#and they never Really wanted the other dead bc it was always some supernatural force outside of their control | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

Note

[The following ask is just an attempt on my, Winter's, part to exploit a quirk in tumblr's code that keeps formatting from copy/pasted items when answering an ask on desktop as opposed to making a text post.]

MC is a Phoenix and Child of a Famous Magic User

A slightly modified request fill for @guardianoftheunderworld090! This ended up getting away from me a bit, and by a bit I mean a lot so uhhh Oops! Because of that, I didn’t end up doing the dateables+Luke, so apologies! But this is already probably wayyyyy off from the original request anyway.

Again, oopsie :3

Content Warnings: Temporary character death, spoilers for Lesson 16+, brief implication of immolation (but not really bc, y’know, phoenix), mild-to-moderate blood and injuries/violence

As soon as they learned their name, everyone knew of MC. While not quite on Solomon or the great witch Maddi’s level, their parents had made quite the name for themselves in the magical community. Their pre-existing knowledge of magic and the supernatural was therefore completely expected.

Less so was what happened when they died.

Mammon had been cradling their body when it happened, still too stunned to react to his smug younger brother gloating about taking out such a fragile, weak creature. The entire House of Lamentation was in shock: MC, the human they had come to cherish, was bleeding out right in front of their eyes and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

The Avatar of Greed’s breath hitched as he felt their pulse fade, watched the rise and fall of their chest cease…

And then he screamed as MC’s body burst into flames. They were scorching hot, but left no marks on him nor the surrounding area. On instinct, Beelzebub darted forward to pull Mammon away from the inferno, his protests weakened by surprise and grief. Belphegor was knocked backwards off his feet by the force of the flames, and they all watched as the fire raged on, until it began to take on a recognizable shape.

Not of MC, but of a brightly coloured flaming bird.

The phoenix cocked its head to the side, as though assessing its surroundings, eyes passing over each of the frozen brothers before rounding on Belphegor. It shrieked, puffed up feathers interspersed with jets of flame, and charged the youngest with its sharp beak and talons bared.

And suddenly it was no longer a bird.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” MC yelled as they continued to slash at Belphie. A large pair of bright flaming wings arched behind their back, threatening to torch anything they touched. “I LITERALLY RISKED THE WRATH OF LUCIFER FOR WEEKS TO HELP YOUR SORRY ASS GET OUT OF THAT ATTIC AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! WITH MURDER?!”

Blood pooled in Belphie’s mouth from a particularly nasty slash across his lip. He spit to the side before replying, “In my defense, most people stay dead when you kill them!”

“THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO—”

“...MC?” Levi said, voice small. “I-Is that really you…?” His tail swished behind him anxiously.

MC turned their attention to the rest of the brothers (one set of talons still embedded in Belphie’s leg, in case he had thoughts of running).

Beel was stock still, eyes pointed ahead but staring at something beyond the room. Asmo was crying silently, though his expression was neutral and wide eyed. The gears in Satan’s head were visibly turning even as he shredded the sleeves of his shirt with his claws. Mammon was misty eyed, with such an open expression of love and want and hurt that it made them want to cry as well. And Lucifer… The Avatar of Pride’s usual mask of stony superiority had crumbled into something lost and broken.

They looked back to Belphegor, who clutched at his leg, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes. They slowly remove their talons from his leg and face the group, folding their wings inward until they regain their humanoid form.

“I guess I have a bit of explaining to do, huh.”

Lucifer

Too many things have happened so fast, he doesn’t even know how to respond.

Not only has MC apparently been having secret meetings with Belphegor, not only are the pacts they’ve made with his brothers just tools to free him, not only did Belphegor then betray them and attempt to kill them, but they’re also… A phoenix?!

Distantly, hysterically, he thinks, how in the three realms is that not on their file?

“Oh, I’m also not technically from this timel-”

Lucifer shushes them. He can’t deal with any other reveals right now.

Once… everything is dealt with, he allows himself to be curious about MC’s origins.

Have they always been this way? Were they adopted by their parents, a familiar given human form, or had something gone wrong one day with a spell?

He’ll never ask them though. He knows origins can be touchy subjects.

He grounds himself in the practical. Does MC know how to control their abilities? Are their needs being met? Are there any additional accommodations they require?

Sometimes, when their wings are out, he can’t help but be reminded of the similarly fiery wings of the seraphim from home the Celestial Realm and feel nostalgic.

His more possessive side also relishes the fact that they share a connection through association with birds, especially considering how some varieties of phoenixes tend to resemble peacocks.

It must be difficult for them to preen those large wings, do they need any help? No, it’s not that he wants to, don’t be ridiculous. But if they ever want his help...

Mammon

Once the initial shock of “holy shit the love of my life just BURST INTO FLAMES IN MY ARMS” fades, he’s just happy MC’s alive and well.

But he does put on a front of being upset that they never told him about their nature.

“Stupid hu— uhhh, phoenix, I worried for nothin’! Wait, no, I wasn’t worried at all—”

“Sure you weren’t,” MC retorts with a smile.

Seriously though, why didn’t they tell him? He’s their guardian, their First, he should know these things!

Do they think he’ll… try and take advantage of them because of their powers? He’d never!

Okay, maybe when they first met he might have considered it, but not now! Not now that he…

One night, Mammon and MC are up late watching some terrible Devildom romcom. MC has long since fallen asleep, and one of their enormous wings is draped over Mammon, pinning him in place.

The flames interspersed amongst their feathers are short and glow only dimly, like dying embers. Occasionally, a few will flare slightly or twitch as though a breeze has blown by.

“...I was really scared, you know,” he murmurs to their sleeping form. “I really thought you were gone. And I realized at that moment that I… I can’t lose you. I love you so much MC. You’re worth more to me than anything else in the Devildom, than anything in all the three realms. Please don’t scare me like that ever again…”

MC doesn’t stir, but the flames on their wing follow Mammon’s hand as he pets the warm feathers. They’re only pleasantly warm, with a smooth, silky texture to them.

He snuggles closer to them and drifts off himself, comforted by the heat of their body, human and avian anatomy alike.

Leviathan

Levi cannot believe his luck. He finally gets himself a friend he can really trust, and then his younger brother (who was trapped in an attic by the way, NOT in the human world like Lucifer said, because oh yeah, also Lucifer’s a liar) kills them, and now they’re—

It’s too much to process at once. All he can latch onto is that’s them, right? That’s really his MC, his Henry, the one person outside of his family who doesn’t dismiss him as some gross shut-in?

Once he’s assured himself that they’re safe, he’s immediately hit with the rest of the surprises to process. He hugs MC tightly against himself, whether to protect them from Belphegor or himself from… everything, is anyone’s guess.

It takes a long time for Levi’s newfound clinginess to dissipate. He refuses to let MC be alone around Belphegor under any circumstances, even if it means leaving his room more than he’s comfortable with.

In this time, he learns a lot about MC.

He learns that they seek to cool off the same way he seeks out warmth, and that this makes them excellent cuddling partners. He learns that they let out very adorable chirps of squawks when caught off guard.

He learns the hard way that a phoenix in love is a fire hazard.

But he also learns that he’d risk every item in his collection to see MC’s radiant smile.

Satan

Set the phoenix thing aside, Satan thinks to himself as he rushes over to inspect MC for injuries. Set it aside.

Once he’s sure they are unharmed, he turns his attention to Belphegor.

The Avatar of Sloth is lucky MC got to him first. Satan wouldn’t have stopped at a warning strike. Belphie knows from the murderous glare shot his way that it is only the presence of the others that’s stopping Satan from taking his revenge.

His fingers linger in their wings. MC’s feathers are all out of sorts, but there are no bald patches indicating any serious burns or other wounds. Still, Satan cards through them carefully, checking and double checking for any signs of damage. MC fidgets under his attention.

“Uh, Satan?” They’re blushing. “That kinda tickles.”

“Oh! Oh, um, sorry, I was just— you’re okay, right?”

They let out a small laugh and bop him gently with a wing. “Everything’s in working order, don’t worry.”

“That’s— Good, that’s uh, that’s great.”

“...Go ahead, you dork,” MC prompts with a smile. He blinks at them owlishly. “Ask your questions!”

He does, over the course of the next couple of weeks, in between therapeutic pranks against a certain youngest brother.

Asmodeus

As MC is born again from flame, Asmo learns the true horror of love.

He had always been the one to invoke passion in others: to seduce loyal partners and drive others mad with desire, to twist their love into lust and unleash its destructive potential. Despite this, he never really understood the feeling himself, why something as ephemeral as a feeling could drive humans to such extremes.

But seeing MC wounded and bloody, watching the light in their eyes dim, the Avatar of Lust had felt the call of blood and rage and grief and love for the first time. And watching MC dust themself off as they explain their unique heritage, Asmo realizes that those feelings would have destroyed him. He would have done anything and everything to bring MC back to him, given up any part of himself just to see them one more time.

So forgive him, MC, if his movements ever slow to a stop while preening your wings. If he sometimes stares at you with awe, or holds you tight enough to bruise.

His heart has never been anyone’s but his before, and he is so very afraid of getting burned.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Oh this is Not bringing up good memories at all.

Something about seeing MC and Belphegor, bloody with the scent of fire and death in the air jumbles his senses and suddenly they’re not in the House of Lamentation but the battlefield and she’s been struck down, he was too slow, he chose his twin over his sister can he live with that? Can any of them? She’s falling she’s falling and he’s falling and they’re going to—

When he snaps back into awareness, Beel is restraining a hissing and spitting MC as they scratch and claw at him to get to Belphegor, the one wing Beel didn’t manage to pin down flapping about erratically.

Their movements only stop when they feel hot tears on their back. MC calms down and shifts more gently in Beelzebub’s grasp, turning to face him.

“Beel, it’s okay,” they say, cupping his face with a bloody, taloned hand. He smells the blood and lets out a sob.

Belphegor moves to comfort his twin, but MC’s wings snap open, shielding the pair in a ring of fire and feathers.

“I— I…” He can’t form the words. You died, my brother killed you, he’s here, you hurt him, why is he here, why did he hurt you, how did— “Please,” he says, finally.

MC frowns, hesitates. But slowly, they lower their wings and step aside, letting the twins reunite. As they embrace, Belphegor shoots them a look, but it’s not hateful. It’s not regretful or apologetic either, more of a profound confusion.

Despite demons’ regenerative abilities, Belphegor remains mostly bedridden for quite some time. It seems a phoenix’s wounds negate most healing factors, and the 5 pronged gash in his leg is particularly stubborn in its refusal to close. He jokes that the slow recovery must be because MC will never forgive him for what he’s done. Beel chastises him and says they’re more forgiving than he thinks.

Still, Belphie is surprised to see MC join Beel when he comes to change the youngest’s bandages. They hold out their hands, revealing 10 strange, press-on caps over their talons as they assure Belphie they won’t hurt him.

Where Beel is overly cautious and gentle, MC is practiced and efficient as they inspect, clean, and redress his wounds.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” Belphie can’t help but ask, earning him a stern glare from his twin.

“For attacking you after you killed me, not knowing it wouldn’t take? No,” they reply around a mouthful of medical tape. “It’s an excuse to talk.” They gesture for Beel to move his hand from the gauze pad so they can tape it down.

“You want to talk with your would-be murderer.” MC gathers up the garbage and old bandages to toss them in the trash.

“You’re not the first person to try, you know,” they remark as they dust off their hands.

“What?!” the twins shout in unison, Beel nearly dropping the scissors he was putting back into the first aid kit.

“I’ll tell you about it if you tell me why…” MC gestures broadly to Belphegor, “this all happened the way it did.”

This exchange of stories does not repair MC and Belphegor’s fraught relationship. That is not how wounds heal. But nevertheless, some weeks later, the House of Lamentation has a movie night. And sandwiched in the middle of the familial cuddle pile is MC, Beel, and Belphie, each tucked under one fiery wing.

#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #mine #my writing #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #as you can see this stylistically got very far away from me lmao #i'm not sure how i feel about it #eh #c'est la vie

138 notes · View notes

divine-bangtan · 3 years

Text

- mirror, mirror on the wall | ksj (m)

⤏ vampire!seokjin, pwp, medieval!au

⤏ word count: 6.5k

⤏ Being a vampire prince, Seokjin is used to feeling everyone’s eyes on him. In fact, he’s come to expect it from his subjects. So when you won’t look at him of course he’s not happy. After all, didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude not to stare at him?

a/n: listen,,,this is unedited and overdue bc I am trash. Also for someone who doesn’t like humiliation and degrading sex I sure had way too much fun writing this I have nothing 2 say for myself okay enjoy. Happy birthday Seokjin!

⤏ vampire prince!seokjin, human servant!reader, exhibitionism, degration, nipple play, fingering, slight anal play, squirting, biting, blood drinking, orgasm denial, spanking, candlewax play, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, seokjin is fucking hung and his precome is an aphrodisiac, bath sex, mirror sex, cockwarming, creampie, what even is aftercare lol.

One minute had already passed, your trembling hand still hovering in front of the door while you worked up the courage to knock. A single bead of sweat which had gathered at the nape of your neck dripped down your skin, and you swallowed hard in an attempt to quell your nerves. Your attempt at delaying this was inevitable, he was expecting you, had summoned you personally and he could likely tell how long you’d been standing there as well.

With that driving thought in mind, you chewed on your lower lip for another second and moved your hand to finally knock.

“You may enter,” came from within the room before your knuckles had even made contact with the wood. The deep voice was slightly muffled through the walls, but nonetheless it still made you shudder with its authority. Swallowing again, you leaned most of your weight on the solid wood to open the door. Something sinister hung in the air, and you stood rooted in the entrance of the prince’s private chambers, entire body thrumming with trepidation.

Glints of gold caught your gaze, coming from every corner of the space as the candles flickered and shadows seemed to grow and lurk where your stare didn’t quite reach. Everywhere your eyes landed screamed lavish riches. If it was not pure gold, the furniture was dripping in rich, red velvet. Curtains so thick they were easily able to block out the brightest sunlight cascaded down the walls, half concealing the intricate tapestries that adorned them. The entire space had a mysterious feel to it, with an underlying sense of danger that made your heart skip a beat.

The entrance room alone made your head spin, and an unknown force pulled you further into the labyrinth, your feet moved as if possessed, deeper and deeper into the lion’s den. A gust of wind made the curtains rustle, carrying whispers you couldn’t quite understand. You moved to look closer at the paintings on the wall on the other side of the hallway, to inspect the scenes of battle they seemed to depict. However, something stopped you dead in your tracks, a powerful presence behind you. It had you whirling around, staring through a lavish open doorway.

You gasped softly when you turned and your eyes landed on the bathtub in the centre of the room, so large it was almost taking up half the space. Wisps of steam floated from the surface of the water which gleamed iridescent in the candlelight, no doubt filled with expensive lotions and perfumes. What was more impressive, however, was the many flower petals which adorned the water.

Your eyes lifted to finally meet the eyes of your prince, Seokjin, who reclined against the edge of the tub with an air of relaxed ease. His arms stretched out either side of him, the slight bulge of muscle beneath his honeyed skin causing you to swallow extra hard. The position made his already broad shoulders look even larger, like they could block out the whole sky as he looked down at you. It suited him well. Regality, beauty, immortality. When he raised his dark eyes to pierce yours you felt as though you’d been lured right into the lion’s den, and he was about to devour you alive. A smirk tugged at his plush lips and his gaze burned a hole right through you, the carpet quickly became your solace.

“How may I serve you, your excellency?” You murmured, trying to keep your tone steady, yet you knew his supernatural senses would pick up the slightest tremble. There truly wasn’t anything you could hide from him.

A long silence came from his direction, filled only by the pounding of your heart. Warmth crept up your neck, heating up your cheeks under his intense scrutiny and you squirmed slightly, feeling the tops of your thighs already growing damp.

“Wet…” he softly noted with humour, your human ears barely picking up on it. Embarrassment caused your heart to practically halt in your chest, could he really tell so easily? “My drink.” He spoke again, much louder this time and you jumped as you snapped out of your stupor. That was until his words registered. Drink? He wanted to drink? From you?

“My wine, over there. Bring it to me,” he pointed lazily toward a table across the room before sinking into the water until he was completely submerged.

Oh. You couldn’t help the slight pang of disappointment that you felt at the fact that you weren’t going to experience a vampire bite. From what you’ve heard they were incredibly pleasurable, some even achieving climax untouched. But to be fed from by the prince himself, of course it was foolish of you to think something like that would ever happen to you. Blinking back frustrated tears you trudged over to the table, picking up the golden tray with the pitcher and goblets already placed on it.

Complete silence filled the room after you set everything down next to the tub, warily eyeing the dark surface of the water. However, you were unable to catch a sign of the prince and took it as your queue to leave, defeated at having gotten your hopes up. He likely knew what he was doing, bringing you here to torment you. It was obvious how painfully attracted you were to the prince, how much everyone was. Others were definitely not shy in their affection yet you were unable to even look at him for longer than a few moments.

A loud splash was all the warning you got before suddenly Seokjin broke from the surface of the water, standing to his full height in all his naked glory. Droplets of water clung to his golden skin, adorned by the occasional flower petal and it took every ounce of your restraint to not look down. One of his hands lifted up to sweep his wet hair back, exposing his forehead to your eyes and even that part of him was exquisite. The other reached to pick up his golden goblet, and he smirked in your direction before taking a sip of his wine. God, you truly did not know where to look, eyes raking over the expanse of his naked chest.

He smirked as you finally kept your eyes glued to his face, refusing to look even past his chest. Instead you paid particular attention to the rose petals which adorned his skin.

The two of you remained locked in a silent standoff, one that you knew you could not win. As if sensing your admittance to defeat, he sipped his wine, savouring the taste and you swallowed hard watching his thick, vascular neck move with each swallow. As if hypnotised by the depths of his rich pupils, you couldn’t seem to look away as he gazed so intently at you.

Leisurely he licked his lips, seemingly had enough wine, and the action caused your eyes to drop and watch his tongue swipe over the pillows of flesh, and for a microsecond his incisor could be seen. Hook. The leer returned when he knew he had you, and his grip on his goblet accidently slipped, causing the liquid to run in rivets down his chest. But you knew vampires did not do anything by accident. Line. No, there was always an ulterior motive with vampires, an intention. He tossed his golden goblet aside, a dull thud coming from across the room where it landed on the carpet. Sinker.

“Oh dear, I seem to have spilled my wine. Clean that up for me, won’t you? The flowers too, they do wonders for my complexion but getting them off me is so bothersome.”

You nodded silently, quickly glancing around the room to find a washcloth. Where, where did his other servants keep them? You’d never been in here before, being a lowly servant yourself you’d never even been to this part of the castle before.

“Here.” He quipped, breaking your panic, and cocking an eyebrow when you gaped at the cloth that seemed to have materialised in his hand. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“N-no! Of course your grace,” you spluttered, almost tripping in your haste.

“Good.”

Now closer than ever, were able to get a much better look at your prince. But in consequence, he was also able to get a much closer look at you. At this proximity, his aura was intense, the width of his shoulders blocking the rest of the room from your view. He had no shame in his nudity, as if it were a gift to your eyes.

Frankly, it was.

Palpitations fluttered in your chest as your eyes took in the chiselled planes of muscle across his chest and abdomen, stained slightly pink from the spilled red wine. As you moved the fabric down his chest you swallowed hard, realising how far down the spill actually travelled.

Part of you ached to even lick his skin clean, secretly wishing he would ask you to. Your own cheeks pinked at the thought, at how you’d get on your knees for him in an instant. It was well known that it was even an honour to merely be degraded by him, let alone other things.

When most of the spill on his upper half was cleaned, you began plucking away at the flowers that stuck to his skin. You reached for a rose petal on his pec when Seokjin grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Leave it. I’m cold now, and bored. It will wash off rather easily in the water I think,” he mused, quickly turning to step back into the tub.

“I can fetch your grace something that might entertain you?”

Perhaps that was all, he had merely brought you here to remind you of your place. A simple human, an ant under his foot. The thought of getting to leave the embarrassing situation had you feeling as though you could breathe easily again, until his next words came. “You will be my entertainment. Join me.”

“Your grace! I-I,” you spluttered, cheeks warming at his brash words.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure you wanted this. But I can hear the way your little heartbeat quickens when I look at you, such a desperate little slut. How in that millisecond when I hold your gaze how excited you become, how much you squirm and look away. You know, it’s rude not to stare at me.” He growled. “Now strip, or I’ll come get you myself.”

With haste, you began to unbutton your dress as to not keep him waiting, although each felt like an eternity to unfasten with him watching your fingers slip several times. Your hands shook as you peeled your clothes from your warm skin, but it was only partly out of nervousness.

The cold air of the room immediately caused your nipples to harden as your undergarments dropped to the floor and you were left bare in front of him. Seokjin’s eyes were trained intensely on the swell of your breasts, and you could have sworn you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips for a moment.

You lowered yourself into the warm water slowly, yet you shivered at his eyes on you. Only able to stand his ogling for a few seconds you sank the rest of the way into the warm water, feeling your bare skin engulfed in the opaque water. Once again Seokjin stretched out against the side of the tub, looking like a lion sunbathing, but even at ease they were ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

“Come here.”

The water swirled around you as you inched toward him, heart palpitating at the uncertainty of it all. The temptation of teasing him crossed your mind, a hesitation, keeping you just out of his reach. Clearly this did not please him, as he tutted and lurched forward to grab you by your elbow.

“Uh uh uh, I don’t think so. Here,” he suddenly growled as you were pulled toward him, and you felt his bare chest suddenly pressed against your back. “I want to watch you, watching me. Look,”

One of the largest mirrors you’d ever seen sat opposite the tub, trimmed with gold and illuminated by at least a hundred candles. The splendour of itself was enough to leave one breathless, but the vampire whose fingertips were creeping up your side was making it much more difficult.

You arched your back, thrusting forward your decolletage as an open invitation. Surprisingly, his touch was warm, and an involuntary gasp slipped from your lips as you finally felt him cup your breasts in his hands. You watched him knead the soft mounds of flesh, the water level stopped just below your chest. Seokjin’s dark eyes drank in the sight of you, and the feather light brush of his thumbs over your nipples had you squirming all the more.

Like pleasant torture he continued to torment you with the barest of touches, not quite exerting the pressure you wanted, the brute strength you knew he possessed. It would have to be tempted from him.

“You’re like the evil queen from that fairy tale,” you taunted as he continued to stare at your reflection in the mirror. Exactly as you had predicted, Seokjin was quick to chastise you with a harsh pinch to your sensitive nipples.

“I’d watch that pretty little tongue of yours, if you want to keep it.” What you hadn’t expected, however, was the way he was able to growl.

“Are you going to ask if you’re the fairest of them all?” Came your jaunt, rising to the challenge.

Quick as a flash his hand was closing around your throat, fingers pressing into the sides cutting off any blood flow and the room around you began to spin.

“Eyes on me, keep them open.” He rumbled, his breath warm at the shell of your ear. “I’m tired of you looking away, such disrespect to your royalty.” When you pried your eyes open again you saw something glinted in his eyes, and his fingers pressed a little tighter against your throat and you whined breathlessly. “Listen to your little pulse quicken, even when I hold your fleeting life in the palm of my hand you moan like a whore. I could kill you right now and you’d probably come.”

Right as you felt blackness creeping into the edges of your vision he let go and air rushed back into your lungs. The dizziness made you slump back against him, your eyes slipping shut as your surroundings were blurred. With a disappointed tut he pinched your breasts once more, drawing a whimper from you.

“Not so tough now, are we?”

Instead of answering him, you squirmed away from his ministrations, your behind effectively grinding against the length of him, hot and heavy under the water. Every second he went unanswered his displeasure grew, the fire in his eyes only burning hotter.

“Since you can’t seem to be an obedient little slut, I suppose some discipline is in order.” Swiftly you were reminded of his vampiric strength as he stood from the water, pulling you up into his arms as he sauntered over to a chair. He took his time, dropping you before he slumped into what looked like a velvet throne. Right in front of it sat another enormous mirror – how many could one person own?

Seokjin pulled you out of your thoughts and down onto his lap, manhandling you until you lay face down, ass up. You shivered at the ticklish feeling of his fingers running up the backs of your thighs, which had broken out in goosebumps from the cold air of the room. His fingernails brushed over your rump before he grabbed each of your cheeks in his hands, kneading them before spreading them.

The feeling of your glistening folds being exposed to the cold air had you gasping, involuntarily clenching and you knew he was watching intently. Seemingly pleased by what he saw, Seokjin blew on your pussy which had you squirming harder from the strange sensation. That, however, did not please him. Your hands which had been resting in front of you were twisted behind you, one of his hands circling your wrists like iron.

“Still.” He pressed his thumb against your clenched rim, and you paused at the unfamiliar feeling. “It’s tempting, to fuck your tight little asshole. Hmm, maybe I should.” The tip of his thumb ever so slightly dipped in, but then he withdrew it to land a hard slap on your rump. He gripped the flesh in his palm, massaging it to soothe the sting and parted your thighs more. “Tempting, but no. Your pussy looks far too appetising tonight, especially with how wet you're getting. Do you like being over my knee? So eager to become my little human fucktoy.”

Three more slaps landed on your ass, each one leaving a delicious sting in its wake and your breathing grew more jagged after you finished yelping. He continued to grip the globes of flesh as your aching cunt clenched, and he paused as you shivered.

“A little cold, hm?” Seokjin teased, knowing full well what it was that caused you to shudder. “Let’s warm you up then.”

Bracing yourself for another slap, a gasp of surprise left your lips when you felt little droplets of hot wax instead. Each one had you jolting, not able to move much due to him holding you down. But you were enjoying it, he knew you were enjoying it. Your back arched off his lap, the contrast of your cold skin mixed with the warm wax had you moaning louder with each droplet. The wax was almost too hot. Almost. But it cooled quickly, and if you were going to fuck with vampires you need to be able to enjoy pain with pleasure.

“Look at how nice and warmed up you are now, and how wet. You’re such a little slut for punishment. Is that why you purposefully provoked me into doing this? So I would have to punish this desperate little cunt of yours? Look at it,” he smirked, suddenly pulling you up and turning you so you sat with your back to his chest once more. He reached forward and yanked your thighs apart, so your soaked folds were on display in the candlelight.

You just love being handled like this, like a whore. Consider yourself lucky, for I could have anyone that I please on their knees for me. So, show me how grateful you are, on your knees.”

Not wanting to displease him you quickly obliged, grateful for the soft cushioning carpet. However, it only drew more attention to the aching throb between your thighs, and the faint warmth of your sore asscheeks. Looking up from admiring the thickness of his thighs, you gasped.

In front of your face was the largest cock you had ever seen, his size was truly inhuman. He was larger than any lover you’d ever had before, his length alone put every man in the kingdom to shame. You licked your lips in a rather unsubtle manner to which he tutted.

“If you’re so desperate for it, do something,” he practically purred, one hand twisting in your hair to drag you forward. He was in no way gentle you thought as your scalp ached, but the way it had your pussy clenching - the way he knew it turned you on - certainly didn’t have you complaining.

The tip of his cock brushed your cheek, smearing a few beads of sticky precome with it and you were quick to turn your head to the side and run the length of your tongue along the throbbing vein. You chased the little drops of precome that ran down the underside of the length, lapping all the way up to the mushroom head of his cock. You moaned at the taste of him as you gave little kitten licks to his slit. His grip in your hair only tightened and you looked up at him with hooded eyes, your sopping core clenching when you saw how dark his gaze had gotten.

It was unlikely you would be able to wrap your hand around his girth, and even less likely you would be able to fit him in your mouth. But still, you were eager to at least try. The tip of his cock slipped past your lips easily, and you suckled which drew a long moan from Seokjin. He pushed on the back of your head, and you pushed back in fear at the size of him.

“Don’t worry, it will fit. Vampire precome is a bit of an aphrodisiac, now open wide for your prince,” he told you with a glint in his eye. As if his words were compelling you, your jaw laxed and his shaft eased further past your lips. Eager to please him you released your grip only to steady your hands on his delectable thighs. He cocked an eyebrow at your action, but his steely expression broke when you opened your mouth ever wider and took him all the way in.

“Fuck!” Came from his plush lips and he threw his head back, hips rocking slightly.

Surprisingly, you felt no discomfort and your gag reflex seemed almost non-existent, and you began to bob your head back and forth.

“Fucking hell…mm. You're such a good little slut,” Seokjin grunted as he began to thrust harder, the way he began to look wrecked had your cheeks warming. You swallowed around his length and he almost snarled, his grip on your scalp tightening. His cock plunged into your throat over and over, his endless precome filling your mouth with sweetness each time he pulled out so the tip rested on your tongue.

“You’re going to make me come, little human. Such a perfect mouth for- ugh - me to fuck.” He pushed in once more, pulling on your hair until your nose touched his abdomen, and you could feel your cunt weeping uncomfortably from his praise. “Look at the way your throat is bulging. You’re enjoying this too much, making such a mess on the floor.”

A small puddle had gathered beneath you, your need growing more and more, and the suddenly need for relief hit you hard. One of your hands let go of his leg to snake down your abdomen to ease some of the ache.

“Absolutely not.” He snapped, shoving himself down your throat again. “You’ve been such a good girl, don’t misbehave now. You will wait until, mfph, after I’ve come, and you will swallow every drop. I’m close.”

His grip on your hair grew brutal yet it only drew more moans from you as you had a high pain threshold. It was a beautiful sight as his thrusts faltered, the way his pillowy lips parted, the thick column of his throat flexing and his body trembling as his orgasm washed over him. Not to mention the heavenly moans he let out.

Ropes of his warm, thick release spurted to the back of your throat. It was far from unpleasant, however, nothing like the salty, almost bitter taste of human cum. Just about everything about vampires was designed to lure you in, and you moaned a little while swallowing the thick white liquid.

“Good girl,” Seokjin cooed at you as you licked your lips.

“Please, your highness. I need to come. Please make me come, it hurts.” You begged, practically whimpering at his feet. In his post orgasm bliss, he gently cupped your cheek, even stroked your hair a little with the other hand while he looked at you tenderly.

“Come sit my sweet, let me ease your pain,” he cooed as he sunk back into his chair, easily tugging you around and catching you before you stumbled on wobbly legs. “Face the mirror.” A small whimper left you as you felt the length of him pressing into your lower back as you were brought flush against his chest.

“Hmm, let’s see. I wonder if I can make you squirt. Now wouldn’t that be fun,” he growled into your ear, grinning at the way you mewled and begged. “You’ve never squirted before, have you? That pathetic human boy I know you let fuck you behind the stables always left you unsatisfied.”

Your eyes widened, alarmed that he knew such a thing. “I’ve been watching you for some time, prey are always fun to stalk. Fuck whoever said you shouldn’t play with your food, they obviously don’t know how to have fun.”

Your whole body trembled as he gripped the flesh of your thighs, hands tugging them wide open so your swollen folds were on full display. They were glistening from how wet you had gotten, your engorged clitoris pulsing from your increasing heartbeat. It was almost painful, the throbbing in your nether regions. How your skin tingled and grew hot.

Each pound of your heart thundered in your ears like a drum, the aphrodisiac spreading through your bloodstream. It was like delicious poison, and you were dying a slow but beautiful death at the hands of a deadly predator. The only cure was to draw the poison from one’s body through release, through climax. Your cure was his body, his fingers, his cock, his bite.

“Look at that,” Seokjin teased, a single finger swiping through your lips to collect your sticky juices. With a feather light touch he teased the slicked digit over your clit and you clenched helplessly at the promise of stimulation. You snapped your legs shut, trapping his hand between your thighs to antagonise him. “Keep them open” he growled into your ear, supernatural strength tearing the apart again. His hand drew away, only to come back with a sharp slap on your poor pussy. Out of instinct your thighs tried closing again, but Seokjin was quick to reprimand you again with a succession of harsh slaps. Each one made you almost jump out of his lap, but you quickly learned to force your legs to stay apart. It took a few more slaps which left your thighs trembling, but you managed.

“Good girl,” he cooed when finally, you did as you were asked. Your chest rose and fell from your heavy breathing, and his flattened fingers rubbed over your sopping pussy lips. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head, unable to muster the words. However, a near scream came from you as two of his long fingers plunged into your wet heat, which was practically screaming for relief, crooking them and seeking out your most sensitive bundle of nerves nestled inside your cunt. You needed no preparation at all, the sheer amount of slick staining the insides of your thighs a testimony to that.

“Another time I’d very much like to do this with my cock buried deep into that tight little ass of yours, sluts like you always seem to squirt more when you fuck them there. What do you think?”

Before you even had a chance to answer, his hand wrapped itself around the column of your throat, fingers pressing into the blood flow and restricting your pulse. The action left you lost for an answer, all your other senses suddenly skyrocketing because of the light headedness. At that exact moment when the room began to spin, his fingers pumped ever fasted, and mixed with the aphrodisiac that had your entire body tingling with electricity you found yourself hurtling into your first orgasm.

However, it seemed the prince was intent on finding your breaking point. A wicked smirk spread across his face as you writhed in his lap despite being held firmly down, eyes rolling back as the room spun and you felt yourself gush around his fingers with a scream.

“That’s it! Good girl, soak my fingers, c’mon. I know you can come again for me.”

His assault on your most sensitive spot didn’t stop, and your thighs trembled as he relented his grip, air filling your lungs once more. You weren’t sure if your first high even finished before a sudden overwhelming feeling of pleasure gripped you, and your bones melted as you climaxed and squirted again.

Thankfully he showed some mercy, allowing you to grind yourself on his fingers at your own pace. The last waves of your orgasm ebbed away as you moaned softly, but you were far from satisfied. No, if anything you were just getting warmed up. While his fingers had felt nice, you needed the deep feeling of his cock or you felt like you might die.

“Please. I want you, I need you to fuck me. Nothing else matters right now,” the sound of your voice was pure desperation.

“Nothing else matters?” Seokjin drawled, pushing your hair to one shoulder. “I could do anything right now if it meant I gave you what you want?”

“Yes, anything. Anything!”

The first brush of his fangs against your throat had your racing heart stopping, but he was quick to pull away.

He lifted your body like you weighed nothing, manoeuvring you with his inhuman strength. The tip of his already erect again cock brushed against your entrance between your slick, swollen folds, and he began easing in. If you weren’t already so worked up the stretch would surely have been painful, but your cunt easily took him inch by inch. He hadn’t even bottomed out before you gripped him tightly, trying to rock for some friction but he held you still.

“Look at me,” he growled in your ear, and your gaze met his in the large mirror right as he bottomed out and the tip kissed your cervix. Despite his strength you still managed to squirm somewhat, whimpering at the pleasure his cock brought. He seemed to relax his hold on you a little, allowing you more freedom to move which you quickly took advantage of.

“Oh f-fuck, Seokjin,” came your breathy whine. His face twisted in pleasure and he seemed to give in, shifting his large hands down to your hips to aid you in your grinding. Back and forth you moved, panting heavily, skin glistening in the golden light as Seokjin watched the way your soft breasts moved and your belly bulged slightly.

“Sit forward,” he half grunted, half moaned as he slumped back in the chair. His words barely registered with you until he tugged on your hips, using his strength to begin fucking you harder on his length. With a yelp at the sudden change in pace, you grabbed onto his knees and your eyes rolled back in your head, helpless to do anything but allow him to do as he pleased. “You have such pretty tits, I love watching them bounce as you take my cock so well.”

His words of praise had your toes curling, that building pleasure in your abdomen growing tenfold, and it only made you want to please him more. “I love it, I love having you fuck me like this. You can have me whenever you want!”

“How delectable you are. I ought to punish you for keeping yourself away from me. For letting others whom are not worthy sample your sweet nectar. But alas, it was only a matter of time before you gave yourself to me,” he moaned, sitting forward so his mouth was right up against the shell of your ear. “Now, your reward for being such a good girl.”

As fast as you could blink, one hand snaked up under your chin to hold you in place. His pillowy lips brushed the flesh of your neck, seeking out right where your pulse was strongest. For half a second you felt a sharp prick, terror momentarily gripping you as the tips of his fangs found their mark. Seokjin bit down into your flesh like butter, the razor-sharp incisors burying deep. However, there was no pain, only a deep warmth that bled through your neck from where he bit you. Within seconds he began ever so gently moving his hips, his cock still buried inside you brushing against your g-spot. The warmth began spreading across your whole body, melting your bones and your cunt began throbbing, an orgasm building very quickly.

“Oh- Seokjin, I-” Before you could even finish the sentence it hit all over, making every muscle in your body quake with pleasure. Thankfully he was equipped with adequate strength to hold you in place, like the perfect predator he was.

It went on and on, your muscles quivering, your cunt quaking and your little pants and gasps filling the room as he swallowed mouthfuls of blood.

“So sweet,” he gasped as he pulled away, finally giving you reprieve. “Delectable.” His plush lips were stained pink from the little drops of blood that had escaped, some even dripping down your shoulder as you twitched from the aftershocks.

His hot tongue swiped over your skin, cleaning any spots of blood that had been left. A wave of sudden nausea washed over you and you slumped forward, luckily for Seokjin’s reflexes his arms wrapped around you before you fell.

“Do you want to stop?” He whispered with a sudden tender note, hands cradling you gently when you couldn’t hold yourself up.

“No! No...please. I just need a moment...m tired,” you mumbled, eyes drooping.

“It’s normal, don’t worry. I have something that will make you feel better, here.” Gently he began easing you off his lap, his length beginning to slip out but you whined in protest. “You have to let me move princess, don’t worry. I’ll fill you up again in a moment.”

Somewhat pacified by his promise, you allowed yourself to be lifted and before you could blink you were sinking into the soft cushions of the chair. Your eyes slipped shut after Seokjin had vanished suddenly, and you heard him rummage around the room behind you.

“Here,” he murmured, and you opened your eyes to see him kneeling in front of you. His hand tenderly cupped the back of your head as he pressed a glass to your lips.

The liquid was delightfully warm, tasting of plum and spices and you hummed happily as you swallowed it down. He whispered little encouragements to you, tipping the cup when you needed until it was empty.

“Good girl. It happens to all humans after feeding, you’ll be fine in a moment.” With that he disappeared, perhaps getting himself a drink while you recovered. The potion was fairly quick to take effect, filling your tired muscles with a thrum of newfound energy. One that had your libido coming straight back from the lingering aphrodisiac in your veins.

“I can keep going,” you told him, standing with an air of determination. Seokjin was quick to rush to your side again, steadying you when your legs wobbled a little. He arched a brow in question, not quite believing you. “Please, I don’t want you to stop.”

“If you say so.” He appeared behind you, drinking in every inch of your naked skin like he was ready to devour you all over again. Seokjin hooked his arm behind your elbows, pulling you flush to him and effectively pushing your chest forward.

“You’ll have to stay on your toes, do you think you can do that little human?” His teeth grazed your earlobe as he whispered into your ear. Eagerly you nodded, standing on the balls of your feet, entire being thrumming with a newfound energy as you felt the tip of his cock brushing through your folds.

Once again he sought out your entrance, easily sinking back into your warmth and you whimpered at how deep he reached from this new angle. Immediately he set a brutal pace, loud slaps echoing about the room along with your cries and his low grunts.

“Please, harder! I don’t want you to be gentle.” Came your cry, attempting to drop down to meet each move of his pelvis. Only a feral snarl came from the vampire behind you, fulfilling your wish by now slamming himself into you.

With each thrust his hip bones dug into your ass cheeks and your breasts bounced. The thickness of his cock had you moaning like a whore each time it split your walls open, his tip kissing your cervix. The angle of his hips was expert, he was obviously an experienced lover but you didn’t expect him to be this good.

“Look at me. Who’s fucking you like this? Who?” He growled into your ear.

“Seokjin!” You wailed as he once again speared you on his length. A sharp slap to your clit had you keening, rising to your tiptoes again from the sharp stab of pleasure. “Prince Seokjin!” You hastily corrected, his slight discipline also reminding you to keep your gaze on your reflexion.

“Good girl. Such an eager little slut, so ready to serve your prince.”

“Always. I’ll always be ready and willing for you to use me as you please. Oh! I’m gonna come again!”

“Good girl. Fuck, you can really take it. Come for your prince,” he growled, hand snaking down to rub circles on your clit.

Muscles tensing you shuddered, feeling the euphoric feeling wash over you once again as he fucked you through your high. If it weren’t for him holding you up, surely your legs would have given out from how much they shook. A sudden wave of tiredness washed over you, the potion’s effect exhausted and you slumped in Seokjin’s arms.

He pulled out and you moved suddenly with a whoosh of air, soft sheets underneath your stomach. Seokjin was on you again straight away, picking right back up where he left off and parting your thighs, you moaned at the sudden stretch as he buried his cock into your cunt once again.

“M-gonna, fill you uh- up, fuck!” He panted, thrusts growing sloppy as he panted loudly on top of you. Leaving no room between your sticky bodies, he draped across you entirely, barely keeping his weight off you. It was strangely comforting, making your toes curl pleasantly in your post orgasm bliss as Seokjin shuddered above you. Heavenly moans and profanities spilled from lips as he came, warmth spilling inside you with a few last thrusts. Lazily you reached beneath you, rubbing circles into your throbbing, blood fattened nub to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Still panting, he leaned down to whisper something in your ear as you drifted off to sleep before disappearing like a shadow in the night. Spent and muscles aching, you laid on the soft sheets as the sun rose, his words finally sinking in.

“See you tomorrow night.”

#bts smut #seokjin smut #vampire seokjin #bts imagine #seokjin imagine #kim seokjin #kim seokjin smut

414 notes · View notes

poptod · 3 years

Text

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them. also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

39 notes · View notes

teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Haunted House

(Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Request: What about a haunted house with Stiles?? I love the adrenaline rush but also I think it would be hilarious for someone who deals with literal supernatural creatures to go to a haunted house 😂

Word count: 1,315

Warnings: none, just haunted house shenanigans

Notes: I added Scott bc I couldn’t help myself, hopefully that’s okay! Also, send me more fall themed requests bc I’m obsessed!!

———————————————————————

A high pitched scream echoed through the small hallway, making you recoil back in fear.

A broad-shouldered figure rammed into your front as they tried scurrying away from whatever had startled them. The boy turned to face you, his chocolate eyes wide with panic.

“What? What was it?” A shaky voice rushed out from behind you.

“I don’t know. I thought I saw something.” The boy’s eyebrows rose sheepishly as he shrugged.

You slapped a hand against his chest for scaring you unnecessarily. “Scott, get it together. You’re literally a fucking werewolf!”

He frowned at you, offended by your accusatory tone. This haunted house was scary as shit already, and the three of you had barely gotten ten feet inside. Werewolf or not, this was not his idea of fun.

As if on cue, an angry voice shouted urgently from the entrance. “Get a move on! We have a line out here!”

“You heard her.” You swept your arm forward, gesturing for him to finish leading the way.

He scoffed, already feeling terrified enough for one night. “No way.”

You swiveled around to look at the boy behind you, catching a glimpse of his wide-eyed expression before he forced it into a more neutral one. He squared his shoulders and cleared his throat, glancing between his two partners-in-crime quickly.

“Fine. Sure. I-I’m not even scared, so...” He brushed past both you and Scott, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes in disbelief.

“Okay, Stiles.” If you knew one thing about him, it was that he liked to pretend he was fearless.

Realistically, you all knew this was fake. This wasn’t even one of those haunted houses that required a waiver or anything. It was literally put on by the high school’s theater department.

Plus, you’d already been through enough real terrors to supply a lifetime of nightmares. Jackson turning into a murderous kanima, Allison’s psychotic grandpa, a pack of alphas, and an ancient nogitsune to name a few. But there was just something about teenagers covered in fake blood jumping out of the dark that never failed to get your heart pumping.

Stiles took a few tentative steps forward and you looked at Scott expectantly when he didn’t move. The two of you fought silently for a few seconds, both jerking your arms in his direction, insisting the other go first. After a few long moments you finally relented with a scowl, rushing to catch up.

You crowded up close to Stiles’ back and grabbed one of his hands for comfort. You weren’t going to admit it to either of them, but you were actually pretty scared. Stiles spazzed wildly at the unexpected contact, whipping around to face you with wide eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit! Don’t do that!” He whispered harshly, his heart racing in his chest. He literally thought he was dying for a second there.

You looked at him incredulously and quietly yelled right back. “Are you kidding me right now? I thought you weren’t scared.”

His honey eyes twitched at your mocking tone before he begrudgingly turned back around. You walked forward slowly, hand in hand, for only a second before a room to your right illuminated to show a man dressed as a farmer. He was using a chainsaw to cut someone, who was suspended up like a scarecrow, in half.

It was a combination of the jarring volume of the saw, the guy’s maniacal laughter, and his victims screams that had you bolting up the narrow hall.

You put a hand on your chest as you tried catching your breath. Stiles hunched over, resting his hands on his knees for support as his chest heaved. You’d think he just tried to run a mile with the way he was gasping for air.

“Remember when I said that we should always listen to everything I say and never question any of my ideas ever?” Stiles huffed, looking up at you with a harsh glare.

You just smiled sheepishly. “I thought it would be fun...”

Fall had just started, after all. Beacon Hills tended to get freezing way too soon, and you wanted to soak up the autumn festivities while you could. Lydia and Kira had outright refused to come, despite your various attempts at bribery.

The boys were the only ones that usually humored you, anyway, so nothing was new there. Stiles turned back around and you continued down the path slowly, jumping at every single small noise or masked person who jumped out.

You were just beginning to think that you’d gone a suspicious amount of time without anything happening, when suddenly a person dressed in a terrible Freddy Krueger costume popped out of nowhere. Seriously, it looked like someone’s school project or something.

You screamed, more startled than actually scared. Stiles’ hands wrapped around your biceps and he shoved you in front of him, using you as a human shield. That plan only lasted a split second before he thought better of it and moved you behind him instead.

The guy’s yelling was all jumbled up beneath his mask, but he was determined to get a good scare out of you. When he slashed what you hoped was a fake knife at you, Stiles lunged forward and punched him right in the face.

Your jaw dropped in shock as the poor kid crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain. Stiles’ eyes widened in horror beside you. He was honestly more surprised than you that he’d just done that, but it was just his knee-jerk reaction to the sight of someone trying to hurt you.

He grabbed your hand tightly and speed-walked down the hall, ready to get the hell out of there. You happily let him drag you along, not wanting to be there anymore than he did. It was only after a few seconds that you realized you no longer felt Scott’s presence at your back.

“Wait!” You breathed, stumbling to a halt. You spun around only to confirm that he actually wasn’t there. “Where’s Scott?”

“Oh, Jesus. Are you kidding me with this? How did he get lost? There’s literally only one way you can go.” Stiles was more annoyed at the delay than anything. He just wanted to get this over with and drink some overpriced apple cider in the safety of the pumpkin patch outside.

“We have to go back.” You took a step in the direction you’d just come from, but had no choice but to stop as Stiles tightened his hold on you.

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head quickly and tugged you closer to his side. “He’s probably already dead, you know? He would want us to make it out of here. So we should really just—”

At that moment, someone popped out from behind a black curtain you hadn’t even noticed. Stiles spazzed beside you with a shout, dropping your hand to flail his arms upward before bolting down the hallway.

You stared at his retreating figure, jaw dropping at the way he’d just left you so easily. You glared at the masked stranger before stomping your way toward the exit, completely over this whole thing. Only a few moments later, you emerged from the haunted house, your narrowed eyes landing on Stiles as he bent over and clutched at his chest.

You were about to lay into him for abandoning you, when you caught sight of Scott sitting on a bail of hay a few feet away. He had the nerve to smirk at you in amusement, a cup of apple cider in one hand and a pretzel in the other. “Took you guys long enough.”

“We are never...” Stiles gasped for breath and raised an accusatory finger your way. “Ever doing anything like that again.”

You just rolled your eyes, knowing full well you’d force them into doing this again next year, and they would let you.

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #scott mccall #stiles x y/n #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf fic #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski fic #fall vibes #scott mccal imagine #scott mccall imagine

142 notes · View notes

toxicsamruby · 3 years

Note

supernatural really wants to have it both ways where they explore the humanity of the monsters and they forgive some of them (like always white ones from what i’ve seen) but then they’re unwilling to make any meaningful statements about the arbitrary and eugenicist nature of hunting because it would be way too much work. dean killing amy (the kitsune sam kissed as a kid) was framed much more as a betrayal against sam than it was the wrong thing to do to a person, so even those they choose to not kill can seem more like favors to each other than actual understanding that that is a person who should not be killed. like if it was a monster hunting show where they didn’t explore the humanity of the monsters and just made them unquestionably evil all of the time it would still be bad, but in the way any fantasy media having “evil” species/races is bad and not in the rather unique way it is with monsters who are explicitly people and still are “deserving” of being wiped out. (sorry if i didn’t connect these ideas super great, i am tired and hungover)

YES MHM UR RIGHT! like what makes supernatural so ESPECIALLY bad is that they establish that monsters are people and that some of them are FORGIVABLE (generally the ones that have personal value and/or use to the leads). but theres never any real explanation for why the dead ones need to be dead, only arguments for why we shouldn’t kill an individual one. which is just batshit crazy like literally they demonstrate over and over again that “humanity” might as well be a social construct that monsters only suffer violence for bc they dont fit it.

and what that does is it gives any “monsters” some room to beg for their lives and repress their monstrousness and try very hard to fit into a white human ideal for hunter approval. and IF they succeed, MAYBE they’ll get some grace. literally sam is the ULTIMATE example of this! he starts out the show being forced back into the life SPECIFICALLY bc he’s monstrous, his family almost kills him for it, and he spends 15 years slowly repressing all of it again until he’s able to fit into that white human ideal. like theres an argument to be made that that is the fundamental thesis of supernatural!

#like ur right it would not have been as bad if they never questioned the monsters humanity #like it wouldve been bad still but not AS bad #and it might even have been good if they were trying to do the other way where monsters Are just people who deserve life #but they had to hover in the middle #which is a more COMPLICATED and could genuinely be better than both extremes #but they never. fucking.#not even a drop of self awareness.#asks #crit

18 notes · View notes

ziracona · 3 years

Note

On a scale of one to ten (one is your screwed and ten is your gonna destroy them) how would you do in a fight against the dead by daylight killers. First rules though. 1. No prep for either side (suck it Danny) 2. No guns! Only weapons found around your house. 3. It's to the death one being leaves an that's it. 4. No help from friends or pets. 5. Whether legion is four teens or just one combined is up to you.

Uhh, this depends drastically on if you mean I one v one every one of them, or if I’m trying to fight a mob. Because if it’s me vs all of them, I’d just die. Like I’m sure I’d have decent odds of killing at least one, maybe two, and taking them with me. But I’m not John Wick—I cant 1v23 a bunch of armed people with some degree of experience with their weapons given no prep time, allies, or special weapons to save me. I like basically anyone else die sadly to the mob.

If this is one v one though, bc it’d be hard to get them all to work together anyway, and that’s the only way like anyone stands a chance?

Evan: I give me 50-50 odds. He’s way bigger than me and his weapon has a longer reach than any known, even the swords. I’m pretty good at thinking on my feet though. I feel like I have about a 50% chance of living or dying (I’m getting gravely injured regardless), but if I die, I am taking him with me, 80% chance. I was not always proficient at winning fights, but I was very good at not losing them. I’ve been known for taking a sword to get a kill hit at cons a lot. I give me a 6 at simultaneous KO or victory.

Philip I refuse to kill. Even if he was trying to kill me. I would defend myself though. Much bigger threat than Evan to me because I /don’t/ want to hurt him at all, which puts me at disadvantage and liable to freeze up or make mistakes even trying to deal nonlethal damage, he’s bigger and taller than me so height and weight advantage, and I don’t have long enough weapons to help me overcome that, plus on top of that, he’s a tactical fighter, which is what I am. And I think it’s harder to beat someone at your and their own game than just to beat another style most of the time. I mean skill is skill in any area, but I’d take a really strong tank in a fight rather than a planner any day of the week. I think he’s smart, probably smarter than me under pressure, definitely more experienced, and would kick my ass tactically if his heart was in it. If it wasn’t though, I’d have a chance to catch him off guard. I think Vs Philip I get one chance to use a tricky move, and if I mess that up, I die. If I do it right, maybe I can knock him out. It’s a one shot long shot at disadvantage. I give me a 4 if his heart isn’t in it, 3 if it is.

Hillbilly has a chainsaw and hammer, but those are both unwieldy and slow weapons. I’m faster than him, and I’m willing to get hurt. Also he’s killed a lot, but he’s not a /fighter/, which gives me an edge. Being tactical works really well vs someone whose edge is brute force. And he doesn’t have as massive a height or strength advantage. I also have tricks and home court advantage. So long as I don’t fuck up, I give myself an 8.5.

Sally isn’t that scary. I would try to incapacitate her. I feel I could easily take her as a ghost or a person. I have good ghost fighting supplies, salt, chalk, talismans, knowledge. I’m prepared for this. I think I’m coming in for this one at a solid 10.

Michael Myers would kill me. I mean, he’s got like X-Man semi invincibility, good skills, and I don’t really want to kill him. I’d try to talk him down while defending myself. I’d probably fail, but I’d try. Best case scenario I get him to hesitate, but also I’m being generous and giving me a 12% chance of that. Realistically, best case is I pull out a rug, trip him, and temporarily escape. A fight in an enclosed space, most likely outcome is I try and fail to talk him down, and I die. I feel very sure I cannot take him in a fight unless Ishtar herself blesses me with god like abilities. I’m probably dead. At least it would be quick. I give me a 1.6.

Lisa is tiny and not that strong. I could easily break her little glass bones. I’m taller and stronger than her, and she had worse weapons than me. I would try not to kill her though—just incapacitate. I feel I could do this while sustaining only minor wounds. Not to give you a look beyond weird ghost shit into my personal arsenal, but I definitely have supplies for that. I give me a 10.

Herman is tall and strong but he’s not a fighter. He’s a scientist. I’ve been shocked before, and I know what to expect from him. He’s getting blasted by a power washer at range until his weird face apparatus comes off and he’s down and out. I have more precise weapons than him and can easily neutralize his abilities and turn them against him. Also have rubber to wear. He’s big though, so for that alone I give me a 9.6 in case I mess up.

Anna would destroy me. She’s good at ranged weapons, I am not. I would try to look as young as possible and convince her in my very bad but slowly improving baby Russian to please have mercy on me. We’re back to the Michael scenario where I know I have no chance of normal survival and would have to try and talk my way out. My odds are higher here though. I’m pretty cute and I know a little Russian. I give me a 4. But the 4 is not me winning it’s my odds of surviving through begging for my life. She’d kick my ass in a fight.

Bubba isn’t that good at fighting and has a big and cumbersome, if scary, weapon. I feel I could easily use terrain, weapons, and strategy to my advantage and kill him, unless I’m in a place with no terrain or furniture. In which case it’d be a lot worse for me. If I was not, though, I give me a solid 9.6 at owning that fight. I have a good throwing arm and plenty of stuff that can blind a foe, and a lot of weapons. A lot of weapons.

Freddy. Okay this is hard. I know how to kill him about as well as anyone does? So comparatively my odds are good? But. Also he’s a demon and a bit of a heavyweight in this arena. Sadly. If we’re in-realm rules, I have a /very/ good chance of kicking his ass. Give me a 10 to win, although I might not survive either. Probably would. If he’s like /film/ loadout? I give me more like a 6. It would be a battle, but I have a lot of knowledge and determination. Also I’m taller than him and bigger and could break his arms.

Amanda. Easy fam, that’s a 10. No, 11. Injured recently drugged Eric Matthews almost kicked her ass while toting a smashed foot. She’s like, 5 foot 1 and 30 pounds underweight. It’s not gonna be hard at all.

Kenneth I give me a 10 too. Easy fam. Even if he gets realm rules where he’s not tripping balls on his own drugs, I know what he’s got. I’ve got better weapons, I’m young, fast, strong, and smarter. I hold my breath, and run him through. Quick jabs from a dagger, take him down. Use my agility. He was never a fighter anyway—he used drugs to prey on people who couldn’t fight back. You know what? Give me another 11.

Rin? Uhhhh, I know as much as about anyone how to deal with her, but my odds of succeeding /before/ she killed me are...not great. And if we fought, there’s no way I have the ability to kill an Onryo. I put using my supernatural beings knowledge to hold her back long enough to stop her in the realm of improbably, but potentially doable, and give myself a 2.7. This is not to kill her though. Just to make her stop killing me. I have no way near the power or spiritual knowledge needed to kill something like that.

Legion I’d not really want to kill. They’re all teenagers or baby 20 year olds. I don’t want to wail fatally on kids, even ones who suck. That said, I think I could take them in a fight. If it was four and I got to fight them one at a time, easiest, four in one body back to back is medium, four at once is hard. First two options I could potentially fight to not kill. Third option only choice would be do everything I can to even /maybe/ have a shot. I have less experience stabbing people, but I’m more ready to take pain, and more motivated, so I give myself a 6, 5, and 3.5 to those scenarios respectively. I would be badly wounded regardless.

Adiris I don’t have healthy enough fear of dying of bubonic plague, and that would give me an edge. I think I have a good sword and shield combo to deal with the mace. She’s tall, but I have her beat in strength and stamina as well as agility bc she’s emaciated and dying. I would not want to kill her though. Might try to talk to her in my fucked Akkadian. Try to incapacitate if that failed. I give me a solid 8 if she’s treating this like a 9 to 5 or distracted by me, give me a 4 if she wants me /dead/. Either way, I probably have to run to the CDC and pray I survive scarred after.

Danny is just some sneaky dick with a knife. He doesn’t even know how to get stabbed. Slightly harder than a few other knife fighters bc he wears so much damn leather, but the eyes and mouth of that mask are vulnerable, and I feel sure I can drive a knife into them before sustaining any kind of fatal wound. He doesn’t have much edge on me in any area, I have him well beat in conviction, and I’m smarter than him by quite a bit. I give me a 9.

Uhhh, Demo isn’t that hard, and I love fire. Probably gonna get a little hurt, but I’m not worried about this one. Easy 10.

Kazan is interesting. He has me beat in size and strength, but his weapon is unwieldy and slow. I have quick weapons and am more agile, and I’m ready to fight dirty to save myself. 7 probably. It’s a luck thing. I have the edge, but if he really lands a hit on me even once, it’s all over. So. Not the /best/ of odds. Maybe a 6.8, actually.

You said no guns but I assume Caleb still gets his. He only gets one shot before being vulnerable though, and he’s much older than me. I’m faster and more agile, and stronger. He’s got really good endurance too though so I don’t have the edge there. It’s gonna be kind of a game of chicken to see who blinks. If he misses his one shot, I win. If he gets the shot, he wins. However, I think my odds of baiting the shot and getting my opening are decent. I give me a solid 7 here.

I still don’t even know which Pyramid Head he /is/. Why does any version exist here and want to kill me, can he smell, can I use that, can electricity hurt him, can he use my guilt against me? There are so many unknowns for both of us, I give us both a 5.

Talbot is an easy 10 unless he gets the jump on you. But you said no planning, so no surprise attacks, so I give me a 10. His body is literally falling apart, and all the blight serum in the world can’t save him from me forever. I have a bunch of tools at my disposal, and he’s fast, but he’s not accurate. Edge, me.

Victor and Charlotte. Interesting one here. Don’t want to kill them either, but I would to save myself I guess if I couldn’t stop them. Not scared of Victor. I bite too, and I go for the throat. Charlotte is more of a problem. Finally it’s a tall killer with a short range weapon though, so edge: me, in weapons. I think I have decent odds of beating them, but I would not get out unscathed. Give me a 7.5.

Jo-Woon. Depends wildly. He throws tiny knives that do too little damage. If he takes me seriously as a threat and tries to go for the throat before I can get close, edge: him, and I’m in for a really rough fight even with a shield. If he wants to fuck around with me though, I’ll win. Because I am prepared to suffer immensely to get a kill shot. If he was smart, I’d give the fight a 6, but I feel extremely confident he’d be cocky, so I give me a 9 to survive, a 10 to at worst get a simultaneous K.O.

#ask #anonymous #dead by daylight

14 notes · View notes

hellerism · 3 years

Note

Rank Supernatural's showrunners from least fav to most fav and explain why (include any spicy drama and takes).

ooooh hm ok.....gonna have to think about this one

4. miss sera homophobia gamble. this one is just a given; seasons 6 and 7 are widely known as the two worst seasons of supernatural. she is such a mystery to me, bc she tried to permakill cas, but she was the one who convinced kripke to introduce cas in the first place so like...she did that to herself. she’s also written some of my favorite episodes, including dead in the water, so. what goes on sera. my general opinion on her is that she’s a good writer for individual episodes but she should never be handed the reins for an entire show and also she needs someone to check her for the casual homophobia she always sprinkles in for flavor.

3. andrew dabb. i did enjoy parts of his seasons! i loooove dadstiel and their little family, and i think jack was one of the best things to happen to supernatural in a long time. the deconstruction of mary in season 12 makes me absolutely insane. however, his seasons are also...boring. his overarching plots like the british men of letters and aw michael were very underwhelming. season 12 was the first season i watched live and is also one of my least favorites. i also hate whatever vendetta he had against dean like. look how they massacred my boy. and his glorification of john is unacceptable. he deserves jail for lebanon, even if i do enjoy some of the other episodes he’s written.

now, for season 15, i LOVED the idea behind it. i loved the themes of free will, fans taking over the narrative, death of the author, etc. i thought chuck was a great villain, and i genuinely liked how most of it was executed. of course it all fell apart at the very end, and i wish we knew why. i want to know if this was always dabbs plan or if he was forced to change the ending, and if he was forced to change it, what was it originally supposed to be? i just want to know who to blame.

2. jeremy carver. now, his era is the one i remember the least of, but most of what i do remember is very good. season 8 was obviously one of the best seasons for deancas (it’s called season gr8 for a reason) and i do remember enjoying 11. couldn’t tell you a thing about 9 or 10. his biggest crimes were killing off both kevin and charlie (i mean even if he didn’t write those episodes he still let it happen), so i dislike him for that. again i don’t remember much else so i can’t really say more about his era.

other than that i generally enjoy carvers writing. ive noticed he’s written some of the more baity deancas episodes. like he was insane for free to be you and me. im not sure when he switched to actually supporting it but hey im glad he did.

1. and yes, unfortunately, that leaves kripke as my favorite spn showrunner. despite everything his era is my favorite. sure, a lot of the things that were cohesive about seasons 1-5 were by sheer luck and coincidence, but at least they were cohesive. the story and aesthetics were great, sam was an actual character with personality and motivations (early seasons bitchy bloodfreak sammy supremacy), and each season raised the stakes in an organic way so that the danger actually felt real. i like most of the episodes that he wrote. however just bc he’s (sigh) my favorite showrunner doesn’t mean i like him and i’d verbally abuse him if i ever saw him irl.

kripke era suffers from a lot of misogyny homophobia and racism (they all do). even though i enjoyed season 1 it was especially bad to indigenous people, and im sure it does not get better from there. i am not looking forward to the gordon storyline when i rewatch season 2. plus there’s the whole “supernatural is built on the white supremacist ideal that white suburbia needs to be defended from the Other” thing that kripke is responsible for bc he created the show but never bothered to interrogate (except for gordon but im sure i dont have to explain why that did not work at all). the writing for all the women was atrocious and obviously there’s all the homophobic jabs and jokes but whatever we already knew that i can just brush the misogyny and homophobia off. and honestly the casual homophobia is funny sometimes.

tldr: there are no good supernatural showrunners they all suck

#i should’ve been the supernatural showrunner i could fix the show #also sorry i don’t know much about behind the scenes drama i dont seek that out on my own #ask

19 notes · View notes

swearwolf-writes · 3 years

Text

Teen Wolf 2020

it’s 2020 and corona is a bitch :) the wolves might not be able to get sick but they still wear their masks bcs they could still be carriers so *clears throat* WEAR YOUR MASKS Y’ALL!! this is very much a no one dies/everybody lives au :)

[CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Scott McCall - age 26

this cute nerd. he studied veterinary medicine which takes about 4 years so he graduated in 2017 and works as Deaton’s partner at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. he’s dating Isaac (bcs he came back from France with Argent, remember) and Kira (she came back from the Skinwalkers in 2019 and has a proper grasp on her powers). sorry scalia shippers but it’s not really my thing-

Stiles Stilinski - age 26

NERD. anywho- FBI dork became an agent in 2019 whoo and lives in DC with Lydia, Derek and Braeden. he’s dating Lydia and Derek and things are pretty chill - he yells at arseholes who refuse to wear their masks bcs ‘it’s uncomfortable :(’ like bite me karen no one cares

Derek Hale - age 32

grumpy sourwolf actually knows how to smile!! who knew- he lives in DC with Stiles, Lydia and Braeden most of the time but he and Braeden travel often to fight butthead hunters who need to mind their own business. he’s dating Stiles and he and Braeden are engaged - it’s cute and they’re being dorks about it. he likes to complain that they’d be married by now if it wasn’t for freakin covid

Lydia Martin - age 26

your local genius banshee~ 🥰 still awesome, still a harbinger of death - so yk, the usual. bcs she had extra credits she started as a junior studying maths and graduates in 2016!! 🎉🎉 she moved to DC after she got some money together while working as a tutor - the quartet splits rent (but usually it’s just Stiles and Lydia splitting it bcs the other two don’t technically have jobs and yk Derek is an unsub and Stiles is in the FBI which Lydia finds hilarious). she teaches adults in the local community college and helps supernatural folk on the dl - she runs a grief counselling service at the same place for people who’ve lost someone. she’s also trying to get a degree to become a high school maths teacher and it’s a lot but she’s got it handled.

Allison Argent - 24

accidentally brought back from the dead by the Dread Doctors. everyone could not stop crying bcs she’s back baby!! she died in 2011 age 17 and came back in 2012 so she wasn’t dead long thankfully - wanted to kill Theo bcs he messed with her pack even he did bring her back. she’s a chimera now lads- she needed a kidney transplant when she was young which was why she was kept away from the family business. she was a werewolf-werejaguar chimera like Hayden but stayed a chimera. Chris and Isaac stayed home and bcs she and Isaac never actually broke up, they kept dating - she found it funny that Isaac and Scott were dating at this point,, meanwhile they were panicking wildly :) she went back to school and said she wasn’t dead, just in the hospital for a really long time. she joined Liam’s year and again, wanted to very badly throw hands when she found out about Monroe- she’s the coolest, like she has claws and bow and arrows

Malia Tate - 26

our girl went to France as promised and hooked up with plenty of hot French people *le eyebrow wiggle* she found her beau there in France and it was not a love at first sight sort of thing - she wanted to punch them in the face,, in their very pretty face- she was basically doing her own thing when she smells them, another bloody werewolf and like don’t get me wrong, she’s fond of werewolves, but bloody hell do they cause trouble. and they smell her too and it’s like ‘eh-?’ bcs werecoyotes aren’t so common as werewolves. and they’re just there in a club in Bordeaux and they’re sniffed each other out and they kinda just pause like huh- bcs they were were not expecting to see someone that pretty- but that’s not the point of course- they pretend to leave together and as soon as they’re out of sight from humans, they start fighting in an alley, as you do. it ends up with the wolf tasting the wall bcs who the hell are you- once they figure out they’re both just there to party, things chill and they see more of each other, naturally, it’s all just a big coincidence and doesn’t mean anything. and then they’re dancing and it doesn’t mean anything. and then they’re sleeping together and it doesn’t mean anything. except it does. and they don’t know when it became normal to cuddle or wake up together or have breakfast together but it just was. and when the cute werewolf (who I still don’t have a name for-) plans on moving to the next place, she comes with. the pack are happy for her and they usually road trip from place to place so when the pack comes to visit in Prague? it’s fun to say the least

Kira Yukimura - age 25

she came back from the Skinwalkers in 2019 and she and Allison became good friends. she kept going with school from home and is dating Scott. her powers are strong and when she sneezes bcs yk pollen or wtv, there’s sparks and it’s hilarious and Scott finds it adorable. she doesn’t really know what she wants to do yet and that’s cool of her

Erica Reyes - age 25

they thought she was dead- think again bitch, she slowed her heart rate down so they couldn’t hear and everyone thought she was dead - when the alpha pack got rid of her body and Allison found it, she told her to tell the others to pretend she was dead bcs of the Alpha pack - they beat the Alpha pack but she and Boyd hid with Satomi’s pack while that went down and helped generally after. she kept going with school and bcs she dipped for a while, ended in Liam’s year and eventually became a nurse in 2017. she works with Melissa McCall and joins for family dinner a lot.

Isaac Lahey - age 25

went to France with Chris Argent but kept going with his studies at Chris’ insistence. was dating dating Scott before he had to leave with Chris but they didn’t actually break up,, it was more ‘i’ll miss you :(’. came back to Beacon Hills when Chris came to help with the deadpool business and stayed bcs of Allison and Scott 💞 his studies were mostly uninterrupted and he studied law, becoming a lawyer in 2020!! so at least one good thing came of this infernal year- he wants to specialise in family law.

Vernon Boyd III - age 26

yea no, Derek didn’t mercy kill him bcs he was fine :) de nile ain’t just a river lads he went into hiding with Satomi’s pack and came back when the Alpha pack was dealt with. went back to school and ended up in Liam’s year. he joined the air force when he was 18 and finished his rotc training stuff in 2018 and it’s pretty alright - he’s a pilot but was discharged in 2019 bcs someone started with him and bcs they were a superior, he couldn’t say shit. so now he likes to wear ‘fuck the army’ and ‘fuck the air force’ shirt. he has mad respect for the people out there but the people in charge? fuck em

Aiden Steiner - age 27

he lives bitches 😎 Ethan had a silver chain on so he plugged the wound with it - it counteracted the oni poison and the chain started melting into the would (he had mild silver poisoning but he was fine). school was normal and now he’s an engineer, living in Beacon Hills. he and Ethan left for London for a while bcs that town was crazy af. while Ethan was very happy there, he missed home so went back. he got an online ordination and learnt Japanese bcs why not

Ethan Steiner-Whittemore - age 27

got married!! whoo 🎉🎉 Aiden officiated (this is 2018 btw) and it was cute. the whole pack was there and the wedding was in London bcs as quaint as Beacon Hills is

‘i’m only planning on getting married once so this is gonna be awesome’ - Jackson Whittemore, 2017

he’s dramatic but yk Ethan was a blushing mess bcs ~life partners~ he’s soft y’all. he’s a primary school teacher in London and they’re part of the South London pack.

Jackson Steiner-Whittemore - age 25

also got married!! whoo 🎉🎉 ngl he’s lowkey a trophey husband/sugar hubby bcs he’s rich af - he does business with his dad but it’s not a big workload. he and Aiden want to adopt and yk being rich will hopefully help

Theo Raeken - age 25

ah yes, the absolute nightmare bi enby returns. (i hc him with he/they pronouns ✌🏽 as you do) so he successfully gained Scott’s trust and is part of the pack - yay! he and Allison have a sort of ‘you’re a bitch’ ‘no u’ *saves each others lives* relationship at this point - it took a while for Allison to warm up to him but he did save Liam’s butt several times so,, anywho, he’s still a werewolf-werecoyote chimera and he’s cool with it. he went to an online school and got his high school diploma - Liam then snuck him into the school and he signed the bookshelf bcs yea he didn’t graduate there but he did go there and now he’s graduated so yay. speaking of, he and Liam are dating, yea ik we been knew. they started dating in 2014 and Theo now works waiting tables at a local restaurants bcs he lives with Liam and his parents (you best bet that when they found out he was living in his car, they made him move in so he pays rent, not at their request but his). that was till 2017 and they moved out into an apartment together. Theo chips in on rent but it usually ends up being split 60:40 (Liam: Theo) so he cooks and cleans a lot,,, mainly bcs Liam can’t cook and does laundry like a maniac-

Liam Dunbar - age 24

this werepup is just as chaotic as always - he cannot be trusted with laundry bcs he doesn’t split colours from whites :) honestly it makes me wanna cry a lil bcs he can’t even fry eggs either- he has Theo to cook for him tho so that’s all good. he’s a history tutor for the high school students bcs he likes history and he knows the pain of high school- *shudder* he got an online Spanish and TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) degree and is now teaching at Beacon Hills High but yk his first year teaching is all online bcs 2020-

Mason Hewitt - age 23

he’s Emissary to the pack when they don’t have Deaton *wipes tear* he’s all grown up- he went to UCLA and majored in biophysics and minored in LGBTQ studies (graduated 2017). he lived on campus (kept the bat next to his bed lmao) and videochatted with Liam almost everyday - he would visit almost every weekend even tho it’s a 6 and half drive but hey. he got an apartment near the uni where he and Corey lived after he graduated. they’ve been engaged since 2018 (it was actually the day after the Steiner-Whittemore wedding). he’s helping work on a new drug delivery system and they moved closer to Beacon Hills (Sacramento)

Corey Bryant - age 24

he also went UCLA, studying comparative literature and LGBTQ studies, and lived on campus (for 3 years before moving in with Mason in 2017) before graduating in 2018. they’re engaged and moved to Sacramento. he’s writing a novel that will thankfully have nothing to do with their confusing ass lives

Cora Hale - age 28

lesbian queen *bows* still part of her pack in Ecuador, South America - she’s got a lady lover who I call Rosa (affectionately nicknamed Rosalita). they met when she first got there age 12 (Rosa being 13 at the time). Rosa taught her Spanish and made her feel like part of the pack - after all the Alpha pack stuff, when she went back with Derek and Peter, she didn’t realise how much she’d missed them- how much she’d missed her. Derek asks if that’s her girlfriend and she’s like ‘wha- o.o’ and Rosa just goes ‘yup - nice to finally meet you guys’. she still visits DC to see Derek and Beacon Hills to see Erica and Isaac. even tho she lives in a different continent, Peter still looks out for her, sending anonymous donations in Talia’s name to the areas surrounding her pack’s territory

Brett Talbot - 24

*singsongs* ~he did not die~ the car swerved out of the way and the pack took him to Deaton who burnt the poison out of him (it was a long and painful process but he’s fine y’all). he’s the new lacrosse coach at Devenford Prep and he and Liam have a (mostly) friendly rivalry :) he’s a single pringle not bcs of lack of dates but just bcs he hasn’t found the one yet

Lorilee Rohr - age 22

also did not die :) she finished high school (2015) and went on to studying at UC Berkeley (art practice and theatre and performance studies, major and minor), graduating in 2018. she and Brett moved once he reached age 18. she makes and sells art from home

Nolan Holloway - age 25

after proving himself, same as Theo, he was eventually accepted into the pack. he and Gabe were dating and that’s that so he did mourn him for a long while. he works with hunters on the dl, trying to stop them hunting the supernaturals - he’s flipped 23 away from the dark side by 2020. he and Liam are friends which took a while but Nolan has his back (like there was that one time someone from the lacrosse team said they weren’t gonna ‘follow some mongrel’ so he reminded them that Liam was co-captain and if they didn’t wanna follow him, they could kindly fuck off :)) he’s a simp and has a raging crush on Brett like me too bruh

~the end~ for now

34 notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 4 years

Note

Any jungkook angst with no smut? Thank you!

yes hello. ‘tis me. Finally responding to you after 31498237 months.

i rarely read full on ANGST because my weak heart cannot take it, ok. So i don’t have a lot to share and most of the fics i read are pretty short. i don’t think any of what i read are series bc omg can u imagine a full on series with NO HAPPINESS!! I WOULD D WORD!!!!!!!1 sjadflakwe but i’ve included some angsty series in the 2nd half of this compilation!

as requested, no smut. i’m sorry if i missed something and it does have smut 🙏 also this ask made me realize how many angsty fics DO have smut involved, lololol we’re all a bunch of emo hornies and tbh,,, i’m not even gonna deny that 😂 ok ok i’ll stop rambling now.

* m/n: mai notes can also be read as “my notes”. ha ha ha wow i’m so punny.

HAVE READ:

⊱ ┄ A Fallen Bookmark on A Thursday Afternoon by @cutaepatootie

summary: He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

⊱ ┄ A Mark of Betrayal by @jimlingss

summary: Forgotten as the eighth deadly sin; each time one betrays, a mark will be signed on their skin…

⊱ ┄ A Piece of the Moonlight by @jimlingss

summary: For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

⊱ ┄ Blue Orchids by @inktae

summary: You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

m/n: this is like… one of THE og bts fics and i will always promote it bc IT DESERVES TO BE READ BY EVERYONE

⊱ ┄ Delirium by @sseudanym

summary: What to feel, when it’s all gone.

⊱ ┄ Give Me Your Hands (I Will Pick the Stars for You) by mindheist (AO3)

summary: I miss you like the moon misses the sun, destined to chase you until the end of time.

m/n: this is the only mxm fic here. it’s jungkook x taehyung :) i hope it won’t deter you from reading it though! it’s an absolutely beautiful story.

⊱ ┄ In My Head by obiwrites (AO3)

summary: The one where you and your long time boyfriend aren’t on the same page

⊱ ┄ It’s Enough by @dark-muse-iris

summary: Preparing dinner reminds you of all the struggles you’ve experienced in your marriage. Your husband Jungkook, ever your anchor, tries to cheer you up with gentle words.

⊱ ┄ Mamihlapinatapai by @tayegi

summary: Mamihlapinatapai (noun): a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin.

⊱ ┄ My Beauty, My Blood by @7cypher

summary: With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.

⊱ ┄ Resentment by obiwrites (AO3)

summary: It was an ugly kind of sad. The kind that kept you up at night, that weighed heavy in your chest and made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, it made you feel like molasses—made your limbs drag and your body ache. You’d heard of the physical effects of depression—but you weren’t expecting this.

⊱ ┄ The Train of Lost Souls by @inktae

summary: The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options. You can choose to live or you can choose to move on. You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it. The choice is solely yours.

m/n: ok so this is technically a Hoseok fic since the reader is interacting with Hoseok, but Jungkook is a part of this fic and IT HURTS ME SO MUCH SO I HAD TO INCLUDE THIS OK

⊱ ┄ The Swirling Ways of Stars by @inktae

summary: Jeon Jungkook doesn’t feel like home.

⊱ ┄ Untitled by @floralseokjin

summary: He noticed you almost instantly. Like the wind blowing autumn leaves past his heels, he felt you near him. His body an instant constant buzzing as he stood inside the kitchen, back against the counter where he watched you outside. The separation of the living area and the balcony window feeling miles away regardless of how close he was to you…how close you were to him…

⊱ ┄ We Were by @gukyi

summary: Not all once upon a time’s have happily ever after’s.

⊱ ┄ Water Ripples by @inktae

summary: It may be a mistake caused by unreachable forces, but it is not a curse, like some may think. Meeting each other, being able to touch each other but being forbidden to stay close beyond the limits of the sea could be considered torture — where is the pleasure in getting a taste of something you cannot have, an ephemeral spark in the night? in getting wings that can’t make you soar, no matter how many times they flutter?

m/n: i made the mistake of rereading this when i was compiling this list and yes i am crying again. hooo booyyy.

HAVE NOT READ YET:

⊱ ┄ Below Thunder Showers by @inktae

summary: Min Yoongi leads Earth with a stern hand and a pair of cold eyes. You lead a withered space station that’s been losing hope for years, mind tired and heart torn. Jeon Jungkook is no more than a broken soldier who’s slowly losing his humanity, but his longing for the rain keeps him tied to the ground. Three paths converge again when the two worlds clash, and as precarious as they were, it does not stop you from falling in love for a second time.

⊱ ┄ Blossom by @dimpled-gukkie

summary: “Blossom, blossom, blossom. As unexperienced as I may be in the field you really didn’t think I’d only bring one weapon did you? It’s no wonder your gang has gone to shit ever since your dad died, it’s clear that you’re incompetent as well as incapable of being a good leader.” He laughs, raising the gun to point at you. You raise your own and he just smiles again before setting his weapon down. “You know what, how about we do this the old fashion way? I heard guns weren’t your specialty anyways.” Shrugging off his coat you spot the long dagger tucked into his waistband. “Cmon sweetheart, show me just how dangerous you are.”

⊱ ┄ Contradict by @drowsymochi

summary: Jungkook is a name you hear often around the crowded city of Seoul, South Korea. Jungkook is the leader of Bangtan, a gang that has acquired a worldwide audience. The gang is stationed in Seoul, creating a feeling of uneasiness on the streets. Everyone in the city has been acquainted with one of the members at some time, being that they’re always around. For the most part, they don’t harm innocent civilians unless they commit a crime that the members find worthy of punishment. That penalty can range from bankruptcy, to torture and eventually death, which makes the city wary of their words and surroundings. If only you had been as terrified as everyone else.

⊱ ┄ Downfall by @donewithjeon

summary: Your hesitation cost you dearly, and you swore never to let it happen again.

⊱ ┄ Drown For You by @callistojjk

summary: There was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. All you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

⊱ ┄ Drag Me Down to Hell by @kimvtae

summary: There’s a darkness to your city, a murderous underbelly filled with crime and deceit that you’ve sworn to avoid at all costs. But the universe has funny ways of forcing your involvement in the form of a notorious mob boss and his young daughter.

⊱ ┄ Expensive Mistakes by @honeyedhoseok

summary: Your night spent swindling at the pool table goes left when your lackluster skills are found to be false, so it’s a good thing Jungkook has some supernatural abilities to keep D and his friends from recollecting their money–but his help comes at a price.

⊱ ┄ Fierce And Delicate by @mintseesaw

summary: Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

⊱ ┄ Fallout Technical Report by @pantaemonium

summary: You knew you should not go into the darkness of night, even if your hope had run thin. The monsters were free to walk the earth, and some of them were still as human as you.

⊱ ┄ Fear in Your Eyes by @gukyi

summary: There’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

⊱ ┄ First Light by @inktae

summary: “Have you ever felt like the world is too loud sometimes?” “No. For me it’s always quiet.”

⊱ ┄ Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places by @jungtaeyoongles

summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there. AKA Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn’t work out according to his plan.

⊱ ┄ Gravity by @donewithjeon

summary: The universe works in mysterious ways. What you didn’t know was that the world would give you the best at such a young age.

⊱ ┄ I Got You On My Mind by @bangtanbombimagines

summary: In a world where soulmates can share thoughts, you never imagined that the sweet voice in your head would belong to a guy like Jungkook.

⊱ ┄ Lost Boy by @hoshikimatata

summary: You are the only girl Jungkook keeps coming back to, and you thought that made you the one to save him. But in the end, he’s the only one who can save himself.

⊱ ┄ Let Me Stay Close To You by @9uk

summary: You were finally free from the worst nightmare of your life in high school. The doors of college welcomed you with open arms, you were set on living your best life in here, away from the toxicity back at home. That shimmer of hope in restoring your life, was somehow effortlessly crushed by a tap on your shoulder. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you say we catch up for a moment?”

⊱ ┄ Left Behind by @bbfairy

summary: Every person is required to go through a series of tests to see if they’re smart enough to be a part of the upper, elite district. You and Jungkook are childhood friends. Jungkook’s dream is to live with you in the elite class, but deep down, you’ve always known that you’ll fail the exams. For ten years, you wrote letters to give him on the day of his expected departure.

⊱ ┄ Lie to Me by @hugseoks

summary: It had seemed so easy for you to move on, did you even care at all?

⊱ ┄ Pull Me Down by @starryeyedgukk

summary: “Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

⊱ ┄ Rooftop by @thelillzmonster

summary: An unrequited love burdens your fragile heart. And when an unfamiliar, isolated boy is thrown into the mix, you’re not sure whether it all turns for the better or worse.

⊱ ┄ The Burning Flame by @bangtanfanfiction

summary: You’re sent as a scout from the Academy into enemy territory, tasked with the mission to make sure their king doesn’t unleash another war on the four nations. During your quest, you get tangled up with a lone rider, as stubborn and hard as the scales of his dragon.

⊱ ┄ The Black Veil by @jungcock

summary: You never wanted to be a vampire, yet you had been 21 years old for the last 2 centuries. You never wanted a relationship either, yet you incidentally make a very human Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you, twice.

⊱ ┄ Waste It On Me by @byeoltoyuki

summary: Being a journalist, you were familiar with the concept of taking risks and pushing your limits to get the best story. But when a gangster by the name of Jungkook tries to involve himself in your quiet, safe personal life, you are forced to reconsider the limits of your comfort zone, your boundaries, your morals and even your feelings.

⊱ ┄ Why I Hate You by @floofyeol

summary: Jeon Jungkook’s only regret, is knowing her in the first place.

⊱ ┄ Watchdog by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

summary: Being kidnapped, then ‘accidentally’ eavesdropping on a lot of Intel that was specifically not for outside ears, was definitely not your way of being ‘recruited’ into the mafia world. Much less end up with a companion who didn’t seem very fond of you, but stuck guarding and watching you. A Watchdog sort of man he was, and almost entirely too suffocating.

⊱ ┄ Written on the Sky by @inktae

summary: Time is, without a doubt, merciless.

⊱ ┄ What Happened by @bangtanfanfiction

summary: You and Jungkook’s relationship was on the tip of the edge. Is there any possibility to get it back up?

#so basically just read all of inktae's fics lol #bts fic recs #jungkook angst #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #yes i wrote 'smutties'#fite me #g recs #anon #f:jjk

277 notes · View notes

sloppy-butcher · 4 years

Note

Request 2 of 2 is any killer you want meeting a sneaky survivor (later s/o bc I’m weak) who can get up from being moried but have reduced movement, repair speed and if they get hooked it’s instantly over for them (I say any because I want you to write what you like, I’ll probably request more characters for either prompts I sent tho if you’re ok with it)

okay so, with this ask i decided to do something a little different.

The idea of somehow surviving a mori is so bizarre and unlikely that it really took me a while to think about it. I mean, the whole point of a mori is to outright kill the survivor. so in order to bring this request to life i decided to set up some ground rules.

1.) it will be assumed that the survivor who can outlive a mori is one lucky bastard. Whether it is because the killer is in a rush and cannot ensure the job is done correctly or they just suck and overestimated their killing ability.

2.) It will also be assumed that in order to survive a mori, the person who gets up immediately seeks the best medical attention the Fog has to offer (i.e. They rush over to Claudette bleeding outta their asshole). They must also be near the end of a trial because once they escape all wounds will be healed and their supposed death will be null and void.

Below is a list of the mori’s that are a definite no-no and are a maybe (WARNING: i wrote these at 3AM)

Mori’s you would definitely die to:

Huntress (Axe to the face)

Bubba (*get that bitch Leatherface!* chainsaw up torso)

Hag (pulls spleen (?) out, needs some spice)

Deathslinger (speared from butthole to mouth hole)

Oni (sword through the chest and no more tongue)

Pyramid Head (huge knife through gut)

Freddy (fingers your chest)

Spirit (knife to meet you *screams in Japanese*)

Doctor (you got a brain? not anymore)

Legion [specifically Joey] (mans is determined and crazy strong. its lights out for you)

Mori’s that are a MAYBE live:

Trapper (basic slash 4 a basic bitch)

Wraith (*baby WHACK baby WHACK baby WHACK*)

Hillbilly (bruh it aint even that deep)

Nurse (lady got moldy worm fingers, dafaq that suppose to do)

Clown (steals a finger and cracks your back)

Demogorgon (again, cracks your back starting with your neck)

Myers (has no aim and could miss a vital organ)

Ghostface (again, has talent but got no direction)

Pig (cover that new mouth vagina quick then you’d be gucci)

Plague (i want her to spit in my mouth so)

Legion [rest of them bitches] (punk lil babies who probs can’t even open a pickle jar)

Pyramid Head (the mini mori where he just bonks you after being hooked/cage: vibe check failed)

Now, with this out of the way, I have chosen two killers to write about. hope they are ok <3

HeadCanons for The Wraith (Philip Ojomo) and The Plague (Adiris) with a sneaky S/O capable of surviving a mori

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

Has to do a double-take when he sees you up and walking. He’ll literally stop dead in his tracks and just watch as you stumble across the landscape, dropping all his previous activities to focus on you. You looked like a ghost.

He’d question himself for a moment. Had he actually killed you? Did he just down you and forget? No, no. Philip always remembered who he killed, their faces of fear and pain, and their cries as he slashed open their backs. He was a strong man, vicious in his attacks. There was no way he could have missed. Yet, like a living contradiction to his beliefs, you were there.

He’d stalk you, cloaked and extremely quiet, turning the invisible factor up to 120%. You wouldn’t even notice he was there. He’d follow you around, peaking from behind trees and through windows as you would hobble after teammates and sloppily repair generators. If one of the more bulky survivors were on your team they’d carry you, slinging one of your arms over their shoulders and leading you around. How selfless and thoughtful. The other, more clever survivors would hurriedly try to mend your wounds, quick hands weaving through medkits and over broken skin. However nothing they did return you to your prior vigor. You definitely carried the weight of a near-death experience. regardless, Philip felt moved by your teammates' determination to help you.

If you ended up being the last survivor in the trial, the others having been hooked or mori’d, Philip would always let you live. He’d watch you get back up from your position on the floor, blood spewing out of the wounds across your back. You’d groan and shakily get to your feet, swaying as you did so, before trudging off to start the final generators. He admired your commitment and vowed to not disturb you as you worked. But progress was slow and Philip always found himself circling you. Maybe if you were healed you could work better? He thought to himself as he quickly zoomed around the arena in search for discarded med-kits. He’d find some still clutched in the frozen hands of dead teammates and hurriedly he’d take and present them to you. Although he was too nervous to actually hand the items to you, Philip would quietly leave them on the floor for you to turn around and find. Then he would retreat back to the shadows and continue to watch you.

The Plague (Adiris)

Adiris would also do a hard double-take. She’d gasp loudly when she found you working on another generator. You could hear her mumbling ancient words under her breath, rambling, and getting more and more frantic as she approached you.

Unlike Philip, Adiris would have no hold-ups about hurting you and she would set to work chasing and quickly down you again. With one quick smack, you would be forced to the ground with the impossible tall lady standing over you. Her previous whispered had now progressed into full-blown shouts. She’d call out to the sky in a desperate and commanding tone, the Babylonian language feeling strange in your ears. With palms open and facing upwards Adiris would thrust back her head and shout out for an explanation. Were you some kind of God? Maybe even a demon or angel? Whatever you were, it freaked Adiris out. Her eyes focused solely on the dark sky, all previous engagements to the trial having been forgotten. You could hear her desperately calling out for her God, crying for a reason as to why you didn't die. After several minutes, with her eyes filling with tears, Adiris relented and lowered her head.

There was no answer. If you weren’t some type of supernatural being, and instead just some poor ordinary person, then Adiris had in fact just failed at killing a poor soul. She wasn’t stupid; she could tell that she was chosen to mindlessly hurt and kill people for her God. Her personal philosophy when it came to hunting down the survivors of the Fog, was to offer them a swift and painless exit from this world of suffering. But with you laying at her feet, wheezing with blood and vomit coating your clothing, Adiris had to realize that she had failed, not only herself but you. She hadn’t effectively killed you and instead only added to your pain.

Adiris knew that you carried that burden of her weapon and she felt it tear her up inside. She hated herself and her lackluster ability to effectively kill you. She debated whether to try to kill you again. But the thought of even attempting such an act boiled her stomach and made her sick. You watched her from your position on the floor. There was a deep sense of sadness in her eyes, her shoulders lowered and it seemed she had lost her prideful demeanor. She looked pitiful and lost, like a child having been told Father Christmas isn’t real. After a moment of watching her for signs of aggression, Adiris finally moved. She knelt down and gently placed a hand on your back. She mumbled something to you that sounded like an apology before she quickly stuck her hands underneath you. Effortlessly the tall lady picked you up bridal style and set off in search of your teammates. In the distance, you spotted Nea working on the last-gen. Adiris also noticed the girl and with long, determined strides, brought you to her. Nea went to flee at the killer's approach, but when she saw you in her arms, carried like a baby, she stood her ground. Adiris dropped you at Nea’s feet and with one final look, walked away never to be seen again for the remainder of the trial.

#a really unique request #much love #dbd headcannons #dbd the wraith #dbd the wraith x reader #dbd philip ojomo #dbd philip ojomo x reader #dbd th eplague #dbd the plague x reader #dbd adiris #dbd adiris x reader

68 notes · View notes

certifiedceraunophile · 3 years

Note

Hello! I’m your Klaroline Swap gifter👀 I am sorry it's taken me this long to reach out but I've finally gotten to it! I am excited to be writing for you and wanted to ask a few questions about your gift. Wanted to know about your all-time favorite tropes and side pairings? Any Caroline friendships you like? Any tropes or pairings you don't like? Any pet peeves with KC fic? Any smut preferences? Anything you especially want to see or any info you'd like me to know? Hope you have a great day!💖

Heyyy!! Thank you for sending me this ask, and please don't apologize, it’s all good 💖 I hope you're having a great day too! So I’ll just jump in and answer all your questions ✌🏾✨

I am so so sorry it got this long, like so long, I really tried to condense it, but I have no concept of short and concise so now I have to put this below a cut 😭🙃😭

All time favourite tropes:

[see here's the thing I dont exactly *know* what tropes are so I'm just gonna yeet a bunch of HIGHLY specific prompt-thingies that make me tingle at you and you can do w them what you wish- like take out certain parts you want to use, or base other tropes off of them anything you wish really, even if you choose to ignore all of them I won't be holding it against you dw!]

Ok so I love love the "I was just captured by the bad guys and very harshly uh demanded to sell you out, but I didnt, bc even though I might posture like you’re the scourge of the earth and would gladly see you dead, I in fact, do not want you dead and will therefore not be selling you out and will handle mild -emphasis on mild please do not hurt either of my babies too much- torture instead and oops! look at that, you just overheard this exact exchange where I stand my ground and refuse to betray you, and now you’ve gone feral over your loyalty kink and are spouting promises of never letting go of me, which honestly I cannot bring myself to be mad at."

I love love love the forced bedsharing trope which then leads to accidental cuddling, where one party [caroline] is just very very annoyed that their body sought the warmth of a cockroach fucknugget being [klaus] and the fucknugget party is just very very smug about being the other party's personal space heater, and nuzzles them and cuddles tighter and asdfghjkl I'm getting tingly just thinking about it, and like says w a husky sleepy voice “don't move” and cuddles closer. jfc please I’m a basic bitch with very basic wants.

I absolutely LOVE the "we work on opposite enemy sides, but now we have to band together to defeat one common enemy and honestly I am NOT glad that I constantly wanna throw you against a wall, and not all reasons for said wall-throwing are strictly to inflict violence on you."

I also LOVE the "fuck youre bleeding/hurt/injured and fucking hell I dont know why my hands are shaking while I attend to your wounds but god it is, and now I'm not sure exactly how deep you've furrowed into my heart and stuck yourself there like a dickheaded leech."

Now I feel like I have given you many tropes, but I also feel like i didnt in fact help you at all, bc I'm not sure these are uh tropes?? but anyway those are some highly specific...scenes?? I have a very deep bias for

[you obviously dont HAVE to write ANY of them if you dont want to]

And also if I had to give you a clear cut trope to follow, I absolutely LOVE the enemies-to tentative allies-to lovers trope, in which one party is just working really really hard to get to the lovers part, and the other is working really really hard not to get to the lovers part, but caves later on, bc really the fucker grows on you. [Featuring Klaus as the "high key besotted already pursuing Caroline"-person, and Caroline is the "I am very very annoyed w this wooing, but I am more annoyed this wooing is working"-person. And also, I like my Klaus E V I L, But really really really *soft* for Caroline.]

Also if by tropes you meant settings, Like AU's, literally anything works, I have a personal bias for Crime AU's when it comes to enemies to lovers, and Canon is the ultimate enemies to lovers AU, but honestly you can use which ever one you want, I am not entirely sure myself if I have a specific preference here, AH, Fantasy, Supernatural, Scifi, it's all good.

[I however am not extremely fond of Historical Settings]

Again you are not required to follow any of these tropes at all if you don't wish to, I just require you to have a lot of fun writing and love the beauty you write yourself first!

Side pairings:

Ok I LOVE me some Kennett [kol + bonnie] but I also LOVEEE kolenzo [Kol and Enzo], I also am extremely just *heart eyes* at Bonenzo [Bonnie + enzo], but I absolutely DIE for Kennettzo [which is OT3 of Kol Bonnie and Enzo]

Kalijah is also a-ok w me, and I feel like I dont have any other side pairings I'd like die to see I guess. If you choose not to go with these side pairings its perfectly alright.

Caroline Friendships:

Ok this I can answer without rambling like an idiot, I love love love love :

Bonnie + Caroline [like i love this so much it physically hurts me, they both deserve so so so much better]

Kol + Caroline [I will literally touch a frog, and I have a phobia of frogs, to have one full conversation w these two idiots]

Enzo + Caroline [Honestly enzoline brotp makes me wanna sob happy tears bc they are so perfect together]

Katherine + Caroline + Rebekah [bad bitch meets head bitch meets super bitch, what could possibly go wrong]

Tropes and Pairings I dont like:

NOTPS:

Kolvina, stebekah, delena, stelena, datherine, steferine, Haylijah, Marcel+Rebekah, Matt+Rebekah, Bamon, Kai+bonnie, beremy.

And I think that's about it? mostly I just hate elena stefan damon and hayley and I am not fond of them w anyone, I hate all canon Rebekah relationships, and I dont like seeing Bonnie with anyone other than enzo or kol.

Tropes:

I am totally not fond of the Kill Liz for plot reasons trope, like seriously killing Caroline's mom is not ok w me, but I am totes fine if she's like already dead as part of Caroline's backstory, just don't show me Liz dying in the story as a part of the plot.

Any form of sire-bond-y or like sire-bond adjacent or like any form of deal/bargain/agreement that gives Klaus even a tiniest bit of power over Caroline's free will and choices, is just not for me, like at all, no matter how well it's done, I can't stand it.

not fond of any form of prisoner/hostage tropes, like klaus kidnapping caroline or caroline kidnapping klaus and holding each other hostage and stuff like that.

Death as a plot point doesnt work for me? and really I'd prefer if there were no major character deaths at all.

Friends to lovers trope is not for me, childhood friends to lovers trope is definitely not for me.

I don't like any sort of redemption arc really, anything that starts with Klaus as a “bad” dude and ends with him being a relatively “good” dude is not for me.

Any form of infidelity, like ofc especially in between Klaus and Caroline is just [shudder] hard pass, but like I also hate it when Caroline or Klaus cheat on anybody at all.

Also all the tropes and like themes I'm not comfy w that I mentioned in my original Gift Request still stand.

KC Pairing Pet peeves

ok This I can answer easily bc I have like a FEW,

I hate a woobified Klaus so much, like so much, I hate all TO!Klaus characterizations but this one is the worst, absolutely not here for it, I am not here to feel sorry for this mf I want to feel really deliriously GIDDY at how evil he is and how whipped he is for Caroline, but like concentrating on Klaus's manpain is not something I really wanna read.

Caroline excusing Klaus's bullshit, or like being a push over-y “it's ok, I understand why you did it” person is not for me, bc she never was one to begin w, she never did rationalize or justify Klaus's behaviour, she always held him accountable and told him what a difficult son of a bitch he is every chance she got.

I don't like arcs where Caroline is Klaus's redemption? like Caroline bringing Klaus into the "light" or whatever I am not here for it, like at all, I like Klaus staying evil while being endlessly in love with Caroline, and Caroline being able to be w a man she knows is a selfish evil ruthless grade A asshole, but will literally also choke himself to death for Caroline, cuz the man is whipped as fuck.

I also absolutely am not a fan of arcs where like Caroline remains "pure" or whatever, like that's just not for me, I am totally fine, actually MORE than fine for ruthless Caroline who is willing to do deplorable shit to get to her goal and protect her people, like Caroline being extremely almost evilly pragmatic just gives me a boner, and pretty sure gives Klaus one too. Klaus "protecting" Caroline's so called innocence is uh off putting for me personally. And her remaining this pure white light princess of good and Klaus being attracted to the *good* in her is um, nope.

Smutty Preferences

Honestly I’m very easy when it comes to smut [and u totally dont have to write me any if you dont want to]

I do not like:

non con/dub con, anal sex, Strict and/or elaborate Bdsm themes, [light undertones are ok], drunk sex, sex that’s basically infidellity [like caroline/klaus cheating on someone else w each other] , gagging, choking, Extremely rough emotionless sex, sex as a bargain, or as a part of a bargain.

Smut preferences:

I like reading oral sex, especially Klaus going down on Caroline

light bondage like being tied up [either Klaus/Caroline I enjoy both]

Sex toys are really really good, like love reading Klaus using one on Caroline, or Caroline using one on herself and Klaus watching

I do have a special love for praise kink, especially Klaus being really just in awe of Caroline during the do and expressing it uninhibitedly

Dirty Talk is GREAT

I enjoy both Klaus and Caroline in a dominant role, but I usually love it when both of them share the dominance equally, I’m just not into “Yes master” and “Yes mistress” level of dominance. I guess the word I’m looking for is Vanilla dominance lmao.

Bloodplay is also great if they're vampires.

And Klaus and Caroline leaving marks on each other is *swoon*.

I love reading possessive!klaus and possessive!caroline in equal measure so really your choice.

Hot and Dirty sex with a an undercurrent of emotion and devotion, want and need and all that nice stuff is great!

But I do have a list of words I’m not really a big fan of coming across when I’m reading smut:

Any word for vagina that’s not wetness, or folds or lips, is squicky, cunt is not a problem, pussy however is squick.

Clit is clit; little nub, bundle of nerves, all of that makes the med student in me really anxious lmao.

Any word for Cock that’s not cock is squick.

Juices, cream, semen are squicky, I just prefer come or release.

Ok these are seemingly innocent words but moist, engorged, gaping, drooling, sopping are not words I like seeing in context of smut.

So yeah that’s about it, I know hi, it’s been what, eleventy bajillion years since the beginning of this ask, I am so so so sorry for being this difficult, and really, LIKE SERIOUSLY, except for my squicks you are more than welcome to just skip past everything else, since I’m not really that hard to please, as long as the no-no’s are not there in what I read and the dynamic I asked for is even just vaguely followed I will be really really really happy and really I just want you to have fun writing whatever you feel like cooking up, I’m superrrr excited to see your interpretation of my request!!!

[Also Please please send me another ask clarifying you got my answer and also telling me I haven't frightened you with this long ass rambling list of okay’s and no-no’s bc honestly I am just anxiously debating if I should answer this ask like this or yeet half of it and vaguely rewrite the answer.]

Hope you have a great day lovely!! I am once again sorry for being this difficult. ✨💖🤝🏾

#kc sweet swap #anon ask

6 notes · View notes

slinglouis · 4 years

Text

august fic rec!

hi friends! these are my favorite fics that i read during july while avoiding studying for my mcat & i think you should all read this month! if you have a fic you want me to check out this month please let me know, i’m always looking for more!

black with autumn rain by whimsicule - 93k

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

Oh Glory by alivingfire - 21k

Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.”

“Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame."

Harry Styles is Team Great Britain's newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he's assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry's childhood crush.

Howls Like a Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by @indiaalphawhiskey - 17k

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

And down the long and silent street by whimsicule - 86k

The year is 1881 and if you’re alone in this world you might as well be dead, because starving dogs have no mercy.

Or: Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

Run Like the Devil by benzos - 138k

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s something.

Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy?

“I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

No Place Without You by @fackinglouis - 19k

Harry's in love with life and he's in love with the world.

Louis' in love with Harry and he doesn't think there's any way he can possibly compete.

A Wanderlust AU in which Harry doesn't have a permanent home and stays with Louis when he visits NYC.

Given a Chance by fabby - 170k

Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.

The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?

Wrong.

What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?

(or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)

these bountiful silences by tommoandbambi - 123k

they live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don't want to live that way.

we can only look behind by @hereforlou - 70k

His mum said there was no getting an idea out of his head once it was stuck in there and Harry thought she was right. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose - his ideas were just really sticky.

(Or, the one where Harry fixates through the years.)

Don’t Want Shelter by kingsofeverything - 77k

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families' old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

somewhere in between the lightning by jassy117, nauticalleeds, shiningdistractionwrites - 100k

As Louis took another bite, he thought back to how he had once believed that the hardest thing about being on Love Island would be Liam handling his social media. He had been wrong. It was Harry Styles, peeking over at Louis as he forked a pancake into his mouth, and gauging his reaction. It was having to quench the swelling of his heart, which felt simultaneously like hope and the breaking of a thousand pieces.r

A summer gone wrong (or very right) when, under Liam’s persuasion, Louis finds himself drunkenly applying for Love Island, and getting accepted. Oh, well. A summer spent on an island paradise couldn’t be all that bad, right?

Imagine his surprise when Louis arrives in sunny Majorca to find that his first love and ex-boyfriend, Harry, is another contestant, about to capture the hearts of everyone in the villa. Most normal people don’t have to face their ex on an otherwise straight TV show. Most normal people don’t fall for their ex again in front of the whole nation, either. Too bad this whole situation isn’t normal.

special mention bc an epilogue was added and this is one of my fav fics of all time: Collision by @tequiladimples (itjustkindahappened) - 225k

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#please send me fic recs im almost out and now i have FREE TIME #dms are open always!#please boost!#fic rec

13 notes · View notes

hollywoodhangar · 4 years

Text

5 things!

Tagged by: @silvcrreaper! thank you, dear! :’D this is a really cute meme! I’ll probably use it again in the future bc of that tbh. I’d like to do a lotta characters. Tagging: @mettatoniic / @corviudex, @wcrldlyadventures, @tcthinecwnself, @scwewywcbbit, @wabbitseezun, @couragelinked, @contractualsarcasm, @heedingcalls, @bloominghands, @fairestfall, @blackstardiopside / @hellhogged, & you!

doing this for red’s hardcore over-a-year fixation seriously this woman owns my ass at this point hhggh this thing got way too long!!

CLAUDIA P.

5 THINGS YOU’LL FIND ON HER PERSON.

Her mother's broken pearl necklace. It's very near and dear to her, she's held onto it like a security blanket as well as a trinket for luck & protection ever since Lord Phantomhive whisked her away to the estate. She keeps them safely tucked away in one of her hidden skirt pockets! Those of supernatural origin that are able to detect magical objects can sense there is a Divine blessing on it; it’ll never be lost to Claudia, and those who mean her ill-intent will have their hands burn when they grab at it - almost like they stuck their hand in flames. It’s a precious thing that Máire [ her mother ] has long since used in her prayers specifically to Brigid ever since she was twelve, so it’s instilled with her blessing!

Her axe. Even when she’s retired, the Countess keeps her silver axe on her person just the same; tucked away in its renewed sheathe that’s hidden under a flap on the back of her dress [ fun headcanon: while undertaker takes his sotoba up from the top of his collar, she pulls her axe down from below ]. Divine magic also touches this weapon; a blessing from the Morrígan in which the blade is kept heinously sharp so long as she gets some sip her blood tribute, absorbing the splatter and gore through the axe’s silver surface and leaving it pristine. Should too long go by without it having a taste of blood it will begin to dull rapidly for the amount of years its gone untouched, but fortunately the Phantomhives never seem to run short of assassins, hitmen and abductors. Her Divine continues to be pleased.

An emerald poison ring. Silver, classy and adorned with the head of a wolf opening its maw to hold a shiny emerald. No one'd expect such a beautiful big gem hides such a heinous poison beneath! It looks pretty neat when she pops it open and the poison pours out of the wolf’s mouth.

[ Enchanted ] Skeleton key. A simple-looking golden key with hidden runes that activate when inserted into magical locks its made for, but it functions like a normal key as well. This key will open absolutely any door in the Phantomhive manor [ unless Sebastian’s room has the same thing going on! ] as well as the invisible locks she has guarding her forest altar. This is also the only thing that will open all doors leading into her bedroom [ the hallway and the balcony ] as those locks are spellbound to react to only the key itself. Vincent’s always tried to pick his way in but could never quite achieve it! I like to think he inherited his mother’s mischievously nosy curiosity.

Her black choker with a deep green brooch embedded in its middle. It hides the scar paved along her throat from the attempted assassination. Don’t want anyone seeing that, especially not family. v_v

5 THINGS YOU’LL FIND IN HER ROOM.

Her bed, of course! Mahogany framed. It’s enormous, as to be expected for a Countess. It’s extremely soft, easy to sink into and piled with many lace-ended pillows. Heavy, wool-knitted beige blankets lay over the very top, plush to the touch and covering the white and green sheets beneath it. Deep green curtains with leaf embroidery are tied to the bed posts with dark brown rope, and close all around the bed when Claudia turns in for the night -- except for the curtains at the foot. Those stay partially open to absorb the heat from the fireplace. As for the back of the bed, she built it herself! It has an enormous, full-length mirror installed into its wooden frame and a long, smooth surface below for convenience. It has two lamps at both ends that are within reach.

Lovely mannequins. Rested next to the balcony are two simple manniquens. One is the bearer of her Brigid cloak, the hood pulled up and draped over to obsfuscate the face. Its arms are stretched forwards, hands splayed up with the ceremonial cloth and ropes used for Claudia’s handfasting ceremony; the pearls that were wrapped around all that hanging from its neck. Opposite of that is the other manniquen. Covered with a deep, dark duster, a peasant blouse, tight black pants and thigh-high boots give off a familiar visage of the Countess during her Watchdog days. Around its waist hangs a very intricate rich brown leather belt with lots of slots in it, weaponized chatelaines and satchels with golden clasps - and a golden wolf head as the buckle in front center.

Secret compartments. Many secret locked compartments in the walls she installed herself [ ^ that can only be opened by aforementioned skeleton key, or a very determined and powerful supernatural force ], hidden behind landscape portraits and animal print wall tapestries. She keeps various things in them: Tonics & Poisons. These are very rare breeds of both, being highly efficient in what they’re made for specifically. There’s vials of strange-looking gnarled roots and various colored liquids stored in here as well, along with herbs (??) hanging from the top. Inheritance. The late Lord Phantomhive left Claudia a fortune, most of which she sent to charity, but kept her own sum for emergencies sake. But that is not all he left her; there’s a small pile of letters, some opened, some remaining closed with different seals. There’s also an envelope in here for Claudia specifically, opened and re-sealed. What’s inside is information concerning safe passage to a number of locations and a list of names. Near the very end, the Lord gave Claudia a way out if she ever felt the need to flee from the Phantomhive title; she’s the only blood left. He would not hold it against her to forfeit the Watchdog title, he’d be dead - he has no reason to care for anything at that point. It’s a very bittersweet gift Claudia’s gone back and forth more than once and plans to hand down to the Undertaker “if I go before he does”. She trusts him to hold onto it and give to any Phantomhive who starts feeling pushed to the brink. Altars. A small altar for each of her Goddesses exists in the walls, in twin compartments side-by-side, their doors marked with the carvings of an anvil and a raven. Brigid’s altar is warm, decorated with handmade trinkets and rolled up drawings. The Morrígan’s is dark, positively dark and dimly lit with this very small icy blue lantern that hangs from the top, and the rest of it is decorated with fans fastened from raven feathers and odd white-crimson candles -- that contain her own blood. Memonto Mori. Death has been embraced around Claudia for so much of her life, so she’s dedicated her own reminder of that in a “.. yet I survived” way. Mementos from the Famine in the form of mothbitten fabric from the nightgown she wore that entire time and a lock of hair that had fallen out, from the first attempt on her life by a kidnapper in the form of the rusting gun he had and the bottled flesh & muscle she tore from his throat that earned her the title “Wolf of Winchester” among the Aristocrats of Evil, from the nigh successful assassination in the form of the bloodied gown fabric and pressed white roses that wear dried crimson on their petals. There is nothing for the Phantomhive Fire. This rebuilt manor is a jarring memento mori of its own now.

Cherry wood bookcases. It is stacked with books of worldwide mythology, folklore, natural remedies, strange leatherbacks, and lots of journals Claudia’s written personally over the years. There’s pictures of loved ones wrapped in oval-shaped, polished wooden frames, a lot of old wooden toys she made for her progeny that they’ve grown out of, a black onyx hand with all fingers lined with rings she made herself and holding an ornate athame. Currently, “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus” sits with a long brown & white feather serving as a bookmarker.

Urns. Three very precious porcelain urns that are specifically customized to fit the lives they belonged to: Vincent, Rachel, and Claudia’s seven hounds. While she drew the designs for Vincent and her hounds, she let Rachel’s parents decide how they wanted their daughter’s urn handled. She passed the drawings to the Undertaker and he made them to perfection. They rest on the previously mentioned bookshelf, side-by-side in a very gorgeous center display, with fresh white roses, rosemary, gladiolus & lilies from the garden surrounding them and small lanterns constantly providing a low, gentle golden light. There’s candles that have been melted to their hilts and others that are brand new.

5 THINGS THAT MAKE HER HAPPY.

DOGS.

Mythology. Mythology and folklore have always been incredibly fascinating to her! They can easily eat hours away as she delves herself into learning more and more about them and re-reading the ones she already knows.

Family. I've said it once, I've said it twice, Claudia's a woman who adores to be surrounded by family. Her attempts to convince the Midfords to join with the Phantomhive household have gone shot down by both her grandson and her daughter. One day she’ll prevail. One day. She won’t but she can dream of having a full house again, let her dream.

The countryside. Honestly, the fact they live here instead of in the city was something of an immense comfort to Claudia because it’s a little reminscent of Donegal. She regularly takes Gelert for a walk and finds a nice green pasture to just sit in for a while and enjoy the wind. It brings such a huge wash of calm and relief and what she turns to when feeling absolutely stressed, anxious or angry. Her natural dopamine hit!

Sweets. The Countess has a bad sweet tooth like her grandson and loves to eat sweet things, including things of her own baking and creating! Wave any delectable sugary sweet before her face and you have her attention - not her compliance, but her attention. [ 1v1 phantomhive discourse is continuously stealing the other’s treats. she doesn’t even recall who started it but it is an on-going War. ]

5 THINGS SHE'S CURRENTLY INTO.

Infinite woodworking! She has several projects going on at the moment, one being a boat and another being a marionette bitter rabbit she’s eventually going to get around to painting. Both gifts!

Foraging. Sure she can easily send the servants to buy this stuff from the market, but she likes to retrieve them herself. There’s a lot of berries and edible/medicinal plants in season right now and she’s pretty happy about that. :) Mulberries galore.

Reading. Very good exercise for her brain as she’s getting a little more forgetful in her old age, so keeping it busy with things like this strengthens her mentally. At the moment she’s not only reading Frankenstein, but she’s also reading about Japan mythology! That, and about strange monsters & creatures encountered at sea, actual accounts taken down by the author of the book who interviewed many-a sailor.

Hunting. Not only does it give her a grand excuse to get out of the manor, but she needs to keep her archery sharp and Gelert in shape.

Summer Games. Speaking of which, she has a title to defend! Sporting events are beginning to ramp up and the Phantomhive name continues to hold first place in the Archery branch, much to the chagrin of many who try their aim & speed against the Countess And Lose. Also, the events are always a bunch of fun to take part in - she’s dragging along anyone available.

5 THINGS THINGS ON HER TO-DO LIST.

Finish the on-going "Misfortune's Way" Funtom board game with Ciel. [ Ciel: 9. Claudia: 9. Neck-to-neck. Who Will Win? ]

Continue work on the boat she's created for the Midfords. She needs to finish carving their family crest into the right side of it and hollow out the rest of the bow. So much work to be done! But four months of blood, sweat and tears are going to pay off. :)

Fix that TERRIBLY painful floorboard her foot keeps hitting. It's been on this list for about a week now. She keeps forgetting or gets sidetracked! She’s getting a bruise. :( [ have tanaka do it? no no, she lets that poor man rest now. have sebastian do it? not a chance. "Are ya daft!? I ain't about to have that damned vulture creepin' about my own private quarters." ]

Pack up Tanaka, cook some food [ avoid bard. he always offers, she always declines after he set a strawberry cobbler she requested on fire right before her own eyes, and then proceeded to catch a portion of the kitchen on fire. she was so stunned she didn’t even notice Sebastian come in and bat out the flames LMAO. ], make some tea and head out with Gelert to her favorite spot to chill in the countryside and soak up the rays of Summer. She’s been so much colder than normal lately and needs to a b s o r b s u n. It’s Summer! She shouldn’t be freezing this much! [ although it is funny to put her hand on the back of people’s necks when they complain about the heat and watch them flip ]

Commune with the Goddesses at her forest altar. Bring the landscape painting she’s done for Brigid, bring the bloodied clothes of a fallen enemy for The Morrígan.

#♈ [ CLAUDIA; HEADCANON. ] ━ 『 the wolf of winchester. 』#♈ [ BLOG; OOC. ] ━ 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!#tagged.#(( these little SOL memes are so good I love 'em. thank you tick. :D ))#long post

9 notes · View notes