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thenovelartist · 3 years

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Boys as Dads - Tears of Themis Headcanons

I've been sitting on this for days, writing it after @luke-appreciator mentioned the boys as dads and henceforth planting the idea in my mind.

Luke

LOOK! Luke is living past his three year “time limit” goshdarnit! He gets to see his kids grow up!

And he has several of them with his MC (I’m thinking four or five.)

They were all mostly planned. (They were just rolling with however many they were blessed with until they decided to stop.)

When his first child was born, he cried. He didn’t think he’d get this opportunity, but now he’s a dad and feels overwhelmed by the blessing.

He is as involved in his kids’ lives as he possibly can be.

He’s the dad that will teach his kids how to fix everything.

Totally the hands-on dad of wrestling and headlocks and ruffling their hair.

Yes, even his girls, but in a slightly different context. Uses those moments to teach them self-defense. (Yes, he’ll do that to his boys, but he’s more concerned about his girls.)

That said, he’s very protective of his kids and wants to give them all the knowledge he can to make sure they can keep themselves safe.

Will try to get his kids into Sherlock Holmes.

One of his kids is named John after John Watson. It was actually MC’s idea, much to Luke’s surprise and delight.

When he’s away on mission (which already makes him sad because he doesn’t like being away from his precious family), he hates it when he has to go full dark mode. Because he’d at least like to call them and tell them good night if he can’t be there.

The king of pictures.

There are cameras scattered throughout the house so he can easily steal a picture whenever he wants to.

Will put together scrapbooks upon scrapbooks of photographs for all kinds of events. The kids get in on these activities, and it has become a bit of a family event to arrange the pages together.

Not a day goes by he takes for granted. Does not matter if he’s cleaning up diapers or one of his kids is sick or he’s having to do damage control when something gets out of hand. He cherishes all of it.

Vyn

I see Vyn having one or two. Both were totally planned.

Mostly, he just sees children as patients, but now, he’s got two children he actually raises.

And the moment his first child is placed into his arms, he realizes with sickening clarity that his actions have a direct impact on their lives.

While he knew that beforehand, there was a moment it clicked, and Vyn felt himself change that day.

He strives to be the best father he can, minding everything he does to lead by example.

He didn’t have the greatest childhood, meaning he does everything he can to make sure his kids never have to experience the things he wished never happened to him.

He’s a bit of a helicopter parent despite knowing he needs to not be. All he wants to do is protect his kids, is that so wrong?

However, because of that, he happens to understand and sympathize with parents more now. His kids wrecked him in ways he didn’t think possible.

It’s a bit of a learning experience for him to allow his kids to learn on their own. He knows so much and wants to just tell them everything they need to know, but realizes that he can’t do that. He has to let them learn and grow in their own ways.

He wants to give his kids the best, from quality schooling to extracurricular activities. But he’s also is more than happy to teach them their way around the kitchen and garden as well as play games and do puzzles with them.

Also really enjoys reading them books at bedtime. A habit that will linger around for surprisingly long while.

He’s the dad that is glad to help with homework whenever they need it.

Always offers to listen to them and talk them through things. It would be pretty shameful if the psychiatrist couldn’t help guide his own kids through their own mental hurdles.

And he knows he did something right because his kids are comfortable talking with him about a lot of things, even in their teenage and young adult years.

Ends up the dad who has the best life advice that his kids eventually learn to always listen to even if they don’t appreciate it when they’re younger.

Artem

Ends up with a large family, both adopting and raising his own.

Probably two of their own, and two or three (or four… maybe five) adopted.

The kids they had were planned; the ones they adopted… not always. It tended to be a “this one grew on you unexpectedly” situation.

Loves all his kids equally, whether they’re his own or adopted.

Super supportive dad. Probably spoils his kids in praise and hugs.

That being said, he won’t coddle them. He’s all for supporting them, but knows when to allow his kids face the negative consequences of their actions. He’s an attorney, after all. This is his “justice” side showing.

But he’s fair. He will guide them the best he can but will let experience be the teacher if he needs to. And if experience is the cruel teacher of the day, he’ll be there, whether to pick them up, dust them off, and offer hugs or to talk them through how to best navigate the consequences and avoid the situation next time.

His schedule revolves around any and all events in his kids’ lives. Which, considering the size of his family, is a balancing act.

Days off are sacred. That is his time to spend with his family.

Nightly family dinners are a big thing in the Wing household. Game nights on weekends are even bigger. And louder.

He’s the dad that can go from tutus and tea parties to action figures and lego sets. Whatever his kids are up for, he’ll gladly participate.

Every year, for each kid’s birthday, will spend one-on-one time with them and do whatever they want to do for an entire day. With a big family, especially with the adopted ones, he knows it might be easy to feel lost in the crowd and doesn’t want any of his kids thinking that.

Once a year, they go on a week-long vacation somewhere in nature. No phones, no technology; this is family bonding time and time for kids to just run around and be kids.

All in all, grade A dad.

Marius

Ends up with two or three.

The first one was a surprise, and likely one more after that was not planned, either.

But the moment he holds his first child, a switch goes off in his mind and Marius matures, knowing he’s got not only his girl to protect and keep safe but now a helpless little one who’s wholly dependent upon him.

He’s probably the second most hover-y of the boys behind Vyn. And that’s less because he’s a helicopter parent and more because he knows he’s a target for people and is very concerned for his kids’ safety. So he’s hypervigilant of everything, including what school they go to, who they’re friends with, where they go, etc.

Their house… oh my…

He’s an artist, and he will inspire that in his kids. There’s paint, stickers, crayons, and markers freaking everywhere.

Oh, and art taped to practically every wall. And a few in his office.

Marks every major event down on a calendar. His assistant knows there will be hell to pay if there’s a scheduling mishap.

Never let him help with homework (unless it’s art). Because he’s the guy who will teach his kids the smartass answers to some questions, even if it gets his kids in trouble.

(Spoiler: his kids never mind and instead pick up his bad habits.)

(Much to MC’s chagrin. Will make Marius go sit in the corner, much to his children’s delight.)

Will put his kids into any extracurricular activities they want growing up.

Totally spoils them in that way.

But the minute they turn into little shits about their wealth? Say good bye to your technology for the next few days. Marius is all about spoiling his kids, but not rotten. Even he hates snotty rich people he has to deal with, and he’s not gonna let his kids be like that.

Loves spending time doing things with his kids. Up for anything from the midday ice creams when mom told them no to spontaneous adventures. Oh yeah, he’s that dad.

#tears of themis #tears of themis headcanons #luke pierce #vyn richter #artem wing #marius von hagen

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lovetorn · 3 years

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Life Was A Willow [Part 1]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 2 Part 3

Summary: it's always been hunters vs. witches, right?

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings for part 1: violence, swearing

A/N: AHHHH !! It's finally here !! i'm going to be posting this in parts, originally 2, but looking at it now, it may even possibly be 3 parts. i've been working on this for months and i'm extremely happy with it !! i hope you guys love it as much as i do !!

The leaves of the willow tree rustle loudly whilst Y/n kneels in front of the raspberry bush. With each piece of the fruit, her fingertips are stained with a deep magenta as she plucks them off of the branches. Bark and twigs dig into her knees sharply when she reaches forward to grasp one last raspberry, but before she has the chance to pick it, the sound of horse hooves galloping on the dirt startle her.

“Ma’am! Are you alright?” A deep voice calls. Y/n sighs, standing from her spot on the ground before she turns around.

Five men on tan horses surround her. Her heart skips a beat when she recognises their uniforms. Witch hunters. With the nod of her head, Y/n smiles. “I’m doing just fine, gentlemen! Thank you for your concern.”

Although, she doesn’t recognise any of their faces—especially the man in a mask. The girl tilts her head at the sight of it; hardly any hunters wear a mask. But, what confuses her more is the taunting smile drawn lazily across the white ceramic. “Are you sure? There’s a whole lot of danger in these parts, sweetheart!”

Y/n almost rolls her eyes but stops before they catch onto her. “I promise, I’m completely fine.” She wishes she could see the expression of the man in the mask.

None of the hunters reply before they kick the sides of their horses and ride off in the opposite direction they came. Panic sets in as Y/n drops her basket of berries and sets off into a sprint, her skirts catching under her feet.

Being this far from home with hunters close-by is risky, Y/n knows this. But the raspberry bush had just ripened and she promised Wilbur she would bake him a raspberry cheesecake in return for repairing her wand.

Her lungs burn as she pushes open the small wooden gate that surrounds the house.

“Niki!” Y/n yells, her voice cracking slightly in fear. Her friend spins around from her spot in the garden. “Y/n! Take a look at the rose—��

Y/n only shakes her head, turning back in panic. “Hunters.”

“Quickly then, get inside, we must inform Wilbur.”

The pair rush into the cottage, Niki’s rose bush and Y/n’s basket of berries left behind.

The back door slams against the wall, only to be shut and locked as soon as it was opened. Wilbur stands from his spot at the dining table with a puzzled expression.

“How many?” Wilbur runs a hand over his face.

“A whole army. The King’s been busy; there’s a lot of new faces.”

The man sighs deeply. He turns to face Niki, who sits on the kitchen stool with a look of fear on her face. Y/n swallows and peers out of the small window. She sees a flash of white and the sound of an arrow cutting the air. “They’re here. They’ve followed me.”

—

Niki is the first to exit the house, her hands out in front of her. She clenches her jaw as she feels tingles through her muscles, her eyes shaped like crescent moons. The sound of branches cracking and leaves crunching makes her throw her hand to her right, which earns a distant cry as a hunter is thrown backwards.

Wilbur hurries around the house in search of his staff while Y/n whispers angrily at him to hurry up. The man lets out a quiet squeal when he spots it leaning against the living room wall and faces Y/n. He exhales, nodding once to tell her to go out the back door.

Y/n moves silently whilst passing windows and eventually through the door. Her eyes dart in every direction as she steps onto the dirt beneath her. The only sound is the snapping of bows and faint cries from the front of the house.

“Witch!” A voice calls. Y/n lifts her hands up, flecks of glitter-like sparkles falling from her fingertips. “We come to you on behalf of the King; he wishes to discuss potential alliances with you.”

Y/n struggles to distinguish where the voice comes from before there’s a hand on her back and she’s being pushed to the ground. She scowls and turns to face the person behind her; a man with a white bandana tied around his head.

Y/n jumps up instantly, moving her finger in a circular motion until the man’s feet begin to lift off the ground.

“Hey, hey! No!” He yells, scrambling to grasp the sword attached to his back. Y/n raises an eyebrow as she gets a closer look at the weapon.

“A diamond sword? Huh? Did Technoblade give you that?”

The man visibly stills, his hands fumbling the sword as he brings it up beside his face. “Yeah, what about it?”

Y/n shakes her head, a sad smile on her cheeks. “Nothing, Techno’s an old friend of mine. Tell me, is he well?”

The squeal of an arrow stops the man from answering her question. Y/n steps back when the sharp object swizzles past her head. “That wasn’t very nice.”

She chooses to pay no attention to the other hunter, who hides behind a tree and instead focuses on the one in front of her.

“Are you new?” Y/n asks calmly.

The man nods before Y/n lowers him back onto his feet. “Name. Now. That’s not a question but a demand.”

“Sapnap.”

Y/n squints at him. “Odd.”

“Y/n! We need help!” Wilbur calls from the opposite side of the house. Y/n sighs and places her hands back to her sides. The man with the diamond sword narrows his eyes at her, jerking his neck to the side to stretch it.

Y/n sighs in annoyance and sweeps him to the side, the roots from Niki’s rose bushes wrapping tightly around his body; not enough to hurt him, but to keep him immobile.

Y/n goes to step in the direction of the front of the house but is stopped by the man in the mask. A bow and quiver sit on his back and Y/n glances at them, planning on destroying them. “Don’t even think about it.”

Y/n is taken aback by the man’s forwardness and watches as he draws a dagger from his boot. Y/n raises her hands again, her eyes turning to slits as she awaits the man’s next moves.

As anticipated, he lunges forward, the knife tightly held in his fist. Y/n swiftly dodges, her hands moving majestically around to form a divet in the ground for him to fall into. However, she is quickly mistaken when he spins on his heel and steps over the growing hole.

“Nice tactic,” The man teases. “But not good enough.” Y/n is annoyed that she can’t see his face—she'd love to see what it’d look like after this.

Y/n rolls her eyes, a bored look on her face. She sighs deeply and steps into a fighting stance. She notices the man doing the same.

“Nice footwork,” Y/n says, stomping one foot into the earth before it starts to vibrate. “But not good enough.”

The man’s face falls and pales behind his mask as vines come to conceal his feet. Y/n smirks as he falls onto the dirt with a thump. The man lays with his back against the ground and his arms outstretched as Y/n stands above him.

She smiles at him—her grin is more genuine than usual, which is odd considering the circumstances—and leans down and places her mouth near his ear. “You know, you did pretty well for being a new hunter.”

The man scoffs then laughs in response. “Thanks.”

—

A hunter draws his sword, one made out of netherite, and Wilbur’s eyes grow in shock. “How did you get that?”

The man smirks and lifts the weapon high into the air. He brings it down towards Wilbur, who quickly matches the hunter’s strength with his staff. The two objects clash against one another and white light begins to seep through the lines in the staff.

Wilbur inhales sharply at the sight and pushes the man away with all his might. His staff starts to vibrate and soon the wood cracks in various places.

“Wil, move!” Y/n comes from behind him, her hands out wide as she lifts the hunter into the air and towards a tree. His body slams against the bark, making pieces fall onto the grass before branches weave around the man, enclosing him in a cocoon.

“Thanks,” Wilbur smiles, although it falters when he notices his staff becoming weak. “But I think it’s the end for this guy.”

Y/n frowns, her fingers caressing the cracked wood. “We can’t repair this. You must go to Quackity, he’ll be able to fix it.”

“I can’t fix this.”

Y/n’s jaw goes slack before she stands from the long table. “Alex! Why not?”

Quackity stifles a sly laugh as he rounds the table, picking up the broken staff on the way past. “It’s beyond repair. You see, when netherite and magical objects mix, the netherite completely destroys any magic within it. Therefore making it impossible to fix.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes, “We know that already, Sherlock, which is why we brought it to you thinking you could help us. But you clearly can’t, so we’ll be on our way.”

Quackity’s eyes widen and he drops the stick onto the table once more. “No! I–I can fix it, just give me a few days.”

Y/n raises an eyebrow, suspicious of his sudden enthusiasm. She slams the staff onto the table from Quackity’s hands and looks him in the eye. “No fucking around, okay, Alex? You fix this staff or there will be consequences. Got it?”

The man looks around his cave in search of something. Y/n squints as she watches him duck under rocks and dodge around cauldrons.

“Karl? Have you got any wands?” He calls down a hallway. Y/n and Wilbur meet gazes, his eyes moving towards the staff before Quackity returns in a hurry.

“Well, I haven’t got a wand to cast a promising spell, but if you come back in 2 days, I’ll guarantee this staff will be good as new and back in business,” He smiles, snatching the wood from the table. “Free of charge, just for you.”

Wilbur nods hesitantly, glancing at Y/n before he stands. “Okay. See you then, I guess.”

Quackity grins. He slowly shifts his weight to his other foot as he waits for them to leave. But Y/n isn’t finished.

“If you trick us, Alex. I swear to god I will take that little hat if yours and shove it right—”

The younger man shakes his head, “There will be no need! I’d never trick you! I just want to help my friends.”

Wilbur winces on the word ‘friends’ and ducks his head as he exits the cave. “See you!” Quackity says before Y/n follows in suit.

“Karlos, we’ve got work to do!”

“Down this way!”

Dream’s eyes drift towards the small cottage he and the hunters were at yesterday. Sapnap rolls his neck and groans in pain. “You’d think they’d wait a few days before going out again.”

Dream ignores his friend’s complaints as the group nears the house. The tidy garden and ivy that intertwined along the roof are torn and disrupted, and Dream feels slightly guilty looking at the damage they did. But, upon arrival, the house is empty.

“It’s been abandoned!” A brunette hunter yells in confusion. Dream twists his lips and narrows his eyes at a faint snap a few feet away. The silence is deafening as he realises everyone else heard it too. “Don’t move. We’ve been ambushed.”

The men look up towards the trees above them; the canopy appears darker than usual. Suddenly, a hunter behind Dream yelps, and as he turns around to see what happened, the man is gone. This causes a collective gasp amongst the group, fear coursing through their veins.

“Hello, boys!” A voice calls from the trees. The hunters whip their head around, trying to decipher which direction it came from and readies their swords. However, Dream remains calm. He only raises his eyebrow at the sound of the voice continuing. “Lovely seeing you here.”

Another yell echoes through the group and another and another until only Dream and Sapnap remain.

“Hey, Snapmap. Can I call you that? Or is that only reserved for your friends?”

The younger boy furrows his eyebrows as his eyes lay on Y/n, floating down from the trees. Dream watches the same girl he fought yesterday, fling Sapnap’s sword away with the swish of her fingers. The pair tilt their heads at the action and remain quiet when Y/n begins laughing. “Calm down, you’re acting like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dream feels someone behind him and then he turns around and swings his sword in one movement. He’s met with a slightly taller man, who immediately forces his sword backwards and onto the dirt.

Dream’s eyes widen before he brings his fists up. “This isn’t a fair fight.”

Wilbur struggles to contain his giggle as he meets Y/n’s gaze. “You want to take this one?”

Y/n nods and lifts her hands to drag Dream across the forest floor towards her. Dream is startled as he regains his balance. “Nice seeing you again, mask boy.”

“Can’t say I feel the same, witch,” Y/n smirks at his serious tone before she shoots her hand to the side to gather a sword from one of the hunters who sits tied to the branches above them.

“Get your sword, it’ll be a fair fight.”

Dream bends down to pick up his netherite sword, its purple aura intimidating to the iron one Y/n holds. “No magic.”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “Got it.”

And with the sound of metal scraping against metal, the fight begins.

Y/n steps back as Dream moves forwards. He bounces on the balls of his feet and adjusts his grip on the sword before he lunges forward. Y/n is quick to sidestep the sharp edge before she retaliates with her own movement. The pair continue barely missing each other, the interaction being a friendly fight rather than a deadly one. Y/n shifts her weight to her back foot as she watches Dream’s sword swing between them.

“What’s your name, anyway? I know Sapnap’s, so what’s yours?” Y/n asks, out of breath slightly. Dream squints as he dodges her swing at his abdomen. “Dream.”

“Well, Dream, you’re good with a sword. I’m Y/n, by the way.” Y/n mumbles, and what she doesn’t see is Dream’s cocky smile. She doesn’t question his odd name like she did with Sapnap yesterday, and it makes his stomach turn.

The pair stop for a second, staring at each other before Dream’s blade cuts the air and barely misses Y/n’s shoulder. The girl gasps at the closeness and scolds him.

In Dream’s moment of victory, and distraction, Y/n thrusts forwards, her sword coming to a halt at Dream’s throat. “I win. Again.”

Dream gulps. The feeling of the sharp point so prominent on his skin scares him. But, the soft look in Y/n’s eye tells him she’s not going to kill him. And as she begins to lower her sword, Dream’s foot sweeps under hers, causing her to tumble forward. There’s a dull thud of bodies hitting the dirt, and Y/n knows exactly where she is.

“I—Uh,” Dream mumbles, his hands hovering over Y/n’s hips as she lays on top of him.

“Thanks for that.” She murmurs. Dream hums and tries to help her maneuver off of him. The pair eventually stand and avoid eye contact, despite keeping it for close to 8 minutes straight previously.

“Get a room!” Sapnap yells from the tree. There’s a small grumble of laughter from the other hunters and Y/n shakes her head.

“How do you plan on getting down, Snapmap?” The youngest boy’s expression turns sour. Dream tilts his head back to observe the other hunters and laughs lightly—his throaty chuckle making Y/n look at him.

“Well, have fun!” Y/n calls as she slips away, but not before she bids Dream goodbye.

The hunters trudge through the castle gates with defeated expressions and their outfits muddy. The group share collective groans of pain as they walk the grounds, their muscles aching.

“What was all that between you and that witch?” Sapnap asks Dream whilst they enter the Hunters Wing of the castle. Dream shrugs and strips himself of his jacket, hanging it on the peg on the wall next to them.

The Hunters Wing of the castle is a large area with corridors of bedrooms and even more rooms for dining, training, cooking, reading, and more. The training room, however, is the largest out of all of them. Its high ceilings and concrete pillars make for a great place for target practice, surprise attack run-throughs, and performing hand-to-hand combat.

Dream spends most of his time here; Sapnap pokes fun at him for his constant preparation for new opportunities, but their other best friend, and the Prince, George, just applauds him for his determination—which eventually makes Sapnap agree.

“Nothing, and her name’s Y/n.” Dream’s lack of answer causes Sapnap to sigh loudly as he sits on the bench to untie his boots.

“Bullshit.” He exasperates. “There was definitely something there and you know it. But you better get over it, it's forbidden.”

Dream rolls his eyes and shrugs one shoulder. “Not forbidden, just frowned upon.”

Sapnap drops his shoes onto the cobblestone ground abruptly, groaning at his best friend before he stands and walks towards his bedroom. “You are such a—”

“Sapnap!” A new voice startles the boy, and Dream grins as soon as he recognises it.

“Georgie, don’t scare me like that, you idiot,” Sapnap whines, jogging over to the Prince to lightly punch his shoulder.

“Please, if that scared you then I’d consider you a—” Another light punch to his shoulder stops George from continuing.

“No swearing, Gogy,” Dream snickers as he walks towards the pair, heaving his duffle bag he collected from the cubby hole. He reaches his hand down to George’s cheek before pinching it. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your image.”

George shrugs both of the boys off of him with a scowl. “Get off of me, the both of you.”

Sapnap only giggles at George’s attempt at swatting their hands away, his own hand coming up to cover his smile. Dream places his bag on the floor, smirking, before letting out a soft laugh.

“Anyways, Dream had a moment with one of the witches today.”

George’s eyebrows raise as he turns to look at Dream, who rolls his eyes at the topic again. “Is she pretty?”

Dream goes to reply, yes, and she can fight really, really well, but Sapnap is quick to shut down his chance.

“George, it’s forbidden, why don’t you disapprove of this?” Sapnap’s brows furrow as he throws his hands around. Dream crosses his arms over his chest, irritated that he’s brought it up again, and now to the Prince.

The eldest shrugs. “I find magic more interesting and worth learning about, than dangerous. It would be so cool to have powers like that, don't you think?”

Sapnap groans again. “Ugh! You guys are so weird. Talk to me when you come to your senses about how it's destroying our world rather than helping it.” And ignoring Dream and George’s calls, he stalks to his room, leaving the pair in the training room.

“He’ll come around.” The Prince mumbles.

However, Dream doesn't say anything, picks up his duffle bag from the floor and takes off in the opposite direction, leaving George alone.

“Pricks.”

Y/n sits on the rocking chair on the patio of the cottage, a spellbook in her lap and a mug of lavender tea in her hand. The wind picks up slightly, making the leaves rustle and the trees sway around her. The chair rocks softly and the creaks of the house comfort her—especially in a time when everything is unknown.

As she goes to bring the cup to her lips, Y/n is startled by an object flying at her. She throws her opposite hand up to stop it before it hits her, the force causing the rocking chair to tilt backwards.

Y/n feels a sharp edge on her palm and her heart skips a beat. As she moves her hand away, she notices that the object is, in fact, not a dagger, but an envelope. She exhales loudly and feels her heart rate slow down from its once rapid beating.

Y/n examines the letter as it floats in front of her face and then grasps it in her fingers. The envelope is crisp and white and is closed with a red wax seal. The signature can only mean one thing: the Castle.

Opening the letter, there is a single white card with black calligraphy: Y/n, wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark, at the abandoned cottage that is East of the castle. We can talk then. –C

The witch furrows her eyebrows. C? Who is C?

She chooses against notifying Wilbur and Niki about the letter, and instead, slots it into her spellbook and takes a sip of her tea.

But, Y/n notices a return address on the card before she tucks it away, and flicks her hand back over her shoulder to summon a pen and paper. The pen stills in front of the card, waiting for Y/n to instruct it on what to write.

“Dear, C,” Y/n starts, she ponders for a moment before continuing. “I’ll be waiting for the signal, I hope it’s grand.”

Puckering her lips, Y/n swirls her finger around to fold the letter up and sends it back inside to package it.

The envelope, now sealed with periwinkle wax, flies out of the floor and then up into the sky and out of sight. Y/n sighs, mindlessly fiddling with the corner of the card she received.

Ok, she’ll meet them after dark. Whoever they are.

#lwaw #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagines #dreamwastaken imagine #dream smp imagines #dreamwastaken x fem!reader #dream x fem!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt imagines #life was a willow

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choco-exe · 3 years

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the one where oikawa cheats on his forgiving and insecure s/o

anonymous asks: choco you should really sleep early if you dont want to be sleep deprived for your classes!! and may i request a scenario when oikawa cheats on y/n and she catches him but like is insecure as hell and at the same time super forgiving? and he keeps on cheating and eventually she just breaks and tells him to get out of her life? it can be angst to fluff and i just wanted to say your writing is super awesome!!

a/n: haha sleeping early? not in my vocabulary, but thank you for both caring and liking what i write :> oikawa is kind of ooc since we all know he would never cheat.. or would he?

tw: angst, cussing, mentions of the deed (no actual descriptions of it) and violence

𝚘𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊 . . . 🖉 [𝟷𝟸𝟻𝟻 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜] ♔ he was making out heavily with another girl at a cafe the first time you caught him cheating ♔ to say you were heartbroken was an understatement; he knew of your insecurities of you not being good enough to him, so why..? ♔ you watched him from where you were seated, rooted to the spot as the pair gave the illusion that they were eating each others’ faces ♔ once your senses came back to you, you fled the scene and cried your eyes out back at your home ♔ you acted like everything was fine the next time you saw him, though; it was a one time thing.. right? ♔ oh how very wrong you were ♔ the next incident took place in the boys’ locker room ♔ you had gone to ask him if he was up for a date, when you heard that he wasn’t alone in there; to make matters worse, it sounded like a female ♔ peeping through the barely-opened door, your heart plummets to your stomach as you see oikawa kiss down the girl’s neck ♔ you’ve seen her before; her name was yagami daitan- one of the most popular girls on school- and is now about to fuck your boyfriend ♔ for a brief moment, you considered barging in and confronting oikawa as he continued his way down ♔ but instead, you ran as far as your legs could carry you; you couldn’t watch for any longer ♔ this began to happen frequently, you would hear moans coming out from the supply closet on one day, and the sound of kissing in a vacant classroom in the next ♔ and each time you heard them, the spark in your eyes gave out more and more ♔ people had begun to notice how dead you looked and acted, but the most concerned person was none other than iwaizumi ♔ he would always ask how you were doing, or brought your favorite food to you whenever he could ♔ eventually rumors had started circling around, saying you and oikawa were no longer official ♔ iwa had noticed that you two were becoming distant, but he didn’t realize that you had been treading on ice for a long period of time around oikawa ♔ so the next time he saw the both of you, he had something to say about it.. “You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Iwaizumi asked bluntly. It was lunchtime, and the three of you, plus Hanamaki and Matsukawa, had all opted to sit on the roof, as the cafeteria was filled gossiping students.

“What makes you say that, Iwa-chan~?” Oikawa replied, poking your cheek. “We’re happily in love, right, Y/N-chan?”

“Mhm..” You murmured, picking at your rice with your chopsticks. Makki and Mattsun exchanged glances as Iwa frowned at your response.

“No enthusiasm, Y/N?” Makki questioned.

“Not even a sliver of it?” Mattsun added.

You glared at the both of them, the bags under your eyes making you look quite frightening. “Mind your own fucking business.”

Everyone was silent; they had never heard you cuss before. You went back to picking at your rice, your expression indicating that you wanted to drop the subject.

“Wow, Y/N-chan, you sounded very cool when you said that!” Oikawa said enthusiastically, breaking the heavy silence. “Badass, don’t you think?”

You snorted, looking up at him. “Yeah, sure.” You replied. “You would know a thing or two about being an ass..”

The setter blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re pardoned.”

“Y/N, that wasn’t what I meant and you know it.”

You rolled your eyes as you threw your chopsticks into the rice. “No shit, Sherlock.” You began packing up your food.

Iwaizumi frowned even harder. “Y/N-”

“What’s with the attitude?” Oikawa cut in, obviously not pleased. “Why are you acting so rude-?”

“You want to know why?” You furiously asked, slamming the cap down on your food container. “It’s because I’m sick of you cheating on me with Yagami Daitan, that’s why.” Shoving it into your bag, you zipped it shut as you glared at the captain. “Honestly, I’m not sure why I put up with it in the first place.”

As you began to stand up, Oikawa grabbed your wrist, frowning. “I’d never cheat on you, Y/N. What are you talking about-”

The cheating asshole lying to you just about made your mind throw away all sense of calm. Yanking your wrist out of his grip, you kicked his food in his face, the death glare etched on your face making it clear that you were beyond outraged. “If you had just admitted that you were cheating, I may not have snapped, Oikawa.” You said coldly, clutching your bag as your hands trembled from fury. “Had we not have been on campus, I would’ve split your skull in half and slit your throat. Don’t fuck with me.” You spun on your heels and strided off the roof, a dark aura surrounding you as you went.

There was yet another heavy silence in the air with the four as they all processed what had just happened.

“What the fuck, Shittykawa?!” Iwaizumi was the first to snap out of his shock. “You cheated on her?!”

The said setter hastily wiped his food off his face. “I-”

“That was a low move, Oikawa..” Matsukawa stated, frowning.

“I didn’t know that she knew; if I did, I wouldn’t have-”

Hanamaki interrupted him. “Cheating has no explanations, Oikawa.” He said. “What a shitty decision.”

Iwaizumi slowly stood up. “Get up, Shittykawa.” He told him. “Get up so I can punch you to hell.”

“Iwa-”

“YOU CHEATED ON THE GIRL WHO WOULD’VE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING, SHITTYKAWA. YOU TRADED YOUR CHANCE WITH HER FOR A FUCKING WHORE WHO WOULDN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU, HAD YOU NOT BEEN TAKEN.”

Oikawa stayed silent as he contemplated what Iwaizumi just said. Makki and Mattsun stared disapprovingly at him as Iwa clenched his hands into fists.

“You hurt the only girl who cares for you, you son of a bitch. I hope you rot in hell.”

With that, Iwaizumi walked away from his team captain, dragging the other two along with him so that Oikawa was alone. The said setter looked down at his hands; the ones who held yours, wiped your tears away when you were going through rough times, cradled your face as he kissed you repeatedly. The ones that held another girl’s body as he cheated on you.

“Tooru..” A voice interrupted his thought process, and his eyes trailed up to see none other than Yagami herself. “I overheard everything.. I’m really sorry that I caused all of this, but at least you broke up with her..?”

“. . .”

“..and I don’t want to ruin your day even more, but.. we were too reckless..”

His head flicked up as she said each word. “Don’t tell me-”

She looked down at her feet, fiddling with her hands. “I’m-”

Oikawa cussed his heart out, running a hand through his chocolate-brown hair. “A single lunchtime carrying more bad news than the whole year.. pathetic..”

Yagami took a deep breath and tried to smile. “On the plus side, you still have me, yes?” She nudged herself forward, bracing herself for his response. “We could also.. be more than just friends with benefits-”

Oikawa roughly pushed past her. She tripped over air and fell flat on her ass with a grunt and stared at his retreating back, eyes filled with hurt.

“..there must be another way to ruin their lives..”

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teeth-and-tea · 3 years

Text

ANIME & MANGA I HAVE BINGED IN THE LAST MONTH: May 2021

I've Been Hunting Slimes for the Past 300 Years and Now Ive Maxed Out My Level: incredibly long name aside, cute af slice of life that suffers Same Face Syndrome. I'm still happy to watch it because of how feel good and fluffy it is though, Im probably gonna forget about it in two or three years tho. 8/10.

Don't Toy With Me, Miss Nagatoro: I found out this was a webcomic first and suddenly all the HORNINESS made so much more sense. A Femdom, Degradation, Humiliation, Dacryphilia Bullies to Lovers story disguised as a high school rom-com which, I'm not going to lie, misses SKEEVY CITY by mere inches on a regular basis. However, I'm a Dom/Switch and this entire relationship sets off my dom brain center like New York City just shy of midnight. So if you're into that sort of scene, this anime is for you. If not, it's still fascinating but you're probably gonna be a little put off by how mean the Girl!Bully is to the guy MC. Unless you find out something about yourself, in which case, congrats! Stay safe, sane, consensual, and learn about the traffic light system on top of safe words, I promise you'll have a better life in general after that. Still Ongoing, currently 10/10.

Fruits Basket: IM GONNA CRY I LOVE THIS ANIME SO MUCH???? The original anime came out when I was in... I think middle school and my parents were really strict on what I watched so I never got to experience the first wave and I never bothered to watch the show ever after I moved out of the house years later. However, now that I'm much older I honestly can say this is one of my favorite anime to date, and all the characters are charming, lovable, with their own problems that I can connect to or sympathize with, and I love the MC which is always a treat tbh. Except Akito. Akito can suck a sandpaper dick. I'm only on S2 tho so no spoilers! Anime 11/10.

Monster Girl Doctor: went in thinking it was gonna be a monster girl who's a doctor with a homoerotic assistant (her name is SAPPHY okay sue me for thinking it) and ended up watching the entire dubbed harem series. Honestly, I've seen worse and this one has consistent follow-through on interesting characters and backstory enough for me to shove aside the blatant under-monstrousness of the female monsters and the harem-ness of everything else. Dubbing is honestly really good, which is a treat, and the monster designs are not the worst and the MC is tolerable. Honestly, I don't mind having watched it! The mix of cgi and the traditional animation together work pretty strangely though, and it often doesn't flow super well. 7.5/10

So I'm a Spider, So What: Dubbed version which honestly isn't that bad. Took me a bit to get into it, but after realizing that it's got a mismatched timeline a la The Witcher, it made so much more sense. Heavily done in cgi, and you can definitely tell between the 2D and 3D animations, but not the worst in the world. I went in not expecting much but it ended up being an Issekai I can stand and even enjoy. On god has a decent story... with the spider. I'd be a liar if I didnt say I skipped some of the human parts just to get back to the best part of the show. 8/10.

Somali and the Forest Spirit: I'm so fucking nostalgic for this thing it makes me want to go and hug my dad. About a human girl under threat of being eaten with a monster-dominated world. Very obvious "humans fear what they don't understand" message but instead of the humans learning tolerance it's what happens when they get annihilated first so like, kudos for the mangaka for having the guts to do that. I cried like a baby regularly. It's really good, I watched the dub and ID WATCH IT AGAIN!!! 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Oh my god. O h my g o d. Fell in love on the first episode, ngl. About if an immortal being learned how to be a person from scratch. I love it. HOWEVER. Keep a box of tissues on you at all times because you're gonna need them. I'm only on EP7 because that's all that's out right now but just know. I love it. Not for everyone but certainly for my "what do we define as human and the human condition" ass. 12/10.

Those Snow White Notes: A sports anime without any sports. About shamisen playing which is cool because I never realized how cool this instrument was??? Its neat af. OP1&2 are by Burnout Syndrom so know theyre fire. Gonna be real, its pretty alright, but not extraordinary. You can tell they were using the characters as archetypes rather than actually characters which kinda kills a lot of the emotional value you could've had, but I'm still gonna watch it. It doesn't make me cringe as hard as other sports anime tho so I consider it toptier in that regards but if you're a big sports anime fan you might be bummed out by it. Every single musical performance is INCREDIBLE tho. A solid 8/10.

Toilet Bound Hanako-kun: THE ART OMFG IT'S SO GORGEOUS. Listen, if you took coptic markers and gave them an animation budget with some manga panel direction thrown in there, that's this anime. It's beautiful. Gorgeous. I'm in love with the aesthetic every second. Story? Really good. Characters? I love the MC and his evil little twin brother asshat. Demons? Not super imaginative but I'm carrying on happy as can be anyways. Dubbing? A bit shaky at times but I found the voices charming if a little off for some of them. I'm already waiting for the second season with popcorn at the ready. 10/10.

Prison School: I watched this directly after Hanako-kun and it was like I got slapped in the face by sweaty unwashed titties and some fedora wearing schmuck's piss kink. No character is likable or redeemable. I finished it, but at what cost? 2/10 and only because a character shit his pants and I laughed.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle: watched this right after Prison School and it was NECESSARY tbh. Its so CUTE and honestly, im not even kidding you, the fucking funniest anime I've seen in months. I watched the dub and the VAs are having the time of their lives working on this anime not just giving it their all but literally just going ham. Its great. If I read this im sure id be bored outta my mind but the VAs giving it a joyous performance make it an insta fave for me tbh. 9/10.

Sk8 the Infinity: i watched the dub with my bro and I can confirm that its a spectacular show because we both loved it and we have vastly different tastes. Incredibly SUSPENSFUL AND STRESSFUL for an anime about skateboarding but we finished it in a single sitting tbh. The last episode is not dubbed for some reason but we still loved it. Like if Free! was less obnoxious but the only fan-service here is Joe ♡ a beefcake who owns my lesbian heart. I think there's exactly one named female character tho and I legit couldn't tell you what it was if there was a gun to my head. So, over all, 9.5/10.

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: I'm going to be entirely honest, I went in thinking it was going to be a boring isekai of no value. I was right about the Isekai part. It was honestly pretty interesting and focused on nation building like you're playing civilization rather than the usual "Get Stronger" narrative or "Get Some Pussy" narrative most isekais take which is delightfully refreshing. Granted there are flavors of that in this which means it doesn't alienate the big isekai watchers out there, but it's not the whole dish and it doesn't make me want to cringe the same way others do. You've got a slime MC just vibing and building a nation of monsters nbd. Does lose points for making the female monsters more humanoid than their male counterparts but makes them back by only doing perfunctory fan-service and nothing that makes me want to cry... except the butt sumo episode but in fairness it was all a terrible dream. Literally, the MC refuses to dream anymore after that. solid animation, decent voice acting, decent story, made me realize how HUGE this is in the Light Novel community???? There's like 18 fucking novels and that's WILD. 8.5/10.

MANGA:

Spirit Photographer Saburo Kono: a one shot special by the mangaka of The Promised Neverland! Honestly a really delicate touch of both super creepy and really touching, and I'm not gonna lie I'm bummed that this isn't a bigger project but the single chapter makes it a good taste for their style. I've been wondering if I wanna read/watch The Promised Neverland and now I think I will. 10/10

Deranged Detective Ron Kamonohashi: from the mangaka of Hitman Reborn comes this Sherlock and Watson derivative! Not even 20 chapters out yet with a sort of spotty schedule, I honestly love it even thought it's exactly as you expect. HOWEVER. Kamonohashi the "Sherlock" character uses mental pressure to kill all confirmed murderers and it's up to Toto the "Watson" character to save all those people before Kamonohashi kills them! It's just recently introduced a "Moriarty" family of crime lords (not a big spoiler don't worry it was obvious) so the tension surrounding Ron's past is amping up rn. Personally, I think the art is GORGEOUS, the characters engaging, and the story quick enough to keep my interest. Most mysteries are solved within a chapter or two so you're not stuck 20 chapters into one locked room mystery which is just peachy tbh. RN, 10/10. If this gets an anime, I anticipate a legion of fangirls who ship the two main characters along with their many friends. I've been alive too long to believe otherwise.

Don't Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro: Yeah I read the manga after I watched the show. A slower build than the anime, but it works for the format, if theyd done the same with the show then I don't think it wouldve done as well. Honestly? Cuter tbh but just as horny. You dont start really LEARNING about your character until like, chap 65 tho and no real "drama" happens until like 75. A good chunk of the chapters are like 8pgs so its a breeze to get through. I love these slow burn idiots of the century. 9.5/10 because you can DEFINITELY tell the mangaka does hentai too.

Yugen's All-Ghouls Homeroom: one-shot by the mangaka for Food Wars, it's no wonder there's this constant perviness from the MC, a guy who can see and exorcise spirits. Takes place at an all girl's finishing school with KICK ASS monsters tbh, kinda bummed its not longer. The MC? Blatant monsterfucker who is also a CONFRIMED monsterfucker???? Idk i vibe with that single emotion. Everything else is hit or miss. 7/10 for monsters and cool concept, lost points for the MC very pointedly being okay with admitting he'd wait for the teenagers to be adults tho. Creepy af. Could live without that.

Hell's Paradise: I finished the entire 127chps in 3 days and I was really enthusiastic about it 90% of the time thinking about how deep it was and then I actually thought about it and I ended up being very neutral about the whole thing tbh. The art is fantastic tho, but DEFINITELY deserving of the M rating. Tits. Tits everywhere. But not tits to be ecchi over, no, monster hermit tits on beautiful women-ish figures. Now generally I give that a pass but a huge theme in the story is that men and women are "no better than one or the other" but like, lady tits are what you see 99% of the time. Men tits are few and far between. I call bullshit on most of the "deep" themes is what I'm saying, so it's like the mangaka was trying for those deep thoughts but missed the margin a little too far for my preference. That being said, the MC is a married man who loves his wife which automatically makes him my favorite character so like... idk so many good things, so many misses, but overall really spectacular themes and imagery. Unique but classic all at once. It's getting an anime and I have NO IDEA how much censorship they're gonna be doing but they're going to be doing SO MUCH. Oh yeah, and one guy is a plant/human hybrid who fucks a 1000 year old plant-hermit which makes him a canon monster fucker. And one canon non-binary character who I, a nonbinary, actually like. So like... gosh I've got mixed feelings. 8.5/10.

Choujin X: From Sui Ishida, mangaka to the mega hit Tokyo Ghoul comes this brand new manga!... Of one chapter, lol. Not really binge-y because it's just the one chapter out right now but I'm already keeping my eye on it. The grasp on anatomy in the art is PHENOMENAL and you can see Ishida flexing his art skill which is great. Can't give a true rating but I'm giving it a tentative 9/10 because I'm excited to see more.

Shag&Scoob: technically not a manga, its an ongoing webcomic I binged an subscribed to in one day and I just think it deserves more attention. Starts off funny with "what if Scooby Doo had a gun" and has been led to "what if all cartoons are aliens that survive and receive their powers by the humans that love them in an epic war with Martians." On god, its good. I finished the current series in a couple hours so it's a breezy read, highly recommend it. 9/10.

To Your Eternity: Yeah I watched the anime and then finished all current 143 chapters in like 3 days. GOD IM WEAK. I don't buy physical manga unless I know I want to remember the story forever and I'm already budgeting for the current books out. Yeah, this is a good series. That being said, definitely not for the faint of heart or those who suffer under common triggers like suicide, molestation, death, etc. It's all framed as bad and necessary to the story don't get me wrong, but it's there and has lasting affects on the characters. Incredible story telling by the creator of A Silent Voice. Keep tissues nearby at all times. 12/10.

#i've been killing slimes for 300 years and maxed out my level #don't toy with me miss nagatoro #spirit photographer saburo kono #fruits basket #deranged detective ron kamonohashi #yugen's all-ghoul's homeroom #monster girl doctor #so i'm a spider so what #somali and the forest spirit #to your eternity #jigokuraku #hell's paradise #choujin x #shag and scoob #toilet bound hanako kun #prison school #sk8 the infinity #that time i got reincarnated as a slime

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angelkurenai · 4 years

Text

Worth it - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Title: Worth it

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: hey, do you write for sebastian stan? because if so, here’s my request: sebastian say on a talk show that he have a crush on a singer and would love to meet her, and her manager contact him to be in her new music video! if you decides to write it, thank you x

“Speaking of- of fans and how passionate they can get about something, I think we can all agree that when it comes to finding things, no matter how hidden, they're masters at it, right?” Conan asked, pausing for a moment as the audience cheered and clapped, he looked at Sebastian who nodded his head with a small laugh “Like, the FBI should just fire all their staff and hire fans because they put even Sherlock Holmes to shame!”

“You can't hide a single thing, if it's out on the net.” he said “And they're fast too! Sometimes I have to spend hours looking for the most simple thing, like a good recipe for pasta, and you'll see them dig up tweets from ten years ago in five minutes!”

“I know right?” Conan laughed a bit “I mean, personally I don't mind to be honest. But it's like, before you know it,videos of you from the '90s come up on your feed again and the naked pictures you took in the 2000s reposted again for everyone to admire your-” but he stopped, giving a look to the audience who cheered a little bit too loudly, some even laughing “Oh you sick per- I didn't mean that!”

“You-” Sebastian tried to hold his laughter, frowning as if to look more serious “You're talking about yourself here right?”

“I-” Conan stifled a laugh “Well, yeah. I usually embarrass myself and not the guest unless you have something to share with us now Sebastian.”

“I-” Sebastian cleared his throat, shaking his head “No, I'm good. I think I'm good, no need to give Mackie more info. Although I feel like after this interview-” he couldn't help but crack a smile “My social media accounts will be... attacked to say the least. Who knows what they'll dig up.”

“Now that you've mentioned it, well technically I did but it's easier to blame you because I can't lower myself any further than I already have in this show-” Conan pause, once more narrowing his eyes at the audience who laughed “Whose side are you on?” he shook his head dramatically “Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, remembering our sinful pasts.” that earned more laughter from both the audience and Sebastian “And speaking of that, I wanted to tell you, that there is this account that's called “Sebastian Stan doing things.” are you aware of that?”

“I mean, yeah, it's called my life.” he said with a small smile, earning a chuckle.

“There are accounts like this for other celebrities and while we were going through this account we noticed one major difference from the other ones: It was filled with posts of you that were actually very rare. According of course to the comments because it's not like we stalk you or your social media or anything. I definitely don't have posters of you shirtless around my room or anything.” Conan scoffed, shrugging casually and earning more laughter, continuing after a couple seconds “But there was this particular video of an interview of you and during that interview you got to talk about uhm your favorite singer...?”

It ended mostly as a question only meant to ask Sebastian in a way if he remembered it. It certainly didn't take more than half a second before the man was laughing in embarrassment, head hanging low as he could feel the nervousness settling in. Maybe he couldn't remember the entire interview per se so he couldn't remember if it was as embarrassing as he feared – not that he had much hope, he had been told plenty of times by his friends that he lost control when it came to you and his obvious admiration for you – but that didn't mean that this one wasn't going to be. If anything he was 100% sure that this one would be even worse. But he nodded his head anyway and spoke.

“I uhm. Yes, yes I think I know which one you're talking about.” he said, finally looking Conan in the eyes.

“Well-” the man couldn't hold back a laugh at the silent plea in Sebastian's eyes to not speak up further because it honestly was too funny and in the end spoke again “It's good thing, really, because I was watching it and I have to say this, that I realised early on, you are a big (Y/n) fan, aren't you?”

“I'm... somewhat.” Sebastian cleared his throat and avoided eye-contact only because he knew that was a big fat lie that anyone could see right through.

“Somewhat? Alright, let's- How about we take a look at a small clip of the entire thing, yes?”

“So the Grammys happened last night and you guys didn't mis on the opportunity to do a live. Anthony let me tell you that Beyonce can't compare to you.” the interviewer looked at Anthony and Sebastian who laughed “You singing along to her will forever be remembered. Just like Sebastian's own mini concert. One we didn't really expect, to be honest, because you seemed to know the lyrics real well. Given that it is (Y/n)'s newest song. I wonder, is there even a moment you hesitated?”

“Oh sister you've seen nothing. The real question should be: Is that how you're on a daily basis? And I'll tell you, calmly: Fucking hell no! He doesn't shut up about (Y/n) or how amazing she is, how funny and how sweet, how great of an artist she is or even singing her songs!”

“I'm not... that bad. It's not like- I mean it is mostly the shower!” Sebastian defended himself “And besides that, she isan incredible artist! She puts her heart and soul into every song and, come on, you saw her performance too! (Y/n) nailed it and she was worth every grammy and every win of last night.”

“The neighbors ain't gonna think so, though.” Anthony muttered “very time she won, you'd hear Sebastian nearly screaming 'Yes!' at the top of his lungs. Don't deny it, don't! Just don't even try to, I have proof and I'm sure the entire neighborhood will come to as witnesses to the court.E”

“Is that so? Well, interesting to know. See, I was actually going to ask you Sebastian: what was the most say memorable moment and, say, your favorite one but I'm guessing it's-”

“(Y/n)” he laughed a bit shyly after his too-fast-and-honest response “I mean-” he shrugged a bit “(Y/n) is simply, how can I say it, (Y/n). And she's incredible, it's impossible to not be in awe and not to admire the woman simply for who she is and for how wonderful she is as a singer too. She manages to make people, me included, feel so many things with the way she sings, her words and voice could just as easily be out of this world. And it's not just her voice, there is all this raw emotion coming out on her face, in her eyes, as she sings that you can't help but feel it too as you get pulled in. I mean, even her videos can leave you speechless, easily compared to some of the greatest movies I've seen. I swear I've cried more times during her songs and videos than I have ever before in my life. She's got this-”

“Friendly advice: Stop him here, he could go on for hours. He has done it before!” Anthony warned.

The interviewer laughed and nodded her head “Noted. So Sebastian, I'm taking it you could also say you're a fan then?”

“I'm-” he looked carefully at the camera “... Maybe? Well, yes, obviously yes. Alright.” he ended up adding after a good few seconds of silence “Gosh I know that if this ever gets out on the net, I'm not gonna hear the end of it from my friends.”

“I might be playing a dangerous game here but, may I ask why?”

“And that-” Conan paused for a moment to let the crowd applaud “Is only the beginning. We don't have much time but the interview kept on for much longer, yes? And you get to talk about her and your admiration for much much longer, correct?”

“Yes.” Sebastian cleared his throat nervously “That would be the case, yes. See although we were also talking about the movie too, she was mentioned many times because it was relevant to the topic.”

“Yes, for you. Because, and I say again I've watched the whole thing, Anthony was speaking about the movie too but he didn't bring her up every 5 seconds.” he looked him dead serious in the eyes, which earned a nervous awkward laugh from Sebastian and laughter from the audience.

“Come on man, it-” he chuckled, head ducking almost shyly “I wasn't' that bad. Just give me a break.”

“But I'm not even exaggerating here! People will think that just because I'm a drama queen that I'm somehow making things up but, and the video is up now on channel for you to watch, I'm completely serious. Do you- See you spoke a lot about her and clearly had a lot to say about her, we don't blame you. Who can? (Y/n) is indeed incredible and an amazing singer. But do you know how many times you said her name for real?”

“Uhm.... no?” he asked slowly “I- I think it was plenty of times because I'm a big fan, I can't help it-”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Conan teased him, unable to hold his laughter “I would have never guessed!”

“Come on man. Stop it.” he said but only in a low voice, the awkwardness and embarrassment growing with each minute passing by. He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck “I mean-” he dared look Conan in the eyes “There are so many fans of hers worldwide, why embarrass me out of all of them the most?”

“You are our guest tonight though.” Conan chuckled “If anything, I'm pretty sure Anthony said at some in the interview – and you should all go ahead and watch it- that you are more than just a fan. He went s far as to say that she's your celebrity crush. No?”

“I-” he started but cleared his throat, shifting in his seat and look at him with a tight smile.

“And the fact is also verified by Chris Evans in another interview, which our amazing staff found. That one by chance, mostly, but it was well worth it.”

“By chance. I'm starting to believe both Mackie and Evans pushed those videos forward to you or something.”

“We shall forever wonder.” Conan chuckled “But besides that, crush or not – a question you skillfully voided answering – you are quite the fan. Yet you don't know how many times you mentioned her, at all?”

“No, no of course I didn't keep track. Seriously I have no idea.”

“Really? Because, Sebastian, you said her name 18 times.” he paused only for two seconds to let the crowd cheer and applaud while Sebastian laughed even more nervously than before “Like, I kid you not, I counted. I even made the rest of the staff count. It was 18 times. In just one interview. What do you have to say about that?”

“Well... I might be a really big fan?” he suggested slowly and with a smile that could only be described as awkwardly cute but it did the job of making the crowd laugh.

“You might Sebastian. You might.” Conan laughed “But seeit surprises me that, you are a celebrity yourself, you're well-known and famous and really successful and despite having all that and despite being such a big fan, despite admiring her for years, you have yet to meet her, correct?”

“Well, seeing how I am still alive, I have not met her yet no. Though, as everyone that knows me is already well aware of, I'd really love to one day. Will I survive to tell the story? Probably no, but it will be worth it.”

Was it worth it though?

He kept asking the same question to himself over and over again ever since he got the phone call from his manager. And with it being two days now and the interview having been three days now, he couldn't help but feel like this was not real. It could not be, he had to be dreaming and yet try as he might to wake himself up he couldn't do anything about it. Maybe the way his stomach was tied in knots and his heart was beating so hard and fast, threatening to break free from his ribcage, and the way his mind felt so lightweight as if he couldn't even think straight was enough proof that this was very much real as much as it was a torture. A torture to feel all of that, a torture to wait, a torture to watch the minutes tick by without any news and in a maddening silence of a small room, a torture to feel this anticipation without a result with each passing second. It was all of that that made him wonder if it was worth it.

And all of that that answered the question as well. He was probably being overdramatic but even if it were for him to not survive meeting you, it would all have been well worth it.

It was all well worth it indeed, and even more than he imagined, when the door was pushed opened and the first thing he saw was your sparkling eyes, almost widening at first, and the beautiful albeit shy and nervous smile that got only bigger when you saw him.

It was all well worth it when you spoke to him, voice low and soft, sweet as honey “Oh gosh, I can't believe this is happening. I'm-” it was all well worth it when you laughed sheepishly “Hello, it's great to meet you at last! I'm (Y/n).”

It was all well worth it when he reached for your hand and took it in his with murmured words of his own and a smile that made his cheeks hurts. It was all well worth it when he felt that skip in his heartbeat.

#sebastian #sebastian stan #sebastian imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x reader #seastian fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian one shot #sebastian stan one shot #anthony mackie #chris evans

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wwwafflewrites · 4 years

Text

Of Daydreams and Realities

Chapter 3: KAZ 2Y5

You came to around dusk, the day succumbing to its dying sunset. The sky was dark. You were flat on your back, with grains of gravel and concrete woven into the fabric of your shirt.

Two feet from your face was a dumpster, with squatting grey legs and a wide green base, smelling of rotten produce. You used its side as leverage to stand, raising your eyebrows as blood rushed away from your head and your vision went dark. And after a moment of patience, you found your balance.

You meandered some. Based upon your rough deductions, you had landed smack in the middle of nowhere, next to a rickety gas station.

You peaked around the faded building and confirm your suspicions, eyeing the few cars littering the lot. And one just so happened to fit your fancy. "Woah, sweet car," you mumbled as you neared the vehicle, admiring it's subtle beauty. It was a 1967 Chevy Impala. The hood was sleek and glossy, the headlights were... oh.

KAZ 2Y5.

Oh.

You stared. This has to be a joke, denial immediately kicked in. You just continued to stare at the license plate. Your hands shook—and jeez, your anxiety just wouldn't chill already—so you steadied them on the hood of the car, leaning in as you processed it all.

Looks like we're in Kansas, Toto.

You heard the bell of the gas station's door sing and you booked it. Past the road was a forest of thick vegetation, and if you could just lose them in there…

They probably think I stole something.

You could hear them behind you. So you pumped your arms and pushed your limits. This was life or death. Nobody touched Dean's Baby. Especially not you.

You made it to the ditch, and just as you were about to throw yourself into the trees, your collar snapped back. You collapsed in a pile of coughs and heavy breathing as more arms pinned you from above. Dean was literally straddling your waist and Sam was pinning you to the wet grass.

Naturally, you began to cry. You were just overwhelmed, but it was humiliating. However, all you could think of was that nightmare you had had of them. Dying once was enough.

I'm going to die.

For a moment, everyone caught their breath, yours hitched as you cried silently.

The hunters shared looks. They're agreeing to kill you. "Wait," you gasp, "just wait, please, I'm sorry."

Sam tilts his head a bit, his expression unreadable. "Sorry for what?"

"F-fo-for-"

Dean snapped, "For what? And what's with the crybaby act?"

His anger only made you frantic, wiggling underneath him. "Please don't kill me," you sob, hiding your face with you hand and cowering. You're twenty-two years old, get a hold of yourself.

"Well, do you deserve to be killed?" Dean was straight to the point, pinning you harder as you squirmed in fear.

"I d-d-don't think so. I just woke up and saw you..."

"Then why run?" Sam asked.

"Because I know who you are," you say with tear-brimmed eyes, heaving the words, "And now I won't survive this. Not this time. And you-you-you two are not going to help. You'll just make it worse."

At your response, Sam frowned deeper, his expression crinkling in thought. "How about you come with us and explain it all, so we can talk."

You shake your head vigorously, cheeks pink from your breakdown. "Did you not hear me? You'll only make it worse!"

But they've apparently made a silent agreement, hoisting you up and dragging you to the car. Your feet dig into the concrete, trying to find ground, but your toes only skid. "Let go of me!" You scream like a banshee. It's your last and final strategy for escape. Play the victim. "Let go!"

They faltered, but then plowed ahead faster.

A worried but timid employee ran out of the gas station, and the brothers showed their fake badges to the kid, who only nodded in compliance with wide eyes and retreated.

"Don't believe it! They are not cops! It's a fake!" You shrieked, but there was no use.

You attempted to kick Dean where it hurt, but he completely blocked the move by shoving you into the back seat face first and slamming the door. You were forced to readjust in the awkward position, and by the time you had, the doors were locked and the brothers were both in the vehicle.

"If you kick the windows you're going in the trunk," Dean warned, but you weren't even thinking about it. You'd be dead before you lifted your feet.

Dead, dead, dead.

A new panic rose as you pictured all the ways you could painfully die. You could only imagine all the djinns, the witches, the wendigos, the kahn worms, and all other creatures that could easily overpower you. "I'm going to die," was all you could say, terrified. Your lungs heaved, and you planted your face in your palms. Just don't think about it… just forget it… just forget…

A hand landed on your shoulder and you looked up to Sam, who looked so young. "Just tell us what's going on so we can help you."

Angry and afraid, you lash out. "You kidnapped me, that's what. You're making it worse. And you can't help me."

"You'd be surprised by how often we hear that."

"No, I wouldn't. But this is something you can't help. And if you say 'try us' I will kick your windows out, believe me."

They share another look like they're telepathic. "Did you even have a ride? We were the only people at the station besides the kid."

You froze. You didn't even think about that. "...Yeah. Yeah, I had a ride. I was parked in the back… by the dumpster."

Dean nodded. "Right. By the dumpster we just threw seven vampire heads into? Got it."

Sam looked to his brother in exasperation. "Dean…"

"I know a lie when I hear one." Dean shrugged.

You must have rounded the corner right as they disposed of the decapitated heads and bodies. How convenient. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. We almost thought you were a vamp too. So, now that we're on the same page, what was that all about?" Dean demanded.

"That was… I'm not a vampire."

"We know. But how did you get here? You don't have a ride, and we're literally in the middle of nowhere."

You pinch your lips for a minute. “You won’t understand.”

“Try u...uh... why not?” Dean said, smooth like crunchy peanut butter.

You glare, raising a hand in a pinching motion, “You are this close to losing a window.”

“Why not? I can guarantee we’ll understand,” Sam said.

“No. You can’t. You won’t.”

There was silence. The hidden try us was infuriating. But you didn’t care anymore. “I know you. I know your history, I know your eating habits, I know your family, your friends, your life. All of it. But you don’t know me.”

There’s a long pause.

“She’s right, Sam, I don’t understand.”

Sam just shakes his head at his brother and turns back to you. “How? Time travel? Alternate dimension?”

You sigh. “Yes? You guys are a TV show where I’m from. And yes, like that one time with Balthazar, but also... no.”

“Explain.”

“I don’t know how to.”

///

Night had crept along rather quickly, and you shifted yet again in your seat. “So have you found…” The bunker, you wanted to say, but you were too exhausted to explain. “Are we headed to a motel, then?”

Dean was the one to respond, as Sam is asleep. “Yeah.”

“Figures,” you mutter.

You end up stopping at The L8 Nite Inn, which, in your opinion, was the most horrendous name in existence.

They herded you about like a lost sheep, roughly pulling your shoulders this way and that. They directed you like you would disappear if they blinked.

In all honesty, you wished you could.

The hotel room was shabby but warm. The brown walls glowed from the soft, yellow lamplight and the curtains were drawn. Eventually, a cot was rolled in, to which you dumped your few salvaged items.

Nervously, you prepared for bed, avoiding all eye contact. These guys were the real deal. Hunters. They hunted demons and witches and ghosts. They had scars. You hadn't thought this through. You hadn't thought any of this through. The next time you woke up in an unfamiliar place, you would not explore. No exploring. You were grounded from exploring.

Huffing, you curled up on the cold sheets, shivering a little.

Looking up, you found the boys staring. Dean immediately reacted. "Woah, wait. There is no way you're sleeping on a cot," Dean says.

You paused. "You guys always take the beds."

They share a look. "Well, I just. You're a g—"

"Girl?"

"—guest." Dean finished. He paused. "Hey! No! I'm not se—hey, nuh uh. Get that out of your head." He let out a sigh before sending a sly smile your way. "What I mean is Sammy here is going to take the cot."

Sam took five full seconds to comprehend what Dean had just said. "What?"

You panicked. No arguments. No matter how good natured. No arguments, please no arguments. "Hey, no, no. I'm cool with a cot. Seriously. It's comfortable."

Dean watched you. "You sure?"

You nodded.

A bit later, the lights went out.

///

You tossed and turned.

If you fell asleep, you could very well wake up in Sherlock. And while you loved the show, you weren't quite ready to be observed by his eyes. You didn't want to hear what you already knew.

This had hardly begun and you had already broken. A raw nervousness had begun to inflate within your stomach—a bloated, unpleasant bubble of anxiety—and you were sure it was steadily growing.

To sleep or not to sleep.

If you sat up very quietly, perhaps the Winchesters would not notice. Maybe you could avoid sleep. Perhaps even escape. If you could escape, you may be able to break this loop.

All you had to do was rise ever-so-slowly without the bed creaking. You dared to sit up.

Creak.

You winced. First the door, now the bed.

You were completely still, listening. Nothing reacted… maybe they didn't notice. You pulled your legs over the side of the bed, biting your lip hard as it let out yet another squeak.

A glance to the Winchesters. Nothing.

You sighed, carefully standing. The door was to your right, just within reach. If you could just tiptoe—

"I wouldn't do that."

You spun around.

Dean was sitting up in his bed, eyeing you. You couldn't read any humor or anger or irritation, but you also weren't great at reading faces.

When you decided to sit back on your cot, he flopped back down. You fumbled with the covers, stalling. You decided that, as much as you would love to, you would not rest your head against the wall.

You couldn't face Sherlock yet. In past dreams, he'd been rather cryptic. But if these new dreams—if they even were dreams, they were so vivid you were convinced they were real—were anything to go by, you would be facing a fully-charged detective very near his flat. With your luck, you’d be stuck in Baker Street, 221B.

And even if you could avoid Sherlock, where would you be off to? An American in London, with no belongings or money to offer? You'd be snuffed out before a week had passed. No, your only hope would be Sherlock. And you really weren't ready for that yet.

"You're not going to get any sleep like that."

You rolled your eyes. Dean was sitting up again, stretching a little. Just sleep, you thought, leave me be. "I'm well aware, thank you."

His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows were drawn up. "If you think you can outlast us, then you're very, very wrong. Do yourself a favor and get some shut eye. You'll appreciate it in the morning."

You shook your head gently. Not knowing what else to add, you replied, "I'm okay."

"...Right," Dean said. "And why won't you sleep?"

Your eyes drooped. You were too tired to have this conversation. "I don't want to face him right now."

Dean stiffened. "Who?" He looked... murderous. You could only assume he was picturing the worst. Why shouldn't he? He was a hunter. He expected it. When you met his stony gaze, you realized you'd definitely said the wrong thing.

You hesitated.

You would regret this. You really really would regret this. But the words fell out of your mouth, anyway.

"Who?" He repeated icily.

"Sherlock Holmes."

#superwholock #supernatural #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor #doctor who #x reader #dean x reader #reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #john watson #fanfiction #fanfic #@jay-bel

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rhythm-catsandwine · 4 years

Text

Bitten

Warning 18 + non con, mentions of rape

Words 4 315

Sam and Dean loved each other more than brothers should. They always had and always will. Neither one was really much more Domont than the other. Dean protected his Sam more than Sam protected his Dean. They switched in the bedroom each day or night. In public Dean was possessive of Sam, and he just went with it.

They had been hunting almost nonstop since the days Chuck killed their son and let all hell break loose. It didn’t turn out like anyone especially the Winchesters expected. At first, there were a lot of demons and all the monsters they had killed over the years, and then some. More hunters emerged in the world. Which helped the Winchesters? Then the real changes started, a strong, and dominant type of werewolf emerged from the shadows. They were very different from the werewolves they were used to fighting. The new type of wolf was made by the archangel Michel. The Winchesters couldn’t figure out how to kill them. The usual way didn’t work; the silver bullets didn’t kill them. The werewolves quickly started taking over the world. They preyed on humans or turned them. Soon society started to change according to the way of the werewolf.

Sam and Dean were tired and had just taken care of several monsters and Demons in the past few weeks. They had gotten from another hunter that needed help on a hunt not too far from the bunker. They were running low on supplies and needed rest. They thought they could handle one last hunt before it was ‘bunker time’ but they were wrong. They pulled up to a huge abandon factory and parked on the edge of the huge parking lot in front. Dean glanced over at Sam.

“You sure this is the right place?” Dean asked

“Yeah, this is the place” replies Sam Sam’s phone vibrated as he got a text. “They said to meet them inside top level. That’s kind of weird don’t you think”

“Our lives are weird, nothing normal about us. We hunt musters and demons. We have a car that’s more like our home. Our best friend is an angel, we had an adopted half-angel son. We told god to go to hell. Plus incest Sam, siblings don’t usually fall in love and fuck each other. So nothing’s weird. Except this new breed of werewolf. You got anything new on them yet?”

“No, but I heard someone has found some lore on them. It’s not much, but it could clue us into how to kill them. I plan on contacting them when we get back to the bunker”

They get out of the Impala and start to walk across the parking lot. They get across and find their way through the factory. Finally, at the top they meet the hunter. He is a tall and big guy, about the size of Sam and Dean. He seemed different, but nether Winchester could put a finger on it.

“So you the hunter that called us?” Dean asks

“Yes, names Damian, and you must be Sam and Dean”

“Uhh yeah that’s us” replied Sam

“So what ya need our help with?” asks Dean

“Actually I don’t really need your help…I thought the hunters need to become the hunted” Damian grows as he turns in to a werewolf. More werewolves come out and start circling the Winchesters.

“Shit, it was a trap,” says Sam as he looks for an escape route.

“No shit Sherlock,” says Dean as he grabs Sam’s hand.

“Run Sammy, we got to run”

Dean shoots at a wolf that backs off enough for them to make a run for it.

“Dean! What the hell! Bullets just wound them, you know that” complains Sam as they run.

“I gotta do somethi…” Sam feels Dean being pulled from his grip. Then the wolves are on him too. Dean screams in pain as Sam glimpses him being bitten form one of the wolves. Then he feels teeth sink into his flesh. The wolves are gone as quick as they appeared.

The Winchesters are left lying on the floor. Dean starts to drag himself over to Sam.

“Sam? Sammy? Baby? Talk to me, you bit too?’

Sam opens his eyes to see Dean lying right in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I got us into this mess” Sam cries

“No, you didn’t the son of a bitch got us both”

“We dyeing De?”

“I don’t know Sammy, I just don’t know, but whatever it is we do it together”

Then they blackout from a wave of pain all over their bodies. They awake hours later face to face with another werewolf. They both realize they’ve been turned. The two new wolves circle and growl and the other. Then they both catch the others sent, and get close enough to see their eyes. They realize that it’s another, their eyes didn’t change color and their sent is mostly the same.

“I realized the wolf I am staring at is Dean. Shit! We’ve been turned in to this new kind of werewolf. Dean’s eyes are the same beautiful green. He smells like Dean too, but little different. His fur is a mix of golden blond and brown but how do we turn back?”

“wait, that wolf is my Sammy, his eyes are still his, he still smells like him too but little Different, He is a beautiful brown, the color of his hair. Fuck he’s big, really big, huge”

“Maybe if we concentrate hard enough we can turn back… I concentrate on becoming human, and I see white as pain shoots through my body. I can feel myself starting to turn back, but it’s like I’m too weak to complete the transformation and there is some kind of block in place. I try again then feel Dean Head but me hard in the shoulder. I feel weak and shaky. Dean looks at me as shakes his head. His eyes and expression say ‘stop, not now’”

“I get Sam to stop trying to turn. Then I press our heads together. He’s bigger than me so he leans down to deepen the touch. I feel soothed by the touch, like when we kiss or hug. I break the connection then start heading back to baby. Sam isn’t following get so I look back and bark at him then turn back. I can hear him following me and soon we are walking side by side close enough to brush against each other”

“We make it back to the impala, we’re both exhausted. Dean jumps carefully on the hood and looks at me. His eyes say ‘get up here bitch’. I jump up on the hood too, being careful not to leave a scratch. We curl up together taking over most of the space on our cloths must have been shredded when we turned. Our wolf forms are bigger than our human form. We are out in the middle of nowhere and its still night. I grab us both a change of clothes out of the trunk and head back to Dean. He has turned back too, so I wake him up.”

“Hey,” says Sam as he tosses his brother a change of clothes.

“You okay Sam?”

“Yeah, you?”

“ sore and still tired as hell”

“let’s just go back to the bunker, I can figure out how to turn us back”

“Yeah okay, but can you drive? I’m too tired”

They drive back to the bunker. Dean sleeps leaning against Sam the entire way. He wakes up when they park in the garage. Finally, back at the bunker, they both fully relax. Sam gets to work on research and Dean makes them some food.

“Um…uhhh Dean…” says Sam as Dean hands him a plate of food.

“What? You find something?”

“Yeah, the way to get unturned is still unknown. And there’s this Alpha/omega/beta dynamic. The omega submits to the alpha. The alpha is the protector and more dominant. All omegas can get pregnant. Since we were turned, we will start presenting during the first week. Then the omega and alpha go into a heat/rut about three months after being turned. The omegas are treated like crap, and the alphas get all the respect and opportunity. The omega needs to be claimed by a bite of an alpha…”

“slow down Sam, so what we stuck like this until we die?”

“looks like it”

“So you think I’m the alpha, and you the omega?”

“I think so, but there’s not much yet about who’s who. Just signs of presenting The alpha is more protective, has increase body temps, possessive, and way stronger than omegas and betas. The omegas are motherly, start nesting, have decreased body temps, and are weaker and usually small”

Sam stats eating and Dean just sets trying to absorb the information he had just received.

“So what happened to that lore book someone was making?”

“I called them and they are going to send me the info sometime this week, even though it's incomplete and in a rough draft”

They finish eating as Sam continued to research. His lips curl up into a slight smile. “So get this! We will get stronger, and have heightened senses, and age slower than humans. The age of adulthood is 50 in the social community. So you know this isn’t all bad”

“so were like kids again, and we can actually have kids”

“This entire thing has me freaked out. What if I’m the alpha and you’re the omega? Or hunters figure out how to kill us and we…”

Dean scoots closer to Sam and puts his hand over Sam’s. “Hey, we’re going to be okay. We’ve both been through a lot worse. Hell and back. And we made ‘us work” comforts Dean.

“It’s just going to be a lot to adjust to. We’ve become one of the things we hunt, and this thing is new to everyone, and taking over the world as we know it”

“Don’t think too hard, you’re just going to make things worse.” Says Dean as he kisses Sam on the cheek.

Dean stands up and runs his hands through his grimy hair. “shower?” he asks Sam

Sam shuts his laptop and follows Dean to the shower. They jerk each other off while letting the water wash everything away. Then go to bed to catch up on some needed sleep.

Then the next day Sam and Dean make a run into town to get supplies and eat at a local diner. They return to their bunker with enough supplies to last a few weeks. They are still waiting for the information from Sam’s contact. So they busied themselves around the bunker. Dean cleans the bunker and their weapons. Sam organizes their food and answers any questions other hunter calls to ask them.

They start to present signs the second day as they continue their work and research. Dean starts feeling cold and puts on his coat, and Sam feels hot and just wears a pair of running shorts. Sam starts to stand a little taller and confident and then hits the workouts harder. Dean had started lifting too, for hunting in the increasingly tough world. He notices he can’t lift as much as he used to, and his aplite dips and weight starts going down.

Sam returns from a run to find Dean wrapped up on the couch. He had several pillows and a few blankets. They looked like they were carefully arranged. “is he nesting?” Sam wanders

The third day they notice their sent changing little. Sam stats to smell muskier and Dean smell softer and sweeter. Then they finally get the information they had been waiting for. Sam starts to read the small lore book.

The first part is mostly information they already figured out or knew. The next part goes over what they needed to know now.

Sam starts reading about the signs and differences on alphas and omegas. He realizes that they were wrong. He was going to be an alpha and Dean his omega. He finds Dean in the kitchen again and hands him the book.

“Dean we…we were wrong about the Alpha you and omega me thing. It gets worse and better.”

“What?”

Dean reads the pages Sam had marked.

“I don’t know Sammy; this is the only stuff we got on … our type of wolf, so it could be wrong.”

“Dean you’ve been nesting and you look smaller. I’ve been feeling more territorial and possessive”

Dean runs his hand through his hair and then grabs his car keys. “Hey let's go out tonight and clear our heads.”

“Dean if you are an omega it’s going to be dangerous for you out there until we mate, er mark.”

“We don’t know that yet, and what’s the worst that could happen?”

They head to Dean's favorite bar in the next town over. Werewolves had taken over the town, so everything felt different. They felt the could fit in but still stood out at the same time.

They park in front of the bar and go in. The business had changed since they were last there. It was divided by alphas and their mated omegas on one side and omegas and betas on the other. Alphas could go anywhere they wanted. Omegas stayed on the omega, beta side unless they were with their alpha. They both try going to the alpha side. Dean is stopped before he can go in by an alpha, not too much smaller than Sam.

“sorry omega you can’t go in unless you're claimed and with your alpha. “ says the alpha male

“I’m not an omega” Snaps Dean

“Yes you are and you need to learn to show alphas respect and submission.”

“He’s with me, he’s mine we just haven’t marked yet” replies Sam

“You can go in, but he can’t unless he’s marked. You two new pups should think about marking soon, so nobody steals your omega” the alpha says

Dean scoffs and goes to the omega/beta side and Sam goes the alpha side to talk to other alphas. Dean orders a drink as he sets at the bar. He tries to clear his head, with a couple of beers. Then an alpha comes up and smells him, looking him over. Dean turns to face him.

“what the hell you doing?’

“a handsome strong omega like you should have been claimed by now”

“Yeah well, I’m with someone. Fuck off asshat” Dean growls

“How dare you show me disrespect,” the alpha says as he leans in closing Dean in. He’s trapped between him and the bar.

Dean suddenly feels like he’s prey to be hunted. He tries to get out but the alpha is too strong and leans closer to him.

“You aren’t claimed, but come home with me and you will be”

“ I told you in with someone, I’m not yours, I’m taken” Dean hisses

The alpha stands taller and Dean can feel his dominance looming over him. The alpha's eyes seem to turn almost golden. Actual fear hits him in the gut hard. He feels violated in the worst way. Dean tries to shove the alpha off. Pushing with all of his strength. “You're almost as strong as some alphas, your gonna make strong pups”

“I said get I’m already taken”

“Listen you stupid omega, you're fertile, and I need another omega, gonna round you out with my pups when you go into heat. Your mine now” the alpha says as he runs his hand down Deans' arm.

“Get off, don’t touch m….SAM! SAM! Dean calls as the alpha gets more aggressive rubbing his scent all over him. His hand runs down Deans back, then moved to places only Sam had touched him.

“Get off of him he’s mine!” Sam growls putting a hand on the alpha and pulling him off, Dean.

Dean lunges toward and clings to Sam. He breathes a sigh of relief when he feels Sam wrap his arms around him.

“So you are with someone! Don’t worry I know when I’ve lost, but you’d better mark quick, other alphas won’t be as agreeable as me.” The alpha backs off.

Sam leads Dean back outside and to the Impala. He removes his hand when they are standing by the car.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dean shakes his head.

“No, I’M A FREAKEN OMEGA SAM! This Alpha/omega shits fucked up. Back there….”

“Dean, talk to me. This is no time to bottle your emotions. We still have a lot of work to do. We need to be on top of everything”

“ I felt so powerless, venerable and … violated….scared even”

Sam pulls a reluctant Dean into a hug. “ Hey, I told you this is hard for me too. You said we can make it through this. Let’s just go to the bunker and forget this ever happened”

“S-sam I need you to mark me.”

“ Dean I…”

“But, don’t think I’m just going to submit to you”

“ I don’t want that either, the whole complete dominance thing is just wrong, but I don’t know how it actually works”

“What did that book say?”

“Not much, but it says something about sex, and a thing called knotting. We can get stuck together for up to an hour. But we don’t have to knot to mark. So maybe we should go back to the bunker”

“ I don’t want to wait Sam”

“Dean, we could be ‘tied’ together. And I don’t think people want to see us having sex in a car in the middle of a parking lot. I think it’ meant to be more private. And omegas secret stuff called slick…”

“I know that part! Let's just pull over somewhere and do this!... when you mean tied together like… your stuck inside of me?”

“ uuhh yeah”

Dean rubs the top of the Impala “as much as I love you and having sex with you, I don’t want to stuck like that in her yet, but I need you to mark me in my baby”

Sam blushes as he steps toward Dean. “ me too Dean she deserves it, she’s our home” Sam puts one hand on either side of Dean, caging him against the Impala. Dean feels safe as he leans up to kiss Sam.

“let's go I remember seeing the perfect spot on the way up here”

They get in and about halfway back Dean pulls off on to an old dirt road and into a small clearing just off the road.

“so as long as you don’t put your dick up my ass we can’t knot right?”

“uhhh, yeah I think so, sounds right, makes sense”

“so just what, grinding with our clothes on, be enough…” says Dean as they climb into the back seat. For once they were glad they hadn't had sex for a few weeks. It would be easier to cum, and hopefully, mark.

They kiss deep and hungry. Dean blushes as he feels slick leak out for the first time. It doesn't feel as weird as he thought it would. They lay down as they have so many times. They had always let everything play out on its own. Unless they were doing something kinky and had a plan of who would top or bottom. This time Dean layed down and Sam chased Him.

“Shit you smell so good, De. Want you. Need you. ” Sam breaths as he starts to grind down on to Dean. He feels Dean rut up against him and blushes when he lets out a deep growl.

“need you, Sammy, please. Need to be….yours” growls Dean as the grinding thrusts get harder.

Sam can feel his first-knot forming. Instinct takes over and he starts nipping at Deans' neck. "mine" Sam growls Dean tilts his head to the side, exposing his unmarked, but scared skin. Sam’s teeth sink smoothly into Dean's flesh. The omega winpers as he feels the bite and his release of cum and more slick.

“sorry” apologize Sam.

“no, it was one of those hurt so good things” utters Dean still in a daze

“Dean, mark me too”

“what?” Dean questions as he snaps back to reality.

“omegas can mark their alpha if the bond is strong enough” Sam states. “Please”

Dean pulls Sam back on top of him and kisses him along the jaw than to the neck. Sam moves his head, gently hitting the back of the seat. Dean still had some energy left as he nipped at the sun tanned skin. He felt his own teeth come out and sink into the flesh. Sam ground down hard once more as he came in his jeans.

They both sat up and stared at the marks they had just given. “Dean just hold still I want to try something, don’t freak out” Sam ordered as he leaned in and started licking the bite mark. The bleeding stopped and a beautiful scare formed. Dean returned the effort.

“So does this mean we’re like married or something?” Dean wondered aloud.

“I guess so”

“But I didn’t even get to propose to you”

“But you kind of did when you asked me to mark you”

Dean blushed and covered his face with his hands and mumbles “Okayfineyouwin”

“let's just get back to the bunker and get cleaned up”

The next day they continue their research on their own kind.

“So get this, we have a telepathic connection now”

“so how the hell does it work?”

“I don’t know, maybe it comes naturally over time, here just read everything we have so far in the book” Sam hand the unfinished book to Dean.

“Whatever”

“I want to cling to you, need your sent to mix with mine,” Dean thinks

“ You still smell like that alpha from last night, I want to rub my scent all over you and show everyone your mine”

“what,” asks Dean

“what I didn’t say anythi…” Starts Sam

“Ohhh,” They both say before closing the gap between them.

“ Sam, what does my sent smell like to you?”

“sweet sent, but in a manly way. Like gun powder, our car, motor oil, beer, whatever you just ate.”

“ How are you doing that so easy?’

“Just concentrate”

“You smell like musk, sweet sweat, old books, and Baby”

They cling together most of the day, at some point, they wind up wearing each other's shirts. Sam keeps randomly hugging Dean and massaging his back. Dean just leans into the touch, even though he normally wouldn’t let Sam take care of him in that way. They practiced turning in to their wolf form and back again.

The rest of the week Dean notice his strength coming back. They both started craving meat and to hunt like wolves. Sam started talking to other alphas to get more information. He found that most were not as predatorial as the alpha at the bar. Much to Dean's annoyment, he learned to stay near Sam at all times in public. If he didn’t he couldn’t go to very many places alone. Truthfully he didn’t want to after the bigger/aggressive alphas kept eying him like a prize to be won or stolen.

They both noticed Dean was built like an alpha and could put up a fight against a smaller weaker alpha. Hunting got better due to their heightened senses.

Over time they got used to the slight change in the dynamic in their relationship. Dean still protected Sam. Sam protected Dean more.

They had just sat down at a diner to eat dinner after a hunt. They fell into a new routine when in a public setting. They would set in the same seat, with Dean on the inside and Sam on the outside.

An alpha glanced at Dean hungrily, but Sam put his arm around Dean.

“Why the fucking hell does everyone keep looking at me like that. We already marked!” “Dean your big and strong for an omega. Your really ‘pretty’ to. Smart and can fight. And apparently ‘very fertile’. You're highly sought-after. I think this should stop after your first heat or we …. Have pups. It’s whichever comes second. “

“ But we can’t have kids right now, still too many monsters and shit loose from fuck Chuck.”

“I know Dean, but we have to get more supplies today, your first heat will start next week. I know you don’t like it but you’ll have to stay in the bucker”

“Shut up, I know that already”

“Dean, do you want pups …. I mean at least someday when things die down a bit?”

Dean started eating the food at their table. He sighed “idontknow”

“Dean?” Sam used his alpha voice only when he really had too on Dean. His eyes turned more golden as he glared at his omega.

“yes, I want them now, but the world is too dangerous…and ….What the fuck did you just use your alpha voice on me?”

“Sorry, I wouldn’t if you stopped lying or keeping things from me. And maybe we can get Cass to help”

Dean thought as they both ate. “ yeah let's talk to Cass, wait do you want pups too? “

“Yeah, I kind of do Dean”

Castiel agreed to help the Winchester. They decided to hunt a little less. They would be like the new Bobby for other hunters. They eventually hunt down and kill the pack that turned them. They made it quick as a thank you for their new life. They had grown to love their new life and it's perks (better sex, and senses, and increased strength. plus the ability to have a real family).

They created a small pack and hunted prey and the supernatural together. Cass was like an unofficial member of the pack and helped the pack as much as he could. He was uncle Cass to all of their pups.

#wincest #My werewolf universe #werewolves #non con #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omega!deanalpha!Sam #omega!dean #alpha!sam #netaelex32

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seehowsupplethespineis · 4 years

Text

19th Century Literary Misfits Go Vampire Hunting Because Van Helsing Said So

(Yeah, I wrote more. I can’t help it! There’s so much potential in their individual stories for wacky crossovers! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, my fellow 19th century literature nerds! If you want to know what this is all about, here’s the first story and the companion piece to that.)

(Characters include Van Helsing from Dracula, Moreau from The Island of Doctor Moreau, Griffin from The Invisible Man, Frankenstein from Frankenstein, Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hyde from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moriarty from one of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment.)

(Note: When you see “<...>,” someone’s speaking Russian.)

(Warnings: Blood, violence, killing (not of a human), mentions of murdering innocents, nudity (Griffin gets naked but he’s, you know, invisible...))

A breeze swept through the night air, stirring the branches of nearby trees and causing old buildings to groan. Mist shrouded the city and dampened the ground, hanging on dew laden leaves. Every noise seemed mysterious and alien. A soft clicking joined the night sounds. It intensified as the cold winds brushed past an unseen shape, sending the coat it wore waving.

“C-Can we go b-back now?” The clicking stopped momentarily as a disgruntled voice arose. The arms of the coat wrapped themselves tightly about the invisible shape.

“Not yet, Griffin,” Van Helsing said, not taking his eyes from the open patch of ground in front of them where a lone man stood, “She’ll be here any moment.”

“Then c-can I go back?” The invisible man’s teeth chattered even harder.

“No, your invisibility may be of use to us.”

“For what? You s-said these things can smell blood!”

“You may still surprise her.”

“You only let me w-wear a coat! I’m freezing! And besides, w-we brought H-Hyde for all that fighting n-nonsense!”

Hyde lay concealed beside them. He looked up as they mentioned his name, “Is she here?” he asked excitedly.

“Not yet, but soon.” Van Helsing assured.

Hyde bounced up and down where he crouched, a devilish smile plastered to his face. When Van Helsing had enlisted his housemates’ aid in taking down one of the blood-sucking monsters he always went on about, Hyde had been the first to volunteer. Everyone had ended up going, though, under threat of eviction.

Moreau was the only one who’d also wanted to come; a being that could turn from human to bat was most certainly one he wished to study. The vivisectionist peeked with rapt attention out from behind the bushes they were concealed in.

Van Helsing had asked for a volunteer beforehand to lure the “vampire,” as he called it, in. Frankenstein had shrugged and offered himself as bait. For once, everyone was glad of the scientist’s morose attitude.

“What have I got to lose?” he’d said before trekking out into the open.

Now they all lay in wait. The vampire had been seen in this part of town over the past few days, so there was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t strike again tonight.

Moriarty sat further back from the rest, a blanket he’d brought keeping him from touching the filthy ground, “How much longer must we wait for an imaginary phantom?” he sighed, resting his hands primly on his knees.

Van Helsing turned to glare at him, “It is not imaginary. I have seen plenty of vampires in my time. We must deal with it before it has the chance to move on and turn some poor soul into one of its kind.”

“Let me get this straight,” Gray spoke up with a yawn, “some lady dies from, and I’m quoting you, ‘being drained of her blood by a bat each night,’ which means she must have become one of these vampires when she died, so we’ve got to reel her in, stake her heart, chop off her head, and stuff it with garlic?”

“Yes,” Van Helsing nodded, then froze, “Where is the garlic necklace I gave you?”

“I threw it into an alley somewhere back there,” Gray pointed vaguely back the way they came, “It smelled awful.”

“That garlic could very well have saved your life!” Van Helsing exclaimed angrily, “Now you have no protection!”

“We need no protection from phantasms, professor.” Moriarty scoffed.

Van Helsing glanced at him and sagged, “I see you got rid of your necklace as well!”

“I tossed it aside before Mr Gray did.”

The old man sighed in deep irritation and squinted into the shadows to the left of him, “<Rodion Romanovich, please tell me you kept your garlic.>”

Raskolnikov held the chain of vegetables up into the moonlight for Van Helsing to see. The old man sighed in relief.

“Dr Moreau? Did you dispose of your garlic?”

“No! I’m not an idiot like these two!” the vivisectionist shook his head, “I actually read up on vampires.”

So saying, he shook the garlic around his neck and returned to keeping watch.

Hyde looked at them all with surprise, “How come you guys didn’t eat yours?”

Everyone turned to stare at the crouched man, noting the cloves that had spilled on the ground around him and the empty twine still draped over his neck.

“You… ate yours?” Van Helsing said slowly with an eerie calmness belying his fury.

“Sure did!” Hyde affirmed, grinning.

The coat lying beside him jerked away suddenly, “Yeah, he did! I can smell it in his breath.”

“What’s the matter, air head?” Hyde asked, “Not a fan of garlic?”

He breathed out in Griffin’s direction and the scientist sputtered and crawled away, making Hyde giggle maniacally.

The invisible man gave an angry sigh and threw aside the garlic necklace around his neck, “Forget this! I’m going home!”

“You can’t! She might catch you!” Van Helsing protested.

“Anything’s better than this idiot!” Griffin said and stood to his full height.

Suddenly a pale woman was leaping from out of nowhere and tackling the unsuspecting scientist. Griffin fell to the ground with a cry of alarm and rolled out from the bushes.

“It’s the vampire!” Van Helsing had jumped to his feet the second he saw the creature descending and raised his stake of wood, “Attack!”

The vampire looked up as she saw there were others with Griffin. She dragged him back and lifted him by his coat. Confusion flashed across her face as she found no evidence of a neck.

This brief hesitation was all Hyde needed to spring on top of her, eliciting a surprised screech. Griffin shrugged out of his coat as her hold slackened and stumbled away, his trail marked by imprints in the damp grass.

Moreau and Raskolnikov followed Van Helsing’s lead while Gray and Moriarty hung back, utterly flabbergasted by the events unfolding before them. Then they were both diving for the remnants of garlic Hyde had left behind.

Frankenstein turned around as he heard the sounds of struggle behind him, to see Van Helsing, Hyde, and Moreau confronting a pallid woman of unearthly beauty who was snarling viciously. Raskolnikov dashed up, withdrawing his ax from a loop in his coat, once again holding it the wrong way. The vampire threw Hyde to the side just as Raskolnikov neared and pounced on the Russian, sending his ax tumbling into the short grass. Frankenstein snapped out of his daze and sprinted forward just as Van Helsing leveled his stake at the monster and Moreau lunged with another stake in hand.

Then the woman was changing, her limbs shrinking, ears growing, wings extending.

“She’s turning into a bat!” Van Helsing shouted as the vampire started to take flight, hissing at the garlic around Raskolnikov’s neck.

“Incredible!” Moreau cried, dropping his stake, eyes alight with joy as he watched the vampire ascend, “She’s marvelous!”

“Not now, Doctor!” Van Helsing yelled, though the situation was already well in hand.

Hyde hadn’t wasted a second and launched himself right off the ground. He grabbed the vampire by her wings and she shrieked in anger as they began to descend. The two landed with a crash back in the bushes. Moriarty and Gray scattered immediately with what little garlic they had collected.

The vampire rounded on Hyde and dove for his neck. Hyde opened his mouth and let out a long exhale right into her furry face. She choked and shrank away with a small scream, giving Van Helsing enough time to race over and stab the beast straight through its small chest. The screaming stopped instantly.

“<Quick, Rodion Romanovich!>” At the old man’s summons, Raskolnikov rolled to his feet, retrieved his ax, and brought it down on the bat’s neck, narrowly missing Hyde’s hand. Frankenstein proceeded to grab up the garlic still around the Russian’s neck and shove it into the severed head. Then they all sat back and stared.

Moreau pushed past them and knelt by the creature. He ran a finger along its limp wing.

He looked up after a few moments, “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! To change from human to bat like that is… wow! I need to study the body!”

Van Helsing gestured tiredly, “Be my guest.”

Moreau gave a small, almost childish squeal and gathered up the vampire pieces.

“I agree with with the doc!” Hyde said. He had twigs stuck in his long hair and scratches across his face, though none of it detracted from his smile of triumph, “Let’s do that again!”

“Where’d everyone else go?” Frankenstein interrupted, glancing around.

“They all ran off, apparently.” Van Helsing replied.

“Not everyone.” The four gathered all looked about them, seeing no one.

The discarded coat lifted itself off the ground and slowly filled out as Griffin put it back on. “I’d yell at you for nearly getting me killed or vampire-ized but I’m freezing c-cold so can we go home now?”

“Yes, Griffin, we can go home.” Van Helsing said and struggled to stand up from the grass he was seated in. Raskolnikov bounced to his feet and offered a hand. Smiling, the professor accepted the help.

The six of them trudged back to their house. Only Moreau seemed to have a spring in his step, eager to return to his lab. Frankenstein glanced over the other scientist’s shoulder, clearly interested. He forcefully drew his gaze away, though; he felt tremendous guilt any time he had any sort of scientific curiosity and wouldn’t tell anyone why.

Van Helsing glanced at the ax in Raskolnikov’s grip, “<That ax of yours has been handy to us on more than one occasion, but I must ask, why do you have it?>”

Raskolnikov was suddenly very pale. His shoulders tensed and he lowered his gaze, then lifted it with new resolve and a wan smile, “<You never know when you might need it.>”

Van Helsing nodded, “<Right.>”

Raskolnikov gave a small, spasmodic laugh and hurried forward.

They met up with Moriarty and Gray back at the house. Both tried to appear calm and collected, though there was obvious fear in their eyes.

“You, er, disposed of it, then?” Moriarty asked, eyeing the dead bat spilling blood on Moreau’s hands.

“Yeah, now move!” Griffin shoved past the professor and threw himself beside the fireplace, flinging his damp coat away.

“Do you believe me now, gentlemen?” Van Helsing asked, just a touch smugly.

“Guess so…” Gray murmured.

Moriarty shifted uneasily, “In light of the new evidence, it would be foolish to say no.”

Moreau sprinted past them and up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. Frankenstein watched wistfully after him and walked slowly to his own quarters. Moriarty and Gray made hasty excuses and retired. Raskolnikov seemed to have suddenly become ill and moved jerkily to his room, bidding a faint “<Good night>” as he left.

Hyde brushed off his hat and moved back toward the door, “Well, I’m off! The night is young and there’s a whole world of mischief to explore!”

“Please don’t kill anyone!” Van Helsing implored, “It’s getting harder to calm the mobs!”

“Don’t you worry your big head, professor! I won’t kill anyone-”

“Thank-”

“-important.”

“What?”

“Maybe some homeless vagabond or lowly shop owner. Or perhaps a baby! Just kidding! I’m not that much of a monster. Or am I? I’ll see when I get there!”

He threw open the door and started hopping away before Van Helsing could protest, “See ya tomorrow maybe!”

Van Helsing heaved a deep sigh, “Please be Jekyll tomorrow…”

“He’s usually Jekyll in the daytime so I wouldn’t worry.”

Van Helsing jumped and spun toward the fireplace, “Oh, Griffin! I didn’t…” he trailed off.

There was a short pause before Griffin spoke again, in a quiet, intense voice.

“Didn’t what?”

Van Helsing glanced sheepishly at the floor.

“Say it.” Griffin prompted.

Van Helsing looked up to where he figured the voice had come from, “... see you.”

“That’s what I thought.” There was a shuffling as Griffin got to his feet, “Good night.”

Van Helsing winced, berating himself for his slip up. The stairs creaked as Griffin went up them, leaving the professor alone. Or maybe not; Griffin was known to pretend to go upstairs only to remain on the first floor to spy on everyone else.

With that thought in mind, Van Helsing shivered and retreated to the study for some reading before bed, closing the door behind him.

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sophiaholmes221b · 4 years

Text

Sophia Holmes and the Study in Pink

Chapter Eight

I stand on the stairs for a few seconds, wiping away the tears until I hear the door slam shut downstairs, then I go back into the living room and try to look as emotionless as usual.

"He'll be back in a minute," I say casually, and I'm pleased to hear that my voice has stayed level. John nods from his seat in front of the laptop.

"Any idea what's up?" Lestrade asks, and I shrug.

"He's just gone somewhere quiet so that he can think."

"Okay, well I'll try ringing the mobile, and maybe we can find the phone from there," John says, and I nod, not really paying any attention.

Outside, I can hear the cab pull away and I know dad is inside it.

John hears it as well and looks out of the window. "He just got in a cab," he tells Lestrade. "It's Sherlock. He just drove off in a cab."

Donovon tuts in irritation as walks to join Lestrade. "I told you, he does that," she says to John. "He bloody left again." She walks back into the kitchen, shouting orders, but I block her out, too worried as I look out the window to reply.

'Caring is not an advantage', as I've been told many times by dear Mycroft, but I can't help it. He cares about my dad, so I should be allowed too.

"I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out," John says to Lestrade. I listen for the ring, but I can't hear anything.

"If it's ringing, it's not here," Lestrade says as John lowers his phone and reaches for the computer.

"I'll try the search again." John says firmly.

"Does it matter?" Donovon asks Lestrade, coming over to confront him. "Does any of it? You know, he's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time."

I let another tear slip down as she criticises him, but I wipe it away as Lestrade sighs. "Okay, everybody. Done 'ere." As his officers pack up and gradually leave, Lestrade turns to me. "Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?"

"I told you: he just needed to go somewhere quiet to think. He probably solved the case while he was down there and left to chase down our killer; you know what he's like."

"I've known him for five years and no, I don't."

"So why do you put up with him?" John asks.

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." He walks to the door and turns back around. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one." I laugh half-heartedly, and Lestrade sends me a pitying look. "Call me if you need me, yeah?"

As I nod, he turns and leaves John and I sitting quietly together, just staring at the screen of dad's laptop as the clock ticks away.

"What is up with your dad, Sophia?" John asks me after a moment. I bite my lip, unsure whether or not to tell him. "Come on, you need to tell me if you know something."

"That taxi we were chasing earlier ..." I trail off, looking out of the window as I feel the tears welling up again.

John looks at me, a comforting look in his eyes. "Yeah, what about it?"

I clear my throat and look back at him. "The cabbie: he's the murderer, and dad's just gone off with him." John sits back, his eyebrows drawn in a mixture of surprise and worry. looking surprised and worried. "I tried to stop him..." I choke on my tears and turn away.

John places a comforting hand on my shoulder and bites his lip, unsure of what to do. "Don't you know where he's going?" I shake my head and wipe away the tears. "Well ..." he trails off, looking around the room for inspiration, "... we could always try and track the cab - I still have the number."

I nod, hopelessly. It's not going to work, but it's worth a try and it'll keep me occupied. With a final swipe, I wipe the tears away and head downstairs for my coat. John comes down a few minutes later, clutching dad's laptop and looking triumphant.

"Found it?" I ask, all emotion cleared from my voice again.

He nods. "Yeah, he's still on the move."

"Then his murder spot will be quite far out. Where's he at the moment?"

John shrugs and I lead him out onto the street, hailing a taxi as it sails down the road.

"Where to, Miss?" he calls.

"I don't actually know!" I titter falsely. "I lost my phone and it's giving me directions on where to find it. Do you think you could take us there, please?"

The cabbie smiles kindly at me. "Yeah, sure, love. I've got nothing else -"

"Lovely," I say, cutting off his rambling and getting in. John sits in beside me and starts giving the cabbie directions on where to go.

John gets onto the phone to Scotland Yard as soon as we pull out of Baker Street. "Yeah, hi, I need to speak to Detective Inspector Lestrade," John says, pausing to hear their reply as they try and divert the call. "No, Detective Inspector Lestrade. I need to speak to him. It's important. It's an emergency!" John looks down at the laptop as it shows the next turning coming up. "Er, left here, please. Left here." A million possibilities fill my busy mind of where dad could be as we continue down the road. "Good, yeah, I'll ... I'll see you then."

***

Almost half an hour later, the taxi comes to a stop outside Roland-Kerr College and we file out, barely taking the time to thank the driver and pass him a few notes before we head towards the college.

John groans as he sees the two, identical buildings, but this is definitely the place - the other cab is still here outside.

Tucking the laptop inside his jacket, he turns to me. "Which one?"

"I can't tell," I say truthfully. "You take the left one, I'll go right."

John looks hesitant. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

I roll my eyes and tap my pocket, showing him the outline of my gun. John grimaces but I can see a similar outline in the pocket of his jeans, so he gives me a nod and I head off towards the building.

My entire world in a haze of worry and panic as I sprint through the building, peering frantically through the windows to try and find dad. I couldn't bear to think of what would happen if I didn't get to him in time. What would happen to me? Where would I go? I can't lose him as well as mother and I can't live with John - we only met this afternoon. All that matters to me now is finding dad before it's too late.

"Sherlock?" I call loudly as I run. "Sherlock!"

He must be somewhere here. I race up a flight of stairs, and head left down a corridor and through another door. I hear a gunshot, and I know I'm too late. My heartbeat quickens, but my muscles stop, and I feel like I've been winded.

He's gone.

I wipe the tears furiously from my eyes and pull out my gun, then I continue onwards, slower than before, but more determined. I throw open another door and almost let out a shriek of happiness as I see him, knelt over the writhing body of the cabbie.

A bullet hole in the exterior window tells me John got here before I did, and I rush to dad's side as he brandishes a small pill at the dying cabbie.

"Was I right?" The cabbie turns his head away dad and I can see the pool of blood beneath it. "I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?!" He does reply, so dad hurls the pill across the room and stands up. I run to collect the pill for testing later. "Okay, tell me this: your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me – my 'fan'. I want a name."

"No," the driver gasps.

"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you," dad threatens. "Give me a name." The driver shakes his head, and dad places his leg onto his shoulder, where the shot hit. The cabbie gasps in pain. "A name." He cries out again. "Now." He's in too much pain to talk, but dad looks intent and manic as he leans his weight onto his foot so that the cabbie whimpers. "The NAME!" Dad shouts furiously.

"MORIARTY!" The driver croaks, agonised. His eyes close, and his head lolls to the side. He's dead.

Dad steps back looking thoughtful as he repeats the word. Is it a name? Or is it an organisation? Either way, I haven't heard of it, and that's what makes me feel so uneasy.

I hear the parade of sirens screech to a halt outside, quickly followed by the doors slamming shut as the officers come in to search the place. I run up to dad and put my arms around him, sobbing into his jacket.

"I thought you..." I choke. I feel him nod and he kisses my head.

"You've been incredibly brave, Sophia," he whispers softly, teasing his fingers through my hair. "Everything is going to be alright, he's dead now."

I stand up straight, wiping the tears away for what I'm hoping to be is the last time this evening. A couple of medics come in with orange shock blankets, and they lead us out and past the stretcher being wheeled in for the body. Both of us try to shake off the blankets but with no success.

They lead us to the back of the Ambulance where we sit and chat, shrugging off the blanket again as the medics walk away.

"Did you get the pill?" dad asks softly, and I nod, not trusting my voice yet. I'm saved by Lestrade coming over, but not before the medics place the blankets on us again. "Why have we got these blankets?" dad asks him, gesturing. "They keep putting these blankets on us."

"Yeah, it's for shock," Lestrade explains.

"I'm not in shock," dad emphasises.

"Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs," Lestrade grins and we roll our eyes. We'll be on social media as we speak, and then we'll be the laughing stock of Scotland Yard.

"So, the shooter. No sign?" dad asks, and I put my poker face on, not wanting to reveal John to the police.

"Cleared off before we got 'ere. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but got nothing to go on," he shrugs, and dad looks at him pointedly.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

Now it's Lestrade's turn to roll his eyes, and I bite my lip nervously, hoping dad doesn't give too much away. He wouldn't give John up knowingly, but if he's showing off... "Okay, gimme."

Dad stands up. "The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a hand gun. Kill shot over that distance from that kind of a weapon – that's a crack shot you're looking for, but not just a marksman; a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatised to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service ..." dad turns his head and sees John standing behind the police tape, beginning to make the connection but not realising it yet. "... and nerves of steel ..." he finally trails off as John looks around at us innocently and then turns his head away again. I can see the lightbulb light up in dad's head as he makes the connection. Lestrade follows his gaze, but dad turns back to him before he can ask any questions. "Actually, do you know what? Ignore me."

"Sorry?" Lestrade questions, looking puzzled.

"Ignore all of that. It's just the, er, the shock talking," he says, walking towards John.

"Where're you going?" Lestrade shouts.

"I just need to talk about the-the rent," Dad says vaguely.

"But I've still got questions for you."

Dad turns back in irritation. "Oh, what now? I'm in shock! We both are! Look, we've got a blanket!" He lifts the sides of his blanket as if to prove it.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade yells.

"And I just caught you a serial killer ... more or less."

Lestrade pauses and looks at us thoughtfully for a moment, trying to work out whether to let us off or not. "Okay," he sighs. "We'll bring you in tomorrow. Off you go."

"Thank you!" I call back as we walk away.

Dad takes the blanket off of my shoulders and bundles it up, taking his own off as well and doing the same as we approach John, before tossing it in through the open window of a nearby police car.

"Um," John starts, nervously, "Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful."

Dad looks at John for a moment before saying anything. "Good shot."

John tries and completely fails to look innocent. "Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window."

"Well, you'd know," dad says, still quietly. John gazes at him still trying to recover his innocent expression. "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." John clears his throat and looks around nervously, still not admitting the obvious truth, and I'm certainly not saying anything. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course I'm all right."

"Well, you have just killed a man."

"Yes, I ..." he admits finally, trailing off as dad looks at him closely. "That's true, innit?" John smiles, but it looks closer to a grimace as dad continues to watch him. "But he wasn't a very nice man."

Reassured that John really is okay, dad nods in agreement and drops the serious demeanour. "No. No, he wasn't really, was he?"

"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie."

Dad and I laugh as he leads us away. "That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!"

John laughs, dad smiles and I just shake my head at their immaturity. "Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!"

"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me," dad says loudly as we approach Donovan.

"Keep your voice down!" John hisses as we walk past. "Sorry – it's just, um, nerves, I think," he apologises to her.

"Sorry," dad tells her before John clears his throat.

"You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?"

Dad turns back to him. "Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up." He turns and smiles at me.

"No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."

"Why would I do that?" Dad asks, trying to sound innocent.

"Because you're an idiot."

Dad smiles, delighted that somebody finally understands us. After a moment, he forces the smile down. "Dinner?"

"Starving," John agrees.

"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle."

"Interesting, Sherlock," I say, chuckling. "I'm sure John is fascinated"

John laughs and dad looks at me, hurt. He drops his laugh as a black car pulls up and a man and a woman gets out. "Sherlock. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about."

Dad looks up and groans. "I know exactly who that is."

We walk closer to them, dad looking angry at his and Lucinda's sudden appearance. John looks around, as if looking for the police officers in case we need their help. They couldn't do anything to prevent their childish bickering.

"So, another case cracked. How very public-spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft says to dad, just looking for a reason to pick a fight.

"What are you doing here?" Dad demands.

"As ever, I'm concerned about you." I scoff at his pathetic excuse.

"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern.'"

"Always so aggressive," Mycroft scolds. "Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Oddly enough, no!"

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy."

I roll my eyes - it always comes down to this. John frowns as if unsure of what he's heard and I have to stop myself from laughing at his ignorance.

"I upset her? Me?" dad sneers, and Mycroft glowers at him. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asks, finally lost.

"Mother – our mother," dad explains, keeping his eyes on Mycroft. "This is my brother, Mycroft." John stares at him in amazement. "Putting on weight again?"

"Losing it, in fact," Mycroft sneers.

"He's your brother?!"

"Of course he's my brother."

"So he's not ..."

"Not what?" We all look at him as John shrugs in embarrassment.

"I dunno – criminal mastermind?" John grimaces at having even suggested it.

I laugh as dad glowers at Uncle Mycroft. "Close enough."

"For goodness' sake," Mycroft snaps. "I occupy a minor position in the British government."

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis," Dad tells John and Mycroft sighs. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic."

Dad and I walk away, but John stays behind with Mycroft.

"They'll be talking about us now," I say, nudging dad. "God, he's annoying."

Dad chuckles. "You don't know the half of it."

John catches up with us after a moment and we walk down the road, side by side. "Some day, huh."

"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies."

"No you can't," I scoff.

"Almost can." He nods to John. "You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?' John asks, lost in the change of topic.

"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound."

"Oh, yeah. Shoulder."

"Shoulder! I thought so," dad says in delight.

"No you didn't."

"The left one."

"Lucky guess." John fires back.

"I never guess," dad lies, smiling and John laughs.

"Yes you do. What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty," dad says.

"What's 'Moriarty'?"

"I've absolutely no idea." Dad says happily as we continue our way home, momentarily enjoying the rather tedious calm that has swept through London, for now.

#Sophiaholmes #bbcsherlock #sherlock #studyinpink #study in pink #benedictcumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch #cumbercollective #sherlock'sdaughter #parent!lock

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writingsbfe · 5 years

Photo

The Game Princess - Jughead Jones III

The game made him crazy, but not as crazy as you did.

Gryphons and Gargoyles, referred to by those who played it as G&G, had taken Riverdale by storm. It seemed everyone was playing the illusive game, some even bringing it to real life. And honestly, the whole thing weirded you out. Those who played it did so religiously, abandoning the real world in favor of the game. It was like a drug, and everyone was always itching for their next fix.

Ethyl Muggs was jittery all through Spanish class, obviously not paying attention and tapping her pencil loudly on her desk next to you, withdrawal apparent. You weren’t very close to the girl, but you did know that she was one of the victims of the game.

Yes, you called them victims. It only seemed fitting, considering what it did to them.

Unfortunately, one of the latest casualties was your boyfriend, Jughead Jones. He’d said that he wanted to see what it was all about, figure out who the Gargoyle King was so he could end his reign. You had to watch as him and all of your friends got sucked into it.

Jughead had asked you to stay out of it - not to play no matter what. You readily agreed - just because he was sacrificing himself to some game didn’t mean that you had to. You wished he would have stayed out of it with you, but he was far too stubborn for that.

“Here you guys go,” you passed Cokes to each of your friends seated around the game board. You hated being the Snack Mom and resented feeling so sidelined, but it was the best way you could keep an eye on your idiot friends and boyfriend.

“Thank you, Game Princess,” Cheryl popped open the can. “I promise to always protect you from the wargs whilst you sleep.”

“Whatever,” you sighed.

You didn’t remember when they started calling you ‘Game Princess,’ but now it was all they ever called you. You weren’t sure if it was a real character, or they made that up because you were dating the ‘master’ and always brought them food.

Looking at your watch, you didn’t hesitate to interrupt their game. “Jug, you ready to go?”

“Hold it, Game Princess,” Sweet Pea stopped you. “We still have to get past this tricky protection spell.”

“I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow,” you snapped. “Jughead. It’s nearly two in the morning and we have school tomorrow. Can we please leave soon?”

“Give me a few more minutes…”

“You said that three hours ago!”

Jughead stood up, pounding his fist on the table. The comparison you’d made between G&G and drugs earlier? Anger issues could be added to that venn diagram. “We need to get past this barrier and into the orc base! If we don’t, Toni’s deception spell might wear off and-”

“Fake! It’s all fake!” you cried, running your hands through your hair. “It can wait until tomorrow, but we have to get back to what’s real! This whole town has to!”

“You don’t understand!”

“Damn right I don’t understand!” Everything you’d been feeling from the past few weeks of watching your friends lose themselves to some game that nobody’s played in years bubbled to the surface. “I have to sit here, watching you all ruin yourselves! You said that you were playing this to find the Gargoyle King. We could be interrogating our parents, looking into the history of it, but no. I have to bring you guys food because you would forget to eat if I didn’t. I have to remind you all to drink water or you won’t because you’re so sucked into this! I’ve had to confiscate all of your pointy objects! And when Cheryl found that chalice, it didn’t go missing - I smashed it into a million pieces.”

“You did what-” He looked angry, which only made you more so.

“I’m trying to keep you asshats alive, Jug! I’m tired and I want to go home, but if I leave you here you’ll try teaching Fangs and Pea to fire an arrow again, and I’m not taking Hotdog to the vet again.”

He clenched his jaw, and you wished that you could drive it into his thick skull that you were right about this one. But on top of his stubbornness, he was riding on the high that the game brought, and there would be no changing his mind.

You picked up one of the pieces and threw it at the wall, everyone flinching at the surprisingly loud noise it made. “I’ll go wait outside,” you muttered expressionlessly, turning and walking out.

Jughead’s POV

He watched your retreating back, something inside him saying that he should go after you. But he looked back down at the game, and the players all waiting for him to continue narration. They already seemed over your outburst, and he peeled his eyes away from the bunker door as it shut.

“Alright,” he continued, rubbing his hands together. “You’re stuck outside the wall surrounding the orc base, and your failure to break through has alerted the orcs to your presence. They’re coming! Quick - you can either retreat and try again later, or stay and fight a match that will certainly end in your doom. Which do you choose?”

Cheryl hung her head in disappointment. “I guess we have to retreat.” The others groaned.

“Are we in agreement?” Jughead clarified.

“Yes,” Fangs said as the others nodded their head.

“The warriors retreat back into the forest, safely away from the orcs. They gather around to devise a new plan, when the elder whom Mistress Topaz helped earlier appears. He tells them that their only way to get inside the base, is-” He pulled a card from the deck, flipping it over. His blood instantly ran cold.

“What? What is it?” Toni leaned forward.

“Nothing,” he dropped the card as if it had burned his hand. “It’s nothing. Guys, we have to stop playing the game.” All of the elation he’d felt seconds ago turned to sobriety as fear laced his veins.

Sounds of protest arose from the group, but he ignored them.

“Where’s Y/N?” He stood taking his jacket off of his chair and putting it on quickly.

“What, you worried about her little blow-up earlier? She’s just letting off some steam - I’m sure you two will be-”

“No, Sweet Pea!” Jughead shouted, heart drumming in his chest as he picked up the card and showed it to them.

Kill the Game Princess.

“So?” Sweet Pea furrowed his brow. “It’s the game, and she’s not even playing. We just kill off her character.”

Cheryl, who had gone white, shook her head. “The Game Princess isn’t a character… That’s just a nickname we came up with for her.”

Jughead nodded. “Someone’s been watching us. Someone slipped this card in my deck, and that someone wants Y/N dead.”

Everyone was standing. “Let’s go get her.”

Your POV

You were standing outside the bunker, breathing in the chilly night air as you waited for his stupid boyfriend and your stupid friends to finish playing some idiotic but surprisingly dangerous murder game. Technically you could take his motorcycle and drive yourself home, but as pissed as you were, you weren’t going to leave them all alone. Hotdog didn’t need another arrow grazing his back.

You startled as the bunker door flew open, emerging Jughead and the others close behind.

“You’re still here,” he said, standing close to you and putting a hand on your arm. He looked you up and down as if checking you over.

“No shit, Sherlock.” You rolled your eyes. “What’s gotten into you guys? Did you finally finish?”

“We’re done with that game,” Jughead said, surprising you.

Your eyes widened. “You… are?”

“We’re burning that game, and every game in Riverdale. We’ll find the Gargoyle King some other way but I’m not playing anymore.”

“What happened?” you asked, concerned.

“Someone’s threatening you,” Toni explained. “Now can we all go home?”

You froze, comprehending what she was saying. “What? How?”

“I’ll explain at home, but we need to go,” Jughead’s grip on your arm shifted as he led you over to his bike.

“We’ll head to Pop’s,” Cheryl said as Toni nodded. “We just need to talk about everything… Want to come?”

Fangs and Sweet Pea agreed, but Jughead said that he wanted to go back to his trailer and talk to you privately.

The ride home was quiet, as you thought to yourself. You weren’t overly concerned about being threatened - being a Serpent tended to put you in varying amounts of danger on a semi-regular basis, but it also granted protection.

Inside his trailer, you sat cross-legged on his bed. He sat across from you.

“Are you really done playing that game?” You broke the silence.

“Yes,” he assured firmly. “Absolutely.”

You nodded slowly. “What changed? When I left you guys were so engrossed in it that it almost felt like you thought it was real life.”

“We found a card in the deck.” He grabbed your hand. “The instruction on it was to kill the Game Princess.”

“So?” You asked. “I wasn’t playing, anyways.”

“There is no Game Princess. It was a name Sweet Pea made up for you because I was the game master.” The hand not linked with yours pulled his signature beanie off and ran a hand through his hair. “The game… It has a way of creeping inside you, of making you believe that what’s happening is real. I think that whoever put that card in there was hoping that we were in deeper than we were, and that we would - erm - actually do it.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting around a silent gasp. “You- would you have-”

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, reaching forward to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I would never. But someone wants you dead; that’s what you should take away from that.”

You gave a low whistle. The room went silent. “When did our lives get so crazy?” You laughed. “I mean, serial killers are one thing, but murderous roleplay?”

He snorted. “How are you laughing?! You. Are. In. Danger.” He said each word slowly, trying to get you to understand.

“Then we better go investigate, huh?”

“A woman after my own heart,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you.

#jughead jones the third #jughead #imagine #x reader #riverdale #season 3 #riverdale s3 #spoilers #gryphons and gargoyles #oneshot #imaginesbfe

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ask-jerome-morrow · 5 years

Note

all

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

I have no idea.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I’d say I’m more shy.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

No one, really. Maybe Cosmo.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

Definitely not.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Yes.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Dorks. People that work for what they want.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

No.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Does Cosmo count?

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Not really, but I’d say it depends on who it’s with.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Vincent, Jerome, whichever you want to call him.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Yes, I’m alright. Cosmo says hi.”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Queen.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Sometimes.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Not particularly, no.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

Nothing really exciting happened.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I kissed the top of Cosmo’s head last. Does she count?

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I’m not certified to answer this. I’d have to ask the space man.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Not really.

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Sometimes.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

We have neighbors?

21. What are your bad habits?

Have you seen me?

22. Where would you like to travel?

I want to stay home.

23. Do you have trust issues?

I don’t know, do I?

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

What “daily routine”?

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My legs, probably, for reasons that I shouldn’t have to say.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

I wonder, what in the world do I possibly do when I wake up? Possibly wake up?

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

Vincent, Irene, Cosmo.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Not that I recall.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Maybe, I could consider it.

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Nowhere near it.

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

I used to swim.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

Television, definitely.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Yes.

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

It depends.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

A nerd, somewhat tall. Gets excited about things that they like and are willing to sit and just talk, but can also sit in silence. Cannot hate Queen.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

No.

40. What do you want to do after high school?

Alright, that almost made me laugh.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

No.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

That I don’t have anything to say and would rather be quiet.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

I don’t talk to strangers.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

I’d say outer space, maybe, but heights.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Cosmo.

46. What are you paranoid about?

Next question.

47. Have you ever been high?

Yes.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

God, I sure hope so.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Probably.

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

I don’t really wear hoodies.

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

It’s happened before, yes.

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

Stop and think before asking again.

54. Favourite store?

I don’t have one. Maybe the bookstore.

56. Favourite colour?

God, I don’t know.

57. Favourite food?

Eccles cake is alright, cullen skink is, too, Yorkshire pudding is an old favourite too.

58. Last thing you ate?

Lasagna.

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Bread?

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

Yes, I used to swim.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

God, that’s a story.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Not that I can recall.

63. Ever been in love?

Possibly.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

I really doubt anyone wants to hear about that. It’s hardly that interesting.

65. Are you hungry right now?

Not really, no.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

No.

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

God, no.

69. Are you watching tv right now?

No.

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Vincent, Irene, Cosmo.

71. Craving something? What?

Not particularly. Some tea or whiskey do sound good, though.

72. What colour are your towels?

This isn’t something I know off the top of my head, let me go ask the space man.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Some. Four, maybe.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

No.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

I know for a fact that I don’t have any.

75. Favourite animal?

Cats are nice.

76. What colour is your underwear?

This is a weird question.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Either is fine.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

I haven’t really thought about it much.

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

It’s a cream/beige.

80. What colour pants?

Black.

81. Favourite tv show?

Sherlock or Sherlock Holmes, probably.

82. Favourite movie?

Possibly Bohemian Rhapsody. Sherlock Holmes is good, too.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

I haven’t seen either of those, and I have no desire to.

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

I have seen neither of those.

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

I haven’t seen that.

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

From what?

87. First person you talked to today?

Cosmo or Vincent.

88. Last person you talked to today?

Vincent. Maybe Cosmo.

89. Name a person you hate?

Anton.

90. Name a person you love?

Vincent, Irene, Cosmo. I’m counting my cat. She counts.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Yes, Anton.

92. In a fight with someone?

Does Anton count?

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

None.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

None.

95. Last movie you watched?

Bohemian Rhapsody or Sherlock Holmes.

96. Favourite actress?

I don’t know.

97. Favourite actor?

I don’t know. Maybe Ronald Howard or Howard Marion-Crawford?

98. Do you tan a lot?

No.

99. Have any pets?

Cosmo, my cat.

100. How are you feeling?

That’s up for debate.

101. Do you type fast?

I’d say so.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

God, yes.

103. Can you spell well?

Occasionally.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

...a little, but not much.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

I have.

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

I haven’t the faintest idea. Maybe you should ask someone else.

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

I have, once before.

108. What should you be doing?

Probably getting more samples, but there’s also more than enough of those.

109. Is something irritating you right now?

Anton is, yes.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

...yes.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

God, I don’t know. Irene?

113. What was your childhood nickname?

People usually just called me by my first name.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

God, I sure hope so.

115. Do you play the Wii?

No.

116. Are you listening to music right now?

I am.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

It’s alright, yes.

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Sometimes, yes. I remember having some years ago, a friend came over and made some. She made it really well, I liked it.

119. Favourite book?

How dare you try to make me choose.

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

Not particularly.

121. Are you mean?

I can be, yes.

122. Is cheating ever okay?

No.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

I don’t really go out that often. I could probably do it.

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Not particularly, no.

125. Do you believe in true love?

Sort of.

126. Are you currently bored?

A little. Why else do you think I’m answering over one hundred thirty questions about myself?

127. What makes you happy?

Cosmo, talking to Vincent and/or Irene. Reading. Listening to music.

128. Would you change your name?

I technically have.

129. What your zodiac sign?

I haven’t the faintest idea.

130. Do you like subway?

That’s that one place that sells the sub sandwiches, right? I’m not that fond of it.

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

The only friend of the opposite sex that I have is Irene, maybe Cavendish, and Irene has a boyfriend. I don’t know about Cavendish.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Vincent, Jerome, whatever you want to call him.

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

“I was told a million times/Of all the people in my way/How I had to keep on trying/And get better every day/But if I crossed a million rivers/And I rode a million miles/Then I'd still be where I started/Same as when I started/Keep yourself alive, come on/Keep yourself alive”,

the show must go on, or

“I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky/Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity/I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva/I'm gonna go, go, go/There's no stopping me/I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah/Two hundred degrees/That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit/I'm traveling at the speed of light/I wanna make a supersonic man out of you”

I can’t believe I forgot this. Or,

“Don't put your neck on the line/Don't drown on me babe/Blow your brains out/Don't do that (Yeah)/Don't do that, you got a good thing going baby/Don't do it (No) don't do it (No) don't/Don't try suicide/Nobody's worth it/Don't try suicide/Nobody cares/Don't try suicide/You're just gonna hate it/Don't try suicide/Nobody gives, nobody cares/Nobody gives a damn”

134. Can you count to one million?

If I tried hard enough, I could.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

I wouldn’t call any of them “dumb”.

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

It depends.

137. How tall are you?

Four foot six.

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Straight.

139. Brunette or Blonde?

A mix of both, really.

140. Summer or Winter?

It doesn’t really matter.

141. Night or Day?

Night, probably.

142. Favourite month?

God, I don’t know.

143. Are you a vegetarian?

No.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Any is alright. I don’t eat much chocolate.

145. Tea or Coffee?

How dare you.

146. Was today a good day?

It was alright.

147. Mars or Snickers?

Mars.

148. What’s your favourite quote?

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

Not particularly, no.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“...though Billy was only twenty-one years old. He was also going bald. Wind and cold and violent exercise had turned his face crimson.” and “...vice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way.”

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aj-draws · 6 years

Text

Future Sanders Sides Teacher AU Fic Ideas (Pt 1)

Just a little something I’ve been thinking about writing for a long time now??

These are just ideas!! I might make oneshots here and there, but I want to try and make this into an actual story on Wattpad or something during summer vacation.

[[Thank you so very much for getting me to post this @royallyanxious you’re amazing :) Oh and btw I was that anon that said they liked your Logicality FBI agent AU fanfic. I’m super anxious but I hope you like this anyway!]]

[[Tag list: @izzynuggets, @diadrip]]

Summary: The sides are teachers in a highschool that Thomas and his friends go to.

-It’s also sort of a human AU as well. The sides will naturally have different last names, which I have not entirely decided yet. (+Afterschool they all have part time jobs across the street from each other but there’ll be more about that in a part two or three I’ll try getting to in the future)

[[Characters]]

Logan:

-Science teacher (Living Environment honors and/or Chemistry)

-Part time job as a librarian

-Wants to keep being a teacher

-Speaks fluently in salty

-His choice of wear is a mix between casual and formal. Slicked back hair (with hair gel), tightly fitted polo shirts, leather belts, jeans and his signature blue and black tie

-Definitely wears different ties with a theme fitted for each and every holiday

-Can accurately quote books off the top of his head

-When he's too tired to do anything, he just binges Doctor Who and Sherlock with his classes

-(Based on this one Logan skit on Thomas’ insta I think y’all know what I’m talking about) He brought an entire toaster that he keeps in his classroom just so he could eat toast with Crofter’s 24/7.

-He eats Crofter’s with everything he eats and it scares everyone sometimes. Like he’ll just be casually teaching as he spreads the jam onto a slice of pizza and everyone’s a little concerned

-Once during a test he sees one of his students struggling and suddenly their stomach rumbles loudly and as everyone laughs he just makes them a sandwich and tells them that they could take the test tomorrow

-Whenever a student doodles on one of their assignments, he finishes the picture with a crayon and he loves it when they see it and smile it makes his day

-He’s that teacher that you’re terrified of at first but then you realize they’re awesome (He has a resting bitchface that scares the heck out of everyone on the first day of school)

-Him being a sort of psychologist toward his students and they come to him (and Patton) with problems and mental breakdowns. He’s terrible at the comforting part of what to do when a person’s crying, but he’s excellent at figuring out the students’ problem or problems at helping them change their schedule/bad habits to fix it

-Him reassuring his students that-no matter what society says-just because they aren't good at math or science doesn't mean that they're useless and stupid+grades are not everything

-His students adoring him for being so realistic and understanding that school can be stressful sometimes

-His students calling him mom

-Him being so sleep deprived one day that as he was writing something on the board, he used incorrect grammar and once he got corrected, he just slowly walks over to his desk and sits under it for a solid minute

-He hardly ever loses his cool. Ever. He handles those few immature kids in his class with ease, threatening them firmly or just completely roasting them so that they’re too busy laughing/being stunned to disrupt class.

-But once he just gave up. He silently turns around and s n a p s.

-He lets out this unholy screech that echoes throughout the school and shakes the nearby classrooms and scares away the birds perched on a tree outside and the chalk in his hand breaks in half the students are terrified they’ve never heard a sound of that volume from Logan’s mouth and they’re wondering if this is is what they’ll hear when the pits of hell breaks open at their feet-

-And then Logan just pauses. He takes a long drink from the water bottle on his desk, sets it down, adjusts his tie, clears his throat, then continues on with the lesson like nothing happened. Everyone agrees that that’s the scariest thing they’ve ever seen and heard in their lives.

Patton:

-Art and home economics teacher (He has one homeroom art class in the morning, then a home ec class after lunch where he teaches stuff like cooking/baking, time management, money management, food, etc...)

-Part time job as a barista

-Wants to own his own bakery (or just be a stay at home dad)

-Speaks fluently in puns

-Whenever he has a student that he thinks is in a bad mood, he personally tapes some sort of dessert he baked to their locker on a plate with a nice post-it note taped to it

-His students call him dad

-During a rainy day, he sees some kid waiting for their late parent to pick them up outside at dismissal and he walks up to them and covers their head with his cardigan and invites them inside his classroom instead of waiting in the rain

-He frequently gets into pun/prank wars with his students

-Depending on how he’s feeling, when he sees a student sleeping in class, he’ll either blast an airhorn into their ear or lay a blanket on their back there’s no in between

-Once his class was so loud and rambunctious and he got so stressed out because he didn’t know how to deal with it that he just started crying and his students had to comfort him and no one dared to make him cry ever again

-He once forgot where he lost his glasses while he was cooking something and he asked his students to help him find them and they looked for them the entire period and no one could find it

-No one told him his glasses were right atop his head.

Roman:

-Drama teacher (Sometimes subs for the Chorus teacher, who is always absent because she's very sickly)

-Part time job as a florist/works at a flower shop

-Wants to be a future actor on broadway

-Speaks fluently in Disney songs/musical references

-The most fashionable out of the four. He has a bunch of different outfits depending on the season. For winter and fall, he wears lots of sweaters, leather jackets, dress pants, scarves and sometimes flannel around the waist. For summer and spring, he’ll be wearing button downs, sunglasses, loose t-shirts, and jeans/shorts.

-During play rehearsal, he puts on a red sash (and his Princey clothing basically) because he claims he needs to get ‘in the play spirit’ (when in reality he just likes wearing his old prince costume from a play he was in in the past)

-Not all of his students like him (he can be vv loud and extravagant), but his theater kids honestly adore him. They love his passion for singing, acting and musicals.

-They cheer Roman on and completely support his dream of performing on broadway one day. They secretly (and shamelessly) support him every chance they can get on social media.

-That teacher that, when he sees an artsy student, will catch them drawing during class and instead of telling them to pay attention will fanboy over their art and tell them how amazing it looks so usually art students also love him

-Knows the latest gossip about a lot of the students in the school

-Purposely casts the two students he knows has a crush on each other as the two main characters that have to stage kiss

-One of his students gave him a Burger King crown and he cried and wore it for the rest of the week and attacked any other teacher that tried to take it off his head (*cough cough* Virgil *cough*)

Virgil:

-English teacher

-Part time job as a tattoo artist/works at a tattoo shop

-Wants to be a YouTuber/blogger (and write stories online)

-Speaks fluently in sarcasm/memes

-On the first day of school he wears normal teacher like clothing, but then the rest of the year he wears hoodies and casual t-shirts and sweatpants that he hides under a long jacket (he’s technically supposed to be all formal and whatever, but he ain’t got time for that)

-He dreams to get this original story he's been working on for years published one day. This story is basically a fantasy AU involving characters based off him, Logan, Patton and Roman.

-When he reads excerpts from books, his kids go wild because he can do Thomas' narrator/storyteller voice (the one where his voice drops a million octaves)

-Whenever a woman/girl speaks, his voice jumps up a million octaves and he purposely squeaks/sounds like someone on helium and it gets his classes cracking up

-The kind of guy that uses the dankest of memes on worksheets/in presentations

-A lot of students really love him. The ones who like ELA are in love with his writing and storytelling. The one who don't even like ELA still like his class because he's good at keeping them engaged.

-Just like Logan, he has a natural talent for mercilessly roasting those immature kids that fool around in his class

-He'll randomly ramble away and sink into a hole of existential crisis but his students still like that side of him because it's just relatable.

-He's incredibly flexible and he can be found sitting/lying on places that probably shouldn't be sat/laid on. Once he was just casually reading a book sitting in one of those pretzels on his desk and a student screeched.

-He constantly gets compared to a cat. He hisses at Roman when he's frustrated with him, the students find him on top of furniture that isn't meant to be sat on, he says perfect as 'purrfect' and his noise twitches a lot. He used to be like nahh whatcha talking about until Roman gifted him with a cat plushie one day and he finally admitted that cats were his favorite animal (Bonus-His students joke about him being a furry a lot)

-His artsy students draw him fanart all the time and he loves it sooo much. (Bonus-Someone drew him, Pat, Roman and Lo as cats and he almost cried)

((There’s part one! Part two will either be about their part time jobs, or their interactions with each other as teachers. Feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you!!))

#teacher au #school au #human au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic ideas #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #part one #fic ideas #my writing

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Camren: At First Sight (Chapter 4)

Trigger Warning: mention of sexual assault

A/N: Hi guys! If you want to start from the beginning, it’s posted on Wattpad (@paigejv). Enjoy :)

“UGHHHH,” I groaned into my pillow, fumbling to silence the alarm. Ms. Philips wouldn’t mind if I came late to first period, right? Surely a top student deserves a little leeway…

I jolted up in bed.

“Guys,” I rasped, my eyes squinting against the sunlight pouring through the cabin window. “It’s elimination day.”

No response. Turning to my right, I ran my fingers over the now vacant space beside me. I sighed when I found the sheets cold.

Before I could wonder further, Lauren came striding through the bunk door, her notebook tucked under her arm. “No shit, Sherlock,” she grinned. “How’s your leg?”

“Throbbing,” I winced. “But I’ll live.” I scrunched my blankets to the bottom of the bed and climbed to my feet. With a hiss, I managed to limp forward, over to Dinah’s sleeping form.

She lay curled beneath her covers, her head turned away from the wall. I cupped my hands around my mouth.

“Are you sure that’s—” Lauren started, her eyes wide.

“IT’S TIME TO GET UP,” I shouted into Dinah’s ear, my voice echoing through the cabin.

She sat up so fast, she nearly banged her head on the bedpost. “What the hell, Mila!” The younger girl grabbed for her heart, jabbing an accusing finger in my face. “You little shit.”

I shrugged, grinning. “You looked so peaceful.”

“And you, Lauren? I would have thought you knew better,” Dinah glared.

She raised her hands protectively. “Hey, hey. Don’t drag me into this. That was all Camz.”

“So when I pummel her, you won’t stop me?”

Ally’s moan saved Lauren from answering. “Remind me again why we went to bed so late?”

“Hot guys,” Lauren smirked.

“Assholes.”

I raised my eyebrow, turning toward Normani. “What?”

“Hm?”

“I thought you said—“

“We need to get ready,” she mumbled, not meeting my gaze. “There’s no time to shower.”

I nodded and limped back to my cubby. Lost in thoughts of the impending elimination, we dressed in silence, well-aware that our next trip to the cabin could be to pack our suitcases.

My hair was a disaster, so I tied it up in a ponytail before hurrying onto the porch.

“Camz—”

“Right, right, shoes.”

Lauren shook her head, smirking, as I limped back and stuffed them onto my feet.

“Don’t judge me. I’m so nervous.”

We headed toward the main building, trudging through the cold morning air. I took a deep breath.

“It will be over soon,” Ally smiled, throwing her arm across my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If anyone’s getting through, it’s going to be the five of us.”

I giggled. “Yeah, obviously, we’re—”

“All five? Those odds aren’t too hot,” Normani blurted.

Piercing green eyes turned a shade darker as Lauren glared at the older girl. “Not helping,” she spat.

“Hey, I’m just being realistic.”

I slipped my hand into Lauren’s and pulled her into the cafeteria before she could respond. “Let’s get some oatmeal.”

She followed reluctantly. “Mush, you mean.”

“Not when you add bananas.”

“Banana mush.”

I placed my hand over my heart. “And I thought we were friends.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Just because you have a weird obsession with bananas doesn’t mean I have to like eating them.”

“There’s a joke there somewhere,” Dinah smirked, joining us at the table.

I flushed slightly as Lauren poked my cheek.

“Hey look,” I announced, quickly changing the subject. “It’s Arin.” He stumbled into the cafeteria, half-asleep, and slid into the chair next to Keaton’s.

“Normaniiiii,” Ally sang. “You should go say hello.”

I giggled.

“Fuck off,” Normani muttered under her breath. Dinah gasped, and Ally looked hurt.

“What has gotten into you today?” Lauren asked angrily.

“Or last night, for that matter,” Dinah blurted. “Why’d you leave so early?”

I swung my eyes in her direction. Under our scrutiny, she fidgeted, her face turning red. “I—”

“Quiet, please.” Demi’s voice echoed around the cafeteria.

We had been too distracted to notice her entrance. I whipped my head around to face her, my heart already pounding. She stood with Simon at her side and tapped the microphone until the room fell silent. My stomach dropped as I braced myself for what she had to say.

“We’ll talk later,” Ally whispered.

Normani merely nodded, her eyes downcast.

“Will the following people please stand?” Demi cleared her throat and unfolded a piece of paper, preparing to read.

“Really?” Lauren whispered. “They’re going to do this here?”

“Shush,” I hissed.

“Emma Dover,” she read. “Catherine Edwards. Nate Elsen. Sam Gorman.”

My heart nearly stopped when I realized the list was alphabetical. I tuned out the rest of the names. “She skipped me.” I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my face turning red.

Lauren squeezed my hand hard. “She’s skipped all of us, Camz.”

It was true. Demi was already past “M,” and not one of our five names had been called. Normani muttered to herself, looking as heartbroken as I felt.

“And Abby Williams,” Demi finished, replacing the mic in its stand. “Please follow me.”

We watched them leave the cafeteria mutely, gathering their things. Simon stayed at the front of the room, scanning our faces.

“She didn’t say what the names meant,” Ally whispered.

I closed my eyes.

The cafeteria door screeched shut, and we all turned to stare at Simon. He surveyed us in silence. And then the corner of his mouth lifted. “Relax. You all made it.”

The roar was deafening. I cried as Lauren’s arms came around my own, followed by Dinah, and Ally, and even Normani, who squeezed into the giant group hug so tight I could barely breathe.

Simon chuckled, then cleared his throat to call our attention. Twice. Three times. It wasn’t until Demi had returned, a good ten minutes later, that we reclaimed our seats and quieted down. My smile was so big, it felt like my cheeks were going to break.

“Congratulations,” Demi grinned. “You’ve really earned it.” Another round of applause shook the room.

“Should we explain the third challenge?” Simon murmured.

Demi considered for a moment, then turned her head and spoke into the mic. “Challenge 3 will be tomorrow afternoon. All you need to know for now,“ and she waved her hand over a stack of papers on the front table, “is the song you will perform. Once you finish breakfast, pick up your assignment and head to rehearsal straightaway.”

As the judges took their leave, Demi’s eyes met mine. She winked quickly, and like the weirdo I am, my hand raised in a thumbs-up. I flushed when she smiled knowingly.

Itching to get started, we hurried to the trashcan and dumped our bowls of mush.

I was in such a hurry to escape the rehearsal room that I left through a back door. Expecting to be alone, I was surprised to find a familiar shape sitting in the grass.

“Camz?” Lauren closed her notebook quickly when I walked toward her. She leaned forward, squinting against the sun. “What’s wrong?”

I wiped the tears from my eyes with shaking hands. “Nothing. I’m just being stupid.”

“Come here,” she implored, holding out her arms.

I scooted into them gratefully. As she stroked my hair, I let out a sigh, relaxing into her embrace. My eyelids slid shut.

“How do you do it?” I murmured.

“Do what?”

“Make me feel so good.”

I felt Lauren’s hand freeze on my hair. Then she laughed lightly, and I could breathe again. What the fuck, Camila.

“I guess I just understand where you’re coming from.”

I bit my lip. “Don’t tell me you also forgot the words when Simon walked by? No wait—you definitely didn’t knock over the music stand and spill your drink all over the floor. Only I could do that.”

She grimaced. “Sounds like a great practice.”

“The best.”

We fell into a comfortable silence. I wiggled slightly and moved down her body to rest my head in her lap. Stretching my legs across the grass, I watched as the shapes in the clouds raced through the sky, joining with the treetops when I couldn’t see any further.

These arms of mine, they are lonely / Lonely and feeling blue

My breath hitched when Lauren began to sing. At barely more than a whisper, I strained my ears, needing to hear every word.

These arms of mine, they are yearning / Yearning from wanting you

I lifted my chin to look at her, but those green eyes stared straight ahead, refusing to meet my gaze.

And if you would let them hold you / Oh, how grateful I will be

When I ran my fingers over her hand, her cheeks took on a red tinge, but her voice didn’t waver.

These arms of mine, they are burning / Burning from wanting you

She stopped as abruptly as she started. Of their own accord, my fingers reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That was amazing,” I breathed.

“Thanks.” She finally dropped her eyes to meet mine, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips. I had never seen her so vulnerable. Those green orbs consumed me, and I couldn’t look away, desperate to decipher her expression.

“Lauren?” I murmured.

“Yeah?” she breathed, her eyes still on mine.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

I watched her blush up to the roots of her dark hair. She broke our eye contact and stared straight ahead, across the open field. “That I have to learn the end of that song if I’m going to have a shot at making it to the Judges’ Houses.” She gently pushed me off her lap and climbed to her feet, lifting her notebook from the grass. “We’d better go before lunch ends.”

I nodded mutely and wiped the dirt off my shorts.

“What,” Dinah pushed her food around her plate angrily, “has gotten into you guys?”

I looked up to see Lauren frowning into her spaghetti. She offered a vague shrug and merely rolled her eyes, avoiding my gaze completely.

“First Normani,” Dinah huffed, “and now you two.” She waved her fork between us. “No one’s saying anything.”

I reached for my napkin and let my fingers tear it to strips, too anxious to sit still.

“That’s it.” Dinah banged her cup on the table. “We’re gonna play a game. Outside, all of you, now.”

No one moved.

“We’re still eating,” Ally finally protested.

Dinah crossed her arms. “Fine. Then we’ll play right here. Truth or dare.”

“What do you want to know, Dinah? That I’m not as nice as you thought I was? That I don’t give a fuck about any of you?” Normani blurted.

I flinched and found myself leaning away from the older girl. She was my competitor, and there was a decent chance I wouldn’t see her after this week, but it hurt all the same.

“Fuck you.” Lauren finally said, her tone flat.

Instead of shooting back an insult, Normani dropped her head into her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I sat there, frozen, as Dinah stretched her hand across the table and placed it reassuringly on the older girl’s arm. “Actually…I wanted to know what Arin did to you.”

My mouth dropped open. Lauren looked just as surprised as I felt; she turned in my direction, crinkling her nose in confusion. It was the first time she had looked at me since we came inside.

“Wait…” Ally sighed. “This has to do with—"

But Dinah ignored her, focusing her attention on Normani. “He didn’t, like, you know…”

I held my breath as we waited for her reply, a sick feeling settling in my stomach.

“No,” she finally murmured in a thick voice. She wiped her eyes roughly. “But if his friend hadn’t seen us…I don’t know. He could have.”

Dinah stood up so quickly her chair skidded against the wall. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” she snarled.

“No,” Normani repeated weakly. Lauren grabbed Dinah’s arm to stop her from charging across the cafeteria and attacking Arin then and there. “I mean…it just happened so fast. I’m not sure…”

“Not sure of what, Normani?” Ally asked softly.

But she just shook her head. “Never mind. Can we talk about something else?”

“No,” Lauren and Dinah scowled. “You’ve got to report him.”

Normani just shook her head. “And say what? He kissed me?” She scoffed. “It would be weirder if he hadn’t.”

I cleared my throat. “Wait, I don’t understand. So what happened?”

The older girl reached for her fork, pushing the food across her plate. “I don’t…know.” Her voice cracked.

We fell silent at that. I replayed the conversation, barely paying attention to Dinah as she walked around the table and wrapped Normani in a hug.

“It was fucking terrible,” she older girl mumbled, her gaze fixed on a speck of dirt beside her cup. “Whether I wanted him or not didn’t seem to matter.”

Lauren’s eyes turned a full shade darker. She clenched her fists, clearly itching to…well, I wasn’t really sure. But Arin wouldn’t like it.

“There’s only two days left, Normani,” Ally said softly. “Let’s hope he gets eliminated.”

“And we make it,” Normani hiccupped. “I’m sorry, guys. Really. You’re the best.”

“Duh,” Dinah grinned. “And from now on, no boys. We stick together.”

I looked at Lauren quickly, thinking about Keaton. But the corner of her mouth quirked. “No boys,” she echoed, her green eyes settling on my own. She smiled tentatively. I think my answering grin spoke for itself.

Lauren laced our fingers and pulled me into the auditorium. “What do you think the meeting’s about?”

“Maybe they’ll explain the final challenge?” The other contestants milled around the stage, and with a jolt, I remembered the first time I had come through those doors. Just as uncertain, just as nervous…but now I had the green-eyed girl beside me. That made all the difference.

“Earth to Camila,” Lauren sang.

I blushed, realizing I had been staring at her. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

She just shook her head, a grin pulling at her lips. “Never mind.”

We sat behind our bunkmates. Dinah was still consoling a distressed Normani, but Ally smiled at us in acknowledgement. When she turned back around, I leaned into Lauren’s side, sighing happily as her fingers rubbed patterns into my arm.

“Alright, listen up.” Demi spoke into the mic. I did a double take. Beside her stood…holy hell. “As you can see, we have two new judges joining us for the third challenge and the remainder of the season. Please welcome…Britney Spears and L.A. Reid!”

The applause was deafening. I grabbed Lauren’s arm, my mouth open, too starstruck to form words.

I loved the way her eyes sparkled under the stage lights. She laughed, giddy, and ran her hand through her hair. “As if things couldn’t get any crazier.”

“Cue flashback to seven-year-old me rocking it out to ‘Toxic,’” I giggled. “If you’d told me that I’d be singing in front of Britney Spears for real…”

“So you’ve always been a dork?” Lauren teased.

“Hey,” I whined. “I—"

“Shut it, lovebirds,” Dinah called over her shoulder. I didn’t register what she had said until Lauren jumped away from me, pushing my arm off hers. My wrist crashed into the floor to support my weight. “Oof,” I winced.

“Sorry,” she muttered, refusing to meet my gaze.

I tried to listen to L.A. Reid when he stepped up to the mic, but my mind was working in overdrive, spinning out of control. It was a joke I know Dinah didn’t mean anything by it but oh god Lauren sure thought she did I could see it written all over her face the way she pushed me away in disgust like she wanted nothing to do with me—

“Coming, Mila?” Ally asked. I shook my head slowly, staring around the room, surprised to find most of the contestants standing in four columns. I blinked, confused, before spotting Lauren and the girls lined up in front of Britney. She held a sign over her head that read “Teens,” so I scrambled to my feet and moved to join them.

When Arin ambled in front of me, I curled my lip, wishing I could shove him off the stage. Assuming Ally shared the same sentiment, I turned around…and was surprised to see she had joined Demi’s line. I raised my eyebrow, frowning.

“I’m 19,” she mouthed, pointing to the sign above Demi’s head. “Young adult.”

Hm. I hadn’t known that. I smiled weakly and raised my hand, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Demi spoke into the mic once more, dropping her sign at her feet. “The lines you’re in now are your competition. For the third challenge, you’ll be singing for one of six available spots in your age group.”

I gulped, my stomach dropping, as I looked up my line. No way in hell could I beat all those people. Not to mention…Lauren. I watched as she ran her hand through her long black hair. I willed her to turn around, but she kept her eyes trained on the judges.

“We want to give you the chance to work with other singers,” Demi continued. “Some of your coaches have complained that they can’t get through to you guys.”

I bit my lip. Whoops.

“If you look to your right and left, you’ll see your new group members. Not in your age category, of course, so help each other as much as you can, please. You’ll have the afternoon to run through your songs. After dinner, you’ll meet with your coaches and show them what you’ve learned.” Demi beckoned the first contestants forward and spoke to them briefly before sending them off to a rehearsal room.

My line moved slowly, and I tried to count across the rows to figure out who I would end up with. Lauren never turned around, but I glanced at her periodically, noting the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

When Ally was paired with Arin, I smiled sympathetically at her scowl, waving to her sadly as she left the auditorium. And then it was my turn.

“Room 12, guys,” Demi consulted her notes. “Make sure you know your lyrics by tonight’s practice.” She smirked at me briefly, and I sighed, knowing that was for my benefit.

“Will do,” I nodded quickly, with all the confidence I could muster.

We trudged through the auditorium doors.

I threw my arm over my eyes and collapsed into my bed, my stomach full to bursting from dinner with our small groups. “I’m never getting up,” I croaked aloud, assuming it was Dinah on the stairs.

Wrong. Lauren chuckled as she pushed through the bunk door, stumbling slightly in the dark. “Tell me about it.”

I fidgeted nervously. Her damn mood swings were giving me whiplash, and my heart thudded as she came straight for me. Those green eyes didn’t quite meet mine. “Scoot, will you?”

I wasn’t about to question it. My bed dipped under her weight, and she curled into my side, tucking her arm behind my head. I stiffened when her fingers grazed my collarbone.

“You know we have practice in forty-five minutes?” Dinah thumped into the cabin and flicked on the light, making us both jump. “Weren’t you going to shower, Mila?”

I sighed. “Yeah.” But I burrowed further into Lauren’s neck, pressing my body flush against hers, feeling reckless.

“She smells good.”

I opened one eye, squinting against the light. My lips quirked when Lauren turned red. I didn’t bother hiding my smirk.

“I mean you could probably wait until after rehearsal to shower,” she mumbled, rolling onto her stomach and out of my arms. “If you’ll be awake enough at midnight.”

I groaned and shoved a pillow over my face. Though working with the other contestants had proved surprisingly useful—I’d fully memorized the lyrics, and Tate had suggested a genius note change to serve as my redemption—I wanted nothing more than to stay in this bed. For eternity.

But I squeezed my eyes shut and let my better sense win out. Deep breath. I counted to five and sat up slowly, reaching for my towel. “If I’m this tired now, I’m going to pass out later.” I stumbled into the bathroom and turned the tap to scalding.

I wished I could shut my brain off, just for a minute. So I wouldn’t have to remember the way my body responded to Lauren’s raspy voice, the way those green eyes bared so much, even as she said nothing at all. I hated the power she held, able to turn my day from good to bad to good again with nothing more than a well-timed smile…or a well-placed shove.

Shut it, lovebirds.

I especially refused to think about why I cared so much.

Instead, I tipped my chin toward the shower head, letting the water mingle with my tears and wash them down my skin. They pooled behind the rim of my shower shoes and only spilled over when I shook them free, spraying water across the tub. My fingers had wrinkled to prunes before I found the energy to cut the tap.

When I reached for my towel, my hand hit the wall with a painful smack. I muttered a curse, groping blindly from behind the shower curtain, certain I had hooked it on the door. I reluctantly pulled the curtain aside, shivering, and searched the tile floor. My clothes lay in a messy pile, and I tried not to drip water on them as I stepped out of the tub.

“Guys?” I cracked the bathroom door open. “Can someone pass me a towel?”

No response.

I peered around the door and into the cabin. It was completely empty…and there was my towel, crumpled on my bed. I bit my lip. Ten steps, max, and I’d be back in the bathroom, warm and dry. I shivered when I inched further around the door, half my body already into the bunk, ready to make a run for it…

“AHHHHHHH!”

I slammed the door on my toe as I jumped back, petrified. “What the fuck, guys!” I slid my hands to my knees and bent over, waiting for my heart to stop pounding.

“That was fucking hilarious!” Dinah called. “And payback for this morning. You really should have known better, Mila.”

“Oh yeah?” I gasped through the door. “You just wait, Dinah Jane Hansen. Just. You. Wait. You’re so done.”

“Hey, you can’t only blame me. It was Lauren’s idea!” she shouted back.

I blushed, wondering how much of my body had been visible when the girls jumped out from behind their cubbies. “You’re both fucked, then.”

Normani and Ally giggled. Traitors. “Still want that towel, Mila?”

“No.” I crossed my arms, even though she couldn’t see me through the door. “I’m just fine, thank you very much.” I slipped on clean clothes and ran my comb through my hair, taking care to spray water over the other girls’ belongings. “That’s what you get,” I muttered.

“Stop talking to yourself and come out here,” Lauren called. “You’re going to be late.”

Hearing footsteps pounding down the stairs, I flung the door aside and stepped into the cabin. Lauren was alone. Her hand was in her hair, and she bit her lip as her gaze traveled down my body, over my chest, and lingered on the sliver of skin peeking out from beneath the hem of my shirt. Our eyes locked.

“Come on,” she muttered, and spun on her heel. The back of her ears turned bright red as we pushed through the door.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! As always, more chapters are posted on Wattpad (@paigejv). Skip directly to chapter 5.0 <3

#UPDATE #series #x factor #non AU #slash #trigger warning #camren #angst drama #humour #romance fluff #submission #At First Sight

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notgonnarememberthis · 6 years

Text

Paying Attention

Aight so fun fact about this little fic I am posting. It started out as a stream of consciousness written after the episode last week written on my cell phone. However, I liked the idea so much that it is now a multichapter idea and I have no idea where I’m taking it or how I’m getting it there but here you go! It kinda went through the grinder over the past week cause I transferred the idea to a laptop, did some rehashing where stuff didn’t make sense. I literally pondered the name of Watson’s baby for a week. I originally had the baby as a girl so if there’s any pronoun mistakes just yell at me and I’ll fix them ASAP.

After last week’s episode I was so inspired by Desmond Harrington’s portrayal of Michael that I had to write this. Also does anyone know Michael’s last name cause I don’t think they’ve said it in canon yet? I could be wrong.

Sherlock goes to Watson’s room in the dead of night only to find she is gone and a note is left behind. To what extent will he go to in order to find her?

It is nearly four in the morning when the shrieking begins from upstairs. Sherlock, to his credit, no longer jumps at the sound of Leo awake and announcing his need to be fed. Rather, he sweeps quickly into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for Watson to sleepily retrieve when she wakes. It has become their pattern as of late since Watson gained a particularly nasty burn from trying to operate the stove at such an early hour. He puts the bottle on, she takes it, feeds Leo, and they all resume their previous activities.

When Watson proposed to him her idea of becoming a new mother he originally brushed it off. It was obviously just the murder of her quack therapist hitting her too closely. Yet after the incident he noticed the longing looks more and more. How her step would halt a second as they passed the park on the way to the station. Her eyes lingered on children smiling and playing. Her heart broke at every baby cry. It didn't take much persuading on his behalf.

Of course in perfect Watson fashion she settles into the role of mother with fantastical ease. She balances work and motherhood like a champion, even wearing one of those ridiculous straps across her chest in order to bounce Leo whilst simultaneously studying casework across the walls. She'd scatter kisses across the baby's stomach while he screeched with laughter. Her serene smile is something Sherlock won't soon forget. Even when work was too much she had the faithful eyes of Emily, Mrs. Hudson, or Oren watching over him.

That's why it’s strange when five minutes pass and still no Watson. He'd not heard her footsteps come down the stairs or even the creak of the floorboards to announce that she'd even left her bed.

With a huff he abandons what he's doing fetching the bottle on his way. He tests the milk in the same manner he's watched Watson do a hundred times now before deeming it suitable for consumption and climbing the stairs. He first checks her bedroom but no sign of Watson.

Leo cries from the crib beside the much larger bed where Watson had obviously been lying. He rests a hand on the spot where she'd been only to find it cool to the touch. She's been out of bed for quite some time. He pushes back his apprehension first to tend to the crying child. They've already gotten numerous noise complaints from the heartless bastard next door. Obviously he'd underestimated the powerful lungs of a four month old.

He cradles him gently feeding and burping him before settling him back to the crib so he could peacefully slumber once more. All the time, despite his visceral efforts to remain calm, his heart thunders in his chest. Once he's asleep once more he begins his investigation. He checks her office in the basement despite knowing for a fact that she wouldn't ever leave Leo alone. Yet again he comes up empty. He checks the bathroom, living room twice, and against all odds his room for any sign of Watson.

He resigns to the inevitable in checking Watson's room and risking waking the baby once again. However, at this point all rationale is thrown out the window. The only thing he finds is a note scribbled on her bedside table that sends his heart plummeting to his stomach.

'You stopped paying attention.'

With shaky fingers he dials the first number he can think of at a time like this.

"Sherlock what the hell," The tired voice of Marcus groans through the phone. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Watson is gone." He interrupts the detective mid-rant.

"What?"

"Leo began crying in the middle of the night but she never got up to soothe him. When I checked Watson was gone." He speaks in a hushed voice pacing across the bedroom.

"Any telling of where she went?"

"Only a note from her kidnapper. I know who it is."

"Who?"

"Michael. Michael took her." The man had left New York months ago. He'd forewarned his return but according to the note he'd been back for a while, trying and failing to get his attention. If had been paying attention Watson would be here right now slumbering peacefully.

"Gregson and I will be over right away." Within 30 minutes their quaint home was filled with police investigating the disappearance of his partner. He would send Leo away with Oren until they could find her so the child could maintain some semblance of his routine. He was unfit to take care of him alone anyways, much less in his current panicked state.

"No fingerprints, typed note that's not signed, no signs of struggle." Marcus sighs. "Yup fair to say that he's our guy. Thorough as hell."

"How did he even get past you?" Gregson asks. It’s the same question Sherlock had been beating into his head all night long. He'd not heard him enter nor either of them leave. "We'll look over security footage from across the street and see what we can find okay?"

He gives a jerky nod glancing at her empty bed once more. He should have heard something, noticed something.

Oren's shadow lingers in the background as another officer helps him gather a bag for Leo. Remarkably the baby remains fast asleep in his carrier despite the hustle and bustle around him. The older man seems to wait until the detectives part off once again before slowly approaching.

"Well I've got everything I need." Sherlock only nods noting the man's desire to ask questions. Yet he bites his tongue, an action he and his sister share. Just as he's about to leave Sherlock speaks up.

"There's no sign of a struggle."

"What?"

"Evidence points to the fact that Watson is still alive." He visibly relaxes, tension sinking out of his shoulders. "The note also gives us sufficient evidence to tell us who might be behind the kidnapping."

"Good." He nods with a sort of sad smile. "Just... I don't know what I'm going to tell mom."

Sherlock weighs his options for a few breaths. Spreading the word, the panic, that a consultant for the NYPD had been abducted from her own home would hit the news like wildfire. He's already heard Gregson discussing with FBI investigators to help find her. To spread this story any more would give Michael exactly what he wants. He craves the attention. However, to deprive Mary of the news of her daughter, especially in her addled state, is cruel to say the best.

"You'll tell her I'll find her daughter no matter the cost." Sherlock frowns.

"Whatever it takes?" Oren asks, no doubt in his mind tells him that Watson had told him of Sebastian Moran. He knows exactly what Sherlock is capable of in the most egregious of circumstances.

"Whatever it takes."

Please keep in mind I wrote the bulk of this a week ago the day after the ep aired so if stuff contradicts with canon from this week’s that’s why.

#joanlock #sherlock x joan #sherlock holmes x joan watson #Sherlock Holmes #joan watson #elementary #elementary cbs #elementary AU #kidnapping au #tags are tedious

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justauthoring · 6 years

Text

Mistaken - Sherlock Holmes

Prompt: You thought you knew Sherlock, but now, you didn’t know what to believe.

Notes: this wasn’t requested and isn’t really original, but i just finished season two tonight and this idea popped in my mind - i had to write it. please let me know if you liked it!!

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

“Congratulations. The truth on Sherlock Holmes.” You rolled your eyes, unlocking Sherlock’s handcuff as he walked away. Huffing, you helped let John go, sending him a quick smile once he was free. “The scoop that everybody wanted and you’ve got it. Bravo.”

“I gave you your opportunity.” Riley snubbed, narrowing her eyes Sherlock’s way. “I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down.”

Pacing, you stood slightly behind John - your heart was still racing erratically against your chest. This was too much. Too much for handle. For God’s sake you were a fugitive now, on the run with Sherlock and John, and none of you had done anything - at least, you thought. Except, John had punched an executive in the face - but it was prompted!

“And then, lo and behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient.” Sherlock continued, pacing back and forth, before turning to Riley with his brows raised and stopping. “Who is Brook?” Riley shook her head, feigning lack of knowledge, but even you saw straight through her. “Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There were all those furtive little meetings in cafes, those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone.”

You turned to John, watching as he hastily rubbed at his wrists. “You okay?” You whispered when a moment of silent past, and he smiled, nodding quickly.

“How do you know that you can trust him, eh?” Sherlock questioned, no doubt his brain running through and through all the knowledge he had consumed. “A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pocket. What were his credentials?”

You paused as you heard the door opening, spinning around in question before freezing at the sight of who it was. You didn’t know much about anything that was going on, John and Sherlock had elected to keep many secrets from you. The only reason you had found them was you’d bumped into them while they were running from the police - half of you wished you never had. But then you reminded yourself that if you hadn’t, you’d probably had been at home, worried sick.

“Darling, they didn’t have any ground coffee, so I just got normal.”

Now, you weren’t sure - as you mentioned, you were a bit of a amateur in this case - but you believe, that Jim Moriarty had just walked through the door.

His eyes widened at the sight of John and Sherlock, and you paused a moment, stuck in between as Jim backed up against the wall, the bag falling from his hands. “You said that they wouldn’t find me here. You’d said that i’d be safe here.”

“You are safe, Richard.” Riley reassured, standing up. “I’m a witness. He wouldn’t harm you in front of witnesses.”

“Now, hold up a minute,” you finally spoke, holding up your hand. “Did you just say Richard? His name is Jim-”

“Moriarty,” John finished, stepping forward. “So, that’s your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?”

“Of course he’s Richard Brook, there is no Moriarty, there never has been.”

“What the hell is going on here?” You asked, brows furrowing. You eyed Jim warily, taking a step back. “What are you talking about?”

“Look him up,” Riley clarified. “Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty.” Your eyes fell on Sherlock, heart racing with confusion.

“Doctor Watson, I...” Jim stammered, holding up his hands. “I know you’re a good man. Don’t... don’t... don’t hurt me.”

“No, you’re Moriarty!” John suddenly shouted, making you flinch. Turning to the rest of you, he continued; “he’s Moriarty! We’ve met, remember? You were going to blow me up!”

“What?” You screeched, shaking your head. You didn’t understand. Nothing was making sense!

Jim’s breath shook as he took a deep breath in; “i’m sorry. I’m sorry. He paid me. I needed the work. I’m an actor, I was out of work...”

“Will someone answer me?” You all but screamed. Turning to Sherlock, you met his eyes, searching for something. “What is happening? Explain...” You stammered, voice shaking. “Explain! Please!” You’ve known Sherlock for years, but yet, none of this was making any sense. You felt as if you didn’t even know the man standing before you,

You’d shared a bed with the man for God’s sake! Just what was happening?

“I’ll be doing the explaining,” Riley interrupted. “In print. It’s all here.” Handing the documents over to John, you crossed the room, closing your eyes as you walked between both Jim and Sherlock, glancing over John’s shoulder as your eyes scanned the words before you. “Conclusive proof. You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis.”

“Invented him?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Riley nodded, smirking. “Invented all the crimes, actually. And to cap it all, you made up a master villain.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” John exclaimed.

“Ask him, he’s right here!” Riley gestured towards Jim - Richard... “Just ask him. Tell him, Richard.”

“No, for God-sake this man was on trial.”

“Yes, and you paid him.” Riley clarified, her eyes falling on Sherlock. “Paid him to take the rap. Promised you’d rig the jury. Not exactly a West End role, but i’ll bet the money was good. But not so good he didn’t want to sell his story.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turned to Sherlock with watery eyes. Grabbing the sleeve of his coat, you tried to pull his attention on you; “Sherlock...”

He only ignored you.

“I am sorry,’ Jim mumbled. “I am, I am sorry.”

“So, this is the story that you’re going to publish?” John asked. “The big conclusion of it all, Moriarty is an actor?”

“He knows I am. I have proof.” Jim stuttered.

“Yeah?” You questioned, facing Jim. “Then show it.”

“You seem like a nice girl...?-”

“Y/N,” you spat.

“Y/N.” Jim smiled the best he could, taking a step towards you but pausing when Sherlock shifted forward. “I have proof! Show her! Show him! Can you show them something?”

“Yeah, show me something,” John shook his head.

Stepping forward, Riley shuffled through her things before handing you a folder.

“I’m on TV, i’m on kids TV. I’m the Storyteller.” Accepting the folder, you shuffled through it - only seeing exactly what he said. “I’m the Storyteller. It’s on DVD.” You felt your heart race increase with every growing second. “Just tell him,” Jim stammered. “It’s all coming out now. Just tell them. It’s all over. Tell them! Tell them! No-” Your gaze snapped up as you heard Jim screeched, noticing that Sherlock had taken a step forward.

“No! Don’t you touch me. Don’t you lay a finger on me!”

“Stop it,” Sherlock mumbled, shaking his head. “Stop it now!”

You gasped, entire body shaking as you watched Sherlock lunge forward.

“Don’t let him get away!” Sherlock screamed.

“Leave him alone!”

“Sherlock!” You screeched, hands falling on your head as you paced. What the hell... This - This couldn’t be happening.

“Can he do that? Completely change his identity?”

Panting, you followed behind John and Sherlock, your heart still racing.

“Make you the criminal?”

“He’s got my whole life story.” Sherlock spat, shaking his head. “That’s what you do. You sell a big lie.” You fell to a stop behind the two, their words going in one ear and out the other. “You wrap it up in a truth to make it palatable.”

“It’s your word against his.” John huffed, slamming the piece of evidence by his side.

“He’s been sowing doubt into people’s minds for the last twenty-four hours.” Sherlock explained, pacing. “There’s only one thing he needs to do to complete his game and that’s to...” Sherlock paused and you finally clued in, glancing up at him.

“Sherlock?” John called.

“There’s something I need to do.” Sherlock suddenly announced, his back facing you.

“What, can I help?”

“No, on my own.” Sherlock moved to walk forward and you don’t know what possessed you but suddenly you screamed out; “no!” Into the dead of night. John paused, glancing back at you in surprise as Sherlock stopped, back still to you.

Your heart was beating against your chest and you felt as if you could barely breathe. With tears in your eyes, you huffed. “No, you don’t get to go until someone tells me what the hell just happened!” You screeched, throwing your hands up in frustration. A moment of silence passed and still Sherlock didn’t turn to you. “Look at me Sherlock!” Nothing. “Look at me!”

Slowly, he turned, his eyes meeting yours and you glared. “Someone better tell me what’s going on.” You mumbled, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet. Sniffling, you took a step towards Sherlock. “Because right now, all I know is that my boyfriend and his friend are on the run from the police. And that some guy tried to blow you up once! Oh and might I add, that that same guy claims you paid him to do every dirty thing he’s ever done!”

You huffed and no one dared say a thing.

“So tell me right now,” you whispered. “Or... Or - I don’t know what to believe,”

“Oh come on,” John sighed. “You don’t really belie-”

“I don’t know what to believe!” You cried, glaring at John as he fell silent.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself, making your way over to Sherlock. Grabbing ahold of his sleeve, much like you had done inside, you tried to gain his attention. “Sherlock, please... I need you to tell me.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything and you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Sherlock,” you whispered, tears falling. “I love you... and I need you to trust me.”

He hastily ripped his arm from your grasp, turning - and all the same you felt your heart shatter.

“Sherlock!” John called but he was already walking off.

You paused, staring at his back, not know that was the last time you’d see him.

A hand fell on your shoulder; “Y/N?”

“Don’t touch me!” You spat, ripping yourself away from John and stalking off.

The image was burned in your mind.

You didn’t see him that day but you envisioned it and all you felt was guilt.

Staring at his apartment around you, you were sick with guilt and sadness.

Sherlock wasn’t guilty but he died thinking you thought he was a criminal - and that, that you couldn’t live with.

let me know what you thought? please? remember, reblogging always helps!

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