#beth is the only one here who canonically graduated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers @serenityhayato ( WRITTEN FOR @negans-lucille-tblr‘s SPN FIC EXCHANGE )

Warnings: Death of a friend, Canonical Gore (werewolf attack), Cursing, Smut (rough Sam, light choking, hand job, oral if you squint- male receiving, unprotected sex), Probably sex at inappropriate times if I’m being honest

Word Count: 7500 (I am so sorry I didn’t realize until I went to post this that it had a 3k word limit… this was definitely my bad but I’ve spent a week writing this and really didn’t want to scrap the whole thing to fit the word limit. I didn’t realize how carried away I got in the set up)

A/N: I have never written anything for Sam before, much less smut, but I wanted to give it a shot. I’m sorry if it’s totally OOC. I was trying to go off the knowledge that he’s canonically pretty rough in bed. I also couldn’t imagine him being super talkative and vocal. I don’t know, I’m just kinda stressed about this one. Also, this was probably definitely an inappropriate time for them to get down and dirty but my brain was glitching on any other idea so I hope you don’t hate it! Happy holidays!

________________

Sam Winchester.

The name alone made your blood boil.

You’d met the man for the first time, just before your hunting career began and quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you could ever truly forgive him for what he’d done.

–

It was the first semester of your senior year of college, a proud graduate-to-be of your dream university. Life had been great since you got to college. Old toxic relationships with people back home had practically disappeared, you’d formed a group of the best people you’d ever met, and your academics had been going strong.

Life was going great until people started disappearing only to turn up days later, slaughtered and nearly drained of blood. Anxiety was running high all across the board. The university even turned all night classes to online courses to prevent the likelihood of someone being abducted at night. Your best friend had started acting weird. She constantly shook as if she’d drank a pot of coffee for breakfast and was always looking over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Beth,” You tried to reassure her, “I know everyone is on edge but we’re doing everything we can to stay safe. Just make sure to bring your wooden stake in case the vampire attacks.” You chuckled weakly, knowing your nerve-fueled joke was definitely inappropriate considering that four people had actually died from whoever was out there but humor was a good coping mechanism.

Beth didn’t appreciate the joke at all and had run out of your apartment, disappearing. When she hadn’t returned by seven that night, you got worried enough to go look for her. Grabbing every self defense weapon you had, which was pepper spray, a pocket knife, and a key chain that looked cute but was actually a form of brass knuckles with sharp extrusions on it, you left your apartment to look for Beth, surprisingly well strapped.

You started with her favorite spots: a hipster coffee shop on Main Street, Taco Bell, that one bench in the botanical gardens that overlooked the pond, and the fourth floor of the library. She was nowhere to be seen. You were on the verge of calling the police or those FBI agents that had been questioning people on campus, asking some weird questions from what people had told you. You’d never spoken with them but they did say to come to them with information if anyone had any. You didn’t but they’d be a good start to finding Beth. Where to find them though? Figuring it would be best to just start with campus police, you walked across campus, looking over your shoulder every few seconds. The hair on your neck stood on end and it was impossible to feel safe. Campus police was located on the opposite end of campus and the busses stopped running early on weekdays so walking was your only choice.

“No, please!” You heard a man whimper from somewhere in the trees to your side. You stopped in your tracks and your heart dropped to your stomach. Should you help? Should you run? Should you stay here and call 911?

But then you heard Beth’s voice, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I can’t control it anymore!” And then screams. There were deafening screams of pain and you decided to say screw it. You ran down to try and protect your friend, even though you knew it was probably the last thing you’d ever do. This was stupid. What could you even do? Who knew what was down there attacking them?

When you saw them though, you stopped, skidding to a halt on the leaf covered hill. Beth was knelt over a man’s body, his backpack thrown to the side and ripped open. Though you were quiet, she must have heard you because her attention was whipped to you in an instant. Her face and shirt were covered in blood. It was obvious she’d been eating him or something along those lines.

You felt like a deer in headlights, utterly frozen in terror, denial, and confusion. “I can’t control myself anymore…” she admitted, a regretful sob hiccuping from her lips.

“Why?” You breathed out the question, silent tears falling. Whether they were for fear for your life or just the knowledge that someone you cared about could do something so horrible, you didn’t know.

Before she could answer, there was a loud bang and she fell dead. You flinched and covered your head, crouching instinctively from the gunshot. Your best friend slumped over dead and, despite the fact that you’d just watched her brutally murder some poor stranger, you couldn’t help but call out in shock and horror, “Beth!"

Two men came running down the hill, one of them to Beth’s body and the other to you. "She’s dead. Werewolf, just like we thought.” The man with short hair announced in a deep gruff voice.

“Are you alright?” The one who had come up to asked. He looked a little younger than the other, with longer hair too.

You were shaking, “What the hell just happened?"

"I know this is hard to understand but your friend over there… wasn’t human.” When he said it, you almost scoffed. Of course she was human. What the hell else would she be? Monsters weren’t real.

“You’re kidding me…” You said almost angrily. Then something hit you, “Wait, you’re those FBI detectives.”

The one with short hair walked up to you and the man talking to you. The taller one spoke again, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean. We aren’t really FBI. We hunt monsters. Monsters like your friend over there."

"She wasn’t a monster.” You said, a single tear finally falling down your cheek. Glancing over, you saw her lying dead on the ground, “Not the Beth I knew."

"Well then you didn’t know the real Beth because one look at that thing will tell you she ain’t human.” Dean told you bluntly.

Sam noticed the confusion, fear, and anger in your eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen this. It was never easy to tell people they were close to the truth and he preferred to just stay out of it completely but that wasn’t an option this time. “Look, I know this is difficult to understand. But Beth was a werewolf. And yes, they are real. Most monsters are. We’ve been tracking her for weeks."

"W-was she always like this?” Your mind whirled as you struggled to comprehend, truly comprehend, what was happening.

Sam shook his head, “She was turned by a werewolf back in her hometown a few weeks ago. We tracked her from a pack we hunted down over there.” You remembered when she came back, she had a big bandage on her arm. When you asked about it, she brushed it off, saying she ate it racing her brother on longboards. It was probably the bite.

“The fact that she made it as long as she did without killing is honestly impressive. I’ve seen some turn and right away they’re slaughtering people.” Dean chimed in. You hoped their words would console you but they only served to make you angrier.

“So you’re telling me that she was attacked by a werewolf and then turned into one? She was probably terrified! She kept saying how sorry she was! You could have helped her! But you just killed her!” You screamed at them angrily.

“Your friend murdered a bunch of people. Once they turn, there’s no saving them. They’re killers.” Dean said with such conviction that it almost scared you.

Sam put a hand out to Dean, signaling for him to shut up, “There’s only one known way to stop the transformation but it has a really low success rate, is extremely painful, and needs to be administered almost right after the bite. I’m sorry.” He reached a hand out to comfort you but you dodged it, shrugging off his gesture and beginning to walk away.

“I need to go."

"Wait!” Sam called out behind you and you stopped.

“What?!” You snapped, spinning around to stare at him. It was rare that anyone dwarfed Sam Winchester but since you’d been walking up the small hill, you towered over him. The way you glared down at him made him jump.

His words faltered before he finally spoke, “You can’t tell anyone about this. If people knew monsters existed-"

"I’ll decide how I deal with the fact that my apparently werewolf best friend was just murdered by some dudes who think they’re Ghostbusters."

—

Sam saddled up to the bar next to you and promptly ordered two beers. You kept your eyes straight ahead, not sure of what you’d say to him if you made eye contact. You could feel him side eyeing you curiously. Finally, he looked over, "I’m sorry if this is strange but you look so familiar. Have we met?"

You swiveled in the chair to face him, "It’s been a while but yeah. We’ve met. Remember that werewolf at (your college) about a year ago."

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… I knew you looked familiar.” He didn’t sound excited like people usually did when they saw old friends because he knew you weren’t old friends. In fact, he assumed you felt quite the opposite and he understood why. “I never did catch your name."

"Y/N.” You informed shortly, taking a sip of your preferred poison.

Sam rocked back on his heels, “Well, uh, what are you doing out here?” It was Middletown, Arkansas, not exactly a happening place, so seeing you of all people here seemed almost too good to be a coincidence.

“I get the feeling the same reason you are.” You answered, eyebrows rising to infer a hunt.

It didn’t take long for Sam to figure what you meant, “Wait, you’re hunting now? Why?"

"After you guys left, I was devastated. You’d murdered my best friend,” you watched him sink into himself a little when you said that but continued seamlessly, “I was left alone with the sudden knowledge that monsters existed. I decided one day that I wanted to protect people like Beth. You know, the ones that innocently stumble into dangerous situations and have their lives ruined by a bite or scratch."

The tall Winchester brother was about to say something but Dean called from a few tables over, "Sammy!” He called out, pointing to a booth on the side wall. The bar was fairly busy for it being such a small town, with people playing pool or eating fries with their gin and tonics. Music played in the background and, though it wasn’t a song you knew off the top of your head, it sounded like every other dive bar in towns like this.

Sam held up a finger to his brother, begging pardon for just a second, before looking back over to you, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything. I really am. I know it doesn’t help but I’ve lost friends who were turned as well so I know how you feel.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens, right?” Your voice sounded anything but forgiving but it also wasn’t hostile either. It was more matter-of-fact. As much as you had hated Sam Winchester for what he had taken from you, if there was one thing you had learned over these last few months it was that shit really does happen. As hard as you tried, you really couldn’t save them all.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder to see Dean wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at him, clearly thinking you were someone Sam was trying to pick up for the night. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to you, “If we’re both here for the vamp nest, then do you maybe want to come work with us?"

You thought for a moment. In all honesty, you had been under the impression that it was just one vampire wreaking havoc on the small town. Call it a novice mistake, because in all actuality, you really were still a relatively new hunter. One vampire you could take, a whole nest would be trickier. "Fine. But just so we don’t die."

You hopped off the barstool, glass of liquid fire in your hand, as you followed Sam back to the booth Dean was sitting at. At first, the older brother looked confused as to why his brother would bring his company for the night to meet him but didn’t say anything about it when you sat down beside Sam across the table from Dean.

"This is Y/N. She’s gonna help us work the case.” Sam announced, not leaving much room for objection.

Dean’s eyes studied you, “You look familiar. You’re a hunter?” He asked, trying to piece together why he recognized you.

You shrugged, “Am now but you know me from ‘bout a year ago when you guys killed my best friend. She was bit by a werewolf. Remember, that college girl?"

Realization dawned on his face, "Oh… yeah. Sorry about that but she was, y'know, a werewolf. So-” he shrugged insensitively, earning him a hard kick in the shin from Sam under the table. Dean looked back with that expression of 'what?’ That little kids had when they got in trouble.

“Well, anyways, she’s hunting now and is in town for the nest. I figured working together would be our best option.” Sam tried to be a peaceful moderator but it was hard when he knew how much you loathed him. It was frustrating, really, that you wouldn’t just see that Beth had become a monster. He understood that losing friends was hard but she had been killing innocent people.

“What’s the plan, then? We want to pick them off one by one so there’s less to fight at once or-” you began before Dean interrupted.

He shook his head, chewing some fries he’d shoved in his mouth while he spoke, “Nuh-uh. Gank the whole nest at once. Get 'em all in one place and torch it."

"Okay, well where’s the nest then?” You questioned.

Sam shrugged, “We don’t know yet. That’s what we gotta figure out."

"I have a file of police reports and eye witnesses on my laptop back at my hotel. I was just gonna grab a map of the town while I was out tonight to try and see if I could draw a location from the attacks.” You hadn’t planned on actually bringing work to do at the bar. You’d mostly come to see if you could overhear any drunken tales of vampires around town but it had been pretty dead as far as crazy stories so far.

Something behind you caught Dean’s attention and he leaned in close to you and Sam, “Hey, I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.” He said with a smirk and a wink.

As his brother stood, Sam threw his hand up in exasperation, “Where are you going?"

"Hopefully for a homerun.” Dean winked with a cocky smirk before walking away. You turned around to follow Dean with your gaze and immediately saw his target sitting at the bar, a beautiful African American woman with bouncing curls and a sultry smile on her berry stained lips. Honestly, you couldn’t’ say you blamed the older Winchester one bit.

Sam let out a huff of disappointment and rolled his eyes at his brother’s priorities. “Guess it’s just you and me then…” He groaned, not at the prospect of having to spend time with you but just at his brother’s laziness. Dean always managed to find an excuse out of the research part.

“Great.” You responded, unamused. Of the two brothers, Sam was the one you had an issue with- the trigger man on the night that changed your life. “Well, we should get a start on all this so we can get out of here sooner. If you didn’t get any food, you wanna head back to my room?”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded and you became a bumbling mess, “Wait- I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant-”

Sam bit back a chuckle and raised his hand up off the table, motioning for you to stop, “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He laughed, long hair shining in the dim light as he moved to turn away from you with closed eyes while he chuckled. It really was a shame that he had done what he’d done to you. An opportunity with such a handsome man just had to be killed by his lack of compassion all those months ago.

You slid out of the booth, “Alright, well, I guess I’ll drive. Looks like Dean will be needing your car.” You smirked knowingly as you glanced over at Dean who had the woman he’d had eyes on in stitches over something he’d said.

Sam followed your lead, “Sounds good. I don’t think I want to be in the car after whatever they do anyways.”

Your black 2007 Honda Pilot was clean enough to not be totally embarrassed about but then you saw Sam’s little snort, “A Honda Pilot?”

“We can’t all have cool muscle cars or old trucks, jackass. I can go all terrain with decent gas mileage. Besides, I’d rather sleep in the back of this than your gas guzzler. She’s surprisingly spacious.” You defended your vehicle rather seriously, running your hand across the dash soothingly. The funny thing was that you’d really never been all too attached to the car until Sam insinuated insulting remarks about it.

“She?” He quipped with a raised brow, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slammed the door shut and started the engine, “Yes, she. Dahlia.”

Sam put his hands up, resigning his teasing assault on your car. The drive to the motel was short. You never really liked travelling too far from where you were staying when you didn’t have to. Hunting on your own, especially as a newbie, made you anxious. When you pulled into the parking lot, Sam looked out the window, “You’re staying here too?”

You looked over at him, “You guys are staying here?”

He nodded and patted his pockets, looking for the room key but quickly finding the gesture useless, “Room 24. You?”

“34. You must be right under me.” You said, again visibly cringing at your poor word choice, “You know what I mean.”

Sam tried his hardest not to smile, “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He assured. You pulled into a space right in front of room 24 and parked. Sam followed you up to your room, which was relatively untouched still. You’d only arrived that morning so, aside from your bag of belongings that was thrown onto the single queen bed, the motel room was still as you had found it.

Sam closed the door behind the two of you and you grabbed your laptop from the bag. So many rooms you’d stayed in had little tables or desks but you quickly noticed that this one was lacking. As Sam awkwardly shuffled up to the bed where you sat casually, you noticed that there wasn’t really enough room for the two of you to work on the ground either.

With a huff, you scooted over, “You can sit on the bed. Just no shoes on the covers.” You had toed your own shoes off on the floor before tucking your legs underneath you. Sam sat beside you, careful to keep a respectful distance between your bodies, while you opened the lid of your laptop and began typing away.

“Alright, this is what I have so far.” You began.

Time became lost on you and Sam as midnight rolled around and you were still discussing the facts of the case. “I’m still confused as to why the hell you think Lenora’s body turning up on Seventh St and Jason’s body turning up on Hargrove Ave means the nest is on Willow Dr.” You were getting annoyed at Sam. In all honesty, you were annoyed at yourself for not seeing what he saw because as much as you hated to admit it, he was probably right. He and his brother hadn’t earned their reputations for being wrong. But, geez, why did it have to be Sam Winchester?

“Because it’s not so much Jason’s body. The old lady, Meredith, made a phone call to her nephew, saying she was at Willow Dr, just before she attacked.” Sam pointed at the map of the town with one finger while leaning his weight back on the bed. His other hand reached back to prop himself up but you quickly flinched away when you felt his rough fingers blindly land on your own.

Sam’s eyes shot wide when you felt your sudden movement, “‘M sorry.” He said, moving his hand closer to his body.

The contact made your heart race in a way that made you simultaneously crave his touch again and be angry at yourself for feeling that way. You cursed yourself, scooting an inch or so away from Sam’s body. Clearly, your body was just blindly reacting after being touch starved for so long. You hadn’t so much as kissed anyone since before you became a hunter. It had to just be a primal reaction, nothing more.

“I’ll just take your word for it.” You grumbled, returning to the original matter at hand. You hated feeling like you were just letting him think he was right about everything but you were getting tired. “So what’s the plan? Gank ‘em all tomorrow night?”

Sam shrugged, “We’d have to talk to Dean. Most of them will probably be hiding in the nest in the morning to avoid the sun so at least they’d be in one place. But night gives us more time to plan. Who knows when he’ll be back.”

“Why don’t we just lure them all out into the sun and watch them burn?” You suggested, thinking it was a brilliant idea. You actually had yet to deal with vamps. This would be your first case hunting them and you were actually a little excited to learn something new.

The Winchester shook his head, “The sun doesn’t kill them. Think less Interview With a Vampire and more… bad sunburn.” He explained, “Have you never hunted one before?”

Again, you got defensive, “I’m still new at this. I mostly stick to werewolves and ghosts.” Admitting to yourself you needed to learn more was one thing. Admitting it to Sam was another.

He looked over at the gun on your nightstand, “Is that what you were gonna use?” He questioned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m not dumb. I have some wooden stakes in the car.”

It took everything in Sam’s power to not laugh at you. At you felt like the wrong way to put it. He wasn’t laughing at you. He just found your determination to be a good hunter cute in an endearing way, even if you got your information from cheesy TV shows.

“What?” You asked, almost angrily, seeing the look of amusement on his face.

Sam shook his head, “Decapitation is the main way to kill vampires. Unless you have special bullets or weapons, cutting off the heads is the easiest way to go.”

Your jaw clenched and you turned away from him, upset that he of all people had to explain something that was apparently Hunter 101. You didn’t mind learning. Not knowing things typically was just an opportunity to pick something new up but this incident just felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“You know what? It looks like you and Dean have things handled here. I’m gonna go. Divide and conquer. I’ll just go find somewhere with monsters that I know about so you don’t have to babysit me.” You stood up aggressively, voice surprisingly calm and just almost convincing enough to make him think you weren’t being petty, which of course you were. You didn’t mean to be acting childish. It was just that running into Sam and Dean had been enough to handle. Having what was still left for you to learn shoved in your face was just the cherry on top.

Sam stood up after you, exasperated, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re still new to this and everyone has to start somewhere. Hell, Dean and I are still learning new stuff all the time.”

“It’s not that. This was just a bad idea. I thought I could handle working with you but I can’t.” You shook your head, turning around just to reach around Sam’s body and grab the jacket that you’d discarded before shrugging it back over your shoulders. You started shoving the few things you’d unpacked- a gun, your laptop, and some files- back into your blue duffel bag.

Sam had always considered himself fairly level-headed and capable of dealing with difficult people but something in him snapped when he saw you packing up to leave over something so stupid, “Fine, go ahead and leave. We’ll deal with the nest without you. But you know what? Nobody asked you to get involved in hunting. You can’t just go run off every time someone dies.”

You scoffed, “I got into hunting to prevent people from dying. I got into hunting to try and save them from being killed by people like you!”

“You’re acting like we just kill everyone we come across. We kill monsters, Y/N. We save people by killing them. We prevent more people from getting turned into monsters by killing them. And you know what? Beth became a monster.” Sam’s voice raised to almost a yell as he gestured widely and aggressively.

“Beth was scared and you murdered her!” You shouted angrily, tears welling in your eyes.

“Beth was killing people!” Sam yelled at you before taking a moment to breathe, continuing more calmly, “Can’t you see that? Most of these monsters we hunt were just poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s not a lot we can do for people like that. But we can keep them from hurting others. If we had known there was a werewolf back in Beth’s hometown, we could have killed them before they could turn her and she would still be here. Would you be angry if we’d have killed the werewolf that turned her? Would you still be calling me a murderer?”

You chewed your tongue in your mouth hard, trying to use the physical pain to distract you from the urge to cry out of frustration. Why did he have to make sense? Why did he have to confirm every rational thought you’d ever had concerning the situation? You wanted to hate Sam Winchester for what he’d done but you knew deep down that it was never that simple. You knew he had a point but you didn’t want to admit it.

Sam saw the way your jaw clenched angrily, the way your throat moved as you swallowed hard, and the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears. He took a step closer to you and reached a gentle hand out towards your arm, “I am sorry that you lost your best friend.”

For some reason, the gentle sincerity of his voice is what broke you. Tears fell down your face in hot streams as you cried. They weren’t tears for Beth’s death. Those had long been drained from you, many nights spent mourning what you’d lost. These tears were for the final snap of your animosity for the Winchester. You had spent so long hating him. You wanted to hate him, needed to hate him, but how the hell were you supposed to do that when he looked you in the eye and truly meant it when he said he was sorry.

There was a twinge of pain in his own green eyes that made you realize that he truly had experienced the same sort of heartache that you did and that he was sincerely apologetic for being the cause of it. But it was also clear that, while he was sorry for hurting you, he was not sorry for what he had done. Part of the cause for your tears was that you were angry with yourself for not being able to hate him, despite knowing that he didn’t regret killing Beth. You were crying because he was right. She had become a monster and, in his shoes, you probably would have done the same thing. You would have shot your best friend.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice shaky as you did.

Sam used his light grip on your arm to pull you in slowly for a hug, his large arms enveloping you in a surprisingly comforting embrace. You buried your face into his flannel, tears staining the fabric. One of his large hands gently cradled the base of your head while his other rubbed up and down your shaking back.

He didn’t know what to say anymore. Your response had honestly surprised him. The girl that he was used to receiving nothing but animosity from was now shaking in his arms and apologizing. “It’s okay,” was all Sam could think to mutter out.

He held you like that for a while, though you weren’t sure exactly how long it was. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes and you would be none the wiser but all you knew was that you didn’t want Sam to let you go and, for once, you didn’t hate yourself for it. The tears had dried, leaving only slightly stiff feeling skin in their place. Your breath had long since stopped leaving your lungs in wracked hiccups. Your arms had moved from resting on his broad chest to being loosely wrapped around his waist at some point.

You pulled back first, lifting your head from his chest but keeping your hands on his body still. Sam lifted his cheek off your head, where it had been residing in a surprisingly soft show of affection, and he gazed down at you. You were amazed by how completely you had let your rage blind you. Before tonight, Sam was nothing more than scum to you but now, looking into his eyes after forgiving him, you realized that he was easily one of the most beautiful men you’d ever laid your eyes on.

Even with the tears now gone, Sam still saw the dim light of the cheap motel lamp sparkled against the color of your irises and damn if it wasn’t beautiful. He slid his hand up from your shoulder to gently brush away a few thin strands of hair that had stuck to your cheek while it was pressed against his chest- a feeling he found himself missing. His breath caught in his throat when you reached up to cover his hand with your smaller one, pressing it gently to stay on your cheek.

Your eyes slid closed and you gently nuzzled against his hand before opening your eyes again, reaching around his neck, and oh so slowly pulling him down while you perched on your tiptoes. There was more than enough time for Sam to pull away but he didn’t. In fact, much to your surprise, he closed the gap between you faster. His lips pressed to yours, rougher than you anticipated, but enjoyably nonetheless.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs and you struggled to breathe against his lips but refused to pull away. You bit his lip gently while you kissed, slipping your tongue against his when he gave in to what you were craving.

Sam reached down under your ass and lifted you without you even needing to jump. A squeal of surprise was swallowed by his lips as he walked you both to the bed. Once his legs bumped the old mattress, he sat down, lowering you to land on his lap. Your knees fell to either side of his hips where you gave an experimental rotation of your hips against his clothed erection. He let out a strangle exhalation at the friction, his fingers digging into your ass and pulling you harder onto him. The fabric of his rough jeans rubbed delicious against your clothed core, a wetness beginning to form in your panties.

Slowly, you pressed your weight forward and Sam allowed you to push him onto his back. You laid on top of him, lips moving from his lips down his neck but he didn’t let you get far. Sam placed a supportive hand on the small of your back and managed to flip you both over so he was on top and before you knew it, he was devouring you. Lips kissed hot trails across your face and down your neck, across the tops of your breasts that were ever so slightly revealed by your v-neck t-shirt.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair and he let out a breathy groan when you tugged on the brunette locks, pulling him closer to you. Sam crawled down your body, his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to run across your burning skin beneath. He felt like heaven and hell all in one, burning with fiery lust and yet so sweet and comforting despite the fervor with which he moved.

You pushed yourself up, pushing Sam to sit back on his knees while you did, all without breaking the kiss, to shrug off your jacket. Your shirt was next, falling onto the floor with your jacket before Sam pushed you backwards again, your back hitting the mattress. His large hand started low your belly, running straight up between the valley of your breasts and then raking downwards, pulling the cups of your bra down and grazing your nipples deliciously with his calloused fingers.

It had been so long since you’d been touched like this that even the small act had your back arching into his body. “Sam…” You breathed out, eyes sliding closed at the sensation. Every flick against your sensitive buds sent a shock straight to your core that had you hooking your leg around his hip, pulling him closer into you. Your hands ran up and down his large biceps before moving to pull the sleeves of his flannel down his arms. He only pulled away from you long enough to throw the restricting clothing on the ground, his shirt joining short after.

Your mouth started physically salivating at the sight of the man before you, sculpted by the gods. Defined pectorals and rippling abs covered his torso, adorned with a symbol that looked like a pentagram inside of a sun- a symbol you were unfamiliar with. Sam didn’t give you much time to marvel though because he was back to kissing a line down your body, the light stubble of his beard tickling the sensitive skin of your neck and chest. He stopped to revel in your breasts, wiggling his hands under your body to expertly unclasp your bra and shimmy it off you. The second they were revealed to him, his tongue was dragging across the supple sick and his teeth were lightly nibbling at the sensitive buds.

“Oh my gosh-” You let out in a breathy giggle. Sam switched breasts, giving the other equal attention. Your fingernails raked lightly over his shoulders and across his chest and you felt Sam shiver at the touch. His lips trailed lower and lower until they found the waistline of your jeans. With a quick flick of his fingers, the button was popped and the denim material was dragged down your legs, taking your socks with them as they were pulled over your ankles. He kissed his way back up your legs, from ankle until he slowly inched closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

His scruff scraped along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you bit your lip at the sensation, unsure if you were trying to hold back a giggle from the ticklish feeling or a moan from the shocks it sent to your core. Sam chuckled to himself when he saw the wet patch of cloth over your clothed heat. He’d barely touched you and you were already dripping for him.

He had a wicked idea though. He got closer and closer to your sex, the smell intoxicating, and gripped your thighs tightly, possibly leaving bruises. Just when his lips were about to land on your core, he moved to the left, kissing your hip bones instead and back up your belly.

Annoyed by the teasing, you sat up, pulling Sam up gently by the hair to be face to face with you. Your ass was a few inches from the edge of the bed, toes just touching the ground, when you pushed Sam back just enough to be able to reach his pants. You hooked your fingers into the belt loops on either side of his pelvis and pulled him close to you. His forehead pressed flush against yours, “Are you gonna keep being a tease or are you gonna fuck me already, Winchester?”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He made quick work of his remaining clothing and hovered over you like a predator about to move in for the kill. “You want me to just fuck you already?” He mimicked, voice low and testing. His green eyes bore into your own orbs with a challenge that you refused to back down from.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” You challenged, standing up and sliding your underwear down your legs, all while keeping unyielding eye contact with Sam. Once they left your form with a small flick of your toes, a dark smirk krept up on his face.

“Turn around.” He demanded and, while you were inwardly more than happy to comply, you didn’t want him to think he had you quite that easy.

You rolled your eyes as you did, an sinful smirk playing on your lips, “Yes, sir.” You chimed sarcastically.

Before you knew it, you were bent over at the waist, face and chest pressed into the mattress by Sam’s nearly crushing body. His hand snaked around your front, picking up some of your slickness on his fingers before circling your clit while he growled in your ear, “Don’t know what the attitude’s about. You’re the one who asked to get fucked.”

Your knees quivered at his filthy words while his fingers worked your clit slowly and painfully. His rock hard erection rubbed along your ass, teasing your entrance every now and again as he rocked his hips against your body. He stood up and removed his hand from your clit. Your hips moved back, trying desperately to chase his fleeting touch. Sam groaned when your body slid over his cock, skin burning against his own. After a few experimental tugs at his own member, he positioned himself at your entrance, giving you a few moments to back out if that was what you’d wanted. Backing out was so far from what you wanted though. You wanted - nay, needed - him inside of you and you needed him now. You were convinced you’d combust if he made you wait any longer.

His hands landed on your hips to help guide a slow thrust forward. His length gradually entered you, the searing stretch to accommodate him making your muscles contract around him. Sam hisses out a sound of pleasure, “You’re so tight.”

His first few thrusts were slow, each time managing to grind impossibly deeper into you. “Fuck, Sam.” Your fingers wound tightly in the sheets with each thrust of his hips and your eyes screwed shut as your breaths came out almost as hisses through grit teeth.

Sam used his leverage on your hips to move your body in time with his thrusts. Each motion sent your body into the mattress, the bed shaking as he pounded into you. You let out little squeaks of pleasure every now and again but Sam wanted to hear more out of the girl who’d had nothing to say to him but spiteful things for so long.

A large hand came to clasp around your throat, not tight enough to choke you but enough to guide you up. You pressed your body up to your feet sloppily on your hands but standing proved to be a difficult task with Sam still moving relentlessly into you. Your thighs were shaking, barely able to support your weight, as this new angle allowed for Sam to hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl. His hand stayed around your throat, tightening along the sides of your neck when he lost himself in the way you felt around him- warm and soft. You were grateful that he was letting your head lull back against his shoulder otherwise you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stay upright.

Sam’s free hand first sloppily groped around the front of your chest until it found one of your breasts, kneading it roughly. The rough skin of his fingers grazed your nipples yet again, only adding to the pleasure you felt below. The knot was tightening and it was tightening fast.

“Please-” You managed to gasp out, not because of the choking (his grip wasn’t that tight) but because the electricity in the room seemed to have stolen your voice. Sam’s hand moved from your nipples down to your clit where he rubbed fast tight circles. “Oh my gosh, yes!” You whined, reaching up overhead to tangle your fingers in his hair. You forced his mouth down to meet yours and the pressure in your core snapped. Your moans and cries of pleasure were swallowed by Sam’s lips and he could have swallowed a thousand more.

He worked you through your orgasm until your body went limp in his arms. Slowly, he came to a stop before pulling out and quickly working himself in his hands. After catching your breath though, you turned back to Sam, placed your hands on his shoulders, and used them to spin the two of you around and push him back onto the bed. His long legs hung over the edge and you settled yourself between his knees, gently grasping his member, still slick with your wetness, and worked him with your hand.

Sam lied back on the white duvet, head thrown back in bliss at your touch. Your hand felt so much better than his own as it worked up and down his shaft before coming up to circle around the tip. He was rock hard and ready to burst at any given moment. When you leaned forward to like a long stripe along the underside of his cock, he was done for. A few more pumps and Sam fell apart in your hand, painting your hand and his stomach with his seed. “Shit!” The muscles of his abs contracted mesmerizingly as the waves of his high rolled over him.

Your hand slowed as his climax came to an end, his member softening in your hand. You wiped the mess he’d made on your hand on your breasts and stomach, knowing it would be easier to keep those parts of you off the covers than your hand. With a heavy sigh of crashing relief, your body fell onto the mattress beside Sam and you both stared at the ceiling in a fucked out post-coital haze.

“So, does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked after a few moments, surprising you with the genuine tone behind the semi-joking question.

You stared up at the chipping popcorn ceiling, “I didn’t for like two seconds but now I do again just because those were the first words out of your mouth.” Your voice was steady, unwavering, and Sam cringed inwardly, avoiding eye contact entirely. That is, until you sighed and continued, “But, I guess, if you wanted to take me out for a drink sometime there’s a slim chance I wouldn’t object.” This time, there was a teasing smile on your face when you turned your head to look at Sam.

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #SPN #supernatural #Sam Winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #jared padalecki #jared padalecki smut #jared padalecki imagine

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

12. Long Distance

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x17; Hell House

Word Count: 7,182

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, sisterly antics

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Let me know what you think! Make sure to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia anxiously watched the printer in Beth and Taylor's study, her lips quirking into a smile as the professional cursive was inked onto the expensive paper that Beth insist she get for her diploma. She had finally graduated from Stanford and, although she didn't get to attend graduation, she was very proud of herself. Her double major in Religion and Linguistics had been received simply because she was too meticulous and stubborn to let her education go waste.

But now that education was over and she couldn't lie and say she wasn't happy about it. Sixteen years in school was a long time—even though she went two years less than other people she graduated with—and she was glad that part of her life was over. She just wished that her mom and Levi were still here to witness this. Still, she knew they were watching up in Heaven and that was the best she was going to get.

Once the printer spit out her diploma, she carefully set it on Beth's desk so the ink could dry without any smudges. She was just taking a seat in the desk chair where her open laptop was sitting so she could continue working on the case she found for Sam and Dean down in Texas when her cellphone rang.

She wasn't surprised that it was Dean; he had been calling her every couple of hours to check up on her. He wasn't happy that she didn't want to hit the road just yet after Levi's death but he understood and was supportive anyway. He just made sure she knew that he and Sam would check up on her and the rest of the Petersen family. That was sweet and everything and Julia appreciated how supportive the Winchester brothers were being but sometimes there was such a thing as too many calls. She couldn't believe that Dean accused her of talking too much.

Beth and Abby thought it was the cutest thing ever when she'd have to leave the room to talk to Sam and Dean—though it was mostly Dean as she and Sam communicated through a text thread—and not return for a half-hour. Beth and Abby weren't the ones who had to assure a very worried Dean every couple of minutes that they were safe and feeling a little bit better. Usually Julia was the mother-hen but, apparently, in her absence, Dean took up the title.

Julia sighed and flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Dean."

"Yeah, I know," Julia rolled her eyes, glad that he couldn't see the obvious look on her face. "What's up?"

"Well, Sam just woke up with a spoon in his mouth," Dean chuckled, sounding satisfied with himself. "and I took a picture to send to you."

"Yeah, it's real funny, Dean," Sam grumbled.

Julia shook her head in amusement; Sam and Dean's prank wars were always a hit with Dean, even if Sam didn't enjoy them as much as his older brother.

"Where are you guys?"

"A few hours outside of Richardson," Dean answered her. "Give me the low down on this case you found."

"Okay," Julia pressed the space button on her laptop, waking it up, and clicked on the folder of information she collected. "About two months ago, a group of kids went poking around a local haunted house."

"Haunted by what?" Sam wondered.

"A misogynistic spirit, I guess. Like we need any more of those in the world," she hummed in disapproval; Sam chuckled in agreement. "Anyway, the legend goes that it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters."

"Okay, so what happened with this group of kids?" Dean said, getting her back on track.

"They saw a dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"The body was gone by the time the cops got there," Julia clicked on the police report in the file. "The police think that the kids were playing a joke on them."

"Maybe the cops were right," Sam suggested.

"They could be but I've read some of the first-hand accounts from the kids involved," Julia sighed. "They seemed pretty sincere about the whole thing."

Dean sounded skeptical when he spoke next. "And where did you read these accounts, Junior?"

Julia took a beat, glad that he couldn't see the flush rising in her face. "I might have surfed through some local paranormal websites."

"Mmhm," she could hear Dean's disapproval even though he hummed. "and what's it called?"

Julia sighed as she read the website from the file, "Hell hounds lair dot-com," she heard Sam laugh. "Hey, it could be legit!"

"Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the ass, Julia," Dean sighed.

"Hey, you wanted a case, I delivered," Julia defended herself. "If it's nothing, that's fine, but it doesn't hurt to check it out."

"Especially since we let Dad and Luke take off," Sam backed up Julia.

Julia frowned, still bitter about that. She wasn't mad at Dean and Sam by any means. No, she was angry with her dad. He didn't come when Julia was dying or when Levi actually died but he was fine following John Winchester to Chicago just to see the failed trap the girl who killed Levi set up for them.

It wasn't like his daughters were only a half-hour away, mourning the loss of their older brother or anything. It wasn't like his only son was killed.

"Fine," Dean gave in when he heard Julia's silence. He had been the one to tell her that they saw Luke with their dad and it was heartbreaking to see the expression on her face. He hoped he'd never let her down like Luke did. "We'll check it out. How have you been doing, shortcake?"

"I'm fine," Julia twisted her lips. "I got my diploma today."

"Wait, are you serious?" Sam exclaimed. "That's great, J! Congratulations!"

"I'm proud of you, Julia," Dean added sincerely.

"Thanks, guys," Julia's chest swelled with love. She was so glad that Sam and Dean Winchester were in her life.

"Send me a picture."

"I will," she agreed to Sam's request. "Well, I'll let you go—"

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped her from hanging up. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Dean..."

"I mean, you can talk to us."

Julia quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't do chick-flick moments?"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well..." he changed the subject. "How many times have you watched Dirty Dancing since we left?"

Julia hesitated; Dirty Dancing was her go-to movie to watch whenever she was sad. It was her mother's favorite movie and Julia grew up watching it a lot. She absolutely adored Patrick Swayze, the dancing, the music, and the love story that made up the film. It made her happier.

"Jules?"

"I've watched it every night, okay?" she confessed. "Leave me alone, I'm delicate."

"All right, all right," Dean gave in; Julia could tell that he was worried about her and that was sweet but watching that movie was her coping mechanism and it hadn't let her down so far. "We'll talk later, shortcake. Stay safe."

"I will," she promised. "You guys be safe, too. Love you."

"Love ya, too, J," Sam called. "Bye."

"Bye."

Julia closed her phone and set it down on the desk beside her laptop. She pulled up her internet browser and started doing more research for the case, hoping that any information she pulled would help the brothers out.

Dean and Sam walked into the record shop, looking around for the guy that the witnesses said sent them to the house where they saw the dead girl. As they passed by the first table full of records, a worker came out from the back with his hands full of more merchandise to put away.

"Gentlemen, can I help you with anything?" he asked them.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked him politely.

"I am," the worker confirmed as he put a record in place.

"Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News," Dean told him. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

"No way," Craig's face lit up. "I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Ah, good for you, Morrison," Dean chuckled as he began to look through the crate of records in front of him. He completely missed the confused look that Craig gave him but Sam noticed and cleared his throat.

"Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one," Sam smiled at Craig, wishing that Julia was here to get the information out of him—she was much better with the guys than he was.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asked.

Dean nodded, looking up from the records. "That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig said avoidantly.

"Why don't you tell us the story."

"Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer named Mordechai Murdoch used to live in this house with his six daughters," Craig told them after a moment of hesitation. "It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, and he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "How?"

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death, so he attacked them," Craig stated. "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung them up, one after the other. And, when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

Dean pressed his lips together; the story Craig was telling sounded just like that. A story. His words were something out of a dramatic novel, not a true story. And what parent would just kill their kids instead of trying to do whatever it took to make sure they lived?

"Where'd you hear all of this?" he asked Craig.

"My cousin, Dana, told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do," Sam assumed.

"I don't know what the hell to think, man," Craig shrugged. "You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again."

Dean shared a look with Sam and then nodded at Craig. "Thanks."

A half-hour later, Sam and Dean were walking through mud to get to the so-called Hell House. It was creepy looking, they had to admit, but not anything less creepy than the things they saw everyday during their job. It was just a little run-down house, not much else.

"I can't say I blame the kid," Sam sighed, his eyes searching the grounds around the house.

"Yeah," Dean agreed as they got closer to the house. "so much for curb appeal."

Sam took a look around the perimeter of the house while Dean pulled out the EMF meter. It whirled like it usually did when there was anything unusual around but the way it started up as soon as he pressed it on, made him think that something was off.

He tapped the device, frustrated, as Sam came back over to him.

"You got something?"

"Yeah, the EMF's no good," Dean looked around, the powerlines above the house catching his eye.

"Why?"

Dean nodded at the power lines. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

Sam sighed heavily. "Yeah, that'd do it."

"Come on, let's go."

They entered the house, finding that it was unlocked in its abandoned state. They started in the front room and then moved onto the living room where a fireplace lined with various candles was. The walls were covered in spray paint, a bunch of different symbols that didn't really even go together scattered randomly around the room.

Dean whistled sarcastically. "Looks like old man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger in his time."

"And after his time, too," Sam muttered, eyeing a symbol of an encircled cross. "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of Sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Dean gave Sam a long took, wrinkling his nose. "How do you know that?"

"I listen to Julia when she talks about this kind of stuff," Sam said pointedly, knowing that Dean checked out whenever something that required a little brain power was brought up.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he walked across the room, looking at more of the symbols on the walls. He stopped in front of one that looked like an upside-down question mark with two little lines on either side. It looked kind of familiar. "Hey, what about this one? Have you seen this one before?"

Sam studied the symbol and took a picture of it with his phone. "No."

"I have...Somewhere," he couldn't place it, though.

Sam cautiously reached toward the symbol, rubbing it with his fingertips. "It's paint," he studied the slight stain that it left. "Seems pretty fresh, too."

Dean sighed and turned away from the symbol. "I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind but the cops may be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe—"

A loud noise cut off Sam's agreement. The brothers instantly went on alert and followed the noise to a door that led to another room. They stood on either side of it; when Sam nodded, Dean whipped open the door and stepped into the room.

He was immediately attacked by bright beams of lights right in his eyes and two groans of horror. When the flashlights flitted away, he could see that there were two guys in front of them, around his age with camera gear.

The brunette groaned. "Oh, cut. It's just a couple of humans," he told his companion, who shut the camera off. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean countered.

"Uh, we belong here," the ginger guy with the camera drawled. "We're professionals."

"Professional what?"

"Paranormal investigators," the ginger reached into his pocket and pulled out a card to give to them. "Here you go, take a look at that, boys."

Dean took the card and read it. He groaned in realization, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler? Hellhoundslair.com," Sam read over his shoulder. "You guys run that website?"

Ed, who was the ginger with the camera, nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans," Dean said sarcastically as he passed Ed and Harry to check out more of the kitchen.

"And we know who you guys are, too," Ed said.

Dean and Sam turned to face him sharply. "Oh, yeah?"

"Amateurs," as soon as the words were out of Ed's mouth, Dean pursed his lips and turned away once again. "looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep," the other guy, Harry, agreed. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here."

"Yeah?" Dean noticed a gadget that they must have brought with them on the counter; he picked it up to inspect it. "What do you have so far?"

"Harry, why don't you tell them about EMF?" Ed prompted his friend.

Harry hesitated. "Well..."

"EMF?" Sam played dumb and Dean saw that he was trying not to smile.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry told him as though he was an expert. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector," he pulled a EMF reader out of his canvas vest. "Like this bad boy right here."

He turned on the EMF, causing it to whirl angrily. "Woah, woah," he exchanged an excited look with Ed while Dean smirked at Sam. "It's two-point-eight MG."

"Two-point-eight," Ed repeated excitedly. "It's hot in here."

Dean whistled mockingly while Sam tried not to laugh. "Wow."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue. "So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before?"

"Once," Ed looked back to where Dean was standing by the counters. "We were, uh, we were investigation this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself," Harry added needlessly.

"Well, we didn't actually see it, we heard it," Ed corrected himself but grew serious again. "And something like that...it, uh, it changes you."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Dean crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to Sam. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, you should."

Dean nodded at his brother and then the door. "Sam."

Sam followed him out of the kitchen and they left the house, not wanting to deal with the kids who wanted to enter the big leagues.

Julia kneaded the sugar cookie dough on the counter in front of her, humming along to whatever Disney song that the radio that was playing throughout the kitchen. Lizzie was on her side of the island, cutting out cookies with a heart-shaped cookie cutter while Beth and Abby were on the other side, decorating some of the finished cookies with colorful icing.

Once that song was finished, a familiar one started, making her smile.

"Oh, I love this song!" Abby exclaimed while concentrating on the flower cookie she was creating. "Let's get down to business to defeat the Huns!"

"Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?" Beth joined in.

Julia sang next. "You're the saddest bunch I ever met but you can bet before we're through..."

"Mister, I'll make a man out of you!" Lizzie finished loudly, making Julia, Beth, and Abby laugh.

They continued singing along to the best song that Mulan produced while making cookies. When Lizzie was finished with the rest of the heart batch, Julia slid the tray into the oven. Once she set the timer, she gave Lizzie the last batch of dough, allowing her to cut out some dinosaurs.

"I'm done with the dinosaurs, Momma!" Lizzie announced once the dough was gone.

"Good job, cutie," Beth smiled. "Why don't you go wash your hands?"

"Okay!" Lizzie climbed off the stool she was standing on and ran out of the kitchen to the nearest bathroom.

"Use soap!" Beth called after her; once she was sure her daughter couldn't overhear her, she turned to Julia. "So..."

Julia pursed her lips, knowing what was coming. Since Dean and Sam left four days before, Beth had been waiting to talk to her about something. She had that look in her eyes where she wanted girl talk and it also occurred every time Dean called her. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Julia sighed and started wiping the excess flour from the counter. "So what?"

Beth smiled coyly and Abby shook her head impatiently. "She wants to know about you and Dean."

"What about me and Dean?"

There was no her and Dean, no matter how much Julia wanted that. She had moments recently when she and Dean spoke—especially when Sam wasn't joining the conversations—where she thought Dean might have the same romantic feelings that she had but she wasn't sure. Dean cared about his family and he considered her and the rest of the Petersen family his family. It wasn't like he was pining after her the same way she was pining after him.

"Oh, stop deflecting, Julia Ruth," Beth scolded her. "There's something going on with you and Dean and I—" Abby cleared her throat and Beth corrected herself, "—we want to know."

Julia scoffed and threw her washcloth into the sink. "There is nothing going on. Trust me."

Beth and Abby exchanged skeptical looks. "But you want there to be, don't you?" Beth guessed; she gasped loudly when she saw Julia scratch her cheek. "Oh, my God, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"You scratched your cheek, you liar," Abby pointed out with a laugh. Julia scowled at her. "We're sisters, Jules. Sisters talk about this stuff."

"I've never talked to you about my boyfriends before," Julia protested.

"That's because by the time you had an actual boyfriend you were at Stanford," Beth reminded her. "and you did use to talk to me about boys. Remember that guy you liked when you were in high school?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," Julia groaned; Abby and Beth gave her expectant looks. "Fine, I like Dean. Happy?"

"Extremely," Abby smirked. "He sucked you back in, huh? How old were you when your crush on him finally went away?"

Julia blushed. "Fourteen."

Abby snorted in amusement. "Yeah, now I remember."

Julia sent her a glare while Beth slapped her arm. "Abby, stop," she scolded her before turning back to Julia. "Ignore her, Jules. It were cute."

"A fourteen-year-old crushing on a guy who was twenty? Yeah right," Julia scoffed. "And that's the problem, isn't it? He's almost seven years older than me. He doesn't see me as anything but a little sister."

Abby calmed her laughter. "Jules, Dean doesn't look at you like a sister," she told her baby sister. "He looks at me and Beth as sisters. He looks at you like you're sex on legs."

It was Beth's turn to giggle as Julia's cheeks darkened further and she ducked her head.

"And Sam says that he always checks you out," Abby added.

Julia looked up sharply. "He did?" Abby nodded. "Since when do you talk to Sam?"

"Since he grew up to be a hottie with a body."

Julia rolled her eyes so heavily that it hurt. "No one actually says that, Ab."

"Since when were we talking about me?" Abby protested as Beth laughed again. "my point it that Dean wants to fuck you."

"Okay, the five-year-old is going to be back any second so let's not use that language," Beth smothered her laughter as they heard the faucet cut off in the bathroom. "But, seriously, Julia, he likes you."

"What we're going from sex to feelings now?" Julia asked incredulously. "Sex, I get. I'm hot and Dean loves sex but feelings? Are we talking about the same Dean Winchesters, here?"

"I wanna talk about Uncle Dean!" Lizzie chirped as she ran back into the kitchen. She climbed back onto her stool and looked eagerly at her mom and aunts. "Are you talking about the crush he has on Auntie Jules?"

Julia gaped at her while Abby pointed enthusiastically. "See? Lizzie sees it too."

"That's because Beth's poisoning her mind."

"No," Lizzie protested innocently. "I heard Uncle Sammy and Auntie Abby talking about it."

"Well, I'm so glad that my love life is so interesting to you guys," Julia huffed with warm cheeks. She glanced at the oven, wishing the timer for the cookies would go off so they could change the subject.

"Look," Beth sighed. "Dean calls you multiple times a day, every day just to see how you're doing. Do you think he does that to anyone else who isn't Sam?"

"He's checking up on me."

"Don't give us that sh—crap," Abby shook her head, correcting herself before she could cuss in front of Lizzie. "You're scared that you'll put yourself out there and get rejected."

"Because it's Dean!" Julia exclaimed, frustrated. "Dean, who doesn't do relationships. So what if I want to protect myself? That's good."

"It's good to protect yourself," Beth agreed and grabbed Julia's clenched fists. "but you and Dean...you should see each other. You look at him when he's not looking, he looks at you when you're not looking. You move even an inch and he's shifting toward you. The way I see it, is this isn't a passing fancy."

"You're together every day, you fight along side each other, you protect one another," Abby continued. "You trust each other and that's rare in our profession, Jules. Even I can see that you guys have something special."

Julia wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. It was nice hearing her sisters say these things but she couldn't tell Dean about her less than platonic feelings for him. He was too important to her and she didn't want to lose him, even if it meant she had to get over her feelings. Dean didn't do relationships and she had tried the one-night stand thing and it didn't go well for her. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.

As if the universe was disagreeing with her, her phone rang from the counter by the fridge. Lizzie eagerly climbed off her stool again and raced toward the phone, flipping it open.

"Hi, this is Lizzie!" she chirped before gasping excitedly. "Uncle Dean, we were just talking about you!"

"Lizzie!" Julia lunged toward her niece, ignoring her flour-covered hands to grab the phone from her. She pressed it against her ear. "Uh, hey, Dean."

"Hi there, shortcake," Dean's voice was coy. "Heard that you girls were talking about me. Are there gonna be pillow fights next because, if you want, you could—"

"Okay," Julia hurried interrupted him, waving frantically at her sisters as they laughed at the mortified expression on her face. "We were, um, we're making cookies actually, so...yeah."

"And I just so happen to come up in the conversation?" she could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

"Uh, yeah, because," she walked out of the kitchen and into the bathroom next door, shutting the door firmly behind her. "I was telling Lizzie that you liked pie instead of cookies."

Dean perked up. "You guys are making pie?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Julia agreed even though they hadn't really planned on it. "So, what's going on down there?"

"Eh, we got some more information," Dean sighed, becoming serious again. "Some kid told us that a guy named Mordechai Murdoch killed his six daughters during the Depression but what Sam found didn't quite match up."

Julia frowned. "Well, what did he find?"

"That the guy's name was actually Martin and he had two sons instead of six daughters," Dean informed her. "There's nothing to say he ever killed anyone."

"Huh," Julia wrinkled her nose. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I talked to the police and there's no missing persons, either," Dean paused for a second. "Jules, we dug like you wanted but we don't think there's anything here."

"Well, that's good, then," Julia said. "No spirit, no dead people, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, on your way back, you can stop in Houston," she suggested. "I, um, I got that NASA tour for Levi, remember?"

"Jules, we can't—"

"Yeah, you can," Julia insisted. "I don't want it to go to waste and you love that kind of stuff, Dean. You and Sam deserve some fun once in a while, you know?"

Dean was quiet for a few seconds. "All right. We'll check it out."

"Good," she smiled. "I'll email Sam the information about the tour and hotel."

"Thanks, shortcake," Dean's voice cheered up a little. "I'll call you later when we head out, okay?"

"Okay, talk later. Bye, Dean."

"Bye."

Julia snapped the phone shut and sighed, pressing it to her chest. She was glad that she got to the phone before Lizzie could spill on what they were really talking about. Dean was already insufferable when he knew they were talking about him but if he knew that they were talking about feelings and sex and all that, his ego wouldn't be able to fit in the Hancock building.

She slipped her flour-covered phone into her apron pocket and quickly washed her hands before heading back to the kitchen.

Before Sam and Dean could even leave town, they got a call from the detective Dean spoke with the day before. The sun was still setting when he called, telling them to get to the Hell House as soon as possible. When they arrived on scene, a body bag was being carted to the coroner's van. The detective informed them that a girl had hung herself in the house, which sounded just like the Mordechai story went.

They went back to the Hell House around midnight and dodged the cops when those nerds, Ed and Harry showed up. Mordechai ended up attacking with an ax and was immune to rock salt, which led them to more research.

Dean sat on his bed, drawing that familiar symbol on the notepad that the motel provided. "What the hell is this symbol? It's bugging the hell out of me," he looked up at Sam, who was researching at the table. "This whole fucking job is bugging me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam said distractedly, focusing on his laptop.

"All right, well, that explains why he went after you but why me?"

"Hilarious," Sam looked away from the screen to scowl at him. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah."

"What's up with that?" Sam shook his head. "And the ax, too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again?"

Dean nodded. "This dick keeps changing."

"Exactly. I'm telling you, the way the story goes..." Sam typed in Ed and Harry's website and pressed enter, waiting as it loaded. His eyes widened when he saw a new article about the Hell House. "Wait a minute."

Dean looked up from his notepad. "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site," Sam informed him. "Listen to this: They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now, he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

Dean sat up as he stared at the symbol he had drawn, finally recognizing it.

"Where the hell is this going?"

"I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started," Dean rolled off his bed. "Come on, we gotta go to the record store."

They entered the record store not long after, spotting Craig at the cash register.

"Hey, Craig," Dean called to him over the loud rock music playing through the store. "Remember us?"

Craig sighed. "Guys, look, I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean waved him off as he stopped in front of the record crate marked with the second letter of the alphabet. "We're just here to buy an album, that's all."

He quickly flicked through the records in the crate and pressed his lips together when he found the one he was looking for. On the back of a Blue Oyster Cult record, he saw the symbol he had recognized at the Hell House.

He grabbed it and slowly walked over to Craig with Sam on his heels.

"You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything," Dean told Sam conversationally, his voice hardening toward the end. "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult. Tell me, Craig, you into BOC or just scaring the hell out of people?"

When Craig turned around to face him and Sam, he handed the Blue Oyster Cult album to him. He took it and flipped it over, eyes flitting over the cover art, which included the symbol that was spray painted at the Hell House.

"Why don't you tell us about that house," Dean suggested. "Without lying through your ass this time."

Craig looked up at Dean for a moment. "All right," he sighed heavily. "My cousin Dana was on a break from TCU. I guess we were just bored and looking for something to do. So, I showered her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted so we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks."

"Then, we found out this guy, Murdoch, used to live there so we made up some story to go along with that," he continued. "They told people, who told other people, and then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took a life of its own."

Dean blinked at him; something about what he said was familiar.

"I mean, I thought it was funny at first, but..." Craig shook his head sadly. "That girl's dead. It was just a joke, you know? I mean, none of it was real. We just made the whole thing up, I swear!"

Sam nodded. "All right."

As they turned away from Craig to leave the record store, Dean muttered to Sam, "If none of it was real, how the fuck do you explain Mordechai?"

Dean was trying so hard not to smirk as he watched Sam wiggle around in his seat, trying not to scratch at his crotch. While his brother was in the shower, he had sprinkled itching powder into Sam's underwear and now he was able to watch the whole thing unfold right in front of him.

If only shortcake was here, too, he sighed mentally.

Sam was in the middle of talking to Julia on the phone, telling her his thoughts about Mordechai being a tulpa when Dean interrupted him, "Dude, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam said avoidantly.

"What's going on?" Julia's voice came from the speaker.

"Nothing," Sam assured her. "So, these tulpas...There was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard that they brought the thing to life out of thin air."

"Okay, well, there are thousands of people on the internet," Julia said thoughtfully.

"Exactly," Sam nodded, wincing as he picked at his itchy jeans. "I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai and then it spreads and goes online where countless people believe in the bastard."

"Wait a second," Dean spoke up. "People believe in Santa Claus so how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Cause you're a bad person," Sam opened his laptop, still squirming, and pulled up a photo of the sigil that brought tulpas to life. He showed it to Dean. "And because of this. That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was."

On the phone, they could hear a thump of a book and then pages being flipped. "Okay, this book says that the sigil has been used to centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people who are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol and thinking about Mordechai...would that be enough to bring a tulpa to life?"

"It would explain why he keeps changing," Dean answered her.

"Right," Sam adjusted his jeans and added, "as the legend changes, people think different things so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit," Dean stated, choking back his laughter as Sam started wiggling more than he had. "So, why don't we get this spirit sigil thing-y off the wall and off the website?"

"I don't think it's that simple," Julia sighed as they heard more pages being turned. "Once a tulpa is created, they take on a life of their own."

"Great," Dean grumped. "So, if he really is a thought form how the fuck are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, that's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us," Sam showed him the video Ed and Harry put up on their website. "Since they posted the footage, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh," Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "I've got an idea but we have to find a copy store."

"What are you thinking?" Julia wondered.

"We're gonna give these boys a story and change the legend," Dean told her as Sam forcefully stood up and did a weird walk to relieve himself. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I think I'm allergic to our soap or something."

Dean snickered as Julia spoke up, "What? We use hypoallergenic soap, Sam."

Dean's laughter increased as Sam did a weird lunge in the middle of the motel room. Sam immediately stood up to his full height and glowered at his older brother.

"You did this?!"

Dean couldn't talk, he was laughing so hard.

"You're a fucking jackass!"

Dean continued to laugh, standing up from his chair to dodge the attack coming his way.

As Sam chased Dean around the room, they didn't notice as Julia sighed, "All right, I'm gonna hang up now."

After Dean and Sam told Ed and Harry about this new legend that they found—in which Mordechai would be killed with a pistol and wrought-iron bullets—and a little prank Sam pulled on Dean—where he superglued his beer bottle to the palm of his hand—they headed back to the Hell House to kill the tulpa once and for wall.

They entered the house with their firearms drawn and slowly walked their way around, looking for any sign of Mordechai.

Dean winced as he tightened his hand around his gun. "I barely have any skin left on my palm."

Sam snickered. "I'm not touching that line with a ten-foot pole."

Dean pressed his lips together, irritated, and flashed his light straight into Sam's eyes until he flinched. Once he was satisfied that he got some sort of revenge on his little brother, he continued on through the living room and into the kitchen. "So, do you think old Mordechai's home?"

"I don't know," Sam pointed his gun at the door that led to the basement.

"Me either."

Sam and Dean whipped around at the new voice, pointing their pistols in Ed and Harry's faces.

"Woah, woah!" Ed shouted while Harry lifted his hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

Sam raised his gun away from them. "What are you trying to do, get yourselves killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?"

Before either of the irritated brothers could say another word, a crash came from the basement door. They instantly went back on alert, aiming their guns back at the door.

"Oh, shit," Ed muttered from behind them, focusing his camera on the action. "Hey, guys, do you wanna—you wanna open that door for us?"

"Why don't you?" Dean dared him.

None of them even stepped closer to the basement door as Mordechai burst through, growling at them while waving his ax in the air. Dean and Sam immediately took their shots but Mordechai didn't falter. It was only after full rounds that he disappeared but not in the way they wanted him too.

Sam and Dean immediately left the kitchen to check the other rooms on the first floor.

"Wait a minute?" Ed said breathlessly. "He's gone? He's gone."

"Did you get him?" Harry asked him urgently.

"Yeah, they got him."

"No," Harry shook his head. "On camera. Did you get him on camera?"

Ed faltered. "Well, I..."

Harry grabbed the camera from him. "Let me see it, let me see it."

He flipped open the little screen but was pushed to the floor as Mordechai appeared, smashing the camera with his ax. Dean ran back into the room after hearing some loud noises and glared at them.

"Hey, didn't you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?" he barked at them.

"Of course we did," Harry answered, getting to his feet as Sam came back into the room. "But then our server crashed."

Ed nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"So, it didn't take?" Ed and Harry shook their heads at Dean's question. "These guns don't work?"

"No."

"Great," Dean sighed and turned to his brother. "Sam, any ideas?"

Sam shrugged; no ideas. None whatsoever.

"We're getting out of here," Harry spoke up.

"Yeah," Ed agreed quickly. "Great idea."

They left the kitchen, only to run into Mordechai again. They screamed and ran for the front door but it was locked and they were unable to get out. They turned to see Mordechai and followed them to the front door and was slowly advancing toward them, raising his ax.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

"The power of Christ compels you!" Ed shouted at the tulpa. "The power of Christ compels. THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU."

Any other time, what Ed was saying would make Dean laugh so hard. But, alas, now was not the time for amusement. Sam ran up to the front door and shouted at Mordechai, getting his attention.

"Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!"

While Sam and Mordechai fought and Ed and Harry ran out of harm's way, Dean found some lighter fluid in the kitchen. He quickly sprayed it all over the floor and onto the cupboards before heading into the living room to spray it there, too.

"DEAN!"

Hearing Sam's shout of help, Dean quickly grabbed a bottle of spray paint and pulled his lighter out of his pocket before running toward his brother and Mordechai.

"Hey!" he shouted at the tulpa before lighting his lighter and spraying the paint at the same time, creating a homemade blow torch.

Mordechai let Sam go and disappeared; Dean grabbed Sam and helped him run back into the living room.

"Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him? We improvise."

He showed Sam his lighter and clicked it out before throwing it onto the floor. The old wooden beams lit up immediately and Sam and Dean took off, knocking down the front door and jumping off the porch.

As they ran into the trees, Sam turned to Dean incredulously. "That's your solution?" he pointed at the flaming house. "Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"Well, nobody will go in anymore," Dean shrugged. "I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well, then, we'll just have to come back."

Sam sighed at Dean's nonchalant answer and turned back to the house. "Kind of makes you wonder," he said. "Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."

Dean didn't answer but he thought about what Sam said as he continued to watch the house burn. It did kind of make him wonder but he couldn't really consider that. No matter if a supernatural was real just because someone believed in them, they were still killing them and saving people.

It was the family business, after all.

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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tearsofwinter · 6 years

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DnD Kirkwall Crew

@dovabunny challenged me to do an AU of the entire kirkwall crew, so I chose Dnd! It’s a bit based off a prompt I wrote: “ Fenris, Anders, and the rest of the gang play DnD. Their characters get into a duel because they are dead set on killing each other off. Many missed rolls later, their characters end up married with kids.”

Varric:

Modern: A successful author, of course. I’m thinking he would be the type of person that wants to write 10 multiple endings and have it printed, and watch his fans go crazy while they argue which is the canon ending. He also writes his own fanfiction of his own series.

DnD Role: Who better than Varric to be the GM? Master story teller. He enjoys putting all his friends through harrowing experiences and keeping them on their toes on whether they will or won’t survive. But Varric is also tenderhearted. He actually can’t kill off any of his friends, so they always make it to the end. NPCs though, they always die.

Hawke:

Modern: A fitness trainer/body builder. Hawke is proud of her body and tries to show it off every chance she gets. She isn’t exactly a health nut, but she’s all on the latest trends on how to make herself buff in a safe manner. She’s cheerful and always cracking a joke. Most people peg her as an extrovert, but I’m thinking her being this way is compensation for something in the past? When she was younger, she was scrawny. Her family was poor. They lived off food stamp. Leandra had to get a job at a sweatshop in order to help with the family income. To battle with the helplessness Hawke felt as a child, she physically made her body stronger.

DnD Role: Gold Dragonborn Warrior. “ Born of dragons, as their name proclaims, the dragonborn walk proudly through a world that greets them with fearful incomprehension. Shaped by draconic gods or the dragons themselves, dragonborn originally hatched from dragon eggs as a unique race, combining the best attributes of dragons and humanoids. Some dragonborn are faithful servants to true dragons, others form the ranks of soldiers in great wars, and still others find themselves adrift, with no clear calling in life.” Hawke didn’t care about the trait or abilities, or anything else. She saw dragon, she took it.

Rest under the cut

Bethany

Modern: College student. Is studying education and child care. Beth wants to work with children. Carver often teases her, saying she lacks the temperament. He keeps bringing up the story when they were little and he got her so mad, that she pushed him out of the treehouse. He still has a scar on his head to prove it. He likes to call her Ms. Crunchem from Matilda. In response, Bethany goes to where Carver works, and chats up Merrill, telling her all the embarrassing stories of Carver’s childhood.

DnD Role: Like Carver, Bethany only plays on occasion. She actually can’t make it every Satuday, as she works at a volunteer group. When she does play, she plays the wandering Orc, a reoccurring boss the crew has to beat. “Orcs live a life that has no place for weakness, and every warrior must be strong enough to take what is needed by force.” Bethany may look sweet and humble, but she’s a beast at the game. She takes great joy almost killing off everyone with her awesome rolls. The gang has repeatedly ask Hawke to stop bringing her lol.

Carver:

Modern: Also college student. He has a part time job at an aromatherapy shop. He tries to use the money he earns to help with the family, but Hawke never allows him to pay for the bills, and instead tells him to use it for school. Carver can’t wait to be older, graduate, and find a well paying job so Hawke can stop shouldering all of the responsibility.

DnD Role: N/A. Carver refuses to play DnD. He thinks it’s a silly game, but somehow he always gets suckered into playing when Hawke manages to drag him over to game night. Since Carver’s appearance is rare, he tends to play the NPCs that Varric eventually kills off lol. The gang love ribbing on Carver.

In alphabetical order:

Anders

Modern: An ex-doctor. Used to work for the Red Cross. When he came back to Kirkwall, he worked at the hospital for a while, but when a surgery got botched due to the negligence of the head surgeon, they needed a fall guy. Anders unfairly got his license revoked. Now Anders works at a Big Cat sanctuary as a volunteer, and on his spare time, he goes to protests.

DnD Role: A priest Tabaxi. “Hailing from a strange and distant land, wandering tabaxi are catlike humanoids driven by curiosity to collect interesting artifacts, gather tales and stories, and lay eyes on all the world’s wonders.” Fenris and Anders met because of Hawke and Varric. Hawke sometimes works at the sanctuary and invited Anders and Justice to game night. Fenris is a friend she made after a murder case Fenris helped solve and cleared her name. At first, neither Anders or Fenris were really into the game, until Fenris made an off handed comment about mages. After that, Anders kept trying to sabotage and kill Fenris’ character off. Since then, every single DnD night, Varric has to do one game for the Hawke and co, and a separate game for Anders and Fenris, who’s busying dueling each other.

Aveline

Modern: Police officer. Slowly, she’s working her way up the ranks in order to become a detective. As much as she enjoys patrolling Kirkwall, she wants conduct investigations and solve criminal cases. Donnic has been asking her if she wouldn’t prefer working as a prosecutor instead.

DnD Role: Warrior Aasimar. “Aasimar are placed in the world to serve as guardians of law and good. Their patrons expect them to strike at evil, lead by example, and further the cause of justice.” Everyone was quite shocked when Aveline picked this role. Most of them assumed she would’ve picked human. But when Aveline read this role, she knew it was the perfect fit for her. Isabela rolled her eyes and said of course, manly hand chose the most justicey of justicey roles.

Fenris

Modern: Works as a translator and a museum curator. In his spare time, Fenris writes. It’s how he met Varric. Both of them work for the same publishing company. Hawke was involved in an odd case where a word written in old Tevene was scratch into the wooden floor of the victim. Varric dragged Fenris in so he could translate it. They broke a few rules, but anything for writing material! What’s the most interesting detail is that Fenris is the author of Anders’ most favorite series. It’s a children’s book about cats, and it actually isn’t selling to well. But hearing Anders gush about it, kind of makes Fenris feel warm inside. All the money he makes from the books, he donates to the Big Cat Sanctuary Anders and Justice runs.

DnD Role: Goliath. “Strong and reclusive, every day brings a new challenge to a goliath.” Anders makes fun of Fenris for choosing this role. He says it must be because Fenris is trying to compensate for something. To which Fenris replied, “Why don’t you come and find out?” and then proceeded to try and roll for an instant KO on Anders’ character. However, he rolled a 1. Instead of smacking Anders’ character with a club, Fenris’ character ends up seducing Anders’ lol.

Isabela

Modern: Sex therapist. It wasn’t her first choice of job. When Izzy got kicked out of her home at a young age, she worked as a thief, then later joined a gang. However, when a gang war broke out, and she almost died during a shooting, Izzy left that life behind. Her current job is because she was able to blackmail a former lover. He helped her forge some papers. The Ph.D hanging on her wall? Fake. However, her advice is always sound. Maybe it’s because of the hard life she had, but Izzy is always able to see the truth of the matter, and say what needs to be said. Her patients always values her blunt wisdom.

DND Role: Chaotic Good Human Rogue. “Humans are the most adaptable and ambitious people among the common races. Whatever drives them, humans are the innovators, the achievers, and the pioneers of the worlds.” It was a toss up between the human or Triton race ( Long-established guardians of the deep ocean floor, in recent years the noble tritons have become increasingly active in the world above), but the triton just seemed so stuffy, so she went with the regular ol’ human. Having Izzy play is always unpredictable. While she’s good the first 30 minutes and make smart decisions, after her 4th can of beer, she’s chaos unleashed. She is especially fond of teasing Aveline and Carver.

Justice

Modern: The founder of Big Cat Sanctuary. Was knighted by the Queen of Ferelden. Like, he’s a legit knight. No one knows his complete backstory, it’s as if he appeared out of thin air one day. All they know is that his background is heavily guarded by the government.

DND Role: Does not play. He keeps telling Anders he has no time to join their frivolous games. So since Justice won’t drive to Varric’s, sometimes Anders has the gang come to THEIR apartment for game night. Even though Justice refuses to play, he keeps coming in and out of his room to watch how the game progresses. He makes sure everyone has something to drink, and that there’s plenty of snacks going around. He’s a bit of a mother hen.

Merrill

Modern: The owner of an aromatherapy/herablist shop. Everything is organic and hand crafted by Merrill. Diffusers, essential oils, bath bombs, homeopathic medicine, vitamins, plants etc can be found here. Hawke walked by this shop everyday to and fro from work, and the shop always smelled so nice that she finally decided to visit. Who knew that the shop also provided tea and yummy biscuits? It became her favorite place to go during lunch break. It’s thanks to Hawke that Carver got introduced to the job. It’s a bit funny. The shop barely ever has any customers, but not only does it manage to stay afloat, but also pays Carver very well. Carver wants to ask where Merrill gets the money, but he’s also afraid of the answer. What if she already has a lover and Merrill is actually a sugar baby? Carver will be devastated! ((Merrill actually runs an underground business of buying and selling artifacts. She’s taking back what belongs to her people, things that Orlais and Tevinter wrongly stole. Her shop is actually just a front)).

DnD Role: Elf mage. Merrill cannot imagine being anything else. She’s proud of her heritage. She is a bit absent minded while playing the game though, and often forgets the rules. At first Varric and Isabela looked out for Merrill, and tried to help her get the hang of the game, but then one night they noticed when Merrill “rolled” the dice, she distracted everyone by accidentally kicking the table. By the time everyone righted everything, Merrill’s dice went from a 3 to an 18. Sneaky, sneaky.

Sebastian

Modern: A foreign prince currently studying abroad. He ran into Bethany and Hawke during one of their volunteer sessions. Both of the sisters can’t get enough of his accent, so invited him to hang out with them. Rumor at the school is that he’s an exiled prince that got banned from court because of his frivolous and wanton attitude. Other rumors is, is that he saw the “Kirkwall Girls Gone Wild” TV ad, and wanted a piece of that action. Some hopefuls hope that they can snag the prince and become princess. They’ll be said to find out, Sebastian’s true goal at coming to Kirkwall was to study to become a clergyman.

DnD Role: Human warrior. As a child, Sebastian never got a chance to play DnD, so when Hawke dragged him to play, he was quite overwhelmed by all the races, classes, and rules. So he chose the most simple and easiest one to understand. Seb is quite a newb though, and for some reason, Varric seems to dislike him. While the rest of the crew seem to always scrape by unscathed, Seb’s character is always down to 1 HP.

This took me 2 hours to write. I hope you’re happy @dovabunny LOL

#meme #au meme #reply post #kirkwall gang #au game

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yetanotheremptypage · 7 years

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Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!

Last year, I put together this list of fic recs in honor of the day. They are all amazing, so you should definitely check them out, but in the mean time, here’s some more. I tried to tag most of the ships and/or fandoms, so if you ship any of those or are in the fandom, check out the recs below the cut. Of course, there are plenty more amazing fanfictions/writers out there, and to them, I give a huge THANK YOU! Finally, if you have any interest in any of my stories, links can be found here.

All Aboard the Dreamland Express (Swarkles, How I Met Your Mother) FF [Complete]

Farhampton, 2017. The gang convenes on the fabled front porch at long last, to regroup and address a pressing concern. Written for ficathon suggested by Beneath the Umbrella.

If the finale of HIMYM greatly upsets you, try this instead and it should solve those problems.

Between Universes (Martha Jones/Mickey Smith and Mickey Smith & Rose Tyler, Doctor Who) AO3 [Complete]

Whilst jumping universes using the Dimension Cannon, Rose meets an old friend, and one she has yet to meet, and finds out she will unknowingly give them a wonderful gift. In return, she's given something that could keep them all together even when they couldn't be further apart.

You gotta love Rose Tyler and her Dimension Cannon. In this story, it helps Martha keep fighting during the Year That Never Was, and helps Martha and Mickey find each other. It’s so well written, too.

Falser Than Vows Made In Wine (Rosaline Capulet/Benvolio Montague, Still Star Crossed) AO3 [In-progress]

In which Romeo and Juliet try to be impulsive and romantic, Rosaline and Benvolio get drunk and stupid, and what happens in Vegas... does NOT stay in Vegas.

This. Fic. Is. FANTASTIC. All of the characters are perfectly written, and the story retains the same super slow burn quality of the show, and it’s perfection. Gotta love a good Vegas Wedding AU.

Family Pond ‘Verse (Amy Pond/Rory Williams and 11/River Song, Doctor Who) AO3

This is a beautiful AU series in which Amy and Rory have another child after River, and River and the Doctor also have a kid later down the line. It is beautiful and adorable and just perfection, and features appearances from several other Who characters like Martha and Mickey.

Flood My Mornings (Jamie Fraser/Claire Fraser, Outlander) AO3 || Tumblr (@bonnie-wee-swordsman) [In-progress]

Two years after Culloden, Jamie accidentally falls through the stones, finding himself in 1950.

Bonnie is such an amazing writer and she keeps Jamie and Claire in character so freaking well and this AU is one of those where you see canon and you’re like, “But wait didn’t-- No, no that was fanfic.”

Gretel (Swarkles and Ted Mosby & Robin Scherbatsky, How I Met Your Mother) AO3 [Complete]

Robin and Ted are sitting in the bar. They actually talk. A bit.

Post-Swarkles engagement where Robin and Ted talk about their feelings and don’t shove them down.

I Got It Bad (But It Feels So Good) (Peter Parker/Michelle, Spider-Man: Homecoming) AO3 [In-Progress]

The first time she kissed him, it's a joke. Michelle knows that it's Peter under the mask. He was supposed to reveal his identity to her.

Instead, he kissed her back.

So Spideychelle consumed my life reaaal quick after seeing Homecoming and this fic is just completely amazing and I love it.

If It’s Not Too Late For Coffee (Jack Harkness & Martha Jones, Doctor Who) AO3 [Complete]

Five times Martha Jones and Jack Harkness had conversations over coffee and one time they didn't.

Martha and Jack’s friendship is just the best, and this explores that over the years. Also features Martha/Mickey.

If Only, If Only (Sanrion, Game of Thrones) FF [In-progress]

How Tyrion and Sansa's wedding night might have gone, and how their stories might have altered because of it. Show-verse.

This is the same beautiful writer who is writing Winter’s Thaw, which I talked about on my last list. This story is just as beautiful, and every time I get the email with an update, I stop what I’m doing and read it. It is so so so good and I love it.

I’ll Find You (Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, The 100) AO3 [Complete]

In every life she's granted, Clarke loves Bellamy Blake's eyes.

Every time Clarke Griffin is reincarnated, she finds Bellamy Blake. They don't always fall in love, they don't always end up together, but they find each other all the same.

I think this is such a great reincarnation fic-- they never remember each other, but no matter how shitty a situation they’re in (War, child cancer patients, and more) they always cross paths. It’s a cool exploration of the way lives can cross, and it even follows history, with an early portion existing in the days of the Roman Empire while later portions chronicle post and pre Ark life. Basically, it’s so good!

Just A Pack of Sweets (Martha Jones/Mickey Smith, Doctor Who) AO3 [Complete]

You know you wondered, and if you do the maths, it's only six weeks from the day Mickey and Martha meet to the day when Martha is said to be on her honeymoon.

Six months after that we learn that Mickey and Martha are married.

Fast work... unless it's timey wimey

I love Martha and Mickey, so this fic exploring their relationship is amazing and wonderful and awesome and I love it. Also features Rose/Tentoo

Life Is What Happens (Sybil x Tom, Downton Abbey) FF [In-progress]

A post-3x05 rewrite of Downton Abbey Series 3 and Series 4 in which Sybil lives. Previously posted on my tumblr blog as a series of drabbles re-imagining scenes in S4 with Sybil present.

Lady Sybil Lives AUs are my fav, and I love this one. Sadly *spoilers* it still kills off Matthew *end spoilers* but everything is handled so well. It’s so good.

Looks Like We Made It (Quicketh, Glee) FF [In-progress]

Future Fic. This is a sequel to "Just Let Me Try" and "We Can Do This" set 5-6 years after Quinn and Puck graduate high school. Follow them as they embark on a new phase of their lives with their family and friends.

This is so so so good. It’s the life I wish Quinn, Puck, and Beth could have had, and the other ones in the series are also perfection.

Moments (Cartson, Agent Carter) FF [Complete]

Peggy Carter, Agent, not coffee girl, not office gopher, not simply Captain America's girl, but Agent. Welcome to the new era that is my life...and Jack's as he gets taken along for the ride

Post-Season 1, including a Season 2 AU, with all of Peggy, Jack, and Daniel’s misadventures. I devoured this thing in like a night because I loved it so much, and the sequel/companion is also amazing.

Nothing Was Ordinary (Sizzy, The Mortal Instruments) AO3 [Complete]

"Isabelle was beautiful, not that Simon was biased or anything. It was a fact he knew so well, but sometimes it would just hit him; like when he was going to retrieve some fallen arrows after their fight with a Shax demon. He probably should keep cleaning what he could, making sure he wasn’t cut anywhere, wasn’t burned by ichor but he found himself just staring."

Filled with endless feels on the ending of Lady Midnight, here's a take on the scene Simon mentions in "A Long Conversation". Spoilers for the ending of Lady Midnight.

If you also flailed upon learning that Simon and Isabelle were engaged, this is the one-shot for you.

Pretty Wings (Leyton, One Tree Hill) FF [Complete]

The decision to leave is made quickly, but rationally. The goodbyes are hard, but everyone understands. When Peyton tells Lucas this is their happy ending, he just shakes his head. He tells her it's their happy beginning. Post 6x24 and future Oneshot. LP

I really wish is this is what happened with Leyton after they left. It’s beautiful and I love it.

Redemption Harbor (Leyton, One Tree Hill) FF [Complete]

One man's ferociously cruel obsession causes turmoil in Tree Hill and has our much loved characters striving for salvation, but is it too late? Faith and hope are challenged in a quest for redemption. AU LP

This is so freaking sad and angsty but so beautiful too. The sequel is also awesome.

Speak Aloud What Until Now I’ve Only Sung (Auslly, Austin and Ally) FF [Complete]

It takes eleven years of bad timing and miscommunication, plus one called off engagement, but eventually they figure it out. Austin/Ally through the years. "Austin is her best friend. Having him in her life is more important than anything else ... even if it means having her heart broken from time to time." Complete.

This slightly AU fic is just the right amount of angsty that you have to keep reading, and of course, these two idiots are perfectly in character to boot.

Stay With Me, Go Places (Swarkles, How I Met Your Mother) FF [In-progress]

"No, we really did get divorced. It just kind of turns out that we sucked at it."

If you also were destroyed by the HIMYM finale and need a new canon to accept, may I suggest this one?

To Build A Home (Frary, Reign) FF [Complete]

"The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest." -Debra Ginsberg / Nine months, nine moments, and the building of a family.

Frary baby feels that I sometimes forget aren’t canon because this story’s that good.

And now, some awesome writers:

quantum-oddity (Mostly Hamilton) AO3 || Tumblr (@my-dearesteliza)

If you love Hamliza and/or Philtheo you need to read these fics. If you love family fluff you need to read these fics. If you love smut you need to read these fics. Long story short, you need to read these fics.

gotham-ruaidh (Mostly Outlander) AO3 || Tumblr (@gotham-ruaidh)

Gotham’s absolutely amazing Jamie and Claire fics are amazing. My personal favorite is the Modern Glasgow AU, where Jamie and Claire raise their children in modern-day Glasgow. So many Outlander characters appear in various different forms and it makes me so happy.

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beaniesandmilkshakes · 7 years

Text

you and me (the lucky ones this time) - oneshot

Summary: In which Jughead and Betty are just as in love as young adults as they were when they were teens. (bughead, fluff)

author’s note: I was listening to Lana Del Rey’s American and an hour later I had written this baby. Fair warning, it’s incredibly fluffy and cliche. enjoy xo!

The air was warm and the sounds of cicadas screeched around them, but to Jughead Jones, Sweetwater River was officially his new favorite place, especially with her.

Betty Cooper was sprawled out on the picnic blanket the couple had packed, latest James Patterson novel, sunglasses propped up on her head. Due to the mid-July heat, she wore a light violet dress that barely touched her knees (which was practically sinful for a Cooper girl), her blonde hair up in its usual ponytail. She was absolutely stunning in Jughead’s head.

While his girlfriend read, Jughead had begun to take pictures with his new Canon camera, a gift from his new foster family. He had always been interested in photography, but considering the fact that his father could barely afford to rent their trailer, Jughead never bothered to ask for a camera. Now that he had one of his own though, there was no stopping the boy, he shot everything from the kitchen table to candids of his friends at Pop’s. But even with all the pictures he’d taken over the past month, most of the pictures on his camera were on Betty.

She hated when Jughead took candids of her, always pointing out the flaws in her profile, while her boyfriend beamed proudly and kissed her on the cheek, still unable to process that he was lucky enough to call Betty Cooper his.

It was that day in mid-July, as he sat back down on the blanket next to his girlfriend when he realized how much Jughead really did love her. Betty glanced up from her novel, catching him staring.

“What?” She giggles, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend. Jughead shot her a goofy grin and shook his head.

“Nothing, just thinking…” He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, his beanie long abandoned in early June when the temperature started rising up to the nineties. Betty marked her page with a bookmark and sighed, leaning her head again Jughead’s shoulder, which he responded to by laying his arm across her shoulders.

“Can you believe that in a little over a month we’ll be starting our senior year in high school?” Betty sighed, looking up at Jughead through her thick lashes. God, she’s so beautiful, Jughead thought.

“I know, and only ten years ago we were doing our times tables and had snack time, which we should totally petition Wetherbee to add to the schedule by the way.” The blonde giggled, rolling her eyes.

“Wow, those ten years totally flew by, imagine how fast the next ten years will fly by…”

“What do you think you’ll be doing in ten years,” Jughead asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. They’d had this conversation before, the ‘Where do you see your future going?’ one, and for the past three years, they still managed to include each other in their futures. He just wanted to make sure that hadn’t changed.

“Well, in ten years I hope to be a very successful journalist in New York,” Betty started, nudging Jughead in the side as she continued. “And I’ll have this wildly handsome boyfriend who wears suspenders and beanies and takes me to indy coffee shops,”

“Wow, that boyfriend of yours sounds like a loser,” He smirked, and Betty leaned up to give him a soft kiss.

“Trust me, he is.” She smiled, pulling away only for Jughead to pull her back into a kiss, lasting longer than the first. The two sighed as they parted, Jughead rubbing his thumb along Betty’s cheekbone.

“Let’s come back here, to this very spot, in ten years,” He whispers, their lips still centimeters apart.

“The last thing I want is to be stuck in Riverdale for the next ten years,” Betty closed her eyes, her warm breath tickling Jughead’s cheek.

“You won’t, we’ll come back and visit. Deal?”

“Fine Jughead Jones, it’s a deal.”

It would add an extra hour to their travel time, but Jughead insisted they take advantage of the beautiful weather and spend some time relaxing before going back to the stress of New York. Betty reluctantly agreed, only because she had brought a new thriller that she was dying to read, but never found time to.

So the two sat along the banks of Sweetwater River, just like they had when they were teenagers, Betty reading her book and Jughead taking pictures of the beauty around him (meaning he was mostly sneaking photos of Betty when she wasn’t looking). He felt a fond wave of nostalgia wash over him as he glanced down at his girlfriend, the weight in his short’s pocket somehow getting heavier.

After getting the warning that his SD card was almost full (his third one this month), Jughead took a seat next to his girlfriend, laying his head fondly on her shoulder.

“Hey,” He whispered. Betty marked her page and bit her lip, turning her head slightly.

“Hey,” She smiled, the couple sharing a chaste kiss before the two rolled over onto their backs, gazing up at the clouds above.

“You think the twins really liked their gift? I know how much Cheryl loves to upstage us at these events,” Jughead asked. The main reason the couple had taken the five-hour drive back to Riverdale from New York City was that it was Betty’s niece and nephew, JJ and Beth Blossom’s eighth birthday. The weekend had been filled with awkward Blossom family meals and snide comments about the couple taking up residence in Brooklyn, but it was worth it to see the twins, who Jughead and Betty both loved as if they were their own children.

Jughead never really thought about having kids until he met Betty, but he definitely knew he wanted them after bonding with the twins. Beth loved to dress up and thick storybooks that she always had Jughead read to her whenever she saw him, and JJ spent his time outside, inspecting every little plant and bug in the massive Blossom backyard. Jughead remembered how excited JJ had been when he let him use his old Canon to take pictures of the ladybugs and daisies the two had found in the backwoods of Thornhill. Spending time with JJ and Beth made Jughead long for a little Betty and Jughead toddling around, probably going off on secret sleuthing missions just like their parents had when they were younger.

“Cheryl may have us beat with the number of gifts, but I saw the look on JJ’s face when he opened up his own junior adventure’s camera and did you notice how big Beth’s smile was when she saw that we gave her that personalized princess storybook? Trust me, we’re definitely their favorite aunt and uncle,” Betty smiled, lacing her fingers with her boyfriend’s.

They’d been together for about thirteen years now, since that fateful October afternoon when Jughead finally got the nerves to kiss the girl he’d been crushing on since he was ten. Sure, they’d had their ups and downs, even spit up once or twice, but those estrangements never lasted more than a few weeks until the two realized how much they really needed each other. Back in high school, Jughead had been so worried that as soon as they graduated that Betty would move on to bigger and better things, leaving him behind; now, Jughead couldn’t imagine a life without the giggly blonde. He reached into his shorts pocket and smoothed his finger over the velvet box that seemed to weigh a ton, but in reality was practically lighter than a feather.

“Remember ten years ago? When we came here before senior year started?” He asked her, feeling a lump in his throat form. Betty didn’t notice as realization dawned on her.

“Oh yeah, and we talked about where we’d be in ten years? Wow, we were so young and innocent back then…”

“Well … not totally innocent. I see to remember a certain blonde and I doing some sinful things in the janitor's closet, the Blue and Gold room, your frilly bedroom, the Whyte Wy-” Betty smacked his shoulder.

“Oh shut up Juggie,” She laughed. “I meant that we were teenagers, we had no idea where our lives were headed.” Betty turned and snuggled closer to her boyfriend, inhaling his scent of old books and coffee. “I had no idea I would end up working as a children’s book editor, and you certainly didn’t predict you’d be taking photographs of celebrities for magazines. We obviously didn’t know how expensive rent was in the city because trust me, if I knew that a studio could cost up to fifty grand a month, I would never–”

“Betts,” Jughead chuckled, his palms becoming a bit more clammy. “I get what you mean,”

“Sorry,” The blonde blushed, her tendency to ramble became more and more regular as she grew older, especially in telling authors where to fix things in their text. To say that people would get mildly annoyed with her on the regular would be an understatement.

“It’s fine babe,” Jughead murmured, kissing her forehead, slowly pulling out the velvet box. “I was just going to say how ten years ago, I sat in this very spot and decided that I was officially the luckiest man to have ever walked the earth because I’ve never known such beauty as Betty Cooper,” He starts, his voice cracking a bit. Betty looks up at him through her thick lashes, just as she had ten years ago, her pupils blown with a mixture of love and lust.

“Oh Juggie,” She whispered.

“It was also ten years ago that I decided I shouldn’t let that beauty go, ever. That I need to spend the rest of my life with her, if she’ll have me,” Tears welled in Betty’s eyes as Jughead opened the small box, revealing a simple diamond engagement ring. “So, Elizabeth Allison Cooper, will you–”

Betty threw her arms around her boyfriend and kissed him passionately, almost causing Jughead to drop the ring.

“So is that a yes or…” He laughed as the pulled away, earning another playful smack.

“Of course I’ll marry you, you big sap!” He slid the ring onto her left hand with delicacy, having spent the past ten years imagining this moment, it almost seemed like a dream. Betty held her hand up to the sun to examine the ring further, and Jughead felt a tad bit of embarrassment at the size of it.

“Sorry the diamonds kinda small, I figured you don’t like flashy things and we could use the extra money for the wedding so…” Jug rubbed the back of his neck and Betty looked up at him with so much love it was almost overwhelming.

“It’s perfect Jughead, you picked out the perfect ring for me and I love it,” She pulled him in for another long kiss.

“Actually, Veronica tried to help me, but she kept picking ones a couple thousand dollars out of my price range,” He smirked, and Betty laughed, picturing her best friend and fiancé arguing over engagement rings of all things.

The newly engaged couple lay in silence until the sun began to set, Betty admiring her ring and pulling Jughead into a kiss every few minutes. When the sky turned a dusty shade of orange, they packed up the blanket and got back into the car, driving off towards their future, together.

#bughead fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #fluff #you and me (the lucky ones this time)#oneshot #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty and jughead

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oh-mother-of-darkness · 7 years

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asks (9)

Anonymous said: if you have the time, could we maybe please have your absolute /worst/ headcanons about Dick mourning Damian? before/during Spyral? btw u are an absolute gift :*

Shoot I meant to put this one into the fic today too. Oh well. Damian and Dick angst is here

Anonymous said: everytime I see something about damian it reminds me of you

The highest praise I’ve ever received :’)

Anonymous said: do you know of other batblogs that don't do ships?

Uhhhhhh I don’t think so? I can’t think of anyone else that’s entirely ship-free, but frankly I don’t follow very many people. How bout this? If any of y'all ARE ship-free, reply in the notes. That way we’ll know :)

Anonymous said: Song recs: "Centuries" by Fall Out Boy (Justice League), "Remember The Name" by Fort Minor ft. Styles of Beyond (this is THE Batfam song!), "Counting Stars" by OneRepublic (Dick), "All The Right Moves" by OneRepublic (Batkids), "Tiptoe" by Imagine Dragons (Batkids), "Warrior" by Beth Crowley (Batgirls), "Shatter Me" by Lindsey Stirling ft. Lzzy Hale (Babs), "Disarm" by The Civil Wars (Jason), "Demons" by Imagine Dragons (Jason), "Afterlife" by Ingrid Michaelson (Batkids).

Oooooooh thank you these are very nice! I hadn’t heard most of them

Anonymous said: Batfam/kids song recs! "Renegades" by X-Ambassadors, "When The Darkness Comes" by Colbie Caillat, "Royals" and "Rule the World" by Lorde, "Midnight" and "Fix You" by Coldplay and "Bad Blood" by Bastille. Also for Dick: "Pompeii" by Bastille and "Hopeless Wanderer" by Mumford & Sons.

Thanks! Idk if this was one person or two, but please continue to send me music, y'all, I like it

Anonymous said: no need to be batfamily centric, what comics would you recommend for someone getting into comics now?

Red Robin (2009)

Batgirl (2009)

Batman and Robin (2009)

Batman and Robin (2011)

Robin: Son of Batman (2015)

Batman: Under the Red Hood

Batman: The Black Mirror

Batman: The Court of Owls

Batman: Death of the Family

Good enough for a start? I don’t read a lot outside the batfamily titles, I’m afraid

Anonymous said: Omg I love your writing. Can I request Damian and Jason fighting about Damian and Jon's missions?

Hm I’m a lil backlogged just now, but I think there’s a pretty good chance that Jon will show up eventually. Just probably not real soon :/

Anonymous said: I'm new to the DC comic world, but I'm a bit curious as to how fans feel/reacted about one thing: Talia drugging and taking advantage of Bruce? Do fans feel the same about that as they would if that had happened to a female character? Was it a big deal? I was shocked to find out it had happened, and want to know how other fans feel. Did the writers ever later address it?

Oh boy

In my experience there are two schools of thought:

1) People that like Talia and choose to use the older version of canon, where Bruce and Talia were in love and the rape never happened

2) People that hate Talia

As always, I’d prefer not to say which side I come down on, and I won’t answer any personal questions related to Talia. It’s a bit of a hot button topic, and I prefer to avoid conflict. Thank you. Let’s continue.

Here’s the thing, anon-- Damian was created by a writer named Grant Morrison in 2006. Before that, there was a storyline where Bruce and Talia had a baby, and she gave him up for adoption without telling him. Historically, Bruce and Talia’s relationship has been pretty straightforward: they liked each other, and any romantic interactions were consensual.

Morrison changed that. I can’t say for certain why, but you can read a bit more about my opinion of him over here. In Morrison’s version, Damian was conceived by rape, for eugenic purposes; they were trying to create the ideal heir from al Ghul and Wayne DNA.

Talia drugged Bruce’s drink, and yes, that is absolutely rape. No doubt about it. Rape. It’s disgusting and unnecessary, and it doesn’t really make sense, considering the thirty-five years of material that came before Morrison’s Talia.

Because of that, it’s a divisive topic. There are a lot of people who argue that since Talia’s actions were out of character for her (and since Morrison went on to make her do other out of character things, like murdering her own son) the rape should be removed from canon. Those folks generally substitute the older storyline where Bruce and Talia were in love.

That kind of thinking really isn't that uncommon for comic fans because the way comic canon is constructed-- multiple writers with varying skill levels who frequently produce overlapping or contradictory accounts of the same events-- presents us with multiple versions to choose from. A small and unrelated example: in his original version, Tim Drake dropped out of high school before graduation. In the n52, he graduated early. I prefer the older version, so even when I read the n52, I think of Tim as a high school drop out.

There are also canon story lines that I just don’t acknowledge, Battle for the Cowl being the easiest example. I know that the characterization is awful, so I pretend it never happened.

Morrison dramatically changed who Talia is as a character, not just at that specific point, but continually from 2006 to 2013. Since he retired, Talia has been shifting back to her older incarnation (again, see the link from above). You’re going to find a lot of folks who are happy with that, and those are likely to be the same people that edit the rape out of Talia’s history.

You’re also going to find folks on the other side of the issue-- people that acknowledge the rape and believe that it would be wrong to edit it out of history. Morrison’s Talia, while mischaracterized, has been around for a long time with some very dramatic effects. Damian’s redemption storyline, death, resurrection, and general personality all depend on Talia’s action while Morrison was writing her-- if you choose to ignore all of that, Damian as we know him can’t exist, and he’s been a giant part of the general bat canon for the last eleven years.

Beyond that, rape and filicide are awful, horrifying crimes, and they both happened within Talia’s canon. They’re the current version. They haven’t been retconned. As a matter of fact, Morrison isn’t the only one circulating that version-- the recent animated movies about Damian explicitly include the rape, and those began in 2014.

You also made an excellent point when you asked about gender-- male rape victims are treated incredibly poorly in fiction and life, and I think it’s fair to argue that ignoring Bruce’s canonical rape contributes to that. Bruce isn’t the only member of the batfamily with this issue either. Dick was raped by Tarantula in 2002 (he asked her not to touch him, he was in shock and immobile, and she had sex with him anyway), and that writer (Devon Grayson) didn’t even call it rape. Would the rape of either of those men be treated differently if they were women? I don’t know. I can’t really answer a hypothetical. But it’s worth thinking about.

When it comes to Talia, I’d say my experience with general opinion has been about a 50/50 split? That being said, I am very young, and I’ve only been in this game for five years. I can’t tell you how any of this went over in 2006 because I was a ten year old at the time, and I don’t think I know anyone older who could tell me.

As far as writers go... I don’t recall Bruce’s emotional state being addressed in any way. Most of the time, writers don’t directly talk about it. Some of them seem to lean towards the earlier version by framing Bruce and Talia as a love story; however, that doesn’t mean that by omitting the rape, they retcon it. People are raped by their partners or spouses all the time. Saying that Bruce loved Talia doesn’t automatically erase the rape. Implying that Bruce and Talia had consensual sex before or after Damian’s conception doesn’t automatically erase the rape. Frankly it would be very hard to retcon, since there would have to be some kind of statement within the dialogue denying any kind of drugging.

I don’t know if any of this will ever be addressed, but I’ve written a lot more than I meant to now, so I’m going to stop. I hope I answered all your questions. If I didn’t, you could try sending me a message instead of an ask, and we can talk more about it in private

@another-nameless-person said: The CTC story reminds me so much of my own family omg. I am so happy I'm not the only one with a big family who does this too. I'm so happy I've since moved out of my moms and can stash my own junk food at home lol

Right? I’m only just now kicking the habit of hiding my food. I also recently realized that I’m allowed to drink directly from the bottles now, which is fun

@coredesignixandnekonee said: Do you think, in a world where Nightwing knows Starfire, Oracle, Miss Martian, Red Arrow/Arsenal, and Kid Flash (Wally West1) that there's a "red headed friends of Robin/Nightwing" club where they hang out and complain about him with tea and cookies?

Wally, dipping Oreos in his milk: listen guys I know for a fact he isn’t sleeping and I think we’re gonna have to make him. Whose turn is it

#yes i like music send me music #please #i particularly liked afterlife #asks #whooo boy I'm gonna have to tag this one i think #rape #rape cw #tw: rape #death #please remember that i don't want to take sides and i don't want to talk about it #bout have a panic attack every time she comes up tbh

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empathetixss · 4 years

Text

Quinn Fabray Verse Drop

do you think i can get it all back (season 1)

Glee in season 1. Everything is canon.

is this me feeling enough for you. (season 2)

Glee in season 2. Everything is canon until Funeral when Finn and Quinn break up. After her mother realizes Quinn is spiraling into a deep depression, Judy Fabray decides to move with Quinn. Quinn doesn’t just quit Glee Club without a word, she moves. (Six months before the end of Junior Year.)

I’m only human (human verse)

After a rough junior year, Judy Fabray decides to move her daughter from Lima, Ohio to Mystic Falls, Virginia. Quinn settles in rather well, with the other kids, getting a job at The Grill and joining the cheer squad. She’s trying to adjust to her new life. Knowing nothing of the supernatural around her, she’s managed to even make friends with one Rebekah Mikaelson, seeing a lot of her old self in the girl.

to start a life and maybe change the world (kept beth)

Quinn and her mother decided to keep Beth after her birth. Quinn moved to Mystic Falls with her and settled into the new swing of things. Life with a baby is hard, but she’s adjusting.

Sub-verse: where everyone you know never leaves too soon (new orleans) - Quinn goes to New Orleans with Beth after graduation realizing she needs a change. She’s currently enrolled in College and slings beer at the local bar. She’s a Journalism major with a flair for philosophy, sociology, and psychology. (all the -ologies as she says.)

her blood’s a drug (pixie!quinn)

One night Quinn was getting out late from The Grill when she was attacked by a vampire. Quinn fought him off as hard as she could. Light emerged from her fingertips and blasted the vampire away. Scared, she drove home as fast as she could. Her mother found her in her car, shaking. It was then that Judy Fabray revealed the truth. Quinn was half pixie, and her powers had finally emerged.

magic in her veins (witch!quinn)

Quinn Fabray had said that her parents would burn her like a witch if they found out she was pregnant, she wasn’t kidding. Quinn’s magic emerged after she got pregnant. She accidentally started a fire in her bedroom. She managed to get it under control, but she couldn’t hide it once she got to Mystic Falls. Taken under the wing of a witch, she quickly learned how to control her emerging powers, and hide them from her mother.

Subverses: here to relive your darkest moments (new orleans): To save her daughter from the magic in her blood that’s trying to consume her, Quinn goes to New Orleans for help from the witches there. (set five years after Beth’s birth.)

never can say goodbye (vampire!quinn)

Quinn was driving back to Lima, Ohio for the wedding of Will and Emma when she got hit full speed by a truck. She was rushed to the hospital where she died on the table. She died as a human, but the doctor working on her had tried using vampire blood, to heal her wounds. She awoke in transition and afraid. She made it back to Mystic Falls and is currently trying to figure out her life as a vampire. She currently doesn’t have a daylight ring and in hiding.

chicago was magical (vampire!quinn)

In Chicago, 1920, Quinn Fabray and her family were one of the best mob families. Highly well known and wealthy, Quinn was Russell’s shining star. She started sneaking out with her sister when she turned 17. Quinn ended up at Gloria’s speakeasy one night upon hearing that the woman was looking for a singer for the night, Quinn auditioned. Gloria liked her and from then on, every night from nine until late in the night she would work. She ended up falling in with Klaus and Rebekah Mikaelson, they all got on very well with one Stefan Salvatore. One night, she was leaving the club when she was attacked and turned. When she awoke as a vampire, she knew Quinn should go to Klaus and Rebekah, but instead she turned to Gloria. Gloria gave her a daylight cross and ring as well as helped her through the transition. From the 1920s on she’s been traveling, finally, she ended up in Mystic Falls after hearing that The Originals had settled there. (Bloodline: unknown)

the full moon rising (werewolf!quinn)

Quinn was everyone’s favorite blonde cheerleader when she accidentally caused an accident. She ended up killing the other driver by mistake and in doing so, triggered her curse. Having no idea what to do she ended up back in Mystic Falls, a werewolf in disguise as a pretty blonde. (She’s turned into a wolf once but is sure she’s alone in this world. This can transition into a Teen Wolf verse as well.)

watch the queen conquer (hybrid!quinn)

Quinn triggered her families werewolf curse by accident. Her parents explained to her that they had to go to New Orleans, it would be safer there for her. What they didn’t know was that the Originals had come home and the hybrids were being made. Quinn managed to make friends with Hayley Marshell, knowing the other woman could sniff out the werewolf on her. When she got a chance, she begged the other woman to help her be a hybrid. She couldn’t take the pain of being a wolf anymore. Hayley helped her and told her she would talk to Klaus. The transition was easy, but now she’s sired to with Hybrid King himself.

it’s always darkest before the dawn (grew up in mystic falls)

(taken from my original roleplay and transitioned to the indie rp world.)

Life in Mystic Falls has been nothing if not hectic for Quinn Fabray; she went from ruling the school with Elena by her side to having a fall out with the tall brunette after the girl’s parents died in that car accident on Wickery Bridge, and then cheating on Finn in a moment of weakness with Tyler Lockwood, only to end up knocked up and shut out. When it became known that she was pregnant with Tyler’s child, it was as if the whole school had turned on her in an instant, and the one person she’d expected to treat her the worst in her downward spiral ended up being her best friend during that time. Rachel helped her with the pregnancy and the post-partum depression that hit after she gave the baby up for adoption. Upon realizing that Rachel is a much better friend than half the people who used to claim the title, Quinn settles on trying to plan out her future when she discovers she’s a witch, thanks in part, to Klaus and Rebekah Mikaelson, who waltzes into town claiming that they want her as their personal witch, something that doesn’t do well with a recovering Stefan, someone Quinn hadn’t expected to hold lingering feelings for, especially seeing as he was Elena’s ex-boyfriend.

to undo what has been done (post originals) (part of the grew up in mystic falls verse)

Quinn returns to Mystic Falls with Beth in tow. The girl’s magic has finally emerged causing everything to go wrong around her. When Quinn heard about the Salvatore School, she knew she had to bring her little girl there. Of course, Beth is a teenager now and might not listen to her birth mother much, but Quinn wants to be there to help. In the meantime, her relationship with Rebekah Mikaelson unfolds.

it’s heavy this legacy (legacies verse)

In 2015, Quinn Fabray graduated Yale University at the top of her class with a double majoring in Journalism and Psychology, she starts her graduate degree and finishes this in 2017. She has a job interning for her favorite professor and currently looking into becoming a teacher. In 2019, Quinn Fabray, a 25-year-old witch is called in the middle of the night from her New Haven Apartment. She’s contacted by her daughter’s adoptive mother, Shelby, worried and in trouble. Beth’s powers were emerging, and she needed help. Quinn realized that Beth’s probably more powerful than she can help with by herself takes her to Salvatore Boarding School for the Young & Gifted. Enrolling her into school, she checks in on her every week. In 2021, Beth is 11 at this point in time, Shelby passes away, Quinn, 27, who has been teaching at Mystic Falls High so she can stay close takes her daughter in. She joins the staff of the Salvatore Boarding School that same year. She teaches Journalism, English, and The History of Magic. In 2028, Beth is now 18, is strikingly beautiful as her mother and is one of the more popular girls at the school. Quinn at 34 has never really been in a serious relationship, focusing mostly on her daughter and the life she’s built for them.

lifted from my old blog.

#( verse drop )#( m: quinn fabray )

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