(My) Nuisance Mini Series

You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.

You Belong To Me || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy

Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?

Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end

Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.

During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.

Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.

It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.

“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.

“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”

Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.

It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.

This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.

The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.

Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.

“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.

She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.

The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.

“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.

These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.

“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.

“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”

“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.

“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”

“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.

“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.

Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.

BETTER THAN MEAT

Sumarry: Luffy discovers that his favorite smell is no longer the smell of meat.

OPLA!Luffy X Reader

Warnings: I think none, I just hope it gives you butterflies in your stomach lol

N/A: You asked me for this so much and here it is, it's horrible, but it's a good start.

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"Where's Y/n, Nami?" Luffy says while Nami is still looking at the clothes.

"She's over there changing, let's go Y/n!" Nami screams.

"I guess I didn't like that." Y/n says showing off and upon hearing his voice, Luffy turns his head to look.

He doesn't know exactly what he felt at that moment, but it was something very similar to a heart attack.

"What do you think Luffy?" Y/n says observing Luffy's serious expression.

"You are the most beautiful pirate I have ever seen in my entire life." Y/n blushes when she hears this and Zoro scoffs.

"That's very kind of you Luffy, thank you." Y/n says awkwardly.

"Seriously you... you would easily be mistaken for a princess or something." Luffy says getting up and going to Y/n.

Y/n smiles at Luffy who is right in front of her now, and suddenly he starts moving his nose sniffing.

"And what is that smell?" Luffy says trying to identify the smell.

"It must be from dinner Luffy."

"No no, it's something else." And then he does something that leaves everyone wide-eyed.

Luffy puts his nose on Y/n's neck, sniffing deeply, sending shivers all over Y/n's body.

"Luffy don't do that." She says laughing and pushing his shoulders awkwardly.

“Your smell better than meat Y/n!” Luffy says laughing and she feels her cheeks heat up.

"That really surprised me." Zoro says laughing a little.

"Y/n can I smell you more often?" Luffy asks smiling.

"I think you can?"

And it doesn't end here

Y/n is sitting next to Luffy during dinner, she is drinking when she suddenly feels something warm on her neck and turns red as a tomato when she sees Luffy's hair and realizes it was him sniffing her neck again, almost making her to drown.

"Luffy for the love of God don't do that." She says pushing him awkwardly again.

"You really smell good ." He says smiling, and she feels her heart soften.

Y/n doesn't know what to do or say so she just turns forward again, seeing this Luffy's smile disappears

"Oh you don't like that Y/n?" Luffy says loudly, unintentionally drawing the attention of the entire table.

"No, don't worry Luffy, it's okay." She smiles and puts her hand on his shoulder.

But no, it wasn't okay, Luffy thought about Y/n's reaction during dinner, during his speech and everything.

What he least wanted was to hurt or offend Y/n, she was too special to him, it made him so anxious that he simply couldn't wait until the next day to talk to Y/n, so here he is facing the bedroom door her.

Before he can knock on the door, Y/n opens it and is surprised to see Luffy there.

"Oh hi Luffy, everything okay?"

"I'd like to apologize if I made you uncomfortable hi something like that it wasn't my intention." Y/n thinks she fell in love with Luffy even more after hearing him say that.

"Oh no Lu, it's okay, I… I liked that." Y/n says embarrassed as she admits this and he smiles at that.

"That's great, because I like doing this too." He says and moves closer to smell Y/n again, but this time, she tilts her head to give him better access.

But when he is moving away from her, he stops in the middle of the way with their noses almost touching, and then Luffy gives Y/n a quick peck on the lips, quickly moving her face away and smiling.

"Damn why did you do that? It must have made her uncomfortable again" He is torturing himself with his thoughts when Y/n speaks again.

"Do you want to go find the kitchen?" Y/n says and his smile widens.

"Yes, let's go!" Luffy grabs Y/n's wrist and pulls her along with him.

He's happy that his favorite person in the world isn't mad at him, and she's happy that her favorite pirate cares about her so much.

love young bro...

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Soulbound Ch 4

In The Beginning: (Y/N)'s Version

3rd Person POV:

(Y/N) and Dean are asleep in the motel room, Dean on one bed while (Y/N) is asleep on the other. Sam was supposed to be asleep on the floor, the Winchester boys usually taking turns so (Y/N) could always have the bed. But Sam, tonight, was awake and dressed. He grabs his coat and looks at his brother and surrogate sister before leaving the room. 

Sam walks outside as Ruby pulls up in an old Camaro. He gets in the passenger side and looks at her. "Ready?" She asks him.

"Definitely."

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:

"It's all your fault!" My mother screamed, kicking me again as I cry out in pain. "It's all because of you."

I try to get to my hands and knees, only for her foot to make contact with my side, rolling me onto my back. She kneels next to me as I try to back away, but her hand grabs my neck, nails digging into the skin. My hands grab her wrist, trying to pry it off with no avail. She sinks her other hand into my chest, squeezing my heart as hard as she can, making me gag and gurgle on my own blood.

"I wish I never had you..."

I gasp and sit up on the bed, an aching feeling in my chest. I pant heavily and let out a yelp, seeing a figure at the foot of my bed. Calming down as I see the familiar trenchcoat. 

"Hello (Y/N). What were you dreaming about?" The gravelly voice of Castiel reaches my ears.

"Don't worry about it." I mumble, looking over to see Dean's bed empty and Sam not on the floor. "Where are the boys?"

The angel ignores my question, "Listen to me. You have to stop it."

"Stop what?"

Castiel doesn't say anything, only putting two fingers to my forehead.

~~~~~~~

"Move it lady, you can't sleep here." I hear a voice say, and feeling a nudge on my shoulder. I jump slightly and open my eyes, a police officer standing over me. 

I nod quietly and sit up as the police officer walks away. I look at the bench I'm sitting on, seeing an advertisement for a lawyer, the phone number has a Sioux Falls area code. I look at the surrounding buildings, recognizing some of them from when Bobby and I would go into town. 

I see Katherine's Diner, where Bobby would take me when my report cards showed good grades at school. The post office was next to it, then the grocery store. But the buildings and the details looked, newer? Less worn with age.

I take my phone out of my pocket and dial Bobby's number but I have no signal. "Fuck..." I mumble, getting up and going into the diner, seeing a newspaper on a rack by the door. 'Continental Airlines Crashes: Killing 28' is the headline. The date reads November 20, 1987. 

My eyes widen in shock, this is three days before the demon kills my family. Two and a half months after I was born. 

"Be careful now, (D/N), ya hear?" I turn around, seeing a waitress talking to a man with (H/C) and (E/C). Is that...my dad? My eyebrows furrow as I decide to follow him out of the diner, keeping a distance. I turn a corner around a laundromat, bumping into someone. "Shit- sorry.." I tail off, seeing Castiel, his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "Castiel? What is this?"

The angel tilts his head slightly, removing his hands, "What does it look like?"

"Is it real?" It barely comes out in a whisper, looking up at him with sad eyes.

"Very."

"S-So angels got their hands on a TARDIS? How did I get here?" I stutter.

"Time is fluid, (Y/N). It's not easy but we can bend it on occasion," Castiel says, looking at the street then back at me.

"Then bend it back! Or tell me what the hell I'm doing here!" My voice raises slightly.

His blue eyes bore into my (E/C) ones, "I told you. You have to stop it."

"Stop what? That demon from possessing my mom?" As soon as I get the question out, a car horn blares loudly, making me turn my head. When I look back at Castiel, I see he's gone. "Oh come on!"

~~~~~~~

After catching up to my dad again, I followed him as he walked home. To the house where my mom and my baby self were. Neither of my biological parents were hunters as far as I'm aware, so I'm sure he didn't notice. Their house was a quaint little two-story building, white with light blue trim around the windows and door, much farther inside town than Bobby's. 

From a distance I can see my parents getting in their car, my dad holding a baby carrier. I take a moment to break into the car belonging to the neighbors four or five houses down while my dad secures the baby carrier in the backseat. I quickly get inside the car and hotwire it like Bobby showed me. I usually didn't have to do this part, Dean usually stole the cars.

I follow them to the diner again, parking on the otherside of the parking lot from them. I watch as they go inside, looking for any sign that my mom is already possessed. I go around to the side of the building as they get seated at a booth. My dad is still carrying baby-me in the carrier.

I watch from the window, honestly feeling like a grade-A creep. I hear the flap of wings that's getting all too familiar. "Can you at least tell me if she's possessed yet?" I don't even look at him, keeping my eyes on my mother.

"No, no she's not." Castiel's gravelly voice speaks up from a couple feet behind me.

"Why am I here to stop this? Demons will just keep coming for me," I finally look back at him.

His stoicism breaks for a second, looking a little guilty. "I can explain more in due time."

"Does Sam and Dean even know where I am? Does my dad?" My eyebrows furrow as I cross my arms over my chest.

"No. Sam is...off. Dean is preoccupied with his own business. As for your father, he's researching more seals."

"Take me back, I don't want to watch my parents die," my voice breaks a little, much to my dismay, but it's almost easy to feel vulnerable with Castiel. Stupid soulbond.

His guilty look deepens, "I can't. I'm sorry. I.." he sighs, "I have to go, watch out." With another flutter of wings, he disappears.

"Watch out? Watch out for what?" I call back, only to be met with silence. A pair of arms wrap around my middle, holding my tightly as I struggle. I grunt as I try to pry the arms off before swinging my elbow back and feeling it collide with the side of someone's head. The arms let go and I turn around. My dad clutches the side of his head, glaring at me. 

"Why're you following us?" He asks angrily.

"Are you crazy?" I retort, making the man swing at me. His hit lands, connecting with my cheekbone. I grunt, he swings again, but this time I grab his arm and swing him into the side of the building. I could feel my cheekbone swell and bruise. I hold my dad against the wall, his front against the brick. 

"You've been trailing us since my house!" He yells, pushing off the wall and grabbing the collar of my shirt. He pins me where he just was, my hands grabbing his wrist.

"I don't know what you're talking about-" I start before he interrupts me.

"Really?" 

I try to pry him off of me, but he only drags me forward then slams me against the brick. The back of my head collides with the wall, making me grit my teeth, my vision darkening around the edges a little. "O-Okay how about we talk about this, are you a hunter?" 

"Hunter? Like camo and a rifle? No, what the hell?" My dad looks at me with crinkled eyebrows. He looks conflicted, almost like there's familiarity behind his eyes. He lets go of my shirt and I slide down the wall as my head pounds. "I better not ever see you again. If you so much as look at my wife or daughter, I'll kill you." He threatens, walking away, presumably back to my mom who's still inside. 

I reach around, clutching the back of my head. Bringing my hand back out in front of me I don't see any blood, that's a good sign. But I would bet money on a minor concussion. "Well, you just injured your daughter ya fuck," I grumble, slowly standing up and regaining my barings. 

~~~~~~~

I down my third cup of gas station coffee, trying to stay awake as I sit in the stolen car in front of my parents house. Partially to keep watch and partially to not fall asleep, which is dangerous with a head injury. 

The lights are off and it's quiet. Not eerily quiet, but it's...safe. It seems like a peaceful neighborhood, ya know, where kids are out playing in the yards with other neighborhood kids. The school bus stop on the corner and moms calling to their kids to not forget their lunches. Family life. The apple pie life as Dean would put it. Something I was screwed out of.

"Do I even want to stop it?" I ask myself quietly. If I did, Bobby wouldn't adopt me. I never would meet Sam and Dean Winchester. I wouldn't know monsters exist. I wouldn't know how to fight, or maybe I would based on how my dad kicked my ass. I did a little digging, learning my dad was in the military. He's only been home for a year. Which tracks with my birth. That explains how he could fight so fluidly.

I sigh to myself, honestly still conflicted on if I should even save them. And it makes me feel like shit. I mean, they're my parents, and it's my job to protect people from monsters. But at the same time, I don't know these people. And I don't want to not have the life I have now. I can't imagine not sitting in a little diner with Sam and Dean every other day. I can't imagine not helping Bobby with research or drinking beers with him and the boys. 

Bobby and I placed the last few bricks down, dusting off our hands. 

"Ready, kid?" He asked fourteen-year-old me.

I nod, a little giddy as I go and grab some lawn chairs and circling them around the newly built firepit. I called and asked Sam and Dean if they'd come over and decided they were gonna come up from their finished case in Louisiana, and they'd be here anytime. Bobby pours ice into a cooler nearby, putting several cases worth of beers in it as well. I knew he was gonna let me have a couple before making me switch to water.

He slams the cooler shut as the rumbling of the Impala pulls up in front of the house. It's sunset, or right about. Bobby asked them to bring a couple pizzas with them too, and not to worry about beer, he obviously had that covered. Bobby and I walk around to the front of the house, seeing Sam holding the pizzas. Sam was eighteen, Dean was twenty-two. It was right before Sam took off for college. 

I smile widely, running up and hugging Dean first, happy to see the two men I would consider my brothers. I let go of Dean and hug Sam from the side so I don't make him drop the pizzas. "It's good to see you boys, where's your dad?" Bobby asks, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

"He, uh, went on another case." Sam said, his voice full of tension. And both boys probably fought with their father to get here.

"Forget John okay? We made something for you guys!" I basically bounce with excitement, pulling Sam by his wrist, Dean and Bobby following. All three of them were smiling, the tension slowly forgotten as we round the corner.

"Ta-da!" I grin, gesturing to the firepit in the middle of the dirt. 

The Winchester boys grin as Bobby lights the fire. We all sit around the flames, drinking beer, eating pizza, and relaxing. A night I will never forget.

Yeah, I can't imagine my life without that.

~~~~~~~

Deciding I needed advice, I went to the best hunter I knew. I drove to the outskirts of town, seeing the all too familiar 'Singer's Salvage Yard' sign as I pull into the dirt driveway. Getting out of the car, it honestly doesn't look like it's changed too much. I walk up the stairs to the porch and knock on the door.

Bobby answers the door after a couple minutes, albeit twenty-two years younger, "what do you want?"

"Hi- uh, Bobby Singer?" I ask.

"Who's asking?" He grumbles.

I fidget nervously, "look, I don't know if you'll believe me, but I need advice, hunter to hunter."

Bobby reluctantly lets me inside, but not before splashing me with holy water. I sigh in irritation, pulling the collar of my shirt aside so he can see my anti-possession tattoo. "Not a demon." For good measure, I walk over to the bookshelf I know he hides a silver knife in. I hold out my arm, using the silver blade to cut just below my elbow as I grit my teeth. "Not a shapeshifter."

Bobby nods in apprehensive acceptance. "alright out with it kid. Why are you here?"

"My name is (Y/N). Like I said, I don't know if you'll believe me. But in about a day and a half, a demon is going to kill my family, and you exorcise it. And you take me in." I huff.

"Yeah you're right I don't believe you. Get the fuck out of my house." Bobby's eyebrows furrow as he gets angry. 

"N-No Bobby it's true! You're aware there's a demon in town aren't you?" I stutter.

"Of course I am! The same bastard killed my wife!" He yelled. Shit. 

His wife died less than two weeks before I was born. Bobby always had a hard time around my birthday, but he never made it a problem, always making sure to celebrate it with me anyway. 

"Bobby I...I know about Karen, you wouldn't tell me until I was a teenager. You told me that when you found me, you had to protect me from the demons, because you had failed to protect Karen from them." My voice almost comes out in a whisper, getting emotional. I gesture to myself, "and obviously you do a damn good job." Bobby stays silent, I can tell he's also a little emotional. 

I walk up to him, holding my hand out for him to shake, "my name is (Y/N) Singer. I'm your daughter."

~~~~~~~

Bobby sits in stunned silence after I explain everything. I told him about the demon, my parents, Sam and Dean. "So the demon, it comes after you tomorrow night?" 

I nod, "I'm not sure why yet." I lie. "I'm assuming that's why I'm here, twenty-two years in the past."

"How'd you get here?" 

"Hitched a ride from an angel." I look over some newspapers on Bobby's desk, several articles on demonic omens.

"Excuse me? An angel?" 

"Yep, angels are real. Blew my mind too." I glance up at him with a chuckle, deciding to leave out the part that I'm bound to one.

"So-uh, what do you need to know kid?" Bobby asks, seemingly still in shock about what's happening.

"I just- I was sent here to prevent my parents from getting killed. But if that happens, you wouldn't adopt me. I wouldn't meet Sam and Dean. I mean, because they died when I was so young I don't know if I want to lose you and the Winchesters." I sigh, taking a seat at Bobby's dining table as he slides a beer my way.

I open it and take a sip, Bobby sits across from me with his own beer, "That's a hell of a conflict, kid. If you were specifically brought here to save them, maybe you should. No one deserves to die that way."

I nod in understanding, looking down at the beer bottle in my hand. "But I won't ever meet you, or the boys."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I'll introduce myself to your folks, be a family friend." He tries to comfort weakly. 

"Better than nothing, I suppose."

~~~~~~~

That night, Bobby let me crash on his couch. I was thankful for a place to sleep that wasn't a stolen car. That night and into the next morning were uneventful, save for Bobby and I prepping to fight a demon. It's all a blur of holy water, salt, and weapons.

Once we were ready we went out to Bobby's car, saying he will scrap the stolen one for me after I'm transported back to my time. We loaded up the car and got in, heading back to my parents' house. 

By the time we were prepared, leaving Bobby's house and got to my parents' house, it was evening. We waited in the car outside their house for about 10 minutes before my mother got home from wherever she was. After she goes inside, we get out of the car. 

Coming up to the front door, we can hear yelling, making Bobby kick the door in. We quickly make our way up the stairs, hearing my dad yelling and my baby-self crying. I bust open my parents' bedroom door, my mother whips her head around to look at us, eyes black. My dad stands on the otherside of her, back against the wall. Baby-me is hysterically crying on the bed, knowing something is wrong. Mom's possessed and pissed. She quickly waves her wrist, sending Bobby flying back into the hallway. 

With another wrist wave I'm pulled towards her, her fist clutching the collar of my shirt, "Well, well, well. I didn't know Singers could time travel, still got that angel wrapped around your finger in the future?" She chuckles. The bedroom door slams, separating me from Bobby.

My hands grip her wrist as I fling my head forward. The top of my forehead collides with my mom's nose, making her let me go. I stumble back as my dad takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around my mother's neck, making her choke. I get my knife out of my pocket as she flicks her wrist again, sending it out of my hands and clattering to the floor. I could hear Bobby trying to break down the door, with little success. 

My mom breaks out of my dad's hold, sending him to the floor. I advance again, but instead she waves her hand again, pushing my parents' dresser. The piece of furniture pins me to the wall, I grunt trying to push it away. My mom picks up my knife with a sadistic grin, while my dad is on the floor, she stabs him in the stomach.

"No!" I scream, trying harder to push the dresser off of me, tears clouding my vision. I don't even know why, I hardly know these people, but he's my dad. My mom stabs him again...again...and again. Blood pools out of my dad's abdomen, his hand gripping the hilt of the blade while the other struggles to push her away in his weakened state.

Bobby finally bursts the door open, splashing holy water on my mother. She screeches at her skin burns, the sound fading out along with the sound of baby-me crying. 

~~~~~~~

I gasp and wake up in the motel bed, looking around frantically. Castiel stands at the foot of the bed as I sit up, holding a hand to my head. He looks sad almost, looking at the tear streaks on my cheeks.

A couple more tears fall as I speak up first, "I-I couldn't stop any of it. She still got possessed."

Castiel moves around the bed to sit in front of me, "Don't be too hard on yourself. You couldn't have stopped it."

"What?"

He reaches up slowly, gently wiping a stray tear off my cheek, "Destiny can't be changed, (Y/N). All roads lead to the same destination." He lets his hand drop back down.

"Then why'd you send me back?" I ask, my eyebrows crinkling.

"For the truth. Now you know why your mother got possessed." The angel looks down at his lap, as if he's ashamed that he put me in this situation.

I look around, seeing the bed next to mine completely undisturbed, meaning Sam never slept in it. I move my gaze to the floor seeing Dean is gone as well. "Where's Sam and Dean?"

"We know what Azazel did to Sam. What we don't know is why- what the endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." 

"Okay- where's Sam and Dean?" I ask more insistently, not wanting to sound so dismissive but they wouldn't just leave me here like this.

"425 Waterman." Castiel says, "Dean took his car. I can fly you." He stands up, grabbing my jacket off the dining table nearby and handing it to me. I nod signaling that I'm ready. The angel puts his hand on my shoulder, I blink and next thing I know we are at the address.

Castiel turns, looking down at me with serious eyes, "Sam is headed down a dangerous road, (Y/N), and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will."

(A/N): So I hope this chapter made sense with (Y/N)'s backstory and stuff. I already know when (Y/N) and Cas's first kiss is gonna be so hopefully I can throw in some cute moments up until then that aren't completely out of character for Castiel. If something doesn't make sense in this part please tell me so I can fix it.

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@fairy-alix @harryssatellitee

Master of Puppets

Summary : You meet someone who caught your attention the first time, and he was all you desired.

But what happens when that desire is taken for granted?

Pairings: Shuntaro Chishiya x Fem!reader

Chapter 1:

Running across the apartment complex sure was a workout. The loud screams of the people getting massacred was enough to give you that adrenaline rush that you needed. Even if you feel your limbs go numb you would not dare give up so quickly. Not sure where to run off to, you let your body naturally guide you to the top of the complex. As you reached the top, you see a figure at the very corner. It was that mysterious guy you saw at the entrance of the complex. His white hoodie stood out to you along with this his light hair peaking out of his hood. Instead of heading to his direction, you felt frozen in place. Your body would not move and all you could do was look at him. He locked eyes with you, startling you in your place. Like a deer in the headlights, good job Y/N.  Feeling your heart aggressively palpitating against your chest you couldn’t help but turn around and run. Why did you run away? He’s obviously not the tagger are you stupid? You don’t know why, but those few seconds of eye contact with him gave you an unexplained feeling. Your heart was beating more than it should and you feel your cheeks flushed. What the hell was that?

The round finished quicker than you expected as a few people found the safe room. Leaving the apartment complex you were glad that it was finally over. Your body was in need of a deep rest after all that fiasco. Deep in your thoughts you failed to realize the figure standing in front of you, and you feel your body hit against an object.

“Oh, Sorry I-” you look up and see the same guy with the white hoodie. Your mouth stopped and it was as if your brain just lost all function. He looks at you curiously, wondering how you were going to finish your sentence, but nothing was coming out.

“Be careful next time.” Was all he said as he walked away.

And this was the first time you have met him.

****

The Beach was definitely not something you expected. Literally, you thought it was an actual beach, not a resort with people partying all the time. You had to admit, it was nice seeing everyone enjoying their time. It lets them know that even though it might be their last time here,  they should enjoy their days to the fullest. 

Walking around the bar you saw people dancing like there’s no tomorrow, people drunk off their asses and makeout sessions happening left and right. Seeing the people around you having fun made you want to get that same satisfaction. You grabbed a bottle of liquor from the counter and started to drink. The burning sensation immediately hit your throat. Taking few extra sips you walked to the dance floor and started to dance. You weren’t the best dancer but who cares? It’s not like anybody here is going to judge you based on how well you could dance. Several minutes go by and you feel the effects of the alcohol hitting you. Instead of continuing to dance you make your way to the pool lounge and jump right into the pool and screamed right before you hit the water. Laughter escaped your lips, particularly for no reason at all. You were definitely tipsy at this point. Swimming around the pool felt therapeutic, it was as if the water was giving you one giant hug that you didn’t want to get out of. Looking up, you see people laying down on their lounge chairs talking amongst each other. Observing everyone in the room, your eyes lock in to a particular person. One that seemed oddly familiar to you. He was leaning against the fence just looking at you, amused. Where have I seen him? Several seconds of eye contact go by and you remember. The guy from the five of spades game. You feel your heart do a somersault, your cheeks flaring up and limbs go numb. The alcohol really is hitting me harder this time then ever before. Breaking the eye contact, you swim to the other side of the pool to get off. When you look back, he was no longer there. Was I hallucinating? I had to be. 

When you made it to your room one big jump to your bed was all it took for you to completely knock out.

And maybe, that was the second time that you have seen him. 

****

The game was inside an abandoned cafe. A bell chimes when you open the door, grabbing the attention of the man and a woman already inside. In front of you was a table with two phones. Being the third one there, you picked it up to register for the game. Taking a closer look around the inside of the cafe, you noticed the old artworks plastered around the room. Despire the state of condition they are in, you couldn’t help but enjoy some of the work. One in particular that you enjoyed was the skeletal drawing of the face of a deer in black and white. You make your way closer to the painting, studying it. 

The bell chimes indicating that the last person has joined the game. You didn’t immediately turn around to see who it was, for whatever reason the artwork was very captivating to you. As the game was about to begin you turn around and see the same man once again. At this point you weren’t sure if its just a coincidence or if you’re going absolutely crazy. He didn’t notice you at first either. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Something in him told him he was being watched and as he looked up his eyes met yours. You quickly averted your eyes to one of the paintings against the wall. 

The game screen chimes, indicating that the game is about to begin. There are 4 participants and the difficulty is a three of hearts. Great. The game is called Spyfall. The rule for the game is to figure out who is the spy. The game ends when the spy is captured. 

Each person is seated at one of the large tables in the back of the cafe. There is one card faced down in each seat. There is a large distance among the person sitting in front of you and adjacent, to prevent any cheating. 

You pick up the card, hoping that you are not the spy. Looking at your card you see that the location is an Amusement park. You try not make it obvious that you aren’t spy, holding in the huge relief that has been carrying on you. If anything, this game specifically is more difficult for the spy because there is less people in the game.  Now, since you are obviously not the spy and the there is 4 participants total, meaning that there is at least a 33% chance that one of the other players is the spy. Attentiveness is important in this game, so the responses of the questions being asked are clues to what the role of the player could be. 

As everyone was asking each other questions and answering them, it was starting to get a bit difficult to figure out who the spy is. If anything, it seems as if they all are answering the questions unsuspiciously. The time was ticking and it was getting harder to think of other questions. 

“You seem a little nervous there aren’t you?” said the woman to you.

“What?”

“Well you keep fidgeting with your fingers and looking down, seems pretty suspicious of you. I mean, why would you be so nervous?”

You weren’t sure how to even respond to that. I mean you obviously know you aren’t the spy you have the card to prove it, but you can’t reveal that as it will give away the answer to the real spy, which is game over for you.

“Cat got your tongue?” she mocked. 

“I’m just taken aback with what you said, I mean what’s your proof?”

“You didn’t even answer my question. Why are you nervous?”

“I just naturally am. Is that a problem? I mean im not the spy.” At this point she was annoying the hell out of you and you wanted nothing more then to shut her up.

“Yeah that’s something the spy would say.” she rolled her eyes. “My vote is for her. She’s the spy i know it.”

You were in disbelief. It honestly didn’t even matter if you’re the actual spy or not in this game because if you are voted against then it’s game over for you. The game does not end until the real spy is captured or if the spy is the last one standing. 

You looked around to see what the other two men thought. The older man was silent, while the guy in the white hoodie had a smirk on his face, looking pretty amused at the cat fight that seems to have occurred.

“Well, I mean she is right. Your responses were one-worded and you were mostly quiet throughout the entire game. Everyone else here seemed to have talked more than you.” said the older man.

“See, it’s obvious.” barked the woman. 

“Im not the spy! How many times do I have to fucking tell you, and even if i do try to explain myself you’re just gonna dismiss my response as a lie.” you yelled. “Ask me more questions then and i will gladly answer whatever you guys throw at me.

The woman gave you a dirty look and the older man looked as if he was thinking of another question to ask you very specifically.

“Ok then, is this place somewhere you would enjoy being at?” asked the older man.

“Absolutely not,” you responded.

He looked at you confused.. “Oh, and why is that?”

“Because I will get sick.” and with that the older man seems to understand.

It gets quiet for a while until another voice begins to speak, “This game could’ve easily ended a while ago.” 

“See, everyone believes me!” said the woman. 

“Just because someone isn’t responding the way you want them to does not mean that they are the spy. Their responses were very straight forward.” explained the younger man.

The woman is startled, not knowing how to respond to that.

“And based on how you were responding specifically, you were too talkative. You kept trying to explain things when there was no need. It was starting to get annoying. At one point you slipped up on your answer and you didn’t even realize.” he chuckles. “Then you suddenly accuse her of being the spy. Seems like desperation isn’t it?”

You could see the woman’s face getting red, both of anger and embarrassment.

“You were getting desperate that you could not figure out what the exact location is, and in order to save yourself you thought diverting the attention to her would make you appear less suspicious, when in fact it only made you do the opposite.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was this guy really defending you? You are absolutely grateful for that but it was something you did not expect to come out of his mouth.

The older man seems to agree with what the younger man said as he nods in agreement. “Well I guess that concludes the game.” 

You all voted for the woman, and when she reveal her card she was in fact the spy. “I hate you all” was all she said before the laser immediately kills her. You look at the younger man who was now facing you. Feeling your tongue tied you had difficulty thanking the man that defended you, “T-t-thanks.” you said to him.

He gives you a smirk, “I wasn’t really trying to help you if that’s what you were thinking.”

“N-no not at all.” you look down, unsure on what else to say. He gets up to leave the building but you call him out before he could open the door. 

“Wait!” you yelled. He looks back at you, locking eyes with you with that same old smirk.

“What’s your name”

“Chishiya.” He turns around and walks out.

And this was the third time you have seen Chishiya, where it all began.  

little treasures, life's pleasures

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Now that Soap knows when to pay attention, he realizes you and Ghost aren't as subtle as you think you are. Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. part one.

You don’t use your married name, Soap discovers.

Honestly, he gets it; Simon Riley is allegedly dead to the world with a seemingly endless list of enemies who’d love to get their hands on anything they could use to bring down The Ghost and, based on what Soap saw in your file, you’ve acquired quite the list of enemies yourself. If he were in either of your shoes, Soap would probably do the same.

He stands to the side, leaning with his back to the wall as Price talks about…something? Soap knows he should be paying attention- he had fully intended to, he swears- but then you and Ghost showed up, sitting down right next to each other. There’s an appropriate amount of distance between your chairs, but at the top of the meeting, Ghost folds his arms and leans back, long legs spread just wide enough for his knee to lightly tap against yours, and Soap immediately loses all interest in everything else. 

He keeps his eyes on Price, giving the illusion that he’s listening, but angles his head just enough to see you and Ghost through his peripherals. You’re both staring straight ahead, fully focused on whatever Price is talking about, but every so often Ghost shifts just so and nudges his knee against yours. It’s a subtle movement, not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it, and happens once every fifteen minutes or so. 

Around the forty-five-minute mark, Price asks you a question and you lean forward, answering to the best of your knowledge. Ghost shifts, sitting up a little straighter, watching as you and Price go back and forth. When you’ve finished talking, and Price is satisfied with your answers, you lean back in your chair and Soap sees Ghost's knee nudge against yours once more. He catches your quick glance over to Ghost, though he’s back to paying attention to Price, and the way you try to hide your smile by pretending to scratch the tip of your nose. 

The next time Ghost shifts, you meet him in the middle and set your knee against his, staying that way for the remainder of the meeting. 

-

If Soap thought Ghost's hovering was bad when you were recovering from your leg injury after Las Almas, he doesn’t want to know what Ghost will be like after this.

He’ll probably move his bed into the infirmary, Soap laughs to himself as he wraps bandages around your poorly patched head. The ambush had taken the team by surprise, with a private quickly ushering you away for safety. Unfortunately, “safety” turned out to be in the direct line of an oncoming grenade and the ensuing explosion knocked you head-first into a nearby humvee.

You don’t remember much after that. At some point after the fight, you're picked up, then placed in the passenger seat of the humvee. Someone orders you to talk Soap through bandaging the bleeding slice on the side of your head before Soap appears holding a roll of gauze and a canteen of water.

(Soap assumes it’s to give you something to concentrate on so you don’t fall asleep and worsen your concussion, but you know it’s so Ghost can find the private in charge of your safety and give him the dressing down of a lifetime.)

“You’re wrapping my eye, Soap,” you groan, leaning slightly away from him. He curses under his breath, unraveling the last loop of bandages.

“Sorry, Doc. Not as good at this as you,” Soap jokes. 

“You were doing fine until you tried to turn me into a pirate.” Soap scoffs in mock offense and playfully nudges your shoulder. He readjusts the bandage near your left ear, moving it up just slightly when he sees the thin black lines peeking out from the bottom. Curiosity overtakes him, as he “adjusts” your bandages again, lifting the bottom to reveal a simple outline of a skull he knows all too well tattooed in black ink just behind your ear. 

“How’re we doing?” 

Soap slides the bandage back down at the sudden sound of Ghost’s voice as the Lieutenant approaches the humvee. 

“All good to go,” Soap says, clapping his hands and stepping back. You feel around the bandages, humming in satisfaction.

“Not bad, Soap,” you smile at him, “keep practicing and you might put me out of a job.” You give him a wink before pushing forward to stand on your feet. You stumble only a little, using the humvee door for balance and Soap doesn’t miss the slight way Ghost’s hands flinch to help you before you right yourself.

“Five minutes and I’ll be ready to move,” you nod to Ghost.

“I’ll hold you to that.” There’s a brief moment, where Ghost’s intense gaze focuses directly on you, eyes moving back and forth between your head wound and your face. His shoulders tense, hands flexing into fists before he looks towards Soap and the moment’s gone. 

“Let’s go, Sergeant,” Ghost calls, walking past Soap towards the other vehicles. Soap follows, turning back just once to see the private who had been with you approach you sheepishly, eyes cast down at the ground. You set a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, saying something Soap’s too far away to hear, and turn to lead him back to your vehicle.

-

It isn’t his intention to end up in the infirmary first thing in the morning, but Soap’s day seems to be off to a particularly shitty start as he wakes up with the mother of all migraines. He’s tempted to power through it, but as soon as he sits up the world spins, and feels so nauseous he considers it a miracle he didn’t immediately puke right there. 

It takes him a while to make his way to the infirmary, but he gets there without incident. One hand rubbing his temple, Soap leans forward to push the infirmary door open. It swings open before he can reach the crash bar and he nearly falls forward, almost colliding into Ghost. 

“Screamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap curses, stepping back to allow Ghost out of the infirmary.

“You alright, Johnny?” 

“‘m fine, Lt,” Soap sighs, giving Ghost a half-smile and lazy thumbs-up. Ghost doesn’t seem to believe him, but then again, Ghost’s face is just like that so Soap’s not sure if his excuse works. “Just wanted to say mornin’ to the Doc.” 

“Right…” Ghost’s eyes travel over Soap, narrowing slightly as he looks back up at Soap’s face. His eyes seem darker, Soap thinks, and when he looks closer he notices the crease of fresh paint on Ghost’s eyelids. They stand for a moment, silently scrutinizing each other before Soap breaks the tension. 

“You been up a while?” Soap asks even though he knows the answer. It’s not uncommon in their line of work to have uneven sleep patterns, but Ghost has one of the most fucked up sleeping schedule Soap has ever seen; Soap isn’t sure he’s ever actually seen Ghost sleep for more than a thirty-minute power nap. 

“For a few hours. The Doc needed my help with something,” Ghost shrugs, “heading down to the practice range now, if you care to join?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Ghost nods, starting down the hallway, “Take your time,” he calls back towards Soap, “no sense in rushing. We both know I'm the better shot anyways.”

Cheeky fucker. 

Soap rolls his eyes, pushing the infirmary door open and stepping inside. He finds you at your desk in the back, sorting through reports, and sipping from a small mug filled with steaming tea. 

“Mornin’, Doc.” You look up in surprise, smiling as Soap pulls up a chair on the other side of your desk.

“Good morning! Something I can help you with?” 

“Got anything for a migraine?” 

“Ouch,” you grimace at him, “lemme see what I got for you.” You down the rest of your tea, setting the mug back on your desk as you begin rifling through the drawers. Soap exhales in relief, scrubbing a hand down his face and pressing into his closed eyes to try and distract from the pain. He opens one eye as you hum, but you’re still looking through your desk, picking through pill bottles. 

Soap takes the time to look over your desk; you have a system of organized chaos composed of stacks of folders, sticky notes, two mugs, an impressive collection of colorful paperclips, a pile of labeled pens, and-

-Wait. 

He looks back, checking to make sure he isn’t seeing things, and, yes, two empty mugs are sitting atop your desk. He knows which one is yours- it’s the same one you always use- the adorably round one painted to look like a sheet ghost (a joke Soap is just now getting), but the solid black one next to yours is unfamiliar. 

“Aha!” You find the bottle you’re looking for and hold it out to Soap. “Take two of these, and grab some food. It should kick in in about thirty minutes to an hour.” Soap reaches to grab the pill bottle, but his attention is pulled towards your hand that appears to be smeared with a black…something? He takes the bottle and examines the faint black fingerprints staining the orange plastic.

“What happened?” he asks, nodding toward your hands.

“Oh!” You examine your hands, rubbing some of the excess stuff off. “One of my pens broke and the ink got everywhere. I thought I got all of it, sorry-” Soap shrugs noncommittally, “-guess we’re both having one of those mornings, huh? Here, let me get you some water to take those with.” You stand, grab both mugs, and disappear to the other side of the infirmary. Soap pops the pill bottle open, eyes roaming over your desk as he fishes out two of the chalky blue pills. 

With the mugs gone, he has a better view of the right side of your desk and, more importantly, what had been sitting behind them: an opened and well-used circular tin of standard-issue black camouflage face paint. He doesn’t know how he didn’t put two-and-two together as soon as he saw your hands, but he’ll blame the migraine in this case. 

The Doc asked me to help with something, my arse.

-

It’s one of the hottest days on record so, of course, it only stands that today would be the day for the A/C to go out. 

You’ve had more people coming in and out of your infirmary in the last six hours than you’ve had in the past six months. Handing out ice packs like candy on Halloween and treating multiple cases of almost-heat stroke, you’ve been nothing short of slammed since you walked into the infirmary this morning. Like everyone else, you’re miserable in the sweltering heat, your jacket hanging wide open and sleeves rolled up above your elbows. It does little to help. 

“Got a delivery for you, Doc,” Soap calls out, waltzing into the infirmary during the first lull you’ve had since morning. He holds out a tall thermos, shaking it so you can hear something sloshing inside. He’s abandoned his ACU jacket, standing there in a black cotton beater, smiling widely, but you can see the beads of sweat rolling down his face and collecting on his collarbone. “Ice water, fresh from the mess.”

“John MacTavish, you are my hero.” You snatch the thermos from his hands, gulping down the chilling water and letting out an obscene groan. 

“Well, it’s nice to finally be appreciated,” Soap winks. You hum, flopping down into an empty chair and leaning back to take another swig from the thermos. 

“Any word on the A/C?” you ask between frantic sips. Once you’ve had your fill, you hold the thermos loosely in your hand as you lean back in your chair.

“Nothing yet. Price said…” Soap trails off as you grab the collar of your own beater and pull at it in a poor attempt to fan yourself. It’s not so much the action that catches his attention, but the small metal chain around your neck with two solid black rings hanging from it. Soap’s never been married before, but he knows a wedding ring when he sees one. Though the fact you’re wearing both rings only leads to more questions. He supposes Ghost has never seemed the type to wear jewelry. Then again, Ghost never seemed the type for marriage, either. 

“Price said…?” 

“Huh?” Soap snaps his eyes back up to your face, praying that you hadn’t just caught him staring near your chest, but you have your head leaned back with your eyes shut tight and the frigid metal of the thermos pressed against your forehead. 

“You said, Price said…and then stopped?”

“Right! Right, yeah, he said it should be fixed by this evening.” You groan in disgust and sluggishly sit up in your chair. You move the thermos from your forehead to your neck, sighing as the chilled metal meets your overheated skin, but all Soap can focus on is the necklace that now hangs outside of your shirt. The rings clink together softly as you move, setting the thermos down and wiping the sweat from your brow. 

“I-”

Soap turns as the doors swing open and another medic rushes in. “Incoming, Doc: two more passed out on the practice range!” 

Soap turns back to you and finds the necklace tucked back into your shirt as you chug the last of your water. You toss him the empty thermos with a thankful smile. 

“No rest for the wicked, eh Soap?” 

-

Missions don’t often go wrong for the 141, but it does happen on occasion. However, they’ve never had a mission end with this many injured before.

You already dismissed Price, his injuries treated with strict orders for three days of bed rest, at least. Gaz had been a bit more extensive and, while you were tempted to keep him overnight, he assured you he was fine enough to sleep in his own cot. You let him go but stressed that if he felt off in any sort of way, to hightail it back to the infirmary. 

Which left Ghost and Soap. Between the two of them, it took you and two other medics a full thirty-six hours to finally get them stable and it was another full day before either of them woke up. You let them rest, waiting until they’ve gotten enough strength to be relatively back to normal before you tell the other medics you’ll take over and they can worry about other patients. 

You wait until the three of you are alone to lay into them, a week’s worth of built-up frustration, stress, and worry spilling out of you. 

“Why is it always you two? I swear, every heli Price gets in is shot down and crashes in some fiery explosion, and still, you two manage to outdo any injury he’s ever gotten!”

Soap, at least, has the sense to look ashamed as you pace around the room, airing every grievance you can think of. Ghost’s eyes follow your every step, but he says nothing, taking every insult you throw. Your rant lasts for nearly an hour before you collapse into a chair and cover your face with your hands, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids. They can hear you taking deep breaths, counting backward from ten under your breath. 

“Sorry for worryin’ ya, Doc,” Soap speaks softly. You sigh, dropping your hands to your lap.

“S’alright, I just…want you to be more careful.” You don’t look at either of them as you sit up, one hand coming up to massage your neck. Guilt crawls up his spine as Soap takes in the deep bags under your eyes and the weighted hunch of your shoulders. “Try and get some rest, both of you. We’ll see how you’re feeling in the morning.” With that, you head back to your desk, busying yourself with catching up on reports. 

He isn’t sure what wakes him, but when Soap opens his eyes, it’s nearly pitch black with the clock reading 3:11 a.m. in bright red. He shifts, trying not to tear his stitches as he gets more comfortable, and turns to his right to check on Ghost. He finds the curtain between their beds drawn just enough so that he can barely see Ghost’s head from where he’s laying and a soft light from one of the bedside lamps glowing behind it.

“Two’s the perfect number, in my opinion.” That’s your voice, murmuring softly from the other side of the curtain. Quietly, and carefully, Soap pushes himself up further in his bed, sitting up so he can angle his head to see around the curtain. When he does, he immediately sinks his teeth into his cheek to keep from making noise.

Ghost is sitting up, propped up by an army of pillows and you’re sitting on a low stool on the right side of his bed with your back to him so you can stretch back and lay your head in his lap. His right hand is draped over you, lightly running his fingers over the set of rings on your necklace as you talk.

“I think three would be too many, plus then we’d have to deal with the whole middle child syndrome thing.” 

…what are you talking about?

“Two’s it for you, huh?” Ghost asks, the tiredness evident in his already gruff voice. 

“Yeah-” you turn your head and smile up at him, “-a boy and a girl. Not sure about names, though. For a girl, I was originally thinking Kate, after Laswell, but the more I think about it, the less sure I am about it. Then I was thinking we could name her after one of the guys, but the only one whose name would even work would be Kyle’s; we could turn that into Kylie. What do you think?” There’s a long silence as Ghost stares down at the rings sitting against your chest. It lasts so long, Soap starts to think Ghost has fallen asleep when the man suddenly gathers the rings in his hand, staring down at the black metal in his palm. 

“Spent a lot of time thinking about this, have you?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name, quiet but firm, and you sigh. 

“It’s just a fantasy,” you whisper, ”like how people talk about what they’ll do when they win the lottery.”

“So, you don’t want-”

“With you, of course, I do.” One of your hands slides gently up his torso, stopping at the extensive bandages wrapped around his chest, while the other absently fiddles with the hair on the left side of your head, skirting over the scar left by the humvee. “But do you honestly think we’ll live long enough for it to happen?”

The room lapses into silence, the only sound a soft echo of the ticking clock beside Soap’s bed. I shouldn’t be listening to this, Soap thinks to himself. He carefully maneuvers himself back down the bed, going even further to lay facing away from the curtain, and you, and Ghost, and any talks of children and impossible futures. He squeezes his eyes shut in a futile attempt at sleep, but his mind is going a million miles a minute and Soap knows he won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night.

Several long minutes pass by in the quiet dark, before Ghost speaks again, “What would you name him?”

“Hm?”

“The boy, what would you name him?”

Your answer is instant.

“Thomas.”

Soulbound Ch 3

1st Person POV:

Bobby is sitting in his make-shift library while Sam sits at a desk in the kitchen. I sit across from him while Dean paces around the room. Dean and I had just finished telling them about what happened while Sam was MIA and Bobby was ever so gently knocked unconscious by an angel.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be." Sam sighed, resting his forehead on his fist.

Dean leans forward slightly, "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel."

"Dean I saw his wings, his friggin' wings! Is that not proof enough?" I throw my hands up in exasperation.

"No! You wanna know why? Because I didn't see 'em! Why the hell are you the only ones that can anyway? I mean, Bobby didn't!" Dean raises his voice a little, gesturing his hand towards Bobby, who's just reading in one of his many books.

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?" Sam's voice is calmer than his brother's, quieter.

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean argues. I rub my forehead in frustration, these Winchesters always being the argumentative type.

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!" My voice starts to raise as well, feeling more and more overstimulated by each passing moment. I roll my eyes as Dean picks up a slice of pizza, sniffs it and tosses it back in the box. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?" Dean waves his hands around, irritated.

Sam smirks softly, "Yeah. You just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." 

"Dean, we have a theory." I argue.

Dean stands up from where he was leaning on the counter, putting his hands on his hips, "Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we --" Sam starts before Dean interrupts.

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!" Dean yells.

Bobby interjects, looking up at us, "You three chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?"

The boys and I walk over to Bobby's desk, "I got stacks of lore -- Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

"What else?" Dean asks, making me smack his shoulder.

"What else, what?" Bobby's eyebrows crinkle at the question.

"What else could do it?"

Bobby folds his hands in front of him on his lap, "Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing. And nothing on why (Y/N) can see his wings while you can't."

"Dean, this is good news." Sam beams.

"How?" Dean furrows his eyebrows and looks at his brother.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?" Sam says, a little too excited about angels being real.

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean's tone still holds disbelief.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby shrugs.

"I don't know, guys." Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam waves his hands around. 

"Proof?" Dean narrows his eyes.

"Yes." I say incredulously. 

Dean raises his voice again, "Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it."

"Why not?" I cross my arms over my chest and shift my weight to my left leg.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?" Dean's voice breaks.

"Dean --," Sam starts but Dean interrupts him.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam smiles a little.

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God." Dean scoffs.

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." I clap my hand on his shoulder. 

A silence passes over us before Dean clears his throat, "Fine. What do we know about angels?"

My mouth falls open slightly as Bobby plops half a dozen heavy books in front of us, "Start reading." The older man says.

Dean's eyes widen and he looks at Sam, "You're gonna get me some pie." Then he grabs the top book from the pile. I sigh and grab the second book, plopping onto the couch and opening it.

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:

Sam pulls up in the Impala as Bobby, Dean and I load the trunk of Bobby's car. Bobby tosses a brown duffel bag in it then walks up to Sam, telling him about his plan for us to go see a friend of his, Olivia Lowry. Dean walks around to the driver's side while I go to the backseat, Bobby going to his own car.

"Scoot over." Dean all but demands.

"Yeah." Sam responds, looking a little concerned. Dean grabs the bag of food from Sam and rifles around inside it. "Dude?" Dean doesn't look up from the bag.

"Yeah?" Sam looks at his brother while I giggle, knowing where this is going.

Dean looks at his brother, wide-eyed, "Where's the pie?" 

~~~~~~~

We all walk into Olivia's house, all armed with guns and Bobby calling out to his friend. "Olivia?" I round the corner with the boys, seeing the woman dead on the floor, bloody and mangled. Bobby says nothing as he walks out of the room and out the front door. 

"Bobby?" I follow him out, wanting to make sure he was okay. I see Bobby on his phone, dialing someone else's number. "Bobby?" He looks up at me, trying not to show just how distraught he is and failing. "Are you okay, Bobby?" He nods silently, bringing his phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he sighs and tries another number. He repeats this process a couple times, growing a little agitated. Bobby puts his down again, putting his other hand on my shoulder and leading me back inside silently.

"Bobby, you all right?" Dean asks him. Sam stands up from his position, previously crouched over Olivia's body.

Bobby keeps his hand on my shoulder, maybe a little worried if I wander too far I'll end up like Olivia, "I called some hunters nearby..."

"Good. We can use their help." Dean grimaces down at the corpse.

"...except they ain't answering their phones either." Bobby finishes.

Sam looks at Bobby sympathetically, "Something's up, huh?"

"You think?" Bobby leads me back outside, I can feel Sam and Dean's eyes boring into our backs.

~~~~~~~

Dean, Sam and I are driving to another hunter's house, a friend of Bobby's named Jed. Dean's been calling him every once and a while on the drive with no answer. "Jed, Dean Winchester again -- friend of Bobby Singer's. Look, we think something's happening. We think it's happening to hunters. Just want to make sure you're okay. Call me back."

Dean hangs up the phone and sets it on the dash as he drives, "Damn it."

I sigh softly, not having much hope that Jed is still alive, or anyone that Bobby has called.

~~~~~~~

"We're at Jed's. It's not pretty. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?" Dean speaks to Bobby through the phone as we walk down the front porch steps. After Bobby's response Dean speaks again, "What the hell is going on here, Bobby? Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?" More silence as Bobby speaks, then Dean says, "We're on our way."

~~~~~~~

Dean is driving, on the phone, trying to get ahold of Bobby. Sam is in the passenger seat with bruises on his face, I try to assess his injuries, distracting myself from the growing anxiety of my surrogate father not answering his God damn phone.

"Damn it, Bobby! Pick up!" Dean yells, looking at his phone, then putting it back up to his ear.

"How you feeling, huh? How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask Sam, holding up three fingers.

"None. I'll be fine, (Y/N)." 

"Henriksen?" Dean asks.

"The FBI dude?" I raise my eyebrow. Dean and I were both asleep in the Impala when Sam was attacked in the bathroom, Dean saving him with salt rounds, while I took the gas pump out of the car, unaware.

"Yep." Sam nods.

"Why? What did he want?" I ask, leaning back against my seat, arms crossed over my chest.

"Revenge, 'cause we got him killed." Sam sighs.

"Sam." Dean says sternly.

"Well, we did, Dean." Sam tilts his head.

"All right. Stop right there. Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get ahold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't think at all." Dean scolds, rather harshly, speeding to Bobby's.

~~~~~~~

Dean, Sam and I enter the house, guns cocked and ready. "Bobby?" I call out, moving throughout the first floor.

"Bobby?" Dean calls. He snaps his fingers, pointing to a fire poker on the floor.

"I'll go. You check outside." I gesture to the stairs, the boys nodding and going outside to the junkyard. I go upstairs, searching for Bobby, calling his name every once in a while. A door slams next to me, making my head whip to my right. Another door shuts at the end of the hall, then the last one opens. 

"Come out, come out, whoever you are." I say as I slowly make my way down the hall. My breath becomes visible.

"(Y/N) Singer. Or should I say (L/N). Still so bossy." I turn around, seeing a woman a little older than me with (h/l) (h/c) hair. "You don't recognize me?" 

My eyebrows crinkle, remembering a picture of my mom and dad Bobby grabbed when he found me. My mother was standing before me, looking as she did when I was a baby, albeit a bit dirty.

My mother takes a step forward, "This is what I looked like when you were tiny. You were only a few months old when that demon killed me and your dad."

"Mom?" I tear up a little, letting my guard down slightly.

She smiles lovingly, "Hi. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, baby."

"You're my mom. Bobby saved a picture of you for me..."

"I'm glad he did, so you could recognize me now. You were too young to remember that demon possessing me. Too young to remember the demon in my body killing your daddy right in front of you. Then Bobby Singer showed up, your little self screaming and crying in your crib. The demon made me stab myself. So when Bobby exorcised the demon, I died too." She takes slow steps towards me.

"I'm sorry, Mom." I try to keep my tears at bay.

"Oh, yeah? So sorry that you're the reason the demon was there?" She tilts her head.

"W-What? What do you-?" My mom cuts me off, yelling.

"That demon was there for you! You're the reason your father and I are dead! It's all your fault! Without you, your dad would still be alive! I would still be alive!"

I sniffle, flinching slightly as a tear falls, "How is it my fault!? I was a baby!"

My mother takes another step forward, hitting me with a right hook, making me fall to the floor. My gun clatters to the floor and she kicks it away. "Mom." I grunt, bringing myself to my elbows before she kicks me in the face. I groan and roll onto my back. "I was a baby..."

My mom scoffs, crouching in front of me, "No...you're apparently more than that. Important enough that demons wanted you. Do you know what you are?"

"No, I don't." My voice comes out strained.

She grabs the collar of my shirt, I glance down, seeing a brand on her hand. "Of course not. Not a clue that the angel on your shoulder is the reason I'm like this..."

"What are you talking about?"

She shoves me back down, sending another harsh kick to my ribs. She stands over me, continuing her monologue, "Your daddy worshipped you. He was gonna be at your beck and call as his little girl. He died protecting you. He died because he was determined to not let that thing have you."

"Mom."

"You were the best thing to happen to us. We were already planning when to give you a little brother or sister. Picturing you running around with your sibling, being a mentor. But when that demon told your dad what you are, speaking with my voice! It's all your fault! I wish I never had you!"

Another tear falls down my cheek, I'm not sure if it's from physical pain or emotional at this point. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She grits her teeth and kicks me again. I grunt and get to my hands and knees, trying to crawl away, I probably have a broken rib...or two. I lay back down on the ground, pulling a pistol from my boot. I aim it at my mother, glaring slightly.

"Oh come on. Are you really that stupid? You can't get rid of me with regular bullets." My mother taunts.

"I'm not shooting you." I grunt, aiming my gun up to a chandelier, shooting the chain. It falls and immediately makes my mom disappear. "Iron. Bitch." I groan in pain, laying there for a moment.

~~~~~~~

Sam, Dean, Bobby and I are in the study, the boys looking away from me as my shirt is sitting on my shoulders so I can wrap an ace bandage on my ribs. Dark bruising covers my ribs and stomach, making me wince.

"So, they're all people we know?" Sam questions, his arms out disbelievingly.

"Not just know. People that died because of us. I saw something on my mom's hand, and I don't think she had any tattoos on her hands, it looked like a brand." I huff, struggling with the bandage. Sam walks over and helps me wrap it around myself, being gentle and not letting his eyes wander.

"I saw a mark, too, on Henriksen." He says.

"What did it look like?" Bobby asks.

Sam finishes wrapping my ribs, standing back up from his kneeling position, "Uh, paper?" Bobby hands him a piece of paper and a pencil, "Thanks." He begins to sketch the symbol on the paper. I pull my shirt back on as Sam shows me the symbol and I nod, "that's it." 

Sam shows it to Bobby, "I may have seen this before." He says as the radio starts up and lights flicker, "We got to move."

Bobby hands Sam a couple books, "Follow me."

"Okay, where are we going?" Sam asks.

Bobby looks at Sam like he grew another head, "Some place safe, you idjit."

Bobby picks up a couple more books and leads us into the basement. We walk to the back of the basement and Bobby opens a big, solid iron door. We walk inside, the boys looking rather impressed, meanwhile I helped Bobby set this up a long time ago. The light turns on, revealing the devil's trap on the floor. It has a bed, weapons rack, desk and a couple other things. Bobby shuts the door and sets the books down.

"Bobby, is this..." Sam starts.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof." He nods, a little bit of boasting in his tone.

"You built a panic room?"

"I had a weekend off." Bobby shrugs.

"Bobby." Dean says.

"What?"

Dean holds up a rifle Bobby had on the gun rack, "You're awesome." Dean smiles and looks at the wall, seeing a poster of a swimsuit model. Obviously not my idea. "Oh."

~~~~~~~

Sam, Dean and I are making salt rounds at the table, while Bobby is writing something down at the desk nearby. A heavy silence hangs in the air as Sam and Dean glance at each other. Dean speaks up first, "See, this is why I can't get behind God."

"What are you talking about?" Sam's eyebrows crinkle.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is." Dean looks back at Bobby then back at Sam and I. "There's no rhyme or reason -- just random, horrible, evil -- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he help?" Sam looks over at Bobby, silently asking for help with this conundrum.

"I ain't touching this one with at 10-foot pole." Bobby chuckles nervously.

"Yeah." Dean scoffs.

Bobby taps his pencil on the book in front of him, "Found it."

"What?" I ask.

"The symbol you saw -- the brand on the ghosts..."

Sam nods, "Yeah?"

"Mark of the Witness." Bobby flips a page in the book, pointing to the symbol.

"Witness? Witness to what?" My eyebrows furrow, a confused look on my face.

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts -- they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them... on purpose." Bobby informs.

"Who?" I ask, irritation lacing my tone at the thought of someone doing that to my poor mother.

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'the rising of the witnesses.' It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait. What -- what book is that prophecy from?" Dean asks, him and Sam standing up and walking over to Bobby. I stay at the table, ignoring the dull throbbing in my ribs.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short -- Revelations. This is a sign, kids."

I rub my forehead, "A sign of what?" 

Bobby leans back in his chair, glancing from me to the boys, "The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?" Dean asks incredulously.

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a -- a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam interrogates.

Dean scoffs, walking back to the table, "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." He claps his hands. "Bunny Ranch." Dean sits back down with me at the table.

"We're not going to Carson City." I cross my legs, resisting the urge to throw one of these salt rounds at him.

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?" Bobby rocks slightly in the desk chair.

"Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?" Dean tilts his head.

Bobby taps his pencil on the page in front of him, "It's a spell to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Should. Great." Sam chuckles.

"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house." Bobby says hopefully.

Dean smiles. "Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?"

"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby says with his signature sass. He stands up, walking to the gun rack, "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."

"The fireplace in the library." Sam states.

"Bingo."

Dean looks between Bobby, Sam and I, "That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Sam sighs and we start preparing to leave the panic room.

"Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?" Bobby asks after we've loaded our guns and got things ready. Bobby pushes open the door, all of us aiming our guns and ready to fire. We round the corner to the stairs, seeing a man with dark, curly hair sitting near the top.

The man looks up, smiling a little, "Hey, Dean. You remember me?"

Dean smiles as well, "Ronald, huh? With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you." 

"I am dead because of you. You were supposed to help me!" Ronald yells, standing up.

Bobby shoots Ronald with a salt round, making him disappear, "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk."

Sam, Bobby, Dean and I get up the stairs and into the living room, I help Sam pour a salt circle while Dean starts the fire in the fireplace. Bobby looks at Sam, "Upstairs, linen closet -- red hex box. It'll be heavy."

"Got it." Sam nods and goes upstairs.

Two little girls appear, both with dark hair and dirty dresses. "Bobby." One of them says. I shoot them bot before they can get another word out.

"Kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Hemlock, opium, wormwood." Bobby tells me.

"Opium?"

"Go!" Bobby yells at me.

I go into the kitchen and rifle through the cutlery drawer, grabbing what Bobby asked for under a false bottom in the drawer, when I hear another gunshot, meaning one of the boys shot another ghost. The doors to the kitchen close suddenly. "(Y/N)?" Bobby yells for me, worry in his tone.

"I'm all right, Bobby! Keep working!" I see Henrikson appear next to me out of the corner of my eye, grabbing my wrist, "Victor."

"(Y/N)." His voice is full of malice, of hatred.

"I know."

He scoffs, "No. You don't."

"It's our fault you're dead. We left you behind. And the minute I heard about that explosion, I thought, 'I should've known.' We should've protected you." I reach behind me to grab my shotgun, but it's flung across the room.

"Unh-unh. Not so fast." I look at my discarded gun then back at Henrikson, "You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a beautiful blast of... white light? If only. 45 minutes."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, "What?"

Henrikson continues, "Over 45 minutes. Lilith said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first. Remember her? Nancy, the virgin. Lilith filleted Nancy's skin off piece by piece. Right in front of us, made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming."

"No." I could feel the guilt racking my brain.

"I was the last."

"Victor..." I start, full of remorse. Henrikson reaches into my chest, gripping my heart, making me grunt and grit my teeth. "Tell me how it's fair. Dean gets saved from Hell -- I die. Why does he deserve another chance, (Y/N)?"

Henrikson sighs, my eyes shutting as my vision starts to fade, before a loud gunshot makes my ears ring. Henrikson's hand disappears from my chest and I crumble to the ground, gasping and coughing.  

"You all right?" Sam kneels next to me as I grasp my chest where Henrikson's hand was.

I wince, "No."

"Let's go." Sam helps me to my feet. He opens the kitchen door, carrying the hexbox while I bring in the bowl of ingredients. We set them on the desk in front of Bobby and he starts putting things together. Ronald appears again as Dean is reloading his gun.

"Ronald. Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals." Dean smiles a little, putting the salt rounds in his gun.

"That's when I was breathing. Now I'm gonna eat you alive." Ronald smiles back. 

Dean chuckles, "Well...come on, I'm not a cheeseburger." Dean cocks his gun and points it at Ronald, but Ronald has vanished. Bobby recites some Latin words and the windows blow open and a wind fills the room. The wind breaks the salt circle, leaving us vulnerable. Meg appears and Sam quickly shoots at her, as Bobby continues to recite the spell. My mother materializes in front of me, Dean shooting her.

Ronald appears and I shoot him. Sam, Dean and I continue to fire as the ghosts show up. My mom appears again and knocks my gun out of my hands. I quickly pick up an iron rod and swing it at her. Meg comes into view and pushes Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam grunts as he tries to push the desk away without success.

Dean shouts, "Sam!"

"Cover Bobby!" His brother responds, his voice strained.

Bobby continues to recite the spell as Sam keeps trying to get out from behind the desk. The two little are sitting on the desk in front of Sam. Meg plunges a hand into Bobby's back, making him drop the bowl with spell ingredients with a grunt. Bobby yells at me in a strained voice as I catch the bowl, "(Y/N)! Fireplace!"

I throw the bowl in the fire, which turns blue. Dean grabs me and pulls me from the fire as a bright light explodes in the room and we shield our eyes. When we look around the ghosts are gone and Bobby falls to the floor.

"Bobby?" I call to him, concerned.

Sam pushes the desk away from him while Dean nd I go over to Bobby. The boys help him up and I stand in front of him, looking at his face. Bobby nods, telling us he is okay.

~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV:

The couch where (Y/N) was supposed to be sleeping was empty. Sam and Dean are asleep on the floor nearby when the sound of wings wake up Dean. He looks up to find Castiel standing in the kitchen. Dean checks on Sam and sees he is asleep. He looks to the couch, seeing it empty and he grows concerned and walks over to join Castiel, who is leaning against the sink.

"Where's (Y/N)?" Dean asks him.

"She is outside, she is safe." He says, monotone. "Excellent job with the witnesses."

"You were hip to all this?" Dean asks incredulously.

Castiel nods, "I was, uh, made aware."

"Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, (Y/N) almost got her heart ripped out of her chest. Not to mention some broken ribs." Dean says angrily.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I plan on talking to her after I'm done with you." He says, the same guilt on his face that he had when he was reminded about blinding Pamela.

Dean furrows his eyebrows. "I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos -- you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

"Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."

"Yeah? Then, why didn't you fight?" Dean interrogates.

Castiel continues in his monotone voice, "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." He puts emphasis on 'your'.

Dean looks at the angel with offense, "Concerns? There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"

"There's a God."

"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"

Castiel sighs, "The Lord works..."

Dean interrupts him, "If you say 'mysterious ways' so help me, I will kick your ass." Castiel puts his hands up momentarily in surrender, "So, Bobby was right... about the witnesses. This is some kind of a... sign of the apocalypse."

The angel nods, "That's why we're here. Big things afoot."

"Do I want to know what kind of things?"

"I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals." Castiel states.

"Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld." Dean says sarcastically.

"Those seals are being broken by Lilith."

Dean nods in understanding, "She did the spell. She rose the witnesses."

"Mm-hmm. And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead." Castiel informs.

"Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."

"Lilith has a certain sense of humor."

"Well, we put those spirits back to rest."

Castiel shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. The seal was broken."

"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean asks.

"You think of the seals as locks on a door."

"Okay. Last one opens and..." Dean trails off.

Castiel stands up straight, "Lucifer walks free."

"Lucifer? But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing."

"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me. Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?" Castiel asks.

Dean makes the realization, "To stop Lucifer."

"That's why we've arrived."

"Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice." Dean gives the angel attitude.

"We tried. And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." Castiel threatens before he vanishes from Dean's sight.

~~~~~~~

1st Person POV:  

A flutter of wings makes me jump as I sit on the hood of one of Bobby's junk cars, my knees curled to my chest. Castiel stands in front of me, a gentle smile on his face, his wings folded behind him.

"Hello (Y/N)," He greets, his voice monotone.

"Hi Castiel," I give him a polite smile back.

"Good job with the witnesses, I'm glad to see you alive." He nods once, taking a step forward. "But I was made aware that you're injured."

"A, uh, a couple broken ribs, I'll be okay." 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you," Castiel apologizes.

"It's alright, you're busy, I get it." I hum and smile softly.

"May I...heal you?" 

I give him a look of surprise and I nod. Castiel brings two fingers to my forehead and I close my eyes, honestly preparing to hurt some. But instead, the dull throbbing of my ribs completely disappears in seconds. "Thank you Castiel."

He smiles again, "Thank you for letting me."

"C-Can I ask you something?" I stutter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his light blue ones.

"Anything." He answers honestly.

"Today, one of the witnesses was my mother. Her and my dad were killed by a demon when I was a baby. My mom said the demon was after me, that's why it was there. Because of the 'angel on my shoulder'. Do you know what she meant?" I ask, using air quotes.

Castiel nods, looking down at the ground, he seemed almost...nervous. "It's because your soul is tied to...my grace. Which could be harnessed in a way that can cause both of us great harm, even death."

"W-What do you mean? 'Tied to your grace'? Is that why I can see your wings?" My thoughts are going a thousand miles a minute.

The angel sighs and nods again, taking another step forward. "Every angel has a soul they are tied to. But not every soul is tied to an angel. I believe the term humans use is 'soulmate.'"

I look at Castiel like he grew a second head, "So what? I'm destined to be with you or something?" 

His eyebrows crinkle and he shakes his head quickly, "No, you still have the free will to choose that. It's more like I am your guardian angel. My father, he wanted to give us something to...live for. A lot of angels never meet the soul they are bound to, some die before they do. But the humans they are bound to, they are almost always reborn, or reincarnated. Unless that soul is sent to Hell."

 "I-I'm sorry, that's a lot to take in." I interrupt before he can continue.

He nods once more, fidgeting with the sleeve of his trenchcoat, "I felt like this isn't something I should keep from you. You deserve to know."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks Castiel." I nod, swallowing thickly.

Castiel's wings spread out a little, "I-I need to get going. Just know that if you pray to me, I will be there as soon as I can. I will always be someone you can count on."

(A/N:) 5.3k words later. This was really long, so I hope you like long chapters. This would have been out sooner but my daughter's first birthday was on March 30th. I've learned these take about 3-4 days to write so I will try to post at least twice a week. Thank you for reading and I hope the exposition at the end made sense. 

— pages of you

neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

includes: neteyam being the biggest tease on pandora, constantly flustered reader, nete and reader being all adorable and cute

a/n: this was requested by my dearest friend on this app ( @netesully ily 🫂) i really hope u enjoy <3

Y/N was always an outlier amongst her fellow Na'vi, intrigued by an aspect of human culture that others did not pay heed to - the art of reading and writing. Unlike humans, the Na'vi did not possess a written language, and their stories and songs were conveyed orally. Since her youth, y/n showed a keen interest in the English language and its written form. Over time, she learned from Jake Sully about human culture, which fascinated her, and that's how she met Neteyam, the boy who stole her heart.

A few months ago, as a token of appreciation for reaching the age of a female warrior, Norm gifted y/n a leather notebook, which she treasured. The book was a repository of her unspoken thoughts, notes on the flora and fauna that surrounded her abode, personal stories that were too valuable to be forgotten, and observations on the people she loved most.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Neteyam and y/n were out exploring the woods, hopping from tree to tree, taking in the beauty and scenery that the great mother herself sculpted. They stumbled upon a patch of brightly colored flowers. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” y/n admired the plethora of blossoms in front of them.

“Yes, but not as beautiful as you.” Neteyam smiled.

She blushed at his cheesiness, it was a quality of Neteyams that she loved, his humorous nature even with the pressure that sits heavily on his shoulders.

Y/n took out her notebook while grabbing the bright purple petal of a flower to place in her book. “Thank you ma Eywa” she whispered, showing appreciation for the nature the goddess created.

“What are you writing in there?” Neteyam asked out of curiosity.

“Just some notes…What we did today. I like to keep track of the things we experience.” y/n smiled, a small heat rising to her cheeks thinking about the information she withheld.

She placed the petal in a page that read:

I can't help but steal glances at Neteyam. His strong, lean frame moves gracefully through the trees, his focus on the world around us. I'm in awe of his connection to nature and the way he effortlessly blends into his surroundings.

But it's not just his physical strength that draws me to him. It's his unwavering love and devotion to his family that sets him apart. As the eldest sibling, he takes his role seriously and I can see how much he cares for his younger brothers and sisters. It's a quality that I find incredibly endearing.

I can't help but smile as I think about him. He's charming in his own way, with a teasing wit that always keeps me on my toes. But it's the moments when he opens up and shows his vulnerable side that I find myself falling deeper for him.

She tucked her notebook away into her satchel as Neteyam was making his way towards a waterfall. “C’mon y/n lets go!”

They run toward the waterfall, laughter filling the air. When they reach it, they stand in awe, taking in the magnificent sight before them.

“It’s just as beautiful as I remember.” y/n said, reminiscing on past adventures.

“It sure is. Even better that we are here together.” Neteyam smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“There’s nowhere else i’d rather be”

“Except maybe in that notebook of yours.” Neteyam teased.

She hit him playfully. “That's for me to know and for you to find out!”

They share a laugh and continue their exploration of the planet, while a curiosity kept fronting itself in Neteyams mind. A blush rising to his cheeks while having an internal conflict. Is she writing about me?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Neteyam and y/n made their way back to the village and rest under a tree. She had her upper half propped up against Neteyams arm, hiding the fact that she was scribbling in her book.

“Neteyam are you okay? You haven’t been talking much.” y/n said with concern, facing herself towards him.

He smirks, “Just thinking about how I’m going to steal that thing from you.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment. “What? Why would you want to do that?” she asked shyly.

“Just curious about what you’re writing in there. I bet it’s all about me isn’t it?” he teased.

“No, it’s not all about you! I write about other things too, like the flowers we saw earlier.” y/n repelled.

“Yeah, I saw you take that petal, did you write a love letter for it?” Neteyam grinned.

y/n playfully shoved him, but she couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. She decided to become bold as well. “You wish! But speaking of love.. I may have something in there written for you.”

His eyes lit up with curiosity, he was finally inching closer to uncovering the secrets written on the pages of her sacred book. “Oh really? You’re gonna have to show me sometime.” he said in a playful manner.

“I don’t think I’ll-“

Before y/n could finish her sentence, Neteyam snatched up her notebook and started sprinting, flipping through the pages as he went. y/n began to chase after him, but her shorter legs didn’t allow her to keep up. “Hey, give that back!” she yelled.

Neteyam laughed, “You wrote about me y/n! And it’s all so sweet”

She had a physical reaction to hearing those words. Oh no.. What did he read? It was all so embarrassing to y/n, her face glowing purple from the blush mixed with her blue skin. “Neteyam give it back! That’s private!”

“Sometimes, when he catches me staring at him, I feel my cheeks flush and I have to look away..” he looked up at her, “Is that so?” Neteyam teased

y/n nodded shyly, feeling more and more embarrassed as the seconds go by.

“I must say, I’m flattered. I had no idea I had this effect on you.” he grinned.

she laughed, “You do Nete, it’s embarrassing really..”

“Don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s cute!” he held up the notebook, “Can I keep this? I could use some more compliments in my life.” He said playfully.

“No way, give it back!” y/n giggled.

“Fine, but you better write something nice about me again soon.” Neteyam joked.

“I’m sure I will.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As the sun set on Pandora, Neteyam and y/n sat side by side on a cliff overlooking the vibrant landscape. They were quiet, lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Neteyam turned to her with a gentle smile. "You know, I never expected to find someone who sees me the way you do," he said softly. "Thank you for writing those things about me."

y/n smiled back, feeling her cheeks flush. "I just write what I see," she said. "And what I see is someone who is kind, brave, and endlessly fascinating."

Neteyam chuckled. "You make me sound like some sort of hero," he said.

"In my eyes, you are," she replied.

They ended the day by sitting in contented silence, watching as the sky turned from orange to pink to purple. As the first stars appeared overhead, Neteyam took her hand in his.

watching topgun maverick ruined my life, before that movie i could've grown up to be the president for all we know, now im just a whore

I’ll Take Care of You

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Summary: You’re driving home from work one night when you accidentally hit someone with your car. When you insist on helping them, you have no idea just who you’re getting involved with. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Talk about minor injuries, but overall fluff!

Word Count: 3461

A/N: Finally wrote one about my favourite spy ;) I’m thinking about writing a part 2 to this, let me know if you guys would be interested in that.

The rain is pouring down from the sky as you’re driving home after a day of work. The world had become dark when your boss had asked you to stay overtime. You love your job as a nurse, but right now you are exhausted and want nothing more than to collapse onto your bed and sleep until morning.

There are almost no cars on the road which is good considering how dark it is and how hard it is to see with the rain. Your windshield wipers are working hard and your headlights light your way but you still can’t see much farther in front of you. You hum along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

You are five minutes from your apartment and can already feel the softness of your sheets when all of a sudden someone appears on the street, running. Your eyes widen as you quickly hit the brakes but you’re too late and you hit them, sending them flying a few feet until they land roughly on the road. Your heart is racing as your mind tries to comprehend what just happened. You hit someone.

You don’t know what happened, you’re usually such a careful driver even in the dark but that person came out of nowhere. They must have just ran out into the street as your car approached. You quickly snap yourself out of your state of shock and hurry to put the car in park and see if the person is okay.

Your mind is still reeling when you open the car door and head towards them as they lay on the road. “Oh my god, I am so so sorry,” you say, at a loss for words. As you approach, you see the person roll over which is a good sign. You then hear them groan and your guilt drowns you.

Keep reading

Oooo could u write about ghost taking his mask of infront of the boys and the reader burst into the room late and is like who tf are you 😭😭😭

A slew of identical masks lay on the table before the circle of men. Ghost reached up and nonchalantly removed his current face covering, exposing his face like it was nothing. Price was the only one who didn't seem surprised to see Ghost's exposed face. "Nice to see you again, Simon."

At his words, you burst in through the door, stumbling over to the table, pulling your utility vest around your body, and tightening it. "Sorry I'm late," you mumbled as you approached. The men gave you a quick nod before turning back to listen to Price. "If you're in, take a mask... If you're not... Don't."

You looked around and spotted a dirty blonde across the table from you, staring you down. Your eyes widened, not recognizing the figure, You leaned into Soap. "Who the fuck is that?" you asked, gesturing your shoulder towards the mysterious man who clearly heard you--you weren't exactly talking quietly.

A big grin formed on Soap's face. He ignored you, reaching for one of the masks and sliding it on over his head. You heard a few men beside you chuckle, clearly thinking whatever you said was funny.

You rolled your eyes before grabbing your own mask. Before you raised it, you froze, watching the man grab one himself and slide it on. Wait. That can't be... "Ghost?" You must have looked awestruck.

Ghost adjusted his mask and looked directly at you, his eyebrows raising. Ironically, with the mask covering most of the man's face, only then could you tell it was Ghost. The blonde hair and attractive face threw you off; the idea that the man across from you could be Ghost didn't even cross your mind. Now with his mask back on, his looming stance and expressive eyes were a dead giveaway.

"Shit, Ghost. I didn't know you were hot." You hadn't even fully realized you said that out loud until Soap and Gaz snickered beside you. You quickly pulled the mask on to hide your embarrassment.

"I tried to tell ya," Ghost grumbled, referring back to the time he insisted he was good-looking to both you and Soap. You were thankful your face was now covered because you were sure you were sweating.

"Let's keep it together," Price said to the table, looking between you and Ghost, a small smirk on his lips. Apparently, everyone found amusement in your humiliation.

As the group moved to head out, you felt Ghost and Soap match your stride. "If it makes you feel any better, I couldn't believe Ghost wasn't ugly as shit under there either," Soap said down to you.

"Thanks, guys," Ghost said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"What can we say? We expected the face to match the personality." You stifled a laugh at Soap's words, Ghost shoving him hard in the shoulder, making him stumble.

Your eyes flicked back to Ghost, still amazing at how ethereal he looked in a much thinner and exposing mask. You could see his blonde eyelashes against the black of his face paint. "Gonna be hard to take orders from you now, Lt. Knowing you look like that n' all," you stuttered, half-jokingly.

You could hear the pained sigh in Ghost's breath, clearly losing his patience as you and Soap giggled like school girls.