war between brothers

Downright Neighborly

Fandom: WWE/TNA

Pairing: Jeff Hardy/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: I return almost wholly whole from the land of concussions and I offer you this…kayfabulous indulgence! Tagging the always-beloved @toxiicpop, the ever-enthusiastic @oraclegazes, the King Captain @hardcorewwetrash  (my thanks for not keelhauling me for the IRS thing, cap!), and new tagees @karaboomhower, @thephenomenonalkingofthebrogues and @superrezzy00 (not sure about these tags, work darn it!). Enjoy!

Keep reading


There’s no meaning.

Whether you’re victorious or your defeated, no matter what you protect or what you lose, there’s no meaning in war. No matter how you tidy it up, it’s a pointless act that ends you up with nothing but corpses and sins. There’s really…nothing worth going that far to protect. (part I)

-Sakata Gintoki

For the lovely anon who requested it. I’m a bit nervous becaude it’s the first request I’ve ever done but I hope that’s what you had in mind.


The great hall of Kattegat was full of people. Guests from a neighboring kingdom had come to talk about better trade conditions. The negotiations had gone well and now there was a big feast to celebrate the new alliance. You were sitting next to Ivar on the long table. His hand rested on yours while you listened to the stories that were told and jokes that were made. As you looked down the table you noticed that Sigurd was staring at you. You raised an eyebrow at him and he looked away.

Later that night you were sitting on one of the benches that were standing along the wall of the hall as Ubbe came over to you and handed you a horn of meat.

“Why are you sitting here all by yourself?”

“I’m watching the people. You can learn a lot about people by just watching them.”

Ubbe laughed a little and shook his head. “You and my little brother really fit together, you know. It’s like you are sharing one mind. It’s kind of scary sometimes.”

“Sounds like you have never witnessed one of our arguments.”

“I have. That’s even scarier.”

Both of you laughed.

“I love him but he can be so stubborn sometimes.” You looked over to Ivar, who was still sitting at the table, now talking to one of your guests.

Ubbe grinned at you. “Even more stubborn than you?”

You laughed again.

You were still talking to Ubbe as Sigurd came over to you and dropped himself on the bench next to you.

“Y/N you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, Sigurd.”

By the way he was talking and moving you could tell that he was quite drunk. As he put his arm around your shoulders you thought about shrugging it off but decided to ignore it.

“I’ve been watching you.” He said.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Why are you with Ivar?” Sigurd wanted to know and put his hand on your thigh, slowly sliding it upwards.

“You should keep your hands to yourself, little brother, if you don’t want Ivar to cut them off.” Ubbe said before you could react.

Sigurd laughed at him but removed his hands from you. You gave Ubbe a thankful smile. If you had fought Sigurd off it had probably made some fuss and you didn’t want Ivar to notice. The war between the two brothers was bad enough as it was.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Floki. “I think your prince is feeling neglected.” He whispered into your ear, then he laughed and left.

Your eyes searched for Ivar and found him looking at you with a gloomy expression on his face. He met your gaze, his blue eyes piercing through you. After a few seconds he looked away. Letting out a sigh, you went over to him and put and an arm around him from behind his chair. As he showed no reaction you sat down on the chair next to him.

“Is everything okay?”

For few seconds he didn’t react at all, then he looked at you, his eyes full of anger. “Did you have fun with Sigurd?”

“He’s just drunk.”

“And maybe you are up for some drunk fun.”

“How can you say that?”

His words and his cold eyes made you feel guilty although you knew there was nothing to be guilty about. It made you angry that he had such an influence on you.

“If you really think so badly of me than maybe you better go and find someone else.” With that you jumped out of your seat and stormed towards the door.

“I might just do that.” Ivar yelled behind you.

As you left the hall the cold air of the night made you shiver. You had no idea where you were going you just had to get away from them all. Angry and sad at the same time you leaned against a shed and fought the tears that were forming in your eyes. Only a few moments later you saw a dark figure approaching you. You didn’t want to talk to anyone and kept quiet, hoping that whoever it was would just pass you. But as he came closer you could see that it was Sigurd.

“You did not answer my question earlier. Why are you with Ivar? Why do you keep up with stuff like this?” He gestured towards the hall.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, then you looked him in the eyes. “I’m with Ivar because I love him.”

“You could have so much better, you know?” He said, coming closer.

You rolled your eyes. “Are you talking about yourself?”

“Why not?” He asked, pressing you to the wall with his body.

“Get off me, Sigurd.” You said in a serious tone but he ignored it and tried to kiss you.

You knew him well enough to know that you weren’t in any actual danger but you were annoyed that he thought he could treat you like this.

“I said get off me.”  Your voice was now dangerously low and you tried to push him away. He looked at you as if he couldn’t understand why you would do this and tried to kiss you again but then started as something hit the wall just inched from his head. You both turned to see an ax sticking there.

“Let go of her or the next one hits you in the head.” The voice was menacing and undoubtably Ivar’s.

Sigurd made a slow step backwards and you slipped past him and ran over to Ivar. You knelt down next to him and he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your ear. “I just can’t stand the thought of another man even looking at you. Can you forgive me for being an idiot?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I love you, Ivar.” You said and grinned at him. “Even though you are sometimes an idiot.”

He smiled at you. “I love you too.” Then his smile turned into a cocky grin. “You are mine. You better never forget that.”

You chuckled. “How could I?”

illusionofwill-hiatus  asked:

Joan of Arc for the drabble thingy.

The first time Michael comes to Jenny Dark, she is squatted down in the long, marshy grass of Cane River Lake, watching a blue-winged teal in the reeds.

Be not afraid, he says very softly, crouching down beside her.

I am the one called Michael, and I have come to counsel you, lead and advise you in what you must do—believe what I say, for it is at Our Lord’s Command.

Jenny shuts her eyes, takes a ragged breath. I’ been waiting, she says. I know. I know.

Jenny is sixteen when she begs her cousin Durand to drive her to the army recruiter’s. They laugh her right out again—war’s no place for a spindly bow-legged thing like her, dirt still under her nails and a cock-eyed, cocky, a strange brightness sitting at her shoulders.

I’m not made for anything else, she tries to tell them. They don’t listen.

Michael is a man with shoulders big as the spreading oak; broad hands with knuckles already brassed. There is blood beneath his nails and holes in uniform, buttons having lost a little of their shine. (It does not suit him and they both know this, but he said I was general in a war between brothers, and this was the only reference she had.) The color of it shifts, when no one’s looking—grey to navy and back again, like a storm passing into night.

He doesn’t laugh much. Jenny takes to bringing bruises home, fat lips and black eyes, just to watch the way his eyes flare up like fireflies. She figures it means he’s pleased with her.

There will be other battlefields, Saint Margaret tells her, rolling out the bread dough in sure, quiet strokes. There is flour on her blessed cheek, dusting the edge of her sleeve; the cross at her throat keeps glinting, catching the afternoon light. There are always dragons. Always.

One sticky afternoon in August, Jenny Dark hacks her dark hair off with scissors, throws a crucifix and some clean underwear, the remains of her babysitting money, in a dufflebag.

Michael sits in the bed of her father’s pickup, his face turned up to the sun. This wasn’t the plan, he informs her coolly.

Okay, Jenny says, throwing her duffle in beside him before climbing into the driver’s seat.

The truck kicks up a cloud of dust as she pulls away, and then there’s just the hum of cicadas, two women standing on the front porch with brightness in their hair, smiling.


Ottoman Woman:  Mihrimah Sultan (1522-1578)

The only daughter of Hürrem Sultan even from an early age was involved in the struggle for power and the throne. In 1539 at age 17 her was married off to a slave of Croatian origin Rustem Pasha, who through marriage with the representative of the Ottoman dynasty and support of Hürrem Sultan later in 1544 became the Grand Vizier. 

Mihrimah Sultan was acknowledged favorite of her father, Sultan Suleiman, as well as highly educated and wise woman. She is involved in charity work, was in communication with the royals of other states, as well as actively took part in the life and intrigues of the harem. 

Already a widow after her mother’s death, she was involved in an internecine war between her brothers, but her beloved brother Bayezid was killed. After accession on the throne of her other brother, she retired from politics, and led a quiet life with her family. 

Mihrimah Sultan died at the age of 56 and was the only child of Sultan Suleiman who has honored to be buried next to her father.

I Win

Pairing: Hercules x Reader
Inspired by a gif set that I saw and now can no longer find lol
Trigger Warnings: None???
NOTE: This is my very first imagine soooo hopefully I’ll get better at writing these :)

You weren’t sure what started this war between brothers. John was standing behind Alexander, roughly massaging his shoulders. As he gave words of encouragement, Alex shooed him away. “You’re not helping,” He muttered. Lafayette was squatting between Alex and Hercules, “You know the rules, mon amis. Elbows on the table.”

“I still don’t understand why you must do this now.” You claimed loudly from your seat.

“How else am I to prove that I am just as strong as Hercules, Y/N?” Alex demanded impatiently. Herc simply rolled his eyes, “You’re not.”

“He’s right.” You said. “You’re not.”

“See, this is why Laf has to mediate. You’re biased because Herc is soon to be your courter.” John smirked, watching your cheeks become a deep shade of red.

You and Herc had been friends since childhood. It began with small Hercules asking you how to put on a dress. That’s when you knew he’d be a tailor one day. Both your parents had caught you and Herc in your room. He was in the middle of trying to get on the second layer of clothing when your fathers doubled over laughing.

Since then, the both of you were told you would marry. The topic never came up much between the two of you, but leave it to your parents and friends to elongate the lifelong awkward tension. You and Herc were very close; you told each other everything. But marriage was something you two silently agreed to never speak about.

“Stop stalling. Let’s get on with it. I have a dress to finish.” Herc chuckled when Alex almost growled at his condescending tone. He glanced at you, giving a small reassuring smile. Then they gripped hands and Lafayette signaled the start. A few seconds in, it was clear that Alex was losing this battle. “Don’t win too quickly, Alexander.” You giggled.

“Shut up.”

Herc gave one look to Alex’s distressed face, then to the clock on the wall behind him. “For the love of God,” He muttered. Suddenly, before you could blink, Alexander’s hand smacked the table, leaving Hercules victorious. You grinned as John and Lafayette cheered. “Looks like we’ve found the one thing Alex can’t do.” You said, standing from your seat.


“Alex, I have work to do.”

“Fine. Tomorrow, on your break.”

“If it’s that important to you, fine.” Herc chuckled.

John, Alex, and Lafayette said their goodbyes soon after, leaving you and him alone. “That was very fun to watch.” You told him with a grin. “Well, I do try to cease every opportunity to make him angry.” He joked. “So, are you ready to try on the dress?”

“I think so.”

He pointed you in the direction of the dressing room where your dress, which he made in preparation for your birthday ball the next day, was waiting. Upon seeing the dress, you were taken aback. It was beautiful. You muttered a small wow before moving to try it on. “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I know your mother said white, but blue really seems to do you justice.”

You smiled to yourself, relishing in the compliment. He thought you looked good in blue. Maybe that’s just him being a tailor, but you couldn’t help but feel a jolt of electricity.

“Hurry up Y/N!”

“Don’t rush me.” You chuckled. “I just want to see. You’ve left me dangling on a string.” He laughed. “And I intend to leave you dangling if you continue to rush me.” You returned, giggling at his excitement. “Sorry, sorry.”

You walked out, picking up the skirts so they didn’t drag across the floor too much. Hercules’s eyes widened as he gazed at you, jaw slacked. “Wow.” He said.

“Close your mouth,” You laughed, “You’ll catch flies.”

“You look stunning.” He grinned. “Beautiful, amazing, gorgeous.” You blushed as he continued to pour out compliments. The fact that he thought you were attractive was news to you. You were completely enamored as you watched his all but gawk over you. Suddenly, you painfully aware of something.

You loved him.

Yes, you, Y/N Y/L/N, were completely, totally, utterly, truly, madly, deeply in love with Hercules Mulligan. You always had been. And you always will be.

You began to look for imperfections, eager to try and change the subject, but found none. “Um, maybe you should check the, uh, measurements. Just to make sure.” You blurted out.

He looked confused, but nodded. “Of course. Wait for me inside, I’ve got to grab a few things.”

You walked into the dressing room and stood on the pedestal. You looked at yourself in the reflection, feeling more than proud of yourself. Hercules thought you were pretty. Gorgeous, even. You twirled around with a smile on your face, the dress flowing naturally around you.

Little did you know, Herc could see you from the counter. He was watching with a tiny smile, ecstatic that you liked the dress. He’d worked on that dress, exclusively, for two weeks. He wasn’t going to make anything for you that wasn’t the best. You only deserved the best. Which was why he never brought up marriage with you.

You deserved more than a tailor’s apprentice. You deserved a lawyer, a politician, a general, a god, if that was possible. And he was anything but.

He shook his head, gathering his present for you before heading into the dressing room. “Hey Y/N?” You hummed your acknowledgment.

“I, uh, got you a present.”

“Hercules, you don’t have to get a present every year. Your friendship is enough.” No it’s not, your brain said. You want more than friendship and you know it. “You know that I don’t care about your no-presents policy.” He chuckled. “Close your eyes.”

“Hercules–” He gave you a warning look, so you sighed and closed your eyes.

You heard his footsteps come closer and closer until he was on the pedestal with you. Your breath hitched as his breath fanned over your neck. Suddenly, you felt something cold lay on your chest. You gasped at its temperature, your eyes flying open. The jewels of the necklace were sparkling as you brought your hand up to touch it. You turned around and looked into his deep brown eyes. The jewels’ paled in comparison. “Oh my god. Herc, it’s beautiful.”

“A beautiful necklace for a beautiful girl.”

You would’ve been a liar if you said this moment didn’t feel perfect. You were staring into each other’s eyes, passionate silence filling the room. He slowly and hesitantly brought his hands to the your face, and cupped your cheeks. “Y/N…” He whispered. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into him. Finally, you—


Something must’ve fallen in the main room and startled Hercules because he fell backwards off the pedestal and straight into a pile of fabric. “Oh my god, Herc!” You rushed over to him, picking fabric off of him. “Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and stood up awkwardly. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” He breathed. He looked bewildered and embarrassed, the blush that covered his cheeks showing a sharp contrast between his skin. “I’ve got to, um. I’ve got some dresses to finish up.” He declared. “I’ll see you tomorrow on my break?”

You felt dejected and hurt as you furrowed your brow, nodding. “Of course.”

The next day, your birthday, seemed to move in a blur. You were counting down the minutes until you could see Herc again. Quite frankly, you thought it was unfair to both you for him to leave things the way he did. You needed to talk to him. You got there a bit early, careful to avoid this talk being made a huge deal by your other three friends, calling out Herc’s name.

“Y/N! Happy birthday!” He grinned, hugging you tightly. He was warm and cuddly and you never wanted to let go. Unfortunately, he pulled away, claiming he had just a bit more work to finish. “Honestly, I’m pushing this deadline. I spent most of my time on your dress and—”

“You did?”

He looked into your eyes, seeming to look for something. “Yes.” He immediately turned back around and began working. You could tell he was stressed. His brow furrowed, his hands clumsily bumping into each other as he sewed, his foot tapping the floor at an alarming rate. That plus the awkward tension was too much. So you came up with an idea.

You plopped your elbow on the table noisily, ignoring the pain it caused. Hercules looked up to you and your open hand, before putting two and two together.

“You can’t be serious.”

“If you can arm wrestle the boys, why can’t you arm wrestle me?” You looked at him expectantly as he sighed and sat across from you. He hesitantly placed his elbow on the table and gripped your hand loosely, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You could tell there was a double meaning to that, but chose to respond to the situation. “I’m not a porcelain doll, Herc. I don’t need to be a revolutionary to beat you.” You gripped his hand tighter, sending a fuzzy feeling through your arm, and he fought back a smile at your statement. “Okay.” He quietly agreed.

You counted off and began immediately straining yourself to compensate for Herc’s strength. He was surprised you’d lasted as long as you did. Sure, he wasn’t using his full strength, but you could barely carry firewood without toppling over.

You looked up at him and let out a breath, feeling yourself starting to lose. He gave a chuckle as he stared at the both of your hands. His eyes were shimmering with amusement although he wouldn’t look at you. You glanced at his lips. They were twitching into a small playful smile.

Oh, what the hell.

You stood up and leaned over the table, softly pressing your lips to his. Herc sat in confusion, his thoughts running a million miles an hour. You immediately thought you’d done something wrong so you started to pull away. As soon as you broke apart, he brought his other hand to the back of your neck and pulled you back where you belonged. Your lips moved in sync with sparks flying in each and every direction. It was better than you had ever imagined.

Not that you imagined it or anything.

You both had to pull away, simply to breath. You curse your need for oxygen as he pressed his forehead against yours. You noticed his grip on your arm wrestling hand had tightened. Smirking, you pecked his lips once more.


You sat back in your chair with a grin on your face. His smile grew as he watched you giggle, staring at his hand that was now on the table.

“I win.”

In His Kiss

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 1,520

Forever Tag List: @thesalsafic, @bummblebeeblue, @sarbear429, @bea789, @xtina2191, @lovethefandomsuniverse, @evyiione, @trustnobodyshootfirst, @motleymoose, @thegoodhunterrr5, @bookaddictedhedgehog, @magicalsis11

Request: Hi um could I get an imagine where the reader is a hunter traveling with the boys and as she gets stuck in the middle of the boys prank war one of them signs her up to sing at a bar but when she actually starts singing a song one of the boys realize that they’re in love with her. (Choose any one of the boys you want) - Anonymous

Author’s Note: I hope you like it! I chose Sam because I love him so much and he deserves everything. Title take from Shoop Shoop Song by Betty Everett (the Cher version). Y/L/N means your last name. – Haley xx

Your name: submit What is this?

“I can’t believe you glued his hand to a beer bottle,” I said, opening up the back door the impala, “now I’m gonna have to top that and I’m all out of ideas.”

Sam grinned, “Super glued, for one. And you’ll think of something.”

Keep reading


Band Of Brothers 15th Anniversary

Episode 3. CARENTAN
[16 Sep. 2001]


Warning: Mention of character death, swearing and extremely cold weather.


“Look Dean this isn’t the damn godfather you don’t need your fuc- MIND YOUR TONGUE YOUNGLING” You were about to swear until Sam interrupted dramatically by putting on a terrible English accent.

“FREAKING…  you don’t need your freaking guns” You pointed to the laid out weapons on the what Dean likes to call the battle table. It what he and Charlie used to help organise her LARPing army and it was easier since there was a large map actually there.

“Look it’s just precaution, in case he turns out to be a shifter, or a witch, or a magician.” Dean smiled innocently while Sam gaped in offense.

‘And what would be so bad if he was a magician, Dean?” you felt a war between both the brothers about to rise so you jumped in between them.

“You think I didn’t do the test? The other day I swapped his bottle with holy water, I passed him the salt which he used and silver knife and forks.” You finished your sentence seeing a smile plastered on Sam’s face.

“Good job” He kissed the top of your head and walked away to order some Chinese food. You saw Dean fold his arms while his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Why did you need salt?” He asked with a dead set face. You slightly panicked knowing he would realise you had dinner with Mike’s parents not too long ago and you lied to your brothers about it.

“Oh ah. At the school cafeteria” You replied with what you seemed was confidence.

“oh yeah? Since when do schools give out silver knife and forks. Either you lied about the test or you’re lying about dinner. Either way I’m disappointed in you kiddo” He walked away while you gasped slightly.

“You’re disappointed? WELL I DIDN’T TELL YOU CAUSE I KNOW YOU’D FREAK OUT! SAM KNEW” You blurted the one thing you were suppose to keep secret and your hands flew to your mouth hoping that somehow the words would travel back in. Dean slowly turned around and you thought his brows would be hunched with his tense jaw accommodating his deadly eyes. Instead you saw he looked hurt.

“Did Sam know about Mike before me?” He accused which was partially right.

“He knew I was seeing a boy, that’s all. Dean I’m 16, i’m not stupid. I know this guy and he checks out, I don’t want to marry him, god no. I just really like him.” You pleaded with your slightly eased brother, he sighed and picked up the guns from the table and shoved it back into his duffel.

“Fine but if either of us say Lemon Cakes then he’s out the door.” You giggled at the memory of your code word. When you were 8, your dad, Sam and Dean would go out for hunts and leave you with uncle Bobby. Hunts usually lasted 4-5 days and they were out often while you trained with Bobby. Whenever they’d come home from exhausting trips you and Dean would make lemon cakes for the entire family and the whole house smelt crisp and content. Sometimes the both of you would overdose on the delicious treats and Bobby would shove carrot’s down your throats.

“Okay agreed, lemon cakes.”You kissed Dean’s cheek, appreciative that he’s giving Mike a chance. You saw Dean about to ask a question but then your phone decided to vibrate in your pocket. You fished it out seeing Mike’s caller ID flashing against the screen.

“Hello?” You squeezed Dean’s shoulder and he rolled his eyes, beginning to walk away to Sam.

“Hey beautiful. I’m where you told me to be but all I see is this massive chimney like thing and a bunch of knocked up cars.” You heard Mike’s confused tone and you giggled at his undeniable charm.

“Stay there, I’ll be right out. Kay bye” You heard him reply with a bye and you slipped on your shoes and coat realising it was cold as fuck outside.

“GUYS HE’S OUTSIDE, I’M BRINGING HIM IN. NO GUNS” You called out before you jogged up the stairs of the bunker. Opening the door you were hit with a storm of snow and you felt your face freeze instantly. You held your arms by your side and walked up the dangerously icy steps of concrete.

 You saw Mike facing his back to you, standing 2 feet away and you whistled him over. He couldn’t hear you from the ear piercing whistles of the wind so you walked over, your boots crunching the fresh snow beneath you. Half way through Mike turned around and saw your cold body.

“Oh my god, Y/N. YOU HAVE BARELY ANYTHING ON” Mike shrugged off his leather jacket and wrapped you in it. He pulled off his beanie and shoved it onto your head and held your hands in his.

“I’m o-okay. L-lets g-g-g-o in?” You stuttered unaware of how effective the cold was. Mike kept your hands still with his while you lead the way. You walked down the stairs and you lost your footing as you fell though Mike caught you almost instantly.

“Be careful baby girl” He whispered and you felt your cheeks warm up on your cold face. You cleared your throat and brought him inside to the bunker and the warmth embraced your shivering body. Mike slammed the door shut and he noticed you were still shaking.

“Shit, you’re still cold” He tried warming you up by stroking your arms with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey I’m all good. See, no stuttering” You chuckled and he sighed thankfully. He closed the gap within the two of you and held your lower back steadily.

“Where were we? Right, hello beautiful” You giggled at his flirtatious behaviour and he smiled widely showing his beautiful pearly white teeth. He dipped his head in an attempt to kiss you as your eyes closed but then you heard two, loud, obnoxious coughs. 

Your head snapped to where your brothers were standing with their hands crossed with their poker faces. You cleared your throat and pulled away from Mike. You took off his jacket and handed it back to Mike who shrugged it back on. You grabbed his hand and led him down the stairs. On the way down you noticed neither Sam or Dean broke eye contact with the both of you which honestly made you shit your pants.

“Uh Sam, Dean. This is Mike, my boyfriend” Mike extended his hand with a smile on his face but neither of your brothers shook it.

“Tell us Mike. What do you see in our sister?” Your eyes rolled and Sam threw you a quick look that said just let Dean speak.

“Where do I begin, sir? Well for one she was the only girl in P.E that didn’t complain when her nails broke” Sam chuckled breaking his protective stance for a split second. Dean glanced at him and Sam coughed, crossing his arms again. Sam noticed how Mike kept his back straight while one hand was holding you. He noticed how he kept glancing back at you with every chance he got and he noticed something in Mike’s eyes. Something familiar, something he missed.

“So you love her?” Sam blurted and you widened your eyes in shock.

“SAM” Both you and Dean asked in surprise while he watched Mike chuckle.

“Yes, sir. I do, with all my heart” You couldn’t believe your ears, you knew you felt something for him but you couldn’t quite explain it. You hated it when you couldn’t talk for ages, you hated not being around him… was that love?.

“I understand where you two are coming from, I have a little sister myself and I barely let her leave the house alone but know I will shoot myself in the knee before I hurt Y/N.” Sam smiled and he extended his hand towards Mike.

“Sam Winchester” Mike shook it thankfully and you appreciated Sam’s first move while Dean was unresponsive.

“Mike Collins, nice to meet you.” He looked towards Dean who turned his back around and walked away.

“You hurt my baby sister you won’t even have knees” Dean walked towards the kitchen while Sam followed, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. Mike saw your tense aura and he kissed your temple.

“Hey don’t worry babe. They’re your brothers. It will take a while” You sighed and leaned in, resting your head on his chest.

“This is going to be a long as night” Mike chuckled and quickly kissed you making sure Sam and Dean weren’t around. You whined at the quick kiss but he kissed your forehead.

“Hey I may love you but your brothers scare the fuck out of me” You giggled.

“You love me” You taunted him and poked his chest while he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Shut up” You took his hand and walked to the kitchen where Sam and Dean were sitting and drinking a beer. You heard Sam’s phone go off telling him that the delivery guy was right outside.

“Y/N, let the delivery guy in? Thanks” Dean said while his focus remained on Mike’s fidgeting body.

“Sam can get it, why c- Go Now” Dean interrupted you.

“Babe take my jacket, it’s freezing” Mike peeled off his jacket and placed it gently on your shoulders. You pecked his cheek and walked away knowing your brothers will interrogate him.

“So Mike, do you want a beer?” Dean pointed his almost empty bottle towards Mike and he rejected respectfully.

“I don’t drink, thanks.” Dean nodded and observed Mike feeling a certain familiarity in him. He saw the almost worn out leather jacket that was a bit too big assuming it was a hand down. He saw the bootleg jeans similar to his. Dean saw a triangle type tattoo pointing out from Mike’s black V-Neck and he became curious.

“You got some ink there?” Mike looked down at his chest and pulled his shirt slightly down showing an anti-possession tattoo.

“It’s a uhm family emblem” Sam shifted in his seat while Dean groaned, realising who Mike was.

“Our baby sister is dating a damn hunter” Dean whispered and Mike stammered, covering his tattoo.

“Wh-what? I don’t hunt sir. I uhm I d- Cut the crap. So here’s the thing, we don’t trust other hunters, got it?” You walked into the bunker with plastics in his hand. You walked into the kitchen and saw Mike’s nervous posture and he was slightly sweating.

“Baby? You okay?” You set the plastics back onto the table and he nodded while his face stayed neutral.

“He was just leaving, right Mike?” Dean stated as he threw his empty bottle in the trash, Sam kept quiet while you were screaming internally.

“Yeah okay” Mike agreed which surprised you, usually he was the chilled, charming daredevil type and he never took orders, he actually reminded you of Dean sort of.

“What? No stay… Dean what happened?” Mike shrugged it off and he gently stroked your hand.

“It’s getting late, I’ll see you, yeh? Love you” He kissed your forehead and took his jacket and beanie from you. The three of you kept quiet and the tension rose while Mike walked across the hall. The pin drop silence was so loud that the closing of the bunker door echoed throughout the halls.

“What. Was. That?” You asked in a monotone voice tired of Dean’s usual overprotective crap.

“He was a hunter, Y/N” Sam whispered like it was some deal breaker. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged at them.

“SO ARE WE?” You stated and Dean slammed his hand on the table.

“We don’t trust other hunters, Y/N. Whoever we let in all end up dead, Bobby, Charlie hell even Kevin” You saw Sam shift in his seat at the mention of Kevins name.

“Dean has a point, Y/N. Just him being around us shortens his lifespan” Sam gulped the remains of his beer and threw it in the bin while Dean continued to stand, facing you.

“Plus he’s exactly like me, and we all know how healthy that is” You felt the anger rise within you and you couldn’t keep the lid on your bottle of emotions anymore.

“You assholes.” You saw Sam and Dean’s shocked and horrified expression.


You felt your face go red while you slowly ran out of breath, you saw Sam and Dean sit their with a stammered and uncomfortable look. They’ve never seen the furious side of you. You always avoided getting into heated conversations as they resulted in you throwing dishes and threatening to take someone’s life.

“And Dean, so what if Mike reminds you of yourself? Wanna know why I love him? Because he’s sweet, loyal, kind, protective, smart, and so much more, just like you” You walked up to Dean and placed your hands on each side of his face.

“Dean Winchester, you are a genius. You and Sam are the two people i look up to and you are the reason why I am alive. So if you see yourself in Mike, then you know I am in excellent hands” Dean lowered his head and sighed against your palms. You moved them away and wiped away a few fallen tears. You began to walk away until you heard a quick mumble coming from behind you.

“What?” You asked.

“I said he can come over for dinner, tomorrow” Dean defeatingly said as he sat down next to Sam with a brand new beer in his hands. You squealed and ran over to kiss him on the cheek and you also kissed Sam.

“THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU” You jumped up and down and ran out the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah whatever” He called out after you yet you ran so quickly he could’ve sworn he saw your dusty outline still there, like a cartoon. Dean took another swig of his beer and looked to Sam who chuckled.

“That was big of you” He mentioned.

“Yeah well, she wouldn’t talk to me if I didn’t” Sam nodded agreeing with your stubborn traits.

“One thing that bothers me” Sam hummed, making Dean continue. “Why did you know about this Mike kid before me?” The younger Winchester smiled and got up from his seat.

“I guess I’m the cooler brother” He stated and walked out the kitchen to catch up on the latest episode of Game of Thrones. Dean sat there feeling somewhat offended, he thought he was the cool brother with the rad car and the give em hell attitude, not Sam.

“PSH YEAH RIGHT, DICK MEASURER” Dean yelled and you groaned in disgust.

“SHUT UP DEAN, THAT WAS ONE TIME” Meanwhile you texted Mike, hoping he still wasn’t too afraid in having dinner with your adorably scary elder brothers.

This is Alana, the main character of HellFire!!

She’s the newest soul to enter Pandemonium as a demon under the army of Lucifer. As she learns the ways of the demons, she realizes she really doesn’t like what’s going on, and being as determined as she is, she’s gonna do something about it.

Without any memory of her life before death, she’s still not afraid to stand up against Lucifer and his nasty ways. She dislikes the fact that she’s being trained to become some henchman to fight some war between brothers with bad blood, she knew she didn’t die for that! She can’t remember what she did during her life for this kind of punishment, but she knows she, nor anyone else down there, deserves this!

She’s stoic, determined, and very bold for being a newbie. She doesn’t take anyone else’s shit and she definitely displays true leadership among the many close friends she makes throughout her journey to end the war between Lucifer and Ulysses.