#so only the ones with a j in their name survived.. inch resting

[rinko-fujinami]

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #stardust crusaders #ova #jean pierre polnareff #jotaro kujo #joseph joestar #1993 #90s anime #jojo ova #so only the ones with a j in their name survived.. inch resting #also #desthaton

[meloswifeyyy]

Relationship Alphabet

A - Attitude

Who often has the worst Attitude ?

Well, you obviously. Most of the time because you are hungry or you and Melo just got out of an argument. Melo usually fucks the attitude out of you anywhere, anytime tho.

B - Baby

Who wants Babies the most - first ?

Melo. He often jokes about having kids or when you are having sex he would whisper in your ear  “You trynna have my babies?” or  “You boutta have my babies ” when he nuts in you. He says that he wants 3 or more. You only want 2. You arent rushing into it.

C - Crying 

Who Cries the most in the relationship ?

You. You often cry alone when you miss Melo when he is at away games for so long. Or when your BP triggers, Melo would comfort you. When watching sad movies, or when someone you love dies. Tears of joys appear here and there. Or when you get into arguments and Melo says something wrong or disrespectful out of madness.

D - Dates 

Who has the best Date spots ?

Melo. He would often take you to fancy restaurants in L.A or Miami, or wherever you guys went. Or take you shopping at an expensive place. He would do dates at home like watching movies, have you cook dinner because he cant cook for shit, or he would have a bath waiting on you. 

E - Eat 

Who Eats the most ?   

You. You know damn well you cant survive without food. Its the 2nd best thing that has ever happened to you besides life and Melo. Cant even survive a night. If you would wake up in the middle of the night and get hungry and go to kitchen and try to sneak some food without waking Melo up, he would hear it and go to the kitchen and scare you, picking you up over his shoulder with one arm, and with the other putting the food away carrying you back to the bed because its a little to early in the morning to be eating. 

F - Freak 

Who is the Freakiest ?  

Both of you. You being the only girl that can fuck Melo like you do, and being the only girl Melo is sexually, physically, and mentally attracted to no other girl can do it like you.10/10 in bed. Now Melo on the other hand is a demon in bed. His strokes, hitting your G - Spot constantly with you feeling it in your guts. His 9 inch is almost  always on hard when he is around you. And his tongue is crazy, going in and out and on the pearl AT THE SAME TIME. Crazy right. Spelling his name out on you. He loves when you scratch his back up or give him hickeys everywhere. 10000/10. Makeup sex is the best. 

G - Games 

Who wins the most games ?  

Melo. He would always dare you to a game of Call of Duty or Fortnite to see who would win first. And he would always win. When you would play a game of Uno you would often win and he would be mad the rest of the day due to his competitiveness. But any other game he would win.

H - Happy

Who is the Happiest in the relationship ?  

Both of you. You are always happy when you guys are around each other. Even when you guys just got done arguing you are still happy that he is in your presence. Melo on the other hand is always happy with you around him, he loves to cuddle with you. Its one of his favorite thing to do. He just loves that you are in his presence. You are his other half.

I - Irreplaceable

Who is the most Irreplaceable ?  

You would say Melo but Melo would say you. Melo knows how to deal with you more than anyone else does. He knows all your spots and what you like and dont like. He notices all of your flaws and sees the good and beautiful in them. He knows your body, mind, and soul. No man has a better or brighter or bigger smile than him. He always brightens the mood. You on the other hand are different. A big beautiful smile. You know how to deal with Melo when he is sad, looses a game. You can tell when he is lying or telling the truth just by looking through his eyes. You know how to make him happy. You are the best he has ever had.

J - Jaded 

Who gets the most Jaded after doing something ?

Melo. He usually gets really bored after sitting in the house all day. He really wants to leave the house and do something fun but usually its night time and you would be taking a nap or would be sleep. 

K - Kisses

Who gives the most kisses?

Melo. He is always so clingy and that comes with all the kisses in the world. He kisses you all over your face in your sleep, even when you are sleep he gives you kisses. He loves to kiss all over your body.

L - Love

Who fell in love the fastest?

Melo. He had always had a crush on you and everyone knew you were the one for him. You just didn’t know it until you two started dating. He’s always making sure you are good. He loves your hugs. He was the first one to say “I love you”. He want kids you to have all 10 of his kids.

M - Motivation

Who gives the most motivation?

You. When melo is going to a game and is not having a good feeling about it you motivate him to push through it and win for you. 9/10 he will win or get a lot of points for you.

N - Night Owl

Who is more of a Night Owl?

Both of you. Sometimes when his ADHD is on 10 you guys stay up and listen to music, play games, go on ig live, or just fuck for 7 hours straight. Sometimes you have to tell him to got to sleep or put him to sleep (😏) because he has a game tomorrow and needs all the rest and energy he can get. It also the same for you.

O - Oral Sex

Who gives Oral Sex the most?

Melo. Trust me, you give him head a lot and it’s amazing, 10/10. But melo loves giving you head. He loves to spell his name out on you. Loves to see the faces to make you scream and shout. Loves sharing your cream with you (🥲). He loves to climb under the blanket while you are sleep for some breakfast in bed. Maybe even dinner. His lips make it even better. So glad he don’t got them white genes in his lips (😋😭).

P - Perfect

Whos perfect?

Obviously, no ones perfect but God (🙏🏾). But in your eyes no one else is better for you except melo. You couldnt imagine living life without him. Cant imagine what anyones elses kids would look like with you but. No relationship is perfect. Melo sees you as perfect. Your body. Your style. Your personality. He absolutely loves your touch. He loves touch but for you loving your touch is an understatement. He couldnt imagine his kids with anyone else but you. Cant imagine getting married with anyone else. When you guys get into arguments and sleep in seperate rooms. You barely get sleep because all you can think about is each other. How perfect you guys are for one another.

Q - Q? (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

R - Relate

What traits do you guys have a like each other?

A lot. Both of your favorite food is Chicken tacos. You both love a good game of Uno. You both love sex. Duhh. Both of you guy’s love language is touch. Love playing fortnite together. Love listening to music and taking drives together. Both love lil uzi (we pretending yall💀). Just in general you guys are very alike.

S - Sex

(No question for this one lol. Y’all already know how we is round hea nahhmeannn😭)

The sex. Omgggg. The first time you and melo had sex was. So amazing. Can’t ever forget that moment. Melo is always so horny. Morning sex is the best. Sometimes a little top at the red light can turn into a few rounds in back of the McDonalds parking lot. Lucky enough all his windows tinted as hell. Or in the Victoria’s Secret fitting rooms. You guys could be listening to Chris Brown and he would really take you down, fuck you back to sleep, switch up the tempo, or make you wet the bed (i’m laughing hard ash). The hickeys. The high sex. Drunk sex (drunnnnkkk in lovvveee). Car sex. Balcony sex. All over the house sex ( i got bars.) Mad sex and Make up sex. I could go on. Sex with me so amazinggggg. (i was listening to this song while writing this one💀😫😫😫)

T - Trips

Who likes taking trips internationally?

Melo. He love to take you and a yearly or even monthly vacay. Just you and him. Turks and Caicos. Bora Bora. Jamaica. Iceland. Japan. Africa. Anywhere where you can get away from the world. The different places. The hotels. Being able to fuck anywhere and everywhere. The pools. The different air. (united states ait is so boring). The new food. The animals. You guys love the new places. He loves to see you happy and with a smile on your face.

U - U (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it.)

V - V (Cant find a word, Tell me one and ill edit it again.)

W - Right the Wrongs

Who rights their wrongs after an argument?

Usually it would be you first. If you said something that was out of pocket or melo didnt like you woukd quickly apologize. He would forgive you and still cuddle and kiss you and stuff because thats what he does. Tease you. But he would ignore you until he actually forgave you in his head. Melo would apologize and give you some bomb ass d for and apology. Or make that cute face that you can’t resist.

X - (Can’t find a word for X. Give me a suggestion and i will edit it)

Y - Young

Who acts like a Young ass child?

Both of you actually. That’s what makes you love each other the most. The laughs and jokes, the tv shows, everything you could think of. It’s nothing wrong with it at all. Y’all are always gonna bust a joke out at the right time. Maybe sometimes even the wrong time. (damn, double homicide). You guys love laughing with each other.

Z - ZZZ

Who has the worst sleeping habits?

Probably Melo. If you scooted over him even a little bit, he would probably scoot back closer to you or pull you back over to him. And the only con of that is he snores a lot. (Why this nigga snore with his mouth open?🤨💀). Sometimes if he was awake and you werent he would kiss all over you. He loves to lay on your 🍒.

Y’all welcome. I haven’t pose the one of these in a minute. This took me a whole month and a half. I’m tired as hell. 💀

#lamelo ball #melo imagine #lamelo imagine

[superwho-am-i-kidding]

Too Late (PART TWO)

Once again, I'm sorry for how long this took! Life has been rather busy lately, and I couldn't find the time to write. But now I have. And oh boy, is it angsty. It's also quite long! PART ONE IS HERE.

I pride myself with ending stories happily, though it doesn't always happen… yet, anything is possible.

Thanks to @theregoesstevie for letting me word vomit based on this haunting image. Hope it lives up to expectations!

.

The end came with less fanfare than Aziraphale had expected. There was a world one moment, and nothing the next. The antichrist, Adam, had made un-existing as painless as possible, it seemed. There was no doubt in the angel’s mind that Satan was celebrating his triumphing victory over Heaven.

Aziraphale had been standing in the apartment of a dead demon, until he suddenly wasn’t. He found himself completely alone on an empty Earth. He had felt alone before, but it was nothing compared to now.

There were no nightingales singing in Berkley Square, no soft piano emanating from the Ritz, no ducks in the ponds of Saint James’ Park. Aziraphale decided he was tired. His gaze passed jadedly around him until it came to a stop on the only building remaining around him. A corporate tower that was as blank on the outside as it was on the inside. A tugging sensation pulled Aziraphale towards the building. He let it drag him to the escalators that lay in wait for both ethereal and occult forces.

Aziraphale’s eyes looked up towards the escalator that led to Heaven, the unwelcoming home he had known for the past six thousand years. But his instinct led him to the other escalator. He stepped onto the moving staircase for the second time in his long life (well, he wasn’t sure one could call it a “life” anymore) and stared blankly ahead as his corporation was taken lower and lower into Hell.

When he stepped into the dirty and musty hallway, he was surprised to once again find himself alone. He followed the sound of cheers and yelling down the hall until he entered a large room. Dagon was standing on a table in the center of thousands of demons, encouraging them in preparation of the coming war. Aziraphale wasn’t sure how, with plenty of other eyes to choose from, but Dagon locked gazes with him. “You,” she said, the room falling silent as the demons all turned towards Aziraphale. “What are you doing here? Come to spy on us, have you?” She laughed heartily, “Well, it seems they haven’t taught you the art of stealth!” She nodded towards a pair of large demons to grab Aziraphale’s arms and hold him in place. It was hardly necessary, as he wasn’t sure he could move, even if they wanted him to.

“You’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?”

Beelzebub worked her way through the crowd, shoving demons apart to reach Aziraphale. She stopped in front of him, flies buzzing around the corporation that held no warmth. Her eyes flit across every inch of him, narrowing in thought as she sniffed the air a couple of times. “He’s… fallen,” she declared slowly. Shocked murmurs spread throughout the demonic hoard.

“May you be forgiven.”

“I won’t be forgiven. Not ever. That’s part of a demon’s job description. Unforgivable. That’s what I am.”

“This must be a trick,” Dagon said.

Beelzebub stared into the grief-stricken eyes that held no spark. She shook her head, “No, it’s no trick.”

“I forgive you.”

“In fact, this is exactly what we need. He knows how Heaven fights. We will win the war with his help.” Beelzebub waved for Aziraphale to be released. Aziraphale just stood, not bothering to fix the rumples on his jacket sleeves. “You’re going to be in charge of training the troops,” she said.

Aziraphale spared a blank glance around the room. “I’m not fighting.”

“What?” the flies stopped buzzing for a moment to hear Aziraphale repeat himself.

“I said, I’m not fighting,” he said. Beelzebub laughed and Aziraphale was ushered into a new room that had line after line of demons ready to fight. His head slowly raised to meet the eyes of the battalion waiting for his orders. One of the demons handed him a weapon he was all too familiar with, though he never bothered to wonder how Hell had gotten ahold of it. The sword roared to life, the divine flames burning at Aziraphale’s unholy hands.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the flames as they danced across the pointed blade. “Aren’t you going to teach us something?” a demon shattered the trance the fire had created.

“No,” he said. Simple and to the point; Crowley would have been proud.

“No?” the demon scoffed. “Do you expect us to just know this stuff? Sorry to break it to you, Halo, but we don’t have all the fancy things down here that you bastards have upstairs. Just the broken, sloppy seconds.” He pursed his lips and circled Aziraphale in an achingly haunting way. “But I suppose it’s no surprise that you’ve become one of us. You are broken and sloppy, after all. Just like Crawly was.”

Aziraphale didn’t know there was more in him that could break. But there was, and it shattered. Without thinking, his grip tightened on the hilt of the blade and he swung. Screams and sizzles told him that he had hit his mark. The rest of the battalion watched in shock as Aziraphale coldly watched the demon die. Aziraphale looked up, his dark eyes challenging anyone brave enough to a duel.

Some of the larger demons charged him, but Aziraphale dodged easily. It hadn’t been angelic that he had learned how to dance, though it seemed to come in handy now. He side-stepped and spun around his attackers, landing jabs and slashes on their corporations with his sword. One by one, they all fell, screaming in pain. Aziraphale looked up, his skin glistening with sweat, but with no flush. He was a dampened corpse walking around and swinging to kill.

The remaining demons turned and fled, leaving Aziraphale to glance at the bodies surrounding him. He wasn’t sure why they didn’t disappear, as he would have expected with utter extinction, but he didn’t really care. He stepped across them, ignoring the cracking and squishing of the bodies beneath his heels. Aziraphale walked down the corridor back towards the escalator that lead to an empty Earth.

He trailed the sword along the wall, igniting the posters and mold with holy flame. He caught sight of Beelzebub and Dagon surrounded by the surviving demons of his battalion. Beelzebub moved to intercept Aziraphale before he could get to the stairway. Their eyes locked, and she stepped back after a moment of contemplation.

“I should like to be left alone,” Aziraphale said quietly. He knew they had heard him, based on the nervous nods that were sent his way. He began the climb towards the surface and emerged into the blank canvas that the world had become. He took the opportunity to mold this new Earth into a tall hill that buried him within the clouds. A small patch of grass erupted from the top of the mound, yellow flowers popping out of the soil as well.

Aziraphale picked up a long stone that had not been there a moment before and drove it into the ground. It just so happened to have a lovely flat surface, perfect for carving. Aziraphale only wrote one word, one name. He wasn’t sure which one Anthony J. Crowley would have preferred, so he chose the name that Aziraphale always wanted to call him: Love.

“Aziraphale, former principality and guardian of the eastern gate of Eden, fallen angel of Heaven,” a voice appeared behind him. “I had always hoped it would come to this.”

Aziraphale turned from the headstone to stare down Sandalphon as he stood at the edge of the newly-formed hill. The angel smiled, gold shining through his teeth. “You will lose,” Aziraphale said, his grip tightening imperceptibly upon the hilt of his sword.

“I’m not worried,” Sandalphon smiled. “I’ve brought help.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and felt for the ethereal forces that were surrounding him. There were dozens of them. All waiting to land a blow upon the single demon, standing alone on a hilltop with a sword in one hand and flowers in the other. “This was your choice,” Aziraphale said. He stared at Sandalphon for a moment longer before he lunged.

His first swing against Sandalphon missed, and several angels flew in to retaliate. Aziraphale tore each of them down. He almost wished there was literal blood to be spilled, the angels were falling back to Earth too much intact for his liking. Crowley would be horrified at what he had become in such a short time. Aziraphale would have been horrified himself if he stopped to think about what he was actually doing.

But the angels kept coming, and Aziraphale never put more thought into the actions that were defending the grave of the only being he had ever loved. Soon enough, demons had appeared as well, hungry for revenge against those Aziraphale had slaughtered. Aziraphale had always thought about how lovely it would be if Heaven and Hell would put their differences aside and get along for a change. It didn’t even register in his mind that they were doing exactly that; putting aside their own agendas in order to kill Aziraphale.

They didn’t know it, but there was no killing this particular demon. Aziraphale tore through each wave, the bodies piling higher and higher around his once solitary hill. He wasn’t sure how long it took for them to get the message, but it eventually arrived. Fewer and fewer angels and demons approached the hill to challenge Aziraphale. Then, there were no more. Aziraphale felt something stir deep within him. Satisfaction, he supposed, and pride.

He looked over the new hills that surrounded his own, wings of both black and white broken together. Aziraphale looked to the sword in his hand, willing the flame to die. The blade slowly cooled and Aziraphale briefly contemplated joining Crowley in whatever was beyond their infinite lives. His ultimate decision was to toss the sword over the side of the hill, into the pile of bodies that encircled him.

Aziraphale willed a pair of Crowley’s sunglasses and a vase into existence at the base of the headstone. He filled the vase with a fresh gathering of the yellow flowers, ones that he didn’t know the name of, but was certain Crowley would have. That’s where he remained for the rest of the war. The decades passed within the blink of an eye, though the flowers adorning Crowley’s grave were as fresh as the day they were cut.

When it happened, Aziraphale felt the war end with every fiber of his being. He knew the fighting was done, but he didn’t bother to find out which side triumphed over the other. It was of little importance to him now. His gaze swept across the piles of angels and demons, a spark of something flashing in his heart. Tears began to fall from his eyes, blurring the image of a figure appearing before him.

“Angel?” a horrified voice whispered.

Aziraphale blinked to clear the tears from his vision. A black-clad figure with flaming hair came into focus, one that he never thought he would see again. “Crow…” his voice failed him after all the years of silence. “The empty flask…” Aziraphale saw Crowley’s eyes flash with dismay as he put together what Aziraphale was implying. “You weren’t dead?”

Crowley looked around the two of them, eyes never lingering too long on the bodies around them. He turned his gaze back to the tear-stricken face of his best friend. “I went to Alpha Centauri.”

“I’m going home, angel. I’m getting my stuff and I’m leaving. And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you.”

“What have you done, angel?” he whispered. Aziraphale looked down at the grave as he unfurled his black wings into the emptiness behind him.

#too late #part two! #finally! #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fic #good omens angst #probably some trigger warnings #my writing #fallen!aziraphale

[luminous-shifting-vibes]

actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

out of context of course, what do you take me for? a sane person?

"they made lightning mcqueen hot"

"inch resting"

"Nix: Cars (2006) several people are typing..."

"im evaporating"

"enjoy precipitation"

"tow mater is more attractive than lightning mcqueen/hj"

"lightning mcqueen looks like he would call me a slur"

"why did I come back to a discussion regarding the attractiveness of vehicles"

"lark is the braincell of shiftblr tbh"

"you all need some grass in your life"

"me over here simping for block men and now literal cars"

"didn't nick wilde commit fraud canonically"

"i have no strong opinions on whether or not nick wilde is attractive"

"I AM AROMANTIC AND I AM NOT IMMUNE TO NICK WILDE"

"I am bisexual and I. Am not into Nick Wilde based on a simple fact he looks like he will drink all my pepsi and call me names"

"What is shiftbkr but not a bunch of simps"

"cries in Bianca Monroe"

"listen i have a folder called gayass

it is mostly pictures of kyoka jiro and virgil sanders"

"Nick Wilde x Reader where he steals your car 📷 carjacker to lovers AU 📷"

"he says "mama i like to step on keyboard""

"MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND I HAD TO TELL HER I WAS LOOKING AT LIGHTING MC QUEEN HUMAN FANART"

"crab walks away"

""Y/N..." Nick whispered into your ear. "Your car...is a Honda Civic, right?" You looked up at Nick with a baffled expression. "Nick, my beloved? Whatever are you talking about?" "Just asking..." He said as he let you out of his embrace. "Hey, wanna see a magic trick, babe?" Your eyes sparkled. "Really, Nick? Of course!" Nick smiled. "Ok, close your eyes!" You giggled and closed your eyes, waiting for Nick to tell you to open up. Instead, you heard the loud rumble of a car starting up, and you open your eyes. Nick has stolen your car, and he has driven off into the sunset..."

"did y'all know his name used to be canonically Montgomery--he changed it to lightning mcqueen to get rid of his past"

"That is my exit number"

"cars trauma arc"

"wait do y'all know about car jesus" "as if jesus wasn't a ford focus in the bible"

"oh yall do not want to know about the trauma in my cars dr lmao"

"Dewit tau style babey make Lightning McQueen outlive everyone and stalk their reincarnations"

"Do they baptize other cars in like gasoline then"

"there is a pope car in the cars universe which means car jesus died for cars sins"

"NOT THE BOOMER MEMES"

"-lays facedown on the floor while caramelldansen plays-"

"like im serious how many of you guys endorse me falling face down on my floor" (NOT THE SAME PERSON AS PREVIOUS QUOTE)

"I will be Tall and no one can stop me"

"is a soft floor?"

"stop I thought faceplant meant like a succulent in the shape of a face instead of falling onto your noggin for a solid 10 seconds"

"Touch some grass??? What about eating grass"

"what if for every employee of the month i just printed out really horrible boomer memes"

"what ab smoking grass /j"

"Can the grassdirt smoothie be a special in the cafe"

"PLEASE IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR REWRITINH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WHIKE SPEEDRUNINT MINECRAFT"

"you have to get good dirt from like the middle of a pennsylvanian forest for it to taste good though"

"I ate a four leaf clover as a kid cause i thought it would make me lucky"

"guys how do i see the mee6 leaderboard"

"I used to think i was half dragon and I ate plants out of sidewalk cracks"

"i think i punched someone"

"my parents told me to stop doing that so I looked at them and ate a flower"

"I ate grass when I was 9 bc I read warrior cats and thought I was a medicine cat ....................."

"bees are just spicy flies"

"I had a mental breakdown when I was three cause I didn’t know how to turn off a phone"

"My mom drank a bee once"

"when I was a baby I kinned ink sans."

"bro who here find the yellow hat man from curious george fine as heck 📷📷📷"

"mY LUNGSSSSSS"

"no one topping Him"

"I like em big"

"I think Moto Moto has no game like move over hunky boy I could beat you 1v1 Roblox Arsenal 📷📷📷"

"If you didnt have a crush on springtrap, jeff the killer, or Underfell/Gaster/Error sans don't talk to me /j"

"LOOK THEY'RE BOTH DILFS WITH ABS THAT WOULD FIGHT GOD"

"ZORO IS BANNED"

"Guys please help I found my old fnaf fanart from when I was 8 I'm in literal tears"

"OH NO BOT MY FIFTH GRADE HAMILTON PHASE"

"The worst attraction ive ever had has to be Sombra Overwatch"

"My family is like "save all ur art so I can sell it when you're famous" I literally could not sell this if I tried"

"screaming puppet"

"I just remembered Ive drawn overwatch/hamilton crossover fanart"

"my hermit crabs ate each other again"

"we're cannibals ????"

"having me here is a curse you have inflicted on yourselves and I for one am glad for it <3" "scitters around like a crab in anticipation"

"CARB DAY"

"WE NEED TO HAVE A WATCH OARTY"

"hey y'all ill be right back i have to throw away a crab carcass"

"if I watch cars I'm going to start laughing in the middle of it nonstop just because the word cars is funny and also cars are funny like how do you move silly little metal box with rubber circles"

"Lark asleep post catboy pitbul"

"Mwista Wowldwide! Nya!" "hermit crab 2: electric boogaloo"

"Is that why your name is chaos"

"manifest the crab power!!"

"cool dex fact: i can't read 📷"

"sighs adds to worship these entities list"

"with a knife <3"

"yeah and if he betrays me I could probably throw him across the atlantic ocean"

"give me his eyes"

"my good citizen i am a- wait no im nonbinary nvm"

"it worked on a fish idk what to tell you"

"what is gender??? Is that a board game?? If so can I be apples to apples that one's my favorite"

"CHUTES AND LADDERS"

"anyways actually my gender is Candyland"

"Oh god romes the destroyer of friendships/j"

"i am a simple gay i see math i run in the opposite direction survival instincts 101"

"math my beloathed"

"algebra makes me want to rip open a bag of swedish fish and swallow them whole"

"cackles in they're au characters and this will be very fun"

"pog !!!! me too ksajgks one of my drs is a sanders sides au"

"Is that bipper"

"tumblr sexyman"

"Good because he’ll fuck u up if u hurt a child"

"I want a wing-suit"

"looks like a bean would poison someone"

"my hermit crabs are cannibals what can i say"

"sonic the hedgehog kinnie"

"get yourself a man who is capable of the most ungodly actions but won't do them because of their morality owo"

"tell him he can steal my wallet"

"eyes"

"idk about y'all but I need blueberry sweet tea to live"

"y'know the red souls from soul eater i really want to eat those"

"but like only respectable crimes like stealing from elon musk"

"You can go cultbashing with he!"

"He acts like a flamboyant gay man, but if a flamboyant gay man was straight."

"Simp Satan 📷"

"definitely arson"

"They look like they enjoy lemon squares and other lemon desserts"

"Satan is all-powerful but he spends most of his time building honeymoon locations because he is convinced that the protag loves him"

"bc shes the reincarnation of his dead wife or something i guess"

annd here's a quote from our very own dream (@shiftingwastaken) that sums this post up:

"shiftblr but context makes it worse"

#not shifting #shitpost #out of context #tw cannibalism #tw stealing #tw poison #tw swearing #tw: drugs #tw: smoking #tw: death

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

           A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

           “Welcome home, Master.”

           “Where is he?”

           Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

           As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

           “Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.  

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.  

           Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

           “Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

           Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

           “Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

           Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

           YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

           It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

           “He’s a menace!”

           Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

           YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.  

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

           “What is the official story, your highness?”

           Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

    “Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

 “A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

 “Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

           They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

           “Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

           “I have no family.”

           “You are a Kim are you not?”

           “It is only a name.”

           Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

#yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bangtanarmynet #ykn #prince of nothing iii #pon #pon iii #girlmeetsliv3

[anonymous0writer]

You’re Alright II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer

Request: Yes!

// I forget the request rn, but it was for a songfic based off the song “All You Wanted” by Michelle Brand. Thank you anon, I hope you like it!

Warnings: Physical fighting. I don’t even think there’s cursing..

A/N: Sorry this was so late! More will come and sooner :)

Taglist: @jayjaymaebank @rudys-pankow @maaybanks @everydayimfangirling @outrbank @thelocalpogue @decap-quadrant @ahhireallydontknow @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @kylosleftbuttcheek @insanitysparkles @divcrdown @youfookendonut @dpaccione @outerbanksbro @jjs-housekeeping​ @teenwaywardasgardian @traumaflavouredjuulpod @sarapage89 @danicarosaline @timmyswrld @gmwlover100 @bxbyyyjocelyn @teamnick @jjmbanks @thesurfingsnail @lulubutton34 @obxsummer @katiaw2 @yeehaw87 @poguecollins @notaninstagrammodel @koufaxx @talksoprettyjjx

Sorry I keep forgetting my tags! Sadly, I couldn’t tag all of my taglist, so if your name isn’t in bold, message me and we can figure it out!

Lyrics look like this

I didn't know that it was so cold And you needed someone to show you the way So I took your hand and we figured out that When the time comes I'd take you away

JJ looks up at you, blue eyes flashing as his jaw clenches. Your fingers tap his cheek, forcing him to keep his head still. You clean up his shallow wounds, your heart squeezing painfully as purple blooms across his face like a flower showing its face. You swallow your feeling about the abuse littered over his skin- he doesn’t need you to get emotional. You stay strong and continue cleaning him up, and finish with a kiss to his hair.

“You’re alright,” You whisper against his hair as his arms encircle your waist and his face buries into your stomach. You hold him close, fingertips brushing his hair lightly. Sobs rack his body as he starts to cry. You grip on him tightens and you whisper comforts into his ear. 

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here- I got you. You’re safe now.” 

Your hands trace soft patterns into his bare back, sure to dance around the dark bruises and fading yellow ones. You glare at the patches of abuse and pain traced onto his skin, but keep your lips firmly pressed together. 

“You’re okay, J.” You murmur, pulling away from him slightly to cup his face to force him to make eye contact. “You’re okay, I’m right here. And guess what? I’m not leaving.” 

He nods as you brush away the tears staining his cheeks. You sit on the bed and pull him toward you. JJ’s face lays on your chest as you play with his hair and his arms lay across your stomach. 

“I love you so much,” He whispers against your shirt and you kiss his dirty blonde hair again as you return the sentiment. 

The boy falls into a dreamless sleep while you worry about his home situation. You wish you could take him away. Away from all of this.

If you want to I can save you I can take you away from here So lonely inside So busy out there And all you wanted was somebody who cares

“JJ, stop!” You screamed, the words ripping from your throat. Wind blew your hair away, drowning out your screams. “JJ, please!”

The boy either didn’t hear you or ignored you. His fists rained down on the Kook’s face, and they tumbled, grunts and fists flying. Sand kicked up as the crowd circling the two brawling boys tightened, a tall, broad shoulder guy stood in front of you. You pushed in front of him, another yell spilling from your throat.

“JJ, please stop!” Desperation lined your voice.

But JJ couldn’t stop, and he wouldn’t stop until one of them dropped. And by the looks of it, it was him. The Kook was straddling him, weight keeping JJ from wiggling out of his iron tight grip. He grunted, pain splashing against his face in waves as the boy on top grew more desperate. JJ had learned that desperation was more the cause of fighting than anger. Or atleast, when the anger faded from your veins, the only thing that kept you going was desperation. And that’s what was happening to the Kook sitting on him. Anger had fizzled out of his blood, leaving him high and dry. The only thing left- desperation and the primal instinct to survive, to live. And while the scuffles and fights he got into were nothing as dire, the instinct was the same. Soon his vision goes hazy, spots burning into his eyes. JJ knew he was on the edge of blacking out, but he didn’t stop. He grunted, shoving his suddenly heavy arms at the boys chest, catching him off guard. JJ took the opportunity to roll out from underneath him, coughing violently into the sand as he crouched on all fours. His lungs rasped for air as he coughed, blood mixing with the spit and landing on the ground.

His cerulean eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you stare at him, in front of the crowd, mouth slightly agape and brows tugged into a disbelieving glare. He couldn’t hold your gaze, because he couldn’t handle your angered words and lectures. The Kook was catching his breath and cradling his possibly broken nose. JJ smirked. Though he almost got the shit beaten out of him, JJ broke his nose. And by now, the boy knew exactly what point to hit and how hard to hit to make the bone snap.

There was no denying the fact that the blonde was hot headed and impulsive. But fighting was a type of escape for him. The solidarity of focusing on the person in front of you, the rush of survival in your veins, the one goal- winning- provided an escape. Something about the task to win seemed to calm everything roaring in his ears. It was when the blood pumping in his ears and everything in his life faded away. But the reality of his loneliness settled in once he was left gasping for breath and pain covering every inch of skin.

You crouched in front of the boy, eyes worried. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

JJ blinked. Your words weren’t the normal ones of your lecture, they were worried. And that’s when JJ realized, really realized. You cared.

All you wanted was somebody who cares If you need me you know I'll be there Oh, oh, oh, yeah

JJ struggled to pull air in and out of his lungs, eyes glassy with tears. He tried to regain his bearings, vision focusing in and out. Until they rested on the phone on the table. His ribs were bursting with pain each time he took a shallow breath, but he fought through the familiar pain to try and bring the phone closer. 

You were on the other side of that phone, ready to help and hold him. You filled his mind with the countless nights you cared for him and lay with him, whispering comforting words in his ear until he fell asleep. 

He knew he could count on you. But as his fingertips grazed the home button, he stopped.

Would you be happy to be woken up at midnight to come and help him? Would you want to see him like this yet again? Would you be willing to help him? When you’d been asked to do this so many times already? Would you still care like you used to? 

His fingertips stalled, but the questions swirling in his pain along with the pain were pushed aside by your voice. 

“If you need me,you know I’ll always be there. No matter what. I will always be there for you.”

So JJ grabbed the phone and pressed your saved number. You picked up on the second ring.

I'm sinking slowly So hurry hold me Your hand is all I have to keep me hanging on Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

He was leaving again. His figure fading into the horizon. His feet carried him away and you danced down the steps of the Chateau, heart squeezing painfully. Your feet hit the dirt of the driveway and you reached out, desperate.

“JJ!” You called, voice hovering in the air. “Please, stop!” 

You stalled, knowing you spoke those all too often. You swallowed and continued on, feet not carrying you fast enough to reach him. 

“Please?” You begged.

The boy turned fast on his heel, eyes hard. “Y/N stop. Just stop.” 

You came to a halt, blinking in surprise. You met his eyes and your heart tugged again. 

“Leave me alone.” He spoke and started down John B.’s driveway again. 

This time you were rooted to the ground, feet growing roots and digging into the dirt, keeping you still. Your lips parted, and you called after him again. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, knowing the boy had a stop absolutely no one knew about that held his storming thoughts. You swallowed, worry rising in your chest. You hated when he left, and the fact that he’d flee for a day or more, keeping his spot secret made you ask. But the boy didn’t answer your desperate question and soon he faded away. You frowned deeply, worry dissipating into dejection. 

And just like that, he was gone.

Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

You pushed the brush aside, ignoring the dull sting of the blackberry bushes against your shins. You broke through the shrubbery, coming to stand in a small clearing. The ground beneath your scuffed shoes was a mixture of sand and rocks. The sand led to a littering of bigger rocks that could sit you, which broke away to the water. It was a small beach on the edge of a heavily wooded area. And on top of the rock sat a familiar figure. 

JJ was staring at the water, and when you softly called for him, his head turned and you met his glassy eyes. A fresh bruise and cuts littered his face and a tear made its way down his cheek. The scene broke your heart.

“Oh, J.” You whispered and rushed forward, reaching for him. You wrapped your arms tightly around him as he buried his head into your stomach. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, hands gripping your shirt. 

“You’re okay, J. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You’re gonna be alright.”

#obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj obx #jj obx imagine #jj obx x reader #jj outer banks #jj one shot #jj outerbanks imagine #outerbanks #outerbanks jj #obx jj #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #songfic #request #anonymous0writer #writing #obx imagine #obx writing

[mindswriters]

Family Meeting - jj maybank × reader {one shot}

Summary: for the first time you decide to take your pogue boyfriend at your family's annual meeting, and let's say that your relatives didn't have the best reactions in the world.

Pairing: jj maybank × kook!reader

Warnings: language, underage drinking, mentions of hook ups?, "drunk" driving [IF YOU DRINK DON'T DRIVE]

Word count: 3.3K (is this big? idk)

A/N: hell yeah, i'm a shitty writer. Y/f/n means "your full name" btw

not my gif, credits to the owner ;)

****

Your surname is pretty infamous at the Outer Banks, your dad owns one of the biggest parts of Tannyhill, what makes you full kook. That's why you always lived in that shitty bubble wrap, you understand that living in the Figure 8 gave you privileges that you wouldn't have if you lived on the south side, and you hate the fact that everyone around you always pretend that everything is perfect when there are people to miles from there surviving from water and bread. But, as a blessing, a while ago your friend Sarah Cameron started dating John B, a Pogue guy who worked for the Cameron's, and you also started to hang out with them, and that's where your life started. At first your parents didn't liked your "new life", but they also did nothing to stop you (probably because they knew you would find a way to sneak out). You found your real crew with the Pogues, they were very receptive with you, John B is really kind and fun (way better than Topper, Sarah's ex boyfriend); Kie became your third musketeer, she's smart and is always there for you; Pope is your favorite nerd eveeer, y'all would be screwed without him. And last but not least, JJ Maybank, at first you thought he was cute, at second that he was a stubborn dumbass, and third? Oh, third you've fallen in love with him.

That's what brings you here, getting dressed for the Y/l/n's annual meeting at the Country Club, while JJ, your actual boyfriend is sitting on your bed with a messy hair and a clumsy suit. This meeting is nothing but a bullshit that your parents "require" you to go every year, you actually don't like it a lot, but today you are especially excited, you can't wait to see all your old aunts and envious cousins staring at you, when you arrive holding hands with your Pogue boyfriend. The most handsome Pogue of this island.

"Hey, J, which one is better, this one or this one?" you asked showing him your hands, each one holding a different pair of earrings.

"Hmm, this one." he pointed to your left hand with a smirk after carefully observed both the jewels.

You whispered a "thanks" and turned back to the mirror, putting the bright jewels on your ears. You were giving a last check on your marine blue dress, when you heard a knock at your half opened door.

"We're waiting for you kids." your dad tried to disguise the complain with a smirk.

"Sorry for the delay, dad, you know how long it takes for me to get ready." you pouted leaning on the door "But you and mom can go ahead, JJ and I will go with my car in a little while." you looked at your boyfriend and smiled when he waved to your father.

"You sure?" you quickly nodded "Okay then, see you there." the gray haired man sighed and went down the stairs.

"Thank you, daddy." you murmured but he definitely didn't listened.

"Can you just don't call him daddy when I'm around? It's kinda awkward." he slyly said when stood up from your bed.

You giggled rolling your eyes and walked towards him, looking up to stare his blue eyes "I never thought I would live to see JJ Maybank wearing a suit." you joked.

He just looked away and gave a shy laugh, while you delicately straightened his tie and collar. As much as you are excited, you don't see the same in JJ's expression, let's say he is not extremely comfortable in the middle of the Lion's den, as the Pogues call places with many Kooks.

"Come on babe, spit it out, what's wrong?" you ask kindly wrapping arms around his neck.

He shook his head hesitating to speak, but only with your gaze he eventually convinced himself that you wouldn't let it go unnoticed.

"Are you sure you want me to go? I mean, it's a family thing and-" he was about to vent put you stopped him.

"You are part of my family, JJ." you smiled placing a small kiss on his lips.

"Say it to your father, at this time he must be bad-mouthing me for the rest of your family." he complained snorting.

"So what?" you intertwined each other's fingers on both hands "Look, JJ, I don't care about what my father thinks and says about you, I just want to show up there holding your hand and telling everyone that you are the guy by whom I fell in love, and fuck what those idiots will think! It'll always be you." you sighed relieved after you vent all that was in your throat.

"Wow, unexpected PDA from my little girl uh?" you felt the heat blushing your cheeks, but he immediately filled your face with plenty kisses.

"I meant it, J, I meant it!" you both laughed when you tried to escape from his lips "Let's just go there and enjoy us, eat those weird foods, drink expensive drinks and if it gets too boring we can leave, okay?"

"Fine, fine, I'll go." he rolled his eyes pretending to be angry with you.

You held the boy's cheeks joining his lips lovingly and jumped up to the chair where your purse was hanging.

"I can't wait to see the faces of my envious cousins when they see me coming with the hottest guy on the Outer Banks." you sent a wink and asked him to follow you downstairs.

You drove all the way to the Country Club and when you got there you already saw all the chic decor and the other cars that were in the parking lot. JJ seemed to be nervous again, dangling his legs and biting his nails, but holding your hand before entering the party was what helped him to be calm. As soon as you took the first step, you were surrounded by the looks of everyone, some from close relatives who looked disappointed, and others from people you didn't even know were family members. Soon in the entrance hall you met your parents, talking to one of your aunts, when you were a child you gave her a loving nickname, auntie witchie.

"Hi dad, hi mom! I didn't know that half of Outer Banks was now our family." you teased kissing your parents cheeks.

"Less, Y/n." your father whispered discretely.

"Oh, Auntie Mary! How long I haven't seen you!" you greeted your aunt with an exaggerated (and false) smile.

The lady returned the smile but soon frowned as she spotted the messy blonde hair right behind you, even in a suit JJ was still clearly a Pogue.

"Let me introduce you, this is JJ, my boyfriend!" the boy politely kissed the top of your aunt's hand "I don't think you will need to worry about my relationships anymore."

You smiled confidently exchanging looks at the boy as your aunt seemed to analyze and judge every inch of him with a disgust feature. She looked at your parents and they just sighed and shrug.

"Y/n, darling, can I talk to you for a second?" you nodded in response and your aunt pulled you 2 steps to the side, which did not help from anything if she wanted a conversation reserved.

"What happened?" you asked as if you didn't knew what was coming.

"Is this boy really your boyfriend?" you nodded again, always smiling "And is he a-"

"A Pogue? Yes, he is a Pogue." you cut her even before she could finish the question "Any problem?"

"No, dear, but I mean, don't you think you should look some more? I don't know, someone here in Figure 8, with a good surname, I always thought that you would make a beautiful couple with the Cameron's prodigal son." you sighed thinking about a polite answer for the lady.

"I'm sorry, auntie, but you are completely wrong. I don't need to look anymore, JJ is definitely my lobster." you smiled leaving her confused with your words.

You turned your back politely and pulled JJ by the hand, with the intention of literally walking with him around the room and telling as many people as possible that this handsome blonde, mop headed Pogue is your boyfriend. While walking around the space you drank a few drinks, teased some people and received many, many looks of judgment. In addition to some cousins of yours commenting things like "I heard he was that crazy guy who shouted a gun at the Boneyard". But you couldn't care less, even more after some doses of alcohol.

"I need to go to the bathroom, stay here, it'll only take a sec." you gave a kiss on JJ's cheek before leaving him near the bar counter.

You were on your way back from the bathrooms when bumped into someone. It was Amber, she is your cousin, but you two didn't always get along. One time when you were 7, she threw your plush turtle in the pool and as revenge you stuck chewing gum in her hair. There was also the time when you were in 8th grade and she told your mom that you and Sarah went to Topper's house at night to drink vodka with powdered juice. Well, after that you have distanced and now when you meet by chance you pretend to like each other.

"I'm sorry!" she said with that annoying voice "Oh my God, Y/n, is that you?"

"Yes, cousin, it's me!" you smiled pretending to be excited.

"Look at you! You mean you have boobs now?" yeah, and my boyfriend loves them! okay, that's what you thought, in fact you just smirked raising eyebrows.

"Yeah, I think so. But you remain the same! Just with a little more chemical in the hair." you teased in the same mocking tone of her.

"Y/n/n, always so funny." she let a fake laugh and looked away "Damn, since when did the waiters from the Cut get so hot?"

You turned around and soon realized that she was talking about JJ, who was still leaning against the counter. As much as you were a little jealous for hearing her call your boyfriend hot right in your face, you were also proud to be able to tell her that he is already yours.

"Oh, actually he's not a waiter, he's my boyfriend." you smiled confident biting your own lip.

"Shit, don't mock me Y/n, you and that guy?" she laughed trying to disguise the wide eyes, Amber always made a point of telling that you were too ugly to get a boyfriend.

"Yep, me and that guy." from a distance JJ realized you were staring and then waved at you, who responded with your most proud smile.

"Ugh, I can't really understand what you and Sarah see in those Pogues, they're disgusting." funny to see how she changed her mind just in a few seconds.

"Let's say they're like that song."

"Song? What song?" she asked confused moving her gaze to you.

"You know, harder, better, faster, stronger, oh and add 'bigger'." you slowly said containing your laughter by biting the inside of your cheek.

She stared at you with a shooked look, and speechless. You must admit that the situation was quite satisfactory, seeing your dear cousin unresponsive on learning that you are not the ugly duckling as she always liked to say. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh, and then you excused yourself to return to your boy's arms.

"Who was that?" he asked when you leaned beside him on the counter.

"It's my cousin Amber, I hate her." he giggled and you fake smiled looking over your shoulder to see the fake blonde girl staring at you two.

"So what were you talking about?" he fixed your hair behind your ear gazing you.

"Nothing much, I was just telling her how is to be dating a 'dirty Pogue'..." you teased bending to whisper on his ear.

"Dirty Pogue, huh? And how is it like?" he frowned with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, it can be so many things, and I would risk to say that "dirty" is one of them." you smiled biting you lower lip with your eyes fixated on his blue ones.

JJ smiled back and moved his gaze to your lips, quickly kissing them and moving his wet lips to your cheeks, until reach the sweet spot behind your ear. Fuck, this is pretty good but let's say that the middle of your family meeting isn't the right place for you guys do it.

"J, stop, not right now." you giggled raising your eyebrows and softly pushing him away.

"Why not?" he pouted with puppy eyes.

"Because all my family is seeing us?" you used an obvious tone, 'cause it was obvious.

"Maybe we could sneak out?" you narrowed your eyes thinking about his proposal.

"Soon, first we'll show that people how we move on the Cut." you answered when heard one of your favorite songs playing outside.

You dragged your boyfriend by the hand until you reach the middle of the dance floor, at first he was kinda shy, but being with you makes him feel more comfortable, and as soon you both were already moving your bodies like no one was around. Laughing, drinking and kissing, you were stealing the show, this until you feel someone tap your shoulder and when you turned, you faced a man who was probably the photographer, since he held a professional camera in his hands.

"Excuse me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?" he asked politely.

"Yes, why?" you frowned holding JJ behind you.

"Oh, they're looking for you to take the annual family picture, can you follow me, please?" he pointed to the entrance hall.

"Ah sure, come on baby." you nodded bringing JJ with you.

When you reached the hall everyone of your family was there posing and waiting for you, soon you found your parents on the left side and before joining them, you stopped to straight your hair and JJ's bow tie. When you had just finished fixing his suit, your dad stopped you by your shoulders.

"Y/n, sweetie, I know JJ is important to you, but I think it's best that he doesn't appear with you in the official photos." you frowned when your dad moved his gaze to the blonde right behind you.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" you snapped with a bit angry tone.

"It's nothing personal, honey, it's just 'cause you know, you’re still young and he’s just your boyfriend, we don’t know if it will last long." your father said making you chuckle shooking your head, that's unbelievable.

"Nothing personal, right? So why can Andrew's girlfriend appear in this stupid picture and JJ cannot?" you stormed pointing to your cousin and his girlfriend already posing to the camera.

"Y/n please, don't make a scene." you dad sighed when noticed that everyone looked at you.

"Is because he's a Pogue, isn't it?" you asked with anger burning your face.

"Y/n it's okay, it's just a photo." JJ tried to calm you down and leave it, but you didn't listen.

"You see, sweetie, it's not a big deal." and you're also sick of your dad pretending that everything is perfect.

"You know what? You guys can keep with this Kook bullshit and take this fucking picture, but I will not be part of it." you said confidently causing JJ to giggle behind you and your father give you a pissed gaze.

"What the hell you think you're doing, young lady?" your dad murmured holding your arm carefully.

"I'm throwing off my chains." you stepped back confronting him.

"Y/n, darling, stop it! You're embarrassing me and your father!" your mom shout out when she noticed that you were about to leave.

"Whatever! I'm already the family’s shame!" you shouted taking a few steps back until reaching JJ, who have a proud look in his face.

"Y/f/n! Come back here! You can't do it!" Y/m/n shouted one more time.

"Yeah, but I'm already doing." with a twist on your own feet you answered back while stealing a drink from the waiter's tray that passed by.

At this time everyone is looking at you with wide eyes, your parents flushing in anger and JJ, oh JJ is paralyzed with a huge smile on his face, he's so proud of seeing his badass girlfriend facing everyone to defend him. This was something you wanted to do a long time ago, and a family meeting seemed like the perfect time for you to throw everything up in the air. And that is what you did.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" you stopped making exaggerated expressions "Auntie Mary! You should find your own husband before give hunches on my boyfriends!" you said with a soft tone pointing to your old single aunt standing a few meters from you.

"Y/d/n, you should fix your daughter!" she yelled angry.

"And Amber!" the fake blonde jumped when she heard her name "Cousin, you should try to hook up with a Pogue anytime, they're so fucking hot!" you smiled biting your tongue and looked to JJ, who let out a big laugh and soon disguised because of your father's gaze to him.

Everyone was staring at you and your parents with jaw dropping, you always showed some personality differences compared to the rest of the family, but no one ever imagined you were that bold. Okay, the drinks helped you do that, but they say that when a person gets drunk is when she shows who she really is. And this is you for real. While hearing comments like "How absurd" or "This is a shame", you poured your entire drink in a single sip and dropped the glass on the floor, hurrying to leave that shit party.

"Come on, blondie, are you with me or what?" you raised your eyebrows calling JJ to follow you. He looked at your parents and they gave a serious look to him. But he didn't care right now.

"Sorry, Mr and Mrs Y/l/n," he laughed stepping backwards "your daughter is crazy!"

He shouted shooking his head and turning around to run towards you. You both laughed and you waited for him to embrace you at the big front door, you explicit kissed and left everyone behind, running hand in hand until you reached the parking lot. Inside of your car you two waited for the laughter to lose their strength to catch your breath.

"Oh my God this was insane!" you smiled heavy breathing and looking at the blonde on your passenger seat.

"My girl is a huge badass!" he pulled you for another kiss, this time it was longer and full of proud and desire.

"Okay, your place or the Chateau?" he said breathlessly, pulling away and looking at you.

"Definitely the Chateau. And hope John B isn't home." you gave a nasty smile and started your car.

You're gonna be dead when you see your parents again, but it's fine, still worth it.

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #obx imagine #outer banks imagine #jj fanfiction #jj mayback x reader #jj outer banks #jj x reader #obx netflix #outer banks fanfiction #jj blurb #jj fic #jj #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow #outer banks netflix #outerbanks #obx #outer banks #obx jj #jj obx #obx fanfiction #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader

[sinceileftyoublog]

Riot Fest 2021: 9/16-9/19, Douglass Park

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Much like Pitchfork Music Festival earlier this month, this past weekend’s Riot Fest felt relatively normal. Arriving at Douglas Park every day, you were greeted by the usual deluge of attendees in Misfits t-shirts and dyed hair, the sound of faint screams and breakneck guitars and drums emanating from nearby stages. The abnormal aspects of the fest, at least as compared to previous incarnations, we’re already used to by now from 2021 shows: To get in, you had to show proof of vaccination and/or a negative test no older than 48 hours, which means that unvaxxed 4-day attendees had to get multiple tests. Props to the always awesome staff at Riot Fest for actually checking the cards against the names on government-issued IDs.

For a festival that dealt with a plethora of last-minute changes due to bands dropping out because of COVID-19 caution (Nine Inch Nails, Pixies, Dinosaur Jr.) or other reasons (Faith No More/Mr. Bungle because of concerns around Mike Patton’s well-being), there were very few bumps in the road. Whether Riot Fest had bands like Slipknot, Anthrax, or Rise Against in their back pocket as replacements or not, it very much felt like who we saw Thursday-Sunday was always supposed to be the lineup, even when laying your eyes on countless “Death to the Pixies” shirts. Sure, one of the fest’s main gimmicks--peeling back the label on Goose Island’s Riot Fest Sucks Pale Ale to reveal the schedule--was out of date with inaccurate set times and bands, and it still would have been so had Faith No More and Mr. Bungle stayed, since Fucked Up had to drop out last minute due to border issues. But the festival, as always, rolled with the punches.

The sets themselves offered the circle pit and crowdsurfing-inducing punk and metal you’re used to, with a few genre outliers. For so many bands of all styles, Riot Fest represented their first live show in years, and a few acts knew the exact number of days since their last show. For every single set, the catharsis in the crowd and on stage was palpable, not exactly anger, or elation, but pure release.

Here were our favorite sets of the festival, in chronological order.

WDRL

Last October, WDRL (which, amazingly, stands for We Don’t Ride Llamas) announced themselves with a Tweet: “y’all been looking for an alt black band,, well here you go”. A band of Gen Z siblings, Chase (lead guitar), Max (lead vocals), Blake (drums), and Kit Mitchell (bass guitar), WDRL is aware, much like Meet Me @ The Altar (who, despite my hyping, I couldn’t make it in time to see) that they’re one of too few bands of POCs in the Riot Fest-adjacent scene. Their set, one of the very first of the weekend during Thursday’s pre-party, showed them leading by example, the type of band to inspire potentially discouraged Black and brown folks to start punk bands. Max is a terrific vocalist, able to scream over post-punk, scat over funk, and coo over slow, soulful R&B swayers with the same ease. The rest of the band was equally versatile, able to pivot on a dime from scuzzy rock to hip hop to twinkling dream pop. Bonus points for covering Splendora’s “You’re Standing On My Neck”, aka the Daria theme song.

Joyce Manor

Joyce Manor’s self-titled debut is classic. The best part of it as an album play-through at a festival? It’s so short that you can hear it and you’ll still have half a set for other favorites. So while the bouncy “Orange Julius”", “Ashtray Petting Zoo”, and ultimate singalong “Constant Headache” were set highlights, the Torrance, CA band was able to burn through lots from Never Hungover Again, Cody, Million Dollars to Kill Me, and their rarities collection Songs From Northern Torrance. Apart from not playing anything from Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired (seriously, am I the only one who loves that record?), Joyce Manor were stellar, from the undeniable hooks of “Heart Tattoo” to the churning power chords of “Catalina Fight Song”. After playing “Christmas Card”, Johnson and company gave one final nod to the original fest cancellation, My Chemical Romance, who were slated to headline 2020, then 2021, and now 2022. If you ever wondered what it would sound like hearing a concise punk band like Joyce Manor take on the bombast of “Helena”, you found out. Hey, it was actually pretty good!

Patti Smith

Behold: a full Patti Smith set! After being shafted by the weather last time around, a sunglasses-laden Smith decided not to fuck around, leading with the inspiring “People Have The Power”, her voice as powerful as I’ve ever heard it. Maybe it was the influence of Riot Fest, but she dropped as many f-bombs as Corey Taylor did during Slipknot’s Sunday night headlining set. After reluctantly signing an adoring crowd member’s copy of Horses, she quipped, “I feel bad for you have to cart that fucking thing around.” It wasn’t just the filthy banter: This was Smith at her most enraptured and incendiary, belting during “Because The Night” and spitting during a “Land/Gloria” medley, reciting stream-of-consciousness hallucinogenic lyrics about the power of escape in the greatest display of stamina the festival had to offer.

Circa Survive

“It feels good to dance,” declared Circa Survive lead singer Anthony Green. The heart and soul of the Philadelphia rock band, who cover ground from prog rock to post-hardcore and emo, Green was in full form during the band’s early Friday set, his falsetto carrying the rolling “The Difference Between Medicine and Poising Is in the Dose” and the chugging “Rites of Investiture”. While the band, too, can throw down, they’re equally interesting when softer and more melodic, Brendan Ekstrom‘s twinkling guitars lifting “Child of the Desert” and “Suitcase”. Ending with the one-two punch of debut Juturna’s introspective “Act Appalled” and Blue Sky Noise’s skyward “Get Out”, Green announced the band would have a new record coming soon, one you hope will cover the sonic and thematic ground of even just those two tracks.

Thrice

Thrice played their first show since February 2020 the same day they’d release their 11th studio album, Horizons/East (Epitaph). To a crowd of fans that came to hear their favorite songs, though, the Irvine, California band knew better than to play a lot of the new record, instead favoring tracks like The Artist in the Ambulance’s spritely title cut and Vheissu standout “The Earth Will Shake”. Yeah, they led with a Horizons/East song making its live debut, the dreamy, almost Deftones-esque “Scavengers”, and later in the set they’d reveal the impassioned “Summer Set Fire to the Rain”. But the set more prominently served to emphasize lead vocalist Dustin Kensrue’s gruff delivery, on “All the World Is Mad” and “in Exile”, the rhythm section’s propulsive playing buoying his fervency. And how about Teppei Teranishi’s finger tapping on “Black Honey”?!? Thrice often favor the slow build-up, but they offered plenty of individually awesome moments.

Smashing Pumpkins

William Patrick Corgan entered the stage to dramatic strings, dressed in a robe, with white face paint except for red hearts under his eyes. He looked like a ghost. That’s pretty much where the semi-serious theatricality ended. The Smashing Pumpkins’ first Chicago festival headlining set in recent memory was the rawest they’ve sounded in a while, counting when they played an original lineup-only set at the United Center a few years back. It was also the most fun I’ve ever seen Corgan have on stage. Though they certainly selected and debuted from their latest electropop turn Cyr, Corgan, guitarist James Iha, drummer Jimmy Chamberlin, guitarist Jeff Schroeder, and company more notably dug deep into the vault, playing Gish’s “Crush” for the first time since 2008, Adore’s “Shame” for the first time since 2010, and Siamese Dream barnburner “Quiet” for the first time since 1994 (!). Best, every leftfield disco jam like set opener “The Colour Of Love”, “Cyr”, and “Ramona” was quickly followed by something heavy and/or recognizable, Chamberlin’s limber drum solos elevating even latter-day material like “Solara”. At one point, Corgan, a self-described “arty fuck,” admitted that years ago he would have opted for more experimental material, but he knew the crowd wanted to hear classics, the band then delving into a gorgeous acoustic version of “Tonight, Tonight”. And while Kate Bush coverer Meg Myers came out to sing Lost Highway soundtrack industrial ditty “Eye”, it was none other than legendary local shredder Michael Angelo Batio who stole the show, joining for the set closer, a pummeling version of Zeitgeist highlight “United States”. Leaning into the cheese looks good on you, Billy.

The Bronx

Credit to L.A. punk rock band The Bronx, playing early on a decidedly cooler Saturday early afternoon, for making me put in my earplugs outside of the photo pit. Dedicating “Shitty Future” to Fucked Up (who, as we mentioned, had to drop out), the entire band channeled Damian Abraham’s energy on piercing versions of “Heart Attack American” as well as “Superbloom” and “Curb Feelers” from their latest album Bronx VI (Cooking Vinyl). Joby J. Ford and Ken Horne’s guitars stood out, providing choppy rhythms on “Knifeman” and swirling solos on “Six Days A Week”.

Big Freedia

The New Orleans bounce artist has Big Diva Energy, for the most part. After her DJ pumped up the crowd to contemporary Southern rap staple “Ayy Ladies” by Travis Porter, Big Freedia walked out and showed that “BDE”, firing through singles like “Platinum” and “N.O. Bounce” as her on-stage dancers’ moves ranged from delicate to earth-shaking. At this point, Freedia can pretty much do whatever she wants, effortlessly segueing between a cover of Drake’s “Nice For What” to “Strut”, her single with electropop DJ Elohim, to a cover of Beyone’s “Formation”. Of course, the set highlight was when she had volunteers from the crowd come up and shake and twerk--two at a time to keep it COVID-safe--all while egging them on to go harder. Towards the end of the set, after performing the milquetoast “Goin’ Looney” from the even-worse-than-expected Space Jam: A New Legacy soundtrack, she pulled out the beloved “Gin in my System”. “I got that gin in my system,” she sang, the crowd singing back, “Somebody gonna be my victim,” a refrain that compositionally not only leaves plenty of room for the thundering bass but is thematically a statement of total power--over sexism, racism, the patriarchy--even in the face of control-altering substances.

Les Savy Fav

During Les Savy Fav’s set, lead singer Tim Harrington at various points--*big breath*--went into the crowd, deepthroated an audience member’s mohawk spike, found a discarded manikin head with a wig on it, revealed the words “deep” and “dish” painted on his thighs and a drawing of a Red Hot on his back, rode a crowd member like a horse, made a headband out of pink tape, donned ski goggles, surfed on top of a door carried by the crowd, squeezed his belly while the camera was on it to make it look like his belly button was singing, and referred to himself as a “slippery eel.” Indeed, the legend of Les Savy Fav’s live show starts and ends with Harrington’s ridiculous antics, as he’s all but out of breath when actually singing dance-punk classics like “Hold On To Your Genre”, “The Sweat Descends”, and “Rome (Written Upside Down)”. We haven’t heard much in terms of new music from Les Savy Fav in over 10 years--their most recent album was 2010′s Root For Ruin--but I could see them and the extremely Aughts genre in general become staples of Riot Fest as albums like Inches, The Rapture’s Echoes, and !!!’s Louden Up Now reach the 20-year mark. Dynamic vocalists, tight bands, and killer grooves: What’s not to love?

State Champs

This set likely wins the award for “most immediate crowd surfers,” which I guess is to be expected when you begin your set with a classic track 1--album 1 combination. “Elevated” is the State Champs number that will cause passers-by to stop and watch a couple songs, the type of song that can pretty much only open or close a set. And because they opened with it, the crowd immediately ramped up the energy. It’s been three years since the last State Champs full-length, Living Proof, so they were in prime position to play some new songs. As such, they performed their bubblegummy “Outta My Head” and “Just Sound” and faithfully covered Fall Out Boy’s “Chicago Is So Two Years Ago” (releasing a studio version earlier this week). But the tracks from The Finer Things and Around the World and Back were, as usual, the highlights, like “All You Are Is History”, “Remedy”, “Slow Burn”, and set closer “Secrets”. At the end of the day, it didn’t entirely matter: The crowd knew every word of every song.

Bayside

Putting State Champs and Bayside back-to-back on the same stage made an easy decision for the many pop-punk bands at Riot Fest. Bayside’s been at it for twice as long, so the breadth of their setlist across their discography is more variable. Moreover, they’ve thrice revisited their discography with acoustic albums of old songs, so even their staples are subject to change. They provided solid versions of Killing Time standouts “Already Gone” and “Sick, Sick, Sick”, Cult’s “Pigsty”, and older songs like their self-titled’s “Montauk” and Sirens and Condolences’ “Masterpiece”. For “Don’t Call Me Peanut”, though, they brought out--*gasp*--an acoustic guitar! It was a rare moment not just for one of the most popular pop punk sets but the festival in general, a breather before Vacancy shout-along “Mary”.

Rancid

“Rancid has always been anti-fascist and anti-racist,” said Tim Armstrong before the band played “Hooligans”. It was nice to hear an explicit declaration of solidarity from the street punks, reminding the crowd what really matters and why we come together to scream and mosh. The band expectedly favored ...And Out Come The Wolves, playing almost half of it, and they perfectly balanced their harder edges with more celebratory ska songs like “Where I’m Going” from their most recent album Trouble Maker (Hellcat/Epitaph). My two favorite moments? The breezy, keyboard-laden “Fall Back Down” from their supremely underrated 2001 album Indestructable, and when they asked the crowd whether they wanted the set to end with “Time Bomb” or “Ruby Soho”. “We have 4 minutes left, and it’s disrespectful to play over your set time,” said Armstrong. It’s easy to see why Rancid continues to make an impression--instrumental and moral--on touring bands new and old.

Run the Jewels

The brilliant hip hop duo are masters of balancing social consciousness with the desire to fuck shit up for fun. Live, the former tends to come in between-song banter, the latter with their actual charismatic, tit-for-tat performances of the songs. However, Run the Jewels also are probably the clearest live performers in hip hop today, Killer Mike and El-P’s words, hypersexual and woke alike, ringing in the ears of audience members who don’t even know the songs. (Looking around, I could see people smiling and laughing at every dick joke, nodding at each righteous proclamation.) Some of the best songs on their most recent album RTJ4 (Jewel Runners/BMG) are perfect for these multitudes. Hearing both RTJ MCs and the backing track of Pharrell Williams and Zack de la Rocha chanting “Look at all these slave masters posin’ on yo’ dollar” on “JU$T” as the rowdy crowd bounced up and down was the ultimate festival moment. For those who had never seen RTJ, it was clear from the get-go, as Killer Mike and EL-P traded bars on “yankee and the brave (ep. 4)” that they’re a unique hip hop act. For the rest of us, it was clear that Run the Jewels keep getting better.

The Gories

It felt a little weird that legendary Detroit trio The Gories were given the first set of the final day--I’d have thought they’d have more draw than that. No matter what, they provided one of the more satisfying and stylistically varied sets of the festival, showcasing their trademark balance of garage punk and blues. Mick Collins and Dan Kroha’s guitar and vocal harmonies were the perfect jangly balance to Peggy O’Neill’s meat and potatoes drumming on “Sister Ann” and “Charm Bag”, while folks less familiar with The Gories were treated to their fantastic covers of Suicide’s “Ghost Rider” and The Keggs’ “To Find Out”. Smells like time for the first Gories album in 20 years!

FACS

I thought it would be ill-fitting to watch a band like FACS in the hot sun, early in the day. Their monochrome brand of post-punk seems better suited for a dimly lit club. But the hypnotic nature of Brian Case’s swirling guitar and Alianna Kalaba’s slinky bass was oddly perfect in a sweltering, faint-inducing heat. Just when you thought you might fade, squalls of feedback and Noah Leger’s odd time signatures picked you back up. Songs from their new album Present Tense (Trouble In Mind) such as “Strawberry Cough” and “XOUT” were emblematic of this push-pull. And everything from the band’s red, white, and black color palate to their lack of stage banter suggested a cool minimalism that was rare at a festival that tends to book more outwardly emotional bands.

Alex G

On one hand, Alex G’s unique combination of twangy alt country and earnest indie rock makes him an outlier at Riot Fest, or at the very least a mostly Pitchfork/occasional Riot Fest type of booking. On the other hand, like a lot of bands at the festival, he has a rabid fanbase, one that knows his back catalog hits, like “Kute”, “Kicker”, and “Bug”, as much as if not more than hyped Rocket and House of Sugar singles, like “Bobby” and “Gretel”. Backed by a band that knows when to be loose and when to tighten up--and the instrumental chops to do so--Alex G was better than he was a Pitchfork three years ago. He still sings through his teeth, making it especially hard to hear him on louder tunes such as “Brick”. But when the honesty of his vocals combines with the dreamy guitars of “Southern Sky” and circular melodies of “Near”, it’s pure bliss. 

HEALTH

The formula for the LA industrial noise band has pretty much always been Jake Duzsik’s soft vocals contrasting John Famiglietti’s screeching bass and pedals and BJ Miller’s mammoth drums. Both in 2018 and Sunday at Riot Fest, the heat affected Famiglietti’s pedals, which were nonetheless obscured by tarp. Or so HEALTH claimed: You wouldn’t know the difference given how much their sound envelops your whole body during one of their live sets. Since their previous appearance at the festival, the prolific band has released two new records on Loma Vista, Vol. 4: Slaves of Fear and collaboration record Disco4: Part 1. Songs from those records occupied half of their excellent set, including battering opener “GOD BOTHERER”, “BODY/PRISON”, and “THE MESSAGE”. It was so wonderfully loud it drowned out K.Flay’s sound check drummer, thank the lord.

Thursday

Last time Thursday played Riot Fest, Geoff Rickly was battling heroin addiction, something he talked about during the band’s triumphant late afternoon set on Sunday. He mentioned the kindness of the late, great Riley Gale of Power Trip in extending a helping hand when he was down and extended his love to anybody in the crowd or even the world at large going through something similar. To say that this set was life-affirming would be an understatement; after 636 days of no shows, Rickly was at his most passionate. He introduced “Signals Over The Air” as a song the band “wrote about men beating up on women in the pit,” that a record exec at the time told them that it wouldn’t age well because he thought--no kidding--sexism would eventually end. Rickly’s voice, suffering from sound issues last time around, simply soared during Full Collapse’s “Cross Out The Eyes”, No Devolucion’s “Fast to the End”, and two inspired covers: Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” and Texas Is The Reason’s “If It's Here When We Get Back It's Ours”. The latter the band played because TITR guitarist Norman Brannon’s actually on tour with them, though Rickly emphasized the influence the NYC post-hardcore greats had on Thursday when they first started. Never forgetting where they’ve come from, with self-deprecating humor and radical empathy, Thursday are once again a force.

Devo

Much like the B-52′s in 2019, Devo was the set this year of a 70′s/80′s absurd punk band with some radio hits that everybody knows but with a swath of die-hard fans, too. It’s safe to say both groups were satisfied. You walked around the fest all day wondering whether the folks wearing Devo hats were actual fans or doing it for the novelty. By the time the band actually took the stage after a career-spanning video of their many phases, it didn’t really matter, because it was clear the band still had it, Mark and Bob Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale’s vocals booming throughout a massive crowd. They ripped through “Peek-a-Boo”, “Going Under”, “That’s Good”, “Girl U Want”, and “Whip It”, which caused the fans waiting for Slipknot (and presumably some Devo heads) to form a circle pit. And that was all before the first costume change. Mark passed out hats to the crowd, fully embracing converts who might have only known “Whip It”. The feverish chants of “Uncontrollable Urge” and synth freakouts of “Jocko Homo” whipped everyone into a frenzy. And the band performed the “Freedom Of Choice” theme song for the first time since the early 80′s! I had seen Devo before, opening for Arcade Fire and Dan Deacon at the United Center, but the atmosphere at Riot Fest was more appropriately ludicrous.

Flaming Lips

“The Flaming Lips are the most COVID-safe band in the world,” went the ongoing joke, as throughout the pandemic they’d give audience members bubbles for their bubbles to be able to play shows. The normally goofy and interactive band scaled back for Riot Fest. Before launching into their traditional opener “Race For The Prize”, Wayne Coyne explained that while the band is normally proud of where they come from--Oklahoma City--they’re saddened by the local government’s ignorant pandemic response and wouldn’t risk launching balloons or walking into the crowd because they might be virus spreaders coming from such an under-vaccinated area. To his and the band’s credit, they wore masks during the performance, even when singing; Coyne removed his only when outside of his bubble that had to be deflated and inflated many times and that sometimes muffled his singing voice even more than a mask. Ever the innovative band, they still put on a stellar show. Coyne autotuned his voice on “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. 1″, making it another instrument filling the song’s glorious pop melodies. Less heavy on props, the band favored a glitchy, psychedelic setlist that alternated between beauty (”Flowers Of Neptune 6″, “Feeling Yourself Disintegrate”, “All We Have Is Now”) and two-drummed cacophony (“Silver Trembling Hands”, “The W.A.N.D.”). They’ll give a proper Lips show soon enough, but in the meantime, it was nice to see them not run through the motions.

Slipknot

Apart from maybe moments of Slayer, I’ve never witnessed a headliner at Riot Fest as heavy as Slipknot was. Even the minor ethereal elements present on their most recent and very good album We Are Not Your Kind, like the chorus of voices during “Unsainted”, were all but abandoned live in favor of straight up brutality. Sure, there were moments of theatricality--Corey Taylor’s menacing laugh on “Disasterpiece” and pyrotechnics in sequence with the instrumentation on “Before I Forget” and “All Out Life”--but for the most part, Slipknot was the ultimate exorcism. Taylor’s new mask, with unnaturally circular eyes, seemed like it came from a particularly uncomfortable skit from I Think You Should Leave. They bashed a baseball bat to a barrel during the pre-encore performance of “Duality”. And the songs played from tape, like the gasping-for-breath “(515)”, were designed to contrast Slipknot’s alien appearance with qualities that were uncannily human. For a band whose performances and instrumental dexterity are otherworldly--who else can pull off tempo changes over a hissing, Aphex Twin-like shuffling electronic beat on “Eyeless”--the pure seething emotion on songs like “Psychosocial” and “Wait and Bleed” shone through. Like Smashing Pumpkins, and like so many other successful Riot Fest headliners, Slipknot abandoned drama for pure, unadulterated dirt.

#live music #riot fest #wdrl #joyce manor #patti smith #circa survive #thrice #smashing pumpkins #the bronx #big freedia #les savy fav #state champs #bayside #rancid #run the jewels #the gories #facs #alex g #health #thursday #devo #flaming lips #slipknot #barry johnson #chase knobbe #colin frangicetto #eddie breckenridge #riley breckenridge #james iha #matt caughthran

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Pain Relief (Jacob Frye x Injured!Reader)

Hope everyone is doing okay and being safe! Will probably do this in two parts so it’s not too long!

PART 2

You knew going into a gang fight was always risky, but the outcome would always be rewarding. Having ignored the Fyre twin’s pleas, you get out of the situation very poorly.

“Absolutely not. That is the final warning.”

You were beyond seething, arms hunched and crossed, you glared back over at the oldest Frye twin with the fury that Hell could never hold. 

“Are you to expect us to allow them to hold that borough whilst your own allies die in your pettiness?”

“I have said what is needed to be done, Y/N.” Evie - as usual - was collected, methodical and orderly; never quick to raise her voice or that of her temper. “Our numbers are low, we’ve already barely survived the war against them in Southwark, and I’m not going to allow more to be lost.”

“The City of London will perish under Bloody Nora’s fist. She laughs in our anguish and watches us fail.”

“The City of London can be taken within days once we have recruited.” Henry Green added from the sideline, behind Evie as a supporter. “Have we need to wait, our numbers will have flourished.”

“Yes, whilst she gets more of her own to add to the army awaiting us when we arrive.” You snapped. “Had you remembered, she was certain of our strategies. If we can take it back now, she will not have the chance to regroup or engage in expanding, and the borough can be ours.”

You were pacing by now, and you were certain everyone on the train could hear you, even maybe those feeling the seething rage from the upcoming station. You were usually never one to show your fists or get into fights, but if it mattered to you a lot, it could get your blood boiling.

“Let me take some Rooks into the area, we’ll have it by that same afternoon.” You were adamant on taking it.

Evie wouldn’t back down, her blue eyes studying you like a hawk. “There is no way we’re allowing you to go into this gun’s blazing. Have you been taking Jacob’s example in all of this?”

The younger Frye was not on the train - thank God - and you were certain hearing his words on the matter would really irritate you to high heaven. 

You jeered, rolling your eyes. “Now I can see who is better with strategery.”

“Enough. Miss L/N, I would take your leave before you decide to wreck havoc on this train.” Henry moved in once more, pulling you away guardedly by the arm like trying to move off an irritable bull.

You yanked your arm out of his coldly. “I will not watch London go down like this.” Before swerving to get out of the carriage and head to your own room. You slammed the door shut in emphasis, sinking to your bed like a heavy lead weight on your back, gazing up at the ceiling.

“Well, that went well.”

You keened, pinching your nose as you closed your eyes tightly. “Do I want to know how long you were standing outside for?”

Jacob Frye was lounging in the loveseat facing to your bed, legs crossed and his hat laid on the table beside. His body language read relaxation, but the shifting in his hazel eyes told you otherwise.

“Enough to of caught your entire wants and needs. You know, I do appreciate your words, I knew it wouldn’t take long before I would finally be called the strategic sibling.”

“Oh hush,” you rolled your eyes, rolling onto your stomach. “One Frye was bad enough tonight, I don’t want to hear anymore from the other.”

“So, what now? My sister wants one thing, but you’re clearly wanting to go against her.”

You straightened yourself up, suddenly more aware of the circumstances. Whatever words you would say now, you wouldn’t know exactly how Jacob would react. 

“Bloody Nora is holding against the City of London with as much hold than Starrick over the Templar Order. What good is it to stand watch and allow the borough to be kept under an iron fist?”

Jacob gave you an unknown look, one that was practically unreadable in contrast to the charismatic and confident man. Clearly, you knew there was something that was trying to agree with both you and Evie.

“My sister... she won’t understand our brasher sides, but I-- we cannot allow you to go in with such a high risk of succeeding.”

You scoffed once more, going to move to sit on the end of your bed. “You’re siding with your sister? The Jacob Frye, siding with his sister over something so complicated?”

“Love, this isn’t just some child’s play, this is over life and death!” Jacob voiced, and as quick as a deer to get to your side, and before you, he stood at his full height, now trying to get you to stand down.

You listened, silently juggling whether you wanted to kiss the assassin or shove him out. It was certain there were some unrequited feelings shared for him. But, knowing whether the kindled spark was reciprocated was something that made you fear for rejection.

Gingerly and with little hesitation, the younger Frye moving forth to grab onto your hand, taking it into his much large one, stroking your knuckles almost with concern.

“Please don’t do this. You’re a valuable asset to us. And I don’t want your arrogance getting you killed over nothing.” His voice fell lower than you had expected, almost a whisper as his head fell forward, guarding his eyes.

You thought quietly, thinking, and for a moment, Jacob had believed he had managed to get you to accept, but as you slowly rose to your own full height before him, he could only see the fierceness and passion that endured within you. 

You stood just inches below him, the way the dim light caught the shade of them, and how amazing they looked; the man was something else. He was truly beautiful. 

For a moment, you watched his facial expressions: the way his hazel eyes flickered around your face, wordlessly urging you to not go ahead and do this.

And it absolutely terrified him for once.

Your lips were chapped as well as your words. “I would rather burn myself than see my city be in the hands of them. And you know that.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it and accept that your words of fury were keeping you hot-headed, he knew that the underlying factor was allowing you to want it to be the case.

For once, Jacob thought for once that he wasn’t that rash when it had been just him and Evie against the world.

-

“I can’t believe you let her do this. You didn’t follow after her either.”

“She’s brash, Evie. What can you expect? Her to hold my hand? A gentle scolding like I’m her father?” Jacob sulked, in retreat to the desk as he tried to shut his eyes, blocking the little light already coming in.

“You’re her friend, aren’t you? You would allow me to risk bloody castration?” He argued. Evie resumed her pacing in the same spot you had been in when you had been arguing with her and Henry.

Evie shot him a look over her shoulder. “She is, but I’m sure your... unrequited feelings for her might’ve helped to make her give in.”

Jacob had wished he may have been drinking in this instant, craning his head back to answer a remark about her and Greenie, but the realisation to his sister’s words had hit him smack in the face. “How... when-”

“I see how you pine for each other. I wasn’t born yesterday, Jacob.” Evie retorted, rolling her blue eyes as she chortled. “To put matters to worse, she’ll be throwing herself into a warzone.”

“She won’t, our Y/N knows what’s sensible and what’s not. I’m sure she wouldn’t have gone all that way, still raging.” Jacob frowned solemnly. “She couldn’t of.”

Evie caught onto her brother’s dower appearance, coming to assure him. “She’s the bravest person I know, maybe more impulsive than you yourself, but I know she would be on her wit’s end.”

Jacob chuckled dryly in thought. “You sound a lot like father right now.”

Evie hummed with satisfaction. “You know, he would’ve liked her? The two of you.”

Jacob could’ve felt more at ease when the strength had died down, a female Rook bursting through the door to their carriage, slicked with sweat and panting. “Boss, it’s Miss Y/N. We got ambushed by Bloody Nora’s men, she got away, but Y/N got shot!”

Jacob’s heart dropped lower in his chest at the news, and he wasn’t sure on how he was reacting truly to the news. He felt like part of him wanted to sink to the floor and crawl into a ball and die himself, but the other part was already dragging him out in a rush of adrenaline, a distressed Evie calling back for him to stop.

There was only thought, and it was getting Y/N, his love, out of there.

-

The blood was sticky and matted, half drying on her clothes and fingers as she lay like a dying fish in a dark corner; having dragged herself across the mud and dirt to get out of the firing line.

The wound stung in the side of her stomach: an easy shot from the side of her taken by the woman herself, taking her and the rest of the small group fo Rooks out within seconds, before fleeing. It was only when you were crashed and laying in the mud that you felt another beside you.

You clutched at your side with a sting, the call of your name over and over again, and when you had thought you had been killed and this was the afterlife already awaiting you, you had seen the flash of green and mustard yellow; a female Rook with the name of Alice trying to keep you focused.

“Miss! Miss! Are you okay? Oh, bloody hell! What do I do? I can’t just leave you?”

You hissed in agony and defeat from the situation, only being able to pull one name from your dry lips before the need of passing out fell upon you.

‘J-Jacob Frye... get Jacob Frye.’

You laid there motionlessly, blinking in and out of closing your eyes, forgetting where you were and only craving the darkness. It wasn’t cold nor warm, just welcoming, and you were losing track of time from where you were laying there for.

A noise sounded in the background, growing closer, and your free hand, instinctively went to try and grab at your sword-cane, but a hand came to stop you gently, almost delicately.

Your eyes focused once more, the blurry shape standing over you before coming down to kneel in front of you; another hand coming to support your side.

You cringed in more discomfort, screwing your eyes tight as you felt your eyes water. “I’m sorry,” you gritted your teeth, “I should’ve listened.”

“Hush, love, save your energy.” Jacob’s voice was soft and whispery, as he came to lie back behind you, holding you close to his chest as you leant into him. He cradled you in his broad arms, not bothered by the blood seeping into his fingers, the blood never seemed to stop flowing.

“You need to get to a hospital, to get the bullet out.”

You flinched sourly. “This is what I deserve,” you yelped at a sudden touch of your skin, feeling on fire. “I went against you all... and I deserve this agony.”

Your breathing was growing fainter, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried keeping your head from rolling back. “Just... let me close my eyes for a bit, Jacob.”

“No, I won’t let you do that.” He shook you gently, seeming to coax you in and out of consciousness. “Stay with me, Y/N. Please.”

You attempted to nod your head, your bloodied hand coming to rest of top of his larger one holding your wound, trying your best to squeeze it. “I’ll... I-- “Has anyone ever told you how lovely your eyes are?”

Jacob sourly bit his lip, moving round to see your facial expressions turn more neutral. He sighed, kissing your hairline. “No, you never have.”

“They’re so beautiful,” you cooned, your voice rather peaceful and collected for your state. “I just want to look at them.”

Jacob sighed at your requests, allowing you to crane your head back to allow your face to meet his, and you could directly stare up into his lovely hazel eyes.

“There they are.” You smiled softly, almost melancholic, a hand hesitantly coming to cradle the side of his face, stroking his sideburns with tenderness. “Thank you... Jacob.”

Your eyes fluttered shut: finally feeling at peace as all you wanted to do was welcome darkness, finally allowing yourself to be in the arms of the one you loved and cared for the most.

-

This sucked a bit, but I’ll be writing the second half of this! See you soon!

#jacob frye #AC syndicate Jacob Frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye ac syndicate #ac syndicate #Assassin's Creed Syndicate #assassin's creed syndicate oneshot #reader is an assassin #assassin!reader #assassin's creed oneshot #injured reader #near death oneshot #rooks vs blighters #Part 1 of 2

[cannibal-wings]

👀

Send a 👀 and I’ll share a piece of a WIP! Content warning: Blood, body horror, transformation, mild gore. From the Outlast Wing AU I’m writing:

Miles tossed and turned that whole night. He couldn’t get comfortable, his whole body felt tight, hot, and itchy. Like it was too small and yet bursting at the seams. His back burned each time he rolled over on it and his chest muscles flared up in pain every time he tried to take a breath deeper than a shallow gasp.

He was dragged awake several times by the sensation of rolling muscles, of his back splitting down the middle, but each time his hand flew to it he felt nothing but sweaty skin. He moaned low and groaned as he shifted again in the uncomfortable bed.

Miles wasn’t stupid. They injected him with the same solution that mutated and twisted the other people in the cells around him. It wasn’t a question of if he would meet the same fate, but when and into what? Desperately he wished that it would just happen already, waiting was nearly as excruciating as the pain. He also wished he could take that previous wish back.

The night dragged on, and sometime near dawn a trigger point was reached. Miles shot straight up and gasped for air that hurt to take in. He curled forward; his forehead pressed against his legs. “Holy shit,” was all he said through clenched teeth. Then it happened, his body began to twist and contort like someone was pulling him in different directions.

He tried to get out of the bed but his limbs didn’t want to move in the ways his mind was telling them to. Instead, half tangled in a thin blanket, he fell onto the cold concrete floor. He curled up and gasped as it felt like his spine was unlocking, the muscles shifting under his skin. It wasn’t so bad, he thought, until the skin started to split. Then he screamed.

Through the haze of pain, he could hear one of the guards say, “Someone wake Annapurna up, we got another one.” A pause, then, “Yeah, the new guy, cell nine o’ four. Hurry up, and tell him to bring a bucket or two.” He heard footsteps moving away and then he couldn’t hear anything because someone was screaming.

Miles rolled onto his stomach and dry heaved. There was nothing in his guts to throw up and even they felt like they were twisted into knots. He reached to his back and his hand came away slick with blood. He placed it on the ground, palm down and attempted to push himself up, but the movement only triggered another round of spasms that left him flopping on the floor like a beached fish.

There was more movement from the hall, through the darkness he could see three people now standing by his cell door. They were blurry, his eyes weren’t able to focus on anything through the tears. One of them entered his cell after the door was opened. He dropped two buckets nearby and knelt down. He couldn’t feel the hand on his shoulder, he couldn’t even feel that he had a shoulder. He looked up at a face he couldn’t see, the figure was backlit from the light of the hall and his face was shrouded in darkness. “It’s only just started,” the figure said, the voice was masculine in sound. “It’ll be a while.”

Miles gasped out, “J-Just? What? Am I ok?” His words were slurred, he wasn’t sure if the other person even heard them.

Then there was a piece of fabric shoved roughly into his mouth. “Don’t try to talk, you’ll only bite your tongue off.” Miles could feel it be tied behind his head. “Buckle up kid, you’re in for a rough few hours.” The hand returned to his shoulder in what must have been meant to be a comforting gesture.

David Annapurna had seen many transformations during his time at Mount Massive. Some were while he worked for Murkoff first as an orderly and then as a nurse. Most were seen while he was a patient. One he got to witness in person. The hand he rested on the shoulder of the man beside him was rough and covered in scales. His other hand consisted of two fingers and a thumb, it was all he had left after the arm was mutated into a wing. He kept the feathers clipped to maximize use of what remaining digits he had.

That remaining, mangled, hand gripped a pair of scissors and cut the shirt off of the man’s back. He was told that his name was Miles Usphur, he wasn’t sure that mattered, but it could be comforting to hear your name during the process. “Miles,” he said, “stay with me.”

The man only cried in response. His back arched, his head hung below his shoulders, while his body rippled like water on a once calm pond. David kept his hand where it was as the whole shoulder blade shifted under his touch, moving downward while new muscle uncoiled and snaked over it, shoving it down. Bones snapped and cracked audibly as the man screamed in agony. Miles continued to scream as another round of body shaking spasms overcame him. Then David watched as his back split open, the flesh parting like Red Sea. Blood poured down onto the floor and the man shrieked so loud David thought he might tear out his vocal cords from the effort.

One of the guards outside turned on the room light. David was quick to bark a command, “Turn it off! Their eyes are oversensitive during the process. Keep it off and stay out of the way.” Even though it was only on for a second, it was enough for David to catch the sight of two bald appendages that pushed up from either side of the spine. They were nearly white, new pale flesh that sat just behind a thin layer of connective tissue.

“What’s he turning into?” The guard asked from outside. His voice was uneven, this was likely the first time he had ever witnessed a transformation.

“Too early to tell,” David replied curtly. “Could be anything at this point,” but that wasn’t entirely true. He had seen more than his fair share of transformations, and he had a pretty good idea that the man was growing two more forelimbs. And unless this was a backdated serum, the limbs wouldn’t be human, they wouldn’t be for walking either. They were probably wings.

Murkoff had been spending a lot of money and dumping ridiculous amounts of effort into the avian blends. He would know, he was one of the first lines. But there was a chance they were trying for mammalian wings, like a bat, something that might blend better with the human base. Like he said, it was a little too early to tell.

Miles was still screaming as his back jerked up then fell down. Like a pulse. With each one he could feel something give way, break free. Like he was giving birth through his back. He slammed a hand on the ground and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Something snapped, a thick wet sound, and his vision went white from the searing pain. The more his body contracted and expanded the more whatever it was was heaved from his back. He could feel his skin peel away like a banana. He tipped and fell to his side, the figure beside him moved out of the way slightly as something plopped onto the floor. Miles hoped it was his organs and that he would be granted the peace of death. The funny thing was, that through all the pain and terror, whatever it was that fell upon the floor felt the cold concrete.

David was now certain that the limbs he saw crawling out of Miles Upshur’s body were avian wings. They were bald, the pin feathers wouldn’t sprout for another hour, but he recognized the naked form anywhere. The first wing had already fully emerged, it sat limp on the floor in front of him. It was slick with blood and tissue. The second one was still inching its way out of Miles’ body. He continued to whimper and cry with each painful roll of muscle and snap of bone.

Very gently he pushed the man’s black hair out of his sweat coated face. “You’re doing fine,” he said, “you’ll survive this, you’re stronger than the others, I can tell.” Unfocused eyes tipped up to meet his. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.” David was never sure if his words ever really reached the others, but he hoped they did. He hoped they provided some comfort to them during this phase.

Blood continued to leak out of the gaping space between wings. The skin was torn and open muscle laid bare. The second wing was now mostly outside of the body. David used his good hand to give it a sharp tug. Something popped into place and Miles screamed and heaved.

The guard at the door yelled, “Hey! Are you supposed to do that?”

“The wing has to be outside the body before I can begin to stitch and clean him up. It was mostly out; I was just helping it along. Think of it like pulling a calf out during that final push.”

Miles had fallen deathly still and silent. “Is-Is he dead?”

“No,” David said and slapped a towel into one of the buckets. “Just exhausted. He probably passed out from the pain. I haven’t lost a patient yet, and I don’t intend to start now.”

“Yeah, because Murkoff wouldn’t hesitate to put you down for losing-”

“They pay a lot of money for these trials. But there’s more invested in me,” David said calmly and began to apply pressure to the open fissure that was Miles’ back. “There’s a reason you’re instructed to call me and not the doctors.”

“I thought that was because you’re all animals. Beasts.”

“It’s because I’ve seen more completed transformation processes than everyone here combined and provided aftercare to eighty percent of them. They call for me because they know the trial will survive with me watching over it.” He produced a thick thread and needle from a bag by his side. “It also helps that I’m one of them, when they wake up and see me, its comforting.”

David made a cooing sound deep in his throat. “Lucky for him he’s Avian. My specialty.”

#Outlast #rollinwiththepunches

[diamondcamefromhell]

Heart belongs to us

Jaskier x fem!reader

A/N: SOOOOOOOOOO, this is a different thing i decided to try - writing in third person. i know some people hate it, others love it, so please, let me know what your opinion is and if i should do them once in awhile or burn this one with fire! as well as, the whole story is a bit… different, i think. or it felt different to me, so please, again, lemme know what you think

Summary: Jaskier, Geralt and Y/N have known each other, Y/N has in fact had a relationship with Jask, until a tragic accident, where Y/N has persihed, or so they thought. their paths cross again, but Y/N has forgotten all about them

Warnings: none, that i can think off

Word count: 2,209

There was something in her eyes, as if part of her soul was missing. Which, knowing her circumstances, wasn’t far from the truth. It was only that she wasn’t aware of it. She carried out her duties in the tavern as usual, cleaning guests rooms and keeping her head down. It never dawned on her, that she has forgotten something.

Until that something walked in.

She had just finished her shift and was enjoying some wine. Sipping it, staring at the crowd who were listening to their local bard. In her humble opinion the bard wasnt the best, but she could never admit it. John was far too sensitive for it.

Her eyes glazed over the two new-comers, and they didn’t see her either. The witcher took a seat in the corner, brooding already. Geralt unbuckled his swords from his back, scanning the crowd. In the end, he decided to keep his weapons close.

His friend flopped down at the other side, carefully placing his lute on the table. The companions sat quietly, looking around, as Jaskier furrowed his brows at the bard. He usually didn’t like competition, but John was lacking something. He didn’t stir any fire in Jask, who sighed, sadly looking down to his lute.

Someone in the crowd must’ve noticed him, however, as a couple of young women rushed to them. They stopped, glancing at the witcher and his massive swords – he wasn’t paying any attention to them. He has seen her, but Geralt was sure his eyes were just playing tricks. First, he was sure the girl was supposed to be dead, secondly, once their eyes met, she averted her gaze as if he was nothing. Witcher got a weird feeling in his stomach, and his medallion seemed to agree, as it vibrated so slightly, only he could feel it. Just as the witcher opened his mouth, Jaskier sprung to his feet, lute in hand.

Y/N eyes glazed over the corner, until she saw that there was a different musician at the scene. For a split second, she felt something. A tinge in her chest, urging her to get closer to this bard. She could almost roll his name off her tongue, but as fast as it came, the feeling left. Empty place took it’s place, but she didn’t notice. She couldn’t.

Once he sprung his lute, she opened her mouth, mouthing the words before he did. It took Y/N a moment to understand that she hummed a song she has never heard before, and just like before, her eyes cleared of all clouds as she started at Jaskier. Before she could catch this feeling, it ran away again. However this time she felt the empty space, her hand hoovering over her chest, grasping at something.

She wasn’t yet aware at two yellow eyes piercing through her. Geralt now had no doubt it was her. The way her face changed so quickly pained the witcher, as he realized the girl must have forgotten them, but her heart was desperate to remember. He watched her slowly rise off her chair, approaching the crowd.

Her steps were short and uneasy. Something ushered her to hurry, but she was weary. Vaguely Y/N remembered someone mentioning a curse, and her gut told her this was it. This bard, yet to see her, was somehow related to it. She knew the dangers, yet persisted to keep moving.

Jaskier finished his song, not aware of a shadow from a past staring him down. He bowed down to some women, as he heard a husky voice call for him.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice silenced the crowd. The girl saw the bard react and her heart sunk.

She recognized the name. She almost remembered the taste of it rolling down her tongue. The way she would sometimes pronounce letter J like it was said in joker. And how much it annoyed the man in front of her.

She saw his face so clearly, she could paint it. She almost felt his touch on her arm, as he would push her away. Always gentle though, this bard could never be harsh to his lady.

Only then Y/N looked at the witcher. Their eyes meet, and her gaze still cloudly sent storms his way. She didn’t intend to, but this man has clicked something inside of her. A fire raged from her chest as she felt anger like never before. The fire reigned strong, but short, as a sudden wave of sadness drowned her. She was so close to something important, she was sure of it.

She peeled her eyes off the yellow-eyed-man, meeting Jaskier’s. He has recognized her, and a mix of emotions was washing over him. A mix of pain, sadness and confusion painted most of his face, as a smile was the only indication of the sheer joy his soul felt. His heart has risen to it’s feet again, staring at the beauty in front.

This clear recognition sent a chill down Y/N spine. The witcher rose, leaving his swords behind, approaching the pair.

“Geralt.” Bards voice was quiet and full of sorrow. “Do you see her too?”

“Yes. I do.” The girl started at the men in front of her, fighting the clouding coming over her head again. She fought it so hard, she got a headache.

“My head hurts.” She muttered, somehow knowing Geralt would hear her.

“She’s cursed.“ Witcher explained to the bard, who was painfully trying to keep himself from lunging at the woman. Jaskier was desperate to feel her again. “She has forgotten us. But her heart remembers. It’s tearing her apart.”

“I mustn’t forget.” She agreed. She only caught parts of that, as the white noise rang her ears. Y/N was sure she’s about to fall, but Jaskier steadied her.

At the touch, she felt sparks fly. Her heart, that had seemed to be asleep for who knows how long, woke. With a start, too. It was hungry and it recognized the touched. There was no way it would have not.

Love is the strongest curse of all.

“Jask!” The girl yelped, her other hand flying to the man, gripping his jacket. She clung to him like was her last bit of fresh air. The men looked at each other, as Geralt landed his hand on her shoulder, sending more sparks to her heart.

“I know how to help you.” Witcher spoke, though there was this unmistakable doubt in his voice. Geralt knew how, but he wasn’t sure where to start. There was one thing nobody doubted, it was clear that he would march to the end of the wolrd to help this girl. Love is the biggest curse.

“Please.” Y/N pleaded, shattering their hearts. Her eyes were clear as day now, mind flowing with memories about her best friend and a man she was sure she’d marry. “I can’t- I won’t survive forgetting you again.”

“But you died.” Jaskier couldn’t stop his voice from breaking, ignoring the warning shots from Geralt; his friend clearly wanted him to shut it.

“Druids.” Y/N said, hazily. Her brows furrowed the top lip started to shake. “Saved, but at a cost.”

“Memories.” Geralt stated, as the woman nodded, clinging to her love harder.

“They took that, Geralt.” She gritted her teeth, looking around. “They took my mind, but my heart is… ours.”

A pained expression covered her face, but Jaskier wrapped his hands around Y/N. He was thanking his lucky stars that he was able to hold her again, with a hopeful glance at Geralt, Jaskier spoke. “It is ours. We will get your mind back, right Geralt?”

“Give me the names and I will get it back.” A wicked smile painted across the girls face as she has recognized this. She was protected. She was safe. Loved. Alive.

She gave up the names, that had seemed to be burned in her mind. Jaskier and Y/N watched as Geralt grabbed his swords, leaving the tavern before he could even buckle them back on.

In the moment of pure joy, she stepped back, to do a celebratory spin, sliding out of Jaskier arms. That proved to be a mistake, as her mind skitted to the black abyss, and her gaze clouded again. Her heart ripped at her chest, as she shook her head.

The man reached out for her again, but this time his touch didn’t wake anything. It only felt cold, as if ice has wrapped around her. She shook it off, glazing over the bard.

It wasnt that she forgotten him, now she simply didn’t see him. The taverners weren’t bothered by it either, as Y/N looked around, nobody looked at her. She also realized all the windows were closed, so whatever cold creeped up on her…

She couldn’t focus. Jaskier was staring at her, doe eyed. Watching her slip away from him, yet again, was too painful for him to even think about. He wondered how long Geralt would take, and how much could he handle.

“Hello!” Y/N waved her hands around, but to no avail. No taverners even glanced her direction; the only person who saw was the one she couldn’t see.

“Y/N, please.” Jaskier reached out again, sending a cold spike up her arm as she jumped away.

“Stop.” She demanded and Jaskier almost hoped she saw him, but her eyes weren’t looking at him.

Bard didnt realize he had placed his lute down. It was resting on the ground and Y/N eyes were glued to it. A painful expression clouded her face, as a headache struck her head.

She stumbled to the ground, placing one shaky hand on the instrument. There it was, that feeling again. She was inching something important. It was right there, but yet so far away. With some hesitation, the girl still picked up the lute.

As her hand struck the chords, Jaskier recognized the song. They wrote it together, for each other. A promise, to never forget the love they felt that evening. They swore by it.

And there she was, singing it. Alone. Where she felt anything but remembered.

The bard joined, and she could hear him. Though like he was far away, and a wind barely carried his echo to her. But Y/N didn’t need anything else. Now she knew that he was there, somewhere. Waiting for her, or looking for her.

They all learnt another thing a curse can not affect. Hope.

And she hoped with all her soul, that she was correct. That whoever was singing, was going to save her. And Jaskier knew he will.

Her heart kept beating, reminding her of all those fuzzy images. It tried to show her something, but no matter how much Y/N looked - she was looking through a mist.

Until a loud pop happened. For a moment Jaskier and her both thought she broke the lute. They exchanged worried looks, and then it hit them. They saw each other.

“Geralt!” Jaskier cried out, looking at the sky as if his friend was some sort of God. “You did it.”

“Did you doubt me?” Witcher entered the tavern, grinning at his friends.

Only later he would tell them that the druids that cursed Y/N were always staying close. And they stank. They had her mind fully in their hands, hearing and seeing what she saw. Witcher was surprised they didn’t know he was coming to kill them, but he didnt question it.

The words of Y/N rang in his ears for years to follow though. He knew their heart was always their own.

The reunion, it was sweet. And heartbreaking. It had been three years since her passing, and a lot has happened. A lot of tears were shed over her empty grave.

The lovers embraced each other, but it wasnt a passionate one. They simply craved to feel one another, listen to their beating hearts as they set a rhythm together. It was like they were never separated. Maybe they actually never were, Jaskier thought.

Geralt was watching from afar, until his friends turned to him, forcing him into the hug. Witcher was too big to properly fit, and he didnt really want to; but that’s the thing about family. It didn’t matter.

People would stay away from Geralt. These two never did. They loved him, despite his evil looks and murder sprees. And in return, Geralt loved them too.

The tears finally came to the humans, as Y/N wept into Jaskier’s chest. She felt the sudden weight of what it truly meant and how much she had lost, during these three years.

Jaskier wept of how much he gained back just now.

Geralt couldn’t cry, or so he told himself. But holding their two shaking bodies, his soul felt moved from the deepest corners.

“Good to have you back.” He managed, and his voice broke at the end. The girl pulled back, wiping her tears away.

That tiny break in Geralts voice didnt go unnoticed. She started at his yellow eyes, understanding how much they grieved her.

She forced a smile. No. A smile came to her, as she now knew their pain is behind them. They were together. Again.

“Okay, big guy.” Geralt smirked at the nickname, as Jaskier sniffled, smiling. “Someone has to catch me up.”

#jaskier x reader #jaskier angst #jaskier fluff #geralt x reader #witcher imagine #third person #lemme know what you all think #pls and thanks #loved writing this #ngl

[another-snape-story]

Start of Term Banquet

Chapter IX

The day when school was to open its gates for the students has come, and with it came a strange uneasy feeling, which made you doubt whether you should ever sign up for this.

Wrapped in a blanket, you shielded yourself from the sunlight, which started seeping through a narrow slit between fringed heavy curtains, wishing you could stay in bed till next week – or better till next year – and skip this whole procedure of meeting children and – what seemed even more frightening – running your first class. You grabbed a pillow and pulled it over your face, letting out a loud groan of displeasure. A moment later the pillow landed back on a mattress with a hard flop and rolled across the bed, in your opinion – prohibitively wide for one person. After a split second of balancing on its edge, it fell on the floor. You didn’t care. Staring at the ceiling, you regretted staying at Snape’s for too long last night, but once this thought crossed your mind, your lips stretched in a contented smile. No, this was definitely not something you should ever regret.

One of your feet touched the rug, and soon the other one joined it, when you finally found strength to sit upright. Getting out of bed has never been an easy task for you, especially on days like this. The only thing that made you up was a chance to meet your fellow Professor, who could probably give you a piece of advice on how to survive your first day of teaching. You didn’t feel like acting all thorny and standoffish around him; you already trusted him enough to share some of your insecurities. It just happens sometimes: you meet a person, and on a level deeper than human perception allows, you somehow realize you fit together, even though you might know not much about each other or even nothing at all.

“He’s certainly not there,” you told yourself, turning the handle on the staff room door, but still hoping he was. The more space of the room the opening door revealed, the less of a hope there left within your heart, which was replaced with bitter disappointment, once you stepped inside and didn’t find him. Regrettably, there was a short stature of Professor Flitwick instead. Not that you didn’t like him – otherwise, he managed to combine intelligence with sense of humor in such a pleasingly ingenious and simple manner, you couldn’t resist his captivating charm – but at the moment you just didn’t feel enthusiastic about any abstract conversation.

“A little nervous, ain’t you?” he smiled from above the armrest of a couch.

“I am…” taken aback, you admitted hesitantly. “How did you…?”

“I always feel nervous on the first day of the term, even after all these years,” he replied in a squeaky voice.

Later you thought it was even good you met no other than this tiny man. He definitely was a better person to discuss the issue which bothered the both of you, him – clearly – to a much lesser extent. He persuaded you that there was nothing to worry about and, considering indifference the worst of vices, expressed his approval of taking things close to one’s heart.

As much as Professor Flitwick helped you overcome excitement, there still remained something that gave you no peace. It was getting dark; the students were about to arrive. Busy with start of term banquet preparations, seemingly each of your colleagues scurried through the castle making sure everything was ready; even school ghosts gathered in the Entrance Hall to greet newcomers, but Snape never showed up. Neither actually did Dumbledore, yet his absence didn’t upset you in a slightest. Hoping to chase annoying thought away, you roamed the Great Hall, admiring the view of the floating candles under the ceiling enchanted to look like the sky above. 

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice you had no trouble recognizing asked from behind your back.

“Just loitering around,” you turned to face the man wearing his regular black suit and impassive expression. No matter how hard you tried not to smile, the corners of your lips raised up slightly, and so – unable to resist – did his.

“Take your place, the students are already here.”

“Are they?” This news surprised you, since nothing betrayed someone’s presence.

“Come on,” Professor Snape hurried you, heading for the High Table. “You don’t want the crowd to trample you down,” his hand leisurely reached for your waist and froze mere inches to the small of your back, never venturing to come in contact with your body.

As the last word was spoken, children broke through huge oak doors floating the Hall and filling the air with cheerful buzz of excited voices. Amazed, you watched their chaotic maneuvers between benches in attempt to get a better place at the table, realizing how close you were to being engulfed in this swirling mass.

“I swear, Professor, if you appeared a minute later…”

“Save your gratitude for occasion more suitable in the circumstances,” he interrupted you in his typical monotonous manner, scanning the crowd with the look of anthracite eyes, which now seemed even darker than usual.

Attention switched from the man’s face, you noticed your other colleagues joining in. Headmaster was smiling broader than ever. Professor Quirrell caught his foot on the ends of his robe and almost ran into Professor Hooch, who was forced to grab him – overbearing enough – to jolt him back to balance. Aurora Sinistra, Astronomy Professor you got along quite well, happened to find her place on the other side of the table, so you had no choice but to stay where you stood, moreover, you had no reason for complaining – the company this evening prepared for you was more than acceptable.

“I can’t spot Professor McGonagall,” you whispered, leaning closer to Snape’s ear, as if it was a confidential matter.

“Of course, you can’t, because she’s not here,” was his plain answer.

Before you could open your mouth to ask for more details, the oak doors swung open again, and a line of paired up first-years entered the Hall, escorted by the one you were just talking about. Professor McGonagall led them up the teacher’s table, where the Sorting Hat was already awaiting to put children in their Houses.

“L-look at t-that young m-man in round g-glasses,” Quirinus perked up. “This is Harry P-P-Potter! I m-met him in the L-leaky C-C-Cauldron on the 31st of July! H-he was…”

“What were you doing in the Leaky Cauldron, Quirrell? You said you had some business in the Ministry,” Snape cut him short, focused on identifying the legend among other children. It wasn’t hard – he was the only one wearing round glasses. This very moment, rubbing his forehead, the boy looked in your direction. He seemed lost and confused, just like his peers waiting for their turn to be sorted.

“I d-did,” he confirmed, “it was earlier t-that d-day.”

“Don’t mind a glass of sherry before meeting authorities? You never stop surprising me,” Snape snapped disapprovingly.

“N-no, I just…”

“Harry Potter!” McGonagall called the boy’s name, and all the people – students and teachers – stared at him in at once settled silence. While the Hat took its time to decide in which House Harry belonged, Quirinus stuttered something under his breath, probably, trying to find an excuse, but no one was interested.

“Shut up, Quirrell!” you heard Snape’s annoyed hissing, and he stopped half-word, his face – paler than before – contrasting with purple of his huge turban.

“Not Slytherin, eh?” asked the Sorting Hat from the boy’s head, which almost disappeared in its shabby depth, and the man beside you grunted contemptuously, drawing your attention. But once Harry Potter was announced to be a Gryffindor, unimpressed, he pursed his lips, while the rest loudly cheered the little wizard, who walked toward his table looking like fainting from excitement.

“Wanted to have him in Slytherin?” you teased your gloomy colleague.

“Why would I even care?” Professor’s face twisted in disgust, and you giggled.

“So, you said, 31st of July. Wasn’t it that very day when Gringotts break-in took place?” you addressed Quirrell, when the last student was sorted and the feast began.

Snape, who was sitting between the two of you, frowned. “Indeed,” he confirmed.

“Did you see something strange?” your bent over the table trying to get a better view of the man’s face from behind tall black figure.

“S-strange?” he muttered, avoiding your curious glance. “I d-don’t think s-s-so. It was j-just as us-sual.”

“Just – as – usual,” Snape recited thoughtfully. “And how often do you drop in there, Quirrell… to judge about commonness of that place?”

“W-well I’ve b-been there a c-couple of t-times when I needed to f-find another b-book for my w-w-werewolves’ r-research and…”

“I thought you were studying vampires?” Snape clarified in a bored tone.

“I always t-try to l-learn something n-new, to k-keep abreast, you know…” Quirrell returned to his meal.

“So you must’ve heard they procreated a new dragon as a result of crossbreeding!” you exclaimed delightedly.

Snape’s brow arched in astonishment, as he slowly turned his head with ‘oh really?’ expression on his face to check if you’ve suddenly gone insane, or he just overheard something. Leaning on the carved backrest of your chair, you gave him a sign not to dispute, so that Quirrell couldn’t see it.

“Romanian Longhorn and Swedish Short-Snout,” curious what you were up to, Snape played along, naming first two species that came to his mind.

“Exactly! They called it Snout-Horn, but still can’t come to an agreement about its belonging to one of the countries. The argument maxed out recently! Taking into account that the dragon hatched in Slovakia, it’s quite a hot topic!”

“N-no m-matter, h-how they c-call it – it’s a b-b-breakthrough anyway!” Quirrell acknowledged, without showing much interest.

“Its horn grew way too long – and therefore too heavy – so the creature barely holds its head,” you continued vigorously. “Can you imagine!”

A master of self-control, Snape couldn’t help letting out a short snort, not believing he participated in this nonsense.

“What for was all that dragon thing?” he asked you after the feast, on the way back to your chambers.

“He never gives comprehensive answers,” you shared your assumption. “Just wanted to find out, whether he’s a fool or just pretends.”

Snape walked silently beside you.

“I got the same apprehension,” he admitted finally.

“You think he knows the one who did it? I mean… Gringotts break-in?”

“Too fast with conclusions, ain’t we?” a ghost of smile crossed the man’s face and vanished as fast as it appeared.

He was pretending too. You knew this question bothered him even more than yourself, but he wasn’t going to discuss it with you. Why? Didn’t he trust you? Did he consider it not your business? You felt hurt. You really cared about the Stone and the safety of the whole school, but no one seemed to appreciate it.

“Perhaps… Good night, Professor,” disappointed, you gave him a harsh nod.

Snape realized he’s just pushed you away – which was the last thing he wanted – but being not ready for such outcome, he couldn’t find words to fix this stupid situation.

“Good night, Professor,” he answered stiffly, surpassing your formality, and headed down the corridor to his private rooms, scolding himself for being too wary; and you remained standing where he left you – upset, frustrated.

Before offence could squeeze your heart and poison your soul with sadness and misery, Snape stopped in his tracks.  

“Don’t let him become aware of your suspicions,” he said quietly, his head just half a turn in your direction.

“Professor?” you called him softly. Desperate notes in your tone prompted him raise his glance on you, and what he saw made him feel relieved at once. You were smiling.

“Rest,” he smiled back. “Your next day’s going to be full of impressions.”

<<<Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >>>

Tag: @diaryofafan17 @yul-is-sparkling @fullmoonshadowwrites @forthehonourof @mayumikurosake @redrehab @space-helen @fluffymadamina nadiigh @theworldisugly-22​ @lukaerith-morningstar​ @sighsinkhuzdul​ @67-chevy-baby​

#snape #severus snape #snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction

[savannahsdrabbles]

Ocean Song - Part Six

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: 5k words - this chapter is a big boy! A03 link can be found here. Special thanks to @cloakedrabbitand @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

Being constantly together meant that there wasn’t always a need for names in his family; no matter where they went or what was happening, a brother was always within earshot. Besides, surviving as a group often called for one to put aside the concept of ‘I’ and ‘me’, and instead focus on the importance of ‘us and ‘we’.

Us, Brothers. We, Father and Sons.

Individual names were thought of as precious things to be shared. To be called by name was one of the most intimate ways of being identified – it was a way of telling the other that they in particular were important and cherished and held a special place in the speaker’s heart. Being given a name was a special gift, and to be able to give someone their name was an even greater honor.

Father had given them their original names when they were still very small, cooing the sounds as they burrowed into his worn white fur and drank in the warm, safe scent of each other.

Small. Brave. Strong. Clever.

The chirped sounds were a reminder of his love for them - a verbal affirmation that he held them dear.

Once Father had passed, those names became something almost sacred in their family and were reserved for only the most special of occasions. They were spoken primarily in times of overwhelming emotion, such as during a particularly harsh winter when Strong Brother brought home a catch large enough to feed the whole family for many suns. The turtles had gathered around him that night, churring happily and celebrating their brother’s great and likely life-saving accomplishment.

Other occasions were less joyous but just as intimate, such as on nights where one of them startled awake from a terrible nightmare – an event that happened more frequently since Father’s passing. Brothers would huddle around their frightened member and press close, filling their ears with whispered names and reminding them that they were safe, they were home, and they were loved.

At this moment he yearned for nothing more than to be drawn into one of those tight embraces, cool scales and warm breath tickling his skin as the sound of his name chased away the surrounding monsters.

“Brothers here, Clever. Clever Brother safe.”

He blinked his eyes rapidly – one of the few body parts he could still move – as tears blurred his vision and began to roll down his face. The cold, hard object that had been clamped around his neck vibrated softly, a cruel imitation of the cool skin and hummed tones he was desperate for. The turtle bit down on the inside of his cheek and roughly chewed in an attempt to distract himself. No, he couldn’t cry yet, no matter how much he wanted to. For now he had to stay alert. If death was to come, he wanted to face it and be brave. That’s what Father would have wanted.

An acrid scent filled his nostrils as the ground swinging beneath him slowly transitioned from light to dark, and the harsh lighting above was replaced with a handful of flickering orange lights. The turtle let out a soft grunt as they came to an abrupt stop, his momentum continuing to carry his head and arms forward until they collided against the human called Ivan’s back. Before he could process what was happening, the hands holding him shifted to grip the edges of his shell and he was twisted around to face his captor.

Ivan stared down at him for a moment, his brown eyes seeming to note the turtle’s lolling head and the tear tracks that ran up either side of his face before he smirked. “Alright, in ya go.”

The turtle felt himself being turned again and then he was shoved into a small, dark place. He gasped softly, eyes flicking around to take in the new, colder enclosure. This one was much different than the other prison – it was much smaller, offering him only a few inches of movement on every side, and made of a shiny silver material that looped together to form an interlocking web. Several other prisons lined the one that he was being placed in, signifying that there was room for other prisoners if necessary.

The icy floor beneath his skin vibrated rhythmically as a mental image rushed to his mind, causing his already twisting stomach to gurgle a warning. No. Brothers safe. Brothers not here.

“Th-that cage is fairly small for a creature his size – and he should really have some source of water-” the red furred man that they had called “Doctor” leaned around Ivan as he attempted to peer into the silver prison. Waves of pity emanated from the human’s eyes, so similar to the expressions Red Girl and Boy Human had given him.

The turtle squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to shake his head and erase the memories from his mind. They hadn’t come back for him. Father had been right about Humans – they only sought to hurt and destroy. Their promises and looks of pity meant nothing.

All of the sudden a hand reached out and gripped the back of his neck, causing his eyes to snap back open. A warning hiss bubbled out from the back of his throat.

“Oh hush,” Ivan tapped sharply on the bridge of the creature’s snout, then leaned into the touch as he shoved the creature further back in the cage and swung the door shut. The turtle could still see through the metal links as Ivan latched the cage and reached into his pelt to retrieve what looked like a large gray egg. The man tapped the shell once, triggering a low beep from the object around the turtle’s neck. He gulped, bracing for the worst, and then barked in surprise as a wave of tingling warmth began to slowly wash over his body. It was an odd, hot sensation – like the feeling of urinating after a cold swim – but it was welcome. The turtle shook his head and gave a small sign of relief as life began to creep back into his limbs… until Ivan clicked the egg a second time and the weight came crashing back down.

“Eh, better keep you still for now. Just in case.” The large man twirled the egg between his fingers for a moment, looking thoughtful, then tucked the device into an inner pocket on the van door. Once he was certain it was secure, Ivan grabbed the doors and looked back over his shoulder. “You’ve done enough, Dr. O’Neil,”

The doors slammed shut with an air of finality, plunging him into darkness and making him whimper softly.

Seconds later a roar screamed at him from every side, and then a sudden jolt of movement sent him crashing into the cage door. He clenched his now bruised jaw as the rumbling continued to slide him back and forth, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust and then locking onto the door pocket that shifted in and out of his line of sight. He hummed in determination. That was it – his ticket to freedom. He needed that egg.

***

Okay, so it turned out that car chases were a bit difficult when you didn’t have a plan and didn’t want to alert the other car.

The Jonesmobile had exploded from the parking garage with a vengeance, spitting up gravel in its wake, only for Casey to quickly second guess his actions – a rare occasion and one to be noted – and slam on the brakes. He killed the headlights, essentially casting a cloak of invisibility over the Jeep, and waited impatiently for the van to put a bit more distance between them before gunning the engine. The two vehicles weaved their way through Hamato Lab’s property, the Jeep’s headlights staying dark until they emerged onto the freeway. There weren’t many other cars out at this time of night, but it was just enough for the teens to be able to blend into traffic without tipping off their target.

“We need a plan – is there a rest stop or something coming up? Maybe we can wait until they stop and confront them then?” April leaned down to retrieve her laptop from the floorboards and started to pull up a map of the highway. “I’m not sure where exactly Oroku Inc. is located, but I know it’s at least several hours away; they’ll have to pull over at some point to-”

“And then what? They’ll stop to get some Funyuns and we’ll break into the van?” Casey tapped his blinker as they changed lanes, moving the Jonesmobile one lane closer to the van and pressing on the accelerator. The Jeep rumbled beneath them as they powered forward. “As much fun as that sounds, I don’t think it’ll work – one of the goons will probably stay behind to watch the car.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” the redhead moved her hands to her face and rubbed her temples vigorously as if to stimulate brain activity. “Okay, okay. Did they lock the back of the van before they drove off?”

Casey shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road as the van signaled right and began to change lanes. “I don’t know – you had a better vantage point than I did.”

“I don’t think they did, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. But if we can get them both away from the car for a bit maybe one of us could get in through the back and pull him out?”

“Hmmm…” the boy hummed, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought.

Ahead of them, the van signaled once more and began angling towards the nearest off ramp. Casey waited for half a moment before doing the same. He’d never driven on this part of the coastal highway before, but he could tell at a glance that the traffic was a lot less dense on the upcoming side street – meaning that there would be less cover and the goons would quickly catch on to the fact that they were being followed. If they wanted to take advantage of the element of surprise, they needed to act soon.

“How good are your acting skills?”

April blinked in confusion. “My what?”

“I have an idea. Just follow my lead – and brace yourself.”

Before April could ask any more questions, Casey jammed his foot against the gas pedal and the car rocketed forward like a sugar-high child released into Disney World. The girl shrieked in surprise, hand swatting at the roof as she grabbed for the ceiling bar and held on tight. The Jeep careened onto the off ramp, narrowly missing the siderail as they powered down to the lower level. Streetlights whipped by, illuminating the inside of the car in photographic bursts. Casey’s crazy, wild-eyed grin. April’s confused but determined resolve. The gap between them and the van began to close.

50 feet.

40 feet.

30 feet.

“Casey-!” April braced herself, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as she prepared for what was sure to be a colossal collision. But then, without warning, Casey jerked the wheel and they blew past their target. April pried an eye open just in time to see the van whip past and start to shrink in their rearview mirror. “What the heck are you doing – we need to be behind them!”

“Just trust me – I saw this in a movie once!”

Once Casey seemed to be satisfied with the distance between them and the other vehicle – at least ten car lengths – he threw his right arm in front of April and slammed on the brakes.

Tires screamed in protest, immediately chorused by the voices of the Jeep’s passengers. Casey’s left hand gripped the steering wheel, fighting to keep the car under control as it skidded from side to side. A second screech joined the cacophony of noise, and April squeezed both eyes shut again as she waited for the impact that never came.

Then, with a crunch of gravel, everything stopped moving.

The two teens slumped forward in their seats, chests heaving against their seatbelts as they attempted to steady their racing hearts. As soon as she was sure that they were still alive, April turned her head and gave a snort at the shell-shocked expression painted across Casey’s face. “You good?”

The boy moved slowly, prying a white-knuckled hand off of the steering wheel and slowly patting it across his face and body in search of injuries. “I… I think so. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” April closed her eyes in relief and nodded breathlessly, then turned sharply in her seat as she threw a punch to Casey’s shoulder. “What the heck was that?”

Casey recoiled, color flowing back into his pale face as he attempted to dodge her flailing fists. “I have a plan – I told you, just trust me!”

“Trust you? After you tried to kill us? Boy I-”

“You call that crap driving?” A voice boomed from behind them, followed by the slam of a car door being kicked open. April tensed, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. Both of the men they had seen at the lab emerged from the van, looking every bit as shaken and angry as she felt.

“Like I said – follow my lead!” Casey grabbed April’s hand and squeezed once as he hissed his words. Without any further explanations, the teenage boy unbuckled his seatbelt and threw himself out the car door. He started speaking even before his feet had touched the ground, voice pitching into a pitiful and unsure tone as he turned to the approaching goons. “I am so sorry, sirs! I don’t know what happened – I was just driving along and all of the sudden I lost control of the wheel! Are you two alright?”

Now that they had headlights and streetlights to illuminate the situation playing out, April was able to give the Oroku Inc. employees a once over in the rearview mirror. They were definitely enormous – both solidly built men each standing at least six feet tall and towering over even Casey’s lanky form. She squinted, eyes straining to read their nametags as they passed the Jeep’s bumper and continued to move closer. Anton and Ivan. Those certainly didn’t sound like any Japanese names she’d ever heard – maybe they were transfers to Japan, like she and her father? Then again, these guys didn’t really look the part of well-educated scientists – more like club bouncers that had been handed official nametags and set loose.

“I think that something is wrong with the flux capacitor – I heard it making noise earlier this morning and thought to myself: ‘Self, you need to get this fixed’ and by golly look where that got me now.” The men continued to stalk forward, shoulders hunched and not speaking as they got within an arm’s reach of Casey. The boy stepped backwards, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as he continued to ramble.

Okay, this didn’t look good.  Time to step in.

Taking a deep breath, April pushed herself through the passenger side door and did her best put on a mask of nervous innocence. “Oh yes, I hope that we didn’t scare you two gentlemen!”

Both mens’ heads whipped around to face her, as if just realizing that there had been a second person in the Jeep. They glanced at each other, eyes sharing a quick conversation, and then Anton gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Not at all, Miss. We were just checking to make sure that the driver of this car was alright – you were driving a bit erratically back there.”

“That’s because my girlfriend really has to pee!” Casey interjected. “We were speeding to get to the nearest gas station.”

April blinked, taking the moment of temporary darkness to roll her eyes back into her head before nodding and crossing her legs awkwardly. “Err, yeah. I really gotta… go.”

The bigger of the men blushed and glanced between the two teenagers. “Oh. Um, well then if you two are okay, we’ll let you go on your way-”

“No!” Casey and April both yelped at the same time, startling the two men and catching each other off guard.

“I really need help to get my car running again, and you can’t leave us stranded out here!” the teenage boy gestured towards the hood of his car and shrugged helplessly. “I totally suck at cars – I mean, look what happened! If I don’t get this fixed, someone else might come along hurt us or something and then I’ll have to tell the cops what happened and –”

“Alright, alright, we’ll give it a quick look,” the black man interjected with another tight smile, though his eyes betrayed a deep aggravation with the turn of events. “Ivan, you’re good with cars, aren’t you?”

“Good enough,” the white man shrugged and started to roll up his sleeves.

“Thank you so much, gentlemen, we really appreciate this,” Casey gave a small bow as the two men moved to the front of the Jeep and started to raise the hood. Before they could get started, he turned back to April and continued to speak in his lilting, false voice. “It’s pretty quiet out here, Babe. How about you go behind these nice men’s car and see if you can find somewhere to take care of business? I think their van will block you from the road.”

April nodded. Okay, maybe Casey knew what he was doing after all. “Okay, Babe. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

Casey gave a wide grin, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Impossible.”

Before he could continue playing along and dragging things out, April turned and slowly started to make her way into the darkness. The van was still running, making her cross her fingers and pray that the back of the car would still be unlocked. If it wasn’t, she wasn’t sure how she could go about stealing the keys from the cabin without alerting Anton and Ivan.

From behind her, she heard a shouted “DUDE SHE’S PEEING, DON’T LOOK!” and bit back a snort. Bonus points for dedication on Casey’s part.

Moments later Casey’s voice resumed its awkward tone, assuring her that the goons had turned their attention back to the car. “So I always forget - how often are you supposed to change the oil in your car? It’s like once a year, right?”

April wanted to laugh at the absurdness of this all, but she knew that she didn’t have time to waste. The red head walked slowly, trying to appear calm before she ducked behind the van. Anton had apparently jerked the wheel when he slammed on the brakes, causing the van to fishtail and come to a stop at an angle – perfect. She waited in the shadow of the vehicle for a few seconds, half-expecting one of the men to charge around the corner, and then reached for the door handle.

“Please be unlocked, please be unlocked.”

Click. 

The van door swung open, and April was suddenly face to face with the turtle.

A wave of relief rushed over her, and the girl grinned as she reached for the sliding latch on the front of his cage. “Oh thank God – are you okay?”

The creature hissed loudly, his narrowed eyes locking on hers and shining with anger. “No!”

She hesitated, drawing her hand back and watching as the turtle trembled in the low light. “Hey – I don’t know what all happened after we left, but I’m here to help.”

“No! Human hurt!”

April bit her lip. He was right – she could see the scrapes on his arms and face where it looked like he had been roughed up, and the humming collar on his neck didn’t look good. Casey cleared his throat in the distance and continued to talk loudly, but she could tell by his tone that he was starting to sound less confident. She didn’t have much time to argue.

“Listen – I’m going to need you to trust me.” She whispered as she raised her hand to the latch again and slid it open. The turtle gave a low grumble, but made no move to snap at her or fight back. “I’m sorry that those humans hurt you, but I promise that that’s the last thing I want to do. Casey and I are trying to get you home. You know, home with Small Brother?”

That was the key – she could almost see the switch being thrown in his brain as soon as she mentioned his brother.

Once the latch was undone, the girl slowly extended a hand into the cage. “Trust me, ok? Just come with us, and we’re going to get you home.”

The turtle regarded her hand for a moment, then moved his eyes to look past her. “Egg.”

April froze. “Egg?”

“Egg!”

“I – I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means?” They didn’t have time for this – April reached into the cage and tried to grab for one of the turtle’s legs to pull him out, only to brush against the collar on his neck. The metal buzzed slightly, sending pins and needles through her fingers and causing her to jerk her arm back. The tips of her fingers felt numb to the touch, and she flexed her hand to force blood back into them. “Ow – what the heck?”

The turtle blinked up at her almost apologetically, then turned his focus past her once more. “Egg. There egg-egg-egg-egg-egg!”

The collar – maybe that was why he wasn’t moving? So what did an egg have to do with this…?

Casey yelled in the distance, and April froze. “Can you check my gas tank as well? I filled it up last week, but maybe I’m running low?”

“Fine, whatever, Kid! Just stop yelling – they can probably hear you from Tokyo!”

That didn’t sound good – Casey was running out of things to distract them with.

April turned in the direction that the turtle was looking and reached into the door pocket. Immediately, her hand closed around something small and round. She pulled the object from the pocket and held it out to him. “This?”

“Egg!” he chirped excitedly, still not moving but eyes shining with child-like excitement. “Egg egg egg!”

“You doing okay back there, Babe?” Casey’s strained voice floated around the corner and she gulped.

“Almost done,” she called back, trying to keep her voice even as she turned the device over in her hands. There was only one button on the object, so that meant it had a 50/50 chance of helping. Taking a deep breath and praying that it would do what she hoped, April pushed the button.

A beep sounded from within the cage, and April heard the turtle sigh with relief. He didn’t make any moves to climb out of the car, but she could tell that something was happening as the turtle slowly turned his head from side to side and looked up at her with eyes full of adoration.

“Hurry it up, little miss! We’ve got to get back on the road!”

Okay, no time to wait. April shoved the small device into her pocket and reached into the cage to hook her arms under the turtle’s armpits. “I’m sorry if this hurts, honey, but we’ve got to move now.”

The turtle’s legs trailed limply behind as she hauled him out of the van and attempted to lift him fully into her arms, only to stumble backwards and nearly drop him. Nope – not going to work. He was surprisingly heavy despite his small frame. April grunted as she shifted her hands and tried to hug the turtle to her chest with his head resting on her shoulder. His arms still dangled at his sides, twitching occasionally as feeling started to flow back through them, and the turtle let out a nervous hum.

“I gotcha, bud. We just got to figure this out –”

“Dude, you can’t interrupt her when she’s going to the bathroom -!”

“She’s taken long enough – what’s going on back there?”

Before she had a chance to consider her next action – fight? flight? - two sharp cracks rang through the night followed by the sound of multiple heavy objects hitting the ground. Less than a second later, Casey barreled around the back of the van and nearly crashed into her. His eyes had a wild shine as he quickly took in the situation and then lunged forward to scoop the turtle out of April’s arms. “We gotta go!”

April gave a grateful nod as the boy shifted the turtle into a bridal carry and tucked the creature’s head under his chin. “What about -?”

“I gave us a few seconds – now GO!”

The teens exploded from around the van in time to see both men moaning and slowly pulling themselves to their knees. The splintered remains of a hockey stick lay scattered at their feet, clearly telling the story of their downturn. April gulped as she leapt across Anton’s long legs and threw herself into the passenger side of the Jeep. Across the car, Casey pulled open the back door and quickly dumped the turtle onto the bench seat with a “sorry, dude.”

“You will pay for that, boy,” the white man snarled as he rubbed his head, then raised his eyes and let out a yell. “He’s got the turtle!”

“Thanks for the car help, guys!” Casey scrambled to the driver’s seat and threw himself inside, managing to slam the door behind him right as Ivan lunged for his arm. “Really appreciate it!”

Another hand slapped against the passenger side door, and April shrieked as it was yanked open. Anton towered above her, a deep scowl on his face as he reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt and drag her from the car. “CASEY! DRIVE!”

“On it!” Casey’s foot slammed onto the gas pedal and the tires spun madly in the gravel, searching for traction and throwing small pebbles into the air. April continued to scream and kicked out, her flailing legs connecting with Anton’s chest and sending the man stumbling backwards. Across the car Ivan pounded on the backseat window, yelling to be let in as the turtle squawked in terror.

Suddenly, they were off! Tires gripped the road with terrifying ferocity and the Jonesmobile went flying onto the pavement.

Casey yelped as the car lunged forward, nearly overcorrecting and sending them back off the other side of the road before he could get a firm grip on the wheel. He let out a whoop of excitement as the Jeep powered down the coastal highway, aiming for a small side road that wove above the shore. Soon the van and two screaming men fell into the distance, and both teens sighed in relief.

“Freedom, here we come baby!”

Their celebration was short-lived, however, as a loud BANG suddenly cut through the darkness like a knife.

April’s eyes widened, and she turned to look out the rear window just as headlights burst to life behind them. Another loud BANG echoed through the air, and then something thudded into the back of the car. “Oh my gosh – they have guns!”

“Oh heck no – we are not dying today!” Casey gunned the engine, forcing the car to work harder as they drove onto the rocky, winding cliffside road. “Look at your computer – see if we can find the nearest police station or something!”

“Uh – sure – ok. Keep your head down!” April lunged towards the floorboards, her hands flailing to catch the laptop as the car started bouncing and shaking violently. Small bangs and thuds echoed against the Jeep, and she wondered how many of those were rocks being kicked up versus bullets being intentionally lodged their direction.

A heavy weight thudded behind her and April whipped around, wondering if another bullet had connected with their car, only to see that the turtle had slid off the seat and landed on the floorboards between the bench and the back of the drivers’ seat. His arms flailed helplessly, clearly having regained enough life to move but not to push himself back into an upright position.

 “Here – ” Keeping her head down, April pushed a hand against the turtle’s shell and rolled him back onto the seat. The creature chirped in surprise, but continued to flail his arms around as the car began to shake even more violently. “What - are you going off road?”

“I am until you find directions – ” Casey had to raise his voice to be heard over the chaotic combination of bullets, rocks, and squawking coming from the back seat. “I’m trying to throw them off!”

Another BANG rang through the night, shattering the back window as a bullet lodged into the ceiling just above Casey’s head.

“Dude – that could have killed me!”

“I think that’s their point!” April ducked her head down again and started typing frantically on her laptop. She wasn’t even sure what to search for. The police? I mean technically they were the criminals in this situation – but the other guys were shooting at them, so they were clearly in the wrong, right?

Casey let out a whoop as he jerked the steering wheel to one side and then the other, eliciting a shriek of metal as the Jeep sideswiped the guardrail that separated the road from a steep drop into rocky, wooded area. The van was getting closer now, its headlights shining brightly in the rearview mirror and making it impossible to look back without being blinded.

“This is totally wicked!” Casey hollered as they took another sharp turn, tires spinning and spitting gravel up into the windshield wipers. “It’s kind of like we’re in an action movie, ya know?”

“You’re insane - and slow down on those turns – and calm down!” the red-head snapped first towards the driver, and then over her shoulder as the turtle continued to yell wordlessly and scrabble to get a grip in the torn upholstery. Her hands flew across the keyboard – maybe she could just find them directions to another side road where they could lose the people pursuing them?

Another loud BANG rang out, and then a large jolt rocked the Jeep first to one side and then the other. April’s eyes snapped up from the computer just in time to see a bridge pass them on their left… while the Jeep continued to plow forward into open air. “CASEY! BRIDGE!”

***

Somewhere across Osaka, a phone rang.

#rottmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #sea turtles au #nickelodeon #savannah drabbles

[spn-safeandsound]

14. Family Squabbles

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x20; Dead Man’s Blood

Word Count: 7,603

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

Author’s Note: Introducing Luke Alexander! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia popped a fry into her mouth and wiped her greasy fingers before looking back at her laptop, reading an email that her Aunt Maggie had sent to her, Abby, and Beth. It was her monthly update with what was going on with PSC; earnings, new contracts, and employee turnaround. Julia didn't know much about what went into keeping a business but she knew enough to know what Maggie was talking about in her emails without having to look it up  in a dictionary.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dean reach for one of her fries; she swatted his hand away and ignored the pout he gave her in return. Fries were her favorite and she would only share them on certain occasions. A random weekday didn't count.

Dean sighed and folded the newspaper he was reading. "Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," he told them before addressing Sam, "What have you got?"

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota..." Sam said from behind his laptop. "Here—a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived."

Julia raised her eyebrows while Dean cocked his head. "That sounds more like 'that's incredible' than 'the Twilight Zone'."

Sam sighed and continued his search. "Yeah."

"Hey, you know, we could just keep heading east. New York, upstate," Dean suggested. "Could stop by and see Sarah again, huh. She's a cool chick, man, smokin'," he whistled playfully. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

Julia grinned when Sam perked up, a little flustered. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday," he placated his brother. "In the meantime, we got a lot of work to do, Dean, you know that."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Yeah, you're right," he conceded. "What else you got?"

"Uh, a man in Colorado," Sam studied his screen. "A local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home. It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

Julia perked up when she recognized the name. Her dad had known a man named Danny Elkins way back when she was a kid. They had a falling out of some sort but Luke still held him in high regard and made sure he was supplied with anything he needed from PSC.

"My dad knew a Danny Elkins," she told the brothers as Dean pulled out John's journal.

"I think my dad knew him, too," Dean flipped toward the part of the journal where John kept his hunter contacts. "Here—D. Elkins."

He pointed out the contact, which included a phone number, to Sam and Julia.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You guys think it's the same Elkins?"

"If both of our dads knew a Danny Elkins, it makes sense," Julia shrugged, closing her laptop. "Plus, that's a Colorado area code."

Sam looked from Julia to Dean, who nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Let's check it out."

-

Daniel Elkins lived in a secluded cabin up in the mountains and, according to the bartender at the place he frequented every week, he was a bit of a shut-in. Despite the fact that it was July, it was chilly up in the mountains and starting to snow a little.

They had to pick the lock to get into the cabin and since Julia didn't have much experience with that, Sam and Dean made sure that she was the one to do it this time. It took her a few tries but she eventually unlocked the door.

"Good job, shortcake," Dean patted her ass when Sam stepped into the cabin and then followed in behind him. He turned on his flashlight and started looking around. "Well, looks like the maid didn't come today."

Julia stepped into the cabin, lighting her own flashlight. She wandered off into a different room as Sam stayed by the door, observing some of the salt on the ground, and entered the study. It was an absolute disaster; with most of the furniture splintered into pieces, papers and books all over the place, and various collectibles knocked over everywhere.

"Hey, there's salt over here, right beside the door," Sam called from the front room.

"You mean protection-against-demon salt or whoops-I-spilled-the-popcorn salt?" Dean called back from the room he was looking through.

"It's clearly a ring," Julia heard Sam say as she picked up an empty wooden case that used to hold a gun and its bullets. "Do you think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"Definitely!" Julia spoke up loud enough so the boys could hear her.

"He's got a journal here, Jules!" Dean replied back. "Dates back to the sixties."

"Ooh," Julia whispered under her breath; that would be interesting to read.

Finished with searching their rooms, Sam and Dean entered the room where Julia was looking around. Sam's eyes immediately went to the broken skylight. "Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one."

Dean nodded, looking at the wooden case that Julia had discarded on the messy desk. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too."

Julia made a noise of agreement as she continued to slowly step over some of the debris. She paused when her light flashed over some blood and when she took a closer look, she saw that there were some scratches in the wooden floors.

"You got something, J?" Sam noticed her crouching down next to the scratches.

"I think so," Julia nodded. "Hey, can you get me a pencil and some paper?"

Dean quickly grabbed some supplies from the messy desk and handed them over to her. Julia slapped the paper over the scratches, making sure it was flush with the floor, and then scribbled over it with a pencil, marking out whatever Elkins scratched into the wood.

She picked it up when she was finished, reading the letters and numbers that she deciphered. "It's a message."

Dean took the bloody paper from her. "Well, that looks familiar," he showed it to Sam. "Three letters, six digits."

"The location and combination of a post office box," Sam realized. "It's a mail drop."

Dean nodded. "Just the way Dad does it."

-

After dropping by the local post office and getting into Elkins' mail drop box, Julia, Sam, and Dean went and rented out a motel room. The letter they had discovered in the drop box was written out to a J.W, which just so happened to be John Winchester's initials. Julia didn't think it was a coincidence but Sam and Dean were a little skeptical.

"J.W," Sam sighed, looking over at the envelope Dean held in his hands. "You think it's for Dad?"

"I don't know," Dean studied the initials, looking as if the writing would jump out at him. "Should we open it?"

Before Julia or Sam could answer him, there was a knock on the motel door. The three of them stiffened and Dean dropped the envelope on the table before grabbing his gun to walk over to the door. He aimed it at the door as he reached for the knob and twisted, opening it just a crack so he could see who was on the other side.

His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was and he opened the door all the way. "Dad? Luke?"

John Winchester and Luke Alexander made their way into the motel room, shocking Julia and Sam. They both looked a little tired but other than that, they seemed healthy.

Julia silently stared at her father. She hadn't seen him in almost a year and even though she loved him, she had been suppressing some anger toward him for a long time now, especially after what happened to Levi and the fact that he just took off again.

Growing up, Julia and Luke had a good relationship despite the fact that he was gone most of the year, hunting supernatural creatures. Luke had always been closest to Abby, his little protégé, but he loved each of his children in his own ways. He was a strict father but still loving and he loved Naomi to death. When she died, he became distant but he still kept in contact. All that had changed the beginning of Julia's senior year at Stanford.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked John, standing up from the table. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're fine," John assured his youngest son. "We read the news about Daniel. We got here as fast as we could. We saw you three at his place."

Julia narrowed her eyes at her dad, noticing that he was avoiding eye contact with her. She couldn't believe that he would come all the way to some random cabin in Colorado but didn't have the decency to attend his own son's memorial or make sure that his daughters were okay.

"Why didn't you guys come in?"

"You know why," John said pointedly. "Because we had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks, by the way."

Surprisingly, his comment wasn't at all sarcastic.

Dean grinned proudly. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best."

Julia couldn't contain her anger anymore. Not when everyone was acting so casual about John and Luke's reappearance. "So, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" she caught everyone's attention with the sharpness in her voice; it wasn't like her at all to speak that way to anyone. "but you couldn't extend the same courtesy for Levi? For your son?"

Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jujube—"

"No, don't do that!" Julia stood up abruptly, causing Dean and Sam to exchange a knowing look; Dean slowly started moving toward her, hoping she wouldn't direct her ire at him. "Levi died, Dad! He died and you were no where in sight. Oh wait," she scoffed bitterly. "I forgot. You were in Chicago but you decided it was best not to see how the rest of your family was doing!"

Only inches away from her, Dean placed a warm hand on her back, trying to calm her down. "Jules..."

Luke was in the wrong, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let his daughter yell at him like that. Especially in front of other people. "Don't you talk to me like that, Julia Ruth," he pointed at her, his eyes hardening. "I'm still your father and you will show me some respect."

Julia scoffed, tears coming to her eyes. She angrily brushed them away, cursing her overreactive tear ducts. "You don't deserve it," she spat, pushing away Dean's hand as he tried to grab her waist. "You abandoned your family!"

Luke took a threatening step forward and Julia recognized the look in his eyes. She had seen it many times before when she or Abby stepped out of line and got into trouble. It was look he gave when he was two seconds away from whooping their asses.

Luckily, Dean came to her rescue. "Okay, that's enough," he said sternly, firmly grabbing her waist, pulling her to her and Sam's bed, and sitting her down. He gave Luke a glare, too, expressing all of his anger into it for Julia's sake. "You too, Luke. Both of you calm down."

Luke glared back at him but calmed down when John patted his shoulder.

"All right," John sighed and gave Julia a sympathetic look that surprised her. "We need to focus. Dean, can I look at that letter?"

Not letting go of Julia's shoulders, Dean nodded at the letter where he set it on the table. John picked it up and opened the envelope as Sam came to sit by Julia on their bed, grabbing her hand to calm her down.

"If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John read the letter, trailing off when he came across something shocking. "That son of a bitch."

Luke gave him a questioning look. "What is it?"

John handed him the letter. "He had it the whole time."

"What?"

Luke quickly read the letter and then looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique, a colt revolver? Did you see it?"

"There was an old case," Julia told him, wiping her tears and swallowing her anger in order to talk to him. "but it was empty."

John sighed angrily. "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean wondered.

John nodded. "We gotta pick up their trail."

"Wait," Sam looked at him in shock. "You want us to help you?"

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun."

"The gun?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why," John said sharply.

Sam sighed. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," Luke spoke up. "Vampires."

"Vampires," Dean's grip on Julia's shoulders tightened. "I thought there was no such thing."

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam pointed out.

"We thought they were extinct," John explained. "We thought that Elkins and others had wiped them out. We were wrong."

"Most vampire lore is wrong," Luke took a seat at the table where Julia, Sam, and Dean were previously sitting. "A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. The bloodlust, though, that's true. They need fresh human blood to survi-ve. They were once people so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

Julia pursed her lips and shared a look with Sam, both of them concerned with the unknowns of what was happening. Vampires now existed, their dads were searching for some random gun that the vampires stole from Elkins, and they didn't even know why the gun was so special that Elkins left a letter for John in the event of his death.

She was unsettled already by her dad's presence but now, with all this new information, it was worse. She wrinkled her nose and bowed her head, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her again. Dean had pretty much calmed her down for the moment but her anger was still simmering inside her. There were three things she did while she was angry; cried, gave whoever she was angry at the silent treatment, or act petty.

This time, she was going with silent treatment.

-

A harsh pat on the end of her bed by her feet woke Julia up from her deep sleep. She could hear Luke and John talking and the hum of a police radio but her mind was trying to catch up to the fact that she was now awake. Sam groaned from next to her and hit her in the shoulder when he stretched out his arms, making her groggily groan in pain.

"Sam, Dean, Julia, wake up," John barked at them; Julia sat up to see that he and Luke were shrugging on their jackets. "Let's go."

Still half-asleep, Dean sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Mmhm."

"What happened?" Sam sighed.

"We picked up a police call," Luke stated, making sure his weapon was loaded. "A couple called 9-1-1, found a body in the street. When the cops got there, everyone was missing."

"It's the vampires," John added.

Sam slowly sat up, groaning. "How do you know?"

"Just follow us, okay?" John said impatiently as Luke opened the door, heading out after the older man.

Julia moaned as she stretched, getting the sleepiness out of her joints, and hopped up to her feet. She had fallen asleep in the leggings and t-shirt she wore the day before, so she simply pulled on her boots and her navy-blue canvas jacket, making sure all her weapons were ready to go.

"Huh, vampires," Dean scoffed groggily, getting up from his bed. "It gets funnier every time I hear it."

A half-hour later, the sun was rising as John and Luke questioned the police gathered around the abandoned car. The two older men had been adamant about having Julia, Sam, and Dean stay back while they did their work, leaving Julia and Sam feeling frustrated.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with them," Sam grumbled from his place against the hood of the Impala.

While Julia nodded in agreement, Dean gave him a calculative look. "Oh, don't tell me it's already starting."

As John and Luke started making their way back to them, Sam furrowed his eyebrows at Dean. "What's starting?

Dean just shook his head and turned to the older hunters. "What'd you get?"

"It was them, all right," John confirmed for them. "Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dean gave his brother a warning look. "Sam..."

"I just want to know that we're going in the right direction," Sam defended himself.

John clenched his jaw. "We are."

"How do you know?" Sam challenged him.

John sighed and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling something out and handing it to Dean. "I found this."

Julia silently looked over as Dean flipped over the sharp tooth between his fingers. "It's a vampire fang."

"Not fangs, teeth," Luke corrected him. "The second set descends when they attack."

John gave Sam a hard look. "Any more questions?"

Sam didn't speak but glared down at the gravel at their feet.

"All right," John spoke when he was sure Sam wasn't going to backtalk. "let's get out of here. We're losing daylight."

It was early in the morning and the sun had just set so Julia knew that John was just being an asshole.

He proved her theory correct when he passed by the Impala and commented, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Julia scoffed quietly as John and Luke got into their truck, glaring at the former. Dean took better care of Baby then he did himself. There was no way rust was getting anywhere near the treasured Impala. Dean would rather die.

Sam gave his brother an I-told-you-so look while Dean just smiled awkwardly and shrugged in embarrassment. The three of them got into the Impala, with Sam driving, and started following John's truck to make their way past the detour.

"You take great care of Baby, Dean," Julia assured him, reaching forward to pat his shoulder twice. "Don't listen to your dad."

"Eh, maybe he's right," Dean shrugged as he grabbed Daniel Elkins' journal from the dashboard.

"No, he's not," she insisted.

Sam nodded in agreement. "She's right, Dean."

"All right, all right," Dean sighed and tossed the Elkins journal to Julia. "Find some info on the vamps, would you, shortcake?"

Julia, who caught the journal easily, nodded and started flipping through the pages until she saw the start of the section about vampires.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten," she read out loud so Sam and Dean could hear her. "Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks."

"Ugh," Dean grimaced. "I wonder if that's what happened to the 9-1-1 couple."

"That's probably what Dad is thinking," Sam muttered sourly. "Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So," Dean gave his brother a thoughtful look. "it is starting."

Sam glanced at him confused. "What?"

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year," Dean pointed out. "Now we're with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?"

"No," Sam huffed. "Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again..."

"Well, good," Dean thought that he was finished. Julia knew better, though; Sam was itching to make the fact that he was annoyed with John bossing them around known.

"It's just the way he treats us," he blurted out. "Like we're children."

Dean groaned. "Oh, here we go."

"He barks orders at us, Dean," Sam raised his voice to try to make a point. "He expects us to follow them without question. He keeps us on some fucking need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean argued, matching Sam's volume.

"What reason?"

"Our job!" Dean exclaimed. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things. Luke does it, too."

"Yeah and look at what a great father my dad is," Julia spoke up. "Look, I agree with Sam. You guys are grown men and he should treat you like it."

While Dean gave her an annoyed look, Sam nodded, glad that she was backing him up. "It doesn't work anymore," he agreed. "Not after everything that the three of us have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him and Luke run the whole show?"

Dean pressed his lips together and looked at Sam. "If that's what it takes."

There was something in the way that Dean said those words that had Julia doubting that he didn't mind John taking charge. Over the last year, Dean had been the one in charge; he was the oldest, what he said goes. More than likely, he didn't like giving up his control, especially when his dad treated him like a kid and not the twenty-seven-year-old man he was.

Nevertheless, Dean gave nothing else away. They continued driving through Colorado throughout the whole day, with little to no breaks. It was well past dark when John called Dean to inform him of their next move.

"Yeah, Dad, I got it," Dean confirmed before hanging up the phone and turning to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why?"

"Cause Dad and Luke think that we've got the vampires' trail."

"How?"

Julia winced at Sam's furious tone; John Winchester sure did know how to bring the best out in his sons.

"I don't know. He didn't say."

Sam stomped on the gas pedal, revving the engine. They shot forward, speeding from their current place behind John's truck until they were passing it. Once Sam was sure they were a safe enough distance ahead of their fathers, he abruptly pulled out into the middle of the road, cutting John and Luke off.

"Shit," Julia breathed in shock, pressing her hand against her racing heart. As Sam pushed open his door, she protested, "Sam, no!"

"Fuck, here we go," Dean muttered, getting out of the Impala to run interference between his dad and Sam. "Sam, stop!"

Just as Julia was getting out of the car, John barreled out of his truck and up to Sam, a furious look on his face. "What the fuck was that?"

"We need to talk."

"About what?" John stopped in front of Sam when there was only about three inches between them.

Luke got out of the passenger seat of the truck and leaned against it, watching what was going on with raised eyebrows. He shot Julia a look but she steadily ignored him, watching Sam with furrowed eyebrows.

"About everything," Sam said firmly. "Where are we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q-and-A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tried to interject.

"Your brother's right. We don't have time for this."

"Last time we say you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help," Sam raised his voice. "Obviously something big is going down and we wanna know what!"

John gave him a stone-cold glare. "Get back in the car."

"No."

"I said get back in the fucking car."

"Yeah, and I said no!" Sam yelled.

Before the argument could escalate any further, Julia and Dean stepped in. Julia grabbed Sam's arm and forcefully tugged him a few feet away from his dad, standing her ground when he tried to fight her.

"Okay, you made your point, tough guy," Dean told his little brother as he pushed on his dad's chest to get him to back away. "Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later."

"Come on, Sam," Julia said encouragingly. "Let it go for now."

Sam shook his head, still glaring at his father. "This is why I left in the first place."

John lunged forward, pressing against Dean's hold on him; Luke jumped into the fray, holding his friend back. "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

"Yeah, you left!" John reminded him scathingly. "Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away. You walked away!"

"Stop it, both of you!" Dean called as Sam broke loose from Julia's grasp, stalking straight up to John. Dean immediately pushed him back while Luke continued to try to pull John away.

"You were the one who said don't come back, Dad," Sam shouted, tears in his eyes. "You closed that door, not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

Julia shook her head, feeling three angry energies clashing back and forth. Sam was getting more and more riled up and John was the source of the Winchester temper so he was no better. Dean was angry because he just got his family back together and it was splitting apart already. It was too much anger and, added with her own, Julia was having a hard time keeping her composure while Sam needed her. She had to stay calm, though. She—and her dad, really—were the only ones who could right now.

She took a deep breath, calming herself down, and stomped forward, gripping both of Sam's arms to pull him away from John. "Stop it!" she yelled firmly. "Stop it right now! That's enough!"

Dean saw an opportunity when Julia got Sam to back up a couple of inches; he forced himself in between his brother and his father, making sure that they were far enough apart once again.

"That means you too," Dean added to John with a glare.

"Come on, John," Luke grunted, pulling John back toward the truck.

Sam ripped his arms away from Julia and stomped to the Impala, slamming the driver's door shut behind him. Julia and Dean shared with look of exasperation with each other; it'd only been a day and the duo of Sam and John Winchester would be the death of them.

"Fucking terrific," Dean grumbled under his breath as he and Julia joined Sam in the car.

-

Julia, Sam, Dean, Luke, and John crouched in the woods only a couple hundred feet from the old barn where the vampire nest was living. They had been there for a half-hour already but there was no activity until an old car drove up and parked next to the other ones. A vampire got out and another vampire opened the barn door for him, neither one of them affected by the sun's rays.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, shaking his head as the second vampire closed up the barn once again. "So, they're really not afraid of the sun?"

Luke shook his head. "Direct sunlight hurts them like a nasty sunburn," he told them. "The only way to kill them is by beheading."

"And just because they sleep in the day doesn't mean they won't wake up," John added.

Julia hummed. "So, I'm guessing just walking in isn't our best option."

"Actually," John grinned at her, showing off his Winchester dimples. "that's the plan."

The five of them left their hiding place and made their way back to where the truck and Impala were parked. Even though the truck was only a couple years older than Baby, its weapon outfit was much nicer. It buzzed as it mechanically opened, holding numerous weapons in a neatly organized way.

"Come here, baby girl," Luke waved Julia over to their weapons; Julia hesitantly walked over, knowing that now really wasn't the time to be angry with her dad. "This is for you."

Luke pulled a brand-new machete out of the weapons storage, complete with its own holster. It was slightly shorter than the ones that he and John were using but it was pretty and it'd get the job done—well, she had never beheaded anything but she assumed her dad wouldn't give the machete to her unless it would do the work.

She knew this was some sort of truce between them. For the moment, Luke wanted her to set aside her anger so they could trust each other and have one another's back. He had done this many times growing up; when he missed her ninth birthday, Luke had come home from his hunt with a set of brand-new daggers. She easily forgave him and still used them to this day. Usually her problems with her dad didn't disappear but she wasn't perfect and she loved presents. What little girl didn't?

For now, she'd accept the truce. She took the machete from him with a small smile. "Thanks, Dad."

So much for the silent treatment.

Luke grinned and tugged on the end of her French braid like he used to do when she was a girl. "There's my girl."

Julia gave him a closed-mouth smile and went back to Sam and Dean, holding it out for them to look at it. Dean was more impressed than Sam was, holding it up and mimicking an attack, slicing through the air with the blade. She couldn't help but laugh when he grinned happily and gave it back to her.

"So," John spoke up once Julia put the holster around her waist and they were all loaded up with whatever weapons they needed. "You three really wanna know about this colt?"

Sam nodded, his temper calmed down from their fight the night before. "Yes, sir."

"It's just a story, a legend really," John started to tell them. "Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those mean died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun."

"He made it for a hunter," Luke took over the story. "He made thirteen bullets and this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Danny got his hands on it."

"They say...they say that this gun can kill anything," John finished.

"Kill anything," Dean repeated slowly. "Like, supernatural anything?"

Sam stiffened in realization. "Like the demon."

"Yeah, like the demon," John confirmed with a nod. "Ever since Luke and I picked up its trail, we've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. If we find the gun, we may have it."

The five of them split up—John and Luke together while Julia, Sam, and Dean were grouped up—to enter the barn. While John and Luke went to look for the colt, the three of them went to rescue hostages. While Julia and Dean were unlocking the cage full of three human women, Sam went to freeing a woman who was tied to a post, blood all over her. She ended up screaming and alerting all the vampires that they were there, making them abort their mission.

After they got some dead man's blood, which will incapacitate a vampire for a while, and night fell, Julia and Dean were to be the trap for the vampires coming after them. They would make it look like the Impala had quit running, leaving them at the side of the road, looking for help.

Julia crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she watched Dean look over Baby's engine. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to think of what they were about to do; usually she was okay with anxiety before a hunt but she nor Dean had any experience with vampires. She didn't even know if she was strong enough to behead a vampire, for crying out loud.

Dean peeked over at her, giving her a cute smile. "Nervous, shortcake?"

"Yes," Julia didn't bother lying; he knew her tell anyway. "What about you?"

"Nah," he shook his head, his green eyes surprisingly soft. "And you don't have to worry, okay? As long as I'm around, nothing bad is ever going to happen to you."

Julia's heart fluttered in her chest and she couldn't help but grin at him. "Didn't you say that to Sam once?" she teased him. "Are you reusing one-liners, Dean? I never thought I'd see the day."

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Shuddup," he shook his head in amusement. "I distracted you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I guess you did," she conceded, her eyes flickering to the right when she heard some branches snapping. "Oh, crap."

The smile left Dean's face as he concentrated on the engine again, acting like he had no idea what he was doing. Julia peered over his work, making it seem like she was paying attention to what he was doing.

"Car trouble?" they heard from behind them.

Julia and Dean turned around at the same time, coming face-to-face with an older woman dressed in tacky double denim. She was very obviously a vampire, especially since there was no car around that she would have used to get to them, were she a human.

"Let me give you a lift," the vampire insisted with a seductive smile "I'll take you two back to my place."

"Sorry, we don't do threesomes," Dean said sharply. "And we draw the line at necrophilia, anyway."

"Ooh," the vampire cooed before reaching out and backhanding Dean across the face.

Julia went to help him but another vampire walked over to them—this one was a huge guy—and grabbed her. She was forced to watch as the woman picked Dean up by the chin, raising him up until his feet were off the ground.

"Ugh," Dean grunted. "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date, but..."

While Julia struggled in the man's arms, the woman smirked up at Dean. "You know, we could have some fun," she tempted him. "I always like to make new friends."

The woman lowered her arm until Dean was level with her. She smashed her lips against Dean's, giving him no room to struggle. Julia pushed against the vampire holding her, anger welling in her chest, and shouted for the woman to stop.

"Get off of him!" she yelled at her, still trying to make her way out of the man's arms; he roughly took one of her arms and held it behind her back while placing his other arm in front of her mouth. "Ouch, hey! Let go of me, dammit!"

The woman pulled away from a disgusted Dean and smirked at Julia. "You got yourself a feisty one, don't you," she sent a dig toward Dean as she slowly walked toward Julia. "Mmm...Luther will like you, sweetheart."

Fed up with the talking, Julia kicked back her leg into the man's nuts, making him grunt and let her go. As soon as she was out of his arms, an arrow was shot through his heart and the woman's.

"Damn it," the woman grunted while Julia helped Dean up from where the vampire discarded him; Sam, John, and Luke came out of the woods where they were hiding, bows in their hands. "It barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart," John smirked at her. "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it?"

Like clockwork, the woman stumbled and faltered, fainting to the ground. John handed Dean his bow and picked her up. "I'll load her up," John called out toward Luke. "You take care of that one."

Luke grinned and pulled out his machete, angrily leering down at the vampire who was holding Julia. "It'd be my pleasure."

As John went to toss the vampire in Impala's trunk, Luke swung his machete, slicing through the vampire's head with ease.

-

"I told you I'm okay," Julia assured her father as they sat around the campfire he had built.

"That vamp had you pretty tight, Jujube," Luke said worriedly.

"I've had worse," she told him; she had gotten injuries with almost every hunt that she had been on with Sam and Dean—some of them worse than others.

Luke nodded understandingly. "And how is the training going? Are Sam and Dean treating you all right?"

Julia looked over at the truck, where Sam and Dean were talking to their father about his weapon storage. "Yeah, they are," she nodded, turning back to Luke. "and training's going fine. I did an exorcism on an airplane, you know."

Luke grinned. "I know you did," he hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "Listen, Julia, I'm sorry for not being there for you and your sisters. I've been with John on this from the very beginning and I got caught up in it. And, when Levi was killed," he shook his head and Julia was surprised to see him tearing up. "Well, I didn't want to face you girls."

"Why, though, Dad?" Julia didn't understand; a girl always needed her daddy.

"Because I was ashamed," Luke confessed. "We think that girl who was controlling the Daeva, the one who killed Levi, was working with the demon that killed Mary and Jessica. And, if she was, that meant that I brought her right to your brother. I'm the reason he's dead."

Julia grabbed Luke's left hand where his wedding ring was still wrapped around his fourth finger. "Dad, it's not your fault," she whispered, her eyes stinging with her own tears. "You couldn't have known that what happened to Levi would actually happen."

"I should have, though," Luke shook his head. "I've been hunting evil my whole life. I should have known that one of you—if not all of you—would pay the price."

"You can't think like that, Dad," Julia sniffed and wiped away some of her tears with her free hand. "You and Mom protected us the best you could."

Before they could talk anymore, the Winchester men walked over to the fire. John was holding a bundle of herbs, which he threw in the fire, immediately stinking up the vicinity.

"Gross," Julia wrinkled her nose at the smell. "What the hell is that?"

"Saffron, skunk's cabbage, a trillium," John informed her. "It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready."

Dean coughed and shook his head. "The stuff stinks."

"That's the idea," Luke let go of Julia's hand and stood up. "Dust your clothes with the ashes and you stand a chance of not being detected."

"And you're sure they'll come after her?" Sam questioned his father, nodding over to the vampire they had tied to a tree.

"Yeah," John confirmed. "Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun but the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half-hour ought to do it," Sam checked the machete in his holster.

"And then we want you three out of the area as fast as you can," Luke ordered.

Julia stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"

"You guys can't take care of them all," Dean protested.

"We'll have her and the colt," John placated him, pointing to the vampire.

"But after, we're gonna meet up, right?" Sam stared hard at his dad. "Use the gun together, right?"

John paused for a long moment, giving them the answer they needed.

Sam scoffed. "You're leaving again, aren't you?" he confronted John. "You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?"

"Like children."

"You are my children," John said firmly. "I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but that's bullshit," Dean spoke up, earning shocked looks from Sam and Julia.

Never before had Julia heard Dean speak up to his dad like that; and, by the way Sam was looking at his brother, he hadn't heard it either. Julia was proud of him; he was finally sticking up for himself.

John blinked in disbelief at his oldest son. "Excuse me?"

"You know that Sammy, Jules, and I have been hunting," Dean stood his ground. "Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean."

"Then what is it?" Dean asked him. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon is a bad son of a bitch," John told them slowly, like they were kids wouldn't couldn't understand evil and the danger it brings. "I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," Dean retorted, seeing through his dad's bullshit.

"Look," John sighed. "I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. You mother's death, it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die?" Dean countered, his voice wavering. "Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking and I...Maybe Sam's right about this one. We should do this together."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are," Dean continued. "You know it."

John shook his head. "We're running out of time," he changed the subject. "You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

Luke tapped Julia's shoulder and when she turned to him, he nodded in Sam and Dean's direction. She knew that he was silently telling her to go with them but she agreed with the brothers; they should stick together. Sam and Dean had as much of a right to see this demon dead as John did.

"Go," Luke urged her. "Be careful."

-

While John and Luke left with the female vampire to lure out half of the nest, Julia, Dean, and Sam wiped out the rest of them who were left at the barn. It turned out that after a few tries, Julia did have enough strength to behead a vampire, which gave her much relief that she could defend herself.

After they freed the hostages, they made their way to where the fight between John and Luke and the vampires was going down. When they arrived, the vampires had John knocked out and Luke fighting a lost cause. But the tide turned in their favor when Dean shot an arrow drenched in dead man's blood into one of the vamps.

The three of them rushed at the vampires, their machetes drawn. Sam took out two vampires, one after another, while Dean killed the vampire that had Luke on the ropes. Julia was right behind him, ready to kill one of the last ones when another vampire came up behind her and forcefully pushed her to the ground.

The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground hard. The vampire who pushed her down stood over her, feet on either side of her body, and bent down, backhanding her face so hard she could taste blood. He wasn't finished with her, though; he grabbed her around the neck and lifted her with one hand, swinging her around so his arm could snap her neck and kill her within a second.

Julia's wide and fearful eyes were on a furious Dean, who was posed to attack the vampire, machete raised.

"Don't," the vampire warned him lowly. "I'll break her neck."

Julia inhaled deeply, silently panicking. This wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful.

"Put the blade down."

Dean hesitated, fire in his eyes, and when Julia grunted as the vampire squeezed her neck threateningly, he did as he was told. He raised his free hand and lowered the machete to the ground with the other. Sam dropped his blade as well, raising his hands in the air.

"You people," the vampire hissed as Julia wheezed in his hold. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so."

The vampire whipped around at John's voice, bringing Julia with him. John had the colt in his hand and waited for less than a second before aiming at the vampire and pulling the trigger. The bullet went right between the vampire's eyes, making him still.

Dean hurriedly pulled Julia into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her. Sam hovered near them, all three of them watching with wide eyes as the vampire slowly died.

The female that they had caught had tried to go after John but the last one wasn't having it. She dragged her into one of the vampire's cars and drove off, leaving Julia, Dean, Sam, Luke, and John to deal with the rest of them.

The vampire chapter of the story was done for now. They were safe and they had the colt. Now, all they had to do was track that demon down and kill it, just like it killed Mary and Jessica.

(Gif is not mine)

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

[mltrefry-ficwriter]

A TV series AU in which there was no last prophecy from Agnes. 

Crowley and Aziraphale face their executions with the memories of the hours before lingering in their minds. Only things don’t go quite as anyone expected….

                                                         ————

He watched the holy water fill the tub, and sighed quietly to himself, resigned. It was a good run, really. Six thousand or so years, the last few decades with more Aziraphale than he’d ever thought he’d get, especially that last one. It was wonderful, best years of his long life, really. Though last night was easily the best. How could it not be? “This is, in all likelihood, the last night we live.” Aziraphale had said in the quiet darkness of Crowley’s flat. He looked to his hands, wringing them before hesitantly reaching for Crowley’s hand. “Crowley,” he said his name so reverently that the demon’s knees buckled a little. “My dear, dear Crowley. If this is our last night, the last moments of our lives….” “Angel-” He tried to interrupt, but Aziraphale shook his head. “No, dearest, I must confess. Because I think… I think if I keep quiet much longer I’ll surely die all the sooner.” He smiled, sadly. “Well, inconveniently discorporate from an implosion of the heart. But, well, it would just mean heaven would get a hold of me that much sooner.” He took a deep breath, “I love you. I have… for so long.” Hearing those words was all he really needed, everything that came after? That was just the … thing that goes on cake, whatever it was. Aziraphale would certainly know. 

That’s what he thought about as he prepared for his fate, a fate he’d always known was going to come. The Arrangement was always going to be his end, but at least the last hours before said end were…everything. The water finally stopped pouring, the tub ready. The small usher, a toad-like creature, was sacrificed to ensure the holiness of the water, and Crowley averted his eyes behind his sunglasses so he wouldn’t have to watch. “Demon Crowley, I sentence you to execution by holy water. Do you have anything to say?” Beelzebub asked. Crowley glanced down at his feet, his eyes catching on his tie, his jacket. Hands gripped his lapels to pull him in, a giggle of pure joy against his lips before those hands ran from the lapels to his tie. “Yes, this is a new jacket, mind if I take it off?” Let one thing from the last few hours survive. “Keep making jokes, funny man.” Hastur sneered. Crowley’s lip curled, but he kept his mouth shut as he removed his jacket. And then his tie. Maybe there would be enough holiness somewhere in the fibers that a demon would burn their fingers when they picked it up after he met his demise. But that’s all he removed, all he was willing to. He wasn’t about to give the demons a show. Jacket and tie discarded, Crowley squared his shoulders. He was never very brave, he’d always been more than willing to run than face up to things, but he thought of his angel. His brave, wonderful angel who was likely no longer in existence. Human’s had an afterlife, but did angels? Do demons? Only one way to find out. He took a breath, and and inched forward. Crowley turned around inching back, his legs hitting the lip of the tub. He closed his eyes, and he remembered. He remembered Aziraphale through the years, of course, there were so many memories. But he focused mostly on their last hours. Of lips on lips, of sighs and giggles. Of “I love you” spoken so reverently it must have been a form of blasphemy. As he exhaled, he sunk backward.

————

Aziraphale felt much less confident than he portrayed, looking at the pit of hellfire roaring toward the ceiling. He knew, logically, that this was the only way to truly kill an angel. And though he was pretty sure that he and Crowley were not going to survive to see another night, he still had a hard time believing this was happening. There was still a small part of him that thought perhaps he’d be imprisoned or set to task for the rest of eternity. They were meant to be the good guys, after all, which was a thought he voiced earlier. Not that it was heard. Heaven had to make an example of traitors, after all. But how was he a traitor? He certainly didn’t turn his back on the Almighty, and he was more certain now than he ever was that the Great Plan was not Her plan, not the Ineffable Plan. He truly believed if Armageddon was meant to happen, it would have, and he wouldn’t have spent the night…. Oh, the night. He felt his heart flutter at the memory. “You don’t have to say it,” He told Crowley, gripping his hand tighter as Crowley continued to stare at him in disbelief. “I’ve felt it for a long while, my dear. Your affections, that is. I’ve tried to ignore it, admittedly. What could be done, we were on opposite sides for so long? But Crowley-” “I love you,” Crowley rushed. “I love you, I love you, Angel, I love you, I love-” Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s lapels and pulled him in, silencing the demon by kissing him happily. He giggled as Crowley, momentarily stunned, was suddenly very enthusiastic. As Aziraphale was pulled closer, his hands moved to Crowley’s tie.  The heat on his skin now, radiating from the inferno before him, wasn’t nearly as lovely as the heat he’d felt on his skin just hours before. They may have come from the same place, but they were infinitely different. At least he had that, that knowledge of Crowley’s skin, and mouth, and words deep in his soul to take with him when he left the realm. Whether he moved on or simply vanished, he would carrying that joy, the love, with him. A joy and love he never felt here, in heaven, among those he was meant to call his own. A joy and love second only to the almighty, though he had a feeling that, had it surpassed even that, She would not be all that upset. She was about love, wasn’t she? And they were meant to love all creatures. If he loved one demon more than anyone and anything else, well…. He looked at Gabriel, Uriel, Sandalphon, wondering to himself for a moment if they knew love. Proper love, not just that of heaven that they sensed more than felt. Did they knew what it was like to have someone who they could always count on to be there? That made existence that much better? No, he didn’t think they did. He hoped they would, one day. He truly did, even if he didn’t like any of them very much. Maybe if they do, the future will be different. Maybe the angel that will take his place on Earth will befriend Crowley’s replacement. Maybe they’ll understand that they weren’t so different. Maybe…. But he won’t be around to know, will he? “Right,” He sighed, standing taller. “Well, lovely knowing you all. Maybe we meet on a better occasion.” “We won’t.” Gabriel said, a bit too cheerful behind his stony demeanor. “It’s hellfire. It will destroy you absolutely and utterly and for ever. Now shut your stupid mouth and die, already.” He grinned, just for a moment, before glaring. Aziraphale’s jaw tightened. Okay, perhaps maybe he didn’t wish the sort of love he had for Crowley on Gabriel. Crowley. Aziraphale turned to the fire, and focused on his demon. Hands on his back, his sides, in his hair. Beautiful, golden eyes closed in ecstasy. Hisses coming unbidden and uncontrolled, but for once in sheer bliss than stress. Aziraphale closed his eyes, remembering the way Crowley’s voice broke on the pet name he’d deny was a pet name as he stepped into the hellfire.

————

It took Crowley a few seconds to realize he’d replayed the night before a bit longer than someone who was dead should be able to. And then, as he came back to himself, he felt uncomfortably wet. It was a great thing he’d had so much practice at playing cool, otherwise the surprise he’d felt would have been clear on his face when he opened his eyes and found himself very much alive, sitting in a bathtub in Hell. Had… had the water been replaced somehow? No, no, he watched the little usher melt in this same tub. Could that have neutralized the water somehow? Crowley lifted his hand out of the water, watching the droplets fall from his fingers a moment before flinging his hand toward the window next to the tub, spraying the droplets against it. It sizzled harshly, the demons behind the protective glass jumping back as small puffs of smoke wafted above Crowley’s head. Right, so not neutralized. He sunk down a little further into the tub, miracling the water a bit warmer.   He sighed happily. “That’s better.” He said, shifting his legs, stretching them out, crossing his ankles and not-so-accidentally sloshing water over the edge of the tub. The sizzle was loud, the yelps of the demons in the faux courtroom jumping back was louder, and far more amusing. “Quite relaxing, really. A bit cool at first, but once ya warm if up it’s very nice.” He turned and smirked at Hastur, glancing at Beelzebub, “You should try it sometime.” They stood horrified, and Crowley didn’t blame them. He was terrified, so much so he lulled his head back, then turned to catch his face in the glass. He took off his glasses, dipping them in the water before tossing them over the side. As they clanked against the floor, he focused his attention on the snake eyes reflecting back. So, not risen, that was… well not good. Wasn’t precisely bad, either. He didn’t know what it was, actually. “The water, in the flat,” he heard Hastur say. “In the mister. He could have….” Oh. Right. He had bluffed but if he hadn’t, well, it didn’t matter did it? There was a ding, and Crowley turned his head to watch Michael come into the room. “I’ve come to collect the - Oh, lord!” She gasped, tightening her grip on the jug. “Sorry, wrong floor.” He said, turning back and sinking back in the tub, his heart beginning to pound. If she were here, back so soon… did she… did she come from Heaven? Had she seen Aziraphale…? There was talking in the room, but Crowley couldn’t hear them. Didn’t want to hear them, because if she mentioned what happened to his angel, he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool. He wouldn’t be able to take the minor bit of joy that was coursing through him for surviving his execution. He closed his eyes again, recalling the morning before they took the walk they knew would be their last. Or, thought. He remembered the way the light made Aziraphale’s curls glow, the sparkle in his eyes that was made of love, and joy, and a just a touch of tears. He remembered the feel of his angel’s fingers on his cheek, the breath on his chin. “You, up.” Michael commanded, and he opened his eyes. He looked up, and saw something in Michael’s eyes he hadn’t seen before: weariness. Crowley looked past her to Beelzebub. They were standing a few feet behind Michael, looking expectant, a little worried. Hastur was behind them, smiling smugly. “Alright,” Crowley shurgged, swung his feet around, pushing himself up, sloshing so more water on the floor. Beelzebub stepped back a little, avoiding any run-off. “Follow me.” Michael said, turning and waving at him over her shoulder as she headed to the elevator. Crowley followed, sensing someone coming up the rear. The elevator doors opened, and Crowley followed Michael inside. Beelzebub inched in as well, sticking to the walls and avoiding everywhere that Crowley stepped. Well, he was going to dry off, but now? Where would be the fun in that?

————

He’d been able to recall Crowley’s arms around him for a bit too long, which could only mean that he was very much still alive. Yet, he knew this was hellfire. He saw the demon bring it up from below, he knew by the way the other angels took a step back that this was, indeed, the real thing. Probably. He opened his eyes, and saw the utter terror in Gabriel, Uriel, and Sandalphon’s face. Had he fallen? No, he didn’t think falling would be utterly painless. This, this was warm, comforting, almost blissful. He hummed happily. “This is nice.” He said with a smile, “pleasant. You should try it, really.“ He smiled bouncing on his toes a bit. "What is he?” Uriel asked, and Gabriel could only shake his head, confusion and disgust evident. There was the sound of “Do-Re-Mi” in a terrible, tinny recreation of a harp, and Sandalphon pulled a heavenly phone from his pocket. “Hello?” He answered, never peeling his eyes off Aziraphale. “No, he’s not.” Nothing else was said from Sandalphon’s end, and he ended the call, re-pocketing his phone, and only half turning toward Gabriel. “Michael is on her way up.” He said, “She’ll have company.” “Company?” Gabriel said what Aziraphale was thinking, more confused now than disgusted, though he still didn’t take his eyes off Aziraphale. Sandalphon merely nodded. It was obvious they weren’t going to be letting him out of the fire just yet, at least not until Michael and company came, so Aziraphale relaxed a fraction. He let his mind drift to warmth beside him in the dark of the early morning, of a head of flaming hair resting on his chest for just a moment. He sighed heavily, and heard a startled, choked sound that probably came from Gabriel. He only just realized after that his rather large puff of air had caused the hellfire to shoot out a bit. Before he could give in to the temptation of doing it again, the elevator chimed. He turned, and watched as Michael came out of the elevator, followed by Beezlebub, and a very wet Crowley. Maybe it was a mistake to smile the second their eyes met, but what was one more sin in the eyes of Heaven at this point? Well, Crowley didn’t smile so much as smirk, no glasses to cover the absolute adoration in his eyes. Oh, how often had that been hidden behind those dark shades, how many times in his life had he missed out on seeing them? “Well,” Gabriel’s voice boomed, the smack of his hands breaking the small spell. “It seems our plans are a bit… spoiled.” “It seemzz to be the case.” Beelzebub replied, a good few feet away from Crowley, eyeing him uncomfortably. Gabriel stared at the short Prince of Hell, then gestured to Aziraphale. “Alright, step out of the flame.” He did so, feeling a touch chilly as he did, like leaving a warm blanket next to a fire on a cold winter’s day. “I have a thought.” Michael said after looking between he and Crowley for a moment, a v forming between her brows. “What is it, Michael?” Gabriel asked, only a touch of his usual annoyance in his tone. Perhaps that really was just reserved for him, then. She remained silent a moment, eyes still flitting back and forth before she miracled a tall, clear glass. She then began to pour from the jug she had in her hand. “Demon Crowley,” She said conversationally as the glass filled. She righted the jug, then looked over at him. “You’re a bit wet. Perhaps you’d like to dry off.” She said, glancing at the tower of hellfire. Crowley looked at it, shrugging. “And maybe Aziraphale here would like a drink,” Michael added, extending the glass toward him. “You look like you could cool off after being in the flame.” Aziraphale took the glass, an understanding coming to him just a second after Crowley seemed to get the gist of what the archangel was thinking. “Michael, that’s brilliant,” Gabriel praised. “I mean, obviously, if they aren’t going to die by the usual methods, it needs to be a reversal, right?” “Juzt get on with it.” Beelzebub huffed. Aziraphale looked to Crowley who had been standing with a slight slouch, hands in his pockets as if this had all just been a very casual rendez-vous. He barely glanced at Aziraphale as he turned and moved to the flames, standing before it, taking those hands out of his pockets and standing straight. Aziraphale wanted to call to him, but he didn’t have to. Crowley turned around, and looked at him with those serpentine eyes. He could see the words they couldn’t say as plainly as he felt them, radiating deep within his being.

————

It had never occurred to him that maybe he was immune to holy water only to be killed by hellfire now. And Crowley couldn’t say he was overly fond of the idea of dying in heaven, a place he hadn’t ever wanted to return to. But this way he wouldn’t have to have his last thoughts be memories of his angel, his last moments could be looking at him as he stood across from him, holding a glass of something that may be his demise. It couldn’t be, though. Aziraphale had no more fallen than he had risen, so the water shouldn’t harm him. But then, the fire should have, and well…. Aziraphale raised his glass slightly, almost as if given a toast. He might have been exasperated if it weren’t for that tiny bit of worry in his eyes. But oddly, there was no fear. Funny, Crowley realized, he hadn’t been afraid, either. Aziraphale lifted the glass to his lips, holding Crowley’s eye the whole time, and the demon took a slight step back. The heat of the flame licked at his back, and the serpent in him begged for more. Still holding his angel’s eye, Crowley took that final step backward and Aziraphale tipped the contents of the glass into his mouth. As the flames roared just a touch at having been disrupted once more, the only other sound in the room was the quite gulps of Aziraphale. The angel gave a contented sigh as he finished the drink. “Lovely,” He said to himself, looking at the empty glass before looking back at Crowley. “How’s it, dear? Are you drying off?” Crowley grinned, tilting his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “Yep,” he said softly, rolling his shoulders. “Could stay here all day. Care to join me?” He asked, twitching his brows. Aziraphale gave a startled laugh, blushing a little. “Perhaps not just now.” “What,” Gabriel asked, cutting any further flirtatious banter off, “if going on. How…. How are neither of you dead?” “They’ve gone native.” Beelzebub said, morbidly fascinated. “They aren’t one of uz anymore.” “Then we torture them,” Sandalphon said simply, shrugging his stupid shoulders as he grinned with that stupid gold thingy in his teeth. “No,” Michael said, and Gabriel looked so betrayed, Crowley had to swallow a laugh. He noted Aziraphale turning his head away, bowing it slightly, the mirth heavy in his eyes. “No?” Gabriel nearly demanded. Michael, calm as ever, turned to her fellow Archangel and shrugged. “No.” She repeated. “Lord Beelzebub is right, they aren’t one of us anymore. They can’t be judged by us.” “B-but,” Gabriel started to stutter. “We could try and force Aziraphale to fall, but something tells me it wouldn’t work. There’s no where else for the demon to go, he certainly wouldn’t be welcomed back here if it were  possible.” She paused, studying Gabriel who remained baffled. “They aren’t of heaven or hell. They are of humanity.” She took the glass Aziraphale had still been holding from him, than miracled it away. “We need to let them go.” “Let them go?” He repeated. “Just like that, let them go? What about punishment? What about making an example?!” “I think it’s safe to say that they will never be welcomed back in Heaven or in Hell,” She replied, turning to Beelzebub with a brow arched. “Wazn’t exactly welcome to begin with.” They muttered. Michael turned back to Gabriel, “See.” She said. “We let them go, but they can never return.” “And if they discorporate?” he asked. “Then a body will be given to them promptly, and they’ll be sent back.” She stepped closer. “Better than having them around where others may see them and question.” Gabriel seemed to think on this, glancing at Beelzebub who appeared more bored than anything. They made a gesture, arms flailing and eyes bugging in a way that screamed, “sounds fine to me, can we get on with it”? Gabriel’s lip twitched ever so slightly. “Fine.” He relented, and Crowley swore he heard a groan of disappointment from Sandalphon. “Go,” Gabriel added, waving them off. For just a moment, Crowley considered asking for his jacket and tie, maybe his sunglasses. But when he took a step out of the fire, Aziraphale was at his side, hand sliding around to grip Crowley by the elbow, and began to lead him to the exit. He kept his mouth shut instead.

————

“Do you think they’ll leave us alone now?” Crowley asked him as they sat together on a bench in the garden. He was half laying against Aziraphale, sat in his usual, awkward way but using Aziraphale as a sort of  backrest. He didn’t mind, not at all. He’d moved his arm to have it rest around Crowley instead, keeping it free. He wanted to play with the demon’s hair, but that was probably a bit much for being out in public. “At a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Aziraphale replied. “Do you understand…?” Crowley asked tilting his head back just a bit. Aziraphale shook his head. “I think I do, I want to believe I do, but… no. I can’t for absolute certainty I know what happened.” He paused. “Beelzebub said we’d gone native, but that’s not quite right. I can feel my wings, my grace, my connection to heaven. I sense your demonic aura, and I’m willing to bet you are as intact as I am.” Crowley hummed his confirmation. “I believe, really, that maybe Adam had done something when he changed reality.” “That’s a possibility.” Crowley agreed. “We said we’d be there, for good or for evil. If he severed our connections in a small sense, just enough that we’re on our own side. On his side.” He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “I think this will be used as breathing space before the big one. All of us against all of them.” “Heaven and Hell against humanity?” Aziraphale asked. And that did seem the most likely, didn’t it? But was Adam going to live to see it, or perhaps he just realized who humanity’s best protectors would be? He glanced skyward as ray of sun shone on their little bench, the light a little warmer than normal, feeling almost divine in the literal sense. Well, maybe this was how it was supposed to work out in the end. A bit of heaven, a bit of hell, everything that it meant to be human being looked after by two beings who truly loved it all. It was … well, he wouldn’t say it. There wasn’t a need to. “Tempt you to a spot of lunch?” Crowley asked, leaning back again. “Temptation accomplished.” Aziraphale replied with a smile, one his serpent returned before leaning up and kissing him quickly, then practically slithering off the bench. “Perhaps after we can see if the bookstore was restored, seeing as how the Bentley was.” “What ever you want, angel.” Crowley said as he reached down and took Aziraphale’s hand, helping him up. He didn’t let go. “I wish we’d done this sooner,” Crowley said as they were pressed together in tangled sheets, the moon still high and shining bright. “Think of what we could have had.” “I know,” Aziraphale replied, pressing his forehead to Crowley’s closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. But you have me now, I’m yours. For as long as I exist, you’ll have me.” “Even if you exist for longer than a few more hours?” He said with a slightly teasing lilt, trying to keep the levity of the evening high. “Oh, dearest. I swear it, as long as I exist.” “You’ve always had me.” Crowley said, shifting to kiss Aziraphale’s forehead. “And you always will.”

#Ineffable Husbands #ineffable partners #good omens #good omens fic #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #Aziraphale #alternate universe #tv au #no beta #fan fiction