#(lucid: We greet each other with hugs? OKAY!! :D)

[brokendreamscreation]

@pupmusebox sent:

Curious dragon Diavolo be just keen of this funny yet cute angel who be such a starry ball of feathers and launching into a big bear hug, "Hello hello! Ahh it's nice to see a new angel join in on this wonderful idea of mine, hahaha!" squishing the poor life out Lucid when making the angel squeak before spinning around with him, "Simeon be quite busy with a new charge too, haha. Ah... so sorry ahem, I got carried away I didn't pop your back or anything did I?" settling Lucid down when attempting to fix the smol bean up and offering a headpat when so happy of meeting a new person.

Meeting the head honcho of this extravagant school was an honor and privilege from how Simeon and Lucifer had spoken of the Demon Prince. How funny it was to the young seraph that in his own universe, Hell was ruled over by Lucifer: King of Hell; Prince of Pride. To this day it baffled Lucid as to how the fallen angel could hold both a king and a prince title. He never really was one for politics, not like the High Council had ever included him in it.

The dragon demon was a giant of a man compared to the thin, 5’2” angel. As Diavolo launched his affectionate attack, Lucid made an audible and distinct “squeak!”, wings pinned and legs dangling like a rag doll. Of all the ways he considered he would likely be killed by a demon? Unintentionally crushed to death by bear hug certainly was not on the list.

Diavolo finally set the newest angel visitor down, Lucid’s six wings flopping as he hunched over to catch his breath. Angels don’t necessarily need to breathe where he’s from, but having every air pocket squeezed from you still isn’t pleasant. Lifting his head, Lucid offered a sheepish grin. “N-no no! Nothings popped, I assure you. Truthfully you may have realigned some joints, hehe.”

Standing upright again and folding his wings, Lucid in turn opened his arms and hugged to the Demon Lord, smiling brightly up at Diavolo. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Diavolo, sir! I’m Lucid, Lucid Eveningstar.”

[spencapenca]

The Misfits

Hi! So I am currently writing a highschool AU called The Misfits. It is about the BAU as teenagers. Going through four of the roughest years of their lives. Highschool sucks for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Rolling with the punches of life and high school, these students find solace in each other. Anyways! It continues after the break

CW! Mentions of mental abuse, emotional neglect, physical abuse, suicide, and homophobic slurs.

---

Spencer woke up early… way too early, but he was excited. This was his first day of highschool. Sure, he was at least five years younger than everyone in his grade, but he was ready. His mother on the other hand was not. She hadn’t moved out of her room in three days. He walked into the room and went over to her bed. 

“Good Morning Mama, I start high school today.” He says seeing that she was awake and reading. She looked at him and back at her book without saying a word, he realized that she was too far gone to respond right now. He walked out of the room sadly, going to the kitchen to look for food of some sort. He had become used to doing things by himself, adapting to the new changes. His dad had left six months earlier, which only worsened his mother's downward spiral. Spencer wanted his mom to get him ready for his first day: to cook him breakfast, pack his lunch, maybe even do the cheesy pictures that other moms did. But not Diana. No. Never Diana. Electronics were evil, from the government. His dad had bought him a phone and paid the bill; the only thing he did. Not that he ever answered Spencer's attempts to reach out but it was nice to have though, just in case. 

After standing on plenty of stools, Spencer decided on poptarts. He popped the strawberry pastries in the toaster and shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking as he waited for the poptarts to become warm and toasty. His mind wandered to a time two years ago, his first day of middle school. His mom was still lucid then, she had made him breakfast and read to him. He was only seven then,he was nine now; always was smart for his age. It wasn’t easy to be the youngest in the grade. He got jostled around a lot and took a lot of elbows to the nose, but he was used to it. He was also used to the looks he got when he did the advanced work in class,the looks of doubt. He hated them. His attention popped back to the pastries when they sprung up in the toaster. He jumped before realizing what had just happened. He pulled them out and hissed at the heat, dropping them onto a paper towel. He sat and ate, allowing his mind to wander again. Remembering his mom before she went down hill. Before he was forced into being his own parent, he was already expected to be an adult.He just wanted to be cared for, like most kids did,he was only nine after all. Sure, he was in highschool, but he was still little. He still wanted the crutch of his mom and dad. He wanted to be held. When he went into his mom’s room earlier, he had hoped for her to scoop him up and give him a kiss on the forehead, and read some poetry to him. Or even just talk to him. Just be a human, and she would, in time…

After he finished eating, he had to rush to get dressed. Trying his best not to think about the fact that he had to walk the five and a half miles to school. He was too young to sign himself up for the school bus, obviously too young to drive, and on top of that he didn’t have anyone to carpool with. He rushed into his room and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks, his old striped comfort sweater, and his tennis shoes. The only reason he wore a sweater was because it helped calm him down when he was having sensory issues, though he was always cold. Probably from the lack of vitamins in his diet. He rushed to pack his lunch, not able to find his old lunch bag, so he used a grocery sack. He remembered when his dad would pack his lunch and he lost some composure. Small tears stinging at the corners of his eye, a lump rising in his throat, the building pressure behind his nose. He pushed it all down, while making a sloppy PB and J and throwing a sleeve of Saltines into the sack. He called it a day and got his bag, shoving his lunch in the torn backpack. He walked out of the door and started the trek to school, getting to watch the sunrise. The purples made a small smile peak at his cheeks, the pinks mixing with the oranges made his chest feel warm. His hands flapped happily and he walked with a small bounce in his step. Sweat already starting to bead at his forehead.

  It took him an hour and a half, but he got to the school in enough time to get his schedule. He knew that he was assigned a guide for the first day, just to help him around the school because he was so young. Spencer walked into the main office, and didn’t even clear the top of the counter, his messy curls peeking up from behind it. 

“Um, excuse me. I need to get my schedule.” He said in a squeaky voice. 

“Okay honey, just come right around here.” The nice secretary lady said. Her name plate read Alex Blake. 

The small boy walked around to her side of the counter and smiled at her. “I’m Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D.” He said confidently, trying to show that he belonged here. 

“Oh the youngin. Okay honey, your freshman guide is Aaron Hotchner. He is a Junior. You guys surprisingly have a similar schedule, so stick with him. Let me know if you need anything.” She said, pointing him over to a tall ravenette man. 

He walked over, and in a small voice approached him. “Hi, I’m Spencer, your freshman. I need my schedule, please.” He said with a squeak, his voice rising in pitch because he was nervous. 

“Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II.” He said without looking at the kid. He handed him his schedule and held back a gasp. “How old are you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Spencer wasn’t surprised this was one of the first questions. He had become used to this. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.” He liked how that had worked. So far, this hadn’t sucked. 

…

Jennifer had woken up hours earlier, going on a run before school. She did her best to stay in shape during her off season, still allowing herself to indulge in normal teenage things from time to time. WIthin the three hours she had been awake, the young woman had already worked out and showered, standing in front of her mirror, looking at the shell of the person she once was. Tired, dark bags fell under her eyes, her face puffy from the long nights spent crying herself to sleep. Her sister had died seven months ago. Her sister's room had been left untouched, besides the clothes that she had taken from her closet. She would sleep in her sister's hoodie, only to put it back the next day so it wouldn’t lose her smell. Her death hit her harder than she let on. She had slowly started to become numb inside, forcing a smile only around her parents and friends. Everytime she passed her sister's bedroom a small piece of her heart would break again. 

Today was supposed to be the day her older sister started Senior year. They were going to be in school together for one year. Their year. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. Refusing to let tears fall from her eyes once more. She felt so broken and weak, though everyone told her it was normal. It would probably be easier if everywhere she turned Rosalyn wasn’t staring back at her. Her door being open, a crack, her shampoo bottle, the untouched toothbrush. Everywhere Jennifer looked she saw her dead sister. She refused to shower in the bathtub after finding her sister in it. She tried… once. It ended with her shaking and crying in the tub, her mom having to turn off the water and pick her up. Since then she barely walked into that bathroom. She blinked, being brought back to reality. She puts on a burnt red dress with paisley print on it, paired with simple white shoes. She brushed through her hair, and tied it up, a ribbon lacing around the ponytail. She had opted for a softer sense of style. Mainly to portray the happiness she longed to feel. 

She soon walked downstairs, greeted by her mother. Her father was already at work, having seemed burying himself in it since the death. Her mom was the American Dream of a mother: supportive, stay at home mom that cooks breakfast and dinner. She loved her mom, though she wished she saw her break down just once. Not just act like everything was okay. 

“Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?” Sandy asked cheerfully.

Jennifer looked at her and put on the fake smile that had an all too comfortable home on her face. “Good morning, Mom. I slept well. What’s for breakfast?” She asked in a happy voice.

“French toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, and orange juice.” She answered, setting a plate of food in front of her. Sandy was sweet, really. And Jennifer appreciated her so much for the things she did. 

Jennifer's eyes lit up when the food was sat in front of her. She took a sip of her orange juice and smiled at her mom. “Thank you Mama. It looks really good.” 

Sandy smiled softly, living to see the smile of her daughter. It broke her when Rosalyn killed herself. She never let Jennifer see how it hurt her. She had to be strong for her daughter, keep her afloat too. She would cry when Jennifer wasn’t around. Sitting on the rug of her eldest’s floor, her smell enveloping her as she sobbed into it. Blaming herself for not seeing the warning signs of her daughter's depression. The withdrawal, the sudden “I love you’s’, soon to be followed by long hugs. 

Both ladies had happy, light conversations until it was time to leave for school. The time Jennifer was dreading. Sandy drove her happily, happy to see her daughter entering such a crucial time in her life. Reminding her not to forget that she had volleyball practice after school. After multiple rounds of I love yous and goodbyes, Jennifer walked into the school. She walked to the Secretary and was assigned her Freshman Guide. Emily Prentiss. Jennifer shrugged it off until she saw the other female. The blonde had known that she liked girls, coming to terms with it over the summer, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Emily was gorgeous. She had a totally opposite look of the younger woman. Tall, pale, dark haired beauty. Jennifer felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘Keep it together Jareau!’ She thought to herself.

“So you’re the freshie I have. Good to know. I’m Emily.” She said with a nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” she said with a squeak in her voice that she swallowed. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ. Fits you better. Here’s your schedule. Try to keep up.” She says handing her it and walking off.

JJ. She liked it. She made a mental note of it. From this day forward she was JJ. 

…

Penelope has already been up for hours. Grooming herself to look perfect for the first day. She wanted to make sure everyone knew who Penelope Garcia was,though she wished her last name fit her better. During roll call she always had to explain that she was, in fact, Penelope Garcia. She had buried her feelings with her parents. Six feet under. After her parents died, she moved to Virginia and moved in with her mom’s best friend, of whom she thought of, and called her aunt. This was the first year she wanted to be back in school,the previous year she opted to do homeschooling. She didn’t want to be around anyone, but she decided that this year would be different. She would push herself to be happy. She was going to force herself into her old happy persona. Maybe it would start to feel real to her again. Though the issue wasn’t that she was sad, it was that she wouldn’t allow herself to be. She felt the need to be happy all the time. Show everyone how strong she is. That was except for one person, Derek Morgan. He was the next door neighbor's son. Her aunt had set her up to hang out with him because they had one thing in common: a dead parent. They had hit it off. He would come over and just talk to her some days when she was having a bad day, sitting out in a tree that she thought was secluded, until Derek came up. She was crying and he let her cry on his shoulder. He told her that it would all feel better soon. That it would take time. And from that moment forward, they were best friends. Soon morphing into more. This summer they had made it official. 

Penelope smelled the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes through the air and followed it downstairs. Greeting her aunt with a bubbly smile. “Good morning Alyssa! It smells amazing!” She complemented. They both sat and ate, light conversation flowing between them. She received the text that Derek was ready, finally home and showered from his football practice. 

“Goodbye Alyssa. Derek is gonna drive me to school today. Love you!” She called out from the doorway. Her black skirt ruffling up in the breeze. 

“Have a good day Pen!” She called back, the screen door slamming in response. 

Penelope walked over to Derek’s house, knocking on the door. He greets her with a toothy smile. “Good morning baby girl” He says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he walked out to his car with her. They had been dating for about four months, though they had been pining for at least eight months.

“Good morning handsome. Are you ready for sophomore year?” She asked, smiling at the male. He always held her hand while they drove. He could drive early because he had a birthday that fell early in the year. 

“Of course I am, are you? I know how hard this is. Especially since you’re new.” 

“I’m ready. I’m just gonna take this year by the horns, no one knows me, no one knows what happened. No one knows my past. All they know is I’m the new girl. That's all they need to know.” She says matter of factly. 

Derek looked over at her and smiled. “Okay, but remember. I understand, and I am always here. No matter what, no matter how bad you think it is. I’m in your corner.” 

Penelope blushed softly, “Thank you… I know.” 

After ten minutes they pull up to the school. Penelope took a deep breath and swallowed. Smoothing out her pink top. She looked cute, really. Pink top, black skirt, white shoes. Though, her and Derek looked out of place together. 

She looks over at him and smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “Lets go kick ass.” 

Derek let out a nice hearty laugh and rolled his eyes, “Lets go kick ass.”

They walked into the school, hand in hand, smiles on both of their faces, like nothing could ruin their happy high, 

…

Five a.m always came too early in Derek’s opinion. Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he threw on his practice uniform and grabbed his equipment bag, heading to the field. When he arrived, he ran his five laps around the field and then drank water, heading out to practice. Three long hours later he was dripping sweat, putting away his cleats.

 One of his teammates comes over to him, “Yo Morgan, you coming out to breakfast with the team? We’re going to IHop before school. It’s a tradition.” 

“Nah man, I’m good. Thank you though.” Derek said, not wanting to give an explanation to why. 

“Come one man! It’s tradition! It's your first year on varsity, just give me a good reason why, and I will leave you alone. Just one good, legitimate reason why.” 

“I’m… I’m picking up my girl okay? It’s her first day here, and I promised her I would pick her up and drive her. Chill?” 

“Show me a picture of ‘your girl’ and I’ll leave it be. Lady Man Morgan.” He teased, pushing his shoulder.

Derek pulled out his phone and showed him his lockscreen, him and Penelope together, Her head resting on his chest. There was a significant height difference between the pair. “That's my girl. Her name is Penelope, but I call her Pen.” He boasts, until he hears a scoff and a chuckle. Who did this kid think he was?

“Oh, THAT’S your girl. Dude just skip her. She ain’t cute anyways.” 

Derek felt a small bubble of anger rise in his chest, “Watch what you say, that’s my girl. You right, she ain’t cute, she is beautiful. I can’t see what would make you think otherwise McClellan.” He replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? The  ELEPHANT in the room… Well picture I guess.” He added snarkily. Of course he was talking about her weight, most people did. It always pissed Derek off in public, when people would see them at dinner and stare at her. Making comments about her or what she was eating. 

Derek glared at him, “Oh… so you’re that type of asshole. Okay, well be sure to never invite me anywhere with you again. I would much rather hang out with my girlfriend. She is gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, and stronger than you would ever be.” He spat, turning away and texting her. ‘Good morning, gorgeous. I hope you slept well, I just got out of practice. Will be ready to go at 9:00’ 

She responded almost immediately, like normal. ‘Good morning babe :), I slept amazing, I’ll meet you at your front door.’ 

Derek smiled and put his phone away, driving home. Greeted by his two older sisters in the kitchen, Desiree and Sarah. They basically raised him. His mom was always busy working as a nurse at the hospital, and his dad died in Chicago when he was ten. It was still hard, even after six years. Big dates always reminds him of the lack of a father. The first day was no different. His fifth grade year was his last first day with his dad. His dad would always make chocolate chip waffles and give him a pep talk. Tell him to be good, make sure he was always kind, and then kiss his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He missed it every year. 

Desiree tried to keep the tradition of chocolate chip waffles alive, trying to keep their dad alive with the memories. “Der! I made waffles for you, for after you shower. Please  shower first. You smell like sweaty boy and feet.” She called from the kitchen, not even seeing him yet. 

Derek just laughs in response and goes upstairs getting ready for the day. He looks in the mirror and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Dad, I promise this year I am going to do my best in school, I’m going to stay out of trouble, and I’m always going to be kind. I gotta girlfriend this year. You would love her pops. She’s feisty, she’s so smart and kind. Her folks are gone too. Maybe you know them… maybe not. I don’t know how it works, but I gotta go pops. I love you.” He said into the mirror. Sometimes he would talk to the picture of his dad that he hung on his mirror, looking himself in the eyes. He found it helped on the hard days.

He walked downstairs and smiled when he smelled the waffles, “You guys are the best!” He commented through a mouthful of hot waffle. Light banter flows between the siblings, followed by hugs. Derek leaves when Penelope walks over to his house, hearing her humming something before she even knocks at the door. He smiles widely at her, she looked pretty today. He always had thought she was pretty, even when they had first met. “Good morning, baby girl!” He greeted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could secretly get a smell of her perfume. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla, or cake. 

The two drove to school, Derek holding her hand the entire time. They hadn’t kissed or anything yet. Just hand holding, they had cuddled while watching movies, but they both didn’t want to hurt the other. Derek knew she wasn’t in the best state, so he was always her best friend first, boyfriend came second. 

He looks over at her and smiles when she says, “Let’s kick ass.” “Let’s kick ass.” 

…

Emily woke up bright and early, dealing with her mother. Of course, today of all days she had to be home. She woke up to her light being flipped on, “Emily! Get out of bed, it is six in the morning. You have school today!” Her mother said, her voice raised. 

“Mother. It’s six. School starts at NINE FIFTEEN.” She said, her pillow now over her eyes, “Leave me alone.” She groans

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you have two minutes to get out of bed before I pour water on you. Now. And look presentable.” She commands, the door slamming shut with her exit. 

Emily groaned and got out of her bed, her dark messy curls falling over her eyes. She lets out an annoyed huff and throws her hair into a messy ponytail and walks to the bathroom. She washes her face and then goes into her room, pulling out an outfit. Fishnet tights, ripped jeans, cuffed of course, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt, and a band tee over it. She slipped on her Doc’s and an assortment of chains. Her mom always hated how she looked, how she dressed. It started out as a way to piss her mom off, show her that she isn’t some political figure. She never would be. She sat down at her vanity to do her makeup, she favored dark colors, purples and blacks mainly. She smiled as she winged her eyeliner, it came out perfectly. The raven headed girl decided to go downstairs, drink some coffee. Maybe it would make her feel better. 

When she got downstairs her mother audibly gasped, “Emily! You look like the grim reaper's wife!” 

Emily looked at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet and getting the items to make her coffee, pouring the cream into the bottom of a tumbler filled with ice, pouring the hot coffee over it. “As long as SHE is pretty, I’ll take it,” She mouthed, knowing her mother hated her sexuality. She often told her it was a phase, just a rebellion. 

Elizabeth dropped the spoon she was using to eat her oats, “Emily, you and I both know that you’re just rebelling. Don’t talk that homosexual talk in this household. It’s dirty and imperfect. We’re Prentiss’ we don’t do those things.” 

The teen looked at her and scoffed, her heart dropping. She took it, always did, always would. Though she would never show her mother the pain she caused; she would never let her win. The second that Emily showed any trace of hurt, she would win. Emily translated that to her normal social life. Always making herself look like a hardass, scaring everyone around her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, or else her mother would use it, and treat it like a weakness. Emily was always a pawn in her mother's political games. She knew it. 

Emily had let the stress get to her, taking the coffee upstairs, she dug in her bedside drawer to grab her old friend. She would smoke weed whenever she needed to relax, whenever her life seemed like too much. She was high most of the time. She normally used a dab pen, though sometimes she would use a (joint/blunt). She never used bongs, she held herself higher than that. She put the pen to her mouth and inhaled. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hold…. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated this process a couple of times, feeling the buzz of more vapor in her lungs than air, knowing that's her sign to stop. She could longboard to school now. Forget about the rest of her problems momentarily. Though, it was less than ideal to do in her boots. 

She goes downstairs, and thankfully her mother is gone. She said her goodbyes to her nanny, Amanda, and walked out the front door with her long board in one hand, her backpack on, and her music blaring in her ears. She would listen to a mix of most everything. Sometimes it was screamo, sometimes it was soft pop. Today it was her love playlist. She liked to imagine herself riding alongside a pretty girl, holding her hand as they skated together. She pushed the two miles to school, arriving early anyways. She makes a beeline for the secretary. She had become close to her the previous school year after Blake found her crying in the bathroom because of her mother. The vile names she had spit at her. Ever since then she had become a confidant. 

“Blake! You will not believe what happened. Ugh! It was so fucking, sorry, freaking stupid!” She huffed, pulling a chair besides her desk.

“Well, good morning to you too Emily. What happened?” She asked, holding back a laugh

“Well for starters, my mother was home. That in and of itself is horrible. Then she wakes me up at six this morning, demanding I get up and dressed. So I did. But THAT wasn’t good enough for her either, now was it?” She spat angrily, her hands tapping on her leg that was bouncing up and down, anxiety still very obviously present.

“Oh… wow. She said something about your clothes didn’t she?”

“OF COURSE she did. Because GOD FORBID her precious little perfect angel. She said something about me looking like the Grim Reaper’s wife. So I said as long as SHE is pretty, I don’t care. That thoroughly pissed her off. It’s like she just doesn’t care. I’m not her perfect little girl, and she can’t use me, so she decides that I’m just not good enough. All A’s and on honor roll, not to mention the advanced classes. But THAT'S not good enough.” She ranted, the older woman listening, nodding her head and adding small affirmatives.

“I’m sorry that she is like that. I think that your outfit is quite cool, and she has no reason to get mad at you over that. It is your sexuality, and you can’t control who you like. I wish I could help you, but from what I’ve heard, she isn’t around much, and your nanny is pretty accepting.” 

Emily nodded, taking a ragged breath, “You’re right… I better shut up, there is a freshman” Emily says, seeing a blonde girl walk in. She looked like that Junior that committed suicide. Shit. That was her sister. She was gorgeous, unique looking. She was soft. Her hair framing her angular face perfectly. She was just beautiful. Emily honestly forgot to breathe for a moment, letting her face turn a rosy color before realizing what she was doing. She shook her head and got up, walking behind the desk, over to distract herself. 

It took about ten minutes, but Alex came over to Emily, presenting her with the freshman. Her mind started to race, the pretty girl standing in front of her, leaving her speechless. She soon heard that her name was Jennifer. JJ… It fit. It was soft enough to be spoken with the utmost love, but also to be called carelessly. She made it known too. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ, it fits you better. Here’s your schedule, try to keep up.” She spoke back, trying so hard not to turn into a pile of mush in front of her. She turned on her heels and walked fastly in the other direction, making sure no one could see the radiant smile painted on her face. 

…

Aaron woke up at 5:30, making sure he had enough time to get breakfast ready for his mother and his little brother. He had always made sure to step up, wanting to make the house a more peaceful place. His dad had begun taking his rough days and frustrations out on Aaron, soon becoming more than just yelling. The young boy made sure to keep his brother and mother safe, taking the brunt of the abuse. His father died when he was fourteen, and he had a wave of relief crash over him. He knew that he didn’t have to take the abuse any longer, he didn’t have to wait until his father went to sleep to do things because he was afraid of getting thrown against the wall. He didn’t have to step in between his mother and his father, letting the punches land on his body. The first time his father ever hit Sean was the day Aaron knew he wasn’t able to be a kid. He grew up extremely fast, acting and talking like an adult from the age of eight. He had never learned how to be a kid. He never knew how to play with other kids. And that would come to affect him. He was always seen as the hardass, from the clothes he would wear, to the way he talked. He was always more mature, not laughing at the jokes his classmates would tell, not really having many friends. He always stuck up for everyone though. He would see freshmen being made fun of by upperclassmen and he would make sure he put a stop to it. 

The ravenette would make his family breakfast everyday, today he was making them french toast and eggs. He saw a very sleepy looking Sean bound down the hallway, his hair a sleep ridden mess. “Good morning, breakfast is on the table. I need to go get ready for school. You have forty five minutes to eat and get dressed. I’m walking you to the bus stop this morning.” He said leaving the room, running into his mother in the hallway. “Good morning mama, breakfast is on the table. Have a good day at work.” 

The male got into the shower quickly, rushing to get ready. He pulled on a pair of khakis and a green polo shirt, looking like a dad about to go golfing. He chuckled and rolled his eyes at his reflection, smoothing out his hair. He looked at his phone and realized that he needed to get a move on. He took Sean to the bus stop, walking back for his friend, Dave Rossi to pick him up. Dave and him had been friends since elementary school, seeking solace in each other. He was the stability that Dave needed, and Dave was the rebellion he needed. The man pulled up in his classic convertible. Aaron climbed into the front seat, relaxing into the leather. 

“Hey Dave, thanks for picking me up.” He piped up with a small smile.

“Aaron! It’s no issue. How is Sean and Amanda?” 

“Oh, they’re good. Sean misses you, he keeps asking me when you’re coming over again. Mom misses you too.” 

Dave smiled at him and hummed in response, “I’ll have to come over one night for dinner” He said, pulling into the school. It was a short drive, but it was one that was well worth the gas.

Aaron walked into the school building and met with Blake, getting introduced with his freshman. Spencer Reid. When he saw the boy he was confused, he looked like a child. “Hi, I’m Aaron. What’s your name?”

“Spencer, I’m your freshman. I need my schedule.” He squeaked out. Damn he even sounded young. 

Aaron was puzzled. How old was this kid?  “Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II. How old are you?” He asked, his voice lower in pitch.

Spencer looked up at him. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.”

Aaron looked at him, keeping his face in a calm manner. Nine. He was nine in high school. He knew that he needed to protect him. He was an easy target. He led the boy to their first hour, showing him the ropes. Maybe this year wouldn’t be terrible. 

…

David woke up to the smell of food cooking. This was new. Normally he was home alone. He used to have his nanny Laura around, but  when he started highschool his parents decided he was old enough to stay home without constant supervision. He missed the company though, seeing as how they had grown a nice friendship in the time. He wandered downstairs and saw his parents in the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. They were home… For the first time in at least a month. 

“Ma! Pa!” He greeted from the doorway, soon walking into the kitchen. He felt a warm bubble of happiness in his chest, something he felt less and less. The young man was lonely to say the least. He never had his parents around as a kid. He was always being handed around from nanny to butler, his parents deciding to buy his love instead. It started with nice toys, soon turning to electronics, and then a car. He was spoiled, but not on his own accord. He knew that his parents felt guilty for how they were absent in his life. 

“Bambino!” His father greets, kissing the side of his head obnoxiously like the Italian father he was. Though the warmth of the moment was short lived when his phone rang, calling both him and Mrs. Rossi into work. Dave sighed, knowing that no arguing or sadness could help his case. 

Dave sat in silence, eating the eggs his dad had made for him. He put his dirty dishes in the sink rinsing them off to make his job easier for later. Even though he had people to do these things for him, he insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t that lazy. He knew that he would be on his own, so he figured he needed to know those basic life skills. He did get to learn some things from his friend Aaron. Aaron and him had been friends since fourth grade, despite the social classes. He thought of Aaron like an older brother, though they were the same age. He needed the responsibility and boundaries the other male had, craving that himself. 

Dave walked upstairs, getting ready for the day. A hot shower, followed by jeans, a white tee-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair messily fluffed to the side. He went for a Greaser esc style. He packed his bag, soon going out to his car to pick Aaron up. He felt bad for the man because he didn’t drive yet, he was too busy to deal with minimal things. Or that is what he said. When he got to the males house, he smiled warmly. He was so alone at home, any interaction made him happy. When Aaron told him Sean missed him his heart swelled. Dave was an only child. He always loved children, being around them, playing or talking to them, coloring, really anything they wanted. He thought of the Hotchner family as his family away from home. Amanda being around more than his mother ever was. 

Dave pulled into the school at 7:15, leaving time to screw around before his first hour. His grades never suffered from his antics. He felt himself slipping into the persona of David Rossi, the class clown. He acted different at school, making himself overly obnoxious, trying to be funny because he wanted acceptance. Was that really too much to ask?

[thorne93]

Inexplicable Fate (Part 14)

Prompt: When a blinding pain overtakes you at work, what will be in store for your life when you run into the Winchesters and learn Lucifer’s son is about to be born?

Warning: Language, pain, angst, violence, fighting (verbal and physical)…fear of insanity??

Word Count: 1923

Notes: This is for @roxyspearing gif challenge. (This is the part with the gif!!!) It’s a Jack x Reader fic (so Season 12 and 13 spoilers) Long, slow burn, (a little slow paced at first).

Feedback always appreciated. Feel free to send a message, ask, or leave a comment! :D

Beta’d by the ever fabulous @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno@rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername@kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

IF Tags: @iamafishandigosplish @myfamilysincarolina @ilovemyangelforever @kazuha159 @bisexualdolphinthings @mysteriouslydeliciouswerewolf@justiceiswater @millard-our-savior @polkadottedpillowcase  @hunter-demigod-timelord @octo-cow52 @damnedangel98 @bad-moose

Dean Winchester: @akshi8278 @mogaruke

Sam Winchester: @mogaruke @lenawiinchester

Castiel: @lenawiinchester

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

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A couple weeks went by and things got slightly less tense between Dean and Jack. You and Sam had talked and you agreed to not push Dean to like Jack and to not push Jack to use his powers. Maybe if the stress was off everyone, things would sort themselves out.

You took it upon yourself to start digging into all the angel lore you could. Mainly, to see if you could find out what you were, but also to find out anything for Jack as well. If you weren’t reading, you were practicing your powers, with Jack occasionally coming in to watch you. You ended up joking with him a bit, and he seemed to warm up to you a lot, as he came around you as much as he could. You got him into Star Wars and other nerdy things because you thought it might help if he watched some cinema to understand the human experience.

Sometimes, he asked you to show him how to do something. How to move the pencil, how to teleport, how to focus his inhuman strength. You happily showed him, reveling in the chance to teach him, to be with him, to be near him...

He had confided in you about how he felt nothing when he hurt people. He told you that he said he was sorry, that he felt bad, but he really didn’t. You assured him that it didn’t matter what you were in this world, what mattered is what you do, what choices you make, that defines what kind of person you are. He seemed to like talking with you, because both of you were struggling to find out who you were. Neither of you really knew where you came from.

Sam and you bonded a bit over reading, he helped you find books for what you were looking for and even did some investigating himself, but ultimately finding nothing. But the time together was nice.

Dean and you got back on a better track. He wasn’t avoiding you anymore and his overall behavior was better...ish. You could tell he needed something to lift his spirits, but there was nothing you could offer. How could you? He’d lost most of his family within sixty seconds of each other, and he’d seen it happen.

Sam and Dean took Jack on a hunt. You were against it at first, but Sam pressed that Jack needed the air, and Dean needed to get to know him. The hunt went well, especially since Jack saved Sam and Dean’s life. Jack had told you that Dean even said he did a good job. Which brightened your life, but you knew ultimately, the two of them had a long way to go.

Jack and you were alone while Sam and Dean went on a case. For you, this felt like a test of your will power. You’d never been fully alone with Jack, but now, with no one around, those feelings that lingered beneath the surface were brought to the full frontal of your mind. It also didn’t help the fact that you seemed to be falling in love with him. He was so innocent, and sweet, yet strong and wise. The two of you clicked in every way.

The two of you were sitting in the library as Jack tried to look for a case, and you read lore, but when you looked up, he looked so handsome you could barely stay in your seat.

Lustful images flashed in your head, as if you were watching a rapid slideshow. Moaning, sweating, crying out his name.Things you’d had in your dreams before. Ever since you’d felt this attraction to him, you’d had many dreams of Jack. Every night, in fact. Some sweet, innocent, like picnics in parks, walking side by side in malls, holding hands in the kitchen...Some, not so sweet and innocent. Sometimes they were so powerful, it woke you up, only to find you’d been sweating heavily during the nearly lucid dream.

You didn’t tell anyone. How could you? Dean would be the last person who would want to hear it, Jack wouldn’t even know what to make of it, and Sam would probably have zero advice or ideas. So you kept it to yourself.

But right now, with the way his hair was laying, the way he was frowning at the screen, he looked so...goddamn attractive you could barely contain yourself. Being alone didn’t help. Fantasies of pinning him against the table and claiming him ravaged your brain.

You’d never felt this way about a man, and it was driving you insane. You just wanted to touch him, to touch his lips to yours. Was that too much to ask?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jack asked suddenly.

“Huh? What?”

“I asked if you’re okay…”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Never better,” you lied.

Then you heard footsteps, indicating he approach of Sam and Dean, saving you from your embarrassment.

“How’d it go?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, how was the hunt?” you wondered, looking to them.

“Well…��� Dean started.

“Um,” Sam said.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, panic already starting to take hold in your chest.

But then you heard more steps and your head turned...to see Castiel.

You’d never felt so much joy in your life as you did at that moment.

“Hello, Jack...Y/N,” Castiel greeted.

“Castiel?” Jack breathed in shock.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he answered.

You got up from your chair and rushed over to your angel friend, wrapping him in an embrace. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he assured, hugging you back.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed in a whisper, gripping him tight.

“And I you,” he replied.

You let him go, so that he could see and talk to Jack, but held onto his hand. Jack asked how Cas was alive and Dean echoed it.

“Jack, did you bring Cas back?” Sam wondered.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I wanted him back. I begged for him to come back...but…”

“So did I,” you interjected. “I prayed and begged too…”

Curious expressions took over everyone in the room before Dean said, “Well here he is.”

“Because of us?” you wondered.

“We don’t know. Maybe, but we aren’t sure,” Sam answered.  

“Thank you, both of you,” Castiel said and you smiled at him, sweet and soft.

“I missed you so much,” Jack said as he stepped forward to wrap his arms around the angel. You let Cas’s hand go and stepped away, giving them a proper introduction.

“They tell me you’re doing well,” Castiel said.

“I am. Watch this,” he said as he walked over and made the pencil move, easily, you beaming with pride at his side. He went on to tell you all of a possible zombie case. To which Dean was thrilled for, in Dodge City, Kansas.

The car ride over wasn’t incredibly comfortable as you had three to the backseat, but you were in the car with the people you cared most about in this world, so you didn’t mind one bit. Dean picked the Wild Bill suite, which was not your style of suite, but hey, this was Dean’s little vacation, and he needed something to make him happy.

Dean was ecstatic with all the cowboy memorabilia and you couldn’t help but be delighted for him. He deserved this.

“Y/N, you can have the couch, since I don’t sleep much,” Jack offered.

“Well Castiel doesn’t sleep at all,” you remarked.

Dean and Sam got settled while you, Cas, and Jack reunited. Jack asked Castiel so many questions, and you just sat, listening, happy he was home. They talked for hours, and you knew Jack was hearing things from Castiel he desperately needed.

The four of them went out and worked the case for two days, and you were reading the Bible when the four of them returned, and they didn’t look too good.

“Is everything okay--Jack!” you cried, jumping up at the sight of his bullet holes. He’d been shot. Clearly not hurt, but it always scared you, nonetheless. Your hands flitted to his jacket, barely touching the holes. “What happened?”

“I killed someone,” he nearly growled as he pushed past you and went to sit on the couch. Sam, Dean, and Cas gathered on the opposite side of the room to talk. You joined them.

“What happened?” you said in the lowest voice you could manage.

“We caught the ghoul, we were in a showdown, when Jack thought he could take him down. As it happens, the guard for the bank the ghoul had just robbed ran out, getting caught in the blast zone,” Dean explained.

“There was nothing he could’ve done,” Sam assured. “By the time Jack started the attack, it was too late, the guard was already there.”

Concern painted itself on your face as your heart ached for him.

“I’ll go talk to him,” you said, leaving the three of them there to talk. You went over and sat next to him. “Hey. It was an accident,” you said.

“A fatal one,” he said, not facing you, his voice low. “You weren’t there. You have no idea.”

“No, but I know you’re a good person,” you said kindly. “People have accidents all the time. You wouldn’t believe how many people do something like this,” you tried.

“Really? How many people deal with celestial powers out of their own control?” he demanded, turning to you.

“Jack...That’s not---I was just saying--”

“Well don’t. Just stop. Please. The last person I need trying to tell me it’s not my fault is you,” he said, turning away.

“Oh...Okay...I’ll just...go then,” you said as you got up. Jack needed space and you always respected that, especially at a time like now. So you left the suite and went outside for a minute, soaking up the sunshine and the warmth, trying to ignore how Jack’s response to you made you feel.

“Y/N?” Castiel said behind you.

“Hey, Cas,” you greeted lightly.

“Dean wants us to take Jack back to the bunker.”

“And leave the case?’ you wondered, confused.

“No, he’ll stay here and take care of it.”

“We should,” you agreed. “He doesn’t need to stay here.”

“You should try to talk to him, again. He’ll listen to you,” Castiel informed.

“No, he won’t,” you said, shaking your head. “You heard me in there. I tried, and he just snapped at me. He doesn’t want my help.”

“Y/N, when I look at the two of you, I see a bond. It’s unlike any we have with him. It’s like the bond Sam and Dean share. Immovable. Irrevocable. Jack...He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.”

“And how would you know that, Cas?” you asked, sardonic.

“Because I do the same thing with Sam and Dean,” he answered. “He’s mad at himself, not you.”

“I just want to help him,” you whispered. “That’s all I want.”

-------------------------

On the way back to the bunker, Castiel had tried to help Jack, but he continued to stay mad at himself. Sam and Cas backed off and didn’t bother him when you all returned home. You sat in the library with him, wanting to talk to him, wanting to console him but he said nothing for a long time.

Until he leaned forward and whispered, “I’m sorry for getting upset with you. I just...I am so sick of people getting hurt every time I try to do something good.”

“That’s what an accident is,” you reminded gently.

“Yeah? How many accidents have you had?” he wondered, anger in his hushed voice.

A solemn expression took hold of your features. “Jack...That’s not fair...You didn’t mean to hurt him, you know that.”

“Do you know why I said what I said to you?” he asked suddenly.

“When?” you wondered.

“When I said you were the last person I wanted to tell me that?”

“Oh...yes,” you said, nodding. “No, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Because...I can’t bear the thought of being evil in your eyes,” he said, peering at you, that same feeling that always washed over you, happening all over again. “I didn’t want to disappoint you…”

“That could never happen,” you assured.

“After days like today, I’m not so sure. I was just...I was trying so hard to impress you…”

“Impress me? Jack, why would you want to impress me?”

He pursed his lips and his brow furrowed as he seemed to think of a way to answer you. “Because...I want you to prove to you I can be good. So I can be someone you deserve.”

“Why do you think you need to be someone I deserve?” you wondered, desperate to know if he felt the same about you as you did him.

But the answer would have to wait because Dean opened the door just in, coming in stating he had taken care of everything, to which Sam replied “good”, and that seemed to set Jack off.

“Good?” Jack said, getting up and marching into the war room. “How is that good? I killed someone. What was his name? The guard? Did he have a family?”

You quickly followed behind him, standing to his side. “Jack, don’t,” you pleaded. “Don't do this to yourself.”

“No, I want to know,” he replied earnestly, glancing your direction briefly. “Did he?” he demanded again, his eyes set on Dean.

“Yes, he did,” Dean answered, making your weary eyes shift to him.

Sam spoke up and said, “Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's it's not easy. And we've all done things we regret.”

“Just don’t,” Jack warned, turning away from everyone. “You’re afraid of me,” he said quietly, as he went to face them again.

“No,” you assured as you took a step towards him, your need to comfort him kicking in automatically.

“No, maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just another monster,” he thought out loud, his words piercing straight through you.

“Jack...No. You’re not a monster. Monsters don’t care if they hurt someone,” you said, echoing your words from weeks ago, trying desperately to remind him that he was good.

“She’s right. You're not a monster. I thought you were. I did. But like Sam said, we've all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you're a monster, we're all monsters,” Dean said as he circled the table.

“No, you don't--Every time I try and do something good, people get hurt. I thought I was getting better. I'm not...I don't know what I am, but I know I can't make the world a better place, not like this. I can't even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I'm gonna hurt you. All of you. And I can't. You're all I have,” he said solemnly, his eyes flashing to yours and lingering for a moment, the feeling of paradise inside them and inside you as you looked into them again.

“Jack,” you softly said taking a step towards him, but he took a step back.

“Please...don’t,” he begged, his voice breaking.

“Jack, listen,” Sam tried.

“I have to go,” he said, his head hanging.

“No, Jack,” Castiel intervened.

He held his hand up and your eyes widened. “No!” you pleaded, realizing what he was doing, but his mind was made up.

A powerwave came from his hand, blowing through you, but knocking the other three men in the room far off their feet, hitting the nearest object or wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he told them, heartbreak in his voice and face, and he disappeared.

“Jack!” Cas said when he got back up. The three of them scrambled to their feet and searched for him.

“You won’t find him,” you confirmed quietly. “He isn’t here.”

“Well where the hell did he go?” Dean demanded gruffly.

“I’m not sure. I can’t see where he is. I can only feel him,” you explained. “I need to be with him,” you said quietly, ready to teleport and be by his side no matter the cost.

But Dean asked you a question, interrupting your plans. “Why didn’t you get knocked on your ass when we did?” Dean wondered.

“I don’t know… His powers don’t affect me,” you replied.

Sam frowned at you. “Wait, the day he was born, he knocked all three of us back, that affected you.”

“I wasn’t expecting it. It was like a sucker punch, but with energy,” you explained.

“So if you can feel him, get him back here,” Dean commanded.

“He isn’t a dog, Dean,” you snapped. “I can’t just grab him by the leash and yank him back to the dog house.”

“Are you kidding me? We’ve got a ticking time bomb only you know where, and you want to let him wander?” Dean demanded, getting in your face.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to get him to calm down.

“I didn’t say I wouldn't try try. I’m just telling you if I do find him, I can’t pull him back here even if I wanted to. I can find him, and ask, but that’s all I can do.”

“Well then do that,” he told you.

“Okay. I’ll be back if I have anything.”