#i mean we could have tried with black bears first they're pretty chill

[sneezefiction]

daichi x female reader where they both had a crush on each other in hs but never let the other know (but everyone else knew heh). she didn't want to distract him from volleyball and he was scared she would reject him since a lot of other guys liked her. now they're both out of college and single and run into each other!

Daichi x Reader

an absolutely precious request!!! thanks for the idea and I hope you enjoy it uvu (i decided to make them freshman at university in this fic, just fyi)

a/n: aghh I love Daichi so much. the first words that come to mind when i think of him are “warm, genuine, and protective.” here’s some campus cuteness!! i tried to do a bulleted list, but got carried away and wrote a short one-shot heh <3

warnings: none, read freely!

wc: 1950

---

There are two kinds of people: Those who don’t fear rejection and those that do. Unfortunately, you and Daichi both fell into the latter category. 

From the moment Daichi laid eyes you, he couldn’t take them off of you. The scrunched up face you make when you laugh, the empathetic glance you gifted someone with when they scored a bad grade on a test, and the sweet smile you would shoot his way if he ever caught your gaze. 

It got his heart racing, bearing a side of him no one had seen before. It was an aching mixture of the protective feeling he got when furiously defending his team on the court and the overwhelming joy he drowned in after a volleyball victory. 

Both fiery and vulnerable.

You on the other hand hadn’t noticed Daichi until your 2nd year. 

Yeah, you were both in the same year, but your classes never seemed to match up so he didn’t stick out to you. Your infatuation with the boy truly began at a practice game against a guest team in the Karasuno gym. You’d only gone to appease a friend, but Daichi hooked you immediately. His voice deep, full of command and confidence. You so admired his ability to control the spirit of the court and it was thrilling to witness his powerful, fearless receives. 

He’s also built. Just sayin.

The both of you were hooked on each other, but there were a couple of problems.

First, you knew how much he loved volleyball. The way his eyes lit up at the sight of the court would give anyone chills. You couldn’t bear to distract him even in the slightest with some kind of confession. It felt obvious that rejection would be in your future if you even tried to ask him out, something you would be nervous about even if volleyball weren’t an obstacle. 

Second, the confidence that Daichi exuded on the court didn’t fully translate outside of it. He knew that so many guys were after you. You’re absolutely gorgeous, talented, and witty, able to make an entire class laugh. Traits that any guy would be lucky to find in a girl. So it wasn’t a surprise that half the team, half the school really, thought you were cute. Daichi wasn’t sure he could stand up to that. Even with Asahi and Sugawara’s attempts to convince Daichi that you definitely liked him back, he didn’t want to risk it. 

“Daichi-san, what’s the worst that could happen?” Asahi pushes, “You do realize that she always cheers for your number right? She’s always looking your way in class and on the court.” 

Sugawara huffs, “I would have asked her out myself if it weren’t for your stupid crush.” Daichi sends a sharp glare at Suga, making him snicker through his signature smile.

It was clear that the two of you had a crush on each other, but timing really is everything. Daichi had to focus on finding his confidence off the court. You needed your own wake up call: the freedom to make your feelings known without fearing the outcome. 

---

Flash forward to your Freshman year at university. Spring brought cherry blossoms and fresh feelings, contrasting perfectly with the dreary Winter months you’d just escaped from. You wish you’d worn an extra layer, but you’re simply stuck with a thin, long sleeve shirt today. The 1st semester of college went by quickly, not leaving you much time to make friends or establish a social life in general, but you were determined to make the 2nd semester memorable. 

You decided to join a study group that met regularly at the library. It’s pretty early in the new year, so you didn’t expect many people to show up, so you tried not to get your hopes up. The chilly air outside made you walk a little faster up the concrete stairs. Taking a deep breath to calm your heart rate, you reach for the grand wooden door to the library. Finding the meeting room wasn’t difficult, but what you didn’t expect was to be the only one there. So you wait a while, pulling out your books and holding out hope. You weren’t banking on any more surprises, but wow you’re about to be in for a real treat.

Daichi peers in through the door window to the meeting room only to see the back of a girl's head. He sighs, I’ve probably got the wrong room, but decides to check with her just in case.

He cracks open the door, “Excuse me, is this the… uhhh…” You turned your head toward the male, your (h/c) hair whipping around with it. Both of you do a bit of a double take, eyes widening in recognition.

“You- you’re Daichi, right?” You asked, your eyes bright with silent excitement and cheeks getting pinker by the second.

“Ah yeah, hey! Y/n?” He responds, scratching the back of his head with his own dimpled smile.

You smile wider at his remembrance, “That’s me!” You both turn to look around the room, unsure what to do next. You decide to add, “But apparently it’s just me,” you laugh a little, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be showing up anytime soon either, sorry.” 

“I don’t mind!” He says a bit too eagerly. “I mean, um. I was honestly just looking for someone to hangout with anyways.” He straightens up, doing his best to be honest about his appearance.

“Ah, me too actually. I had a long semester and I still don’t really… know anybody.” You tilt your head cutely, but you can’t help but sound a little down about it.

Daichi just nods in understanding. “It hasn’t exactly been eventful for me either. Sugawara and Asahi are both at different universities, so it’s odd not knowing anyone at all.” You sigh and nod back.

He takes a moment to think, face getting a little flushed at his idea. There’s a coffee shop a couple blocks off of campus… and judging by the lack of faces, there won’t be a meeting here today.

“Hey, y/n, would you want to maybe walk to get a coffee with me? My treat of course.” He offers while adjusting the sleeves of his black, fuzzy jacket, doing his best to hide any hint of nervousness in his voice.

Your heart starts to beat faster. It’s not a date. It’s not a date. It’s not a date… but wait it kinda is? I mean he’s paying? 

You let yourself stare off for a moment too long without saying anything and Daichi puts a hand behind his head, with an apologetic look. “Hey, no worries if you don’t want to, just thought I’d offer. I feel like we might have some stuff in common.”

“No, no, I’d love to! Really. Just let me pack up my books and we can get going.” You turn to pack up your book bag, collecting the papers you let loose and gathering stray pens. Daichi waits patiently in the doorway, secretly freaking out a little that you actually want to go get coffee with him??

You both make your way out of the room, back out the door, and onto the brick path toward the cafe.

One look at you and Daichi can tell that you’re shivering from the biting wind chill. “Are you gonna be okay, y/n? You look cold.”

“A-ah no I’m okay, j- just kind of chilly.” Your teeth chatter through the entire sentence, all of your lying creds dropping way down. 

Before you can stop him, Daichi is shaking off his big, cozy jacket, grabbing your book bag from you, and placing the coat over your shoulders.

It’s warm… and smells warm too? If warm and snug were a scent, it would be Daichi, you decide.

Meanwhile Daichi is doing his best to hide a smirk at how smooth that was. Thank you, wind god, he acknowledges soundlessly.

As you both make your way to the road, he stretches out his arm, offering you something to link your own arm onto.

You take it gratefully. You begin to relax as you fall into rhythm with his own footsteps and begin to make conversation.

“You know, I remember you pretty well. I would go to a lot of Karasuno’s games. You really are talented, Daichi.” He turns his head down toward you, his short black hair getting ruffled by the wind and a sweet grin forming on his face.

“I remember! You were kinda loud actually.” He chuckles and you elbow him gently followed by a feigned indignant, “Hey, rude!” Then joining him with a giggle that makes him go oh so soft. 

“But really, y/n, you encouraged us… me, a whole lot back then. I really appreciated the support.” You flash him a grin, “That’s what I’m here for.” You reply.

Despite his nerves, Daichi feels brave for a moment, choosing to be honest, “Y’know I meant to speak to you more then. I just wasn’t sure how… something about highschool really screws with your head, y’know? It’s easy to get caught up in everyone else’s business.” He sighs, attempting to sound thoughtful, but he’s entirely focused on your response.

You look ahead, stepping up to the next crosswalk, making sure to watch your step before commenting.

“Same here. I really… just didn’t want to get in your way.” You explain.

He looks back down to you questioningly, inviting further comment.

“I can tell how much you loved the team.” You smile warmly, looking down at your feet as they hit the pavement. “And I loved watching how seriously you all took the games. I felt like I might’ve been intruding.”

“It’s not intrusive to start a conversation y’know.” You’re one to talk, he shoots back at himself.

You both approach the coffee shop, he lets you walk in first, taking the jacket off your shoulders as soon as y’all find a seat. He asks for your coffee order and walks up to order while you get comfortable at the shiny, wooden table. Cute atmosphere, white ceramic mugs, and a sweet date? This might just be my new place. You nod to yourself.

Daichi, looking really smart in a brown wool sweater and black jeans, makes his way back to the table with your and his coffee. Once he gets himself settled, you continue where you left off. 

Coffee in hand, it was time to subtly shoot your shot.

“I didn’t start a conversation with you because I wanted you to be able to focus completely on what you love. Daichi, I really liked you. How could I get in the way of what you’re so passionate about?”

His mouth slightly agape, he lets himself get slightly flustered. Wow, she got to it before I did… wait a second??? She actually did... does like me? Am I an idiot?

“W-wait really?” He stammers, then attempts to compose himself.

“I mean, same here. I, uh, liked you a lot. I just thought you would find someone before I could say anything… and I… guess I didn’t want to totally shatter my ego.” He says candidly, placing a hand on the side of his flushed face, squishing it slightly.

You laugh a little at his honesty, but you’re blushing now too.

“So do you still, y’know- are you interested in making this a regular thing? I just want to get to know you better, really.” He expresses with a genuine sweetness you’d never encountered in a guy before. “I know it’s been awhile since then, but I think it’d be fun.”

“Yeah, let's take it slow, but I would love that.'' You gift him with your most charming smile, brushing a stray hair away from the front of your face.

“So tell me about more yourself…”

#daichi x you #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #ask #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #hq headcanons #hq fanfic #hq #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi headcanon #sneezefiction

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 15

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,900

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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

George was jolted out of her unconsciousness by dropping face first down on the pine needle covered ground. Letting out a startled, painful groan she lay still for a moment, trying to pull herself out of her stupor and gather her bearings. The atmosphere was chilly and caused goosebumps on her skin, so she knew she was outside still. From listening, she could tell that there were multiple people in the same area as her; presumably more of her captures. While she could hear the faint sounds of people talking, she couldn't discern what they were saying.

She thought she heard a strained, quiet voice nearby speak to her, "George? Is that you?"

Quickly scanning for injuries, she began at her toes and mentally swept her body for pain. From being tossed on the ground like a ragdoll, her left arm and hip were painfully sore and bruised, her left cheek was sliced open under her eye, and her bottom lip was split from hitting her teeth on impact. She began to slowly pick herself up off the ground, spitting blood out as it pooled unpleasantly in her mouth. Without opening her eyes, she leaned herself up against the tree she'd landed near. Her head was throbbing and her body was sore. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to find something to focus on to prevent passing out.

She heard the faint voice again, "George, are you OK? Can you hear me?"

"I'm getting there," She replied slowly. She'd chosen a picnic table about 15 yards away, across a circular clearing in the woods, to focus on and it was starting to work. When she finally only saw one, stationary table, she began allowing herself to consider her peripheral.

She saw that she was against a tree at the edge of a small circular clearing attached to a trail that led off into the woods in either direction. There were a few picnic tables in the area, an unused fire pit, and nothing else but trees around. At one of the picnic tables she saw a small group of decidedly boring looking people, all dressed head to toe in white, gathered around, talking in hushed tones. She noticed the woman from earlier--Duma--walking quickly away from her, toward the grouping. George still hadn't remembered if she was angel, demon, or other but from watching the show she knew it truly didn't matter; she was most likely in serious danger either way.

It was a few minutes before she remembered the voice coming from next to her and turned her head to find a familiar, smooth, 90s-male-model face staring back at her. Jack was about five feet away, also leaning up against a tree trunk. When she made eye contact, he smiled weakly, a peculiar look on his face.

"Jack!" She grinned, elated that she'd found him, as the pounding in her head eased.

"George. How did you get here?" He asked, curiously. He tried to sit up more, excited to see her, and that's when she noticed he was badly injured. From what she could see, he had a large gash on the right side of his head, his ear was covered in blood from it. His ankle looked swollen and purple, possibly broken, and the whole bottom half of his shirt was soaked from blood pouring out of a stab wound in his gut.

"Jesus Christ, Jack! What happened?!" She forced herself onto her hands and knees with a soft groan of pain and crawled the short distance to him.

"Just the usual angel hospitality," he replied weakly.

"Angels; figures. OK, Jack, you've lost a lot of blood but I need you to stay awake and focus on helping me stop the bleeding. Sam and Dean are on their way--"

"Sam and Dean are with you?" At the mention of their name, he grabbed her arm and held on tight, giving her a desperate look.

"Of course," she assured, suddenly having to swallow back tears as a rush of emotions hit her. Gently removing his hand from her arm and looking him in the eyes, she promised, "They're coming to get you, okay? We just have to try and stop the bleeding 'till they get here, that's all." She quickly yanked her Friends hoodie off, ignoring the chill that consumed her as soon as she did, and pressed it gently but firmly against his stomach wound. He let out a strangled yell and she shushed him softly.

"It's okay, you'll be okay. Dean and Sam are coming." Quickly, I hope, she added in her head.

He did not look good and she wasn't sure what to do other than apply pressure. She looked around the area futilely, knowing there was really nothing out in the middle of the redwoods she could use to help him in this situation. She froze when she noticed the group of angels staring at her intently.

"Oh, great," she muttered when one of them began walking toward her and Jack. "Don't move!" She held him down when he started trying to get up as the man approached.

"Run!" He begged with hushed urgency.

"I'm not leaving you, you nut." She grabbed his limp, cold hand and placed it on the sweater-turned-bandage pressed against his wound. "Focus, Jack. Try to put pressure on this, okay? Hey, focus!" She could tell he was in trouble. Once she got him to hold the sweater, she stood up slowly, facing the man who'd walked over. She prayed she didn't seem as nervous as she definitely was.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" She spat out uncontrollably at the smug look on the angel's face.

"Sorry about that. He struggled a bit and… well, as you humans like to say, accidents happen." The arrogant, coiffed angel stopped six feet from her and smiled. It was a fake, customer service smile that nowhere near reached his eyes, which were wide and frighteningly blank of emotion. He was about 5'11, had heavily gelled, short, black hair and a thin, perfectly shaped mustache, with tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. His stark white business suit was crisp and fashionable. "Would you like me to heal him for you?" He offered with a hint of sarcasm.

"Do not touch him." She took a shaky step toward him and tried to puff herself up a little, taking up space and making sure she was standing as much between him and Jack as she could.

"It seems my colleague was right, you certainly are an interesting… what exactly are you?" He inquired, looking her up and down.

"If you say so. But he may not have much time." He was far too happy about that and she sneered at him. She just needed to stall long enough for Sam and Dean to find them. The place had a familiar feel and with all the picnic tables and the clearly defined path, she had to assume they were still at the Trees of Enigma attraction; it couldn't be long before the brother's were able to track Jack down as they'd started to do before she got kidnapped.

"Oh you angels are real subtle with the judgement. Sorry, I'm not dressed as fancily as you, pretty boy," She crossed her arms.

"It hasn't nothing to do with the way you look, you ignorant ape," his fake initial kindness was fading fast. "I can't sense you. Why not?"

"Uh, maybe because sensing people is really fucking creepy? If any of these other angels were really your friend, they'd tell you that."

"Now you listen to me," the angel seemed a bit irritated now, and began walking briskly toward her. She stumbled several steps back before his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat. As he lifted her barely off the ground. "I'm not here for your entertainment, child. Tell me what you are and why you're here with the Winchesters before I kill you."

Ok, make that a lot irritated. George gasped for air and clawed at his arm, trying to choke out an answer. When he couldn't understand her, he set her down and momentarily loosened his grip.

"Yes?" He asked patiently.

"My… my name-" She coughed and gulped in air. He allowed her to wrench out of his grip and she bent at the waist. Waiting until she could get a slow and steady flow of air, before looking up at him slowly, she said, "My name… is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, now prepare to die."

The angel huffed like an angry bull before back handing her so hard she fell to the ground, landing across Jack's outstretched legs. When he had no reaction to her body crashing on top of him, her neck snapped up and she saw he'd passed out.

"Jack!" She whispered nervously, trying to pull herself up. "Ah!" The angel grabbed a fistful of her long blonde hair and yanked up hard, preventing her from moving.

"Just so you know!" Everyone turned and looked at the voice that had just shouted at them from the west, 50 yards away. George visibly relaxed when she saw it was coming from Dean Winchester. "Whoever the fuck you are?"

Sam, who was close by near a tree trunk, slowly pointed a bloody finger directly at the angel who'd hit George and promised "You're gonna pay for that." He then slammed his hand down on the angel banishing sigil that was drawn in his blood on the trunk next to him. With a bright blinding blast of energy, the small cluster of angels was gone. George dropped back down, using her hands to catch herself. She, Jack, Sam, and Dean were the only ones left in the clearing.

"You GUYS!" George shouted. "He's hurt bad." Ignoring the white hot throbbing on the right side of her face, she'd crawled up to Jack's torso and pressed the fallen away sweatshirt back against his wound. It began drizzling as Sam and Dean sprinted toward them and came to a skid on their knees on either side of Jack. They both frantically began checking him over.

Sam happened to glance at George's wounds as he was maneuvering around Jack and instinctively reached out towards her in concern. She locked eyes with him and stopped him in his tracks, "Don't even think about it; he could die." She was absolutely right and he yanked his phone out of his pocket, dialing Castiel.

"He's lost a lot of blood, damnit!" Dean was seeing red; those angels were going to die if Jack did.

"He needs medical attention now. The nearest hospital is 20 minutes away and it's going to take us about that long to get to the car if we're lucky." Sam sounded scared but tried to keep it together. "And Castiel's not answering his phone!"

"He's so cold," George whimpered uncontrollably, her tears beginning to fall.

"It's just freezing out here!" Dean shouted in anger, and she could see his breath in the air for emphasis. George winced when she could hear the undeniable fear in his voice as well. If Dean was worried enough not to hide it, things were dire.

"What do we do?!" Sam nearly screamed, redialing Cas pointlessly once again.

George sat back on her heels and tried to think, but she could barely even breathe. Her stomach was twisting into nauseating knots and she felt her heart pounding. A panic attack was coming on, the intensity of which genuinely made her feel like her heart was going to explode. Her vision began to tunnel and she felt ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes so that she didn't fall over from dizziness and forced herself to take the deepest breath she possibly could. She held the breath for just a moment too long before a sharp pain in her chest caused her to release with a hiss.

Suddenly she knew where they should go.

"If you guys can get him to the car, I might know somewhere nearby we can try for help." The second George had said the words, she'd regretted it. They had almost no other choice, though, so she just prayed to whomever that they'd get lucky, just this once. Dean and Sam didn't need to be told twice. Bracing themselves in the now muddy ground, they picked Jack up gently, one brother at either end of him.

They had prepared themselves to begin the long and arduous trek back toward the car, yet when they rounded their first corner they found themselves standing in front of the emergency exit, which just so happened to lead them to the end of the parking lot closest to where they'd parked. It nearly stopped them all in their tracks but they knew Jack had very little time to survive, so they launched themselves out of the gate and across the asphalt about 50 feet to their parked car. Luckily the park closed an hour ago, so there was no one around to see the two men carrying a half dead person and a beat up George following fast behind.

When they reached the car, Sam got in the backseat with Jack carefully. George tore into the passenger's side knees first, in order to face them and help hold pressure on his stomach wound. Dean jumped in the driver's seat and roared the engine on.

"Nice job with the tire," Dean practically shouted in appreciation at her as he peeled out of the parking lot, headed in the direction she ordered.

"Be careful, Dean, it's still a donut!" Sam warned angrily.

They'd just pulled out onto the highway and Dean was gunning it, "How far?"

"Not far at all, slow down! Take the exit up ahead, to the left." She gestured in the general direction.

"Rosewood?"

"Yeah. Then take the second right. Third house, at the end of the court." In two minutes Dean had screeched the Impala to a halt in front of a large home on half an acre in Klamath. George almost cried with relief when she saw the small, stout woman with reddish blonde hair standing out front in her garden watering the plants.

"Aunt Lorna!" She leapt from the car and ran over to her, throwing her arms around the stunned woman before she could stop herself. "My God, it's a miracle!"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The woman ripped herself away from George and took a few steps back, clutching the hose she'd had in her hand like a weapon. George kicked herself for scaring her and stepped back with her hands up.

"I'm sorry. You don't know me, obviously, but I know you. You're Lorna Iris, right? You're a nurse in Gibbousville? My friends and I need your help, one of them is hurt pretty bad."

"Worse than you?" The woman asked, looking over her bruised and bloodied face suspiciously.

"Much worse. He needs help and I don't think he'll make it to a hospital." By this time, Dean had pulled their medical supplies out of the car and was now helping Sam pull Jack out gently.

"Holy God," Lorna said, seeing the state he was in and taking a step toward him before pausing. She looked again at George. "Who are you?"

"Someone who needs your help. Please?" George begged.

Stacey, the cute library clerk, was standing in front of her, eyes cast downward. When she held her slender hands up in inquiry, George bit her lip, considering it for a moment before eventually nodding slowly. The beautiful bookworm stepped closer and gently placed her cool, silky smooth hands up under George's breasts. After attempting to cup them and failing because of their size, Stacey decided instead to rub her hands in slow circles over the soft, pale globes.

Lorna stared at her for a moment before looking back at Jack's unconscious body and then to Sam and Dean who were both looking at her with pleading eyes. She let out an exasperated breath and then nodded, motioning for them to come inside. They went with her into the house while George grabbed their medical bag and followed close behind.

______

George was inside the small library office, sitting up on the desk, back straight, chest out. Her thumbs were hooked into the fabric of her white cotton bra and black henley shirt, raising them up to her throat.

George groaned a bit; her nipples hardened under Stacey's touch. She hadn't anticipated things going this far when she agreed to flashing, but Stacey was beautiful and charming, putting her at ease quickly. There was something incredibly erotic about the whole thing, so George closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the thrill.

Her eyes flew open again in surprise when she felt a sudden, dramatic drop in temperature as Stacey's hands disappeared. George could see her breath, like a lame dragon, as she gasped in air and goosebumps covered her body. Looking around frantically, she realized she was now kneeling on the ground in some brush at the bottom of a tall, bloody redwood tree. When she lowered her shirt, she noticed on the ground in front of her was Jack. He was deathly pale, his lips were blue, and there was a large pool of blood underneath him.

"Jack?!" She gasped, reaching down to him. His skin was freezing to the touch, causing her to shiver. There was so much blood, but she touched his neck to feel for a pulse anyway. Her eyes filled with tears when she couldn't find one and she sniffled, "Jack!"

George jumped and gasped loudly as Jack's hands suddenly darted up and wrapped tightly around her throat. His eyes flew open and emitted a bright white light. A loud shushing noise filled her ears and the sound of someone shouting behind plate glass was booming in the distance. George opened her mouth to scream but stopped when Jack's face began distorting, melting and swirling grotesquely.

"WherrrRE ARe youuu?" Came a garbled call from the general location of Jack's mouth. Suddenly the fingers on her throat tightened on her windpipe when she heard a beckoning, "Georgia! GEORGIA!"

"Georgia. Georgia!" Her eyes snapped open to see Sam gently shaking her awake.

Thankful to be out of her terrifying dream, George realized she must have accidentally passed out on the couch while the boys were helping Lorna work on Jack. They'd been lucky--once again--that Lorna happened to have a small store of helpful medical supplies in house to put Jack back together and stabilize him. She didn't have any blood bags on hand but she'd been able to provide fluids and meds to help his body relax and heal.

"Your turn," He ordered, then moved over so that Lorna could sit down in front of her.

"That's not necessary. I'm fine," George lied, shaking the fog of her nightmare away quickly. She actually hurt like hell all over, but it was mostly bumps and bruises; nothing some painkillers and time wouldn't heal eventually. The dream was bothering her more than her aches at the moment.

"You need stitches on your cheek and potentially some in your lip," Lorna wasn't one for bullshit and had a strong, authoritative presence. People listened to her because she always spoke like she knew exactly what she was talking about (and 99% of the time, she truly did). Lorna held out a glass and two pills, ordering, "Take two of these, turn your head to the left, and don't argue."

"Good luck with that." Sam teased, quietly. George shot him a dirty look and took the medicine and water glass from her alt-reality aunt's outstretched hand, downing them. She then turned her head to look out her aunt's large bay window into the murky darkness of the night.

"How's Jack?" She asked, straining her eyeballs to look between them as Lorna began examining and cleaning the cut on her cheek.

"He's stable but critical. I honestly didn't know if I could do much without some blood, which is what he really needs, but I got him leveled out at least. It'll probably be rough going for a few hours; the longer he makes it without coding, the better his chances of pulling through." She spoke with a kind, but matter of fact tone that one develops the longer they're a nurse.

"Thank God," George closed her eyes and allowed a few tears of relief to roll down her cheeks. Her alt-aunt kindly, yet nonchalantly wiped them away with a cotton ball and then gently turned her head back to facing forward. George could feel her cleaning the cut on her lip now and she took a deep breath to gather herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she was looking right into Sam's beautiful hazel green ones, which had been watching her with concern. Her cheeks burned red and more tears welled up. She felt she didn't deserve his concern. She'd risked Jack's life by telling that asshole angel not to heal him and having them come here: her aunt Lorna's home. In an alternate reality. There were a thousand different reasons why Lorna shouldn't have still been in the exact same house in this Supernatural reality. They'd gotten so, so lucky and it made George feel incredibly guilty.

Lorna finished cleaning and checking George's bloody lip, and explained, "good news is your lip won't need stitches. Bad news is it's gonna be irritated for a few days while it heals. Be careful when you eat that you don't bite the cut accidently because that would really hurt. Still need to stitch up that cheek." As she set to work giving George three small stitches, she also warned her and Sam that she really couldn't identify internal injuries this way and that they should go to a hospital ASAP to be safe. It was the exact same spiel she'd given Sam and Dean regarding Jack when she finished tending to him, so she knew it was falling on deaf ears but she had to try. She got up and left the room, leaving Sam and George alone for now.

"Sam, I'm so sorry." George put her head in her hands and a few more fat tears escaped.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He was incredibly confused at her reaction. She'd handled herself insanely well considering the situation and they might not have been able to save Jack without her.

"Jack was dying and I brought you to my aunt's house. My aunt, who is a person in real life and does not exist on Supernatural the television show!" She'd dropped her hands and looked up at him with an ashamed look on her face. Her words stung him, as though she didn't consider him a real person, but he began to understand why she was feeling so guilty.

"Except she does exist here, whether 'here' is a television show or somewhere else; you saw the article about the fire. Your grandparents died after she was born. So, she exists, just not as your aunt." From Sam's perspective, she'd saved Jack's life and without her, who knows what would have happened to him; death or worse if the angels had gotten a hold of him permanently.

George got up and started pacing. "But still as a nurse? With the same married last name? Living in the same house she's had since I was 8?" George shook her head, getting angrier with herself. "What is going on? No fucking way should this have worked and you know it, Sam. What was I thinking? He could have DIED!"

"You weren't thinking," Sam grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently and stopping her anxious motion. "It was a terrifying situation--for us all--and you acted on your instincts. And they turned out to be right." He tugged on her arms just enough to force her to look up at him and he said sincerely, "just like they have been since you got here."

"Damn right." Dean had entered the room, wiping the blood from his hands with a rag. When she turned toward him, he looked her right in the eye. "I just got off the phone with Cas. The whole thing in Montana had been a trap for me and Sam. The demons found the team before Cas got there. Suzie and Garth are in the hospital, but expected to recover. Carol's dead," Dean paused in a moment of respect for a fellow fallen hunter and then stuffed the dirty rag in his pocket and walked closer to her. "You were right about it being a trap. You were right about where to find Jack. And you were right about being able to change a tire." The tears she'd been shakily holding back fell all at once as she let out an emotional laugh and closed her eyes.

They popped open again in surprise as she felt thick, strong arms wrap tightly around her. She, herself, wasn't used to a lot of hugging and she never expected Dean would be very comfortable with it, but the whole thing felt weirdly natural to her. Hugging him back timidly, she drew a familial sense of comfort from him.

"Thank you," He breathed, allowing himself a rare moment of genuine gratitude. He pulled back out of the hug and gave her a playful slug on the shoulder. "So, stop beating yourself up; you saved him, George. And you got your ass kicked doing it. I promise you now, whoever that angel fuck is, he will pay for that." Sam nodded in agreement and George squirmed uncomfortably, not used to people looking out for her like this.

Before she could argue, Lorna came back into the room with a laundry basket full of bloody sheets and rags. "Listen folks, the main house is too small for you all to sleep here. So the three of you might as well set up shop in my converted garage apartment for the time being."

Sam moved over to her and took the basket from her hands, silently offering his assistance. "Thank you. What a gentleman." She gave him a look of careful consideration. She then turned back to address them all, "I usually AirBNB it but it's empty at the moment. There's only one bedroom upstairs but it has two beds and there's a pull out couch downstairs, so it should do nicely. Enough beds not to share but if you do, I just ask that you change and wash the sheets afterwards." The three of them shared a confused, yet amused look at her nonchalant instruction. "If one of you boys wants to move the recliners here into your friend's room, you can have something comfy to sit in while you hover." She pointed to the leather rocking chairs she had in her living room as an offering and then looked at Sam again, "laundry's this way, Hon. Let's go."

Sam followed her from the room with a nod and George and Dean grabbed one of the recliners together, moving it to Jack's room. When George finally turned to look at Jack for the first time, she winced and placed a hand over her mouth. He looked like a fake cadaver you'd see on some true crime show and it startled her. She held her breath until she was sure she could see his chest moving. She gently touched his hand and was thankful to feel warmth there, calming her paranoid mind. Her heart thumped in her chest and she started crying silently again. She was just so relieved he was alive.

"Why don't you go get some sleep and I'll take first watch?" Dean placed a gentle, supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"No," She said determinedly. She just needed to be around Jack right now to feel assured that everything was OK. And sleep was not anything she was interested in after her earlier dream. "I just had a catnap, I'm good. I'm gonna stay and watch over him for a while." She gave Dean a look that told him it was pointless to argue, so he went off in search of Sam and Lorna to be shown their temporary digs.

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic series #spn fanfiction

[shadowknight465]

Sons of the Moon

Is the warlock is evil as the legend said? If so then why do those things so that he can make my scythe?

Nightmare thought quietly while taking Dream to a road trip. He stop in surprise when he heard the cries of horses. He slowly turn his head to the sound, and saw the monstrous snail. "Moon,... you're being more quieter than usual; is something wrong?" Dream asked. "Lou Carcolh." Nightmare whispers. "Really? Let me see." Dream whispers as quietly as he could in excitement. The twins look the creature in awe. Both deciding they should camp here for tonight. Nightmare grab necessary items so they can make a smokeless fire. While Dream hunted a few animals and gather some berries. After they were done they went to hunt the largest bear they could, and use it's skin for a bed; while it's paws for pillows. Because they knew the creature takes life from any valley it could, they decide to camp in a cave. "Bonne nuit, lunaire." Dream whispers, as he is frightened by the desperate cries of the equestrians. "Bonne nuit, peu de soleil." Nightmare reply back. The dreams he had weren't as pleasant as he thought it would be. He keeps seeing so many people that reminded him of Dream turning into fire elemental-spider-like entities. He struggled to try to control his dreams when he woke up. Seeing Dream paralyzed, while looking sick to his stomach. "Is something wrong Dream?" Nightmare whispered. "I-I saw her.." Dream mutter under his breath. "Who?" Nightmare asked. "Les Lavandière..." Dream replied. "What?"

"I woke up feeling really thirsty and decided to take a drink from the river, and that's when I saw her..." Nightmare try to analyze the situation. "Who's clothes was she washing?" Nightmare asked firmly. Dream's eyes widen. "I only saw her eyes before she screamed." Realizing he forgot that one simple thing to do whenever he sees a ghost like her. "I'm sorry-"

"You're just terrified so don't be." Nightmare reminded him. The brothers comfort each other until they fall asleep on each other's arms.

~~~~~~~~

"Dream, The croissants are ready." Nightmare call his brother. No answer. "Dream?" Nightmare called out again while removing his apron. He then heard some laughing, and followed the sound of leaves shaking. Seeing a few of his bullies, and Dream on top of a tree. "DAYDREAMER! GET YOUR HIPBONE BACK DOWN RIGHT NOW!" Nightmare yelled with a hint of worried in his voice.

"Daydreamer?" He overheard a bully. "Its what my brother calls me when I'm in deep trouble, or if he's worried." Dream answered. " Daydreamer." Nightmare calls again. "I got to go, see ya." Dream told everyone goodbye. "Is something wrong?" Dream walk towards him. "Breakfast." Nightmare answered. Dream got confused there's only remembers he skipped breakfast. " OH! Breakfast; what are we having?" Dream asked. "Croissants; with a new recipe." Nightmare replied as they went back. Dream took a look at the croissants, and noticed some brown stuff. "Cinnamon?" Dream asked. Nightmare shook his skull as he began eating. Dream took a bite. "Chocolate."

Nightmare nodded. As the twins were eating, Dream say something that was almost out of his character. "You know sometimes I think these chocolate croissant you made remind me at the moon."

"Because of the crescent shape?" Nightmare guessed. "That and itself."

"Hmm?"

"On the outside the moon may seem beautiful, yet plain; but if you break them you can see some dark secrets it's been hiding." Dream explains. Not knowing it made Nightmare feel guilty about giving him a amnesia spell. Plus some worrying? Maybe he's just over analyzing. "Moon, are you ok?" Dream snapped out Nightmare's thoughts. "Y-Yeah just doze off for a bit." Nightmare reply." Then again, Dream did beg Nightmare to give him that amnesia spell since no one else can do it for some reason. "Before I forget. A friend of mine is going to labor, and she asked me to see her baby, and the trip is a day away from here, plus 10 by catching up to do; so you think you can take care of the tree on your own?" Dream asked. Nightmare nodded. Knowing this is a perfect opportunity to go out at night without being question. "Sure. Just grab what you need, and I'll give you a navigation book. This time with guides." Nightmare replies. " I am not going to go till tomorrow, so I think I have some time for us to have a conversation." Dream said.

Nightmare thought about the 200 year old urban legend. How is scared of him and Dream at the same time, yet none of them said their thoughts about it.

"Remember that 200 year old urban legend? With the half demon half heroes being massacred?" Nightmare started the conversation. His first time doing that actually. "It send me chills every time I think about it, why?"

"Well it's because I've been trying to find what gender is that moon demon character is. I mean I get that the moon demon is born a girl, yet she wants to be a boy so should we regress her or him as his/her preferred gender?" Nightmare dance around the truth while trying to see if Dream also sees Moon as a boy. Even if the Moon wasn't born one. "Thank God, you were also thinking about that." Dream expresses relief.

"I thought I was the only one who thought of about that." He later explains. He took a sip of his tea. "Personally I think we should address Moon as a boy. Because if it makes him uncomfortable being a dress as a girl, then address him as a boy." Nightmare smiles. "Do you remember the other eleven urban legends where the main character is basically suffering the same thing?"

"If those characters were still alive today I want to address them as what they want to be, and maybe try to get all of them to be your friends."

"Hm?"

Dream put his cup aside. "Do you remember the stories you tell me? All of them are basically outcast just like you are; so I thought birds of a feather flock together in a way?" Dream tries his hardest to explain.

"What about the girl that had a crush on Moon? Better yet all those people that seems to be their only friends?"

Nightmare asked. Both of them knowing full well that he was referring to all 11 urban legends embodiments of evil, being outcast, for them to be scapegoats.

Dream fell silent.

Did I upset him?"

Nightmare thought. "Dream?"

Dream woke up from his trance. "Sorry, it's just... all of them are extremely toxic, or abusive in some form to those poor scapegoats; and yet for some reason I see their reasonings while feeling connected to them-don't get me wrong I'm very angry about what they done to their friend. I just wish that they could've done better." Dream answered holding his cup hastily. Nightmare thought of the 11 victims, and wonder if they're all connected somehow until.

"EKK!" Dream yelled. Nightmare realized he was in a trance again, and ran went to see the problem. "What is it?" Nightmare asked. Dream pointed at a orange golden spider that's as big as his hand on his bed. Nightmare took a closer look at it to see what kind of spider is it, so he can be sure if it's venomous, or not. Surprisingly it's not the spiders he ever read about. Nightmare knew that he has to take a risk, but he needs more information. Nightmare walk towards, and cupped the spider with his hands. No reaction.

Maybe it's dead?

Nightmare use his thumbs to rub the spider's adamant, and felt a warm beating heart. He knows he'll look crazy in front of his brother, but it's worth a try.

"Hey little guy, what's wrong?" Nightmare asked while placing it down on a desktop. The spider makes a web with the words. "My friend needs help."

Nightmare took a seat along with Dream.

"Where is your friend?" Dream asked. Spider rearrange his web. "At the fountain the giants got him." The twins look each other, then remember the new fountain.

Nightmare grabbed the spider, and place it on his shoulder. Lucky for them the bullies got away. However they didn't expect an octopus to be spider's friend. The octopus was a pretty sight to behold. Purely black with cyan colors on both the shining pattern and underneath it's tentacles.

The twins took a strong look at each other, then back at the friends.

"Dream, I need you to grab the biggest bowl we have." Dream nodded, and came back with a big bowl of salt water. The two later found a river full of sea water, and placed the octopus there. With the spider crawling on top of it. Sitting itself down like a crown as they dragged themselves to the sea.

"Kind of reminds me of us." Dream said. Nightmare turn to him. "You the octopus, and me the spider." Dream explains. Nightmare roll his eye-lights as the two went home.

~~~~~

Well, this is it.

Nightmare thought as he was about to leave his home. Nightmare walked out of the village, and ring the bell to grab a wagon. Not surprisingly when the wagon arrive. The carrier, and the passengers looked at him distastefully. Nightmare got on, and kept both his hands and his feet to himself feeling awkward every situation. He can feel the horrible whispers turned into judgmental eyes.

"Where do you want to go, demon?" The Carrier asked. "T-To the ruins of the celestial heroes."  Nightmare hastily answered. "Aren't celestial heroes part demon?" A passenger asked. "Why would you want to go there?" Another asked. "W-Well.. I wish to exercise the ruins. Even ghosts of demons need peace, right?" The others turned away. Nightmare felt like an idiot. The journey went on with an awkward silence until his stop. When he got off he noticed someone. However the little shadow disappeared into the ruins. He trying to catch up, but ended up losing it. He then heard a a owl's hoot follow by the sound of purrs. He look behind him, and saw the skeleton of a griffin purring at his legs. "Hey little girl what's your name?" He asked the Feline-Strigiform. Only to find a collar with a crescent moon, yet no name.

I guess, I could let the griffin follow me.

Nightmare took a deep breath as he walked towards that very ruins seeing a gallery of weapons with astrology signs in the carving on top of the room they were in. From the mercury bow and arrow to the Magic stuff of Pluto. Then he heard a voice. He turned and saw what could be a female ghost in the Mercury room crying. Nightmare then glance at the other rooms seeing more girls in their respected rooms. All have shown some parts of mutilation and hollow eyes. Their skin is like death it's self some were rotting with maggots and other bugs.

This must be the ghosts of the demons-heros.

He thought. He's not sure if he should feel happy or more scared when none of them said a word to him. Just staring. A few tried to look away from him. Because no one else is around and he's near the end of the hallway he felt like it's appropriate to talk a little.

"Are all of you really the ghosts of the demon-heros?"

"Yes?" One responded.

"Well let me just say.." Nightmare put his supplies down.

"You cunts got what do you deserved."

Then he heard the sound of giggling. Nightmare quickly turn around, and saw a young girl with purple yet Silveriest-white hair gradient, and the heaviest violet eyes he ever seen. Wearing a witch apprentice clothing. "You must be him." The girl said revealing her skeleton hands.

Nightmare look at her hands, then back at her. "Pardon me if I'm rude, but who are you?"

The girl blush in embarrassment. "Right, I'm sorry. My name is Hecate." She said. "I am his apprentice. Though between you and me; he's more like a dad." Nightmare nodded. "Can you lead me the way?" Hecate blush again. "Why do I always forget?" He heard her whispering to herself. As they begin walking Nightmare felt like he needs more answers. "So how old are you when you started working for him?" Hecate scratch her head. "To tell you the truth, i'm not sure. Maybe 2 1/2 years? Because all I remember him offering to teach me when I was 10." Hecate turn to Nightmare.

"Why are you so interested in that?"

"Because I always thought there's an age limit when it comes to apprenticeship."

Hecate nodded. "By the way,

why are you interested in necromancy? And how do you found Moon."

Hecate uncomfortably chuckled. "It's a long story. Plus he was the only family I had ever since my parents were murdered when I was just a baby." She answered. Nightmare nodded understandably, and took a look at the night sky noticing it's changed purple.

Nerco magic?

He thought. "We're here." Nightmare return his focus to the lunar scythe. The legend said that the scythe was silver, not black. Nevertheless he tried to walked towards the scythe when he heard. "You were supposed to wait for him." Nightmare turn around and saw another person standing next to Hecate.

The person almost black and white, except for should been his eyes, and parts of his hair, and appears to be missing arm replaced with what he has assume to be a magic-prosthetic version of it.

Nightmare gulped, and proceeded to ask for his name. "The name's Nox. I was an experiment partly created by W. D Gaster to travel worlds, unfortunately I got stuck in this one." "Quit it Nox, you're scaring him." He turn back to the scythe, and saw a ghost with a large wound on his chest before he turned into a person of the night. "Are you the warlock?" Nightmare asked. The warlock nodded. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but do do realize there's a little girl here right?" Nox cuts the conversation short. The warlock looks at Hecate, and transform to what he might have looked like in life.

"Anyway, without further interruption I guess we should get started-"

"Wait."

The warlock raise his only eyebrow. "Should we start introducing ourselves?" Nightmare suggested.

"Hmm.. I suppose we could do that first." The warlock snap his fingers revealing the room they were in is a graveyard. "Um..My name is Nightmare." He introduce himself. "Moon." Moon reply. Moon then chuckled. "At first I thought you were Nim reincarnated."

"Why would you think that?" Nightmare asked. "Because I taught her the reincarnation spell. One of my best students truly, but isn't willing to work under my wing."

"Um..what does she look like?" Nightmare asked suspiciously feeling uncomfortable.

"Aside from her clothes. Just a tree spirit with green skin, darker green hair, and a little cute tree branch on her forehead."

"That's my mom." Nightmare could easily see Moon blushed in embarrassment.

"Anyways before you can get your scythe I need you to do this small favor for the moon."

"And that is?"

"Stop the sun's children before they hurt another innocent soul."

"Are you suggesting me too..?"

"Yes, kill them."

"Why couldn't you do it?"

"My friend, I am bound to my scythe."

"Oh." Nightmare chuckle at forgetting that last part of the legend.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Aren't you already asking me a lot of questions?" Moon questioned Nightmare.

"Right.. anyways how can you talk to the moon, and are there others like us?"

"We are the moon's sons call the Lunarians, and yes there are ten more."

"Are there also Solarians?"

"They're called Solarite."

"Every Lunarian has at least one Solarite. However unlike us the Solarites contain every color of the dawn in the sun so this might help you get started on your mission. Anymore questions?"

"No, in fact I am completely satisfied that I got all of my questions answered. But so you're expecting more then what does a little light orb things that appears when I'm alone?"

Moon smiled. "Those are the little Astros, citizens of both the Sun and Moon Empire." Moon summon a base of Nightmare's scythe. "It will be done in 12 days. You can use this time to find and eliminate the Solarites. However it won't be easy."

"12 days?"

"Yes, and the moon asked me to give you some gifts. Most of them are from the Moon, but this one is from me."

"And that is?"

"Temporary Immortality. And it's not what you think it is."

"You mean I can get hurt?"

"Yes, as well every time you appear to be dead you're just in a deep sleep for a few hours."

"That doesn't sound like anything in the books I read."

"Magic always has a price to pay."  Moon reply.

"But first just know that they can't be killed with just any weapon. They can be killed by our scythes. And the book the Astros gave you is a bit outdated."

"What-"

"There's actually 12 realms of hell. One is controlled by three queens."

"Oh. But my scythe-"

"You can use mine. Temporary of course. Nox."

Nightmare turned to Nox, and can tell that he doesn't like the idea of giving the scythe to him. Nevertheless it seems he agreed on it. As soon as Nox had it over Nightmare was blinded by a beaming white.

"It has been done."

Nightmare rubs his eye-lights realizing that the scythe is missing, then look up to see Moon smiling. "You know out of all the lunarians you seem to be the only one that has both his eyes-"

"Actually my right eye-light is fake." Nightmare then proceeds to take it off. "See?"

Moon stared at the fake light for a while then back at Nightmare. "Also I really like your Griffin. Is it the same one back when you were alive?" Nightmare asked. "What are you talking about? I don't have a griffin back then. Though I did have a memory of seeing a dead Griffin. Come to think of it I don't remember any happiest memories back when I was alive." Nightmare felt like he should've brought Dream along. "But let bygones be bygones." Moon offered Nightmare to shake his hand. Nightmare proceeded, and felt something off about it then remembered Dream. "You're not fooling me with your gloves."

"Hm?"

"My brother basically wore gloves all the time so I know you have a skeleton hand as well." Nightmare explains now fully knowing the full costs of necromancy. Moon took off his glove revealing a similar hand like Hecate's, yet Nightmare doesn't feel any fear. Just comfort. "By the way do you have a spare book that will teach you how to read? I want to give it to my brother before he goes on a trip."

Moon nodded, and summoned a copy of that book. From the alphabet sounding to words sounding. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

~~~~~

Should I tell him the truth about his friend, and what they really are when his back is turned?

Nightmare thought as he watch his brother packing. He tried making the visions appear to him, but it didn't work for some reason. He took a deep breath, and made up his mind.

"Hey Dream, there's something I need to tell you about your friends."

"Hm?" Dream turned. "You see whenever you're not around, and I'm left alone with them they are a bit hostile." He explains. "What do you mean?"

"I mean they would attack me, and rarely torture me. Calling me horrible names, and tells me to kill myself." Nightmare hold back his tears. Reliving the memories is worse, than him being there. "Are you telling me that I shouldn't go?"  Dream questioned his brother. "No, I mean- It's your decision if you want to go or not.  I'm not forcing you to stay, but i'm not gonna force you to leave either." Nightmare explains. Dream put down his belongings, and went up to Nightmare. "I'll try to get them to stop while in the trip, OK?" Dream continue on. "And  I did have a new friend, and he recently lost his arm, his wife, and his son. So maybe you two can try to be friends."

Nightmare has his doubts, but he did had some comfort in his brother's words. " What's his name?" Nightmare asked. "Neil." Dream answered. The boys, then heard the whistle blowing. "Wait." Nightmare rush himself, and grab the book from the Moon. "Something for you to read."

"But I can't-" Dream looked at the book. "Does this teach you how to read?"

Nightmare nodded as The second whistle blows.

"I gotta go, goodbye." Dream said. As the golden twin ran to the cart to get to the boat Nightmare whispers to himself. "Goodbye."

#daybreak #dream!tale #uncorrupted nightmare #dream!sans #nightmare!sans #my art

[dontcallmecarrie]

Natasha's judgment is so off for a spy. Could we get insight as to how they're thinking? I know you wrote a chapter but maybe some backstory or such to explain why she dislikes Tony on principle? Why she's so quick to insult Maria and choose Steve? Is she caught up in the goodness and honestly Steve seems to project? Does her judgment on his decisions become biased bc she's used to reading ppl who mean harm not ppl who unintentionally/subconsciously harm? Does Steve make her feel like she's good

I’ll see what I can do to clarify this in-story, because odds are you’re not the only one who’s seeing it. Hopefully, though, at least some of my reasoning showed through.

Under the cut, because cue meta and you guys know how much I ramble when I get going:

There’s several factors to it all:

First and foremost, there’s the unreliable narrator thing to consider. 

JARVIS, for instance, hasn’t trusted her since before she stabbed Tony in the neck, back in IM2. 

Add to that how he died trying to protect Tony [and at least managed to give a bit of a warning, when the Penthouse Incident happened], coming back online [with all the trauma that entails, even if he doesn’t quite show it], to see Natasha doing absolutely nothing while Tony was a flick of the wrist from a snapped neck, and you get a budding Skynet who harbors absolutely no goodwill towards Natasha Romanov [and it shows through in his POV, even if it’s hopefully subtle].

Tony’s slightly more chill, but he’s known that Natasha doesn’t like him, and after the disaster that was his sole attempt to reach out towards Bruce, well…once bitten, twice shy. 

Then, during the Penthouse Incident, he’s 50% on the defensive while the other 50% is in shock because JARVIS died and only Maria Hill even cared. [That he was being attacked was secondary, at that point.] So when someone’s attacking the only one who gives a damn about JARVIS, Tony’s not exactly feeling very charitable towards the woman who introduced herself as Natalie Rushman. 

…also, anyone notice the codependence going on between Tony and JARVIS? There’s a reason I’ve been warning for it.

As for my take on Natasha’s perspective: I did my best, and hopefully my dislike didn’t show [much]. 

Thing is, TWiFFON is a spitefic at heart.

I started it in reaction to the turn the fandom took when it comes to Tony Stark especially after Civil War, so I’m not going to be exactly very friendly towards Natasha [or anyone on Team Cap for that matter, if you guys haven’t already noticed]. 

And that leads me to the next point.

Fun fact: I actually like Natasha, for the most part. Her characterization throughout the entirety of the MCU’s been through the wringer, fluctuating from movie to movie, though, and I took advantage of that when I outlined this fic.

See, Phase1-and-pre-AoU!Natasha’s got a good head on her shoulders. Her, I like: she’s badass and loyal to people rather than institutions and ruthless enough to do what’s necessary to keep her people safe [gee doesn’t that sound familiar]. She’s outwitted Loki [even if he was under the influence of the Scepter at the time], and survived the Red Room, for crying out loud! [If you’ve read my fic idea Welcome to the Family, you know that’s the one I had in mind at the time of writing.]

…however, that’s not the Natasha we’ve seen recently.

Phase2-especially-post-AoU!Natasha didn’t think to call the genius who’s company she infiltrated during a time they could’ve really used his expertise, didn’t see the problem in letting the fugitives she’d been helping chase go, and didn’t think twice about attacking the Crown Prince of a monarchy that just lost its King. I know it’s probably just bad writing in general [where the hell did the Bruce/Natasha thing even come from? Or the wanting a kid thing?! Canon or not, that’s just…nope], but still.

She unironically tried to go “I’m not the one who should watch my back”, in Civil War, despite having painted a target on anyone she ever worked with [yes I’m still salty about it], so it really should be no surprise that this is the Natasha I have in mind when writing TWiFFON. [Not very nice, but like I said, spitefic.]

So, that’s a good chunk on my approach to Natasha, right there. The rest involves her backstory.

I’ve yet to read a comic, but via tumblr and Phase 1, I got the feeling that the Red Room isn’t exactly very kind. [No comment on Phase 2′s interpretation bc I hate AoU with a passion rivaled only by Civil War.] As such, I can extrapolate from there that Natasha’s had some hardcore training, and to be fair, she’s very good at what she does, and her confidence in her skills is mostly justified.

However, she’s been born and raised as a living weapon, a child soldier and spy: that skillset is not exactly conductive towards being an analyst, or tactician.

Infiltrate consulates and take out hit squads singlehandedly? Sure. Reading people for the short term so she can use that to her advantage? Absolutely. But what she gets up to later on in the MCU is nowhere in her job description [coughcough*analysisinIM2*cough]. She can make a decent facsimile of it, sure, but she just isn’t qualified to diagnose people [though I have a headcanon for that scenario that explains why, but that’s something for another post].

But she can read people very well, and since it’s worked thus far, Natasha doesn’t think twice about it. Due to the life she’s had, she doesn’t look back, which I completely understand because if she had she might’ve drowned in regret because I get the feeling the Red Room’s upbringing was nothing less than cutthroat. Those two things get a special mention because of how she’s introduced to Tony.

Now, let me backtrack a little: I’ve done some meta before on how good Tony is at masks, enough so that he’s fooling everyone even as he’s dying. He grew up in front of the cameras, and learned how to work them from a master of the art [his mom, in my AUs].

So, when a spy rocks up expecting a show, Tony puts it on, and Natasha buys it. I don’t doubt she twisted some things to suit the analysis at the end, of course, but between his public image and his masks, Natasha ends up falling in the same trap everyone else does.

Anyone who gets close to him knows it’s bull, but since Tony in TWiFFON is more guarded than ever before, and he’s not about to let Natasha in now.

As for Steve Rogers…Tony’s image is a general “everyone knows” thing; it’s subtle and low-key “oh what’s he done now? Another Fashion Week Fiasco?” Kardashian-style sort of thing, which is part of why Natasha fell for it. Steve’s image, on the other hand, was blatant propaganda since the start and only became more so over time […I wonder what the Second Red Scare would’ve looked like, in the MCU now, ngl], so for Natasha, with her Red Room upbringing, it’s pretty damn easy for her to tell. 

From when she first meets Steve, and later on down the road, it’s a no-brainer to look past the propaganda and notice the lonely man who’s adrift in a world that’s moved on without him. And from there, it’s very [almost scarily, for someone who’s very guarded when it comes to personal stuff] easy to make friends. 

Steve sees Natasha where others see the Black Widow, which isn’t something many people do [Phil and Clint’re the exception, not the norm], though, so it makes sense that she warms up to him so quickly. Plus he’s a good man, and given the life she’s had, Natasha can fully appreciate just how few of them there are in the world.

And since we’ve already established that Natasha’s fiercely protective of the few people she likes, it makes sense she’s just as fierce to attack if the situation ever arises.

During the Penthouse Incident, Natasha’s immediate take-away of the situation was: Tony’d fucked up somehow and needed to own up to it, meanwhile Maria Hill was on his payroll, defending him when he was in the wrong, and had a gun pointed in the general direction of the people she liked more than the people she didn’t. Of course Natasha was going to yell at her for it! 

And it wasn’t like Thor was going to hurt Tony or anything, his hand was obviously positioned in a way that was meant to be nonlethal and if he’d really wanted to kill Tony his grip would’ve been different.

After the fact, once Ultron’s made clear just what he is, she’s mildly apologetic about it. But since she didn’t really like Tony anyway and Maria Hill seemed to have forgotten about it, well, it wasn’t like it was anything major anyway, right?

...meanwhile, Maria’s very good at hiding her grudge and venting whenever she’s at one of the SWORD meet-ups while the others are patting her on the back while continuing to plan Phase 3 and checking out rich protocols, but that’s a story for another day.

Also: bear in mind that Natasha, in my AUs, has the Red Room’s version of the serum, so she forgets that not everyone’s as durable as she is. [that’s the only explanation for why I see her being so chill during That One Scene because the alternative’s incoherent internal screaming]

#behind the scenes #meta #if you're going to be evil might as well do it right meta #now the time is here for iron man to spread fear #if you're going to be evil might as well do it right #The War is Far From Over Now #Natasha Romanov #Headcanon #kinda #canon went screwy years back here's my attempt to fix it