot in the systems, the underbelly of the Galactic City was still rife with black market shops and smugglers. Without the full support of the New Republic, the Resistance needed your contacts and knowledge of the less savory parts of the galaxy. It was dangerous work, sometimes too dangerous. If only you had-

You were brought out of your thoughts when a hand touched your shoulder. You looked up to see the familiar face of the resident flyboy, Poe Dameron.

“(Y/N), the General is ready for debriefing.”

You felt the eyes of other Resistance members staring at you, you could feel their questions, their shock, their anger. You straightened and nodded mutely.

------------------------------------------------------

In the middle of the night cycle, you found yourself in the showers. It was quiet, most of the staff asleep, only a skeleton crew up and running essential functions. You weren’t sure that the numbness in your limbs was from the cold water blasting from the showerhead or the crippling guilt in your heart.

Was it your fault?

You heard the whispers ever since you arrived, semi-conned into joining the Resistance when the bounty you were chasing saved your life. Even if you were vetted by the poster boy of the rebel group, Poe Dameron, who you were seriously regretting listening to.

“What’s a bounty hunter doing here?”

“She can’t be trusted.”

“Bounty hunters have no honor. She’ll sell us out to the highest bidder.”

And now the new ones.

“Bounty hunters only care for themselves.”

“She probably let him die.”

“She’s so cold, I bet she doesn’t care.”

“She just left his body there.”

You didn’t blame them. You followed the mission. When one of the Resistance members on your command messed up, it was on your head. It had been an impossible choice. Let one die to save the rest of your mission. This was why you preferred to work alone. You weren’t used to being responsible for others. You weren’t used to having to make a call for someone else’s life. You were a solo bounty hunter; rarely worked with anyone more than a contact, not wanting to share the reward. And bounty crews were more trouble than they were worth. Arguments about how the money should be divided, crews getting too large, having to go after bigger and better scores just to keep everyone paid well. It was too much. It was simpler on your own. If you made a mistake, it was only your ass on the line.

The General didn’t seem to blame you, though you knew she took every loss to heart. During the briefing, you went over the mission over and over again. High Command went through your reports, trying to figure if there was a leak or traitor. If you were a traitor. While it was to be expected, you tensed with every question. You tried to keep your eyes from straying to the dark-haired commander of Black Squadron, waiting for him to step in, maybe even come to your defense. But he was all “Commander Dameron”, not the friendly pilot who had wormed his way under your skin and bypassed your icy exterior.

You had been cleared of any misconduct officially, Jannak Kirhen died in the line of duty, but you did not feel any relief. You slipped away from the main part of the Resistance base, keeping to yourself until it was well into the night cycle before you chanced a shower in the barracks. You could have used the sonic shower on your ship, but that would mean going through the hangar.

You turned off the water and toweled yourself off, wincing as you accidentally pulled at the bacta patch on your side. You peeled the corner, checking on the angry wound. It was too deep for the patch alone, but it would hold until you got back to your ship. You had a micro suture kit stashed somewhere, and you didn’t want to visit the medical unit.

After dressing, you made your way back to the hanger. It was blissfully silent, even the mechanics who seemed to have a never-ending to-do list had retired for the night. You crossed the bay to your ship, a modified stealth gunship. You ran your hands against the cool metal and lowered the ramp.

“Don’t tell me you are sneaking out of here?” a voice asked.

You spun to see Poe Dameron behind you, BB-8 at his heels. At Poe’s question, BB-8 beeped angrily at the thought, crossing in front of you, keeping you from stepping onto the ramp.

“Not leaving, though the thought did cross my mind,” you said curtly, stepping over BB-8 and up the ramp. He followed at your heels to Poe’s amusement.

You dug through storage bins, ignoring the throbbing pain in your side and the burning gaze of the Resistance pilot.

“Are you going to talk to me?” he asked.

You scoffed.

“Now you want to talk? I was under the impression you were mute, especially during the briefing,” you snapped.

Poe sighed and rubbed his neck.

“I knew you didn’t do anything wrong. I was afraid if I said anything, they’d think I was just trying to cover for you.”

His logic was sound. Poe did spend an inordinate amount of time talking his way out of trouble. But you still felt betrayed by his silence today. This is why you didn’t do feelings. It made things difficult and unreasonable. You pulled the old kit from a box and tossed it to Poe.

“Make it up to me,” you said pulling off your shirt, leaving you in a breast band. BB-8 whistled and spun around, giving you privacy.

Poe looked at the micro-suture gun in his hands before focusing on the scarlet-tinged bacta patch on your side. He fished a pair of skin-gloves out of the kit and put them on. He kneeled in front of you, prodding your skin. You bit your lip as he peeled the patch away.

“Why didn’t you say anything? This should have been taken care of hours ago.” He wiped away the weeping blood and cursed under his breath.

“Micro sutures might not be enough, especially with an older model like this,” he said as he tried to pinch the wound closed. “We should go to the medical-”

“No. We’ll do it here. I can do it myself if I have to,” you said firmly, reaching for the gun if he wasn’t going to use it.

Poe looked up at you before nodding in agreement. He scooted closer, his palm warm even with the sterile gloves.

“You don’t have any numb-spray, so this is going to hurt,” he warned you.

The suture gun let out a hiss for every stitch placed, and you gripped Poe’s jacket as each one went in. It took 12 sutures for your wound to be closed. Poe wiped the stitched skin and put another bacta patch on top.

“It’ll probably scar a bit, but it’s closed,” he said, pulling off the gloves and tossing them aside.

“Appreciate it,” you thanked him, and eased your tunic back over your head. You felt Poe’s fingertips against the hem of the shirt as he gently pulled it back into place.

“So why did you have me mangle your skin, instead of having one of the medics take care of this?”

“Jannak, his husband is a med-tech. And I came out of this mission with only a scar,” you said simply.

“So you’re punishing yourself?” he asked.

“I’m alive, and he isn’t. I should never have agreed to take on a partner,” you confessed. “I didn’t think he was ready. He wasn’t ready for this.”

You blinked rapidly, swiping at your face with your hand. Poe caught it and held your cheek.

“It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t,” he said earnestly. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I don’t think I can handle this,” you admitted, turning your head away.

“You can. I know you can,” Poe said, taking a step back, moving his hands to your shoulders.

“I’m not made for this. No one trusts me. They think I don’t care.” BB-8 rolled over to your feet, nudging your legs affectionately.

“If you’d let them see you, the real you, they would never believe that. You can let down your guard around others.”

You sniffled a bit, nodding.

“This is going to ruin my mystique a bit. The tough bounty hunter has a heart,” you joked.

“Hanging around me, it’s bound to happen,” Poe said with a laugh.

“I should have never tried to collect your bounty. I would be far away from here, not dealing with cocky flyboys and pushy astromechs.”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that?”

BB-8 whistled and bumped Poe’s legs.

“BB is right, this moment deserves a hug. I need a hug, don’t you need one?” He held out his arms welcomingly.

“Well, if BB-8 says so,” you agreed. You kneeled next to the chatty astromech droid and wrapped your arms around his round body. He beeped happily and spun around in a circle.

Poe pouted and crossed his arms.

“Aw, come on? BB gets a hug and not me? After I stitched up your side?”

“You’ve seen me without my shirt today. A hug deserves a drink first.”

Poe’s eyes glittered in amusement.

“I can do that.”

#mels3k #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #star wars fanfic #bb8 is bossy

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

Written in the Stars

Square(s) Filled: A picture is worth a thousand words for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo

Warnings: Dean being a fluff ball, tattoos, Dean speaks French

Summary: After a drunken night of celebration, a declaration is made in a very unconvential way.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 946

Written for: @as-the-saying-goes-bingo and @iwantthedean

Beta’d by: @supernatural-jackles Jen thank you so much for your words of encouragement!

A/N: This is a request from my dear, beautiful wifey, @iwantthedean: I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU AND FOR THIS MINI CELEBRATION! May I please request Dean x Reader?First choice is 5. “I want all that romantic shit, but only with you.”, my back up is 17. “Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?” We do love some freckles, amirite? ;) Congrats on the achievement boo, it's well deserved! **Nic, I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it! I’m so glad your first choice was already taken because I found this so much more fitting!

A/N 2: A huge shout out and thank you to @67-chevy-baby for help with the translations, as well as @littlemiddlefoxbabe, who not only helped with the translations, but help me figure out a better way to end it!

A/N 3: This is also my peace offering for the pain I caused earlier this week. I love you all!

The night had been a blast. Celebrating a win with the Winchesters was always a good time. It was an even better time when Sam retired to his own room and you got alone time with your favorite brother/hunter/boyfriend.

Dean leaned over the arm of his chair, pressing himself into your personal space, not that you minded. “What are you doing?” You murmured, eyes settling on his as they flicked across your face.

“Your freckles are adorable and I love them,” Dean whispered, a calloused finger gently tracing the bridge of your nose. “I’m going to count them one day, pretty girl.”

“You have more freckles than me, D,” you reminded him with a giggle, finishing the last of the Bird Dog in your glass. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Dean wiggled his eyebrows in that way that made your insides tingle. You grabbed his hand as you stood, heading down the hall to your room. The minute the door closed, Dean was on you, pressing you up against the wood, kissing you senseless. The room spun as he picked up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to the bed.

He always had this effect on you, making you breathless with the simplest of touches. He deftly removed the outfit you had so carefully picked out, revealing your golden skin to him. His soft lips brushed your shoulder, your collarbone, your forehead, your lips, as if he were committing each inch to memory. “One, two, five, six…”

“Are you going to count them or make love to me?” you giggled again, loving the extra attention he was giving you.

“I am a master at multitasking,” he murmured into your skin, laying you down gently on the bed.

“Yes, you are,” you moaned as his lips ghosted over that sensitive spot just below your ear, gingerly moving your hair to the side.

~*~

The tender touch of his hand roused you from slumber. The soft press of his lips to your shoulder. Although your eyes remained closed, you could feel the heat of his gaze on you. The lingering touches lulled you back to sleep.

You woke a bit later to the aroma of coffee and an odd sensation leaving a trail across the top of your back. You felt the warmth of Dean’s hand as well and one thought crossed your mind. “Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles now?” You yawned, attempting to stretch out your waking limbs.

“Stop moving, you’re messing with my canvas!” Dean scolded you.

“Wait...are you really playing connect the dots? Please tell me it’s not a permanent marker,” you groaned, remembering you left a Sharpie on the desk.

“Yes and no, it’s not. It’s some type of wax pencil you left on the sink,” Dean informed you.

“Please tell me it’s not my makeup, dude. That shit’s expensive!” you grumbled, attempting to look over your shoulder at him to see what he was using.

“Relax, pretty girl. I’ll buy you a new one. It’s not like you need it anyway, you’re beautiful just the way Chuck made you,” he exalted, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the middle of your back.

“C-Can I see?” you hesitated, but curious as to what he drew on your back.

“Yeah, hold on,” he grunted, lifting himself up off the bed. He returned a moment later, the bed dipping next to you. You heard the click of his cell phone camera as he snapped a few photos. “‘Kay, here.”

You rolled to your side taking his phone from him. You flipped through the pictures, enlarging the clearest image and your breath caught in your throat. He had drawn two stars on your back including a declaration of his love. “Dean...I didn’t know you knew French.”

“Only a little bit,” he shrugged, one side of his mouth pulling up in a smirk.

“You’re a man of many talents, D. I’m a lucky girl,” you commented, sliding from the sheets. You slipped his discarded flannel over your shoulders and pulled on a pair of leggings. “Come on. I’ve got an idea.”

“Where are we going?” he asked, following you down the hall to the garage.

“We’re going to the tattoo shop,” you informed him, sliding into Baby’s front seat.

“What? Why?” he perplexed getting into the car.

“Because, the world’s best hunter fell in love with a girl and professed his love for her in the sweetest way. I want to make this permanent so I can remember it forever,” you explained. “Someday when I’m old and gray and can’t remember my own name, I’ll look at this and I’ll know I was lucky enough to experience this kind of love.”

“We could do it together…” Dean softly suggested.

“You’d do that? A huge declaration of love embedded in your skin forever?” You asked, shocked that your big strong hunter would consider that.

“Why not? Your love is already embedded on my heart forever,” he admitted. “I know I don’t say it enough, but a picture is worth a thousand words.”

“I just never thought, with the life and all, you’d make a commitment like that,” you mumbled.

“I’ve loved you from day one. I’ll love you until my dying breath. We can’t legally get married, I figure this is the biggest step we can take,” Dean declared. “I know it’s not all that romantic, but whatdya say? Will you get a matching tattoo with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you answered. “And it’s very romantic, D.”

“C’est moi, je suis romantique,” Dean whispered, pressing his lips to yours. “Notre amour écrit dans les étoiles”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean’s last line translates to: That’s me, I’m romantic,” Dean whispered, pressing his lips to yours. “Our love is written in the stars.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @seenashwrite @crashdevlin @thoughtslikeaminefield @emoryhemsworth @manawhaat

The Dean’s List/Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever @supernatural-jackles

#asthesayinggoesbingo #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x nicole #oops I mean #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic

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florafey · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on TWK

I started reading The Wicked King on 24 Jan. 2019, and finished about half an hour ago on 27 Jan. 2019. I decided to make an all-inclusive list of my thoughts/theories as I read. Here they all are.

Spoilers, of course, are under the cut.

- When did the prologue take place? I was thinking it was directly after the happenings of The Cruel Prince, and it caught my neck when it wasn’t.

- “His most ostentatious decoration, however, is his soft, sullen mouth.” Lmaoo Jude, girl you in lOOovEE hehehe

- Jude is probably right to not trust Grimsen because I don’t either, but it’s too bad CARDAN doesn’t LISTEN

- Jude seems to have fallen into authority really naturally, giving orders to Faeries as though she isn’t viewed as lesser. She’s turning into a protagonist you have a love/hate relationship with and Black is writing that extremely well in my opinion

- I think the Roach teaching Cardan how to steal is amazing and it will certainly come in handy later on it did, believe me

- Jude burning her stuffed animals is so DramaticTM but go ahead, girl

- I don’t like Locke, I don’t like Locke, I don’t like Locke at all

- “Kiss me again. Kiss me until I am sick of it.” SHE SHOULD HAVE DONE IT DAMMIT JUDE

- Jude seems to always tell Cardan before she commands him which is super respectful for someone she’s supposed to loath

- “The last room Cardan occupied caught fire....let me rephrase, it caught fire because he lit it on fire.” I’m sorry, I was rolling, that was hysterical

- Jude and the Bomb lying on the High King’s bed together to “see if its safe” and teasing each other about crushes only for the Bomb to actually open up to Jude and trust her ??? Wow okay wasn’t ready for those feels

- I don’t like Locke, I don’t like Locke, I don’t like Locke at all

- Cardan really stole Jude’s ruby ring I’m DEAD that was kinda petty

- When Locke tried to humiliate Jude at the Hunter’s Moon, only for her to take the attention and OWN it...a bitch was shook. That was such a power move on Jude’s part. I have one (1) Queen and her name is Duarte

- I was on page 173 where I had known about Cardan’s mother being imprisoned for approximately .27 seconds and I already couldn’t wait to see what unfolded with her

- Eva’s child was destined to be a greater weapon than even Justin could forge......mmmmmmm that child is for sure Jude

- “He survived on cat milk?” that was a little sad and a lot funny, sorry sorry

- BAPHEN SEES A NEW MONARCH COMIIIIIIIING (IS IT JUDE HERSELF OR IS JUDE PREGNAAAAANT????)

- Cardan sitting sideways in his throne with his leg thrown over the armrest is a Big Mood and I expected nothing less

- I absolutely detest Locke and how he treats Taryn, but I love seeing Jude snap at him and assert herself over him like a straight QWEEN

- I also feel so, so bad for Taryn because it seems like she truly loves Locke and is willing to overlook how he treats her- including how he’s cheating on her with countless Faeries- just to have him near her. She’s growing dependent on him but she doesn’t have anyone to help pull her out of that situation and I feel awful for her

- hell YEAH my Jurdan slept together best BELIEVE

- Jude kicking Locke’s chair out from under him is simply another reason on an already lengthy list of why she’s literally my hero also the way she stepped on Locke’s chest and threatened him

- “Once you’re wed, if you want to take other lovers, she better be with you, and she better be into it. If it’s not fun for everyone, it’s not happening.” A great way to put it, but also made me giggle a lil bit

- Jude not knowing what pepper jack cheese is

- Oof I hated the way Vivi handled the whole deal with telling Heather about Faerie.....telling her at the last possible minute was not a great plan in my opinion

- “It seems I have a singular taste for women who threaten me.” Cardan, I-

- I DON”T LIKE LOCKE ONE FUCKING BIT NUH UH

- Okay, Queen of Nothing just got that much better because I know Jude won’t let Locke almost kill her and get away with it....she’s coming for him hehehe

- Jude’s brain really told her, ‘Kill him before he makes you love him’ like...babey that’s so DramaticTM

- I pieced together the Ghost’s betrayal only, like, four seconds before it actually happened but that didn’t make it hurt aNY LESS. I’m interested in hearing motives for that because very few were offered

- “Now kiss me as though I were Cardan.” BITCH, I-

- And Jude actually kissed Balekin differently, because that bitch is in loooove

- So you really expect me to sit here and read about how Cardan ALLOWED the Undersea to attack his people without retaliation just to get Jude back and not think he’s in love with her???? yeah okay

- Cardan’s first reaction to seeing Jude on top of him in his bed is to pull her closer to him and roll her in his sheets...I’m weak send help

- Cardan canonically sleeps naked. Thank you, @hollyblack for giving us that gem

- The sheer vulnerability that Cardan has with Jude in his bed is touching and heart-wrenching and I need more, more, so much more

- You know what really killed me? Like, absolutely decimated me? This quote: “’Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.’ And with that, he kisses me on the mouth.”

- Balekin’s dusty ass really tried to frame Jude for the murder of the High King and then his wig got snATCHED when he realized she wasn’t actually glamoured

- I need more Jude taking care of a sick/drunk Cardan, comforting him and telling him he’ll be okay

- Balekin’s dusty ass also tried to surrender the moment he realized Jude was beating him in their duel and his wig got snatched again when she still killed him hell yeeeaaahhhh

- The only good part of the scene where Jude finds out Taryn betrayed her is when Caradan admits he trusted her wholeheartedly and she didn’t have to command him to do anything

- I also need motives for Taryn doing this because ???? it isn’t adding up

- So I’d like to think that Cardan had been planning on marrying Jude since the beginning of the book when he initially stole her ring, because he gave it back to her as a wedding ring

- “Beneath every bit of your sea is land. Seething, volcanic land. Go against me, and I will show you what this will do, my lady.” OKAY NOW I HAVE ONE (1) KING AND HIS NAME IS GREENBRIAR

- I loved it when Jude was like “during my month in the Undersea, Cardan changed.” like lol yeah babey, he’s your slut and he’s in love with you

- Okay okay okay alright alright we were getting somewhere with Jude and Cardan trusting each other but I fell like this exile might have put a damper on that. Maybe could have taken us a few steps back.

- I, for one, do not having debilitating trust issues so I’m sticking my neck out for Cardan and saying that he has a plan and a good reason for exiling Jude. It was in response for her killing Balekin and it was in front of Orlagh, who was demanding retribution for his death, soooooo idk seems like he was playing his cards wisely if he had a plan

- Is Jude....watching....Yuri! On Ice....?? Because same

- Honestly this book gave me crippling trust issues and anxiety and I need the third book like, instantly. It was amazing, I wanted to cry through the whole thing

- If you made it this far, congrats, you witnessed my emotional roller coasters and I appreciate that

#the wicked king #the cruel prince #folk of the air #my thoughts #wicked king spoilers

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dorotheajanegilmore · 5 years

Text

Devil’s Daughter [Dean Winchester]

Previous: 1,2,3,4

Chapter five

Rowena was at the bunker before lunch and had her candles, potions and herbs set up ready to do a blood test. I learned that Rowena Macleod is Crowley's mother and a witch. Sam also warned me that she can be a little scary and to be careful with what I say around her.

"So what do I have to do again?" I gulped, looking at the giant ass knife she had presented in front of a small bowl.

"It's alright dear, nothing to be afraid of." Her calm and soothing voice made me feel at ease, her accent helped her to sound jolly and sweet and I for one needed that right now. "I just need a wee drop of blood for the spell."

I nodded and held out my hand. She took the knife and trailed it along the back of my hand. I hissed in pain, clutching Dean's arm as a large gash appeared, dripping blood into the bowl.

I watched my hand heal before my eyes, the skin knitting itself back together so unbelievably quick.

"Sorry bub, I'm afraid we'll need a little more." Rowena told me before mercilessly dragging the knife across my hand once more, this time digging it a little deeper. She seemed to be smiling and humming a happy song to herself, as if she was enjoying hurting me. The blood filled up the bowl and she nodded. "Perfect. Thanks, Doll."

"Jacky boy, you're turn." She sung and Jack held out his hand. Rowena used a different bowl and sliced across his hand too. As he bled into the bowl, she looked between us. "You know, you both have the same cheekbones. Very lucifer-esque . And you have the same blonde-ish brown hair, oh I don't know. You definitely look a like."

I looked at Jack and noticed that we did in fact have similar features, however that idea was dropped when Rowena added, "Then again, Jack does look an awful lot like Cass so I guess looks don't mean a thing."

"Isn't Castiel, Jack's uncle?" I posed the question and looked around for a response.

Castiel nodded. "Technically, yes. But I look at him as more of a son." Jack smiled, was genuinely touched that Castiel loves and looks out for him that way.

I smiled and rest my head on Dean's shoulder, feeling myself becoming very sleepy.

———

"Rowena, what's happening?" Dean asked as he looked down at the sleeping Elle on his shoulder.

"This spell is a tough one, Deano. It's gonna wear them both out." Rowena told him honestly as Jack fell onto Elle, causing more wait to be added to the hunter. Dean grunted and looked at Sam for a little help.

Sam places Jack on one couch and Dean places Elle on the other. Rowena continues her changing and burning of herbs as she mixed a drop of Elle and Jack's blood.

"How do we know if it's positive?" Sam asked, receiving a small glare from Dean. "What? This isn't exactly a normal paternity test."

"They're not exactly normal people." Dean added sarcastically.

"Hush you too." Rowena scolded as she tried to concentrate. "Well know if the blood separates, that means it rejects the connection. If it mixes and becomes one, then congrats. It's a girl Luci."

———

Rowena used a spell to awaken me and Jack and asked us to chant with her. We sat either side of her holding hands, forming a circle around the pentagram she had made with red string.

"Ooh look, look." She squealed in excitement, shaking mine and Jack's hands to get our attention.

When I opened my eyes and saw what she was looking at I gasped. Our blood matched, we were related.

"I told you she was the one." Rowena said to Crowley. "I used Lucifer's blood to find you, Elle. I knew it was you, dear!"

I shook my head in disbelief. If this is really true, my entire life has been one huge lie. "So...what does this mean?" I asked. "What do you need me to do?" I hurried to my feet, breaking the circle with Rowena and Jack.

Crowley stepped forward and folded his arms in front of himself, standing confidently before me. "Well we'll need to unleash your powers. You've spent your entire life as a human so they'll be weak, we need you to be in top form to be able to put Lucifer back in his cage."

"And how do we do that?" Sam asked from his seat on the couch.

"A series of tests?" Crowley offered up, pulling a face of uncertainty.

I rolled my eyes and placed an annoyed hand on my forehead. "Any chance, while you guys figure this out, I can go home and see my family?"

Sam and Dean shared a look, seeming to be able to silently communicate. Dean cleared his throat and nodded. "I don't see why not. But we'll be coming with you, just to make sure you don't run away. Ya’know?"

"I get it." I shrugged. I really do. If this Lucifer is as bad as everyone makes out, he needs to be locked away. And if I'm needed for that, in whatever way, so be it.

"Can I come to?" Jack's smile faltered and he looked hurt. "I've just met you, I don't want to lose another person."

I smiled and stepped over Rowena's spell bowls to get to him. I reached up and pulled him into a hug. "Of course you can." I told him. I felt him hug back and release a deep breath.

———

I pulled the red leather jacket Rowena gave me closer to my chest, feeling the wind coming from Sam’s open window as

Dean drove. Sam directed from the passenger seat while myself and Jack sat in the back with Castiel, playing twenty-thousand questions.

"And what's your favourite colour?" Jack added, rambling like a child in a candy shop trying to list all his favourites.

I shrugged, I didn't really have one. But I didn't want to upset him so I answered. "I guess it would have to be burgundy. You?"

"Probably blue." He nodded, proud of his choice.

“If you two are finished playing teenage sleepover games, Elle can you try some of those exercises Rowena told you about?” Dean raised a brow at me, looking at me through his rear view mirror.

I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. “No, I don’t think I will. You see there’s something about being in a car with breathing people that’s telling me not to try and use powers I’m supposed to have in case, oh I don’t know, I could hurt someone?”

“Who cares? Give it a go.” Dean shrugged. He was just curious as to whether or not I actually have power now that Rowena’s confirmed my true parentage.

Rowena told me to close my eyes and picture the blood flowing through my veins. To incision every pump of my heart. To focus on my breathing. So that’s what I did. I held my hands out in front of me, just behind Sam’s seat.

I pictured my heart and blood flowing through me, and then I heard gaps. I opened my eyes to see a small ball of red wisps forming in my palm. “What the...” I couldn’t form a sentence as I started at the energy glowing in my hands.

Jack looked at me with tear filled eyes as Dean pulled over to the side of the road. Castiel gave me a thumbs up and rushed around to open the door for me, not wanting me to break the energy ball.

Sam and Jack watched from the car as Dean slammed his door and ran around to keep an eye on me. He glanced around at the empty field and quiet road before pointing at a tree. “See if you can throw it at that tree.” He was breathless as he spoke, almost mesmerised by the power in my palms.

I gulped before nodding. I felt the wind pick up, blowing the black borrowed dress and my hair. Here goes nothing I guess. I twisted my hand and sure enough, the power followed, seeming to flow out of my fingers. I pulled back one arm and the energy ball stretched, with one mighty throw I sent the red ball of energy at the tree.

My hands flew to my mouth in shock as the tree hit the ground with a massive thud!

“Oh my god!” I shrieked. “What the hell! What the actual hell!!”

Dean laughed and shouted, “You did it!” He pulled me into a bone crushing hug and lifted me from the ground, twirling me around in excitement.

Castiel stood back, looking from the tree to my hands. He mumbled to himself, voice full of concern, “What else are you capable off?”

Next: 6

Tags: @lilulo-12 @vicmc624

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #fanfic #sam winchester #castiel #rowena #jack kline #lucifer

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years

Text

Just a Little Patience

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: This was written for @cole-winchester ‘s Writing Prompt challenge (congrats again babe!!). My prompt was: “Falling in love with you wasn’t a part of my life plan, but I don’t regret that I did.” I also used the song, Patience by Guns ‘n Roses as inspiration and some lyrics are used within the fic.

Summary: Dean showed up at the bar Y/N worked in one night with his brother, and from there, she and Dean became quick friends who had a growing attraction. However, her life was complicated by a wedding ring and absent husband. When he finally returns, Y/N begs Dean to leave and never come back. But what happens when fate seems to intervene and gives them both signs that they made the wrong choice?

Warnings: Married!Reader, slight hints of verbal abuse, language, some angst

Words: 6.7K

SPN Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @soythedemonqueen // @kazosa // @lefthologramdeer // @grace-for-sale // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @geeksareunique // @moonchild-shoshanna // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @yorkeylover // @fictionalabyss // @gettinjoyful // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @negans-wife // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @vickyfarley // @missihart23 // @letsby // @hyphymanatee // @ravenangel33 // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets

SPN Tag list is open! Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

*Gifs not mine, credit to owners.

The whiskey burned as it tore down his throat that was already raw from the screaming match, he had with Sam earlier. But Dean didn’t care. He slammed the glass to the bar and motioned for another. The bartender gave him an uncertain look, but Dean’s expression demanded more.

“Just leave the damn bottle,” he growled and didn’t give the man a second glance as he made a hasty exit to the other end of the bar.

Dean poured his own shot from the bottle and tossed it back, filling the glass again before he could even finish swallowing the last one. Getting shit faced drunk was high on his priority list, and he couldn’t care less what the bartender, or other patrons, or even his little brother thought about it. For once, this bout of drunkenness wasn’t caused by a hunt, the fight with Sam or even the death of someone close to him. This time, it was all because of a woman.

She had been the frequent cause for so many of his internal debates of right versus wrong in the last few months. Y/N wasn’t anything he expected yet turned out to be exactly what he had been looking for without even realizing it. He’d gone for so many years happily meeting women and spending a night, two tops, with them. Then, Y/N came along and threw all that on its head.

For a girl he never even kissed, Dean felt like she ruined him for anyone else. He hated her for it at first, because when it was time to walk away, he couldn’t until she screamed at him that he had too. She was messy, had far too much baggage and “not their kind of problem” problems. She was nothing Dean needed to get involved with. Yet, there he was; neck deep and hopelessly addicted to someone he had seen, spoken too or touched, in months.

Three shots later, and Dean was starting to feel no pain and he slipped off the stool and started singing along badly with The Allman Brothers that were playing on the jukebox. He left the bottle behind and stumbled around the nearly empty honkytonk, scanning the faces of those still there, and realized it wasn’t at all where he wanted to be.

Not this bar, not in this part of town. This was her bar. How did he allow himself to end up there? Dean ran a hand over his mouth and down the stubble on his chin. His eyes were tired, and he wanted another shot. He squeezed them shut for a moment, and her face immediately floated into his mind’s eye.

That image combined with the whiskey brought a lump into his throat as he leaned against one of the support beams. Dean pushed off, headed back towards the bar and blindly groped for a stool. He tried to shove it all back down, but that never really worked, not where she was concerned.

As the last notes of Ramblin’ Man died away, the jukebox played a cruel joke on the world’s most dangerous hunter, as the soft, melodic notes of Patience by Guns ‘n Roses started to play. He listened as best he could, feeling each line of the song and realizing that it was a sign. In his drunken state, he considered for a moment that he had played it and forgot. It was their song, after all.

He thought back to the night after the concert, he found her at the bar and wanted to talk about what had happened. She avoided him for most of the night until he finally cornered her. But before he could even begin, she started to cry. Her face that night was a mess, mascara-streaked tears had painted her cheeks, while her wet eyes implored for him to… Go? Stay? He didn’t remember right then, but they were silently pleading with him to somehow save her. He turned and left, but it crushed him to do so.

Now, here he found himself in her bar, a place he swore he’d never end up in again. Especially not after she told him to leave. He was drinking again, heavily. Not because he needed too, but because he missed her so damn much, and hadn’t seen her in more than six months. He just wanted one night where he didn’t feel anything at all.

So why did his highway hypnosis bring him there when he set out in the opposite direction? How did he end up a bottle of Jack deep before he even realized it? Sure, some time had passed, but not so much that she could be erased from his memory. Nothing could do that, and he tried. He had promised himself, and Sam, that Y/N was in his past, he wouldn’t go back and stir it up all again. That was what he fought with Sam about, and now he was here. Dean ignored the little voice that told him he needed to let go and took another shot.

Now that song was playing, the one that told him he was right where he should be, despite not really setting out to be there. Or did he?

The room was hot, and you felt a sticky layer of sweat coat your skin the minute you fell onto the stripped-down bed. Beside you, your husband snored relentlessly in the nearly pitch-black room. There would be zero chance you’d sleep, especially with him going on the way he was. Though, you were still glad he’d finally fallen asleep. He’d been worse than usual, not so much with the drinking, but with his overall behavior and hostility. So, when he finally closed his eyes for the night, relief washed over you.

When work, or the lack thereof, got worse for him, you would suffer for it. Martin had never laid a hand on you, but there were a few times that he had approached you in a manner that made you flinch and feel a ripple of unease settle into your gut. That day had been bad, as had most of the days that came before it. It had gotten so bad, however, that you had to get someone to come in and cover your shift at the bar. That meant no tips, which meant less money, which just caused another argument.

You rolled onto your side and tried to get comfortable as the mass of flesh and bone beside you took in another loud inhale of air up through his nostrils. This time it made him cough, which shook the entire bed frame. A flash of anger made you sit up and swing your legs to the floor. You bit the inside of your lip, forcing yourself to use all your willpower just to fight the urge not scream at him to shut up. The anger quickly wanted to turn into tears because it just brought up everything again; all the issues you’d been having with him ever since…

You breathed through the emotion, trying to find a calm place so you could think without breaking down. Mostly, you were afraid to wake Martin. Carefully, you got back out of bed and quietly rifled through your dresser until you found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Being as dark as it was, you didn’t realize what you had put on until you were sitting in the car and seeing its reflecting in the rearview mirror.

When you caught sight of the shirt itself, the big GnR logo across your chest, this feeling of nostalgia clamped down on your heart. For the first time in months, you allowed yourself to speak his name out loud.

“Dean…”

You allowed yourself a moment or two, just to linger in everything that name stirred inside you. But, only a moment.

Still afraid Martin would wake and find you in the driveway, you turned the ignition and pulled out, not hitting your headlights on until you were far down the road from home. The further you drove from home, the freer you started to feel. Almost as free as you had felt with Dean. He was firmly on your mind now, and you didn’t care. You had spent the better part of the last six months doing everything within your power to forget him and even pretend he never existed.

When you met him, Martin had been gone working for weeks at a time. You took extra shifts at the bar, and even the nights where you weren’t working, you were there. Dean and his brother had come in one night and dominated the pool table for most of the evening which annoyed you to no end because you had to listen to the regulars complain. The next night, they came back, and you just happened to be off shift. When they went for the table, you stopped them and challenged them to a game. Winner takes the table, loser must buy the next round. Dean won, and you gladly bought him a round of drinks, then another, then another.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes for you to become hopelessly charmed by the stranger with the green eyes wearing the blue Henley. For the next couple nights, Sam and Dean Winchester showed up religiously at around nine. They would drink, shoot pool and close the bar with Dean in the corner seat just chatting you up about movies, tv shows, and music.

He never tried to make a move on you once he noticed the wedding ring on your finger, but it also never stopped him from making you laugh and being sweet as hell every night he came in. It didn’t help that Dean was mysterious, and endlessly interesting. He had a way of teasing you that both made you blush and infuriated you. He wasn’t threatening, but you could see how he could be intimidating, or even scary, if provoked. Everything about him was just what you needed… he was everything Martin wasn’t.

At the end of each night, they would leave, and you would go home to an empty house and stare at the ring on your finger. You knew Martin was gone for a purpose, the work was hard to find, and he had to take it where he could. It wasn’t the distance or the loneliness that bothered you, it was him. You’d been falling out of love for a while, and meeting Dean was the realization of that. Still, you didn’t know Dean completely, and you were a married woman, so you tried to put as much distance between you as possible. Somehow, Dean always found his way through it and straight back to you.

You allowed yourself to continue down memory lane as you navigated your car down the blackened roads that lead to nowhere in particular. There was no destination in mind, just the need to drive and listen to loud music. Flipping on the radio, you hit ‘scan’ so the tuner would find something that actually came in clear. The mountains didn’t always allow for the best signal, but the tinny sound of Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love seeped through the intermittent static.

Your fingers tapped along on top of the steering wheel, as more winding roads brought you down into the valley. When you approached the next stop sign, you realized you had no idea where you were. There was no one behind you, and you didn’t know how to decide which way to go. On the radio, Zep faded away and a soft whistle faded in. You swallowed thickly and recognized the song immediately. Your right hand touched against the logo on your shirt before your fingers curled around the material and clenched at it desperately.

A pair of headlights eventually pulled to a stop behind you and beeped the horn, giving you a nudge to decide which direction to go. Without thinking, you turned right and fell back into your memories.

It was another night at the bar. You were working and chatting with Dean, when the small radio playing next to you let the listeners know they had a chance to win tickets to see Guns ‘n Roses final tour, live. Dean’s face lit up and he whipped out his cell phone. He grabbed the number and dialed frantically as his tongue darted out nervously over his bottom lip; making him look like a giddy child.

“I got this… I so got this—“ he mumbled and suddenly inhaled sharply when the phone stopped ringing and he heard the voice on the line.

You watched him as he got more and more excited upon realizing he had been the winner of the tickets. The pure joy that was etched across his face was infectious. When he hung up, with the confirmation he could pick up the tickets at Will Call, he came around the back of the bar, and swept you up into a big bear hug, lifting your feet off the ground and swinging you back and forth.

He must have felt like he crossed the line because he put you down quickly and bashfully went back to his stool. Neither of you spoke about it, but for the moment his arms had been around you, you felt intoxicated by his proximity. When he put you down and moved away, you had a sudden urge to pull him back and make him hug you again.

“Sam’s gonna hate this,” he chuckled nervously, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “He will not enjoy this at all.”

“Not his cup of tea?”

Dean snorted a laugh and wiped at the drop of beer left on his lip. “Not even a little.”

You started drying glasses, so you would have something to do other than be affected by his touch. “Well he’s just gonna have to suck it up, isn’t he? No way you can waste that other ticket.”

“Oh, no worry there darlin’,” Dean winked and sipped at his beer. “Because I think you should go with me instead. Wouldn’t kill me to have a night away from that gasbag over there.” He motioned over his shoulder towards Sam, who was playing pool and chatting up one the female customers.

You shrugged and tried to play off your simultaneous emotions of excitement and disappointment. “I can’t go with you, I have to work.”

Dean wrinkled his face and rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. Here, watch this… Hey, uh, Mario, right?” he called to the other bartender and waved him over.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked nervously. “Leave Mario alone.”

He ignored you. “Hey, Mario… you working tomorrow?”

Mario shrugged and shook his head. “No, why?”

“You wanna work so this one can go with me to a concert?”

He considered it for a moment and shrugged again. “Why not, could definitely use the cash. I’ll work your shift Y/N.”

Dean’s expression shrugged right along with his “I told you so” shoulders and hand gesture.

“Dean, I can’t—”

“Because of that,” he asked quietly and looked down at your ring.

“Well, yeah.”

“We’re friends going to a concert. Totally platonic, promise.”

He picked you up the next day at six, and the moment you slid into the front seat of his ’67 Impala, you thought you may just be a little in love with him already. Dean drove fast and played his music loud. The rush of adrenaline and excitement that coursed through you felt intoxicating. HE was intoxicating. Dean directed you to the cooler in the back seat, and when you opened it up you couldn’t help but smile. Inside was two six packs of beer and to subs wrapped up from your favorite sandwich shop.

When you arrived at the venue, the parking lot was full of tailgaters --people drinking heavily and pockets of different Guns ‘n Roses songs blared from every direction. The weather looked threatening, so you and Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala, shared the beer and food, and talked until it was showtime.

It was raining by the time you made it to Will Call, and at a near downpour by the time the band took the stage. Neither of you cared. For the next few hours, you drank, sang and danced in the rain. It finally stopped and gave way to a starry filled sky just in time for Axel Rose to transition into the familiar whistle of Patience.

As he sang it, Dean’s hand found his way into yours. When you looked up at him, his eyes were still straight ahead, watching the concert and mouthing the words along with the song. He must have felt you staring at him because when he turned to you, was when you were struck by the realization you had growing feelings for him. STRONG feelings

All the people around you seemed to fade, and it was just you and Dean left standing on that lawn. The song was playing solely for the two of you, but even that felt far away. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, as his hand gripped yours tighter. There was so much electricity in that moment, so much heat between you, it was as if there were invisible forces pushing you towards each other, despite knowing it was wrong.

Dean wanted to say or do something, it was written all over his face. You wanted him to say it, too, but you knew it would lead to something that could only end badly.

“Don’t,” you whispered, which he somehow heard over the crowd and music. “Please, Dean…” You looked away from him, casting your eyes to the ground.

His finger lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He still held your hand, refusing to let it go. As the lyrics came through the speakers, he smiled and used his grip on you to pull you into his arms as he sang along, just loud enough for you to hear him.

“I sit here on the stairs 'Cause I'd rather be alone If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear, hmmm mmmm….

He hummed along for a few more bars before picking up the words again.

Said woman take it slow and things will be just fine You and I'll just use a little patience Said sugar take the time 'cause the lights are shining bright You and I've got what it takes to make it…”

You stayed that way through the rest of the song, only releasing each other to applaud along with the rest of the crowd at the end. The show was over shortly after that, as you moved along with the herd of concert goers, Dean jumped out of line to buy one of the last shirts that was left. “Here, you’re soaked through. This way you won’t freeze,” he winked, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you through the mass exodus towards the parking lot.

The Impala rolled up to the front door of your house and that’s when you knew it was all over. Martin’s truck was parked in the driveway, and Dean seemed to realize exactly what that had meant, too. There were no lights on inside, which meant he was most likely sleeping, but a bolt of fear still ran through your heart.

“I—I better go, the old man is home,” you said, trying to sound cheerful, but neither of you believed it.

Dean was quiet, staring straight ahead and clearly trying not to say more than was necessary. Eventually, he looked your way and forced a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I see that.”

“Thanks for the concert, and the shirt,” you said and reached for the door handle. Before you could, he reached out and grabbed your wrist gently to stop you.

“Y/N…”

You froze and when you turned back to him, there was a dreamy, wistful light in his eyes which made your entire body weak for him.

“I, uh, I don’t want you to—”

“I don’t want to go either,” you said quietly, cutting him off but unable to look him in the eye. His fingers interlaced with yours, and that invisible force was there again, just pushing you closer.

If not for the light that flipped on inside, you would have kissed him them. But then the front door opened. You forced his hand from yours and jumped out of the car before you lost your nerve to and without saying goodbye.

You didn’t realize you had pulled over to the side of the road, until a car buzzed by you far too quickly, rocking yours from the force with which it passed. The song was still playing but nearing its end and you suddenly wished you could start it over and relive that night of the concert. When that light came on, you should have kissed him, then told him to keep driving and never stop.

Somehow, in the span of a week and very little physical contact, you’d fallen head over heels for a man you barely knew who had stellar taste in everything and whose intense gaze made you feel like the only woman on Earth.

When the guitar finally faded out, and a slew of commercials took its place, you put the car back in drive and merged back onto the road. Doing your best to leave memories of Dean Winchester behind.

The pain that tore through Dean’s head was nearly as painful as the memories that ripped his heart to pieces the night before. He sat up on the motel bed and wondered how he ended up there. The last thing he recalled was sitting at the bar with a nearly empty bottle of Jack and that song on the jukebox.

That fucking song.

A knock at the door confused him further, as he scanned the room for any signs of Sam but saw none. He stumbled towards the door and tried to read the name of the motel off the fire exit map, but age had worn most of the letters away. The door wasn’t chained, so he attached it, then opened it just open to peer one untrustworthy eye at whomever had come knocking.

The man looked familiar, but in his current state, it escaped Dean on where he knew him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough with whiskey and sleep.

“Dean… it’s me, Mario. Came to check up on ya buddy. You hit the bottle hard last night my friend.” He raised up the white, grease-stained bag of food and smiled. “Can I come in? I brought breakfast.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and recalled a very blurry memory of Mario helping him off the barstool. He closed the door, unchained it and let Mario in, snatching the bag of food the moment the man walked through the door and spying inside it.

“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I was going in to open the bar and wanted to see if you were alright.”

“You’re the one who got me in here last night?”

“Yeah. You had passed out on the bar top, man. Mumbling Y/N’s name and slurring the words of some song. I felt bad for ya, couldn’t get your brother to answer his phone to come get you, so I got you a room and here you are.”

Dean paused as he unwrapped the sausage sandwich and hash browns, “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Y/N would kill me if I didn’t. I offered to call her for you, but you were adamant that I didn’t. What happened? You guys were friends, right? I mean she used to talk about you all the time.”

“She did?” he asked before devouring the food, trying not to sound overly excited.

“Yeah, she, uh—” he stopped when his phone rang from his pocket. He pulled it out just enough to see the number and jumped up from the chair he’d just sat on. “Oh damn, I really gotta go. My boss is waiting for me at the bar. Glad you’re alright man, enjoy the grub. Your car is parked around back, by the way. I left the keys on the nightstand.”

“You drove my car?!” Dean asked with a bit of angry induced panic.

“Had to get you here somehow. Got my sister to follow me over and bring me home. Sorry, I gotta run, it was good to see you though,” Mario smiled but was happy to leave quickly when he realized Dean was upset about the car.

Dean finished the food and went to check on his baby and grab his duffle bag, before going back to the room and taking the longest, hottest shower of his life.

Two hours later, Dean had left the motel behind him, firmly pointed in the direction of home. Sam was off helping Eileen with a case in Idaho and pissed at him anyway. There was no other cases on his radar, so he figured home would be his best option.

As he put more miles between him and the small mountain town Y/N lived in, without looking, he rifled through the box of cassette tapes at his side. Not caring what he found, he shoved the first one he grabbed into the tape deck and slammed on the breaks when he recognized the opening licks to Reckless Life off the G N’R Lies, album. The song piped through the Impala’s speakers, making his jaw clench in frustration. He knew what he had to do, and if he fought it any longer, he would finally go insane.

“Sonofabitch!” he yelled and slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. “Fuck this,” he growled and sharply turned the wheel, spinning Baby around and pushing the gas pedal straight down to the floor.

The sun was nearing noon and the heat of the day was stifling as he guided the car up to her house. He fully expected to find her car in the driveway but wasn’t sure if it would be alone or not. To his surprise, her vehicle was gone, but Martin’s was there.

Dean realized that he didn’t care, he needed to see her. He needed to know if the months of pining for this woman had been worth it… was she worth it? He wanted to touch her; kiss her at least once. If it earned him a punch in the face from her husband, so be it. Dean knew he wasn’t normally the kind of man that would purposely break up a marriage, but he also knew he’d hate himself if he didn’t at least try.

He didn’t know what he was doing, exactly. Dean moved on instincts alone when he got out of the car and slowly approached the front door. He figured they got him this far in life, why not just follow them now. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her husband. Hell, he didn’t even know if they were still together. The only thing he did know was that her image wasn’t going away, and he needed to see her.

Every step he took, a different reason or thought barreled through his mind as to why he shouldn’t be doing this.

She doesn’t know about your life… what if when you tell her she freaks and runs… and this is all for nothing?

What if she’s happy with him now?

What if you misread the whole situation, you jackass?

What if, what if, what if…

Dean was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear her car pull up into the driveway or the door closing behind him.

You pulled into the driveway, and your stomach bottomed out at the sight of the Impala on the curb. At first you thought it was a dream, or the ghosts of things past coming back to haunt you. But seeing Dean slowly approaching your front door, caused you to realize it was real, and freeze completely. A swirling eddy of thoughts and emotions rushed through you so fast, you could barely understand any of them… scared for what was about to happen, delighted to see him, terrified of Martin’s reaction, curious, enamored, excited, petrified… Finally, once you were able to move, you got out of the car and started to approach him.

“Dean?”

He stopped at the sound of your voice, and when he turned around, it was as if no time had passed at all. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth and you noticed his hands nervously clenching and releasing.

“Hey.” His voice was deeper and raspier, his face looked drawn and tired, but there was the same wanting need burning in his eyes, getting more intense the longer he held your gaze.

“Hey,” you replied in more of a squeak, than an actual response. “What, uh, what’s up? Why are you here?”

“Well, oddly enough I ended up the bar last night. Had one too many and, uh…” he paused and chuckled sheepishly, “guess I tied one on. Mario got me to a room to pass out in.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, killer hangover, but,” he smiled and shrugged, “you know how it goes.”

You nodded but didn’t know what to say. You were fighting the urge to get any closer, to spark the conversation as to why he was really there. You thought maybe if you could keep it to friendly banter, you’d be able to watch him leave without it sparking any trouble with Martin. It may have worked, if he hadn’t noticed the shirt you were wearing.

Dean swallowed thickly and tentatively took the last dozen steps to close the gap between you. “You still have it.”

“Of course. I couldn’t ever part with it,” you smiled softly and pulled at the hem. “It was a great concert.”

“I was on my way home, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaky and nervous as he suddenly changing the subject. “I was headed home, running home actually, away from this damn town and that fucking bar. I was leaving without seeing you or causing you any trouble. Hell, I didn’t even mean to show up here. I was in the area for work, and somehow…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle and recite that infamous line from Casablanca. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world… he walks into mine,” you mumbled, but he heard you and nodded.

“Yeah, exactly. What sort of threw me, even more, was when that song came on the jukebox. Then when I was driving home, I pull out any old random cassette just to kill the silence and it’s ones of theirs,” he said and motioned to your shirt.

You tried to stifle the emotion that was building, as you recalled your own night before and hearing the song, seemingly random on the radio. But there was nothing random about that at all.

“Dean… I—”

“Just, let me finish, okay? My life is messy, and sort of going in one specific direction. There’s a plan, here, and it doesn’t include a whole lot of people that stick around. Its full of crazy coincidences, and lots of… scary things. I have no right to be here, to be talking to you in front of the house you share with your husband, but yet, here I am. Because I’m selfish, and I couldn’t leave without telling you—”

“Telling me what, Dean?”

“That, I’m pretty sure I’m love with you. The simple fact that I don’t know what you thought that was back then, friendship or something more, or that I’ve haven’t kissed you yet… it makes no sense. I just know that the time I spent with you at that bar, and at the concert… it won’t go away. YOU won’t go away.”

His declaration was shocking at first, but then, it wasn’t. Not really and mostly because, that’s exactly how you felt. There was no rhyme or reason for it. You spent a week of nights just talking to this stranger, getting wrapped up in his wit and charm. That moment you had at the concert cemented it, you felt something for him that you shouldn’t. Because you “belonged” to someone else, you didn’t allow yourself any more time to ponder what could have been with Dean. But now…

“Look, Y/N, I know there’s a lot—”

The front door crashed open cutting off his thought, and Martin stalked outside in nothing but a pair of jeans looking like a man crazed.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he roared at you, completely ignoring Dean standing there. He barreled towards you, a thin layer of sweat immediately forming on his head as the hot afternoon sun blazed down on everyone, heightening the atmosphere already heavy with excitement.

Dean seemed stuck in place, watching Martin come at you like a bull towards a Matador. It was when Martin’s hand grabbed your upper arm, that he sprang into action. Martin’s grip on your arm sent a bolt of pain down to your hand as you tried to wiggle free of his grasp, causing you to yelp with pain.

“Man, you better let her go,” Dean warned, finally earning a bit of attention from your husband.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Martin yelled, let go of you and tried to cock his arm back to punch Dean. Before he could even swing his arm forward, Dean popped the much larger man in his jaw, causing him to stumble back away from you. Dean stepped in front of you, protecting you from being grabbed again and clenched his fist in anticipation to swing a second time.

“I’m the guy she’s leaving with, that’s who,” Dean growled.

You grabbed a handful of his shirt and buried your face into his back. His shirt was sweaty, and he still smelled faintly of whiskey, but you didn’t care. At that moment all you wanted to do was go with him and never look back. But you couldn’t without standing up to Martin first.

Dean tried to stop you, but you ignored his attempt. “Martin, I’m sorry. I… I can’t do this anymore.” You looked at Dean briefly and was encouraged to continue just from the look of relief on his face. “I don’t love you anymore.”

“But you love him?! This is the same guy, isn’t it? The one you cheated with when I was gone!” Martin was making his way back towards Dean, ready for a second chance to fight.

“Yes and no. I never cheated on you, but yes, I met him at the bar and he became my friend. I never slept with him, never even kissed him. But I fell in love with him anyway. I’m sorry, Martin…”

He stopped coming towards you and Dean and laughed. “You know what, take her. She’s been nothing but a pain in the ass since I met her. I should never have come back to this shit town. Do you know what I left behind for you, you bitch? I left a good job and a good woman.”

You and Dean both were taken aback by that last part, but you didn’t even care. “Well then, I guess nothing’s stopping you from going back there then, is there?”

Dean slipped his hand into yours, just like he did that night at the concert and squeezed it tightly.

“Go fuck yourself, you whore,” he spat and shook his head. “This, this is mine, along with everything in it,” he motioned back wildly towards the house. “Car, too. So, if you leave, you leave with the shirt on your back and nothing else.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine by me. This shirt, this is my most prized possession anyway.” You turned to Dean and thought about kissing him right there, but you didn’t want your first kiss with him to be around your soon to be ex-husband. Instead, you simply asked Dean. “Ready?”

He didn’t say a word, only led you away from Martin and towards his car. As he pulled away from the curb, you silently said goodbye to the life you felt so desperately trapped in and didn’t feel one ounce of regret for it.

The first mile or two, both of you were completely silent. Dean moved the car into an empty parking lot of some closed-down supermarket and turned off the engine. The second he turned to you, you moved across the seat and exhaled nervously. His expression softened and his mouth relaxed into the hint of a grin.

“I thought about you every day,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Dean’s hand lightly brushed against your cheek, before lowering his lips towards yours. There had been so much anticipation for this moment on both parts, he didn’t want to rush it. His mouth hovered over yours, barely grazing against you, and when they finally came together it wasn’t anything like you imagined.

There wasn’t fireworks or electric sparks flying everywhere. That had already happened the night you met him. This was more of a reassurance; proof that this man was meant for you, and you for him. Dean kissed you softly, his lips parting only briefly but he didn’t rush it. Your patience had paid off and now you had all the time in the world; no reason to hurry anything along, except your slow burning need to feel more of him.

You positioned your hand on the back of his neck, which encouraged him to part your lips with his tongue. The more your mouths merged together, the more he tasted like mint and coffee, and easily felt better than anything had ever felt in your entire life. Dean’s hands traveled roughly down the length of your side, only pulling away from your kiss to slide himself closer, guiding your hips so you were now straddling his lap in the front seat of the Impala.

“Worth the wait?” you teased before kissing him again.

His hand tangled up in your hair, pushing your mouth deeper onto his. When you were able to come up for air again, he smiled as if still living in a dream. “So fucking worth it.”

“Dean, there’s so much we don’t know—”

“I know, and we will. We will figure it all out. Right now, all I know is that falling in love with you wasn’t a part of my life plan, but I don’t regret that I did. I don’t regret anything. I hope you don’t either.”

“Never,” you replied wistfully.

“You say that now,” he teased, but there was fear in his eyes.

“I will say that always. I knew I was in love with you by the second day I knew you. I just thought it was a crush since you were the first guy that was kind and made me laugh, that didn’t just hit on me or grab my ass. You made me feel so much just by talking to me, laughing with me. That concert, I wanted to kiss you, tell you to keep driving… but I got scared.”

“I wish you had,” he rasped and cupped your cheek with his hand. He slowly guided your face to his, allowing your lips to engage each other again. This time it was even harder to break away and you nearly weren’t able too. Cooler heads prevailed and eventually, you climbed off his lap, leaving him very clearly affected.

“That hotel you stayed at… think your room is still available?” you asked cautiously. “I mean, we don’t have to rush anyth—”

Dean started the engine and peeled out onto the road, roaring down the pavement and straight back to where he woke up that morning. You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh at his reaction. As his one hand rested on the wheel, directing the Impala down the highway, his other arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in.

“Patience is great and all, but I’m done waiting, now that I actually got you,” he said and kissed the top of your head, before putting his eyes back on the road.

You buried yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your hand on his thigh. You didn’t care what came next, you were pretty damn content right where you were and had no plans on going anywhere.

#cole winchester writing challenge #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester angst

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enigmaphenomenon · 6 years

Text

Something’s up with Jack (Another Jack analysis)

I believe Handsome Jack has Borderline Personality Disorder.

Let’s first go through the symptoms of BPD. In order to be diagnosed with BPD one needs to have repeated patterns of 5 out of 9 symptoms of BPD. I’ll go through the symptoms Jack displays.

Google gives a very brief list of symptoms. I’ll highlight the ones Jack is shown having.

Behavioral: antisocial behavior, compulsive behavior, hostility, impulsivity, irritability, risk taking behaviors, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, social isolation, or lack of restraint

Mood: anger, anxiety, general discontent, guilt, loneliness, mood swings, or sadness

Psychological: depression, distorted self-image, grandiosity, or narcissism

So let’s just dive right into his symptoms. I don’t...really need to provide examples of Jack’s narcissism, do I? Because that one is obvious as all hell.

1) An intense fear of abandonment, even going to extreme measures to avoid real or imagined separation or rejection.

Oh yeah. And Jack reacts quite violently to what he perceives as betrayals and/or abandonment. If you trust Jack instead of Fiona at the end of Episode 2, and refuse to trust him in Episode 3 when he asks you too...uh...

“Oh. Oh, that’s a... shame. Because I thought--- I thought we were becoming pals. Saved your life back there and you...still don’t trust me? You know I’m uh...I’ve had to deal with this my whole damn life you know? You try to do the right thing and people just... crap all over you for it. Well, congrats kiddo. You’re the latest in a long line of Jack-shitters. Super psyched about it.”

This isn’t the first time Jack mentions that he should have seen this all coming, he mentions it again at the end of Episode 5.

“I should have seen this coming--ever since I came to this nacho-flavored shithole of a planet. I’ve been betrayed by everybody I gave rat’s ass about. My boss. My girlfriend. Hell...my goddamn daughter.”

Then, of course, Jack telling Rhys...

And....

Jack has extreme violent reactions to people he views as being against him, even when they aren’t. Adding to this is Jack’s hatred of all vault-hunters due to Lilith and Roland’s betrayal and also his fear of being shot in the back if he lets his enemies live. Remember he was willing to forgive the Meriff and let him live until the Meriff tries to shoot Jack as he’s walking away. This then leads to Jack airlocking scientists just for the mere possibility one of them might be working for Zarpedon. Also, when Athena or whoever else you play suggest just rushing to the vault and not fighting Jack insists they all must die, stating that if you let your enemies live, they’ll shoot you in the back.

2) A pattern of unstable intense relationships, such as idealizing someone one moment and then suddenly believing the person doesn't care enough or is cruel. (People with BPD tend to have relationships that are intense and short-lived. You may fall in love quickly, believing each new person is the one who will make you feel whole, only to be quickly disappointed. Your relationships either seem perfect or horrible, with nothing in between. Your lovers, friends, or family members may feel like they have emotional whiplash from your rapid swings between idealization and devaluation, anger, and hate.)

Moxxi, Rhys, Angel, and his second wife.

Moxxi says he was clingy and that’s why she dumped Jack, Jack blew up her slaughter dome thing due to this, but this doesn’t stop him from asking her for help to fight against Zarpedon.

Rhys? Aw man just take a look at this switch.

“Oh, wow. I wish I could hug you right now. I’m gonna make a robot that just hugs you when I tell it to. I’m so proud. I’m so proud of my special boy! This is a perfect partnership, Rhys. You trusted me. I trusted you, and now we’re here! Man--never really had a partner I could count on before. Feels kinda dope”

No Jack, Rhys doesn’t want a giant Endoskeleton to crawl inside his body.

“This was YOUR chance to make history, you moron! To be part of a legacy! To matter for once in your useless little life!”

Angel doesn’t need to be explained right? In the ECHO logs in Borderlands 2 Jack cycles between being amiable towards her and then lashing out at her.

His relationship with his second wife was ruined over him refusing to shut down the control core, and in an ECHO log it’s stated she disappeared shortly after telling Jack to shut down the control core.

3) Identity disturbance, such as a significant and persistent unstable self-image or sense of self

Jack is a meglomaniac who sees himself as the hero and as a god, but, in BL2 he brings this up:

"I know you think I'm a monster. You think I enslaved Angel. But you didn't see what she did to her mother. I had to restrain Angel's power. You get that? I had to."

He brings this up to the vault hunter. Why? What does he care what the vault hunter thinks of him? Jack sure as hell hasn’t cared at all about “bandits” opinions of him. And he really isn’t shy about blaming other people for something, come on, this is the same man who says he shot a baby because THE BABY was being a dick.

Jack doesn’t blame Angel for betraying him. As he said in TFTBL, she had no choice. He also doesn’t say that vault hunters killed her. He says that she killed herself.

This is Jack being hit with the realization that his daughter is dead, and that he drove her to it. He’s the monster who enslaved Angel, but he says he had to do it (I’ll go deeper into this in a different essay). He had to to restrain her power, he had to, as if he didn’t have a choice. There is guilt behind these words.

To compare, in Tomb Raider 2013 there was extra dialogue (that for some reason was not in the final version of the game) after Lara has her first kill, she tells herself “I had to do it. I had to do it.” That’s how Lara rationalizes taking a life. If she had not killed that man, he would have killed her, so she “had to.”

I believe its the same with Jack. There is guilt there. Why would he feel the need to defend his actions to the vault hunters? To the “bandits?” He saw Angel ask the vault hunters to end her life, he saw her call them friend, her last dying breath was needing to tell her father that he’s an asshole. Jack knows. He knows what he’s done. But he’s too mentally ill to accept it, or change it. If anything, that just drove him further into insanity.

In TFTBL Jack also mentions that he knows where Rhys is coming from and imposter syndrome is normal, and to just strangle that voice in his head that says he’s not good enough.

4) Impulsive and risky behavior, such as gambling, reckless driving, unsafe sex, spending sprees, binge eating or drug abuse, or sabotaging success by suddenly quitting a good job or ending a positive relationship

Hahahaha ooooooh yeaaaaah.

Spending sprees: Butt Stallion

“My day? It's been pretty good. I just bought a pony made of diamonds, because I’m rich. So, you know. That’s cool.“

Unsafe sex:

“If I’da just thrown stock options at the Vault Hunters instead of bullets, I’d be on a beach right now doing disturbingly graphic things with the local ladies.”

Drug abuse:

He mashed up a mushroom and snorted it...a lot...

Primo hit of electri-drugs.

His chair also has contact activated Dopamine injectors.

Jack drinks, a lot apparently, since he thought either sex or drinking would kill him.

It really wouldn’t surprise me if Jack participated in orgies which he probably totally did.

5) Extreme emotional swings. Unstable emotions and moods are common with BPD. One moment, you may feel happy, and the next, despondent. Little things that other people brush off can send you into an emotional tailspin. These mood swings are intense, but they tend to pass fairly quickly (unlike the emotional swings of depression or bipolar disorder), usually lasting just a few minutes or hours.

Jack is...really unstable and I don’t think anyone will disagree.

ECHO logs in BL2 depict Jack going from manic to a fit of rage both with Angel and Mr. Tassiter. As well as Mr. Moorin who he strangles for mentioning his wife.

Or when he gets really excited...

6) Chronic feelings of emptiness. People with BPD often talk about feeling empty, as if there’s a hole or a void inside them. At the extreme, you may feel as if you’re “nothing” or “nobody.” This feeling is uncomfortable, so you may try to fill the hole with things like drugs, food, or sex. But nothing feels truly satisfying.

After becoming CEO he became dictator of Pandora, then decided...hey why not conquer more planets? Why not basically become a god? That toppled on top of Jack’s drug use and sex life. He bought a diamond horse and named it Butt-stallion...

He also says that when he takes Rhys’ body he’s still gonna use it to eat food and bang a bunch of people.

(A side note, Dameon Clarke while answering questions as Handsome Jack said that there’s a lot of smiling going on but he’s actually dead inside. I just wanted to add it here as a point of interest.)

Jack also tolerated Mr. Tassiter’s insults until Tassiter told Jack that he’s a pathetic nobody under his mask. This leads to Jack strangling him and keeping his goatee as a reminder of what happens to people when they’re a dick to Jack.

7)Explosive anger. If you have BPD, you may struggle with intense anger and a short temper. You may also have trouble controlling yourself once the fuse is lit—yelling, throwing things, or becoming completely consumed by rage. It’s important to note that this anger isn’t always directed outwards. You may spend a lot of time being angry at yourself.

I don’t feel I need to provide examples for this one. We’ve all seen Jack’s rage. He uh....really goes off and it is not easy to stop him.

Now that we got Jack’s symptoms out of the way let’s move on to causes.

Most mental health professionals believe that borderline personality disorder (BPD) is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, such as traumatic experiences in childhood.

...

Hereditary predisposition. You may be at a higher risk if a close relative — your mother, father, brother or sister — has the same or a similar disorder.

Stressful childhood. Many people with the disorder report being sexually or physically abused or neglected during childhood. Some people have lost or were separated from a parent or close caregiver when they were young or had parents or caregivers with substance misuse or other mental health issues. Others have been exposed to hostile conflict and unstable family relationships.

Let’s start with Jack’s genetics. If you saw my last post about Jack, it was wondering if Jack’s grandmother was a bandit and/or psycho due to her buzz axe. It is very possible that Jack’s grandmother and mother also suffer with some mental illness.

Onto the stressful childhood. Grandma’s buzz axe which was a disciplinary weapon she used on Jack, and in The Pre-Sequel, Jack is asked to describe his childhood which he says his mother abandoned him on his abusive grandmother who would smack him around. He also had a pet cat that his grandma drowned because he didn’t make his bed. He cites this as “the usual stuff”

Jack has both genetics and environmental factors that can lead to someone having mental disorders.

Jack’s drug use and drinking would aid in making his BPD symptoms much worse as well.

So...yeah, there’s my Jack analysis.

#handsome jack #handsome jack borderlands #I was listening to Jack's Obsessions from the nightmare before christmas

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