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kitsoa · 3 years

Note

So. Khux final. Your thoughts?

I knew I would see you in my Inbox! Greetings, been a while, apologies, summer vacation is tomorrow and I'm finally going to re-energize my fandom spaces. Overall thoughts: It was decent. Definitely a lot of wham moments and twists I didn't see coming. The execution of the characters were satisfying to a point that my complaints are truly weak by comparison. That said... I have gripes. Gripes that may have the bias of simply liking my own theories better but I plan to get the hell over myself. Long Post under the cut

The Darkness Ugh: I haven't commented on months of updated info due to the sinking distaste I had for the entire Sentient Darknesses conflict. I don't think it properly utilizes the Nightmare Chirithy concept and Darkling ideas that were heavily pushed in the early game (all the way to the last world). Regardless of the connection between the impetus of such threats, it felt a little shoehorned to create a new emergent threat in the Darkness Creatures. Ventus gets no blame, MoM and Luxu can feign some kind of noble intention, everyone is basically guiltless when trying to apprehend and eliminate a nebulous and hard-to-kill force such as them. I'll admit that it fits really well in the convolution of the Data-Worlds. The Union Leaders are a honeytrap essentially and it seems to have at least issued a major blow to the force of Darkness. I'm just not a fan of the implications of the future conflict I guess? I'm okay with Light and Dark themes but I really want them to explore it with more nuance. "Light is not Good" kind of tropes. I can't wait to see the Foretellers as bad guys but I don't want to blame some other possessing force. I want to see legitimate error and corruption. Maybe I'm being short-sighted with the development. I'm not giving it enough credit. It still makes my head spin with ideas.

Stuff I really LIKE because it reaffirms my thoughts on fictional realities which have already been confirmed but I am excited to see how literal it can get: Real Daybreak Town glitches as it falls to darkness. It's not as 'real' as any of them would like to believe. "A land where light and darkness cannot be controlled" maybe be fictional to MoM but that sounds like the real world to me. ※ is a literal icon for 'reference' which means the world is a reference to something else. Quadratrum is a reference to ffv13 AND/OR a reference to literal Shibuya the 'heart' of Tokyo. It can literally be both at the same time. I am convinced we are approaching terminal real world through this style of world-hopping. Playernort: I am actually pretty okay with the Player Xehanort thing. I firstly think it's funny because of the 'everyone is Xehanort' joke and now WE are Xehanort. If you believe in the infinite worldline idea than every Dandelion is Xehanort in some fashion because that avatar encompasses the entire Daybreak population and assumes the role of Xehanort's past life in some variation of the world's existence. I think it explains Xehanort's obsession with the keyblade war and finding the Union Leaders while I simply assumed there was something of value within them stirring that need. Heart reincarnation is a new(er) concept that is extremely interesting. It, first of all, says the quiet part out loud and confirms that 'sleeping hearts' are fricken Dead guys. I mean we know this but I don't think we have to call it 'essentially death!' it is death. You can literally choose to move on if you don't just sleep. There is no waking the player character anymore. They are literally a different person. It also invites some musing on Ventus and Sora's connection as semi-reincarnations. It's not exact because Ven did choose to sleep but the same process that happens in reincarnation was potentially invoked during their bond. My lore brain is very happy. Where they left off:

They say that you need someone to remember you at your destination, but Marly, Larx, and Ven had no one to bring them into existence like Maleficent did. A facet to the lore that really stumps me. Is that just a factor to ensure that they have memories? I have to assume so but I have no evidence. And we don't know if they are truly alone really (ven kinda wasn't) but it makes you wonder how the recollection of them was orchestrated. Of course Skuld is omitted, though she shares the unique context of leaving out of the same round of pods as Ephemer... who I don't think left at all. Ephemer is the only one who was still in his pod when it landed meaning he didn't time travel at all. I like to think that the Scala he creates has this... final world feel which leads me to believe he somehow ended up in the final world but he clearly didn't. Daybreak falls to darkness and he's swept up somewhere to create Scala. It's just interesting that he doesn't travel. It's a little similar to Kairi's use of the pod in that it just worked between worlds instead of time. And I think that's intentional on Ephie's part (to create the memories needed to bring his friends to the correct point in time?) The entire Brain situation leaves me very confused. There's Luxu possessing him? and Then he transports ahead in time? How does he have his memories if it was decided that he would arrive in Scala. Ugh. Whatever. It's interesting but dissecting Luxu isn't my forte so I'll leave it for when I'm feeling particularly inspired. Things left unsaid: Ava. That's the point I guess. They could have explained the Keyblade War much better. Worlds ending can be extremely vague.... Also, X-blade my ASS Xehanort was drunk and needs to go home and now I'm pissed at that stupid-looking keyblade and I wish it didn't exist because it CLEARLY DOESN'T APPARENTLY. Also, attempts at convincing me MoM is good have failed and I was not digging the insistent martyr thing he had going. I just don't trust him. Like one bit. I think he's playing everyone, but the Darkness shit bothers me because its not like I think he's siding with Darkness I just don't think that makes him noble or even misunderstood. Conclusion: This isn't necessarily a bad place to leave things off. It's very intriguing and I would love to see this reinterpreted. Thanks for forcing me to put my thoughts together, I had been avoiding this.

#long post #kingdom hearts #khux spoilers #kh theory #kh speculation #kh analysis

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impala-dreamer · 4 years

Text

Ecstasy

SPN FanFic

~Sam's major headache leads to a major oops on Dean's part and some major fun for Sam.~

Sam x Reader, Dean

3,969 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Accidental Drug Use. Smut. Hair Pulling. Stoned!Sex

A/N: This will stand as my Free Square for @spnkinkbingo 2020. I'm doing "Hair Pulling Kink" bc Sam totally likes to have his hair pulled. ;) Hope you all enjoy!

2020 KinkBingo Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

Sam pressed his forehead deeper into the ledge of his knuckles, hoping the pressure would distract his ears from the beeping and ease the headache pounding behind his eyes.

It did not.

“Shit.” Dean was across the way, kicked back in his chair, ankles cross on the tabletop, phone in hand. In between alternating whispered curses and victory cheers, his phone was making the most irritating bleeping noises. “Yeah, baby!”

A devastated and annoyed sigh filled the air and Sam let his hand fall to the table with a thud. “What are you doing?” he snapped, eyes wide, head shaking at Dean.

Green eyes popped up innocently. “Playing Tetris, what are you doing?”

Sam tossed his hands up and sat back. “I’m trying to work! Why is it so loud?”

“I don’t know, Tetris is loud.” Dean shrugged and hiss disappointedly as he put a cube in the wrong spot. “You’re distracting me, shut up.”

“I’m distracting you- I- what!”

A melodic whistle from the next room caught their ears and both boys looked up to see Y/N dancing about, shaking her ass as she cleaned up last night’s messy dinner. Headphones snug in her ears, she whistled along to the music as she picked up empty beer bottles and a few scattered napkins.

Dean leaned over the table to get a better view, humming in approval at the curves on display. “Nice.”

“Dean!” Sam scolded in a low voice, quickly looking away and back to his book.

“What? She’s got a nice-”

“Just stop it.”

Dean laughed and licked his chapped lips as he settled back in place. “I know you like her, it’s cool, man. She’s all yours.”

Sam’s spine straightened in defense even as a blush filled his cheeks. “She’s not- mine. What? I don’t-”

“Sammy,” Dean grinned, dropping his chin as his eyebrows rose knowingly. “You can’t hide this stuff from me. I see all.”

Sam cleared his throat and tried to end the conversation, ducking his gaze back to his text. “You don’t see anything. There’s nothing to see.”

“Lucky for you,” Dean went on, ignoring him, “she likes you too.”

“H-how do you know?” Sam refused to look up, but lifted his eyes slightly.

Dean sighed happily and puckered his lips. “Because she turned me down.”

That lifted Sam’s entire frame. “What!”

“I know, shocking, right? I mean…” Dean waved a hand down the length of himself Vanna White style. “How could she say no? But she did.”

“When?”

“Few months ago. We were working that case in Ossining- remember? And… we got a little buzzed and I made a move and…”

“Wow.”

“I know. It was a pretty good move.”

“No, not- I just- wow.”

Dean laughed and dropped his feet so he could lean over the table and lower his voice. “Look, she likes you. You like her. It’s cool.”

The tip of Sam’s tongue snuck out to hang on his lower lip as he looked a little to the left, contemplating Dean’s confession. “Huh.”

“Yup.” Satisfied that his point was made, Dean sat back and started the game again, bleeping away without a thought.

Sam soon turned back to his research, trying to forget what Dean had said about Y/N. If it was meant to be, it would be; there was no use dwelling on it, especially when there was work to be done.

Very time consuming, tedious work that involved translating handwritten Romanian from a faded text while listening to Dean's Tetris antics.

Thoughts of Y/N were soon drowned out by a sharp pounding in his left temple, and Sam gave up, throwing his pencil down like a gavel and leaning back. He clutched his skull and groaned.

“Dude, go take something,” Dean suggested after slipping a bar into place and clearing three lines at once.

Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. You want anything?”

“Nah. Awe, damnit! Freaking cube again!”

The farther from Dean he walked, the calmer Sam felt, but his head was still pulsing.

The kitchen was practically bare and no meds were to be found. Sam growled lowly as he shuffled back to the library and paused in the archway.

“There's an empty bottle of Excedrin in the pantry,” he said cooly.

Dean looked up from his phone with a lingering smile. “OK. Did you take some?”

“Empty. Bottle.” Sam enunciated each letter and Dean's smile fell.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Dean closed one eye as he thought up both an excuse and solution at once. “Uh, I think there's some Tylenol in my room.”

Sam grit his teeth and nodded curtly. “Thanks.”

A handful of little white pills later, Sam was back in his seat, head in hand, waiting for relief to find him. He cradled his head in his hands, fingers splayed across his forehead, eyes glazing over the words set before him. It was slow going.

“Hey, bros,” Y/N greeted, taking the seat next to Sam as she set down three beers on the table. “Whatcha doin’?”

Dean happily reached for a beer. “Beating my high score.”

Sam sighed. “Working. Or trying to.” He looked up to find Y/N watching him intently and it made his heart race. “What’re y-you up to?” He could feel his cheeks flush and Y/N smiled.

“Oh, big day for me,” she said, sitting back with a beer. “I cleaned the bathroom- gross by the way,” she said, casting an eye at Dean. “You know you can rinse out the sink after you shave. It’s not hard.”

Dean waved a dismissive hand and failed to flip a Z piece in time. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighed and turned back to Sam who’s eyes had never left her face. “Then I did two loads of laundry,” she continued, ticking her chore list off on one hand. “Found my lost Blues Traveler tee- under the bed,” she added in a whisper, cupping her hand to her cheek as if it were a secret, “and just finished reorganizing 6A. Did you know we have jars full of random animal bones? Because...ew.”

Sam managed a daze laugh, but found it hard to look away from her perfect lips as they frowned in disgust. “Yeah. Bones.”

“So whatcha working on?” Y/N smiled and leaned over to look at his book, and Sam’s breath nearly stopped.

His eyes zoomed in on the delicate lines on her lips, the hint of teeth just between as she spoke, the way she bit the tip of her tongue just slightly when she smiled. His mouth was watering, his pulse pounding, so focused on her mouth as she came closer.

“Sam?”

Y/N laughed at his awkward stare and he nearly jumped out of his skin, startled back into himself.

“Yeah. Yes. Working.” He swallowed hard and shivered, prying his eyes from Y/N to the book. “Um… It’s-er- lore. From the- Romania on things.”

“OK…” Y/N shook her head at his ramblings and sat back, lifting the beer bottle to her lips. She puckered her mouth and took a delicate sip as her head tipped back, and Sam made a noise that turned all their heads, even his own.

“Dude,” Dean gasped across the table at the audible moan that pushed up from the back of Sam’s throat, and Sam quickly coughed, hoping to cover his mishap.

Y/N politely ignored the noise, turning her face away as an embarrassingly pleased smile tickled her lips. She took another drink, slower this time, and Sam could not stop himself.

His pupils went wide as he watched the muscles in her throat contract, as he saw her mouth move around the thick bottle neck. He groaned again and shifted in his seat, his pants growing tighter with unsolicited lust.

Dean sat forward and slapped a hand on the table to get Sam’s attention. “You OK, man?”

Sam startled and twisted in his chair, rubbing his damp palms over his thighs to dry them. “What? Yes. What? Why?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed in concern. “You’re all… shaky.”

Y/N, too, was watching Sam carefully. “And you’re sweating.” She put the beer down and leaned over, gently placing her wrist on Sam’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

Her touch felt like lightning, his entire body sparking with the feeling of her skin upon his. His heart skipped too many beats and when it came back, it was frantic and loud, banging against his ribs. He closed his eyes, wishing it all away, but Y/N’s sweet voice tickled his ear.

“Sam, are you feeling alright?”

His stomach tightened and his cock jumped, painfully swelling against the roughness of his jeans. “Uh…” He shuddered and took a deep breath, holding it until his shoulders stopped shaking. “W-will you excuse me, please?”

Sam jumped up before she could answer, dragging the old Romanian book on gypsies with him, holding it over his crotch as camouflage. He ran from the room, and Y/N looked at Dean with worried eyes.

“Something I said?”

Dean chewed his lip, pondering the situation, and excused himself as well after finishing his beer in two long pulls. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam was in the mouth of the hallway, filling up the cavernous passageway with not only his height but his frantic movements. He paced back and forth across the seven foot wide tiled expanse, his teeth gnawing at the middle nail of his left hand.

Dean approached quickly but gently. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Sam skidded to a halt and turned on his heel, eyes wide, sweat glistening on his forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t calm down. I’m like, my- with- and she- there was- I couldn’t sit there anymore. Do you know how soft her skin is?”

“Whoa.” Dean raised his hands carefully, trying to get Sam to calm down. “Reel it in, man.”

“I can’t. I can’t. It’s like my brain is jumping. And my heart is like- boom boom boom. Did you see Y/N’s lips on that bottle? Oh my god- it was like- wow.” Sam’s stomach flipped again and he bit his lip to keep in a moan. “What is happening!”

Dean shook his head, dumbfounded. “What the hell did you take?”

“Tylenol!” Sam snapped back. “You told me to take the tylenol in your room! Because somebody finished the Exce-”

“Oh...fuck.” Dean exhaled slowly and sought sanctuary on the ceiling, but found none.

“Dean…”

“Which bottle?”

Sam’s shoulders rose up to his ears. “Which bottle! The one in your nightstand. You said to take the Tylenol. I took the Tylenol. You said the one in your room. That’s the one I took. Why the fuck? What!”

Dean tread carefully. “Ya know, it’s no big deal,” he said with a fake laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

“What did you do!”

“I did nothing!” Dean defended, backing away slightly as Sam lurched forward. “You… may have taken some-”

“Some what, Dean?”

Dean let out a breath that rumbled his pursed lips. “Ecstasy?”

Sam’s explosion was instant and a little bit terrifying. The book dropped to the floor as both his massive hands rose to strangle the air in front of Dean’s face, inching ever closer to his actual neck. “What is ecstasy doing in the Tylenol, Dean!”

“You remember Chloe, right?” Dean said quickly, hoping to weasel out of danger with a memory. “The waitress from Lincoln with the sister who had the big…” He smirked, hands out and curved around his chest. “You remember. Anyway- I didn’t want to just leave it laying around so…”

Sam’s jaw was near to breaking with how tightly he gnashed his teeth together. “So you put it in the Tylenol?” His voice echoed down the hall and Dean shushed him quickly, lest Y/N come running.

“I forgot, OK? I was drunk. Anyway, it’s old. That was like three years ago. You’ll be fine. Just...go lay down. You’re freaking vibrating.”

Sam spun around three times, tugging at his hair as his muscles twitched. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Go lay down and sleep it off,” Dean ordered, clamping a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You’re fine.”

“Remind me to kill you tomorrow.”

“Will do, buddy.” Dean patted his back and gave him a push, sending Sam off to bed. “Goodnight.”

The sheets were so soft, Sam couldn’t stop touching them. He ran his hands down across the mattress, feeling every single thread in the woven fabric, wondering if he could count them all if he concentrated really hard.

The pillow was cool against his cheek. It rubbed against his face, so soft and cool, wicking away the heat from his skin until it was warm and he frowned, quickly flipping it over to feel the cold again. It was amazing.

He was burning up, sweating and prickling with energy. He could feel every hair on his body, every cell was alive and moving. It was maddening and incredible, and he wanted… something. He needed...something.

Y/N knocked, but Sam was too lost in his own frantically dancing thoughts to acknowledge her. She opened the door a crack, peeking in just to make sure he was decent.

“Sam?”

He jumped at the sound of her sweet voice and turned over quickly, sitting up to face her. “Hey, Y/N/N.”

She stepped inside and kicked the door shut with a tap of her heel. “I just wanted to check on you,” she said cheerfully, tossing a water bottle at him. “Feeling any better?”

He missed the catch and the bottle landed by his side on the bed. “Uh, yeah. Good. Why? How are you? Are you ok?” He rambled while trying to pick up the bottle, immediately distracted by the weight of the water and the way it felt moving in his hands. He stared into the clear plastic and Y/N raised her brows in worry.

“What is going on with you?”

“It's like holding an ocean,” he mused, entranced by a bubble near the cap.

“Right.” Cautiously, she came close and touched his hand, moving it and the bottle away from his eyes. “Sam…”

The touch of her fingers on his made Sam's blood sing. His focus zoomed in on her delicate hand, the supple, soft skin, the dimples of her knuckles. He couldn't breathe for what seemed like forever, his lungs frozen, body void of all function except the nerve endings that sizzled with her touch.

“Want…”

She cocked her head at his faint whisper and moved her hands to his cheeks, looking him over with concerned eyes. “Sam, what's wrong? Tell me what you need.”

He took a quick breath and looked up into her eyes, losing himself in the heat of her hands. “I need…”

She leaned closer, wanting to help, scared of the wild look in his eyes. “Tell me. Anything you need, Sam. I'm here.”

His pulse was pounding, loud in his ears; his skin was on fire, stomach churning with nerves. He breathed deep, trying to calm himself but finding no point. She was what he needed. Always had been. “I need...you.”

Her breath caught and Y/N shook her head gently, in confusion not disapproval. “What?”

“You,” he said again, eyes looking deep into hers. “I need you, Y/N.”

“Are you-”

Sam laid his hands on top of hers, his eyes rolling a bit at the softness of her skin. “High? A little. Yeah. Dean and the- it's a long story there was a waitress with- it doesn't matter.” She let him ramble, amazed by the strange lightness of his voice. Sam stumbled over his own tongue, words spilling out before he could think them through. “The point isn't about the waitress. I had a headache and- Y/N… can I?”

She laughed gently. “Can you what, Sam?”

“I wanna kiss you. Can I- um...may I kiss you?”

Heart in her throat, unable to answer, Y/N simply nodded and chewed nervously at her lip, waiting for the kiss she'd wanted since the moment they'd met.

Sam's face lit up with a smile. “Really?” He moved his hands from hers to hover over her cheeks, unsure if he should let them land. He could feel the space between them, their auras touching, atoms ricocheting off each other in the tiny gap.

“Yes, Sam,” she sputtered in a whisper. “Kiss me.”

It wasn't a kiss, it was an explosion. Sam let go of every nervous doubt, every worry, every self conscious thought that had ever passed behind his hazel eyes and finally took a leap two and a half years in the making.

His fingertips landed on the apples of her cheeks and he pushed upwards, taking her lips without a second thought. The feeling was maddening and Sam sealed his eyes shut tight, enjoying the sensations sparking against his mouth. She breathed against him, parting her lips to snake her tongue across his mouth and Sam moaned loudly, his hands moving to grab hold of her neck and shoulders, pulling her down.

They fell onto the bed; sheet billowing around them as their bodies tangled. Sam kissed her again and again, unable to decide which kiss felt better: the quick press of warm lips, or a lingering, soft pull. When her tongue touched his again, he gave up trying to analyze and licked into her mouth like a starving man.

Y/N tried to roll off of his chest, but Sam followed her, turning onto his side so that as much of him was touching as much of her as he could manage. The very thought of moving his hands away from her body was sheer panic, and he clung to her with all he had.

“God, you feel so good,” he panted in between kisses, holding her close. He ran his hand up and down her side, marveling at the dip at her waist and the softness of her hips. “I never knew it could feel so good. Fuck. I…” His voice was cracking, nervousness creeping back into his mind. What if she didn't want more, what if she was just here because he was a wreck? His fingertips paused at the hem of her shirt, twitching as he debated reaching under the cotton. “Can I- I need to- feel you.”

Y/N kissed him hard and grabbed his hand, guiding it up underneath her shirt. Sam stiffened as she pressed his palm against her breast and he let loose a husky growl.

“Touch me, Sam,” she urged, squeezing his hand so that his fingers curled around her. “I want you to.”

He sighed against her lips and the animal inside took over. Sam lifted her with him as he sat up, quickly pulling her shirt off. He stared for a moment, stunned by the dip between her breasts and the soft mounds caged and held high by her bra. When Y/N unhooked the clasp and pulled the fabric away, Sam dove down, locking his mouth around her nipple, and feeling the flesh harden against his tongue. He hummed, feeling every dimple like a spark of fire on his lips, and he sucked hard, drawing a husky moan from Y/N.

“Fuck, Sam!” She pushed her fingers through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. When he bit down on her, she yanked a fistful of hair and Sam let her tit fall from his mouth as his head flew backwards, eyes rolling as tortured pleasure spread through him like icy fingers down his spine.

“Do it again,” he breathed, chest heaving, lips wet and parted.

Y/N pulled his hair again and he let out a wail of desperation and sank back onto the bed.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, reaching for her hips to pull her close. “Everything feels so good.”

She wiggled her arm out from beneath his head and tossed a leg over him, straddling his trim hips. Sam looked up with dark eyes that struggled to focus, his lips trembling as she plucked his shirt buttons open. His hands traveled slowly up her thighs, massaging with unmappable touches as he tried to feel all of her at once. By the time his hands cupped her breasts again, Y/N had his flannel open and she bent down to lick at his chest while pushing the cotton further from his broad shoulders.

“Oh-my-god.” He was near to hysteria, every atom in his body craving more. “Please.”

The tip of her tongue flickered, hot, over his left nipple and Sam nearly roared as the sensation zapped through him. Y/N sat back then and rubbed her ass over his jeans, making his eyes roll back hard.

“I-I-fuck, please...” His jaw dropped as she rocked forward again, denim on denim, rough yet gentle; friction heating the air between them and making his cock swell even harder.

Y/N tugged her hand through his long hair once more, loving the silkiness between her fingers, the pathetic cry it pulled from his throat. “You need something else, baby?”

“Need-”

She yanked the chestnut strands, winding her fingers around the soft locks until her knuckles grazed his scalp.

“Tell me.”

Sam opened his eyes, struggling to focus on her, panting as the pain spread like delicious fire across his skull. “Need to fuck you. Please.”

Another firm tug lifted his chin and Y/N kissed him hard, plunging her tongue into his dazed mouth, lapping at the stale taste of beer and mint that lingered on his tongue. “You sure?”

His head lolled to the side when her hand disappeared. “Yes. Please. Please.”

Zippers were ripped, buttons snapped and belts opened, drawers discarded. Sam could barely stand it. The slide of his own hands as he undressed drove him insane; the sight of Y/N stripping for him made his heart beat dangerously fast.

Finally, she came back to him, hopping back into his lap, taking his lips again as she slid down, slowly impaling herself on his enormous erection. She inched down as gently as she could, holding her breath against his mouth as her cunt stretched for him.

Sam held on, wrapping his arms tight around her back, holding her close so neither would fall. His head was spinning, his blood rushing too fast, pounding in his ears.

“Please…”

“It’s OK, Sam,” Y/N whispered, kissing his cheek sweetly, “I got this…”

Dean tripped over his bootlace in the hallway but caught himself and laughed it off, thankful that no one was around to see his balancing ballet. Realizing he was putting himself in mortal danger, he finally shut down his game and stashed the phone in his back pocket, sighing as he said adieu to his high score.

“I could go professional,” he mused as he passed Sam’s room. “Do they do tournaments for Tetris?” He paused, scrunching up his nose as he thought about the ridiculousness of such an idea.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean spun on his heel and headed back to Sam’s bedroom, lifting a closed fist to knock on the door. “Do they do Tetris- oh...”

Just as quickly as he had before, Dean spun around again, this time smirking as the unmistakable sounds of fevered lovemaking made their way through the ancient door. Shaking his head, Dean made a mental note to ask Sam about his new money-making idea in the morning. That, and what he and Y/N had gotten up to thanks to his accidental drugging.

Dean laughed to himself. “Poor kid needs to be stoned to make a move.”

From behind the door, Y/N let out a wail, screaming Sam’s name without care.

Dean paused for a moment to listen, nodding proudly before heading off to bed. “That’s my boy.”

2020 Forever Tags: @67-chevy-baby @akshi8278 @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

#sam x reader #dean #smut #spnkinkbingo 2020

360 notes · View notes

musashi · 3 years

Note

are there any stories/facts about your job/coworkers you can comfortably share? maybe something cool they did/you did with them recently? anyone that stands out in particular among them, without getting too specific for. clear reasons?

what's cheeseburger up to atm? any notable stories or anything about him recently, or has he been just living his best life as usual?

which of the skyloft NPCs do you particularly like? for arguments sake, this is excluding the more story relevant ones, so no groose + his gang, no zelda obviously, etc.

as an opposite to that, talk about groose! i've always loved him as a character, and the bits you've said about him and his relationship with link and zelda is always great! also, any notable kin memories you have of groose? especially things that occured after he left skyloft, or even after the demise fight. what did he get up to after the credits rolled?

fun stories about your loftwing? were there any traits you and him shared notably? or any that were more opposite?

what are some of your favorite things about your favorite iterations of zelda? what i mean by that is like... what do you like best about tetra/wind waker zelda? what about skyward zelda? botw zelda? they're similar but all unique people, so what endears you the most about each of them?

i know this is a lot, so don't feel like you have to answer in any specific time frame. take as long as is comfortable, and i hope this helps!! ~🍄

these are so many!!! thank you for being so generous!!!

most of the ppl i work w are. kinda rude to me all the time so i mostly just drown them out so i don’t go insane. but there is this one kid who is just, like, a ray of sunshine every time he walks into a room. and he works so hard and he cares about his work and i feel like he’s the only bitch who gets me. we vibe over zelda and will just get into debates about the lore on the clock and i look forward to seeing him a lot.

what's cheeseburger up to atm? any notable stories or anything about him recently, or has he been just living his best life as usual?

he’s just doin he. he sleeps a lot. sometimes in boxes. sometimes under beds. sometimes directly on top of me.

a few weeks back i went to the ER for what i figured out was a kidney stone and while i was literally on my bed writhing in pain trying to hold out until my grandparents got there cheeseburger just like, jumped up on top of me and immediately starting pissing on me, as if to say haha, check this out. i can urinate better than you.

which of the skyloft NPCs do you particularly like? for arguments sake, this is excluding the more story relevant ones, so no groose + his gang, no zelda obviously, etc.

i love all of them so much oh no... everyone i love i love for kinnie reasons like i am tempted to say jakamar cause even though he’s kind of a sleazy dude he, as previously mentioned, smuggled me woodscraps to whittle fsdgjkfsgh

but parrow gives good hugs. and henya always has snacks hidden somewhere. and pumm will give you soup on the house sometimes if he can tell you’re in a rough mood. and and and........ i wuv skyloft. this is all kinnie bullshit actually.

talked about him a lil bit in my last ask hehe

fun stories about your loftwing? were there any traits you and him shared notably? or any that were more opposite?

aepon & i were the kind of pair where we seemed really dissimilar on the surface but i think if anyone actually knew us they’d be able to discern pretty quickly that we were 100% twinning. like at face value i was a pretty calm and quiet person who was just, like. spacey and sleepy and vibing while things happened around me, and aepon was this absolute speed demon who had the biggest, loudest presence any time he entered a space. ppl in skyloft called him my red terror.

but the thing about my bird is that he was stubborn to a fault, and recklessly brave, and he just didn’t. stop. and he loved fiercely, the second i was awake in the morning i’d hear him circling overhead and shrieking his happy little shriek, he’d fill my head with all his thoughts of hanging out with me while i was trying to concentrate on work. all those things, we had in common, but i wouldn’t have been able to tell you that. someone like zelda probably would have.

i think the best representation of it is at the beginning of everything when the tornado took zelda, the both of us just. dove right in. nothing else mattered, no conflict existed within either of us, i didn’t have to steer him in or send my intentions into our shared headspace, he just turned into an arrow flying straight into danger, and i went with him and we were one living being. like that’s our core. we are very opposite, until shit gets real, and then we are this beautiful unity tearing through the clouds.

HOW DO I COUNT THE WAYS I LOVE ZELDA AHHHHH

oot!zelda’s determination to defy fate... the way she refuses, from the start, to give in to darkness even though she’s only a little girl. the way she sees my commoner ass just waltz up into her private garden after breaking into her house still dressed in my stupid forest clothes and shes like. oh fuck yeah, wanna help me overthrow the gerudo king? and we’re, can’t stress this enough, ten. she’s so confident like she never worries about being powerless or out of her element, she never for a second believes this isn’t something she can fight. and when everything goes to shit she just keeps fighting!!! and still has the time to remind me that i can keep fighting too!!! literally where did she get that personality i love her so much!!!!

tetra’s fucking... simmering fire. her perfect balance between action and thought. like you can tell she’s pissed off and wants to start throwing punches but she always has the self-control to assess if it’s the thing to do in the moment. I CAN’T DO THAT!!! i’m pissed off i want to swords!!!! that motherfucker over there is PROVOKING ME!!!!! and tetra has the same fire inside her but she’s always just, like, “shut the fuck up, link. put your sword away. we need to get the jump on him.” and im like, AHHHHHHH because she’s always right. literally always. i don’t know how she does this but i think about it constantly. i love her level head and her scheming heart and her choice to carve her own destiny. i like how she finds out she’s a legendary princess from an age long past with sacred blood and shes just like ‘that’s cool but actually i’m tetra and i like to cuss and steal.’ and just does that forever. it resonates with me especially because even though the gods acknowledged me as the hero of winds i, like, wasn’t a ‘true’ incarnation of the hero. it’s just what i decided to be with what i was given. she and i are two sides of that coin and there is something beautiful abt that i don’t have words for. in a lot of ways she was my inspiration.

skyward!zelda’s um. everything? everything. i am so in love with her. i am so in love... with her. i am finding it harder to describe her than everyone else here which is so silly because she’s easily the person i was closest with. she’s just, like, made of fire and love? of passion. everything she is stems from what she loves--she loves old legends, and cliche romance stories, and stargazing, and going on adventures. zelda romanticizes everything in her life, she’ll stop mid-sentence to make you look at the sky because it struck her as particularly beautiful today, meanwhile i’m just like. thats the sky i see it every day i live here. and she’s so brave, so fierce, so resilient--there’s literally nothing that could scare her, i’m certain she got to the surface and immediately started spitting curses at blins, if ghirahim had actually found her alone she would have tried to come at him clawing and spitting. i was always so chill because all my anger was Stored in The Zelda, she’d just fight half my battles for me before i could register they were battles. idk. zelda was such an optimist who took everything in stride and believed, no matter what, that she could make it her own and make it beautiful and find something to adore within it. i might have had a quieter disposition, but she was always better at dealing with change than me. it was calming. i love her so much.

botw!zelda’s passion and inquisitive heart, oh my god, oh my god. i’m going to fucking fight everyone in the kingdom who ever made her feel like she talks too much. god it enthralls me, the way she just talks and talks and talks and LETS ME LISTEN, she lets me just SIT THERE and BASK IN IT like some kind of COLD REPTILE ON A ROCK. i literally cannot comprehend how she can fit so much knowledge about so many different things in her brain, and the way she’s ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT, literally just getting together with her techie friends and building whole ass machines when she was like 6 years old. shes looking at me like ‘oh this child prodigy curse my shortcomings why cant i be pulling enchanted swords when IM 12′ and im like PRINCESS YOU’RE FUCKING COOLER THAN ME LIKE CONGRATS I TOUCH A SWORD SOMETIMES AND YOU COULD LITERALLY MAKE A ROBOT TO DO THAT FOR YOU oh my god the way she doesn’t see how incredible she is makes me go insane i feel insane just thinking about it she’s the coolest fucking person i’ve ever met she’s the coolest person in hyrule the kingdom is too good for her i want her to take apart hyrule castle brick by brick and just leave a note behind that says ‘im too cool for you’ and then she gets on my ancient magic motorcycle and rides off into the sunset to some paradise far away and if i’m LUCKY she takes me with her. i love zelda

#kin ramblings #Anonymous #wendy answers

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buirbaby · 3 years

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The Wardens: A New Wind Blows

Notes: Please note that this fanfic is entirely self-indulgent and warps a bit of the plotting/history. I thought it'd be fun to do a reincarnation insert, but also add rules to it to make it more difficult for the protagonist to be successful in saving canon characters. I've also added lore about the Wardens and griffins, because why not. Might not make sense (though I am trying to be as canonical as I can), but it's fun to write!

Rating: M + Mature themes, language, and violence

Masterlist | First | Next

Cold. Everything was so blasted cold.

Shuddering, Tabitha rolled over and opened her eyes, enough light in front of her for her breath to stream through the air. It had been early summer, why was it cold as balls here? Groaning, she sat up and rubbed the back of her head. Wherever she'd been laid down, it was lumpy, hard, and uncomfortable. Her bare palm scrabbled against stone and confusion ripped through her. Fire. There had been a fire in her home and Balerion had woken her up.

"Balerion?" she called, her hoarse voice echoing through the cave. None of this made sense. One moment she had been passing out from suffocating on smoke and now she was in some icy cave? Maybe this was hell. That's what she got for her years of service, somehow avowing that killing for her country was somehow not murder. God seemed to think not and thus this was his version of purgatory or hell. Who would've thought that hell was frosty? Grumbling, she clambered to her feet and glanced around, uncertain which direction was deeper into the cave and which was out. Either way, she needed to get moving because she was going to freeze her tits off at this rate.

Trailing into the abyss, she continued along the only path set before her, curious if some demon or spectre would greet her in the afterlife. Would they tell her she was an idiot for not taking the offer of money? Or that somehow that condo company had a hand in her death?

There was a light up ahead, brightening the shadows that she was having difficulty glaring through. Did all cats go to heaven and she was damned? At least death hadn't been that painful, just like going to sleep before the tidal waves of fire consumed them. Out of all the things that Tabitha could be thinking, she thought about how crappy it was that this fire had to happen right before the trip of a lifetime she'd been waiting for. Iceland had been the most anticipated trip, even bigger than Denali. So much for celebrating her big 3-0 in the fjords and ice. Now she'd rot in the ground at eternally 29.

The mouth widened in front of her and a chill breeze swept right through her, making her shudder, as she drew her arms closer. Shafts of grey light filtered in through slats in the stone, the cavern dome-shaped and wide open. Dried grass and leaf litter was scattered against the ground, almost in the shape of nests, but they were long abandoned. In front of her, she thought she saw a fleeting bit of moment, a dark shadow slinking along the perimeter of the room, but doubted herself. It wasn't until the pool of darkness flew across, pouncing on her, that her heart leapt up into her throat and her body collided back with the hard stone flooring. Gasping, trying to flounder for air that had been driven from her lungs, she was eye to eye was a behemoth creature.

Brilliant fiery orange eyes blinked at her, set into a raptor's face, only the head of the bird was larger than her own. Obsidian feathers encircled its face, a wickedly sharp beak preening close to her face, a set of long tufted ears twitching. Undoubtedly a demon of hell, Tabitha was convinced, wondering if she'd screwed up her descent into the layers or if she should have tried running. She need only wait for it to disembowl her to begin her eternal torture in this frigid wasteland, but it was acting strangely. Tilting its head to the side before a soft murmur, almost like a huffing trill-similar to that of a cat caught between a purr and meow-blew her hair back. No, she knew those eyes. She hadn't thought of them like fire before, but more like pumpkins.

"Balerion?" she whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would enrage the creature.

The raptor pushed its face into hers, nuzzling the shiny ink black beak into her cheek, before clambering off to allow her to sit up. Tabitha was startled by what she saw, her cat's feline form condensed to only the frame of which he now possessed, his bottle brush tail sweeping behind him, a thick mane of feathers and fur clustered around his neck and throat, akin to a lion. But his front paws were talons, sharper than knives, fashioned for killing. Yet, the griffin's mannerisms bespoke of her soul mate.

"What the fuck is going on?" she managed, pushing herself to her feet to trot toward him, burying her fingers in the warmth of his feathers. Damn, it was cold here and Balerion was radiating heat. "Man, we're definitely not in Kansas anymore, are we bud? You're... huge." Trying to fathom how it was possible her house cat had turned into a griffin, Tabitha continued to puzzle as she kept close to him.

Another trill of agreement before the feline pulled away, ear tufts twitching, before he let out a low growl, beak parting in fury. Suddenly, she was thrust behind him, barely able to glance over the broad set of wings he was unfurling to challenge the person approaching them. However, the initial reaction simmered down, the heat dialed back as a voice spoke in a soothing language that she did not comprehend.

"Please. Warden. Come out," the voice was youthful, childish, but within the timbre of the tone there was a great weight, almost as if there was a deep ancient wisdom contained within. A shiver lanced down her spine as she stepped out, pressing her palm against Balerion's muzz-er-beak to quell him. Despite the young voice, the small being in front of her was not inherently child-looking aside from the short stature. Just as she'd been startled with the griffin, the nut-brown skin dappled with spots like a baby deer caught her off guard. Its ears were also reminiscent of a doe, large and prominent as their slitted eyes.

He wore a cloak of leaves, his dark hair intertwined with vines and lichen.

"What... are you?" Part of her recalled the descriptors deep down, but it seemed too farfetched just along with the rest of this queer world.

"The humans call us the Children of the Forest. We call ourselves those who sing the song of the earth in our True Tongue," he answered cryptically, confirming what her heart had suspected. The revelation stole her breath away, the shock of falling into the depths of a book she'd had on her nightstand the evening of her death bone chilling. "I am called Fang."

"How are we here? This should be impossible," Tabitha muttered, convinced this was a coma dream. Still, it felt so real. Maybe they had survived the fire and her dying brain had concocted this dream state to float in while she healed. Whatever it was, being dropped into the realm of A Song of Ice and Fire without any blood ties to nobility was real shitty.

"I didn't think that another of your kind would awaken. I've stayed here a long time, protecting the Roost . The last of its kind after men hunted the griffins to extinction," Fang explained, gesturing to the nests, in which Tabitha could see were more figures. However, upon scrutiny she realized that they were stone, trapped eternally in their slumber. "But it was told that for every griffin here, there is one Warden, another half to their soul, waiting to rejoin them in this life."

"Excuse me for not being aware of what my sacred, foretold destiny is, but can you enlighten me? What exactly is a warden?"

Fang was more than keen to oblige, the years of solitude in this cold cavern grating on him. "Wardens are keepers of knowledge. Wargs in their own right. Warriors and guides during times of extreme strife."

"Never heard of them," Tabitha remarked, racking her brain for any lore on Wardens, but had never recalled seeing them in the books. Maybe they hadn't been recorded for a reason, a loophole that could change the tide of what had been written, never quite taking on a form themselves since they weren't nobles or remarkable characters aside from trying to subvert plotlines they knew were going to happen. Griffin-wielding-wargs. That's what she was now. "Then... Are we north of the Wall?" Where else would a Child of the Forest be? Unless this was well before when the books she'd known were set, this was the last frontier the Children had left.

"Yes, we are... You are familiar with Westeros' geography?"

"I am," Tabitha admitted grudgingly. "So, Fang, what's the plan? I mount up on Balerion and we fly off to try and change the world?" That was a fanciful way to put it and putting way too much hope in the fact that they wouldn't get shot right out of the sky while flying over the Wall.

"No," Fang shook his head. "You are not ready. You are not equipped for the journey. And unless you'd like to perish before your quest has even begun, you'd be wise not to just show up at any doorstep and hope for safe harbor, especially as a woman."

So Fang wasn't stupid. Tabitha's lips quirked up. "Then what do we do?"

This question would soon be answered, as Fang led them out of the cumbersome room that had wind ripping through it with icy, gnashing teeth. The cave went deeper, illuminated by strange blue lights contained within gnarled tree branches, more for her than it was for Fang, so that she might see where she placed her foot as they descended. Still, she wondered how any of this was real. How such a thing existed. Quietly, she amassed a collection of questions to ask Fang once they arrived at their destination.

The caverns grew warmer, the heat of a primordial hearth burning deep within the heart of the mountain. It took Tabitha a moment, staring at the grooves of the stone, the purposeful counter set in front of it, to realize that this was a forge. Fang paused, cocking his head and tilting his feline eyes back up toward her.

"This forge only lights when a Warden has awoken," he told her.

"When's the last time you saw it lit?" she asked.

"I have never, but before me, the time of dragons and conquerers came with the forge was bright and hot," Fang replied, skirting the room to place small hands on slate slabs that had been hewn into the wall, similar to a tomb.

"Lot a good a griffin must have been against dragons," Tabitha spoke her thought aloud, wondering how that would have sufficed. Balerion was large, perhaps even big enough to ride, but in comparison to the real Balerion? He was a pup, a mite without scales to protect him. Depending on when they were, dragons might fly again and be creatures that she'd have to be wary of. The thought of the flying reptilians made her shudder, Balerion pushing his head into her side as he noticed that she was disturbed.

"Griffins are fast," Fang countered, pushing the stone slab with a shocking amount of strength. "Faster than dragons perhaps. But they're not here to serve the same purpose. Balerion is here as a partner and an escort, not to raze cities or conquer empires."

"Good, I don't think that was on my bucket list," Tabitha quipped. "What year is it? Do you know?"

"If I've been keeping good enough record, 294 AC," the stone had been removed entirely and in its place was the hollowed out tomb filled with items.

294? That was a few years before the events of the first book. While she might not have been ready to embark on any crusade to change the ill fate of many characters, she realized now that she had time to figure out what the hell she was doing. "Well that's a relief. Would've sucked to show up after-" but the words didn't form, her tongue twisting in her mouth and becoming slow and dumb. She tried again, trying to explain the situation that would play out in a few years time, only to find that she could not speak it aloud at all.

Fang turned, his lips curving up in a smile. "Ah, so it is true," he commented, looking more his age than childish as he crossed his arms. "Legend says that for all the knowledge the Wardens might have, they cannot speak it to another."

Tabitha wanted to dash her brains against the stone. She knew all of this shit and she couldn't tell anyone? Couldn't write it down? Now this threw a bigger wrench in her plans. For if she came to a situation where she could save someone by simply saying 'hey look out for the Freys', she could not. "How am I supposed to do anything?" she hissed irritably.

"You'll know. Just as the forge beats with the life in your heart, you will know when it is time to make yourself known and to help change the tides of fate. Actions speak louder than words," Fang retorted, pulling out a thick, padded doublet that was within the stone storage. "Here, these should fit you. It is cold outside the forge and eventually, you will have to brave it."

Accepting the attire that had been stolen away for centuries, Tabitha was more than eager to put it on in place of her own thin clothing. Things could not be simple. She could not have the power over death in words, she would have to be clever, strong, resilient and work her way into politics without the cushion of a title or lands. Christ, that was going to be hard and even having Balerion beside her seemed more like a burden than a saving grace. No, she was thankful he was there, her dark star amidst the turmoil and confusion that was the world she'd suddenly been thrust into, but she felt daunted.

While Fang continued to rummage through the ancient artifacts of Wardens passed, she sat on a bench made of rock, hewn into the wall, and stared into the dancing flames of the hearth. Fire had taken her from her past life and now a new fire was ignited. Her fingertips swirled along her open palm, feeling the strange new mark that had found its way there, that hadn't been there. A swirl shaped like a griffin's head, rough around the edges, and akin to a burn--as if it had been branded into her skin. It did not hurt, but she wondered if this was her boon as a Warden.

To save Westeros. Obviously, the Night King would be the largest priority. Given that she was north of the Wall, she had to assume that her 'in' would be with the wildlings or the Night's Watch. Again, her head throbbed in worry, wondering how she'd manage to convince others that she was worthy of their time and not just a good lay, rape, or twat. She could not speak of what she knew, so she had to count on her actions and the cleverness of her tongue to aid those that she knew Westeros would be better with. Could she make it to Winterfell before Ned Stark left for King's Landing? Could she stop Bran from falling from the broken tower? Did she want to stop him? So many questions that had no answers and yet the fire danced madly in front of her, beckoning with flaming fingers, whispering into her ears.

"We shall guide you."

Through fire there had been rebirth. Not in the same manner as Dondarrian when he had a priest bless and revive him, but in another ancient method. Between worlds and veils. The fire had claimed the Warden and then spat her out into the arctic mountain that would suffice to become her home for the next few years as she gained her feet. A modern woman in a dark, twisted medieval fantasy. Not once had Tabitha yearned to be tossed amongst the pages she read with delight, because she knew that life was fickle, dangerous, and uncertain. No one was favored, even the main characters could die.

"Here," Fang interrupted her train of thoughts, breaking her line of sight with the fire that she had fallen into a trans with. He held up a scabbard before her, the sheathe a dark midnight blue, enameled with white gold detailing. Not too much, simple and clean, just enough that it wasn't utterly nondescript. The weight felt heavy on her lap, her fingers turning around the straps of the belt before she gripped the handle and pulled part of the blade out.

For a sword that had been collecting dust for more than a hundred years, it was honed and sharp. No, that was not right. There was a reason for that. Tabitha pulled it out entirely, the rippling waves in the folded steel catching the light of the fire and throwing refractions around the space like a mirror held to the sun. This was Valyrian steel, with no need to be taken to a whetstone.

"Fuck, I don't know how to use a sword."

#game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfic #reincarnation insert #freeform #added lore #the ability to change the future but with a twist #romance is not the main theme #BAMF female OC #buirbaby writes #The Wardens

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earsofducks · 4 years

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Day 8 - Soulmates

Well, this is it.

Wow.

Thank you to @ineffablehusbandsweek for a fantastic week of prompts, and for setting this all up and reblogging and stuff. Amazing.

Thanks also to everybody that read my stuff. It brought me a lot of joy to know that some people actually ENJOYED some of the things I wrote. Y’all are fantastic.

Also thanks to Gaiman and Pratchett and Tennant and Sheen for a fracking amazing OTP. Gawsh. They’re so good.

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Thanks for everything.

Crowley took a long time to realize Aziraphale was his soulmate.

It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d met him. Crowley hadn’t heard any of the lore at that point, probably because he hadn’t spent any more time than was necessary in Hell. All he knew was that the angel had beautiful eyes and lovely wings and a heart that prioritized a pregnant couple’s wellbeing over his own.

And that was more than enough.

It wasn’t even when he first heard the chatter about soulmates.

He’d gotten himself discorporated. Hung around Sodom just a little too long. (He’d been so sure he could convince - well, it doesn’t matter now.) And while he was waiting for his new body, he’d had nothing better to do than hang around and listen to the other lowlifes discussing the latest news, which was that apparently every demon had an angelic counterpart that was their soulmate. (When Crowley asked why the Almighty would give demons angelic soulmates when they could never really be together, the consensus was that it was all a big joke. That was when Crowley first started feeling bitter at Her for creating soulmates.) Also, continued his hellish colleagues, when demons were in close physical proximity to their soulmate their black-and-white vision would burst into colour, but the angel would remain unaffected.

And Crowley, being an idiot, thought huh, weird, instead of when I was around Aziraphale I noticed his eyes were blue.

No, Crowley didn’t put two and two together for a very long time. This was mostly because somewhere between being told about soulmates and being given his new body he’d managed to convince himself that it was all a big misunderstanding. Soulmates weren’t real. How silly! No, they were probably invented by some poor sod who was missing being an angel and thought to comfort himself with a daydream. (Crowley had not yet realized that ‘imagination’ was not very popular in Hell.) And then, shortly after Golgotha, he and Aziraphale were drinking in a tavern somewhere and he absentmindedly remarked on the bright red of a piece of pottery and then it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Oh no, he thought.

He spent a while trying to avoid Aziraphale and the many difficult feelings that arose when he was around Aziraphale, because it was all so much to handle. But the longer he spent away from his angel the more miserable he felt and the more bleary and unbearable his black-and-white existence became and when Aziraphale turned up in a bar in Rome he found himself unable to say no to oysters.

After that, Crowley accepted his fate. He was in love with Aziraphale. Aziraphale was his soulmate. He would never be able to tell Aziraphale about either of these things, because Aziraphale was an angel and he was a demon and angels and demons weren’t allowed to… well. Do the things Crowley would like to do.

And life goes on like this, with Crowley loving Aziraphale as quietly as he can and having his heart broken every few years and screaming drunkenly at God about how the soulmate joke isn’t funny, until the Apocalypse. Which doesn’t actually happen.

After he and Aziraphale go to the Ritz, they retire to the bookshop for a good old-fashioned nightcap. They drink and drink and drink until they’re both thoroughly smashed, and that is when it happens.

“Why’s your corporation so faulty?” Aziraphale asks, apropos of nothing.

“Wha?” Crowley asks, understandably confused.

“The - the - the - ” Aziraphale waves his wine glass around and makes a variety of expressions while he wracks his brain for the right words - “The colours.”

“What about the colours?” asks Crowley, whose stomach has gone very cold. He feels very sober very suddenly.

“They’re….” Aziraphale squints as he thinks very hard. “They don’t happen.”

“Oh,” says Crowley, relieved. “Nah, can’t see colours. Lost that when I - you know.”

“I’m terribly sorry, dear boy,” says Aziraphale, looking less drunk. Crowley looks at the wine bottles, which are less empty than they were a moment ago. Looks like they both accidentally sobered up a little.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Crowley, trying to shrug and discreetly sober the rest of the way up at the same time.

“But not all the time,” says Aziraphale, pointing a finger at Crowley.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“Uh,” says Crowley.

“When your corporation was near my corporation,” continues Aziraphale, oblivious to the panic which is rapidly taking over Crowley’s brain, “colours happened.”

“Ah,” says Crowley. “Mm,” says Crowley. “Ngk,” says Crowley.

“Why?” asks Aziraphale again.

Crowley hems and haws and hedges until Aziraphale starts to get annoyed and says, “really, my dear, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss. It’s not as if you could say anything that would make me like you any less. I wish you’d just tell me.”

Undone by the ‘my dear’ and the ‘nothing would make me like you any less,’ Crowley does.

Aziraphale sits very still. Crowley sits still, too, tense and nervous and full of regrets. What a pathetic excuse of a demon he is. In love with an angel. Unable to let go of said angel, even when he knew it wouldn’t work out, wouldn’t lead to anything but pain for him and awkwardness of Aziraphale. Refusing to let go of -

“Soulmates?” says Aziraphale, very softly, and there’s something in his voice that makes Crowley’s foolish heart leap.

“Er, yeah. ‘S - dunno what She was thinking. That it was good for a laugh, probably. Watching me - uh, I mean us - I mean, demons, you know - when we couldn’t have what we - uh - dunno. Weird. Silly. ‘S silly, isn’t it? Sorry.”

“No,” breathes Aziraphale, and Crowley’s heart climbs higher. Stupid organ oughta know that the higher you are the more the fall hurts. “No, my dear, my very dear, my most beloved - oh, no. Not silly.”

Crowley’s brain cannot be expected to handle both very dear and most beloved at the same time.

“Yungrhwha?”

“Crowley,” says Aziraphale, and he’s beaming, he’s shining, he’s radiating… something, something that Crowley is scared to think about, scared to hope for - “Crowley, you’ve waited so long for me.”

Crowley doesn’t say anything. He’s blushing and painfully aware of how pitiful he is and unable to meet Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Crowley, my darling,” says Aziraphale, and Crowley can’t breathe, “I love you.”

Crowley lets out a sob at that, a harsh, punched-out sound. He didn’t mean to. It just happened.

“Beloved,” says Aziraphale tenderly, and reaches out and pulls Crowley into a soft, tight, warm embrace. Crowley cries harder and grasps at the fabric of Aziraphale’s jacket. “I love you,” Aziraphale says again, and Crowley doesn’t know how to do this. “I love you more than I will ever be able to say. I’ve loved you for millenia. I never knew - ” Aziraphale’s voice trembles. “Soulmates,” he says at length, full of awe. “We’re soulmates, Crowley. We were - darling, we were made for each other. She made us for each other. I’m yours, lover of mine. I always have been. I always will be.”

“‘Ziraphale,” gasps Crowley, overcome. He’s reasonably sure that demons were not meant to hold this much happiness. “Angel - angel - ”

“Shh,” croons Aziraphale, clutching him impossibly tighter and rocking back and forth. “I know, my heart. I know. You gorgeous, brilliant, impossibly sweet thing. You’ve been telling me as long as we’ve known each other. I know.”

It takes Crowley a long time to calm down, to start breathing normally again, to stop hanging onto Aziraphale like the angel will float away if he so much as loosens his grip. Aziraphale murmurs comforting, devastatingly lovely things the whole time.

“Love you,” says Crowley, as soon as he’s found his voice again. It’s croaky and hoarse. He doesn’t care. “Love you. Love you, love you, love you.”

“Crowley,” says Aziraphale, sounding like he might cry, “I love you, too.”

And they sit there, holding each other, for most of the night. Crowley’s breathing evens out completely. He gets a crick in his neck but doesn’t budge an inch, unwilling to risk anything when he’s just gotten everything he’s ever wanted. “Soulmates,” Aziraphale says wonderingly, every so often.

Crowley falls asleep thinking that he’s not mad at the Almighty for making soulmates. Not anymore.

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vintagevalentinex · 4 years

Text

Valentine

I had this idea for a Castiel/Reader story in my head, and I’ll probably reblog it on Valentine’s Day, but I couldn’t help but post it now. Special shout out to @icecream-and-winchesters for letting me pick her brain! This is the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff.

@icecream-and-winchesters @crazykins123 @theerinpage @bovaria @abaddonwithyall @ohfora67impala @bkwrm523 @maraisabellegrey @kittenofdoomage @spnfanficpond @aprofoundbondwithdean @castielspahdehrah @stephizzle94

Title: Valentine Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~2800 Pairing: (Castiel x Reader) Warnings: Major FLUFF.

It was that time of year again.

Being a hunter always made relationships particularly difficult. The thought of being single and alone was just another part of “the job.” The hunter life wasn’t typically one you shared with another person and you were quite content with that. You had made your peace with it a long time ago.

That is, until those tall buffoons stumbled into your life.

You could remember it clearly. It was a couple of years ago and you were trying to hustle your way through a couple games of pool to get some quick cash. You saw them as they entered the bar. They were tall and built strong. They looked so sure of themselves as they walked over to the bar, ordering as they scanned the room. You smiled to yourself, thinking they would make two easy marks for some quick cash, with the added bonus of them being easy on the eyes.

After two games of pool (one won by you, the other won by the one with the green eyes), you were starting to realize that maybe these boys were better than you had pegged them to be. I will not be out hustled. You flashed them a smile, leaning over the pool table, your grin growing wider when you noticed the one with the green eyes couldn’t stop looking at your cleavage.

“So what are your names anyway? It would be nice to know the names of the guys whose money I’m going to win…”

The man with the green eyes and the other one who was ridiculously tall shared a look, turning their gaze back to you, smirking. The taller man spoke first.

“Winchester. I’m Sam, he’s Dean.” He jerked his head toward his brother.

You gasped in recognition, throwing your pool stick onto the table. Rolling your eyes you spoke. “Hunters. Damn it, I should have known. I guess we should just call it even then?”

They broke out into laughter and offered you a drink.

You quickly learned how amazing the Winchesters were, however, for you at least, they paled in comparison to the angel of the Lord with the blue eyes. You had tagged along on a simple salt and burn with the brothers (you quickly learned that nothing was simple when it came to the both of them). It had turned out to be a full on demon swarm that was nearly overpowering the three of you. You had been knocked onto your ass, flinching for the impact of a blow when you saw an almost blinding light, having to shield your eyes from the intensity. When you were finally able to open your eyes, you were met with her most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen.

The moment was ruined when you could hear Sam and Dean screaming for you, breathing a sigh of relief when their gaze fell upon the blue-eyed stranger.

“Cas! It’s about damn time you got here! (Y/N) looks like hell! Fix her up, would ya?” Dean grumbled.

Cas. Cas is his name? How did he get here? How did he know to get here?

You looked up at “Cas,” his lips quirking into a ghost of a smile as he knelt down to be eye level with you.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“……umm, hi….”

“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord. You can call me ‘Cas.’ That is the name that Sam and Dean have chosen to call me…”

“…ummm okay.” You cough, your hand covering your mouth. As you move your hand away from your mouth, you can see that you’ve coughed up some blood. You let out a bitter snigger. “I guess that demon got me better than I thought…”

You made to move up when Cas put a hand on your shoulder, keeping you still. With his other hand he pressed two fingers to your forehead, all of the pain and the aches soothed away with a single touch. You felt nothing but warmth as your eyes found the blue ones again, feeling the heat coming to your cheeks as Cas helped you to your feet.

“Thank you, Castiel.”

“It is no trouble, (Y/N).”

“Alright lovebirds, stop making goo goo eyes at each other. Can we go now?”

Dean continued to groan as you felt your cheeks heat up even more, red from your ears to your neck as you stormed out of the abandoned warehouse, shoving past Sam and Dean, who wore matching smirks. Cas looked on, concerned and curious.

“Dean, is she well? Does she perhaps have a fever?”

“Nah, man. She’s got somethin’ else pretty bad though…” Dean laughed, sharing a knowing look with Sam.

“Should I follow after her? Perhaps I didn’t heal her completely.”

“It’s something you can’t heal, buddy.”

As you stomped towards the Impala, you couldn’t get those words out of your mind. It was no trouble. You smiled a little to yourself as you slid into the backseat of the car. You didn’t know it at the time, but those four words would become the most beautiful arrangement of letters you’d ever heard.

Cas became more and more of a facet in your life, always seemingly being there whenever you needed help or company. His visits with the Winchesters became more frequent and seemingly unnecessary. Dean was starting to get really confused.

Cas why are you here? I thought you called for me. No, man…

Cas…didn’t you just leave like 15 minutes ago? I thought you could use some assistance. With eating? Yes.

Cas…seriously… I am sorry, Dean…I thought that I heard you faintly praying to me… While I’m sitting on the god damn toilet? In retrospect, that seems to have been a mistake…

Dean shuffled into the library in one of the dead man’s robes, finally drinking coffee. That was definitely not the way he wanted to be woken up on a Monday morning. Or at all for that matter. Cas was getting weirder and weirder and damn it if he wasn’t going to find out why. He rolled his eyes as he saw Cas sitting in the library with Sam, trying to figure something out in the lore.

“Damn it Cas, what has been your problem lately? You seem real squirrely…”

“I do not know what you are talking about, Dean…and I also do not understand how I could ever resemble a rodent such as a squirrel…”

Dean rolled his eyes, taking another needed swig of coffee. It was going to be a long day. “Cas…I’m not even going to start with why that makes no sense but—“

“Morning guys!” You called out. You felt quite chipper this morning. You were getting some of the best sleep you’ve ever had in probably…ever. You scanned the room, seeing Sam hard at work already, Dean grumping about like he usually did in the morning, and…oh.

“Good morning Cas!”

“Good morning, (Y/N). I take it you slept well…”

Dean snaps his head to look at the exchange between the both of you with a smug, shit-eating grin on his face. I get it now…

Loud yelling brings you out of your daydreaming. You weren’t really excited for today. You were hoping that the day would go quickly, and that you wouldn’t see any lovey dovey couples, but you knew that your thoughts were futile.

It was Valentine’s Day.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother you at all, but since the appearance of the blue eyed angel, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts constantly drift to him. From the moment you met him you knew that he was righteous and brave, but over the weeks and months you began to realize how so inherently good he was. He was a loyal friend, almost to a fault, and would do anything to make sure the ones he cared about were safe. And at times that included you. He had saved you a few times over the months and you were infinitely thankful for him in your life. When Sam and Dean told you more about how Cas basically sacrificed everything he ever knew and cared about in heaven to protect the people on Earth, it blew you away; his selflessness continuing to amaze you. He was a good man…er…angel…and you hoped someday that you could have someone in your life that could be even a fraction as good as he was.

You sighed heavily, dragging the Chinese food you picked up while the boys continued their research in the motel room you were sharing for the job you were on. You quirked an eyebrow as you listened in on the yelling that was occurring on the other side of the door.

“Cas…what the hell is in the cooler?!”

"Well Dean, you told me to give (Y/N) a heart for Valentine’s Day…”

You nearly gapsed. Cas wanted to give you something for Valentine’s Day? Maybe he didn’t know what it meant to be someone’s Valentine…

“Cas I swear if there is an actual heart in there…”

“You don’t need to swear; there is a heart in the cooler…I wasn’t sure what kind of heart to get…you didn’t say. I thought it would be most appropriate to get a human heart because well…(Y/N)’s a human…”

You face palmed, holding back a torrent of giggles and you could nearly feel Dean getting more and more frustrated.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Where did you get a freaking human heart, Cas?! Are you kidding right now!?”

“I thought it was customary—“

“Oh just wait ‘till Sam gets back. This is great. Just great, man.”

“Dean, I—“

“Man…seriously…get rid of it. She’s not gonna want it.”

“Are you positive?”

“Am I—just GET RID OF IT CAS!”

You figured this was probably a good time to announce your presence. You called through the door. “Hey guys! Mind helping me open the door? My arms are full!”

You heard the flutter of wings and a rush of air as you turned around, Cas standing way too close as your cheeks heated up. He smiled sheepishly at you as he helped unburden your arms, the door swinging open to reveal a smug looking Dean.

“You know, Cas…the door works just as fine…”

“Yes…yes Dean. I will make sure to remember that next time…”

You smiled at him as you all piled back into the motel room. You ate in an awkward silence, Cas watching both you and Dean eat your food. The tension in the room was thick. Dean finally stood up, grunting and rolling his eyes at the entire situation.

“Alright…well since this is such a happening place, I’m going to the bar…there’s probably some woman out there who’s lonely today…”

You scoffed. “Real nice, Winchester…trying to hook up with lonely woman on Valentine’s Day.”

“Hey…at least I’ll be getting some…unlike you!”

Cas interjected. “Dean, what do you mean, ‘getting some’? What are you getting some of?”

Dean shook his head, laughing as he ducked out the door. “Why don’t you fill him in, (Y/N)?”

The both of you sat there in silence for a few brief moments. You shift, Cas’s attention on you now at the sudden noise.

“Do you mind if I hop in the shower? It’s been a long day…you don’t have to leave or anything…I’ll just be in the bathroom…”

“Go right ahead, (Y/N)…though I do not understand why you wouldn’t just walk into the shower…but by all means hop right into it!” He smiled, trying to ease the tension and awkwardness in the room. You smiled and shook your head at him. Bless him, he is trying.

“Alright then, I shouldn’t be too long!”

“It is no trouble, (Y/N).”

You grinned, loving when he uttered those words to you as you headed for the bathroom, letting the steam and the hot water soothe your sore muscles.

You stepped out of the shower, feeling new, as you threw your clothes back on. You stepped back into the main room.

“Hey Cas, I was—“

But he was gone.

You shrugged, getting ready to break out the beer and turn on Netflix for the night when you noticed that you had a voicemail notification on your phone. You put your phone to your ear, knowing it could be important, and listen to the message.

“Yes…yes I know this is (Y/N)’s phone, that is why I called it. Yes, I would like to leave a message. Why are you still talking to me? This is not your phone! (Y/N)!? (Y/N)?! If you are there please listen to me! Go to the place where you bought the Chinese food. It is of great importance.”

And with that the message ended. Alarmed that something was wrong you swiped Dean’s keys, thankful that he was walking to the bar that night and sped down the road, breaking all kinds of motor vehicle laws as you raced back to the restaurant, ready to gank any creature that stood in your way. When you finally parked the car, gun in hand, and ready to go, you noticed something flashy in the alleyway. You stalked quietly and swiftly, ready to strike when you noticed a simple red dress hanging on a hanger on a fire escape. It had a note pinned to it.

I apologize for making you think the worst, (Y/N), but I fear that this was the only way to get you here. Please put this on, I’m nearly positive that it will fit, and I’m absolutely certain that it will look beautiful on you. Please go to local record store and pick out the album that you told me reminded you of me.

You smiled, shaking your head. You wanted to be mad, but this was way too sweet. A scavenger hunt? What was Cas up to? Your shrugged into the dress (that did fit perfectly…you weren’t sure to be impressed or creeped out), still clad in your converse as you walked into the record store, remembering how you were telling Cas about the song that made you think of him. Well, it has wings in it and well, you’re an angel so…

Chewing on your lip you entered the record store, searching up and down the aisles until you finally find what you’re looking for. You pull the record up from its place and see a note taped to it.

I’m glad you found this. I was so very touched when you played this song for me. To know that you think of me when I am not near makes me feel things that I have never felt, (Y/N). It makes me feel things that I didn’t know that I was even capable of feeling, things that I cannot put into words. Look under the shelf, and put those on. Go back to the motel room.

Your face flushes as you read the note, ducking down to find a box of beautiful shoes. You slip them on as you drive back over to the motel, your heart racing as you make yourself get out of the car. As you walk to the door, your hand shakily makes its way to the knob, hearing the faint sound of music on the other side. Twisting the knob and pushing the door open, you are greeted by a trenchcoat-less Castiel, still dressed in his suit. He stands in the middle of the room nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, twirling a single sunflower between his fingers.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, (Y/N).”

You blushed as bright as your dress, gently closing the door behind you. You nervously walked closer to him as he offered you the flower. You smiled down at it.

“Thank you Cas, I love sunflowers.”

“They remind me of you. They are warm and bright. They remind me of sunshine. They remind me of your smile. Though a flower cannot really do you any justice.”

Stepping closer to him, you bashfully looked away.

“I wish I had something to give you, Cas.”

He stepped forward, pulling you in close to himself as he swayed your bodies to the faint music in the background.

“This is all I could ever ask for, (Y/N). I am not exactly 100% sure on this human custom, but I do believe I must ask you a question.”

“Sure thing, Cas. What is it?”

He smiled down at you. “Will you be my Valentine?”

You grinned, nearly giggling, feeling like a schoolgirl as he continued to sway the both of you to the music.

“It is no trouble, Castiel.”

He shared your grin, dancing with you until the wee hours of the morning, the both of you peppering each other’s faces with sweet, tender kisses.

#spn #castiel #cas #castiel x reader #castiel/reader #repost #new blog

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

A Brainful Process || Morgan &Rio

@3starsquinn

Cemetery field trip!

(Contains: zombie and animal gore)

Cemeteries were safer to visit in Morgan’s idle house than the woods. In cemeteries, most of the company was resting six feet under, and those that weren’t had a tendency to wave at Morgan as she walked by, content to leave her alone, one still soul to another. Some even warned her when it was better to turn back home. There’s a girl with the stake that comes by around now, a ghost might say. Or, we don’t like you that much. Cemeteries were safer, yes, and yet somehow tonight Morgan still found herself tackled to the ground, wrestling with a one legged zombie who, for all her wild hunger, really knew how to use her strength to her advantage. “Uh--a little help, maybe?” She called, appealing to one of the spirits nearby. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” the old man said, and drifted off to watch her struggle somewhere else. “Okay, okay, ok--ow!” The zombie woman bit into her shoulder, moaning with hunger. Morgan kicked, trying to knock her off balance enough to shift the weight between them like Mina had taught her, but it was a lot harder when the opponent didn’t have much of a mind for sensing pain. Morgan set her jaw and lashed out to struggle with the zombie woman again. “We got this,” she grunted. “You’re gonna be fine, you just gotta stop trying to eat me!”

Cemeteries had scared Orion far before he knew ghosts and spirits existed. He supposed he always knew they were real. Growing up learning about werewolves and Fae made pretty much anything believable. If his parents had bothered telling him about Santa, Rio might still think he was real. But he had always thought of ghosts in the more creepypasta YouTube sense. That they haunted others. They were crazy stories that made things colder and flipped on lights. Not the kind that possessed other humans and drained their life force. But ever since Rio had learned about the Dybbuks and other evil spirits, Rio hadn’t been able to get them off his mind. Rio began pulling books about ghosts and spirits. The more he read, the more intrigued he became with some of the accounts of sightings. Winston and Ricky must have really gotten to Rio. Without even realizing it, on his way home that night he was taking a detour and heading towards the cemetery. For no other reason than pure stupidity, if Rio had to guess. Once he was within range however, he started hearing voices. The hairs on his arms stood straight up and he immediately began shaking. At least, until he realized that the voices weren’t ghosts or spirits but a person. A person that sounded like they were in danger. Rio picked up his pace, beginning to job before breaking into a sprint towards the cemetery, stopping only when he finally spotted the source of the voice, a woman being attacked by another. “Hey!” Rio yelled, trying to sound more dangerous than he actually was, “Let her go!” Rio began moving towards the two slowly, freezing when he finally realized who the victim of the evening was, “Professor?”

The sound of another voice made Morgan’s dead body go stiff. Fuck. The last thing she needed was human company, or some hunter about to stumble upon a two-for-one deal. “W-we’re fine!” She grunted, finally grappling the zombie woman to the ground and pinning her down. “She’s--she’s just---uh--” Morgan struggled for a good lie. The woman was in literal pieces, her skin sagging off her bones and pockets of bare muscle spreading bursts of dark, grotesque color. And the person was coming closer. “Having an attack! Nothing to see here--Rio?”

Morgan saw him through the edge of her vision and didn’t know whether to be relieved or agitated. She hadn’t told Rio the ‘sudden loss in her family’ that explained away two weeks worth of missed classes had been her own. She hadn’t told any of her students. Funny enough, that still wasn’t a conversation she felt like having. But there wasn’t going to be any fooling him. He was too much of a supernatural scholar to not see the obvious, at least when it came to the woman thrashing and groaning under her. “Hey!” She said brightly, panic tight in her smile. “How weird and amazing to run into you here! I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine right now, completely. But you should really stay back and um, maybe grab some rope? And some fresh brains?” She was convinced, maybe falsely, that she had enough confidence to sell everything she was saying without the need for questions. Then the zombie woman rocked against her weight and threw her off, driven by the pull of fresh meat.

For a long moment, Orion just stood from a distance and stared at Morgan and the woman clawing at her. This didn’t make any sense. Why was Morgan being so casual right now? Was this some sort of fever dream brought on by the lack of sleep? “Uh” Rio hummed, drawing it out for far longer than any of them needed. “Both fine. Right.” He realized, maybe many beats too late, that he had still not moved from his spot. Until now, he had stared at the sight as if it was a horror scene in a movie. “Brains?” Rio asked, touching at his head instinctively before realizing that Morgan probably had a rope and brains here. Because this was a zombie. A zombie. A ZOMBIE? It took this long for the fear to finally rush into Rio’s body and he immediately started fidgeting, the usual skin crawling feeling worming its way through his body. “Oh my god. A zombie! I’ve never met a zombie! I’m going to do something now.” Rio spoke aloud, as if that was going to finally motivate his body to follow the commands. Apparently it worked, his feet finally inching across the grass and towards the two. “What do you want me to do with these things once I have them?”

Morgan’s thin smile fractured with dismay. As much as she was relieved Rio wasn’t some guns a blazing hunter trying to get more goo for their collection. But she didn’t know if this was really the time for scholarly curiosity either. Maybe more like run and take action time. Move faster NOW time. Morgan dove for the zombie again, tackling her to the ground and pressing down with all her weight. She looked up at Rio, pleading for his help. She could keep the zombie pinned down for now, but she wouldn’t be able to help the dead woman with just her hands alone. And, shit--of course Rio wouldn’t have anything on him. He wasn’t Kaden, for crying out loud. Morgan looked around them, mind racing to keep up, to stay ahead of any panic. Maybe this was the time for scholarly curiosity. “The plan!” She said, forcing as much confidence into her bright voice as possible. “The plan is you...find something that will do instead of rope. Um...your belt! And uuh…” She looked around her with dismay. “My belt!” It was a lot daintier, meant for her small waist as decoration rather than supporting any weight. “And we are going to bind the zombie as tightly as we can. Because, fun fact: zombies have a much higher pain threshold than humans! Whatever would hurt for you won’t hurt for them, so that’s not something to worry about when they’re...like this.” She swallowed thickly and forced another smile as the zombie rocked and struggled under her. “When her limbes are secure, we’ll get her some of the food from my bag--” what was supposed to have been her lunch, “--and give her some of that. And then...more, probaby. From...somewhere else. I’m not...actually sure from where yet, but--fun zombie fact 2: decomposition and ‘rabid’ behavior is a symptom of starvation and not, necessarily, the zombie’s natural state! With sustainable access to food, your average zombie isn’t much different than a human, by outward appearances anyway.” Now if they could work on this together without Rio wondering too hard about how she knew all this, it might actually be easy. Or at least, not hard.

Okay, obviously it was clear that Morgan was preoccupied right now. Trying to hold back the woman- er uh the zombie from munching on either of them. Ignoring the swelling excitement as well as the far more palpable fear that was building inside of him, Orion tried to put aside any jitters and listen to Morgan’s instructions. He was lucky he had worn jeans today instead of the usual joggers or track pants, and that he was embarrassingly skinny for his age and height, so any pair of jeans that he wore usually required a belt. He pulled the belt free, hooking his pinky around a belt loop to avoid his jeans dropping. God, that would be embarrassing. “Okay uh- my belt is good. And your belt is uh- still attached to you.” Rio called, still standing a few feet back. He was not incredibly comfortable with the idea of undoing his teacher’s belt, but he supposed there were… strange circumstances.

“This is great!” Rio tried remaining positive, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Although Rio greatly appreciated the information on Zombies, a species he had not done much study on. He was familiar with a couple of culture’s depiction of zombies in their own lore, but from what Morgan was describing, they differed quite a bit. “I am very happy to help and I am totally going to keep my cool during this time.” Rio said aloud, probably trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Morgan. He slowly inched towards them, holding his arms out with his belt gripped tightly in both hands. “Do uh- you want me to do this? Or you? Is the whole thing about a zombie bite still true?”

Jeepers, this was going to be tricky. The zombie woman was beginning to thrash, dragging her and Morgan across the ground inch by inch. The closer Rio got, the more she wriggled her head, gnashing her rotting teeth. Morgan shifted position, pressing her knee down into the woman’s back. This was really not very seemly, but she couldn’t think of another way that would keep the zombie from hurting anyone long enough to feed properly. “We got this, we got this,” she murmured, still racing for ideas. “We got this!” She declared. “You are doing a great job, Rio! Just grab her legs and I’ll get the arms, and we’ll bind them up together. No worries!” She grabbed one of the zombie’s arms, then the other, wrestling against the woman’s frustration. “But, uh, yeah, about the bite. Fun fact, that’s--fuck!” The zombie woman’s teeth bit into her hand, grazing the cuff she used to hide her real scar. Morgan finished wrangling the arms with a grimace and whipped off her belt to fasten her arms together so the wrists would come more easily. “The bite thing is real,” she said, looking down at the wound in her hand. “But don’t freak out, Rio, okay? It doesn’t matter if she bites me, it’s you I’m worried about. Uh, get her wrists and ankles together?”

Orion could do this. He could totally do this. He did not love the idea of grabbing onto this woman, zombie or no. But Morgan seemed convinced that she would not feel the pain and that they were not going to harm her. That was what Rio wanted right? What was some tying and gagging if it meant helping her and others not get hurt? That was totally something that Rio could get behind. Grabbing onto her legs was surprisingly easy. Hunter strength and all made wrangling the woman’s legs surprisingly easy. At least, until the zombie bit Morgan. Rio dropped the legs immediately and began screaming his head off. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what was happening. Would Morgan turn into a zombie? How fast was the process? Was there something he could do to stop it? Rio had seen some zombie shows. How they amputated the body part that had been bitten to stop the spread. Even the idea made Rio light headed. He definitely couldn’t do that. Finally, Rio contained himself again, grappling the legs again and holding them. What the heck did Morgan mean that she wasn’t worried about herself? Was she immune to the bite somehow? “I- I don’t- uhhhhh” Rio’s brain broke for a moment, but he forced himself out of the slump. Grabbing onto the woman’s wrists and easily pulling them back to meet the ankles and wrapping his belt around them. “Oh god- Oh god. I hate this. I’m really bad at this. I think I’m going to puke. Are you okay???”

“Rio! You cannot puke on this woman!” Morgan shrieked. Oh dear. This wasn’t calm. This was the opposite of calm. Could she breathe? Was that ever going to work again? She missed the time when all she had to do was tell herself to breathe and her body would start to right itself back into something right and normal. But the quiet was too great and there was too much happening at once. “I’m fine! I’m not even bleeding!” Mostly because she didn’t have any circulation. “Just--just hold her steady and don’t turn into a zombie!” She scrambled over to her bag and prised open a tupperware full of brains, a blend, as it happened, but even a smidgen of person in there probably wasn’t going to get this woman back to normal. They’d have to take her somewhere better, or get better to her. Morgan stuck the tupperware under the woman’s nose and watched, grimacing, as she moaned and wrangled herself closer to fit as much of it in her mouth as possible. Morgan sat back and deflated. That would keep her busy for, what, five minutes? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am fine though. I’m…” Morgan shook her head and sid off the cuff, showing Rio her old scar, a perfect oval in the shape of Remmy’s mouth. “I’m already bitten and dead, Rio. Say, you didn’t happen to bring a car here, did you?”

“I’m not going to puke on her!” Orion yelled back, unsure why he was even still yelling. Stress. He totally blamed stress. He needed to calm down. Take a chill pill or something. That was all thrown out the window when Morgan tried to reassure him by letting him know that she wasn’t bleeding. “How are you not bleeding?” Rio was right back to freaking out now. But Morgan seemed more together than Rio was. She was in the right state of mind to fish out something from her bag and give it to the tied up woman. “Is that… brains?” Rio asked, the most calm he had been since showing up here. He examined the mush curiously. Everything seemingly clicked into place when Morgan showed off what looked like an old, already healed scar. She was dead? “You’re… a zombie?” Rio muttered aloud, needing to hear the words to actually begin processing it. A moment of fear passed through him as he considered that Rio had just willingly walked into being part of their midnight snack. But he pushed the thought away quickly. That couldn’t be. This was his professor. They had talked about books and the supernatural together. “Woah. You’re nothing like the old Haitian story of zombies.” His head tilted curiously as he examined his teacher to try to pick out any defining details. By all accounts, she looked human to him. “Hmm… interesting.” Rio nodded, and then grimaced at the next question, “About that… I don’t really have a car right now. It belongs to my parents and I’m not really talking to them right now and- y’know what? It’s a whole thing. Clearly we have other things going on right now. Maybe I can call my friend Blanche. Or one of my roommates! Maybe they can help us? Or uh… Where are we taking her anyways?”

“Wow, kid, that’s really one heck of a compliment,” Morgan deadpanned. “But...yes. I got hurt really bad and I died. Two months ago now. That’s why I missed so much school towards the end of the semester. I died, Rio.” She looked down at the woman gnashing her teeth at the brain bits in the tupperware. “But I have people who help take care of me. I can stay fed easily. I have a home. I have a girlfriend that loves me. I even have magic pills for my new zombie physiology that help manage all the depression I’ve got over dying. I don’t know which of those this woman is missing, but whatever it is, she’s still a person. She’s as much of a person as I am. Does that make sense?” She looked at him earnestly. Rio was a good kid. Rio didn’t believe in hurting people. He had to get it. Maybe it was hard to see the woman in her own right. Even Morgan couldn’t do that. She didn’t know her name or if she was happy before she died or how long she had been dragging herself out of bed. She could only see her pain. She had to be in so much pain to have sunk this far. The days of starving had to have been excruciating. With this kind of decay, maybe it was even weeks. “I was thinking of getting her to the butcher’s, but I don’t know if their stock will be enough for her. It’s worth a shot, if we can keep her from getting noticed. “Unless you wanna do a run? You got venmo, Rio?” She asked. The brains were almost gone, and of the two of them, Rio was the one most in danger. And this wasn’t his problem, now that she was mostly subdued. “You don’t have to, you know. I can take this from here.”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say at this moment. Clearly, Orion had no idea what he was doing. He had grown up knowing about the supernatural. He loved learning about them and yet despite this he still had just barely scratched the surface. He knew nothing about Zombies, or real zombies at least. “Wow. I’m uh- sorry? That doesn’t sound like a good thing. But you don’t look dead.” Rio tried, he didn’t think that helped redeem him. “Okay that was probably a bad thing to say too. But despite all that… I’m really glad that you have a good support system, y’know? That must have been a really difficult thing to go through and… well I’m really glad things seem okay now. At least, hopefully everything’s okay.” And Morgan seemed dead set on helping this woman right now. And though the woman tied up seemed a little… murdery right now, Rio believed that with some help she could end up like Morgan seemed now. Completely put together. “I believe you. And I’m in. Let’s help her. Uh- I can run somewhere and get stuff… I don’t know what to get. But tell me and I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, you can tell that to my necrosis whenever I wait too long to eat my wheaties.” Morgan mumbled. You can test my pulse too, if you want.” She held out her hand, the bite standing out as a heavy shadow on her pale skin. “And no, you don’t need to be sorry--” But Rio was. He was just a kid doing his best with problems way bigger than himself. “But thank you. I know you mean it well.” She stared at the woman writhing in front of them again. She could see, too clearly now, what hunters did. A raving thing, a disaster they needed to triage before it got out of hand, a monster… “I can venmo you. A hundred dollars so should be able to buy out the brains at the butcher shop, whatever other weird organs they’ve got. That’s a start.” And while he was out she could maybe scrounge up a deer. They wandered through near dusk in little clusters, and it was the time of year when fauns were left to hide in the tall grass while mothers hunted. If she was quick and lucky, she’d be able to nab one for this woman to have. And maybe then, maybe if they were lucky, she could be okay. Morgan wrenched a hand through her hair and took out her phone to send the money over.

Orion laughed, happy that despite the horrible events that had clearly befallen his teacher without him even knowing about it, she could maintain some level of humor. “Don’t worry. I believe you. It’s uh- definitely not my first rodeo with the supernatural.” Even if he didn’t quite understand, he did believe. “Um right. I got it. Give me…” Rio paused, checking his phone for the time, “Twenty minutes. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

One of the good things about being a hunter? Superhuman endurance. Rio was definitely not in shape, but he could run for a while without having to stop. From here, he was pretty sure that it would be more efficient to get a car. If he could run home and borrow Ricky’s truck then he could get to the butcher shop and back without too much trouble. So he ran towards their house as fast as he possibly could, not letting anything distract him.

It worried Morgan how much animals still trusted her. The faun was too scared of the moaning woman six yards ahead to move. Morgan was able to settle down near it, still as death, and when it came over to sniff her out of curiosity, she took its neck and snapped it. The head dangled limp from the body like a toy that had lost all its stuffing. She carried it back to the woman and did not have to wait for her to wriggle and strain against her bonds trying to eat it. Morgan took out a knife and sliced the creature open neatly so she didn’t have to fight. Then she walked away enough yards so the smell of it wouldn’t compel her to steal a starving woman’s meal and licked blood and skin from her hands.

When Rio finally returned, Morgan was perched atop a large cross marker, stained with blood for all that she’d tried to keep herself clean. “Just unwrap everything for her and drop it where she can reach,” she called. “And then, you know, come over here so you don’t get bitten.”

Buying brains from a butcher was perhaps the most uncomfortable Orion had ever been. Despite this incredibly odd request, the butcher didn’t seem to think much of it at all. Which could only mean that this was not an uncommon request that he received. Which probably implied that Morgan and this woman were not the only zombies in town. It hadn’t occurred until now that Morgan could have been the one that turned this woman. But no. His Professor wouldn’t do that. Not unless she had to for some reason. Right?

Rio drove back to Morgan mostly in silence. He hated driving the truck. He didn’t trust himself with a big car. Plus he could barely see while driving the thing and hated ruining Ricky’s seat and mirror placement. But desperate times. Rio parked and hopped out, extending his arm so he could hold the brains at a distance from himself. “I’m here!” Rio yelled out, stopping when he noticed that Morgan had blood all over her shirt. Oh no. “What happened? Are you okay?” Rio asked. Despite this, maybe because he was too trusting just as Athena had always insulted him with, he followed Morgan’s instructions. Unwrapping the brains and tossing it to the tied up woman before hopping away and standing close to his professor. He could smell the blood that stained her. It was fresh.

“It’s okay, Rio,” Morgan said. “What do you think I’m gonna do, die again?” She smirked. A beat later, maybe too late, she wondered if that was maybe a bad joke. Rio knew about the supernatural, but maybe not about death. He hadn’t studied zombies before in his big secret library. He barely seemed comfortable with hauling brains and organs over from the butcher. Morgan sighed with a grimace and tried again. “I killed a faun for her. I didn’t think that was something you needed to be around to see. Brains sustain zombies best, but freshly dead meat is…” Her stomach grumbled, twisting. “Like candy on Halloween. You can’t not have any.” She looked down at him, still clinging to her perch. Her fingers had worn notches into the rock, worrying at the grain to keep from breaking off Bambi’s leg and going to town herself. “It’s just how we’re made,” she said quietly. “When the mother comes back to see if her faun is still around, I’ll try to get her too, if our friend isn’t back to herself yet.” She hesitated a moment, wondering if they had crossed into over sharing territory, if this was already too much for one troubled kid to bear in one night. “You don’t have to watch, or be around for any of that,” she said. “This is just another Tuesday for me, but it was a lot to get used to. It still is. You’ve been a big help, though. If all this turns out okay, it’s gonna be because of you. Because you cared.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You uh...you can ask me questions, if you have any. I know all this is...strange. And lived experience can tell you certain things a book can’t.” She offered him a smile, her fear weighing on her softness. Please don’t think less of me for this.

Orion laughed nervously. Was that Morgan being offended? Or Morgan making a joke. A few seconds later and Morgan smirked at Rio, hopefully confirming that it had been a joke instead. “A faun.” Rio repeated, mostly to himself. He was still processing. Rio appreciated the information. He was taking mental notes, making sure to remember all of the information that he was learning about zombies. Maybe he would head back to the building tomorrow, start digging through his books for some information on the undead. The whole thing seemed like Alain’s side, but Rio knew better than to trust a hunter’s point of view when it came to the supernatural. Rio knew from personal experience that those teachings were biased. “I don’t- I usually don’t do that well around blood. But uh- I don’t want to make you do this stuff by yourself.” Morgan opened the board for questions. And boy, did Rio have questions. Way more questions than he possibly knew how to order and ask. “I- I have questions. But right now seems like the wrong time, y’know? With her… in the state she is in.” He sighed. Just another person in this town that has been through some awful experience that Rio wasn’t able to help prevent.

Morgan nodded and watched the woman eat. It might’ve been faster to let her have her hands back, but Morgan remembered the complete haze around her mind when she woke into her feeding frenzy. She hadn’t even known her own name, much less ‘eating people bad.’ If the wrong person had been in the room, she probably would’ve done everything she could to tear them to bits. “Anyone tell you lately what a good kid you are?” She asked. It was a rhetorical question, but she hoped nonetheless that someone was encouraging his generosity. Even if he could probably stand to get less squeamish. In time, the groans of the woman changed. Morgan gestured for Rio to stay back and made her way slowly over.

There was hardly anything left of the faun, but just enough that Morgan couldn’t stop herself from reaching into its ruined skull and scooping out its small black eyes and the thin tissue of its cheek muscle to munch on. She knelt down near the woman, still working the flesh in her mouth. “Hey,” she said, gently as she could with her mouth half full. “Can you talk? Are you good now?” The woman groaned and dashed herself into the red stained grass, angling her mouth for the rest of the faun. “Okay! Not feeling the impulse control. That’s okay! But I’m gonna need like...one intelligible word before you get this carcass.”

“Mmmhh. Aaarr...oh..k-kay.”

Blessed universe she was okay.

Morgan went around and loosened her bonds enough for her to wriggle free and stepped back as she held the faun and the scraps of flesh she hadn’t devoured yet as if they were all the treasure in the world. “You...shouldn’t...have done this,” she panted.

“I don’t see why not, Morgan replied. “What’s your name?”

The woman sucked the last remnants of life from the faun’s ribs and reached for a scattering of brain bits to shove into her mouth. “Ashley,” she said at last. “I didn’t--” She paused to swallow. As she wiped the mess from her chin she caught sight of the blood and mess on her hands, matching Morgan’s and then some. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not any of this, you idiots.” And then she was sprinting downhill, stumbling and falling over her own feet but never stopping, the dead animal still tucked in her arms. Morgan reached for her, but caught only the edge of her torn hiking vest. It fell right off, like it had been waiting to all along.

“It hurts sometimes, being like this, Rio,” she said, hanging her head as Ashley disappeared from sight. “Even when you have everything you need, it can still hurt.” There wasn’t any point in tracking her down again, not when Rio could get hurt, and he had done so much already. She willed herself to look up and gave him the saddest apologetic smile. “Sorry you got sucked into this. What were you up to before anyway?”

Orion felt the heat burning his cheeks as the blush came on. Good kid. They weren’t unfamiliar words, not anymore. But they still warmed him each time he heard them. He supposed being starved for acceptance and praise did that to a kid. “Uh- I get told that more so recently than ever before. But uh- Thank you.” Whether or not she was expecting an answer, Rio thought it would be rude to just not thank her for the compliment.

Over time, Rio witnessed first hand how the almost primal hunger seemed to die down from the woman. Slowly, her eating became less frantic and more of that of a human that had not eaten in days. Morgan was fearless, strolling right up to her. Though he supposed death probably helped to quell many of the fears that Rio felt right now.

The zombie- Ashley- seemed confused. Scared, even. And despite what the two had done to help her, Ashley took off the moment she was comprehensive and scurried off down the hill, leaving Rio and Morgan by themselves. And all of that fear and anguish that Rio could see in Ashley’s face, must have been similar to what Morgan had been through. Her words were raw, her smile doing nothing to mask the sadness or pain present in her voice. This was her life now. Something she was forced to deal with in order to stay alive. Or re-alive, which wasn’t actually a word but would have to apply for this situation. “You helped her. Even though she couldn’t see it right now… you just protected people from potentially getting hurt. And you protected her from making a terrible mistake. That’s… incredible.” Rio breathed, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath the entire time. “I was just at the old Scribe building, heading home for the night when I heard the noises outside the cemetery.”

“Stars, I hope so,” Morgan sighed. She didn’t feel like she had done much. She had hoped to at least talk to someone else like her for a little longer, to ask what she really needed to get by for longer than a day or two. Who did she have? How had she starved so badly? All she had to go on was one torn up hiking vest and a name. She pushed the thought of Ashley to the back of her mind. Maybe she could put out a call online or ask the ghosts in the cemetery to keep an eye out, just in case she turned up here again or...something. But for now she was as good as lost.

Morgan exhaled. Without the need for air, her body retained most of its tension from the past hour until she worked consciously at it, slumping and rolling her neck and shoulders and arms. “You helped too, Rio. I wouldn’t have been able to manage her by myself. Come on,” she urged gently. She held out an arm, beckoning him close, imagining a one armed hug to calm his nerves. Then she saw the blood on her hands and thought better on it. She let it fall limp at her side and wiped it down on her skirt. “I appreciate that you tried. That counts for something. Let’s get you home, okay?”

#brainful process #wr rio #wr chatzy #wr rio chatzy #wr

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notsofly · 5 years

Text

Ties in Blood -- Chapter 29

Major apologizes for not getting this done sooner for being out of work for the past like 2 months. I seriously shoulda had this and maybe another one and a half done before now. But job searching and other RL stuff took president. Two: Damn you, Chuck. This is gonna fuck up what I have planned for Aaliyah after the Amara fight going forward. It brings up the question would he do to Aaliyah what he did to Jack? I’m half looking for someone to bounce ideas off of without giving away everything for everyone. And now I’m rambling.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @squirrelnotsam @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017

Chapter 29

Aaliyah pushed through the crowd toward the house. She heard several people yell after her to not do it; let the professionals do it. The fire and ambulance teams were still a few minutes out and would be too late to save the children trapped in the house. Aaliyah was there and tossed her life into the wind. She choked on the smoke filled living room, her breath caught in her throat. A hand brought up the collar of her shirt to cover her nose and mouth.

“Kids,” she called out, diving deeper into the house. “Come on, make some sound.”

Something hit a wall upstairs and Aaliyah swore she heard something bounce a few times before it stopped. Her eyes watered from the smoke as she climbed the stairs. Faint crying came from one of the rooms. There was a child no older than two standing up in the crib. Aaliyah picked up the crying toddler and turned back for the hallway when the ceiling caved in. She stumbled back a few steps as she half turned to shield the child, hitting the crib. Some small part of Aaliyah’s brain registered pain, but she ignored it to focus on getting out of the room.

The burning pile was big enough to make getting out difficult. With a silent apology to both the toddler and the parents, Aaliyah charged the pile and leapt through.

“Mommy,” a child called followed by coughing.

Aaliyah followed the call, her mind telling her to forget the child and worry about herself. She fought back the urge as she turned into the bedroom. Half of it was already covered in collapsed ceiling, with one or two piles burning away. With a cough that threatened to bring up a lung, Aaliyah dove in and found the child and pulled them in front of her.

“Go, don’t stop for me,” she told the child.

Aaliyah kept a hand out in the odd sense of comfort that she’d be able to tell if the child was still in front of her. Back down the hall and the stairs and out the front door.

EMS and fire fighters rushed over and took control of the children as Aaliyah hacked away from the smoke. She pulled away when a hand touched her arm before her mind snapped back to see a fire fighter. The danger was gone. Two more lives had been saved, and she could go vanish into the night. But with the gentle yet urging hand on her arm told her vanishing wouldn’t be a good thing.

She followed the fire fighter over to an empty ambulance where the EMS cut away her burned and smoked clothes in order to tend to her burns. One handed her an oxygen mask.

“Where’d these come from?” one EMS asked, tracing the werewolf scars on her back.

“Bear attack. Stupid luck had me at the wrong place and time.” Aaliyah wasn’t sure if the two techs actually believed her or not, but they didn’t press the issue. She stayed still and quiet while they finished up tending to the burns.

“You got lucky,” the first EMS told her. “Most are first degree burns with a few that are second. Some of the first degree might turn second, so just keep putting on ointment and keep them covered for a few weeks.” He finished putting on the final bandage.

“Thanks.” Aaliyah handed the oxygen mask back to the other EMS and eased herself out of the ambulance. She adjusted her jacket over her body. It had been the one thing that had somehow survived the fire.

“You look familiar,” the second one spoke up. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

Aaliyah’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest. “I doubt it.”

“I swear you look like the one ER nurse that had saddled a patient and stuck a needle into their chest to expand a lung.”

Aaliyah chuckled as a corner of her mouth pulled into a smile. “I think you’ve got your nurses confused.”

“I think I heard about that,” the first EMS said. “A friend of mine at that ER said that the nurse who did that seriously worked outside the box; and the higher ups didn’t like that. A shame, really.”

Aaliyah tilted her head, a mix of confusion and curiosity. “How so?”

“Not to speak ill of the nurse or the hospital,” the EMS said. “But word has it that the last time she had been seen, the night she got fired, was the same night she supposedly put a curse on the ER department and rode off in a black Impala. The ER’s had a string of bad luck ever since.”

“You really think this nurse cursed the ER department just because she got fired?” After nearly three years, Aaliyah hadn’t really thought about the hospital or what’s happened since.

“Kinda hard not to think it since half the staff that had worked with her spoke of her as if she was some sort of supernatural connection,” the second EMS said. “And the other half not liking what she’s done because, quote, she didn’t adhere to policies and procedures.”

Aaliyah gave an amused huff more to herself. To think after all this time she was seen as somewhat of a legend back in the ER. “Well, even if I was this nurse you’ve heard of, I doubt that who I was then isn’t me now.”

“I’d say so,” the first EMS said. “Never known a nurse to run into a burning building to save a couple kids and come out with smoke inhalation and mostly first degree burns. Especially with a new tattoo.”

A phone started ringing, startling all three. Aaliyah padded at her pockets and fished out her phone as she walked away from the ambulance. “Fisher.”

“Aaliyah, it’s Sam. We need your help.”

She cast a glance back to the EMS that treated her packing up. “It’s about Lilith, isn’t it?”

***

Aaliyah glanced over to Dean when he shot up in bed. She sat hunched over the table with a lore book open at a page with a sketching of what a hellhound might look like. Anything she had been dealing with was dropped when Sam called for help. Both brothers had gotten on her for being reckless in running into the burning house and getting her wounds.

She didn’t tell them that she gone in to clean up the mess from another hunter who had gotten in way over their head. Aaliyah wasn’t sure what happened to that hunter since the house fire.The cabin door opened and Aaliyah reached for her knife before a reassuring hand rested on her shoulder. She had pushed past her body’s demands for sleep in the effort to figure out how to stop the hellhounds.

“Dig up anything?” Sam asked.

Aaliyah shook her head. “Nothing good.” She turned back to the book.

“Bobby has. Finally. A way to find Lilith.”

“Oh?” Dean shifted on the bed and looked at his watch. “With about thirty hours to go.”

Aaliyah ignored Dean when he started going off on last minute ‘I want to have fun before I die’ requests. She flipped a page while Sam made the meager attempt to reassure his brother that they weren’t going to let Dean go to hell. There had to be a way to stop the whole thing. The thought of going out and summoning a cross-roads demon passed through, but where would that get anyone? Dean might be saved for a time, or he’d be going down with her in ten years. If the demon was willing to do that.

“Here, Kid,” Bobby’s voice drifted into Aaliyah’s dream.

She heard the sound of a cup being placed on the table near her head before footsteps walked away. She reached for the cup of coffee even before she opened her eyes and pushed up to sit. The table had been freed of the books and a map of the United States took up the free space.

“What’s this?” Aaliyah asked when Bobby put a device onto the map.

“A tracking spell. All you really need is a name. Right name and spell, ain’t nothing you can’t suss out.”

Aaliyah sipped a the coffee, still hating the bitter taste of it. There probably wasn’t enough sugar or flavoring in the world to cancel that out. She sat there and listened as Bobby started the spell to locate Lilith.

“New Harmony, Indiana,” Bobby said.

“Alright.” Aaliyah put down the cup and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get going.”

“Whoa, hang on for a minute,” Dean called after her.

“What? We know where Lilith’s at, and…”

“We’re going off of Bela’s intel,” Dean countered. “And we don’t know if Lilith even holds my deal. Even if we can get to her, we have no way to gank her. And third, what makes you think we’re gonna let you go in on this one?”

Aaliyah blinked a few times. “What makes you think I’m gonna sit this one out? Or let you three leave me on the sidelines? How many times do I have to tell you that I’m involved now; way too involved. I’m going in with you.” She narrowed her eyes at Dean, daring him to do something.

“Just ‘cause I have to die doesn’t mean you all have too,” he countered.

“Then what’s the plan?” Sam cut in. “We go in smart or we don’t go in at all.”

“If that’s the case, I have an answer.”

Aaliyah shifted her eyes between the two brothers. Her stomach started turning with the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

“You do?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. A sure-fire way to confirm it’s Lilith,” Sam said. “And a way to get us a bona fide demon killing genus.”

“Damn it, Sam, no.”

“No?” Aaliyah chimed in.

“Sam here has a brilliant idea of calling for his demon friend Ruby,” Dean told her.

“A demon?” She turned to face Sam. “Are you nuts? After all the trouble we had with yellow eyes and Meg? We don’t need the added problems.”

“Exactly,” Sam said. “And we don’t have time or choice.”

“Come on, man,” Dean cut in. “She’s the Miss Universe of lying shanks. She said you could save me. Uh – lie. She seemed to know everything about Lilith, but failed to mention that she owns my soul.”

“Fine, she lies,” Sam agreed. “But she has the knife.”

“For all we know she works for Lilith.”

“Can we really trust this Ruby?” Aaliyah asked. “I mean if she’s lied about stuff before, what’s to stop her now?”

“Sam’s right,” Bobby put his opinion into the conversation.

“No, damn it.”

Aaliyah took a step back from Dean.

“Just … no,” he continued. “We’re not making the same mistakes. You want to save me, find something else.”

Aaliyah felt more than actually saw Bobby turn and leave the cabin. She attempted to get further into the book before her head bobbed.

“Get some sleep, Liyra,” Dean told her. “Between the two of us, you need it more.”

She shook her head. “Gotta find … something to help.”

A hand grabbed her arm and guided her up over to the bed. She didn’t fight it.

“Just a few hours,” Aaliyah agreed as she laid down.

Aaliyah stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket before she reached the door. She wasn’t sure what to do with the number the burly biker guy gave her, but it could be useful at one point in the future. Darting down the stairs, Aaliyah nearly missed a step.

“And who’s this?” called a female voice Aaliyah didn’t recognize.

“Get back upstairs,” Sam and Dean called at the same time.

“Like hell I’m not,” Aaliyah replied, reaching the floor. “Especially not when you refused to listen in calling…” she looked over the woman who stood a half foot shorter than her. “Ruby.”

“She’s cute,” Ruby commented, moving toward Aaliyah.

“And you’re not gonna put a finger on her.” Dean moved to place himself between the demon and Aaliyah.

“I’d like to see her try,” Aaliyah challenged. She raised a hand and pulled down her collar to reveal a bandage taped to her chest over her hear.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.Aaliyah heard the protective brother tone in his voice. “Oh, a tattoo. It’s supposed to be a shaded in pentagram and circled by shaded in flames.”

“You mean like this?” Sam showed her the same tattoo.

“The same exact one.”

“You all think that’ll save you?” Ruby asked. “That a tattoo will stop hellhounds from coming after Dean here?”

“No, but I hear of a certain knife of yours,” Aaliyah cut in. “That’s gotta be useful for something, right?”

“Why would I give you my knife?” Ruby asked. “Sam’s carrying a bomb in him, and we’d be stupid not to use it.”

Aaliyah kept an eye on Dean while he paced. “I don’t know about this.”

“Just hold on for a minute …” Sam started.

“Come on, man,” Dean cut him off. “Are you blind? Can’t you see this is a trick?”

“That’s not true,” Ruby countered.

“She wants you to give into this whole demonic psychic whatever,” Dean continued. “Hell, she probably wants you to become her little Anti-Christ Super Star.”

“That’s not it,” Ruby yelled, anger in her voice. “I want Lilith dead, that’s all.”

“Why?” Aaliyah dared to speak up.

“I told them why.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean moved enough to bring Ruby’s attention back to him. “Because you were human once. And you love kittens and long walks on the beach.”

“I’m sick and tired of trying to prove myself to you,” Ruby shouted. “You wanna save yourself? This is how, you dumb, spineless dick.”

Aaliyah blinked once before Dean swung at Ruby. She managed to hold Sam back from the fist fight between Ruby and Dean. Sam frees himself from Aaliyah’s hold and got hit to the floor. Aaliyah aimed for Ruby with a lineman’s tackle move, but the demon side stepped the attack. Her hand brushed against the hilt of a blade and grabbed hold. She pivoted around to see Dean next to her and Ruby facing them and smiled. Aaliyah coughed to clear her throat and gained their attention.

“Missing something?” Aaliyah held up the knife. She grinned even as Ruby gave a ‘you bastard’ look

.“I’m gonna kill you.” Ruby charged at Aaliyah.

Aaliyah stumbled back a few steps when Dean tugged at her jacket.

“Like I said,” Dean said. “I knew you’d come.”

Aaliyah felt the nudge from him to follow. Circling around the demon trap, she reached the stairs and headed up. Part of her knew that Dean wouldn’t let her stay down there for long, or leave her alone with Ruby.

“That was risky,” Dean turned on Aaliyah when they reached the main floor. “Too risky.”

”What was so risky about it? No more than anything else I’ve done before.”

“This isn’t some demon or salt and burn, Liyra. We’re going up against Lilith.”

“And how’s some high powered demon any different from Yellow Eyes? Or did you forget I was involved with that as well? You know what?” She held up the knife before putting it onto the table. “Fuck this. You don’t want me involved; I’ll go find a case to work.”

Aaliyah saw herself out of the house. Her mind warred with itself while she crossed over to her car. It was down to the wire in their effort to save Dean, and he didn’t want her involved with taking out Lilith.

“Aaliyah, wait,” a voice called out after her.

“Why?” She spun on a heel to see Dean chasing after her. “So, you tell me what a horrible mistake it is for me to be involved again? After all the shit we’ve been through, you think that it’ll be easy for me to step aside while you and Sam go after Lilith? You think she’s more trouble then Yellow Eyes, and you don’t want me there. Fine, I’ll be out somewhere on the west coast somewhere hunting something.”

A hand grabbed her wrist while she turned for the car.

Aaliyah swung back around, a fist balled and in full motion for contact. The fist was grabbed and Dean pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. Her body froze in confusion. It was so unlike Dean to show any sort of emotion, other than rage after bottling it up for so long.

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said in Aaliyah’s ear. “I’m a hunter. Comes with the territory.” Dean pulled away from her. “I mean it. If anything goes sideways for us, I want you gone.”

“Got it. Now, are we gonna go gank this demon or not?”

***

Aaliyah shifted in the backseat while Sam tried to have a quick heart to heart with Dean. The thought of putting her music on passed through her head; she had thought ahead of time to bring a selection of CDs and her player. Fishing the player and a CD out of her bag, Aaliyah shifted around to stretch out across the bench.

From the front seat, Dean started singing along to “Wanted Dead or Alive” that was playing on the radio. For as good as the song was, she wasn’t in the mood to listen to it. Not with what loomed on the horizon. Time passed and Aaliyah was on the edge of consciousness; the rumble of the car’s engine threatened to send her completely unconscious.

It had that eerie call back to when she was riding with the brothers on the crazy mission to find their father and taking out Yellow Eyes; with her in the backseat trying to figure out where she fit into the hunter’s world, Dean driving and his choice of classic rock music playing, and Sam in the passenger seat reading. What didn’t fit was the loud sirens that forced itself into Aaliyah’s sleep.

“…Pulled over?” she muttered as she worked into a sitting position.

“Got a busted tail light,” Dean tossed back at her. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not when you might do something stupid.”

Aaliyah adjusted herself even as Dean pulled over to the side of the road. She smiled politely to the officer when he shone his flashlight into her window. Keeping quiet while Dean dealt with the officer, she fought back the feeling that something was way too off with the officer. She jumped back when Dean threw his door open against the officer before climbing out of the car. Sam waved her back while Dean stabbed at the officer. A hand touched her shoulder, alerting Aaliyah that someone was there.

“What just happened?” Bobby asked.

“Dean just killed a demon,” Sam answered. “How’d you know?”

“I saw its face, the one under that one.”

Aaliyah pulled away from Bobby and went to hunch down at the officer. “We need to move the patrol car.”

Sam nodded and moved for the car.Aaliyah followed after while he managed the vehicle into a wooded spot and started pulling on branches.

“How’s it that you’re seeing demons now?” she asked when she put the last branch on the car.

“I’ve seen lots of crazy lately,” Dean said. “Just … nothing like this.”

“Actually,” Bobby cut in. “It’s not that crazy.”

“How is seeing demons not crazy?” Aaliyah asked.

“Think about it. Dean’s got about five hours to go and is piercing the veil.”

“A little less new age-y please.”

“You’re almost hell’s bitch,” Bobby put it blunt. “So you can see hell’s other bitches.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Aaliyah turned her head at the noise that Sam was making to join them. “Think about it. Lilith knows we’re coming. And she’s bound to have demons all over the damn place.”

“We can’t be letting them sounding the alarm,” Bobby said. “She knows we’re here; and we’re dead before we start.”

“This plan’s terrific,” Dean half complained. “So excited to be apart of it. Can we go now?”

Aaliyah watched him storm away from the spot. There had to be a way to stop the deal. They were at the one yard line last year with the Hell’s Gate and Yellow Eyes. Same thing here with the deal.

She darted between shadows, hearing the hushed voice of Bobby telling her not to show off. Her mind had gone full Hunter mood now that they were so close to Lilith. Even if the deal couldn’t be broken, killing Lilith would be nice. Aaliyah stopped at a house, using it to hide, and waited. One dark house on the street has a “For Sale” sign in the yard; the one where Lilith was. A hand guided her back away from the ambient light.

Aaliyah noticed that Bobby had taken her spot with Sam, who was using a pair of binoculars to spy on the house, standing behind him. She could sense Dean standing behind her. The usual line up plus one. Even when he was facing down death, Dean was making sure she was safe.

Aaliyah saw Sam step out from behind the house and reached out to stop him.

“You crazy?”

“Better then standing here waiting for ‘em to kill us.”

“See the real go-getter of a mailman?” Dean pointed out. “Doing the rounds at nine pm? And Mr. Rodgers over there?”

“Demons?” Bobby asked.

“Yes,” Dean answered.

“Okay, fine,” Sam said, shifting his weight. “We …. ninja past them and get in.”

“Then what? Give a ‘Columbian necktie’ to a ten year old? Come on.”

“I know it’s awful, but this isn’t just about saving you, Dean. It’s about saving everyone.”

Aaliyah glanced over to Bobby when Dean gave in. She followed after the older hunter while the brothers went off in a different direction.

“Here,” he said, handing over a rosary. “Doubt you learned how to make holy water in the past few years.”

Aaliyah shook her head, keeping the comment of killing demons was easier. Doing the hard work to get into the water pipes, she repeated the words Bobby told her and dropped the rosary into the pipe.

“How do we know if it worked?”

“Wait and turn the sprinklers on,” he said. “Listen, kid. This is gonna go bad tonight, no matter what we do. Can an old hunter get a last request?”

“You want me to get out of hunting? I can try, Bobby. Let’s get through tonight, huh?”

“Fair enough. Go meet up with the boys, I got it from here.”

Aaliyah nodded and headed around to the front where Sam was struggling on picking the lock. “Need some help?”

A scream brought her attention up to see Dean and Ruby running up to the house. Aaliyah pulled out a knife and stepped out away from Sam straight for Ruby. The sudden waterworks of the sprinkler system sent Aaliyah back.Sam pulled Aaliyah into the house after him, followed by Dean and Ruby. Aaliyah glanced around as she took up a spot behind Sam as he led the way through the house with the knife.

A creak from behind turned her head. She stepped away from Sam even as Dean took up a spot behind her. Reaching out, Aaliyah held the knife in a way it would be the first thing to move in attack. Dean opened the door to reveal the father.Aaliyah put a finger to her lips to tell the father to keep quiet.

“We’re here to help. Where’s your daughter?”

“It’s …” he stammered. “It’s not her anymore.”

Aaliyah leaned in closer to him, eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs; bedroom.”

“Now, go down to the basement and put a salt line down in front of the door behind you,” she instructed.

“Not without my wife.”

“Yes, without your wife.” Aaliyah saw another refusal and punched the man.

She moved as Dean reached in for the man, shouldering the limp body. Her eye caught Sam and Ruby moving for the stairs. Aaliyah found the salt in the kitchen and headed downstairs after Dean, putting the salt line down after he dumped the father. She darted up the stairs and took the flight to the second floor two steps at a time. Dean thumped up behind her, pushing past when they reached the top.

A scream echoed from a room. Aaliyah charged for the room on Dean’s heels. He stopped Sam from putting Ruby’s knife into the girl.

“It’s not Lilith,” Dean said. “It’s not in her.”

Aaliyah glanced between the girl and her mother. It wouldn’t be much of an issue for a high ranked demon like Lilith to pull back and let the human have control. That much she remembered from dealing with Yellow Eyes. She brought up the rear of the group as they headed downstairs. Aaliyah half heard Dean instructed the mother and child to remain in the basement no matter what they hear.

She walked into the living room and glanced out the window to see the sprinkler system still acting as a barrier to the demons out on the street.Somewhere she heard Sam and Ruby bicker back and forth about what Sam had to do to save Dean. Aaliyah turned back to the group and saw Sam take a breath.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “This is all my fault, I know that. But what you’re doing isn’t gonna save me. It’ll kill you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

Aaliyah heard Sam’s voice crack just a little and fought back her tears. “Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Remember what Dad taught you. Okay?”

Aaliyah nodded along with Sam. She startled when the clock in the other room started chiming midnight. Her breath caught in her throat when the first rumble of a hellhound rolled into the room.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Ruby said, remorse in her voice. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Aaliyah wiped away her tears and pushed her feelings deep before she turned in the direction Dean pointed at. She hadn’t the chance to stand her ground before a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her along after them. First into the office, Aaliyah bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting to close the doors. Sam helped to brace them closed while Dean put down a line of dust in front of the doors. Aaliyah heard Ruby ask Sam for the knife, claiming she could fight it off.

“Why would he give you the knife?” Aaliyah questioned, her head tilted to a side. “I mean you’ve barely lifted a finger to help all night.”

“If she can manage it …” Sam countered, pulling out the knife.

“Wait!” Dean rushed over. “That’s not Ruby.”

Aaliyah took one step toward Ruby before being flung against a wall, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Gasping for breath, she barely registered the conversation between Dean and Lilith. Using the wall for support, Aaliyah managed to gain her feet just as Lilith turned her attention on her.

“You know,” Lilith started. “You should have taken that message to heart and gone back to school.” She put a gentle hand to Aaliyah’s cheek.

“And miss out on seeing you squirm?” Aaliyah gave a half smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You got nerve,” Sam called over to Lilith. “Besides, you got me. Let them go.”

“Don’t you worry, Sam.” Lilith turned her attention over to him, removing her hand from Aaliyah’s face. “And if you wanna bargain, you need to have something I want.”

Aaliyah struggled to prop herself up against the wall and watched Lilith stalk toward Sam.

“This is your big plan,” Dean told Lilith. “Kill Sam, drag me to hell, and leave Aaliyah here? Then what? Become Queen Bitch?”

“I don’t answer to puppy chow,” the demon retorted.

She moved over to the door and opened it. “Sic him.”

A scream tore at Aaliyah’s throat, scratching it up as the hellhound pulled Dean off the table and onto the floor. She fought against the force that held her against the wall in the effort to save Dean. Sam’s voice was distant as he pled to Lilith for it to stop while Dean’s screams of pain mingled with Sam’s voice. The force that held Aaliyah to the wall broke away, allowing her to slide on her knees toward a bloody and torn up Dean.

A light breeze crossed her skin, sending her hairs to stand on end. She ignored the hellhound and checked for a pulse. The hand pulled back slow as Sam circled around and cradled Dean. Some part of her picked up that the hellhound was gone, and Sam was in the middle of an ugly cry, but Aaliyah’s mind had checked out.

#supernatural season three fan fiction hell hounds Dean Winchester Sam Winchester Bobby Singer OFC

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idreamofhazeleyes · 5 years

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Ties in Blood -- Chapter 29

A repost from my other account. I was shookth when I saw I got this account back. I honestly hadn’t expected this one back. I’ll make a post about that after I post this.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @winchestergirl-13 @impala-dreamer @percussiongirl2017 @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam