#He'll still be recognizable as himself if I were to do those things but would they be true to his actual look? Hmm

[sysig]

Wander-ful! (Patreon)

[toomanythoughts2]

Dethklok Agere HCs: Murderface Edition

🗡️🎸🖕🤬🪖👨‍🚒🍺🤮💩💢🏌️‍♂️🐯🌭🍨📱⚔️🛡️🏹⛓️🩸🚽🚬

After Toki, I wanted to do my second favorite member of Dethklok: Murderface! I see so much of myself in him and it's hard to not notice the signs. He means a lot to me, especially as someone who also grew up with their grandparents. I hope to do the rest of the band soon. So, this is my boy Murderface 🗡️!

Everything is below the Keep Reading tab.

(Murderface, you are so unwell and I just want to take care of you and show you that you are worthy of love and acceptance.)

🗡️ Ok, so, I think Murderface's regression range is higher than Toki's toddler head-space but not as old as Pickles, who I think is an older/pre-teen regressor. I would say he's around 5 to 8. He's old enough to be by himself and play but small enough to still need help occasionally.

🗡️ As I said before on Toki's post, I don't think Murderface's regression is easily as recognizable as regression. A lot of times, the band thinks he's just being his attention-seeking self. Murderface doesn't even recognize that he's regressing until he's done regressing and feeling weird about it.

🗡️ Murderface, I believe, has voluntary age regression, or Age Dreaming. However, I think his body recognizes that he needs to regress to decompress, so he'll naturally go do those things or behave that way to help regulate those emotions. It gets worse the angrier or more depressed he gets. It's like his body is consciously making him regress without Murderface having the word to know what he's doing. He can stop "regressing" when he wants to, and has the ability to not do it in the first place, but it's been his coping mechanism for so long, he doesn't know what else to do. Mind this, Murderface's regression isn't about just being a baby, I do believe his regression is tightly connected with his self-harm and child-hood trauma. For instance, his inability to care for his personal hygiene is a type of passive self-harm but his regression (tied to his childhood) makes it hard for him to change that habit. Where Toki uses his regression to protect himself, Murderface's regression keeps him trap in his childhood. It won't be until Murderface recognizes he is regressing and working on his mental health will he be able to use his regression to help himself. (I hope this makes sense.)

🗡️ I think he started regressing a lot earlier than people think but they were just unable to identify it at first. I think he began regressing as young as a middle schooler, but the regressing was so minute and so insignificant that no one ever caught it. Additionally, I think middle school is where Murderface first develops the majority of his mental health issues like depression and an eating disorder.

🗡️ It's not until Murderface is taking care of Toki when he regresses that he starts noticing the signs of his own regression. The band all have group mandatory meetings with Dr. Twinkletits about how to best care for Toki and how to spot the signs of his regression to minimize dangerous situations. Murderface is very quiet during those meetings after the realization.

🗡️ While Pickles or Nathan are usually the more knowledge in the topic now, as they are Toki's main CGs, it's Skwisgaar that notices Murderface showing signs of regression first while watching Toki play with Murderface in the living room. He's talks to the rest of the band before they decide to talk to Murderface about it.

🗡️ Of course he heavily denies the claim and refuses to hear anymore about it. But now that the band is aware, they all keep an eye on him just in case.

🗡️ This is a HC of mine that has been stuck forever, but I believe the first time Murderface fully lets himself regress in front of the others is at the beach. The idea is that Toki and Murderface run off together while the other three stay on the beach. Toki regresses and Murderface is stuck taking care of him but the longer he's with him, the calmer he gets. He wants to be like Toki too and just enjoy himself. So they spend the afternoon having fun and going in shops and walking the boardwalk. They come back and Toki collapses on Skwisgaar for a much needed nap. The band fully expects Murderface to sit in his own chair and do the same but he ends up just standing next to Pickles. Pickles has no idea what he's doing but he longer he stands there, the clearer the image appears. It isn't until Murderface asks if he can nap with Pickles do they all realize what is happening. It's a very delicate situation and no one is trying to mess with it, so Pickles says yes and lets Murderface nap with him on his chair. Nathan is busy texting Charles while Pickle holds Murderface. Toki is fast asleep and Skwisgaar is feeling proud of himself for being so observant.

🗡️ Once Murderface was identified as a regressor, a lot of past incidents began to make sense, including the disturbing ones.

🗡️ Murderface self-harms but that doesn't stop in his regression. If Murderface is feeling too little to SH "properly" (like cutting), he will hurt himself in ways that he can like banging his head against walls and hitting himself. He will bite himself and scratch at his skin. Nathan has taken to holding him against his chest to get him to stop.

🗡️ I like to think that Murderface's eating disorder, which I HC as binge eating, is also related to his childhood trauma thus connected to his regression. The combination of self-hatred, depression, and regression make it hard for Murderface to regulate his feelings about food, so he does what knows can "fix" that problem, which is eating. And the more upset he gets, the messier he gets. He uses his hands instead of silverware, he switches between plates before finishing one off, he lets the food and drink spill and stain him. I HC that Murderface grew up in poverty, so there was never enough food inside the house, so he was always hungry. He's confusing his depression with hunger, thinking that if he just eats, he'll feel better because he was always hungry when he was sad. But the older he got, the less this became true but the habit already formed. Regression happens while he's in the process of binge eating. He's slipping into a mindset where this has to make sense, even if it hurts him.

🗡️ Ok, enough of the sad, backstory HCS. Murderface has a hot wheels car track that he sets up in his room or the living room where he races his hot wheels. The others join in as well and it's a good time (as long as Murderface wins a majority of the time).

🗡️ Murderface's regression is not as "baby" as Toki's. A lot of it is very typical young boy interests like cars, trucks, war, and guns. He likes video games and stupid, crude humor like South Park.

🗡️ I don't see him using a lot of traditional regression supplies like bottles or clothes. He likes to remain as he his and doing what he's doing while regressed. Though, he does like to be in comfier clothes when he regresses, so he will change into sweats or worn shirts.

🗡️ Because Murderface is able to identify that he is choosing to regress in moments of stress, he's been able to make great work with Dr. Twinkletits about his mental health.

🗡️ The band is very supportive of him, much to his surprise. He didn't think they would be anything but begrudgingly helpful. But they are genuinely understanding.

🗡️ While I do not think Murderface needs or wants a caregiver like Toki, he does spend a lot of time near Nathan when he feels particularly small. He looks up to Nathan a lot, and wants to be around him.

🗡️ If Pickles notices that Murderface is feeling smaller than normal, he'll quietly switch a few things around to help him drop. He's gotten very good at body language (hand on the back, raking fingers through his hair) and communication (chosen phrases or names that solidify his regression, words of encouragement)

🗡️ Murderface has a lot of crying spells and tantrums that no one can make a lot of sense of, including Murderface. His tantrums aren't like Toki's, which resemble an actual toddlers tantrum. His tantrums look like his normal behavior, except they're followed by tears or a high level of nonsense. His biggest tell is if what he's yelling about isn't even close to the situation he's in. When he's small, he overthinks every little movement or word and worry's about what they mean. These thoughts happen so fast that it's hard for him to track just how he got to his tantrum in the first place.

🗡️ Murderface won't take bubble baths like Toki, but he is much more willing to bathe now that he understands his regression and his depression. He'll put on music while he showers and watch youtube videos on how to take care of his hair. He's still scared that if the band sees him trying they'll make fun of him, but he has to remind himself that this is for himself, not the others.

🗡️ Skwisgaar will often offer to brush through Murderface's hair before bed if he knows he's had a long day. Something about being taken cared of just relaxes Murderface and makes him feel small.

🗡️ Surprisingly, no one in the band is Murderface's favorite. It's actually Knubbler. (He's alive, shut up.)

🗡️ He's an IPad kid (Obviously) but its obnoxiously worse when he's regressed. Pickles as gotten really good at parent locking his IPad to certain hours so he won't use it while they're eating dinner or lunch. Murderface despises it but he also knows if it wasn't there, he would be playing car revving videos at 100% volume while eating.

🗡️ Skwisgaar is very attentive when he wants to be, so he's constantly gently doing things that make Murderface drop without necessarily meaning to, but Murderface never forces himself to stop the feeling. Toki needs a lot of support in his regression, so Skwisgaar naturally does those "Caregiver" things already. Like, cleaning dirty fingers after eating, moving hair out of his face while he's busy doing something, fixing blankets around shoulders, gently moving them int he right direction if he begins drifting away. Murderface doesn't encourage them but he never denies them.

🗡️ Toki adores it whenever any of the other band members are regressed because he feels like he can finally give back after having them all take care of him. He loves playing with Murderface with his cars or playing pretend. Problems happen when Toki accidently regresses in the middle of it.

🗡️ Murderface loves playing pretend war. He has his wake guns with the nerf bullets and the plastic hat. He hides under tables and behind doors and shoots whoever walks by. He's only ever gotten in serious trouble when he got Charles in the butt in his office when he was on a phone call.

🗡️ Speaking of trouble, Murderface does get into some trouble when he's small. The band does not discipline him like they would discipline Toki with a time out, but Nathan does scold him. He's the only one that gets to him when he's small and knows that he's serious.

🗡️ He wants a dog so bad but he's scared the guys won't let him. Skwisgaar and Toki will take him to the local animal shelter to play volunteer. It lets him get all his energy out with the dogs and play fight with the bigger dogs.

🗡️ He will NOT sit a chair correctly. Upside down or on his side ONLY! (Projection as I laid in arm chairs sideways during this age.)

🗡️ He loves He-Man and the Masters of the Universe, He-Man and She-Ra: The Secret of the Sword, TMNT, G.I.Joe, M.A.S.H., Ghost Buster The Animated Show, Thundercats, and Transformers. He's got good taste for older cartoons and shows. It's his biggest tell that he's small or trying to get small is if he's watching one of these shows. However, if he's watching Gilligan's Island or Walker: Texas Ranger, he's trying to get small and be sad. I HC that these are the shows his grandma and grandad would watch when he was a kid.

🗡️ As a child raising by her grandparents, I think Murderface's regression triggers are related to a lot of things that his grandparents did in the house. This could mean the good, the bad, and mundane things. The snapping of a belt, or an expired discontinued perfume, or the sound of an old TV clicker. But also, certain music.

🗡️ So, Murderface is canonically partially Native American (Thunderbolt) but I also adore him being part Hispanic/Latino (Stella being an Americanized version of Estella) Top that off with him being some southern, rural part of America, his music exposure is all over the place. Three types of music help him regress the most: Bluegrass, Hispanic (Salsa + Cumbia + Bachata), and Thrash. I HC that his grandfather played bluegrass before having his stroke and he played some type of string instrument such as lap steel guitar or a mandolin. The sound of it reminds him of sitting in church or his grandfather playing in his spare time around the house. Hispanic, specifically those genres, remind him of his grandmother's radio in the kitchen. She always had something playing while she cooked or cleaned or played dominos with the other older women of the town. On very rare moments, she would dance with Thunderbolt while smiling. It's some of the only calm times in the house. Thrash reminds him of being young and finding music that felt like him. It would remind him of car rides with uncles and staying over at old childhood friends houses and older male cousins that never let him in their rooms. Music helps him regress a lot, whether he wants it or not. (This is all projection btw. Grandfather played bluegrass with a guitar and my father listened to Thrash in the car with me.)

🗡️ He has a very hard time with food when he's small. He eats too much because of part of him is worried about the next time he'll ever get to eat again. Pickles has to constantly remind him that the food isn't going anywhere and if he's full, he can stop eating.

🗡️ Nathan humors Murderface more when he knows he's small. He'll listen more closely to him about song suggestions or his interests.

🗡️ Very rarely will he ask for help when he's small but it does happen. Things like needing help tying shoes or buttoning shirts he will need help in. He also needs help cutting food.

🗡️ He loves swimming. He probably had a lake, river, or pond near him growing up that he swam in. When he's small and it's hot, he wants to play in the pool. He wants to play sharks and minnows, Marco Polo, scavenger, races, and dunking games. He plays with Toki the most but can occasionally get them all involved. Charles usually watches over them all when they do all get in.

🗡️ Hates sunscreen and will run and hide before getting any on his skin.

🗡️ He info dumps big time. To a point where no one has any idea what he could possibly be talking about. He's a big history nerd, so it's a lot of war facts, early American facts, and other miscellaneous facts about cars and guns.

🗡️ Being regressed exposes a lot of his old childhood beliefs, but the biggest ones are the Appalachian superstitions he grew up believing. Charles had an upside down horseshoe places above every outside door for good luck. The klokateers can't wash clothes on Sundays. He refuses to leave a room out a different door than the door he came through. Some of them are funny though like an itchy ear meaning someone is talking about you. He once told that to Toki who immediately went to Skwisgaar to confront him for talking about him. (Skwisgaar was actually talk about him to Nathan but he won't admit it.)

🗡️ Strong physical contact is his best friend for calming down. Just like how adult Murderface likes Pickle's back rubs, regressed Murderface likes head rubs. Something about the pressure feels good and calms him. They use this to prevent any tantrums.

🗡️🎸🖕🤬🪖👨‍🚒🍺🤮💩💢🏌️‍♂️🐯🌭🍨📱⚔️🛡️🏹⛓️🩸🚽🚬

That's all I got for my boy! He is a bit of a challenge, but once I got into his boyish mind, I could really channel him better. I love him so much. Obvi, if you have any HCs of your own, tell me about them! OK, love you, bye! 👋

[the-kr8tor]

Hobat brown's got me going hard into my bat phase again PFFT I will always be a halloween fanatic Daily Hobie HC! Hobat brown time Obviously, Hobie can always turn into a bat. After all, what vampire can't? The somewhat cute, yet amusingly annoying thing however, is Hobie can decide what specie of bat he wants to be. Thankfully, he's usually content being the biggest type to still have the feeling of being tall..being a fruit bat. Of course, his little face is always still recognizable with those spiked accessories and piercings. And obviously, those mischievous, loving eyes that always seemed to soften whenever placed upon you. When Hobie had shapeshifted into a smaller bat specie, he'll always nestle into the crook of your neck, his little body covered by your hair as you go about. Whether you've been invited to hangout with friends, or just at the store buying groceries, he'll be a little fuzzy ball curled up at the side of your neck. If he wants your attention during these times, pray you don't have an earring on, because Hobie will manage to bite onto it and give it a little tug. Or he'll chitter endlessly until you acknowledge his presence. Depends on how Hobie feels like. Around the house, Hobie will most likely be his fruit bat form, if not vampiric. He'll cling onto the back of your shirt if you're doing something, his wings draping over your shoulders as his face is immediately buried into the back of your neck. The first few times he'd do this, Hobie genuinely thought it'd be something to tease you with, but now it's just something out of affection, seeing as you didn't have any negative reaction, and often acknowledged him with a gentle rub at his wings. Even when you've decided to take a little nap, as a bat, Hobie will drape himself on top of you like a small blanket, enjoying the close proximity and warmth. One thing Hobie will never pass up the opportunity to do though, is to lick you. Even when he's a microbat, he'll sometimes just start licking your neck. Not out of hunger, but just to hear you start giggling since Hobie's very aware how ticklish you were there. Although you aren't sure which form you find more cute- annoying. Annoying..you can't deny that you love it. Even as a vampire he will still nibble on your neck playfully when you allow him to. Hobie won't even be needing to feed, and just wanting to show you how much he loves to tease you. If he is feeding from you, he'll gladly tell you if you need more iron or not in your blood. Despite the fact he drinks your blood, he makes best for telling a pretty good blood test result. And not only will he tell you what you need based on your blood, but will wholeheartedly go out of his way to get you something that might help. Low iron? Strawberries, watermelon, raisins. Low magnesium levels? ROASTED CASHEWS. Hobie never does this with what he's getting from you when he buys this and gives you it to eat, but instead is rather thinking of how he can raise your levels so you don't suffer. Whenever he notices subtle changes in your blood, sometimes he won't tell you, and will nonchalantly just give you foods that will raise the lowered levels. You never knew why sometimes Hobie would just randomly give you a plate of washed and sliced strawberries after he drank from you, until you asked, to which he nonchalantly just pointed out that you were low on iron. One of his very major rules however is he'll never take your blood while your uterus is having a tantrum. Especially at that time of the month, he's perfectly satisfied with alternatives. Hobie wouldn't even dare putting his fangs near your neck, opting to just smothering you in kisses whenever you feel terrible. -🐦‍⬛

He is a cutiepie! I would love to hang out with him and terrorize some ppl lol

Daily Hobie HC ❤️

So adorable! I can imagine a tiny bat swinging around while he clings to my earrings 😍 imagine that he's so small that you've forgotten that he's perched on your shoulder and he suddenly licks your neck making you jump lmao

Hobie leans away from your neck, mouth covered in your blood: *smacks his lips* hmmm needs more iron (I'd side eye him fr)

😂 i can imagine that he has made the error of feeding on you while satan's waterfall is visiting you and you suddenly collapse and fall limp in his arms 😆 he has never been more afraid thinking that he has drained you 🤣🤣🤣 (poor vampire)

[excelsi-or]

summoned (pt. 7)

Hi everyone :D I'm determined to finish posting this story by the end of October. I'm in a transitionary period right now, so I have time to do this. Love yous. Hope you're all staying well xx Also, just in case some of you read your fics on AO3 more often (like I do), I'm also posting this one on AO3 (All my other stories are there as well.)

pairing: woozi x fem!reader/fem!OC

w.c. 1.8k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

"When you told me this morning your mother was a demon, you failed to mention she was the right-hand demon," Jihoon accuses.

She packs her book into her bag, as she gets up from the tree swing her father had put up after the first time she'd walked out of a conversation. She used it infrequently for the purposes of storming out on her parents, instead using it as a place to think.

Now, she shrugs. "If you haven't realized, there are a lot of things about my parents that I don't want to know about."

"I think we should speak with your father," Seokmin says. He can feel a fight brewing, and his brain is still struggling to catch up.

"I know." She glances at Jihoon, as they walk towards the car. "You might have to stay outside. Mom doesn't like angels, but Dad hates demons."

"How in the world did they even have the ability to fall in love with all these preconceived biases?" Seokmin wonders.

They climb back into the car, and she types her father's bookstore address into the GPS. The way Jihoon drives, it'll take a minute or two to get there. They could have walked, but Jihoon would have huffed the whole way and Seokmin tends to struggle keeping both feet on the ground.

Once they arrive at her father's corner bookstore, she tells Jihoon to stay put.

"I—"

"Do you really want to come in with me?" She's already halfway out of his car. "My dad will automatically assume we're dating."

Jihoon's brow furrows at this seemingly non-sequitur. "What?"

"No way I'm dating an angel." With a hand from Seokmin, she gets to her feet. "My parents are just as apprehensive about who I bring home as Hansol. So, please," she meets his eye to let her know she's serious, "stay here."

Seokmin trails after her and is surprised at how many books are crammed inside the corner store. Every perimeter wall is covered in books. More standalone bookshelves taper in towards the center of the room, where a skylight clearly highlights a man dressed in white linen. A man who must be her father. And is clearly in the middle of doing something.

"Dad?"

The man looks up and grins. "Your mother called me. She said you were bringing friends to see me." The smile on his face brightens further as he recognizes Seokmin. "An angel." He peers over their shoulder, looking for the reason why his partner pluralized the word 'friend'.

"The other friend is in the car," she says as way of explanation. "This is my dad, Tin. He'll forget to introduce himself." With a lazy wave of her hand, already walking off to wander her father's stacks, she says, "Seokmin wanted to talk to you."

The angels immediately hit the ground running, bypassing pleasantries and exchanging notes on human and angel interaction. Seokmin peppers Tin with questions about his meetings with Gabriel. 

She wanders the aisles, looking through the additions her father's acquired since the last time she'd visited. Regardless of where she is in the store, she can hear the conversation. So, she can hear Seokmin setting up a platform for his ultimate question. 

"Have you heard any chatter about a demon revolt?" Seokmin finally asks.

Her father goes silent. She peers around one of the bookshelves. Her father stares down at the top of the counter. It's a recognizable move for those that knew the angel: his thinking pose. His 'I'm considering making up excuses' pose.

"You've met Xero, so you know that she's a demon."

'Yes." Seokmin doesn't bother to add that simply calling Xero a demon brushes over the fact that she was a high-ranking demon before she and Tin had a child. And he has plenty of questions as to how Tin had managed that.

"For the sake of peace, we tend to leave the house or go to different floors when we have particular guests over."

"Like if Gabe came to visit you," Seokmin guesses.

Tin's daughter is actually surprised he's not omitting more.

Maybe her father knows she can hear them and is probably listening. Or maybe he doesn't lie to angels. She's never actually seen him interact with other angels, usually taking his business out of the house unlike her mother.

"Exactly. I tend to bring angels here," her father agrees. "But... I may have heard my wife mention something about bodies and possession. I didn't say anything, because I wasn't entirely sure. I know she's made her deals to be with me; we both have."

Seokmin nods his head. Both he and his friend are wondering if either angel or demon regretted the deals they'd made.

"I haven't mentioned it to Gabe, because frankly..." Her father looks around the store, and she ducks back behind the shelves out of view. "My daughter isn't going to live for millennia."

"You want to see her live to the end. Before the Final Day," Seokmin reasons.

"Exactly. If I were to tell any angel, other than you, that I had heard something?"

"Heaven would rain down."

"So, I didn't say anything."

"Well, we're working at trying to stop whatever it is the demons are doing."

Her father's voice quiets further. "It's not just the demons."

Her brow furrows at this. That's the first time she's heard anything of the like. But her father seems to think Seokmin doesn't know about it either.

"Haven't you noticed the increase in natural disasters? That coincide with the increase in human rights activism?" Tin prompts.

"Yes." Seokmin's already very full brain is trying to process this new piece of information. Luckily, it doesn't take more prompting or a hundred years for it to dawn on him. "Human rights activism cleanses peoples' souls, and the increase in natural disasters will wipe them out eventually when they can't shelter themselves enough."

"It's something that Gabe, Luke, and Michael mentioned to me a while back and we had discussed it. I said that maybe if we started slow, it'd be enough to keep the demons from noticing. And the humans from stirring up too much trouble to alert them."

She presses her forehead against the nearest shelf, trying her hardest not to just knock herself unconscious so she doesn't need to deal anymore.

"Obviously, natural disasters are natural because they're a reaction from climate change now. We've only just helped it along, but if humans are able to get a hold of climate change in time," Tin shrugs, "who knows?"

She knows her father's views on climate change. His usual song is: "Humans are idiots. Why aren't they doing anything about it it? Don't they have any self-preservation skills?"

Seokmin hums. "That's a fair, but currently unlikely, hope."

"As long as my daughter is alive, I'd rather that the Final Day was held off."

"Right."

Tin, seemingly satisfied with what he'd shared, calls out. "You can come out now, anghel."

She joins them and looks between Seokmin and her father. Then she kisses her father's cheek. "I'll come for dinner soon."

Her father hugs her to his side to kiss the top of her head. "Please. And bring your friends along. I miss Hansol and Seungkwan. I'll make them more puto."

She chuckles. Hansol's the only human she's ever brought home that her mom tolerates. But her father adored Seungkwan ever since he devoured all the puto last time with gusto and praise. "Yes, I'll let them know. Love you. Remind Mom for me."

Jihoon has his eyes closed when they return to the car. "So?"

"We have more problems than I thought," Seokmin announces once he's slammed the door behind him.

Jihoon looks over his shoulder, a disapproving look on his face.

Seokmin rolls his eyes. "The car? Seriously? This world could be ending and that's what you care about?"

"What do you mean?"

Seokmin explains the conversation with Tin. And Jihoon sighs loudly in response.

When he looks over at the human, she's staring out the window, no comments. Jihoon's brow furrows, and he exchanges looks with Seokmin. The angel only shrugs in response.

"I gotta get to work," Seokmin says. "You can drop me off there."

Once they're alone in the car after dropping Seokmin off, Jihoon states, "You're being quiet."

"Hmm?" She hadn't said anything the entire way to Seokmin's work. "Uh, yeah."

"For someone with demon blood, you're not a good liar."

This gets a small smile, and then she turns back out the window. "Mm."

"Nothing? Something must be wrong." With that, he lets the conversation go.

Instead, Jihoon starts coming up with a list of things he needs to do to move this sudden project forward. But the actual methodology of how to stop what's happening is not coming to him. He does know the first step on his list is to go to the hospital and see what's going on. Jihoon didn't get the name of the hospital from Xero, but he did see a list of phone numbers of places located on the human's fridge. 

It must be there. 

The human seems responsible enough for that.

They walk through her apartment door in continuous silence. Immediately, she sits at her drawing desk. Jihoon recognizes the sound of pencil on paper and figures the human won't talk until she's ready.

So, he checks the fridge. Sure enough, the hospital name is listed as the last contact. 

Jihoon picks her phone up off her desk and tries to open it. When it doesn't, Jihoon hands the phone to her. "Open."

She does so without thinking.

Jihoon doesn't bother searching for a map, as he knows this little device has one. He wills the app to the forefront of the screen and opens it. It takes him a little while to type in the name of the hospital, but he gets there in the end.

The demon is about to ask her address but accidentally zooms out. It takes him another few attempts to figure out how he did it, but once he does, he zooms out to see a little blue blip.

Your location.

According to the app, it takes about an hour to get to the hospital.

The human is hunched over the desk. The sound of her pencil scratching along paper is furious. He's surprised she's not tearing through the paper. 

Curious, Jihoon peeks over her shoulder. He lifts an eyebrow. There are sketches of faces and buildings, mixes between angels and demons. He recognizes Linnaeus. He even recognizes Gabriel, the one angel that comes to visit Hell every so often.

Jihoon backs away, deciding to leave her to it. He can't really leave without her anyway. So, the demon plucks a young adult romance shelf that he hasn't read yet and stretches himself out on the couch to wait.

part 8

[the-home-of-innovation]

Wilbur stood outside the small gas station in the middle of nowhere as he looked out into the vast desert. It was cloudy today, he took it upon himself to seek out shapes within the blue skyline, it was a good enough distraction for his current break he thought.

As he reached into his pant pocket to fish out a cig and lighter he felt something else, something flat and metal with dulled edges. Now, he already knew very well what this object was, he simply chose to ignore its existence whenever possible. He decided to humor it and pull it out to examine what state it'd been left in.

The gold coin was a bit scratched and lacked the shine it used to posses, but it was still distinctly recognizable. A Schlattcoin, the very first one ever produced, and it belonged to Wilbur.

He'd been so proud to own it, back when times were different and he was blinded by his adoration for the man that had created it, he shook his head at the thought. Now wasn't the time to reminisce, he came here to start anew, clean the slate, not remember him of all things.

Without thinking, he buffed the coin against his shirt and put it back in the pocket it came from, that's quite enough of that thank you.

A glance at his watch revealed that his break was nearly over, he hadn't even smoked like he'd intended God damnit, guess he'll just have to do so inside, not like there was anyone around to notice, let alone care.

Back to his post he goes, opening the door and feeling a sudden flash of cold go right through him, weird. Usually he'd chalk something like that up to the AC inside the store but that thing's been busted for many a decade. Best not to dwell, he supposed.

Wilbur decided to fill out his time by restocking all the various chocolate bars at the front counter, it was sort of relaxing once you got into the groove. He started thinking about what he was gonna have for dinner-

"Hey ya got any protein bars in there-"

The box that Wilbur was holding fell unceremoniously to the ground, scattering snickers and almond joys and MnM packets all over the linoleum floor.

"Damn, better pick those up before your manager or whatever sees."

Wilbur did not move. He didn't even look up. Because he already knew the voice that was speaking to him, he knew it all too well. But he also knew that it was impossible. Maybe if he ignored it it would go away"

"Are you deaf or somethin? I know being rebellious and shit's been your thing over the last few years but come on man."

Wilbur finally looked up.

"What are you doing here Schlatt."

It wasn't phrased like a question, more like a demand.

In front of him stood a spectre in the shape of someone he once knew, glowing blue and and fully translucent.

"Sure wish I knew, honest to God, but your guess is as good as mine, pal."

[spotlightstudios]

Woah, Them. ♡

It's just the Subway Bosses and their weird nephew that happens to be a pokemon.

Finally getting around to context for this lil Oc based au:

Mark was a kid who died at a young age due to an accident. This being Unova, he came back as a Yamask, and he stumbled across one of those kid-sized mannequins. Promptly possessed it and wandered about, dodging the local authorities and doing his best to just be a kid still.

Then he got into the subway somehow. His possessed body was in bad shape, and he ended up getting found by the subway twins as they were closing up. Obviously they called the proper authorities, but they got wind that Mark was a pokemon, and offered him to stay with them.

They "adopted" Mark as though he was a normal human kid and with a little more effort put into his disguise, they worked it out so he was a regular kid. (Regular as he could be raised by Emmet and Ingo anyways-) He was mute and always wore his mask, leading people to assume he'd just had a bad accident growing up so he had a lil trauma.

Fast forward, Mark's actually growing up pretty decently by human standards, and there's a big ol accident. Mark started working at the Depot with his Uncles, and it'd been a few months. He was recognizable as all get out thanks to his new uniform and his mask, and all his other quirks. Someone was screaming by the platform as a train was due to pull in that their kid had gotten onto the tracks. Ingo and Emmet had tried to keep the people on the edge calm and were going to find a way to get the kid when Mark just rushed off the tracks and chuckled the kid back up to his Uncles at the last second.

His fake body was smashed to pieces by the oncoming train, and Ingo and Emmet had to shut down the station and re-route all the trains. Even though they knew Nark probably wasn't dead-dead, the public had just witnessed the boy supposedly get hit by the subway train, so they couldn't exactly continue servicing the tracks. Later on, after everything happened, they couldn't find Mark as a Yamask, and found his mask had been split in half during the impact.

It took like, two years, but Mark did show back up. He just hadn't been able to reform himself before then. At the miraculous reappearance of their nephew, two stories circulated. 1) Mark had come back as a Yamask after being struck by the train to continue serving the station. 2) Mark had survived the initial incident, running away rather than getting hit. He only returned a few years later out of guilt and longing for his home. The second one was more widely believed, the first was a little more accurate.

Mark doesn't try to actively hide the fact he's a Yamask, but he also doesn't show it off. Sometimes, on rare occasions, he'll appear like above, communicating to Ingo and Emmet through the parts of his mask rather than appear in both body and spirit.

I feel like Mark and my Zoroark ocs N and Danny would all get along swimmingly. All raised in Unova and identify as humans/trainers, but are actually just pokemon having an identity crisis. 🙏

Gear Station seems to be a refuge for all these strange pokemon that think they're people. Honestly, it's definitely not the weirdest thing ever seen on the subway lmao-

[mistaeq]

stardust crusaders: with a s/o who does ballet

tw // none

contains: kujo jotaro, joseph joestar, kakyoin noriaki, muhammad avdol, jean pierre polnareff with a s/o who does ballet + nutcracker references. neutral!reader.

dora's note: this was a request from a sweet anon... i unwillingly posted it when it was unfinished and i lost the original ask because i had to delete it. if you're seeing this, i hope you enjoy it~🤍

word count: 1.9k

kujo jotaro

↳ he didn't really want to have anything to do with this ballet thing at first, but when he noticed how passionate you were about it and how much dancing meant for you, he understood it was no joke.

↳ you'd never imagine jotaro watching ballet, but he ended up gladly coming to see every performance of yours.

↳ after all, he's secretly so glad that your passion isn't something tiring for him or too loud. relaxing in front of a good performance of yours is way better for him than go traveling somewhere or even get into dance clubs.

↳ he's obviously heard of the nutcracker before, so when he hears from you that you'll have to perform in it, jotaro's gonna look up for it and make some research to be more informed about it.

↳ jotaro will never say it out loud, but all the efforts you put into ballet and into rehearsals scare him. he'd rather see you more relaxed and doesn't really know how to deal with it.

↳ he's not good at taking care of his own tiredness, go figure someone else's. but he'll definitely do his best. don't expect too many displays of affection, but he will.

↳ "i can move the sofa out of the way if you wanna have a quick rehearsal in the living room."

↳ while you do rehearse for the nutcracker, he'd spy on you from behind the book he's reading on the couch. don't ever tell him you notice that.

↳ the consequence of this, is that you'll probably find yourself in star platinum's arms as soon as you seem to be losing your balance. the man wouldn't let you fall so easily, he definitely keeps an eye on you.

↳ the man is used to you stretching your muscles almost everywhere around the house. he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up to you trying the splits even in your sleep. jotaro used to look at you as if you were alien at first, but now his mind accepted the fact that ballet dancers do be just flexible.

↳ jotaro is glad you have such a passion, so that during festivities like christmas or for your birthday, he knows ballet accessories will be appreciated. easy gift! but don't tell anyone.

joseph joestar

↳ oh gosh, joseph is such a supportive man. he's not a ballet kind of man, but it all becomes meaningless when it comes to supporting you. the man is gonna love ballet if it's you on the stage!

↳ definitely wants to try it too. he's kinda funny when he tries to dance with you, but you can tell he's doing his best.

↳ would you like to be spoilt? i hope so, because joseph is gonna use his huge amount of money to buy you unexpected gifts in the form of new ballet clothing, accessories and special pointe shoes with your name on them.

↳ when he gets to know you had a role in the nutcracker, he's on cloud nine and incredibly proud of you. he also specifies that his alarm clock's ringtone is one of the pieces from the nutcracker. oof.

↳ he's the kind of man who would help stretching your muscles or train with you. while you dance on the soothing music, he's gonna do push-ups or something for his muscles. on the soothing music.

↳ feeling responsible for a role in a piece like the nutcracker can easily be stressful. if you happen to have any breakdown, with joseph you won't be alone. he knows how to deal with you.

↳ but he also knows you don't like to rely on someone, above all on him, to be comforted. joseph always helps you and you don't want him to be overwhelmed. but he'll pull you closer using his hermit purple.

↳ "remember to dance and feel for yourself. not just to please whoever's gonna look at you."

↳ after you told him it's recommended to hit pointe shoes on the wall or scratch their bottom part, he'll always want to do that for you.

↳ he probably learns to reevaluate ballet thanks to you, your passion and the way you involve him in what you enjoy doing. if you're happy like that, then joseph is happy too, and he'll never stop reminding you that. he hasn't lost a single performance of yours.

↳ a downside (or perk) of having joseph as your main supporter is that he'll always make himself recognizable as the one who screams during your performances. what a man.

kakyoin noriaki

↳ probably differently from what you think, he won't even care about ballet. not because he doesn't care about what you like, just because he thinks he shouldn't try to say anything about it since he's a gamer.

↳ but that's only until you show him the emerald accessories you bought to match hierophant green's aesthetic. then, he's amazed.

↳ hierophant green is even more amazed than kakyoin himself, it won't stop nuzzling against you because he's grateful about the fact that you bought it for him purposely. the stand is deeply affectionate to you.

↳ get ready for a lot of questions coming from your cherry boy. noriaki is new to this world, and realized what stands behind ballet is much more tiring and stressful than anything that stands behind videogames, somehow.

↳ he gets scared when you mention the nutcracker. luckily, you immediately explain it's just the title of a ballet representation in which you had a role. phew. he thought you were gonna dance on nuts to crack them.

↳ kakyoin gets easily concerned when you stretch next to him. he lives in the constant fear and panic that you will suddenly break a leg or get bad muscle pain.

↳ he can't understand the struggles of doing ballet, but will probably look for anything to help on the internet. he got traumatized by pointe shoes. someone save this man's soul, please.

↳ "ballet scares me... but listen, do you have any performances planned, by chance? i wanna see..."

↳ probably brought jotaro with him to watch your performance in order to show you off to someone. he's a proud boyfriend.

↳ noriaki is the kind of boyfriend who would bring a professional camera to your performances in order to get some videos of you dancing recorded. he definitely watches them when he's alone in his room, and asks himself how can he have such a talented s/o.

↳ he set up some led lights in a room, for you to be able to create the correct atmosphere when you feel like rehearsing. there are many colors. the coolest thing he's ever bought for you.

muhammad avdol

↳ even if he's your boyfriend, he does behave like a dad. as soon as he gets to know you're into ballet, he'll turn into a proud parent. avdol's got no time to concern, he'll just be really happy for you have a passion like that.

↳ he'd read tarot cards for you everytime before a performance, and they always turn out positive. if they don't, he'll just tell you to be really careful.

↳ muhammad's always chill around you while you rehearse and tries not to look at you too much or interact too many times in order to not to distract you, but deep down, he's your number one fan and would look at you for hours.

↳ he tells everyone, when you get chosen to play a role in the nutcracker. it's something that gets often performed, but it's also so known that he takes it as if you were about to become a hollywood star.

↳ if you need someone's shoulder to cry on, he'll be the first one to embrace you. ballet isn't easy, and as much as he cherishes your passion, he'll always check on how you feel about it.

↳ last time he got too excited about your stage clothing, magician's red risked burning a pointe shoe of yours. luckily, avdol managed to handle it. he scolded his stand afterwards, but you petted it instead.

↳ no avdol, you can't get closer to the stage to take photos. you can take them from your seat. he's just like elementary school moms who want to take quality pictures of their children.

↳ "i know, falling during a performance feels horrible... come here, let me get you some ice..."

↳ he's the ceo of do-not-overwork-yourself and of if-you-feel-tired-please-stop. avdol will spoil you with cuddles after every rehearsal.

↳ if he notices you keep on comparing yourself to your fellow dancers, he'll make sure he makes you understand you're worth it just the way you are, and that you don't need to be like someone else to be talented. you'll always be his favourite either way, so you don't have to worry at all.

↳ you've let him decorate some accessories with patterns which are typical of his culture. your ballet teacher allowed you to dance in them. you couldn't be happier than that.

jean pierre polnareff

↳ have you said ballet? he loves ballet, those graceful way of dancing, the classical music, the whole atmosphere's just perfect for him, might it be because of the romantic part of his frenchness, but he's gonna cherish your passion.

↳ he's gonna dance with you. jean doesn't know how to do it, of course. but will still do that. he just enjoys it. just let him.

↳ the man treats you to special meals after rehearsals, or maybe some bubble tea, warm chocolate, or anything he has at home that he can serve you as a treat. dancing is important, but having a full stomach matters more.

↳ as soon as you come out of your latest lesson and tell him you've been chosen to have a role in the nutcracker, he'd immediately pick you up and pepper you with kisses and reminders of how proud of you he is.

↳ he'd jokingly behave like a dance teacher, keeping your timings in check. nothing serious, of course, if you told him you feel like taking a pause, he'd stop and get you a glass of fresh water.

↳ the two of you just have a lot of fun like that. you allow yourself to combine successfully some quality time with the man you love and your passion for ballet.

↳ "you're doing so well, listen to your man, you're gonna shine, babe, like the sun! trés bien!"

↳ you two once had to interrupt a rehearsal without finishing it properly, because he had said your pointe shoes looked just like his hair and you couldn't hold back the laughter.

↳ polnareff's the kind of boyfriend who doesn't want to be in the audience during performances of yours, he has a special place in your dressing room and is allowed to come in and be your emotional support. nobody's gonna keep him from being there for you!

↳ most of the time, he uses silver chariot - carefully - to move people out of the way in order to get to you. this obviously confuses non stand users, but that doesn't matter to him, as far as he can get to you.

↳ he brings food with him, when he comes to see your performances, so that he can feed you after it ends. as i said before, dancing is important, but for jean, eating is essential!

[kay-is-krazy]

Literally No Title

Please help

Idk what I’m doing

This is a fanfic

Deanxreader kinda

It needs work sorry

I will hashtag

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Damp. Everything that surrounds you is damp. As you start to come to, you smell the stench. Sulfar. Confused, you try to open your eyes, brows furred as the light tries to chase away your sight. Your adrenaline pushes you to figure out where you are. Looking around weerily, you notice the familiar iron door. Your parents old farmhouse storm cellar. Opening and closing your eyes making sure this is what you're actually seeing. It's been years. Decades even since you've seen these walls. Theyre different now. Moldy, but with cobwebs. You start to realize you're strapped down on the old iron table you used to eat spaghettios on when the tornados hit. No use in trying to squirm your way to topple over. Your father bolted it down in the cement. How did you get here. As you push and strain yourself to remember, the door opens. A tall red flannel emerges, and you go cold...

Life wasn't always fighting monsters, and saving people. You had a family of your own, until the vampire mafia ripped in to town destroying everything in their path, including your home and everyone in it. You still remember their screams as you fled into the woods. Revenge is a choice you have to make, and it sure was a hell of a ride. In this life, you run into auhtorities, but very little hunters like yourself. After bumping into the Winchesters working a werewolf case, they sort of took you under their wing. Noticing you needed guidance, before you ever could. You were in constant rage, before meeting the boys. Searching for answers, and never being satisfied with the kill. It all blurred into a blood bath of vengence. A lot of trust, losses, and whiskey, but you found a new family. You need them as much as they need you. And just recently, it was Dean needing saving.

The mark had completely consumed him. Being the hero, the guinea pig, has led him to be desperate in saving the world. You knew he was always staying strong, putting on a good face for Sam, but deep down, he is slightly broken like the rest of you. His hope depleted as the mark's strength took over his judgement. He was like you were before they saved you, scared and fuming with anger. You're just trying to return the favor before he hurts anyone else, especially his brother Sam.

After months of research, you found something. Slight chance of hope in fixing Dean. Confiding in Sam, he decides to look for it himself. The word of God. Once touched by a demon, it is said to purify them. No one has seen it in over 100 years, but you got a lead. The only thing that's near impossible is finding Dean. So time to draw him out... He wants a fight, you'll bring him a fight.

Scrounging up as many demons as possible, making sure they're alive but bleeding, you make a devils trap and wait. You heard through demon grapevine, that Dean can sniff them out. He's the big bad now. Being a demon himself, he hates them even more, if that makes sense.

But your plan didn't work. There have been plenty of close calls while working on the job, but this wasn't just a regular monster case. It was so much more, and there's a lot at stake. You realize why you're scared. You're in a situation even you can't get out of alive. Fear sets in as Dean walks closer. Each step like a predator closing in on it's prey. That red shirt, being even more red than usual.

He smirks, “Welcome back sunshine. Thought I killed you too soon”.

Your head is pounding as you try to look at your body. Realizing its broken, bruised, and bloodied, you must have put up a fight.

“Oh that, sorry, I couldn't help myself. After I knocked you out, I had some fun.” Your heart is beating so fast as if it is going to jump out of your body. The last thing you want is for him to see you afraid. You try to muffle out his name, but your voice is hoarse. “Please don't speak, I don't want my ears to bleed as you plead with me.... or on the other hand, I'd love to hear you beg for your life”, he whispers the last part in your face.

Wincing at his words, you turn your head, and say “You're not you right now. We'll fix this, Dean.”

He puts his hands on your chin, for a second you think it's him. His oversized, warm strong hands that wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was unnatural.The ones who taught you martial arts, and the ever so famous air guitar. But looking into his eyes, noticing they are lacking the softness, they flicker, and those green eyes are no longer. Black eyes, and his hands smell of sulfar. “There's nothing to fix sweetheart, I'm better than ever.” he jerks his hand away making your head turn to face him. As he walks to the door to open it, you yell out, “Just get it over with and kill me already!” He stops, turns his head just so you can see his profile, and scoffs. Walking out, and leaving you alone once again.

Wondering where Sam is, you try to squirm free from being tied up.Your fastens on your wrist have some wiggle room. Using the pointiness of your sister's ruby class ring on your left hand, you try to cut the leather bands. It's going to take hours, but you're not giving up yet. You know there are only two ways out of this, and you'll be damed if you don't fight.

'Pour some sugar on me' plays from your cell phone. Sam's calling you, the signature ringtone for drunk, fun Sam. Reminding you of the nights at the roadhouse, playing the same G43 on the old jukebox driving Dean insane. While Sammy and you sang until your voices were unrecognizable.

The door opens, and you straighten up, not making a move to let Dean know you've been trying to break free. There's a cart that he's pushing inside, full of old kitchen utensils, some tools from a shed, and a few of Dean's things from the trunk of his Impala that have been missing since the mark took him over.

“I know you and Sam have been looking for me, trying to save me. I'm going to show you how much I don't want or need you two around. Lets send Sammy a message, hm?” He walks over to your jacket with your cellphone in it. Dean throws it in the air and catches it. Holding it like a gun, making fake noises pretending to shoot you. “Glad to see you havent lost your adolescent behavior”, you say, “I know you're still in there Dean”.

He puts your phone down on the cart, picking up a rusty knife used for cutting fish. “But I'm not, and I'm going to prove to you just how wrong you are about me.” He cuts your cheek, and you feel the skin break open, stinging.

“You can hurt me all you want, you'll just be hurting yourself.” You say and spit in his face. The dark smirk scurries from his face, and you know what's coming next is worst.

The torture that he tortured you with only stems from Hell. Picture after picture taken and sent to Sam. The laughing, the darkness, and the insults coming from him, you start to lose hope that Dean is even in there. You keep reminding yourself that demons lie. Not believing anything DemonDean says, even though you desperately want it to be true. The remarks about how he used to think about you like a little sister until a couple years ago when you got stood up on a date with some guy named Brett. Thinking back from a different perspective now, you realize Dean was the one there who saved you from getting kicked out of the restaurant for using up a table. Waiting for some loser you met online, but seeing Dean sitting down across from you, feeling a sense of clarity and sureness. But now ever since he's turned into something evil, he doesn't feel a thing at all for you or Sam.

In and out of consiousness, you decide you wouldn't give up on him. Even though your body is mangled, you keep pushing.

“Dean, this isn't the path your mother would have wanted. You have to know that. You don't want to let her down or she'd died for nothing.” You plead and try, but he slaps you hard in the face. The hit seemed personal, as if you were getting somewhere with him. You reason, “Isn't family what brings people together, it's what brought us together. Aren't we family, you could let me go, and Sam and I can help you see the light again. Just like your mom used to say right? The light will guide you home. Come home Dean!” Another blow to your head. He knocks you out again.

As you come to, Dean is reaching for the blade. He's actually going to use it on you, kill you. Coming to terms with your fate, you start to hum and mumble 'simple man by lynryd skynrd'. It was always your favorite. It was everyones favorite. You figured it was a good enough song to go out to. You peek open your eyes as much as you can. Throbbing and seeping blood, you're finally able to see Dean stop and stare at you. He drops the blade, looking down at the mark and then back at you. His face twisted, unsure of what is reality. You don't stop singing. Second verse, he's closer now. A single tear rolling down your face; knowing if he ever came back, got the mark off, he wouldn't forgive himself. Even when he's unable to save someone on a job, he's hard on himself. You can't imagine what he'll feel like, so you pity him.

He's closer now, hands around your throat. He's trying to fight you and himself. The pain and anger in his eyes turns black, then normal again. You look him straight in those familiar faint green eyes, and say your final words, “I forgive you.” The world goes dark.

Heaven was always described as 'your own personal paradise'. You're wondering why yours is in a hospital. White walls and curtains. The coldness in your nose suprises you. Who knew paradise would be so cold, gray, and foggy. Nothing was easy to make out, but you could definitely tell it was a hospital. You hate hospitals, confused as to why you're heaven isn't what you expected, you look around to see if there is a recognizable face. Hoping for maybe your Dad, Mom, or sister.

No one. There's a loud beeping noise and you look up to see a monitor. Looks like the vitals of a dead man. You start to wonder maybe God put you in the wrong paradise. So you pray. But words don't come out, and you drift back into the dark.

Blinking once, then twice, then several times. The light is bright. You can tell it's daytime. Still the same Heaven as before, but this time you feel everything. The pain, the tenderness. You remember, and know that you're not dead. Relieved, but still uncertain, you try to move. Expecting straps to hold you back, your right arm goes flying in the air. Not used to being free. You look down at your body. It's bandaged and braced. A mountain of a man peeks through the curtains. You have instant relief when you recognize Sam. He has the 'poor puppy eyes' look, and you put your hand on his. He grips it tight, but gentle enough. The gentle giant. Trying to let out a smile, a shadow lurks behind Sam. Instant fear as you realize it's Dean. Panic sets in, and your body cannot handle it. The monitors go off, you see Sam try to calm you down, and Dean sneaking away, head down, disgraced with himself. Nurses rush in with the Doctor to make sure you're okay. Tears well up in your eyes. You somehow cannot forget what Dean has done to you.

Weeks in the hospital, the only visitor you had was Sam. Trying to keep your spirits up, he shows you all of his research following up on possible cases. Between playing cards, reading books, and making fun of the new Taylor Swift song, you ask Sam, “How is he?”, and each answer is the same. “No better, no worse,” Sam replies. After the panic attack, Dean thought it best if he didn't show his face anymore to you. Once healed, you were allowed to go home as long as you didn't saw off the leg brace, and practice using the crutches. Knowing how stubborn you are, Sam rolled his eyes, and promised to watch over you.

Happy to finally break out, you laugh as you fumble with the crutches. Sam lets out a worrisome smile. “I'm fine Sam. Really.” You look up to him and give him a carefree toothy grin. Throwing all of your things into the impala, because Sam refused to drive “that stupid pink truck”, you beg Sam to let you pick the music.

Pulling up to the bunker, your stomach sinks a little. You know you'll have to face Dean eventually. Fogiving is easy for you, but forgetting is a whole other learning curve. Never being the one to admit you're wrong first, or facing real problems, you know it's somehting that needs to be worked on. Staring off into the distance a bit, Sam pulls you out of it as he opens the door. “We're stocked up on all your favorite foods, drinks, and even have Netflix!” He says, nudging you arm and attempting a playful laugh.

Weeks of healing, you finally are able to get up into your truck. You need some air, and desperately needed to get away. The outside world was calling your name, so were the pink wheels on that old ford. First hours, days, then weeks went by, and not a single glance from Dean. No words, no contact. Ignored you completely. Anytime you tried to reach him, asking to grab a drink at the dirty bird bar, to researching a simple ghost job, he pushed you away. You spent so much time in your room with your thoughts. Trying not to think about the event that almost ended you, and most importantly the relationship with Dean. Even Sammy has started treating you differently like you're broken. After Sam telling you to stay home again, while they hunt monsters, you'd had enough. Weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods. You leave your phone on your nighstand and decide you need some peace to clear your mind.

“Fill her up,” you say shutting off your truck to get gas. Getting out to grab snacks from inside, a long lost friend appears. Not able to look away from the light, he shields your eyes for you. You forgot how enchanthing the bright white was. “Cas what are you doing here?” You ask as you looks at you stearnly.

“I was told to keep a tab on you, and you left the bunker. So I'm here to bring you back.” He says reaching for your arm.

“Under who's orders?!” You demand. Not letting him answer you back away and say, “The boys? Really can't even get some fresh air!” Clearly angry, you hit your tailgate. Cas immediatley lays his hands on you to heal you. Being an angel has it's perks. But you wanted to feel something, Cas didn't exactly understand what being human was really like.

Brushing his hand away, you try to reason with him. “Go back to the bunker, grab my phone, and bring it to me. That way I have it on me in case I need anything. I'm still going on my very needed trip. What I don't need is a babysitter” Before you could blink twice, Cas had your phone in hand. “Do not turn this off and always keep this on you.” Rolling your eyes you respond sarcastically, “Thanks Dad. Can I leave now?” Clearly unsure of his decision, Cas side eyes you, but finally nods, and leaves you to your road trip snacking.

The cabin is the same as you left it two summers ago. A couple empty beers scattered, but the rest of the place in neat tidy order. Your mom always liked everything in a specific spot, and you try your best to remember that while staying there. Picking up the bottles to recycle them, you smile and remember the good times spent here with your family, both families. Thinking about the boys, you let out a sigh of relief. Thanking the angels that Sam showed up when he did in the storm cellar that day. The word of God being forcefully put in Dean's hands, purifying him instantly. A bright gold light shining through the brick like object, blasting Dean into Sam. His brother holding onto Dean as he comes to and realizes, he's saved. Sam's words will stay with you forever, that story will stay with you forever. You smile as you remember, you were the one who stalled Dean as Sam had come to the rescue.

“Oh shit!” You say as your line tugs and gets stronger. You were too busy admiring the cotton candy sunset to see your fishing line got a bite. It was a warm afternoon, but turning brisk fast. Fall was settling in, you could tell as the wing picked up every now and then. The trees leaves turning the auburn colors. Setting your beer down, you reel it in, but your bait is completely gone.

“You never were good at fishing.” You quickly stand from a lousy folded plastic chair, and turn around to find Dean, smiling at your loss. Clearly shocked, you ask “What are you doing here? Cas told you didn't he. Lousy friend.”

You put your pole down, and open the cooler to offer Dean a beer. He takes it and slowly sits down on the edge of the dock, feet dangling. You sit down next to him, opening your own beer. “Where's Sam?” you ask.

“Working the case still.” He notices your cocked eyebrow from a side glance. As if he would ever leave Sammy alone, he continues, “It's easy, just some pyscho vengeful ghost.” He sips his beer, straring at the now setting sun.

Getting straight to it, you ask, “Why are you here Dean?” Staring at him, you notice the weariness.

He lowers his head, gripping his beer tight. You see his shoulders move up and down slowly. Sighing heavily, he looks at you, completely looks at you for the first time. It catches your breath, because you have never seen a man so broken, Dean so vulnerable. You can tell he's been fighting with himself, beating himself up over the events that took place. Defeated, face full of hatred for himself, he doesn't say a word. You see his jaw tighten, his temples twitching. Reaching for his shoulder to show trust, but he pulls away shaking his head. “I don't trust myself with you” He musters, as he stands up to walk toward the cabin. Thinking about chasing after him, forcing him to talk, but you can't move. Like cement, you stay planted in your spot. The sun finally sets, but you still sit there, listening to the sound of the frogs.

Grabbing your things from the dock, you head inside. What could you say to make him believe you. Would you believe yourself if you said, “Everything is okay.”? Is it? Inside, you notice Dean is cleaning up what seems to be like the bathroom mirror. Understanding what just happened, you bend down to help and he stops you. Gripping your hands tight, he says “No. You don't need to clean up my mess. Any of my messes.” With a dustpan, he walks to the trash to dump the shards of glass.

“What's that suppose to mean? Am I not allowed to care? To try to save you from yourself?” He winces at the last part.

Turning around to face you, but leaning against the kitchen counter, he looks at you cold and promises, “You will never have to save me again. I will never hurt you or anyone else again.” He looks down and then back up into your eyes, moving towards the door, “You wanna know why I'm here? I came here to say goodbye.”

Stopping him dead in his tracks, you look up at him wondering how you and Sam could even survive without Dean. You start to cry. It's not like you to let anything out, but you stand there, tears pouring out of your face. “No.” was all you could muster up. Very stearn, you said it again, “No.” He grabs you and pulls you in close. Hanging on to eachother, as if it's the last time.

You both stay like this awhile, not realizing it's way over due. “You're not leaving us. We won't let you.” you say confidently, and at this he lets go. He tenses again, trying to be strong, and insists “You and Sammy have to let me go. I've been nothing but trouble. I'm bad. I'm not worth your lives.” Clearly needing reassurance, but not knowing how, you yell, “I went through all of that for nothing?!” Talking with your hands like usual, brows furious now, you continue, “After everything, you still think you're not worth it? Sam and I have done everything for you, for us, for this family.”

He turns his back on you holding back tears, but instead letting out his frustration, “You don't what it's like to need constant saving. I need control of myself, I don't have control.” He yells as he punches the wall. It startles you.

“Oh, I don't know what it's like?” you start, “You don't think that I was ever at a low in my life. What losing my family did to me, the things I did in return. It wasn't until you and your brother, that I finally found solace!” you scoff, “Please you're not the only broken one around here.” Realizing that anger isn't the route to go down, you quietly move toward him. Pushing back the fear that has been dormant, you hold his hand. “We are family.” you say softly. “Family doesnt end in blood.” You wipe away the blood trickling from his knuckle with your shirt.

His hands are shaking now, as he holds them up inching closer to your neck. You flinch, and he tries to pull away. You immediatley grab his hands, and put them to your cheeks, making his squish them together a little. Tears welling up in your eyes, you let out a low, “i'm a little guppy...” It was something you two always did to cheer eachother up. Getting the other to laugh when you're both at a low point has been almost like a game. So far, he's beeing in the lead. Before you can finish, his lips are on yours. Waves of heat roll from your head to your toes, your wet cheeks brushing his scruff, and you give in, even being scared and uncertain. Dean pulls away, looks at you stearn, and says “I'm going to miss you.”

You're still standing not sure of what just happened, and you hear the door slam shut. It seemed as though your feet wouldn't move, but then you finally took a deep breath, turned around and bolted out the door. He was getting in the impala, but before he could jet off, you opened that door and ripped him out. Standing toe to toe, you slap him. That bottled rage unleashes. Then you connect your fist to his face. Unprepared, Dean fell against the car. Shocked at how hard you hit, he starts to realize you're not going to stop, so he holds your hands down. Red in the face from anger, and him red because well there's now blood pouring from his nose, you finally relax so he loosens his rains on you.

“What was that?!” You ask. “Who do you think you are? That is not okay. I am not okay.” Turning around, hands on your hips, shaking your head. Instantly defensive, you gasp, turn to face him, and make sure he knows, “I am not like every other girl. I don't deserve to be treated like any other girl.” He opens his mouth to say something, but you immediatley talk over him, “You're going to have to kill me.” Dean looks at you clearly confused. “Why do I have to kill you?”

Walking back and forth now, you respond, “Over my dead body...You're not walking out on us. Not Sammy, not me. Not our future. People need us, they need you.” Stopping, and turning to face Dean, you say, “I need you. And if you get in that impala, you better have shot me first because I won't stop looking for you.” Walking toward him now, pointing your finger in his chest, you end with “I refuse to give up on you.” At that, he looks down at you, smirks, and responds, “You're stubborn, you know that?” You break a smile, and say “I learned from the best.” Throwing you over his shoulder, he walks into the cabin.

Completely surprised as to what took place last night, you turn around and look at Dean's green eyes. Understanding now, the feelings that were dormant for so long. Realizing now that DemonDean only told the truth to hurt you.You put your hand to his face, brushing his cheek with the back of your finger, and he closes his eyes to just feel your touch. “You're not allowed to leave.” He nods, reaches for your hand with his, and lightly kisses your fingers. “I will never forgive myself...” He says, and you respond instantly, with your pointer finger shooshing his lips, “I forgive you, and will continue to remind you that you're the good guy.” Closing your eyes, thinking about the first time meeting these boys, not knowing how they would change your life for the better, you smile. He rolls you over with ease, and tucks you in close to his warm naked chest. Deep, and grunting, he says your name into your hair. You lift your head a little to let him know you're listening, “hm?” “I don't deserve this” he says, “I don't deserve you.” You respond while picking his hand up moving it closer to your chest, “Neither do I.”