#but the way i have it in my locket you only really see his face and none of his hair

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject III pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: angst and comfort. fluff. mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth and DUI. wc: 2.7k part 3 and the last part of touchy subject! click here for part 1, click here for part 2 i really liked writing for them and honestly i'm considering occasionally writing blurbs for them and what their relationship would shape into, lmk if you'd be interested!!

seeing you in front of that store felt like it might've killed rafe. the first face he fell in love with, the woman who'd left him with nothing but scars and an engagement ring. somehow, he still managed to stay alive.

but hearing you say his name in the soft voice he hadn't heard in over four years, the same one that you used to tell him you loved him every single night before your body went slack in his arms, that might have been the final blow.

"what are you doing here?" you managed to mutter, your hand instinctively going to your locket, squeezing it in your hand, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by rafe.

"what's this?" rafe asked as the two of you laid in bed, his finger tracing the patterns on the heart-shaped locket resting on your chest, the one you'd worn around your neck for as long as he'd known you.

"this?" you asked, opening the locket, displaying two pictures; one of them was of you when you were a little girl, standing between your parents with a wide, toothy grin on your face, and the other was a picture of you and rafe, taken at midsummers. "i got this from my mom. it's a family heirloom of sorts. when she's born," you looked down at your stomach, "we've gotta get a picture taken of us three so i can put it here."

he let out a small chuckle, "i'm honored that you want me in your heart."

"i think you're always going to be in my heart," you rolled your eyes, "whether i want it or not."

"i'm here to see you. i thought that'd be obvious." rafe said without an ounce of emotion in his voice, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine. grieving your daughter on what would've been her fifth birthday wasn't a moment you exactly wanted your ex to witness, but this was still rafe. the man you loved for so long, the only man you ever loved, the one you were going to marry, and this was still the house that was supposed to be your home.

so you stepped aside, pulling your cardigan closed as a way to close yourself off from the man as you walked further into the house, not daring yourself to look back at him, fearing the urge that still remained in your chest to just pull him close to you and be in his arms.

you heard the door close, pressing your eyes shut as you stood in front of the fireplace, your arms crossed in front of your chest as if defending yourself, the man's footsteps echoing in the room, "it's cold in here."

"the radiator's broken."

"can you just, at least look at me, or something?"

"do i have to?" you chuckled humorlessly, and when you felt his hand on your shoulder, it felt like the room got ten degrees colder, the man slowly turning you around to face him, and when you refused to look up at him, focusing on the baby blue sweater he was wearing, he brought his hand to your chin, gently lifting it up, just like he did every time he was about to kiss you.

"we need to talk."

if someone was to ask you what would be the most uncomfortable situation you had ever been in, this would be among the top 3, right after you got the 'birds and the bees' talk and the time you said your goodbyes to the same man now sitting beside you, the space between you two big enough to fit another person.

"why did you come back?" rafe asks, without even sparing you a glance. you decide to do the same, your gaze staying on the fire crackling in front of you.

"i don't know. a part of me thinks it's because i missed home."

"and the other part?"

missed us. missed her. "missed my mom, i guess."

your mother had driven you home from the hospital, insisting that she'd stay with you for the next few days; you still hadn't seen rafe. you couldn't face him, couldn't face the guilt you carried around for being the reason your daughter would be coming home in an urn.

she'd gone to the store for groceries, leaving you to sit on the couch you and rafe had picked out, staring at the engagement picture that hung above the fireplace.

you didn't know how it started, how every single vase ended up as nothing but shards of glass on the floor, how the coffee table had ended up as planks of wood, how your fists were bruised from beating them against the walls, your knees bloody from when you'd collapsed on the ground amongst all the glass.

"do you know what day it is?" rafe asked with a weak voice, and you could hear him try to swallow down the emotion crawling up his throat.

his question made you want to let out a small, humorless laugh. you don't know how you could ever forget. "of course." the day i killed her.

rafe stood up, running his hand over his chin before trailing over the short strands of hair on his head, "why did you do it?" he looked to you. "why did you leave?"

"i had no reason to stay." you say emotionlessly, your fingers intertwined as you kept your eyes on them as if you were praying.

"you had me. you would've had me if you just let me be there."

"rafe, i killed our daughter."

"what-"

"i'm the reason our daughter isn't here. i'm the reason she doesn't exist. i'm the reason that today isn't only her fifth birthday, but also the fifth anniversary of her death."

rafe kneeled down in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, not caring if it made you uncomfortable, or that this was the first time he'd properly touched you in over four years, the only thing that mattered to him was that you listened.

"you did not kill our daughter."

"i did."

"no." he scoffed, "you aren't the reason she's dead. the reason is the drunken asshole who drove at you. you loved her with your entire being, with everything you had, even before she was born. you would've been the most amazing mother in the world. don't you dare blame yourself for something you had zero control over."

"i shouldn't have driven in that weather. i knew it was gonna be raining, that the roads would be slippery-"

"no." rafe said sternly, "look at me."

your eyes moved to look into rafe's steel-blue ones, shimmering with unshed tears, his jaw clenched, and only then did you realize that he was cupping your face in his hands, his touch somehow managing to make you feel warm even in the cold apartment.

"i won't have you blame yourself for something you had no fuckin' control over. evelyn was so wanted, by both of us. she would've been so loved. we would've done anything to protect her, and to keep her safe. if any fucker even thought about hurting her, i would've made sure they'd regret ever being born. but you are not to blame for her not being here."

rafe's hands moved from your cheeks to your hands, the man instead taking your clenched fists into his, letting out a small sniffle, and when he pressed his eyes closed and let out a sigh, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"yeah, you could've not driven in the rain. but i should've been the one to drive you to your mom's, you were eight months along, an insane man would make you drive yourself, or i should've made sure you got home before it was dark, or i should've picked you up myself. there are so many things we could've done differently, but that doesn't mean that either of us is to blame for it."

"i spent so long blaming myself for what happened, but not even for a moment did i blame you. you did everything to keep her safe, and i know it, and i'm sure that she knows it too. you loved her more than anything, and i won't let some drunk driving idiot make you feel like you did anything wrong."

slowly, you opened your fists, half-moon prints on the palms on your hands caused by your nails, and without even realizing, tears had been rolling down your eyes the entire time that rafe had been speaking, the man standing up and pressing a kiss on your forehead that felt like it burnt and would leave a mark that'd be there forever, before he settled down next to you.

a strand of hair was stuck on your cheek, almost glued on there by the tears you shed, the blonde man tugging it behind your ear, his eyes still on you, his hands still cupping yours.

"i don't blame you for what happened, nor do i blame you for pushing me away. but i wish you would've let me in, to be there for you, instead of leaving. so we could've grieved her together."

"i think we should break up, rafe."

"what?" rafe turned to look at you; this wasn't what he had been expecting to hear after two months of silence, "if this is about the baby-"

"i can't do it anymore." you closed your eyes, letting a tear run down your cheek, "i need to leave. start over."

you turned your head to look at him, his words feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and even though you tried to find it, there was nothing in his eyes that said that he was lying.

"you don't blame me for any of it?"

your voice was weak and feeble, as if a part of you was expecting him to tell you that he did, but when he pulled you into his embrace, he told you the truth in the best way he knew how to: without saying a single word.

you didn't know how long you had been in rafe's arms; it felt like hours, while also feeling like the moment had lasted mere seconds, like you two lived in your own bubble. it felt like the last four years hadn't happened, like you had never left.

but when he pulled away from the embrace and looked down at his watch, letting out a sigh, you knew what was coming. the bubble burst.

"i should probably get going." rafe let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before starting to get up off the couch, stretching his long limbs.

"yeah, yeah." you said softly, clearing your throat, trying to act like nothing had happened, like you hadn't gone through every memory you shared while he was just holding you to comfort you, "your girlfriend's probably waiting for you."

rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to look down at you, "girlfriend?"

"shit," you chuckle softly, fidgeting with your hands and chewing on your lower lip, "i guess she's your fiancée, now."

he sat down on the couch next to you while you simply avoided his gaze, not wanting him to read everything you were feeling like he so often seemed to do, but your attempt was unsuccessful, the man bringing his hand to your chin and gently turning your head so you were forced to look at him, his brows slightly furrowed while he looked at you pointedly.

"what girlfriend, or fiancée?"

you didn't know if rafe was acting stupid, or if he was genuinely confused, but you could still remember the woman with him at the jewelry store, the woman who had managed to make him smile, whose back rafe placed his hand on.

"you know," you clear your throat, taking his hand off your chin and turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in your eyes as you thought about him waiting at the aisle for another woman, "the woman at the jewelry store."

rafe let out a soft laugh, and when you turned your head, facing him, he was nearly keeling over in laughter, his head in his hands.

"what?"

"that-" rafe said inbetween laughs, "that wasn't my girlfriend."

"what?" you mumbled softly, your brows furrowing, "what do you mean, rafe?"

"sorry-" he continued laughing for a while only to be stopped by a soft smack you delivered to his shoulder, before the man took a deep breath, looking at you with a small smile gracing his lips, a sight that still got your heart to flutter, "that wasn't my girlfriend, or my fiancée."

"then... who was she?"

"that was," rafe let out another chuckle as if you had said something foolish, taking one of your hands in his and intertwining your fingers, "wheezie's girlfriend."

you tried processing the words that had left his lips, but no matter what, they didn't seem to make since. "why were you in a jewelry store together? wheezie's only like-"

"wheezie's nineteen." rafe shook his head, "her girlfriend, lucy, asked me to help her pick out a ring. sarah was supposed to go with her, but she had some preschool stuff to deal with relating to jack, so i got stuck with that duty…"

"isn't nineteen a bit... young?"

"it is. but you remember how young we were when we got engaged? or sarah?" a fond smile took over rafe's lips as he turned to look at the fire that was slowly burning out, letting the next words out in a hushed tone. "guess it runs in the family."

"guess so." you say, biting down on your lip, turning to look at the fire with him, your cheeks warm as you felt like an idiot for your assumption.

"i still haven't moved on." rafe said, letting out a breath, "i don't know if i can. i don't think i even want to." you turned to look back at one another at the same time, both of you seeing the same melancholy in the other one's eyes, "there's no one i would ever want to be with other than you."

you took a deep breath, his words ringing through your head as you looked at him, a damp trail running down his cheek was still visible from the tears he had shed, and you took a deep breath, making a decision that you knew would impact the rest of your life.

"me neither, rafe."

you brought your hand to his cheek and felt the tear he had shed under your touch, pulling his face to meet yours until your lips clashed, feeling the exact same that it did four years ago, making you wonder how you ever let it go.

SIX MONTHS LATER...

you laid on a blanket in the middle of a field of sunflowers, your arms crossed behind your head and your eyes pressed closed, letting the sun beam down your face, warming you up as your bare feet were being tickled by blades of grass.

your daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and you opened one of your eyes to see rafe stumble through the long flowers into the small clearing you'd found, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

"don't laugh at me." he scolded, shaking his head as he landed on the blanket next to you, letting out a soft grunt.

"why not?" you asked, sticking your tongue out at him, your boyfriend gasping in feigned offence, about to quip back at you, only to be stopped by the small, chaste peck you pressed on his lips, even the small display of affection managing to leave him speechless.

as he settled down next to you, you smiled while looking up at the sky, white clouds covering a part of the beautiful icy blue nothingness that was so much like rafe's eyes, your thoughts on her. you took rafe's hand in yours, keeping your eyes trained up while you let yourselves just exist together.

"you're always going to be in my heart, evelyn louise cameron." you said softly as you traced the patterns on your locket, rafe turning his head to look at you, a somber expression on his face as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"yeah, she will. and neither of us will ever forget her."

[todayisafridaynight]

gotta be tbh i chose the worst picture of daigo to put in my little locket cause he really looks too much like my dad and i cant look at it too long or im gonna suddenly feel inclined to drive to new york

[grimesthinker]

cw: fluff, basically daryl being soft for you. (fem!reader x daryl dixon) 776 wc

DARYL DIXON had no idea what to do when it came to someone like you. to say the least, he didn’t quite understand you. you had proved countless times you could take care of yourself, so you weren’t weak by any means. still, there were small things that made him really question you.

after daryl’s group got settled into alexandria, they had many new faces to meet, including yours. even though he wouldn’t admit it, daryl was instantly drawn to you. with rosy cheeks, long eyelashes and an innocent smile, he just couldn’t help it. he began to notice small things about you, like the clothes and accessories you wore. although your closet was obviously limited, you always tried your best to make your appearance seem fuller. sometimes you found pieces of cloth or silk, to which you would make bows out of to place in your hair. sometimes you made jewelry, even making a bracelet for daryl. you weren’t really expecting him to wear it, but he did.

one day, you asked daryl if you could join him on a supply run. “nah, i ain’t babysittin’.” he said in a grainy voice as he lit the cigarette between his lips. you didn’t let up though, using those big puppy-dog eyes to plead with him. “damnit girl, don’t ‘ya ever listen?” he grunted, but eventually gave in.

on the way back, unknowingly to both of you, a walker that been stuck in the leaves grabs your shoe and causes you to trip. daryl quickly shoots the creature with an arrow and helps you up. he watches as you grab his hand and gain back your balance. he can tell you’re flustered, as your cheeks grow darker than normal and you fail to meet his eyes. a shy thing, you could be sometimes. he studies you as you thank him and stutter an apology for not watching where you step.

instinctively, you touch your neck where your necklace rests, only there’s no necklace. panic begins to build and daryl can see it written all over your face. “you okay?” you look up at him, shaking your head. “my necklace…” your hand begins to shake a little, and daryl realizes. you’ve worn the same necklace since he first met you, a rusty gold chain with a heart shaped locket. he heard you speak about it to carl once, explaining how it had a picture of your family in it. you drop to your knees and start looking for it, daryl about to join you when you both hear growling in the distance. a herd is coming your way, daryl realizes and touches your shoulder. “hey kid, we gotta go.” he tells you, but you shake your head and continue to search. daryl watches as the herd moves closer, his frustration building as you’re putting yourself in danger. “get yer ass up girl, we gotta go.” he pulls you up, yet his gaze softens when he sees the tears that have already fell down your soft cheeks. “daryl, i can’t-“ you start, but he’s already pulling you both out of the way of the herd and back to alexandria.

a few days pass, and all daryl can think about is you and that damn necklace. you haven’t been the same since you guys returned, and everyone has noticed. usually, you’re the most talkative person in alexandria, but recently you’ve only been speaking when you have to. daryl winces when he thinks about it, absolutely hating the fact that you’re any kind of upset. after stealing a glance of you through your window and seeing the sullen expression on your face, he grabs his crossbow and heads into the woods. a couple hours later, he finds himself standing at your doorstep.

he knocks, and you answer with a soft smile. “hi daryl.”

“uh,” he clears his throat, holding his hand out with the gold necklace in it. “i had to fix the chain but the locket is still intac-“ you cut him off as you throw your arms around his neck and embrace him with a hug. “daryl!” his eyes widen as he stands, unsure what to do with his own arms as he registers the body pressed against his own. “thankyouthankyouthankyou!” you pull back, taking the necklace from his hand and clasping it around your neck. you look down at it before you place a kiss on daryl’s cheek. his stubble tickles you and you give a slight giggle, pulling him in for another hug. he’s taken back at first, but eventually wraps his own hands around your frame.

“you sure are stronger than ‘ya look, huh, girl?”

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P40 | i see the end

You were trying so hard not to fidget, not to let your smile drop even though Xiaojun and Haechan were being really funny right now. At the back of your mind, you can just see Yoonsu coming closer and closer, wearing Junyoung's face only to distort it, to ruin it, and the memories of Junyoung you have only ever allowed yourself to keep.

Poor Junyoung, buried somewhere in an unmarked grave.

You practically jumped in your spot when a hand gripped on your shoulder. Mark flinched, standing just right by your side when you let out a sudden yelp at the contact. Both of you turned around, and you automatically let out a fake enthusiastic smile as you reluctantly let Yoonsu wrap his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace that lifted you off your feet.

He pushed you away so he can look at your face more closely.

"Junyoung! Oh, it's been so long. I'm glad you made it." You hoped your voice didn't sound too stiff, unconvincing, and terrified instead of happy.

Junyoung's face smiled back at you, but the glee he expressed through Junyoung's soulless eyes was venomous instead of genuine.

This was pure torture.

Yoonsu said he was doing you a favour, but you knew how aware he was in what he's doing with you. There was pure horror and repulsion in your eyes that made Yoonsu the happiest man on earth right now.

Mark looked between you and Yoonsu, wondering why your eyes didn't match your words. When Yoonsu finally let you down, sincerely in love with the way your hands almost desperately clawed at his chest to pull away from him. Mark's eyes didn't miss the way you pulled away from the embrace too—fingers curled at the front of his hoodie, nails attempting to dig in past the thick woven fabric and into his skin.

"Now who's this?" Ningning chirped, and you turned around back to them, the smile still carved into the corner of your lips, making the muscles in your cheeks ache.

"Everyone, meet Lee Junyoung. He was my senior at my highschool in Gangnam, and he helped me out a lot back then when I needed it."

"Hello, everyone. It's nice to see that Y/N actually has so many friends now." He mimicked Junyoung's signature smile that pushed his eyelids close, making the knot in your stomach twist inwards.

You wanted to kill him. With your own bare hands. You wanted to take a knife and carve his face, to pull Junyoung's face away from such a repulsive man.

"Where were you all this time then?" Yangyang spoke almost monotonely, face set straight.

Where were you when Y/N needed you while she was forced to work for a loanshark?

"I moved overseas 3 years ago, to the Philippines, because of my mother's job. I wished we never moved though." Yoonsu turned to you, giving you a meaningful look, eyes telling you all sorts of warning.

"It's okay, I never blamed you for leaving me. You're here now."

You felt like throwing up. You felt like Junyoung's ghost was pulling on your noose from behind, but when you glanced at it, the locket was still hanging off your neck like it usually did. It just felt so much tighter and heavier now.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"Your friends are more annoying than I thought. The guy who asked me that question—that's Yangyang, right?" Yoonsu didn't even bother to glance at you, still inspecting the music themed accessories on the counter.

"I'll manage him. He's harmless, Yoonsu. Don't mind him." You quickly quipped out, and the palpable fear in your voice made him scoff.

He really loved how scared you were at the moment.

"You know, you should be thanking your stars that your godfathers are practically untouchable. Members of the Min clan—a prominent old money chaebol family—owe them a favour. They're powerful enough to crush me like I'm some sort of roach and flush my body down the toilet without getting caught. Do you know why they're so indebted to Geonwoo and Woojin?" Yoonsu turned to you, bending his body so his face was close to yours.

You shook your head. When you were still working for him, he once slapped you for having bad breath. Markhad let you finish his americano earlier, and you're not taking the risk of getting another slap from Yoonsu in public.

Yoonsu smirked at your meek behaviour and stood up straight again.

"Kim Myeonggil, who used to be a prominent loanshark, had humiliating blackmail material over a member of the Min clan. Thanks to Geonwoo and Woojin however, that blackmail was literally incinerated and Myeonggil is now behind bars—after getting his ass beat by Geonwoo."

You knew Geonwoo and Woojin had connections to the Min clan, but you didn't think it was because they did them a great favour. Yoonsu grasped your cheek, feeling your stone cold skin under his cold palm.

"Now, here you are, someone Geonwoo and Woojin care for, under my mercy for the blackmail I have over you. It'll be real poetic once I kill you. You're their karma, Y/Nnie."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

You entered your unit, startled to see your brother in the kitchen area together with Geonwoo and Woojin. They were cooking dinner altogether, and for a while you stood there at the doorway. Watching your family cook dinner in the kitchen, wearing silly aprons, working in tandem. Yuno always wondered what it would feel like to have older siblings above him that would take care of him just like how he takes care of you, and now his wish was fulfilled, in this short moment that will forever live on in your memories, seared into the back of your mind.

Geonwoo was washing the dishes while Yuno was following Woojin's orders on the steps to making the perfect eggroll. Yuno looked like he was enjoying himself.

Yoonsu will break this family apart. He swore he would, and you knew he always keeps his word.

When Geonwoo turned his head and saw you, you smiled. A genuine smile, for the first time in three days.

Yoonsu was going to kill you after ruining your life anyway, and let you reunite with Junyoung. What's the pain in enjoying this small moment of happiness as it is?

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A/N : if my writing is all over the place here, please excuse it. im kinda high on sleep deprivation rn

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[saintsenara]

If Voldemort had repented and felt remorse like Harry offered him, what exactly would have happened to him? Would his soul have been healed and he forgiven? I mean, I’m pretty sure he would definitely be thrown into Azkaban for life, but would he be normal again? Like, no longer that bald, no-nose snake face creep and his soul intact.

thank you very much for the ask, @hollyparker! i can think of no question more suitable for this season of allhallowtide.

canon is clear that genuine remorse would have resulted in the fissures in voldemort's soul being healed:

"Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asked. "Yes," said Hermione with a hollow smile, "but it would be excruciatingly painful." "Why? How do you do it?" asked Harry.  "Remorse," said Hermione. "You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

so, the only thing necessary to trigger the healing of the soul is the feeling of remorse. there's no need to perform any sort of public penance, nor even to actually say out loud that you're sorry. you just need to be sorry, and the slate of your soul is wiped clean.

[that is - as we'll come to below - your salvation is achieved by faith alone, rather than by works and rituals...]

so yes, voldemort would be forgiven. but only in the theological - rather than the psychological, social, or legal - sense of the word.

his victims wouldn't suddenly be expected to be fine with him, his slate wouldn't be wiped clean in the eyes of the wizarding legal system, and he would still be expected to be punished for what he'd done. if he survives putting his soul back together, instead of dying on the spot, he's definitely looking at life in azkaban - if not a capital sentence - and he'd deserve it. and if he dies, he's still going to be remembered as an evil man, rather than the history of his crimes being erased by his deathbed repentance. he would simply rot in azkaban and/or die with an intact soul.

but what about with an intact appearance?

canon doesn't ever discuss what would happen to voldemort's body if he healed his soul, and either option - that his appearance would revert or that it wouldn't - is justifiable. but my view is certainly that healing his soul would trigger the transformation of his appearance.

[i don't have a preference on whether this means he would revert to the body he had when he first split his soul - that is, his appearance would be as it was when he was sixteen - or if he'd be his canonical age, just with a human face. either makes one hell of a premise for a fic.]

voldemort's physical degradation is directly caused by making horcruxes - right down to the very first time he splits his soul - and it accelerates as he goes beyond the norms of even this darkest of magic. the version of him which visits hepzibah smith - who has made two horcruxes: the diary and the ring - is very thin, very pale, and heavily implied to look quite sickly, and he also has a red gleam in his eyes. the version who comes to see dumbledore for a job interview - who has made four or five horcruxes: the diary, the ring, the cup, the diadem, and possibly the locket - is unnaturally pale, has skin which looks like melted wax, has eyes which are starting to look permanently bloodshot, and [much to harry's disappointment] is no longer good-looking. creating harry - rather than his resurrection ritual - is what seems to cause his looks to degrade further, since the voldemort of philosopher's stone is described facially in identical ways to the voldemort of goblet of fire, although the creation of nagini probably makes these features even more horrifying.

as a narrative device, voldemort's physical changes has an enormous amount in common with the gradual disfigurement of the portrait in the picture of dorian gray.

in both texts, damage visited upon the soul - and, indeed, damage visited upon the soul in pursuit of immortality - is visited upon the face [although in dorian's case, this damage is confined to the portrait, while his flesh-and-blood self lives behind a mask of false youth and beauty]. at the end of the novel, dorian - horrified at the portrait's appearance - resolves to mend his ways, but only does so half-heartedly [by deciding that not seducing a woman he feels nothing for is enough to cancel out murder and driving two people to suicide], which causes no change to the portrait. in a fit of rage, he destroys the portrait rather than attempting true repentance. this kills him, and when his body is discovered his appearance is the monstrous one of the painting. that is, he - like voldemort - finally has to wear the damage to his soul on his face.

from which we can reasonably suppose that the impact of true repentance on the soul would reflect similarly on the face. voldemort being returned to his former humanity - then - would be the proof [since, as we've seen, he wouldn't need to prove his remorse through works or words] that his repentance was genuine and he had - again, only in the theological sense of the word - been forgiven.

but he's still going to be thrown in azkaban, or hurled through the veil, or die on the spot even if he's pretty again. it doesn't change anything about what he's done on earth.

what it changes is his experience in the afterlife.

the text approaches the possibility of voldemort's remorse very interestingly. by which i mean, it presents it not just as a purgative act, but as a quasi-baptismal one.

the wizarding world canonically has two stable spheres of existence - life and afterlife. there's no suggestion in canon that this afterlife attaches a moral price to admission - that is, it doesn't seem to function as [the christian] heaven, and nor does there seem to be an in-universe version of [the christian] hell - but it does require something: an intact soul.

in between these two spheres is a liminal space - the theshold between life and death which appears to harry as king's cross. this threshold exists so that the newly dead [those who aren't harry, whose experience is unique, at least] can make a choice - to move on to the afterlife or to return to the sphere of the living as a ghost.

there's some implication in canon that it takes some people longer to accept the need to move on to the afterlife than others - and so there's some sense of the threshold serving a similar purpose to purgatory, and serving as an intermediate space in which an intact soul sheds all the baggage it's carried with it from life before it settles happily into death.

but in voldemort's case, it represents something very different... limbo.

and, specifically, the limbo of infants.

this term refers to the permanent - rather than liminal - sphere in which the souls of unbaptised babies linger, unable - since they've never been cleansed of original sin via baptism, but also haven't committed any sins of their own [since, y'know, they're babies] - either to access heaven or to be condemned to hell.

within the metaphysics of canon, then, voldemort's mutilation of his soul has a similar impact to the state of unbaptism. it prevents him from moving across the threshold between life and death, thus causing him to get stuck forever - in a baby-like form! - in the liminal space of king's cross.

and this is fascinating.

as deathly hallows reaches its climax, the themes and tropes the doylist narrative draws upon are overtly christian. harry freely chooses to die for the salvation of the world, rises again from the dead, and then protects anyone who believes in him from coming to harm at voldemort's hands with the supernatural force of his love. numerous other characters have arcs in the final book which have similarly christian overtones - lily as the virgin mary [who crushes the serpent's head, before her son defeats him entirely], dumbledore as john the baptist [who teaches and guides harry-as-christ, but is subordinate to him in greatness], and ron as st peter [who abandons harry-as-christ and then returns to him].

but - crucially - its christian tropes are not simply christian. they are protestant.

and voldemort - as much as his christian-literature archetype is satan [hence all the snake imagery] - is approached by the text, especially when it comes to the text's treatment of his horcruxes, with christian allegories which are catholic.

the horcruxes are relics, and his belief that they - rather than faith in the power of love as the text understands it - will save him is delusional. jkr has heavily implied in several interviews that they are created via a cannibalistic ritual - which calls to mind the doctrine of transubstantiation in the catholic eucharist. there are seven of them, just as there are seven sacraments in the catholic church, since voldemort believes seven to be the most powerful magical number - something he's wrong about, since the seven-fold power of his horcruxes is nothing in the face of harry's faith in the trinity of the hallows. and his clinging to them condemns him to a post-death state which calls the limbo of infants - which, while not official catholic doctrine, is a hypothetical concept only catholic theology entertains; all mainstream protestant and orthodox denominations reject it entirely - to mind.

it's a really interesting example of what both the doylist and watsonian texts believe him to have transgressed through the creation of horcruxes.

because, of course, he's not condemned to limbo for the sin of murder, he's condemned to it because he puts his faith in something other than faith [or love] alone.

[aerchivez]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 iced hojicha w/ oat milk : nanami kento !

synopsis : after work coffee pick-me-ups are never optional. you and nanami never miss your mandatory weekday cafe dates and trinket shopping!

note : ahhh ! thank you guys so much for your love for the first one i posted !! so fun to write short stories like these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა also i keep seeing the nitro bar on my tiktok and i feel like nanami LOVES a mean double shot latte or an iced americano if he’s feeling a bit groovier… ok im dun 👍

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

in your relationship with your boyfriend, “opposites attract” is definitely applicable.

nanami kento, a finance bro with a minimalistic approach in life. you, a maximalist in every way.

clink clink clink…

nanami looks at the direction where he heard the very distinctive sound that his girlfriend’s bag made. “kento! hi baby!”

yup, that’s his girlfriend alright. “hi, my love. did you decide on a new matcha combo today?” you and nanami never miss an after work coffee pick-me-up and an occasional browse on the cutesy apothecary who sells the cutest bits and bobs ever.

“hmm, i’m playing it safe today and get a dirty matcha. i take it you’re getting an iced americano?” nanami only ever orders a latte or an iced americano and in contrast to your “crazy” orders like a blueberry corn milk matcha, you can’t help but giggle a bit.

“actually, i’m getting an iced hojicha.” you gasp at his order, usually you’d have to FORCE him to get him to try a new kind of drink but he’s definitely feeling the good vibes and amazing weather today.

“purr, okay king sass… an iced hojicha then!” you order both your drinks and there’s never a day you try to pay buy nanami always beats you to it.

“thank you baby, but your coffee is always on me.” nanami never fails to make your heart soar everyday.

nanami kento loves so meticulously. he remembers every single thing you love and hate, all your little habits and quirks, and there’s nothing more satisfying to him when he sees the little dimples on your face forms when you smile at him.

though he doesn’t really get the point of trinkets and the cute little collectibles you’re obsessed with, he buys a couple of blind boxes or keychains that remind him of your ‘cuteness’.

you reciprocate the sentiment by sprucing up his apartment bit by bit. when you first met nanami, his bedroom had a bed and a side table.

that’s it, just those two. it actually drove you crazy and decorated WAYY before you guys started dating. it was dead (applicable to his whole apartment) and your presence definitely livened it up.

back to the present, the barista handed over your drinks and it was impossible not to take a picture of nanami to commemorate such day. the both of you sit on the outside area of the café with the prettiest graffiti.

“ken, i have to take your picture and frame this! and ooh, put it in a locket!” nanami poses for the photo and took his phone out to take a picture of you as well.

“how will the locket be completed without you? smile for me, my love.” you pose for photo as well and ran to his side to give him a peck on the cheek.

unbeknownst to you, he captured that cute little moment and since you were a bit later than usual, nanami had the time to grab a couple boxes of new Sonny Angel hippers from your favourite store.

your eyes light up when nanami revealed his little surprise from his briefcase. “i hope i get the crocodile.” usually, his face looks very calm, but he actually looks so excited for this little hipper.

“the hamster is beyond adorable!” you head back to your seat and both of you hurriedly open the blind box. you pout a bit since yours was clearly not the hamster and you can see nanami with a shocked (loosely using the term) face.

“baby, switch.” you were gonna give yours to nanami anyways so you immediately switched.

you gasp. “baby! you got the hamster! gosh she’s so cutesy!”

“and you got me the crocodile.” none of you wasted time and immediately stuck this at the back of your phones. although admittedly, nanami found it bulky but he found it cute first so it’s definitely staying.

“it’s lovely day today, kento.” you smile at him. he extended his arm to you and took the petal in your hair that flew.

“you always make it lovelier.”

[rnakamura22]

22 nights

Yu hurried over to Ramshackle dorm to pack her things. Grim was with Ace and Deuce in homeroom, and it was the perfect timing to gather her things.

"What happened Yu?" the slim ghosts asked.

"The headmaster found my way back home!" Yu said happily with a smile on her face.

"Really? What a surprise! But that's great! "the tiny ghost smiled as he moved toward Yu.

"What about little Grim? Have you told him about this?"

"No, Grimm is with Ace and Deuce taking classes for last week's failed test."

"Well.. better run fast. It won't be good news if Grimm spilled the beans about your return.." said the smallest ghost.

"Why? It won't be a problem right?" Yu asked.

"Not knowing enough is a trouble too..." the three ghosts whispered among themselves. The ghosts thought of Yu as their granddaughter they never had... and knew what Yu's classmates and upperclassmen thought about her.

But the ghosts were kind. They knew what Yu wanted best, and had no thoughts about giving it.

"Before you go.. We want to give you something." The fat ghost said as the other two guided Yu to one of the rooms in the Ramshackle dorm that were never used.

The fat ghost opened one of the dusty drawer boards to find an old antique box, decorated with several jewels that was covered in dust. Inside, there was a golden locket in the shape of a clock, the surface with 22 numbers instead of 12 along with a transparent jewel.

"Take this with you, it will protect you for sure."

"It's beautiful... but what will it protect me from?"

The ghosts looked at each other's faces. They knew what would happen if those kids found out about Yu being gone. Also, they thought about the cunning headmaster having something up his sleeve about transporting Yu to another world. But the ghosts chose to not say anything about them.

"It is like a good-luck charm... it will protect you from evil."

"Really...thanks!" Yu said with a smile just like a blooming flower.

The ghosts also smiled at Yu. They couldn't get enough of her either. Even though they were sad to see her go, they only wished for her happiness.

"Thank you so much for everything! I won't forget you!"

Yu smiled as she ran out the door with her luggage, not knowing what horror was to come.

[obsidianpen]

Makes large, pleading eyes at the unpublished Harry/Hermione/Voldemort oneshot.

...would it be possible to get a snippet of this? Only if you're comfortable, of course! The premise had me hooked

Hermione had just taken the first sip of her tea, feeling the tension in her shoulders finally ease a bit, when she noticed it.

Harry was tapping his leg with his finger.

It shouldn’t have meant anything. He was just sitting on the ground, crossed-legged, re-reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard for perhaps the fiftieth time, one arm propping up his head while the other rested on his thigh…

Tapping.

It was an entirely innocuous gesture, except that it wasn’t. 

Hermione knew Harry. She knew his every mannerism, his every nervous tick, his every tell. She knew that when he was anxious, he ran his hand through his hair like he was trying in vain to flatten it. When he was secretly afraid but acting brave despite it, he would jut his chin out and clench his jaw so tightly his muscles visibly tensed. In their fifth year, he developed the habit of clenching his hand when he was mad, making the words etched into his skin stand out: I must not tell lies.

He didn’t tap. Ever.

Right hand, middle finger. 

Last night’s dream flashed before her, its toxic bright colors making her feel feverish and dizzy. Tom Riddle, sitting so casually, so indolently in the landscape of her own subconscious, a parasite in her mind. Tom Riddle, looking so young and handsome, but with a razor sharp smile that did nothing to conceal the monster within, because it was no secret to either of them, what he was. Tom Riddle and his dark eyes and darker voice, dangerously soft.

You have no idea what I’m doing to Harry.

Tom Riddle, Voldemort, staring right at her with those pitiless black eyes… tapping.

Right hand, middle finger.

Hermione watched the movement coming from Harry as though she was watching some kind of timer, a detonator that was counting down, slowly. Harry was a bomb that might explode at any moment. 

Hermione set her tea down. She took a deep breath, then forced herself to speak in a calm voice.

“Harry,” she said. He looked up, but otherwise didn’t move. Tap, tap, tap. “Can I see the locket?”

Harry arched one brow at her, then gave her a weak smile and shook his head. “No way. You had it all night. I’ve barely started my shift.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione said, and she could hear the nervousness creeping into her voice. Tap, tap, tap. “I feel really good today, and I think—I could pull a double. Give you a bit of a break.” 

She laughed, and damn it all of it didn’t sound painfully fake. 

Harry noticed. “It’s okay, ‘Mione,” he said slowly. “I’m fine. Really.”

Tap, tap, tap.

Oh, bollcks. Hermione cleared her throat and tried again. “I would really appreciate it if I could see it,” she said. “I'd rather wear it when I’m feeling up for it and take a break later, you know?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed in a way that Harry’s eyes rarely did. “If you can’t handle it later, I’ll just keep it on then too,” he said. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you need to add more to your plate now, just because… because we don’t have… Now that it’s just the two of us. I’m fine. It’s fine.”

He looked away from her, returning his focus to the book with a bitter expression on his face—a clear signal that, for him, this conversation was over.

His finger never stopped tapping. 

Hermione decided to throw all caution to the wind and be direct. She had to get that locked off of him, and she had to do it now.

“Harry,” Hermione said firmly. She walked over to him, hovering directly in front of where he sat, and extended her arm. “Give me the locket.”

Harry looked up, his eyes widening in shock at her sudden frostiness. 

Tap, tap, tap.

“Hermione, I just said—”

“Give me the locket!”

Hermione whipped out her wand, panic seizing her. She didn’t yet point it at him, but she was prepared to. “Give it to me, now!” she shouted. 

Harry jumped to his feet and took a few hasty steps away from her, sending the book flying across the room as he did. “Hermione!” he yelled. “What has gotten into you?”

“Give me the locket!” Hermione demanded again. “Now, Harry! Don’t make me hex you!” 

She jutted her wand at him, making  sparks crackle in the air. Harry’s focus went from the tip of her wand to her face and back again, he had both hands raised defensively, and—and Hermione swore she saw something flickering there, in his eyes, something burning with rage, something red—

But then Harry was pulling the locket off from around his neck. “Sheesh! Okay, okay!”

He offered her the heavy golden chain, which Hermione snatched up at once. Harry then backed further away from her like he was afraid she might hex him anyway.

Not that she could blame him. Hermione was certain that she’d sounded like a crazy person with how she’d snapped for seemingly no reason. 

Hermione pocketed her wand. “Thank you,” she said curtly. “I… I’ll be outside. I need some air, and…”

She didn’t bother finishing her sentence. Harry only nodded, keeping a safe distance from her as she marched out of the tent. 

Begrudgingly, Hermione put the locket on once she was out, far away from the tent's entrance. It filled her with a familiar, immediate sense of dread. Wearing that locket was horrible, but she’d had to get it off Harry, she’d had to. She shouldn’t ever give it back to him. Hermione lifted it up, examining the glittering emeralds that housed a sliver of the world's most deranged soul.

The real question was, of course, how long could she keep it on herself, in an attempt to keep it off of Harry? Considering what it did to her when she wore it… especially when she was asleep.

You have no idea what I’m doing to Harry, he’d said. But if you don’t get out while you still can… you just might find out. 

[blvdymary]

𐙚 - ⊱♰ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !!♰ ⊰

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𐙚 Aesthetics. !! 𐙚 interact to be in the taglist !! 𐙚 mutuals? 𐙚 Requests !!

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!! I ONLY USE TUMBLR TO POST MY WRITINGS, SO PLEASE REPORT THE ONES YOU SEE ON OTHER PLATFORMS !!

Thomas Shelby

Pretty White Dress (angst)

𐙚 Thomas meets a foreign beauty while trying to get over his former wifes’ death.

Secret (darkfic, fluff & angst) !spy reader! !mentions of death, murder!

𐙚 Being a spy sent to kill Thomas Shelby didn’t go well…but in the end you are happy.

First Love (fluff & drabble)

𐙚 Loving someone you’re not supposed to might not go as bad as they say.

Evening Party (fluff)

𐙚 Meeting the blue eyed stranger who makes your heart flutter.

Silence (darkfic & angst)

𐙚 He only cared about himself, leaving you to rot away.

Lying Love (angst & lovers to strangers) !young&old tommy and reader!

𐙚 You need his sinful love to surround you while you slowly crumble into pieces.

Locket (angst, fluff & friends to strangers)

𐙚 This is what makes us girls, loving people you shouldn’t.

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You (fluff)

𐙚 Can’t take his eyes off you.

It’ll Pass (angst & lovers to strangers)

𐙚 He is in the past, just forget about him. But how could you when all you can think about is him?

Office Hours (fluff)

𐙚 Your annoying boss and his annoying behaviour.

OC!!

Lying Is A Sin (Infidelity & drabble)

𐙚 Can a man really avoid who he truly is for the sake of love?

Jonathan Crane

Favour ||pt. 1|| (darkfic)

𐙚 Your annoying boss decides firing you, or you could do him a favour and keep your job.

One Day (angst, friends to strangers & fluff) !mentions of abuse!

𐙚 “Don’t make promises you can’t keep” you trusted him not to but it seems like he was like the others.

Nightmares (angst, fluff & drabble) ‘hurt/comfort’

𐙚 Comforting him from his dark nightmare about his past.

Piece Of My Past (angst & fluff/comfort) !mentions of SA!

𐙚 Holding trauma to yourself might not be the best idea but what were you supposed to do? They wouldn't believe you. Now here you were, in an asylum for the things that never happened by you but to you.

Tom (the party)

Addiction (angst, infidelity & drabble) !substance abuse!

𐙚 You watched your husband become a different man for his own good, while leaving his past on you forever.

Robert Fischer

I Don't Like You, I Love You (angst, fluff & friends to enemies to lovers)

𐙚 Robert Fischer, who was once your childhood best friend, becomes an enemy because of you guys' parents. Ten years later, both your parents decide it would be for the best for both of you to marry and save the broken bridge between both your family.

Tore Me Apart (Angst & infidelity)

𐙚 Oh, to be loved the way you love.

Neil Lewis

Stranger In A Band (fluff) !male reader!

𐙚 Someone being in a band AND being into movies? Was Neil in heaven?

J Robert Oppenheimer

Robert Capa

Lenny Miller

Warehouse (enemies to lovers & fluff) !spy reader!

𐙚 Sneaking in went wrong, now you have to face him.

Jackson Rippner

Past Mistakes Catching Up (darkfic) !murder threats!

𐙚 You can’t escape him, even if you tried.

Tom Buckley

Raymond Leon

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

[bannanasrus]

Should have picked a different Apartment

Contains Unwilling M/M vore with implied digestion

Going into the apartment that gave the thief bad vibes in the first place was the thief’s first mistake knocking over a vase was the second.

“Hell” cursed the thief hopping against hope, that no one had heard the crash of the vase.

Unfortunately for him the owner of the apartment had heard it, and very casually walked into the kitchen from the bedroom. “Can I help you” he asked in a polite manner that never the less held a threat.

“Oh hell”

“Indeed”

“Stay back I’m armed” warned the thief

“I quiver with fear” replied the owner a shark toothed grin spreading over his face

The thief swallowed, he hadn’t considered how big this guy really was when he’d made that threat but, taking him all in - he was about twice as wide as he was, and nearly a foot taller.

“Don’t even think about calling the cops!” He said attempting to gain some kind of control over the situation.

“Goodness me no” said the owner “I would never drag law enforcement here to deal with something so trivial”

“I’m trivial?” Asked the thief angrily in spite of his fear, yes he did have a reputation to uphold, in spite of the fact that he was currently frozen in fear.

“Yes” replied the owner “In a few hours, maybe a bit longer, you won’t be here” he considered something “Unless you want to get out right now that is, and save me the trouble”

“Hey! I think you’ve gotten mixed up with who is making the demands here!” snapped the thief. Less angry and more… huffy.

“Oh you are quite correct” replied the owner still smiling all the while - the same shark toothed calm smile.

“So, are you gonna give me all your money?” said the thief. It wasn’t actually a demand, it was a question. He really would have preferred to just get out of here, but his pride demanded that he at least make the attempt to leave here with some kind of valuables to put in his bag on the Balcony.

The owner stepped from the shadows, into an area that was bathed in moonlight and, shit thought the thief he really was Big, not big with a small b, but Big with a big B. He had short brownish hair which sat in a quiff, blue eyes, very lightly tanned skin, and it was impossible to not note his physique - he was positively herculean - the dressing gown he was wearing was only highlighting the thick round of his pecs which were visible at the top, and each of his thighs were as thick as a tree trunk - well maybe not literally but metaphorically yes!

“Is this a hold up?” he asked inquisitively still smiling “If it is, I feel the need of introductions, since we might be here a while - my name is Cecil”

“I won’t tell you mine!” replied the thief

“Very well” replied Cecil and thief could have sworn he added under his breath “It’s not as though food needs a name”

“Well I was just going to - ” quick as it had been said Cecil had moved forward at speed closing the distance between them, looming over the thief who gulped in fear again - he really didn’t want to see what this guy was going to do to him.

“Go?”

“Um”

“I wouldn’t like you to come all this way for nothing”

“No no, I want you to let me go”

“You know, I realised you looked familiar - though granted with those balaclavas every thief looks similar, but your build well that’s very distinctive - you robbed this building before didn’t you” his voice suddenly became very dangerous

The thief did remember it had been a few nights ago - an old lady’s apartment she had gotten up tried to take him, and he’d pushed her to the ground then he’d robbed her apartment. Not that there had been that much to take, only an antique necklace with a locket, it had been a waste though - too distinctive to get anything for it.

“Your silence, whether of fear or guilt is very confirming” said Cecil “Luckily for you, she isn’t dead” not thought Cecil that that’ll change your fate “But you did steal something of great sentimental value to her, a necklace, with a locket, made of gold?”

His and his boyfriend’s neighbour was an old, old lady who had once had to flee her home - the only treasure she had from it was in a necklace her parents gave to her as a child it contained a locket inside of which was a series of small locks of hair from her siblings. “Uh yeah” said the thief nervously, really regretting shoving that old lady now.

“Where is it?”

“In my bag”

“Which is where?”

“Oh the balcony”

Cecil moved to look at the dark balcony and saw the idiot thief attempting to lunge at him with a heavy lamp.

A few things happened in quick succession: first, Cecil dodged the swing, second the thief stumbled backwards losing his footing and finally third Cecil lunging forward like a python wrapped his huge arms around the thief opened his mouth wider than should have ben possible and shoved him headfirst into his mouth.

The thief shrieked in surprise and started kicking his legs trying to get out, but he was doomed Cecil slurped trying to see if any flavour came off of his meal. He disliked eating people like this he could never be sure that they were really clean, but oh well he was doing his part to keep crime off the street, and only part of his muscle came from the cheat of devouring people There was also the issue that clothes stood in the way of tasting the guy properly, there wasn’t much meat on him anyway. Sometimes - infact most of the time he preferred them this way - lean and mean easy to subdue though they still kicked up a storm in his gut speaking of which.

Angling his head back to help gravity do the rest he grabbed the socks and shoes off of the thief's feet and tossed them to the one side. In a few seconds the thief was curled in the stomach of Cecil whose dressing gown came loose exposing his tan thief filled gut and who let out a loud deep belch and moaned.

“you ate me, you actually ate me!!” Yelled the thief

“You tried to kill me with a lamp buddy” said Cecil

There were footsteps and in stepped Blake who merely sighed at Cecil’s gut. Whilst Cecil sat down on the sofa and spread his legs - the better to accommodate the expanse with.

“hey darling, said Cecil grinng at Blake who walked into the room and sat beside him

“it’s the middle of the night” replied Blake grumpily

“hey I didn’t choose what time this ruffian decided to perform home invasion!” Said Cecil cheerily

“you are way too upbeat at all times” grumbled Blake as he reached out with one hand and began rubbing Cecil’s stomach coaxing up another belch

“You are way too good at this” sighed Cecil dropping his head back and wrapping an arm around Blake’s torso pulling him against the dome of flesh that bulged occasionally with the struggles of its unwilling occupant in spite of himself Blake grinned and began rubbing with both hands as he shifted himself to straddle Cecil earning him a grunt of surprise and a belch as Cecil placed a hand on either side of Blake to keep him there. Blake leaned forward and tenderly kissed Cecil on his lips Cecil responded by wrapping his arms more firmly about Blake and giving a small moan of pleasure as Blake’s hands continued to massage him feeling as though he had found a good sized pocket of air Blake leaned away from Cecil as a gurgle starting in his stomach rapidly made it’s way up and out of Cecil’s mouth who had been sitting there eyes slightly heavy lidded

“Bouarrrrrrp” he moaned and Blake immediately fell back upon him “You are so so hot when you are like this” he whispered in Cecil’s ear “all full and belching” Cecil loved the praise from his gorgeous Boyfriend but…

“I’m hardly full” he replied “in fact I could scarf down 2, 3 more of these guys no problem” he whispered in Blakes ear he belched again smaller this time yet he chuckled as he saw Blake blush and giggle “in fact I still could do with another snack” he bit gently on Blakes ear relishing how it made Blake tingle all over “For some reason whenever I eat you - I feel at my fullest, my belly stretched to the max like I’ve eaten a full buffet plus some assholes that bother us on the way home - all of that just from you stretching me out” his voice was filled with desire, but it softened to gentle tenderness “all that from just you - my favourite 5 star meal”

“Cecil…” said Blake his hands moving from Cecil’s gut to his face “you are the most beautiful man” he kissed him moaning as Cecil’s hands began to grip his body until they were interrupted by a voice from Cecil’s gut

“Ewww, excuse me if you are going to, engage in activities then show me some respect and let me out”

“How are you still alive?” asked a gobsmacked Blake to Cecil’s gut “That last belch should have taken you to the Flats in the sky” he looked at Cecil who was similarly surprised

“Wait what the hell?” Yelled the thief

“Hey buddy good food shouldn’t talk” snapped Cecil annoyed that his time with Blake was being taken up by this asshat.

“I’m not food” shrieked the thief shoving violently against Cecil’s stomach walls

“Stop speaking and squirming” Said Cecil “Squirming’s all well and good at the start really gets me going - but after a while it’s just like shut up accept your fate and digest”

“You’re going to digest me?!!!” Shrieked the thief kicking again more violently

“Stop that” groaned Cecil grasping his stomach and belching again Blake slid off of his lap and onto the floor. It was surprisingly painful getting kicked - usually it didn’t hurt this much

“Hell no, Let me out - you can’t do this”

“You shouldn’t have broken into our Flat buddy”

“I am not your Buddy” yelled the thief shoving again at Cecils stomach walls this time actually hurting him more than quite a bit, damn it felt like getting stabbed - please tell me he didn’t actually have a weapon he thought to himself

“Ow” he whined “stop”

“Ha ha ha ha” not so confident now are you - you stupid greedy musclebound glutton”

“Stop hurting him” snapped Blake getting off the floor and ramming both hands onto the squirming mass Blake may not have had the ability to devour people and turn them to mush - but he certainly had the power to deliver a fierce push the thief yelped as we felt the shove and Cecil let out a loud rumbling belch. “BOUARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP Damn” ,he said “I must have gulped down a lot of air with that guy”. His hands returned to a much less engorged stomach.

“Would explain why he lasted so long and how despite being so scrawny he was able to give you such a bloat” said Blake whose own hands were on each of Cecil’s broad shoulders and were tracing down each of his biceps.

“Yeah” sighed Cecil “I mean he wasn’t so much scrawny as lean and thin”

“How did he taste” asked Blake

“Not of too much” replied Cecil “I was more eager to get him down than to taste him” Blake’s hand returned to and rubbed Cecil’s stomach feeling the lumps were moving weakly but not for much longer he thought

“Blake” asked Cecil

“Yes”

“Can you check the balcony please? This guy said he left his bag with Miss Olgania’s Locket in it”

“I will do that once I’m sure he can never rob Miss Olgania or us or anyone ever again” said Blake leaning forward and kissing Cecil

“Mmmmm” moaned Cecil moving forwards “My gut, my muscles - the most secure prison”

”Just right” Replied Blake smiling as his hands returned to his stomach.

Miss Valecia Olgania was aged somewhere in her seventies though she would never admit it insisting that she stopped aging at 39! She had grey hair pulled into a bun at the back of her head and wore a patterned black and white skirt and a pink top.

Upon hearing a knock at her door she moved over to it and after checking the spy-hole and seeing that it was her downstairs neighbours Cecil and Blake she unlocked, unchained and opened the door with a smile.

“Miss Olgania, it is our pleasure to return to you the locket that was stolen by the thief” said Cecil presenting the locket which was indeed within the black bag that the thief had said it was in, alongside several other presumably stolen goods which they had handed over the the police.

“Oh you really both are the kindest gentlemen!” Said Miss Olgania gladly taking the locket in her hands and holding it to her chest

“We just do our part for the community” Said Cecil

“and you are a part of it Miss Olgania” added Blake smiling

“But how did you get it back?!” Said Miss Olgania slightly puzzled - but only slightly.

Cecil laid a hand over the slight increase in thickness in his abs that was the only indication of his meal “let’s just say that he won’t be bothering you or us again any time soon.”

Miss Olgania simply smiled and laughed “Well all I can say is thank you my dears, and an invitation to my humble abode for a most ordinary meal is most certainly in order!” She invited them in and closed the door bustling over to where her calendar hung on a small hook and pulling it off, shall we say Friday night between 5 and 6?”

“That sounds wonderful said Cecil”

“Concurred” said Blake grinning

“And while we’re here why not have a cup of tea?”

“why not indeed” they chorused - after all who would refuse a cup of tea from such a nice lady?

Well I know someone who might but since he’s now part of someone who would never do so - I think we can leave him out!

Thank you so much for reading if you’ve made it this far

I very much hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments about grammar and spelling and punctuation would be very very welcome - I would much rather know if I’ve made a stupid mistake than not know!

[ennn]

Finale predictions for Agatha All Along

Time to lock in your bets! Here's what I guess/expect will happen based on shots from trailers/promos. 'Tis in good fun and some of these I'm definitely more confident about than others -- under a cut because this post is a long one:

The Earth trial in episode 8 is focused on Billy because he is part of the coven. I expect it to tackle the question raised of "Am I Billy or am I William?" I mean, we know he's both but I'm sure they'll execute a dramatic answer. I'm guessing Agatha's grabbing his head for a spell to unlock his suppressed memories and power.

The trial should still have a heavy death theme (the characters emerge from body bags when entering the area). Someone (apologies i forgot who) mentioned that it makes sense because Billy should be dead and in the earth. The danger of the trial is being buried alive.

At some point during the trial I guess Agatha tells Billy and Jen something about Nicky as there's a promo shot with her holding the locket open and saying "death". I assume both Billy and Jen hear this as there seems to be only one big cell of a room. Yay coven bonding time!

I guess we'll get a split of Agatha backstory flashbacks across Episode 8 and 9. I do expect an Agatha and Rio flashback kiss happening in 8 and flashbacks would make sense if Agatha's telling her story to the two of them during 8.

So, we know from ep 7 that there are ways to leave the Road without completing it.

Given we get a shot of Jen crawling out of the ground at what looks like the outskirts of Westview near the town sign, I'm guessing Agatha's going to get Jen and Billy off the Road before the End by tricking or outmanoeuvring them somehow (credit to @trickofthelights for this idea by the way).

Agatha's actually trying to keep them safe from Death but they'll think she's a manipulative asshole (just when they were bonding!). I call it the Bad Wolf / The Parting of the Ways plot thing.

Before they split Billy gets a clue of what Agatha's up to when his mind-reading power unexpectedly kicks in – the setup I talked about here. Either Agatha is too distracted in the moment to shield her mind or she deliberately does so to give him a hint.

There's also a promo shot of Billy doing his blue magic over what looks like the entrance to the Road. He's wearing different clean clothes so I guess he and Jen have been out of the Road long enough to clean up and probably work out what Agatha's really up to. I'm guessing Billy's doing something to help Agatha or influence the Road. He's emotional enough that his magic kicks in. Probably where he suits up as Wiccan.

Agatha and Rio face off in the final "battle" and Agatha gets absolutely wrecked because throwing hands with Death with zero powers ain't gonna work any better the second time.

I doubt the fight will be a straightforward one, even after Agatha gets her powers back. Schaeffer doesn't like simple, black-and-white conflicts. See: the Black Widow movie and Wandavision where even Agatha who was really being self-serving made valid points.

And I don't think Death herself can be defeated in a conventional sense. As a genre-savvy rule, even if you are able to, binding or trapping or hindering a personification of Death is usually a bad thing (can you believe I looked up the recent Puss in Boots movie for further validation on this). You shouldn't mess with Death because it messes with the natural order and witches are supposed to be rooted in nature.

My guess is with Rio some kind of balance needs to be restored, Agatha owes some kind of debt that needs to be paid – before the Road can give her what she needs. This goes back to the initial concept Schaeffer had before Rio of a "debt collector".

I'm also still hanging onto my theory that something is up with that crystal gem thing Death looks to be holding now but was previously wearing. What is that in her left hand?

[cherrygirlfriend]

some of my best friend rafe cameron headcanons

warning: nsfw, minors dni!! my brain is just best friend rafe brainrot i'm so down bad for him <333 these are some headcanons i have for the best friend rafe blurbs and fics i've been writing !!! the sfw and nsfw headcanons are separated by the divider :)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ SFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ you've been best friends since childhood. he'd do anything for you.

ʚɞ spoils the hell out of you. he'd do ANYTHING to make you happy, buys you all the things you want, you text him that you're having a bad day BOOM there's three hundred dollars in your bank account.

ʚɞ whenever you're on your period he comes over with all your favorite things and reluctantly cuddles you (but grumbles about it) even though you know he secretly likes it.

ʚɞ he can't stand it when you're ignoring him. spams you with texts and calls. sometimes you block him and he deadass shows up behind your door begging for forgiveness and then fucks you until you cry <3

ʚɞ also whenever you're mad at him for some dumbass shit he does (bc let's face it he's a grade a dumbass sometimes) he thinks he can bribe his way out of it but you're just like ... bitch please.

ʚɞ the thing between you started when you drunkenly confessed to him that no guy had ever made you have an orgasm and you could only get off when you were on your own... and rafe was determined to change that (and he did. multiple times that night and the morning after.)

ʚɞ bought you a locket with his initial on the back (on the inside there's a a pic of you two kissing in a photobooth as well as one of you as children.)

ʚɞ you bought a watch for him for his birthday and he wears it every single day. your initials are carved in the back.

ʚɞ has a folder on his phone full of pictures you took together, and of pictures of you. password-protected.

ʚɞ sometimes you read to him and it drives him INSANE. he could listen to your voice for hours and hours on end.

ʚɞ you had always thought he wasn't a relationship person and that's why he didn't want to be official, so when he started dating sofia you had such a bitch fit. wouldn't talk to him for weeks. he tried everything, bribing you, showing up to your house... but eventually you caved in and you guys started fooling around behind her back (against the mirror) and although he feels kinda bad for cheating he just can't resist you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ NSFW ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

ʚɞ pet names. pet names. PET NAMES!!! his go-to are princess, angel, and bunny. one time you called him daddy during sex and he almost blew his load.

ʚɞ loves going raw and coming in you. makes him feel like you belong to him and only him <3 literally had you go on birth control bc you were getting sick of having to get plan b because he was conveniently out of condoms every time you fooled around and he swears he just "accidentally" came in you when he said he'd pull out. you made him promise that he wouldn't go raw with anyone else tho and he doesn't.

ʚɞ really likes missionary bc he loves to see your face when you come it drives him INSANE how pretty you look taking him.

ʚɞ giving him head whenever he's stressed or having a bad day. he returns the favor tho <3

ʚɞ loves taking his time with you but also really likes rushed, messy quickies whenever you're busy.

ʚɞ one time you guys were hanging out with mutual friends and when your dress hiked up, he could see that you'd written his initial on your thigh and it took everything in him to not take you into the nearest bathroom and fucking the hell out of you ... instead he did that right after you two left xxx.

ʚɞ literally takes you to buy lingerie... ON HIS BIRTHDAY... and you try them all out for him later that night and he gets to be the one to take them off. accidentally rips one of the panties he bought for you but he orders a new pair right after <3

ʚɞ chokes you. nuf said.

ʚɞ your phone's wallpaper is actually a pic of his hand around your neck that he took with his signature ring on his finger.

ʚɞ whenever you see him out and about with sofia you accidentally send him a pic of you in lingerie. then you see his eyes widen and later that night he fucks you so hard you leave actual clawmarks on his back.

ʚɞ sometimes he leaves bruises on you, and even though he feels bad about it afterwards it also turns him on like CRAZY. he loves marking you up, and sometimes you end up with hickeys and your friends question where they came from and you just shrug. to them, he's just some mystery hook-up, but they have no idea it's your best friend.

ʚɞ you sometimes let him record you during sex and he watches the videos of you whenever he misses you. has a whole password-protected folder in his phone of your nudes and videos you took together.

[beenbaanbuun]

christmas choi jongho thoughts…

genre: fluffy smut (bullet point form)

words: idk

warnings: loss of virginity, protected sex, christmas celebrations, praise, kissing

so i fully believe that our boy jongho is a gentleman above everything

i’m talking gives you his jacket, buys you flowers, holds your bag, that sort of thing

so when he finds out you’re a virgin, obviously it’s no problem at all

he’s more than happy to wait until you’re ready because again, he’s a gentleman!

he can make do with his hand for a little while

he really doesn’t mind as long as you’re comfortable

and then like 5 months into your relationship, it’s december!

the relationship might have been relatively new so spending actual christmas together was probably a little intense, but christmas eve?

that was practically christmas day: the prequel

the two of you sit there in your apartment in matching pyjamas, two mugs of hot chocolate sitting half drank on the table and a shitty hallmark film playing in the background

the two of you are illuminated by nothing but the lights on your tree as you snuggle together under the fluffiest blanket you could find

you keep sneaking looks at one another, both of you in awe at how the other looks under the multicoloured lights that shine down upon the two of you

the films only half finished when jongho passes you a gift

you look at him confused but he just shrugged

“the films boring, baby,” he grumbles before gesturing to the pristinely wrapped present in your lap, “she’s going to realise she’s made a mistake and run off back to the country boy who can show her ‘what christmas really means’… boring.”

you giggle at his run down of the plot of every hallmark movie ever

then you unwrap the gift

it’s a necklace. a locket to be specific

you open it to see a picture that he must’ve taken in secret: you cuddled up to him in bed, his lips pressed to your forehead as your cheek lay smushed up against his chest

“it’s nothing much… kind of cheesy now i think about it.”

you shut him up with a kiss before passing over your gifts

you passed them back and forth until all that was left was your final gift

it was silly, and now you were kind of doubting whether the gift was perhaps too silly

you pass it over anyway and bite your lip as he rips into the wrapping paper only to find… a box of condoms?

he looks at you with a raised brow and a smirk on his face

“a box of condoms, hm?”

you blush and nod

“they might come in useful…”

“oh, they might?” he chuckles as he studies the box, “how come?”

“don’t make me say it,” you whine, “i gave you the box to get out of saying it…”

he chuckles because how can you be so cute???

like you’ve just passed him a box of condoms and yet he still wants to giggle and blush and kick his feet because you’re absolutely adorable

so he decides to tease you a little just so he can watch you cutely squirm a little more

“but i don’t know what you mean, baby,” you grins at you and you can’t help but swoon at his pretty smile.

the way to corners of his eyes crinkle as he shows his gums AGDJSGDJSGAMDHSJ

he’s just so pretty and you have to do everything in your power to stop yourself from leaning forward and kissing him right then and there

but you somehow manage to hold back

“please do tell me why exactly you bought me this box of condoms…”

even though his teasing is annoying, you can’t help but giggle along

“choi jongho,” you murmur, “i swear i will take my gift back if you don’t…”

“don’t what?” he smirks

it immediately turns into a pout when you try to take the condoms back

he eventually concedes and stops his teasing

decides that kissing you would be much more appropriate for the time and place

it’s soft and sweet and intoxicating

you chase his lips as he pulls away but he just giggles at you before diving in for more

“jongho,” you whisper as you pull away, “do you want to put your present to good use?”

“absolutely, baby.”

and it’s literally the most magical thing because once again…

JONGHO IS A GENTLEMAN

strips you of your pyjamas himself, asking before he removes each piece if it’s okay

in fact, he asks before he does anything just to make sure you’re fully comfortable with everything (gentleman…)

holds your hand throughout the whole thing because he needs to make it romantic

peppers small kisses to your face as he pushes in to distract you from the initial stretch

“you’re doing so well,” kiss on the nose, “so perfect for me, aren’t you?” kiss on the forehead, “like you were made for me…” kiss on the lips

and he’s right. the two of you fit so well together and when he starts to rock his hips back and forth, you can’t help but notice how natural it feels when he slots back into place, cock buried deep inside of you

if he’d had prior warning he definitely would’ve busted out the rose petals and the candles

you lying naked on the sofa with the lights of the christmas tree bathing your bare skin felt right, though

when he realises he’s close, he takes one hand out of yours so he can play with your clit

the pout that forms when his hand slips out of yours is quickly replaced by a gasp of pleasure as he steadily pushes you to orgasm

it takes a moment or two for him to find a rhythm that works in getting you to the edge, but once he does, you reach it pretty quickly

he can’t help but tell you how pretty he thinks your moans are

“you sound so beautiful,” he pushes deep inside of you with shaky thighs, “i wish i could listen to you forever.”

and then, once he’s snugly within you, he cums into his condom and flops down on top of you

snuggles you close as you both dip in and out of dreamland

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Watching Agatha All Along Maiden Mother Crone

AGATHA SPOILERS!!

OH MY GOD I HEAR NATURE IS IT A FLASHBACK

OH MY GOD IT IS!!!!

Oooooooo is she giving birth?! Oh yup🥺

The way she cuts into a lemon to help her muffle her screams(and also keeping herself hydrated) 🥺

RIO?

The way Agatha is stuck and can't move and then Rio just approaches her slowly 😭

"please let him live, please my love!"

😭

Oh, Rio said she could give her some time😭😭😭 that's the special treatment that Agatha got😭

Oh my god😭 oh my god, she made him from scratch 😭 I love her so much more but man that hurts

Because Rio looked truly torn😭

The way Agatha carries him is so fucking cute😭

Aw he's not feeling well 😭😭

Oh no, Agatha is so right to be unnerved by the witches approaching herz they give creepy vibes

Oh nope nevermind they were decent she just ate their power

Nicolas is so cute oh my god😭

Oh man Agatha, you had to have your child become apart of your hustle 😭

The way she's a little bothered by his questions

Aw her little teasing until he changed the tune of the song to include her😭

Oh no🥺 water🥺 I feel like he drowns🥺

I love how they're vibing with the goat

"Use your purple."

"My what?"

"Your purple!" They're adorable

Oh my god the way she says she can't protect him from when Rio will return and then had to turn away as she cried so he wouldn't see😭

Aw, the clips of them making memories while singing is killing me 😭🥺

He reminds me so much of young Billy

Awwww him singing in the bar is so cute oh my god, Agatha pretending to be a stranger

Aw, the way Nicky ran away 😭😭

The way he promises his mom that that they can kill more witches tomorrow 😭 my poor boy

The way he seems worried she's gonna yell at him but instead she starts singing 😭

My poor boy is sick😭 oh no, he's gonna fall asleep but not wake up😭😭😭 I just feel it in my bones

Rio🥺

The way Rio looks like she's holding back tears as she becons him towards her😭

The way she made him go back to kiss Agatha 😭😭

Noooooo my girl is waking up without him there

Wait, no he's still there🥺 but she his body🥺

Oh my god🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭

Her cries break my heart

Her take on the song is heartbreaking and the way she buries her heart with her child makes her ruthlessness in killing witches even more painful

The witches road doesn't exist oh my god👀

I am SCREAMING

That's why she tried to deny the existence of it to Billy oh my god😭

I'm screaming oh my god

Wait, was Agatha just trying to make Billy think she was dead so he would move on👀

I love her outfits so much oh my god

The way she just upped her hustle

I LOVE ALL HER OUTFITS I'M SCREAMING

But that means she killed Alice's mom👀

I love her Rock outfit so much tho

That's why she made Billy go upstairs 👀 she was gonna kill them👀

And why she was so shocked by the door actually appearing oh my god👀

I bet that's when she realized who he may be👀

I am so happy Agatha is alive

Wait what

She's a ghost?

The way she's laughing about being a ghost

She looks like the comic I'm screeching

The way she looks like she wants to touch him or something to comfort him when he's rambling

The way Agatha still doesn't remember Sharon 😂

The way she's trying to offer him comfort, in that he saved a life (Jennifer's)🥺

I really hope Agatha pops up occasionally as a ghost to cause misgeif

The way she admits she was gonna kill them all from day one😂

The way she repeats the words she said to her son🥺

Oooooooooooo he went to Agatha's house🥺

THE BASEMENT 👀

Oh the door is still there👀

Agatha lounging on the washing machine is hilarious 😂 but also what happens to her rabbit

Oh🥺 she is only there cause she wants her locket 👀

The way she's just getting more irritated that he's ignoring her😂

The way she's trying to guess what the magic is😂 she's always getting stumped by Wanda and her kids lol

The way she doesn't want him to banish her🥺 and she's getting upset

Oh my god🥺 the way she managed to knock her locket out of his hand🥺😭 because she can't face her son😭😭😭

Aw man

I really like to think that Rio has been taking care of Nicky on the other side🥺

Aw😭 the way she says that Billy reminds her of him😭

Aw, the way he says she could be his spirit guide 🥺

The way she gives him the warning that she tends to kill her coven members

Aw, he created a shrine in their honor I'm sobbing 😭

Her proud, sad smile😭🥺

OH MY GOD THEY'RE GONNA FIND TOMMY!!!!!!

Ok, I'm ok they killed Agatha because it was just her body they killed.

[thelioncourts]

You may have answered this elsewhere, but what are some of your favorite Jam moments, either in videos or in print? :)

oh, god, there are so many. I'm going to forget all of them, but !

s1 interviews where they talked about texting each other pictures and sam had his photos on live and jacob thought it made him incredibly interesting and they would update each other as they got new fangs in the mail.

their zoom auditions that landed them the roles, the deciding factor really wasn't how they acted as lestat and louis, but how they interacted as themselves with one another.

their date to the vampire boutique to buy vampire things and they bought candles they were supposed to light together but sam, ever the forgetful husband, lit his way before jacob and jacob was Disappointed.

speaking of ever forgetful husband, the reddit q&a where jacob was like 'oh sam is trying to get into the writers room' like the husband that knows everything or when asked about their first scene and sam said one thing, then jacob corrected it, and sam commented back like 'oh yeah jacob is right.'

jacob's teeny tiny teasy pics of sam from sdcc 2022 before any of us knew just how much they were going to ruin us.

"most fulfilling partnership...cREATIVE partnership"

when they got out to the main sdcc 2022 panel and sam was so nervous and jacob gentle started rubbing his back and they looked at each other and sam put a hand on jacob's thigh and AHHH

sticker shop date

l.a. date where they went to universal

walks along the beach in san diego

meeting in the rehearsal room all masked up and whatnot

eric's "the only difference between these two and their characters is that I've never seen these two fight"

jacob saying that sam's hair is really cool when it's put up

sam on ep2 of the iwtv podcast saying that when he met jacob he knew it would be really easy to fall in love with him...

jacob's one interview where he said that the coffin was comfortable when there were two people in it and associating sam's bday with valentine's day

jacob crying as hard as he did during the s1 finale because not only was it the acting, but it was also the acknowledgement that he would be losing this with sam in some way

prague dinner dates every single night........

taking delainey paddleboating in prague

the entire s2 finale reunion and how the mics were cut so they could have that moment, how they didn't really discuss it, how they just know each other as they do and it was them, and it was real

the tv insider jenga game where jacob was like 'what's my favorite snack?' and asking sam and then going 'why am I asking you?' but sam still answered anyway

when they walked up to each other at the s2 premiere for the first time (don't talk to me about it)

the entire s2 premiere, I am not allowed to Speak

the 92ny screening and every teasing little interaction they had on that stage, GOD

the interview where they talked about their dinner in prague and sam chose it as his last meal if he could choose one, even though he didn't like the food that much, but --

how sam said that filming s1ep5 it was so hard to see jacob as he was but jacob tried to alleviate his problems with it and so they have fun videos of jacob spinning and also sam took home his prosthetic eye

the locket bailey made with both sam and jacob's pictures in it and she showed sam and he was like 'oH MY GOD CUTE'

seine river walk, my beloved

clubbing in paris that I'm legally not allowed to talk about

swapping contacts, like who does that, why

sam saying that there's no one he would rather be nude and bleeding with

the paleyfest 2022 interview where bailey was talking about how sweet they are and jacob made the CUTEST face and then was like 'sam. are we best friends?' in the most giggly way and sam was just. so fond, so 'yeah, we're best friends'

in jacob's interview with autumn where she was like 'I tried to get sam to sing when...' and jacob just. fully knowing 'he's not going to do that' in the most deadpan way

the s2 premiere cute interview clips where jacob just goes and lays down and stares at sam (?????)

jacob talking about (during s2) how grateful he was to film with sam and how it felt like home and it was comfortable

the video with delainey where they go through several of the episodes and analyze scenes and they spent way too long giggling about bdsm and just reminiscing

the way any and everyone talks about them, it's so not normal (compliment)

I'm sure there are hundreds more, I'll add to it as I think of things

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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