#putting death warning in front cause well. u know. blowing his own head off | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

sum angst for sapnap x quackity x karl x reader if requests are open, i dont remember if they are, and if u feel up to it

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader + sleepy bois x sibling!reader

trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, character death

this is an in game au so be aware of that

premise: you’ve been on the inside, spying on Shlatt for pogtopia, you thought you had had him convinced that the spy was Tubbo (Who knew just about nothing about pogtopia) but during the festival Shlatt asks you to make a speech... after the festival, things begin to fall apart

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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“And you’re sure about this? You’re positive that it’s him and not Quackity?” Shlatt asked.

The festival was in two days, Wilbur’s plan to blow Manburg was in place, and suddenly huge evidence of things you had berried was piling up. Your entire position as Pogopia’s spy was at risk.

“I’m positive Mr. President. I caught Tuboo poking around in some tunnels, trying to talk to TommyInnt just yesterday,” You lied straight through your teeth, “The log I found behind the files proves it.”

You held up the book, truly a work of your own notes, signed in you co workers hand.

Shlatt took it, quickly skimming through the pages, “Hmmm, this is significant evidence to condemn the kid. We’ll have to do something about.”

“Maybe we should exile him, like Wilbur and Tommy.” You suggested carefully.

He considered it for a moment, a wide jagged grin spreading across his face, “Or... we could execute him,” He seemed to take pleasure in your shock, “Publicly. We have been needing a slam finish for that festival.”

“Shlatt Tubbo is just a child!”

Shlatt glared down at you, “Sorry, what was that? It almost sounded like you were trying to go against the word of the president.”

The threat chilled you to the core, and you strained to stay calm, “With all due respect Mr. President, Tubbo is only 16, and there are other ways to deal with insurgents.”

“Insurgents? As in there's multiple now?” Alex strode into the room, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you breathed a slight sigh of relief.

“Yes, your partner here has just informed me that our dear Tubbo is a traitor,” Shlatt slammed the journal onto the desk, ignoring the glare Alex gave him when you jumped, “He’s been spying on Manburg for Pogtopia.”

Alex reached for the book, flipping to the last page and reading allowed, “If there is ever a time to strike, it would be during the Manburg festival, though it is worth noting Wilbur’s plan of destroying L’Manburg should be put off as long as possible.”

“When I caught them in the tunnels under the city, they were talking about tnt,” You said, the shake in your voice all too real, as forced tears began to prick in your eyes, “Wilbur’s going to blow it up.”

Shlatt looked at you clearly searching for something, but giving up once you fully began to cry, turning to burry your face in your boyfriends shoulder.

The president sighed, annoyed, “Get them outta here Quackity, I can’t work when there's fucking crying in my office.”

“It’s probably just the stress, sir. I’ll get them home.” Alex carefully led you out of the white house, and you were grateful, unknowing how much of the emotion was real or not.

“Oh god! Is (y/n) okay?” Karl asked as soon as Alex had gotten you to where he was decorating party island.

“Yeah, they’ll uh- they’ll be alright. Shlatt, Manburg, stress, you know?” He eased you down to sit on one of the benches, and quickly Karl moved to sit and wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you guys tonight.” Alex quickly pecked at your cheek, and then Karl’s lips before heading back in the direction of the white house.

“What happened?” Karl asked softly once he had gone.

You sniffled, leaning into his embrace, “Work’s stuff. The festival’s getting stressful.”

“Yeah, well I’m helping Tubbo with the last of the decorating tomorrow,” He paused, “You’re missing Wilbur and Tommy aren’t you?”

You nodded, “I miss them and Techno and Phil. I miss home.”

Your duties as a spy didn’t entail much seeing your brothers, just taking down notes of what was going on in Manburg and leaving them in a remote chest for Wilbur to collect later.

“We all miss home. But think about it this way, if you hadn’t come here, you wouldn’t’ve found me, or Alex, or Nick,” Karl said, looking out at the rest of Manburg, “We wouldn’t have this place without you or your brothers, and even Shlatt can’t change that.”

You smiled a bit at that, “Thanks Karl.”

“And! You don’t have to worry about decorations for the festival cause I’m helping Tubbo with it tomorrow!”

Though it was meant to cheer you up you felt your heart sink lower, he and Nick still didn’t know, and wouldn’t about what would be planned for the festival, but hopefully Alex would understand the burden.

“So why is there a festival?”

Nick had just arrived back in Manburg from a while’s stay in the SMP, and was very confused by the posters lining the streets.

“Shlatt wants to celebrate democracy, so he’s had Tubbo and I organize a festival.” You explained.

He cocked an eyebrow, “And what does Wilbur think of this?”

Nick was still the only one who’d found out about your allegiances to Pogtopia, only by mistake, when he’d caught you making the journey back from the cavern.

“Wilbur thinks it’s an opportunity,” You sighed, quickly scribbling down a new messege to the boys, “Techno think’s it’s a waste of time and energy, the anarchist energy’s been shining through more and more lately.”

“So who do you agree with?” He asked carefully.

“Neither, Wilbur’s gone manic, Techno is- well he’s Technoblade, and Tommy just goes along with what Wil says.” You tucked each note into an envelope, folding them between the pages of the newest set of notes.

You looked up to meet Nick’s eyes, “I’m worried about what Friday will bring. I’ve tried to throw Shlatt off my trail and it seems like it’s working I just-”

You broke off as Nick wrapped his arms around you, “Hey, it’ll be okay. And if he tries anything, I’ll be there to protect you,” He chuckled, “Hell, maybe it’ll be the only time your brothers and I agree.”

“Maybe.” You mumbled.

“Woah! Are you guys cuddling without us?” Karl feigned shock as he came into the living room with Alex.

“I would never!” You forced a laugh.

“(y/n), come on, we’ve gotta go get ready to meet Shlatt.” Alex nudged you.

You sighed, starting to snuggle back into Nick’s grip, wishing the small amount of morning calm would last, “Do we have too?”

“Yeah, you know he won’t be happy if we’re late.”

You looked at Karl and Nick, still mostly asleep, and then back at him, quietly admitting, “I’m scared today could change everything.”

He sighed, immediately shifting back down into be, “I suppose we could stay a bit longer.”

Slowly, the other boys woke up, but the room remained in silence, as if everyone could feel the coming tension, as if even moving would shatter the peace of the day.

Carefully, Karl broke the silence, “We’re gonna be okay guys. The festival is gonna be awesome. Wilbur wouldn’t do anything to ruin it for (y/n).”

“If what they found out is true, you guys could all be at risk.” Alex murmured.

Nick sighed, “I don’t care who’s bad side I get on, it’s gonna be anything to keep you all safe.”

Each of you heard a different meaning behind his words, but still none of you spoke.

“Whatever happens today, we’ll make it through, the country, may not.” You said, voice wavering, but still with a note of finality.

By midday the festival was in full swing, and surprising your older brother had actually shown up for the festivities.

“Strange seeing you here,” You laughed, nudging him, “A celebration of a government.”

“It’d be rude to turn down an invitation ta one a these,” He sighed, glancing around, “Where’s your boyfriends hanging around at, I haven’t threatened them yet today.”

You chuckled, “Q’s helping Shlatt with the last of the prep for the speeches. Sapnap’s supposedly trying to figure a way to cheat Fundy’s dunk tank and Karl’s over there.” You gestured to where he, Tubbo, Sam and Bad were running around at Party Island.

“mmm, hey, uh, your note the other day, you weren’t serious about framing the kid right?”

You sucked in a breath, tightening the grip on the sword at your side, “It was him or Al- Quackity, I couldn’t do that to him. Whatever they’re planning I’m going to stop them.”

Techno look back at the stage warily, “I’ll back you up if I can.”

Soon everyone was being called to take there seats in the audience as you, Tubbo, Alex, and Shlatt took to the stage.

“Well everyone!” Shlatt addressed the crowd, “Thank you for coming to this wonderful celebration of democracy! Things sure have gotten bet around here, I’m gonna give the mic to Tubbo, the main organizer of this event, for his speech.”

Tubbo grinned, shuffling his notecards as he took Shlatt’s spot in front of the microphone, “Hello everyone! I’m honestly so excited to be here right now!”

As Tubbo rambled on about Wilbur and Tommy’s banishment, you stood back, wishing you could’ve stood on the same side of the stage as Alex.

Looking out over the crowd gathered you tried not to let your gaze wander to Tommy and Wilbur, who you knew were perched on the top of a near by building.

“And uh yeah! To democracy!” Tubbo concluded.

You could almost here Alex chuckle as he started to turn to the chest on the side of the stage, ready to grab the materials to box the boy in.

“That was nice, hey, uh, (y/n), dear (y/n), my secretary of state, I uh, I hate to put you on the spot here, but uh, why don’t you come up and make a speech?” You blood ran cold at Shlatts words.

On the other side of the stage Alex froze as well, out in the crowd no one suspect anything, so you clasped your hands behind your back to hide the tremors and moved in front of the microphone.

“Well, uh hi guys! I honestly didn’t except to be up here making a speech today, so I’m not quite sure if this will even turn out coherent,” You laughed, out of the corner of your eye you noticed Tommy tensing, “I remember, soon after I followed my brothers to this land, we fought in a war. L’manburg’s war for independence was long and hard, and I often thought we would never see a better time, but standing here, it is very clear to me that this country has changed since the election.

“This country, since gaining it’s independence has changed my life, and it weighs on my heart that My L’manburg has a ruler such as Mr. JShlatt. We fought for this land, my brothers and I, and here we are today, with so much progress made! So, my friends, my colleges, here's to Our L’manburg!”

Everyone began to cheer, only to be cut off my Shlatt’s harsh laugh, “Oh, (y/n), it’s Manburg now remember? or did you forget while you were off conspiring with your brothers in Pogtopia?”

Tubbo pushed a still frozen Alex out of the way to grab the materials, beginning to box you in.

“S- shlatt?” You quickly turned on the emotion, turning frantically as they caged you in, “Shlatt what are you talking about?”

“Shlatt what the hell are you doing?” Alex asked.

“Oh, you didn't know? Your partners a traitor!” Shlatt laughed again.

Alex turned to you, now trapped between the throne and the mic stand, looking betrayed.

“I didn’t do anything! Shlatt! Please!” Though a few days before most of the emotion had been real, but now you were thankful for your acting skills, blubbering, “Alex! Alex look at me it wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!”

Down in the stands Nick was halfway to standing, pushing Karl back down into his own seat.

“Or really? So that book wasn’t forged? That chest you used to pass messages? You tried to turn them against me!” Tubbo exclaimed.

“I didn’t- I- I would never betray my country!” You sobbed, forcing tears to leak from your eyes.

“Oh shut up,” Shlatt turned to the crowd, “Technoblade, front and center, get up here.”

Shakily Techno stood, quietly moving up to stand on the stage as Alex backed off the stage, looking between you and Shlatt with mixes of betrayal and shock.

“What uh, what you need me up here for Shlatt?”

“I want you to take care of them, make a public example.”

Techno coughed awkwardly, “You- you want me ta kill m’ sibling?”

“No!” You exclaimed, “Techno please...”

Shlatt glared at you, “Cut the crap (y/n)! We all know you aren’t actually this god damn emotional!”

Sapnap was fully in the isle now, sword drawn, and up on the roof You saw Wilbur clamping a hand over Tommy’s mouth to keep him to keep him from giving them away.

Sighing you wiped away the fake tears, “You have to admit, Shlatt, you believed me, you trusted me!”

Shlatt just rolled his eyes, “Techno get on it, snap too! I’ve got places to be.”

Techno slung his crossbow off his shoulder uncertainly, “(y/n)?”

All the fear from the morning came flooding back, but you shoved it down, leaning forward, to make eye contact with Shlatt, “You kill me now and nothing will change! This place will still go down hill and my brothers will still plot against you! All my secrets go down with me!”

“Shut your mouth and die already!”

Your nails dug into your palms, “Don’t make them watch Shlatt, have some mercy, if you want to kill me kill me, but don’t make my boys watch, don’t make Techno do it.”

“Get it over with!”

You leaned forward, gritting your teeth, “You heard the man, kill me.”

“(y/n), I can’t- you- yo- I-”

“Do it.” You hissed.

Time slowed, and Techno slowly raised the crossbow.

You looked out, past him, over the rolling fields of L’manburg, your home.

Niki out in the crowd wore a look of horror, hiding her face in Eret’s shoulder, who wore a simillar look for fear. Fundy wore a steely expression clearly close to breaking, Sam looked down right terrified, as Bad hid his eyes in his hands.

To your left Tubbo looked scared even though he’d put you in the cage, you were glad it was you and not him.

Shlatt wore his usual evil grin, pupil’s dilated.

Up on the roof, Tommy, your little brother looked horrified, Wilbur still holding him back with a neutral expression, Techno, now directly in front of you, was nearly in tears, your big brother, who swore to protect you, now being your end, it seemed almost poetic.

Behind him Nick was running up the isle, sword drawn, though you knew he’d be to late, Karl, lip quivering sat frozen, and Alex, his face still was filled with betrayal.

You looked up, took a deep breath and then time resumed, Techno pulled the trigger and everything went black.

{(y/n) went off with a bang}

It was cold.

Dark.

You didn’t now where you were as you drifted through a world you barley recognized.

Where was this?

How did you get there?

Vaguely you remembered a festival, your brothers, plus your boyfriends, oh how you loved them.

Your friends had been there too.

You looked back down to see L’manburg, ‘home!’ you thought happily.

You drifted towards your house, a voice in the back of your brain wondering, ‘why am I not walking?’

“What the fuck was that?” A loud voice cut through the air.

‘Nicky!’ you thought happily, following the sound.

“What the hell do you mean?”

‘Alex!’

You entered the room, finding them standing on opposite side, Karl, huddled in the corner.

“You are so fucking stupid! You know that? You let them die! They’re fucking dead because of you!”

“They were a fucking traitor! They got what was coming to them!”

“They loved you!” Nick screamed back, “They loved you and me and Karl, and their brothers! And now there gone! Because of You and Fucking Shlatt!”

What were they talking about?

“They fucking betrayed us! They betrayed Manburg! You saw the fucking acting they did! How do you know they ever loved us!”

From the corner Karl sobbed, and instinctively you moved to comfort him, but instead you passed right through.

‘what the hell?’

You had no time to dwell however because Nick shouted, “Etheir way you let them die! They’d be here if you’d interfered!”

“But I didn’t wooupdy do! They were a traitor!”

“They were trying to save their home!”

“WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD’VE CONSIDERED THAT I WAS TRYING TO BUILD IT UP!”

“You and Shlatt never did anything but tare this place to the ground.” It was only a whisper, but Nick’s words sent Alex spinning on his heel and heading out the door.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! I am aware that my best isn’t good enough! So fuck you!”

The door slammed, and Nick only blinked a moment before Karl quietly asked, “Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Now he’s gone too!”

Karl’s voice made your heart shatter.

“You think that’s my fault?! Clearly he didn’t give a shit about us, or them, other wise he would’ve stopped Shlatt.”

“They said we’d be okay! But we’re not!” Karl sobbed.

“I can fucking see that! God damn Karl! What did you except?”

“I-”

Before he could finish the door was slamming again.

Karl leaned back against the wall, staring straight through you whispering, “Why did you have to go (y/n/n)? You only just brought us together! We only just figured it out.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #teddy06 writes

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yukimoji · 4 years

Text

My World: Part 3 ( Tanjiro Kamado x Reader )

( a/n: hello! welcome to part 3 and the final part of the “my world” series! this became longer than i had initially expected, i apologize deeply for that. also, i'm sorry if it seemed like i shitted on kanao too much, im so sorry bby i still love u. take note there will be grammar errors and typos, bec im blind and i always seem to miss those errors rip. thank you all for following “my world”, and i hope you all enjoy! )

(also, how do u even write angst?? i tried my best and i hope ya’ll dont get too disappointed with my poor excuse of angst lololol)

Part 1 I 2 I 3

Total words: 6600+ words

Genre: Angst and Fluff

!!MAJOR, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Warnings: Mentions of blood

With each passing day, it felt like you were getting closer towards the edge of the line.

In a dark tunnel, you stood there, wandering aimlessly towards the light that could not be even seen for miles and miles. An endless loop of nothingness, as the feeling of dread, terror, and fear consumes you from the hidden depths of your mind.

You hoped and wished that one day you could see even a tiny glimpse of what lies ahead of you. Wondering if there's more to it than the endless bloodshed and horrors you've seen hundreds of times now.

But then, suddenly, a warm entity started to walk alongside you. A feeling as warm as the bright rays of the morning sun, and an inexplicable feeling of something accompanying you on your endless journey.

Even when immersed in darkness, the underlying warmth seemed to radiate from that figure. There was a tinge of happiness in your harsh world that made the road to the unseen light seem less lonely than before.

However, with every step, the distant light gets dimmer and darker.

And the warm feeling beside you blazes into a raging, roaring, sea of fire.

The morning after you received the heartfelt letter from Tanjiro, word broke out that Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu had defeated Lower Moon One.

You were rejoiced to hear that your comrades had defeated another member of the Twelve Demon Moons. When you heard the news for the first time, you promptly darted to find the nearest pen and paper to congratulate the trio. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when your Kasugai Crow screeched out the status of the Hashira that the trio had accompanied.

Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame Hashira, has died after an encounter with Upper Moon Three.

Your eyes were as big as saucers, as you stood there in shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Upper Moon 3? Hashira? Dead?

You've never really had a proper conversation with the Flame Hashira, but you've had high respects for him. The way he would hold his sword with pride and his never-ending sense of justice would always bring hope to you and your fellow slayers. You could still remember the words of encouragement he would say every time he would have encountered the lower ranks like you.

"Always set your heart ablaze!"

Hearing about the death of such an important figure in the Demon Slayer Corps made you tighten your jaw. Your hand clenches at the thought of someone so kind and strong had died of such a painful death. You inhaled tiny and long breaths as you try to calm yourself down from the frustration rising in your veins.

He would've wanted his death to inspire the Demon Slayers to fight harder, and you will. His fate will not be in vain as long as the Demon Slayer Corps will continue fighting on.

If you feel angry, you could only imagine as to how Tanjiro felt. Knowing the boy, he would've befriended and had grown attached to the fallen Hashira. Your face contorted into one of sadness. He would be distraught, seeing the Flame Hashira die in front of his very eyes.

You glanced at the paper and the pen at the corner of your vision, and decided to write to the Hanafuda-clad slayer. You went to grab the items and sat down to start writing your letter.

You couldn't be there to physically comfort him, you were too far away. You prayed that this letter would suffice, as you could not do anything more to console the Burgundy-haired boy.

Tanjiro made his way back towards the Butterfly Estate, after visiting the Rengoku Estate to deliver Kyojuro-san's final wishes. He gazed at the katana guard that was given to him by Senjoru, Kyojuro-san's little brother. He sighs sadly at the thought of the Flame Hashira, his words echoing in his mind.

"Live on and set your heart ablaze!"

Breathing out softly, his Crimson-hues looks upwards to the sky, staring at the moving clouds high above.

"CAW! A MESSAGE! A MESSAGE FOR KAMADO TANJIRO!"

"Yaah!" Tanjiro yells out in surprise at his crow's loud screeching, but his expression brightened at the sight of a letter attached to it's legs. He then puts his arm out to let the crow land on it.

"Thank you!" He affectionately pats the head of the crow, and proceeds to take the letter placed delicately on it's legs. The crow screeches once more, and takes off.

Tanjiro looks at the crow flying away, and returns his gaze towards the letter in his hands. He reads the message written in it, and can't help a smile forming from his lips.

"What can be done, is for us to not let it define our days to come. We can choose to heal, whilst bearing the scars, whether alone or with someone precious.

For as long as you want me to, I will be here for you."

I read that somewhere, but I couldn't remember where, hehe.

I'm sorry for what happened. I can't imagine what you're feeling, but I will always be here for you. Rengoku-san will not be forgotten, and he will always live in our hearts and memories.

Be kind to yourself, Tanjiro. You mean the whole world to me.

- [ L / N ] [ Y / N ]

Tanjiro chuckles softly at the letter, and holds it close to his chest. He sniffles as he flutters his eyes close, the corners of his mouth turning up into a thankful grin.

"Thank you, [ Y / N.]"

Months pass, another mission comes by after the completion of another mission. As the weeks gone by, you could find yourself growing stronger each passing day.

During your time apart, you and Tanjiro would often exchange letters. Usually, it was him describing his missions in full detail and how Zenitsu and Inosuke were doing as they worked alongside with each other. Every now and then, little scratches and odd pen marks will decorate the surface of the paper, which you could only assume is Nezuko's doing.

You, on the other hand, would also write about your missions. Occasionally, you would tell him about random stuff, little things on your mind as you go about your day.

One thing remains constant, though. The two of you would always end a letter with a heartfelt sentence that became your little way of saying "I love you" for each other.

"You mean the whole world to me."

Today, me, Inosuke, and Zenitsu went to Yoshiwara with Uzui-san. He basically forced us to come with him, because he wouldn't stop harassing the poor girls back at the Butterfly Estate if we didn't go. He said he was looking for his three wives, as they stopped contacting him after going undercover to find a demon in the district. Can you believe it? Three wives?!

When we arrived, Uzui-san immediately dressed us up as girls and we were sent off to brothels where we could hopefully find the demon causing havoc in the area. Honestly, I'm kind of glad that you weren't here to see me. Not because I don't want you to be with me, no no no! I actually miss you so much and I just want see you again and I just-

It's because I looked absolutely ridiculous! Seriously, it was a miracle that I was able to pass up as a girl!

Anyway, it's my first night here, and so far, there's no sign of a demon. There's been rumors going around about young women suddenly committing suicide without explanation. There's something fishy going on around here, that's for sure.

I'm going to end my letter here. Tomorrow's another day, and we will do our best to make this mission a success.

Stay safe, [ Y / N ].

You mean the whole world to me.

- Kamado Tanjiro

Of course, there were moments where you were worried sick for the boy. When news broke out that the Sound Pillar and the trio defeated Upper Moon 6 in the Red Light District, you were absolutely ecstatic. Another Upper Moon had been slain, and you couldn't be more proud for the trio.

That is, until Tanjiro abruptly stopped sending letters.

During those moments, you could only send letters to the Butterfly Estate, asking about Tanjiro's health and condition. You tried not to get your emotions get the best you, but you couldn't help it. Not when Tanjiro was laying in a bed, unconscious, and out of your reach.

You found comfort of the letters that replied to you. Kanao, the Butterfly Pillar's Tsuguko, started writing back to you, and kept you up-to-date of Tanjiro's well-being that would soothe your anxious nerves. You were thankful for her, as she would always write back to you every night without fail.

Gradually, you began to get to know her, and eventually thought of her as a friend. Since she was a little shy, you gladly told her about your days and endless missions, and maybe a little bit of jokes and puns to lighten up her day.

It wasn't long too until she started talking about the things she liked, like how she enjoys blowing soap bubbles and considers it a hobby. She would also talk about how she likes sweets and accessories, squishing cat paws and helping with the cooking at the Butterfly Estate.

Who knew, that the girl who wrecked you mercilessly during your Rehabilitation training was actually such a lovely and adorable girl who enjoyed the little things in life?

When Tanjiro finally recovered, you never stopped sending letters to Kanao. She was a fun pen pal and a friend to have, because she would listen to each time you would either rant about your day or just say some dumb puns when you're too bored to function.

One day, Tanjiro told you that he was going to the Swordsmith Village to ask for a replacement for his sword. That night, he spoke of how the Love Pillar and the Mist Pillar were present in the village, and how he had the chance of speaking to Genya Shinazugawa, the Wind Pillar's younger brother.

For days on end, the Crimson-eyed slayer would tell you about a training doll that mimicked the strongest Demon Slayer who ever lived. He would rant endlessly, telling you about a swordsmith who trained him to the bone without food and water. He told you, one day, he accidentally smashed the doll into pieces, revealing a worn and old sword hidden inside of it.

You snickered, and you could already hear Tanjiro's voice, which was loaded with panic and anxiety, just by reading the contents of his letters.

You were pleasantly shocked the next day, when your Crow announced the news of the deaths of Upper Moon Five and Upper Moon Four.

Tanjiro was like a magnet for the Upper Moons, and you can't help but feel a heavy sensation in the depths of your stomach.

It felt like the calm before the storm, as after Tanjiro's experience in the Swordsmith Village, there was a rapid decline in Demon activity all across the country.

However, it seemed like the crow didn't exactly tell you everything regarding the Village's aftermath.

After what seemed like forever, you made your way back to the Butterfly Estate. Since demons have not been running all over the place, there weren't as much many missions as there was before. Your crow yelled at you to go back to the estate, but hey, you weren't complaining about that.

You couldn't contain the excitement, a giddy expression ever present on your face. Each step brought you closer to your destination, and as the Estate finally presented itself to your vision, you practically skipped your way in order to reach the area faster.

You heard shouting in the distance. There were cries of panic, seemingly asking someone to come back. You didn't stop your hurried pace, but your eyes widened in both joy and shock when you saw the familiar raven locks of your demon friend, who was now running towards you at full speed.

In broad daylight.

"[ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]! [ Y/N ]!" Nezuko cries out in joy, jumping at you with all of her strength. You couldn't react on time as she lands on you, and the both of you tumbled to the ground. She was hugging you, a hand affixed on top of your head, patting it relentlessly.

"Oof! Hi, Nezuko!" You laughed at her antics, and hugged her back without hesitation.

You were confused, that's for sure. Even though you were absolutely overjoyed to see your friend, your mind was screaming confused thoughts on how on earth she was able to hug you underneath the blazing sun. Not only that, she was not wearing her usual bamboo muzzle and she spoke your name! She actually spoke! Her voice was absolutely adorable!

"Welcome back!" She cheered happily, and you already feel yourself melt into a puddle at how cute she was acting. She continued to nuzzle onto you, and you felt a sense of pride knowing that an incredibly cute and sweet girl was aggressively showering you with love and affection.

"EH?! [ Y / N ]'S BACK! SHE'S BACK!" You snapped your head to the source, and beamed at the sight of Zenitsu calling out to the residents of the estate, signalling your arrival.

"It's nice to see you again, Zenitsu!" You called out and waved at him, a bright smile present on your face. You couldn't really move, not when Nezuko wasn't done hugging you and spoiling you rotten with her affection.

Zenitsu's eyes widened for a second, until he began jumping around and screaming out a series of chants like the madman he is.

"REALLY? IT'S REALLY NICE TO SEE ME AGAIN?! AW! DON'T FLATTER ME, [ Y / N ]! YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME BEFORE THAT YOU HELD ME IN SUCH A HIGH REGARD! YOU KNOW, IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO ASK FOR MY HAND IN MARRIAGE!"

Your smile began to fade, and you could look at him with utter dismay as he proceeded to yell out nonsense.

But then, a familiar voice calls out. The voice that you've yearned to hear for months, as it makes your heart skip a beat as it gets louder and closer.

Tanjiro comes out from the estate, looking around frantically, a desperate expression evident in his gentle features. He looks at your direction and he goes stiff as a statue the moment he locks eyes with you. His eyes began to water, his lower lip quivering from the sight of you.

He races up to you, rivaling with the pace Nezuko had when she assaulted you. Instantaneously, he engulfs you in his loving embrace, and you couldn't hold back your giggles and laughter as he proceeded to wreak havoc on your face with little kisses.

Nezuko lets out a sound of pleasure and releases her hold on you. She watched her brother as he coddled you with so much attention, and she clapped happily at the sight.

After what seemed like ages, Tanjiro stopped attacking your face with kisses and raised a hand to softly caress your cheek. His crimson-hues looked at you with so much passion and adoration, and you gazed at him lovingly in reciprocation.

Slowly he leans in to you, his forehead brushing yours. The corners of his mouth are pulled up, a ridiculously goofy expression adoring his features. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the close proximity to his face, but still, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster up.

He chuckles and closes his eyes, nuzzling on you as he holds you in his arms protectively.

"I missed you. So, so much." He breathes out, and you giggle as his warm breath fans your flushed face.

"I missed you too, you big baby." You fluttered your [ E / C ] close, holding him tight and not wanting to let go.

After months of hardship, stress, and pain, you find yourself once again welcomed by your home and your world.

You spent the next few days roaming around the estate, with Tanjiro beside you, holding your hand at every moment. Not just that, you've got to spend time in the garden with Nezuko again! Only this time, you were accompanied by the presence of Zenitsu, Inosuke, and even Kanao!

Each day was filled with laughter and joy. Even when the Hashiras decided to train every slayer in harsh training routines, your happiness never faded. Given the sweat and soreness of your muscles as you shift from one Hashira to another, you would always be rewarded with the sight of the bright stars shining brightly over all of you.

But one day, that happiness seemed to fade away. The devastation and cruelty that you had faced before came back from the ashes of the past, as each second escalated into the catastrophic hell that you were now forced to face.

One night, every Hashira unexpectedly went on a high alert. You couldn't understand what was going on, and you were even more perplexed when Tanjiro suddenly asked you to stay alert and left in a haste. You stood beside the campfire, confused, and you couldn't control the familiar feeling of dread swallowing you up again.

Your instinct was telling you that something terrible and unprecedented was about to happen. Your heart was thumping uncontrollably on your chest, as you started to sweat and tremble from the overwhelming feeling of uncertainty that made shivers run up to your spine.

Unfortunately, your fears were confirmed when a loud explosion was heard in the distance.

You gasped, as you felt the ground suddenly disappear. You couldn't respond quickly, your mind spinning out of control as you fell down to a fortress filled with demons that seemed to stretch out forever.

You breath hitched as you came back to your senses. You looked around, trying to find something or somewhere that could end your endless free fall. You felt a sense of hope as an area where you could land safely came into view. Your eyebrows were knit together, mouth clenching as you performed a breathing technique and landed swiftly at the edge of the structure.

The moment you landed, demons started to flock towards you. Your blood began to boil, rage rapidly overcoming you. You unsheathed out your sword, tightened your grip on the handle, and immediately slashed your way through the hordes of demons. It was then you realized, that it was the beginning of the end, and that it was going to be a long night.

In a blink of an eye, smiles turned into anger, laughter turned into screams, as what was once happiness was now destroyed and replaced by rage and anguish.

And whenever happiness is destroyed,

There's always the smell of blood.

Hours of endless bloodshed. Thousands upon thousands of casualties had rained upon the ranks of the Demon Slayer Corps. You had seen the brutal fighting with your very own eyes, and the rage only intensified with each life taken by the hands of those ruthless demons.

The Twelve Demon Moons had perished. But at the cost of their heads, were the lives of your mentors, comrades, and friends.

However, it finally seemed like their sacrifices were not in vain.

The sun had risen, and Muzan Kibutsuji howled out in pain as the sun's fiery rays started to burn him. He had taken the form of a large, hideous baby, as he desperately tries to hide away from the sun's burning gaze.

Almost everybody was severely injured; there were severed limbs, large gashes, and heavily bleeding wounds.

Despite the overwhelming pain, the remaining slayers continued to fight on, too high on adrenaline and determination in order to bring Muzan to his demise. Everybody held on, performing everything they could do to make the Demon King roast under the sunlight and suffer for his crimes.

Right now, you were driving a bus, speeding towards the crawling abomination. You slammed on the pedals, accelerating at full speed as you rammed into the enormous, yet horrific excuse of a baby.

"Stay down, you bastard!" You yelled out, a dangerous glint twinkling in your eyes as you couldn't help the sides lips tugging up into smug smirk.

You jumped out of the vehicle right before a big hand smashed the front portion, as a voice commands you and nearby Kakushi to push the back portion to block Muzan from moving further. You all gathered together and pushed with all your remaining strength, yells of determination echoing out to stop Muzan from going further.

Your eyes widen as a large hand rises, but before he could smash you all into pieces, the Wind Pillar successfully cut off it's hand on time. You all continued to push, but Muzan was starting to overpower you all and was slowly going over the vehicle.

Then, you heard the loud clank of chains, and saw the monster stumble back as a large chain had wrapped itself on the demon's neck, forcing him to stay in place. You all moved out, and went to the Stone Pillar, aiding him by holding him in place as he uses all his power to grip unto the chains in order to pin the beast down. Muzan hollered out, as he continued to burn under the sun.

Determined to find shade and escape death, the huge monstrosity resorted to dig himself into the earth. The Hashiras then took turns attacking the abomination, attempting to wear off its stamina. All hope seemed lost, as the chains, and all of your energy rapidly depleted as Muzan continued his struggle.

Then, against all odds, the demon throws his head back in a final, ear piercing scream. Gigantic tears fell down from it's hideous face, and after what seemed like eternity, it's body finally crumbled into nothingness.

There was a pause. You all held your breath, the heavy tension in the air suffocating you all. Disbelief was evident on your faces, as you could not properly process what had just gone down.

Then, you all erupted into loud yells of victory.

Muzan is dead. The Demon Slayers had won.

You all cried out in happiness. Centuries of battle, bloodshed, and death finally bearing its fruit. Everyone embraced each other, beaming smiles present in every slayer's face as the shouts of triumph echoed across the battlefield.

"It's not over yet!" A Kakushi yells out, "Stand up! Treat the wounded! Don't cry, you fools, stay focused! We can save them!" You all looked around, and saw the bodies of several Hashira and Demon Slayers slumped up all around. The celebration ceased as everybody started to scatter; newly found strength flooding them as they sought out to save the heavily injured.

In your peripheral vision, you saw Kanao hunched up and unconscious, and she was being tended by several Kakushi. You ran up to her, and your jaw clenched as you observed the injuries and blows she had taken. You kneeled down, and asked for one of them for bandages so you could help patch up your friend.

As you started to wrap up some of Kanao's injuries, lilac hues started to flutter open. She takes a moment to look at her surroundings, and when she sees you and a few Kakushi patching her up, her lips formed a small yet grateful smile.

"...Thank you."

Your eyes darted to look up to the voice, you gasped in relief and your expression brightened as Kanao weakly gives you a wry smile.

You stared at her, the corners of your mouth tugging up and your eyes flickering with gratitude. After wrapping her wounds, you gently took her hand and encased it with your own.

"We won, Kanao." You whispered. Shutting your eyes close, you recalled the memories of how hard she fought against Muzan, along with Zenitsu, Inosuke, and the Hashiras. The ravenette just paused, and her mouth falling open as she was reflecting on what you had just told to her. Then, she breathes out in delight, and slowly raised her other hand to caress your own. Kanao's whole face lit up, and she beams at you, nodding her head in appreciation.

But then, suddenly, in the corner of her vision, something captures Kanao's attention. She stiffened, and her hand started to tremble under your gentle hold. Her forehead furrowed and she struggled to find her voice.

" [ Y - Y / N ]-chan..!"

You opened your [ E / C ] eyes, and glanced at your friend's facial features. You grew concerned, trying to make sense as to why she was shaking and sweating so much. Then, loud shouts began to echo and you felt a heavy sensation start to enclose your chest. You started to tremble, the loud yells becoming more frantic by each second. The feeling of dread returned, seemingly to taunt you as goosebumps rapidly washed over you. The girl returned her attention to your bewildered expression, her lilac orbs filled with worry and regret.

You hesitantly turned around and looked to where Kanao had her gaze on to figure out the source of her behavior. Instantaneously, your eyebrows elevated, a hand immediately clasping your mouth. Your eyes welled up in tears and the cries of distress escaped away as you stomached in the scene before you.

You stared ahead to meet the figure of your beloved Tanjiro.

But he didn't look like your Tanjiro.

A beast roared out, screaming and assaulting any being that was attempting to get close to him. You saw a glimpse of Zenitsu and Inosuke trying to hold back your transformed lover, the Water Pillar frantically yelling orders not get close to the boy, but to no avail.

It felt like the whole world had shattered right before your very eyes. You struggled to swallow back the bile rising to your throat, your breathes becoming more erratic as the hot tears endlessly fall from your eyes. You become absolutely racked with sobs, the heavy feeling on your chest intensifying to the point of suffocating you.

"Stop crying!" You mentally scold yourself. "Now is not the time to cry! You have to help! You have to save him!"

But you couldn't move. You couldn't speak. You couldn't do anything but wail out in absolute heartbreak as Tanjiro further succumbed into hysteria.

No matter how hard you tried, your feet were glued to the ground. Your mind hurled insults, screaming at you to step forward, to run, and try to save your beloved. You could only look up to the heavens, reciting a silent prayer pleading to every Deity who was listening to stop this madness.

In the midst of your emotional turmoil, you have flashes of what once was. You recall how Tanjiro would hold you in moments of peace, how his eyes would fill up with tenderness and love whenever you locked eyes with him, and how his beaming smile seemed to brighten up even your darkest days.

Your heart continues to pound painfully in your chest as you gasp out endless incoherent breathes. You could hear his loving voice resonate in your head, your cries becoming more erratic at the thought that you could never hear his warmth-filled sound again.

"You mean the whole world to me, [ Y / N ]."

You could only look helplessly as the now human Nezuko began to cry out to her corrupted brother, holding him in place so that he could no longer hurt more people. Tanjiro continued to screech and thrash in the sister's grasp, his screams releasing powerful waves of energy that would blowed away anyone who had even dared to come near him.

Zenitsu and Inosuke were swept away by the strong shockwaves, but Nezuko never weakened her grasp, as she continues to hold on to her brother desperately. Tanjiro dropped down, the sound of the tearing cloth ringing around as massive and sharp tentacles exploded out of his back. Zenitsu cries out, terror overtaking his face as he desperately reaches out to save Nezuko.

But something still puzzles you. Your stomach still twisted at the sight of Nezuko bleeding, but what was perplexing was that Tanjiro declined to bite his sister. Even though he had a taste of his sister's blood, he resisted and refused to attack her.

Maybe, just maybe, your Tanjiro was still there, fighting to break free from his eternal prison.

"[ Y / N ]-chan." Kanao calls out. You snap out of you emotional daze and faced the girl. She looked at you with a hopeful expression, and she takes out a small box from her belt.

"We can still save him..." She starts, opening the box to reveal an injection. "My master gave this to me, and she said that this is medicine made out of Wisteria flowers that could turn demons back into humans."

Kanao coughs up blood, her face scrunching up as she groans out in discomfort. She stumbles forward because of the pain, and you instantly hold her to prevent her from falling to the ground. She looks up to you, and gives you a sad smile.

"Tanjiro turned into a demon just now. Even if I could evade his attacks with one eye, my injuries could get the best of me." She coughs again, placing a hand to her re-opened wound on her waist. She takes your hand and places the injection on it.

"There's still time, [ Y / N ]. Tanjiro loves you too much to even raise a hand at you."

You looked down at the injection, your eyes filled with renewed determination. You nodded in agreement, then took long breaths to calm yourself down. You knew what you needed to do, and now, you could save him.

You wiped the trails of dried tears on your face, eyebrows drewn together as your expression hardened. Tightening your grip on the object, you stood up and turned around to confront Tanjiro.

"Thank you." You breathed out, forever grateful to Kanao for giving you this oppurtunity.

You inhaled deeply, oxygen rapidly flooding your veins. You could feel your muscles become stronger each second, as adrenaline fills you once more. Bursts of energy traveled all across your body, giving you the courage and power you needed to pull this off. You focused your strength on your legs, and in a flash, you dashed towards your lover.

"Tanjiro.."

The demon takes notice of a presence rapidly approaching him. He growls and turns his attention towards you. Scowling, he screeches loudly, tentacles aggressively whipping around at all angles to attack you.

"When this is all over, let's make our own world,"

You looked up to meet his eyes, and you were with scarlet ones, which were filled with hatred and rage. Your breathe hitches momentarily as a shiver ran up to your spine.

"A world where no one could tears us apart."

Tanjiro had never looked at you with such hostility before. However, you didn't let that faze you as you continuously dodged his never ending assaults against you.

"Enough is enough, Tanjiro."

You jumped and evaded the whips his tentacles threw at you. Then, an opening presents itself, your eyes dilating and you bolted even closer until you came face to face with the demon.

"You musn't make Nezuko cry."

Tanjiro howls out loudly, and he raises a hand with the intent to smash you. You quickly caught the glimpse of his clenched fist, and you leapt, avoiding his arm as it plunged downwards with such speed and strength.

"Come back to us, and you won't be ever lost again,"

You swore everything looked like it was in slow motion. In that moment, a bright light engulfed your surroundings. Your body flew above the demon, and when his back came into full view, you immediately pushed the cure into him. Tears shone in your [ E / C ] orbs, as a love-filled smile appeared on your features.

You didn't even feel the pain when a rouge tentacle managed to successfully pierce itself into you. Your tender gaze never left the boy, and you finally breathed out in relief. You fluttered your eyes close, and you tumbled helplessly against the surface.

"You are the whole world to me."

"[ Y / N]!" Nezuko calls out to you, her face contorted into one of pure horror as she watches your body make harsh contact with the ground.

Suddenly, Tanjiro stops moving. His tentacles ceased it's assaults, and slowly, but surely, it retreats back into his body. The boy to started to shake uncontrollably, exhaling out heavy breathes as his eyes trembled wildly as he stares at the sight of your injured body.

With all the remaining strength you could muster up, you looked up to the demon. Instead of the hatred and rage you had saw moments ago, Tanjiro's Scarlet-hues were filled with regret. Tears ran down his cheeks, sadness clouding over his demonic features.

You inhaled softly, and with each passing moment, you saw his eyes slowly turn back into the Crimson colored orbs that you loved so much. As seconds pass by, your vision began to darken. Exhaling out in exhaustion, you felt thankful that you get to see a glimpse of your Tanjiro once more. You heard loud shouts resound through the field, feeling something tending to your wounds before your sight was further consumed by darkness as you fell into unconsciousness.

" -Ma..?"

" -Ma!"

"Mama!"

You jolt up in surprise, trying to catch your breath as cold sweat falls down from the side of your face.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, and you could find yourself sitting in a bench that was located at an open lake. Sakura trees were abundant, and their beauty was obviously not overlooked as pink blossoms flew around with the cool spring breeze. Flora was flourishing all over, and the sounds of the little animals living in the lake was prominent.

A nightmare? You thought. Sighing deeply, you let yourself fall back in the bench where you were sitting on. A small hand shakes on your own frantically, as you turned your head and smiled softly as a gigantic pair of eyes, clearly filled with worry, gazed into your own.

"I'm sorry, Takeo. Did Mama scare you?" You chuckled, as the child in front of you pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Stop dozing off like that! I was really worried when you started to cry in your sleep again!" Takeo exclaims out, puffing out his cheeks as he stomped on his foot in annoyance.

You laughed at his antics, your melodic voice echoing across the peaceful lake. You leaned forward and raised a hand to gently pat your son's head. The boy looked almost the same as you, seeing as he inherited your complexion, your facial features, and even your [H / C] hair.

There was one thing, though, that distinguished him from looking like a complete carbon copy of you.

He had Crimson colored eyes that he inherited from his father.

Takeo continues to huff out in annoyance, but he couldn't fight the flush rising up to his face from your act of affection towards him. Whether he was going to deny it or not, it was an irrefutable fact that he loved getting his head pats. As you observed Takeo's features, you felt warmth and tenderness embracing your chest. You pulled your hand away from his head and just chuckled at his failed attempts of trying to look angry at you.

"Papa asked me to fetch you, ya know.." Takeo mumbles, his Crimson-orbs looking away from you in embarrassment. "He says that Aunt Nezuko and Uncle Zenitsu are coming over today, along with Uncle Inosuke and Aunt Kanao. He figured that you would be glad to see them again."

"I see." You whispered. Your mouth slowly into a grin, and you nodded gratefully. You felt excitement and joy bubble up in you, as you beamed brightly to your son. "Thank you, Takeo. I'm absolutely delighted to hear that they're coming to visit today."

Slowly, you stood up from the bench, one hand holding on your son's arm for support and the other caressing your swollen belly. You looked up to the heavens, eyes sparkling with gratitude as a thankful sigh escaped from your lips. You shifted your attention away from the blue sky, and softly held your son's hand as you began your way back home.

"Let's go home, shall we?"

Once upon a dream, you never thought the possibility of true love coming to you all your life.

Growing up in a demon infested world, life seemed to be fond of throwing you into hardships and struggle. Despite the horrors of the world, you always persevered. For every challenge that has been hurled towards you, the tribulations have only made you grow stronger and better.

Your life may had started out roughly, but that doesn't mean that it did not change for the better. The endless bloodshed had become relics of the past, moments of time that helped shape the world as it is now.

Recalling those moments of uncertainty, the rays of sunlight peeking through what was once the dark and gloomy clouds had now completely engulfed your life with warmth and tenderness. What you once wanted to experience all those years ago, has now become your reality. The little bits of happiness that you yearned for, now held onto you, never wanting to leave any time soon.

As you get closer to your home, you could hear the voices of children laughing and playing. Soon, you saw a glimpse of your humble abode, and little kids that looked similarly to you and your husband came into view. Takeo releases his hold on you, and he excitedly makes his way towards his siblings. Your expression brightened, a permanent smile present on your face as you took in the sight of your children frolicking around with happiness evident in their faces.

Then, a warm hand snakes over your waist, pulling you towards a broad chest that belonged to your lover. You couldn't contain your giggles as your face was immediately assaulted by small pecks and kisses. His hanafuda earrings seemed to ring each time he moved his head, his long ponytail swaying alongside with the cool breeze. His crimson-eyes gleamed in adoration as he gazes into your own, an adorable grin affixed in his lips as he continued to lock you in his protective embrace.

Sakura petals flew all around, encasing your surroundings with a sense of peace and serenity. After years of struggle, you can finally wake up in the morning without the likelihood of a horrible and painful death looming over you, as your cruel and dark world was now behind you.

Those dark days were long over. Now that you had finally avenged your family and the numerous deaths Muzan Kibutsuji has inflicted upon humanity, you could finally spend the rest of your life in peace.

Now, you had finally found a place to call your home. With him, you had created a whole new world. A world that was overflowing with love and happiness. Now that he would always stay by your side, you won't have to be lost anymore.

Tanjiro lifts up a hand to softly caress your cheek, gazing at you with so much love and adoration. The corners of his mouth quirked up as he fluttered his eyes close and slowly leaned forward. Your expression softened, and you chuckled softly as you put your arms around his shoulders. Your eyelids close shut as you felt your chest swell up with so much emotion, as his lips finally captured yours into a love-filled kiss.

"You are the whole world to me, [ Y / N]."

( a/n: thank you, thank you, thank you so much for following “my world”! it means so much to me that some of you had taken a liking on this series :’D im sorry if there were mistakes and ooc-ness along the way;;;

thank you for reading, and stay safe! you all mean the whole world to me <3)

#tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #tanjiro kamado #tanjirou kamado #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #kny #kimetsu no yaiba tanjirou #reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba imagines

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obx-snippets · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 ∫ ≈ Rush Hour and New Friends

Summary: Reina finds herself flustered on her first day of work. And the Pogues make quite the first impression on her when she has to take their order.

Warning: light cursing? That’s about it....

Word count: 3.5k

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!oc

Masterlist

a/n: I probably should have mentioned this in the beginning but this series is a...

SUPER S L O W B U R N.

So enjoy! Feel free to ask to be tagged!

Reina's limbs were growing weak at the speed she was going down the lengthy sidewalk along an empty road. To her dismay, every corner of the island seems to be next to a beach, and the only sound that was able to come at par with the wind muffling her ears was the beating waves. She regretted not bringing her cassette with her; the music would have gone nicely with the Kildare county atmosphere. It might have also helped with her rapid heartbeat, wishing the ocean would just disappear. Nature sprouted from every corner, various people making their way down the opposite sidewalk to shop at different vendors. They seemed relaxed for the most part, but then again, many of them worked for their share, and the mask they wore wasn't fooling Reina. She wore the same one all too often.

Too deep in thought, she nearly missed the sign that read 'the Wreck' and came to a skidding stop, her body slightly jolting forward as she gripped her bike's handlebars. The wind from the ocean brought her hair to blow in her face as she dipped her eyes down to her phone, her GPS reading arrived.

After finding a comfortable place to park her bike, she made her way up a wooden ramp to enter the restaurant's threshold. The closer she got, the slower her pace as she heard a mix of rowdiness coming from inside. It was just her luck that the Wreck was extremely busy and evidently short on staff. Reina heaved around a few people who were waiting in line to be seated. Customers were grumbling among themselves, complaining about how the food had better be the best they've ever tasted if they had to wait that long. It was breakfast hour, and that was when people were the crankiest.

She blew air from her mouth once she made it to the front desk, a few customers muttering how she cut. Smoke from the kitchen just in front of her filled her nostrils, and her eyes brightened with delight. Only two men were hard at work, one with his belly hanging out from his stained white shirt while another tall man with tanned amber skin cutting fruit relentlessly. And with skill.

Reina was enthralled in the dynamic that she hadn't noticed how far she was leaning over the counter to watch everything they were doing. The taller man briefly looked over his shoulder before noticing the ripped paper wedged between her knuckles.

"Hey!" the man called over the spiel going around the crowded restaurant and the clinking of pot being moved about, continuing his cutting on a pineapple. Reina snapped her attention to the man, slightly embarrassed that she had been staring so long. "You Chris and Mina's kid?"

Reina shrugged, "Well technically, stepdaughter but uh--same thing yeah, that's me." she skipped the specifics of it all, not wanting to cause the man's forehead to crease more than it already was. "I uh--I came for the interview..." she looked down at the paper, about to ask about the cooking job when he suddenly advanced toward her.

"You a good cook?" he questioned sternly, almost hopeful. His eyes were desperate, sweat already trickling down his forehead.

"Absolutely," her confident answer came out almost immediately, making the man smile. She would cook all day if it meant not facing the water that was just a few hundred feet away from her. Even over the uproar in the open restaurant, she could still hear the waves taunting her like a dark, menacing laugh.

A toothpick twisting between his lips, he tapped his fingers harshly against the counter, contemplating if he should let a new teenager take part in his kitchen. "Fuck it, get in, kid." he pointed to the other side of the counter for her to enter. He didn't miss the ever-growing smile touching her lips as she hustled around the counter, already pulling her hair into the messiest low bun before washing her hands thoroughly. "Start cracking them eggs and beat 'em'. We got an order waiting at table five."

Reina's whole demeanor changed. She was locked in and moving like a ballerina, careful not to bump into anyone as she veered about to collect seasoning for the eggs. The tall man, which she learned went by the name of Mr. Carrera, watched her intently. All he had to do was tell her the recipe once, and she was already whipping everything up by memory. So much so that she served the waited tables in under an hour. It seemed the frequent customers took notice of the new girl as well; her sweet smile was inviting like she had been doing this her whole life. Reina was known to be more easy-going around adults compared to kids her age. She was the life of the party back in Cali, extremely outgoing and adrenaline-driven. But since the incident, she felt more comfortable being in her own reserved shell.

Mr. Carrera wasn't the only one noticing the girl's natural skill in the kitchen. Kiara Carrera led the way into her father's restaurant, her fellow pogues trailing behind like hungry puppies. Harlow Westwick struggled to keep up as they hadn't waited for her to tie her shoelaces, and she nearly tripped forward before finding her balance again.

"Woof," John B furrowed his brows, sidestepping around a woman as he took in the scene around him, "busy in here today, huh?"

The kids maneuvered their way through the packed dining area, all of their eyes searching for an empty table.

"Hell yeah, it is," Kie responded, her eyebrows stitching together as she caught sight of an unfamiliar raven haired girl in the kitchen.

She knew her dad had set up an interview with someone the other day, but he was never the one to hire and put to work the same day. Her father was very strict about who came in and out of his kitchen and how it was run.

"Found one!" JJ called, running across the floor to get to it before someone else could. He plopped down on a chair, running his ring clad fingers through his blonde locks before placing his red cap backward on his head. Harlow pulled the seat out next to him, flicking his red hat from behind, bringing the boy to quickly catch it before it hit the table.

Kie followed them wordlessly, her eyes still locked on the new cook in the kitchen as curiosity tickled her brain. "Do ya'll know who that is?"

The three boys and Harlow turned to look, all of them shaking their heads in response, a chorus of 'no's' or 'uh huh's' here and there.

Kie pursed her lips, her slender fingers tapping at the wooden chair before she signaled to the guys that she'd be back in a minute and moved towards the kitchen. The girl in question had swiveled around one of the older cooks, trading spots with him as she grabbed a pair of plates off the counter.

"'Scuse me," she smiled with a bow of her head, moving past Kie to put the plates down at one of the tables.

She turned around quickly, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead with a rag before throwing it back over her shoulder.

"What's your name?" Kie questioned, crossing her arms over her orange halter top.

"Uh, Reina," the girl responded, a little confused by the random girl's straightforward inquiry before hurrying back to the kitchen, not giving Kie a chance to say anything else.

Just as the mystery girl - Reina, disappeared back into the kitchen, her father rounded the corner, giving her a nod to assure that he knew her and her friends were there, and they would get their food as quickly as they could get it out. Kie gave him a small smile in return and went back to her table, not before grabbing a stack of paper cups and a jug of water.

"You find out who the new girl is, Kie?" JJ asked, swiping a fry off an empty table.

"Just that her name's Reina," Kiara shrugged, offering the guys a cup and some water.

John B craned his neck to try and spot the dark-haired girl in the kitchen. "I haven't seen her around before," he pointed out.

"You think she's a kook?" Harlow questions, more so to herself as she noticed the seemingly expensive top.

"Maybe she's new," Pope chimes in his suggestion, his eyes fixated on how quickly she moved about the kitchen like muscle memory.

"Who moves to the Outer Banks?" JJ questioned around a mouthful of fries.

"Ew, gross," Kie muttered as her face scrunched up and finally took a seat next to Pope.

The Pogues chattered amongst themselves as customers were in and out of the restaurant. They were so used to sitting there for hours on end that they hadn't realized a difference in the food until it was displayed in front of them.

JJ was the first to mindlessly get a forkful of food into his mouth, suddenly moaning at the taste, pointing aggressively at his plate,

"This is fucking bomb, dog," he mumbled.

Upon seeing the other boy's reaction to the food, Kiara picked up a few eggs off of her plate and stuffed them into her mouth, "Holy shit," her eyes widened, knowing for a fact that this was not her father's cooking. "this is really good."

"Whoever made these needs to cook everything on the menu," Pope chuckled, diving into his fluffy pancakes lovingly.

Harlow was munching happily on her toast, her light brown hair that had recently been dyed two shades lighter at the tips was pulled back into a ponytail. She didn't bother making any comment, too entranced with the powdered sugar that she gladly licked off her fingers before wiping them off on a napkin.

John B peeped up from his plate, his chewing slowing down when he saw how white powder coated Harlow's pink lips. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a napkin and nearly scaring the girl to death when he wipes her lips with his thumb. "Much obliged, JB," Harlow chimed once he finished.

Reina had just finished washing her hands of the sticky juices of fruit when she noticed the group of kids hadn't been served their drinks. It seemed the Wreck was even short on servers. She huffed to herself, already dreading having to interact with them. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand before grabbing a paper and pencil that sat on the counter to get their drink order.

"Hey, sorry for the delay on the drinks," Reina apologized when she made it to the table. She grew uncomfortable by how all their eyes bore into her own, and she dropped her attention to the notepad in her hand. "what can I start you off with?"

"I'll take a Sprite, please!" Pope exclaimed, instantly taking notice of the group's surprise in his response.

"Okay," Reina responded, quickly writing down his drink order in her notepad, "for you?"

"I'll take a raspberry ice tea," replied JJ, earning groans from the rest of the table, "with four pumps of the syrup, and only fill the glass halfway with ice so I can stir in my sugar-"

"Oh my gooooood!" groaned Harlow, "why are you so weird, JJ?"

JJ makes a face, "How am I weird? She's asking for my order!"

"Yeah, your drink order, not the secret recipe for a heart attack!"

"You know, what?-"

"What?-"

"Well, maybe if you let me finish my sentence-"

It wasn't long before the entire table erupted in a full-blown argument. Reina stood at the end of their table, brows furrowed, mouth parted. What the fuck..

Her eyes glanced around the packed dining room, her fingers twitching around her pencil. The place was still crowded, and the kitchen seemed to be going up in flames.

"I hate to interrupt, but does anybody else want anything to drink?" Reina spoke over the shouts.

The table quieted immediately, seemingly having forgotten about the girl waiting to take their order. The teens passed around embarrassed looks before the girl who'd come up to Reina earlier spoke.

"Pepsi's are fine."

Reina pursed her lips and gave her a nod before shoving her notepad and pen back into her apron and hurrying away from their table.

"Nice going," Kie snapped, throwing a rolled-up napkin at JJ.

•≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈•

As the day carried by, the restaurant's capacity was waning down to only a few customers an hour. Reina hadn't expected the day to be so eventful. Some adults and teens discerned that she was new to the island and welcomed her before paying her a generous tip. Mr. Carrera was already falling in love with the new girl's cooking and didn't bother telling her she got the job; it was already guaranteed. He told her to have the day to herself tomorrow, and she could come work every other day. Reina would prefer to keep herself busy in the kitchen instead of being forced to explore the island, but she obliged nonetheless.

The seven pm sun was warming Reina's skin as she walked alongside her bike. She decided to take her time heading home, hoping her surprisingly laid back step-parents would say it's too late for her to go to the party at the beach. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore was enough for her jaw to clench, wishing to drown out the sound. For a moment, the wind picked up around her loose hair, and she instinctively let her fingers ghost over the scars on her neck, flashing her back to that night.

•

"Reina, just jump, bro!"

The California moon was set on full display as the stars were barely distinguishable from the colorful, luminescent lights blinding the party at a rich kids' beach house. After Reina's friends informed her of a party being held in the Hamptons, she couldn't refuse. Not when the boy throwing the party was loaded with cash. School was nearly over, and one last party would surely end the year with a bang.

After a few heavy drinks and five shots, Reina found her unbalanced body standing on the highest point of the house's roof. The cold California night air brushed against her skin, but the warmth from her drunken state didn't let goosebumps make an appearance. Her hair was tousled behind her; space buns atop her head, keeping strands from invading her vision. Her black eyeliner was smudged from the excessive wave of laughter that overcame her a couple of hours before, and her chapstick was secured in her back pocket of her shorts in case of a possible make-out session.

"You think I'll make it?" Reina's crazed question was muffled out over the shouting and cheers coaxing her to jump into the vast pool below, and she let one of her bare feet dangle off the edge.

Her brown eyes caught sight of her sweet friend Vanessa, who was acting as a chaperone for the night, glaring up at her through the rims of her blue glasses. "If you're actually asking for a probability, you're insane!" Vanessa yelled.

"C'mon Nessa!" a brunette boy, Dimitri, came tumbling toward the red-headed girl draping his wet arm over her shoulder. His bare upper body smelled of herb and chlorine as his brown hair was swiped back from the pool. "Quit being a killjoy. The jump isn't even that high."

"It's not the jump I'm worried about, ass wipe." Vanessa growled, shoving the boy away from her, "Do you not see how drunk she is? If she even tried to jump, she'll land face-first on the cement."

Even beyond the overpour of music blasting through her ears, Reina heard Vanessa and saw it as a challenge. "Prepare for landing, ladies, and gentlemen!" Reina warned with a playful salute, loud enough for the crowd of teens below to roar out an applaud, making a clear opening for her in the pool.

"Rae, no! Stop!" Vanessa tried lunging for the house, but Dimitri pulled her back by her arm. "I swear to--"

It was too late. Reina opened her arms wide and let gravity take its toll once she leaped from the edge of the roof. She tucked her body into a ball just when she made contact with the water. The music invaded her eardrums, and the white noise muted all the applause from her life-threatening jump.

A wide grin set on full display on her lips brought ease to Vanessa, knowing she wasn't hurt, and she decided to retire into the house, too angry to say another word to her reckless friend. Reina's buns came undone, and her raven hair was dripping down her shoulder as she swiveled around people to exit the pool.

The crisp air made itself known as it nipped on her skin, but it vanished as soon as Dimitri came crashing toward her. Her black bikini top nearly shifted out of place from the boy's abrupt intrusion, but as this was his party, she would let him do whatever. As long as she could find his wallet in the depth of his pool trunks, she was good to go.

Dimitri separated from her and gripped her by the shoulders. "Badass Reina. Fucking hot," he breathed out sporting a smirk, his breath laced with weed.

Reina shrugged innocently, "The roofs not even that high off the ground. It's nothing."

Dimitri rolled his eyes before trailing his hands down her soaked waist and pulled her close enough for his lips to graze over the shell of her ear. "Wanna do a line? I got some of my buddies sellin' here tonight. My treat?"

Reina bit down on her lips, her audacious nature taking root once again. "Bet you can't last more than two lines," she mumbled with natural confidence. Dimitri lifted a brow and nodded leisurely, taking hold of her small hand, lacing it with his own.

"You're on, Bayard."

•

The honking of an obnoxious horn penetrated her thoughts, and Reina whipped her head around to see a VW van slowing down until it made a complete stop.

She was surprised to see the boy from early in the driver's seat with his arm draped out the window. His unruly brown curls sat atop his head, almost looking like a surfer and frat boy at the same time. His sun-kissed skin was radiant under the North Carolina sun, and she realized how handsome the boy really was.

"Hi again," the boy greeted with a casual wave of his hand that was gripping the steering wheel. Reina flashed a tight-lipped smile, nodding in response. She had only realized the girl from earlier on the passenger seat when she poked her head out from over his shoulder.

"Reina yeah?" the girl asked, hopefulness in her tone that she got the name right. Her mocha eyes were squinted from the bright sun behind Reina.

Reia nodded gradually, kicking the metal bar on her bike to let it park. "Yeah..." her tone came out as a question, puzzled that the random girl would make another appearance.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for how we acted today; you had enough on your plate and didn't need to deal with us acting like children."

Reina could hear commotion from the back seat due to the girl's tone directed to a friend of hers.

Reina's rigid shoulders relaxed at her words, taking a step closer to the beat-up van as she ran her hand down her arm. "Oh, no, it's okay. I've dealt with worse," she replied dismissively.

"Still," the girl shrugged before a small smile appeared on her lips, "By the way, I'm Kiara, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other now that you're working at the Wreck."

"You work there too?" Reina asked.

"My dad owns the place." It suddenly made sense why the teenagers strutted in the restaurant like they owned the place.

Kiara's hand stuck outside of the window, waiting for Reina to shake it. She did so wearily, an awkward chuckle leaving her mouth.

"This is John B," the boy driving the van sent her a nod, "and in the back are, Pope, JJ, and Harlow." a mix of greetings was heard from the back.

Pope? Odd name.

"Hi," Reina replied softly. The interaction seems like a simple one, but a storm was brewing in Reina's head.

"We're throwing a party down at the Boneyard - you know where that is?" John B asked, toying with the bandana around his wrist.

Reina pondered for a moment, "Is it that party at the beach I heard about?"

"Kegger!" a male voice corrected her from the back seat, earning an eye roll from Kiara.

"Right yeah, that. Shouldn't be hard to find."

"Great!" Kiara beamed, a bright smile on her face, "you should come! It's gonna be fun!"

Reina parted her lips slightly, not expecting the invitation. "You really don't have to invite me--"

"No, no, seriously. If you're the one who cooked that killer food back at the Wreck, a drink is well deserved." John B licked his lips, waiting for her to respond to his attempt.

Reina wanted to decline almost immediately. But Chris' demand came jogging back to memory. "Make friends!"

"Uh, yeah, okay," Reina nodded nonchalantly as if her brain wasn't exploding at the idea of being so close to the water, "sure."

Her mind wandered the rest of the walk home, thinking up every horrble possibility. When Reina arrived home, she pulled out her cassete from one of her boxes she was yet to unpack and fell on her bed. Her eyes drifted closed, as she tucked the plastic ear buds in her ear and hummed along to work all day

@pogueszn @mdlyncline @cordeliascrown @acvross-the-universe @bricksatanakinswindow

#outer banks #jj maybank #kiara carrera #john b routledge #pope heyward #jj maybank x oc #my ocs #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx #obx netflix #obx cast #jessica henwick

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xlady-saya · 4 years

Text

I’ve had a love of my own [ch. 4]

Relationships: andrew/neil

Summary: Despite everything Neil could’ve imagined for his life, he never thought he’d be here, finally giving the world the interview they’ve always wanted.

It’s been decades, but even with his numerous accolades and sports wins, he finds that they’re the least important thing about his life.

Neil can’t help but laugh. Andrew would be so annoyed if he were here.

Of course, Neil only wants to talk about him, and the life they spent together.

Tags: interviews, post canon, major character death but not how u think I swear lol, neil is an old man retelling his memories about andrew, cheesy romance, post retirement, see more tags on ao3

Read on ao3!

Rayah hands him tissues, but Neil passes them back.

She needs them.

Blake too, from the snot he's trying to wipe on the back of his hand. Weird, how Neil doesn't necessarily view this as a fond memory, or even the most important one he has to offer. It happened though, but he sees it more as a halfway point.

His journey with Andrew had really only begun, and he hadn't even known. So much time left, not infinite, but vast.

"You must've been so afraid," Rayah says, blowing into the tissue enough for Neil to lean back. He's glad they're there to break up the memory, he's become weak in his old age. Memories of the past can't come back to hurt him, Andrew taught him that.

Still, they can feel like barbed wire around his throat.

"I was," Neil affirms, checking his watch. Sydney will be due back soon, he can't linger much longer. "Andrew's reaction then was almost worse than the one on the court. Andrew was never violent with me, but I'd seen him lose control, I'd seen his rage. It had been so long...that was the first time in a long time he really looked like he wanted to tear the world apart."

Neil finally had a vague idea of what Baltimore was like for everyone else, and he finds himself grinning down at his hands.

"Funny, I was so worried about leaving Andrew," Neil mentions, and watches both Blake and Rayah freeze. When had they started hanging onto his words? He shakes his head, touching the watch on his wrist. "But now I'm here."

At their sad faces, he corrects himself, holding up his hands with a laugh. "No no, I don't see it the way I saw it then!" In fact, he sees it more how Andrew saw it. There was no way for them to be apart after everything they'd been through together. Neil's smile fades, his words serious, and he moves the recorder a little closer. His voice is crystal clear when he says: "Andrew didn't leave me. I was not abandoned."

He could never be abandoned by Andrew. Andrew helped him be at a place where he could never feel that way, and he did the same in return for Andrew. Had Neil gone first, he knows the blond would've managed in much the same way. As much as he would've mourned, he would've had his brother, the rest of their family. All of Neil's excessive Palmetto merch and memorabilia to look after...

They were never each other's answers, just something they didn't want to be without.

"I think I actually ended up being kind of happy, not when he died but later. Andrew's final act was a selfish one. He didn't want to be here without me, so he made sure it wouldn't happen."

Neil finds himself feeling smug, despite his aching. Andrew was someone who always did things for others, despite what he tried to convince people of. Knowing his last act was completely for himself...

Neil couldn't be prouder.

Okay, so he's not going to be able to remain strong. Neil grabs the tissues petulantly, overcome with it. He blames Andrew. "The bastard."

They look away out of respect while he sorts himself out, hands clasped.

Rayah's mascara smears a little when she goes to wipe her red eyes, sticky on her finger, and Blake is so engrossed he doesn't notice when she wipes it against his clean white shirt. He leans forward after a moment, and Neil isn't surprised. A reporter's curiosity is never sated. There's a fire in his eyes, urging Neil on. "What happened next?"

Ha. Now isn't that an interesting question?

Regardless of how terrified Neil felt in the moment, his smile has a smug edge to it when he recalls the night he arrived, the sound of a cane echoing at the back of Neil's head.

He leans back, and keeps his voice low. "They did eventually come."

One night, just as time bleeds over into the next day, there's a click of a lock that reverberates through their entire flat.

Neil instantly knows; the click is akin to a gunshot, a timer going off. No more hiding, nowhere to run.

At least Neil still has some of his reflexes.

Andrew shoots up, knife in hand in half a second, and Neil grabs his own legs like they can save him one last time. No, not himself, Andrew.

His legs, still wrapped up and healing, are not nearly ready for any excessive movements. Neil doesn't care; he throws them over Andrew as quick as he can, and cries out when they land.

It's excruciating.

Movement shouldn't be possible, but Neil has never listened to doctor's orders. The pain is the consequence; it's a blow torch on his tendons, searing every nerve and joint it can. His scream breaks off into strangled gasps, and he feels Andrew halt completely.

It's a dirty trick, but necessary.

Andrew's scowl is almost worse than the blaze of his joints, but Neil doesn't back down. He doesn't weigh much; Andrew could throw him aside with ease. But he won't. Neil's legs are pushed firmly in his lap, resting against his abdomen, pinning Andrew between his own body and the headboard.

There's no way to lunge without hurting Neil, and despite the way Andrew must be weighing the pros and cons of it in his head, Neil is his weak spot. Andrew edges forward in warning, but Neil digs his heels in and whimpers.

"Andrew," he pleads, and the sound from Andrew's throat makes him feel sick.

"Fuck off, Neil," he replies, teeth bared. It's unfair, he gets it. Andrew never got to fight, last time he didn't even know Neil would be taken away. But Neil can't, he just can't--

"No."

Stay down.

Neil wants Andrew to let him fight first, let him try his luck one more time. Andrew's scathing response is cut short by tap of shoes on their hardwood, and they silence themselves, fixated on the door.

Ichirou never follows anyone's schedule but his own. He walks leisurely, calm, and without care for the panic he's caused. His cane clicks offbeat with his footsteps, the sound disjointed and not nearly as polished as the rest of him usually seems.

Neil watches the shadow on the wall grow larger and more distorted, until it finally forms the thin silhouette of the reaper himself.

He never got tired of silk suits, Neil notes. They fit a little better now though; Ichirou has filled them in, not just physically. Neil forgets how young he is, it's been so long since they've seen each other, but he remembers how even someone as menacing and cold as Ichirou had looked new, not yet settled into his role.

That Ichirou is gone.

He walks into the room, ramrod straight and poised, with an air of superiority not many people other than himself and perhaps Allison Reynolds can pull off. It nearly has Neil turning to face him, but he won't, for sake of letting Andrew loose.

Andrew snarls under his breath, but Ichirou's entrance into the room, while dramatic, isn't anything particularly foreboding. In fact, he grabs one of their crappy folding chairs, one Neil's physical therapist uses, and drags it across the room after some consideration. It throws Neil off almost immediately, and the subtle scrape of the chair legs grate on his nerves. However, he hopes it means Ichirou is here to talk.

While Neil knew realistically that would happen, a swift execution wouldn't have surprised him.

Ichirou places the chair down a few feet from them, and the thump of it puts a silencer on the world around them. The street below doesn't dare make a peep. Ichirou regards their positions with an edge of amusement, but lingers on Neil's legs.

"I'll admit I did not know what to expect," he speaks, and his voice reminds Neil of the embers of a fire. Grave, subdued, and ready to be stroked into something far more devastating.

"Lord," Neil replies, and he bows his head despite how much it makes the lump in his throat all the more constricting. "I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sure you have." Ichirou gestures to Neil's legs calmly, and leaves his hand hanging there until Neil looks. Salt in the wound, but Neil does it. "Your father would be happy."

Fury and resentment spike in Neil's chest, and while it may bleed onto his face, it's not much compared to how Andrew tries to lunge forward. All it takes is Neil's wince to stop him, to send him reeling back and torn between checking on him and not taking his eyes off Ichirou.

Neil is glad for his forethought; he wants Andrew to be safe, but even he can't be completely passive. Neil scowls, letting some of the respect melt away.

He can't help it. The cold smile is on his face before he means it to be, and Ichirou inhales sharply. Neil wonders if it's an acknowledgement of one of his own. "Well he's dead, so we'll never know."

He's dead and rotting somewhere, insignificant.

Even when he's hanging on by a thread himself, Neil's comforted by the memory.

Ichirou's eyes narrow, but it's not a threat in his eyes.

"Someone's feeling bold, though I suppose you always are," he says, humming in the back of his throat. "So close to death all your life, nothing to lose. You've never needed my presence to know that."

Neil bites back all he could say, all the things about his life Ichirou wouldn't care about or label as valuable. He has everything to lose now.

"Lord, I know I'm in no position to ask for favors," he says, and Ichirou nods in agreement. Neil's worth and investment potential have run out, if they're going by the bare bones of his contract. Before he can think better of it, he prioritizes what's important. His voice takes on a desperate edge, a critical mistake in front of someone like Ichirou, but unavoidable. "I'm prepared to make my case but—but leave Andrew out of this. He's not—"

A hand finds the back of his neck and squeezes; it's not painful, never painful, but it startles him enough to make him choke on the rest. Andrew's tone rattles against his brain, warning. "If you try to be a martyr in front of me, I'll kill you before he even gets the chance," Andrew bites at him, and Neil glares at the lie. Always a bad liar. But without acknowledging that, Andrew whips around to Ichirou, and his threat has Neil's blood solidifying. On ice, already. "And you, get out of our house."

Neil's hand flies up to squeeze the blond's arm, but he doesn't have the strength to do much. "Andrew."

Ichirou just chuckles, amused as Neil has ever seen him. Instead of threatening Andrew in return or silencing him right then and there, he leans back in the chair, regarding them like they're some species he's never heard of. "You're lucky I'm not here for you. I'm willing to overlook your rudeness because of what I need to say."

Ichirou doesn't so much as glance at Andrew while he says it, nor anytime after, and Neil feels the blond's trembling pour into him. He straightens, watching the careful tap of Ichirou's finger on the cane, and refuses to let himself jolt when those eyes meet his. Darkness meets an ocean blue, and Neil is thankful for the resemblance to his father now. He hopes Ichirou has just as much trouble navigating the sea of his mind, in finding what's locked away.

"Nathaniel," Ichirou begins, then tilts his head. A correction, one that makes Neil hold his breath. "Neil. Given the circumstances, I'm willing to confess a little here. You've always been an enigma to me. For a long time, I did not know whether to label you as a disgusting leech, or the wolf in the henhouse. Or maybe fox is more appropriate. Either way, you're a particularly giant, conniving thorn in my side."

Good, Neil thinks. He never wants to be that known, that easy to pick apart. He never saw himself as a threat though, regardless of his potential, his willingness to claw and bite. Yet, he never took any pleasure in the pain of others unless they deserved it. That was a big difference between him and his father, something that's perhaps hard for Ichirou to wrap his head around.

Neil never asked him before, he realizes. What did Ichirou think of The Butcher?

As if hearing Neil thinking too hard, Ichirou's eyes pierce through him, holding the thoughts hostage, pinning to a wall.

"There's blood on your hands wherever you go," Ichirou muses. "There are nights where I think I should've killed you. You're too dangerous to be let loose, to be kept alive and constantly bearing down on my throat when I don't even realize it. You are the riskiest investment I ever made, and your retirement should be nothing more than an act of charity from the powers above."

Ichirou looks to his cane then, and taps it once, twice against the floor. "I wonder."

He sits there a beat too long to be comfortable, and that's when he reaches into his suit pocket, as if having made up his mind. All Neil sees is the gun, from that point on.

The air in his lungs is ripped clean out, and that's appropriate. He feels like a husk, with Andrew's pleas in his ear to let him up, now Neil, now. But Neil's mind ignores it all, voice tiny and wheezing. "Lord," he tries, but has no idea what to say. "I--"

What? What does he want?

It's the simplest, most pathetic thing. But all he can think is: not in front of Andrew.

Yes, that's it. Neil's panic flares, and it's not his rabbit instincts for once. He doesn't want to be home anymore. He doesn't want to ruin this place they built together, the place they made their home with all their pictures and souvenirs.

He's an idiot, what was he thinking?

He opens his mouth to say as much, and stops short when Ichirou places the gun on his knee. Andrew's gaze tries to melt the thing until it’s molten, and he's just getting more and more frustrated when that doesn't happen. It's still shiny, and very much there. It's so elegant, so unassuming, for being a deliverer of death.

Andrew keeps trying to make Neil budge, to at least move in front of him like a shield, but Neil refuses. His legs cry out in agony, but he'll ignore it until his last breath.

"I'm not done," Ichirou says, and points the gun at them both for good measure before it's back at his side. Neil tracks it up until Ichirou slams his cane on the hardwood, and pulls Neil's gaze back to him. There's a resignation in his gaze Neil doesn't know what to do with, a question not even Neil can parse. And if he can't understand the weight of this, who can?

"I could finally be rid of you. I could wipe the slate clean of yet another risk. You are the only one who threatens me."

Neil bites his tongue; Ichirou's only half speaking to him. Neil wants to argue he would never, there's nothing about that life, the one Ichirou leads, that Neil could want to steal away.

But Ichirou has to know that. Maybe that's the thing he can't wrap his head around, what makes Neil dangerous.

"But it just so happens that some of that blood on your hands was beneficial to me," Ichirou admits, huffing to himself. "Without you and the stress you put on my family's contacts, the animosity towards Riko...I may not have this throne of mine."

Neil chokes on the realization of where this is leading, but doesn't dare to let himself expect it.

Ichirou leans back again, and takes him in with nothing short of disdain. It's the most expressive Neil has ever seen him, the cool veneer stripped away.

"Make no mistake, I am not giving you credit, not even an ounce of it," Ichirou spits out, then he closes his eyes, breathing in to regain a shred of the composure he had when he walked in. Neil doesn't care, he's too busy staring at the furrow in his brow, at the retreating gun. Ichirou's eyes meet his and they're blazing, but the ring of fire doesn't scathe him. Neil seems to be the one point it can't reach. "You don't deserve it. But with your father gone, with my enemies and all those squabbling liabilities rotting in the ground...I can move freely."

He puts away the gun, as slow and conflicted as the movement is. But it's gone. Hidden. Neil's last stroke of luck. May he never be in need of more.

Andrew sneers, unable to help himself. "That sounds like plenty of credit is due."

Any other moment, Neil would wheeze, would fear retaliation. But Ichirou's just shown him his decision, a mind made up. He won't go back on it once he's crossed that line. It's not in his nature.

Funny. No matter how depraved the code of ethics is, it's still there, clean and outlined.

Ichirou stands, contempt clear as he stares down at them. "Think of this as repayment instead, a courtesy if you will," he mutters. "This will close out our account officially. There are some terms. I'll be happy to take that remaining 80% of your pension, your severance, but after? I want nothing to do with you."

The last syllable is laced with thin disgust, but then Ichirou retreats back into himself. The mask returns, an icy veil which emotions don't stand a chance against.

And well, Neil's always been a little stupid. He exhales shakily, his lungs aching from being so deprived. "You...you're letting me go?"

"I'm letting you become someone else's burden," Ichirou glances at Andrew, at the way his fists are still clenched around Neil. "But do not think me merciful."

He could never.

He understands their relationship, or rather, the end of it. That doesn't stop Ichirou from making it exceedingly clear.

His voice fills the room, coating the walls and staining it. It's not as bad as blood, but it's a promise Neil won't soon remove, a reminder that if he wants to keep this home of his, he'll listen. "I’ll extend the courtesy to your companions if they’re ever in the same situation. But if I ever see you again, if I hear that you're involved in anything, from the smallest transaction or negotiation in my circle, in my empire, I will kill you all," Ichirou explains, a vow. Then, his gaze flickers over Andrew one last time, and yes, Neil understands perfectly. He shows it in the way he glares, in the way he calls on his father's ghost one last time. "I will do more than kill you, I will destroy everything about you."

The fear begins to trickle out of him, and maybe that's a bad thing where Neil is concerned. He's not sure what he's exuding right then, but he can feel himself stop shaking, can feel his chin tilt up in a challenge. It's a deceptive calm, but one Ichirou will read correctly.

Acknowledgement, respect, but underneath all that it's a boast. It says I won.

Neil's not sure it can be called that but he owns it, with all his infuriating confidence, he owns it, and makes sure Ichirou knows there will always be some truth to it.

Even if Neil didn't have to convince him, even if Ichirou came to the conclusion all on his own.

He was bested, and Neil has to squash the smile that wants to bloom on his face.

Andrew stops shaking too, his rage reigned in for now. He probably won't sleep for days regardless; the fear, the what ifs...they're too fresh and heavy.

But that's alright. More than alright. Because Neil can spend the rest of their lives making it up to him.

"Do we have a deal?" Ichirou states, like he needs to. But Neil nods anyways. It's a farewell he didn't know he wanted so badly.

"Yes, we do," he says, and adds reluctantly: "Thank you, Lord."

Ichirou inclines his head, and Neil has to bite back any sass. It's a look that says 'don't thank me yet. Don't thank me until you're old and gray.'

With that final warning, Ichirou turns away, and neither of them dare to move.

That's where the acknowledgement ends; Ichirou reaches the door, and without looking back, solidifies his exit from Neil's life.

"Goodbye, Neil Josten."

They don't move at first. They listen to the disjointed steps as Ichirou leaves, and only when it sinks in that he's walking away does Neil feel Andrew pull him gently closer. It's a fierce hold regardless, an attempt to carve Neil a place in his chest to hide. It's 'I've got you' and 'I get to keep you' all at once.

When the lock on their front door clicks shut, the one to Neil's future opens wide.

Neil lets Blake and Rayah take their time scribbling their notes, neither of them daring to ask for clarification. Neil hopes it's because there's nothing to clarify.

It's too simplistic to say he won some climactic battle, that the rest of his life was carefree and happy. This was merely a pause in his life, a blip in time which also passed like everything else, drowned out with visits to Germany and difficult trips to the vet.

Neil doesn't view it as the middle, or a turning point. He doesn't view anything that way. He started his life as Neil Josten and it flowed from there, choppy and untamed at times, but no less...memorable.

His encounter with Ichirou was a moment he had to wait, to breathe in and take in what he had before he kept going. A log or dam that eventually eroded away like the rest of the obstacles he faced.

And there was so, so much more that came after that.

Perhaps not as exciting; family vacations, Exy games, and weekend getaways are hardly anything compared to run-ins with the mafia, to devastating injuries and comebacks. No one wants to hear about the petty arguments and compromises, the bouts of depression which came from being robbed of the sport he loved despite his survival. There's nothing riveting about the quiet dinners Neil enjoyed with Andrew at his side every night for over thirty years after.

But even still, he's waiting to get to those. He wants to talk about those.

Each time he finishes a memory, he's antsy to tell the next one. It's the most exciting thing to him, knowing that even when it all stops, when he has nothing more he needs to share, that nothing ever ended. He could go on and on. As long as he’s breathing, he can say more.

It doesn't end until he's gone, and how sneaky he is, how brilliant, for even going beyond that to preserve their life, every boring piece of it.

He sends Andrew a smug little smile, just for that.

So now people can know, for at least a few years to come, that yes, Neil Josten survived the mafia. But more importantly, Andrew Minyard was next to him, and was just about the best companion Neil could've asked for.

It makes him smile, uncontrolled in its entirety, and when Sydney walks in she doesn't even ask. She returns it, and that fondness makes Neil feel as if Andrew is still in the room, because it was so often directed at him as well.

When she leaves, the room is quiet apart from the last fading scratches of pen on paper.

Occasionally one of the reporters will look up at him, scan him as if they can get the residual emotions hanging from his aura and paste them onto the messy pages.

Neil doesn't envy them.

He's never been a writer, and he's giving them a daunting task. Vague, but detailed. Powerful, but without all the flowery, over-exaggerated nonsense. This is not a sensationalist piece, but his life, and while they've been treating him with the respect he asked for, he gets the feeling they just now came to the realization fully.

It's easy to say you love someone, at the end of the day. Even if it's a lie, even if it takes you a while to work up the courage for it. It's easy to repeat it over and over again.

But for people to understand the full scope of Neil's feelings, so far beyond that word with all the strange deviations and intricacies...

Well, he can tell by the way Rayah and Blake come to a standstill, eyes fixed on their notes, that they do understand. That's what makes it so difficult, that's what makes it impossible.

Nothing they do or write will truly replicate the way Neil has made them feel, the way Andrew made Neil feel.

And Neil's grateful for that. He's grateful, because he always knew deep down that his relationship with Andrew was not something anyone would be able to capture and define. It was theirs.

As long as that's obvious, then he thinks it'll be more than okay.

He'll keep providing all the details they need to compensate.

Eventually, when they do look up, Rayah just laughs, smoothing her hand over the paper. Neither of them make a move for their food. "I—I don't know what to ask anymore?" She frames it as a question, tone searching, and when she looks at Blake, he merely shrugs.

There's a mistiness in his eyes when he turns to Neil too, as if to ask, 'well?'

Neil beams brighter, bringing his food in front of him. Ten years and he hasn't changed the order. It's still the plate he and Andrew split.

And with that warmth in his chest, he's more than happy to take it from there.

"Don't worry," he says, amusement lacing his tone. "I know what comes next."

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

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everythingoesnk · 5 years

Text

Once in Rockfield Farm (5/5)

summary; whatever man i just hope u go easy on me and that u enjoy it. thanks to those who read every chapter or sent me beautiful slash encouraging messages saying the story was good, i appreciate it a lot :( i just wish you don’t cringe 2 much

word count; 3 197

warnings; my inability to write good endings

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

********

Ricky Nelson’s divine and comforting voice filled Roger’s Alfa Romeo.

He had it repaired, that’s why you hadn’t been introduced to it yet.

Gazing out the window wasn’t an option, since the weather was foggy and the eternal repetitive picture of trees and empty road wasn’t really entertaining you no more.

As an alternative, you were recollecting flashbacks from your graduation ceremony.

Everything’d been absolutely perfect except for the evident.

The tension between Mary and Roger was palpable, detestably and boringly palpable. None of them told you how the argument went, and you were late to be able to hear anything. Both screaming over each other didn’t contribute to the cause. Mary did him dirty and Roger didn’t make an effort to control his hysteria. Before attempting to sow any peace, they needed time for things to cool down. You could understand both parts and weren't about to take any side.

Everyone, including you, had been wrong at one point.

But forgetting about Mary for a moment, you still had a pending conversation with Roger. And you owned him an apology as well.

The things he said to you at home before the ceremony, even when you were given your diploma, stuck with you. Mind split in two, one side was present in the event and the other replaying Roger’s words claiming that you were ‘stupid’ because you didn’t notice that he cared about you.

Clutching your knees to your chest, you breathed in deeply looking straight ahead.

Roger didn’t speak, and you sighed louder. And louder. Until he laughed a very cute laugh.

“I thought I made it clear the first time,” you said, “I hate not knowing where I’m going”

Roger rolled his window down and rested the arm there. A faint wind messed with his locks.

He didn’t turn to look at you before answering.

“It makes it more enjoyable to me”

“Is it far?”

“It isn’t”

Driving with one hand, Roger switched off the radio.

He didn’t look like he wanted to converse or have anything distract him, hiding the mirrors of his soul behind aviator sunglasses. You could tell he was nervous, making you wonder what was so nerve-racking that wouldn’t let Roger be his talkative and joyful self.

“Fine” you shrugged. “But before we get there I want to tell you something”

He nodded, as if inviting you to go on.

“I talked to Brian about the whole thing long before it blew up. I complained about you supposedly fucking those girls to provoke me, which we all know now it was the ultimate purpose, even if you didn’t shag any in the end. Well,” you sighed, “I’ve been a bitch as well”

Roger locked his eyes on yours instantaneously. You quickly put your head down and clasped your hands together.

His eyes went back to the road.

“I complained about you jumping to conclusions when I literally have no right to condemn it because I did the exact same thing. For weeks I avoided talking to you instead of getting things straight”

You glanced at him without really lifting your head up yet: his hands were gripping firmly the steering wheel.

Blood rushing to your face, you contemplated his profile.

You loved his nose and how it wiggled when he spoke or was deep in thought like it had a life of its own. You loved his chin, his lips, his eyebrows, his ears and his hair. You loved everything. And he was a jerk if he truly believed you didn’t notice he cared about you.

You were hurt that you hurt him for ignoring his feelings to focus on yours not getting brutally broken. That was some fucked up fat shit. You just couldn’t believe he was still somehow interested in you at that point.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I hope you can forgive me, I really do”

“We’re here”

He killed the engine, remained motionless for about fifteen seconds and hopped out of the car.

Blowing out your cheeks as soon as he exited the vehicle felt good. Only a little.

Was it something you said what bothered him? Angered him even? What could that something possibly be? You’d been polite, picking the words with care. Did you hit rock bottom, or was there further to fall? Was he going to tell you he did forgive you but that you should leave it like that? That your relationship was wounded to death? Yeah, we’re cool. ‘t was nice meeting you, have a nice flight to America. But don’t contact me again.

Roger threw open the front seat passenger door and held out his hand for you.

Feeling dizzy you took his hand, and he pulled you towards him.

Only to crash his lips into yours after your chest bumped against his.

Putting his hands on your lower back to steady you both, he worked his lips against your mouth in desperation and agony.

His forehead puckered, it looked like if it were hurting him kissing you.

It only hurt him that he couldn't have done this sooner.

Heart hammering against his ribs, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy and complete.

It was impossible, this much love.

You could feel your skeleton melting. It was getting harder to not fall on your knees. They felt weak, incapable of bearing with your weight right now.

The kiss started being kind of a mess, Roger fast and you trying to catch up with his clumsy rhythm out of eagerness. Your tongue pushed her way into his mouth, and he moved one hand to the back of your neck, holding your head in place.

The roughness made you grunt.

Butterflies swarming hysterically in your stomach and fireworks going off in his chest, you cupped his face in your hands, not planning on breaking the kiss for a while.

He took a few steps forward and soon your back made contact with his car.

You were drowning in euphoria.

Roger set his palms down flat on your sides.

“Roger—“

He ran his thumb over your lip, glanced at you for a brief couple of seconds in which you discovered how much his pupils had dilated -yours must’ve looked identical-.

The tip of your noses touching, he grinned and kissed you again.

Pink cheeks, pulse uncontrollable, arms embracing each other as if your bodies were what could save you from falling apart. That's all you were.

Tilting your head a little you stroked his cheek. He smiled at that.

You didn't miss the gesture and instantly opened your eyes even though you were still kissing, and smiled too closing them again.

Because of the lack of air that was threatening to make your lungs explode, you gradually began to separate. Treading your fingers down his chest, you wrapped them around his rainbow suspenders and sighed contently.

Roger took his time to open his eyes once the kiss finished, totally lulled by the hundreds of millions of sensations his mind and body were putting him through.

Awkwardness washing over your face due to the intimate moment you two just shared in the middle of a random street, you looked over his shoulder so you wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Roger laughed breathlessly and pressed his forehead against yours. You giggled a bit as well, and swallowed the urge to shake your head in disbelief that it finally happened.

He slung an arm around your waist.

“I like you, (Y/N)”

You held your breath.

“I forgive you”

You nodded and told yourself not to cry. Ignoring how much you wanted to.

“Ay,” he said, looking into your eyes and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You smiled big at his exclamation: he must’ve grown so used to hearing you say it that it slipped out of his own mouth, “now it’s when you confess you like me too”

You cackled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Oh really,” you teased in a whisper. But soon you waved the sarcasm off, this was what you were dying to tell him. It was now. You had to do it, “I like you too, Rog”

He pecked you on the lips, a huge pleasing look on his face.

“God…,” you breathed, the realization hitting you like a tsunami, “it’s all so… I’m so…”

You were mad you couldn’t find the right words.

The corners of Roger’s mouth quirked up.

He flashed you a bright smile, recognizing the signs of everything being a blur himself too even being in the moment yet.

“Me too, sweetheart”

You couldn’t resist it, and went straight to wrap your arms around him in a loving whole-hearted hug.

With your cheek brushing against his cheek you hoped this wasn’t all a dream.

It made you hold him tighter, with a beaming smile that could blind the blind, when you knew this was nothing but real.

“Love,” Roger spoke, not pulling away, “we should go now. We’ll have plenty of time to snuggle”

“Just one more second” you wished into existence.

Gently stroking your back, he took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing into the hug.

More than one second passed by when you agreed it was a reasonable time to let Roger go.

His smile broke into a giggle at you pouting.

“Hold my hand” he said softly.

Resting your chin on his shoulder as you two walked into the building, his thumb caressing your palm, it then hit you that you were in the EMI Record offices yet again.

You raised an eyebrow. Roger watched you.

There were many more commuting people around this time. None of them seemed to pay any attention to none of you, concentrated on their obligations. The place was loud.

Roger didn’t like too many questions, so, for once, you just shrugged.

“You lead”

Once inside the elevator, Roger cracked his knuckles, looking as if he were being escorted to the death row. The four walls of the elevator were suffocating him. Nothing of his earlier behaviour back on the street could be seen, it was like he turned into a different person.

“You alright?”

He pinched his nose.

“After what just happened, I don’t want you to be mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you for?”

He didn’t answer.

“Roger, what—“

The doors opened and a huge group of people stepped into the space. You rolled your eyes and walked closer to Roger’s side.

Seriously, he always seemed to have something up his sleeve.

Tapping your fingers against your lips you couldn’t think of anything he could’ve done to make you angry. He was probably just exaggerating. Although you still didn’t quite get why you were there.

Bouncing on your feet, you stopped when the doors opened again.

13th floor.

You arched an eyebrow. That was were Foster’s office was, if you remembered correctly.

Smoking a cigarette next to Forster's -opened- door, was Paul Prenter. You knew that man. He came from time to time to talk to the boys about Opera, to know if they needed something and to get information about the album's progress in general. However, you noticed that when he paid them a visit, he only acknowledged and cared about Freddie.

He liked him, everybody knew.

You didn’t treat Paul like he were a ballbuster like Roger and Brian did. John, Mary and you weren't comfortable with his presence either but kept it to yourselves.

“Paul?” Roger asked, confused.

“Rheid contacted me” Paul explained.

Paul looked at you, then at Roger, and then at your hands held together.

“They’re waiting inside. We better come in—“

“We? As we?” Roger pointed at you three. “We are going, you stay out of this”

“Rheid told me—“

Roger dragged you inside the office and closed the door in his face.

Deep in conversation as they were, everyone in the room snapped their heads at the two of you. When you raised your head, it was Rheid who you saw first.

“Roger, (Y/N)” he welcomed with a nod. “Please, take a sit (Y/N)”

Were you blind or did he just point to the chair right in front of the desk? Not like you were the protagonist.

You shook your head and eyed Roger. He was looking at Foster.

Miami was also in the room, you spotted him next to the big window. He waved at you and you smiled a little. Miami was a good person. You liked him. You liked him very much. You felt a bit more comfortable now that you knew he was there.

“Go ahead, (Y/N), sit” Foster insisted. “I’ve got little time and would like to discuss and go over the contract as quickly as possible”

Roger put his hand on your shoulder, and for some reason that made you shiver. He nodded at you to sit down and stood behind you, hands on the back of the chair, suddenly finding the room very hot.

Eyes exploring the room, you were beginning to feel giddy because of the secrecy thick in the air.

Contract?

Foster looked at you in the eye.

“What’s that face, woman? You’re a lucky one”

You turned on your seat to stare at Roger. You caught a glimpse of what seemed to be… fear? No, it couldn't. Fear of what?

Rheid, hooking two glasses in one hand and grasping a bottle in the other, made his way to you but stopped after studying your conduct.

“You didn’t tell her?” Rheid interrupted, wide-eyed, reflecting on yours and Roger’s attitude.

Foster was growing impatient. He slammed the contract down on the table.

“(Y/N),” Roger began, voice weak, so weak you weren’t sure you would understand him if he weren’t to raise it up a bit, “remember when you wandered off with Brian with the bikes? That day Freddie and John were out to town, and I was left alone”

“I do” your heart kicked ferociously.

“I know singing is your passion. Not singing, writing songs it is. Well, performing, so I guess that both. Both, both” he cursed under his breath for stumbling. “You said nothing was holding you back from going to America”

Afraid of what his actions might cause, he gulped the bulge in his throat before daring to lay his eyes on yours.

“Maybe there is something”

Your nails were digging into your palms.

Roger scratched his eyebrow. He felt like if he’d open his mouth his heart would fly out of it and land on your feet. He shut his eyes with a racing heart as he revealed what brought you there.

"I sent Foster a tape of All Too Well I found on the studio that day”

“Pardon?”

You didn't even finish registering what Roger'd done before the word came out of your mouth.

Stomach in a knot, Roger forced himself to look down at you, to meet your gaze.

He was mildly surprised by your reaction, expression spoiling how you precisely weren't overjoyed nor ecstatic about the news. But he knew this could be one of the outcomes.

You sprang to your feet, redness in your cheeks, forehead and neck, and said a small ‘Mind us a minute’ before turning on your heels and demanding Roger with a look to exit the office. You didn’t miss how a thin layer of light pink rose to his cheeks.

Miami's face wasn't saying much, but he didn't look away when you cast him a glance.

Clasping your hands behind your head, heart about to crash due to its rate mightly increasing, you closed your eyes. And it felt like you could hear and see your heart pumping blood.

Roger leaned against the hallway wall, looking at his shoes.

Fallen into a long lapse, Roger waited. He waited for you to speak first, but you didn’t. You just mirrored his posture, standing right across from him, hands covering your face.

“Say something, (Y/N)”

You hesitated to do, and your voice came out as a dark painful crack.

“I’m thinking of Todd”

Roger’s eyebrows knitted in doubt.

“That’s my grandfather’s name”

Unsure if you were gonna ask him to stop, he pushed himself off the wall and stood closer to you. You didn’t tell him to fuck off like you wanted to at first, but still were trying to figure out what to do with the information you’d been delivered.

Your heart plunged when he affectionately bumped his shoulder against yours.

Roger’s mouth opened slightly when he saw that your eyes were liquid with soon-to-be-released teardrops.

“What would Todd tell you if he was here now?”

You gave a sniff, wiped your eyes with the heel of your palm and grinned, latching onto the picture you visualized of your grandfather rolling his eyes, instructing you to get the shit done.

“To stop being a crybaby and to follow my dreams”

“Your dreams are just a signing away”

Roger caressed your nose with his. He was speaking in an undertone, careful not to disturb you.

“Are you mad at me for sending them the tape?”

You puffed your cheeks and let the air out thoughtfully.

Am I?

“You have to know this wasn’t the initial plan, I need to get this across. I just wanted them to hear it, so when they called to ask me who’s the talent I could tell you that your work has potential. Much more potential than you think. But they, well, you see, are interested”

Roger continued, seeing that you were still having a draining mental battle with yourself.

“We’ll take care of you. Miami and I. And Freddie, Brian and John. Everyone. If you accept, you could come to Japan with us and work on your debut album meanwhile”

“It’s… tempting”

Roger nodded and brought your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“You’ve got the last say, love”

With incredible patience and self-control, he focused on perfectly fitting his lips onto yours.

It felt so right and perfect to savour him.

Beyond immersed on the many opportunities that your destiny portended if you signed that paper, you didn’t even realize you were saying the following words until you were done reciting them.

“Thank you for believing in me”

And you knew the meaning behind Roger’s words was way deeper, referring to everything you’ve gone through. For believing that he didn’t do anything with those women and for not taking for granted that he wouldn’t be able to sustain a formal relationship.

Because you were a thing now, weren’t you?

Flashing a pair of crinkling eyes, happy that your future was now shining bright next to the man who made it possible that you could make yours’ and Todd’s dreams come true, you shoved your face in his neck, attaching him to you with your still tremulous arms.

Were you scared? Yes. But you had him, and that’s all you needed to know to feel strong enough to take such important plunge.

Engulfed in a wave of hope and gratitude, you let him hold you.

Todd would’ve loved Roger, and you were determined to not let any of these men down.

********

tagging; @sweetdaisys @multifics @incorrcctqueen @namelesslosers @benders-diamond-earring @mercurycrowley @ixchel-9275

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Mother dragon (8); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well I’ve had this done for a couple days now but I went head and started up the next couple parts, hopefully pt.9 will be out soon as I am halfway done with it, just need to brush up the beginning section of it. Okay so here is where things get a little fun, as well as a bit sad. Not only do you guys get to see more mother-son bonding time but we also get Stephen’s backstory (so I hope you all got your handkerchiefs out cause it’s a sad one). Also listen to the song I have listed in this chapter, TRUST ME YOU’RE GONNA WANNA LISTEN TO IT. Hope you all enjoy this chapter and I’ll see u for the next update.

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

_________________________________________________________

“Mum. Mum!” I groaned. I felt a hand nudge my head trying to wake me up. “C’mon wake up old maid.”

“That’s offensive.” I tiredly groaned; my voice hoarse with sleep. I opened my eyes to see Deacon standing there, but when I looked towards the opening of his den I saw that it was still dark outside. “Deacy what time is it?”

“Based off your phone 4:01am.”

“And why am I wake?”

“To give you this.” I felt a suitcase slam by my legs. I rose up from the bed and looked at it and he sat down at the foot of my bed looking right at me. I opened the suitcase and based from the light of the moon bouncing off the crystals, I was surprised to see my dragon suit. “I also brought some clothes for you as well as the boys, but since they mostly wear flannels I felt like it wasn’t much for the brothers to worry about.”

“Deacon why did you bring this? Who—”

“I had Stephen help make a quick portal to the Bunker, but he doesn’t know about this. I just told him I needed to get you some clothes as well as the boys. Can’t have you lot wearing the same clothes every day.”

“But how did you get past the Bunker’s hard-plated steel walls?”

“Guess the Men of Letters as you put them, didn’t know about hybrid dragon magic.” Deacy shrugged nonchalantly.

“Now again, why bring this?” I said pointing to the dragon suit.

“You said you never got to test this flight suit out, nor did you think you ever could. Well, you’ve now got the perfect training field.”

“The sanctuary?”

“As well as outside the mountains. This whole sanctuary covers an entire mountain range of forests, geysers and even the sea with ocean cliffs. It’s perfect for all young dragons and it’ll work for you to.”

“I—I don’t know Deacy I—what if someone sees?”

“That’s why we’re doing it now. The only one who would be up is Warren but with me to protect you, I doubt he’ll do anything to stop you.” I looked at him hesitantly until I felt his hand cover mine as it was placed over my helmet, “Please. I’ve longed to fly side by side with my mum ever since I was able to fly.”

“Why must you be so adorable when you pout?” I moaned out as I cupped the side of his face.

“Well my grandfather was a dragon, and my grandmother was a tiny little bunny.”

“You are so full of shit.” I laughed as I shook my head at him. “Okay if my son wants to fly with his mum then who am I to stop him?”

“Yay thank you mum. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.” He chanted as he embraced me in his strong arms.

It took about maybe 10-15minutes to make sure that everything was hooked up right and buckled in. Once I had observed myself in a mirror, I stepped out of the bathroom and as Deacy still sat there on the bed looked up at me he was in awe.

“Whoa.” He got up and began to admire everything about the armor. He stroked over the shoulder pieces, tracing the patterns of the scale-design I had imprinted on the armor. “Is this what activates the wings?” I nodded and he pulled the string and out they popped from my back making me jolt.

“Easy Deacy the string is super sensitive, even a light pull will cause them to open up!” I warned him as I pulled on the string to my right pulling them back into my back.

“When we get done, I’ll give you some of my shedded dragon scales to cover all this up. As I told you dragon scales are as tough as the thickest armor.”

“Even when they’re shedded off?”

“Even when they’re shedded off. Dragon scales remain strong and durable. We’ll just need to sew them or glue them onto the armor.”

“Thanks Deacy, that sounds good.” He nodded with a grin then he said.

“Now grab hold of my hand,” he took my hand and said, “and hang on tight.” His wings came out and we took off flying out of his den and soon out of the sanctuary.

We soon arrived at a sea cliff, he landed and walked towards the edge of it.

“Uhh why are we here?”

“First rule of flying is to get the experience of strong winds blowing your wings giving you that lift. And this is where Stephen, Warren and I take the young dragons to practice just that.” He soon walked up to the very edge before turning back towards me. He merely grinned before extending his arms out and falling backwards.

“Deacon!” I cried out, worried that my son was falling to his death at this point. Soon I heard the sound of air hissing and he soon came back over the cliff, his wings out and his long hair blowing backwards.

Once again was that smug grin on his face as he proceeded to fly around. Allowing the strong winds from the ground to either lift him up or he free fell a couple of feet before allowing himself to be lifted back up again.

He even showed off some fancy flips tucking his wings inward before extending them back out until he flew sideways out of the way of the geysers current and flipping forward down to the ground in front of me. He stuck the landing and said.

“Ta-da.”

“Ehh I’ve seen better.” He gaped at me at my teasing and said,

“Well Mrs. I’ve seen better, maybe a little toss off the cliff will make you change your mind.”

“Deacon I swear to God you push me off this cliff and I’ll come back and haunt your ass for all eternity.”

“I’m kidding mum! I’d never do that to you.” He said as he wrapped his arms around me from behind rocking me side to side. “You ready?”

“You sure this is safe?”

“Just relax, everything that jumps from these geyser cliffs are always floating. Unless you’re a rock I doubt you’ll sink.” He took me over to the side of the cliff and I could already feel the warm wind blowing against my face, like a hairdryer. I looked over my shoulder at Deacy and he nodded.

I took a deep breath and slowly scooted towards the edge but at the last minute I chickened out and said.

“I can’t do this. I’m sorry I can’t! I can’t!”

“Hey, hey mum. Mum.” He cupped my face into his hands and he assured me, “Breathe.” I took a deep breath in before exhaling outward. “Think of flying as our swims at the lake back home. You remember? You’ll feel weightless but just relax and let the wind be your water.” He took my hand and squeezed it tightly.

I whimpered as I looked down at the cliff to see that it was probably 1000 foot drop.

“It’ll be okay. You can do this mum, just close your eyes and take a deep breath.” He pulled the string activating my wings and I put my arms through the loops and took a shaky deep breath in before exhaling as I closed my eyes.

Then I stepped off of the cliff.

I let out a scream but I didn’t feel myself falling. As I slowly opened my eyes I saw myself flying over Deacy’s head. He smiled up at me and he soon joined me. He flew over to me and took my right leg and said.

“Straighten out your legs and put them together.” I did as he told me to do but my feet were pointed downward as normal, “No have your feet in a point. Like one of those ballet moves. There you go!” He flew back towards my front and we were soon hovering face to face of each other.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this!” I exclaimed over the winds of the geysers. Deacy smiled at me before he resumed doing all of his fancy and show-off tricks. Flipping around, diving low before being lifted back high into the air.

But this time as he dove underneath me, he phased into his dragon form and slowly eased himself underneath me. I pulled my wings in just as he was close enough for my legs to wrap around him. I managed to get onto the junction where his neck met his back and I grabbed onto what I could without hurting my son as he now flew out of the way of the geysers and was flying on his own now.

Deacy slowly took off flying high toward the sky in a slow and steady fashion. The sound of his wings flapping every now and again was like the sound of a heartbeat. As we now touched the clouds I couldn’t help but extend my hand out and I felt the fluffy, silk powder of the clouds brush through my fingers.

As we soared through the clouds, I gained a little bit of courage and extended both my hands up like my wings before lifting them up over my head like I was on a rollercoaster. Of course you know I couldn’t contain my cries and laughter of sheer joy and excitement.

I held on as Deacon now did a small loop-d-loop before going even higher so that I now had a clear view of the stars and we even soared over the full moon as the clouds lay below us like an ocean. I was just in awe at the beauty before me as I couldn’t take my eyes off the sky, that was until the clouds gave us a clearing of the entire landscape of Deacon’s home.

The mountains, the ocean, the forest, it was like a perfect paradise where dragons could live in peace and start families of their own. A safe haven.

I saw Deacy turned to look up at me and it almost was like he was smiling up at me. I acknowledged him by lying down across his neck and stroking his neck hearing him purr. Deacon gently dove downward over the ocean and we flew above the water till we reached the shores and that’s when he took off upward over the mountains.

The smile on my face just wouldn’t come off. I don’t know how long it was that we were flying but soon Deacy had taken me to the perfect landmark so that I could see the sunrise over the land. The stars fading away until tomorrow night and the sky turn from a pitch black color to a majestic purplish, pink color of the sunrise.

“Oh Deacy.” I awed out. “I—I have no words to how I feel right now. But if I had to say anything, I’d say…..thank you.” I kissed his dragon neck and he purred lovingly and the two of us continued to watch the sunrise until he decided it was time to head back.

Once we arrived back at the sanctuary and stood before the floor entrance, Deacy lowered his head and adjusted his front leg wing so that I would have an easier dismount. I pulled my right leg over his back and placed my left foot onto his arm without going through the sensitive layer of his wing and then hopped right off. I walked in front of him and he lowered his head towards me.

I placed his hand under his chin and stroked upward making him purr and grumble lovingly.

“Thank you Deacy. That was so worth waking up at 4 in the morning.” He grumbled lowly before opening his mouth and actually licked me.

I screeched out a laugh as my entire face and torso of my armor was now covered with dragon spit. “Deacon!” He then let out what almost sounded like a laugh. “Guess I had that coming to me, given all the wet kisses I’ve given you throughout the years.” He nodded proudly.

It was then with his head, he gently ushered me in the direction of the den. I looked back toward him and he gestured with his head for me to go in. “Guess you’ve got some Alpha business to take care of huh?” He closed his eyes as he softly nodded. “Okay, maybe I can catch up on some sleep.” He let out a soft roar.

I nodded and walked up to him and placed my hand on his nose feeling him exhale strongly.

“Be safe my son.” I then leaned my head against his muzzle and embraced it. I heard him rumble deeply before I released him and stepped back as he looked up toward the sky and lifted himself off the ground with ease and took off flying, giving me a roar for so long. I stayed at the entrance till I saw him fly away over and under the other side of the mountain.

I smiled as I waved to him before heading back into the safety of the den and back to Deacon’s room before any of the dragons saw me, or worse Sam, Dean or Cas.

Everyday for the next week was pretty much the same when it came to Deacon and me. He’d wake me up at the but crack of dawn and we’d go out and practice my flying skills. The geysers helped me with my aerial control and of course riding with Deacy got me the feel of flying like a real dragon. Finally Deacy decided that it was time for a different sort of flight, he had me meet him late one night before going to bed and explained to me that on our next flight, he’d let me control his movements and flight patterns.

Of course me being held with so much responsibilities I was nervous, hold on that’s not the right word. I was freakin terrified. But with some assurance he somehow managed to convince me to do it. So he taught me the best way he would be able to feel what I wanted him to do.

If I wanted him to go right, I’d lightly kick my right leg against him and the same vice versa for left. If I wanted him to fly upward, then I would stroke his neck upward, and if I wanted him to do a dive then I’d just lean my whole body against his neck before lifting myself up for him to fly normally.

We practiced the signals a few times until finally Deacy with an old ship’s sail allowed me to blindfold him and at the early peaks of dawn we took off flying.

Play video

We were now hovering over the ocean over some light clouds that hung about the sky in the evenings.

“Okay Deacy, you sure you still want me to go through with this?” I asked hesitantly hoping that he’d say no. Unfortunately for me he didn’t as he nodded and grunted out a determined huff. I groaned inwardly as Deacy continued the fly blindly for a bit, slowly leaning sideways circling before flying outward again. “Okay, I can do this, I can do this.”

I then leaned my body against him and immediately, Deacy took a nosedive down towards the ocean till I leaned back up and he now flew normally, allowing only his wing to skim across the water.

“That’s my boy! That’s my boy.” I said as we headed towards a sea cliff bridge. Seeing the opening I prayed that Deacy would just fly straight through the hole and not hurt himself. Thankfully we went through just as the seagulls from above flew out from their nesting posts high on the cliffs.

“Yes I did it!” I exclaimed as I kicked my right leg and he turned but I was distracted as I had my son hit his side up along the sea cliff. “Sorry!” I reared him to the left but suddenly another boulder was there and his lower left side was hit and I said, “My fault.” He roared at me and I said. “I know, I know focus sorry. I’m not doing this on purpose I swear!” Once we were clear of the sea cliffs I stroked his neck upward and he huffed as he immediately took off flying upward.

Deacon flew upward as fast as he could and I couldn’t help but cheer.

“Yeah! Go baby boy!” Oh god this was awesome! The wind in my hair, the adrenaline pumping through my body. And Deacy seemed to enjoy himself as I heard him roar proudly and a grin across his face.

But then something went wrong.

As we hovered over the air for a brief moment, I felt myself being lifted off of Deacon’s back. I soon felt myself in midair before I started plummeting thousands of feet to my death.

“Deacy! DEACON HELP!!!” I saw him look down and shake the blindfold off of him and he tried to dive down quickly to save me. “OH GOD!!! OH SHIT!!!” I kept screaming as I was freefalling, spinning out of control. I didn’t know what to do, I was in mid-panic.

“MUM YOUR WINGS!! PULL YOUR WINGS OUT!!!” I heard him say. I looked up to see him back in human form still trying to reach out for me.

“BUT WHY CAN’T YOU JUST GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS MESS!?”

“JUST DO IT MUM!!!” He cried down at me. “HURRY!” I soon found myself nose diving and so I tried to get a grip on the string and soon my wings came out and I was now upwards like an angel with wings but I was still falling down past the mist.

Shit now I can’t even see what’s in front of my face. So this was it, this was how I was going to die. But then something that Deacon once said to me about the important thing about flying.

“Never think with your head, flying comes from gut instinct.” As I saw a huge boulder just a few feet away from me, something suddenly came over me. I closed my wings for a brief second to pull my helmet down over my face then reactivated my wings and stirred right.

Left, right, right, hard left, up and over, bring wings in, spin through the hole and deploy wings once more. It was all instinct as I used the air currents to guide me through the maze of boulders and sea cliffs in this thick mist before finally I came out and was still flying over the ocean.

All by myself.

The suit works. It works! Oh my god I just did that! I really just did that! Oh my god this was fucking awesome! I did it! I flew like a dragon!

“YEEEEEAAAAAH!!!” I screamed out.

*Deacon’s POV*

She did it. I knew she could do it. All she needed was that little push and all be damn, she did it. She was now an officially honorary dragon.

*My POV*

After a very successful test run with the suit and finding out that it works in a real life scenario, I was just overjoyed. Deacon and I were now in the forest and I couldn’t help but tackle my son embracing him tightly.

“Did you see that?! Did you see that!? I flew the suit flew ohh! You were right it does fly.”

“Didn’t I tell you? And you wouldn’t believe me.” He mocked.

“I’m sorry, okay you mighty Alpha dragon you were right and I a mere mortal was wrong. Does that help your ego any?” I teased.

“If anything it’ll give him an even bigger head than he already has.” A voice soon spoke up. We both turned around alarmed and soon four wings came into view as landing down before us was none other than Stephen.

“Stephen, what—what are you…..”

“Doing here? I thought you should remember that you gave me the night watch for this week? But I guess your mind was occupied with other things.” He said first looking at Deacy before turning to face me at his last statement. I looked down shamefully but then saw Stephen’s feet standing in my vision and he looked at me and asked, “May I?” he gestured towards my suit.

I nodded giving him permission and he first took hold of the wings lifting them upward feeling the texture of them. “Incredible.” I heard him mutter. He then went to grab my helmet that was now on the ground and observed it closely, “Real dragon scales. Probably from our alpha’s shedded ones. Same thing for the rest of your armor.” He felt around the armored plates of my shoulder pads, before looking me straight in the eyes.

I felt his hand gently cup my face and he smiled softly as his deep blue eyes were just beaming with awe.

“A human learning the ways of our people. Never did I think I would live to see the day.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment.” I asked wearily.

“On the contrary, you might just be our salvation.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“A good story for another time, c’mon we should be getting back.” Deacon said.

“Deacy—”

“Now mum.” He demanded. I sighed heavily and spoke not another word and got onto his dragon back as he continued to glare at Stephen as he now took off flying back towards the den.

Later that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Stephen was meaning so I decided to pay the half breed a visit. I was told by Apophis that at this time of the day Stephen is either schooling the young dragons or off meditating somewhere. As I once again left the den and ventured through the forests, I soon heard Stephen’s voice saying.

“Good work Neville. Excellent improvement Ginny. Keep those legs tucked in Harry.” I walked through some bushes to see Stephen surrounded by what looked like over 30 baby dragons all practicing their flying. I smiled softly, so the half breed of the nest is actually a teacher to all young dragons. “Good sharp turn there Jared,” it was then he turned around and saw me. “Well seems we have an unexpected guest.”

“Hey, it’s the mama dragon!” one of the young dragons called out.

“Let’s get her!” Soon they all flew towards me and before I could even react I was soon tackled by dozens of little boys and girls all talking over each other asking me questions. I laughed as I tried to break free of their dragon glomp.

“Hang on I—I need to breathe!” I laughed out.

“Alright off of her you lot!” Stephen ordered and they soon got off of me. “Sorry, they always get excited when someone comes to see them practice their flying.” Stephen apologized as he helped me stand up.

“Oh trust me, Deacy was this energetic at their age so thankfully I’m used to it.”

“Miss Mama dragon are you secretly like us?” a little boy dragon asked me. I looked down at my armor and said.

“Well not really, see this suit I built helps me to fly around. I can’t fly without this suit.”

“Why not?”

“Jareth, I’ve answered that question to you hundreds of times before.” Stephen said.

“Yeah but I want to hear it from the source.” Jareth looked up to me with pleading eyes and I explained.

“Well, you see unlike you dragons we humans aren’t born with wings. In order for us to fly we’d either need the help of a very large machine called an airplane to get us from place to place.” He nodded in understandment.

“Okay everyone, I think for today I will let you all go a little early. Back to the den, no wondering off.” The children all cheered and they took off flying.

“No different from human children when it comes to getting out of class early.” I said.

“I try not to be boring with my lessons.”

“And I don’t doubt you are. You seem to make school a bit more exciting, at least with you classes would always be outside, instead of a poorly lit room.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could give me some answers.” I said. His face grew solemn and he said.

“I can assure you that Deacon would have my ass if he knew I told you the truth.”

“Which is why he won’t hear about it from me. Being with the Winchesters has taught me a thing or two. And one of them is lying. So c’mon Stephen what did you mean that I could be your salvation?” He sighed heavily and said.

“Walk with me.” We then walked deeper into the forest.

“As you know; not all humans are good. Not just the threat of hunters but poachers as well. In our case we deal with a lot of dragon trappers. More common here in the UK than anywhere else. America is rare with their trappers because there are hardly any dragons in America nowadays.”

“That I do know. That’s how I found Deacy, but then again you probably knew that.” He cleared his throat before continuing.

“Well, this home, this sanctuary. We’ve only lived here for about a year and a half. We’ve been moving from home to home trying to find a safe haven for all of us. From the famed dragon trapper and poacher, Percy Theodore-George Anderson.”

“Wait, wait. You mean like the Theodore Saint George, the Dragon Slayer?”

“Yes, unfortunately. His heritage even traces back to Saint George’s bloodline. He’s known for most of the dragon killings throughout all of Europe. And for the past 4 years, he’s been after us. Especially Deacy, because of him being the Alpha dragon.” I was shocked.

My son—was being hunted. As was his entire nest. And he was suffering this for 4 years now? I looked down as Stephen continued,

“I know that you and the Winchesters mainly save people, but I was hoping that with you being Deacon’s mother, perhaps you could help us find a new home. For all of us. I know it’s a huge responsibility but I can feel that with Percy’s constant threat breathing down his neck, I can feel like Deacon’s losing his confidence to protect us. And if he does, then we all do.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder and said.

“It may be difficult to convince the guys, but even if they won’t I still will. Whatever it takes.” He smiled and suddenly embraced me. Of course I was stunned at first but I knew this must’ve meant a lot to him.

He was my son’s dearest friend after all, and I can’t ever repay him for looking after my boy all this time when I couldn’t. I happily embraced Stephen back before separating and he nuzzled his head against mine. A common dragon form of affection I’ve learned while being here.

“If you don’t mind me asking; how did you meet Deacy?” he looked down and said.

“That’s a long story.”

“Well lucky for me I love long stories.” He softly chuckled and soon we found ourselves to sit down right by the side of a lake.

“My story is….well to say the least a tragic one. I’m not proud of what I’ve done in my past but, I can’t deny that it happened. As you know my father was a dragon and my mum was a witch. Their relationship was—well not out of love. In fact my own mum could barely stand the sight of me. So at the young age of 10, I came home from school to find her gone.”

He looked down at the water to his reflection in disgust as he continued.

“For years I hated myself for what I was. No witch covenant that I came across wanted me because of my dragon genes, and no dragon nest acknowledged me because I was impure due to my witch blood. So I spent most of my life as an outcast. A loner in the lands of South Wales, before finally finding and settling a private farm just 20 miles from London.”

“I know the feeling of being alone. I mean, even with Deacy I was still alone.”

“But never did I think in my whole life, would I come across the one good thing in my life.” His eyes showed solemnness, remembrance but also pain.

“A dragoness?” He shook his head. “A witch?” again he shook his head.

“Believe it or not, she was human. Anita. The second I laid eyes on her when she came stumbling into my homeland, it was—like a force had come into my life. And she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met. I took her in, gave her a safe home and eventually we fell in love.”

“Did she—”

“Know of what I was?” he finished my question. I nodded worriedly that I had offended him but he said, “Eventually I did. At first I thought I had lost her forever, especially since she was human and everything humans saw as ‘different from them was a monster’. But not Anita. She accepted me for who I was, what I was. Both sides of me. From then on I knew I had found the love of my life.”

Stephen place his fingers into the water and his hand glowed a warm golden color as the water took shape of a vision of a beautiful woman with blonde hair and green eyes. In her hair were what looked like wildflowers, her skin was porcelain and delicate so I could see why he fell for her. Hell I know Charlie would.

“We spent years together, until eventually she gave me the greatest gift I could ever hope for.” The image changed to him holding Anita in his arms, but what caught my attention was that he was now cradling her baby bump stomach. “We had a daughter. Hannah. And she was just the splitting image of her mother.”

“Oh Stephen.”

“But as I’m sure you know; happiness never lasts long.”

“Hold on, let me stop you there. To spare you the pain of reliving it, I think I can take a wild guess of what happened. Hunters found out about you and killed your wife and daughter in retaliation.”

“If only it were that easy.” He said grimly. My heart stopped and I tilted my head to the side and guessed again.

“Was it—witches? Dragons?”

“I only wish.” He took a deep breath in before exhaling and turning towards me saying, “Let’s just say you and I have a common hatred. Tell me, what was it that killed your parents?”

No.

I placed my hand over my mouth and he said.

“I should never have left the house. But Hannah she—she was sick. I left to find some herbs that would help her feel better……” he trailed off as he sniffled and wiped the tears from falling down his face as he looked up. “It took so long to find them, but just in the barn, there Anita was—still holding Hannah in her arms, a pool of blood surrounding the both of them, their clothes coated in the red vile substance.”

The vision of both Anita and little girl Hannah faded away as the water rippled. I looked to Stephen to see him now look grim and stoic.

“I was in utter grief. I blamed myself every day for leaving them defenseless.”

“You couldn’t have known Stephen. Just like I didn’t. You were doing a greater cause though; you were trying to help your daughter get better. And I…..had I probably lived here and known of your case; I would’ve put a stop to those Vampires. No one deserves to lose their family like that, I would know firsthand. Be thankful they didn’t make you watch as they drained their lives though.” I leaned myself against his side giving him a comforting hug.

But that’s when Stephen dropped a bombshell on me.

“If only you were born 400 years ago.” I looked at him shocked. He—he was over 400 years old!?! “As you know witches can keep their youth up with their magic. I told you I’m not proud of my past, I did whatever I took to stay as young as I could in order to one day find the Vampire nest that took my family from me. Until then; I figured that if I were to lose my family, then so should everyone else.”

Oh god Stephen you didn’t…..

“Anywhere I went, if I so much as came across a happy family, it was either hex bags or burning the entire family inside. It wasn’t until about 20 years ago that I came across the nest that killed my family. Of course blinded by rage I didn’t hesitate to burn them all alive, and when I came across the head vampire of the nest, the one who had bragged about draining my little girl’s life as she cried out for me and flaunted wearing the very necklace I had once given her as a present. I made sure—his death was agonizingly slow.” He then pulled out a small silver necklace with a ruby gem at the center. “As I took this back from him, I told him ‘never flaunt a piece of your killing before a dragon-warlock.’ And so he burned for eternity. I think the fire might still be burning to this day.”

“You hexed him didn’t you?”

“To be burned for all eternity but to never turn to ash or die. He will know every single day of the amount of pain he had caused me.”

“And Deacon? He just—found you one day?”

“To put it yes. You taught him well on how to detect the findings of supernatural cases. It was about 6 years ago in Leicester where I was going to take my next target of a family of hunters who had been poking into my business. So I baited them with a case and waited until the parents left so that I could burn their happiness away. But it wasn’t until I saw their daughter sleeping on the couch. A box of tissues lying next to her and a damp rag across her head. It—reminded me of Hannah. Seeing that child sleeping like that, smelling ill it—opened something up inside of me. The lost father instinct I guess. And it was there I met Deacon.”

“He was helping them?”

“I suppose so.”

“Deacy said that you knew who he was, did you know right there in the hunter’s home?”

“Yes. One sniff of his scent and a single look into his eyes, I knew that he had the blood of the Alpha within him. I was shocked to put it lightly, I didn’t even know an Alpha dragon still lived. We dragons are rare in ourselves but an Alpha is even rarer to come by. But one look at him and I knew who I was dealing with. After taking him away from the hunters when they came back, I brought him to my cave and we just—talked.”

“Meaning you explained to him what he really was.”

“As well as introductions. Where he had come from, and he told me that I had a second chance to redeem myself. Of course I thought he was joking but he brought up the hunters’ daughter. If I had truly lost myself I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her, but I did.”

“Well I can defiantly see why he would think that. If you were truly past the point of no return, and believe me I’ve seen some serious killers, hell I’ve seen soulless people. But if someone like you who had been killing families for over 400 years, stopped at the sight of a sick little girl, then there is some light within that darkened heart.” I placed my hand over his heart to emphasize my message.

“Now I see where our Alpha gets his wisdom from.” Stephen spoke with a warm smile. I smiled back and merely shrugged. “So now flashforward to today for the past 6 years now, I have been a teacher to every young dragon that is born into our nest. It’s like—regaining back the fatherhood I had lost so long ago.”

“It suits you, they all seem to love you.”

“That’s only because I go soft on them, Deacy’s a bit of a tough love instructor, as you may have seen up in the air earlier this morning on your flying lesson.”

“Wait you—oh fuck no! You mean he—”

“He does that all the time with the young ones. Trickster you might call him.” Oh that boy is going to pay dearly for that stunt. “He and Apophis are pretty much the same, and Warren well—he’s more of the drill sergeant. That’s why he mostly handles the sparring part of young dragon training.”

“I can imagine why.” I muttered. There was silence between us for a moment before he said.

“It’s starting to get dark out.” I looked up to see that the sky was signaling that the sun was about to set. When I turned back to Stephen I saw that he was now in dragon form. He held out his front leg and I mounted onto his back and he took off flying back towards the den.

When we finally arrived back at the den, I got off his back and he told me.

‘Well you should get some rest, want you up bright and early tomorrow morning for your lessons.’

“Lessons?”

‘Yes. You’ll be joining the ranks of the young dragons in my class.’

“You mean it?” he nodded and he took off flying. He kept his eyes on me and said.

‘Remember to meet us out here at 8am sharp. Don’t be late.’ I nodded then he took off flying for his duties.

Okay then, looks like I’m going to dragon school, should be interesting.

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

Text

Truth Pt. 5

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Request: What’s up sug! sorry you’re struggling right now but I’ve come to help you If you could bring this to light for me I’d absolutely love for YOU TO DO JT So basically Bucky X Enhanced reader who are fuckin enemies. Hate each other to every last fiber of their beings bc Bucky is rude and she calls him out on it. AnywHs, they get drunk, truth or dare (go crZy baby) and LOTS LF dirty talk if u wanna do smut but if u don’t then buck taking care of her while she’s drunk cause she admitted her feelings

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Enhanced)

Summary: Since The Avengers gave you a home the only blight has been Bucky Barnes, a ghost from your past that you can’t seem to shake. It makes you hate him. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. But… a simple game reveals that maybe things aren’t quite so simple. (Post Winter Soldier AU)

Warnings: Physical violence, (non-major) character death, blood

A/N: First fic of 2019!!! WOO! And it’s a fucking doozy... I’ve never written a battle like this before so it was certainly an adventure. I hope it reads well.

This damn fucking story. How did I get here?! I feel like I’ve been hijacked and held for ransom. But... I like it...? I’m also enjoying really working some of the other Avengers into this.

Anyway I hope you’re enjoying the ride this enemies to lovers thing is taking us all on!

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @peachthatdrinkslemonade @breezy1415 @wonderlandmind4 @handplucked @piensa-bonito @midnightdream83 @buckysstar

Four days later Tony’s voice pipes up while you’re making your first cup of coffee.

“Hey Sparky,” his somewhat endearing nickname for you, “we got a job to do. Meet in the briefing room in an hour.”

“You got it, boss.”

Perfect. A mission was exactly what you needed to get your mind off of everything. Sure he’d be there but your focus would be on the task at hand not what happened between you. Plus it would feel good to fuck some Hydra agents up.

Sam barrels into you on your way to the briefing room, “Where the hell you been, girl?”

You shrug, “Around.”

He huffs, “We need to work on that move soon. Stark thinks he’s got the wings just right so they can deflect your energy and not freak out.”

“Oh, nice! So you can be my own personal jetpack!”

“I was thinking you’d be my laser gun, but to each their own.”

“I should really get my finger gun skills up to par then.” You hold your hands up in the quintessential finger gun style and make points of light glow at the tips of your middle and index fingers.

“If you could get on that immediately it would be great,” Sam laughs, “and be sure to make the ‘pew pew’ noise as you shoot those assholes down.” Continuing down the hall you both proceed to make shooting noises at the other laughing at your ridiculousness.

Before getting to the door you pause and enact a dramatic battle ending. Someone sighs audibly behind you. Bucky, er Barnes, whatever, stands, hands shoved in his pockets looking truly put upon by your display.

“Man, how is it you can ruin a good time without saying a damn word?” Sam grumbles at him.

“It’s a gift,” Bucky responds dryly.

You put a hand on Sam’s arm, “Come on, we’ll finish our battle when the geriatric isn’t around.” Casting Bucky a sidelong glance you head inside and take your usual spot.

Hovering above the table is an image of a low non-nondescript building in an industrial area, a live feed from one of Tony’s stealth drones, schematics, and personnel info. On the table, are pastries. You grab a cronut and pass another down to Nat who sits to your right.

Tony sighs before beginning, that was never a particularly good sign. “So this place,” he makes the static image fill the viewing area, “came on our radar a couple of months ago. Natasha and Clint tried to do some recon but came up pretty cold.”

“Yeah,” Nat pipes up, “there’s obviously set personnel there, shipments coming in of what seem to be medical supplies, but other than that it seems pretty neutral.”

“Where is it?” Sam asks.

“Just outside of Chicago,” Steve replies. “Mainly an industrial region but there are suburbs not far away.” Suburbs meant civilians. Sam runs a hand over his face.

“Either of you, know anything about this one?” Tony points to you and Bucky. For a second you hold one another’s stare, a tingle inches up your spine.

“I don’t,” you answer tearing your eyes away. “The medical shipments could mean something but it could also just be a way station for them. They had plenty of those.”

“Are we sure it’s Hydra?” Bucky asks not directly answering Tony’s question.

“I’m assuming you don’t know anything about this one either, Manchurian Candidate?” Bucky nods.

“We’re sure,” Clint says. “We found reference to it in the Hydra files from S.H.I.E.L.D. but no information other than the location.” That was pretty standard.

You sigh, “Schematics?” There had been some kind of blueprint on the screen a minute ago.

Tony flicks his hand bringing it up, “Barely. I have the actual blueprint of the building but the draw on the power grid here implies there’s more than what we’re seeing.” He pushes the map to the side and brings up the live feed, “I’ve been scanning it for 24 hours to see if I can get a read but there’s something blocking it that I can’t get past.”

He moves his hands to bring everything up in equal measure for you all to study. Once Tony thinks enough time has passed he speaks, “So, what do we think? Go in with what we have or sit on it?” He’s asking the room but looking at Steve, the two of them being the unofficial leaders here.

“If we sit on it there is a chance people could get hurt and if we go in there’s the same chance. I don’t like going in practically blind but I don’t know that we can risk letting any Hydra base we find fester for long.” Steve says, nods of agreement from around the table from everyone but Bucky. “Maybe we take a small team, ground ops.” That meant you, him, Bucky, and Natasha. Great.

“I’m ok with that, it’s too close to residences for my comfort,” Bruce says, relief visible. He would have gone if asked but he’s so happy to not have to.

“I’m happy to hang back for backup if needed,” Sam says. Steve nods.

“If you think that’s the best call. We will all be close by in case. Except for you Banner,” Tony gives him a reassuring nod.

“Let’s suit up then,” Steve says and with that, you all disperse.

[Bucky]

The jet lands a few miles away from the targeted location and you all load up into an armored van. In the close quarters, he swears he can smell your shampoo, something with vanilla. It makes him think of burying his face in your neck. Not the time, Buck. He thinks to himself.

Other than the exchange this morning he hadn’t seen you save for that glimpse in the gym. Neither of you had exchanged a word still and were actively avoiding the other. However, as Sam drives over a particularly rough patch of road, sending the four of you jostling a bit your eyes meet and he swears they sparkle just a touch in the near black of the van.

He doesn’t like this mission. Not one bit. Steve told him he was being paranoid. This would likely be like most of the others, a partially deserted base with a handful of people, easy enough to take out. Something ate at him though. He just wished he knew what it was or that he had a few days to work it out…

The van stops. If everything was going according to plan Sam was walking around to open the doors from inside a deserted warehouse a couple of blocks away. As they open Bucky braces himself, already prepared for things to go south. It’s just Sam though, exactly where they were supposed to be.

Steve senses his tension and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

“Come on Ms. Daisy, we don’t have all fuckin’ day,” Sam jabs. Bucky hops out, on alert and the three of you follow. Sam gets in the back where you all were, hitting a button that makes the cabin come to life with Stark tech. “I’ll be your eye in the sky. Go get ‘em.”

Outside the building, you all pause, waiting for the all clear from Sam, once given you stalk inside. It’s quiet, very quiet. A generic two-story industrial workspace opens before you, housing some kind of metalworking machinery, and offices toward the back.

Sam’s voice comes in quietly over the coms, “I’m not reading any life signs besides y’all in the building right now.” That wasn’t right because they knew five men had come in earlier and you hadn’t seen them leave.

You crouch down and lay your hands on the ground, light pulsing around your fingers. Nodding you say, “There’s something under us. I can feel the heat.”

“Think you can blow the power?” Steve asks you.

“Not without blowing the whole block out,” you respond.

Bucky can’t shut up, “That’s a bad call.” He gives Steve a steady stare. “It’ll immediately alert them of our presence.”

“Got a better plan?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, we leave.”

“No dice,” Nat says as she whips out a gun and shoots two guards heading down the stairs by the offices. Shit.

“Blow it,” Steve says looking at you. Bucky shakes his head but you ignore him. Laying your hands on the ground they start to glow, pulling in kinetic energy before you send a low pulse that blasts every electrical circuit in range.

A siren can be heard from underground, “What the hell did I say?” Bucky growls running and taking out the few others coming down.

Steve barrels ahead toward the offices, you hot on his heels, no doubt assuming an access point is somewhere back there. A minute later him and Natasha catch up to you. Things are quiet again, save for the low wail of the siren.

Natasha ducks into an office, “Here,” she hisses. As she hits a button the desk moves to reveal stair access. This had to be an old facility, Bucky hadn’t seen something so rudimentary in decades.

Slowly you all descend. Steve at the front, shield up. Bucky right behind him, as always. Then Nat and you bringing up the rear. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s no one, no rushing guards or panicked drones. Just a long hallway extending to the left and right flooded with red light and that maddening sound. As if to say told you so Steve glances back at Bucky a small smile on his lips.

As soon as four agents come barreling toward them Bucky makes a mental note to slap Steve upside the head, with his left hand, the next time the opportunity presents itself.

[Reader]

When you see the agents shooting down the hallway you groan internally. Something told you this was going to be a shit show and these guys were just the opening act.

“Get down!” you say loud enough for your team to hear and shoot a concentrated bar of energy toward the assailants. It was… gruesome. You were used to it. But hopefully, the sight of their comrades mangled smoking bodies would deter anyone from coming from that direction.

“Split,” Steve orders. Automatically you and Natasha head the direction of the agents you took out, effortlessly avoiding the gore.

There’s a lot of electricity being used here. What you had knocked out was only a fraction. You can feel the whirring of maybe a hundred or more heavy duty generators under the building, and it’s hot, oven hot. This is great for you because it gives you plenty of ammo, knowing this she lets you take the lead.

The slightest sound of footsteps greet your ears and a small grunt comes from Nat. You spin on your heels. There’s a woman with her arms around Natasha’s neck. She’s… muzzled. Shit. An asset, not an agent. Nat and you have a system though. Spinning around, acting as though she’s trying to free herself she puts the asset in your line. Laying your hand on her head you put her down, quickly, painlessly.

When she falls Natasha notices the muzzle. Her eyes find yours, the silent, You good, passing between you. You nod and keep going. Hoping this was a one-off.

Silence, still, save for the siren. The presence of the generators is bothering you. Everything is lit by that red emergency light. But those things were running something.

The floor plan seems to be a loop because you hear the boys scuffling just to your right as the hallway opens to a large open space. Papers are scattered, drawers tumped over, desks on their side people left here fast.

“Sam,” you ask into the com. Nothing but static. Fuck. There was definitely something here blocking the signal.

Steve and Bucky round the corner. Immediately you seek out Bucky’s eyes but you don’t have to see them to get the answer to your question. In his left hand is a muzzle, blood dripping from it to the floor.

Goddamnit. These were the worst kind of fights, taking out your own. And there was never any way to tell without prior intel who was a Hydra devotee and who had been taken against their will. The only reason Steve pulled you instead of killing you was the intel they had on you from Bucky and a bit from the Hydra files to corroborate.

You swallow the bile in your throat, fighting the phantom feeling on the muzzle over your face, and keep going. Focus on the mission. Clear the facility. That was your job.

“I don’t think there’s anyone left,” Natasha says behind you. Desperately you want her to be right but you know she’s not. Those generators.

“Let’s be sure,” Steve says slowly stalking forward as Bucky tosses the muzzle to the ground. When your eyes meet he doesn’t really see you. That’s fine.

There’s a glass partition after the empty open office space. Doors leading further underground. Power licks up your arms, hot and throbbing. This is where the generators are pumping uninterrupted electricity you realize as you enter what appears to be a medical site. A memory tickles the back of your brain.

Bucky and Steve are at the front, methodically swiveling into each small room, opening each curtain, you and Natasha poised to take out anything or anyone that may emerge. Another open space is ahead. Your mouth goes dry. You hiss in a sound and something like a whining growl comes from Bucky.

A chair.

Every muscle in your body tenses. A hot burning throb lashes up your spine. You can see the plates in Bucky’s arm shift up and down again and again in response to the panic.

This was an Asset Facility. This was a place where they tore people apart and stitched them back together in Hydra’s image. It was in places like this you and Bucky had been made or rather... unmade… You just didn’t think there were any in the states… Stupid assumption. So far, though, all the team had found were R&D facilities, way stations, and holding sites. Not hell mouths like this.

Steve approaches the chair, he knows what it is even if he hadn’t seen one in person. “Don’t,” Bucky grinds out. You’re thankful for it. Seeing someone approach it fills you with a dread you can’t name. Steve looks back at his best friend and you can see the horror, anger, and worry blend on his face.

The sound of a large metal lock echoes over the now distant wail of the siren. Everyone is frozen for a second… And that second is everything.

A strangely familiar bolt of heat shoots your direction. It’s not accurate buzzing and pulsing random bits of energy rather than a knife blade like yours. Bucky pulls Steve down and you grab Natasha. It slams into the steel wall behind you and a groaning sound resonates.

Looking up you see someone, head shorn, muzzled but in a hospital gown. They’re bone thin, dirty, head twitching, chair marks fresh on their face. All across their body are white tendrils of light glowing. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You can’t think, can’t move, can only see this person and know they feel like they’re inside of a lightning storm, you know they feel like their atoms are being torn apart bit by bit and they can’t stop it or contain it. They can’t even scream out in pain for fucks sake.

Natasha takes a shot but the asset dodges. You come back to yourself then and hurl Nat away as you catch a ball of energy thrown at her. It throbs then snakes its way into your body, burning, through you as you absorb it.

You scream in pain but raise to your feet. Steve attempts to throw his shield at them and instead takes a messy lash of hot energy across the chest. This asset is fast, even if their release is crude.

“Steve!” Bucky bellows and catches him. You look back to the asset keeping their distance and see them pulse bright and hot all over. Fuck. Bucky sees it too and literally throws Steve at you while rushing for the shield.

You catch him, he’s conscious, though he’s going to be feeling this for at least a week. “Get them the fuck out of here, Y/N!” Roaring Bucky charges the asset and you realize he is just trying to hold them off, give you all enough time before they blow. Shit.

“No!” Steve yells as you drag him along. You do as Bucky says and get them to the entrance of the med ward when you hear a loud crackle. Bucky roars. Steve looks at you, not Captain America at this moment but a scared kid horrified he’s going to lose the only family he has left.

“Take him,” you say. Natasha nods holding Steve’s arm over her shoulder. “Do not stop. Get to the van. Get as far away as you can. Don’t wait for us. Go!” You spin on your heels and bolt back the way you came.

They’re too close to one another for you to take a shot. The asset is on Bucky, an inhuman noise coming from behind the muzzle. God, this was you at some point. Some wraith with only one goal in mind. Kill the target.

You let loose a blast of energy next to them and the asset’s focus shoots to you. Now that you’re a little closer you can see them more clearly, a woman, her skin bubbling and burned, body unable to contain this force that lived within you both.

Bucky moves under her and her focus shoots back to the easier of the two targets present. Another sound comes from her and he throws her back, using the shield for leverage. She slams against the wall. Bucky looks at you, his expression murderous.

There isn’t any time to waste. You see the pulse of light before he does. In an instant you’re in front of him, catching more of that undisciplined energy. It sears its way into you as you try to wrangle it but you hold in your scream, not wanting Steve or Nat to somehow hear and come back.

She’s suffering, this woman before you. A part of you wishes you could save her, help her, but you know the only way to ease her pain is release. With that thought, you direct her own energy back at her blasting a neat five-inch hole straight through her heart. The energy in her body pulses but dissipates as she collapses to the ground eyes seeing nothing, body feeling no more pain. Something in you goes dark when she does.

You know Bucky is ok enough to not need immediate attention if any, so you run the direction the asset came needing to know that there wasn’t another. He calls your name but you ignore him. No one was going to suffer like that anymore on your watch. There are only two cells, sensibly most Asset Facilities only worked on one or two projects at a time.

One cell is open, clearly, the one the woman had come from. The other is locked but you fry the old lock and pry it open. The sight inside is gruesome, a body, charred beyond recognition. They had burned out in here alone. You slam the door shut and stride back the way you came.

He’s kneeling over the woman, taking her muzzle off. Slowly, almost delicately he closes her eyes.

“We’re clear,” you bark and keep heading out. You pause, turn, and send a burning bolt of power, hot enough to melt some of the metal and render it useless straight to the chair.

“What the fuck!” He was far enough from it to not be hurt, not far enough to not be startled. You say nothing.

As soon as you emerge in the above ground space you hear the com signal open. “We’re clear,” you say again.

“Thank god,” Tony’s voice responds. They’ve pulled up outside the building. Exactly what you told them not to do. You burn a bit with annoyance.

As you exit Bucky spins you around. “What the fuck did I say?!” He’s in your face screaming, feeling so much more emotion than you right now you almost envy him. “I said get them out,” he gestures to Steve and Natasha.

“We’re out Bucky don’t-“

“I wasn’t talking to you Rodgers,” Bucky’s tone is icy as he cuts him off.

Rather than respond you let the heat build up under his hands. Hotter and hotter until he hisses pulling the flesh one away, the metal staying put for a moment until it’s glowing red. No one moves and he finally let's go.

You grab him by the neck, spinning him a bit and forcing him down on the ground, straddling him the way she had. It takes an instant. There’s the rustle of bodies around you but you hold up your left arm, lashing tendrils of light curl around it in warning.

“Next time,” you hiss your breath making clouds in the cooling air around you, “I’ll just fucking let you die.” You release him.

When you stand everyone is staring at you. Unsure, afraid. Good. He was right. They needed to remember what kind of monsters were among them.

#bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #avengers au

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shysupernaturalfangirl · 5 years

Text

Different - Dean Winchester x Reader - Part Five

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing(s): Dean x Reader

World: Reverse French Mistake AU

Word Count: 2,497

Warning(s): Cussing, Suggestive Implications, PTSD, Nightmares, Past-Abuse, Bad Memories, DEATH of minor-characters.

Summary: It’s every fan-girl’s dream to either, end up in the world of their fantasies, their fandom, or to wind up with on of the actors or characters. There is a couple thousand fanfictions with such circumstances. She never thought in her wildest dreams, that she’d actually end up in a fanfiction situation.

Taglist: @sillydecoy @blackeyedangel9805 @heythereamigodude @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo @seppys-return-to-madness @jaylarkson

~3rd POV~

“That should be it.” Castiel says as Dean puts the last ingredient into the bowl, and Sam crushes the potion together with a pestle in the a mortal and pestle.

“So, do I eat it?” Dean asks, eyeing the dry potion like he’s ready to swallow the whole thing if need be.

“No, mix it with the chamomile tea,” Castiel answers.

“Which is why you didn’t have us add the chamomile in the mortar.” Sam answers wisely.

“Yes, the tea will allow Dean to drink the potion safely, and he must drink it all- it will put him directly to sleep, and allow his conscious to enter Emily’s mind.” Castiel looks to Dean. “Now remember, nothing you find in there is real. It cannot hurt you physically, though it may feel like it. Incubus are sneaky, they make the glamour thick- multiple layers, each dark, but you can just think of a weapon, and it should materialize. To Emily, everything will seem real, it’ll be your job to convince her otherwise. Protect her, but she must give the final blow to whatever has her trapped, in order for her to defeat it.”

“Alright.” Dean nods as Sam hands him a cup, and he crosses to sit on the bed beside the young woman. “I’m coming in, Em. Sorry for the invasion of privacy.” He says, before downing the thick tea as fast as he can. Sam catches the cup in his hand as it goes slack, Dean falls back into the pillows and blankets, passing out with Emily’s hand in his own. Sam and Castiel exchange nervous looks, but neither says anything.

Dean appears in the middle of a deserted road, rain pouring down around him as kids run through the yards, laughing and splashing through the puddles. Five feet away, standing on a porch, is a young girl that looks slightly familiar, her fire red locks are blowing in the rain-soaked wind, her trembling hand on the doorknob. Dean doesn’t seem to notice that the rain isn’t touching him as he jogs towards the girl, pausing on the bottom step of the porch, hand on the railing to get a better look. The house is nice, though lacking bear maintenance, not that the girl seems to mind, or notice, as she grips the knob in her hand tighter. Wait, she definitely is familiar. Dean thinks to himself, slowly reaching towards her. “Emily?” The girl whirls around, fright on her face.

“W-Who are you? What do you want?!” She demands, causing Dean to frown, before Castiel’s instructions flash through his mind again, and he kneels before the red headed girl.

“My name is Dean Winchester. Why are you outside in this weather?” He asks softly.

“My mommy and daddy are fighting, so they sent me to grandma’s. But Grandma left for a vacation today, so I came home. Mommy and Daddy don’t like when I interrupt their fighting. They get angry.” Young Emily explains, causing Dean to nod.

“Why don’t I go in with you? If they get angry, I can explain what happened to them.” Dean offers, causing the Young Emily to hesitate, slowly swallowing before she nods.

“Okay, you don’t seem like a bad man, so you can help.” She grabs his finger to one tiny hand, pulling him along as she reaches to open the door. Suddenly adult Emily is walking up beside them, but the young Emily doesn’t seem to notice. She pauses at the door, causing Dean to look at her, and she swallows thickly, reaching for his hand.

“I remember this day...” She murmurs softly, her grip tightens for a moment, before vanishing as she just walks through the heavy wood door- the memory continues, like it had been on pause the entire time, with Young Emily leading Dean inside to the living room. Dean recoils in horror at the blood stained walls and floor, two figures laying one over the other, on the counter, dead eyes staring at empty spaces, and mouths frozen open in horror. Young Emily screams as Adult Emily is sitting on the blood splattered floor, weeping with her arms covered in blood as Young Emily fades. “It’s all my fault... I killed them.” She sobs as Dean crosses over to her, kneeling beside her to take her hands from her face, hands cuffing her wrists.

“This is a dream, Em. A nightmare.” Dean says soothingly. “This isn’t your fault, because you didn’t kill them.”

“You don’t understand,” She shakes her head, staring up at the people on the counter. “they’re my parents. They didn’t even notice the murderer walking through the front door. I-If I had been back earlier-”

“You would have died too. He likely was a robber, and made a mistake.” Dean promises, tears falling down her cheeks as Dean lifts her head by the chin. “You couldn’t have done anything.” She draws a sharp breath, looking around in confusion.

“D-Dean?” She asks, voice weak and scared at the background fades, changing. Dean pulls her into his arms, holding her close.

“It’s alright.” He says.

“Dean, what’s going on? What happened to the party?” She asks, causing Dean to growl softly in his chest.

“You got glamoured by an Incubus. You’re trapped in a nightmare dream realm.” Dean explains. “It makes you relive some of your worst memories until you die, or the incubus takes you.” He explains.

“A-Am I doomed? Why are you here?” I ask, causing him to sigh.

“The only ways to save you involve killing the Incubus, but we had to hurt you in order to do it, or get you to fight the glamour on your own.” He explains, causing her to frown, tightening her hold on his shirt. “We’ll have to face your nightmares together, and beat them.”

“My m-memories.” She swallows, shaking in his arms at the idea.

“Yes.” He answers softly, petting her hair, providing comfort as he can. “But, I’m here to help you. Nothing can hurt you, and I’m here to prove that.”

“D-Dean, I’m not sure I can do this.” She explains sadly. “My life hasn’t exactly been joyful. I-I’m not exactly the cleanest person.”

“I don’t care, sweetheart. You know I’ve got no reason to judge.” He answers, causing her to sniffle, looking up at him with tearful eyes. “Hey,” He caresses her cheek, trailing a soft thumb across her skin, wiping the tears away. “Emily, you know I’m not going to judge you. You know Sammy and I aren’t the cleanest people too, and we’re not going to cast you away. Ever.” He says, his voice rather dedicated as Emily sniffles, nodding with a sad, broken, smile.

“Alright.” She murmurs, the background changes once more, a park materializing around them as Emily looks around, face going pale as her eyes land on a group of boys all clustered in a circle. Dean and Emily walk over as the memory starts to play.

“Admit it! You killed your parents!” A boy, about 15, yells in a younger Emily’s face, she’s about 15 herself, she’s pale faced, with dark eyes, and all black clothes. “What’d you do? Drink their blood?” The kid, “Asshole” Dean decides to name him, shouts.

“I didn’t do anything to them!” Teen Emily yells, the boys around them snicker.

“You did. You killed them, and you liked it!” Asshole taunts, causing both Emilys to clench their fists. “Because you’re crazy! A kook! Insane!”

“I am not!” Teen Emily shouts, causing Dean to growl as Asshole continues.

“You are! You’re a wannabe vampire, crazy-ass crybaby.” Asshole shouts as the boy continues to shout. “And worse yet? You probably fuck any guy who asks.” With a growl, Teen Emily throws a punch, knocking Asshole clear on his ass, the guys all scrabble to grab Teen Emily as Asshole stands, she screams as they drag her to the lake, and Asshole shoves her head into the water, causing Dean to growl as Emily beside she chokes, water starts coming up out of her throat, dirty and dark, with mud.

“Hey hey hey,” Dean grabs her shoulders, looking her in eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotion to be looking back at him. “it’s not real, this isn’t happening to you right now. Breath! Imagine it away!” He coaxes, brushing his fingers through her hair, and she takes a deep breath as he instructs, no water comes up, and as the two of them look back at the memories, Teen Emily is alone, straddling Asshole with her hands around his neck, squeezing tight.

“S-Stop!” Emily shouts from beside Dean, fear in her eyes. “S-Stop it! You’ll kill him! Stop it! She screams, Dean swallows as tears bud in her eyes, before she takes a deep breath. “STOP IT!!!!” She screams in a shrill voice, the Teen Emily jumps, hands falling from his neck as her head snaps up, before she looks at the unconscious teen before her on the ground, before she shakily backs up, dashing away.

“Did you kill him?” Dean asks as the scenery fades away, looking at Emily, who rubs her arms, looking at the ground.

“I might as well have. I cut off the oxygen to his brain, by the time I was pulled off, the damage...” She looks ashamed, Dean doesn’t say anything this time, just reaching out to hold her hand. “I can feel it. This is the last one before the nightmare.” She warns.

“I’ll be here.” Dean promises as the scenery around them changes into an apartment, and Dean can feel Emily stiffen beside him, his hand is practically being crushed in her’s as a figure comes flying into the coffee-table, the vase gets knocked off behind it. “What the fuck?” Dean asks as an older, but still younger, Emily slowly stands from the coffee-table, wiping blood from her nose as a man charges at her, backhanding her to the floor, kicking her repeatedly. The Emily beside Dean is frozen, completely locked up, with wide eyes, as the man, two times her size, kicks her repeatedly, shouting insults and threats, while Dean feels the urge to kill this bastard. “Emily?” He turns to look at her, blocking the view from her eyes. “Sweetheart?” No response, the horror in her eyes is magnified even as the memory pauses. “Hey, I need you to come out of there.” He says, glancing back to see her memory-self is curled in a ball, trying to protect herself, before he looks back at his Emily. He pulls her close, causing her to flinch, before clinging to his shirt. “I can’t get us out of this, you need to let it go. Don’t forgive if you don’t want to, but you have to forget it.” He says softly, eyeing the memory as it replays, each punch, hit, or kick has her flinching, Dean’s comforting hold on her turns a bit painful as he grits his teeth. Weapon. He remembers what Cas said about weapons, and a gun materializes in his hand, before he hands it to her. “You don’t have to forget, sweetheart. You can shoot him. It’s not real, but it might help.” He promises, causing her to look at him with wide eyes, before she shakes her head.

“N-No, I-I don’t want to.” She stammers softly, and he smiles.

“It’s your choice.” He says in support, but all he wants to do is shoot the guy himself, empty a thousand clips into him. She swallows thickly, before the memory pauses, and she grips the gun tight. Another glance at the man, she throws the gun at him instead, hits his head and bounces off, the frozen memory doesn’t react, but the scene dematerializes. “What was that?” Dean asks carefully, but Emily just shakes her head, unable to answer. “Okay,” He grabs her hand, tight, looping their fingers together. “ready?” She swallows thickly, nodding as a small room with dripping black walls materializes around them, it’s different though. Dean’s still there, but suddenly Emily looks around, fear wide in her eyes.

“D-Dean? Where’d you go? Dean!” She shouts, turning in circles, he tries to reach for her, but his hand passes through her, and he realizes that he’s starting to wake up. “Dean, where are you? You said you’d be here!” She screams, suddenly the walls start to move in on her, leaving him to stare helplessly as she screams, hands coming over her head in fists as she drops to the floor, the dripping black walls closing in ever-so-slowly.

“Emily!” He shouts, causing her head to snap up, eyes wide. “Fight. Like. Hell.” He orders as her eyes land on him, and she nods shakily as he wakes up.

Everything is blurry, fog clouds his mind as he slowly sits up, Sam holding him by the elbow and shoulder to help. He shakes his head violently, looking back at the bed, where Emily is still. Nothing looks like it’s changed, nothing except she’s paler, and it’s light out. “What time is it?” Dean moans as he looks at Sam.

“I think the more accurate question would be, what day is it?” Sam answers, causing Dean to blink tiredly up at his brother. “Dean, you’ve been asleep for a week.” He says, causing Dean’s brows to furrow, before he shakes his head.

“No, no- it can’t have been a week, it only felt like a few hours.” Dean answers, causing Sam to frown.

“No, Dean, it’s been a week. Castiel had even tried to revive you two a few times, but nothing worked. You were trapped for a week, inside Emily’s mind.” Sam explains, causing Dean to look at the young woman, feeling the pain and anger at the mess that was her life, and feeling a connection of a deeper level with her now. “What happened in there?” Sam’s inquiry has Dean shaking his head once more, frowning as he looks up at his baby brother.

“I cant tell you.” He answers honestly. “It’s not my story to tell.” The two boys exchange looks, Sam’s has a hint of betrayal and awe under it, but Dean’s is full of sorrow and understanding. Before they can say anything else, their is a sharp gasp of breath from behind Dean, causing them both to look up as Emily sits straight up in bed, heaving for air. “Thank God!” Dean exclaims, grabbing the redhead’s wrist, and pulling her into his arms, his head burying in the crook of her neck, and he deeply inhales the sweet scent of Emily’s perfume.

“How long have I been asleep?” She asks softly.

“A week, sweetheart. A week.” He answers as Sam discreetly leaves, allowing the two a few minutes alone. Taking out his phone once he’s outside, he shoots out two messages, one to Castiel to explain they’re awake, and one to a mystery number, simple saying that the plan is working. He pockets his phone as he walks away, a smirk on his face.

#dean winchester x reader #reverse french mistake #supernatural miniseries #supernatural #ssfg writes

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years

Text

Portuguese red candle tradition

alright here it is, fizz’s Christmas present this is based on the hallmark movie “the most wonderful time of the year” which is on YouTube and you should all watch it.

______ ship: ralbert genre: idiots warnings: fake trees and mild scream sesh words: 2077 woooweee editing: nope scope rope ______

Albert Dasilva did not like dogs. Ever since his uncle’s dog had tried to bite off his thumb in the third grade he’d been deathly afraid of them. And yet, here he was, running a dog walking business.

But what he hated even more were cats.

They were just inexplicably evil. How was it that virtually every human being on the planet went all uwu whenever they saw a cat? Albert just didn't trust them. They were definitely in charge of the illuminati. Actually, Albert had made a video on that very topic on his youtube channel last year that had over 1.4 million views. It was his biggest accomplishment to date.

But we’re getting off topic here. What’s really important is that Albert hates cats.

So how was it that he found himself walking three of them?

Yes, you read that right. Walking not one, not two, but three whole cats. Through his dog walking business, which annoyed him to no end because it was clearly a dog walking business, not a cat walking business and plus there was the question of who the hell would pay someone to walk their cats? And it was also blizzarding. But he was a broke 24 year old living out of his van and cash was cash so he put himself through the torture of walking three yowling cats.

Finally, 2 whole hours later - which was an hour longer than it took to walk dogs, curse these stupid cats - he was trudging up to the fancy suburban upper middle class house to deposit the ferocious beasts and then go freeze in his van.

The door opened, revealing the semi attractive cat owner himself - he would have been actually attractive had it not been for the fact that he not only owned three cats but also paid Albert to walk them. Oh, he had a name. It was something strange. Tack? Ruce? No. Oh yes, Race.

“My furry babies!” Race squealed as bend down to embrace his cats. Rather anticlimactically, two of them ran right past Race into the house. The third tripped climbing through the front door, giving Race just enough time to scoop him up and pet him. Sorta like Cruella Da Ville. Exept with a cat.

“Thanks for walking them,” Race said, smiling as he shifted the cat to hand Al an envelope with his pay in it.

“Yeah you're welcome,” Al said, accepting the envelope.

“You got someplace warm to stay?” Race asked somewhat awkwardly.

Albert gestured to his van that was parked at the end of the driveway. “You’re looking at it.”

Race’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his cat. “You live out of a van?”

Albert rolled his eyes, all but ready to throw a fat, wet snowball into Mr. McPrissy’s face. “I do. It’s easier than a house cause I just kinda come and go as I please.”

“You- you what?” Race stuttered. “I can’t believe in a car you're gonna freeze to death. And then whos gonna walk my cats! No one else is dumb enough to do such a job.”

Albert had had just about enough of this asshole and his dumb cats. “Listen. Not all of us are satisfied by being business executives-”

“Nurses.”

“-okay? I’ve been traveling around the country in that van since the night of my high school graduation doing weird things and meeting all sorts of cool people - except you, you're an asshole - and I’ve spent much colder winters than this in Minnesota in that van. I think I’ll be okay.” And with that he began to stomp down the snowy steps back to his van.

“Why don't you stay here tonight?”

Albert froze in his place and turned dramatically to look over his shoulder. “What?”

“I said, why don't you stay here tonight?” Race repeated. His arms were crossed and the wind was blowing his blonde locks into this hard set blue eyes. He definitely looked pretty, er, meant business.

Still, Albert retaliated. What an idiot.

“Did you not hear me? Winters in Minnesota.”

“I heard you,” Race said firmly. “And I’m not asking you to move in with me. Just spend the night someplace warm. I don't want you to get hypothermia, I can tell you from personal experience that it’s not fun.”

Albert sighed. He really wanted to say no, he really did. He didn't want to be anywhere near that weirdo or his cats anytime soon. But the prospect of an actual bed and a warm house was too inviting. Begrudgingly, he trudged back up the steps, uttering a small “thank you” before stepping inside.

And almost throwing up at the accursed sight before him.

“You have a fake silver christmas tree?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Race said, pulling the door shut behind him.

“No?” Albert stared at his new host in disbelief. “People actually buy real trees. With needles. And sap. You’re not doing Christmas right.”

“How dare you mosey into my house and tell me I’m not doing Christmas right.” Race scoffed, crossing his arms. One of his cats mewed menacingly behind him. Truly it was nice touch.

“Well you’re not!” Albert exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Look if I’m going to stay here, you’re going to have a real tree.”

Race looked skeptical.

Albert rolled his eyes, mimicking Race’s annoyed stance. “Think of it as a Christmas present. It is just a few days away.”

Race sighed loudly, looking up at the ceiling. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Despite himself, Albert smiled.

“And where might I get a ‘real Christmas tree,’ O Great And Powerful Christmas Tree Lord?”

“At a tree lot,” Albert said. “D u h.”

“Well I’m not exactly an official Christmas tree connoisseur,” Race said, reaching for his coat. “I assume we’re going now?”

“Of course. I refuse to spend one more minute in this house with that - that thing.” Albert said playfully.

“Oh shut up it’s not that bad. My grandmother used to have a pink one,” Race said, grabbing his keys.

Albert shuddered. “Good thing I won’t be meeting her.”

“She’s dead.”

Albert flung open the front door dramatically. “Even better.”

Race groaned loudly as he pulled the door shut and locked it, causing the giant wreath on the front door to fall to the ground with a small oof.

“Race,” Albert said disappointedly, “the wreath is too big.”

“No,” Race countered, picking it up, “the hook is too small.”

“So he a bigger hook.”

“I don’t have one.”

“So buy a smaller wreath.”

“I like this one.”

“You are so difficult I wish I had just slept in my car!”

“Yeah well you’re not exactly pleasant either, coming in here telling me that I’m doing Christmas ‘wrong’!”

“Who buys a fake silver tree?!”

“I do!!”

“It's not even green!”

“So?”

“So-it’s,” Albert began, but stopped suddenly. There was something about the determination set on Race’s face that made him want to kiss the shit out of him.

Albert you son of a bitch. You could have gotten the hots for anyone and you choose the guy who has three cats and a silver Christmas tree?

“Excuse me, Race, sorry to interrupt.”

Albert pulled himself out of his romantic exploits that may or may not have involved him and Race making out under the fake silver tree to see that another man had joined them on the porch, seemingly out of thin air.

“Hi Romeo,” Race said tightly.

“I just happened to notice that you haven’t put up your Christmas lights yet, and you know we’re goin for the whole street this year. Nothing fancy just white lights - only white.” He gave Race a pointed stare. “You don’t wanna be-”

“-the only dark house on Christmas Eve,” Race finished exasperatedly. “I know.”

“So you’ll get on it?” Romeo asked, seemingly oblivious to Race’s disinterest.

“Yes I’ll get on it, now if you’ll excuse me I really have to go run some errands.”

This time, Romeo seemed to get the hint and he scurried off back to his house next door - ah so he was a neighbor, that made more sense.

Albert turned to Race. “Change of plans,” he announced. “You’re getting the tree by yourself.”

Race eyed him skeptically. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to put up your lights. That neighbor sounded pissed.”

Race rolled his eyes. “You’re a dog walker, you’re hardly qualified.”

“And you’re a business executive.”

“Nurse!!”

“Same difference!” Albert groaned. “And besides, I’ve done all sorts of odd jobs, I was a handyman a few years back in Colorado. I know my way around a ladder.”

“Well,” Race saw that there was no way of getting out of this argument, “if you insist.”

“Oh I do insist. And I got a little something special to keep your neighbor away,” Albert winked mischievously.

“Alright, whatever,” Race waved him off. “Just don’t get me sued. And what kind of tree do I buy?”

“A big one, we need a thick stick!” Albert called over his shoulder as he headed over to the garage. With any bit of luck, this plan should work.

•••

By the time Race got back with the tree, Albert had just finished stringing up the lights so he decided to flex on his host - literally and figuratively - by bringing the tree inside and setting it up. The three cats - whom he had learned were named Steve, Peter, and Tony after Race’s favorite Marvel characters -mewed at it suspiciously before going to do their cat related activities, like take over the world.

They had just began to put the ornaments on, laughing and having a grand time singing along to crappy pop Christmas songs, when the doorbell rang.

Race set down the glass ball he was holding and went to answer the door. “I’ll be right back, do not munch that.”

Albert looked at him quizzically.

“I don’t know man, you just seem like the kind of person who would.” Then he left, leaving Albert to question his mental well-being.

However, all of that was abandoned when he heard the shrill voice of Race’s neighbor and he ran to the door to watch his plan unfold.

“Race,” Romeo was saying, “come here I need to show you something.”

Albert watched from the door as Romeo pulled Race out into the lawn and pointed up at the one red bulb he had put in the strand of white lights and couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s red.” Romeo said, holding out his palm. “I brought you a white one, if you want it.”

“No actually,” Albert said, stepping out of the house. “We did that on purpose. See there’s this thing where I come from called the Portuguese Red Candle Tradition - very old and sacred tradition - where you put out one red candle, or light, to keep away the dark spirits. It’s said to bring good luck.”

Romeo stood open mouthed.

“I have one inside if you want it.”

Romeo shook his head.

“Great, well then if you don’t mind Race and I have a tree to finish decorating. Ta ta,” he said, pulling Race inside and shutting the door, hearing the oof of the wreath falling off the door once again.

Race stood with his arms crossed. “There’s no such thing as the Portuguese Red Candle Tradition, is there?”

Albert fidgeted. “No.”

“And you know by putting that one red bulb there you’re going to drive him absolutely nuts right?”

“I had the general idea, yes.”

“And you know that he’s gonna drive me insane about fixing it right?”

“Well-”

“Is that why you do you just waltz into peoples houses and make their lives more difficult?”

“I didn’t do anything I was trying to help!”

“Oh like you were with the tree?”

“Hey, everyone deserves to have a good tree!”

“My tree was perfectly fine!”

“It was made of plastic!”

“Perfectly nice plastic!”

“Yeah well your tree can go to hell!”

“You know who else can go to hell?”

“Lemme guess, me?!”

“Exactly!!”

And then Race’s lips were pressed into his.

Albert had to admit, it wasn’t the most romantic kiss ever, what with the satanic cats mewing in the background and the ugly silver tree in pieces on the floor, but maybe, just maybe, it was a good idea that he didn’t freeze to death in his van that night.

______

we Stan a pair of idiots, happy Christmas fizzy babe I hope I did you a solid

tag list tomorrow

#saphie scribbles #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #hope you like fizz #i worked hard #eeeeee

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fandomoniumflurry · 6 years

Text

Keep Calm and Carry On Part 6

Chestervelle

@lukecastellamz @elsatxx @becs-bunker

2.8k Swearing and arguing

This is not the end though! There is still more to come!!

“I didn’t ask you to come!” She yelled, her blonde hair brushing across her face as she whipped around to face him.

He looked down at her with wrinkled brow with a grimace of his own. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes would have been cute if his gaze wasn’t heated and his jaw firmly set. Her defiance was pushing his buttons and bringing out what she had earlier called ‘Daddy Winchester’ mode. “You. You drove off and left me and your motel without even telling me!”

“Because I don’t need you to take care of me!” This yelling match had been going on for a while now. After interrupting too many times, Jo’s hunter friend, Pierce, gave up trying to get between them.

“How do you even know that guy?” A hand gestured back toward the other room where Pierce sat. Dean was sure that the dark headed man could hear him as he spoke. “You should know that not all hunters can be trusted.” Great offense took over Jo’s face. “That’s my friend, you asshole! I’ve worked more cases with him than I ever have with you.” She took a bold step forward and poked a finger into his chest. “He’s a damn good hunter and he’s saved my life a couple times. So you watch how you talk about him.”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly as he scanned her orbs for a moment. A realization struck him, leaving him reeling for a second. Taking a step back from her, he seem flabbergasted. “You’ve slept with him!” The laugh that passed his lips was ill humored and a hand washed down his face. Her features went cold, her body going rigid as her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t have to say anything for that was all the answer he needed. When a tight pained smile pulled at his lips, she almost felt guilty. “You seriously fucked him?”

“And what does it matter to you who I fuck? I was on my own for months, I’m allowed to let loose from time to time!” Her arms stretched out on either side of her as she practically screamed. The fact that he had the nerve to bitch about her when he got tail whenever he wanted got on her last nerve. Her face was contorted in anger as she carried on even when Dean wanted to say something else. “Pierce is a good guy, a good friend, Dean. He was around when I needed someone. He took me in and took care of me for a while.” “You had me!” Dean suddenly retorted before she could continue. “You had Sam. Hell, you even had Cas. You have a family that wanted to be there for you. You’re the one that ran away!”

“I didn’t run away! Things were different.” Her breath came in pants now, this argument and the emotions it brought up were exhausting. “You were different. Too much changed. We’re not those two crazy kids we used to be before the apocalypse.” There was a heavy weight in Jo’s eyes as she took herself back a step, more distance between them. “I looked into your eyes that first day and I saw someone I didn’t recognize. You’ve been through a lot, Dean, I get it. But the way you looked. There was a darkness in you that scared me. Then when you guys told me the whole story, it made me wonder what i was getting myself into.

She could see that her words cut deep as Dean’s body seemed to be frozen like ice against the floor. A sadness was heavy in his eyes and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. There was a thin layer of glistening moisture in his emerald orbs and Jo took in a sharp breath. “So you left. Because I changed.” The smile at the corner of his mouth was more of a snarl. “That’s what happens, Jo! Time passes. We grow the fuck up!”

“I didn’t get to grow u!” She finally exclaimed with her loudest voice. Dean jolted at the sound and his whole demeanor changed. “I was dead, Dean. For years! I didn’t get to…” Her head hung as the sentence drifted off. She struggled to rain in her emotions before she continued. “I didn’t get to carry on. To be by your side, to watch you, be there for you. I didn’t grow up. I didn’t grow with you.”

A sharp pang of guilt caused a tremor down Dean’s spine. His slack jaw nearly hit the floor at her admission and he had no words. A part of him wanted to run to her, hold her but she wasn’t finished and he was sure at the moment he was the last thing she wanted.

“I don’t blame you. I really don’t. But my time in--” Her eyes lifted in a panic, stopping her sentence, already realizing she had said too much.

Dean’s heart instantly stopped, his eyes locking with hers. She begged frantically with her eyes alone for him to drop it. Tears nearly leaked from her chocolate hues as her hands lifted toward him. “You were in heaven...weren’t you?” The ache in Dean’s chest was nearly crippling, his lungs refusing to take in air.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Dean, I’m ok with it. I just need adjust, just need--”

His eyes were fierce but pained as he cut her off. “What was it like?” His jaw clenched with his fear of her answer.

She was reluctant to respond, her eyes averting as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. He took a step forward and rested a hand over one of hers catching her eye. When she lifted her gaze, she was shocked at how he had gotten so close so quickly. She swallowed thickly before dropping her eyes to their hands. “As you know, you relive life’s greatest hits. But not just that…” She barely glanced up at him through her lashes, almost ashamed she was about to share this information. “You get to live out your fantasies as well.” Dean held his breath with anxiety as she continued after a defeated sigh. “You were my heaven, Dean.”

At that moment, the hunter’s heart plummeted. He never would have imagined. Her paradise was with him. Her memories were of the times she had with the younger version of him. She got to live out the happy perfect life with someone Dean didn’t even know anymore. He could only imagine how she had pictured him, what he was like in her after death dreams. But he knew he wasn’t like that. She remembered him in better days. The dark broken man he was now was a stranger to her. No wonder she left. He could never live up to that.

“I have to go.” His eyes were distant as he retracted his hand as if her touched burned. Her tiny digits chased him as he stepped away and she was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the ringing in his ears. He could feel her clinging to his arm, trying to pull him back to her but she was a blur. He needed to get out of her. He ripped himself from her hold and quickly stomped out the door.

Once out in the fresh air, he could finally breathe again. His hands combed through his hair and his fingers clung to the short strands as his eyes closed. His steps had stopped halfway down the drive and he hung his head back to take a few deep breaths. For a moment, he let calm take him over. But it didn’t last long before he heard the door swing open behind him. An exasperated sigh passed his lips as he dropped his hands to his sides. Emerald orbs opened to gaze at the stars above before his head fell again to turn himself to the person stomping toward him. She was moving at a fast pace, moving with purpose through the gravel. It was almost terrifying.

What he hadn’t expected when she got to him was her grabbing him by the collar and jerking him down to her level. “Now you listen here, Dean Winchester. You don’t get to run away from this.” He conceded with a nod and wide eyes before his hands lifted to wrap around her tiny wrists.

When he had Sam track her phone, he had expected a motel or some dive bar, not an actual house in the suburbs. When she had said a hunter friend, he didn’t expect the tall attractive man that opened the front door. He was nice enough, greeting him with a smile and gladly getting Jo for him. Jo wasn’t as glad to accept his visit.

The arguing started almost immediately and it didn’t take long for them to get into an all out yelling match. Poor Pierce was beyond uncomfortable, excusing himself to the other room after getting yelled at himself a few times. He figured it was best to let them hash it out on their own. He wasn’t a fan of being a topic of discussion, but he didn’t move, just turned the television up more. He just rose to his feet when Dean stormed out and Jo was right behind him. He blinked a few times and made move to follow but Jo quickly shot that idea down. So with a sigh, he gave up and headed upstairs.

Now that Jo had Dean’s undivided attention, she found that instead of having some mind blowing speech rollin goff her tongue, she was breathless having his face so close to hers. The racing of her heart had to have been audible to the whole neighborhood. The pressure of his fingers around her wrists was doing very little to ground her either. He watched her patiently, searching her brown hues for the words she couldn’t say. Which didn’t help her clear her mind at all. She could get lost in those emerald pools, drown in them before she could even put up a fight.

Her eyes closed briefly to allow her to take a deep breath before she finally attempted to speak. There was a stronger resolve in her gaze when she opened her eyes to look at him once again. “You can understand now why I reacted the way I did when I came back. I was ripped out of my heaven and thrown back into this...hell. Without warning. When everything was so different. You were different. It was all just scary and overwhelming. I couldn’t look at you without an ache in my heart. I heard your voice and it felt like a knife in my chest. So I left, yes. But I couldn’t go far from you.”

Her hands moved to cup his face as her features softened. “Then you showed up at the motel. Totally unexpected. At first, it still hurt to be around you but then you let your walls down and I got to see the Dean I used to know. Today was the best day I’ve ever had because you were so happy, so light and I thought maybe…” She wasn’t sure how to continue her thought so she let it drift off.

After a pause, she started again. “But you let me go. No argument. Just told me to take care and drive away. And I was hurt, once again losing that feeling of heaven.” A sweet smile spread after that. “Then you showed up here. In all your angry macho glory, chest all puffed out and everything. And you were all jealous of Pierce.” She chuckled and his lips parted to speak. She silenced him with a finger against his full lips with a grin. She simply shook her head because she knew he had no argument. “I never slept with him.”

Dean’s brows wrinkled in confusion. “But you said--”

“His wife, Diana is a bartender at the saloon around here. She was the one that took me in. She and Pierce have been good to me.” A frown curled her lips now. “She’s sick and so Pierce has been home alone while she’s in the hospital. He’s been going back and forth and he’s wearing himself thing. So he just needed someone to help out. Since I was close, I had to come.” Her thumb rubbed gently against his stubble. “I was going to ask you to come with me. If it makes you feel any better.”

“Now I feel like an idiot.” His words made her laugh, a sound that brought his smile back. He couldn’t maintain the smile for long though once his thoughts took over again. His face turned down into a troubled frown.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. Trust me, I’ve been there.” Jo commented as her thumbs still moved soothingly over his jaw. “Just don’t pass out on me. I can’t catch you like you could me.” They both laughed softly and Dean noticed his arms had slid around her waist. He wasn’t sure when that had happened but it just felt natural.

“Why did you tell me you slept with him?” Dean finally asked, her hands moving from his face to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I didn’t tell you anything. You assumed. I just didn’t set you straight.” She gave him a crooked grin before Dean rolled his eyes, a smirk of his own growing at the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t been with anyone since I got back.” Her admission was quiet and timid, her eyes watching as her fingers played with his collar.

The smug grin growing on Dean’s face couldn’t be helped and Jo noticed it right away. Her eyes rolled as a smile came across her face, slapping him lightly against the back of the head. He softened then, a hand lifting to run through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “Neither have I.” This shocked the blonde and Dean laughed at her stunned expression. “Is that so hard to believe?” His smile dropped for a second. “Don’t answer that.” Causing her to giggle again.

“I should probably get back inside.” Her voice was a breathy whisper against his lips. When he had drawn his face so close, she couldn’t tell but she felt him suck the air from her lungs. His arms had tightened around her and brought her impossibly tight against him, her body molding perfectly against his as if they were made for each other. Though her words said she should walk away, her lips had other ideas. Her face leaned in slowly as she still tried to fight against his magnetic pull. His smug grin hadn’t left and she could feel it the moment he closed the gap and slanted his lips against hers.

They had shared a couple kisses in their lifetime but nothing could compare to this one. It washed away fears and doubts, it expressed everything they couldn’t put into words. It healed wounds and soothed aches. It was overwhelming and intense and yet calming and passionate. It wasn’t rushed or hard, just two mouths learning each other, moving in sync. Hums and moans vibrated against their mouths and Jo’s arms tightened around his neck when he felt her lifting her feet from the ground. She giggled against his lips as she kicked her legs backwards as he leaned back a bit. The kiss broke when they were both breathless and laughing.

Feet finally back on the ground, she ran her fingers through his hair and smiled lovingly up at him. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll be back in a couple days.” Her hands slid down his face and she gave him a quick peck on the lips to silence his disputes. “I’ll apologize to Pierce for ya.” She backed away, his hands holding hers as she moved toward the house. “Don’t give me that look. Go before I get my shotgun.”

He laughed with a shake of his head but as much as he didn’t want to go, he knew she needed time with her friends. At least she was coming home. With a quick jerk, he pulled her back against him to plant a deep kiss against her mouth which she immediately melted into with a content hum. “What is that flavor by the way?” He asked when he pulled away again, licking his lips.

The smug grin had transferred to her face as she let go of him and turned around. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she winked. “It’s cherry pie lip balm.” The hunter practically swooned and she giggled at his dramatic gesture. “Bye, Princess. I’ll call you later, ok?” She made a show of walking away, putting some extra pep in her step and sway in her hips.

He watched with a face splitting smile until she waved and disappeared back into the house. Letting out a pleasant sigh, he threw his keys up in the air, and then caught them as he turned toward the Impala. He had never been happier.

#shelly writes #keep calm and carry on #chestervelle #dean x jo #dean winchester #jo harvelle #supernatural #spn

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