#in my own personal secret good supernatural this is one of multiple moments that makes Sam realize how far off the deep end Dean is

[aziraphalalala]

She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes.

“So, he left you… for a job opportunity?”

“Nngggghhhyyeeaaaah, you could say that.”

“Well, good riddance. If he didn’t choose you, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He kind of does, you know.”

This snippet comes from my first ever fic, "In the bookshop, after". I promised I'd answer any asks with 500 words from anywhere on any fic I've written here, so, here we are. Author rambling meta, served piping hot, coming up!

Why did I write this fic?

This fic, albeit a short one-shot, was written in the emotional aftershock of *points finger at the last 15 minutes of Good Omens S2E6*.

The second season finally unleashed a burst of creativity and a desire to write in me that had been lying in wait for quite some time. Suddenly, I had so many ideas, and I needed to let it all out somehow. I drew. I sang. I wrote shitty poetry. I returned to tumblr to scream about Good Omens with everyone else.

Once I wrote this fic, it was like opening a Pandora's Box. I can no longer stop, nor do I want to. Writing gives me life. I enjoy it so much I am now writing a multi-chapter human AU fic which will end up being around 30,000 words. In less than 2 months.

It's crazy, and glorious.

Anyway, back to this snippet.

The characters, the dialogue, the context

This unnamed lady, who steps in to the bookshop as Crowley is slowly but steadily consuming quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol, has an uncanny way of picking up things she shouldn't be able to.

Crowley and the lady have a conversation which happens on multiple levels, especially for Crowley. He ends up being painfully honest, secure in his knowledge that most of it goes over the head of this random person.

We, the readers, are not sure whether that's truly the case. She appears rather unusually perceptive.

I have plans for that random person, and a whole backstory for her. I might write it one day. That fic would go a long way explaining her side of this conversation.

But for now, we don't really know her, and we leave it at that.

What was I thinking as I wrote this?

This moment, these lines, draw heavily from my own life. I, too, once imagined that love is an emotion that in itself can be enough for a relationship. Experience, sometimes harshly, has taught me that in the end, our actions and choices are more important than our intentions and emotions.

Does this person choose me? Do they prioritize my needs? Do they make an effort, day in day out, to make our relationship work?

This is the lesson the lady wishes to drill into Crowley. And if it were any other person in the world, a friend of mine for example, I'd tell them to move on. Good riddance. They don't choose you, they don't deserve you.

But. Aziraphale and Crowley have been friends, enemies and co-conspirators for six millennia. How does one even begin to define the complexities of their relationship?

Have they not, consistently, worked to keep each other safe, to find short moments together that they can share in secret?

Their relationship is a relationship that thrives despite being forbidden. Despite the fear that's ever present in their lives.

Some word choice trivia.

"Job opportunity" is a very purposeful choice, because it's a slightly revolting business jargon term. It's jarring, seeing it in the context of Good Omens and our two supernatural beings. It implies, heavily, that it's a bullshit opportunity, meaning it's not what it seems to be. It implies that the lady thinks Aziraphale made the stupidest choice on the planet for something that isn't worth it.

Crowley kinda agrees, but not whole-heartedly, because I believe he knows Aziraphale had very little choice in the end.

And, let's face it. Being an angel of Heaven is basically a shitty corporate job that sucks the life and soul out of you.

"He kind of does, you know." This is where the conversation really happens on a few different levels. Since Crowley understands why Aziraphale did what he did (at least in my head), he still has hope that they can be together, in the end. That they are, in fact, fighting the same fight, on the same side.

Finally.

I'll leave it to all of you to decide whether the lady truly knows what's up when we say "She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes."

Does she understand, think she understands, or do we misinterpret her expression? Again, how is she there? How can she just pick up the conversation, and so many details without being told?

One day I hope we'll find out.

Thanks for the ask, anon! This was fun. 😊

#fic asks #author meta #author rambles #author rambles about their fic #seriously won't anyone stop me #i can just go on like this if I please? #amazing #fanfic #my fanfic writing #my fanfic #my fanfiction #my fic writing #good omens #good omens fanfiction #in the bookshop after #lifting eden #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

[samgirlskeepwinning]

I just watched season nine’s “Alex Annie Alexis Ann” and upon hearing about Alex helping the vampires get victims the Winchesters, mostly Dean honestly, are all she can’t be trusted and maybe not even saved to Jody who disagrees.

Then later after the confrontation with the vampires they, mostly Sam this time, say they should apologize to Jody since she was right, but the show can’t even let Dean be wrong on this because immediately after Sam says that, she says they were right, she was compromised (none of these are exact quotes but they’re the jist of it)

So not only is Sam making apologies for Dean instead of Dean just admitting he was wrong, but Jody isn’t allowed to be right about a thing she was right about! This show makes me feral sometimes, just grrr bark snarl at the writers

#supernatural #sam winchester #jody mills #alex jones #my post #dean critical #spn critical #spn season nine #spn 09x19 #in my own personal secret good supernatural this is one of multiple moments that makes Sam realize how far off the deep end Dean is #it leads to him and Cas and Jack leaving Dean and just living their best life somewhere far away from him

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 25: Prima Materia

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Five Months Later

Friday, November 13th, 1998

“I can’t believe you,” Scully hisses as they exit Skinner’s office. “We’ve discussed this, Mulder. Multiple, no, countless times. You can’t just accuse someone of being a supernatural entity based off a… a wild hunch!”

“A hunch? Scully, we have concrete evidence. It’s literally documented in the folder you’re holding right now.”

“That ‘evidence’ is obviously subject to interpretation,” Scully retorts, stomping down the hall in an attempt to keep pace with Mulder’s long strides. “An interpretation I thought we’d agreed upon before going into that meeting. And I don’t appreciate you abandoning a solid hypothesis, that we discussed at length, in favor of whatever the hell that just was.”

Mulder stops outside the elevator, turning to her. “That was the truth, Scully. It’s out there, if you would just open your mind a little and accept that there are things science still can’t explain.”

“But science can-” She reaches out and punches the button for the elevator, “-explain it. You just like the sound of your own theories and ideas better than fact. Fox Mulder, the champion of truth, the only man willing to consider the extreme.”

“You know you like it,” he says in a low tone.

Scully’s eyes go wide, and she grabs his elbow. “Do not-”

The elevator doors open, and they scurry into the lift. Mulder presses the button for the basement.

“Do not use my weaknesses against me at work, Mulder, that’s not fair,” she says as the doors slide closed.

“Weaknesses?” Mulder asks casually. “Am I your weakness, Dr. Scully?”

“I’m serious. We’ve have a few close calls in the past few months; if we’re not careful, we’re going to be found out.”

“How, by arguing? We did that before we started fu-”

She gives him an imploring look.

“-working after hours,” he corrects. “Besides,” he continues, angling his chin downwards to reach her ear, “I happen to know arguing turns you on.”

Scully licks her upper lip. “I’m just saying we have to be more careful,” she insists, staring straight ahead.

“Then I guess this isn’t the best time to invite you out for a drink,” Mulder says.

Scully glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “It’s Friday the thirteenth,” she notes with a twinge of a smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky?”

Mulder shrugs as the elevator doors open into the basement. “Historically, the thirteenth is my lucky day.”

-

“You know, it’s been nine months since our first date,” Mulder says conversationally. They’d walked to Casey’s Bar from the Bureau and are now perched on stools at the far end of the counter, nursing a beer each.

Scully furrows her brow, obviously doing some quick mental math. “February… that was a date?” she says, somewhat amused. “You should have told me at the time. I wouldn’t have waited so long to put out.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows. “Dana,” he says in mock surprise. “I thought you were a good church girl.”

“What gave you that idea, my penchant for kneeling?” she mutters into her glass.

Fuck, she’s good.

They’ve been together for six months now, and it’s surprising how little has actually changed between them, in the practical sense. They’ve been pretty good at keeping their relationship a secret, Mulder thinks. It helps that everyone in the Bureau already thought they were crazy, codependent, and tanking their respective careers. Apparently, bad reputations make the best cover.

He and Scully arrive at the Hoover building in separate vehicles, squabble over conflicting viewpoints, have lunch together almost every day. He rests a hand on her back, guiding her through the halls, and she gives him withering glances and dramatic eye rolls when appropriate. From the outside, they’re still the same Mulder and Scully.

And then they go home to one of their respective apartments and tear each other’s clothes off.

Well, they usually make it home. That quickie in the office annex was an outlier.

Nine months seems significant somehow. The length of human gestation, Mulder thinks absently. It seems like a length of time worth celebrating.

“Would it be terribly corny of me to propose a toast?” he asks.

“A toast to what?”

He’s suddenly shy. “Us,” he says softly. “How far we’ve come. And how much,” he adds, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She rolls her eyes at him, and it feels overtly fond.

Scully lifts her glass. “To us,” she says warmly. “And to spooky shit.”

“You remember,” Mulder says as they clink glasses, recalling that first toast in Casey’s all those months ago.

“Mm,” she replies, sipping her beer. “I do. It was a… notable evening.”

“What made it notable for you?” he asks.

“We had an actual conversation, for one,” Scully muses. “About our personal lives, attraction, about how we relate to the outside world; and by extension, how we relate to each other. I remember very clearly feeling like we were close to something.”

“So did I,” Mulder admits. “So what happened, on your end?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “The spell wore off, maybe? When I got home that night I remembered all the reasons it would be a mistake to let myself feel. And then Mark happened, and you know the rest of that story.” She turns on her stool to face him more fully. “What happened for you?”

“I took you on a very cold, very dark picnic,” Mulder reminds her.

“Which was wonderful,” she offers.

Mulder nods. “But then when I asked you out again, you had a date. I don’t know, maybe I was going too slow, being too subtle. But when you started going out with that jackass it felt like… in a way, you were saying that what I had to give wasn’t enough.”

Scully doesn’t say anything, just stares down at her glass.

“And I realize that it’s selfish of me to project that onto you,” he amends. “Your choices aren’t about me. But fuck, I wished they were.”

“You’d be surprised how many of my choices actually were about you,” she says softly. “I surprise even myself. You told me before that you didn’t think I’d last a full year working with you, remember? There was validity in that. This job… it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. So much is at stake for us, so much has been taken. But I chose to continue because I believed in you, and in our work. We have different methods and come to different conclusions, but we’re working towards the same thing. That’s what I believe.”

He reaches over beneath the cover of the countertop and takes her hand, clasping it atop his knee. They sit in silence for awhile, taking sips of their drinks, palms pressed together.

The truth hides in many places, Mulder is learning. Places more secret and sacred than dusty file folders or abandoned warehouses, more mundane than the locked rooms of the Pentagon or trapped beneath thousands of years of ice. The greatest truths are scattered pieces he stumbles upon every day; reflected in his bathroom mirror, scribbled on post-it notes in their office, hidden under Scully’s warm tongue. He knows he’s an obsessed man, prone to irrationality and impulse; but in quiet moments with his partner, he finds small fragments of peace he never thought he could reach.

“Where are you?” Scully says softly, drawing him back into the present. A dim barroom, a sweating glass, her soft hand in his. He wonders if the day will come when his mind wanders too far for her to follow.

“I-I know how crazy this is going to sound, Scully but bear with me… do you ever think that we’re… that we’re bonded somehow? Like we were always supposed to end up here. Together.”

“Like here, here? In this bar?”

“Maybe. Maybe less specifically this bar and more generally this time and place on earth. This universe, this dimension. With each other.”

She shakes her head gently, smiling. “Mulder, it’s been a long week. If we’re going to talk about the metaphysical I need to either have more to drink or be under the influence of a postcoital surge of oxytocin.”

He leans closer to her. “Do you have a preference as to which, because I’d gladly provide either.”

Scully pushes her half-empty glass away from her, eyes dark and soft. “Take me home, Mulder,” she whispers.

His heart squeezes. “Will you stay?” The night, the rest of our lives, until our boat drifts over the edge of the earth?

She nods, and another piece of the truth slides into place.

#fmcr #my fic #fox mulder closet romantic #txf fic #xfiles #It Is Finished #oof #i need to lie down

[koo-zy]

hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!! 

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi 

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

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

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU 

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in 

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates​ Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

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

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss 

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

#jk2rec #jungkook: historical!au #jungkook: fantasy!au #historical!au #fantasy!au #inktae #kpopfanfictrash #fortunexkookie #littlemisskookie #gukyi #jimlingss #kinktae #luxekook #hayjeon #cupofteaguk #suhdays #1kook #junqkook #rubycoast #hansolmates #jamaisjoons #sugaxjpg #ktheist

[writing-gifts]

here’s the 6th part of the incubus!doppio AU!

im gonna start posting this on ao3 too (with some editing in the earlier chapters so you can check that out if you wanna)

list of parts

@wasabi-mommy @mistabrainr0t @the-average-mastermind

--------

“OW! What the hell--why’d you bite me so hard for!?”

You try to move your leg but Mutton blocks your way. Letting out a sigh, you stand in place and look down at the cat.

“What? What is the problem?”

He moves behind you and presses his head against the back of your calf hard enough to affect your balance. When you move your leg forward to stop yourself from falling, Mutton walks towards the door.

“Do you want me to let you out? But you just got here.”

The cat looks at you for a moment before placing his front paws on the door and stretching upward towards the knob.

Shaking your head, you walk over to the door. “I’m gonna get that cat door for you one day, I swear.”

Once it’s open, Mutton quickly circles your legs and pushes his head against them like before.

“Okay, okay I’m going!”

You walk out and the feline takes a few steps towards the forest ahead before turning to look back. His multicolored eyes stay locked on yours and you purse your lips when you realize what he wants.

“I guess I'm following you….”

After locking and closing the door, you walk after the cat as he continues into the forest. You wonder what exactly he’s so desperate to show you. Was this even normal behavior for cats? You weren't sure but you did know that Mutton was a little more on the intelligent side. Sometimes you even felt like he could even understand you.

So you go along with it, following a distance behind through what seems like endless trees and brush and fanning random insects out of your face. Fortunately, the weather was cool enough that you weren't sweating too.

However, the longer you walk, the more you fear that you might be lost. Trying to find your way back on your own would definitely make it worse though.

Just when you think you need to take a break, a body of water appears in the distance through the opening of the trees. When you and Mutton finally exit the packed foliage, you see that you’ve been led to a lake sitting in a giant clearing in the forest.

You stare a bit amazed at the size and notice a cabin near it a distance away. Mutton doesn't stop long to let you marvel at the scene though and continues towards the lake. You catch up to him and the both of you walk alongside the water.

“So do you know the person in the cabin?” You assume that’s where you're headed.

You didn’t expect a response, but Mutton merps to acknowledge you. You hum and your gaze quickly finds itself back on the lake. It was vast, going on so far you could barely see where it ended. The sky and trees reflect on its surface clearly and the water’s so still you almost feel like you can jump into the clouds if you want to.

Once the two of you are closer, you see that the brick and wood cabin was partially sitting on the grassy land behind it and partially on the water. You had also underestimated the size. Perhaps more than one person lived here?

Mutton leads you around the side of the house and stops to sit next to the front door. He looks up at you expectedly so you reach out to knock.

Several seconds pass before you hear the door being unlocked and when it opens, a handsome man with a neat, dark bob is revealed.

Unsure of what to do, you give a quick greeting and go quiet afterward. You didn't plan what to say when the door was answered, you just knew Mutton wanted you to knock.

Said cat walks into view, rubbing against the man’s leg as he walks into the house.

At that moment, realization seems to cross the man's face and he smiles at you.

“You must be the neighbor,” he says.

“Neighbor?”

“The person who lives in the house outside the forest. I saw someone moved in but never came around to introduce myself.”

"Oh, I had no idea anyone lived out here."

"That’s pretty much the reason why I’m out here.” The man moves to make room so you can walk inside. “Would you like to come in?"

You're a little hesitant since you just met but Mutton had no issue with it apparently. And the cat had actively been prepared to attack Diavolo for you on multiple occasions.

The moment you pass the threshold, you’re instantly awed. When you thought of cabins, simple and small came to mind. This one was neatly organized but it didn't give the homely vibe you’d expect.

The monochromatic room was spacious and decorated with nice looking furniture and curtains. The living area consisted of a fireplace surrounded by comfortable looking couches, and the stone wall above it held shelves that were crammed full of old looking books, various expensive looking decor and bottles. And to the right, closer to the back of the room sat a sizable dining set.

However what mostly grabs your eye is the fish tanks that were embedded in the walls throughout the room. At first you wonder why he had so many, but when you look closer you realize that they were not, in fact, separate tanks but a giant aquarium partially hidden within the walls.

Was the whole house like this? What type of cabin was this?

While you wonder where all the fish are, something twinkles in the corner of your eye. You turn to see what it is, but there’s nothing there.

So I'm imagining things now...

“--drink?”

You turn your attention to the man. "Sorry what was that?"

“I asked if you wanted anything to drink?”

You cross your arms and shake your head. “No I’m good…so do you know why Mutton led me here?”

The cat currently sits on the top of the back of one of the white couches.

“I actually needed to discuss something important with you, but I should introduce myself first. I'm Bruno Bucciarati--you can refer to me as either--and I'm a witch.”

You’re immediately skeptical. It wasn't unheard of, obviously, but you couldn't just believe whatever anyone told you. Bruno doesn’t look bothered by your dubiousness though.

“You're smart enough to not trust blindly. That’s good.” The man puts a finger to his chin. “You have a leaf on your shoulder.”

Before you can reach up to brush it off the man plucks it off you. Then just as quickly as he picked it off, the small green leaf begins to glow and transforms into a full flower.

You stare shocked trying to find any way to explain what you just saw. It was no trick of the eye either as the leaf’s form changed right before you into a completely different thing.

The man--no witch holds out the white rose and you gently take it.

“I--wow I just keep running into supernatural beings or something.”

"This forest does seem to attract them," he says.

Interesting…

You roll the flower stem between your fingers. “I’m ____ by the way.Uh, I don't know if you call him Mutton too--" You tilt your head in the direction of the feline. “--but is he your familiar or something?”

“No, he’s just a cat that likes to wander the forest. However, my familiar's over there though if you’re interested."

You get closer to the tank the witch pointed out to observe and even though you weren't exactly showing it, you were actually really excited and interested by the fact that you just met a witch.

At first you don't see anything in the huge tank other than greenery and a rocky cave ornament in the corner. But then something pops its head out of the opening. An eel that also managed to match the color scheme of the room. It was mostly white and covered in black patterns with yellow sprinkled in. It comes out of its hiding spot and swims back and forth as if it were stretching out it’s long body. Then it turns to you when it realizes that you're intently watching through the glass.

Your smile at it’s somewhat funny face and tilt your head a bit. The eel responds by tilting its own head, as if curious by your action.

"Holy crap. This is actually pretty cool! Do they talk?" you ask.

“Not really.” Bruno's smile falters. “But surprisingly Mutton does.”

“Huh?” You snicker a bit thinking the witch is joking but see that there’s no sign that he is on his face.

You look over at the cat and he stares back unblinking before glancing at Bruno.

"....I thought we weren't going to tell them."

Your heart almost jumps into your throat. “W-What?”

Bruno hums. “I thought about it and decided there's no point keeping it secret any longer. The incubus already knows. So it would only be a matter of time before he said something."

You're still reeling from Mutton talking that you almost missed what Bruno said.

“Hold on...Wait. Incubus? Are you talking about Doppio?” you ask the witch.

“Yes.”

You squint confused. “He knew and he didn't say anything? How long ago did he find out?"

"About a week," Mutton says.

"It might have benefited him in some way but I'm not sure why he didn't say anything," Bruno adds.

You exhale, somehow already on the verge of irritation with...everyone. Doppio was usually open with you, but apparently he thought this was a good thing not to mention.

You stare at Mutton who looks at you like he usually did, as if this weren’t an issue. But that was far from the case for you. It wasn't explicitly said but you were sure he told Bruno things about you, and it left you disturbed.

“...Well is there anything else I should know about Mutton?”

"Well his name's not actually Mutton," Bruno says.

"It's Leone Abbacchio, but you can call me Abbacchio."

You grimace from the human sounding voice coming from the cat you had been cuddling practically since...since you moved here!

“Okay Abbacchio, I don't really want you snooping around my house anymore--

“That can be arranged,” Bruno interrupts. “Once we ‘exorcise’ that demon constantly visiting you.”

Your already furrowed brow deepens. Doppio wasn't possessing anything though. You weren't even sure he was capable of that.

“No, I don't want that!”

"Listen, it might seem like Doppio is harmless, but things can become dangerous if he grows too serious of an attachment to you. And if it makes you feel better, we won’t need to hurt him if he leaves quietly."

You weren't exactly sure what the witch meant by "dangerous" but his serious tone managed to spark some anxiety within you.

"I mean it would be natural for Doppio to get upset if I suddenly wanted him gone."

"He's not just talking about being upset." Abbacchio says, annoyance in his tone. "Doppio could literally keep you against your will if he wanted and there would be no way for Bruno to reverse it."

"All demons are naturally envious creatures and the way things are going between you two, it’s only a matter of time. And this doesn't even take into account the other demon." Bruno says.

Diavolo aside, you couldn't bring yourself to see Doppio in that light.

"But--"

The front door slams open and the temperature in the room seems to drop.

Doppio stomps in, his face flushed. Once he sees you he seems to relax slightly but his expression is still irate.

“I finally found you!” he exclaims.

Bruno raises a brow and turns to Abbacchio.

The cat's ears fold back in frustration. "I was sure I lost him."

The incubus walks up to you, stopping too close and grabbing your shoulders harshly. “Are you okay?”

“Doppio you're gripping me too tightly.” You push off his hands and wrap your arms around yourself to shield your body from the sudden chill that seemed to appear. “I’m fine….But they're talking about you being able to keep me? What does that exactly mean?”

You wanted to hear an explanation from the incubus himself. You trusted him not to lie to your face if you asked him straight on.

However, Doppio reacts strangely, as if he's afraid. He makes some space between the two of you and struggles to look at you. You try to catch his gaze again but he refuses to keep eye contact.

"It's…" He strains his fingers. "Well, you see, incubi and succubi can form a….c-connection with a weaker being if they’re close enough. Then they could technically stay together forever."

Abbacchio grunts, "Way to sugar coat it--"

“I wouldn’t do that to you though ____! I didn't even consider it! U-Unless you wanted to it would never happen and I know that you like your space…”

The incubus is the most stressed you've seen him.

Even though you were still upset you didn't like seeing him like this, so in an attempt to ease him, you try to smile. Unfortunately, it comes off pretty strained.

You take a moment to mull over what he said though and come to a conclusion pretty quickly. "Even though that was kind of vague...I think I understand. And honestly, I can't see you forcing me into that."

You'd never seen a cat roll their eyes until now.

"Typical human. They're a lost cause Bruno. Let's leave them to do what they want," Abbacchio says before stretching and laying down.

The witch looks disapprovingly at the cat. "You know I can't do that. Perhaps they actually were charmed. I could--"

"Sir," you say to get his attention. "I appreciate your concern, but I trust Doppio and I'd prefer if you didn't get in between the two of us."

Having to tell your almost neighbor you just met to buzz off even in a polite way wasn't what you were expecting to do today.

Bruno doesn’t look upset though. He's quiet, studying you with an unreadable expression but then he nods.

"I'm having Leone check up on you. If anything seems off I'm getting involved."

Your brows furrow slightly. Didn't you just explicitly say you didn't want Abbacchio snooping around your home anymore?

You want to argue more but the witch didn't leave room in his statement to negotiate. And even though you hate to admit it, keeping the supernatural out of your home wasn't exactly your strong suit. It pissed you off but you couldnt do anything about it. So you give a curt nod and immediately walk to the exit with Doppio following closely behind.

Once outside, you follow the incubus through the forest. There's a long, awkward stretch of silence between you two though.

Doppio tries to sneakily glance at you, which you of course you notice but you choose to ignore it. However, after the 50th one he finally decides to say something.

"____?"

You sigh, "What?"

He slows to a stop to turn and look at you properly but, again, he has trouble keeping eye contact.

"Are you mad?"

Maybe at first but now it had changed to more of a disappointed feeling.

"Not necessarily but you knew about Mutt--Abbacchio and didn't say anything to me. So I'm not exactly happy right now."

"I didn't but--"

You shake your head. "No Doppio. I'm too tired right now to understand whatever weird logic you formed in your head."

His mouth closes and the hurt on his face instantly makes you regret your choice of words. Maybe you shouldn't have said it like that but you really didn't feel like listening to excuses right now.

You look away from Doppio. "Let's just go, please."

#incubus!doppio #vinegar doppio x reader #doppio x reader #reader insert #jjba x reader #if you're wondering what type of eel it is its a snowflake eel #anyways yEP #if you wanna be added to the tag list you can ask in the replies or message me whichever you want #i still need a title for ao3

[pretend-writer]

I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing (Sam Winchester x reader)

Summary: As Y/N gets seriously injured during a hunt, Sam realizes he should’ve told her how he really felt about her. 

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Title Reference: I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing x Aerosmith

Word Count: 1.5k words

Warning: mention of death, violence and injuries

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Sam's pov;

She was the light of my life, the way she smiled always made me feel warm inside. Every time she entered the room, I swear the world froze. For as long as I remembered, I've been in love with Y/N.

We've been best friends since we were little kids, playing in the mud and pranking Dean together. We eventually went to school together, complaining that we barely had the same classes.

Dad would move around from town to town, sometimes even state to state because of his job; hunting. Her family would sometimes let Dean and I stay with them so we didn't have to change schools and move around all the time.

Y/N's family were our family friends for a long time, visiting each other from time to time whenever we'd be far away from each other. Loving us as much as she did, Y/N's mother made sure we all stayed in touch. Despite dad being busy constantly year round, she made sure she made time for me, Dean and Y/N to reunite.

So when Y/N proposed that she wanted to help the Winchesters and hunt, we weren't surprised at all. Honestly, I was more surprised that she never brought the idea up sooner.

Y/N was intrigued by the hunting life since she met us, talking to dad and helping him with research whenever she would come over. Dad loved that she loved hunting too, I knew he enjoyed her company and loved her like she was his own daughter.

Learning everything from dad, she probably knew more than us. There were multiple times where Y/N saved our asses during hunts. I appreciated every single second of the day she was with me.

But I always feared that one day our luck will run out. Or even worse, her luck will run out. I would hate the day where she would come back injured and there was nothing I could do to help her.

And then it happened.

It all happened quickly; Dean and I were in a different room when I heard her scream. The werewolf got her from behind while she wasn't looking, scratching her back and then running away as it heard our footsteps coming it's way.

When Dean and I rushed to find her in the room, I froze in place from shock. She laid silently on the ground, unconscious as blood dripped from her back onto the floor.

'Sammy!' Dean yelled at me, trying to get my attention as my mind went blank. He knew about my love for her, he figured out that I was panicking. 'I need you to focus for me.'

Nodding in response, I tried not to pay too much attention to what was happening. It was hard, seeing the woman that I loved so much in pain. I knew that I should've stayed with Y/N but I didn't and suddenly regret took over my mind.

Dean was so calm, carefully picking her up from the floor as he carried her to our Impala. The drive back to the car wasn't cheerful at all, not like always. Y/N would sing a song about the supernatural beings we hunted for that night, giggling and smiling as she finished her made-up song.

This time, I was holding back my tears as I played a whole bunch of scenarios in my head. I would look into the rear view mirror to check on her and all I could think of was how I never told her that I loved her.

We did everything we could to fix her up; cleaning up and sewing her wounds, giving her some antibiotics to make sure she doesn't get worse than it already was.

The more the time had passed, the more nervous I got for her. She made no sound, no movement and it scared me that she might not wake up.

I didn't know how much time had passed until Dean had came into her room to check on us. 'Sam, you're still here?'

'Of course.' I bit my lip, not taking my eyes off of Y/N.

'She'll wake up, I know it. You know how strong she is, I know she's fighting this.'

Slowly nodding, I replied to my brother. 'Yeah.'

I didn't know what else to say; I was mad that I couldn't protect her, angry at myself that I failed to save the person I loved so much. I've even promised her family I'd take good care of her, I knew that I let everyone down.

In my mind I told myself over and over, Y/N would be alright and she would wake up any minute. My heart shattered into pieces when I constantly doubt it that that might not happen.

I just needed her to wake up again, see her gorgeous smile that I loved so much and hug her tightly.

Dean had probably sensed that I was tired, upset and mad about what had happened to her. He rested his hand on my shoulder, 'I know how much you love her Sammy. Trust me, Y/N will wake up any minute. You know how stubborn she is.'

A light chuckle escaped my mouth, reminiscing all the times I've spent with Y/N. Her and Dean used to play fight when we were younger, Y/N refused to give up and continued to wrestle with my brother.

'I just miss her, a lot.' Y/N was the only thing that was on my mind, people say that you don't know what you have until it's gone. It was all true.

'Me too, buddy.'

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Y/N's pov;

Feeling pain through my whole body, I gently opened my eyes. I couldn't grasp where I was at or what I had been doing prior to this. All I saw was Sam sitting next to me, top half of his body resting on my bed as he held my hand.

Lightly smiling to myself, I watched Sam sleeping soundly. It was cute how lightly he snored, for a little bit I forgot I was in so much pain.

'Y/N?' He groaned as he slowly woke up, lifting his head to check on me. As I squeezed his hand in response, a huge grin appeared on his face. 'You're awake.'

'I'm sorry I messed up for you guys. I didn't hear him coming at all, it happened so qui-'

'Don't apologize, ever.' Sam caressed his thumb over my hand, comforting me with worried eyes. 'I'm just so glad you're okay. I was honestly so scared.'

'Scared of what?'

Sam got quiet, he quickly let go of my hand and leaned against his seat. He seemed nervous, fidgety as if he regretted what he had said.

It was tough trying to figure out Sam; I didn't know to reassure him or leave him be. Despite being friends with Sam my entire life, there were more things I had to learn about him.

'I-I' He stumbled with his words, trying to gather his thoughts before he said anything more. 'Out of all the hunts, all our adventures, this had been the most afraid I've been.'

'I'm sorry, Sam.'

'No... I was scared that I lost you. That you'd never wake up, that I'd never see you again.'

My eyes widened, not expecting Sam to say these words. I've always loved him, more than a childhood friend, more than "the boy next door", more than anyone that I've known.

'You don't have to say anything. Just know, I love you. I'm so in love with you, Y/N.'

Somehow I didn't know what to say, despite knowing how I felt about him. Maybe I always thought that Sam and I weren't supposed to happen. I never thought the he'd feel the same way that I did, I've assumed he saw me like a sister just like Dean did.

'Well, can I say something?'

Sam slowly nodded whilst biting his lip. 'Uhm, yeah.'

'I've been in love with you, for so long I don't even remember the last time I wasn't.'

'R-really?' Sam's eyebrows rose, he still didn't believe it. Perhaps he thought the same thing; that I only saw him as a brother figure. ‘I would’ve never thought.’

‘Hah, surprise.’ I laughed nervously, it was hard to keep eye contact with him as I suddenly felt shy in front of him.

It was weird, feeling the way I felt even when I’ve known him all my life. I’ve shared everything with him from clothes to bed, we’ve told each other so many secrets together to a point where we know so much. Yet, this moment between Sam and I felt awkward but at the same time it was a relief that he finally knows how I felt about him.

Sam scooted his chair near my bed, grabbing onto my hand with small tears on his eyes. I didn’t notice that he was crying or why he was even crying. ‘Sammy, are you okay?’

He flashed a smile, the same cute grin that I loved since we were little kids. Even with tears in his eyes, his smiles were always genuine. 'Now I am.'

#supernatural fic #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester fic #supernatural sam one shot #sam winchester x reader

[shijakbuteoda]

high five deprivation

PAIRING: werewolf!yeonjun x female demon!reader

GENRE: supernatural au, college au, allusion to soulmate au, enemies to lovers, comedy, fluff

WARNINGS: vulgar language, includes violence & blood

A/N: seeing as it was halloween yesterday in australia i thought to write something appropriate !! i haven’t written anything of this nature before so i hope u like it :D idk how good i am at writing this sorta stuff so lmk what u think lovelies <3

WORD COUNT: 5,000+

SUMMARY: When Yeonjun promptly ignores your high five, an unprecedented rivalry blooms between the pair of you. After some time passes, it comes to your attention that Yeonjun is a werewolf, that he was the additional supernatural presence your abilities had detected, and that your rings... were silver. From this spirals a series of comedic events, and furthermore something more than just a mere friendship between you.

You swore that you would never forgive Yeonjun for his sinful actions.

I mean, how dare he look at your risen hand, and then continue on with his day without so much as returning your high five? What kind of sick person just does that?

Before Yeonjun had so ignorantly dampened your mood, you began your day with a pep to your walk, greeting anyone and everyone who passed you. The sweet summer breeze swept your hair back, the sunlight shining down on you only highlighting your inhumane beauty. Heads turned, people whispered, your confidence was at an extreme high. So when Yeonjun dismissed your high five without a second thought, any notion of joy left your being. Your ego deflated, and you glanced back at Yeonjun’s retreating figure with immense fury. 

Your best friend, and anchor in this world full of wretched mortals, Jeong Yunho looked on at the scene with amusement. Sure, you were being dramatic, but come on.. it was just a damn high five - you weren’t asking much of Choi Yeonjun. In an attempt to bring up your spirits, Yunho holds his hand up in the hopes of a high five which you begrudgingly return.

“I’ll shout you an iced coffee?” He proposed, nudging your figure to elicit a response. 

You merely reply in the form of a hum, allowing Yunho to drag you along the footpath to get you to your desired location. An iced coffee would do the trick, you supposed. 

You return to the college campus not long after getting your iced coffee, bumping into yourself and Yunho’s best friends, who were nothing less than chaotic. It was not unusual for the supernatural to flock together, and the eight of you were just that, the eight excluding Park Seonghwa, who was a mere human but was happy to engage in whatever you suggested due to his naivety. 

Jongho asks for the reasoning for the ever-present pout on your face, and Wooyoung takes it upon himself to cozy up to you. He looms over the top of you, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you sip at your iced coffee - and he takes that opportunity to sneak a few sips of your coffee himself. 

You merely glare at him and slurp at your coffee harshly, to assert some form of dominance over the mischievous boy. 

Wooyoung whines, and lets his fangs graze against the side of your neck gently to hopefully gain some more coffee from the whole ordeal. Where some may find it painful, such actions didn’t even register fully to you - after all, being a demon meant that your pain receptors were virtually nonexistent. 

“Wooyoung,” You warn, giving him a side-eye as Yunho decides that that moment would be perfect to give them a run down on why your mood was significantly worse than normal. The boys merely laugh at the ordeal, minus Seonghwa who goes out of his way to give you some candies he had bought to give to trick-or-treaters later that night. This provides you with a mood boost, as most of Seonghwa’s actions did. 

It is then that a majority of you realise that tonight gave you the opportunity to rid of any disguises, it being Halloween meant that no suspicion would arise if you were to venture the streets with no concealment. 

Kim Hongjoong is a witch, which has no telltale features but he took Halloween as an opportunity to live out any stereotypes to their full potential. Park Seonghwa is obviously a human, but he changes up his costume yearly for some form of comic relief, you guessed. Jeong Yunho is an angel, his friendship with all of you obviously strange - but the stereotype that angels did not get along with demons was not the case within your group, Yunho brought out his wings on Halloween as an indicator of his immortality. 

Kang Yeosang is an elf, evident through his soft features, silky flowing hair and pointed ears that were captivating to the human eye. Choi San is a demon like yourself, the only evident feature of this being your black eyes, which could shift to red, that encased your sclera and terrified anyone who crossed you. Song Mingi is a nephilim, half angel and half human, the only indicator of his supernatural presence was his angelic features, and the vague outline of wings. 

Choi Jongho is a poltergeist, similar to a ghost yet he had the ability to retain a physical form; this is seen through his eyes that often glow white. Jung Wooyoung is a vampire, his piercing red eyes and fangs indicators of his supernatural abilities. 

The nine of you were an unlikely group of friends, but you made it work, and you didn’t know what you would do without them. 

You discuss your plans for that evening, crashing a Halloween party with Wooyoung’s ability to compel humans - bending their minds to his will, seeming the most entertaining option. The nine of you part ways following this, heading off to your respective classes. San accompanied you to your next lecture, which the pair of you shared as a mutual course. 

After taking your seat towards the middle of the classroom, both you and San began catching up on anything that you had missed over the weekend. You let your eyes wander the room whilst San talked, your gaze unwilllngly halting as Choi Yeonjun entered the room, his obnoxious pink hair gaining your attention instantly.

You scoffed, glaring at him and letting San’s voice fade into background noise. Noticing your stare, Yeonjun glances up at you, returning your glower with one of his own.

“Yo, loser. Give me attention.” San pouts upon realising that you had dismissed the last two minutes of his story in favour of glaring at Yeonjun.

You don’t let your gaze wander to Yeonjun again throughout the duration of the lecture, but you can feel two pairs of eyes penetrating your being continually throughout the hour. It came as no surprise to you that it was Yeonjun, and his best friend Choi Soobin.

Soobin grew flustered when you returned his glances at the end of class, but Yeonjun only held your gaze, eyebrow raised curiously. You make note of the time, 5:53pm - you needed to head home. You put aside your ego for a moment to prioritise the party, and time necessary to get ready. Yeonjun snorts at you from your peripherals but you pay him no attention.

Keeping your chin held high, you accompany San out of the room as you made your way across campus to your apartments. Parting ways with him at your door, you let yourself into your shared apartment with Yunho.

Black silk enhanced your figure, intense dark makeup highlighting your ethereal beauty. A pair of horns adorned your head, alongside a pair of black wings extending from your back, alluding to your presence within the depths of Hell. Yunho only chuckled at your stereotypical adaptation of a demon when the pair of you left your rooms to meet in the living room.

His wings span out as you reach the space, and as you do every year; you worry about the hyperrealism of his wings - cautious as to whether a particularly sharp eyed human would notice their authenticity. Yunho sensed your worry,

“Relax, love, only someone who is supernatural themselves can see the full potential of my wings, it’s alright,” He coos, bringing you into a hug and rocking the pair of you from side to side.

You only huffed and pushed him away, collecting anything you needed for the night and ushering Yunho out of the door.

Gliding down the empty back roads of your suburb, you took time to appreciate the minimal stars lighting up the sky as night fell. The convertible roof was down, pushing a cool breeze through the car. Wisps of your hair flew around your face, sticking to your lipgloss occasionally thus provoking you to huff to unstick them due to your occupied hands. Your fingers gripped the steering wheel, Yunho’s forearm resting on the centre console as his fingers occasionally tapped at the leather.

You looked down at the clock in your car, the time reading ‘5:53pm’ for a millisecond before it changes to 8:01pm. Your brows furrowed, the strange reoccurrence in time stirring fear within you. The thought leaves your mind as you reach your destination, almost immediately after stepping out of your car you make eye contact with the one and only Choi Yeonjun.

What you didn’t realise at that moment was that your subconscious begins to subtly associate the time ‘5:53’ with Yeonjun.

Yeonjun’s costume was eerily realistic, piercing green eyes staring back at you. Fur adorned his face, Werewolf costume you supposed. You had never seen such a realistic ensemble, and had never known of a college student to have the time let alone sanity to spend time on such attire, but you didn’t judge. It was no secret that your cohort was known to be competitive, so you chalked his meticulously created costume down to that.

Having bumped into Yeonjun multiple times throughout the party you were evidently having less fun than anticipated, you were too proud of yourself to let go of his actions even though you knew that you were being overdramatic. So, the rest of the night was spent avoiding Yeonjun. That was, until he bumped into you, splashing alcohol across your costume and bringing a look of incredulity to your face.

Yeonjun’s eyes flickered with surprise, but any expression was soon wiped from his face as you pushed past him to go clean yourself up.

Not even a word was exchanged between the pair of you, and your anger clouded any other logical emotions within your mind - so much so that you didn’t notice Yeonjun wince as you brushed past him, your silver chains loosely swinging to collide with his bare skin; another part of his costume.. he had come in a crop top. Where you had a bad impression of Yeonjun, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was upon seeing his lack of hypermasculinity, it was cute how comfortable he was with his femininity. But no one needed to know that you thought that.

You lock yourself in the host’s bathroom, ignoring the incessant pounding on it that comes every so often. It was a good thing you were wearing black, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling having your clothes stick to you - the smell that came along with it even worse. What in the world had the host mixed that could produce such a smell?

After taking longer than necessary to calm your infuriation, you took notice of how much time had passed since someone had demanded to be let in the bathroom door to do god knows what. You presumed something illegal when your hand brushed against the basin, white traces of residue sticking to the pads of your fingers. No judgement from your side however, you had seen far worse; considering you were from the depths of hell.

Opening the door, you almost knock someone off of their feet as they stood in the doorway, blocking anyone whom was trying to get in. The tall frame of Huening Kai stumbled from your direct line of view, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion yet again.

“Uhm, hi!” His voice cracks, flustered by your sudden exit “Yeonjun told me to check on you, so I thought to wait for you here, are you doing okay?”

You almost roll your eyes, of course Yeonjun’s pride prevented him from offering you assistance himself - even though he was the one who put you in this predicament.

“Tell pretty boy that I’m fine, and that he can ‘check on’ me himself if he is so worried,” You suggested, nodding your head at Kai as a farewell.

It was bold of you to assume that Kai would leave you alone after that, as he immediately began to follow after you. You couldn’t deny that it was cute, he was similar to a puppy, innocent and continually joyous.

“Ah, please don’t misunderstand Yeonjun!” He starts, “He just has a hard time communicating with others sometimes, so your first impression of him may be.. stale but I promise you he’s the opposite.”

You barely even acknowledge Kai’s lingering presence and instead nod, even the oblivious Kai noticing the sardonic nature of your actions. He lets up after that, allowing you to blend into the rest of the partygoers. A sigh falls from his lips, unknowing to you; not giving up as easily as you had anticipated.

Since the night of the party, your friends had been teasing you to no end. Wooyoung even going as far as to attempt (keyword: attempt) to use his compelling abilities on you despite knowing that they wouldn’t work. When this obviously didn’t go as planned, Mingi dared you to try and high five Yeonjun again as you passed him. To their joy, you were incapable of not taking part in a dare... some may call you a daredevil.. ha, get it? That was bad, sorry.

Their happiness only heightened when they spied Yeonjun and his four companions walking in your general direction. Begrudgingly, you walk ahead of your friends, holding your hand out to warrant a high five, and Yeonjun ignores it.... again. Kai instead steps up as to not leave you hanging.

From behind you is stifled laughter, Yeosang had evidently done the same as you, putting his hand up to Yeonjun for a high five. To your displeasure, Yeonjun returned it. You looked on with an expression that you could only describe as exasperated.

The eyes of 13 boys linger on your figure as you stomp away, pride wounded once again. Kai pouted as he watched you leave, knowing that your impression of Yeonjun had only worsened. 

To your surprise, it is not one of your own friends who follows you, but it is one of Yeonjun’s. Kai grins cheekily at you as you make eye contact, and takes your hand in his gently. You yank your hand from his, not knowing him well enough to allow for any form of physical affection to bloom between the pair of you. But he persists, gripping onto your wrist and slowly pulling your rings from your fingers. He sets them in your hand, the silver glinting in the minimal lights of the hallway, Kai then promptly takes his leave.

You stand there on your lonesome, glancing down at your rings. Kai had definitely left you with something valuable to think about.  

You couldn’t believe that you were so stupid as to allow for not one, but two supernatural presences to pass by you without any recognition. Those beings werewolves of all things; Choi Soobin and Choi Yeonjun had even been in their true forms in front of you at the party but you reduced this to the ‘competitive’ nature of your cohort.

There was no doubt in you that Lucifer would be disappointed with you and your ignorance, I mean, you are one of the strongest beings in the underworld, so your competency was to be expected. 

Yunho broke your inner turmoil as he knocked gently on your door, bringing in a plate of food that he had prepared. While food was unnecessary to both demons and angels, it brought you comfort. Eating was also something you did to distract yourself at times such as this. 

Yunho sat beside you on your bed, letting you spout your worries to him as the pair of you came up with a plan to hide your incompetency in one way or another.

The next time you saw Yeonjun was in circumstances you had not anticipated, you had come to your regular lecture, but San was not there. Soobin was also absent. So inevitably, your professor had partnered the pair of you up for an interactive segment of your course. 

Yeonjun and yourself held awkward eye contact as you both tried to determine who was to go to who, and Yeonjun was ultimately the one to take initiative. So rather than have the hyperactive Choi San accompany you through the lecture, it was instead another Choi, Yeonjun. 

Conversation flowed easily as the pair of you discussed your work, maybe it wasn’t uncomfortable as the chat did not centre around anything personal. But it still worked out better than either of you had expected. The pair of you finished the set workload quite fast, with 20 minutes left of your lecture. 

“Hell yeah!” You exclaim, impulsively reaching your hand out to Yeonjun, whom returned it with no second thoughts. 

Yeonjun flinched as his hand came into contact with yours, expecting the fresh sting of silver to shock him to his senses. But he was met with the cool material of gold brushing against his skin, the sting instead coming from the strength of your palm crashing against his. You had a knack to undermine your power at times, but with Yeonjun being a werewolf he was rather desensitised to pain - just not at the level of a demon such as yourself who felt no pain whatsoever. 

Yeonjun looked at you in amazement, the pair of you giggling silently to yourselves as you cleared up any building tension from the past few weeks with a mere hand touch. 

A loud thump gained a few head turns as Yeonjun’s skull came into contact with the desk in front of you, due to his failed attempts to suppress any laughter that dared to spill out. You only glared at anyone who turned to you, it was as if you were saying ‘What the fuck are you looking at?’ but.. with your eyes. A few girls let their stares linger on the pair of you in jealousy, there was no doubt that Yeonjun had quite the fanbase at your University. You only dismissed their glances with a flick of your wrist, threatening physical violence if they were to disturb you any further. 

Yeonjun lifts his head, “So... you know I’m.... right?”

You only look at him with a blank face and respond with, “What? A part of the LGBTQ+ community, or a werewolf?”

Yeonjun returns your same blank look, “Not denying either,” and the pair of you share a cheeky glance before letting out soft giggles at your somewhat secretive conversation.

That day marked the start of your friendship, the pair of you exchanging numbers and messaging the minute you split up on campus. From there you planned to hang out at the local arcade, and then as it grew late you would migrate to your apartment where you would binge horror movies. 

On both seperate occasions wherein you told your friends your plans, and Yeonjun told his, it was as if their minds were synced. Your eight friends shared knowing glances. Yeonjun’s four friends shared knowing glances. They merely hummed when you tried to tell them that it was a ‘friend’ thing, not having any of your excuses. You soon gave up and let them think what they wished to, it was difficult changing their minds after all. 

You meet Yeonjun outside of the arcade at 4:00pm, and soon lose track of time as the pair of you play any and every game within the arcade. Sure, it may be a waste of money considering some of the games were rigged, but it was worth it because of how much joy - nostalgia even, it brought the pair of you. 

Yeonjun had challenged you to a game of ‘Dance Dance Revolution’ when one of the employees alerted you that there wasn’t much time before they closed. The pair of you shared a knowing stare and immediately started up your game, aiming to at least try out two others before you had to leave.

Yeonjun obviously ended up winning Dance, Dance, Revolution much to your dismay. But you were quick to make him aware that you were a mere three points behind him, and you didn’t let him forget that fact. It almost seemed as if the pair of you were in a war with your prides, inflating and deflating each other’s egos continually. 

You then finish up a game of air hockey in record speed, you taking the victory and not letting Yeonjun forget it once again. The pair of you then partake in a game of Arcade Hoops, yourself and Yeonjun with a mutual score of 83, the third tie that you shared that evening. It was then that the store clerk came by again, telling you to pack up as the store closed in less than ten minutes.

You glance down at the time on your phone, ‘5:53pm’ glaring back up at you. A weird feeling settles within you as you take note of the continual reoccurrence of the time... and how you are always within a short distance of Yeonjun when you view it. You simply shrug off this feeling and reduce it to being a coincidence, everything would be okay, right? 

“Holy shit, you’re sick at games!” Yeonjun almost screams in astonishment, and you only smirk,

“Comes with the age, sweetheart.” You jested, alluding to your immortality as a Knight of Hell, and a past Queen of Hell, but that’s a whole different story in itself. 

Yeonjun goes silent at that, eyes narrowing at you in a joking manner, “You’ve had all this time to practice, and yet I still managed to beat you at some games? Gee, some immortal you are,” he chided. 

You push him off of the footpath into the grass as a response, making him lose his balance and bump into a passerby. Your senses are on high alert with that, noting the presence of not one but multiple demons within your vicinity, alongside that the lack of humans in the area. 

Yeonjun turns to retaliate but stops upon seeing the blank expression on your face, the look on your face stirring fear within him despite him also being a supernatural being. Talk about Big Dick Energy, huh. 

You then note how the presence of demons seemingly surrounds you, attempting to make you feel small and intimidated but it does quite the opposite. You applaud them, I mean, challenging a Knight of Hell is a big job, but you also snort inwardly at their stupidity. If their powers were a Level 10, yours were a Level 500k+. The scraggly sixteen of them didn’t throw you off at all, it only provided you with entertainment as you knew that there was no way they’d overpower you, especially with Yeonjun by your side.

“Aw, look at your little bitch, my Queen,” One of them sneers, and Yeonjun lunges at him teasingly in retaliation, intimidating him enough for the demon to take a few steps back. 

“What is it that you want this time? Mad that I’m the Devil’s right hand and you’re not?” You question blankly, eyes flashing red to assert your hierarchical status. 

A female demon steps up at that, throwing herself onto you which does nothing to waiver your confidence. You only use your biokinesis to alter her biological makeup, which results in her spitting up blood. Blood then begins to leak from her eyes and onto the concrete.

A few other demons come at you in a similar fashion, taking your actions as a cue to start their attack, and you take this opportunity to showcase your array of supernatural abilities. Biokinesis where you make someone explode or bleed, pyrokinesis where you set them on fire, thermokinesis where your skin becomes hot to the touch and results in third degree burns, mental manipulation wherein you made demons up and leave their ringleader, sedation where they drop to the floor, unconscious, molecular combustion where the demon is reduced to dust. The extent of your abilities was almost endless, much to the amazement of Yeonjun.

You take out all of the demons except for one, who you assume is the absolute genius behind this plan. He cowers, and tumbles back as you draw closer to him, “I would say that you were to regret that, but you won’t be feeling anything in a few minutes.”

You mutter a few phrases, exorcising the demon, leaving an innocent human staring up at you. Snapping your fingers you clear their memory of the time that the demon inhabited them, “You have been missing for six months, off you go.” The human stands up and walks away at a leisurely pace, observing their surroundings with confusion.

You stand up straighter at that, snapping your fingers to rid of any evidence of the happenings, and to clean your clothes that were drenched with blood. Thankfully the demons were all in vessels, inhabiting another human made it much easier for you to rid of them. More often than not the bodies were close to death nonetheless, so even if you exorcised them all the humans they were inhabiting would likely die as a result. You dust your hands off, proud of the show you put on in front of Yeonjun. 

Not to give yourself the full credit, however. You noted that Yeonjun had also taken part in the fight; scratching or biting at the demons as they attacked the pair of you. Yeonjun found himself feeling nothing but rage as he saw the nature in which the demons threw themselves at you. Red clouded his vision, in both a mental and physical sense, as he retaliates. 

You turn to Yeonjun, smirking as you catch him already staring at you in astonishment. His eyes sparkle, and his mouth is wide open in a dazed grin. Not knowing what to say you burst out the over-used, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” and Yeonjun instantly grows flustered. 

You take that moment to take out your phone, shooting a message to Lucifer - yes, the Devil, he’s quite with the ages. The oldie had evolved alongside society, keeping up to date with all of the current trends. He immediately responds to your text and tells you that he’ll take care of the demons, their opposition lacking total relevance seeing as they were almost instantly killed off. 

You pocket your phone and turn to Yeonjun, “To my apartment we go, then. Shall we?” You extend your arm to him, and he interlocks his with yours confusedly, were you not even going to address what just happened?

Since that night, the pair of you indefinitely began to develop feelings for one another. As much was obvious to your friends as well, who teased you about it at every opportunity they got. 

You found yourself thinking of Yeonjun more often, finding his reactions from that night adorable, and his protectiveness of you ever so precious. You saw many sides of him that night, even his soft side who still startled at the jump scares in horror movies. Alongside his confidence, wherein he began snuggling up to you as he realised that you had an arm across his shoulders to comfort him. 

Yeonjun found himself thinking of you even more from that moment as well, not that he hadn’t before seeing as he had harboured a crush on you for months beforehand. He thought your independence was admirable, and your skills.. dare he say it, sexy. He noted that his first impression of you was far from the truth, where you were externally tough and intimidating, you were inwardly quite sensitive, and almost childlike despite being a demon. He noted this through the huge collection of plush toys that adorned your bed.

So, the pair of you went to message one another, instantly halting as you both saw the typing bubble pop up on your phones. You end up typing again as Yeonjun fails to do so for about a minute, ‘Theme park, tomorrow, 4:00pm. Meet me at my apartment,’ and he does exactly that. 

The following evening the pair of you accompany each other to the theme park, going on a number of rides and winning the other prizes at the stands across the area. Yeonjun had won you a fox plush toy, which you named after him, and you won him a deer soft toy, which he in turn named after you. 

Night begins to fall, and a chill washes over the area as the fresh night air envelops anyone who dared to stay out past sunset. You glance upwards, smiling at the beauty of the stars that adorned the sky. Yeonjun stares at you as you look away, admiring your effortless perfection. He then takes off his coat, letting it rest across your shoulders. You glance at him questioningly, tilting your head to the side in a way that he finds so irresistibly adorable. 

He only shrugs as a reply, ruffling your hair. You stop him, gripping his hand in your own, “Cheeky bastard,” you retort, intertwining your fingers which elicits a blush from Yeonjun. You note that he is only wearing a pink crop top, which would only make him freeze, so you sidle up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist that rests at his exposed hipbone. As you had to let go of his hand to do so, you then brought his arm over your shoulders, intertwining your fingers once again.

Yeonjun stares the opposite way for a second to hide his blush, and then rests his head on top of yours, nuzzling into your hair to stop you from looking up at his red face. His usual confidence was often hindered in your presence as yours matched his perfectly, leaving him flustered continually. You lead the pair of you to the Ferris Wheel, where you get a carriage to yourself, guaranteeing privacy. 

“Yeonjun.” You state, warranting his full attention. He turns to face you almost instantaneously, humming to urge you to continue, “You’re a fucking loser but I’m falling for you, and I need to make you mine or it might just kill me-”

You are cut off by Yeonjun’s lips meeting yours, the kiss slow and sensual following your admission of feelings. You pull away first to breathe, and his lips chase after yours instinctively, not liking the feeling of you parting with him so soon. You close the gap again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. 

After you separate again, Yeonjun pants, “God, I’m so fucking whipped for you. I’m yours,” as you go to kiss him again, he stops you, “But, you’re mine.”

You only nod as a response, but stop yourself again to retort, “Don’t use that language in front of me.” 

“W-what... the f-word?” He mumbles, “No, ‘God’ you loser... I’m a demon..”

He only rolls his eyes, grabbing at the lapels of his coat resting on your shoulders to pull you into another kiss. The kiss was passionate, slow, sweet, the residue of cotton candy setting the atmosphere, and there was no denying that the man was an excellent kisser... it was as if his lips were made for the sole purpose of kissing. Any background noise faded away, the pair of you absorbed in one another, and to think that merely a few weeks ago the pair of you were in an unspoken war over high fives.

The time? 5:53pm... a time that now belonged to yourself and Yeonjun, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

#choi yeonjun #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun au #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun blurb #txt imagines #tomorrow x together #yeonjun fanfic #txt x reader #kpop imagines #txt fanfic #txt au #halloween kpop imagine #kpop #ateez #choi beomgyu #choi soobin #kang taehyun #huening kai #yeonjun scenario #yeonjun Drabble #txt fluff

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 3

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Mentions of slave trafficking

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 3 - Born Without Tears

The red-dressed beauty lightly opened his vermilion lips and blew into the jade flute. The flute sound was full of lingering affection, softly touching his heart, as if he was inviting all listeners to join the red curtain and share the scenery together.

Song Qingshi's mother was an internationally renowned pianist. Because of her influence, music had become Song Qingshi's only hobby outside of school. In the last days of Song Qingshi's life, he had lost all body functions, but his consciousness was extremely clear.

His mother invested heavily in installing top-notch audio equipment in his room to play music everyday. She also asked top musicians in various fields to give him a small concert every day.

Music rescued him from the brink of despair and soothed his heart. During this special time, Song Qingshi was particularly sensitive to the emotions in music. He could hear the player's tenderness in the passionate piano music, and he could also find hidden encouragement in the sad and solemn guzheng music. . .

Now, he heard the familiar struggle and despair in the lingering and affectionate sound of the flute.

Song Qingshi finally raised his head, staring at the brilliant phoenix in a daze. He could no longer look away.

Jin FeiRen found out that Song Qing finally became interested in one of the beauties, and he was overjoyed: "Song Xianzun is interested in this slave? His name is Yue Wuhuan, naturally charming, a rare wood single-spirit root. That means he's much more resistant when tossing him around in bed. The more you rough him up, the more unhinged he comes. Those who have tried it have never failed to boast about it. Do you want to taste him first?"

Song Qingshi's ears were reddened by his explicit recommendation. He quickly turned his eyes away, and said dumbly: "No need."

"Medicine Master Xianzun is clean and does not engage in those activities. If you don't love these things, don't force him, friend." LingBao Xianzun came over, pointing to Yue Wuhuan and exclaimed, "If I remember, was this the best product sold by Xie Que? This immortal world is still the best place for him to raise beautiful people; one is more tasteful than the last. Alas, I have a friend who is his good friend, and all kinds of better goods will be sold to you first."

Jin FeiRen waved his hand and said, "You flatter me. What he really has a good relationship with are thirty hu of mermaid pearls."

LingBao Xianzun laughed: "If all friendships in the world could be created with money, my friend would be surrounded by the most affectionate people in the world. Come, come, let me have three cups with my friend and celebrate the wind and moon together.

Jin FeiRen also laughed, and ordered the young man in his arms to fill a glass of wine and drink with LingBao Xianzun.

LingBao Xianzun had already drunk a lot. He was slightly drunk. He leaned against the table and listened to the flute. He exclaimed: "I remember that when this beauty first entered this place, he was reluctant to accompany guests, even under the control of Acacia Seal. It was very interesting to see, but now he has become so promiscuous, and his flavour has changed. You have great methods, my friend."

Jin FeiRen shook his head: "It's a pity that this beauty doesn't cry no matter how rough you toss him around. He was born without tears, and because of that, some of his appeal has been lost."

Song Qingshi heard the professional question and couldn't help answering: "Being born without tears may be a problem with the lacrimal secretion system."

Jin Fei was dumbfounded for a moment. He appreciated his friendship with Song Qingshi, but he couldn't keep up with his medical obsession. He had to laugh awkwardly and switch off the topic: "Don't look at this beauty's promiscuity deceive you. In the mortal world, he was also a noble and respectable prince. When he was eight years old, Xie Que found that he had excellent aptitude when he was looking for beauties in the mortal world, so he showed his supernatural powers and presented the emperor with a pill for prolonging life. The old emperor was so happy that he happily gave his son to the immortal leader. Xie Que is also an ingenious person. He will seriously accept mortals with spiritual roots as disciples, and coax them to trust him. Then he uses that trust to trick them to sign the spiritual contract of voluntary slavery. He then teaches them superficial techniques, and, when they appear to be at their peak, brands them with the Acacia Seal. He always gets them when the colour is at the best time for picking, and then sells them to the brothels to serve in their rooms.

Although everyone knew he was taking advantage of those loopholes, they all turned a blind eye and eventually accepted this method of slave trafficking."

The Yanshou Pill can only be taken once to extend someone's life to reach 100 years old.

Cultivators can live at least three hundred years so long as they build a good foundation base. They don't need this tasteless kind of thing at all. Most of them are bought for their mortal servants. The price is very cheap, only worth two low-grade spirit stones. Such huge profits have continued to promote the slave trade.

There is an endless stream of cultivators in the trade, but none of them are well-versed as Xie Que.

Song Qingshi was surprised to find in his memory that the original body had seen Xie Que before.

That spring, the original body was studying a new way to create pills behind closed doors. Xie Que came to seek medical treatment with a comatose child. The child was a mortal, about eleven or twelve years old, with a rare pure yang physique and a wood spiritual root. Moreover, when he reached the third rank, his talents were different, and he was even better than some of the wasted descendants of various immortal families. Xie Que said that it was his new apprentice who had recruited more than three years ago. When he went to the mountains to practice, he was bitten by a Devil Mask Snake. Devil Mask Snakes are not extremely poisonous, but they will turn the faces of the poisoned person different colours, just like they were wearing a mask.

The original body typically didn't treat mortals, but Xie cried out in tears, saying that this was his most important apprentice, and he was willing to pay a high price to save him. The original body was in a good mood at the time, and was annoyed by his repeated crying. The Devil Mask Snake poison was also easy to detoxify. He finally relented and ordered a servant to give him two detoxification pills and ordered Xie Que not to cry again.

Xie Que stayed beside the apprentice’s bed and took care of him for three days. The apprentice woke up from a coma, his body no longer in a serious condition, but it took time for the ghost marks on his face to disappear. They stayed in the valley for half a month, and waited until his apprentice's face fully recovered.

During that time, the peach blossoms in the medicine garden bloomed just right, like red brocade all over the sky. When the original body encounters a problem with his alchemy, he often sits in a high place and looks at the peach blossoms and thinks. Every time, the original body would see a small figure under the peach blossom practicing swordsmanship. He practiced in the morning, at noon, and at night, as if it had become a landscape of symbiosis with the peach blossoms.

Mortals trying to cultivate immortality are like a fish leaping over a dragon's gate. The path comes with many difficulties and dangers, and there are few successful ones.

Xie Que was always by his side, with a worried expression on his face. He was either afraid that he would drop his sword or that he would become exhausted. The two quarreled several times. On a whim, the original's body and mind let out a spiritual thought to investigate. He heard the child say to Xie Que: "Master, although mortals are not as good as immortals, my father taught me to reward my diligence, and diligence can make up for my weaknesses. So I have to work harder and never waste time."

"What you said makes sense," Xie Que tried to persuade him with a bitter face. "Your injury has not healed. I'm afraid you might hurt your body. And. . . why do you have to practice sword? Entertaining cultivation, wouldn’t it be better for you to learn some flute, piano or something?"

"Master taught me to use music to cultivate Taoism is very good," the child scratched his head embarrassedly. "But I like swords, I want to be like Mo Yuan Jianzun. Master, rest assured, I know all the songs you taught me. I practiced better than my senior brothers and sisters, and I definitely don't put off practice."

Xie Que had no choice but to say: "I will find you the right ice silk gloves later. You must wear them when you practice swords. You must soak your hands with lotion at night to make your hands soft. This will prevent calluses, so you won't miss the subsequent practice."

The child cheered, excitedly: "Master, you are so kind."

"Don't get hurt," Xie Que lightly knocked on his forehead and complained. "You naughty devil. Your master is terrified. From now on, stay in the sects when you practice, and you are not allowed to go to the back mountains. Take breaks as well to avoid ruining your eyes."

The child accepted all these conditions.

Xie Que leaned over, rubbed his head gently, and sighed: "You don't know how much Master values you. . ."

"I know." The child raised his head and said in a serious voice: "I know that the immortal world looks down on mortals that cultivate immortality, and even looks down on the master who only accepts mortals as disciples. I don't want to shame my master, so I must cultivate a Golden Core to prove to everyone that Master’s vision is right!"

Xie Que looked at his face silently, his eyes distant and difficult to distinguish.

The child pulled Xie Que's sleeves, turned his eyes, and said embarrassedly: "Wuhuan likes Master the most!"

Xie Que stretched out his fingertips, stroked the child's colorful face, looked carefully, and finally stopped reluctantly on the small red mole under his left eye, which was dazzlingly beautiful. He was silent for a long time, showing a very kind smile: "Master also likes you the most."

. . .

#mistakenly saving the villain #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mistakenly saving the villain translation #song qingshi #yue wuhuan

[walker-journal]

Legend of the Vermilion Bird (Adam +Leah)

Characters: Leah Ramirez (Phoenix- Julie), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)

Location: Just outside the Vural Property

Timing: Shortly before the events of And From the Ashes

Summary: After killing a Torple, Adam consults a wary Leah about the nature of phoenixes 

Content Warning: Woerm gore

The forest road was alive with the subtle rustling and animal calls of spring as Adam skinned a large Torple that’d shuffled onto the Vural’s property, instinctually drawn by the taste of spellcraft that practically saturated the area. The Hunter supposed such predators were a hazard of having so much mojo concentrated in one place. Being a muggle himself, Adam wasn’t in much danger from these lumbering magic-eating worms, but the Hunter felt it behooved him to quietly take care of threats to his significant other’s family. 

The Torple looked like the big-mouthed lovechild of a naked mole-rat and an earthworm with massive human teeth. Even seated on a hefty moss-covered rock, Adam was barely taller than the corpulent segmented creature. It’s webbed limbs were spindly in comparison to its body while its enormous yet unsettlingly humanoid mouth made it a wonder the Torple could move at all. It jaws were immovable once latched on, but it was the thick glistening layer of magic negating mucus covering the magivore that made Adam preemptively take a machete to it outside the boundary of his hostesses’ wards, lest its mere presence unravel them. 

Adam worked a curved ulu knife down the dead Torples’ sides, scraping the anti-magic slime off with the skinning blade and scooping it into nearby barrels. He vaguely felt Leah’s approach before he heard her footsteps, the icy-heat of her paranormal presence growing stronger as she approached. Once he caught sight of the familiar face, the Hunter took his hand  off the handle of a hidden blade and got back to scraping Torple slime. 

“Hey Library Warrior, could I have a minute? I need to ask you about something.” 

Having Bea back in town felt like relief.  When she died, Leah had been so caught off guard that she was always waiting for the other shoe to drop now that she was back to life.  At any given moment, she expected another phone call from Nell or Felix or anyone telling her that it happened again, that there was no way to fix it this time.  And New York felt so tauntingly far away, especially to someone who had barely ever left White Crest.  And so the news that her best friend was coming back to town made the tension ease from her neck- had she been holding her shoulders that tight the whole time she’d been away?

Maybe she had been spending too much time at the Vural Sister’s house that weekend (to be fair, one-third of the sister trio would have said any time Leah spent there was too much, but that’s besides the point), but for the tension to truly escape her, she need some real, tangible time with her friend. 

While Bea was busy inside cooking, Leah chose to explore the property outside, eager to soak up some sun and enjoy the chill of winter finally breaking.  She grimaced when she happened upon Adam, and watched him with an unamused expression.  It was kind of easy to ignore that he was a hunter, most of the time, but not when he was slicing something up right in front of her.  She let out a breath when he called out to her, sitting on her hip.

“What’s up?”, she asked.  She was sure he was just curious about a book, or something- maybe he lost his copy of Green Eggs and Ham.

“What is that there?” she asked, gesturing to the creature he was scraping.  Damn her and her innate curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

“I need to ask you about Phoenixs,” Adam replied with the blunt directness that frequently came when one was focused on multiple tasks at once. “There is a fire chicken that’s gone supernova in a valley. Luce is like...a fire scientist but she isn’t sure what would make em go..” Adam made a sound in his throat evocative of an explosion. I was wondering if you’d heard of anything like that,” the Hunter asked of the Not-Spriggan. 

Adam patted the enormous human-mouthed earthworm with a gloved hand as he scrapped more slime from the corpse into a bucket. “This is a Torple, they hunt people who do magic,” Adam supplied. “The Vural place is kinna a beacon with the Hogwarts stuff going on.” 

Leah felt her eyebrows furrow at Adam’s statement- both at the boldness with which he said it, and the statement itself.  She felt heat rise to her cheeks- did he know about her?  Was the knife he held over the creature actually intended for her- her tears or information or life? But no, Nell wouldn’t let that happen, right?  Nell would have at least warned her if he found out.   She felt herself visibly relax when he explained more, swallowing before she responded.  “Luce told me about this, but… what makes you think I know anything about phoenixes?”, she asked, trying to remain stoic and unblinking.  “They’re just about the rarest known creatures- information is pretty rare on them.”  The last time they spoke on the subject, Adam himself had thought phoenixes only ever spent time in their firestate, which was laughable, at best.  “You want to explode them?  I don’t think Luce is down with that idea. And neither am I, if you’re taking my help.  You need to find a way to cure them, not kill them.”  Killing the corrupted phoenix would be very, very easy.  Adam could take notes from Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West, if he wanted to be cruel like hunters tended to be.  

She pressed her lips together, unable to look at the slaughtered earthworm for too long.  Torples.  She’d heard of them, but not a ton.  She’d have to see if they had anything written up on them when she went home later tonight.  “Well- it’s good that you got it, then”, she said with an awkward nod, glancing at the bucket.  “Is the slime useful, or something?”

“Because you’re like... a supernatural librarian lady,” Adam pointed out as if this somehow gave Leah some form of nerd-omniscience. “I figured that you’d be a person to ask about something that rare y’know?”

Leah seemed to misinterpreted his amazing sound effects. “Hey hey hey,” Adam exclaimed with a note of petulance, holding up his slimy free hand in a staying gesture. “Look, that Phoenix was already exploding when we found it ok,” he asserted with boyish pique. “What I mean is that I was wondering if you knew how we could switch them into I dunno... unexplode mode, like a song, some herbs they like, an off button, we’ll take anything.” 

Adam went back to driving his blade into the annelid’s side, exposing the yellowish nerve cords beneath its ridged skin. “It interferes with magic,” he explained. “Honestly, because of how many damn Chickcharneys there are around here, I end up dunking alotta people in this slime to try and bounce the Chickcharney curse off them.” Adam chose not to mention the part where he’d erased a wizards wards with this slime and accidentally become an accessory to murder. 

Leah let out a slow breath, watching Adam carefully.  He wasn’t… wrong.  But what were the ethical implications involved with helping a hunter learn about one of the rarest, most vulnerable species that existed? 

What were they if she let someone like Adam try to figure it out on his own?

She rolled her eyes at his defense, but held her hands up in apology.  “Sorry- I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”  Even though it was so hard not to with a hunter. She walked closer to him as she continued.  “I told Luce that I have an idea of how the phoenix got so out of control, but up until now, I thought it was only a myth.”  She paused- could she really trust him?  When she thought about it, she wasn’t sure, but maybe it didn’t matter.  What difference would it make if Luce and Adam were working together in this?  One way or another, Adam was going to find out.  Better it be out of the horse’s mouth.  

“We call them corrupted- it means that their ashes were on corrupted ground when they were reborn.  Sometimes the corruption happens right away, and other times the phoenix could be well into adulthood, with a life and a family before it happens.  There are no warning signs, either.   I don’t… I still haven’t found a cure in my research, but…”  She took a deep breath before continuing, and her next words came out faster than she intended.  “If this phoenix doesn’t survive…whatever you end up doing... the best way to help them in the next life is to keep their ashes somewhere safe and sacred.”

At that imagery, Leah couldn’t help but crack a smile.  “Are you telling me you make a habit out of performing Torple Slime Baptisms, so to speak?”

The palpable feelings of otherness intensified as Leah got closer, there’d been a time when Adam would have immediately gone into fight or flight mode when his Hunter senses reacted. But in White Crest he’d had to acclimate. That conditioning was an asset when hunting alghoul out in the sticks, but here it could end up him going all kill-zone on a librarian. 

Adam paused his gory worm skinning and listened to Leah as she spoke. He noticed the use of the word ‘we’ but kept silent and impassive during the explanation. It turned out that Luce had already tapped Leah on this matter, which was unsurprising. But while he’d hadn’t doubted that she was knowledgeable, Adam’d already suspected that Ramirez wasn’t your average bibliophile, but she knew even legends of the legend. 

“We ….as in the Maine librarian’s union?”  Adam’s question was playfully phrased. There were many species, secret societies, and so on that did not appreciate their ways being pried into, and Adam didn’t want to start shit with the one person who seemed to have solid intel on Chernobyl phoenix. 

“I would rather they survive,” Adam assured. “At the end of the day I’ll do what it takes to protect civilians, but from what you’ve said it sounds like this is some demon radiation juju that they didn’t have any say in.” 

Adam inhaled. “But, if it does come to that, has your research given you any idea of a holy place that’d work for keeping the ashes safe? Maybe some place sacred to uh...I don’t know if Phoenixes worship any gods,” he admitted. “But maybe somewhere that means alot to their culture?”

The unexpected jocularity of the question, from Leah especially, took Adam openly off-guard, teasing a sheepish smile from him. “Uh yeah actually,” he admitted while scrapping some more slime off the giant mage-eater worm into a bucket. “It’s not glamorous and the clients always hate it, but the Torple-dunkage sometimes works for really minor stuff like that.”

Leah blanched, blinking at Adam’s question.  Had she been so careless to say we?  “I uh… we as in, me.  Of course. Me,us.  And the other people who are interested in supernatural history.”  She swallowed, unsure if Adam were picking up on her status as a phoenix or her status as a scribe.  Possibly both, right?  This close, he had to be having those creepy senses that she wasn’t as human as she appeared.  Either way, it was bad news.  

“I’d rather that too, but I don’t think it’s unrealistic to prepare for the worst, either.” Something Adam said struck a chord in Leah, and she couldn’t stop herself before she commented.  “I mean, that’s true of most supernatural creatures though, isn’t it?  Born or bitten, werewolves, zombies, and vampires didn’t have a say in.  Do you grant them the same courtesy when they’re out of control?”

“I know a few places that could work”, she said, crossing her arms over her chest.  Whether she would tell Adam unless he absolutely needed them- that was another story.  “Not necessarily a culture to be had per say.  Because of their rarity and ability to blend in, it’s not often a phoenix ever meets another like them in their lifetime.”  She and her family were so incredibly lucky to have each other to love; to grow and learn from when they were the most vulnerable.  “I...know a family that would take care of the baby once they’re reborn, too, so-... if it comes to that, it’ll be all covered.”   

Leah let herself get a good look at the creature, taking as many mental notes as she could to write down later.  Sometimes Adam wasn’t as bad as he seemed.  “I think most people would be pissed if you dunked them into a baby pool of slime and sludge.  I certainly would.”

“It depends,” Adam answered without any attempt at dissemblance. “Gotta measure their life against the lives of those they’d kill when outta control,” the Hunter continued as he got down from the rock he’d been perched on to move his flaying blade to the Torple’s lower portion. “Most humans just get ripped in half if they meet a vamp that's gone all hunger frenzy, but I was born strong enough to match them,” he reasoned. “In the ideal scenario I wrestle the vamp or whatever off the civilian and get them to snap out of it.” 

Adam took the long strip of worm skin over to a tree and slung it over one of the branches to dry in the sunshine. “But uh, reality doesn’t give ideal scenarios most of the time y’know? Sometimes you have to make a split-second judgement or alotta people die,” the Hunter admitted. “ But yeah, I guess the best answer I can give you is that I try.” 

“That uh...sounds pretty lonely, being all human torchy and not having anything to relate to what the hell is going on,” Adam admitted, as he walked back to the Torple corpse. “Do you do the supernatural foster care stuff alot Leah?” 

Adam rolled his eyes amiably at the resistance to necessary alien-worm slime dunking. “Hey  Chick-a-Curses are worse though. Like all of their hexes are bad, but the one your head twists backwards...gah!  I either have to bribe a witch to visit their hospital room and decurse them, or I have to sneak in and pour worm slime over some poor bastard in a hospital bed and hope it works.” 

“Most vamps get stabbed if they meet an egotistical hunter”, Leah countered immediately.  “I appreciate your attempt to be civil in the way you handle things, but I don’t find the same to be true for most hunters.”  She couldn’t help but get into these debates with the hunters in her life, and if she were being honest, she didn’t really tire of them, either.

“It’s not all bad.  I know you assumed at first that they’re literal chickens, but like I said- phoenixes spend most of their time looking like humans.  And while a lot of them end up growing up not knowing what they are until they sneeze some smoke or look for a reason feathers are popping out of their foreheads, they’re not lost for companionship.  I’ve even heard tell of families who are able to stay together throughout their cyclical lives, raising each other generation after generation.  This is incredibly rare, of course.”

She blanched at Adam’s next question, opening her mouth and closing it.  She thought of the golden goose egg, still safely incubating in her basement, surely ready to hatch at any moment.  “I… how did you know I meant myself?”

Leah couldn’t help but laugh at his anecdotes, no matter how much she wanted to disavow them for being those of a hunter.  “That doesn’t sound like a fun way to wake up- are witches so untrustworthy of you that they don’t trust that your slime is for good?”

Adam rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Y’know, if I made the same argument in reverse about ‘most vamps’ being violent and evil you’d call me out for generalizing and being a bigot Ramirez,” he pointed out. 

Adam decided not to point out the fact that statistically the deaths on humans at the hands of vampires were uncountable orders of magnitude greater than vampires dying to Hunters. But frankly, it was pretty fucking obvious that Leah considered one supernatural life precious, but human lives were just numbers to her, devoid of emotional significance unless she knew them personally. 

It’s pointless to argue with people like that. 

“You don’t know ‘most Hunters’ Leah, not even close,” Adam pointed out bluntly, “Look Ramirez you hate people like me for reasons that are obviously personal. I’m fine with that.” the footballer said with a shrug of his broad shoulders, as if he felt this truce of hate sufficient. “It’s chill. 

Despite the slip into harsh words, Adam continued to listen patiently to the talk of phoenixes, families, and cycles of rebirth. It was all pretty surreal honestly. What would it be like to be with his family across a thousand lives over and over?

He wouldn’t know. Adam had grown up being raised with the knowledge that every moment with his family was precious, that he needed to learn how to survive on his own before they fell one by one in the line of duty. 

Adam hacked into the Torple with an unnecessary force as his chest constricted. 

“Do they line...remember each other each rebirth? Or are they all new different people each time?”

Leah’s unexpected motion of surprise caused Adam’s attention to flick to her instinctively, but her following question dispelled the moment of tenseness. “I didn’t,” he admitted. “I more meant that you seemed to already have homes in mind as if you were a supernatural social worker or somethin.” 

“You….really down to be a fire mom Leah?”

Adam considered Leah’s question for a moment. “I think that magic, like all resources, should be used for the betterment of society,” Adam said, hinting at a certain level of utopianism behind the memes and crass commentary. “But I can’t force everyone to think that way. If I’m going to bug a busy sorceress to leave her research to cure some rando she doesn’t know, I need to be able to pay her. Just how it is.’ 

Leah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.  Adam was ignoring the fact that the violence that came from vampires was out of their control, and many of the deaths that came from them were for a need to survive.  Hunters, however, had plenty of control over what they did, and though there were a few gentle ones like Adam or Kaden, most would do what they did for sport, if given the chance.

“Neither do you”, she shot back.  And he’d never had to fear them, either.  She’d read countless stories about the atrocities they’d committed, and so excuse her if she didn’t trust a hunter as far as she could through them.

Again, his questions about phoenixes gave her pause.  Was this information relevant?  “It depends”, she explained.  “Not always concrete memories that you or I might have from last week or last year, but it’s more like… glimpses or feelings.  Sometimes even that doesn’t pop up right away, either.  Most phoenixes end up with a touchstone through most of their lives to help them connect.”  The touchstones didn’t always work.  She felt an invisible buzzing pull from the stone around her neck, taunting and teasing.  

She blanched at his elaboration, embarrassed that she’d assumed so quickly.  She didn’t hate the idea of that type of job, if she were being honest- supernatural social work sounded extremely fulfilling.  “Maybe I am on the side”, she teased.

“If it came down to it, yes.  But even if I couldn’t, there are arrangements I could make, if I’m being completely transparent.  Do you think you’d do the same thing, if you needed to?”

“I agree- but sometimes an idea like that is hard, because the idea of a better society can be so subjective and even divisive, you know?  What you and I think might be wonderful isn’t going to be the same as Joe who works at Excalibur.”  It was true,  Excalibur Joe had told her more than once that he thought the world would be better off without traffic lights.  “That’s not to say I don’t think betterment can happen- it’s just that the hard part is figuring out exactly what that betterment is for everyone.”

“You're right,” Adam allowed with the rueful triumph of someone who felt pain after a headbutt but took satisfaction in his opponent getting the worst of it. 

“Hmmm that sucks,” Adam mused as Leah explained firebird memories. “Guess that’s why we haven’t just solved all history questions with a few Phoenix interviews,” he reasoned.

Adam was quiet for a time as he flayed off more worm skin and yellow cutaneous tissues. “Maybe that’s better though,” he admitted after a while. “Dealing with one lifetime of going through shit is hard enough to deal with,” said the young man who trained and exercised himself to exhaustion in order to sleep. “Having to remember like other lives of horrible crap too? Don't think I could deal with it, i’d completely lose it.” 

Well ok, lose it sooner than most Hunters, Adam admitted to himself, knowing that after a time the human brain can only see so much before you start to break inside. 

“I think you’d do good at it,” Adam noted, meeting Leah’s joke with earnestness. “A foster advocate for kids i mean.” 

“Mhm. My parents adopted Hunters who were orphaned or whatnot, and I’d do the same,” Adam explained, to the question of whether he’d adopt as if there were only one answer. “Whether I take in kids or am a father, I’ll teach em how to survive,” said the Hunter, something in his tone suggesting this grim promise was the purest expression of parental love. 

“People are never going to agree on betterment,” asserted the young man born into a world of war with a shrug. “We just gotta decide what parts of our ideal world we have to get by force,”  and when talking things out is better,” said Adam. 

Leah had her mouth open, ready and willing to argue more, when Adam said that she was right.  She closed her mouth, sending him a resolute nod.  She sure was.   If only it were this easy to convince Kaden.

“Maybe, but I think it’s more the fact that they’re so rare.  Knowledge about them might even be scarce on purpose, in order to protect them.”  Did Adam know about the healing tears? Would he understand why they needed protection?  “Perhaps every life doesn’t have to be horrible, though.  It must be torture to know you’ve lived, say… three or four lifetimes before but have no idea about everything you learned throughout them”.

She smiled sheepishly at his compliment, pressing her lips together in earnest.  “Thank you”, she started.  “It means a lot.”

Adam raising children into more hunters was decidedly not what Leah was talking about, but his comments about his parents intrigued her.  “You had a lot of adopted siblings growing up, then?”  She didn’t want to delve into what he might have meant by ‘teach them how to survive’.

“I guess I just wonder who gets to decide”, she mused, turning back toward the house as she heard her name called in the distance. “My ideal would be to not have to do it by force, but I suppose that’s why Luce insists I’m an optimist.” She let out a breath, pressing her lips together in a smile.  “Did you have any other questions… about phoenixes?”

Adam nodded. “I mean I have alot of family in general like siblings, cousins, so on. As a kid it didn’t make much difference which ones had my blood or not. Some little Hunters were adopted fully, others just came to live with us and be trained for a few years,” the Hunter shrugged, indicating perhaps that his household had been a lively place full of both laughter and endless preparations for war. 

“That’s always the trick huh,” Adam affirmed with a grimace. “With Democracy you just get mob rule and decisions made without long term planning. With some elite body you get corruption and unaccountability,” the frat boy noted with a salience his professors would never hear him express in class. “I don’t think anybody’s solved that question yet.” 

Adam glanced toward the house and looked back to Leah, brown eyes intent for a time, hands dripping with the slime and blood of the massive witcheater. 

“Thanks Ramirez, I think I have what I need,” said the Hunter with the soft finality of someone who’d just come to a decision. “....sorry for keeping ya,” 

#And From the Ashes #Torple #Phoenix #phoenixleah #chatzy #Adam #Leah

[winchesterwords]

“You and I” John Winchester x F!Reader

Summary:  Set before the boys raid the vampire nest to get the colt, John visits you to get insight on which vamps have it. Owning a bar, you are a highway of information for the supernatural and an “old friend” of johns. How will he react around you while his sons meet you for the first time?

Word Count: 3753

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol, lil steamy moment

Song I Wrote To: “You and I” by Lady Gaga

Note: This is a bit canon divergence but I liked the concept. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t write smut, but I hope this lil steamy moment was okay. I don’t see enough John fics on here or ao3 so I wanted to do something. I wish we would have gotten more of his character. Tho i think that’s just cause I love JDM so much. 

-------

In the dark of a lone American road, a 67’ Impala rolled along the rain-slicked street. 

“You have that look on your face again,” Dean Winchester said, looking over at his brother. Sam turned to him, confused. 

“What look?” he asked. 

“The look that says you want to either punch Dad or punch him twice,” Dean said with a knowing glance. 

“I just don’t get why he won’t tell us where we’re going,” Sam said with a deep sigh as he stared at the taillights of their father’s truck ahead of them. “He just has to make everything so damn mysterious.” Dean laughed as his thumbs drummed on the steering wheel. 

“You’re just realizing that now, Sammy? Dad has always been like this, but he knows what he’s doing. Always does.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sam grumbled and Dean rolled his eyes. In their search for the colt, they had gotten word that the break-in was perpetrated by a nest of vampires. The problem was, they weren’t sure where to start when it came to the bloodsuckers. Then, John had mentioned he knew someone who could give them a hand. That was all he said before jumping in his truck and telling his boys to follow him. Sam and Dean had done what they were told and revved the Impala’s engine, but now, Sam was getting restless. 

----

John Winchester drove with an eagerness.

He knew where he was going.  He had the route memorized no matter which direction he was coming from. You were the kind of woman that he couldn’t forget even if he tried. There was something about the way you didn’t take any bullshit when it came to anyone. Then there was the fact that you handled a sawed-off shotgun as well as any hunter he had ever met. John always liked keeping you to himself, his own personal getaway when things were getting a bit too dark for his tastes. 

However, unfortunately, this visit would not be a social one. He needed your help and he was running out of options to find the colt. If anyone knew where to find a vamp nest with a desire for a mystical gun, it would be you.

John hit the gas and sped down the road, keeping Sam and Dean in his rearview mirror. He was actually nervous for once. There was so much of his life that he kept private from his sons. Dean knew a bit more than Sam, but they didn’t know about you. They didn’t know about how you had saved his life twice or that you had asked him to stay with you on multiple occasions, but he couldn’t. You always understood that he had a mission to complete. Not just for Mary, but for his boys as well and you respected that even when all you wanted was a bit more time with the man, just as he did with you. 

Turning off the highway, John rolled into a town that seemed like coming home. Dean followed him through the winding streets as John drove straight for your bar. You had owned “The Iron Outpost” since before you had met the eldest Winchester. The entire building was lined with pure iron to keep unwanted spirits at bay. Not to mention the devil’s traps at both entrances and holy water you added to all the drinks.

You were pretty lenient with most supernaturals such as wolves, witches, even the odd vampire on occasion, but demons was where you drew the line. They never got past the door and if they tried, they would be met by you or your business partner, Dawn, who was also a hunter. The two of you had become an information highway for everything going on in the supernatural world and that was why the Winchesters were now at your doorstep. 

Parking in front of the Outpost, John got out of his truck just as his sons pulled in. Sam still looked annoyed as he got out of the Impala, but Dean just looked confused. “Alright, Dad,” Dean said, “what’s going on? Who is this secret contact of yours.”

“Never said she was a secret, Dean,” John said, “I just said you had never met her.” 

“She?” Sam asked. 

“She’s a hunter,” John said, nodding towards the front door. “Sort of.” 

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before following John into the bar. It was pretty crowded for a Tuesday night. The low hum of conversation rolled throughout the room as drinks were poured and food was served. Dean immediately spotted the odd charms that hung around the main entrance, as well as the warding symbols carved into the door frame.

There were two levels in the place and people milled about on both floors, smiling and drinking their fill. It was a typical place to find hunters and Dean immediately loved it. Sam was still a bit skeptical but remained optimistic that this place would offer answers. 

John searched the floor for you, but could only spot Dawn as she worked behind the bar, smiling at patrons. Moving further into the bar, John kept his eyes peeled for you. “Is she meeting us here?” Sam asked. 

“She owns the bar,” John said, turning to his youngest. “She should be around here somewhere…”

“Closer than you think, Winchester,” a voice came from above and John visibly relaxed as your voice reached him. Looking up at the balcony on the second floor, he finally spotted you. Grinning, you turned and jogged down the stairs. John’s eyes followed you as you approached him and the boys. 

“(Y/N),” he greeted with a smile. 

“Heya, Handsome,” you said as you walked up to him. “I’ve missed you,” you whispered as you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. John smiled down at you, taking in your face as if he was trying to memorize it. “And I see you’ve brought guests,” you said, peering over his shoulder. Though, it didn’t take long for the pieces to fit together in your mind. “Or should I say, family.”

“(Y/N),” John said, “these are my boys, Sam and Dean,” he introduced, gesturing to each of his sons. You shook both of their hands, smiling. 

“Wow, John, you never mentioned how tall they were,” you said, looking at Sam with amusement in your eyes. The youngest Winchester chewed on the inside of his lip, awkwardly. Turning back to John, you sat into a single hip, crossing your arms. “What are you doin’ back in my neck of the woods?” you asked. 

“Need your help on something, (Y/N),” he said and you recognized his tone of voice immediately. This wasn’t going to be one of your more...entertaining visits. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, giving him your full attention. 

“We may need a bit more privacy for this conversation,” he said, glancing around and you instantly understood. 

“That kind of ‘something’, huh?” John nodded, “Alright, boys. Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll start closin’ up early. I’ll send Dawn over with a bottle,” you said. John reached out and squeezed your arm. 

“Thanks,” he said. You sent him a wink and then disappeared to start clearing out customers. John led his sons over to the table he always sat at when he came to visit. Shrugging out of his coat, he leaned back and watched as you spoke to Dawn across the bar, gesturing to the three men in the corner. 

“Dad?” Dean said, gaining John’s attention. “How exactly do you know her?” John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“I met her a few years ago,” John began, “I was on a hunt not too far from here. Some large-scale haunting and I hadn’t realized there was more than one ghost. These were nasty spirits. Salt slowed them down, but every time I turned around, three more would show up. I was being cornered by at least four of them and I was out of rounds when (Y/N) showed up and showered them in salt,” John chuckled slightly at the memory. “Woman was like Rambo with a salt grenade and then she hauled my ass out of there.” 

“So you got your ass handed to you by a chick?” Dean asked, amused. John shrugged. 

“Twice actually,” he continued. “She came with me to salt and burn the bones when a vamp came out of nowhere. Freshly turned one too. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast with a machete.”

“But I thought you said she wasn’t a hunter,” Sam said. 

“I said she was sort of a hunter,” John corrected. “(Y/N) hunts when she can. Mostly local things to keep her town safe, but she has other...talents. (Y/N) is connected in the world of the supernatural. She always knows what is going on within the monster world.”

“What? Like having Wolfman on speed dial?” Dean asked and Sam kicked him under the table. Dean threw a glare at his little brother, annoyed. 

“Kind of,” John said, “it’s complicated.” Dean pursed his lips but didn’t press the issue as Dawn arrived with a bottle of bourbon and four glasses. She dropped them on the table. “Thanks, Dawn,” John said. Dawn grinned at him. 

“Good to see you, John,” she said. “Things have been a bit boring around here since you left.” 

“You know me, D, gotta keep moving,” he said and she rolled her eyes. 

“Right,” she said with a knowing look. “Alright, you guys have a good night, I’m heading out.” Dawn nodded to the boys and then gripped John’s shoulder as she headed for the back, ready to have an early night. Dean poured the drinks and handed them out, pouring an extra one for you as you finished up sending people home. 

John sipped from his glass as he watched as you dragged a very drunk psychic from the bar. “It helps me see better!” the woman complained, trying to stay on her feet. 

“Then go buy a bottle at the liquor store, Shay,” you said, hauling her to the door. “I got shit to do!”

“You are going to have a hard life, (Y/N),” Shay said, pointing her finger at your face. Then, the psychic fell over, trying to reach the door. 

“Bet you didn’t see that coming,” you quipped as she stumbled out the door. With a final dismissal of the staff, the Outpost was finally quiet. After locking up, you joined the Winchesters, gratefully accepting the drink John handed you. “Alright, fill me in.”

“Wait,” Sam said before John could begin, “how do we know we can trust her?” Dean rolled his eyes and John narrowed his at his youngest. You, however, had expected this. 

“Something tells me you have questions, Sam Winchester,” you said, downing the bourbon. “Ask away.”

“How do you get your information about the supernaturals?” Sam asked. You reached for the bottle again and poured yourself another drink as you spoke. 

“I have my sources,” you explained. “Not all ‘monsters’ are bad, boys. There are wolves that eat cow hearts from the butcher and vamps that drink blood-bags instead of people. If you know which ones are the less horrible ones, you can make deals with them. Offer them protection from other hunters in exchange for information. I don’t deal in demons though,” you assured them. “However, I do know how to summon one if the situation is that dire. Which it rarely is in these parts. Psychics and witches are also easy to find and very easy to bribe once you get to know them.”

“So you run a black market for information?” Dean asked. 

“That’s one way to put it, sure,” you said with a shrug. “I find that monsters are more willing to speak to you than other hunters. I offer them a deal and they usually take it.”

“What deal?” asked Sam. 

“If they prove to me that they don’t kill people and offer good information, I keep them protected and keep their secret.” 

“And if they break the deal?” 

“Then I kill them,” you said simply. 

“Just like that?” asked Dean. 

“Just like that, Dean,” you said. “Satisfied?” Dean hesitated before nodding. You looked at Sam and he did the same. 

“She’s good, boys,” John said and you smiled at him, gripping his shoulder. 

“So,” you began, “tell me what you need.” John turned fully towards you and you could see that he was exhausted. You weren’t sure when the last time he slept was. Then again, you hadn’t seen the man for months. A hundred different things could have happened since then. 

“We’re looking for the colt,” John said and your brows shot up. 

“As in Samuel Colt?” you asked.

“You know it?” he asked. 

“I do, but nobody knows where it is.”

“We did,” Dean interjected. “Another hunter, Daniel Elkins, had it, but it was stolen.” 

“By vamps, (Y/N),” John said. 

“What would vampires want with a gun like that?” you asked, confused. Everyone that knew about the supernatural was aware of the gun. It was legendary, but most people thought it was just a fable, a myth to tell monsters so they would be scared. You never imagined that someone you knew would be after it.

“We don’t know,” John said, “but we need it.” You sighed, placing your drink down. 

“I can ask some of my contacts, but I can’t make any promises. And as soon as I do, people, monsters, spirits, you name it, they’re all gonna know the Winchesters are after it.”

“We’re out of options, (Y/N),” he said. 

“I’ll do my best,” you said. 

“Aren’t you gonna ask why we need it?” Dean asked. 

“Not my business,” you said. “When you’re in the business in making deals and keeping secrets, you tend to learn to not ask questions. Excuse me,” you said as you got up and headed for your office upstairs. The three men watched after you. 

As soon as the door to your office shut, John turned to his sons. “Really? Did you have to interview her like a suspect?” He didn’t wait for them to answer as he got up and followed after you. 

“How well do you think they actually know each other?” Sam asked, watching after his father. 

“You don’t think…?” said Dean and then he cringed. “Not an image I needed, Sammy. Not at all.”

-------

Slipping into your office, John shut the door softly behind him. 

“Your boys are a lot like you,” you said from your desk as you texted away on your cell phone. John walked around the room as he looked at all the memorabilia you had from various hunts and adventures. Some he had even joined you on. When his eyes fell on the leather couch in the corner, he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. 

“Sam is like me,” John eventually said, “but Dean is more like his mother.” John turned and walked back to you as you set your phone down and walked around to lean against the desk. John met you there. You reached out and ran your hands up his chest and then over his shoulders. 

“You look tired,” you said softly, looking into his hazel eyes that stared back at you through thick lashes.

“So do you,” he pointed out. You shrugged. 

“It can be hard in my line of work. Never know when someone is going to need me up at three in the morning.” John nodded as his hands slid around your waist under your shirt, his large hands gripping you tighter. His thumbs rubbed along your skin. “I was hoping you’d visit soon,” you said quietly. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said, stepping closer between your legs. 

“I heard you mention the haunting we first worked,” you said as your hands crept up his neck and into his hair. 

“It was a tough one,” John said. “I should have done my research and of course, listened to the local bartender who told me the history of the place.”

“Yeah, probably would have helped,” you said with a grin. 

“You know,” John said, leaning forward to trail his lips along your jaw ever so slightly. “I never did thank you for saving me that night.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he nipped at your ear, your hands tightening in his hair.

“I remember you did,” you breathed out. 

“Oh?” John asked, innocently. Pulling back, he looked down at you with lustful eyes. “Would you mind reminding me?” With a hard tug, your lips met his and he grabbed your hips, placing you on the desk. 

John kissed you hard as he tried to make up for all the time lost between the two of you. You gripped him tightly, letting him take control. His hands moved from your waist to your hips and then your thighs as he took charge of your body. 

Sliding your hands from his hair to his waist, you ran them up his stomach beneath his shirt, feeling his hard chest beneath your fingers. John pressed in closer, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head back for better access. When he parted your lips, a small groan echoed from your throat which only made him more eager.

There was nothing better than kissing John Winchester. He was the only man to ever make you feel like this and the second he walked out of your bar, you craved him until he returned. 

Your nails raked down his back as he let go of your lips and moved to your jaw and then down to your throat. Leaning back on the desk, you let him mark you, feeling electricity flow through your veins. You gasped as he bit down just above your collarbone. Keeping one hand on your neck, he used the other to grip your thigh. Your leg came up and between his legs. John pressed his body against yours harder at the movement. 

You were flush against him, feeling his body fit perfectly against your own. He dragged his teeth along your throat, eliciting another moan from your mouth. “You’re gonna cause trouble if you keep doing that,” he whispered against your skin. “Not that I’m complaining,” he said as he lay you back on the desk, running his hands along your body as he leaned over you. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you warned as he grinned, wrapping your leg around his waist. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a smirk as he trailed a finger across your chest.

 “John,” you breathed out as he moved back to your lips, swallowing your whispers. 

Just as his hand began to move towards the waistband of your jeans, your phone rang. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as he paused. Detangling yourself from his body, you slid off the desk and grabbed your phone. John stood back, trying to control his breathing as he smoothed down his shirt. You fussed with your own clothes as you picked up the call. 

John didn’t listen as you spoke to whatever contact you had reached out to. Instead, he tried to come down from the high he had just experienced in that small moment with you. He had almost forgotten what it had felt like to have you in his arms, to feel you respond to his touch. His heart jumped in anticipation at the thought of having the opportunity again, he knew it was unlikely. They still had a job to do. 

“You’re in luck,” you said, grabbing his attention as you pocketed your phone. John turned to you. You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand and smoothed your hair. “I have the location.”

-----

Once the two of you had made sure you didn’t look like horny teenagers, you rejoined Sam and Dean. 

“I got it,” John said, raising a piece of paper in his hand. Your vampire contact, a nomad who you had crossed paths with occasionally had heard about two humans who had been taken by a nest. A nest that was gloating about getting the jump on some guy named Elkins.

“Just like that?” Dean asked. 

“I told you,” John said, “she’s good.” Sam still looked skeptical, but Dean seemed to be alright with how things turned out. 

“Do you guys need anything else?” you asked, trying not to let the sadness on your face show. You knew he had to leave now and you weren’t sure when you would see him again.

“We’re good,” John said softly and you nodded, crossing your arms. 

“Well, don’t any of you be a stranger, okay?” you said. “And for god’s sake be careful so I don’t have to hunt you down cause you got turned.” 

“We’ll do our best,” John said with a longing look that Dean caught immediately. 

“We’ll meet you outside, Dad,” Dean said as he grabbed his brother’s jacket. “It was nice meeting you, (Y/N),” he said and you nodded back to the both of them. As soon as the door closed behind them, you grabbed John’s arm. 

“You’re going after it, aren’t you?” you asked. “The demon. That’s what the colt’s for.” John grimaced and you sighed. He had told you about the yellow-eyed demon the second time he had come to see you. To most people, a conversation like that would seem like bad pillow talk, but it was normal for the two of you. 

“You know I have to,” he said, reaching for you. His hand came up to hold the side of your face. 

“I know,” you said. “He’s not gonna know what hit him when John Winchester shows up with Samuel Colt’s gun on his hip,” you said as you pulled him closer, your hand resting on the place his gun normally sat. You pulled his lips to yours and you kissed him fiercely. He melted into the kiss and you felt as if this was finally goodbye. You didn’t know why, but something about the way you held each other spoke volumes. 

Pulling back, you looked right in his eyes and tried to memorize those beautiful hazel irises. “(Y/N), you are...it’s been you for so long,” he whispered and you fought back tears. You kissed him once more, letting your lips linger for just a few seconds before letting go again. 

“Go get the bastard,” you said. John smiled at you. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

#winchesterwords #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #john winchester #john winchester imagine #john winchester x reader #reader insert #apolloloki97 #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fic #spn imagines #JOhn winchester fic

[ohmylove--mydarling]

It’s true what they say about your early-to-mid 20s. This particular span of ten blissful, wanton years is the only time in your entire life where you will ever feel truly invincible. And yes, you absolutely better enjoy it while it lasts. Lithe-bodied, hopeful, capable of both pounding an entire handle of rail vodka all while making it to your 8 am sociology class the next day, they’re a little like your teen years, with one prized difference. Your early-to-mid 20s are blessed with the seemingly novel, universe-bending element of freedom.

And freedom doesn’t simply mean the ability to make stupid decisions without the fear of getting grounded. It also means the freedom to live in an idyllic sort of vacuum, where you’re surrounded by friends – if we’re being honest, the family you get to choose – and cradled in this serene philosophy, this security blanket of an idea that hangs in the air but is never outwardly or directly expressed, that this, all of this, will last forever. That these people will always be there, they will always be around, floating with you in this bubble, as free and easily accessible as a coatrack or your neighbor’s WiFi. Always holding your beer, always holding your hair back (while you puke, or maybe while you cry), always holding your hand. Always at the very least in the peripheral, if not the forefront, of your vision.

During these years you know everything, and yet somehow you know nothing at all.

***

Like most of the sorority sisters I grew close with – and as is probably true with anyone else who pledged a very tiny chapter at an equally tiny school – I don’t remember much about how I met Taylor beyond the first night she “rushed.” Rush is an interesting social phenomenon, for multiple reasons. Picture a gaggle of young college-aged women who typically spend every waking hour of their day primping and glossing and adjusting for the sole purpose of the male gaze. Except this time, their attention is entirely drawn to a smaller group of girls (not that much smaller of a group, if we’re lucky this semester) that they want to impress instead. A frenzy of compliments and genuine interest, a dormant volcano of estrogen and hot girl energy and reciprocation, madly overflowing in a span of two hours over something as innocuous as an ice cream social or tie-dying a pile of crewneck t-shirts (I think we did the “hippie” recruitment theme every other semester). It is one of the very best parts of what is an often problematic-at-best Greek culture, and this rush was no different.

I’m not sure what my first impression of Taylor was, other than that we obviously had the same first name, and oh yeah, she was beautiful– effortlessly pretty but not the least intimidating. I could approach her and talk to her and not feel like a complete toad. She was a little soft-spoken, incredibly polite. I think she wore navy blue. And an aura of genuine kindness seemed to radiate from her with the soft glow of candlelight.

After rush ended and Taylor chose to join our ranks, where she belonged, it felt like she had been in my life from the very beginning. And, though this idea was never spoken, it felt like she would never leave.

***

In a sorority, there is sometimes a tendency, however unintentional, to categorize your sisters, and to turn to certain ones for different needs at different times. There’s the sister you study with, the sister you go on your morning run with, the sister(s) you are always down to party with. There’s the sister who makes amazing grilled cheese, the sister whose dorm is the only place you’ll binge-watch Supernatural. When you’re riding the waves of a breakup, you got mad options: There’s the sister who brushes your hair as you ugly-cry and choke on your own snot, the sister who pledges to hook you up with her brother’s hot friend the moment you’re ready for a rebound, the “dump him sis” sister who yanks your phone out of your hand in the middle of what is probably a very unwise text and threatens to stab him with her eyebrow razor if he so much as looks at you again, the sister who makes you forget the whole thing ever happened, that it ever even mattered.

There’s the maid of honor sister, the future fun wine-aunt sister, the sister you have on speed-dial even though speed-dial isn’t a thing anymore. There are the sisters who teach you how to do winged liner, how to hide a hickey with coral lipstick and concealer, how to chant, how to chug, how to memorize the Greek alphabet and the …numbers (at least for the ones who are most definitely going to ask). There are the sisters whose weddings you bawl at, whose babies you hold and immediately love as an extension of the incredible mother who brought them into this world.

And there are the sisters who teach you grace and humility, strength and resilience, kindness and self-love. The sisters who changed your life for the better the moment they put on your letters, the sisters who hand you the mirror and force you to see yourself just as they see you.

The thing about Taylor was that she was all of these. The whole package. Everything good, all in one.

***

Though our friendship was at its strongest during my college and immediate post-college years, Taylor remained a calming, grounding presence in my life. She married an incredible man who loved her for all the reasons we did and plenty more, and I went to her wedding and cried. She got a job as a nurse at the local hospice, a profession she seemed put on this earth to do. I could picture Taylor in her element there, literally surrounded by an entire ocean of grief, serving as an island of hope, a beacon of light and love for those who so desperately needed all those things, the things she provided us without question even when our lives were comfortable. Soon after – and this thought still makes something in my throat ache – she brought life into this world, a beautiful daughter with both her mother’s eyes and her genuine love and gratitude for life, a joyful curiosity coloring everything she did.

Taylor’s life, we knew, was finally the one she had always deserved.

***

I won’t, and can’t anyway, get into the details of Taylor’s passing. I can say that nothing about it was expected and literally every detail about it is horrific. Personally, it feels like a robbery, like something was taken from me; but on a grander scale, on a scale that actually matters, it is simply heartbreak. Riding the waves of grief not only for my own loss, but for a husband, a child, a family, a community whose lives were upended and whose hearts were crushed by something that simply should not have happened in a universe where they say justice and kindness exist.

Frankly, this grief is unlike any other I have experienced. It has a way of blanketing everything around me, like mosquito netting. It is as thick and choking as a cloud of black smoke, permeating my clothes, filling my lungs, making it impossible to see, so all I can do is desperately cling to whatever gives me the slightest amount of peace, no matter how fleeting. As someone who has always struggled with my faith (and moments like these certainly do not help), I try to remember Taylor’s. It brought her comfort and strength, the belief that God loves everyone so naturally she was going to love everyone, too. And all I can hope is that this belief of hers, this faith, manifested in her final moments. That there was a light, a voice, a presence, something there that reminded her that she was loved. That we knew she loved us, that her family will never be alone, that we will desperately miss her. That her legacy is as wide and expansive as all the oceans.

Her funeral is in a few days. Her funeral, a concept still as foreign as my own.

***

At this point it’s probably clear, but the things I want people to remember the most about Taylor are, quite simply, her kindness and her intrinsic ability to love. She was kind without questioning. She loved without strings or conditions, tirelessly and endlessly. At a time when an icy, impenetrable layer of cynicism seemed to blanket so many of our hearts – including my own – Taylor managed to crack it a little, to let just enough of her light and her warmth in to make a change.

I teased her often – probably too often –  for her unbreakable habit of bringing home literally any stray cat she ever found (and then naming it something either really cute or painfully dumb, like “Moe” or “Cheese”). But even as someone who unapologetically hates cats, and more honestly as someone who spent most of her 20s thinking that if I hardened my exterior and never let love in I was somehow protecting everything it surrounded, I viewed this habit through a secret lens of adoration. I adored Taylor’s heart. I hoped to absorb some of it, its ability to love everything, to find beauty in the darkest and loneliest spaces and to also force people to see it and feel it for themselves.

I felt Taylor was going to be around forever. It was a selfish thought. I hadn’t physically seen her in over a year (there was a pandemic and she was a nurse and I was subsumed by my own now meaningless world). I am filled with an omnipresent regret that I have no control over. I miss her so much my heart feels swollen and achy with a pining, a real grief.

There is no happy ending to this, no concise, comfortable, heartwarming way to wrap this all up in a pretty package, though Taylor was the type to want everything to have a good ending. So instead I cling to the memories, the photographs. Our banquets, homecoming, Lana del Rey, cherry blossoms. The way she rapped that entire A$AP Ferg verse one night. The way she looked in her wedding gown. The way she talked about charity and good deeds. The way she talked about God. Her love, no matter what transgression I made or no matter if I failed to give it back. I hope to love harder now, and if I can, it’s because Taylor taught me how.

I love you, Taylor. DZLAM.

[booksbeyondimagining]

Before the Devil Breaks You (The Diviners #3), by Libba Bray

Publish Date:  October 3, 2017 Published by: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers Length: 546 Genre: YA Paranormal/Historical Fiction My Rating: ★☆☆☆☆ (1 out of 5 stars)

Synopsis:

New York City. 1927. Lights are bright. Jazz is king. Parties are wild. And the dead are coming...

After battling a supernatural sleeping sickness that claimed two of their own, the Diviners have had enough lies. They're more determined than ever to uncover the mystery behind their extraordinary powers, even as they face off against an all-new terror. Out on Ward's Island, far from the city's bustle, sits a mental hospital haunted by the lost souls of people long forgotten--ghosts who have unusual and dangerous ties to the man in the stovepipe hat, also known as the King of Crows. With terrible accounts of murder and possession flooding in from all over and New York City on the verge of panic, the Diviners must band together and brave the sinister ghosts invading the asylum, a fight that will bring them face-to-face with the King of Crows. But as the explosive secrets of the past come to light, loyalties and friendships will be tested, love will hang in the balance, and the Diviners will question all that they've ever known. All the while, malevolent forces gather from every corner in a battle for the very soul of a nation--a fight that could claim the Diviners themselves.

My Review:

I don't even know where to begin this review. I feel like I don't understand what happened with this book? I loved the first two. They were breathtaking and wonderful and full of gorgeous characters, a setting that drew me back in time, and a plotline that gave me the best kind of chills. This one? This one just failed. Utterly failed. For a long time I considered Libba Bray to be my favorite author, but this book disappointed me so much that I don't know if I can anymore. What started as a spine-chilling paranormal historical story full of wonderfully diverse characters dealing with a multitude of problems, both emotional and physical, became what can only be described as a hot mess in this installment of the series. And not even the good, Evie O’Neill type of hot mess. Just, a mess.

What happened to the characters I fell in love with? It felt like they completely disappeared in this book. They were all trying to take the lead at the same time and instead of standing out, became lost in one another until it seemed like they barely existed as people at all, but rather caricatures of themselves. It honestly felt like Bray was just rehashing singular traits of these characters that had already been established in the first two novels, and rather than expanding on them and giving them growth, they all just felt very stagnant throughout the story. Or they would have a small moment, only for things to move quickly on before any true growth or resolution was shown despite the need for one. What irked me the most was how the perspectives would shift so quickly and often, literally within the same paragraph at times. It was like getting whiplash trying to keep straight whose feelings I was reading about. This translated horribly into the larger story arcs as well. Very often a plot point would pick up - Mabel and the Secret Six, Theta and Roy, Jericho at Hopeful Harbor - and the book would spend a little bit of time dealing with that, only for it to suddenly switch gear, drop it for multiple chapters (re: hundreds of pages), then to finally bring it back up again much, much later. This led to these story arcs (and consequently the characters) losing their momentum and my interest. I don’t understand why they weren’t intertwined more throughout the book as in the previous books, which balanced both the personal lives of these characters and the over-arcing plotline so well in comparison to this one. And the rest of the plot? A mish-mosh that felt like it was all over the place and completely tedious all at once. I wanted to like this book but I just couldn’t. I can’t tell you how many times I read a line or two and thought “Am I reading a rough draft?” Honestly, sometimes it didn’t even feel like more than a rough outline. Character emotions would pop on and off at random moments. They would do things that seemed to skip important movements in between. Descriptions were just sorely lacking. The first time I started this book (and yes, it took me two tries to get through it), I thought that I was unable to deal with it because it was 1. The early stages of a pandemic and 2. Filled with a lot of recaps of the books I had just reread. I thought it was just me. But it wasn’t. It took me almost four months to finish it the second time around, and only because I forced myself to do so because I wanted to know how this series ended and what became of my beloved characters. All I ended up wanting to do was cry. And not because of the actual story. Just how it was written. I never thought I would ever give Libba Bray a one star review, but sadly, this book just cannot earn anything above that from me. NOTE: The following is a more in-depth look at several plot points that I just want to rant about, and will therefore place under a spoiler alert. [SPOILERS BELOW]

We will start with Mabel, since she is the first character who felt like she had the beginnings of a story arc going on in this book. Mabel Rose, what happened? Again, here I thought she was going to be one of the main focuses of the book (such as with Henry and Ling in Lair of Dreams), but sadly her story just bookended the rest of the plots. But what annoyed me the most, was how botched her character became towards the end. She kept going on and on about “believing in people being good at heart” as if suddenly she had been blind to everything else? And don’t get me started on her believing herself to be in love with Arthur - she was in love with the idea of him loving her, because otherwise when they had sex, she would have been thinking of him, and not how she had beat Evie to something for the first time. (Speaking of, what was with EVERYONE having sex seemingly all at the same time? Was this some weird Sense8 thing?) In conjunction with that, we had Sam and Evie getting it on at the end as well. Now, this is one to unpack. Because let’s see - first, they were on the outs and fighting. Then, Evie was making the moves on Jericho again (and him on her). And things seemed to be actually heating up there (not that I cared). BUT, Jericho got all beefed up both physically and paranormally and suddenly became a raging neanderthal who ALMOST RAPED EVIE and they had one small conversation after he came back to his senses that didn’t really resolve anything, she left feeling conflicted, and then slept with Sam because he was “real” with her. *blinks hard* So are we supposed to ignore the fact that Evie wanted Sam to give everything to her while she still had unresolved and conflicted feelings for Jericho? Or did she make up her mind about him and we just missed that? Look, I love Sam and I thought it should have been him and Evie from the get-go (but not without some long-term dancing around each other), but not like this. It just felt...wrong. (I still hate Jericho. He’s dull. And he’s a philosophy nerd. It seems to explain a lot.)

AND ANOTHER THING! What the hell was the retconning about Sam and the circus?? It was mentioned like three times in this book? But never before that? All of a sudden he's a trapeze artist? What is even the point?  Finally, the other story arc that annoyed me was the Roy one. Mostly it was how it ended - Theta goes full Phoenix on his ass (and I was so ready for her to give him his comeuppance), only to be stopped at the last minute by Memphis who gives her a mini speech about “stopping you for you” so that she doesn’t feel guilt in the future (not that she should after what Roy did). Seems like a good time for some quality character development right? Well, after Roy runs away after screaming “I’ll get you for this” like a Scooby-Doo villain, Theta just smiles and kisses Memphis as if the credits are already rolling. No breakdown, no talking things through, no reassurances - nothing. Just, move on - next storyline please. [END SPOILERS]

#book review #before the devil breaks you #the diviners #libba bray #ya paranormal #ya historical fiction

[buffyversefanfiction]

Slayer of Slayers

Warnings:I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation.

15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft.

M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

PART FIVE LINK HERE

Part Six - What You Left Behind

Theo Frey had confronted his parents Buffy and Angel, fought with them, and even almost killed one of them, but in the end, he could not find himself capable of the kill despite managing many kills before that. If anything, he had thought he would only become more ruthless after becoming a vampire but clearly things were not that straightforward, but could it really be that dying made him more human? No, surely not he thought as he ran out of the backdoor of his former family home only to find himself hit by a shovel to the head, not seeing where it came from, or who was holding the shovel, as everything suddenly went to black…

Ruby Moon, the former best friend of Theo Frey, joined Theo when he first left Riverborn to become a lackey for the deranged vampire Drusilla in a bid to protect her best friend but instead, she too found herself briefly seduced by the darkness, of the magical kind, but as she spiraled further and further into the dark acts she began to see changes within herself she did not like and soon she started to see Theo experience the same changes at the hands of Drusilla and her right-hand guy Tobias. She had tried multiple times to convince Theo to run away with her, but he was in too deep and so the young witch was forced to save herself, leaving her best friend behind, as she returned home to Riverborn to live a relatively normal life which led to her graduating from Riverborn High, going on to college, and marrying her best friend’s former crush Lucien Knight but through all the changes, and developments in her life, she could never shake the guilt of not being able to save Theo from the crutches of Drusilla and Tobias. Her now-husband Lucien Knight’s life was as far from normal as possible going on to join a top-secret government organization run by ex-initiative operative Riley Finn, an organization which unlike the initiative itself worked alongside slayers, witches, and even werewolves to achieve their mission, protect the innocent. Ruby and Lucien’s relationship started out as a friendship formed in the wake of losing Theo but grew over time into something more solid, eventually leading to the two falling in love and getting married, a marriage that nobody saw coming but somehow worked very well for the two of them. “Well, if it is not the witch who loves to ditch…” Theo said as he awoke to find himself chained to Ruby and Lucien’s bed within their bedroom, as the husband and wife stood above him, hovering over him, clearly revealing themselves to be Theo’s kidnappers. “I heard you two got hitched but has the marriage already gone that stale you’ve started chaining folk up to the bed?” “I never ditched you, Theo, I pleaded you to come with me, but you made your choice, you were never going to leave that life because you believed you had nothing left in your old life, but you always had me,” Ruby replied to him, making it clear to her friend that she never left him out of choice. “I never should have left you and for that, I am truly sorry, but I cannot allow you to just keep hurting people especially now you’re a vampire.” “You may have left but you did not leave with clean hands dearest friend, or have you forgotten your own kill count?” Theo responded, taunting the witch who at one stage in his life was his best friend. “And as for the whole vampire thing, am I wearing a sign or something?” “Once you have been around enough vampires you start being able to spot them,” Lucien said, finally breaking his silence and adding something to the hostile conversation. “Drusilla manipulated us both got me so hooked on magic I could not think straight but your drug of choice was vengeance, towards people she wanted you to hate, and you did everything she said,” Ruby argued with Theo, before going on to say. “I also know you still have a soul somehow which means despite all the odds, all she did to you, to us, that you are still able to be saved.” “Listen love if your conscience stopped you from getting dirty with the big players that are on you and nobody else but do not go blaming one vamp for your miserable life which includes marrying my sloppy seconds.” Theo cruelly mocked his former friend, as well as her marriage to his former lover. “You are not the guy I grew up with, you stopped being him the day your parents died but that does not mean you cannot ever be him again,” Ruby responded, refusing to react to his attempts to infuriate her. “I know you better than everyone, including those vampires who you claim as family…and I know somewhere deep down you are still a good person.” “And if you prove us wrong…if you really are too gone to be saved…then before the day is over, I’ll slam open those curtains and watch you burn

until there is nothing left on that bed except for your ashes.” Lucien warned the vampire, making it clear that he was ready to save or kill him.

Buffy sat on the doorstep of her son Theo’s adoptive family home, the place he grew up, as she remained shaken by her first meeting with her son, the hatred he had for her, the fact he was now undead just like his father, and the opportunity he had to take her out and was not unable but unwilling which meant despite all the darkness residing within her son there was still some light in there somewhere. “There’s no sign of him anywhere my guess is he’s hiding out while the sun is out who knows maybe he will come back tonight,” Willow said to Buffy as she sat down on the doorstep next to her friend. “I do not think he’s coming back, not again, the only reason we found him this time is that he wanted to be found and something tells me he may never want to be found by us again,” Buffy replied with a saddened sigh, speaking for the first time since her confrontation with her son. “I will find him, Buffy!” Willow promised the slayer, making it clear she was not giving up on Buffy’s son anytime soon. “I do not know when or where but I promise you I will not stop until I find and help him, the proper way this time with no slayer prisons.” “I hope your right Will, I hope we can get through to him, but what if we can’t?” Buffy cried, feeling defeated not only by her son’s hatred towards her but the guilt she felt for the tragic life he lived without her being there to protect him. “I wonder if he came back here for any other reasons, I mean he grew up in this town, right? I know his parents are dead but what about other family members? Or friends he may have grown up with? We should go to the High School, wait till night-time, of course, break-in, and hack into the school system to find out what year he was in, who he was in with, and possibly look for some old files, photos, or perhaps a yearbook to see who his people were.” Willow suggested, hoping to give Buffy hope. “At the very least you’ll get to learn more about your son before his world got torn apart and maybe there’s something in that information which could help us help him in the long run.” Buffy’s face lit up for a moment as she wiped the tears off her face, realizing that Willow’s idea was a stroke of genius, that maybe just maybe learning more about Theo’s life before everything went to hell, that maybe it would help her understand her son more perhaps even get through to him, or who knows to find somebody within this smalltown who could get through to her son.

“I guess a lot has changed since our days in High School judging by the fact you have a vampire shackled to a dead and it seems normal to you,” Theo said to Lucien, as the vampire remained chained to Lucien and Ruby’s bed within their bedroom, as he began plotting his escape as he noticed the sun starting to set. “After you left town with Ruby everyone just assumed you went crazy and killed your parents, then this team of specialists took over the case, and before I knew it, I found myself embroiled in the mystery of it all leading to the supernatural being my day-to-day job I guess,” Lucien replied to the vampire he once loved. “I joined a private organization specialized in working with, helping, and hunting the supernatural from time to time, by the time the whole world had realized what the hell was going on around us I was already working to help solve the problem…problems.” “One could say you chased after me and settled for the rest of the supernatural…and that is clearly not all you settled for…” Theo teased the first man he ever loved, before going on to ask. “Do you remember the last time we were together?” “You mean when you asked me to skip town with you? It’s not something someone easily forgets.” Lucien admitted reluctantly, piquing Theo’s curiosity. “Do you ever wish you came with me?” Theo asked, intrigued to know the answer. “No!” Lucien answered honestly. “But I do wish I found a way of making you stay…” “Probably a good thing you did not join the party you probably would have just wound up addicted to the magics like Ruby or a soulless vampire like the rest of the gang,” Theo told Lucien, before going on to say. “I know you did not take a vamp hostage without getting in some blood…and I’ve not eaten in a while…do not worry I won’t bite, as long as it’s not pig blood you’re serving.” And just like that Lucien went downstairs towards the kitchen to get fresh blood in a pouch bag from the local hospital that Ruby and he acquired before abducting Theo, and began pouring the blood into a glass, knowing Ruby said not to feed him until she got back, but foolishly believing he was getting through to his ex, which is of course exactly what Theo wanted him to believe. Lucien returned to the bedroom, a glass of blood in hand, ready to feed Theo, unwittingly becoming prey to the predator, as he reached out to hand Theo the glass, Theo grabbed a hold of him and pulled him into his grasp with all his force, Lucien unable to break free from the vampire’s hold. “You smell as good as you did back then!” Theo stated as his face turned into full vampire mode and he sunk his teeth into his ex-lover’s neck, draining him of his blood but cautious not to take too much, after all, Lucien was his leverage for his latest prison break.

Elsewhere in Riverborn, Buffy, Angel, and Willow had waited for the sun to go down before breaking into Riverborn High School, specifically the principal’s office, as the slayer and vampire worked their way through endless files within filing cabinets while leaving the computer hacking to the tech-savvy witch who was more than willing to hack or spell her way into gathering as much information about Theo Frey as possible. “Well, I’m in the records regarding his grades before dropping out and they’re quite impressive, not like Willow Rosenberg impressive but not far off either, perhaps he would’ve got there if he finished school,” Willow informed Buffy and Angel as they continued searching through the school files. “I’m going to load up reports, detentions, warnings, etc.… to see if there is anything about who his circle was, and if not, thankfully the yearbooks are now all online these days so that should show us actual pictures of his friends…if he had any that is.” “Can you print out any pictures you find of him?” Angel asked the red-headed witch nervously. “I know it may sound weird, but I have hardly any pictures of Connor before everything…it’d be nice to have some of Theo, even one picture.” “Of course, the minute I get to viewing I’ll get to printing!” Willow replied awkwardly, knowing she was partially to blame for Angel not seeing his son Theo grow up over the years. “Print me out some copies too!” Buffy said with a sense of sadness, knowing pictures were all she could ever have of her son’s past even if it would never make up for all the time, she had lost with him.

Meanwhile, back at Ruby Moon and Lucien Knight’s marital home, Ruby had just walked into the horrifying scene of a shackled Theo in full vampire face, strangling an unconscious Lucien, with bite marks on the victim’s neck, as Theo held his neck tightly with both hands, ready to snap his ex’s neck if Ruby so much as made one single move wrong. “Girl, he was all fine and funky for our teenage selves but we’re playing in the big games now and humans are just so fragile and expendable.” Theo taunted his former friend, as he applied more pressure on an unconscious Lucien’s neck. “But that does make awfully good cannon fodder…” “Please do not hurt him, Theo!” Ruby pleaded with the slayer of slayers turned vampire. “You do not want to hurt him!” “Maybe I do or maybe you want me to, after all, what kind of wife does not take the husband’s name and I know we’re all modern now, but he did not take your name either,” Theo responded knowing he had the brown-haired witch exactly where he wanted her. “But what would I know about marriage? All I know is you’re about to be a widow if you do not get these chains off me right now.” “If I do let you go what’s going to stop you from killing him anyway and then me?” Ruby asked him, knowing the chance of either her or her husband surviving this ordeal was rather slim. “You can either choose to believe there is still enough humanity in me to not kill my former best friend, enough to stop me killing a man I once love, or believe me to be the monster I truly am,” Theo stated before chuckling sinisterly. “Not like you really have a choice…” A choice Ruby did not have, she’d either not free Theo and watch him kill her husband, or free him and hope he does not kill them both, and so she released Theo from his chains and to her surprise, the vampire just left, without attacking, or threatening her, he just walked down the stairs, out the house, and out of sight, without any intention of bringing her any harm, and whether he meant to or not at that moment he had convinced the witch that now more than ever her best friend was still in there somewhere, and perhaps just perhaps, she had grown a little closer to bringing him back.

Following breaking into Riverborn High, Buffy, Angel, and Willow had discovered some more information about Buffy and Angel’s son Theo, learning he was quite the academic achiever, never missed class until he dropped out that is and was always with his friend Ruby Moon, who just so happened to go missing the same time as Theo, the difference being that Ruby returned to Riverborn less than a year later. With their new information, Buffy and Willow waited until the next morning to track Ruby down, hoping she had more information about Theo, or even hoping he had reached out to her after returning to his hometown, not realizing they had missed Theo himself by a matter of a few hours. “I’m not saying this friend is going to be the answers to all our problems but at least she is going to provide answers in general about your killer kid.” Willow tried to reassure Buffy as she knocked on the door of Ruby and Lucien’s front door. “If she’s willing to speak to us that is,” Buffy replied as Lucien opened his front door to the vampire slayer, and witch. “Willow Rosenberg, my wife is a huge fan of yours.” Lucien greeted them, instantly making it clear he knew who Willow was, before going on to say. “And I’m guessing by your blonde-haired companion that your Buffy Summers.” “I guess the government constantly trying to hunt us down makes us kind of famous everywhere now,” Willow said, surprised by the stranger’s sudden knowledge of her and Buffy, remembering how much things had changed for them both in recent years. “I work for Riley Finn; he talks highly of you both,” Lucien admitted to them both. “I do not think I’m supposed to say who I work for but oh well you are friends of his, so I hope that saves me from being fired.” “Talking of your wife being such a fan, is she in we kind of need to talk to her about a certain situation.” Willow wondered, eager to get to Ruby and get some answers for Buffy and Angel. “My wife is going to be super pissed she missed you, but she’s gone out of town…” Lucien began to explain as Buffy noticed the bite marks on her neck, assuming correctly that Theo had left his mark. “He’s been here, hasn’t he? Theo Frey, the slayer of slayers, and now newly turned vampire.” Buffy questioned him knowing she was getting somewhere. “We are looking for him and if you have any leads…” “I was worried that one day he pissed off the wrong slayer…I’m sorry Buffy I really because trust me after him taking a chunk out of my neck and getting my wife into all sorts of trouble I would happily hand him over to you but my wife’s convinced she can get through to him so I can’t be the one to get him killed, she would never forgive me.” Lucien apologized, assuming that Buffy and Willow were there to kill the slayer-turned vampire. “I do not want to kill him I want to stop him from killing others,” Buffy replied urgently. “Please, he’s my son I just want to help save him from himself before it’s too late.” “Hold up…Theo Frey is Buffy the vampire slayer’s son? I mean we all knew he was adopted but his birth mother being the legend herself.” Lucien responded looking gobsmacked by Buffy’s revelation. “Yeah, she’s his mum and Angel’s his dad but right now all we need from you is to tell us where he’s heading so we can safe your wife from being his latest target and hopefully save him too.” Willow snapped at Lucien, making it clear he had to tell them all he knew. “Where is he going?” “Back to where he considers home or that’s at least what Ruby reckons, back to the city of angels so to speak,” Lucien revealed to them both, as the slayer, and witch realized Theo had gone back to the last place he considered himself happy, the demonic dive bar he had with his recently dead lover Tobias.

Several days later, a determined Ruby walked into the infamous demonic dive bar located within a shady alleyway somewhere in the city of Los Angeles, stunned to see the place almost in ruins, having been wrecked during Theo’s showdown with Faith and not being fixed since. She looked around at the place she knew Theo would have loved running especially with Tobias and for a moment she felt saddened by Tobias’ death, not because she felt sorry for the vampire himself but because she knew how much Theo loved him, and how rare it was for Theo to care about anyone especially after the death of his parents. “I personally never got the appeal of Tobias; I mean he was painfully beautiful of course but other than that I really did not get it,” Ruby claimed as she found Theo staring into thin air, sitting at a corner table of the bar looking somewhat defeated. “But I get he meant something to you and for that, I am truly sorry.” “Listen, witch, I gave you a free pass for old times sake but if you are going to keep pestering me, I’m going to have to kill you,” Theo replied to his friend as he turned to look at her, his eyes clearly red raw from crying. “Have you ever wondered how Drusilla randomly just showed randomly show up into our lives the same night your parents were mysteriously murdered by a vampire? Does not take a genius to figure out she’s your parents’ killer and something tells me deep down you already know that.” Ruby replied to the vampire, revealing to him what she already believed he knew and just did not want to admit. “Do you not think that thought crossed my mind a hundred times?” Theo snapped at the witch, as he rose from his chair furiously. “Dru said she saw it coming and did not stop it which was a hard pill to swallow but I did…but Tobias promised me that she never took their lives and I believe in him more than I’ve ever believed in anyone.” “Well, your undead lover not only lied to you about Dru killing your mother but according to strong evidence from a corporation who specializes in the supernatural he may have killed your father or at least knows the vamp who teamed up with Drusilla to take out your parents,” Ruby confessed to the slayer of slayers, refusing to let him be in denial any longer. “Face facts Theo if your parents never died then you would never have run off with them and they knew it! I get you to want vengeance so how about you get it on the bitch who really deserves it?”

#buffythevampireslayer #btvs #buffy #angeltheseries #darkhorsecomics #buffyverse #buffyfandom #buffyfamily #angelfandom #angelfamily #buffyfanfiction #angelfanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #buffysummers #angel #willowrosenberg #originalcharacters #vampireslayers #vampires #witches #werewolves #monsters #creatures #demons #part6 #partsix

[joontopia]

Evolver: Chapter 1

pairing: namjoon x reader, jimin x oc, jin x reader

genre: mafia!au, evolver!au, superpower!au, soulmate!au with angst, smut, & violence 

summary: Evolvers are humans with special powers. Your father, Min Seojun, is one of the most powerful businessmen and CEO in the country. Known in the underground as the most feared mafia leader, Zeus, due to his evolver ability. Growing up alongside your twin brother, Yoongi, all you’ve ever known was the harshness and dangers of the mafia lifestyle.  Until you met him...

word count: 3.7k

author’s note: this is the shortest chapter of the series. Most chapters will be around 6k words or more. Prologue and Chapter 1 are combined in this chapter. 

warnings: nsfw, cursing, soft dom!joon, bratty!reader

Evolvers are humans with special abilities. While some have come out to the public and flaunted their abilities, most keep their powers a secret. Evolver abilities could range from Elemental abilities to Mental or Superhuman. Evolvers are rare, with the tendency to skip generations in families. Most are feared due to their historic use of their powers for personal gain, typically landing them on the wrong side of the law. On the day of an Evolver��s birth, their eyes will turn a shade of red for the first full day before fading, not turning red again until each time they activate their ability. Evolvers’ abilities tend to manifest at a very young age. Although rare, evolvers can experience a phenomenon called a ‘pairing.’ A ‘pairing’ occurs when two evolver ‘soulmates’ touch and meet for the first time. If these ‘soulmates’ have not completed the ‘pairing’ and come into close proximity, they will feel a supernatural pull towards each other. When they touch for the first time, a burst of energy is released into the surrounding area. It has not yet been discovered what causes the phenomenon or the true meaning of this event. When two evolvers have become paired, they will experience heightened control of their abilities and, in most cases, develop new manifestations of their existing power. It has not yet been determined if every evolver has a ‘pair’ with only a few known pairs confirmed to have existed.

“Welcome home, Miss Min.” Myung, the family butler, was the only one to greet you as you walked into your family home. “How was your flight?”

“Early,” you said with a tight smile. You stood in the main entrance of your family home, still wearing the black skinny jeans, black hoodie, and tennis shoes from the night before. Myung gave you a smile of his own in return. Your business trip to Japan was cut short when your father requested your early return home. Having finished your business early, you were hoping to spend the next few days exploring and partying your way through Japan with your best friend, Ashley, who accompanied you on your trip. A business trip he insisted you take in the first place. Instead, you were met with an abrupt phone call from your father stating he booked you two a private flight back to Korea. Leaving at 5 AM sharp. “And you better be on it this time.” You knew by the tone your father used before he hung up that now was not the time to argue. 

“I’ll have someone collect your bags from the car and bring them to your room,” Myung said as he closed the front door behind you while you made your way to the staircase. You were already tired of the small talk and desperate for a shower. “I’m sorry, Miss Min, but I would need you to follow me to your Father’s office. He asked me to bring you straight to him the moment you arrived.” 

You stopped at the bottom stair, turning around to face the butler. “This can’t wait?” The annoyance in your eyes must have been apparent with the way Myung avoided your gaze. He slightly cleared his throat and quickly responded. “I’m afraid it can’t,” he said as he straightened himself and looked at you, “now if you would please follow me.” 

You step down from the stairs and roll your eyes. “Unbelievable, what could possibly be so important,” you thought. You walked past your family butler and towards the hallway that leads to your Father’s office. “Don’t bother, I know the way.” 

You make your way down the hallway, spewing off curses and complaints knowing good and well you wouldn’t be able to voice them once you are inside the office. Your father, Min Seojun, is one of the most powerful businessmen and CEO in the country. His business as an Arts dealer and hotel chain owner being fronts for his real position of power, the notorious mafia leader, only known to the world as Zeus because of his power. Your father was known in the underground as one of the most feared mob bosses and evolvers across the country. Crossing him is the last thing anyone should want to do, unless you had a death wish. That didn’t stop you, his beloved daughter, from pushing your luck. Being one of the only people brave enough to challenge him didn’t come without consequence. Your father’s evolver power is an elemental ability. The control of electricity. A power he shows no remorse using against anyone who crossed him, not even his own daughter. Not in the mood to deal with any physical pain, you decide you will behave during this conversation. Hoping that doing so will make it short and sweet. Your decision of playing the “good daughter” was cut short with how hard you threw the office door open. The door slamming against the wall before closing shut. “Fuck,” you thought as your father looked up from his desk. 

“Nice to see you too, jagi. Sit.” Your father glared at you from across his office, motioning you to one of two chairs that are positioned in front of his desk. You walk over and sit down, crossing your arms and legs while doing so. You both sit there in silence staring at each other. After a few minutes, you decide to speak, trying to mask the annoyance and tiredness in your voice with calm.

“So why exactly did you call me back from my oh-so important recon mission 3 days early? Surely, it wasn’t just for me to sit here while you enjoy my company.”

“A father can’t miss the company of his daughter?” Your father tilted his head to the side, still looking at you.

“You’re not the type. Why am I here and not upstairs taking a much needed shower and nap.” Your father chuckled, before standing behind his desk. He was dressed in one of his dark blue suits that he usually wears. Rarely have you seen him in anything else.

“You know, you are just like your mother.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember her.” Your father walked around his desk, ignoring your comment, and stood before you with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. 

“I didn’t realize I was keeping you waiting. I figured you would have informed yourself while you were sitting there,” he said with smugness in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, uncrossed your legs and brought your left foot up into the seat, leaning into the armchair to make yourself a little more comfortable. Normally the evolver gene would skip generations, sometimes multiple times. But not you. You and your twin brother, Yoongi, share a common ability, only differing in how you specialize in using it. You both have the ability of attacking the human mind. Yoongi specializes in inducing nightmares, bringing forth your worst fears and making them stay on the forefront of your mind. He also has the ability to take away or hide memories. Even able to alter them, something we like to take advantage of when we are called to interrogate an enemy. You, on the other hand, specialize in reading thoughts and locating memories that people try to hide. These were abilities that help establish you and Yoongi as some of the scariest evolvers along with your father. No one likes having their mind poked and prodded. 

“I'm running on only three hours of sleep after being thrown onto a flight at five in the morning. Forgive me for not wanting to put in any effort to do anything. Now what is this about?” You leaned forward in your seat, your tone laced with more spite than you meant to give. Your father frowned at your response. You can tell by the way your hairs stood up on your arms due to the shift of energy in the air that he is already growing tired of your attitude.

“Don’t forget who you are speaking to, girl.” Your father growled as he looked down at you.

Reminding yourself what you said you were going to do while walking in here, you plastered the sweetest smile you could possibly muster onto your face before saying, “I’m sorry, daddy. I guess I’m just really tired from my trip.”

Your father continued to glare at you, pursing his lips. Your fake smile has long since past the point of actually working on him. You started to wonder if he was going to continue to scold you when he finally spoke.

“I need you to be in attendance during our meeting with the Kims today.”

“Seriously… You called me back for a meeting we hold basically every week. Why not just bring Yoongi?” You don’t even try to hide the annoyance in your voice. This is ridiculous.

“Yoongi will be there, too. They specifically asked for you to be there.” Your father seemed unbothered by your annoyance. Not surprising to you. He’s only shown concern for your emotions barely a handful of times in your life. 

“Since when did you start complying to the beck and call of the Kims?” You said with a little edge in your voice, knowing good and well just the mere act of insinuating that your father is someone’s call boy would piss him off. Just as soon as you felt smug with yourself for your smart remark, you just as quickly regretted it when a spark went off by your left ear causing it to ring painfully. You involuntarily let out a hiss, causing your father to smirk.

“I don’t answer to anyone, girl. You will watch your mouth when you speak to me.” He was glaring at you again, eyes glowing red, and you could swear you saw sparks in his eyes. “I only agreed because I need you there for intel. Kim Won-ho has recruited his nephew to join his ranks and I need to know what their intentions are.”

“Won-ho knows what I can do. He’s many things, but he’s not stupid enough to leave his mind freely open for me to explore. Maybe he is offering his nephew up as another potential son-in-law.” You roll your eyes as you make that last statement. 

Your family and the Kims have been in a contractual partnership for as long as you could remember. You and Yoongi grew up alongside Won-ho’s sons, Seokjin and Taehyung, the two elemental evolvers of the Kim family. Fire and Ice, respectively. For the last few years, Won-ho has been determined to marry the two gangs together. Figuratively and literally. Only God knows how long he has been wanting this union, probably thinking he had a fighting chance when Taehyung caught you and Jin in a very compromising (but also very, very pleasurable) position. Jin was very quick to try and claim you and him as an item, which more than likely sparked his father’s campaign of joining the two families. Your father was just as quick to shut it down, demanding you to end whatever was going on immediately. Something you found easy to comply with, seeing that, for you, it was just fun. Fun that you and Jin did still have on rare occasions, despite your father’s order. Occasions that would still occur if that very handsome and deliciously wide shouldered idiot didn’t try and confess his love for you. He was so embarrassed from the rejection, he had Yoongi remove the memory from his mind. Yoongi happily accepted to help his friend, only after enjoying making the memory replay in Jin’s mind for a good 30 minutes. You had to give it to Won-ho, though. He had to have a big pair on him to continually ask your father for this union.

“Whatever his reasons. I need you there to seek them out. Is that understood?” Your father continued to stand in front of you.

“I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in this.” You stand up from the chair, glaring back at your father.

“You would be foolish to think you did.” He said, his tone so matter-of-fact.

“Fine. Is that all?” 

“Yes” You read from your father’s mind as he turned to walk back around his desk and sit down.

You turned around and made your way out of his office and back up the hallway to the staircase. Once you made it back to the main entrance of the house, you were greeted by your brother who was whistling the bridal march. You look up to see him sitting on the stairs with his back leaning against the railing, smiling at the obvious annoyance on your face. You look him dead in the eye, and watch his smile turn to a frown once you pull a memory of him pissing the bed when he was 6. He flipped you off as you laughed and started up the stairs.

“How was your trip? Heard you finished your recon early,” Yoongi asked as you walked past him. You looked at him suspiciously, wondering if your father sent him to keep tabs on you. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Your father always believed you to be the more reckless of his two children and, honestly, he wasn’t wrong. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t know how to conduct yourself on a mission. Yoongi, knowing exactly where your mind was going, answered your unspoken question. “Jimin told me.” 

“Ha, of course.” Park Jimin was one of you and your brother’s best friends. His family being part of the Min family mafia since before you were born. Him and your best friend, Ashley have been dating since you were kids. Both of them being the first evolvers you’ve ever known to undergo a pairing. “Intel gathering tends to be pretty easy when all your targets have a weakness for pretty girls. Barely had to read anyones mind or have Ashley torture them. It was very boring.”

You stand a few steps above Yoongi, leaning up against the railing.

“Well, it's good to have you back. It’s been boring here without you. I’m sure Jin-Hyung will be happy to see you,” Yoongi said with a wink as he got up from his seat on the stairs. This time it was your turn to flip him off.

“How is our beloved father today? Did you warm him up for me?” Yoongi asked as he walked toward the hallway leading to the office.

“Oh yeah. He’s a warm ball of loving emotion right now. Enjoy.” Yoongi laughed at you as he disappeared around the corner. You turned back around and continued to head back up the stairs towards your bathroom, where a much deserved shower awaited.

Namjoon looked out the window of his uncle’s car while they drove through the city. It’s only been two weeks since he’s moved up here from Busan, the city where his father was stationed to run his sector of the Kim family mafia. When his uncle showed up at his door, asking him to join his ranks in Seoul, it was a dream come true. Namjoon always felt like he was wasting his potential in Busan. Especially with the type of evolver ability that he had. Power of persuasion. Able to more or less bend people to do his bidding, even making them think it was their idea if he wanted to. He never really got to put it to the real test though. Only using it to settle petty squabbles against shop owners back home. Now on his way to a meeting with his uncle and cousin, he might be able to finally put it to the test. 

“So who's all supposed to be there today?” Namjoon’s older cousin Seokjin asked his uncle, who was sitting in the front passenger seat. Namjoon’s attention left the outside world and he turned towards his uncle, curious to know this information too. 

“Just Min Seojun and Yoongi. His daughter will not be there today. I asked, but he made it very clear. Apparently, she is still in Japan on her mission,” his uncle said, causing Seokjin to scowl in response. “No worries. She doesn’t necessarily need to be there for when Namjoon — how should I say this — talks some sense into Seojun about joining our gangs.” Uncle Won-ho smirked at his clever words. 

“You don’t think Seojun will figure out what we’re doing? Isn’t this a bit risky?” Namjoon asked. Tales of Min Seojun’s ruthlessness and power spread across the entire country. Ruthless businessman by day, sadistic mafia leader by night. Most only knew him by his code name Zeus. Only his business partners and close friends knew his true identity. Those who weren’t labeled as such were not allowed to live long enough to spill his secrets. Namjoon had no interest in joining the latter group of people. Won-ho chuckled from the front seat.

“Don’t worry about Seojun, nephew. Him losing our partnership will hurt him and his status a lot more than he is willing to let on. We don’t have much to worry about,” Won-ho said as their car pulled up in front of a tall building with dark tinted windows, the Min’s company office building. Namjoon exited the black sedan and followed his uncle and cousin into the building. The large lobby was mostly empty with only a few paintings decorating the wall, a couple of couches and coffee tables for a waiting area, and a receptionist desk by the elevators. 

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” The girl sitting at the desk greeted Won-ho with a smile, dressed in a black suit dress with her blonde hair in a bun. “Mr. Min is waiting for you in the usual conference room.” 

Won-ho gave the girl a nod and headed straight for the elevators. Namjoon, not wanting to be rude, gave the girl a soft “Thank you” and smiled, causing the receptionist to blush. He followed his uncle to the elevators, his cousin slapping his back behind him laughing. 

“You gonna flirt with every girl you meet up here, Joon?” Jin said, still laughing. 

“Just trying to make a good impression, Jin. What's wrong with that?” Namjoon laughed along with his cousin, Jin’s windshield wiper-like laugh being funny on its own. The three men entered the elevator. Won-ho pulled a keycard out of his pocket, placing it before a scanner located on the control panel of the elevator. When the small light on the scanner blinked green, Won-ho withdrew the keycard and pressed the button for the 7th floor. Shortly after, the elevator began to move.

“You ready for this, kid?” Won-ho looked at Namjoon with a serious look on his face.

“Ready as I’m ever going to be, Uncle.” Feelings of anxiety and excitement coursed through Namjoon. He looked at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors, readjusting his dark brown colored contacts before the doors opened. Namjoon and Jin followed Won-ho off the elevator, taking a left down the hallway.

“Jin-hyung!” 

The three men turned around to look behind them. Yoongi, dressed in a dark blue button up and black pants, was walking towards them from the other end of the hallway. 

“Yoongi-ah, new hair color I see,” Jin said, walking towards his friend and giving him a hug. Namjoon took a look at Yoongi again, now noticing his hair to be a light silver. Differing from the dark brown that it was just a week ago.

“You can blame it on boredom. Can I steal you away for a minute?” Jin and Yoongi walked further down the hallway and out of earshot. Namjoon turned and continued following his uncle into a medium-sized room that looked more like a parlor rather than a conference room. The room was low lit from the two chandelier type light fixtures that hang from the ceilings. There was one wall fully made of windows with little light coming through due to the dark curtains. Namjoon’s scan of the room was interrupted by his Uncle’s loud voice.

“Seojun, old friend. It’s good to see you,” Won-ho said loudly as he walked over to the man standing between two armchairs over by the far wall. 

Namjoon made his way over to that side of the room, following his uncle when he noticed a girl, arms crossed, leaning up against the wall behind Seojun, eyes focused on the floor by her feet, her hair loose around her shoulders.

“Woah, she’s beautiful. Is this Yoongi’s sister? No, wait. They said she’d be in Japan. Does Seojun have a wife? Maybe Yoongi’s girlfriend?” Namjoon thought as he looked at her.

“Whoever she is, I wouldn’t mind having a go. She looks like the fun type.” Namjoon continued watching the girl, scanning her frame. His eyes falling on her neck as he imagined biting at it as he had her pushed up against the wall, one hand by her throat while the other hand was trailing down the black dress she was wearing before raising her skirt. All of a sudden, the girl looked up from the floor, eyes snapping to his while raising an eyebrow, catching him off guard. She tilted her head to the side and reached up to start putting her hair in a loose ponytail, exposing her neck fully as she did.

“Can she hear me?” Namjoon thought as he eyed her suspiciously. He looked closer at the girl, focusing in on her eyes, finally noticing the faint glow of red around what appeared to be dark brown colored contacts. “Wait a minu-- “

Namjoon’s thoughts were cut off by the close of the door behind him as Yoongi and Jin entered the room.

“Hey, what a nice surprise. Y/N, you’re here!” Seokjin said with a smile on his face as he made his way over to stand by Namjoon. Yoongi continued around the room to stand on the left side of his father.

“Ah, yes. Let me not be rude,” Seojun said, turning to the girl behind him. The girl pushed off the wall, walking to stand on the right side of Seojun, across the way from Namjoon. “Namjoon, this is my daughter, Min Y/N. Mind reading evolver of the Min family.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he looked at you in realization. He watched your red-tinted lips slowly spread into a smile across your face as you gave him a knowing wink. Namjoon’s cheeks flushed red, mentally kicking himself over his last few thoughts. Ones that he knows you most definitely read.

“Fuck.”

#evolver #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts series #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader

[crazygalore]

JOHN MILTON / SATAN ( THE DEVIL’S ADVOCATE ) NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s never bothered with such things in the past, but he’s never had a stable partner before. You - being the only person who’s managed to capture his ancient heart - on the other hand, are the sole witness to his more tender and caring side. So, after a thorough session of lovemaking, Milton will gladly cater to your immediate needs, then hold you until you fall asleep with your head on his chest. Sometimes, he even tells you stories about his fall from grace and rule in Hell, his voice soothing you into a peaceful slumber. In his arms, you feel safe from the evils of this world - which makes sense, because he is theoretically the most evil thing in this world. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, he seriously couldn’t pick just one body part he enjoys. Partly because of his own legendary vanity, but also because he uses every single function of his body to further break the laws of God: With his eyes, he can watch acts that are not meant to be observed, with his mouth and nose he can sample and devour whatever his heart desires, with his hands he can touch and take whatever he wants, while his feet take him wherever he is unwelcome.

On yourself ? Honestly, Milton lusts for your whole being - body and soul - with the intensity of a thousand bruning suns. You are perfect in his eyes, a glorious creature he intends to love, spoil and protect until the end of time.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Anything goes. Cuming deep inside of you or your luscious mouth ? Fantastic ! Marking you with his seed ? Why not ! If you have a specific personal preference, he will gladly oblige. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is a master of the universe, a creature of immense power, beyond human comprehension. Sometimes, he is there even if you don’t see him, and he enjoys watching you commit daily little sins. His favourite, though, is definitely onanism - there is nothing quite like the sight of you laying on the bed, your hand between your legs and your soft moans filling the seemingly empty room.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Milton’s been fucking around since the beginnings of time - and he never abstained. He’s done everything at least twice, and some of the sexual acts he has engaged into are at the peak of human depravity. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Surprisingly, missionary. He loves being able to look into your lust-filled gaze as he fucks you into the mattress. That being said, you guys have probably tried almost every sexual position there is, except for extremely acrobatic ones - and only because you blatantly refused to risk dislocating a hip or a shoulder in the name of sex.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Depending on the mood, Milton is either serious and passionate, or goofy and mischievous. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps himself well groomed and neatly trimmed, like the vain fallen angel he is. Doesn’t usually shave down there, but he would di it, if you asked him to.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

You are the first and only person Milton has ever loved - and by the time he has met you, he was already anciet and embittered. He was drowning in a sea of darkness and moral degradation - and then you came into his life, like a glimmer of light and hope he didn’t even know he needed. Of course, he worships you body and soul, which is evident when he makes love to you, whispering words of adoration in your ear and peppering your face with tender kisses.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He used to do it whenever fancy struck him if he didn’t have a casual partner in handy. But ever since he’s met you, Milton no longer feels the need to indulge in this sort of recreational activity.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Everything under the sun. Seriously, he’s tried it all - even the more extreme stuff - and he’s not opposed to doing it all over again, as long as you’re on board. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

To quote the man himself “ everywhere “ - be it in the safety of your shared home, or someplace more exposed. Naturally, he won’t pressure you to have sex with him in places you are not comfortable doing it. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your overall presence puts Milton in a state of perpetual desire. However, he does have a thing for seeing you wear sexy lingerie and provocative clothes in general. In his defense, he never claimed not to be a dirty old man. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Personally, Milton has no hard limits whatsoever, and almost anything works for him. However, anything that makes you uncomfortable or endangers your physical or psychological wellbeing is out of the question. He would never, ever, intentionally hurt you in any way.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Why not both ? 69 happens to be one of his most favourite positions of all times, and for a good reason. He gets to taste your most delicate flesh, while having your pretty little mouth wrapped around his girth.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It truly depends on the mood. He can be an absolute savage in bed, but he can also make slow and sensual love to you. Regardless of the pace, making love to Milton is always a passionate affair.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Any kind of sex is great sex in his book - especially when he has you as partner.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Oh, Milton’s a huge risk taker, for sure, and he is always open to trying out new things with you, both inside and outside the bedroom.  

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Milton’s a fallen angel, a master of the universe, an ancient entity of immeasurable power - and he has a stamina to match. He could literally fuck you for a thousand years without breaking a sweat. He never cums before you do, and he doesn’t need time to recover after he’s reached climax himself.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yep, they are most definitely on the table. One of Milton’s favourite pastimes is tying you to the bed, with your legs spread and a vibrator taped to your most sensitive area and its remote resting securely in the palm of his hand. He will then go through a maddening routine of edging you and giving you multiple orgasms for hours, until you are practically in tears.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, he’s the king of all teases. There is no lover on this earth who is more unfair than Milton. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Milton’s not awfully loud, but he is definitely vocal. He will grunt, he will groan, he will moan and he will growl - but more importantly, he will whisper the dirties little things in your ear. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Milton can manifest his demonic traits at will - such as horns, claws, fangs, pitch black eyes and a long pointed tail. At first, he was hesitant to revealing these parts of him to you, but after you’ve expressed your appreciation for them, he began showing them to you more and more. The tail can come in handy during sex, if you catch my drift.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His girth is long and thick, slightly curved towards the tip. Big enough to stretch you to the point where pleasure meets pain.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Highest sex drive you’ve ever seen. He’s the goddamn king of demons, for crying out loud.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He is a supernatural entity of immense power. He doesn’t need sleep. But he will quietly lay down next to you and gently hold you in his arms while you’re asleep.

#the devil's advocate #the devil's advocate imagine #john milton imagine #lucifer imagine #satan imagine #al pacino imagine #al pacino imagines #my writing

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 11

AO3

Beta read by @thesnadger​!

Martin wants to do the right thing.

It's time to make some phone calls.

Martin resigned himself to a day of catch up. The recent circumstances hadn’t been the most conducive to completing his work tasks, but he was employed for the time being. He would wait for the right time to reopen the can of worms upstairs and in the meantime double down on the figures in front of him. The others went to work as well, going through the records they recovered from the library and verifying some information from the storage house.

After some time, he heard Sasha ask, “Martin? This place used to be a bigger fishing town, right? Before the Lukases showed up.”

Martin thought for a moment. “I don’t think it was that great to begin with? I’m sure they didn’t help, but the problem started long before I was born. There may be some people old enough to remember when things were a bit better, but it’s always been a shaky business despite the proximity to the sea.” He paused, then asked, “Is there a reason you’re looking into this? Doesn’t sound very ghost-related.”

Sasha tapped her pen on the table. “It helps to get a timeline of major events. Even if there are coincidences, a broader historical picture often helps with places where the phenomena are… far reaching.”

“What, did the lighthouse eat all the fish?” Martin laughed, but it quickly died as he continued to think about it. “...Could it do that?”

“Doubtful,” Jon said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop. “It’s possible the family saw an existing, natural decline in job prospects and swooped in to create an even bigger vacuum they could then fill. Nothing supernatural, just horrid people finding a  good opportunity.”

Tim snorted. “While they just so happened to buy and operate a possessed lighthouse?”

Jon looked over his screen. “People can have multiple motivations. For example, Peter Lukas apparently enjoys boating and taking the possessions of others for the fun of it. The two aren’t necessarily related.” His eyes dropped back to his task.

“Fair enough. Maybe someone in the family won it in a bet, then? Swiped it from some evil lighthouse keeper.” Tim wiggled his fingers.

Martin laughed silently through his nose and went back to work, assuming his part of the conversation was completed. If he’d learned anything from the situation earlier that morning, it was to quit before weird personal details about his deadbeat fisherman dad came out and ruined the mood.

The three continued to debate possible motivations and causes, eventually trailing off and lapsing into a focused silence. The scratches of pen on paper mingled with the tapping of the keyboard. It created an arrangement that echoed over itself in a round, filling the space and tunneling upward along the staircase. Despite himself, Martin strained to hear anything that felt out of place, but he could feel no intent in the repetition. It was loud, but it was the normal, unnerving loud he’d become accustomed to over the last few months.

There wouldn’t be anything, as long as he kept the dial in the correct position. Not anything he could perceive, anyway. Were they listening, even if they couldn’t stockpile his words? Were they seething at his decision? Were they-

Martin gritted his teeth, willing himself to focus on the page in front of him. The group would call Naomi soon, and if she responded they would be one step closer to confirming his suspicions. For the time being, he would sit with his churning insides and wait.

Relief came at eleven with his lunch hour, which the others were considerate enough to wait for. He barely tasted the sandwich he’d thrown together that morning. There was a heightened atmosphere spread across him and the others, a buzz of excitement. After hours of necessary but tedious paperwork and discussion, it was time again for action.

Sasha dialed the number and waited, drumming her fingers on a pad of paper in front of her. “Available number,” she mouthed, giving a thumbs up. A few seconds passed, and she frowned and ended the call. “But, of course, it is no longer her number. I would change mine too, if people were tailing me.”

They all slumped in their chairs and braced themselves for a long, slow afternoon as Sasha looked at her pad of paper and dialed the first number on the list of many, many Naomi Hernes.

Some answered with varying levels of politeness, mostly responding with “never heard of the place” or “the name doesn’t ring any bells”. Otherwise, she left a short, scripted voicemail giving little information other than Evan’s name in hopes that Naomi would take the bait. She kept their institute out of it entirely.

When asked why, Sasha explained that this part of the investigation would have to be off record. Evidently, the Magnus Institute encouraged thorough research until it involved digging into its own benefactors. Unless they discovered a lead that didn’t implicate the Lukas family, they would be on their own.

The minutes ticked on, dragging more and more with the lack of success. After thirty minutes of fruitless calls, Sasha said, “It may take a while. We don’t know her schedule or if she’s even on this list. I was able to go off her last recorded location, but that’s about it.” Sasha leaned back in her chair, stretching her shoulders.

Jon pulled his laptop back in front of him. “We’ll need to give her time. If she’s aware of the Lukases keeping tabs on her, she’ll probably be wary of us. Keep going through the list. Tim and I will continue with the rest.”

Martin sat around for the rest of his lunch hour, losing hope with each passing call. He ought to have considered how long it could take to reach her, or that she might not answer at all. Why would she? What reason did she really have to trust a bunch of strangers?

He looked down at his phone, mindlessly flipping between apps before settling on his notes. Under Naomi’s old number was the one for Evan’s mobile, locked safely away in the storage house. Running his thumb up and down the side of his phone, he peeked up at the others through his bangs.

“I know we’re waiting to hear back from Naomi, but-” They looked at him, and he swallowed hard. “We know who it probably is, right? We have something he would know, and we could even-”

“Sorry, Martin, but that’s a big ‘no’ from me,” Tim said, crossing his arms. “If it’s him, he can wait a bit longer. If it’s not, then there could be something bad on the other side that we’re not ready to deal with, something that might even pretend to be him given the opportunity.”

There was an edge to his voice that made Martin shrink sheepishly in his seat. Tim’s face grew soft. “You want to help. I get it, but we should play it safe for now. Once we’re certain of the situation, we’ll do the heroic thing and release his trapped soul or get him out of the sound booth he’s locked himself in or whatever it is that needs to be done.”

Martin nodded glumly and looked back at his phone. After a moment, a notification popped up on the screen.

Tim: and if we get him out and hes as hot as they say he was, then who knows ;)

All the tension in Martin’s shoulders was released with a high-pitched snicker that his hand failed to stifle. The other two turned their gazes on him. Martin’s ears turned beet red at the attention he’d brought upon himself. Jon shot a suspicious glance at Tim, whose broad smile denied nothing.

--

By twenty minutes to four, there had been no sign of the person they were hoping for, ignoring  one response by someone who thought they were being hilarious. Martin had only one task remaining before it was time to leave, and once his things were carefully packed away he walked over to the stairs and placed a hand on the rail. From behind him came the sound of chairs squeaking against hard tile.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the three had all risen from their seats and were shooting surprised looks at each other.

Martin sighed. “I’m just going up for my normal work stuff. I won’t be touching anything I’m not supposed to.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but if he’d wanted to do anything there in secret, which he didn’t, there was no point in doing so when other people in the building could hear every amplified word.

“Well, I’ll be coming up anyway. Might as well get a better look at what buttons you’re pressing.” Tim jogged over, waving a hand at the other two dismissively and calling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Keep an ear on the phone and text us if something comes up.” Jon and Sasha, who’d clearly been about to walk over and join them, sat down despite their visible apprehension. Tim started up the stairs, leaving Martin to trail behind.

Before long, Tim began to rely more and more on the handrail to keep his balance. About halfway up the stairs, he held up a hand for Martin to stop and dropped his head.

“Okay,” he said, flexing his grip on the rail. He took a moment to breath. “Okay, I’m good. Damn this place, though.”

When they reached the top, Tim faced the stairs and, at a regular speaking volume, said, “Hello? Tim Stoker to Boss Man.” He waited, then checked his phone. “Huh. Guess sound does have limits in this place. Good to know.” Tim smiled at Martin. “Let’s see those switches, then.”

Martin could see that Tim’s eye was just as drawn to the dial as Martin’s as they approached the panel. Martin slowed down his process, taking care to show Tim what he was doing with the different buttons and knobs, and Tim seemed to be taking notes on his phone.

“If it would help, I have a list of everything I do up here on my desk. My handwriting isn’t the best, but it’s legible.” Martin continued to complete the steps without thinking, allowing muscle memory to take over. “Not that I’ve looked at it super recently. I also have the version in my work contract? But that would have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe there’s a hidden ‘I cede my right to file a claim against any injury due to imprisoned spirits’ clause or something in the fine print.” Martin laughed weakly but said nothing. Leaning on the side of the panel, Tim looked at him. “You really think it’s the guy? Evan?”

Martin’s finger slipped, missing a button entirely. “...Yeah. I can’t think of anything else it could be? And I get it, there are some things I don’t know about-”

“Lots of things, actually. Look,” Tim stood up straight, crossing his arms. “I’m not usually the lecturing type, but you seem like a well-meaning guy, and this thing could very well be taking that from your voice and turning it back on you.” There was an unmistakable discomfort, though Tim was doing his best to look authoritative. “You’re not used to this stuff, but most of it ends up being not so nice.”

Resuming his task, Martin looked down and asked, “Have you ever… studied something like that?”

From the corner of Martin’s eye, he could see Tim shift a bit and lean against the panel again. “They’re something I’ve worked on, yeah.”

After a final flip of a switch, Martin looked back at Tim whose gaze was firmly centered on the window. Martin rolled his fingertips on the surface of the panel. “Any personal experiences or advice? For my benefit?”

Tim took some time to think, and without taking his eyes from the window responded, “If you can shut them up, make sure they stay that way.” Tim let out a breath through his nose. “And if someone’s got by one, chances are they won’t be kept alive. Once a copy is made, there’s no reason to keep the original.”

The bitter twinge in Tim’s voice warned against the questions forming on the tip of Martin’s tongue. If Tim was talking from experience, the specifics were none of Martin’s business.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tim shook his head. “So, since I was the one who turned the dial, do me a favor and keep away from it?” When Martin nodded in agreement, Tim uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the panel. “Good. It’s a deal then. Now, when we get back down, we can pretend to have had a riveting talk about how fish hate your town.”

--

Once they were back on the main floor, disappointment washed over Martin. “Was it too much to expect anything back so soon?” He looked through his bag, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

“You get used to it.” Sasha paused from collecting some papers to watch him sulk in his corner. “Can’t tell you how many follow-up calls I’ve made that led to nothing.”

“Or all the numbers we’ve gotten that were for takeout places,” Jon grumbled.

“I dunno, I’ve been pretty lucky with numbers.” Tim winked at Sasha, who shoved some of the papers into his arms.

Martin smiled, though Tim’s comment reeked of forced levity. He zipped up his bag and walked to the door. “Let me know if anything comes up?”

“Of course.” Jon pushed himself out of his chair and walked at a brisk pace to meet him. “Could I have a word with you, before you head home?” He opened the door and gestured outside.

“Oh. Sure?” He avoided Tim’s very pointed eye contact and walked through the door. Jon followed behind with his arms wrapped around himself, his thin, long-sleeved shirt doing nothing for him in the cold. “Do you need to-”

“I’ll be back inside in a moment.” His stubbornness did nothing to protect him from the shivers. “About tonight.”

With all excitement and distraction gone, the weight that had been balancing precariously in Martin’s chest dropped to his stomach like a lead ball. “Is there a way to make this not horrible?”

Jon frowned. “I don’t know the full circumstances, but ultimately, I believe you’ll be doing the right thing.” He placed a tentative hand on Martin’s shoulder and gave it a stiff pat. He immediately retracted his hand and wrapped it back around himself, keeping his eyes on anything but Martin. “You know her better than I do. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Martin clung to that confidence and the feeling of pressure from Jon’s hand. “Okay...” He took a large breath. “Okay. I should get going then. No point in putting it off.”

Jon nodded his head and hurried back inside, leaving Martin to walk home with more courage than he’d managed to gather for himself. As the sun drifted closer to its exit, Martin latched onto that little encouragement and thought of what to say.

“Hi, Mum. I found your skin? No, that sounds weird-”

“I know there are things I don’t understand, but-”

“Mum, I found this in the attic. I know it’s yours. Do you want to-”

“A guy from work said to give you this? Wait, no-”

And so he continued, muttering under his breath all the ways he could broach the subject without it being a complete disaster.

This could change things.

Would she scream? He’d never heard her truly scream. It wasn’t her way, but this could unlock something so much worse than he’d known. How dare he bring this to her if she’d hidden it for a good reason? That seemed a likely reaction.

Would she talk to him about her time in the water? Would she reminisce about a time before things went wrong, when he would watch her from the porch? Too hopeful to consider, but nice to think about.

Perhaps she would tell him to return it to the attic, and it would never be spoken of again. Things would be as they always were, just with a new secret to hang over them both. Another weight on their shoulders, another little barrier keeping them from being anything but what they had been for decades now.

Jon had said it would be the right thing to do. He would know about these things more than Martin, right? His word had to be worth something. No matter how she might react, this had to happen sooner or later.

The walk home sped past like nothing. The front door was before him, and then closed behind, and he felt more than ever like he was on a track, being moved from place to place without any consultation of his will. The night proceeded like clockwork, dinner prepared and completed with only his voice and the occasional terse response from his mother for filler noise. It wasn’t yet time.

The fog had rolled in thick as evening turned to night, and they looked out into it from the front porch, her breaths steady and bracing. Through his barely open eyes, Martin saw a hint of rolling waves before the salt brought out the tears and washed away his vision.

He walked his mother back inside and helped her prepare for bed. Once she was settled against the headboard, Martin coughed and began in a low, gentle tone. “Mum. Can I talk to you about something?”

She frowned, tired contempt rippling across her face. “Must you now? You’ve had all night to talk.”

Martin clenched and unclenched his teeth. “It’s important. Please, it’s...it’s about something I found in the attic.”

His mother froze, her hand gripping the quilt on her lap. Annoyance gave way to a wide, blank stare that brushed just over his shoulder. “I did not ask you to retrieve anything from there.”

Martin shrank back. “Yes, I know. I just went up to make sure there hadn’t been a-any issues with the roof after some of the rain recently since we keep some things in storage up there, and I wanted t-”

“Bring it to me. Now.” Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Martin stood too quickly, grabbing the rickety bedside table for balance and causing a loud thump as one of its legs slammed into the ground. The dim lamp on top of it wobbled, creating unnerving shadows on the walls. He winced. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room and let himself breathe. Okay, he thought, this was a good thing. He walked up the stairs two at a time with his long legs, speeding down the hall while keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible. She wanted him to bring it to her. He would do as she ordered. Everything would be okay, he told himself, ignoring the strange sinking feeling in his gut.

It was where he’d left it, folded loosely in the corner to avoid any possible creasing. It pressed heavily into his hands, and he brushed off a little more dust as he walked back down the stairs. At his mother’s door, he paused and adjusted it one more time to a position he felt was the most dignified. Then, he entered the room.

She was looking out her window, through the misted glass and into the fog that surrounded their home. Her hands were limp over the quilt, one placed gently on top of the other. When the door clicked shut behind him, there was an almost imperceptible turn of her head, though he couldn’t see anything but her clenched jaw.

“Mum? I’ve brought it. Do you want me to place it on the bed? I-”

His mother turned to face him fully, and as her eyes locked onto him a torrent of pure fury slammed into his chest. He stumbled, the selkie skin almost escaping his large, clumsy hands.

“Give it to me.” Her rasping voice made Martin’s throat hurt, and her neck seemed to throb with effort. When he failed to move his legs, she forced out, “now, you stupid man!”

He tripped forward, and when he was within reach she snatched the skin from him. She clasped it to her chest just as Jon had that morning, with the same smoothing motion over its surface. Unsure of what to say, he became a statue. Every muffled intake of air burned down into his chest.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his mother whispered, “Leave.”

“What?” There was a painful crack in his voice.

“Leave me alone.”

--

The only thing he could see were his own near-faded footsteps as he climbed up the cliff side, the fog doing well to obscure the surrounding foliage.

He needed to be out of the damned fog. That’s why he’d fled the house, and the beach, and the crashing waves. That’s all it was down there, a house adrift in grey nothing, and he was too loud of a presence to truly give her solitude with his tramping feet on the floorboards upstairs.

It was past sundown when he reached the end of his climb, and the corner lights looked as much as they had the night before. As they had on any other night he’d spent wandering the dark, emptying streets. Pulling his coat more tightly around himself, Martin marched forward, drawn to the only other place to which he had a key.

He looked up before he could think too hard about it, and the sky bore down on him until all he could do was fall back into the gaping pit waiting just behind his heel. Had it felt like this before? Yes, it had, hadn’t it? A giant emptiness in the ground waiting to swallow him whole, and as he had seen it, so from it the vertigo had come. Only now it was polite enough to slow down and let him see the horror below.

He woke up on the ground with a groan, just outside of the florist shop. It was closed for the night, and there was no one inside or out to stare as he lifted himself out of a puddle, the arm of his coat soaked through with water. He was halfway through trying to regain some semblance of focus when he realized his glasses had fallen from his nose and were now lying on the ground beside him.

Relieved that his impaired vision was no worse than usual, he reached over to pick up his glasses. As he did so, he glimpsed at the water’s surface, and for just a moment the blurry vision of his face looked just enough like someone else. He gasped, snatching his glasses and scrambling to sit on the curb.

She’d never called Martin that. She’d had other ways of showing her frustration with him, but that… that had been for someone else. Of course. He hadn’t even thought to warn her of his re-entry, so he had gone into her room and with just that lamp by her bed the doorway must’ve been so dark-

The pounding in his head grew more fervent, and he curled into himself until he faced the ground, head between his knees. As the minutes crawled by, the pain began to subside, and eventually he was able to stand, even if there was a slight shake to his legs.

“Twenty years and still you don’t learn.”

He continued without reason, thankful for the empty road ahead, his arm going cold in its dripping sleeve.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au #jonmartin