#Amber couldn't be with him because she had to be with their parents

[sundrop-writes]

would you be willing to do a follow up to the teen wolf pregnancy hcs? something with the characters interacting with their kid - can be as a baby or older - just them being parents and adjusting to being young parents.

i love your writing 💗💗💗

Fyi, I was not even planning on working on requests tonight, but this caught my attention so much and gave me such a good idea that I had to do it. I decided to do it with the same characters from the first part, but if you want to see this prompt with other characters, then I would do the 'how they react to finding out that you're pregnant' part first with different characters

My requests for Teen Wolf are OPEN, but please read my Rules before sending in a request.

Part One - How would they react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

How would the pack act as parents?

Included: Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale.

Warnings: fem reader - uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is the one who gave birth to the baby, as in the previous part); Stiles's part is extremely self indulgent and something I have been thinking about since I wrote the last part so bear with me; mentions of breastfeeding, giving birth, teething, and other parenting/baby topics; the baby is a different age and has a different name in each section just for funsies; mention of Lydia and reader's baby having red hair - but I did this to drive home the baby's genetic relation to Lydia and I don't think it has to specify the reader's race (someone with darker skin can still have naturally red hair); Lydia calls the reader 'Mama'; mention of the reader being a werewolf in Derek's part because there is a weird continuity in these reactions (and I should write a full fic about Derek and this reader character cause I am slowly becoming addicted to their story, ngl); I believe that's finally it.

Stiles was panicking. He was officially the worst parent ever - everything his dad said was right. He wasn't ready for this, nobody should be a teen parent, he was a failure. God, his whole life was crumbling around him...

You were out of town because your sister was getting married. You had been incredibly hesitant to leave the baby - sweet, adorable, nine-month-old Lila Stilinski - but Stiles had insisted that you go on a weekend getaway to your sister's bachelorette party. You deserved it. You had spent nine whole months growing his baby and then you had given birth to her (a bloody, messy affair that made him faint - to nobody's surprise), and you had spent the last nine months nursing her and getting your degree from home after you had fought through your pregnancy taking double courses to graduate high school early. You were a gem, a beautiful, shining gem of a woman and a mother, and somehow - while you were off getting your much needed rest and having fun - Stiles had lost your baby.

His baby - his baby that he loved very, very much.

He had woken up that morning, late, having forgotten to set the alarm, and rushed around the apartment like a chicken with his head cut off rushing to get Lila ready for day care and himself ready for school, and he dropped her off as usual, with a smile and kiss on her big beautiful forehead. And when he went to pick her up that afternoon - she was gone. The day care worker couldn't give him any other news than the fact that she had been 'signed out already', and it left Stiles panicking, thinking about that cult that sacrifices babies every single day.

In his rush that morning, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so he couldn't get his dad on the line - and he was currently running at top, lung-crushing speed toward the police station, running past the deputy on duty at the front desk, who simply shrugged and buzzed him in when she saw his bright red face and his clear desperation.

"Dad, D-dad, you have to-!" He was going to ask his father to put out an amber alert, to call every single one of his deputies back to get them looking, but when his father turned around - that sweet girl with the bright purple bow in her hair was in his arms.

Then, Stiles shifted on a dime from panic to anger.

"Dad, what the hell?" He barked out, struggling to sound as pissed off as he was while still trying to catch his breath.

"What?" The Sheriff shrugged, kissing his granddaughter on the forehead before cooing brightly at her, smiling at her with all the brightness in the world, paying Stiles absolutely no mind.

"You took her out of day care without telling me first?" Stiles gaped, absolutely angered that his father had let him believe for even a moment that his girl was missing.

He knew it was a cruel irony - a blunt kind of karma. All the times he had come home late, all the nights he had snuck out believing that his dad was simply being too hard on him for giving him such an early curfew. Now, in a single crashing moment, he instantly understood why his father had worried so much - why he was so angry every single time Stiles was out of his sight, especially when there was danger around.

"Your phone was off." Noah shrugged, rocking Lila back and forth in his arms, giving her another kiss on the forehead as he began to hum the tune of a lullaby under his breath. "I got bored on my lunch break, and I wanted to see my baby, so what?"

It was the usual for him - any time he was within ten feet of her, she didn't have a moment in your arms or Stiles's. On the day she had been born, he had brought a giant gift basket to the hospital, grumbling under his breath about how he still thought it was 'irresponsible' of Stiles, but demanding to see 'his baby'.

He had burst into tears upon seeing Lila for the first time, and was deeply aggressive about who was allowed to visit and for how long. When she came home, he stood watch over her crib with his gun in hand for multiple days before he finally gave up and went to sleep (and according to you, he admitted quietly that he had done the same thing for Stiles when he first came home from the hospital).

"My phone died." Stiles stressed. "You could have left a note for me at the school or something. You gave me a freakin' heart attack."

"Be more responsible and charge it next time." The Sheriff grinned at him.

"Just - don't kidnap my daughter again!" Stiles snapped. "She is my daughter-" He argued, taking a possessive, protective stance.

"Yeah, well I made you, so I have certain rights when it comes to this little sweet girl." His father said, trailing off into a cooing baby voice as he began fawning over Lila once again. Stiles rolled his eyes. "Besides, ever since the three of you moved out, I hardly get to see my babygirl anymore."

Stiles felt a twinge of guilt at this, but wanted to argue. The three of you needed your own space, and you had moved into an apartment that was less than twenty minutes away from his father's house. He still saw Lila at least once every single day of the week, unless he was busy working.

"Dad-"

"Besides, it's not kidnapping if I'm the Sheriff."

"It is so kidnapping! It's kidnapping if I report you."

"Is it still considered an abortion if I terminate you now?" His father glared at him.

Stiles let out a huff.

Isaac was tired. He knew that being a parent was going to be tiring, but in the six months since baby Leon had been born, this was his first full night alone with his son. His son who was teething, crying incredibly loudly, and in pain because of his little teeth coming in. He wasn't nearly as upset about the fact that he hadn't slept as he was about the fact that his son was in pain and he could do little about it.

He had considered calling you a few times throughout the night when Leon was letting out particularly harrowing cries and Isaac was on the verge of tears himself (especially considering with his heightened werewolf senses, the pain of those cries seemed to pierce through him even more) - but he had agreed to take care of Leon by himself to get him out of the house that you and your mother shared because you had been studying for the SATs and you needed sleep the night before your big exam. So as much as it pained him, he endured alone and ended up crying with his son while he sucked on a frozen teething toy with tears still running down his chubby cheeks.

The sun had come up a while ago and Leon had just fallen asleep, his portable crib set up in the middle of the loft so that Isaac could watch over him - his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot red as he stood at the counter, chugging down a cup of black coffee, trying his hardest to stay away until after your exam was over so that you could take Leon and he could have a nap.

He was not at all pleased when the door creaked open, seeming like the loudest thing ever - alerting him to the presence of Boyd entering the apartment.

"Hey, man-" Boyd greeted him in a usual bright tone, and Isaac cut him off with an abrupt hush. He put a finger to his lips and then motioned to the crib, and Boyd peeked over, nodding once he saw the baby. "You're on Daddy duty again?"

"It's not like it's a hobby or something," Isaac told him tiredly in a hushed tone. "I am a father now." Even with the tense whispering and the tired droop of his shoulders, there was a certain sense of pride in the way he said this.

"Well you-"

Isaac shushed him again, as Boyd speaking in his usual tone was far too loud for Isaac's liking.

"You know, he's gonna have to get adjusted to noise sooner or later." Derek piped up from his place on the couch, where Isaac had convinced him to sit and read a book until Leon had settled to sleep.

"Shh!" Isaac tried to hush Derek into silence, but he glared at Isaac and kept talking at his usual volume.

"Babies born into pack families are brought up co-sleeping, so they sleep through the noise of a dozen family members-"

Isaac crossed the room and put a hand against Derek's mouth, forcing him quiet this time.

"I don't care." Isaac insisted. "Nobody is going to wake up my son now that he is asleep."

"Stop touching me." Derek said, muffled against Isaac's hand.

Isaac backed off, and before Derek could speak up again, Leon woke with a high pitched wail.

"You guys have fun with that." Boyd said, taking this as his queue to leave.

Lydia was overjoyed. Telling her parents about everything had been nothing short of a confusing nightmare, and after a lot of convincing from Melissa and Noah and a lot of questions without a lot of answers, they had both still been sceptical right up until you had given birth.

The moment they had laid eyes on a sweet newborn baby girl with bright red hair - they were convinced that against all odds, you and Lydia had made a baby together.

That was an entire year ago - and now, Lydia was having the utter pleasure of planning her beautiful Luna Harmony Martin's first birthday party. She was so perfectly in her element - picking out decorations, designing an utterly epic and fabulous birthday cake (including a separate, smaller smash cake that only her daughter would get to touch, because it was only the best for Luna), planning entertainment - a professional princess performer and some magicians (no clowns - Luna didn't need those kind of memories implanted in her psyche this early on), and the best part: picking out cute little dresses for the birthday girl to wear.

Much like her mother, she was a fashion icon, and she would likely need multiple outfit changes for her party - not just with the fact that she would get covered in cake or her own spit-up, but because a proper birthday girl should always be photographed in more than one ensemble.

You weren't surprised when Lydia came home with two large armfuls of shopping bags. You wanted to protest, to tell her that a one-year-old didn't need that many clothes that she wasn't even going to wear, but you knew that Lydia's parents weren't going to take away her credit card anytime soon (and when it came to spoiling the baby, they were even worse) and you also knew that this was one of her ways of showing your daughter love.

So when she came to sit on the cushy foam playmat with you and Luna, dropping the many shopping bags on the cough behind the two of you, you simply let it happen.

"Hello my sweet girl," Lydia said, greeting your daughter in a sweet voice as she kissed her chubby cheeks and pulled her into her lap. "And hello to you, Mama."

Mama. The nickname still made your stomach churn with heat - something that Lydia had gotten into calling you more lately after some rant about how Luna's 'speech centre' was 'rapidly developing' and she wanted to influence what the baby would call you.

You couldn't help but to grin as you kissed her too.

"I see you've been shopping." You said, motioning toward the bags.

"A bit." Lydia shrugged. "After I booked the carousel-"

"A carousel?" You questioned. "Lydia, she's a year old. She can't even ride carnival rides - she's not even going to remember any of this."

"It's for the photos. Obviously." Lydia sighed in return, rolling her eyes at you. "The theme of the party is Cotton Candy Princess, what kind of idiot would I be if I didn't include at least one classic carnival ride in my photos?"

"At this rate, she's gonna want a golden pony by the time she's five."

"Then she'll get one." Lydia cooed at Luna, kissing her cheeks again, smearing pink lipstick on her.

You couldn't help but to smile - you knew that this was Lydia's way of showing your daughter that to her, she was the most important little girl in the world.

Derek was annoyed - not with his son, with you.

Since the moment he had found out that you were pregnant, Derek loved his son more than anything in the world. He loved you just as much, he had right from the moment he had slashed Peter's throat and then turned you where you were dying, bleeding out, and used his newfound Alpha powers to turn you in order to save your life. Because that was the moment he knew he would risk anything and everything in order to keep you alive.

He loved you very much, but he was still annoyed with you.

You were determined not to let Derek sleep with his son - a tradition as old as pack life itself, now being marred by you shoving articles in Derek's face about how co-sleeping was 'dangerous' and how the baby should have his own crib. A baby of only three months old should not be damned to isolation. It made Derek's heart ache just thinking about it. He was used to the comfort of your body - he was used to the sync of your heartbeat, the sound of his voice and Derek's constantly nearby. He shouldn't be off in the corner by himself. You had made Derek feel like some criminal, sneaking out of bed at one in the morning to pluck his son out of that damned crib in order to spend some time with him.

And now, Alexander was sleeping peacefully on his bare chest, skin to skin as nature intended, feeling the peace of his father's heartbeat as Derek dozed into a gentle sleep himself on the sofa himself. He was - until he heard the distinct squeak of the bed springs on your side, a distinct huff from you as you got out of bed.

"Derek," You sighed when you saw what he had done, crossing your arms over your chest - it was an entirely appealing sight; the incredibly small baby perched in the middle of his bare chest, so tiny against Derek's large, muscled frame. But it did make you worry - Alexander wasn't secured in any way - he could fall, he could roll off. Even though Derek was an incredibly capable, loving parent, even in the haze of sleep, he could roll over and crush the baby.

It scared you.

"What - are you gonna take him from me?" He glared at you, deep betrayal in his voice. It was clear that the only thing keeping him from raising his voice further was the restraint not to yell so close to the baby's ear. "Do you honestly think that I would hurt my son?"

You held back tears, hating how much the insinuation clearly pained Derek.

"Never." You told him, your own tears choking your throat. "Derek, I know that you would never hurt him intentionally. But-"

"Exactly." He replied, cutting you off. "And there is nothing that will harm him. I am not going to let it happen."

You sighed, putting a hand to your forehead in frustration.

Derek shook his head, sitting up, putting a hand against Alexander's diapered bum to support him - able to hold nearly the entirety of his tiny body with one hand.

"Didn't you notice that all of those articles you read are written by humans?" He pointed out. "This is something that my family has done for generations. Our senses are honed for stuff like this. The moment that a baby is born, we sleep differently. Haven't you noticed?"

You had noticed - you felt like you had been sleeping with only half your brain, like a shark. You thought it was something your mother had warned you about, how you would never get a full night's rest again after having a baby. But it felt different. You did wake up rested, but you didn't dream anymore. You felt conscious nearly the entire time you were asleep - hyper aware of everything, your body responsive to every single coo, every little noise the baby made. You became hyper aware of the rhythm of his heartbeat while you slept, often using it as a white noise machine while you laid there.

"Yeah." You admitted - Derek gave you a subtle smug grin, and nodded.

"I'm not going to hurt him, not even by accident - because I can't." Derek told you firmly. "I will wake up the minute he cries, and I won't shift in my sleep. And this is healthy for us. Our heartbeats will sync up and this will help him sleep better. Please, just trust me on this."

Derek rarely pleaded with you about things, rather than outright telling you - so you knew that this mattered to him greatly.

"Yes. I trust you." You told him. "Come back to bed?" You posed. "All of us in the same bed."

He smiled, and leaned in to kiss you before he got up off the couch, bringing your son with him.

(When you woke up the next morning, the crib was smashed to pieces, and Derek - who was in the kitchen making breakfast with Alexander still pressed to one shoulder - claimed that he had no idea how it happened.)

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[lara635kookie]

Who She Takes After

Rumi x Jinu Daughter Short Fic - Kpop Demon Hunters

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Somi was never one to back down from a fight. Her parents didn't raise her to be a coward.

So when she saw some of the older children bullying a kid from her class, she couldn't help but step in and defend him.

- Stop! Leave him alone. Right. Now. - She says angrily.

The tallest guy looks at Somi with mockery in his eyes.

- And what if I don't want to?

- Don't make such a dumb decision.

- Huh, you think that just because your parents are famous you're better than everyone else?

The whole entire country of Korea knew her parents. How could they not? They were part of the biggest kpop girl group and boy group in the whole entire world. Rumi was a part of the HUNTRIX, and after the group disbanded she became a very successful soloist and later owner of her own label, where Mira works as choreographer and Zoey as a producer and songwriter.

Jinu was a former member of the Saja Boys. After they disbanded, he became a full time actor and never stopped ever since, still being the best paid actor in South Korea.

They dated in secret for years and made it public once they were sure most of their fans would be supportive of it. Then Jinu proposed, Rumi said yes, they got married and now here we are.

- No, I don't think I'm better than anyone else. But I AM sure that I'm better than you.

He had enough of that little girl. She was so short. What could she possibly do against five guys?

They release their old victim and lock eyes with their new-found target, slowly approaching her.

The moment the five older boys began circling her like wolves, Somi tightened her stance. She didn’t flinch. Her fists curled instinctively at her sides, feet firmly planted on the hallway where the students watching didn't even blink, waiting for the next move like they were watching a movie or a boxing match.

- Oh yeah? So what are you going to do now, princess? Sing us to death? - The one that looked the oldest scoffed.

That was the last straw.

Somi moved first.

Before the guy could blink, she slammed her palm into his nose with a loud *crack*. He stumbled back, howling in pain as blood gushed down his face and he collides against the wall, falling immediately. The others froze, stunned — but only for a fraction of seconds.

The second boy lunged at her, but she ducked low and swept his legs out from under him just like her parents taught her. Years of taekwondo and hapkido lessons with them surely paid off. He hit the ground with a loud groan.

Number three came at her swinging wildly, clearly more muscle than brain. Somi sidestepped effortlessly and delivered a hard elbow to his ribs, followed by a jab to the throat. He dropped to his knees, coughing violently.

The fourth hesitated.

Big mistake.

Somi gave him a warning look that said “Walk away.”

But instead, he charged.

She met him halfway, spinning into a flying back kick that nailed right in the middle of his stomach. He doubled over with a huge scream, dropping like a sack of rice.

The fifth and final boy froze in place. His friends were writhing and agonizing on the ground around him. He looked at her with pure and sheer fear.

She tilted her head, her golden amber eyes burning like she wanted for more, and her long black hair still in a perfectly aligned braid, like she barely made effort at all.

- Still think I can’t take you?

He bolted.

Somi straightened her back, breathing hard, heart pounding — but her face remained stoic and unbothered. She wasn't even sweating. The little crowd of students that was formed started to clap, and the boy who had been bullied earlier stared at her with wide eyes, wiping away tears.

- Are you okay? she asked him gently, brushing dust off her clothes.

He nodded slowly, still in awe.

- Y-You’re like… a superhero. - He compliments her.

Somi gave him a tiny smile, but before she could say anything else, the school's headmaster appeared.

And Somi knew she was going to be in trouble.

●

The four guys Somi knocked out were taken to the infirmary. Right now, Somi is at the outside of the headmaster's office, listening through the door as her parents have a serious conversation with the headmaster.

- I called both of you here today because your daughter fought with four students.

- What? Why? What happened? - Rumi asked.

- They were bullying one of her classmates, and she intervened.

- That's my girl. Bet she won. - Jinu commented, and Somi giggled discreetly.

- Jinu! - Rumi gives him a little punch on his shoulder. - She did win though, right?

The headmaster looks at them both, baffled.

Rumi clears her throat and say.

- Mr. Hong, we assure you our daughter wouldn't pick up a fight for no reason. - Rumi explains.

- I am aware. She explained to me the situation. Somi is very well liked among her peers and she was just trying to defend one of her classmates that was being bullied. And they will be punished accordingly as bullying is intolerable at our esteemed institution. However, so is violence.

- I'm sure she was just standing up for herself and the integrity of her classmate. I don't see a problem with that.

And that was Jinu. He supported his daughter's rights and wrongs.

- I understand. However, we do not believe violence is the best solution. We advised your daughter to help by immediately reporting it to the school's officials. I can see that Somi has a great sense of justice...

- She takes after her. - Jinu says and points at Rumi, who smiles and rolls her eyes playfully.

- But still I need her to understand that there are some matters she can't take into her own hands. - The headmaster completes.

The conversation continues until the headmaster informs Rumi and Jinu that Somi will be suspend for a day and return to school the day after tomorrow.

The door unexpectedly opens and reveals Somi spying.

- Now that, right here, she takes after you. - Rumi points out while looking at Jinu with a knowing gaze, while Jinu just nods in agreement with an amused grin.

- Hi mom. Hi dad. - Somi says, in the most innocent way she could.

- We'll talk when we get home. - Rumi says and if Somi wasn't half demon, she'd be sure her soul would have left her body at that exact moment.

But she didn't need to wait until they got home. As soon as they got in the car and Jinu started driving, Rumi asked:

- Really Somi? Why did you do that? You could have gotten hurt! Fighting is dangerous!

- Says the Demon Hunter.

- Former Demon Hunter. - Rumi emphasizes. - You know better than anyone that we retired. For your safety.

- I'm sorry, but I just couldn't stay still and do nothing. I know what you guys are thinking, and no, I did not use my powers, and no, nobody saw my demon marks. That's why I use jackets for!

- Are you sure? - Jinu asks.

- Yes. I was careful, okay? If I didn't teach those guys a lesson, they would never stop.

Rumi sighs.

- We know you were only doing what you thought was right, but please, try to avoid it next time, okay? Only use self-defense techniques when there's truly no other way out. In that case, you could have just took your classmate out of there and go with him to the headmaster's office to tell him the situation.

- I... - Somi pauses, trying to come up with something, but she got nothing. - Didn't think about it. - She admits defeat.

- Exactly. We are proud that you're not afraid to stand up for someone who needs help, but please, promise us you'll be less impulsive next time, okay?

- Okay. I promise, mom.

- Good. Thank you.

The car stays silent for a moment until Jinu says:

- Now tell us how the fight went.

- Jinu!!! - Rumi calls him out.

- What? Come on, I know you're curious about that, too.

Rumi shakes her head but doesn't deny the allegations. Somi giggles and describes with details how it all went down to her parents.

- Flying kick right to the belly, great. Simple but very effective. One of my favorites. I used that move on your dad a couple of times. - Rumi says, teasing Jinu.

- It was more than just "a couple of times" actually. - Jinu answers. - Your moves were pretty predictable back there. Even more than they are now. - He smirks.

- Oh yeah? My moves were predictable, yet somehow, a certain demon fell for them every single time.

- On purpose. Just to make you feel better.

- Okay, honey, keep telling yourself that.

The family laughs. If there's something that the years never changed about Rumi and Jinu's relationship, was the banter.

Rumi, Jinu and Somi arrive home and see their tiger on the couch, with their crow on his typical spot, the tiger's head.

- Hi boys.

The tiger and the crow look at her, confused by seeing her home from school earlier.

- I've had a fight at school today.

She sits on the couch next to them and begins to tell the story, while they listen attentively.

Rumi and Jinu just observe the situation, with smiles on their faces.

- That she takes after both of us. - Jinu comments.

- Definitely. - Rumi agrees.

- And yeah, now I'm suspended, and I'll be able to spend the rest of today and tomorrow doing whatever I want, including spending time with you guys! - Somi says, excited.

- Spend the rest of today and tomorrow studying, you mean.

- Ah, but I wanted to go to the label with you today. To see auntie Mira and auntie Zoey. And go to set with dad tomorrow. And play with the boys in the evening.

Rumi sighs.

- Okay, fine. But you'll also study.

- Yes!! Thanks mom. I'll go get changed.

Somi quickly runs up the stairs. After a couple of minutes, she comes back wearing a jacket, jewelry and boots like the ones Rumi wore in her HUNTRIX days, with a dress in pastel pink like the clothes her dad used to wear when he was a member of the Saja Boys.

She takes after both of them, after all.

=================================

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 138

series masterlist

jack had your valentine's day planned out long before the day arrived. a cute little picnic out in the february sun, with all of your favorite snacks and possibly even some painting. but when the day finally arrived, you both woke up to a storm.

typical jack to not check the weather beforehand.

however, the day was far from ruined. instead, you had your picnic in jack's living room, spending the day listening to the raindrops against the windows and just enjoying each others' presence. jack eventually brought out his old photo albums from when he and his brothers were still kids – ones you had never seen before, because otherwise you would've been obsessing over them every day up until now.

"this is from luke's tenth birthday," jack said, pointing at a picture of his brother with his face stuffed full of cake. in the next one, a dalmatian was licking whipped cream off his face. "our dog, amber. not nearly as calm as you could think from just looking at her."

"she looks sweet, though," you commented, eyes flickering over another picture of amber fast asleep in jack's embrace.

"her looks betray her." jack shuffled a little closer to you on the couch, side of his head leaning against yours. "i've been thinking about getting a new one, actually."

"a dog?"

"no, a new brother." he hissed when your elbow thrust into his side. "maybe not a dalmatian specifically, but… i don't know. i've just thought about it."

the next page showed a few pictures of jack on a stage, sitting in front of a grand piano in a pretty suit. he can't have been more than 13, and your eyebrows rose at the sight. "a piano man, huh?"

he rolled his eyes. "mom forced me to take classes. i hated it at first, but then…" he shrugged. "i kept it up for five years, and it grew on me. it was kind of nice to have something else to focus on other than hockey."

you never could've guessed that he would have done something like that. jack was so sporty, a very typical jock boy – he seemed more likely to be the one making fun of the music nerds than be one himself.

even when you'd spent so much time with him, you realized that you still had so much to learn about him; so many new sides to discover, so many layers to unravel.

frightening? no, exciting.

"i remember this one time when i was fourteen… quinn and luke were at some friend's house, so i was the only child at home. and our parents were fighting." your gaze fell to his hand which was resting all lonely on his thigh, so you took it in yours. "they were, like, yelling and everything. and i couldn't do anything about it. so i just sat down at the piano at home, and… played." you could feel the shakiness in the deep breath he took, but you didn't say anything, instead settling for a squeeze of his hand. "i think i did it to drown out the sound. it was the only thing i could control."

of course. his need for stability and to always be in control was deeply rooted in him. it made so much sense being put in perspective with your relationship; he craved the stability of knowing you're there with him and he hated the way you pulled away, leaving him unsure.

"what made you quit?" you hummed after a few long moments of silence.

"hockey was getting more serious… and the guys on the team didn't really think it was cool to spend my free time learning how to play classical pieces."

"i'm sure you still remember something," you said, head resting on his shoulder. "you should play for me sometime."

"i promise." he kissed the top of your head before flipping over to the last page of the book, revealing even more pictures of little jack – this time with a big, red bruise on the side of his cheek and boxing gloves covering his hands. "oh, right. i used to box."

"oh, you were a little fighter, huh?" you joked. "how come?"

"hockey wasn't enough. i wanted to be physical off the ice, too." his tone was lighthearted, yet there was a hint of sincerity in it. "something about it made me feel… invincible, you know? knowing that i could take a hit and still stand to deliver one of my own."

"uh uh. sounds totally sane."

he reached up to flick your forehead with his fingers, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze as an apology. "i guess, as a kid, i felt… powerless? a lot of the time. especially when my parents argued. and boxing helped with that," he said, and you could feel him nodding along to his words. "once, my dad came home from a night out with a black eye, and i've never felt so useless. i wanted to be able to fight back for him. or myself. or anyone else who needs it."

you want to protect them, you thought to yourself. his protective instinct was clear as day – even in the way he couldn't not be there for you, even when you said you didn't need a relationship or someone to take care of you.

he didn't fight just to fight. he fought to protect. it was the same thing with his fight at the first game of his you attended; he punched that rangers player to protect his teammate, not because he wanted to injure him.

"my coaches told me that i had to quit once i joined the ntdp, though. it made sense, since i never thought i'd have to use it in real life," jack said with a shrug. "so i didn't argue. but, in some twisted way, boxing made me less physical on the ice. like i had an outlet, somewhere to just let it all go, so i could just skate away from arguments on the ice."

"you're a good man, jack hughes," you said, leaning slightly to the side so that you could look up at him, glistening eyes studying his features. "you know that, right?"

he paused for a few moments, merely breathing as his gaze fell on you. "i'm good because of you. you make me want to be good."

[mouldycakes]

"There is something wrong with the way that I am built. I... I can't, uh, I can't just enjoy happiness like regular people, you know? [...] every time something good happens in my life, I... I just I think of when it's gonna end. That's all I can think about." - Danny (S04 E19)

Original HERE.

I saw it on Twitter and wanted to have it and suffer over here ;_; Transcript of the whole conversation in 4x19 + some thoughts:

Steve: She's pretty.

Danny: What?

Steve: Amber. Can tell she really cares about you, too.

Danny: Yeah, I'll probably screw it up like I do everything else. Right? Not in my DNA to be happy.

Steve: I didn't mean that. That's not what I meant. (Earlier, Steve had said: "Danny, if she (Amber) was the same age as you, you would come up with a different excuse, whatever you need, because you can't be happy. It's impossible for you; it's not in your DNA.")

Danny: No, I'm officially agreeing with you. There is something wrong with the way that I am built. I.. I can't, uh I can't just enjoy happiness like regular people, you know?

Steve: You don't think you're being a little hard on yourself?

Danny: No, I don't. When I was a kid, my parents would go out to eat dinner. And if they were late coming home, I used to imagine that they died in a car wreck, just 'cause they were 15 minutes late. And I used to talk to God and beg him. I said, "Please just take my dad, not my mom." 'Cause I couldn't live without my mom. I mean, every time something good happens in my life, I... I just I think of when it's gonna end. That's all I can think about.

Steve: (seriously concerned) You for real?

Danny: Yeah.

Steve: That's not normal.

Danny: I know it's not normal. Listen to this. On my wedding day, I'm looking at Rachel, just about to say "I do." And all I can see is the day she's gonna serve me with divorce papers. No joke. And I... I don't know, man. The only sustained happiness I ever felt in my life so far is Grace. And, you know, it's just a matter of time before she turns 18, and then she's out the door and she marries some schmuck. I don't know.

Steve: (serious) You got to change, man. You can't live like that.

Danny: Well, I'd like very much to change. It's just not so simple, you know?

-- after losing Billy, Rick(kinda), Grace, Meka, Matt, all the stuff with Rachel and her mother, Gracie being taken away from him almost 3? times, being used as spare parts for Charlie -because if he hadn't been sick, Danny would have never known Charlie was his son and wow if that isn't a punch to the gut-, being there for his mother and sisters when they need something and then they just go 'kay thnx bye' and disappear, all the brushes with death Steve's had, plus his own, plus the stress of worrying about everyone, plus being kidnapped tortured shot and afterwards being basically abandoned by his best friend while barely out of hospital unable to walk unassisted I'm also mad Steve didn't answer his text or his last words wtf Steve?! , not to mention the casual way Danny talks about killing himself through the seasons... and I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting some stuff! man, Danny needs therapy ;_; (and I need to rewatch :D)

EDIT: HOLY SHIT I forgot about Reyes and Colombia, what did all that go - they beat the sht out of him and the guilt he had (and boy if that's not a nice starter for Danny whump... they could have probably done something else and not just beat him up...)

I have lost count also of how many people spell it Columbia and not Colombia in fanfics; un saludo pa' mis hermanos latinoamericanos.

[a103-chris-mm]

Dark Circus

chris sturniolo x reader

(go check out my au moodboards for this)

first chap + is on wattpad

They say time moved slower under the big tent.

At least, that’s what people said when they'd find themselves waking up days after a single night at Eternal Circus, wrists hurting, vision blurred, face aching with the reminiscences of a forced smile, but the true memories seemed to be shredded like confetti, replaced with an overpowering feeling of joy. To the outside world, the circus never stayed in one place for long. But to those who experienced the circus, it never truly left. Inside, the days were all just one endless loop, where the sun never quite set and the moon never quite rose. It was always showtime.

And at the center of it all was Chris, the Ringmaster.

He was tall, elegant, and draped in crimson. Chris commanded the circus like a conductor commands a symphony, except his music is made of screams and applause. No one knew his real age, though his records said 27. His smile could charm a snake, and his stare could freeze anyone, like locking one in an icebox. But never gaze into his eyes for too long. That’s how he found you. That’s how he chose you.

Chris had once been like any other ambitious performer. He loved what he did, leading a performance since he was of young age. This was what he was made for. Until one fateful night, desperate to save the dying circus their parents left behind, desperate to keep the one thing that defined him, he cautiously stepped into the mirror tent alone and made a deal with a voice older than time. In return for eternal fame and adoration, he gave up his soul and a piece of everyone else’s.

The circus has been thriving ever since.

He used hypnosis like a weapon, weaving it into every show. Audiences didn't applaud because they wanted to. They did it because they had to. He bathed in their adoration nightly, eyes closed, arms outstretched, letting the sound of claps feed the curse that kept his circus running forever.

But what is a circus with only a ringmaster? He wasn't alone.

In the amber-lit tent at the back, wrapped in heavy velvet, sat Nick, the Fortune Teller. Also 27. Also cursed. His eyes were foggy with the weight of futures, of inevitability. He saw everything, but couldn't change anything. The boy who once read tarot cards to pass time now saw truths far too cruel for fantasy. Children were never allowed in his tent. He refused them. He couldn't bear to put inescapable death into such small hands.

Nick wasn't Chris. He never longed for attention; he only longed for life. He wanted nothing more than to bask in the idea of making his own choices.

Nick once read his own cards, just once. His fate was inevitable sorrow. He so deeply wanted to give up on anything to do with those cards, burn them, destroy them, anything to get rid of his present and future. He would never read his own again.

But for his brothers? He peeked.

Chris, he saw, would fall. Violently. Gloriously. And though he told no one, he began to keep a secret journal, documenting the signs of decline. This reading was the only thing that could allow him to sleep with a smile on his face. In the quiet hours, he comforted Y/N, the Marionette, offering riddled hope and sad smiles, because her story was never supposed to end this way.

Y/N used to be a girl. Now, she danced.

Graceful and dressed in frilled porcelain dresses, she floated across the stage like a marionette because she was one. Cursed by Chris the night she said she might leave. Funny to think she'd ever be able to leave a man like Chris. Her limbs obeyed invisible strings, and her words echoed like they were coming from a wind-up doll. But her mind? Her heart? Still human. Still aching. She was his once. Still is. But she couldn't tell if her love was real or just another spell. She wished more than anything that Chris would undo it all. That he would love her enough to let her go.

Matt watched her from the shadows.

Matt, the Knife Thrower. Precision within every movement. Control in every breath. Emotionally distant and quiet, he rarely spoke to anyone unless it was to his brothers or Y/N. But when he stepped on stage and the spotlight hit, there was a fire in his eyes. The crowd watched in horror as he hurled blades at his bound targets; none of them were ever willing, none of them were safe. And yet he never missed. Never. Missing was never on Matt’s agenda.

It wasn't about violence. It was about the power. The moment just before the scream. The second when their life trembled on the edge of a blade. Knowing that he could decide to harm someone with just an inch of space.That’s the high. That’s what Chris gave him, a place where he could do what he loved without rules.

Still, Matt knew it was wrong. All of it. But he’d never betray Chris. Not because he believed in him, but because without the circus, they were nothing. And because he saw the way Y/N looked at his brother. The way she hoped.

And somewhere deep down, Matt hoped too.

One night, the wind howled louder than the applause.

A girl observed her surroundings, and her smile faltered almost as if she were confused, unaware she had caught the Ringmaster’s gaze. Chris stopped mid-speech. His pupils dilated like an animal ready to strike at its prey. Matt noticed, too, and stepped forward. A twitch in his jaw.

Nick’s cards flipped on their own. A tower. An eye. A sun.

Y/N’s strings pulled tight, tensing her muscles, as if even they sensed something was coming.

For the first time in decades, the circus stuttered. Time hiccupped. The lights dimmed not from a trick, but from fear.

Because the Ringmaster had seen a slight change.

Because the cards had spoken.

Because the knife thrower had missed his target by less than an inch.

And because the Marionette smiled.

“Time doesn’t pass here,” Nick whispered as the girl’s smile appeared a second later, no longer confused, as if she were under an enchantment. “It rots.”

And behind him, the mirror tent cracked open. Wind whistling in the air, flowing through the flaps of the tent where it all started.

The cycle had begun to break.

not proofread so if something looks off sorry

taglist: @pair-of-pantaloons @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @kenah-sturniolo @httpssturns @matt-sturnioloo

[dee-writes-angst]

Learning Love Amongst The Flowers

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x reader

SUMMARY feelings bloom so easily in the safety of your secluded garden, it's a wonder that you and your love can't help but return to it throughout your lives.

CONTENT WARNINGS tooth rotting fluff, mentions of dead parents

AUTHORS NOTE don't fret my loves, Eris is still around, and he isn't going anywhere anytime soon ;)

Special mention to @littlestw01f, hope you enjoy this pure fluff my darling Anna, you deserve it <3

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow over the Autumn Court. Leaves, aflame with the hues of fall, rustled softly in the cool breeze. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of decaying leaves and the faint, sweet aroma of late-blooming flowers. You, an avid gardener with a love for all things green and growing, found yourself exploring a less-traveled path in the dense forest.

Your heart thrummed with the excitement of discovery as you pushed past the thick underbrush, guided by a sense of curiosity that had never steered you wrong. You had always been enchanted by the magic of the Autumn Court, but today felt different. Today, you felt drawn to something special, something hidden.

After what felt like hours of wandering, you stumbled upon a large, ancient oak tree with a hollow base. Intrigued, you knelt down and peered inside, only to find a narrow passageway leading into darkness. With a determined breath, you squeezed through, emerging on the other side to a sight that took your breath away.

Before you lay a hidden garden, a secret haven untouched by time. Wildflowers and climbing vines wove together in a tapestry of colors, creating a vibrant, living masterpiece. The garden was overgrown, but the beauty of it was undeniable. You stepped forward, your fingers brushing against soft petals and rough bark, feeling a deep connection to the forgotten plants.

Days turned into weeks as you returned to the hidden garden, each visit revealing more of its secrets. You brought tools and seeds, nurturing the neglected plants back to health. It became your sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself in the rhythm of nature.

As you were carefully pruning a particularly unruly rosebush, you felt a presence behind you. You turned slowly, heart racing, to find Eris Vanserra, the enigmatic heir to the Autumn Court, watching you with keen, golden eyes.

"Eris," you breathed, surprised and wary. "I didn't hear you approach."

He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Few do," he replied with a small, almost predatory smile. "What are you doing here, in this forgotten part of the forest?"

You swallowed hard, meeting his intense stare. "I found this garden by accident. It was overgrown, abandoned. I couldn't just leave it like that."

Eris's expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "And why would you care for a place that no one remembers?"

"Because everything deserves a chance to grow," you answered honestly, your passion for gardening evident in your voice. "Even forgotten things."

For a moment, Eris was silent, his gaze drifting over the vibrant flowers and lush foliage. "You have done well," he said finally, his tone thoughtful. "This place was once a sanctuary for my mother. She loved it dearly."

You looked at him in surprise. "Your mother?"

He nodded, a shadow passing over his face. "Yes. She tended to this garden for years, until… well, until she couldn't anymore. I had all but forgotten it existed."

The air between you grew heavy with unspoken words. Eris's usual arrogance seemed to melt away in the presence of the garden, replaced by a rare vulnerability. Without thinking, you reached out and touched his hand. "Maybe we can bring it back together."

Eris looked down at your hand on his, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then, he intertwined his fingers with yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I'd like that."

From that day on, the garden became your shared secret. Eris was often busy with his duties, but he always found time to join you in the hidden sanctuary. He proved to be a surprisingly skilled gardener, his hands deft and gentle as he worked alongside you.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, your relationship with Eris deepened. What started as a tentative friendship blossomed into something more, nurtured by the quiet moments spent together in the garden. There, away from the prying eyes of the court, Eris was different. He laughed more freely, his sharp edges softened by the tranquility of the garden.

As the sun set and bathed the garden in a golden light, Eris pulled you close, his breath warm against your ear. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with a rare sincerity.

You looked up at him, confusion flickering in your eyes. "For what?"

"For bringing me back to this place," he said, his gaze intense. "For reminding me of something beautiful and true. For seeing the parts of me that I thought were long buried."

Emotion welled up within you, and you reached up to cup his face in your hands. "You are more than what you show to the world, Eris. I've always known that."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and dreams, of a future intertwined with the magic of the garden.

In the days that followed, your bond with Eris only grew stronger. The garden flourished under your combined care, a testament to the love and dedication you both poured into it. Each bloom, each new leaf, was a symbol of the life you were building together.

One particularly warm afternoon, you and Eris lay on a blanket beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient oak. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on your faces. You turned to him, your heart swelling with the depth of your feelings.

"Eris," you began softly, "I never imagined I would find something like this. Like us."

He propped himself up on one elbow, his golden eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. "Neither did I," he admitted. "But now that I have, I will never let it go."

You smiled, reaching out to trace the line of his jaw. "Nor will I."

As the seasons changed, so did your relationship with Eris. The garden, once a hidden secret, became a place of solace and joy for both of you. You spent countless hours tending to the plants, your laughter mingling with the songs of birds and the rustle of leaves.

But it wasn't just the garden that flourished. Your love for Eris grew stronger with each passing day, rooted in the shared moments and the silent understanding that passed between you. In the garden, you were free to be yourselves, unburdened by the expectations and pressures of the outside world.

As the first frost of the season glittered on the leaves, Eris took your hand and led you to a secluded corner of the garden. There, amidst a riot of late-blooming flowers, he knelt before you, his eyes filled with a fierce determination.

"Y/N," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion, "this garden has brought us together, has given us a place to nurture our love. It has shown me the depth of your kindness, your strength, and your beauty. And it has made me realize that I cannot imagine my life without you."

Your breath caught in your throat as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. Opening it, he revealed a delicate ring, adorned with a single, perfect diamond that sparkled in the morning light.

"Eris," you whispered, tears filling your eyes.

He took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger. "Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you stay by my side, here in our garden, and wherever else life may take us?"

Your heart swelled with joy and love, and you nodded, unable to speak. Eris stood, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply, sealing the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and the magic of your hidden garden.

As the years passed, the garden continued to flourish, a living testament to the love and dedication you and Eris shared. It became a place of celebration, where friends and family gathered to witness the beauty of nature and the strength of your bond.

And through it all, you and Eris remained inseparable, your love growing deeper with each passing day. The hidden garden, once a forgotten sanctuary, had become the heart of your lives, a place where you had found not only each other but also a love that would endure for all time.

In the quiet moments, when the sun dipped low and the world was bathed in the soft light of twilight, you would walk hand in hand through the garden, feeling the magic of the place seep into your very souls. And as you looked into Eris's eyes, you knew that you had found something truly extraordinary—an unbreakable bond, a love that would never fade, and a hidden garden that would forever be your sanctuary.

SUMMER: TWELVE YEARS LATER

You and Eris sat on a bench beneath the ancient oak tree, the very tree that had led you to the hidden garden so many years ago. The garden was in full bloom, its colors vibrant and its scents intoxicating. The air was filled with the hum of insects and the soft rustle of leaves, creating a symphony of life that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

Eris took your hand in his, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Do you ever think about how far we've come?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You nodded, a smile playing at your lips. "All the time. This garden has seen so much of our journey."

He turned to you, his golden eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset. "It's been our sanctuary, our haven. And it's all because of you."

You shook your head, leaning closer to him. "It's because of us. We nurtured this garden together, just as we nurtured our love."

Eris's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips warm and tender against yours. It was a kiss filled with the promise of forever, a kiss that spoke of a love that had weathered every storm and come out stronger. As you pulled away, you rested your head on his shoulder, contentment washing over you.

The garden was quiet, the world around you slowing down as you sat together, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The hidden garden had become a place of reflection, a place where you could appreciate the life you had built together and the love that had grown stronger with each passing day.

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you and Eris sat in peaceful silence, your hearts beating in perfect harmony. The garden, with its vibrant blooms and whispering leaves, seemed to hold its breath, honoring the love that had blossomed within its borders.

The hidden garden had given you so much more than you could have ever imagined. It had brought you together, given you a sanctuary, and become a living testament to the enduring power of love. And as you sat around, wrapped in the warmth of Eris's embrace, you knew that this garden, this magical place, would always be a part of your story—a story of love, resilience, and the beauty of life.

[sweetmariihs2]

My stf controversial opinions (no one asked) don't be mad at me pls don't take me seriously

I see Cedric being more like Sofia's uncle figure than father figure (he's the crazy uncle). Their bond together is definitely sweet but I think Cedric it's not a very parental guy and Roland would find their bond a bit weird since he's Sofia's father now. While Roland takes care of Sofia, Cedric gives her sweets and takes her to crazy places with him (like the sorcerers convention). He's defo the cool uncle for her even though everyone sees him as this weird guy

I don't see the appeal in cedlock but honestly I don't mind seeing stuff about them, it's a funny dynamic (please can someone explain them to me? I'm not joking)

which is funny because I'm so in love with Lorelei, Cedric and Roland's love triangle even though it's 100% fanon and they never appear together in the show at all

I don't shipp any of the children in stf, even though I get why some shipps are famous like Sofia x Hugo or Amber x Desmond, I just can't get used to the idea somehow, I can't see the chemistry, better saying. But it's nice!!! I also see it as a fun dynamic

I can't hate Wormwood, even after betraying Cedric he can't make me mad

The same applies to Cordelia. I think her character is a bit shallow :( we should have seen more of her and her personality through other episodes. I think that us as a fandom need to reunite to give her the development she deserved.

Now please don't kill me but I don't think Ruby and Jade are annoying, they're just immature. I think this can compare to Amber being mean in the start of the show, they're bad in their own ways. The way she treated them poorly since the beginning is just as bad as Ruby and Jade misbehaving!!

I don't like 70% of the two last seasons. Even the episodes where Cedric is in are just weird to watch, they don't pass the Sofia The First vibes at all :( they're nice but they can't even compare to Once Upon A Princess and season 1.

I personally don't like the protectors characters. I tried to, and I honestly don't mind a lot about their presence in the fandom (it's not like those shipps and stuff you roll your eyes whenever you see them, like I do with c*dfia) but I just don't like their presence in the show. Those episodes where Sofia was a protector trainee don't get much of my attention and Chrysta gets on my nerves just as much as Ruby and Jade do to almost half of the fandom. Honestly to finish STF those episodes were a sacrifice to watch. I couldn't pay attention to them and I had to rewatch them more than once. Their character designs also don't look like Sofia The First characters. They're not meant to be in this show.

I hate that Sofia got torn between that new unicorn character and OUR BELOVED Minimus. GIRL, MINIMUS IS A KING. WDYM you can't choose between him and an unicorn you just met. Just by the fact that her long time friend was feeling bad vibes coming from someone she just met is just a good reason to stop and think a bit. And the worst part was that Skye was fully against Minimus and was battling with him to get Sofia's attention. Like don't piss me off you just met her and Minimus watched her grow up. That episode was torture. And in the end Sofia was all "I don't know which one to choose 🥺 I'll just choose both" EXCUSE ME?!?? YOU JUST GOT TORN BETWEEN THIS NEW CHARACTER AND F ING MINIMUS

The merch group also started to make Sofia + Skye merch with him as her new horse friend and stopped making Sofia + Minimus stuff. The whole lesson of the episode was about keeping them both as her friends and you guys just replaced him. That shit pisses me off

I understand that the last seasons are so different from the first ones because the writer, Craig Gerber, had to focus on Elena of Avalor. But honestly, if I could decide between having Elena of Avalor and letting STF last seasons poorly done, or not having EOA at all but having STF as it was always meant to be........ I would have choosen the second option 😶

[letsgobarbs]

WIP Wednesday

Ooh thanks for the tag @probablyreadinsmut you wanna see my little hoard of words? you want a lil peek into my brain lab?

Here's a live of me cooking up my fanfictions this week:

But feeling very overachieving today because I finally posted another Chapter of His Young Wife (Marcus Acacius x Reader) last night.

And here's a little snippet from the new Homecoming (Dave York x Queer, Muslim!OC) chapter:

David Anthony York was wicked. He had to be. There was no other reason he had haunted her thoughts by day and her dreams by night. Maryam was taken by him since the first time she had seen him. He had looked up at her with the softest eyes the colour of molasses. Except, they hadn't been warm or sweet. His eyes reminded her of the dark pebbles down the riverbed smoothed over the years by a steady stream. Even with one eye covered under an eyepatch, they were so pretty that she was tempted to call them a gift that spoke of a gracious Creator. Tempted, but not convinced. She just couldn't trust eyes that told no stories, they didn't have the texture of tree bark, or specks of amber or black. His eyes had been a blank, even slate covered in a shiny, wet sheen that reflected the light but offered no noor, no real warmth or glow from within. 

He had looked so lost and pained with the scrunch between his brows and the deep creases that ran along his forehead. But something about the weakness and vulnerability in his eyes had struck her all wrong. His puppy-dog, baby-cow eyes didn't distract her from the falsity in the way David York had held himself. His pursed lips and tight jaw heralded a brewing storm. It had been an anger and rage so all-consuming it took root in his bones simmering under a facade of trained stillness that belied a man who had ceased grappling with his morality, a man who had beat his own conscience back with a stick until it no longer whispered at the back of his mind. The man with the prettiest eyes set on the face of a killer. 

Maryam knew the folly of giving any man an unearned chance to be close. But would it be unearned? Every action of his had gone against her first impression of him. He had been kind to Carol. Most other men in his place would have either trapped their wives in the marriage with guilt or threats, or raged against them for ‘ruining their lives’. But David had granted Carol her freedom through a smooth divorce, along with the house and an alimony. He had even stood up to Carol’s parents; he wouldn't allow them to meet their granddaughters if they couldn't accept their own daughter. He was a good father. She had held both Molly and Alice when they missed their daddy and had watched Carol struggle to fill his place in their lives. However, surely, it is best to err on the side of caution. She knew first-hand how monumentally stupid it would be to establish any sort of connection with a dangerous man.

You're being delusional, Maryam. There was no way that man was even thinking about her, let alone contemplating a connection. There was no connection. No spark. No heartbeat skips. No nothing. Men like him didn't want women like her— they lived in very different worlds. So, despite the futility, she was still thinking about the freckles on his right cheekbone, there had been four prominent ones forming a diamond shape and several lighter ones that trailed up towards his temple. It reminded her of the Little Dipper. Maryam was tempted to turn to her mother and request she pray and cleanse the house of bad vibes. Her daughter was likening a man’s freckles to constellations and that had to be a sign of Jinn or some spirits whispering these thoughts into her ear like the stories from home. She was bewitched.

Now, that suburban middle-aged man wouldn't know the first thing about black magic and influence. Maryam recited her verses anyway as she put on her shoes— partially out of habit, but to also ward off evil, protect against accidents and fate’s whimsy, and for mental fortitude and strength. She was going to see David York. Something about the way he had looked at her when she left his apartment made her worry. Molly and Alice are with him half of the weekdays and every other weekend, the custody arrangements were still being tinkered with to suit everyone involved. But Carol was taking the girls to stay with Theresa’s family for spring break.

Maryam had inquired about him with Carol, hoping to assuage some of that worry, only to learn he had recently lost friends. She hadn't wanted to pry further, it was weird to keep asking Carol about her ex-husband even if it was from a place of concern. She didn't want that concern to be misconstrued because that's all it will ever be. Nonetheless, she felt nauseous— not because she felt guilty for seeking out her friend’s ex-husband but because she was hiding it from her. This was the sort of thing you discussed with friends— perhaps not the freckles and doe eyes part, but certainly the worrying bit. 

Maryam had been at a club to support a friend at their big DJ gig where she had met Carol. They had both felt out of place, and Maryam had bought her a drink. The night had been life-altering because Carol experienced her first kiss with a woman. Maryam had pressed Carol against the wall in a secluded corner of the club, their kiss had tasted of espresso martini and strawberry cheesecake. The experience had been wholly overwhelming because Carol had cried her sorrows into Maryam’s arms who had ensured she reached home safely to her kids and by the time they met for breakfast the next day, they were best friends. 

For context: Carol thinks Dave is dead and this is her 'trying to move on' process that makes her sorta realise that she is a lesbian and she had been trying to conform to that husband and two kids lifestyle her conservative, god-believing parents expected of her. Carol dates Theresa now. And Dave isn't going to turn away a willing prey walking into his home out of concern for him— so stupid of Maryam really.

I'm also cooking up my Pero Tovar in the winter prompt for the writing through the seasons challenge organised by @guiltyasdave (Hope you're having lots of fun and relaxing on your bday trip <3) and @sizzlingcloudmentality

Do I have actual paragraphs for it? No :) But I have plot points and I have ideas, and I love my ideas, I think they're neat. It's going to be a reverse mail-order bride trope lmfao. Because I like a mail-order bride story. Pero thinks he was just interviewing for a servant post, he could figure his way around cooking and cleaning when he couldn't find another fighting gig. But he somehow ends up in one of those medieval rattling wooden prison transport carts with wooden bars and also somehow hired as a mail-order husband. Best believe the other girlies in that cart are giving him side-eyes.

share your stuff you guys lemme see what's cooking: @pedrospookie @slimybeth69 @galaxyedging @iknowisoundcrazy @joelslegalwhre @jessthebaker @pedroswife69 @joelswritingmistress @missyorkswhore @peepawispunk @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist @everybodylovedcontractors and anybody else who wants to share <33

[wejustfit]

Non-exhaustive list as to why Alex leaving Seattle in a letter made zero sense

-The existence of the twins makes zero sense. I know the Grey's Anatomy timeline makes no sense to begin with, but if Alexis and Eli were supposed to be five (six?), that means they would have already been born by the time Alex was being faced with felony charges in s13. You would think the court or the lawyer would have figured out the embryos had been used, and we would have known sooner.

-Alex would not have handled the news nor that situation well. He would not have been able to just go on with his life until he left. When he first heard over the phone, he would have had some extension of a breakdown. He wouldn't have just been able to move on with his life, sleep next to Jo, etc following the news. But in the show? He does.

-He knows damn well he was who Meredith had. Sure she had her sisters, but she needed Alex too. It's not like she was in a thriving relationship at the time either, so I genuinely do not see how he could have left Meredith in the dust without so much as telling her in person.

-Jo was recovering from a depressive episode. She was doing great, their relationship was great. I don't believe Alex could have possibly pulled this stunt on her. He physically couldn't. Imagine this set her back and he wasn't there to know? Alex Karev couldn't do that to her. He wouldn't.

-This isn't truly a win for Izzex shippers. She lied. And if she didn't lie, she withheld a truth. Legally she wasn't entitled to tell him, but morally? We know Isobel Stevens is a morally wrong person, but this? And Alex not only FORGAVE her but proceeded to fall in love with her? That makes no fucking sense. He couldn't forgive her for that.

-Alex has a history working with lawyers/investigators and the like. You really think he doesn't understand co-parenting? I know Alex Karev would have gotten a lawyer involved. Knowing Izzie he should have made sure she can't cut him out of Alexis and Elis life if Izzie and Alex have an argument. Thats what he would have done had the show not been RUSHING to get him off-screen. Granted, I am well aware JC left abruptly.

-His Iowa family. Given, Kansas is closer to Iowa than Washington, thats the only thing. His mother knew Jo, was familiar with Jo. Jo also clearly knew Amber personally. And she had met Jimmy while he was still alive. Izzie didn't meet Helen, or Jimmy, or even Aaron since he came to Seattle after Izzie left. I genuinely believe his mom doesn't know because how can he explain this to her without setting her into an episode or a break.

-Izzie left him in a letter. He wouldn't do that to Jo, Meredith, and Bailey after knowing VIVIDLY how badly it hurt him many years ago.

-Back to how it isn't some screwed win for Izzex. He didn't WANT kids with Izzie. He reiterated time and time again that he WANTED kids with Jo, and they both WANTED kids together. He didn't want kids with Izzie—if he did he would have.

-He addressed Jo's letter to "Jo Karev". KAREV. You cannot sit here and tell me he did that and it didn't completely gut him.

-"Our bed". He would never fucking say that. The our bed line? May have been the most painful part of his letter to Meredith. He wouldn't say that, he just wouldn't. And I can say that on good authority because he was my favorite character for sixteen fucking seasons. Yes, even season 1.

-How could he just pack up his life and move to "middle of nowhere, Kansas" without knowing enough about Alexis and Eli. What if they had a health condition? What men had been in their lives? What women? How did Izzie plan on raising them? Are they religious? Private or public school? Has anything bad ever happened to them? Was she ever going to tell him?

-Alex Karev is known for being a little cynical. You are really telling me he handled the news of having KIDS he didn't know about positively?

-The handwriting in those letters is not fucking his handwriting. We saw his handwriting in season 5/6 when he wrote the cards for Iz after her brain surgery. The handwriting (rushed or not) lines up ZERO with the handwriting in the three letters.

-He isn't in love with Izzie, it's stockholm syndrome.

-"I tell the truth, it's the one thing I've got going for me", where the fuck did that go? You lied to Jo for DAYS before you left, aswell as Meredith, Bailey, and everyone else

-His character development was beautiful. Hate on him all you want, but he was a good guy. The last thing he did? Cheat on his wife and lie to his best friends.

-The letter insinuates that he slept with Izzie or at least in the same bed WHILE jo was still at home in Seattle wearing her rings, being fucking married to him. Thats cheating

-The letter passes the message that he cheated/is actively cheating on Jo. How UNREALISTIC is that.

- He left part of him in Seattle 1000% percent. Some things don't fade with distance and I can't imagine he's perfectly okay in Kansas. I think this ending of his was the worst thing he's endured. He deserved a happy ending and did not get that if you think about the logistics.

[alectoperdita]

jou makes kaiba a character bento of blue eyes. kaiba believes this is a murder attempt via starvation because how can he eat blue eyes

Anon, I'm not sure if this was what you were hoping for, but here we go.

---

"Fubuki, if you don't put on your jacket this minute, I'm punting you out the door like a football!"

A child's screeching echoed through the high-ceiling foyer, followed by two sets of footsteps pounding across the marble.

Seto listened, barely straining to make out the sound of his husband giving chase to their four-year-old son. There was Fubuki's obstinate "no!", the clatter of some piece of furniture, and Katsuya's bitten-off swearing. After a beat, he considered getting up and checking on them.

But then, bright amber eyes, framed by golden blond bangs, peered up from his lap. Asuka, swinging her legs gently, reached out with one chubby hand to offer him a mini-sausage off her plate.

"They'll sort it out," he muttered, both to himself and her.

Her response was to wave the sausage more insistently. The beginning of a pout formed on her stained lips.

Quickly, he bent over and took a small bite. This was their bargain: she finished her breakfast as long as he ate with her. The taste was a bit on the bland side. But she was three, so they didn't want to flavor her food too heavily.

Beaming with pride, his daughter stuffed the rest into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out, reminiscent of a chipmunk.

Seto couldn't help but grin at the picture he made. His hand was halfway into his pocket for his phone before he caught himself. God, he was becoming one of those parents.

Thankfully, his husband's reappearance in the kitchen door restored his dignity. Katsuya's hair was tousled and sticking out in every which way, reminding Seto of their youth. He leaned heavily against the door jamb, using the frame to support himself and the bundle hefted under one arm. Fubuki kicked his feet wildly as they dangled in the air, but it wasn't in a tantrum. He enjoyed being carried like a sack of potatoes for some reason.

"Got 'em," Katsuya grunted, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. It was a dreadfully handsome look on him. "Is Asuka ready to go?"

Seto plucked the napkin off the dining table and wiped her face clean. As soon as he finished, he invited her to wordlessly hop down from his lap. Without further prompting, she lifted both arms so he could help her into her jacket.

"Now she is," he announced and stood.

Asuka laughed and twirled, before running to join Katsuya and Fubuki.

As much as Seto could spend the rest of the day staring at his impossible family, the kids were due at kindergarten and he had an early meeting. While Katsuya tidied the children's appearance, zipping up Fubuki's jacket resoundingly so he couldn't throw it off, Seto brought over the bentos from the kitchen counter.

He arched a questioning eyebrow at his husband as he handed them off. "Don't you think you've overdone it?"

In addition to each child's usual bento box, there was a two-tiered one. Then again, Katsuya always slipped comfortably into the role of house husband when it was the off-season for the pro-circuit.

Warmth spread through Seto's body when their hands brushed. Katsuya's fingers purposefully lingered on his wrists. Nor did he let go after he closed his palms over the back of Seto's hands, drawing him in for a short kiss.

Katsuya smiled. "Nah, the big one's for you."

"You didn't have to."

"Someone says you've been skipping lunch lately. So now you don't have an excuse."

Seto sighed. "Isono."

"I'm not giving up the identity of my mole that easily." Katsuya gave a wink.

Another kiss, a muttered goodbye; and then they were gone. The mansion always felt eerily quiet without them.

*****

Meetings were the bane of his existence. On days like today, when they were packed back-to-back, Seto longed for a megalomaniac or two. At least they had the decency to settle matters, even if it was of life and death, through Duel Monsters.

He collapsed into his office chair for the first time since he arrived hours ago. At the moment, he couldn't bear to check his inbox and see how many messages awaited his attention.

Likely too many.

For now, he wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of his private office.

Eventually, his gaze roamed across his desk's surface: paperwork, pens, photos of his family, a black two-tier bento box.

He straightened.

He'd completely forgotten about the lunch Katsuya made for him until now.

Well, it was lunch time. He didn't have an excuse now as Katsuya said earlier. And he so hated to disappoint his husband. Plus, he liked Katsuya's cooking.

The top level contained an assortment of side dishes: a small salad, stewed beef and vegetables, and a couple of the same hot dog octopuses Katsuya always made for the children's bentos. But the tier below that? Seto gawked at what he uncovered.

Katsuya had been making character bento for Fubuki and Asuka since the start of autumn. The kids loved showing off their colorful arrangements to their classmates. Over time, Seto too had watched his husband get increasingly more creative and elaborate with their lunches.

It appeared he was no exception.

A rather faithful depiction of his ace monster stared back at him. Shaped out of suspiciously blue-tinted rice, his Blue-Eyes roared triumphantly at a background of black rice. It was mostly the head, neck, and upper shoulders with a hint of the wings, but Katsuya had captured its essence, using carefully cut pieces of dried seaweed to fill in the finer details and contour.

Seto wondered how long it took him to make this.

He snapped a photo for posterity. Then he tested his husband.

I think your plan may have backfired.

Katsuya responded instantly.

Why's that?

There's no way I can wreck her majesty.

I love you, even if you are a huge dork.

[i-cant-sing]

Hey snow I don't know the difference between an ask or a request but yesterday I had my second seizure and was wondering how yanderes from any of your Aus would react to us having a seizure right in front of them like a grand mal seizure if that's ok (I've been stalking you for a while and remember that request for an epilepsy reader!!)

I REMEMBER MAKING THAT POST BUT FORGOT BECAUSE I COULDNT CHOOSE A CHARACTER😭😭 I still cant, but imma go with yandere Surgeon dad Dabi because u can't go wrong with Dabi (plus lawyer Hawks)

Anyways, imagine that after the whole Keigo and Dabi calling CPS on reader's parents and having them arrested, with Keigo pretending to help reader's mom by taking her case pro bono but is actually framing her to be an unstable and unfit mom so that Keigo and Dabi can officially adopt you. Meanwhile, reader is pulling her hair out because her innocent mom is in jail and she's living with practically two strangers whose kindness apparently knows no bounds but there's still a gut feeling that is telling her to leave these guys as soon as possible but with no money and no contacts, she can't bail her mom out unless it's Keigo and his firm who helps her out and sure hes telling her to not worry and focus on school or whatever, but reader can't not worry because everytime she asks about her mother, things only seem to be getting worse for her case so now she is skipping school and lying to Keigo and Dabi about her whereabouts so that she can spend time by herself to work on her mom's case... she just needs one- one evidence to prove her innocence.

Now I imagine that for a teen who's just about to enter into adulthood and can already feel all the weight of responsibilities, she's absolutely stressed af and idk how or what triggers it, maybe she hit her head/was beaten by someone, maybe she forgot to take her meds, maybe she took too much caffeine and has been missing out on sleep for too long, but the seizures occurred... that too at the worst possible time.

Keigo and Dabi had noticed that something was up with you, you looked far too miserable and always had dark circles under your eyes, and when Keigo decided to pick you up early from school one day for a quick lunch with him and Dabi, he was surprised that you had been skipping school for many days. Later that day, when you finally returned home, they decided to confront you.

"So, how was your day?" Keigo approached the gentle approach. You shrugged, just playing with the food on your plate. "Fine."

Keigo looked at Dabi, who was practically watching you like a hawk, gaze piercing as he analysed every movement, every breath you took. He was clearly pissed; Keigo recalled his reaction when he told Dabi about how you've been skipping school for some time. Dabi was ready to send Amber Alert on your ass (he and Keigo both have contacts at the police station) but Keigo was able to calm him down, knowing well that Dabi wasnt truly mad at you, he was just worried. Concerned that you may be hurt, and although both of them care about you, Dabi is a very overprotective type of dad. And since Dabi struggle to show vulnerability, he usually masks it with anger.

"Yeah? School giving you a tough time, hm?" Keigo asked softly, ready to see if you'd lie or come clean. You paused, finally looking up from your plate.

"No... school's fine." You placed your fork down, pushing your seat back. "Can I be excused? I have a test to prepare for-"

"No." Dabi said harshly, and Keigo moved his hand to hold Dabi's, but the latter pulled it away.

You looked at them confused, more so at Dabi's tone. "Um, what?"

"Honey-" Keigo tried one more attempt at gently approaching you, but Dabi had other plans.

"You're lying." He stated, throwing his utensils on the plate. "We know youre lying. Wanna come clean now?" He asked with his arms crossed across his chest.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you composed yourself. He couldn't- they couldn't possibly know?

You cleared your throat. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, may I be excused? I need to study-" you started standing up, hoping to leave this interrogation as quickly as possible.

"Sit down!" Dabi yelled, and you immediately sat down. "You've been lying to us! How long did you think you'd get away with it? Did you really think we wouldn't know you've been skipping school?!"

"I- I don't know-" you tried to lie again but Dabi slammed his hands on the dinner table, making you and Keigo jump.

"I swear to god- if you say you don't know one more fucking time-" Keigo sprang up and held Dabi's arm, squeezing it to tell him to calm down.

Dabi pulled his arm away from Keigo, and wagged his finger at you. "One chance- you have one chance to explain. And you better not lie this time."

Realising you had no chance to avoid this, you confessed that you had been skipping school to work on your mom's case, looking for evidence, asking around your alcoholic dad's addicted friends to tell the jury that your father was abusive to your mom both physically and emotionally, basically you were looking for anything that would help prove your mother's innocence.

So... you went back to your old house, the one in the "bad neighbourhood" and even met your dad's even worse friends, endangering yourself.

"Why didn't you just come to us? We would have helped." Keigo asked, brows raising in concern.

You nodded. "I know but I didn't want to- you're doing what you can for my mom, and I just needed to do something. I cant just sit here while she rots in her cell because of my mistake!" You looked at Dabi. "And I found something that could help her! Look, if you just- if you just come to the court and tell them that my injuries were because of some medical condition or some accident, they could potentially throw out the whole case!"

Dabi narrowed his eyes at you. "And your mom would be free."

"Yeah!"

"And your father would be free too."

You nodded. "I mean, yeah. If there isn't a case, there's. no reason for him to stay in jail."

"Have you completely lost it?! Do you hear yourself?!!" Dabi yelled, pushing away Keigo who was pulling him away from you. "No! She needs to hear this!" He looked back at you. "I dont know whether you've hit your head or if you inhaled something when you met your father's druggie friends, but suggesting to free that piece of shit, TUB OF LARD, WASTE OF SPACE, HUMAN EXCREMENT just so that you can bail schizophrenic mommy out is fucking INSANE!"

Your mouth dropped open as tears welled up in your eyes, your breathing getting shallower as Dabi's words echoed in your head.

"Dabi, stop-" Keigo started, getting in the middle of you two, but it didn't stop Dabi from yelling awful things.

"All she's done by lying to us is endanger herself! Look at her, she's not sleeping, she not eating! And all we wanted was to take care of her! But all she wants is her mentally sick mother, who news flash-! Is still not a good fucking human being! She may have been abused by her husband to become how she is, but she had plenty of time before to leave him and run away with Y/n!" And this time, Dabi looked over from Keigo's shoulder and directly at you. "And I'm not making this up, this is what the psychiatrist said in the court after she had examined your mother! She's just as much to blame as your father, Y/n! They're both shitty-!" He stopped when you broke into a sob, making Keigo turn around as well.

"Y/n, honey-" the blonde came closer, only for you to fall down to your knees as you clutched your head with your hands, eyes squeezing shut. Your breathing became shallower and your body began to slowly shake.

And Dabi instantly knew something was wrong. This was not- this is not some normal reaction to an awful reality check.

"Y/n?" Keigo called softly, pulling your hands away from your head, as you finally snapped open your eyes and they held all the dread in the world.

Dabi realised it before it actually happened.

"She's seizing!"

Your eyes rolled back and your body began convulsing violently, your body falling back, but Dabi rushed forward to catch you before you could hit your head.

"Keigo, grab a pillow!" He ordered as he glanced at the clock and began timing your seizure. Keigo grabbed a pillow and as Dabi lifted your head, he slid it underneath to cushion your head.

Dabi then turned your body to the side, looking over your body going through alternating tonic clonic stages. Your limbs would violently jerk first, your eyes blinking rapidly before falling into the next stage where your entire body would stiffen and your back arches at an unusual angle, your body losing control of your muscles and bowel incontinence follows.

Keigo could only watch in horror as your body went through painful movements and you urinated yourself unconsciously.

"Dabi-" the dread in his voice wasn't missed by Dabi, but the doctor only told him to calm down and wait as he kept looking between you and the clock.

4 minutes. For 4 minutes, you convulsed.

Dabi had already narrowed down the causes for your seizure, as you never had a history of epilepsy, and now you had one episode probably because of all the stress you've been under, coupled with lack of sleep and food and excessive intake of caffeine, making him feel awful for yelling at you instead of-

"Dabi." Keigo called, nodding his head at you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your vision still blurry but you could make out Dabi and Keigo's faces.

From all prolonged contractions, your muscles were now fatigued and you felt extremely tired and confused.

"W-what happened?" You asked, not realising that you were on the floor or that you had wet yourself.

Dabi swallowed thickly, pushing all his concern down. "You- you had a seizure."

"I did?"

"Yes. But you don't need to worry, I'll take care of it. You must be feeling tired, hm?"

You closed your eyes and hummed. You did feel tired.

"Its okay, you go to sleep, then. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" You only hummed as Dabi leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead, while Keigo took off his jacket and wrapped it covered you with it.

As you fell into a deep slumber, Dabi collected you in his arms and nodded at Keigo to take the car out. They were gonna take you to the hospital, just to confirm his diagnosis and make sure that you don't actually have epilepsy. And if you do, then get you all the proper medication and treatment for it.

Your cheek rested against Dabi's chest, his heart melting as you nuzzled closer. Keigo broke several traffic laws as he sped through the streets, but he only had to take one look at you to remember how utterly helpless he felt while you seized. To do nothing but wait... until that 5 minute mark hit and realise the danger you were in.

One thing is for sure-

Dabi and Keigo are never letting you out of their sights ever again. Ever.

[irithiadourden]

TELL US ABOUT THE AZRIS KIDS (Vesta, Astraia, Fintan, Ignatius, Sorin, Ilkay and Elaia.) PRETTY PLS

Aw, it makes me so happy that someone wants to know more about my delulu! Thanks Anon.

In this headcanon, Azriel and Eris have been together for about 153 years, and celebrated their mating ceremony about 103 years ago.

Velta: she is 102 years old and has black, wavy hair like Azriel's, bronze skin, and amber eyes like Eris'. She is the eldest and the first Shadowsinger in over 600 years. Very adventurous, stubborn and rebellious. Vel loves both her parents dearly, but she is slightly more attached to Azriel. Eris cried for several minutes the first time he held her in his arms. She has a complicated relationship with her uncle Rhysand, but loves her aunt Nesta. Velta has run away to her aunt's house several times after arguing with her parents. She was best friends with Jaya, Vassa and Jurian's daughter, and she is now friends with Merel, Jaya's daughter. Vel is currently Autumn's Spymaster, a terribly boring job in times of peace. She has a house in Autumn near the sea, but often escapes to Hybern to explore. Neither of her parents know about this.

Astraia: she is 101 years old and has wavy black hair and the pale complexion typical of the Vanserra. Eris always tells her that she wears constellations on her face, as she has many freckles. Unlike Velta, she is much more relaxed, and her favourite hobby has always been reading. Ray is naturally very curious, hates fighting and loves to travel. When she turned 30, she spent another 30 years exploring Prythian. It was Azriel who convinced Eris that they couldn't hold her back from her desire to experience life and get to know the other courts. He was also the one who stayed up all night hugging Eris because he missed her terribly when she left. Astraia collects objects whenever she travels. Apparently, she is the heir of Autumn, although she doesn't feel the magic or that special connection with the land that her father often describes.

Fintan: He is 96 years old and the spitting image of Eris. He has red hair, amber eyes, pale skin and many freckles. Finn wears his wavy hair short. He currently lives in the Summer Court and works for Tarquin. He hates the heat with all his being as he has the Vanserra fire in his blood. However, the High Lord of Summer offered him a position, which he accepted. Of course, this has nothing to do with the fact that Malik, Tarquin's son, lives in the palace. He was always very close to Eris and still writes to him regularly, even though he is now an adult. Azriel complains that Finn only writes to Eris and barely mentions him. The shadowsinger is still a little jealous of this. He has a soft voice and sings beautifully. Finn has always had a combination of Azriel's reserved personality and Eris's determination and volatile temperament.

Ignatius: He is 81 years old and is a copy of Azriel, from his hair and height to his physical build and eyes. He has wings, apparently due to a combination of Eris's magic and Az's Illyrian genes. He is closest to Velta. His family affectionately calls him Izzy, which he hates, but he allows them to call him that in private. He has an extremely outgoing personality, which reminds Az of Cassian. Since meeting Illyria, Ignatius has been insistent on getting involved, pressuring his parents so that they, in turn, pressured Rhysand to change things there. He is close friends with Nyx, and the two of them joined forces and repeatedly got into trouble until the mutilation of the females' wings was completely stopped. Ignatius is Carynthian and currently holds the position of General in the most powerful of the Illyrian legions. He had a huge crush on Emerie for years.

Sorin: he is 49 years old and has been a troublemaker for as long as he can remember. He is very similar to Eris, but has auburn hair instead of red, and hazel eyes like Az, as well as lightly tanned skin. He learnt to sneak into the passageways of Forest House at a very young age. Rin owns twelve smokehounds (his siblings have between one and three at most). He still lives at Forest House when he's not at Day Court, and much to his annoyance and horror, Azriel sometimes treats him as if he were still a teenager (in fae terms, he is technically quite young). He has a special aptitude for healing magic, and Thesan took him on as a student. Although he acts tough, he has a big heart, and animals are his weakness. He has very nimble fingers and has earned a reputation for being incredibly good at repairing wings, especially those of the Peregryns.

Ilkay: He is 49 years old and has a calm personality that is very distinct from Sorin's. Everyone was surprised to find that he was his accomplice. In fact, they are not so different; Sorin is extremely outgoing, whereas Ilkay is introverted. Physically, he resembles Azriel more, although he has auburn hair and green eyes like Azriel's mother. Kay lives in the mountains on the border between the Winter and Autumn Courts, but he often visits his parents and siblings, and he spends a lot of time travelling. Unlike Astraia, however, he does this to see his family, rather than because he likes to travel. He raised a Phantom panther cub, a very rare breed of creature native to the Winter Court that was thought to be extinct. They are similar in nature to smokehounds, but generally wilder and harder to tame. Sometimes he thinks he can hear the wind whispering in the snowy peaks or the trees telling stories as he walks through Autumn's woods. However, he never mentions this because he doesn't consider it normal.

Elaia: She is 46 years old and is the least similar to her parents. She has the honey-coloured eyes of her grandmother, Nerina, and her hair is reddish-blonde like that of her great aunts. She is also the only one of her siblings besides Ignatius to have wings. She never used to cry as a child and has grown accustomed to getting her own way, either because she is the youngest in the family or because she can convince anyone with a look. She has a kind yet firm character. She dislikes wasting time and hates the thought that all her siblings already know what they want to do with their lives, whereas she does not. Elle lives in the Forest House and looks after the horses because she loves them. She is the most involved in court politics and always attends Autumn's council meetings. Despite being somewhat capricious, she has her feet on the ground. She hates injustice. She often clashes with Eris, but she can easily convince Azriel. Elle is a daddy's girl, thanks to Az.

Wow, that's a lot of text. If you are interested in knowing more about any of them specifically, let me know Nony.

[ihopesocomic]

What are some scraped ideas that you had for the IHS comic?

Here be a list:

Carnelian was originally planned to originate from an order of warrior lion mercenaries named after types of weaponry. They were located in an area of the map known as Acacia Grove (which was roughly in the empty territory between the Thundering Mountains and the Kingblessed Coast). We wrote it out because it seemed like a ton of wasted potential. I'm reusing the idea for one of my IHS OCs though.

A couple of things we had planned but changed due to critique from readers include: Hope opting to choose to disown her parents vs. being exiled and Diamond being non-binary trans masc as opposed to a trans lioness. The latter was back when we had them and Wind as our only canon trans characters and yep, we were in danger of falling into stereotyping so kudos to that anon who very kindly pointed it out for us.

Hopeful was originally going to have a broken back leg vs. an undeveloped limb. We changed this so that her disability would not feel like a tragedy hanging over her like it does with Nothing and somewhat switched this circumstance over to Bronze instead, showing that - despite the loss of his limb - he is still capable of carrying out the duties handed down to him but with assistance and accommodation from the other tunnel guards.

We were originally gonna use wc-style names similar to My Pride but that got dropped almost immediately because we wanted to make it easier for prides to be told apart.

We originally were gonna have a tigress character who the girls were going to meet and converse with, to highlight how tigers are critically endangered and how such a thing leads their culture of depending on the self vs. folklore heroes. Unfortunately, we couldn't verify if the South African reserves that house these tigers are managed ethically and we didn't want to promote anything problematic. Thus, she was replaced by a pair of cheetahs instead.

Daffodil was originally a lot older and a minion of Rose's. They were replaced by Heather and made into a reincarnation of Quiet.

We wanted to do a side comic for Careful but soon realised we would not have time for this. It's probable I'll dedicate a written story to her in the future however.

Fade was originally planned to be killed accidentally by Storm.

Diamond was originally going to be a deaf lion known as Zoisite. We changed this due to feeling that we would be unable to properly portray deafness in comic form. Zoisite as a name was retained for Amber's aunt, however.

Zircon was originally known as Topaz. - RJ

[winchester-girl67]

Raven Eyes

Summary: Half-Demon and half-angel, the reader struggles to control her outbursts of anger. Until she meets someone who makes her blood boil in a whole other way. She searches for her half-sister, Claire, with the help of the Winchester brothers and finds that, maybe, being human isn't all bad.

Requested by @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld : “Hey can i request a Dean or Sam Winchester x reader where the reader is a Nephalem (half angel half demon) and super powerful because Nephalem are the most powerful hybrid and Dean or Sam fall in loved with her because she is so sweet, shy, etc and in the end they end together? With smut is you want to added"

Pairing: Dean x Nephalem!reader 

Word Count: 11,913

Rating: mature 18+ MDNI

Warnings: not canon, language, mature themes, reverse age gap (kind of), violence/blood (gun, biting, restraints - Claire is tied to a chair), smut (p in v, unprotected sex), brief mention of body insecurity, injury, nightmares, maybe some anger control issues, angst, a little pining, kissing/cuddling, reader has one defining characteristic (raven eyes), star wars trilogy spoilers? (brief mention), mention of Sam and Dean slash fiction

A/N: This really got away from me, especially the word count, lol. The reader has both sweet/shy moments and bold/sassy ones; but I thought it was a good mix of energy for an angel/demon hybrid. Enjoy!

_____

Ugh...

You kicked the empty can under your foot down the dark alleyway. It landed in a puddle with a splash and you growled and kicked the glass bottle next. It shattered against the brick wall at the dead end, scattering into a myriad of pieces that rippled the top of the same puddle. 

Finally, that felt great. 

You just needed to break something. So, you did it again, lining up the next beer bottle. This one, full and unopened. You'd brought it outside with you from the bar you were currently venting behind. 

Alcohol did little to nothing for you, you were pretty sure the only buzz you ever got off it could be chalked up to a placebo effect. 

The bottle hit the wall, popped, and fizzed as it streamed down the bricks. The amber liquid staining a trail to the pavement below. It was somewhat satisfying, but... you wanted to break more shit. 

So much more. 

It was the demon’s blood in you, the urge to create chaos and torment just for fun. Although, ninety percent of the time it lost out to the half of you that was part angel. 

You didn't want to be evil and you didn't want to be good. You were all shades of grey and that was fine because you knew exactly who you were. Sort of. 

You were a Nephalem; half-demon, half-angel. 

Yeah, your parents were a piece of work. Try growing up in that household. Literal definition of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil -or in this case, a demon- on the other. 

But opposites attract, right. 

You never really fit in. As a child or now as an adult. Not with your father's angelic colleagues or your mother's demonic friends. You were one of a kind. 

'Unique. Unlike any other.' Your father would tell you.

'Powerful. A force to be reckoned with.' Your mother would say.

You loved them, your parents. Even if they drove you nutty and pulled at your limbs like some savage game of tug-o-war. Castiel and Meg had good intentions but you needed to stand on your own two feet for the first time.

So, here you were hanging out in the back alley of some highway dive off to the side of some two-star motel. Popping the cork on your own internal bottle of frustrations. The blood in your veins could only be shaken so much before you lost control and that was the point of breaking shit.

To calm your nerves and it usually worked, but not tonight. Tonight was different.

Your -sort of- half-sister, Claire, called you up for some help on a case she was working on. Fucking werewolves. She needed back up but when you arrived you couldn't find her. Anywhere!

When you asked the greasy bartender if he'd seen her and showed him her picture on your phone, all he said was 'I wish I had, damn'. Then he proceeded to shake out his hand as if he'd touched something hot and made a crude face with a little wink added in your direction... you almost ripped his face off right there, but there were too many witnesses.

A waitress flirting with some guy with more hair than a barbie doll and some guys playing pool; one of them obviously hustling the others. He was kinda cute actually -had a nice smile, short dirty-blonde hair and a scruff on his jaw that was way too trimmed to be natural- but you weren't here for that.

You had to find Claire.

You fisted your hands until your fingernails dug into your palms and bleed. Then hissed and watched the skin stitch itself back together under the orange flood lights of the alleyway.

That helped a little. The pain. You did it again, satisfying the demon within and hissing out a breath at the sharp sting each nail made as they buried into your flesh. Then. You breathed in and out like your father taught you. Slow and steady.

Inhale: one, two, three... Exhale: one, two, three...

Then repeat as many times as it takes to appease the angelic grace entwined within your soul.

When your blood was at war it felt like the epic internal battle of a Jedi struggling with the force -you had forced your father, Cas, to watch the recent Star Wars trilogy with you a couple of days before you left to meet Claire and really connected to the Kylo Ren/Ben Solo character and his dilemma of whether to embrace the pull to the light or give into the dark side- but a nephalem didn't have that choice. The only solution was to embrace it all, whatever murky shade of grey that turned out to be. But there were times you still struggled with it, times you wished you had more control over your heart and mind.

Times like now with that fucking bartender. Who even has frosted tips anymore, seriously?! What a douche.

He knew something and he wasn't telling you, you could hear his heart beat just a fraction quicker when he lied.

You let out a frustrated howl and kicked at the puddle, splashing and jumping until your boots and pant legs were soaked. You growled and fisted your hair in your hands and pulled. Frustrated to no end.

"Now that's a losing battle, if I ever did see one." Said a husky voice and you spun around to nothing but shadows behind you at the mouth of the alley.

What? "Who said that?"

"Don't get me wrong, that was entertaining as hell but that puddle's always going to be a puddle." A man stepped out of the shadows with a twisted smirk. "Unless you have the right tools... Maybe a mop and bucket." Oh, he thinks he's funny. You didn't laugh, you glared and he stepped directly under the flood light near the rear door. He pumped his eyebrows once and rubbed the trimmed scruff on his chin. "Geez, tough crowd. Why you so pissy, squirt?"

"Fuck off." Your guard was up.

"Big language for such a little girl. You're trouble, aren't you?" He said with a deep laugh. He fucking laughed. And took a step closer when you didn't respond. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?"

"My mother would rip you to shreds just for sneaking up on me."

Seriously, how'd he do that? You were usually hyper aware of your surroundings... but you were also in your head, duelling it out.

He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your wet jeans sticking to your calves. His tongue teased his bottom lip and he met your stare again. You scowled knowing exactly what he was thinking and crossed your arms in front of your chest to obstruct his view.

"You got some fire in you, squirt."

Screw you, pretty boy.

"Call me, squirt, one more time. I. Dare. You." You said through clenched teeth and stepped out of the puddle, bringing you chest to chest with this man.

Okay, maybe chest to chin -you still had to look up at him- but you weren't as small as he made you sound, at least you didn't think so. But one thing was for sure, you were a lot older than you looked, probably older than him... but you were kind of immortal too, so there was that.

You looked near the same age though, for what it's worth, and you felt young. Out from under your parents' -hypothetical for the most part- wing for the first time. No more babysitter.

He looked amused, "Okay, little trouble. Wanna tell me what's got your feathers in a fluff?"

"The hell do you care?"

His expression turned emotionless like a poker face, "Maybe I don't." Then he smiled, "Or maybe, I do."

You knew where you'd seen him before now, playing pool inside, "How'd you do with your little side hustle?"

"Oh, I cleaned up," he smirked, he saw you watching him inside. "I'm Dean, by the way... Winchester. And you are?" He asked, keeping his arms crossed against his chest and mirroring you.

"Leaving," you said quietly and unintentionally shoving your shoulder into his as you walked for the exit of the alley.

Fucking Dean Winchester. You knew exactly who he was, you just didn't know what he looked like, until now. Your father warned you to stay away. Said he was the type to shoot first and ask questions later and if he found out you were a nephalem, that's exactly what he'd do.

"Hold up a second, squirt." He called as he jogged after you and grabbed your arm.

Dean yanked you back and you spun around, twisting out of his hold. You smacked him in the chest and he shoved back into the brick wall. Hard. You always forget how fragile humans were, you didn't spend much time with them after all.

He huffed like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. His eyes wide and watching you. Yeah, you were strong as hell and that was only ten percent. You felt a little bad for the poor guy but he did ask for it. You clearly wanted to be left alone.

"I told you not to call me that!" You growled, pointing your finger in his face. "I don't have time for this."

"Why? Got some mailboxes to knock over?" He teased and rubbed his chest when you backed off. "Oh, please tell me you're gonna spray paint obscene doodles on the billboard across the street... I'll help. Need a lookout?"

If he was flirting, it wasn't landing and if he was teasing, it was pissing you off. You weren't some teenager tagging billboards, even if that jackass CEO, Dick Roman, deserved it. You didn't know why, you just didn't like him or his cheesy smile, but he'd get his, they usually do. 

"What do you want?" You huffed at him, glancing down at his hands just in case. 

You heard the stories of the Winchester brothers. They weren't opposed to sucker punches, especially with an angel blade. Even if an angel blade could hardly hurt you, your mother trained you to always be prepared, vigilant.

"You were asking around about a blonde girl, Claire Novak, I'm a friend of hers. Actually, more like a big brother and I haven't been able to reach her." He confessed and took a step forward, then another and another until you were the one backed up against the opposite wall of the alleyway. "What do you want with her?"

For a human, you had to admit, he was fucking intimidating. His eyes hooded, nostrils flared and you felt his hand fist the collar of your t-shirt. You could easily push him off if you wanted but the brush of his knuckles over your collarbone made your knees knock together and you practically swallowed your tongue.

The feuding blood in your veins quieted as your heart beat a little faster and sweat broke out across your skin. Your lips fell open and you just stared up at him. At a loss for words.

Was this what it was like to feel... human? Desire? Vulnerability?

But you weren't vulnerable, not physically, your power outmatched that of a nephilim. Nephilim had the inconvenience of having to be half-human where that half of you was all demon. Pure darkness and indignation.

Being a nephalem wasn't easy. Especially being the only one ever known to exist. You had to carve your own path.

You had a conscience about the bad things you did and a will to do good, but nothing was ever that simple. You'd do a good deed to appease the angel grace pumping in your veins but it would always turn out sideways. And when you did something bad -perhaps out of selfishness and greed- you'd feel bad.

Demons had it easy. Do what you want, when you want. Angels had it even better though, their good always turned out good. Despite the fact that not all angels were all that good and not all demons were all bad.

If they couldn't figure it out with one blood line, how would you?

You felt like you were constantly at battle with yourself. But, at least, you weren't human.

Compared to the man in front of you, he was like a fly. A gnat. And you'd toy with him for a bit if he could keep making you feel this way.

Calm.

The crimson waters in your veins were quiet -for the first time in sooo long- and all you had to do was look into his eyes. They were hooded in the darkness of the night but you felt it, his soul staring back at you. You often wondered if you had a soul.

Probably, everything else seemed to have one.

Perhaps, not everything about being human was terrible. It beat the hell out of the internal anguish, always fighting with yourself, always angry. And suddenly you never wanted Dean to leave. Even if your father did warn you about him.

Maybe humans were powerful after all. Maybe, it was just this one human.

You grabbed his wrist above his watch -his fist still clutching your collar- and exhaled over his lips, only an inch away from yours. His breathing turned sharp too and you smelt whiskey on his breath. Peach whiskey. You gave him a cheeky smile.

That was a chick's drink.

"Why are you looking for Claire?" He repeated, his eyes somehow darker in the shadow of the night.

"She's my friend," you lied, continuing to pretend he had you right where he wanted you.

It was really the other way around.

"You're friends?"

You nodded, "Yeah, some people have those."

You kind of wished Castiel had told Dean about you. It wouldn't come as such a surprise then. Maybe you could hide it, though, and tag along to find your sister. It could be fun to watch the brothers in action. Plus, everything was so quiet around him. Even in his intensity and you didn't want it to stop.

"Claire doesn't have friends." He stated.

"She has at least one."

He didn't need to know that you were kind of related to Claire, just that you didn't mean her any harm. Most of the time. Sometimes she pissed you off and sometimes you pissed her off.

"Wait, friend as in 'friend'?" He said as if he used air quotes but he didn't let go of your shirt collar to actually make them.

What the hell else did 'friend' mean? -Ohhhh... good for Claire. But gross, she was your sister. You had flashbacks to reading fanfics of Sam-slash-Dean online. Your father told you to stay away, but you were curious and although it may not have proven for the most serious intel on the boys, the stories were captivating. 

You scrunched up your face and stared at him. You couldn't tell him you were sisters. So, you just shook your head.

Dean laughed, "Huh, didn't know that kid could stop pissing people off for a second long enough to make a friend."

You nodded but frowned when he released your shirt collar and took away his hand. If you had wanted him to back off, you would've made him. You kept a hold of his wrist.

"Let go, little devil."

If only he knew how ironic that nickname was. You were the daughter of a demon not Lucifer but, same diff; it was close enough.

You let him go. You didn't want to, but you did.

"Do you know where she is?" You asked, both wanting to keep the conversation going and needing the answer.

"Nope. Was hoping you did."

"The bartender knows something." You mumbled.

You breathed a heavy breath, letting the anger from before defuse a little as it tried to resurface. No losing control this time. Your parents weren't here to help you this time. No cleaning up any messes. You were on your own. Like you wanted.

"Let's go talk to him, then." Dean grinned and patted your shoulder.

His hand slid down to the small of your back as he led you back around to the entrance of the bar. Every ounce of anger flushed away with his touch and you no longer felt that inch of demon blood in your veins.

_____

Dean wiped the blood from his knuckles with a rag from the trunk of a shiny black muscle car parked in the lot. You stood next to him and watched stoically as he did so. He glanced up at you and mistook your awe for fear.

"I'm sorry. I should've warned you when someone messes with my family, I get-" He started in a soft voice but cut himself off before he could finish. "Just sometimes, things get... messy."

Messy?! He beat the ever-loving hell out of that bartender when the guy hit on you again and evaded all your questions... Until he didn't.

Dean was just as fucked up as you were. He was angry and at war with himself, constantly, you could see it. You saw that look in the mirror all the time. He took the bloodiest route to being good. He was all shades of grey, just like you. And you had to admire how much he cared about the people he thought of as family.

"Don't ever let a man disrespect you like that." He locked eyes with you.

Something different in his gaze this time. Warmer and intense. Too intense, you had to look away.

You never did let guys get away with it, but you couldn't exactly go all super-girl on the bartender's ass either with Dean watching, now could you? Super-girl was a hero, though... You weren't the villain but you weren't the heroine either. Maybe an anti-hero, actually? Like Ben Solo? You could live with that.

"So, what now?" You asked, sitting on the edge of the open trunk next to him. "We go to this Haden-guy's cabin in the woods? Sounds like a trap."

The bartender said Claire had her eye on some regular guy all night but never talked to him. Though, she did leave right after he did. That was the only lead we had since this shit-hole had no working security cameras.

"Exactly, that's why we're gonna get Sammy first." He said, tossing the bloody rag into the trunk and securing the hidden hatch shut after pulling out a case of silver bullets.

Sammy, his little brother, you knew as much about the boys as every other demon or angel. You just didn't know how being around Dean would affect you.

"Where's Sam?"

Dean gave you a half smirk and a little shrug of his shoulders, then he winked at you. And what the hell did that mean?

Oh wait, you suddenly remembered seeing a walking L'oreal-ad-of-a-man, matching Sam's description, flirting with the waitress before stomping out to the back alley to have your little temper tantrum like a child. You blew off steam though without hurting anyone so you weren't embarrassed. That was a win in your book.

"I'll go get him, you wait here." Dean said, cocking his freshly loaded gun with silver bullets and tucking it into the back of his jeans. "Don't disappear on me, little devil."

You smiled, actually starting to like that nickname as you watched him walk towards the motel across the parking lot. He knocked on room number sixteen and waited a long moment before he pounded harder on it.

You stretched out your legs and pushed up from the edge of the trunk but something kept your ass in place. Like you were frozen, sort of, you could only move further into the trunk.

Something was wrong.

You glanced back quickly before Dean could notice you struggling to stand up like an ordinary human. You twisted in your seat but there was nothing unusual in the trunk, then you looked up at the lid.

Fucking hell.

There was a demon trap on the upside of the trunk lid. You glanced back at Dean who was now striding back towards you on bowed legs.

Shit. You twisted your arm above you and scratched at the edge of the trap. Glad that the front of the car was facing Dean instead of the back. 

"He'll be out in a minute," Dean said, rounding the back of the Impala just as you snapped up from your seat and slammed the lid shut. He narrowed his eyes on you, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, peachy." You dusted off the back of your black skinny jeans ungracefully.

"O-kay," he stared at you for a moment as you shifted from heel to heel, "Get in the car."

You walked around to his side of the car, knowing Sam probably had dibs on the passenger seat and opened the rear door. You hesitated and looked inside, checking for more demon traps.

"Something wrong?" Dean asked and you noted Sam exiting the motel room, he walked towards you as he buttoned up his blue flannel and straightened his jeans. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"Hardly," you said unconvincingly and crawled into the backseat when you didn't see any reason not to.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, Baby here is stocked up like a tank, we can take whatever's waiting for us. Trust me."

He was cocky, wasn't he, but it made you laugh. He had even more artillery than he thought, with you around.

Dean shut the door behind you and dumped himself into the driver's seat, Sam joining only moments later.

"Uh, hi?" Sam said to you, half turned in his seat.

"Hi," you waved shyly.

He was a lot bigger in person. The top of his head nearly hit the roof and his hair was gorgeous and thick. You played with the ends of your hair, wishing you had less split ends. Maybe you should cut it. Also, what kind of all powerful nephalem still gets split ends?! Talk about unfair.

"She's a friend of Claire's." Dean said, revving up the engine and peeling off down the road.

You didn't know how he knew where he was going. You didn't look at any maps with him. Maybe they'd been here longer than you and already surveyed the area? Claire probably called them too, you didn't have a cell phone and relied on her praying to you when she needed you. She didn't always trust you'd show up and she wouldn't have told them about you.

"Does 'the friend of Claire's' have a name?"

Sam asked his brother and side eyed you.

"Yeah, of course she does."

"And?" Sam inquired.

Dean hesitated and chewed his lip as he glanced at you in the rearview mirror. He never asked. "What's your name, little devil?"

Sam screwed up his face and mouthed 'little devil' dubiously to himself. You guessed it wasn't a typical nickname he gave women.

"Y/N."

You didn't give a last name. You supposed you didn't really have one. Castiel and Meg could never settle on one long enough.

"Y/N," Dean repeated in his deep voice. It felt like wings in your stomach to hear him say your name. "You don't look like a Y/N."

"Well, it's the only name I got." You snapped, a little hurt. You liked your name, it was the only thing your parents ever truly agreed on.

Dean chuckled and glanced back in the mirror again. "You’re cute when you're frustrated, Y/N."

The dork was teasing you. He either thought he was funny or flirting, you couldn't tell which. Maybe both, you didn't like it. It was new territory for you. You didn't often bother with humans, but Dean was different. He was a lot like you in many ways and he was -mostly- adorable. When he wasn't intentionally trying to be annoying. 

You blushed -first time that ever happened- and kept quiet for the rest of the drive. Dean explained to Sam what you were about to walk in on and they already seemed to know it was werewolves so you didn't bother to pipe up.

The woods were dark and the sound of wind eerily howled through the treetops. You'd have shivered if you were scared at all but you couldn't be harmed, not really. Someone would really have to get the drop on you for that to happen. And what else was there to be scared of?

You only worried about Dean. It was nice having him around. You realized now why your father liked him so much. You didn't know Sam all that well, though and he kept giving you ‘off’ glances as if he was trying to figure you out. As if he knew you were hiding something.

Barbie doll was too smart for his own good.

"Here, take this?" Dean said, shoving a silver gun in your hands after he'd parked down the road from Haden's cabin.

"Uh-" you held it between your forefinger and thumb, as if you really didn't want to hold it. You never used a gun before. You never had to and you rather not. "I'm good, thanks."

You tried to hand it back to him before it went off. As if it was that touchy. He just stared at you confused.

"You need something to defend yourself. You have done this before, right? Hunting? You're a hunter?"

"Yeah, totally!" You over sold it.

Sure, you hunted before, but you used your powers and let’s face it, nothing was ever a challenge. Even a pack of werewolves couldn't take you. You could fight and hold your own but you never needed a gun.

But how could you tell Dean that?

You stared at the gun, still holding it in the air between you and he sighed, "Here, hold it like this."

Dean stalked behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You felt his chest on your back and you leaned back into him. Looking over your shoulder at his face next to yours. He let out a single puff of air, amused, and turned your head forward again with his hand on your chin.

His scruff brushed your cheek as he lined up the gun in both of your hands in front of you. You smelt sweet peaches on his breath again and melted in his arms as much as you could without him really noticing.

"Finger off the trigger. This hand-" he grabbed your non-dominant hand and wrapped it around the other already gripping the gun, "-goes here. Keep your thumb there." He pointed to the switch next to your thumb, "Safety's on," he switched it off, revealing a red dot in its place, "Off. Line up this point with this one." He pointed out the sights of the gun. "Never point it at anyone you don't plan on shooting. Got it?" 

"Got it," you breathed. 

Dean switched the safety back on and let you get used to the feel of it in your hands. You could use this hunk of metal one time, you guessed. 

If a human could then why not? You were superior in every way. Super-powered anti-hero in human disguise to the rescue! 

It was quiet outside in the woods as you inched towards the cabin. And before you knew it, you were inside searching for signs of Claire when you heard the boys bashing around in the other room. Grunting and smashing into things. Glass breaking and shots firing.

You had split up and with no sign of Claire you made your way back to them to help out. Finding Dean pinned by three werewolves while Sam fought off one with another on his back trying desperately to bite his neck.

The pack was bigger than the boys anticipated. And brawling. 

You didn't expect aiming the gun to be so difficult and after missing the first couple shots -hitting the drywall in front of Sam and scaring the shit out of him, which he showed with a glare in your direction and a shout of 'Stop helping!'- you aimed again. At the werewolf on Sam's back and shut your eyes.

You squeezed the trigger fast three times then listened as a body fell to the floor.

Thump.

You grit your teeth together, hoping and praying and peeled open your eyes.

Sam was still standing. Thank granddad. Dean would've hated you for friendly fire. You aimed at the werewolves standing over Dean next and emptied the rest of the clip into them. 

They fell to the floor and Dean fought off the last one as Sam finished off the other. 

Then things were silent again. 

"Holy shit! Good shootin', little devil." Dean laughed and fell against the wall to catch his breath. 

Sam just clenched his jaw and glared at you. 

What was his problem? Did he know you closed your eyes? You aimed better that way anyways. 

"Where's Claire?" Sam grunted and rubbed his neck where the werewolf had tried to bite him. But his hand was covered in blood, "Dammit."

"What?" Dean asked, standing tall and glancing at Sam's hand. "You're bit?... Sammy?!" 

Dean's hands were in his hair and he spun around on his heel in disbelief. Then stalked over to his brother and pulled aside Sam's shirt collar.

"No. Fuck, no!" Dean shouted and punched the wall next to them. 

Then he threw the only lamp left standing across the room. It shattered in his fit of rage and he pulled down the bookcase for good measure. 

You set down your gun and padded over to Sam. Sam, eyeing you the whole time with zero trust in his stare. You popped up on your tiptoes and pulled him down by his shoulders to whisper in his ear. 

"Close your eyes." 

Sam furrowed his brow while Dean was busy hyperventilating in the corner. Rubbing his hands all over his face and scrolling through contacts on his phone, probably trying to find some non-existent cure.

But Sam was bit and Sam would turn if you didn't do anything.

"Trust me for one minute. What do you have to lose?" You whispered again and Sam let his eyes fall shut.

You placed your palm over the bite and channelled your energy into healing him. A blue light pulsed from your hand and Sam hissed. It probably stung like a bitch. But it beat turning into a werewolf and having to munch on cow hearts just to survive.

You wiped away the blood from his neck with your sleeve, inspecting your work. The skin was perfectly smooth like the wolf's fangs never punctured through.

You smiled, finally something went the way you planned. Doing good felt good, when it went right.

"How do you feel?" You asked just to make sure.

"Better, I guess." Sam's eyes fluttered open and met yours. His gaze of hazel softer than before, though still hesitant. "Thank you, I think."

"No biggie. Just a little spell I picked up over the years." You shrugged. You didn't think the boys noticed the lie.

Them thinking you dabbled in witchcraft was probably safer than them knowing the truth. At least for now.

Dean stood up, hanging up his phone mid-ring and walking over to Sam to check out his no longer existent wound. He glanced at you and you noticed his itchy trigger finger at his side.

"You're a witch?" Dean accused as if you kicked his puppy.

"No."

"Bullshit! That wasn't elementary magic, Y/N!" He shouted but still didn't raise his gun.

"Dean, calm down, man. She saved my life." Sam said, stepping partially in front of you. "Just this once, don't freak out how you always do."

Huh, save his life once and the big guy's already on your side. A turn of events you didn't see coming. Maybe there was more to him than just barbie doll hair and fault-finding glares. He knew you were hiding the truth but he didn't seem to care anymore.

"Shut it, Sam." Dean gave his brother a sideways look. "You know how I feel about witches. Blood sacrifices, hex bags and bones everywhere. There's always a price with them."

He gestured towards you and you scowled back at him. Not only a little hurt because you just said you weren't a witch but also because... didn't he feel what was between you, too? Or was it all one sided?

Maybe you should've let Sam die. He'd still think you were human then. You could've hidden that part of you forever. Or, at least, until he started to notice you weren't aging.

But, no, Sam was cool. You were glad you saved him. Maybe you could erase Dean's memory of the past five minutes. You never tried that before but it should be possible, right?

"'M not a witch," you mumbled and watched your boots. "I'm not bad, I want to be good."

That was true. It was the most honest you'd been with a human or anyone ever and you really wanted Dean to like you. Maybe this was the way to go. With honesty.

"I could've hurt you. I could've killed you both." You glanced up and met Sam's hazel eyes then Dean's green ones. "And I wouldn't need the gun to do it."

It was a bit of a threat, but an honest one. And they both seemed to get the weight of your words when neither one of them looked away. They looked anxious like they didn't want to be caught off guard by your next move.

"I'm on your side as long as you're on mine-" you cut yourself off thinking you heard something.

There it was again. Like a banging in the distance. Did they hear it too? You furrowed your brow when you noticed Dean was speaking.

"What do you-"

"Shh," you cut him off and titled your head towards the noise to hear better.

Dean took a couple steps towards you. A glint in his eye.

"Did you just shush me, little dev-"

"Shhhhhh!" You shushed, pressing your palm over his mouth and listening intently.

Dean raised his eyebrows and you felt a smirk tug at his lips, which he clearly failed to hide and Sam huffed out a laugh at the scene.

"Do you guys hear that?" You asked but didn't remove your hand from Dean's mouth so he just shook his head.

"What is it?" Sam inquired.

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something muffled. You flattened your hand over his mouth more and he groaned but didn't move away. He looked silently amused. Maybe, even... turned on?

"Claire," you said and the boys' eyes widened.

You walked away from them, towards the back of the house and then outside. Sam followed first, nearly tripping over your heels as you led him towards a shed at the edge of the property. Where the banging got louder to the point where you knew they could hear it too.

Dean came up from behind, all man-on-a-mission like, and pushed you both aside. He tried the door knob and when it didn't budge he proceeded to throw his body against the door. But it was sturdy as hell and he was only human.

You put your hand on his shoulder to stop him. Dean puffed hard and gave you a questioning look.

You punched out the deadbolt and twisted the knob until it gave way and the door slowly pushed open.

You smiled up at him and held out your hand as if to say, after him.

Let him go first. Let him feel useful.

He puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders. Silly, little human... but cute, silly, little human.

Dean took the opportunity and entered first, gun drawn. Sam next. Then you padded in afterwards, seeing Claire tied to a chair that was bolted to the ground.

Her wrists were bloody and raw and her nose looked busted. You scrunched up your face, hating seeing her hurt like that and waited for Dean to first untie her before you made your way over to her. 

Claire ripped the duct tape from her mouth, "About time you showed up," she snapped at you. 

"You were supposed to wait for me." You growled back, already feeling that anger bubble up within again. "Ungrateful, little-"

"Thank you." 

She must've seen the surprise on your face and started laughing. 

"It's way too easy to bust your balls, Y/N, lighten up a little, would you?" She smiled and you saw the blood dripping from her nose and staining her teeth. "I'm starving. Got anything to eat?"

Sisters are a pain in the ass. You didn't care if you were supposed to love her. She was beyond difficult and she knew it. But, you did still love her.

You touched her forehead, fingertips humming and glowing blue for a moment as you healed her. You didn't care if the boys saw, they already knew something was up.

And after everything, you wouldn't be so easily dismissed if they decided you were a threat. Dean was yours -you decided- but you wouldn't force him even if you could make his life a living hell if he didn't want to be a part of yours. You needed him to keep those parts of you quiet and he was damaged, too. He could use you, too. You could help him; help each other. You could try. But would he let you? If not, maybe you could be satisfied with just checking up on him from time to time. 

You hesitated a glance up at Dean, expecting contempt in his eyes. You should probably leave, take the memory of the way he calmed you and use that as an anchor, don't sully it with the look he'd give you now. Or when he found out what you were -who you were. But you couldn't stop your eyes from finding his. And you couldn't decipher the look.

"I need a drink," Dean started, "and a burger." He looked at Claire, "I'm phoning Jody." Then back to you, "And we're gonna talk about this. All of it."

You nodded and waited for them to lead the way back to the Impala. You hung back with Claire.

"Do they know?" Claire whispered over to you.

You shook your head, feeling what could only be described as bubbles in your stomach. You decided it must be butterflies. You never had them before now.

What was Dean doing to you?

The more he looked at you the more you felt the way humans were supposed to feel. But you didn't think you were changing at all, not on a molecular level, anyways.

"Are you gonna tell them?" She asked.

You shrugged, you didn't want to talk about it, you didn't want to think about it. Claire didn't seem to understand and continued. As sisters do.

"Do you want me to talk to him? Maybe Castiel could-"

"No." You answered flatly.

Your mess, your problem. You didn't want your father cleaning things up for you again. Although, this time things were different, cleaner. You could keep it that way. You wouldn't hurt them and you wouldn't force them.

You wouldn't use your powers against them at all; you promised yourself.

"Cass?" Dean overheard and turned around to walk backwards. "You know Cass?"

Fucking Claire.

Don't lie. Don't lie. Don't lie... -Okay, little lie. Tiny little white lie. Teeny-weeny. 

"No-"

"-Yes." Claire answered at the same time as you.

Fucking sisters, you scowled to yourself.

"A little," you corrected yourself.

That wasn't a lie, was it?

"Mmm," Dean sighed and pointed. "No more lying, little devil."

"Oh, for the love of-" Claire exhaled way harder than necessary. She had less patience than you. You would've thought she was half demon. "He's her father!"

"Claire!" You growled.

Don't kill her. Don't kill her. Do not kill her!

You glared.

Inhale. Exhale.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, you didn't notice until you ran face first into his chest.

"Ouch," you grumbled and rubbed out the pain from your nose.

You were all powerful, sure, but you still felt pain. And your eyes watered.

"Your Cass' kid?" Dean grabbed your shoulders and really looked at you. "How?"

You didn't look much like your father. You had Y/H/C hair and raven eyes. If it weren't for the whites around your eyes you could pass as a demon even when you didn't lose control. That was the main reason everyone was always scared of you. You looked -you laughed at yourself- like a little devil.

You could act like an angel a hundred percent of the time and as soon as they found out you were part demon and nephalem, not nephilim, they'd only see that and scatter.

Bite the bullet. Come clean. But if Dean didn't like you as a witch then-

"Remember Cass had that demon girlfriend?" Claire continued, as always, not minding her own damn business.

"Meg?" Sam asked, he'd stopped too.

The fucking car was right there. Thirty feet away! So close, yet might as well be an ocean away.

"So, you're a nephalem?" Sam asked again.

Did this guy live in a monster library?! Seriously, didn't he know someone with such great hair shouldn't be a total nerd, too. Like give the less L'oreal-inclined a chance, for crying out loud.

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't deny it and you refused to defend yourself to measly humans who'd probably still judge you by your eyes despite anything you said.

So, you nodded. And you realized Dean was still clutching your shoulders, a little tighter now that you noticed.

"Cass and Meg?" Dean said aloud like he was trying to process the information but his brain wouldn't let him.

You didn't dare move a muscle, not because you were scared but because you were scared of scaring them off. So, you just kept your eyes on his green orbs. Willing him to feel anything other than contempt for the demon blood inside you. 

How did puppy dog eyes go again? Castiel taught you it in case you ever came across the Winchester brothers. He said it would come in handy as opposed to using your powers. Not everything had to be taken by force. Not everything had to be a feat of strength. 'Sometimes honey works better than vinegar', he told you.

You ran down the checklist in your mind: (1) tilt your head down, (2) soften eyebrows, (3) look through your lashes, and (4) open your eyes just a fraction more -but not too much or you look surprised, not adorable. We want adorable. Oh! And (5) -this one was optional- pout your lips. This step was always a fail for you, though... you disregarded it and followed through with the rest.

Sam was soulless once and Dean still loved him. You had a soul, you thought, would he see it in your raven eyes?

Claire broke the silence, slicing through the thick air with her loud voice, "She has a temper sometimes, but she's never hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. Can you guys say the same about yourselves?" What was she doing? You knew they couldn't, that's one reason your father wanted you to stay away. "Because I can't."

"So you're part angel, part...?" Dean asked, his hand sliding over your cheek to brush at the skin under your eye.

Puppy dog look was working! That never happened before! You were giddy inside but kept the look, letting him explore the depths of your eyes, letting him see everything.

"Part demon."

"No human?"

"Not enough to count."

There was a fraction of you that was human. The equivalent to a 0.0001 percent on an ancestry test.

When you were a child you wanted to be human, you refused to use your powers even and asked your parents if you could go to school with the other kids. But you grew faster than them so you weren't allowed.

That's partially why it's taken so long to learn your powers, why you stayed with your parents until now and you still struggled with keeping control; because you kept them caged up for so long, like a wild animal and now they raged against you with any strong emotion. Pain, pleasure, fear, anger, anything in excess was a trigger.

"So, 'little devil', huh? You must've had fun with that one." Dean chuckled and you placed your hand over his still cupping your cheek.

His skin was warm on yours but, funny thing was, you never felt cold until you felt him.

"You have no idea." You smiled sweetly.

Again, not the daughter of the devil but demon was close enough. Lucifer was kind of your grandfather by creation, or your uncle? Both? You didn’t know, those things were hard to keep track of and you weren’t on speaking terms anyways. 

"Do you eat?" Dean asked.

You shrugged, "Sometimes."

"But you don't have to, do you?"

"No." You admitted and looked away. "I do love anything with cheese, though. Cheese is the greatest thing your kind ever invented... food wise."

"Really? Not chocolate?" Claire gaped.

"Umm," you thought about it, "it's a close second."

Dean laughed with a warm smile, "Let's get you something cheesy, then."

You beamed.

You honestly didn't expect Dean to react this way. You thought it probably had a lot to do with Castiel being your father. They seemed close, in the past. Or you were getting played, big time.

Let him try something if that's what he was up to. He couldn't hurt you and chances were if he could, he wouldn't know how tonight. They'd have to research since even you didn't know your weaknesses, there wasn't much lore on the matter. 

You wanted to trust Dean and it was kind of fun to play human while you were around them so you tagged along to the restaurant. 

Claire frowned and pouted as she ate her pasta forcefully. You thought she bit her fork once but kept going. There was sauce all over her chin. 

Dean had called Jody on the ride to the diner and Jody chewed her out over not waiting for backup. She deserved it, but it was a little harsh.

Claire saved a couple of kids from that shed before she got nabbed. It wasn't just that she let her guard down. She did good.

You didn't tell her that, though. It would only enable her and if anything happened to her you knew your father would be upset. She was a small human, not incapable but there was an advantage to being either powerful, like you, or big and strong like Dean and Sam.

"Earth to Y/N." Dean waved a hand in front of your face.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at his forearms, the sleeves of his flannel rolled up just enough for you to see his muscles move as he ate his cheeseburger. Sam had a salad, what the hell? Didn't a moose need more fuel?

"How's your poutine?"

"Pure cheesy goodness." You sighed and picked out another fry, twirling the melted cheese onto the end of it and sticking it between your lips.

You hummed at the taste. When Dean asked if you'd ever tried poutine and you said 'No', he completely flipped out and demanded you order it. There were no regrets but your mind was wandering with him sitting right in front of you. There was nowhere else to look and he was a masterpiece. 

Sam had his perks, too, his shoulders were massive and you never noticed things like that on humans before but you think you liked that. Big shoulders. Dean had them, too. Must run in the family. 

You sucked the gravy from your fingers and let out a slow breath with a little sigh. It sounded like a light moan.

"Y/N," Claire hissed and elbowed you and you saw her blush. "Can't you be normal? One time?"

You pouted -not really sure what the big deal was, it wasn't that loud- and picked up another fry. It's been a while since you ate anything, since you didn't really need to eat anything and it tasted really good.

You held up the fry, sticking out your tongue and sucking the melted cheese thread from the end of it into your mouth. You circled the tip of your tongue, collecting the thread until the fry met your lips and Claire jabbed you in the side again. 

You glared at her, muttered a 'What?!' and rolled your eyes. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Dean asked, his gaze heavy and his food left abandoned on his plate as he watched you.

"Mhm. Want some?" You offered innocently and sucked the gravy from your thumb.

"No. I'm having fun watching you, little devil. Keep going." He said and wet his bottom lip.

What did he just say?! You blushed. Hard.

You absolutely loved the butterflies he made come to life in your chest and stomach. Yeah, you were keeping him.

"Here. Just use this," Claire shoved the unused fork next to your plate at you. "And stop moaning, for fuck's sake."

"Sorry," you grabbed the fork and stuck it into a couple of fries. "Happy now?" You asked sarcastically, demonstrating the use of a fork by shovelling it into your mouth like Claire had done with her pasta.

You pouted to yourself, it tasted better with your fingers. That was weird, though, right? Next time you'd get it to go and eat alone in your motel room the way you wanted. 

You'd given up on being normal a long time ago. Weird was your forte. You were Castiel's daughter, after all, and Castiel was the king of weird. He made it cool. 

Your father brought you up to love yourself and Claire was just being Claire. Sometimes you got along and other times, you didn't. You thought having the boys here kind of put her on edge, too. Like she wanted them to approve of her and by extension, you. 

You had an inkling Dean approved of your eating methods, though. Maybe not Sam, even if he was all shades of red right now, and avoiding all eye contact, and he kept shifting in his seat like he was uncomfortable. It was funny. 

_____

Dean refused to stay at the motel near the dive you met him at -the closest motel in town- and instead drove for two hours to the next one. Which didn't look a whole lot better. It could only have, like, maybe half a star more than the last place. 

You had a room all to yourself, as did Claire and the boys shared a room with the two queen beds. In the morning they were set to drive Claire back home to Jody and the others. They wanted to make sure she actually got there and didn't run off again to do something stupid, as usual.

You didn't think it would matter, she would do whatever she wanted as soon as she got the chance. So, why delay the inevitable? As long as she called when she got in a jam and kept someone up to date on where and what she was hunting, you let her do her thing.

Even if the worst were to happen, you could always bring her back. You successfully resurrected a bird last summer. Castiel tried to explain balancing the universe or something but you didn't understand letting things suffer if you could give them a second chance. 

Like the bird who was minding his own business, pecking for worms in the grass in the rain when this plump house-cat came along and snatched him up. That bird probably had a nest to feed and that cat was just bored. You gave him a second chance. How could that be a bad thing?

That being said, you weren't about to take any strolls through the cemetery to awaken the dead. Even you had your limits. But you'd break the rules for the select few you truly cared about.

You sat on the edge of the bed in your motel room, flipping aimlessly through the five channels on TV. It was late, you were bored and you didn't sleep. You should've told Dean not to bother with a room for you but you didn't want to leave them just yet and he didn't ask.

Three quick knocks came at your door and you checked the digital clock on the bedside table.

Three-O-two A.M.

You shut off the TV -not wanting to watch the weather channel anymore, it was boring and repetitive, but you liked the tune they played in the background over and over- and walked towards the door. You undid the locks and opened the door.

You understood why people in horror movies were usually scared if something like this happened, but when you're nearly invincible, nothing like that really scares you anymore. Other things scared you, though, like if Dean left without you in the morning.

Sure, you could easily find him anywhere he went, but if he didn't want you around... that would be scary. Because, you really liked him and you drew the line at actually forcing yourself on him, even in a friendship.

But there he was, standing in your doorway and looking like he'd just woken up.

"Hey," he rasped, "Can I come in?"

"'Course," you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "Something the matter?"

"Uh," he brushed his bedhead back in an attempt to comb it and glanced around the room. His green eyes settling on your still-made-up bed. "You don't sleep?"

It was more of a statement but you answered anyway.

"Do angels or demons sleep?" You shrugged and he acknowledged with a nod. "Dean? Are you okay? You look frazzled."

He laughed at your term and hung his shoulders as if you saw right through him and he knew he couldn't hide it with you. He sighed and sat on the edge of your bed, head in his hands.

"I had a nightmare." He swallowed like he was waiting for you to laugh, but you didn't. "It's always the same fucking thing." He continued and you stayed silent, crawling into a spot next to him on the bed. He didn't look at you and exhaled again. "I'm back in that house and it's burning, but I can't find Sammy and my dad's... just -gone. I feel the heat on my skin and in my lungs and I can't breathe… and then, I wake up, and I still can't breathe.” He looked up, finally meeting your eyes. "I don't know why or how, but... I can take a breath around you." He lifted his shoulders and turned towards you. "I had to make sure you were still here."

"I am," you nodded and smiled softly, "Is that a good thing?"

He huffed out a laugh, "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I'm your inhaler."

"Damn, sweetheart, you really do take after Cass, don't you?" Dean smirked.

You were aware of how clueless your father was with pop culture references, it was something you were working on with him. You supposed you took after him a little, you always liked when people pointed out your similarities, even with your mother, too. Not all stuff demon was bad.

"Like father, like daughter." You shrugged. 

********************************************

When Dean wasn't paying attention -lost in your raven eyes- you hit him in the face with one of your pillows. His face blanched and you giggled and spun away from him. His arms wrapping around your waist before you could hop off the bed.

"Naughty, little devil." He growled in your ear.

You barely hit him! And squirmed against his hold, I'll bet, not hard. You were pretending to be human again. It was nice for a change letting someone else be all powerful. Especially someone like Dean who felt powerless. You could see it in his eyes when he was talking about his nightmare. 

Your back pressed to his chest and you felt his heart beat fast against yours. You liked being in his arms, you never felt so calm with your blood moving as fast as it did. Usually when your heart beat fast it was because you were angry. Demon blood -almost literally- boiling. 

This feeling was so far from that. Your whole body buzzed like it was electrified and tingles curled your toes. Then Dean's palm found the hem of your shirt and snaked up underneath it, laying flat on the skin of your stomach.

Dean groaned and shifted behind you, his bowed legs wrapping around your hips and his arms pulling you with him as he leaned back against the headboard. He breathed hard into your hair and kissed your ear. 

"If Cass knew what I was thinking about his little girl right now..."

"I feel it, too." 

You threaded your fingers through his as he clutched you to him. Dean's grip easing a little as you melted into him. You turned your head to meet him with a slow, soft kiss and then he dropped his forehead to yours. 

You breathed heavy and added, "But stop mentioning my father."

Dean barked out a laugh and turned rosy, "Last time. Promise." And he kissed you again. 

"This is kind of crazy." You panted between kisses, neither of you pushing for more just yet.

"Mmm," Dean agreed, continuing to attack your lips until they felt swollen against his. "Do you wanna stop?"

"Never." You giggled. "Don't stop. Please."

You turned and straddled his lap. Dean brushed the hair from your face as he stared into your eyes. Frozen and lost in their endless depths.

"Your eyes are incredible," he breathed and you shied away. "Don't look away. Look at me."

You exhaled nervously and chewed your lip as you pressed your forehead to his and met his gaze again.

Nobody ever looked at you like that.

His hands on your back roamed up and down, squeezing anything he could get a grip on. His fingertips indenting your skin under your shirt when he held you and shifted his hips down the bed, just enough so you sat in his lap like a puzzle piece, as he leaned his mouth into yours and captured yours lips.

"It feels like you were made for me." Dean groaned and his hands fell to your ass. "We just fit so perfectly together."

He pushed your hips down and his bulge pressed between your legs making you moan softly in his ear. You were both still very clothed but it felt nice to finally fit with someone. Like you knew where you belonged all along.

"I need you." You breathed into his ear, sucking his lobe between your teeth and nibbling. You felt him catch his breath and kissed down his neck. "It feels right with you. Don't leave me, ever."

You knew you were coming on strong but he had to already know what he was getting into. Cass' daughter and a nephalem, stronger than any other being on earth including Chuck. He had to know you weren't some one night thing. He certainly looked at you like you weren't.

"I don't plan to." Dean vowed, tugging the hem of your shirt up.

You let him strip it off of you and he went for your bra next. Covering yourself when he threw the wire beast to the floor. He met your eyes lovingly.

"Don't hide from me, little devil." He murmured and pulled your arms away from your chest. "You're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."

"You really know how to make a girl melt, don't you?" You laughed and hugged him, pressing his cheek to your chest. "Your turn."

You leaned back from him and tugged his shirt over his head. Trailing your fingertips over his anti-possession tattoo while he watched you with lust blown green eyes.

Dean threw you onto your back and climbed over you, ravaging your neck as heat throbbed between your legs. You moaned and felt him pull at your leggings. He tugged them down to your knees and you heard the zipper of his jeans follow.

You pushed the rest of your clothes off with your heels and Dean rid himself of his, then plastered his body back to yours. Feeling every inch of his skin pressed against yours.

He settled between your legs and his green eyes met your raven ones. A smile quirked his lips and he kissed down your chest as he hooked your knee with his arm, spreading you open.

His lips teased your nipple and you whimpered and threaded your fingers through his hair. Tugging when he teased the sensitive flesh with his teeth.

Dean grunted and kissed his way back to your lips. Trailing his moist breath over your skin and sending shivers through your body, down to your toes.

Fuck, he felt good. 

Your body was humming when he nudged between your legs, lining himself up and thrusting inside of you in a single push. You cried out and held his shoulders, feeling him breath deep and his muscles move slowly as he rocked into the apex of your thighs.

Pleasure quickly filled your veins and you latched your ankles around his lower back, keeping him pressed to you. Your breasts flattened against his chest and his thrusts grew faster and stronger as you tried to keep up, moving your hips in time to meet him.

Your hips bumped into his and you felt his tummy tighten against yours as he grew more desperate for you. His hand gripped your ass as he pressed himself more into you and your fingers tangled into his hair at the sensation, pulling the short strands and making him groan.

Fuck, he felt great!

Inside of you, on top of you. You felt grounded like you belonged exactly where you were. Like this was always meant to happen. Like you couldn't contain whatever was building between you. Like you were about to burst in the most unimaginably delightful way.

He grunted in your ear and the heat between your legs blossomed, your eyes rolling behind your lids as you shut your eyes and rode out your orgasm. Holding onto him for dear life.

He was a god among men.

Dean groaned louder, feeling you clench around him as he continued to push into you again and again. Pumping a few more times as he chased his own end and he started to come. He breathed heavy and loud in your ear, burying himself inside you with one final thrust and holding your hip with his hand as you felt warmth spill inside of you.

You didn't know if you could actually get pregnant by being with a human, your body was still flesh and bone to a certain extent, but at the moment you didn't care.

Dean fell onto you, pressing you into the mattress and you held him, tracing circles along his shoulders with your nails and kissing his cheek. He sighed, hot breath in your hair and on your neck and his lips found yours again. Kissing you deep and needy until the urge for air burned your lungs.

"Y/N..." Dean started and puffed against your lips, still trying to catch his breath. "I..."

"What?"

"It's never been that good."

But he shook his head and kissed you again. His kisses soft and pliant, easing as his heart fell back into a steady rhythm.

You did it again about a half hour later. And showered together as the sun rose, barely getting any sleep. Or Dean barely got any sleep. You were sure today would be one of the lucky days that Sam actually got to drive the Impala and you planned to spend the car ride holding Dean as he slept in the backseat. 

********************************************

After dropping Claire off with Jody -whom you got to meet and genuinely liked- you tagged along with the boys to a few other cases along their route back to Lebanon. More than one of those cases taking you way out of the way.

The detour was scenic and pleasant and you weren't in a rush for the road trip to end. You weren't entirely sure it ever ended for them. And you wanted to stick around for a while, find your sea legs and stand on your own, but with them by your side. With him.

The infatuation didn't end in that motel room and neither did the sex. But it was getting harder and harder to find time alone and you were ready for some time with just Dean, a bed and maybe some cheese -not in bed but maybe between romps in it.

The Impala -or Baby, as Dean called her- rolled into Lebanon late in the afternoon and up to a red brick building that looked like a warehouse. This must've been the bunker that your father often talked about. And when the car took the road around the back towards the secret entrance to the underground garage, there he was standing guard outside, just waiting.

Your father. He looked angry -his facial expression never actually changed, but you knew his cues after the years- and he held your eyes through the window of the Impala. Shit.

Castiel stood outside waiting for who knows how long. Trench coat blowing open in the breeze and his tie loosened a bit more than usual.

You might've sent him to voicemail more than a couple of times over the past weeks -after Dean insisted you get a phone to keep in touch- and when you listened to the messages, he wasn't all that thrilled about you hanging around with the boys, especially Dean. And especially since he knew how Dean was with women. You liked to think you were different together, though, it wasn't like you had much luck with serious relationships in the past either. So, you would figure it out together.

It wasn't your father's business but it was clear in his eyes when you stepped out of the car to meet him that he wasn't getting that.

"Cass-" Dean greeted as he climbed out of the car with you, a giant smile plastered on his face as he approached his friend.

Cass glared at him and touched his forehead. Dean instantly fell to the ground unconscious before you had a chance to catch him. Luckily it wasn't pavement so it wasn't a hard landing.

"Was that really necessary?" You snapped at your father.

Sam rushed to park the car and jumped out to check on Dean.

"Cass, what the hell?!" Sam growled, kneeling next to his brother and Cass touched his forehead next.

Sam fell over awkwardly on top of Dean and you thought maybe you should push him off but then your father spoke to you again.

"It's time for you to come home. You had your fun, Y/N." He said and stuck his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"I don't want to." You glowered. "You're pissed, I get it, but why are you taking it out on them?"

"Dean can't love you," Cass explained and his blue eyes flicked down to Dean's unconscious face, half hidden under Sam's arm. "He won't ever choose you over his family... over Sam. Me and your mother will choose you every time. Come home."

"I don't need him to choose me over his family, I want to be a part of their unit, I want to grow with them-"

"You can't grow with them, Y/N, you'll watch them grow old until the day they die. You could watch a million generations fly by before you even age a second."

"I don't care! I want him while I can have him! As long as he'll have me." You screamed and your chin trembled so you clenched your jaw tight.

"You'll care in ten years when he gets injured easier, twenty when he starts looking more like your father than your boyfriend-"

"Stop."

"And in thirty years, he'll probably be dead, hunters don't last long, Y/N, especially human ones." Your father vented almost like he wasn't just trying to convince you.

Cass and Dean were close, he wouldn't just let him die. He wouldn't just continue on without him. Dean would impact your father on a deep emotional level before his time came, he already did, you saw it as much as he tried to ignore it. Or not think about it.

"Please. Stop." Your voice was quiet now and Dean started to stir underneath Sam's limp body. "If he can't live forever, I want to be human, too."

You looked up at your father with tears in your eyes. You hardly ever cried and Cass steeled his jaw.

"I'll find a way," you promised yourself and wiped away a tear.

Your father's face fell, like he wasn't expecting that response and breathed out a long sigh, "Your mother isn't going to be happy about this." He shook his head and loosened his tie a little more. "But I'll help you, if you're sure. Because I love you."

Your father would do anything for you even if it broke his heart to do it. There were ways to get the best of both worlds, though. You never tried it but if an angel lost their grace, they turned human. You could siphon your grace and store it for the future, then you could grow old with him for as long as it lasted.

The only problem was the part of you that was demon. You didn't know how that would balance out if you lost your grace. But you'd find a way. 

You hugged your father when you saw his heart breaking and assured him that he wasn't losing you. And who knows, maybe you'd find a way to make Sam and Dean live forever instead, and then you wouldn't have to give up anything.

Dean groaned and pushed at Sam's arm, shifting out from under his little brother's heavy body.

"What the fuck, Cass?" He groaned as he checked on Sam and stood up. He saw you hugging and nodded like he understood, "Guess, I may have deserved that." 

"I'll be watching you," Cass said, squinting his steely blue eyes and pointing between them and Dean. A reference to a movie Dean probably made him watch. "She's my baby, Dean, treat her like she's your Baby." 

He nudged his head towards the Impala and you laughed as you skipped back over to Dean and into his arms. You held him tight around his waist and squeezed until you heard him huff in pain and curse.

You loosened your grip but didn't let him go. You have to squeeze adorable things, everyone knew that; Dean was tough, he could take it.

"Fuck. I don't want to be on either of your bad sides." He admitted and kissed your forehead. "You did good, Cass, she's beautiful... and strong as fuck. Shit, little devil, I think you just cracked my ribs."

Cass quirked an eyebrow at the endearment and you laughed at your father's face turning sour. Then Sam groaned from the ground behind you; which was a good thing, because Dean was going to need backup.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

[coraniaid]

🔥 Cassie Newton? Never hear much about her wondering your thoughts

I like Cassie a lot. (I hope that's not an unpopular take.)

I think I've written a bit on here before about how much I like Help. I'm not sure it's objectively quite the best Season 7 episode, but it's exactly the direction I think Season 7 should have committed more seriously to going in. We get all these fun nods and references back to previous episodes from the high school seasons -- Beauty and the Beasts and Reptile Boy and Prophecy Girl being the obvious ones -- only this time from a more adult perspective, with Buffy in the role that Giles or Joyce or Season 3's school counsellor Mr Platt or Season 1's supportive teacher Dr Gregory would have had. It would have been great to see more of the kids Buffy's trying to mentor down the line (I know we do see Amanda again), or to bring back Kit and Carlos from Lessons, but even in isolation Help stands up.

Cassie herself is very, very strongly coded as a proto-Buffy, from the way Buffy describes her as "special"to the circumstances of her parents divorce. The way she talks to Buffy on first meeting her echoes the way Buffy talked to Joyce about her own (lack of) future when she was trying to get out of facing the Master. The way she turns down her friend Mike's invitation to the Winter Formal mirrors the way Buffy turns down Xander when he asked her to go the Spring Fling. Her second speech to Buffy and Xander outside her dad's house ("You think I want this? You think I don't care?") calls to mind Becoming and Buffy being outed as a Slayer to her mom ("Do you think I chose to be like this?"). And of course there's the fact that when Buffy goes to Spike for help saving "a girl" who's in danger, Spike assumes she's talking about herself, and she has to correct him and explain that "It's not me, it's a different girl".

So, yeah, I like Cassie. I'm primed to like her, of course, but I think she's written well for a one-shot (sort of?) character and I think Azura Skye gives a good performance in the role. I'm not surprised that the writers had her come back when they needed somebody to play the role of The First Evil in Conversations With Dead People.

That being said, my hot take -- or at least a somewhat warmer than room temperature take, anyway -- is that Cassie is kind of misused in that second episode. I get that she is there because the writers couldn't get Amber Benson to come back and play Tara, but ... well. I actually went back to watch Help the other day, and it's noticeable that -- although she helps out a little with research -- Willow never even sees Cassie in person. She's the only one of the group who doesn't ("it's kind of weird because we never really met", as the episode has Cassie herself put it). So her appearing on behalf of Tara seems a little off in ways that I don't quite buy, even ignoring that she isn't really doing that.

There isn't any good in-universe reason given for the First not to be able to take Tara's form, or at least use the form of somebody dead Willow actually knew, so -- given that Amber Benson wasn't coming back -- I think probably they should have just dropped Willow's meeting the First on screen altogether. Have Halfrek appear to Anya instead, or have Jesse (or Larry!) come back to talk to Xander. Or, if you do decide you need the Willow scenes for the information it gives the audience about the First, pick ... well, Season 4's Veruca, maybe? Harmony? Somebody Willow had an actual connection with while they were alive. (I know none of those options are great either, if you want the First to try to pretend to be friendly at first, but you don't need to do that. ) Jenny Calendar would have worked, of course, but obviously that was even less likely to happen than Tara coming back.

No, Cassie should have appeared to Dawn instead. Cassie was Dawn's friend, after all, and Dawn was affected by her death more than anybody else we see. Cassie (as the First) could have been the one to tell Dawn that Buffy wouldn't "choose her", if that's the angle you really want to go with. (I know I am a big Joyce Summers defender, but I don't think Kristine Sutherland needed to be in this episode; and I think the fake-out that this might not be the First at all but instead be the 'real' Joyce somehow is needlessly confusing and doesn't add much to the show).

It's only barely tangentially related to your ask, but perhaps my real hot take here is that, while I do think Conversations... is a very good episode, I think it's good almost entirely because of the Buffy and Holden Webster scenes. Not only the Willow and Cassie parts but also the Dawn and Joyce scenes aren't really at the same level, in my view. Dawn and Cassie would have worked better.

[glowinggator]

How about Serafine reacting to the reader proposing to her?

I had a lot of fun with this one! Set of HC's, with a little drabble in-between 🖤 Thank you so much for the request!! 🖤

Pairing: Serafine Savoy/Reader (GN)

Content Warnings: Typical Serafine shenanigans, otherwise none!

Serafine Savoy has been described as many things. Hatchetman, bearcat, witch. But not once has she ever been described as a romantic. 

So if Serafine is with you in the first place… well, it ought to be taken as a point of pride.

Sure, she's had her flings in the past. Plenty of them. But not once has she been in anything long-term. No one's held her interest enough, and no one has ever been able to keep up with her. To even be in a relationship with her in the first place, you must have something special about you. Something that her Maitre Carrefour likes, too. If you've gotten this far, she's certainly a ride-or-die. 

But marriage? Marriage is a whole separate thing. 

She never had the chance to think about marriage as a child. The vague and distant memories of her parents didn't leave a good lasting impression on the concept, and she always found the concept of a ceremony to be, well… boring.

But when the idea of marriage comes up… she gives it thought. 

A lot of which are conflicting. 

She lives an extravagant life -- the closest she's ever been to "settling down" is during the congregation's parties. But that's how she likes it. The adrenaline is what keeps her going, that destructive devotion to the higher power that saved her life is what keeps the blood flowing through her veins. Rifle recoil, ringing ears, and bloody hands are just as important to her as food and water. She couldn't settle down even if she wanted to. 

So really, you can't blame her for wondering: Why? She couldn't be some white picket fence wife, could never give you that life. She can't settle down. And isn't that what marriage is supposed to be about? Settling down? 

But that's the thing: You don't ask her of that. 

You don't ask her to change, to move into some suburban house and leave her life behind. 

You want to marry her because you love her.

You love her. 

Dust and gunpowder settle in the air, heavy with the weight of the shootout just moments before. Serafine laughs, taking your hand as the two of you step through the carnage -- poor bastards couldn't tell the difference between a life and a pretty penny, and in the end it cost them both. You'd say it was a shame, but the adrenaline of a firefight has started to grow on you. 

You'll have to lodge a complaint with the Savoys someday. You can't say you're unhappy, though. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

You look forward at the woman leading you toward the door, admiring her black curls as they start to fall loose from her tight bun. And yet her suit is still unmarred, not a single rip or tear despite the flurry of bullets and claws that had been flying toward the two of you just moments before -- perpetually divine, you've always said. But then your eyes trail further, to your conjoined hands. Little specks of gunpowder dust her hands -- Boudreaux does pack quite a punch after all. 

"Hey, come here" you tug her back gently, squeezing her hand, "Mordecai will have a conniption if we track anything back." 

"Ah, mesye fastidieux," she smiles, "Maitre Carrefour must have chosen quite the path for him. Couldn't have survived a day in the bayou."

You chuckle to yourself, pulling your handkerchief from your pocket to wipe down her hands -- all too aware of the extra weight in your coat. Her hands are soft in your own, even after all these years. 

"Quite the path indeed." 

You look up from your task, catching Serafine's gaze -- Amber eyes already locked on you. Tender, even in the afterglow of such an adrenaline rush. You breathe, shakily, velvet box suddenly feeling like lead. No better time than now. 

"Our path seems rather clear, though." You squeeze her hands, tucking away the cloth before dropping to one knee. Your heart leaps as you watch her face process your actions, eyebrows raising and eyes widening. She stiffens for a moment, but squeezes your hands back. You take yet another shaky breath when she doesn't tell you to rise, and push forward. 

"He doesn't talk to me like he does to you, but I see the fork that he's placed before us. Serafine Savoy, I have no idea what I would do without you. I am changed, wholly and truly, for the better from meeting you. From loving you. Each moment apart is agony, only made bearable with the knowledge that it's only so long before I can return to you. And if you'll have me…" 

You pull the velvet box from your pocket, exposing the shiny gold ring. Her breath hitches, slackjawed for the briefest of moments before smiling. Her eyes crinkle, eyes half lidded as she gazes down at you. 

"...I'd like to dance on the crossroads for you for the rest of my life. Serafine Savoy… will you marry me?"

"Oh, cher," she coos, cupping your face, "You already have me." 

You hop the broom with the congregation at the Maribel in the morning, exchange your vows, and dance until the sky fades to black. But that's where tradition gives out, and your true selves start to shine through

Instead of walking down the aisle the two of you drive down the St. Louis strip, leaving torched cars and fire in your wake in place of rice and flowers. But your joy and laughter rings out all the same, and when the streetlights glint off of your conjoined hands -- stolen gold rings glimmering in the night -- she finds herself smiling brighter than ever before.