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Okay, so also, one of the things that truly got me into AU crafting and Warhammer40k in general is my own wild head cannon. U wanna hear it? Of course you do. Okay, here is something I totally believe is cannon and u can prove to me otherwise.

She-ra and the Princesses of Power takes place in the WH40k Universe!!!!!

Okay, so allow me to elaborate.

So first off, I was a Shera fan BEFORE I was a warhammer fan, but after I really started to get into warhammer, something clicked.

I was painting some of my first minis when, for background noise, I decided to throw Shera on for the umpteenth time. Then I started to notice it.

Shera is a Scifi x Fantasy series, so there is already a precedent for the two to flow well together. But then u start getting into the workings of Etheria's Archeo-tech.

So let's start with who settled Etheria. We see through holographic projections/recordings along with our two confirmed First Ones in the series (Adora and Mara) that First ones were clearly human or close to humans.

Suspending a little disbelief, and it's not too far a jump to claim that the First Ones were humans from the dark age of technology. Further proof is in the show how powerful and advanced First Ones' tec is! Also, it is extremely valuable as only two to three people can work/manipulate it properly. (Two of those three are hyper intelligent geniuses)

Let's move on to one of my bigger points, the portals.

During season three, Entrapta and Hordac work to get her to retrofit Hordac's tech with First One's tech. This taps into the planetary magic and the integrated (for lack of an in universe term) warp engine. Unfortunately the portal becomes unstable and fucks with time and reality.

Eventually, after removing the "key" from the portal, the planet returns to realspace.

Oh did I forget to mention that up until that point the entire planet and it's moons we're in a nebulous in-between dimension that could only be accessed by a cataclysmic event on the inside or a freak anomaly from the outside.

This then lends credence to my main argument/ claim Adora, She-ra, Princess of Power and guardian of Etheria is a primarch!

Part 1 of ?

Last batch for now, I swear

Okay I don't have the story ready but here's what I've finished so far!!! I did the security breach ones before the Foxy marine at the bottom, there not my best work, but gods were they so fun to make/paint!!!

This all came from me watching Heresy for Hertics on YouTube. He's been taking colour schemes from his childhood (TV characters and such) and painting marines with them.

If u love out of the box colour schemes and fantastic tutorials definitely a must watch/subscribe

Pt 1/2(or three)

Okay I don't have the story ready but here's what I've finished so far!!! I did the security breach ones before the Foxy marine at the bottom, there not my best work, but gods were they so fun to make/paint!!!

This all came from me watching Heresy for Hertics on YouTube. He's been taking colour schemes from his childhood (TV characters and such) and painting marines with them.

If u love out of the box colour schemes and fantastic tutorials definitely a must watch/subscribe

Pt 1/2(or three)

Okay I don't have the story ready but here's what I've finished so far!!! I did the security breach ones before the Foxy marine at the bottom, there not my best work, but gods were they so fun to make/paint!!!

This all came from me watching Heresy for Hertics on YouTube. He's been taking colour schemes from his childhood (TV characters and such) and painting marines with them.

If u love out of the box colour schemes and fantastic tutorials definitely a must watch/subscribe

Pt 1/2(or three)

“I was never really welcome here, was I?”

The darkened study was lined with bookshelves against three of the walls, with a stained-glass window on the far wall from the door providing red, green and blue light across the room in an image of the virgin mother. In front of the window was a desk of polished ebony. The atmosphere in the room was tense enough to cut air, and the man leaning over the desk, short and squat, with white hair and a priest’s frock, laughed bitterly.

“Of course not, you stupid boy. You may have your father’s power, but you have your mother’s naivete.”

The boy, dressed in a white shirt, a leather jacket and blue jeans, looked normal enough, but he was positioning himself to flee if he had to. In his hand he clutched the locket containing the greatest secret his mother had ever kept – one known only to a few. The priest before him was one of them.

“Why? If all this time you meant to kill me then why haven’t you done it?”

The priest drew a cross from his belt and said solemnly, “We weren’t allowed to kill you in the womb. Papal sanction. We weren’t allowed to kill you as an infant – for you seemed normal enough. But as time wore on, I knew your father’s influence would get to you – and that would be our demise. But it seems there is still time to slay you before you betray us. Still time to do the right thing.”

From the door sprinted two younger priests, each gripping one of the boy’s arms. The priest approached, holding the cross at arms-length towards the boy, and drawing from the desk’s top drawer a pistol. He got to within an arm’s length of the boy, and held the gun to the boy’s forehead. “God forgive me for what I’m about to do.” He said coldly, pulling back the hammer of the pistol with his thumb.

It was then, for the first time, in a moment of rage and panic, the boy felt his father’s presence in his soul, and the power within his body. With a shout somewhere between a scream of anger and a growl, the gun was thrown backwards from the priest’s hand, through the stained-glass window that was the only source of light for the room. Clear light poured in through the hole.

Like a surge of adrenaline, great strength and powerful instinct over took the boy, as he threw the two grown men pinning him bodily against the bookshelves on either side of the room, knocking them apart. Books fell on the ground, scattering the floor with ritual literature and apocrypha. The priest backed away, knocking into the front of the desk and holding the cross at arm’s length still, beginning the Litany of the Saints.

At this the boy laughed, a harsh bark that sounded only vaguely human. “Old man,” he said in a guttural tone, different from the voice of the boy who had spoken moments ago. He waved his hand, and the cross flew out of the priest’s hand, into a pile of broken and splintered bookshelves.

He raised his hand, and the priest’s did likewise, gripping himself by the throat. As the boy clenched his fist, the priest gagged and choked as he strangled himself. The priest’s last moments were as pathetic as a dying fish’s, kicking and squirming on the floor as he fought for air. Once the priest had ceased moving, the boy relented, and the strange power faded from him.

The boy looked at what he had done. The dead priest, laying against his own desk, his aged hand still gripping his own throat. Against each wall were another priest, either unconscious or dead, he could not tell.

He went behind the desk and searched through the drawers, finding the things he was looking for. Another pistol, this one set in silver, and a pile of cash. He ran back, out of the room, and into his room in the orphanage. Gathering a bag of clothes, he sighed, and let reality sink in. It really was true. He was… he was…

He looked at the amulet again. Gripping it tight, he slipped it into his pocket. He’d think on that another time. For now, he needed to get far away from here. Once he had as many of his things as he could carry – it wasn’t much, nor, he figured, would much be needed – he ran for the door, and out of the orphanage.

He ran down the street, and didn’t stop running until he had made it across town, to his ‘friend’s’ home. A well-built two-story on the more affluent side of town, he knew his friend could help. He knocked on the door, a steady banging until the person he was looking for answered. “What’s up, Daelyn? You look like you’re… wait, is that… blood?”

Looking down and silently cursing himself, he saw that he did indeed have some small portion of blood on his shirt, from either the priests he sent flying across from the room or somehow from the man he had choke himself to death he did not know. “Zeke, I don’t have time to explain. I need a shirt, and I need to get a fake ID or two. Out of state ones, too.”

Zeke looked scared. As well he should, Daelyn supposed. How would he respond if one of his friends showed up on his doorstep, drenched in sweat and bloodstained.

Zeke looked around the neighborhood, the empty street, and then sighed. “Get in the house, dumbass.”

“I never really was welcome here… was I?”

Captain Rex x GN!Reader {part one}

AN!: Reader is a medic for the 501st and has a fat ass crush on Rex, but of course nobody knows. [at least not yet! ;)] Also, this is my first fic! I'm open to constructive criticism so feel free to lmk if there's more I can improve on! Summary: As transmissions are received, a dire mission is begun to protect the Republic and quite possibly end the war. As assignments are given out your hope sparks up at the chance of a night out with your favorite captain, even if it's just for a mission, you'd be able to be closer than ever with him. word count: 433

Although it was a relatively easy mission, it was dangerous, and you really couldn’t get past the task of it. As the end of the year creeps up on Coruscant, so does the ball. Every year’s end, Coruscant would host a galaxy wide ball, celebrating the victories and positive happenings of the year. But this year would have a change, a masquerade ball with guests, guests who could be anyone.

After a recent mission to Felucia, General Skywalker and Echo had found a way to track Separatist transmissions and somehow the system still goes un-noticed. After monitoring transmissions for what seemed like months, Ahsoka and Barriss had managed to find a transmission between Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress about word of a masquerade ball happening on Coruscant, which would let relatively anyone in. Ahsoka and Barriss immediately caught onto the plan and told the rest of the Jedi Council. Asajj Ventress would be infiltrating the ball, along with another partner, and sabotaging the systems and sending out a full-on attack on Coruscant while the infamous General Grievous would kidnap the chancellor. Due to the severity of the situation the council collectively made the decision to have a few jedi and clones go undercover to stop the ambush. Jedi Quinlan Voss, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Ahsoka Tano would go undercover as attendees to the ball.

General Skywalker and General Kenobi decided to take their best men to go with them, due to their excellent blaster and battle skills, which would come in handy when, if the fight broke out.

As the word of the mission reached the Barracks your body flooded with excitement, then you reminded yourself: you’re just a medic they wouldn’t pick you out of anyone. As General Skywalker Addressed the men you got lost in your thoughts, He was sure to be paired with Ahsoka. After all, they had fought together for ages, so why would you be chosen? General Skywalker and General Kenobi called you over to the war room, where you would be given an assignment. “Wait-‘ you thought. ‘Why am I getting assigned a job? Your heart skipped a beat as you dreamed of the opportunity of going on an undercover mission, let alone with him.

 You entered the war room and saw General Skywalker, General Kenobi, Rex, Fives, Echo, Cody, Waxer, and boil staring at you. You hadn’t realized it, but they sure did. Unknowingly, your cheeks were a perfect lookalike shade of Meiloorun juice, and your face adorned with a bright smile. “Looks like someone ready for the mission. Let’s get started.” Began General Skywalker.

Getting Them Pets! (Part One!)

Kylo Ren: Long ago, you decided to aim for getting something special for him. You had no idea what, so you did some searching and studying, going to different systems and stars to determine what pet would make the best for Kylo. Going out in the middle of the morning to search the planets certainly alarmed Kylo, but upon telling him you were 'gathering researching' on something that heavily interested you, he relaxed.

After an infuriating amount of research, studying and writing, you managed to find something perfect: A dog, a Basenji. Curious, affectionate, intelligent, quiet, alert and low maintenance. Perfect for Kylo. Once you got a male, red in color and small in size, Kylo looked at you. "This is yours?" He asked, his voice perplexed. "Ours." You corrected, a smile on your face as you handed the puppy to your boyfriend. Kylo inspected the dog for a bit, before softening and cradling the dog, his face compassionate and kind. Teary-eyed, he thanked you.

Armitage Hux: How on Earth you managed to convince him of getting a pet? No idea. How did you even get the pet in? A mystery. But you did. A ginger cat, matching his Armitage's ginger hair. Seeing the cat, Armitage looked at you, as if disgusted by the gesture, but you know he would crack. "It's for you, and me." You hand him the kitten and his facade is immediately cracked.

He leans into give you a kiss while holding the precious kitty, the kiss a bit aggressive as he practically mashes your lips together but then it softens and deepens. "I love you." He whispers softly, cherishing you and the cat.

.

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A\N: Part two out Monday! Love you guys <3

So I have a funny au idea… In which Stan may or may not have been temporarily bought by the AXOLOTL (Under the guise of Mx. Lottie) in order to run some entirely ordinary errands… Ford is very confused as to why nobody is totally concerned about his brother’s whereabouts and intends to figure out what happened… Which may or may not involve making a deal with a weird triangle thing. There’s more to it, but that’s basically the gist of it. I think it’s pretty silly. Might make more stuff about this lol. It came to me in a dream lol-

NEXT

ADVENTURE FALLS! Part 1 of chapter 1 done- IN COMIC FORM! Boy, wonder were this goes! (I have it written out I just need to draw it hope you like it- It’s pretty silly. Bit of mystery there… Wonder what could be in the chest… Will post the next part very soon- Hope you enjoyed! Nobody asked but I will provide lol

Hello? Must share, this masterpiece-

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1

(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Next.

“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue —  in front of the Manor’s door. 

He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.

“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.

“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in. 

“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.

The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.

“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.” 

Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian. 

Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side. 

Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.

Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.

“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.

“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”

Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.

“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner. 

“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.

Danny winces with a pained expression.

“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”

“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses. 

“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”

Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.

“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…” 

“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.” 

“You will not go anywhere.” 

Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.

Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat. 

“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply. 

“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”

Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.

“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”

Bruce reels back like he’s been punched. 

“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”

This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow. 

“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”

Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.

He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)

Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own. 

Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again. 

At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow. 

As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.

“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.

“Just a little pit stop.”

Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.

So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now. 

The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.

“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.

Jason knits his eyebrows together. 

“What about Bruce?”

There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B. 

“You are the only one I can trust with this.”

He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.

“What the hell is going on?”

The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.

“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”

“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music. 

He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.

“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”

Jason stays silent.

“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”

Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help. 

“So what’s the plan?”

Dick shoots him a relieved smile.

“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”

“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.

“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.

Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.

They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further. 

“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.

“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone. 

“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”

Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.

“You were the pit stop?” he questions.

“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”

The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.

“You’ve died too, haven't you?”

Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together. 

“And?”

“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”

He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision. 

“They’ll cut you open too.”

It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.

“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”

“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.

“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”

The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.

“How it haunts you.”

Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.

Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.

“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”

Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that. 

Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.

“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”

Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.

“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”

Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.

“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”

“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”

Jason's face scrunches up.

“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?” 

Both Dick and Danny snort. 

“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”

Dick makes a face.

“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”

“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.

Jason stares at them in bafflement. 

“You do know how crazy that sounds?”

“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head

“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.” 

“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.

It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days. 

He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started. 

Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)

Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.

“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.

“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”

“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”

His lips perk into a smirk.

“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”

Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive  — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did. 

Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box. 

“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily. 

“Brat.” 

Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice. 

“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”

Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.

“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.

“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans. 

“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.

“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”

“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.

“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.

Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.  

i have thoughts, small thoughts, but thoughts nonetheless

i think i think theres a lesbian inside javier theres something in him its so ,, lesbian i dont think it wants to get out but the lesbian would think it would be cool if it did! strange...

Chess Queen Part One

Description: Arthur needed a little extra encouragement from Italian Bach to talk to his YouTube crush.

Spending the day on a rainy football field was far from what Y/n thought she would be doing right about now. Not only had it been much too early but she was also sure she'd be soaked by the time filming was over.

Y/n L/n, the newest member of the UK Youtuber World was not alike the others. Rather than pub crawls and football matches. She was known for streaming playing board games or yapping to thousands of fans. Despite being new, she was popular.

"Oh my-!" Y/n heard, her head snapping to see who had been yelling. There she saw Italian Bach, or Isaac as she been told to call him stood with a man's hand slapped across his mouth.

The two stared at eachother, her bringing up a hand to wave, only for the man to take the hand off and jog up to you, leaving a baffled man standing still.

"You're Y/n right!?" She nodded and he continued "Oh my god, your literal biggest fan is my best mate, I'll go grab him"

He ran back over, hauling with him the mam who slapped him. As he got closer you recognised him as Arthurtv, or just Arthur.

"Its Isaac and Arthur right?" She asked once they were close enough. Arthur going bright pink when she pointed at him.

"Yeah, Arthur here is again your biggest fan. He had heart eyes when you played chess the other day" he explained as his friend died next to him

"Ah, so you saw me mercilessly destroy them all" she joked, in actuality she had done decent, able to win every game. She was surprised when he answered

"You did really good!! Probably better than me," He announced. His voice a little louder than he was wanting. Isaac stood next to him, watching on like a proud dad "I play a lot of chess" he admits quieter.

"We will have to play together some time" she smiled, something that made the man short circuit. His ears going pink as he responded meekly.

"Yeah! Uhm..please" He peeped out. You were going to get his contact information when KSI called over the group to start the video.

After filming, the group all sat under a tent as the rain beat down around them. Looking up at the clouds Y/n let out a deep sigh, catching the attention of Arthur.

He was embarrassed to admit it but his eyes never left her. She had even caught him a few times.

"Are you okay?" He asked, catching her sights. She turned to him, her biting her lip

"Yeah, I'm just sort of dreading walking to the train station" she confesses, Isaac popping out of nowhere

"You're out on Berry right?" She nods "well Arthur here lives like 2 blocks away. Why don't you catch a ride with him?"

He claps his hand on Arthur's back, who nods eagerly.

"Would that really be okay? I don't want to put you out" Arthur shakes his head and hands.

"No!! It'd be no trouble at all" Arthur and you start walking out to his car, the whole time you have slightly awkward small talk.

Arthur had so many things he wanted to say to him but didn't know how.

"So, you film alot" she asks "Your film schedule is like double mine" she jokes.

"What can I say? The camera loves me" he wiggles his eyebrows. The two of you sharing a laugh.

As the buildings pass, the awkwardness passed with them. Pulling up to Y/ns address she didn't want the conversation to end. Inviting him in the two ordered dinner and spent the entire night chatting.

It felt calming and fluid, talking to Arthur she felt like herself.

"I should probably get going, George has been spamming me about not being home yet" you giggle and agree.

"I suppose I'll let you go. Can I see you again sometime?" He stutters

"I would be honoured to see you again, I'm holding you to that chess offer"

And so, the two split up. Once alone they both unaware the other was also freaking out.

One thing was for sure, they both had to practice playing chess for when they did play together. Both were determined to win.

i’ve decided to go down a musical rabbit hole and listen to artists i’ve never heard of and then rate them out of ten and explain their style and what i like and dislike about them! note - i will be listening to their most popular song.

first up is Princess Castle by Jazmin Bean featuring Cottontail, I’ve never heard of either artist and I’ve linked the mv for you as well, i will just give a trigger warning for b!00d and swearing. personally the vibe they have is a vibe i would probably love to listen to but to me i don’t understand the lyrics very well (i’m deaf so i probably need to listen a couple times anyway) and something about the effects used in the song makes me feel like its a bit off. i love the clothing style in the mv, though it doesn’t make much sense to me, but i love that its pretty. i started getting into the song after Cottontails part. I love Jazmins green hair. i have nothing against how hectic it is and absolutely nothing against the fashion and makeup style, i love people and artists who dress like that (i do as well a lot). i just don’t think that song was something i like much, but i’ll try out some of their other music in the future! i think this is a solid 5/10 next i'm listening to Galipette by Lolo Zouai, I've heard of her before but never listened, my friend said she has a sort of r&b vibe but also combines it with hiphop and sings in English and French so I'm excited for this one. again, i've linked for you to listen. i actually really like this, its got a really nice flow, the lyrics are quite catchy, minus the swearing i would probably show this to my friends and family. i like how theres about three or four different styles in the mv and i love how sort of...i don't know, she gives off a sort of creepy/disgusting vibe but i love it so much?? 7/10

and now for Why do you love me by Charlotte Lawrence. i did a quick google search and she's actually been on the soundtrack to Birds of Prey, which was a movie about Harley Quinn. i don't remember ever listening to her sooo...here we go. okay wow, halfway through and i've had to pause because this is so good! i really like the style, the beat is amazing, love the lyrics and the premise of the mv is actually really good. okay so it just finished and i'm sort of obsessed. i'm definitely going to listen to more of her music at some point and will recommend to friends and family too cuz she's a really good singer, and as a producer this is the type of song i would love to work on so, i definitely approve lol. i'd give this an 8/10 as so far its definitely the best.

Sleepover with Stretch

Part one for Stretch x Reader! Since the place I had it deleted it or something, I have to rewrite it. But!! Fret not, I have written this as a way to keep things organized and to allow me to place the writing in parts. Please enjoy!

It had taken ages for him to get ready to come over, especially since he had to sneak out of the house. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Rus, Cash, or Coffee to join, but he knew that recently you’ve been feeling overwhelmed. You usually visit the house to see him and the others, but the other day he remembered you offering a sleepover at your house. Of course, he was about to call the others to see if they wanted to join, but he was abruptly cut off when you threw a pillow at his face. You just wanted…him. Just him. And you. Together. Alone. Hah. Hahaha. Stretch had to bury his face in the giant bumblebee plushie he got from you when you left because he couldn’t snuff out the blush on his skull when it registered that you were specifically just wanting him to come over.

The poor skeleton had to mull over and analyze why you only wanted him, but he couldn’t come up with any rational idea, especially since he had a big fat crush on you and felt too embarrassed at any idea he had. Still, he packed his bags and was able to sneak out yesterday to the convenience store for quick and easy snacks the two of you could share. He debated getting his favorite pocky, but he thought better of it the moment he thought about it for longer than two seconds. Now here he was in his bedroom, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he checked the time on his phone. Everything has gone smoothly, and he was going over each item in his mind just to make double sure of what he needed. He packed the snacks, he packed his pajamas, his toothbrush, his Nintendo for Mario Kart, and he even packed his favorite stuffed animal, the bumblebee you bought him. So far, he hasn’t forgotten anything!

Well, he couldn’t plan the intruder teleporting past his door and straight into his room. “Hey, Stretch, Powder was wonderin’ if-” Ah, yeah, that’s going to interrupt his plans. He didn’t even have time to throw his bag into his closet at a cartoonish pace, nor did he have time to teleport the moment he registered the tall and imposing figure that was Rus. His eyes darted up to meet his stare, the other skeleton’s eyes widened and his jaw parted mid-sentence.

“...”

“.....”

“.......”

“.......................uhm-”

“Are ya goin 'somewhere?”

The question was simple, but it caused Stretch to start sweating. Play stupid, idiot!! “....no…?” “...no?” Not that stupid!!! He wanted to slap himself, but it was too late. Rus carefully analyzed him from the top of his skull to the bag that was slung over his back. He could see Rus putting two and two together as he looked down at his phone where he could easily see the text messages between you and Stretch. He carefully pulled his own phone out, and Stretch just stood still as Rus took a picture. Only when Stretch heard the click did he react. Almost desperately, he reached forward and grabbed Rus by his shoulders as his phalanges dug into the thick material of his black coat. “Rus, Rus please-” “Where ya goin?”

“Rus, look- please don’t do this-” “Are ya runnin’ away?” He saw how Rus seemed to be judging his way of packing as he asked that. “What? No, I-” “A sleepover?” Rus took his phone away from Stretch’s reach as he pathetically tried to grab it from him. Only at hitting the right target did Stretch slump forward in defeat. “...Maybe,” He finally admitted, his voice turning softer as his nerves increased. Rus didn’t say anything for a moment, at least not until he said your name. “Huh?” “Is that who’re gonna go see?” He at least had the decency to ask, even if it was obvious. Stretch, like the other Papyri variants similar to him, struggled making friends. Especially ones that would have a sleepover with him. He nodded at the question, and Rus seemed to be debating on what to say next. Rus placed his phone in his pocket before sliding his hands in his jacket and looking around his room. Rus took a few steps towards his desk placed beside his bed, only to carefully grab Stretch’s camera and handing it to him.

“Okay.” “Okay? Stretch took his camera with both of his hands absentmindedly, tilting his head to the side when Rus decided to look at him again. “Yeah. Make sure to take some pictures. Ya can hang em up on yer board over there,” He raised his hand to the bulletin board Stretch put up a few months ago over his drawing desk. Stretch glanced back at him, nodding his head slowly but with uncertainty. “You're right, that sounds like a good idea!” He grinned, but he still didn’t understand why Rus was being so relaxed about this. “But…you’re not going to tell the others, are you?”

He saw the way Rus shrugged his shoulders carelessly, making a noncommittal grunt. “Nah, you’re allowed to spend time with ‘em alone, that ain’t my business.” Stretch narrowed his eyes at him, which only made Rus look away casually. Aha! He pointed at him accusingly, knowing full well that he was their tell tale sign that he wasn’t telling him the full truth. “Then why did you take a picture?” He shouted, but not too loudly. Rus grinned mischievously, his eye sockets crinkling slightly. “That was just black mail, is all…” "Blackmail?! Rus, Rus I thought you were my friend!" "I am," Rus was chuckling now, placing a hand over his mouth. Stretch was about to rant about his utter betrayal, but that glint in Rus' eyes told him what Rus wasn't sharing. "...What do you want?” Rus placed his hands up in mock defeat, smiling even bigger now as he tilted his at him and turned away towards the door. “I’ll find something ta get ya to pay me back with, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me,” “Rus! Rus I swear to-” But it was too late. Rus teleported out of the room as quickly as he had arrived, his small nyeh-heh-heh a mocking reminder that Rus knew his secret sleepover.

Stretch grumbled under his breath, placing his hands over his face as he tried to collect his composure. Hey, at least he knows Rus won’t tell the others, right? Ugh…He doesn’t know how Rus is going to get him to do him a favor in return, but at least it wasn’t Cash that ran into him. Cash was horrible about his blackmail, that awful prune. He was friends with the both of them though, so he knew that they would both be a little bit more merciful towards him. Right? Right?? Wait, wait wait wait. Stretch straightened up, jerking his head towards the door as he set his bag down for a few moments. Rus came in here because his brother wanted to know something. “Rus-! What did Powder want to kn- Oh you know what, forget it! Powder-!!”

It looks like he's going to be a little late to the sleepover...

“Why won’t you choose me?”

john marston x f!reader

summary !!!! — you’re johns side chick but you’re getting pretty tired of it so you tell john u or abi.. unfortunately he won’t leave his wife for you.

warnings !: smut at the first part (not rlly smut srryyyy) mostly just angst, johns gets drunk for a lil lol and a stinky cheater lol……. I think thatst it !!! ^_^ enjoyyy 😴😴

i feel so bad for abi in this :c i love her smm ill make her smth soon !!

this is kinda short so i do apologize !! i don’t have time to make it longer :((

—

"Thank you, sweetheart. I needed this." John pressed his forehead against yours, the glimmer of sweat and the lingering scent of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils. Cupping your hips with his calloused hands, sliding his length out of your throbbing hole. You let out a whiny moan at the loss feeling of him inside of you.

"I know — I know, I’ll see you later?" John responded, you sighed softly. John was attempting to urge you to leave his tent quickly due to the rising tension within him. Johns heart was racing at the thought of his wife, Abigail, approaching his tent and finding you half naked in Johns tent as his cum rested on your chest. He personally never cared for aftercare, not with you. You were just something to get his stress out. John quickly grabbed a rag and began rubbing off the mess off of you, burying the rag deep in his pocket, making a mental note to throw it away later.

"John.. I, er — can we talk about this? I don’t —" Your sentence was cut short by John's abrupt intervention, as he hastily shoved you out of the tent. Without giving you a chance to speak, John rushed around, frantically tidying up the cot, completely ignoring your presence.

—

Another heated argument erupted between John and Abigail, yet this one was worse for the both of you. Abigail was growing more suspicious with each passing moment, she began questioning the mysterious marks resting on John's neck. The outlaw was at a loss for words, utterly incapable of formulating a believable lie.

“It’s nothin’ Abigail.. just — quit it,” John attempted to pacify Abigail with a gentle rub of her shoulders, his free hand attempting to conceal most of the marks on his neck from her view by making his jacket cover most. She was unwilling to listen to those lies, growing tired of his bullshit and storming off. Johns hands slapped on his face, sighing frustratedly.

John could feel your gaze drilling into his skull, even after he strolled away into his tent. His temper had reached its limit, the pressure of his situation piling up on him as he responded in his usual brash manner. "What? I ain’t in the mood to deal with you either," he scoffed, spinning on his heel and storming off. A shiny bottle was held tightly in his hand, the contents inside indicating his desire for a brief escape from reality.

You never understood Johns relationship with Abigail. Nobody did. Not even John himself.

—

"I'm getting real sick of that attitude," you huffed, hovering above John as he lay flat on his back on the ground. He laughed drunkenly, his words barely intelligible as the alcohol took over his mind. "Why does it matter to you?" John laughed out a response, his words slurred and his speech already incoherent.

"Abigail or me." You firmly demanded, clearly frustrated by John's attitude. The outlaw's drunken wheezing laughter suddenly came to a halt, his sudden shift in expression making it clear he was getting angry. He propped himself up, his voice still slurred. "Are you serious..?" he uttered, his voice growing increasingly furious as he stared you down, his gaze burning into you.

John responded immediately, the words falling from his tongue without a second thought. "I'm not leaving my wife." He spoke through clenched teeth, taking a swig out of his beer before tossing the remainder onto the ground. The bottle broke into numerous shards on the ground, the sharp noise reverberating all throughout the encampment. You listened to him with a sinking heart, but a deep part of you knew his words to be true. You had dared to dream, wanting to believe that he would choose you, oh, how wrong you were.

"You don't love me?" You asked, your voice full of a deep sense of heartbreak and longing. John kept silent, refusing to answer your question, which gave you a clear hint at how he felt. He eventually muttered out a half-hearted "Sorry." before stumbling away, turning his back to you as you remained speechless, your eyes already filled with tears.

—

Everything has become different, John's behavior in contrast to his previous behavior indicating that something had fundamentally shifted in his attitude. He refused to even glance at you, never acknowledging your existence as he put all of his attention towards his wife. The attention he gave her was all the affection and care you'd desired, the sweet love and affection you yearned for. You could no longer help but feel the sting of jealously in your heart, envious of Abigail's privileged position and wishing you could be in her shoes.

You went to sit beside him, offering a small smile in a futile attempt at garnering his attention. However, he simply stood up and walked away, heading towards his shared tent with Abigail and leaving you in the chilly air alone once again. His indifference towards you only served to deepen your sadness, the tears filling up once more as the painful realization set in.

Why would you even think he would choose you?

teehee🙈🙈

“Pretty flowers?”

arthur morgan x female reader !!!

no smut, fluff, flustered arthur, barely put any work in this ^_^

—

Arthur entered Saint Denis and began to walk around aimlessly, the atmosphere of the town leaving a foul impression on him. He despised it with a burning passion, yet the memory of your conversation and your love for flowers prompted him to overcome that distaste and set off to find those pretty flowers you enjoyed.

After countless hours of strolling, Arthur managed to find an exquisite bouquet of flowers in a store, their sweet and pleasant aroma filling his sense of smell with each breath while the bouquet caught his attention with its beauty. Arthur cared nothing for the exorbitant price of the flowers. The thought of your sweet smile was more important to Arthur than money could ever be, and he felt content with making this small sacrifice to see you happy.

—

Arthur cradled the bouquet of flowers in his hands as he walked out the store, “I hope she’ll like em..” Arthur muttered under his breath. He gave the petals a light caress with the pads of his fingertips. He hoped you would immediately fall in love him and just ask to marry him on the spot. His attention remained focused solely on the flowers, causing him to accidentally bump into his horse. The horse was startled and let out a small huff in response.

“Ah, ‘m sorry, boah.” Arthur stuffed his hand in his satchel and pulled out an oatcake, feeding his horse. Arthur showed the horse the flowers with the intention of eliciting its reaction. The horse simply sniffed the flowers before going back to its usual duties, providing no discernable reaction.

Arthur's anxiety took the helm of his emotions once more, causing his frustration to bubble up in his chest. His uncertainty only further fueled his anxiety, as he awaited your reaction with mounting concern.

The horse began galloping back to camp. Arthur was completely immersed in his thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything outside your presence in his mind. He paid no mind to his horse or where it was headed, his attention only on the thought of you at camp. Every little gesture you displayed made his heart swell with happiness, yet he had yet to notice his horse heading the wrong way..

The horse let out a startling whine in response to the sudden gunshot, bucking Arthur off its back and causing him to tumble into the dirt. The bouquet was now covered in mud, its beauty tarnished and its fragrance muted. Arthur's careless movements as he rolled in the dirt caused the bouquet to get crushed underneath him, the flowers trampled in the result.

“Shit..” Arthur was overwhelmed by feelings of humiliation after noticing the state of the bouquet, disappointed that he would be presenting you with such messy and ruined flowers. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of laughter coming from afar, prompting him to hastily duck behind a tree and hide from view, Arthur stuffed the flowers into his satchel. He cautiously observed his surroundings, scanning for the sound with rising concern.

O'Driscolls filled up the camp, their boisterous laughter and the clink of beer bottles filling the atmosphere. The gang members did not care about being quiet, as their behavior was rather outlandish and chaotic, their lack of concern for noise apparent to Arthur.

Arthur leaned down, reaching for his shiny revolver and firing numerous rounds towards the men, his anger evident from his sharp and abrupt shooting. Each O’Driscoll tried putting up their best shot but died one by one. Arthur’s arm flew up to his head, wiping the sweat dribbling off his forehead. Putting his two fingers in his mouth and began whistling for his horse. His horse soon turned up, nuzzling its face into Arthur’s calloused palms.

“Awhhh, it’s alright, boah.” Arthur was quick to dismiss his horse's actions, forgiving its small misdoings without second thought. Even if the horse made a bigger mistake, Arthur would still be quick to forgive it.

"Let's head home," he stated softly, putting his revolver away and beginning to move away from the area, staring down at the torn flowers resting in his satchel.

—

Finally returning to camp after the encounter with the O'Driscolls, Arthur was greeted by several gang members with a few smiles and familiar greetings. However, when Arthur's gaze met yours, seeing that soft smile you gave him, he was filled with a blend of emotions. His throat tightened as he swallowed the lump down, the sweat beading down his body the physical manifestation of his anxiety.

This was the moment Arthur had dreaded, yet he couldn't back out now. He attempted to wipe off most of the mud on his body but it failed miserably, just getting it more on his pants. Arthur grew annoyed but with a deep breath, he summoned all of his courage and approached you, digging the crushed flowers out of the satchel with his shaking hand. His hand slowly stretched outward, attempting to offer you the pitiful bouquet.

“For you..” Arthur's voice was barely audible, seemingly unable to hold his ground and meet your gaze as he attempted to offer you the pathetic bouquet. The crushed flowers were the only remnants of the beautiful bouquet Arthur had once envisioned, and the sight made him feel deeply embarrassed. He remained staring at the ground with an intense stare as he waited for your response.

"What happened to them?" Your soft and concerned voice greeted Arthur's ears, eliciting a wave of shame and frustration. He felt mortified by his appearance, your reaction to him a painful reminder of the unfortunate incident that brought about the crushed bouquet.

"They.. were like this when I first got em," Arthur lied quickly, he was a terrible liar but he didn’t wanna tell you the true story. You would’ve laughed in his face. taking a deep breath. His gaze remained fixed on the ground while his body visibly tensed up from the embarrassment.

“Oh, what a shame.” You sighed softly, knowing Arthur was attempting to cover up the truth, but you were unwilling to pursue the matter any further. Your gaze found his blushing cheeks, your heart warming at the thought of him trying to get you a gift. It was an unexpected sight, seeing the ‘rough n tough outlaw’ so flustered and embarrassed as he attempted to give you the crushed bouquet. You took it in your hands, smiling at the sight.

“I know it’s not pretty —“ Arthur scratched the back of his neck. He began speaking but you interrupted him quickly.

“I love them.” You smiled, kissing his cheek.

(most of a test than anything ^_^) !!! i put no effort into this whatsoever !

FLUFF, NO SMUT !!!

arthur morgan x reader ! (no gender <3)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You applied the ice pack on Arthur's bruised eye, eliciting a groan of discomfort from him, “I said I was sorry!—“ Arthur began before you interrupted him. “shut it, Morgan.” You groaned in annoyance, the urge to slap him in his face grew. Arthur appeared somewhat annoyed by the fact that you interrupted his apology, as he attempted to offer you one before you rebuked him.

Despite his irritation, Arthur tried his best to maintain a small smile, although it turned out looking more amusing than endearing. You couldn't contain yourself and suppressed a giggle that was eager to erupt from your lips. Finally, you leaned close and kissed Arthur's stubble, eliciting a blush from him.

“Dummy.”

—

again, this was just a test !!! :3 love yaa 💗💗

There are only a few things I won’t stand for in hp fanfiction, but goddamn it, it infuriates me when I see it! As follow:

a) Severitus. Anything in which Severus Snape, the disgrace of the Wizarding World, is even remotely nice and/or supporting and/or decent. It stinks. He’s the worst. Let’s not pretend he’s not shit at everything except evilness. Make this stop.

b) Drarry? What the Hell? In what universe would Harry Potter be romantically interested in a nasty, jealous bigot that has done nothing but torment him and insult his friends? What kind of hipster mating ritual is that? Why would he even want anything to do with the son of the man that facilitated the opening of the Chamber of Secrets? The same man that willingly served Voldemort? That thought Harry’s mother and Hermione were scum? Who passed down his beliefs to his son? The son who, at twelve years old, gloated about how the muggleborns at his school were going to be petrified? Who wanted to have a clearly intelligent animal put down because he couldn’t listen to his teacher’s instructions? Draco Malfoy is the racist rich frat boy of Hogwarts and he would’ve voted for Trump and you will never convince me that garbage kid would ever amount to anything good.

c) Petunia secretly loving Harry or anything that even suggest the Dursleys were under a spell. Ok, there’s like this theory that since Harry is a Horcrux, the Duesley could have been influenced by it like Ron was and that’s why they were hippopotamus dung. I don’t buy it. In the Philosopher’s Stone’s beginning, we follow the Dursleys in the first of November for the day. And not only McGonagall describes them as horrible people, we also have a rundown of their opinions about several stuff, including what they think about magic and the Potters, which is nothing good. And that’s a full day before Petunia finds Harry at her doorstep, so they can’t have been influenced by the Horcrux at all. And then there’s the fact that, when Ron had it, he was only affected by it until he left. When he came back, he said he had wanted to come back as soon as he left. If the effect of a Horcrux ends when the person is not in the vicinity of it, then how are the Dursleys not kinder to Harry after he spends TEN MONTHS OF THE YEAR at school and other people’s houses? How come Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus, all sleeping in the same dorm as Harry, are not affected? Or Hermione? As for Petunia being only pretending to hate Harry, she sure is a great actress, hiting him in the head with frying pans and talking shit about his parents. Because her pretending about all that stuff without ever giving Harry a kind word sure makes the physical and psychological child abuse so much better and acceptable. Not.

d) Remus being a great “uncle” and loving Harry as his son or something. Also known as “if I ever have to read Remus calling Harry his cub and saying he is pack again, I don’t know what I’ll do but it’ll be bad”. People. Please. Unless this is a pre-Hogwarts AU in which Remus’ behavior is different, that’s bullshit. Motherfucker was probably aware of Lily and Petunia’s relationship status. Dude was lounging around wherever he was, probably unemployed, for twelve years and didn’t bother writing a single goddamn letter to his dead friend’s son. A friend that risked expulsion and prison time to become an illegal man-deer to help him with his lycantrophy problem. Something I’m guessing most people wouldn’t have done. Now I’m not saying it’s Lupin’s job to do that. He was under no obligation except that it would have been considerate. The only thing I hold against him is not telling Harry about his friendship with James when he taught defence. That was a dick move. Because if anyone deserved to know he and his father were friends with an allegedly dangerous convict hell bent on killing him to avenge his fallen cult master, it was Harry. And considering that Harry straight up ASKED, it was a super dick move of Remus not to tell him. But the point is, Remus was never involved in Harry’s life. He didn’t write him before Hogwarts, he didn’t visit. Considering how the Order was able to follow Harry around, it’s more or less safe to say there was no wards repelling magical people around Privet Drive. But he didn’t go, he didn’t write, not even a birthday card. Not before he was a teacher and not after. He wasn’t involved. He kept his distance. And that was fine, I guess, it wasn’t his job to do that, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t like or respects Harry, but it does not a family makes. Makes this pack shit stop, if Harry was so important to him, he would have been in touch. It’s not like apparition costs money. “Oh” you’ll say, “but Remus is a werewolf, he was afraid of hurting Harry”. That’s a shit excuse. The only way he could hurt Harry by being a werewolf was if he was stupid enough to show up at his doorstep on a full moon, two minutes before transforming, something he knows not to do. Otherwise he has to consciously want to hurt Harry, as a wizard. And quite honestly, if Remus Lupin went about his life constantly afraid of hurting people when not on the full moon or having any reason to think he would, he had no business going to the farmer’s market, let alone teaching at a boarding school. So, no excuse. He just didn’t have that relationship with Harry. Which is fine. I just can’t stand when people disregard all of his actions and pretend like he did.

e) Daphne Greegrass. That’s it. I hate that character in fanfiction. It’s the worst. All the Slytherins are a bunch of childish bullies but somehow every single fic with Daphne she’s this girl with the personality of a Martial Arts Dragon Lady that never shows pain (or any emotion) and it’s superior to everyone else. And she has that stupid nickname “The Ice Queen of Slytherin”. And she’s a shit character. I don’t even think she had a line in any book? She’s the Blaise Zabini of the Slytherin girls, except Blaise has different personalities in fanfiction. Can we kill this fucking trend?

Not exactly emotionless...

Rating how comfortable all the beds in botw look

PART ONE

Quick side note - tysm for all the likes, I appreciate it very much. To put how I feel right now into words, I would say that I feel like a silly little court jester who has done a silly little dance and now people like me

Shrine Of Resurrection

2/10 - would NOT recommend

◍All that fog in the beginning of the game is just condensation

◍looks like it's made for one specific height

◍ain't nobody over 5'3 fitting in there

◍no way that water isn't FREEZING cold after 100 years

◍how am I supposed to be the Hero Of Hyrule™ if I'm sleeping in cold water??

Uh oh hero of Hyrule caught a cold better tell ganon to take a week off terrorising everyone ig

◍at least the coldness would wake me up

Old Man's House

1/10 - would NEVER recommend

◍Lumpy "mattress"

◍the blanket looks so thin that an A4 piece of paper would be more warm

◍At least rhoam tried

But tbh the tried and fell like a cartoon character slipping on a comically placed banana peel

Hateno Village Bed

8/10 - would recommend

◍Looks like it would keep me warm on a cold rainy day

◍Sturdy and reliable bedframe

◍Cute and fresh bedsheets

Link's House Bed

5/10 - would recommend but at your own risk

◍cozy looking

◍Does not smell the best

You gotta think about how many times link has gone to bed without taking a bath (if he even does) and if he takes his dirty and/or sweaty armour off when he goes to bed (which I don't think he does tbh)

◍Cute bedsheets

◍Again, sturdy and reliable bedframe

◍Link might kill you if he catches you tho

Purah's Bed

7/10 -would recommend if you're small

◍Extra bouncy and fluffy bedsheets

◍tbh I really like the frilly edges

◍comfy as hell

◍Will have Purah asking you to leave tho

Goron City Bed

2/10 - wouldn't recommend

◍this looks like it's the root cause of back problems

◍yk that goron that has u get his ibuprofen bc of his back?? This is why

◍Can't smell bad cause the only thing u would be able to smell is ur burning nose hair

Tarrey Town Bed

7/10 - would recommend

◍Comfortable? Yes. Cozy? Not so much

I know that they're the same word but in my mind, there's a clear distinction between comfortable and cozy

◍cool and fresh bedsheets

◍bed would move if you did something tho, so not sturdy or reliable, it's literally just stacked planks of wood

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Hello! I am back! I wrote a completely new Alternate Universe that... I don’t think it’s ever been done before. This is only part one of many.

So this is my baby. I love it dearly. Please enjoy with me.

If you don’t want to read the full thing here, you can find it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105458

***

Why are there so many songs about rainbows And what’s on the other side — Rainbow Connection

As far as Lance was concerned, there was only one side to a rainbow.

At least, that was what he had been taught. You see, he’d grown up on the one side of the rainbow - the one with the light and the color and the beautiful arches stretching over the city, as far as the eye could see. He lived in a city with buildings made of crystal, made for light to refract off them and fill the world with color.

The people themselves were bathed in color - dressed in beautifully colored clothes that complimented their rich and luxurious skin tones, hair that caught the beautiful colors of their world and took it as their own. Their eyes were luminous and their smiles bright. It was as though whatever had created them had harnessed the sun and the colors of the rainbow it had made their home to write them into being.

They learned in school about how to take these colors and put them to use; how to harness the power they’d been gifted and use it to better the world around them. Lance had chosen blue. It was the sweetest of the colors, cool and refreshing. They used it on the bodies of water around them, purifying and healing with it. Many citizens who wielded blue became nurses or midwives or caretakers. They were sweet and gentle and curious beings.

This curiosity was both a blessing and a curse. It often got Lance into trouble as a child. When he got older, he sated his curiosities with the vast collection of books in the city library and archives. He also went on excursions past the city lines when it got to be too much, but nobody knew about those. Not even his best friends.

But after he’d read all of the books he could get his hands on, after he’d learned about the same things in a hundred different ways in a hundred different author’s words - Lance got bored again.

It wasn’t until one specific librarian had noticed him sulking in the stacks that he had been given one particular book.

This was the day Lance McClain’s life changed.

***

“You really shouldn’t do this, Lance.” Hunk hisses for the third time that afternoon.

“Yeah, you said that.” Lance rolls his eyes, looking over at the yellow wielder. Hunk was nervously folding Lance’s basket of unattended clean clothes. He tended to fuss when he was anxious.

“I think it’s cool.” Pidge pipes up from where she was lounging on his bed. The green wielder was scrolling through her datapad.

“We don’t even know if what that book said was true - it’s a hundred years old!” Hunk insists. “I’m almost certain that it’s just some elaborate plan to kidnap unsuspecting victims!”

Lance rolls his eyes, packing a water bottle into his backpack and zipping it closed. “And what if it is true?” He challenges. “If it’s true, then there’s a whole other world beyond the borders of our city! I want to see it.”

“Of all things, why did you have to be blue?” Hunk bemoans, folding a shirt a little too aggressively. Pidge snorts.

“I’ll be back before school tomorrow.” Lance huffs. “And remember - I’m sleeping over at your house, Hunk.” He winks. “Bye!”

“Please be careful!” Hunks calls after him as he slides out the window.

“Bring me pictures!” Pidge hollers after him.

Lance grins, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading toward the setting sun.

***

There are rumors of a place far beyond our borders — a place devoid of light and color and beauty. I have only heard of it twice, in hushed conversations and fearful whispers behind closed doors. Those who know of it call it the Monochrome, or the other side of the Rainbow.

It is said to be a place where the evil are cast out, but there is no evidence of this. I have looked extensively into our justice system, and there is no sign of anyone ever coming close to sending people there. It would be considered inhumane in our leader’s eyes.

Although many people seem to be afraid of it, I have not heard of any threats or worrying behaviour from the Monochrome and its people. As the devout scientist and explorer I claim to be, it is my duty to not only find this place, but learn everything I can about it and its people.

Wish me luck.

— Dr. C. Wimbleton-Smythe, Over the Rainbow

***

As the light faded from the sky, drained from vivid golds and pinks and oranges and replaced with silver and gold and navy of the richest kind, Lance found himself venturing farther from the city than he had ever been before. It was thrilling, but he couldn’t decide if that was a good feeling or not. He knew his mother was going to kill him if she caught wind of what he was doing, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

He wasn’t paying much attention to the things around him. Or he didn’t until he realized that the colors of the sky were duller than they had been minutes ago. Upon closer inspection, he realizes that the color around him was fading. Muting itself. He looked down at his own skin, at his own clothes, and felt oddly out of place. He seemed a little too bright, a little too intense for this place.

Lance stops in a clearing in the trees, looking around. The ground drained from a muted green to a dull, drab grey. It bled into the trees, into the sky, into the land that stretched for miles before him. It doesn’t even occur to Lance to take the pictures Pidge wanted.

The color was gone, replaced with shades of grey and blacks and whites. Lance pulls out the journal he’d been given by the library, grinning and leafing through to the bookmark he’d left.

“The Monochrome.” He breathes, his fingers brushing over the yellowing pages.

“What are you doing here?”

The journal snaps shut between Lance’s hands and he jumps, whirling around to look at… a boy.

Well, not exactly a boy, he looked to be about Lance’s age. But that was where the resemblance stopped.

He was shorter than Lance, his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed. His stance was defensive, his lips turned downward in a scowl. He looked angry, but that’s not why Lance found that he couldn’t breathe.

This boy was breathtaking in a way that Lance had never seen before. His skin was pale and unblemished, almost glowing in the dim moonlight. His hair was the color of ink, looping around his face in soft waves that brushed against sharp cheekbones.

Lance couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes. He guessed they were some form of grey, because they were softer than the rest of his features, however wary and angry they were.

“Uh…” He chokes, after he remembers to breathe. What did he say to someone who looked so different yet also made Lance’s heart thump hard in his chest?

“What,” the boy repeats, stepping closer toward Lance. “Are you doing here?”

“I’m exploring.” Lance declares after he’d gathered his wits about him. “I read about this place in a book - I thought it wasn’t real! But, wow, look- it is! You’re real! Wait till Pidge hears about this, she’s gonna be so psyched! Can I take your picture?”

The Monochrome boy gives him an incredulous look, some of the defensiveness draining from his posture. “Excuse me?”

Lance grins, then extends a hand. “Hi, I’m Lance. I’m a big fan.”

His eyes flick from Lance’s hand to his face, uncertainty flickering across his face. He takes a step forward after a while, reaching forward and taking his hand.

The Monochrome boys touch is… well, normal. Lance wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting. Cold? Calluses, maybe? Anything but the soft, warm grip that slid into his own, shaking his hand firmly. It’s gone as soon as it had come.

“Uh… Keith. I’m Keith.” He - Keith - says, the wariness giving way to confused curiosity. “What… are you doing here?”

“Exploring.” He says, holding the journal aloft. “So you guys aren’t a myth. There’s more than one of you, right?”

The apprehension is back. Keith edges away, picking at the hem of his shirt. “Why do you wanna know?” He asks, his expression pinched. “You aren’t a spy, are you?”

“What?” He blinks, looking down at his vibrantly colored self. “No! Besides, if I was, I would be the worst spy in the world. I don’t fit in here at all.”

Keith relaxes again, smiling faintly. How Lance — or anyone, for that matter — could have thought these people were cold and threatening was beyond him. Keith had the nicest smile he’d ever seen.

“No,” the Monochrome boy concedes. “I guess you don’t.”

The two of them stand in awkward silence for a moment before Keith clears his throat. “Well. It was nice to meet you, Lance, but I should…”

“Can I come back?” Lance interrupts, blushing faintly. “I mean… I know it’s probably weird I’m here. But nobody knows you exist! Or… I don’t think that anyone does.”

Keith smiles faintly, tilting his head to the side. “Why are you so interested in my people?”

Lance thinks about this a moment, brushing his fingers over the old, leather bound book that had taken him this far and brought him to Keith. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d come, let alone why he was so interested. There was just something about Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe’s genuine curiosity that had resonated with Lance.

He wanted to prove that these people were worth knowing about. Nobody deserved to be a long-forgotten myth. Especially not when they still existed.

So he answers honestly. “I’m not sure yet. But I’d like to find out.”

This makes Keith give him a wide, crooked smile. Lance finds he’d like to document that smile. “Okay.” The Monochrome boy agrees. “You can come back.”

“Thank you.” Lance breathes. “I can’t- thank you. Tomorrow? Here?”

“Tomorrow,” Keith agrees, tucking his ebony hair behind his ear, a hint of that smile tugging at his lips. “Here.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Lance grins. “Bye, Keith.”

“Goodbye, Lance.”

***

I have reached the part where our two worlds collide. The color has faded, like something has sucked the vibrancy away from this stretch of land. At first I thought it may be sick, but upon closer inspection, the foliage seems to be in peak condition.

This is a phenomenon that I have never seen before, and I can only hope to meet someone from this land who may explain it to me. That said, I have decided to stay on the edge of this land, in case these people are as hostile as they have been proclaimed to be.

I am optimistic and hopeful toward the future of my research and adventures.

— Dr. C. Wimbleton-Smythe, Over the Rainbow

***

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” Pidge scoffs the next day at school, leaning back in her seat and munching on her sandwich. It was one of the rare times she wasn’t typing away at her screen.

“I told you,” Lance groans. “I forgot! Plus he didn’t seem like the type who would’ve wanted his picture taken. I was being respectful!”

“It was safe though, right?” Hunk worries, not even blinking when Pidge reaches over and takes a handful of his chips. “He didn’t seem… I dunno, aggressive?”

“What? No! No, he was… Well, I mean, he was worried at first. But he was nice!”

“Did he seriously not have any color?” Pidge leans forward, her hazel eyes intense. “Like - just black and white? Like one of those weird pictures they keep in the museums?”

“Weird… pictures? Museum?” Lance blinks.

Pidge nods, pulling back and giving him a bored look. “Yeah, like the ones nobody goes to anymore? They have this weird section with black and white pictures.”

Weird pictures. Weird black and white pictures. As far as he knew, the cameras here had never been black and white. Maybe… maybe-

“Pidge, I need you to take me to the museum. Right now.”

“Now?” She asks incredulously. “Right now? In the middle of lunch?”

“In the middle of school?” Hunk yelps.

“Yes!” Lance springs out of his chair, packing up his bag haphazardly. “Right now, I have to go!”

“This journal is making you crazy.” Hunk says warily. Pidge only heaves a frustrated sigh, grudgingly packing her own bags. “Fine. But if I fail chemistry, it’s all your fault.”

“I can live with that. Now come on!”

***

The museum desk clerk looked bored out of her mind when she gave them their passes. “The exhibit is that way.” She points, popping her gum and tossing her bright pink hair over her shoulder. “Have a wonderful day.”

“Come on!” Lance walks as fast as he could, his long legs eating up the ground under him and basically leaving his friends behind. Which seemed to be fine with them; they were going to explore other places of the near-empty museum.

Sure enough, the black and white exhibit was tiny, but it was there. And right before the hall, there was a massive portrait and a plaque that read; This Exhibit was Founded by the Research of Doctor Coran Wimbleton-Smythe.

The man was a regal, expressive creature, with wild orange hair and an impressive mustache. He had a wide smile, mirth and wisdom twinkling in his blue eyes. He looked like he had seen the world and found beauty in all of it. Even in the Monochrome.

A thrill runs through Lance. He wanted to be just like Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe.

With a reverent, hopeful breath, Lance walks into the room that had long since been forgotten and looked over.

The walls held big black and white pictures, full of life despite the colorlessness. Coran seemed to be in every single one of them, vibrant still despite the lack of pigment. He had his arm thrown around a beautiful woman in one, his head thrown back in laughter, a drink in one hand. The woman was grinning, staring off just past where the camera was aimed. The plaque on the bottom read Midsummer Festival, circa 20XX.

The next picture was of a family, drawn close together, arms around one another. The mother was cradling a baby. At first glance, they seemed somber, but Lance had seen that expression on Keith, and somehow he knew that these people simply took everything seriously.

The room was filled with similar pictures. There were weddings, celebrations, funerals, or simply people going about their day to day lives. Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe had taken these people and painted them in the same light as the ones from Rainbow City. They weren’t different at all.

***

The people here are more lovely than anyone I have ever seen in even that of my own home. I find their lack of color to be more appealing than that of my own people. Their beauty is not found surface deep, but instead found in the kind way they treat each other and the loyalty that holds their society together.

I have found that the people in my own home, while they may be derived from heavenly color themselves, are vain and condescending toward that which they do not understand. And, as such, I have found that they do not understand the people of Monochrome.

There is such a deeply rooted fear of the unknown in my people. It closes their minds and hearts, poisoning their reasoning and clouding their judgement. I wish they would only get to know the lovely people in these towns to love them just as dearly as I do.

Dr. C. Wimbleton-Smythe, Over the Rainbow

***

“There’s a museum exhibit with pictures of your people.”

Keith looks up, surprise writ on his face.

They were sitting under a tree, the only one standing on the in-between. Keith had suggested they do it, after Lance had revealed he’d brought snacks and the Monochrome boy had admitted to never having tried the things Lance had brought.

“There is?”

Lance nods, giving him a small smile. “It isn’t very big, but… It’s there. Dr. Wimbleton-Smythe instated it a really long time ago. I guess nobody has bothered to take it down.”

Keith blinks, then tilts his head to the side. “How do you know about him?”

“Oh!” Lance turns, pulling the journal out of his backpack. “The librarian gave this to me after I read all of the books in the library.”

Keith snorts. “You read all of the books in the library?”

Lance smiles sheepishly, turning to hand him the book. “Yeah. I was a pretty hyperactive kid. It was that or get into more trouble than it was worth.”

The Monochrome boy chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at the book. A bit of hair falls into his face, and Lance has the urge to push it away from his face. He’d always been an impulsive boy.

Keith looks up when Lance’s fingers brush over his cheek and ear, his eyes wide and his gaze slightly awed. For a moment, they stare at each other, unable or unwilling to break eye contact.

But then Lance pulls his hand back, a brilliant red blooming over his cheeks. “Sorry.” He says quietly, glancing away from Keith.

He only looks up when a thumb brushes over his cheek. Lance jolts, surprised, and turns to see Keith with that same awed expression. It occurs to him then that Keith had probably never seen color — or at least not color as vivid as this before. So he leans into the boy’s touch, letting him trace over the slowly fading blush.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” Keith whispers, looking up at Lance, his gaze troubled. Upon closer inspection, Lance realizes that his eyes are a muted purple, like some sort of smoky amethyst.

“Should I be scared?” Lance asks, just as quietly.

He gets a smile and a little shake of the head before Keith is pulling his hand away. Lance wants to pull him back, hold his hand there. But he doesn’t, instead watching as porcelain fingers brush over yellowed pages.

“I can’t read this.” He admits after a moment, looking up at Lance. “I don’t read this language.”

Lance laughs, taking it back. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

His heart flutters when he gets that crooked, happy grin for the second time. “Yes, please.”

***

I have fallen in love.

It isn’t with a woman, or a man, or anyone in between. No, I have fallen in love with this culture and harmony. These people feel like home. It hurts me to think that I have to go back to Rainbow City, but I also feel at peace with my decision.

The people who raised me need to know who these lovely, monochromatic people are. They need to hear from one of their own that these are not people who need to be feared, let alone casted out for the way they were created. I — we — owe it to this beautiful group of people to understand.

I have fallen in love. Irreversibly, irrevocably in love.

— Dr. C. Wimbleton-Smythe, Over the Rainbow

***

The sixth time Lance visits, Keith falls asleep against his chest.

Lance was reading to him, the sun still in the sky. Keith had settled under his arm to see the diagrams and sketches that filled the empty spots in the pages. Somewhere along the way, his eyes had grown heavy and he had fallen asleep against the boy from Rainbow City.

He hadn’t noticed, not at first. But when Keith stopped asking questions or making Lance pause a moment so he could study the sketches, he trailed off and looked down.

The Monochrome boy had his cheek pressed against Lance’s collarbone. His thick eyelashes brushed over his cheekbones, his lips parted as he breathes, soft and even. His hand was curled, his knuckles pressed against his cheek and holding on loosely to the sweatshirt Lance had thrown on.

He was lovely.

Lance could see where the Doctor had been coming from. Then again, he had seen it since the first time he’d bumped into Keith. And to think, before this journal, Lance hadn’t even known that someone as beautiful as the boy on his chest had existed.

He brushes a hand through inky locks, not daring to move an inch in case he disturbed Keith.

And after his foot fell asleep and the chill from the setting sun started to creep from the floor into his bones, Lance realized he might just be a little bit in love.

***

“My mom wants to meet you.”

Lance looks up from divvying out the fruit he’d brought, his eyes wide. “I… Excuse me?”

Keith looks away, rubbing his cheek in a gesture Lance had come to realize meant that Keith was being shy. “She… I’ve been talking about you, and… she wants to meet you.”

“You talk about me?” Lance squeaks, not quite able to compute. Keith talked about him! He could sing praises to the heavens, run a thousand laps around the city fountains, die happy in this exact moment.

And then he realized just what Keith had said, and his elation turns to slight fear.

“Your… mom wants to meet me.” He repeats, after Keith nudges him with a worried call of his name. He must’ve been unresponsive.

“Yes,” the Monochrome boy nods, biting his lip.

“When?” He asks, his voice faint.

“Um…” Keith smiles, shy. “Today? She said I could invite you to dinner. So.. want to come to dinner?”

Lance stares at him, his eyes wide. The silence drags for a long, terrible minute, before Keith pulls away, his face falling. “Unless you don’t want to, that’s okay- I get it. I’m- I’m me, and… that’s okay.”

“No!” Lance reaches over, taking his hands, shaking his head quickly. Oh, heavens, stars almighty, he was an idiot. “No. I’m sorry, I just- you caught me off guard. Of course I want to come to dinner. Thank you for inviting me.”

The Monochrome boy looks down at their hands, then back up at him, his smile hesitant. “Yeah?” He whispers, squeezing Lance’s fingers hopefully.

“Yeah.” Lance whispers back, taking a chance and leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to this beautiful boy’s flawless forehead.

***

Krolia Kogane was the single most terrifying woman on this side of the border, Lance had come to realize.

He and Keith had made the trek into town, past a few dozen curious faces and polite smiles (he was certain he’d be met with hostile stares and terrified mothers pulling their children away. That’s what Keith would have been greeted with). They’d walked through the town, right to what seemed to be the biggest house in the whole place.

Standing in the doorway was Krolia Kogane, cutting an imposing figure as her son lead a Rainbow City boy up to her and into her house. And now she was sitting across from him at their kitchen table, her gaze inscrutable.

“So,” she starts, and he snaps to attention. “Keith tells me you’ve been visiting him.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lance replies hastily, then clears his throat and adds, “He’s very nice.”

Krolia gives him the slightest of smiles. One of Keith’s smiles. “He is, isn’t he?” She looks toward the stairs, where Keith had disappeared to get one thing or another. She turns her gaze back to him, then sighs. “I don’t know what you know of our history, Lance, but the Rainbow folk haven’t exactly been the most friendly.”

“Yes, ma’am. I… I know a little of it.” Lance nods solemnly. He hesitates a minute, then lifts his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry.” He says softly. “I don’t want to hurt Keith in any way. I… I really like him.”

Keith’s mother studies him a moment, then smiles and sits back. “You look at him the way my husband used to look at me.”

And again that bright red blooms over his cheeks, warmth settling in his chest. He looks toward the stairs. “I really like him.” He says again.

The three of them spend the evening making traditional dishes and swapping stories. Tonight was the first night Lance heard Keith laugh without restraint and the first night he wanted to pull him close and kiss him.

At the end of the night, he gets that chance. They’re lingering on the border, standing in their perfect little in-between. Keith is stalling, dragging out their goodbyes with soft thank yous and his fingers twined around Lance’s.

When there’s a breath of silence, a moment with their eyes locked and the silence heavy around them, Lance leans forward.

Keith’s lips are soft and gentle, his breath stalling between them as his brain catches up with his body. His arms reach up, wrap around Lance’s neck. Lance puts a hand on the small of his back, pulling him against his chest and kissing him like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. Because, in all reality, it was.

They part with the promise to see eachother again the following night. And the one after that. And the one after that.

When Lance leaves, all the colors around him seems dull without Keith by his side.

***

“I think I’m in love with him.” Lance says one afternoon, when all of his friends are hanging out in his room.

Hunk looks up, surprise flickering over his face. Pidge’s typing stops.

“What?” His best friends echo, almost in sync with one another.

“You haven’t even known him that long,” Hunk protests.

“We haven’t even met the guy!” Pidge huffs.

Lance rolls over on his bed, blinking at them. “Do you want to meet him?” He asks.

That night, Lance asks Keith if he wants to meet them.

“Will they like me?” Keith asks, worried as he looks up at Lance. They’re curled up in Keith’s bed, back to their usual reading sessions (or, rather, Keith’s daily naptime before dinner).

“Of course they will.” Lance smiles, smoothing his hair down and kissing his forehead. “I like you. They’re bound to like you — we have similar interests.”

“Okay,” Keith concedes after a moment of long and hard thought, snuggling back in. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

***

It wasn’t going well. Keith was flighty and nervous the moment he saw that there was three of them. He flinched when Lance took his hand, apologizing softly when he sees the concern on the Rainbow Citizens face.

Hunk was anxious as all get out; he had done some research himself, but of course he hadn’t borrowed the journal from Lance. All of the feedback he got painted Keith — sweet, soft, beautiful Keith — out to be a cold hearted monster.

Pidge had her own suspicions. This was displayed after tense introductions when she leaned over to Hunk and murmured, “He looks like a ghost.”

They hadn’t seen it, but Lance had seen his Monochrome boy crumble. He had felt fingers tighten on his own, heard the soft exhale.

“Pidge,” Lance says, aghast. “He can hear you.”

She has the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry.”

After an hour of agonizing small talk and mediating from Lance, he’d given up and told the group he was getting tired and that they should probably head home. But once they’d started off, he hung back.

Keith holds it together for a few minutes after they’re out of sight. But then his lip starts to tremble and his fingers twitch.

“Oh, Keith,” Lance breathes, pulling him against his chest, just in time to catch a weak sob against his shirt.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps wetly. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. It isn’t your fault. You haven’t done anything wrong. I forgot… just how much my society has been taught to pretend yours doesn’t exist.”

He feels Keith try to form words, and he feels his heart break when all he comes up with is another sob. So he holds him, until the tears are dried and he can kiss those trembling lips.

“I want to take you to my parents.” He whispers, stroking his cheek, brushing away the tears. Keith looks up at him, smoky eyes wide and dewy. “I want to show the world — my world — just how much I love you.”

“You do?” Keith asks, and smiles.

“I do.” He tilts his head up, pressing his lips against his forehead and lingering there.

“Tomorrow?” Keith whispers.

Lance smiles against his skin and nods. Tomorrow.

***

A life well spent is, in my eyes, one spent devoted to easing the suffering of others. I believe I have had a good life. A wonderful life, even. Though I was unable to change the minds of many people, those who listened made a great difference, and I hope that one day, it may change this world for the better.

My life as I have known is nearly over. My bones are fragile, my health even more so. The rest of my life may be spent in a bed, but I am surrounded by loved ones and filled with happiness.

I hope that you, my dear reader, have gained something from listening to the ramblings of an old man. I hope that your life is filled with as much wonder and beauty as I was able to find. I wish you well, in your studies and your happiness.

Dr. Coran Wimbleton-Smythe, Over the Rainbow

***

The walk through town stops many people, gathers much attention, earns stares and murmurs from people who happened upon them. But Lance walked proudly, Keith at his side. And Keith was glowing, hardly paying attention to the people around him as he took in all of the color with childish wonderment.

“It’s so beautiful,” He had said in hushed tones the moment they entered the city.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Lance had answered.

Now they were stepping into his house, into Lance’s life. With his many brothers and sisters, with his mother cooking dinner at the stove, with the house full of the memories he’d carried with him for his entire life.

“Lance! Where have you been? I need you to come help with dinner, Veronica is-” His mother rounds the corner, then stops, her eyes falling on Keith.

Lance steps forward, Keith’s hand in his. “Mom,” He says, with a voice that promised them both an eternity of tomorrows and an abundance of love. “This is Keith.”

It's so good!!!! 🤤🤤

August

Inspired by August by Taylor Swift

Summary: When Haley and Aaron broke up after junior year, you never thought it would be for good. But still you found yourself falling (into bed) with the boy who hated you. Your best friend’s ex boyfriend.

PART 1 | PART 2

Word Count: 4338

Warnings: 18+ for smut, very angsty ending, general teenage shenanigans, talk of disassociating, Haley hate (kind of? But also not really?)

A/N: I started this a couple of months ago after hearing “skinny dipping” by Sabrina Carpenter and realizing it would be such a cool idea to see a then and now. I never thought I’d write smut or young!Aaron so this is very new in all ways. I will take all the feedback or constructive criticism you have, thanks for reading!

Gif credit goes to @hotch-girl <3

“But I can see us

Lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

‘Cause you was never mine”

Everyone knew Aaron and Haley. Aaron might have been a jock and Haley might have been a nerd but everyone knew them as Aaron and Haley. They just made sense.

When they got together our sophomore year, the whole town talked about it. Aaron smiled more and Haley hid her face less. The two were known as the town’s sweethearts and it was genuinely deserved.

When they split the summer between your junior and senior year, no one believed it would last for long. Especially you.

You were Haley’s best friend. Your parents had become fast friends after meeting as parent volunteers at your kindergarten class trip to the aquarium. Haley would come over when her parents did and the two of you would go play while the adults did whatever adults do.

She was a bit more outgoing than you and always fought to bring you out of your shell. Dragging you to every event she could, the two of you were inseparable. Were.

When Haley and Aaron got together, she suddenly had less time for you. She was busy with her new relationship, you understood that but missed your best friend. It didn’t help that Aaron didn’t like you. Every time Haley would invite you to do something with them, Aaron would glare at you while she was looking away or maneuver himself so he was between the two of you and start to spread out more and more until you had to move.

Haley never noticed. You loved her, truly you did, but she was always a princess. When you were little she always had to be the damsel in distress. Her perfect story started with her needing help and ended in happily ever after when her nightly prince saved her from some big evil. She never wanted to save herself.

You didn’t fault her for this. Not everyone could be like you. Not everyone had to grow up early and learn that the only person you should depend on was yourself. In fact, part of the reason you loved her so much was her almost childlike optimism. You would pummel anyone who threatened to take it away from her. Sometimes you wished she would be a little more in touch with reality, but friendship - like all relationships - was about compromise.

So you compromised. You gave her time and space and let her settle into her new relationship. You didn’t fault her for it, you reckoned that it was a normal teenage girl thing. So you waited.

Her never ending schemes to get you involved led to a decreased time for your hobbies, specifically painting and reading. Your new free time was well spent catching up on your always growing “to read” list which always inspired new pieces of artwork. Those books were the reason you didn’t hold the same ideas on life and romance as your friend. While she loved the doting attention of the soccer star and his juvenile pet names, you had a more refined standard of romance. You would accept nothing less than being swept off your feet.

Or so you thought.

Three weeks after the couple broke up, you saw Aaron for the first time. You were at the beach, the last book you had read featured a cute scene with a couple in the water so it inspired you to pack up some sunscreen and head out. You had been there for about an hour when all of the sudden it was too dark to read. Looking up, you found your best friend’s ex boyfriend staring at you.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, arms crossed as he peered down at you with a frown.

“Reading, you don’t own the beach Hotchner. It’s public property” you reminded, shutting your book while pursing your lips. He rolled his eyes with a sneer as you waited to see what he wanted.

“So funny,” he remarked, “when are you leaving?”

“Whenever I feel like it. Though if it upsets you so much…” you trailed off with a hand on your chin, “never.”

With another glare, he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. His hands fell from across his chest to perch on his hips.

“Well I need you to leave” he ordered. No matter what he had intended, his words had the opposite effect. You found yourself laughing hard enough that you toppled over, dropping the book from your lap. Your chest was hugging your knees as your head was thrown back in what was probably an extremely attractive laugh. When you got control of your breathing again, your eyes peered up to look at his which were locked down your bikini top.

“My eyes are up here, Hotchner, and no thanks” you responded with a smirk. His eyes flashed back up to your face, ears slightly red from the embarrassment of getting caught. He started to splutter, eyebrows furrowed as he came up with whatever excuse he thought would get you to leave.

Ignoring him, you stood from your place on the ground and walked up to him so you were chest to chest, “I’m not Haley. I don’t think you walk on water and I won’t let you boss me around. Go find someone else to control.”

Unlike your friend who’s short stature meant she was eye level with Aaron’s chest, your eyes were firmly locked on his lips. You were close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning across your nose. Both of you stood there, momentarily stunned by the close contact when his buddies came up behind him.

“Aaron we’re leaving” one of them yelled, passing him by without stopping. Your hands were cocked on your hips, waiting for his next move.

“Later” he responded loudly, eyes still locked on yours. As soon as his buddies were gone, he pushed his face closer to yours. His eyes were dancing with anger as he swallowed loudly.

“Listen here-“ he started, his mocking tone setting you off again. You threw your hands up, one hand running through your hair as the other pointed into his chest.

“I will not ‘listen here’ buck-o, you hold no sway over me. I don’t care what you think or what you want. I was here first and you don’t own this stupid beach!” You yelled, finger jamming into his chest every other point in emphasis.

Grabbing your hand mid poke, his hand tightly squeezed yours as he muttered between clenched teeth, “you are so goddamn infuriating, woman. You know that?”

“I am not” you huffed, annoyed at how warm and right his calloused hand felt around yours, “you are infuriating, you-you-“

His lips were against yours. Your current thought process died and you could feel the wheels in your head spinning overtime as you tried to understand what was going on. The thought of whose tongue was caressing your bottom lip caused a moment of clarity and your hands went flat against his chest to push back and your lips opened to tell him off but the words fell flat. He had taken your motion as encouragement and the hand that was once holding yours moved to grasping the back of your neck, fingers threaded in your hair. The other gripped your hip to the point of being painful and you found yourself moaning into his mouth.

You let your eyes slip closed and tentatively swiped yours against his wandering tongue. His answering groan made your thighs clench. The deep baritone made your head swim, your hands climbed up his chest to grasp onto his shoulders. You were breathless, chest heaving against his as your fingers dug into the muscles in his back. He groaned again into your mouth but the noise was loud enough to startle a group of birds that were walking around in the sand a few feet from you.

The sudden commotion startled both of you out of the moment. Your hands slid down his back to hang down at your sides as you stared, open-mouthed at your best friend’s ex boyfriend. The words wouldn’t come. You knew you should walk away, run away, but all you could think about was the taste of him. The way he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, the way his lips had caressed yours. You wanted more. Maybe that made you a bad person, but you needed it more than anything else you’d ever had before.

During your mental debate, Aaron stood in front of you. His arms were also at his sides, shaking slightly as his chest heaved in time with yours. His eyes never left yours, their darkened shade glistening along with his lips. When he caught you staring at them, his tongue stuck out to lick you off of his lips. The movement sent butterflies flying around your stomach. You gave yourself a minute to close your eyes and think this through but quickly shook off rationality and grabbed his hand.

Pulling him away from the sandy beach and leaving your book and chair, you led him wordlessly to the parking lot. You were backed into your parking spot at the deserted end of the lot underneath a bunch of low hanging trees. You were momentarily thankful that your favorite spot to park kept your vehicle cool with its windy breeze through the cracked windows and shade from the beating sun.

When you reached the vehicle, you avoided his eyes and dug the key out of your pocket. Your hands were shaky as you tried to fit the key into the lock until a warm hand enclosed your own. His steady fingers slipped the key into the lock and twisted, unlocking the door and opening it in one smooth movement. You reached around to unlock the back door and opened it to let the car air out. With a quick slam of the front door, you were both standing close in the hot air of your heated car. There was a little bead of sweat running down his forehead as his eyes studied your face. You used one hand to balance yourself against his lean frame and the other wiped at his forehead and brushed the one long strand of hair out of his eyes. He shot you a small smile, a dimple pulling out as he mimicked your motions to brush a stray hair back behind your ear. The action felt almost too intimate for such a tumultuous relationship so you quickly pushed him into your backseat.

The sweetness of the moment was interrupted and his hands were pulling onto your hips, taking you with him as he kicked the door shut and slotted his lips against yours. You moaned against his tongue as he continued to explore your mouth. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders again for support but you needed more. Quickly you grasped at the top of his shirt and pulled, forcing him to pull away and finish removing his shirt.

Once it was gone your mouth was sliding along the lines of his shoulder, sucking little marks against the muscles there. He was groaning and grasping at your hair, fingers tightening as you would bite down a little on the skin before licking over it to soothe the mark.

You were just about to move down to his chest when the hand in your hair was yanking you up and you were suddenly being kissed with a ferocity that was only hinted at before. Your hands continued the trail you started with your mouth, running your nails lightly over his pecs and abs down to the happy trail around his belly button. As your hands explored his body, he took the initiative to do the same, one hand holding your head close to his as the other traced around your bikini top before circling around your breast. A finger flicked at your nipple suddenly, causing your fingernails to tighten into his chest.

He was biting at your bottom lip with a moan as your fingers finished the happy trail down under his swim trunks. You teased him, running your finger around the edges of the waistband before continuing to move your hand back up his chest. His bottom lip poked out against yours as he pouted from the loss of contact. His lips pulled away from yours, giving you a moment to catch your breath when he suddenly ducked his head down and bit down lightly on your nipple over the suit. You threw your head back with a moan as you pulled yourself fully seated in his lap to grind down against him. The sudden contact caused him to groan around your nipple as his tongue flicked against you and the hand on your waist moved in time with your movements. You were gasping for air as he rubbed against your clit, your wetness soaking through the bikini bottoms and coating the front of his trunks.

The slickness made a squeaking sound that wasn’t pleasant so you hurried to move yourself off of his lap to pull the swim suit off. He copied your idea and quickly slid his shorts down. The sight of him slapping against his happy trail sent another wave of heat through your belly.

You pushed him back against the seat and kneeled above him. His lips were back on yours as an arm wrapped around your waist to bring you against him. The new position had his tip rubbing against your clit. You squirmed against the contact, trying to create more friction as he let out a little huff of laughter while you whined against his lips. Taking pity on you, he dragged a hand from your waist to grasp himself, rubbing little circles against your bundle of nerves. The increase in pressure felt heavenly and you could hardly focus on his kiss. Your lips went lax as your mouth hung open. He pressed little nips on your bottom and top lips before using his nose to push your face to the side. His lips dotted kisses down your jaw and onto your neck. He was busy sucking at a sensitive spot just above your clavicle as he dragged his cock against your clit in slow, teasing circles.

Your moans were loud in the silent car for a moment before you slid a hand up his side to the back of his neck. You tugged at his hair until his lips were leaving your neck and his face was level with yours. His breath was coming out in warm pants that tingled against your sensitive lips. You tried to think straight with his hand still moving against you but you couldn’t help kissing him again.

Leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from his lips over to his ear, you sucked gently on his earlobe before leaning a little further to whisper in his ear, “I want you inside of me.”

His answering groan accompanied a harsh slap of his cock against your clit. You bit down on his shoulder in retribution before shooing his hand away and grasping his length in your hand. You used your wetness that had dropped down his cock as lubricant as you stroked him slowly. After a minute, you were lifting yourself a bit further and lining him up when one of his hands squeezed your hip and the other lifted your face to look at him.

“Are you sure?” He whispered, words clear in the heated moment. Your heart clenched at the sweetness of him, such an odd contrast to his behavior before that day, before leaning forward to nip at his bottom lip. You let your tongue sweep along the spot you bit and nodded before you slowly started to sink down onto him.

The rest of the summer passed similarly in a blur of stolen moments and hidden signals. There were a bunch of big stones that lined the wood chips along the length of your home. All of them were multicolored but there was one that stood out, it was a faded blue on one side and light red on the other. As you were sneaking into your house one of the first nights after the two of you met up, you accidentally knocked it over and saw the color change. The next time you met up with Aaron, you suggested he use the stone to show if he was able to get out that night. If he thought he could make it, he would turn the stone to the blue side but if he couldn’t, he’d leave the red.

You always met at the same time at the same place. Ten minutes after ten pm on the roof of the abandoned warehouse that was between your houses. You would crouch through the hole in the fence and use the fire escape to get up to the top.

Every night up on that roof was the same. He would look at you with those tired eyes and you would have done anything to make it just a little bit better for him. He would hold you as his lips bruised your own, his hands grasping at your hips as he set a brutal pace. There was never much said between the two of you. Sometimes it would be mere moments after you arrived on the roof that he would pull the blanket from your arms and lay you down on it. Others he would pull you into his arms and spend hours watching the stars before kissing you slowly. Every time he would ask if you were sure. The quiet words had become routine but no less special as he lined himself up and brought your face up to meet his eyes.

You kept telling yourself it meant nothing. That the two of you had come to an unspoken agreement to work out your daily struggles with each other. It was normal. It was fine.

It was a good thing, a really good thing, but like all other good things, it eventually came to an end. You had been avoiding Haley, only responding to every other text and making excuses to avoid meeting up. You took a new job during the day stocking shelves at a local warehouse to keep your mind and hands busy. But as you knew, you couldn’t avoid her forever.You were walking out of the house to your car before work one day when she cornered you.

Yelling your name, she ran over from across the street to stand behind your car. You greeted her back with a quick smile but you could tell from her stance with her hands on her hips that she was upset. You were hoping you could at least make it to the start of the school year before having to face the confrontation.

“Haley-“ you started but she cut you off.

“No, don’t you dare ‘Haley’ me” she growled, “what in the hell is the matter with you? You’ve been blowing me off all summer! I thought you were my best friend but just when I needed you most, you leave me”

You hated the way that your throat constricted seeing her teary eyed but you knew you had to be strong for her, “no, I was-“

“Stop lying to me! If you didn’t want to be my friend, you could have just said so! I lost Aaron and then I lost you, so you know how hard that was for me?” She cried. Your stomach clenched at the mention of his name.

“I’m sorry” you muttered, head down as you realized how this situation would play out. You were stupid to think that everything wouldn’t explode in your face. Even if she never found out, you couldn’t face her. Not knowing how it feels to be loved by him. Not knowing how she still loved him.

She continued to yell at you and you let her; your mind floating as you began to understand just how badly this was going to end. A tight feeling settled into your gut as you realized how many people your thoughtless decision would affect, how many people you would lose. As you started to gather your thoughts, you didn’t let your mind stray. You would make a plan of attack and separate yourself from reality, that would be the only way you would survive what was to come.

Later that night, after Haley finally had enough yelling and told you that she never wanted to see you again, you waited for Aaron on the roof.

Normally he beat you there but this time, you were waiting for him. Your back was to the entrance as you stood by the edge and stared out at the bustling city. The squeaking of the door opening let you know you were no longer alone but you waited until you could smell the warm scent of him behind you before you began to turn.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice quiet against the soft noises of the city below.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you turned to him. His eyes were guarded as he regarded you with no expression. His hands were in his Jean pockets as he waited for you to respond.

“Aaron,” you started, voice calm despite the desperate fear of losing him and yourself in the process, “this summer has been the best summer of my life but I…. I think it’s time we end this. School starts soon so you’ll be tired from soccer practice and Haley will be around. I know she broke it off but she misses you. Everyone wants you two back together, including both of you, so it just seems like this is the right time. She’ll be there for all of your needs and you can go back to hating me when I’m not sleeping with you.”

His eyes bore into yours as he seemed to process what you said. His arms strained under his tight grasp at the material of his pants and you longed to wrap your arms around him and just hold on tight. The ever present crease between his eyes got more defined as he began to scowl, his eyes hardening against your gaze.

“It was never just sex to me” his steady voice insisted hands raising to grasp at the ends of his hair, “it was never just a fling or a hookup. Haley-“

“Is the love of your life” you responded, trying to keep your voice calm despite the quickly growing turmoil you felt. Your stomach was tied into knots as you watched the pain flicker through his face.

“No, she’s not. You don’t have the right to tell me who I love” His face tightened, voice raising in frustration at your lack of emotion.

“But you do, you love her. This was just a fling. Even if you don’t want to admit it, Aaron” you countered, arms folded across your chest as you tried not to shrink away from his anger.

“I did, I do. But that doesn’t mean anything now because we aren’t together. And I don’t need to admit anything. You don’t get to tell me how I feel or what I think, you don’t even know me” he huffed, finger pointing at you as he stilled suddenly. His eyes were regretful as he looked at your withdrawn posture. You gave him a watery grimace as the tears started to fall down your cheeks. You unwrapped your arms to wipe at the traitorous emotional reaction and nodded at him.

“You’re right, Aaron. I don’t know you” you agreed, voice breaking.

“Sweetheart I-”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand and tried to make your voice as steady as possible, “I don’t know you. I’ve seen you every night for two months but we haven’t spoken more than a handful of words. I don’t know you and I’m never going to.”

Your eyes trailed down to the ground as you spoke, unable to meet his gaze. After a moment you could hear him take a deep, unsteady breath before swallowing loudly.

“So this is it then?” He asked, voice hard with his teeth and fists clenched. Your heart broke at his words and a voice in your head screamed at you to stop playing the martyr, to let yourself be happy.

“Yes,” you responded, head tipping back up to meet his eyes, “goodbye Aaron.”

With a quick turn, you started towards the entrance to the roof to return back to solid ground as you heard him whisper a goodbye behind you. The sadness in his voice almost broke your resolve but you stood your ground. You don’t remember anything about getting out of the building or back home besides the empty feeling that sets into your chest. But that feeling never quite went away.

You never told Haley. You didn’t think Aaron would either but he was right, you didn’t know him. Breaking things off with him was the right thing to do but it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest and stomped on by a herd of elephants. You spent every night until school started again crying yourself to sleep. Haley showed up to your house multiple times but your parents listened to your pleas not to let her in. Eventually, your mom caved to your demands to join the local college’s early degree program and you didn’t have to watch as your two favorite people found comfort in each other. You had hoped they would but you didn’t think you would be able to stand watching your classmates vote them prom king and queen or most likely to marry.

Instead, you settled into a routine of pushing your body and mind to the limit as you tried to fill the gaping hole in your chest. You were convinced that years from now, your future self would thank you. But at the moment, all you felt was empty.

(1.4) Phantom Traveler: Part one

“Memories and an unseen photograph”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warning(s): Angst, language, fluff

Summary:  After the mysterious crash of a commercial airliner, Y/N and the boys are called in by a family friend to investigate. They soon learn they are dealing with a disaster-causing demon, and will need to board a doomed flight in order to exorcise it. The problem is, Y/N is afraid of planes.

Word count: 2,942

Previous part || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

You slept through most of the night in the motel you and the boys were staying in, although you kept waking up each time Dean tossed and turned in the middle of the night, either turning to you to wrap his arms around you or to turn his back to you. But he would keep you awake for only a few seconds until you dozed back off. But the very last time he had done it, you couldn’t help but stay lying awake as you stared up at the ceiling as you let memories of the Halliwells run through your mind again.

The only other person you had shared a room with, let alone, a bed, was Paige. She had decided to move out of her apartment and into the manor a couple of months after you had moved into there. And since your bed was bigger than Phoebe’s, and Piper shared hers with her husband, you allowed the youngest Halliwell to sleep in the same room as you until another room was cleared out for you to stay in.

Sure, Paige could’ve slept on the couch down in the living room, or maybe you could have. But neither one of you wanted to suffer through that. And it wasn’t all that bad. You both would stay up each night talking about your day, or the fact that you were both adopted and didn’t find out until you were both much older.

You and Paige Matthews both had a lot of things in common, which made it easier for you to open up about so much you kept bottled up over the years. She was the first one you told about Dean, and how special he had made you feel along with how infatuated with him you were. You admitted to her of how broken you were when he had to leave you to go with his father.

After that, she tried setting you up on blind dates, in hopes to find you someone you’d find spending the rest of your life with. But you always turned her idea of it down, because you were so set on the possibility that you were going to meet Dean again. And you did, and you two were together again. For the first time in five years, you were truly happy again. You just wished the girls were there to see it.

Dean was sleeping on the left side of the bed, leaving you in between him and the glass wall on the other side of him. You didn’t know why, but it gave him a bit of reassurance of your safety. You turned around to face him, he was laying on his stomach, his head turned away from you. You could hear the sounds of his breathing, bringing you calming sensation. You took notice that Sam wasn’t anywhere to be seen, of course, he might’ve been somewhere in town.

You turned your head when you heard the sounds of someone unlocking and the creaking of the motel door open. You watched as a tall figure enter into the room slowly. It stood in front of you behind the glass wall for a few moments before walking further into the room. Dean must’ve thought it was an intruder as his head quickly turned around to see who it was. You saw that it was just Sam, holding three cups in his hands.

“Morning, sunshines.” Sam greeted, standing in front of the bed.

You shuffled around a bit, wanting so badly to get up for the day, but you just laid there, wrapping the blankets around your body as Dean began to wake up himself. You twisted around until you were on your back and looked at the youngest Winchester with squinted eyes, trying to block out the sunlight.

“What time is it?” You asked, letting a yawn slip from your mouth.

“It’s about 5:45.” Sam answered, looking out the window.

“In the morning?” Dean groaned, shifting around in bed so he was now looking at his brother.

“Did you grab any sleep last night?” You asked Sam, finally sitting yourself up as the younger man handed you one of the cups of coffee.

“Yeah, a couple hours.” Sam said, you gave him a surprised look.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Liar- cause I was up at three,” He said said, pulling his body out of bed and sitting on his side. “And you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”

"Hey, what can I say? It’s riveting TV.” Sam remarked causing you to scoff.

“I got way more sleep than the both of you,” You didn’t mean to brag, but you feeling pretty great this morning. “I passed out way before midnight.”

Dean chuckled at what you were saying, “Yeah, and it was the cutest thing.” The man was in complete awe, you couldn’t help but blush as he turned his attention back onto his brother, asking him a question. “When’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "A little while, I guess. It’s not a big deal.” He said, looking over at something before paying attention to his brother. “I peripatetic your concern.”

“I’m not concerned. It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp. While on the other hand, it’s my job to keep this one alive.” Dean said, pointing a finger at you. You leaned over to bite his finger, as if to let him know that you could take of yourself. But before you could even touch him, he was pulling his finger away from you.

“Are you still having nightmares about Jessica?” You asked, trying to change the subject as you scooted over to the edge of the bed.

Sam tried to smile, looking around the room to focus his attention somewhere else. But he couldn’t ignore your concerned look. He sighed to himself, walking over to his bed and sat down. “Yeah,” He admitted. “But it’s not just her. It’s everything.” He handed a cup to his brother before setting his down on the nightstand.“I just forgot, you know? This job- man, it gets to you."

"You can’t let it. You can’t bring it home like that.” Dean gave his brother some advice, taking a sip of his coffee.

“All this- it never keeps you up at night?” Sam asked. Dean just shook his head.

“Never? You’re never afraid?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, giving him a curious look to see what his answer was.

“No, not really.” Dean admitted, but something told you he was lying. Sam let out a laugh as he reached over and slipped a hand underneath Dean’s pillow to pull out the knife he had.“That’s not fear,“ He stated, leaning over and taking the knife back. "That is precaution.”

“All right, whatever. I’m too tired to argue.” Sam muttered, looking down at the ground.

As you took another sip of your drink, Dean’s cell phone began ringing. He leaned over and grabbed it, looking down at it with confusion. All three of you wondered who it could be. He flipped it open and answered and you leaned in closer to hear who was on the other line.

“Dean, it’s Jerry Panowski.” A male voice on the other line said. “You and your dad helped me out a couple years back.”

He was quiet for a few moments, trying to think, speaking up again after a few moments of silence. “Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania.” Dean said. “The Poltergeist thing. It’s not back, is it?” Your face scrunched up in confusion, wondering what he was discussing.

“No. No. Thank, God.” Jerry chuckled, before speaking up again. “But it’s something else, and, well, I think it could be a lot worse.”

“What is it?” Dean questioned, his expression fell into concern.

“Can we talk in person?” Jerry asked, you watched as Dean turned his attention to his brother.

Dean agreed and said goodbye to Jerry before closing his phone and setting it back down on the nightstand. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Well, I found ourselves another case.” Dean said, pushing himself off the bed and walking over to grab his bag. “We’ll leave in twenty minutes. All right?”

You and Sam nodded your heads in agreement, you finished your coffee after a few more sips, before getting up and throwing the cup away before heading over to your duffel bag to find some clean clothes to wear.

~~~

“Thanks for making the trip so quick.” Jerry said as he walked in front of you while the rest of you followed behind. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going. All you saw were airplane parts and people working on them. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around.” You watched as Jerry looked over at Sam. “Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked, looking around at the building.

Suddenly a random man that walked by looked at three of you and smiled. “‘Poltergeist?’ I loved that movie.” He simply stated. But Jerry wasn’t in the mood.

“Hey, nobody’s talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry sassed, looking at the man walking by. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh. “Damn right it was a poltergeist- practically tore our house apart.” He said, looking at Sam from over his shoulder. “Tell you something- if it wasn’t for you and your dad, I probably wouldn’t be alive.”

“You know this boy, always making sure to keep people safe.” You said with a smile as you looked over at Dean. He gave you a small smile, reaching his hand over to lightly pinch you in the side before taking a hold of your hand.

Jerry looked at you with confusion, as if he was trying to figure out who you were. You looked almost familiar to him, it took a few moments before he finally realized that you were the girl from the picture of you and Dean that the older Winchester had tucked away into the pocket of his jacket. “Aren’t you Y/N?” He asked, you slowly nodded your head, wondering how he knew that. “Dean has a picture of the both of you from when you two were in high school, he told me all about you, I didn’t think I’d ever meet you too.” You found yourself blushing again as you looked over at Dean.

“I need to see this picture.” You told him.

“I’ll show you later, sweetheart.” He promised you.

Jerry turned away from the two of you to focus his attention on Sam. “Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was. I’m…taking some time off.” Sam said, trying to come up with a proper response.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell.” Jerry said, turning his head to look at something in the distance. “He talked about you all the time.”

Sam seemed a little bit shocked at what he was hearing. “He did?” He asked as you all passed an airplane that was being worked on.

“Yeah, you bet he did.” Jerry admitted, before looking over at Dean. “Oh, hey, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn’t. How’s he doing, anyway?”

Dean shrugged, shoving his hands inside his jacket pockets. “Hes, um, wrapped up in a job right now.” He lied, brushing it off with a small smile.

“Well, we’re missing the old man.” Jerry turned around, walking backwards to look at you and Sam with a smile. “We get Sam and Y/N. Even trade, huh?” He joked, turning around so he could walk normally again.

All of you laughed at the compliment, but Sam brushed it off. “No, not by a long shot.” Sam said, you gave him a look of annoyance. He shrugged off your look and paid attention to what Jerry was saying about the case, finally.

“I got something I want you guys to hear.” Jerry lead you to his office. You all took a seat around his desk, watching as he pulled out a disk. “I listened to this. Well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” He put the disk into a player. “Normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485.It was one of ours.”

You all listened to the recording. At first all you could hear was static and voices shouting, it was hard for you to make out what they were saying. But then an alarm went off, as the sounds of the airplane slowly falling was heard.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hindered miles south.” Jerry explained. “Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow.” Your eyebrows furrowed, Jerry continued with the story. “Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. The pilot was one.”

You listened to what Jerry was talking about, the pilot. “His name is Chuck Lambert. He’s a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh…” Jerry tried to find the proper response. “Well, he’s pretty broken up about it, like it was his fault.”

“You don’t think it was?” Sam asked.

“No, I don’t.” Jerry said, looking at the youngest Winchester.

You sighed. “Jerry, we’re gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors-” You began listing off what could help you with the case, but Dean interrupted you.

“Right. And any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean asked, his voice was nonchalant, as if that wasn’t classified information.

“The other stuff is no problem,, but the wreckage-” Jerry said, looking at the three of you. “Fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”

Dean nodded his head. “No problem.” He said, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but he was coming up with a plan to get the three of you into that warehouse. And it wasn’t going to be something easy.

~~~

You tapped your foot against the pavement as you waited for Dean to come out of some shop with the new fake ids. You didn’t exactly know what plan he was going with, but you just hoped that it was good enough to get through security without getting caught.

And what felt like hours of waiting for the oldest Winchester, he finally came out of the shop and walked up to the two of you.

“You’ve been in there forever,” Sam complained, throwing his hands up in the air.

Dean just showed off the three newly made ids, you leaned in closer to take a better look. “You can’t rush perfection.” Dean said as you took the ids out of his hand to take a closer look. Never in your life did you think you’d be doing something like this.

“Homeland Security?” You asked with your eyebrows raised. “That’s pretty illegal, Dean.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, digging his hands inside his pocket and walking over to the driver’s side of the car. “Yeah, well, it’s something new, you know?” He said, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “People haven’t seen it a thousand times.”

You sighed in annoyance, opening up the front door and heading into the back of the car like everyone else. “All right, so, what do you got?” Dean asked, looking over at his brother.

“Well, there’s definitely E.V.P. On the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam began, pulling out his laptop and bringing up the audio recording that you heard earlier.

You leaned against the front seats, making sure to take a good listen. It was mostly static again for the first few seconds, but a whispered voice spoke up halfway through. “No survivors.” It hissed before disappearing.

“'No survivors’?” Dean repeated in a questionable tone. “What’s that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

“Got me.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders, paying attention back to his laptop.

“So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?” You suggested, looking at the brothers with curiosity, wondering what their thoughts on this was.

“There’s a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers.” Sam explained, glancing over his shoulder to look at you. Nodding your head, you let him continue with his thought. “Or remember flight 401?” He asked, losing you at where he was going next.

Dean nodded his head, jumping right into the conversation. “Right- the one that crashed, the airline salvaged its parts, put it in other airplanes. Then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“So…you’re saying we might have a spirit hooked on to a machine part in this flight?” You asked, trying to make sense of everything. You knew that spirits could anchor themselves onto an object, even after the corpse was salted and burned. But if this was the case for the reason why this plane crashed, your job might have just gotten tougher.

“Maybe we got a similar deal.” Sam said, looking at you with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Right.” Dean said, putting everyone’s attention on the next task that needed to be done. “So, survivors- which one do you guys want to talk to first?” He pulled out a sheet of people that Jerry gave you right before leaving. He looked over the list of passengers.

You pulled your body up and leaned over the seat, pointing at the name, but it required you to hover over Dean’s shoulder. You apologized before going back to reading the list. “Third one on the list- Max Jaffey.”

“Why him?” Dean asked, turning his head to look at you.

“For one, he’s from around here.” You stated. “And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.”

“What makes you say that?” He questioned, looking at you from over his shoulder.

“Well, I spoke to his mother, and told me where to find him.” You said, letting out a sigh. “And you’re never gonna guess where that is.”

~~~

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(1.3) DITW: Part two

“Drawings speak louder than words”

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Warning(s): Angst, language

Summary: In a small town in Wisconsin, Y/N and the brothers investigate a series of mysterious drownings officially explained as drownings.

Word count: 3,605

Previous part || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

You and the brothers headed to the park, where a group of kids were running around the playground. You noticed Andrea was sitting on the bench, watching over her son Lucas, who was in the middle of the grass coloring by himself. "Can we join you?" Sam asked, you stopped at his side and smiled at Andrea.

She seemed a little taken back by your sudden appearance, but she smiled. "I'm here with my son."

"Mind if I say hi?" You asked. She nodded her head yes and you headed over to Lucas. You knew what the child was going through in some way, and you hoped this would make it a little easier for him to open up to you. When you got up to Lucas, you crouched down so you were at eye level with him. "How's it going?" you asked, but the boy remained silent, still drawing a picture. Your eyes jumped to the little green army men and chuckled to yourself. "Oh, I have a nephew back home who loves these things." You said. You grabbed one of the little soldiers and made gun noises before pretending that it had gotten shot as you dropped it.

You looked to see that Lucas didn't even budge. "So crayons is more of your thing?" You asked, putting the toy back and observing at what he was doing. You noticed a stack of drawings that he had done. The top one was a black circle and the one that you flipped to next was a bike. Your eyebrows furrowed at the transition."You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?" You asked, picking up a crayon. "I'm not so bad myself." You picked up a stack of construction paper and laid it down on your lap and began drawing.

You drew a picture of something on the top of your head, "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me. You just don't want to talk." You began, eyes jumping up to look at him. "But I know it was something real bad."

You fell silent for a few moments as you looked up from the paper and stared at Lucas. "I think I know how you feel." You said, continuing to draw yourself. "I wasn't exactly your age, but uh, I saw something a few years ago.." It became quiet between the two of you for a few more seconds. You stared down at the ground as I thought for a few moments. "Anyway...Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you or, uh...or believe you." You glanced back up at Lucas. "I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day with your dad on the lake." You suggested, but Lucas didn't say anything. "Okay, no problem." You muttered to yourself.

You put down your crayon and turned to the little boy. "This is for you." You said as you showed the picture to Lucas, pointing to the different people you drew. "This is my family.. That's my dad. That's my mom. These two are my best friends who are standing over there." You pointed towards where his mother was at, talking to Sam and Dean. "I'll tell you a little secret, I like the one with the short hair. His brother can be kind of a nerd, but he’s okay, too.. And these three.. they're also my best friends, more like sisters, all though they're not here. I just couldn't leave them out." You pointed to your attempt at drawing the Halliwell sisters. "And that's me." You smiled, but Lucas still didn't say anything to you. "All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas."

You put down the paper as you got up and headed back to Andrea and the brothers, you looked over your shoulder to see that Lucas had stopped drawing. He picked up your picture and observed it and you smiled to yourself. You weren't bad with kids, you knew how to handle them. And you hope somehow you managed to get through to Lucas.

"Lucas hasn't said a word," You heard Andrea explain as she was standing next to Sam, her arms crossed over her chest. "Not even to me- Not since his Dad's accident." She turned her head to glance at you.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry." Dean said, she nodded and looked at the ground.

"What are the doctors saying?" Sam asked, looking at Andrea.

She shrugged her shoulders. "That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress." She explained.

"That can't be easy for either of you." Sam sympathized, looking at Lucas than Andrea again.

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot." She looked at three of you, you could tell she was getting a little emotional. "It's just...When I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...kids are strong."

"You'd be surprised what they can deal with." You said, looking at her.

She turned to look at the three of you again. "You know, he used to have such life." She smiled at the memory as she crossed her arms over her chest. "He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth." She grinned, turning her head to look at her son, but it dropped again. "Now he just sit there, drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish-" She saw that her son was walking up now, something dangled in his hands. "Hey, sweetie."

But he ignored her as he handed a picture over to you and looked down at the ground. "Thanks, Lucas." You said while observing the picture to see that it was a house with grass and two little animals outside. Lucas walked away and went back to his drawings. All four of you looked at one another.

This was a start.

~~~

While Dean sat on his bed in the motel room he and his brother shared, just to keeping to himself, you decided to make a warm cup of coffee. You leaned against the counter as you took a sip of your drink, allowing your mind to think about Wyatt and Chris again. But it wasn't long until you could see Dean raising a brow at you, wondering what's been going on in your mind.

"What?" You asked.

Dean shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing.. what are you thinking about, though?"

"Nothing." You quickly defended yourself.

Before he could say anything, his attention on you was ripped away to the bedroom door being opened and shut. Sam had come back and walked up straight to Dean.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.' Sam said as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, he looked rather angry at his findings.

"What do you mean?" You asked. You moved a bit closer and listened to what Sam had found.

"I just drove past the Carlton house." Sam explained, looking at you and Dean while he told the unexpected news. "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

Part of you wasn't shocked at the news, but Dean asked the question that buzzed inside your mind. "He drowned?"

"Yep, in the sink." Sam said, you looked at him for a few seconds, trying to make sure what he said was true.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered to himself, turning his head to look at the ground, then at his brother. "So this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?" You questioned.

"I don't know," Dean said while looking at you and Sam. "A water wrath, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean something that controls waters..."

It was quiet between the three of you for a few moments, trying to think of a possible answer. Suddenly it clicked in your head. "...Or water that comes from the same source." You snapped your fingers, looking at both of the boys.

"The lake- which would explain why it's upping the body count." Sam went on, glancing between the both of you. "The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone almost anywhere." Dean said, jumping from the bed and heading over to the seat, putting his shoes on. "This thing is gonna happen again."

"This has got something to do with Bill Carlton," Sam suspected, glancing over at his brother.

"Obviously, it took both his kids." You stated.

"And I've been asking around. Lucas' dad, Chris- Bill Carlton's godson." Sam said, you sighed as you patted the bed, pushing yourself up.

"Let's go pay ourselves a visit to Mr. Carlton." You suggested, looking at both of the boys.

~~~

You had found the man sitting on the docks again. You walked up to him, softly calling his name. His eyes jumped up from the water to look at the three of you as all you headed up to him. You noticed he had a heartbroken expression etched onto his face.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind." You stated as he continued to stare at the lake. "We're from the department-"

"I don't care who you're with," He simply said, his voice sounded like he was on the verge of crying. "I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said that he saw something in that lake." Sam tried himself, gesturing to the lake with his shoulder. "What about you? You ever see anything out there?" But he didn't say anything, he just kept quiet as you saw his bottom lip slightly quiver. "Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death- we think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone. Its..." Mr. Carlton kept quiet for a few moments, trying to keep himself composed. "It's worse than dying."

You clenched your jaw his words. Part of you wondered if losing a child was the worst thing than losing a lover, or even a parent.

"Go away...please." Mr. Carlton muttered, trying his hardest to be polite.

The three of you did as you were told and walked back to the Impala, As you were near enough to the car, the boys were reflecting on what happened before stopping at the car.

"What do you think?" Sam asked, heading towards the passenger side.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell." Dean admitted, "I also think he's not telling us something."

"So, what now?" Sam questioned, leaning his side against the car. He turned his head to see that you were focusing on something for a long moment. "What is it?"

"Huh," You muttered to yourself, your eyes fixated on the house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something." You pulled out the picture Lucas drew for you, unfolding it as you placed it up to the house. It was almost a perfect match. All three of you looked at one another with suspicion.

~~~

"I'm sorry. But I just don't think it's a good idea." Andrea said, standing with her hands on her hips. She let the three of you in her home after trying to explain the situation the best you could, without spilling what was really happening, afraid she might freak out.

"I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes." You tried to explain, your fingers laced together.

"He won't say anything. What's good it gonna do?" Andrea questioned, looking at you with suspicion.

Sam sighed, "Andrea, we think more people might get hurt." Sam tried to explain, her eyes jumped to him with confusion. "We think something's happening out there."

She shook her head. "My husband, the others- they just drowned, that's all."

You shrugged your shoulders, "If that's what you really believe, then we'll go," Your tone became a bit sharper when you spoke again, your nerves were becoming the best of you. "But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."

It took a moment before she finally gestured for the three of you to follow behind as she lead you down a hall where you saw Lucas. He was sitting on the floor with his army men and colored construction paper spread all around him, drawing like he was the last time you saw him.

You slowly walked into the room as the other three stood in the hallway, you crouched down to the boy and smiled. "Hey Lucas, you remember me?" You asked, but Lucas just remained quiet and kept drawing, not even bothering to look up at you. You peeked at the pile of drawings, noticing that they were just pictures of bikes, almost looking identical to one another. "You know, I, uh..." You dropped down and crossed your legs so you were now sitting on the ground with Lucas. "I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is I need your help again."

You pulled out the picture from your jacket and unfolded it, before setting it down on the ground and looking up at Lucas. "How did you know to draw this?" You asked. The boy still didn't respond, he just kept coloring. "Did you know something bad was gonna happen?" Still, he remained silent. "Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." You tried to work with Lucas, but it wasn't going well, so you did another approach.

"You're scared.It's okay. I understand." You whispered. "See, a few years ago, I saw something real bad happen to my dad, and I was scared too.." You could feel both of the Winchester's eyes trailing over to you. It was extremely tough to open up about what I had seen, especially since I knew nothing about the supernatural before then, but you figured it'd get Lucas to open up.

"I didn't feel like talking, just like you, but see, my dad-" You kept quiet for a few seconds, looking up at something else as you swallowed down the lump forming inside your throat. "I knew he wanted me to be brave. And I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave." You back at Lucas, "And maybe your Dad wants you to be brave, too."

Suddenly, Lucas stopped drawing and dropped his crayon, he looked up and stared at you. Andrea was surprised at what had happened. Lucas picked up the picture he was working on and handed it over to you. You stared at it for a few moments before looking back at the boy. "Thanks, Lucas." You said, smiling at him.

You stood back up and headed to the other three, thanking Andrea for the time you could speak to Lucas before you followed behind the brothers as you let yourselves out and headed back to the Impala. Sam sat in the passenger side, observing the picture.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that until his father died." Dean explained, glancing at the picture before focusing on the road again.

"There are cases going through traumatic experience that could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions and psychic tendencies." Sam said, looking over at his brother.

"What if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" You questioned. Sam turned around in his seat and gave you a curious look as Dean was agreeing with you with a nod of his head. "It's only a matter of time until someone else drowns." You reminded them, "So if you guys have any other lead, please share." You muttered while sitting back into your seat.

Sam sighed, throwing his hand up in the air. "All right. We have another house to find."

"There's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Dean spoke up, bursting your plan.

But Sam pointed towards a building in the picture, making a new lead. "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

You got back up and looked at his discovered, you smiled. "Oh, college boy think he's so smart,' Dean remarked in a sarcastic tone.

It became quiet for about a minute between the three of you again. Sam spoke up after a while, trying to start another conversation with you. "You know, um...what you said about your dad- you didn't tell us that." Sam said, turning his head to look back at you.

"It's not a big deal." You muttered underneath your breath as you played with the lucky bracelet your mother gave you when you were six years old. "I just wanted Lucas to open up, you know?"

Sam dropped the conversation as he glanced over at his brother, who looked just as concerned as he was about you. But they both kept silent, knowing you all had more pressing matters here.

~~~

After driving around for a while, you finally found the church building. The three of you observed it as you pulled out the picture and made sure it looked like a match. You turned your head slightly, looking around for the home, it took you a few seconds until you found it right across the street.

Deciding to head over, you knocked on the front door and watched as an old aged woman with short gray hair greeted you. She lead the three of you inside as Dean was the first one to speak up. "Ma'am we're sorry to disturb you, but does a little boy live here by chance? He might wear a blue baseball cap, has a red bicycle." Dean described the little boy in the picture, and it seemed that the woman knew what he was talking about.

She looked down at the ground as her face began to show sadness. "No, sir. Not for a very long time." She shook her head, trying to explain. "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years." You glanced at the brothers, Sam looked at you with the same stare. The older woman sighed and turned her attention to a picture that was presumed to be Peter, her late son. She continuing her story. "The police never- I never had any idea what happened to him." She turned and looked back at the three of you. "He just disappeared."

As she continuing talking, you turned your head to see little green army men. You lightly pushed Sam on his shoulder as you nodded your head to the toys. The boys looked and saw what you found.

"You know, it's...it's worse than dying." She admitted, you quickly looked back at her, swallowing and looking down at your feet.

"Did he disappear from the house here- I mean, from this house?" Dean asked, correcting himself.

She looked up at him, "He was supposed to ride his bike," She took a deep breath as she continued to talk about that day. "Straight home from after school, and he never showed up."

You watched from the corner of your eyes as Dean walked off, heading over to a mirror where an old picture was tucked into one of the corners. You saw it was two little boys, hugging and smiling. He took it down and observed it for a few seconds before turning it over and reading the writing on the back.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970." Dean read, looking up at the two of you.

You walked over to Dean, leaning in, you whispered so he could hear. "We need to pay a little visit to the Carlton house again." You suggested, Dean nodded his head as he put down the picture. You turned your attention back to the older woman. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Sweeney. You've been a great help." She smiled and nodded, letting the three of you exit her home.

All of you headed back to the Impala and Dean drove back to the Carlton household. You sat up in your seat and explained what you were slowly piecing together. "Okay, this little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and this is all connected back towards Bill Carlton somehow."

"Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something." Dean commented.

"Bill- the people he loves- they're all getting punished." You said.

Dean turned his head to look at you, "What if Bill did something?"

"What if Bill killed him?" Sam interrupted, putting his theory in.

You shrugged your shoulders, thinking it could be a possibility. Dean nodded, "Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible."

The car pulled up to the home and all of you exited, looking around for Mr. Carlton. Sam called his name as he wandered around to look for him. You turned your head to the lake to see him in a boat, heading straight in the middle of the water. "Hey, check it out." You said, turning to look at the boys again. All three of you started to think of the same thing. "Goddamn it," You muttered when you realized what he was about to do

All three of you rushed to the docks. You kept calling his name as the boys pleaded for him to turn around, he just looked at you, but never stopped. And in just seconds, the boat flew into the air, causing Mr. Carlton to drop into the water and sink into the lake. You waited for a few seconds to see if he would rise back up from the water, but he never did.

~~~

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(1.3) DITW: Part one

“The quiet ones are the most traumatized”

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Warning(s): Angst, jealous reader, language, Dean being a flirt

Summary: In a small town in Wisconsin, Y/N and the brothers investigate a series of mysterious drownings officially explained as drownings.

Word count: 3,058

Previous part || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

You sat at the bar of the diner with Dean sitting next to you. Your leg bounced up and down as you concentrated on reading the journal the Halliwell’s had made for you. This was your first time looking through it in a while, it was good to freshen up your memory on some of the things you were taught about over the years.

Dean was scribbling or circling obituaries that seemed out the ordinary enough to check out. You looked over at him before down at the paper when you saw that he circled one several times for a teenage girl. You opened your mouth to say something, wondering what it was about, but the waitress came over and interrupted you.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked with a flirtatious smile, only looking at Dean. She leaned over the table, showing off her cleavage. You rolled your eyes at how desperate she seemed for his attention.

Dean looked up, the pen he was holding was now pressed against his lower lip. He couldn’t help himself but give her a friendly smile back. But unlike any other time, he wasn’t paying attention to her body "Just the check, please.“ You mumbled underneath your breath as Sam slipped back into his seat on the other side of you. She smiled and nodded her head before walking away.

You watched as Dean lowered his head and dropped the pen to the counter, a chuckle escaped past his lips as he looked over at you. “A little jealous now, are we?” He teased you, you couldn’t help but give him an annoyed look as you let out a huff. Right now, you didn’t know where you and Dean were at in your relationship. You two weren’t dating again, but every now and then he loved to get you all bothered by either allowing another girl flirt with him, or by flirting with a girl who showed no interest in him just to get a reaction out of you. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m allowed to have fun once in a while. Maybe I should make you more jealous often.”

“Oh god, please don’t.” You muttered underneath your breath. You didn’t know how much more you could take. You rolled your eyes and leaned over to point your finger at the obituary that Dean circled. "Can we focus on what we were doing?"

Dean dropped the newspaper so you and Sam could see, his finger pointed to her photo. "I think I found something. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week, Sophie Carlton, 18, walks into the lake, doesn’t walk out.” Dean explained as you glanced up from the paper to look at him. “Authorities dragged the water- nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the bodies were found, either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“Funeral?” Sam questioned.

You shrugged your shoulders. “They buried an empty coffin for closure or whatever.”

"Closure? What closure? People just don’t disappear. Other people just stop looking for them.” Sam remarked. You clenched your jaw, waiting for what was about to happen next between the brothers.

Dean looked up and stared at his brother, “Something you want to say to me?”

Sam quietly sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “The trail for Dad- it’s getting colder everyday.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.” Sam ranted on as he looked away from his brother’s glare.

Dean was getting angry. “I’m getting sick of this attitude. You don’t think I want to find Dad as much as you do? I’m the one that’s been with him every single day for the past two years while you’ve been to college going to prep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we’re going to kill everything bad between here and there, okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Can you two quit fighting focus on this case, please?"

Sam just rolled his eyes and sighed at his brother. He was quiet for a few moments until he turned the newspaper more to him. "All right, Lake Manitoc.” He said, “How far?”

~~~

The Impala stopped in front of the Carlton household in Lake Manitoc, all of you exited the car and headed up to the porch. Dean knocked on the front door as all of you waited for someone to answer. A few seconds later, a man that looked to be in his early twenties answered the door, “Will Carlton?” Dean asked, it must have been the victim’s older brother.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Will said, observing the three of you.

“I’m Agent Ford,” Dean introduced himself before pointing towards Sam that was standing on his left. “This is Agent Hamill,” He then pointed towards you, who was standing on his right. “And this is Agent Diaz. We’re with the U.S. Wildlife Service.” He flashed his fake badge to Will. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your sister, Sophie.”

Will nodded, he closed the front door behind him as he gestured for the three of you to follow him to the lake. As you stopped about a yard from the body of water, Will began to explain what happened on the day she disappeared.

“She was about a hundred yards out. That’s where she got dragged down.” He looked at the lake for a few moments before turning back to the three of you.

“Are you sure she didn’t just drown?” Dean asked, looking at Will.

“She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake.” Will said with a small smile as he turned to look at the lake again before his face fell into a saddened expression. “She’s as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

“So no splashing, no signs of distress?” Sam questioned.

Will swallowed and shook his head. “No, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Did you see any shadows in the water, maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” Sam looked at the lake for a few seconds before making eye contact with Will again.

“No, again, she was really far out there.” Will admitted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean wondered.

“No, never. Why? What do you think is out there?” Will asked, his face was growing with concern from all these peculiar questions being thrown around.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Dean explained as the two brothers began to walk off to the car, but you stood in your spot. Your eyes were kept on the man that was sitting on the dock’s.

“What about your father?” You asked, eyes jumping to Will again. “Can we talk to him?”

Will didn’t seem so happy with the idea. Sighing to himself, he turned around to glance at his father before looking back at you. “Look, if you don’t mind, I mean, he didn’t see anything, and he’s kind of been through a lot.”

You nodded your head and softly smile. “I understand. Thank you for your time.” You said before turning around and following behind the boys, heading back into the car and driving to your next stop.

~~~

“Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” The sheriff asked, walking from the front counter to the three of you so he could let you into the back.

“You sure it’s accidental?” Sam asked as he followed behind the officer. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” He was lying- that wasn’t something you’d expect out of him.

“Like what? Here, sit, please.” The officer gestured to the two chairs that sat across from his desk as he continued to stand. You took a seat as Sam sat down next to you, Dean stood behind you. “There are so indigenous carnivores in that lake. There’s nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness monster.”

“Yeah.” You muttered underneath your breath, letting a laugh part your lips, causing Sam to glance at you. “Right.”

“Will Carlton was traumatized,” The sheriff put his hands on the desk as he leaned forward. “And sometimes, the mind plays tricks.” He took a seat and continued on, looking back and forth while he spoke. “Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That’s weird, though.” Dean said, leaning forward slightly. “That’s the third missing body this year.”

“I know,” The sheriff agreed as he nodded his head. “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.” Dean nodded his head as the sheriff sighed and leaned back. “Anyway…” He threw his hands up in the air, trying to make sense. “All this- it won’t be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” You asked with confusion.

“Well, the damn,of course.” The sheriff said.

“Of course. The dam.” You nodded your head and smiled. “It uh…it sprung a leak, right?”

“It’s falling apart,” The sheriff corrected you as he explained. “And the feds won’t give us the grant to repair it. So they’ve opened the spillway. In another six months, there won’t be much of a lake.” He leaned forward in his seat again. “There won’t be much of a town, either,” You were a bit taken back by the news. “But as a Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.”

“Exactly,” You said as you nodded your head again.

Suddenly a female voice was heard, you turned around to see a woman staring at the three of you. “Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

Everyone stood up as you observed the woman, she smiled at all three of you. “Gentleman, uh, lady,” The sheriff awkwardly said, “This is my daughter.”

Dean walked right up to her and pulled his hand out for her to shake. And once again, you were back to being jealous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean.” He introduced himself as he smiled at her.

She took his hand and shook it, smiling back. “Andrea Bar. Hi.” You wanted to roll your eyes when you heard Dean say hello back in a flirty tone.

“They’re from the Wildlife Service about the lake.” The sheriff explained.

Andrea’s face dropped as she looked at the three of you. “Oh,” She said. Your eyes landed on a little boy that peaked out from her. He stood by her side and seemed a little shy being in front of you.

“Oh, hey there.” Dean smiled at the boy. “What’s your name?”

But the boy didn’t say anything in return, he just turned around and walked out as Andrea followed behind. “His name is Lucas.” The sheriff answered. You watched as Andrea joined him at a small table as he drew a picture. She pulled out a crayon and talked to him softly.

“Is he okay?” You heard Sam ask.

“My grandson’s been through a lot. We all have.” The sheriff admitted, but he changed the subject. “Well, if there’s anything else I can do for you,” He said while walking towards the front door of his office, “Please let me know.” You thanked him as all you walked out his office, but Dean stopped right across from Andrea.

“You know, now that you mentioned it,” Dean said as she stood up and looked up at him. “Could you point us in the direction of the nearest motel?”

Andrea smiled, “Lakefront Motel- go around the corner, it’s two blocks up.” She said, you smiled at her and took a step to follow her directions, but Dean wasn’t done trying to reel her in.

He lifted up a finger for you and Sam to stop. “Two- would you mind showing us?” Andrea chuckled at the strange request.

“You want her to walk two blocks?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Dean turned his head towards you, giving you a look to shut up.

“Not if that’s any trouble for her.” He said while turning around and looking at Andrea.

“I’m headed that way anyway.” She turned around and looked at her father. “I’ll be back to pick up Lucas at three o'clock.” She then leaned down and kissed her son on the forehead. “We’ll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” He kept quiet. She stood up and walked so all you could follow behind.

The three of you headed out to the outside as you walked in silence for about a block. You were enjoying the sounds of life going on around you until Dean opened his mouth and tried to make a conversation with Andrea.

“So, cute kid.” Dean said as you turned your head to look at him. She thanked him and kept quiet after that, crossing the street. “Kids are the best,huh?” He said, continuing to try and relate to the single mom. You and Sam smiled at his horrible attempts to make Andrea talk to him more. But she wasn’t having it.

You saw the motel come into view. It looked small, but cozy from the outside. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.” She said as she stopped on the sidewalk, Sam thanked her as she turned around to look at Dean. “Must be hard with your sense of direction,” She commented as Dean smiled at her, but it wasn’t going in the way he wanted it. “Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” You gritted your teeth at what came out her mouth next as Dean’s face dropped. “Enjoy your stay.” She said before running off.

“‘Kids are the best’?” Sam asked with a smirk. “You don’t even like kids.”

Dean turned around and looked at the two of you. “I love kids.” He lied.

“Name three children that you even know.” Sam said, watching as he stood there for a while, thinking of any names he could say. You laughed and rolled your eyes, lightly pushing Sam so both of you could check into the motel.

“I’m thinking!” Dean argued, following behind the two of you.

“It’d be best if you admit that you were just trying to make me jealous again.” You said, your voice coming out snippier then intended. Dean fell silent, giving you your answer.

~~~

After checking into two rooms, one for you and the other for Sam and Dean, you decided to get settled and unpack your belongings. The room was decent from what you expected from a motel. You got your belongings settled the way you found comforting all before going to check up on the boys.

You walked out of your room and down the hall until you were standing in front of their door. You lightly knocked a few times and it took a few seconds until Dean opened up the door for you to come in.

You gave him a small smile and slid yourself through, your eyes settling onto Sam, who was sitting at the desk with his laptop open, doing some research on the lake. You took a seat on the bed as Dean walked back over to his bag and pulled out some articles of clothing.

“So there was three drowning victims this year.” Sam explained, his eyes skimming something.

“And more before that?” Dean asked, throwing a shirt to a chair.

“Yeah, six more, spread out over the past thirty-five years.” Sam explained, clicking onto another article. “Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there’s something out there, it’s picking up its pace.”

Dean threw a shirt onto the bed you were sitting on, ignoring your presence. “So we got a lake monster on a binge.” He theorized as he saw you throw the shirt back at him, but missing by a bit. He caught it before it could hit the ground. “You throw like a girl.” He said as you frowned.

“This whole lake monster theory- it just bugs me.” Sam interrupted the two of you. Dean asked why as he took a few steps and stood behind his brother. You joined, getting up from the bed and headed over to the laptop, hovering over his shoulder to look at the screen. “Loch Ness, Lake Champlain- there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts,” He clicked to a website dedicated towards Lake Manitoc. “But here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.”

Sam clicked on another link of all the victims that vanished from the lake and scrolled through it. You scanned it, stopping on one that sounded familiar. You pointed at the screen. “Wait, Bar, Christopher Bar- Where have I heard that name before?"

"Christopher Bar, the victim in May.” Sam clicked on the link and began reading a newspaper article that popped up. Your eyes landed on a very familiar face, your heart dropped at what you read. “Christopher Bar was Andrea’s husband, Lucas’ father.” You saw from the corner of your eye Dean standing up straighter as Sam began reading. “Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned two hours before the kid got rescued.”

You sighed to yourself as Sam clicked on the picture, enlarging it to show Lucas wrapped in a towel. His eyes were glazed over with sadness and fear. “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” You suggested as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out.” Dean muttered, his eyes never leaving the picture. “Watching one of your parents die.” Your eyes jumped over to him as you gave him a look, he looked at you for a few seconds, but he never said anything in return as he continued to unpack.

Your mind soon trailed back to when you had watched your dad get killed right in front of you. Although you weren’t all that young when it had happened, it still haunted you to this day. And as much as you wanted to forget that day, you found yourself not being able to.

But your thoughts quickly darted back to Wyatt and Chris, you wondered how they were doing right now. And just like that, your heart was beginning to break at how much you missed them right now. You wanted to so badly go back and be there for the both of them. But it had been months and Wyatt probably forgot all about you by now.

They didn’t watch their mother and their aunts die, you knew that. Because they were safe and sound at Victor’s house. But you still knew how much it was going to hurt them knowing their family was gone. So in some ways, they could relate to Lucas. And so could you.

~~~

Next part

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@mikadwinchester​ // @hobby27​ // @time-truth-and-hearts​ // @akshi8278​ // @inked-poet​pipe

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(1.2) Wendigo: Part one

“Nightmares and bears”

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Warning(s): Violence, angst

Summary: Y/N and the boys follow the coordinates in John’s journal and land in Colorado, where they investigate the disappearance of several campers. Meanwhile, Y/N struggles with the nightmares of her parent’s death.

Word count: 4,384

Previous part || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

Sweat beaded down your forehead as you pressed the cloth you had to your mouth and your nose, keeping you from breathing in any of the fumes the fire gave off. This was one big nightmare that you thought would never happen to you; The apartment you had in San Francisco, California, had caught on fire. You didn’t exactly know what caused it, you were always so careful to make sure everything was off and unplugged by the time you would leave. You rarely had any candles lit, and when you did, you’d triple check them to see if they were still burning before you left.

You shouldn’t have been in here, you should’ve stayed put when the fireman told you to after you had come back from the grocery store, but your parents were here. They were visiting you for the week, and they stayed inside while you went out to get some ingredients for the dinner you were going to be making.

“Mom! Dad!” Your voice was muffled, but it was still loud enough for either of them to hear, if they were still alive. You flinched when part of the ceiling came crashing down just a few feet away from you. Your heart was beating rapidly inside of your chest as you prayed that your parents were okay.

You stopped in your spot when you noticed that the fire was blocking you from going any further. You were on your way to the room they were staying in, but there was no chance in getting in unless you wanted to catch on fire.

“Y/N!” You could hear a voice you had heard only a couple of times before coming from behind you and you turned around to see Piper Halliwell and her sister, Paige Matthews. They had been trying to keep you safe ever since they swore they saw a ‘demon’ coming after you. You would always laugh at such a thing, but now you were wondering how the hell they had gotten in here so fast. “We saw a shadow standing near the window of your bedroom when we were outside and I’m pretty that’s it’s the demon that’s after you. We have to get you out of here.”

“No!” You protested against what they were trying to do, you’d blame yourself if you left and your parents ended up dead because of you. “I’m not going anywhere until I find my parents!”

“Honey, I know you want to find your parents, but you’re going to die if you stay here.” Paige tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. All three of you flinched with another part of the ceiling came crashing down again, this time, it grazed your arm, burning a part of your flesh and you couldn’t help but let out a loud scream of pain.

“Y/N, come on. We have to get you out of here, I can get my husband to heal you.” Piper told you as she reached her hand out for you. You stood there for a few moments as you stared at her, hesitant to leave your parents behind. And it seemed she was catching on. “You’re only nineteen, your parents wouldn’t want you to die at such a young age trying to look for them, they would want you alive.”

Letting out a sigh, you knew she was right. You grabbed onto her hand as she took a hold of her sister’s, but before Paige could get a chance to orb out of there and to the safety of Piper’s home, you three caught a glimpse of a man’s figure.

“Get her out of here, now!” You heard your dad’s voice calling out to the three of you as he started rushing towards you. “He’s coming for her!”

“Daddy!” You called out to him and let go of Piper’s hand as you stepped forward to go over to him, but you were quickly pulled back when the demon you didn’t believe was after you had showed up behind him. He stabbed your dad in the neck, and let the sharp blade cut all the way down the middle.

You let out a scream of terror as you watched your dad’s body drop to the ground, all before your eyes trailed up to meet the demon’s yellow ones. A smirk stretched wide across his lips at the fact he now had you in his sight.

“Piper, blow him up!” Paige ordered at her sister, who had no second thoughts in using her powers on the demon. But when it only sent him stumbling backwards instead of blowing him to bits and pie, Piper grabbed a hold of your hand again, telling her little sister to get going before he had his chance at hurting you.

And in seconds, Paige was orbing all three of you out of there.

~~~

A terrified gasp escaped your throat as your eyelids ripped wide open. For a moment, it took you a while to realize you were just having a nightmare as you looked around to see that you were still in the backseat of Dean’s Impala, rock music filled your ears as you controlled your heavy breathing, allowing you to calm down. You turned your head slightly to see the brothers were sitting in the front seats, everything was just like it was before you had fallen asleep.

“Are you okay?”

Dean glanced into the mirror to and stared at you with a worried look in his eye. You didn’t know why you were beginning to have nightmares about the night your parents passed away, but it had been happening ever since you came across the brothers again. This was your third time having this nightmare, and it wasn’t getting any better. But Dean didn’t know this, neither did Sam.

You still nodded your head, pretending that everything was fine as you adjusted yourself in your seat. “Where are we?” You curiously asked. You found yourself remembering the conversation you heard from the brothers about heading to Colorado from the coordinates John left in his journal for his oldest son to find before you had fallen asleep.

“Just outside of Grand Junction.” Dean replied, never taking his eyes off the road.

Sam pulled out the paper map again so it was resting against his lap. He tried to keep himself focused on it before speaking up again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t have left Stanford so soon.”

“Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing.” Dean reminded his little brother. “If you want to find the thing that killed Jessica….”

“Got to find Dad first.” Sam finished, still observing the map.

“Dad disappearing, and this thing shows up again after twenty years? It’s not a coincidence.” Dean looked over at his brother. “Dad will have answers. He’ll know what to do.”

“It’s weird, man.” Sam mumbled, his face scrunching up. “The coordinates he left us, this Black Water Ridge…”

“What about it?” Dean asked.

“There’s nothing there. It’s just woods.” Sam remarked, putting the map back down into his lap again after taking a closer look. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?” The boys looked at each another, each sharing a moment of confusion before letting the car fall into a silence.

A little while later, the three of you pulled up into the Ranger’s Station to find more information on the place their father pointed them to. Sam was observing a 3-D looking map, Dean was staring at some picture as you stood next to the window looking out at the woods. You kept silent to yourself, as you remembered all of the camping trips you and your parents would take every summer when you were younger. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in a tent with trees surrounding you and a fire burning so you could roast your marshmallows as you listened to the stories your dad would tell you.

“Dude, check out the size of this frigging’ bear.” Dean said, you wiped at a tear you didn’t even realize was falling down your face as you turned your head to land your eyes on a framed picture of a huge grizzly bear.

Sam walked over from the map, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at the photograph. “…And a dozen or more grizzles in the area. It’s no nature hike, that’s for sure.” You gulped as you titled your head to the side and observed the picture for a few more moments.

“You kids aren’t planning to out near Black Water Ridge, by any chance?” A voice called out. You quickly turned around to see there was a ranger standing across the room with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised, waiting patiently for an answer.

“Oh, no, sir. We’re environmental-study majors from U.C. Boulder- just working on a paper.” Sam lied, flashing an innocent smile.

“Recycle, man.” Dean chuckled out, throwing his fist in the air for some added effect.

“Bull.” The ranger said. You froze in fear. “You’re friends with that Hailey girl, right?” He asked. The ranger grabbed his mug of coffee before heading over towards the opposite side of his desk. You and the boys followed behind.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger…” You lied, quickly dropping your eyes to his name tag. “Wilkinson.”

“Well, I will tell you what exactly I told her.” The ranger explained, the three of you walked closer to hear what he was saying. “Her brother filled out a back country permit saying he wouldn’t be back from Black Water until the 24th. So it’s not exactly a missing persons now, is it? Tell that girl to quit worrying. I’m sure her brother is just fine.” He mumbled the last part, slowly walking away.

“We will.” Dean said. “Well, that Hailey girl’s quite a pistol, huh?”

The ranger sighed, “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that back country permit.” Dean suggested, stepping closer to the ranger. “You know, so she could see her brother’s return date.”

Dean managed to persuade the ranger to give him a copy of the report. You followed behind the brothers as you all stepped out of the office and went back to walking on the dirt path, heading to the Impala. Dean chuckled to himself as he looked over the piece of paper once more.

“What, are you cruising for a hook up or something?” You asked, not even realizing that you said it out loud, that was until you caught his gaze that seemed to be written with confusion at what you were implying.

“What do you mean?” Dean questioned. His eyebrows furrowed together.

“The coordinates point to Black Water Ridge. So what are we waiting for? Let’s just go find your dad. Why do we need to talk to this girl anyway?” You questioned back.

“What, are you jealous?” Dean asked in a curious tone of voice. Truth be told, you were. But it’s been awkward between the both of you since you told him and his brother about your parents. He still loved you, in fact, he wanted to be with you again. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for bringing up your parents. Sure, he didn’t know about any of what happened, but it still gnawed at him and now he feels as though you think he’s too inconsiderate. You slipped your hands into your back pockets and looked down at your feet, mumbling a simple lie and telling him that you weren’t jealous. He felt a bit disappointed at your answer, but he brushed it off as he spoke up again. “Look, maybe we just know what we’re walking into before we actually do it.“

You turned your head away from the man just to roll your eyes once more. After a few seconds of silence, you looked back to see that Dean kept his gaze fixated on you. Your eyebrows furrowed in wonder. “What?” You asked.

“Why are you acting all ‘shoot first, ask questions later’?” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know!” You said, your voice rising in slight annoyance at the man. “I’m just exhausted! And I want this case over with.” With that, you opened up the backseat and slid yourself into the Impala, hoping that you could at least sleep on the way to this girl’s house as the boys followed you in suit.

~~~

The three of you arrived at the Collins’ household just as the sun was setting; you stood with your hands inside your pockets as you watched Dean press the doorbell. It was a grueling minute before the front door opened. A girl that looked to be about your age was the one who opened up the front door. She gave the three of you confused glances, looking each of you over before the older Winchester spoke up.

“You must be Hailey Collins. I’m Dean, this is Sam and Y/N.” Dean introduced the three of you. “We’re rangers with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask you some questions about your brother Tommy.”

“Let me see some I.D.” Hailey said. The man wasted no time and pulled out one of his fake badges for her. He pressed it up to the screen door, letting her scan over it for a few moments before looking up at the three of you again, Dean dropped his arms to his side. It felt like an eternity passed before she broke the silence. “Come in.” She opened up the screen door for you to walk in, but just as you were about take your first step, her eyes landed on the parked Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.” Dean said. He broke out into a flirtatious smile, acting as if he enjoyed the fact that she took notice.

“Nice car.” Hailey admitted, nodding her head once. And with that, she turned around and headed further inside the house. Dean turned his head and gave his brother a smirk, the kind that could be easily translated, he was into this chick. You rolled your eyes and pushed past him.

All of you managed to walk inside the house and follow the noise to the dining room, but Hailey was nowhere in sight. You smiled politely at a boy, who looked to be just a teenager, but he didn’t break his concentration from the table when he looked up for just a second. You saw a flick of black hair coming from the kitchen, Hailey must have wandered in there after she let all of you in.

“So, if Tommy’s not due back for a while, how do you know something wrong?” Sam asked, starting off the conversation again.

Hailey came back into the dining room with two plastic bowls filled with food, she answered the question after she placed them on the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails photos, stupid little videos.” She said. Her voice became harder when she spoke up again. “But we haven’t heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get cell reception.” You said, raising your eyebrows.

“He’s got a satellite phone, too.” Hailey remarked, she turned her back and walked away again.

“Could it be he’s just having fun and forget to check in?” Dean questioned.

The boy who had been quiet since you and the brothers been here finally spoke up. “He wouldn’t do that.” He almost snapped at the oldest Winchester from his accusation.

“Our parents are gone. It’s just me and my two brothers.” Hailey confessed. “We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

“Can I see those pictures he sent you?” Sam asked, wrapping his fingers together and pointing.

Hailey agreed, getting all four of you around her computer as she pulled up files of her brother, Tommy. You noticed most of them were from the camping trip. She pulled up the last video he sent her.

“Hey Hailey,” Tommy said with a grin, you noticed that it was taken at night in the comfort of his tent. “Day six. We’re still out near Black Water Ridge. We’re fine, keeping safe, so don’t worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.” Maybe it was you going crazy, but you swore you saw a shadow quickly run past the tent during the few seconds of the video. You looked at both the boys, but Sam was the only one that turned to look back at you, sharing the same confused look.

“We’ll find your brother. We’re heading out to Black Ridge first thing.” Dean said.

“Then maybe I’ll see you there.” Hailey said as she brushed past Dean. Both brothers looked at one another. “Look, I can’t sit around here anymore, so I hired a guide. I’m heading out there in the morning, and I’m gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know you feel.” Dean muttered, Hailey looked at him.

“Hey, would you mind forwarding these to me?” You asked, pointing to the files. “I think they would help me a little better, you know.” She gave you a slightly confused look, but she nodded her head and agreed.

~~~

That same night, the three of you went to a bar. It was a busy night with people crowding the place, guys playing a game of pool and waitresses passing around glasses of beer. The last bar you ever stepped into was P3, a club that Piper owned. It was weird being somewhere completely different without the sister’s surrounding you.

“So, what did you come up with that research of yours?” You turned your head to look at Dean, he was staring at you, nodding towards your bag that sat on the floor.

You reached for your bag, placing it on the table and pulled out the laptop you’ve had since you were twenty one and your notebook. “So, Black Water Ridge doesn’t get a lot of traffic- local campers mostly- but, still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there.” You explained, watching as Sam began to pull up the video with your laptop. “The strange thing is, they were never found.”

“Any before that?” Dean asked, watching as you pulled out a newspaper article you found online.

“Yeah,” You said, handing the paper to Dean and Sam to look at. “In 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack. And, again, in 1959, and again, before that in 1936- every 23 years, just like clock work.”

“Okay, watch this. Here is the clincher.” Sam said, pulling up Tommy’s video. “I downloaded that guy Tommy’s video to the laptop.” He fast forwarded the video until it was just seconds away from the part that confused you. He clicked on a button a few times, letting the video go frame by frame to show you and Dean.

“Do it again,” Dean said, leaning it closer to take a better look.

Sam rewound the video by a few seconds and clicked a button three times to let you see the video in slow motion. You could clearly see the shadow pass by the tent. “That’s three frames. It’s a fraction of a second.” Sam explained, “Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean slapped both of you on the shoulders, “I told you something weird was going on.” He stated in a matter of fact tone. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. I got one more thing that’s gonna make you jump for joy.” You sarcastically remarked. “In the ‘59 attack, one camper survived the supposed grizzly attack, just a kid- barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

“Is there a name?” Dean asked, taking a look at the article again.

“Yup, Sam has his address and everything. I think we could check him out after we eat dinner.” You said, grabbing a menu and looking at what to eat. “Because I don’t know about you two, but I am starving.”

You watched as Dean’s lips stretched into a slight smirk as he leaned in closer to his brother to whisper something in his ear. The smile on Sam’s face made you wonder what exactly it was Dean had said to him.

~~~

“Look, Ranger, I don’t know why you’re asking me about this.” An older man muttered, letting the three of you into his home. You noticed the man was now in sixties, dressed in sweats and an old bathrobe. A cigarette was hanging out of his mouth and it looked like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. You watched as Dean closed the door behind him and looked around the place. “It’s public record.” He went on. “I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a-”

“Grizzly? That’s what attacked them?” Sam questioned as the room fell silent for a few moments. With his back turned to you, all you could see was a ring of smoke he blew out and the nodding of his head.

“The other people that went missing that year- those bear attacks, too?” Dean asked, taking a few steps forward to the older man. The man blinked a few times before looking away, ignoring Dean’s questions. “What about all the people that missing this year? Same thing?”

“If we know what we’re dealing with, we could stop it.” Your voice was soft, you tried to get the man to feel comfortable, but it didn’t work.

Pulling out the cigarette, he looked at you straight in the eye. “I seriously doubt that.” He stated. “Anyways, I don’t see the difference it would make.” He sat down in a seat right next to the window he was once standing at, reaching for a drink and muttering, “You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody ever did.”

“Mr. Shaw…” Sam took a few steps forward, slowly making his way over and taking a seat next to the man. His tone was soft and reassuring. “What did you see?”

He sighed to himself, you watched as the look on his face slowly turned in to some sort of pain. Like he was just remembering what he went through all those years ago. His eyes were full of sadness. “Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid to well. I heard it, though.” His eyebrows slightly furrowed together as he recollected on the memory. “A roar…” Sam turned to look at you and Dean, before looking back at the man. “…Like no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?” Sam speculated, the man nodded his head. “Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin.” The man confessed. “I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn’t smash a window or break the door- it unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that?” You had to look at the boys, something about this story made your stomach turn into knots. And it was only getting worse. “I didn’t even wake up until I heard my parents screaming.”

“It killed them?” You found yourself asking in a quiet tone.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The man recalled, the sadness was becoming too much for him.

“Why it left me alive- I’ve been asking that myself ever since. It did leave me this, though.” You watched as he pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal four deep wounds on the left side of his collar bone.

“There’s something evil in those woods.” He admitted, nodding his head. “It was some sort of demon.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at the older man, trying your hardest to keep yourself calm all before turning around and following the brothers out to the hall and shut the door.

“Spirits and demons don’t have to unlock doors.” Dean stated, “They just go through the walls.”

“So it’s probably something else- something corporeal.” Sam guessed.

Dean looked over at his brother, his face was written with confusion. “'Corporeal’? Excuse me, professor?”

“Shut up,” Sam remarked back. Typical brothers. “So, what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves- it could be a skin walker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we’re talking about, we’re talking about a creature,” Dean stopped and looked at his brother. “And it’s corporeal, which means we can kill it.”

You rolled your eyes and followed behind the brothers until both of you headed outside, you watched as Dean headed towards his trunk and opened up the secret compartment, he lifted up a shotgun to use it as a base to keep it open. He pulled out a cameo green duffel bag and began putting in different weapons inside the bag. Sam headed over and began helping.

“We can’t let that Hailey girl out there.” You declared, not wanting the girl to get hurt.

“What are we gonna tell her- she can’t go into the woods because of a big, scary monster?” Dean muttered, looking over his shoulder to stare at you.

You gave him a glare. “Yeah, I do actually. It’s not safe for her to head out there with that creature roaming around the place. She could get hurt.”

“Her brother’s missing, Y/N.” He reminded you, you rolled your eyes. “She’s not just gonna sit this out. No, we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

“So finding your father isn’t good enough?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side, watching as he pulled out the bag full of weapons. Sam was keeping quiet, but you knew he was feeling the same about this situation. He ripped the gun away and slammed the hood down. “Now you gotta babysit too?”

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean asked, his face slowly twitching into anger.

“Nothing.” You lied.

“Y/N..”

“Maybe my problem is the fact we’re on this stupid case, and you’re too busy focusing on a way to possibly get into this chick’s pants!” Your outburst seemed to have shocked Dean. He went to speak up to you, but you made your way to the Impala and slipped yourself into the backseat, slamming the door behind you. Maybe it was wrong of you to say that, it was wrong to get jealous like you were because you and Dean weren’t together anymore, you haven’t been for seven years.

But since meeting him again, you thought maybe, just maybe there was a chance. After all, he had given you a promise the day he had to leave with his father; if you two ever were to run into each other again, you’d be together again. You were his first love, and you were his first heart break. The day he had to leave you, was the most emotional day of his life. He didn’t want it to happen again.

~~~

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(1.1) Pilot: Part one

“Reunited”

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Warning(s): Angst, language

Episode summary: Y/N gets reunited with the Winchester’s after years of being apart. And although she is happy to be around them again, she finds herself lying about who she really is because of what they do.

Word count: 4,872

Previous part || Supernatural rewrite S01 masterlist

After months of jumping from many different motels in different states, you never expected to come back to the state you had left; it was late at night but you could see very clearly the sign for Jericho passing you by as you drove up towards the bridge Constance Welch had jumped off of. The last motel you were at in this state, you had busied yourself by reading the newspaper, which had an article that caught your attention. There were disappearances of men that had gone back ten years, all of them occurring on the similar road.

You thought that maybe, just maybe, you could investigate and see what this all was about. It could’ve been demonic, or it could’ve been paranormal. Ever since meeting the Halliwells, you were dead set on learning all about the Supernatural. It came familiar to you. And although you didn’t have the three sisters by your side, you couldn’t back down from this.

But as you were getting closer to the bridge, you found your car suddenly coming to a slow stop as it made a noise that concerned you in more ways than one. “Aw, shit.” You muttered underneath your breath when you realized your car had broken down and by the looks of it, you were in the middle of no where. Absolutely no one was in sight to help you out, or so you thought.

You expected this to happen, as it was a little over seventeen years old. Your adoptive father had passed it down to you as soon as you had gotten your driver’s license at the age of sixteen. But you never expected this to happen today.

You tried your best to restart the engine, but you finally gave up after three attempts. A defeated sigh escaped your mouth as you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed the bag that sat in the passenger side of the car all before popping the trunk open and exiting your vehicle.

You slammed the door shut in frustration and carried your backpack all the way over to the trunk, where your suitcases full of clothes would be and another duffel bag stashed away in the corner. You unzipped your suitcases and started shoving as many clothes as you could in to the two bags that would be easy enough to carry. You didn’t feel like dragging your suitcases all the way to the bus station after you were done with this investigation.

Happy with the outfits you had managed to get into both of the bags, you slammed the trunk shut before situating each bag onto one of your shoulders. They were a bit heavy for you, but you’d have to deal with it if you wanted more clothing than just the outfit you were already wearing.

You started walking up to the bridge and then across it. But you found yourself stopping right in your tracks when you could see a car just few feet away from where you were standing. You wondered if it was another victim who had disappeared, until you heard the sounds of two men arguing.

Dropping your bags towards the ground, you ran over to where the sound was coming from to see two men who seemed to be in their twenties. The shorter one had the other pinned up against one of the large, metal posts. It seemed as though he had pissed him off, possibly by something he had said, or something he had done. Either way, you couldn’t let this go on for much longer. One wrong move, and one of them could end up falling straight into the water.

“Hey!” You called out to the two men as you headed forward to them. Neither of them expected there to be somebody else on this bridge, but before they both had the chance to pull away, you were already prying the shorter man off of the taller one. “What the hell is going on? You could have killed him!”

“Please,” The man scoffed at what you were saying, as if you were crazy. “He’s my brother, I wouldn’t kill him no matter how much he pisses me off.”

You almost found yourself stumbling forward when he yanked himself out of your grasp, but you caught yourself before putting your full focus onto him as he turned around to face you. And just like that, you felt yourself freezing up when you saw a familiar face, one that you didn’t think you’d ever see again; Dean Winchester, the only man you ever found yourself truly loving was standing right in front of you and it didn’t take so long to see that he recognized you as well.

This was similar to how you both met the very first time when you were in high school back when you still lived in Indiana with your adoptive parents. He wasn’t there for very long and he knew that, so he decided to make the most of his time there and pull a prank on you and your entire cheer team. You were rehearsing, but as you were doing so, he had swapped out the CD with a completely different one and it had thrown everyone off guard. While the other girls were talking amongst themselves, wondering what the hell had happened, you had noticed Dean walking out of the gym with his head held high.

You had no idea who he was at the time, but you still followed him out of the room to catch up to him. You were extremely annoyed with him for ruining your practice, but things changed when you both met eye to eye. You went weak in the knees, and you fell hard for him. He caught feelings for you, too. Harder than he had fallen for any other girl because in his eyes, you were different. But things were broken off due to the fact he had to leave with his dad again.

Dean’s lips stretched into a smile after the longest time of just staring at you in disbelief. The first girl he had ever loved was standing right in front of him and it came as a completely surprise to him. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Dean?” You spoke his name as if it were a question, a wide grin stretched across your lips as you suddenly stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him in a tight hug.

Sam Winchester, his younger brother, felt his expression fall into a look of confusion as he stared at the both of you. He didn’t expect there to be someone on this bridge, let alone someone that his brother knew. But when he repeated your name over and over in his mind, it suddenly clicked. How could he not have remembered you from the very start? You had helped him out with his bully problem by giving him some advice that he found helpful in a way, and due to that, he grew a little crush on you. Of course, he couldn't say anything. Because you were dating his brother.

“Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N?” Sam spoke up towards you as you and Dean pulled away from each other.

You nodded your head, happy to see the Winchester brothers again after so many years. Even though you didn’t quite know why they were here. “That’s right. Hi, Sammy.” You greeted the younger man. You watched as a wide smile stretched across his lips from the sight of you, immediately stepping forward and engulfing you into a hug. “My god, you guys look so much more different than how you did in high school, all grown up, I barely even recognized you!”

“Look who’s talking.” Sam chuckled at what you were saying as you pulled away from each other. “What are you doing here?”

You let out a nervous chuckle from the man’s question before falling silent. You didn’t exactly know how to tell him you were checking out a case that could possibly lead you to a ghost you’d have to get rid of. “Well, I-..” You were about give him a lie, but you could see an expression on both of the boy’s faces that suddenly made you feel uneasy at they stared off into a different direction.

You turned your head to see what they were looking at; You saw a woman in white standing on top of the railing. She looked at the three of you for a few moments. You watched as she slowly eased herself closer to the ledge, all until what you could see was the flash of white fabric blowing in the wind, until it vanished too.

The three of you quickly ran to the ledge, frantically looking for the woman. But she disappeared from sight, as if she was never there. “Where did she go?” Dean demanded, looking at the water below.

“I don’t know.” Sam confessed. Then the sound of an engine rang inside your ears, your eyebrows furrowed. You turned your head to see the headlights of the car you had seen just moments ago was turned on as the engine purred once more. Something wasn’t right about this.

“Who’s driving that car?” You asked. You looked up at Dean, who didn’t take his eyes off the car as he dug into his coat pocket, pulling out the keys, making you realize that it was his car. You gulped in fear. The sounds of tires squealing against the pavement rang inside your ears, you couldn’t help yourself but look at the car like a deer in headlights, watching as the car came straight at you.

You heard of ghosts possessing humans, but you have never knew of a ghost to possess an object, let alone, a freaking car. But of course, this kind of thing was bound to cross your line of sight eventually. Hell, you’ve lived with three witches, who fought off so many demons and other monsters you thought could never exist.

You felt someone grab a hold of your hand, yanking you from your thoughts as you began running for your life. You tried your hardest to keep up with the boys, Dean was practically dragging you along as he kept pace with his brother. The three of you turned to the right and jumped off the bridge and straight into the water.

When the water engulfed your body, it felt like a thousand needles dug into your skin, the temperature was at least below zero. After swimming your way to the top, you tried your hardest to drag yourself out, but your body felt like it weighed a ton from your soaked clothes. Someone called your name as you finally found yourself touching the muddy ground. You grunted in disgust as you pulled yourself next to Dean, who looked about as worse as you.

Both of you were covered in a layer of mud. All you could do was lay on the ground, catching your breath from the rush of excitement. Sam’s laugh echoed as you turned your head to look up, he was sitting on the ledge, looking at you two with a huge grin. He was the only smart one that held on to the ledge, and he was mocking you for it. You reached your arm up and flipped him off.

When you and Dean finally made it back up to the bridge, the first thing that Dean asked about was his car. “Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now.” Sam commented, looking at the Impala.

“That Constance chick- what a bitch!” Dean shouted into the air as if she was standing right in front of the three of you. Of course, nothing happened.

“Well, she didn’t want us digging around, that’s for sure.” Sam remarked, watching as his brother sat down on the hood of the car. He followed a few seconds later.

“How come you guys didn’t freak out when you saw her?” You couldn’t help yourself but curiously ask. The brothers both looked at you, as Dean wondered the same thing. “Let’s just say I know a lot about the Supernatural. And I especially came across a few situations like the past few years.”

“So, you’re a hunter too?” Dean asked, feeling a little bit of joy from what he was hearing. You raised a brow up at the strange term he used. Did he mean hunter as in killing deer and any other animal that lived out on the woods? It seemed he got your look, as he explained what he and his brother did. “Going after all of the supernatural. Sam and I are hunters.”

Sam shook his head at the label his brother put on him. “I’m not a hunter, I’m a college student, Dean and my dad are the hunters.”

You nodded your head in understandment as a small smile stretched across your lips. “Yeah, I guess you guys can call me a hunter.” You were lying right through your teeth right now and you hated that, but the boys were hunters of the supernatural and the people you looked up to as family were witches, if either of them were to find out about them, they, especially Dean, would not even want to associate himself with you no matter how much he still loved you. The Halliwell sisters have ran into witch hunters many times during their life. Hunters of the supernatural were no different.

“So, where does the trail go from here, genius?” Sam asked his brother, breaking you from your thoughts as he sat on the hood of the Impala right next to his brother.

You tugged on your smelly shirt, gagging in disgust from the smell that lingered off. “I need to shower.” You grunted out. Sam leaned over and sniffed you and you crinkled your nose and gave him a look at his weird behavior.

“You smell like a toilet,” He commented. You rolled your eyes, trying to control the urge to throw him off the bridge and make him suffer the same fate that you and his brother had.

~~~

“Two rooms please,” Dean dropped his master-card on top of the motel registry. It was morning by the time you and the boys found a motel. The older man on the other side of the deck picked up the card and looked it over, never commenting on the smell that you must be giving off by now.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” The man asked, taking his time to observe the name on the card. You gave the man a curious look. “That other guy, Bert Afarmian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Both boys looked at one another, quickly paying for the rooms and heading off. Instead of getting yourselves settled, the three of you stopped at a room you were suddenly growing curious about to take a peek around. You watched as Sam picked the lock for a few seconds, until the door swung open. Dean stepped inside while Sam grabbed you by the back of your jacket and tugged you inside, breaking your concentration after watching out for what they were doing.

Your eyes wandered around the state of the room you were pulled into; photographs and strings of yarn were tacked to the walls, there was objects spread across the furniture, an odd smell lingered around the air. You watched as Dean went over and turned on the light. Noticing that there was a half eaten hamburger resting below the lamp. He picked it up and took a whiff, but quickly throwing it back down and groaned. That explained the smell.

“I don’t think he’s been here for a couple days, at least.” Dean said, turning his head to look at his brother, who was kneeling and observing a ring of salt.

“Salt, cat’s-eye shells.” Sam muttered, looking around at the contents of the room. “He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in.”

“Who is he?” You couldn’t help yourself but wonder who the boys were talking about.

“Our dad.” Dean answered your question. You asked him if Bert was actually their father, of course, that name was just a cover up so no one could seem too suspicious. “His real name is John, I’ve told you about him a lot when we were in high school, I thought.”

You shrugged your shoulders and mumbled, “I guess I don’t remember those I never met.”

Sam stood back up and headed over to his brother, bringing you two back to what you were here for. “What do you got here?” Sam questioned. You followed in suit, your eyes wandered over a board full of photographs of victims and information scribbled below.

“Centennial highway victims.” Dean commented, observing the work his father done. “I don’t get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicity. There’s always a connection, right?”

Sam turned around and headed over to the walls across from the two of you. Not giving it much interest, you looked over your shoulder to see what Sam had found. When your eyes landed on the pictures of burning bodies and a skeleton with a group of people, you were taken back by the dark content.

“What do these guys have in common?” Dean asked, ignoring the fact that you and Sam followed another trail full of other articles or small drawings that must’ve dated back a few centuries to this millennium .

“Dad figured it out,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the little section.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, walking over to the two of you.

“Hey, he found the same article I did.” Your finger tapped against the paper, pointing out the article the three of you had been previously reading. “Constance Welch. She’s a Woman in White.”

Dean turned and looked over at the victims, a smirk spread across his face. “You sly dogs.” He amused himself. “All right, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

“She might have another weakness.” Sam suggested.

“No, Dad would want to make sure. He’d dig her up. Does it say where she’s buried?” Dean asked, heading over to look at the article again.

“Not that I can tell.” Sam said, looking at the photograph of Constance. “If I were Dad, though, I would go ask her husband,” His fingers tapped against the picture of Joseph. “If he’s still alive.”

“All right why don’t you go look for an address?” Dean added, tearing his eyes away from the picture posted below the article. “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

You nodded your head in agreement, tugging on the mud that was now hardening on your clothes and making it awkward to walk. You headed over to the door, but Sam’s voice stopped the both of you.

“Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad- I’m sorry.” Sam apologized to his brother, you could see the guilt written across his face.

Dean raised his hand up, stopping his brother. “No chickflick moments.”

Sam laughed, smiling at his brother. “All right, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean sassed back.

You blinked a few times at what had just happened between the brothers. This is something you sure have never seen before when you had met them once before. “You guys are such.. dorks.” You told them, leaving them a remark they both laughed at. You couldn’t help yourself but to join in on the laughter all before you stepped outside of the room and headed to your own.

~~~

After taking a much needed shower to get that disgusting mud off your hair and body, you emerged from the bathroom with fresh clothes on. Your bare feet walked across the motel carpet before you slipped on a pair of new shoes, hating the fact that you had to throw away your favorite pair. But there was a chance you could get the smell out of it, and it would take a miracle to scrub through the thick layer of dirt caked on. As you began putting your dirty clothes and shampoo back into your bag that sat on top of your bed, knocking at the door caused you to stop in your actions. You stood for a few seconds, listening as you heard the person knock again before they spoke up.

“Open up, it’s me.” You recognized the voice as Dean. Letting out a sigh of relief, you headed to the door and opened it up, taking notice that he had washed himself.

The beloved, beat up leather jacket was never far from his outfit. One of the many things you had remembered he told you that it was a gift from his father. You secretly loved it on him, and you didn’t know it, but he loved it on you when he let you wear it one day after school as he walked you to your home. It was fall around the time you two were in high school and you forgot your jacket back in your locker, but you were all too exhausted to go back to get it.

“You clean up well.” You said, a smile spreading across your lips.

“I’m heading to the diner down the street. Wanna come with me?” He asked.

“Is Aframin paying?” He nodded his head, you shrugged your shoulders. “Why not. I wouldn’t mind having a decent meal before heading to jail for identity theft.”

You closed the door behind you and walked down the stairs with Dean, falling into a comfortable silence as you headed to the car. But seconds later you felt his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you backwards. You gave him a confused glance at his behavior. He nodded his head to his right. You looked over to see there was a cop car, standing next to it was the two deputies the brothers had ran into earlier and the motel man that checked you in, he pointed at the both of you.

You turned around, cursing underneath your breath. You watched as Dean pulled out his cell phone, making a call to his brother for him to take off. At least he could make it out. You and Dean were about to go to prison for whatever crime the police discovered.

“Stay calm, I’ll handle this.” Dean muttered as the both of you turned around to see the two deputies had approached the both of you. He flashed a smile at the both of them, seeming innocent enough. “Problem officers?”

“Where is your partner?” Deputy Jaffe questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. It seemed that he wasn’t in the mood for any funny business that Dean was trying to pull over on him to get out of this situation. His eyes trailed over to you, wondering who the hell you were. But he kept his questions to himself as he looked back at Dean when the man spoke up.

“Partner? What-What partner?” Dean stuttered out, you could tell he was trying to act innocent. He looked over at you and smiled. Suddenly you felt him wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you into his chest. “I was just taking my girl out for a quick lunch. Is that crime, sir?” You felt his hands slowly slide to your butt, squeezing it for some effect. You bit your lip, blushing at what he had just done.

But it didn’t help, the other deputy headed to the motel where Sam was still in, panic slowly set inside of you when you realized he was the only person that could get you out of this. You only hoped that he somehow managed to get out before it was too late.

“So fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?” Deputy Jaffe asked.

“My boobs.” Dean remarked, chuckling at his dumb comment that he thought was amusing. It was just the nail in the coffin. You shook your head knowing what was coming next.

You watched the deputy pulled out a pair of handcuffs, he started repeating the Miranda Rights you’ve heard before, considering how an old friend of yours was a cop. The metal clicked together as you felt your hands become restrained behind your back.

You were roughly dragged down and pushed down against the hood of the police car. Dean was slammed down as the deputy read his rights. You’ve been to jail once before for doing something you hadn’t done, but Paige managed to get you out with just a simple orb. Now, you were on your own.

~~~

You sat inside a small interrogation room, both your wrists were cuffed to the table so you wouldn’t go anywhere. It felt like hours of you just sitting in this chair and watching the tinted glass window dance with shadows of each person that walked by. You kept thinking that each one passing by was going to be an officer telling you that your entire life was over. What were you going to say when one showed up?

You held your breath as you watched the door slowly open, waiting for some balding man to tell you that your life was over, it was going to be twenty to life in prison for the crime. But when you saw a flash of sandy blonde hair and green eyes, you found yourself breathing normally again. Dean snuck himself through the door without being caught and closed it quietly behind him. “What the hell are you doing here?” You whispered, watching as he headed to you. He slammed something down before pulling out a silver object from his pocket. It took you a second to realize it was a paper clip he must have found.

“I’m here to bust you out, sweetheart.” He mumbled, leaning over so he could start picking at the handcuffs to get you free.

“My hero.” You said, a small smile coming to your face as you glanced over at the leather journal that was sitting just inches from you. “What’s that?” You curiously asked, reaching to take a peek at it right after your hands became free. But Dean was quick to snatch it away before you had a chance to touch it, he shoved it into his jacket.

“I’ll explain later. We need to get out here before the cops come back.” Dean said.

Both of you escaped to an empty hallway that lead towards an office with a possible way to escape. It seemed that something was going on with the amount of noise and chaos that could be heard from behind the door. You watched as Dean peeked his out the window where you could hear officers running around the place and leaving one by one. After a few minutes, everything became silent. You watched as Dean opened the door and slowly walk in and disappearing. A minute later, he returned with a leather pouch, you were quick to notice the guns that peeked out.

“Are you trying to get us arrested again?” You hissed at him, taken back by what he had stolen for whatever reason.

He rolled his eyes and pulled out two weapons; he handed one to you and then putting the one back into the pouch. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” He asked, you nodded your head, although you only shot a gun once in your lifetime, you still remembered everything. “Good.”

You followed behind as Dean lead you to the end of the hall. You opened it up and suddenly felt a rush of cold air, you looked to see that you were just a step away from the rooftop.

“It’s for protection, just in case something happens.” Dean muttered as he began walking to the edge. You rolled your eyes and saw what he was looking for. You pushed him out of the way and headed down the metal ladder first.

You landed on your feet when you had to jump from the large gap from where the ladder ended. You watched as Dean quickly caught up and ran out of the alleyway you found yourselves in. Dean headed to a payphone after yours were confiscated from the cops. He made a call to Sam, standing outside and looking around at the nighttime scenery.

“Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? That’s pretty illegal.” You heard Dean speak through the phone. His voice was happy sounding, as if he was proud of his brother. It was quiet for a few moments until Dean spoke up again.

“Listen, we got to talk.” Sam must be talking on the other end because all you heard were soft mummers and something about a woman in white, he must be talking about Constance. “Sammy, would you shut up for a second?…That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He’s gone. Dad left Jericho.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach at the words you just heard. It seemed as though they were looking for their father, and they’ve come so close, but it was all for nothing. “I’ve got his journal…Well, he did this time.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That must have been what you saw earlier. “Same old ex-Marine crap. When he wants to let us know where he’s going….I’m not sure yet.” Suddenly you could hear the echo of tires squealing and Dean calling his brother’s name frantically at the phone.

“What just happened?” You asked as you watched Dean head out of the phone booth. His face was pale. He didn’t say anything, he just ran fast as he could. You only could suck in a breath and follow behind in hopes that you could keep up with him.

~~~

Next part

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