#i mean. its mostly metal right? so it should be alright hopefully

[beepbeepdespair]

me coming back from draft posting: well that was fu- *blackpool tower is on fire* OH GOOD HEAVENS

edit: STOP THE PRESS IT WAS ORANGE NETTING AHAHAHAHA

[cafeacademia]

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

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A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game  of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow​ @megantje123​ @anchoeritic​ @struggling-bee​​

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Make or Break (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki and the reader are paired up for a mission to sneak into a newly discovered Hydra facility. If they are successful, S.H.I.E.L.D. may promote the reader to allow them on a larger variety of missions.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 6,831

Warnings/Disclaimers: Some cursing, violence, mentions of blood and injury

A/N: I lied on the word count when I posted the excerpt. I touched the text again trying to review for the millionth time.

Masterlist

Leaning back in your seat, you perused the tablet holding the mission information for the fourteenth time. It was supposed to be quick and simple, but it didn’t mean you should be any less prepared. Sneak into the newly discovered HYDRA base, download the data, extract the target and get back to headquarters in one piece. You’re only worry was who S.H.I.E.L.D. paired you with to complete this mission, the god who neglected to attend the briefing. You had worked with Black Widow and Hawkeye before, but that was it. You were a lower-level field agent whose clearance did not allow for you to go on the bigger missions with the other Avengers. No teaming up with super humans, gods or tech wizards for you. Or so you thought.

Your superiors thought it was a great idea for you to tag along with Loki this time. He had been a tentative Avenger for about five years now and was trusted enough to go on solo missions. Even though he could do this mission perfectly well on his own, you knew exactly why you were there. It was a test. You had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. for a few years and were due for a promotion soon, but one you had to prove you were ready for. If everything went well, your ranking would be elevated and you’d be going on the higher priority missions. Loki had unwittingly become the key to success. The rumors were he was notoriously hard to work with, and if a person could successfully complete a mission with him, they were ready to be promoted. However, that rarely happened. Most of the agents Loki had been teamed with wound up either leaving for good or asking for a desk job, regardless of how successful they were.

You lowered the tablet as Loki strode with the grace and confidence of a panther onto the Quinjet. Instead of picking a seat, he came to a halt in front of you. Straining your neck, you kept your gaze up and locked with his. You may have been sitting but the man had no right being so tall. He was absolutely trying to intimidate you, to break you in that moment. You wondered if all the talk about him being difficult were true. Despite both of you working at S.H.I.E.L.D., you had only met in passing. You can’t exactly get a good read on someone’s personality when the only time you see them is at the other end of the hall. The most you two had ever done was a quick nod of acknowledgment before going back to work.

“Agent,” he finally spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Loki,” you nodded like usual.

He took the seat across from you without breaking eye contact. You desperately wanted to return to your tablet. He was turning you into a nervous wreck, but you would not let him know that. Letting your stubbornness win, you kept up the staring contest that could have lasted an eternity. It was only when the Quinjet lifted off that he nodded back, a book appearing with a green shimmer in his hand to steal his attention away from you. Quietly letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you returned to the mission information.

The Quinjet touched down a ways from the HYDRA base in a forest clearing. For the sake of stealth, you had to go on foot for the rest. Reaching the edge of the forest, you and Loki scoped out the area containing what looked like an abandoned building. You knew better though. Your intel suggested there were a handful of basement levels where the HYDRA operatives were working. It also didn’t help that they had tiny, mostly well-concealed cameras around the building. That was the first hurdle.

Crouching in the grass behind the trees, you pulled open one of the pouches on your utility belt for the device you were going to need. Connecting it to the main wiring for the outside cameras would allow you to fake the feed so it would playback only recent footage, preventing their security from seeing you enter. All they could possibly notice is a slight flicker on their screens when the connection was made. With the device in hand and powered up, you looked to Loki. Surely he had seen these before working with the other agents. With a tilt of his head, motioned for you to keep quiet and close. He waved his hands over to two of you, a green mist shrouding you and tingling your face momentarily, and was on the move, stepping out into the clearing.

You tailed Loki as closely as possible without stepping on his heels. He had used some sort of invisibility charm to conceal you both, but you had no idea what kind of distance from him was allowed to keep it working. Reaching the building, you followed Loki around the perimeter until you found the mounted box that acted as the juncture for camera wirings. Running from the bottom of the box into the ground was the main wiring casing. You placed your device on the PVC casing and held it in place as it cut through the tube. When it finished, you pressed the button to lock it in place and waited for it to attach to the right wires, the device flashing green briefly when it finished. Thank the gods for Stark and his technology making things easier.

Locating a side door, Loki opened it a sliver to peer inside before ushering you to slide inside. Once you two were in, he gently pulled the door shut. Unsurprisingly, the area was like an empty warehouse and yet oddly clean. Had the building truly been abandoned, dust and cobwebs would have adorned the tall, industrial shelving and its contents. Slinking through the aisles, you managed to find the elevator with stairs nearby leading to the lower levels. You both silently agreed on the stairs.

Basement floor one was fairly sparse, but still held a few HYDRA agents on patrol. What you needed was probably down a couple of levels for security reasons. It was on the third basement level where things were getting more interesting. There still weren’t many people on this floor, but there was more variety. Men in officer uniforms and lab coats occupied these halls. Loki led the way under the subpar lighting for the next phase. You needed to find a terminal where you could plug in the flash-drive you were assigned and run the program for data extraction.

Spotting one near a large set of imposing doors, you tapped Loki’s arm to point him in the right direction. His reaction was somehow both predictable and surprising. He snapped his head around with an incredulous look on his face like how dare you touch him. Arching an eyebrow, you challenged him and pointed to the terminal console. A touch of tension rippled away from his shoulders as he huffed softly, leading you in the new direction. At the terminal, you inserted the drive and typed in the commands to run the program. As you waited for it to finish, you searched for information on the target’s location. All you had received in briefing and the mission files was the person’s name was Timothy Lawrence. Hopefully, that would be enough to find him in the database.

As you were scanning through anything that could be relevant, you were suddenly snatched away, shoved against the unforgiving metal wall and chest-to-chest with Loki. You were about to protest when you heard footsteps clopping in your direction. Making yourself as small as possible, you flattened yourself against the wall which allowed for Loki to bring himself closer. Although you were still invisible, it was only a visual trick. Sound or touch would shatter the illusion. A scientist and guard rounded the corner, not paying heed to the console, and passed through the doors next to it.

Relaxing slightly when the doors swished shut, you ducked under Loki’s arm to return to the console. You found a list of test subjects, and sifted through the test subject numbers until you stumbled on the one that was close.

Subject: 604

Initials: T.H.L.

Sex: Male

Age: 6

Location: 409

None of the other initials had fully matched the name you were given, so the chances this was the target were slightly more favorable. You closed out your search and the data extraction finished about thirty seconds later. Swiping and tucking the flash drive away safely, you nodded to Loki who immediately headed back to the stairs and brought you down to the fourth basement floor.

While creeping around the lower level to locate the correct room, dread gurgled in your stomach. You had heard of HYDRA’s child experiments, but actually being in its presence was entirely different. The kid was only six. What the hell were they doing to him and why? And did S.H.I.E.L.D. know how old the target was and not divulge that information to you? Wouldn’t that be important? You had to shake your head to bring yourself out of your self-made rabbit hole. Those questions could be answered later. You needed to focus on finding the kid and getting him out.

Loki stopped suddenly, you almost running into him. He gave you a pointed look and rolled his eyes. You had reached your destination. You pressed the button to the side of the door, allowing it to slide open. The room was filled with computers, some life monitoring systems. Those were alongside a table where an unconscious, small boy was strapped down. Loki closed the door and with a snap of his fingers, cancelled the invisibility charm as you made your way to check on the kid. His little eyes shot open upon hearing Loki, pupils dilating with fear and panic.

“Shhh... It’s alright,” you cooed softly, holding your palms out in front of you. “We’re getting you out of here.”

The little boy stilled, confusion transitioning to tentative understanding. That was until he saw Loki. A strangled squeak barely breached his throat. He struggled against his restraints, looking like he wanted to phase through the table to get away. You turned to Loki who held his hands up and backed away, the hurt clearly evident on his face.

“Hey, look at me.” You reached for the boy slowly, but his eyes were still focused on Loki. You cupped his face between your hands. “He’s with me.”

His eyes darted back to you, still scared out of his mind.

“Timothy, right?”

He nodded with tears threatening to soak his face.

“He’s working with the Avengers now. He’s here to help.” You brushed his matted hair away from his sweat slicked forehead. “We are getting you out of here. You’ll be safe, okay?”

He nodded again with a sniffle. You looked back at Loki and waved him over. Making himself as non threatening as he could manage, he stepped to the other side of the table. You two worked on undoing the padded restraints. Once free, you helped Timothy sit up, his arms shaking like a leaf in the wind. How long had he been kept like this? He could barely support the upper half of his body. If if arms were this bad, you didn’t even want to know how badly his legs atrophied.

“Here.” You spun around so your back was facing the table. “I’ll carry you.”

Loki strode over to help Timothy drape his arms over your shoulders and kept him in position as you hooked your arms under his legs to hold him up. Ready to be back on the move, Loki placed his invisibility charm over the three of you. He led you back through the compound only stopping to keep you all from running into HYDRA agents. It wasn’t until you had reached the stairs on the third floor when the alarms went off. You and Loki looked at each other momentarily before booking it. Between the sirens and pounding feet, it’s not like you needed to worry about being quiet anymore.

Dodging various agents sprinting up and down the stairs, you made it to the ground floor which was now filled with armed guards to prevent your escape. Thankfully, they still could not see you, but you needed to get past them to reach any of the doors. Loki pulled you to the side behind some shelving, cloning himself in the process. His now visible clone teleported near the guards who proceeded to fire at it. The distraction allowed you to sneak back out the side door, but the door slamming shut did not go unnoticed. You were almost into the forest when the agents funneled out of the building, showering you with bullets.

With the illusion broken, Loki slowed to place himself in between you and the agents, raising a barrier to stop the bullets. Timothy clung to your suit as tightly as his little hands could, his whimpers barely audible over the gunfire and shouting. The Quinjet was just becoming visible through the trees and brush.

Stumbling once or twice, you glanced back to try to catch his attention. “We’re almost there, Buddy,” you huffed. “Just keep holding on.”

He nodded as he shoved his face in your shoulder. The ramp to the Quinjet lowered as you reached the clearing. Not waiting for it to lock in place, you hopped onto the ledge with Loki hot on your heels. While you settled Timothy into a seat, Loki closed the ramp and informed the pilot to lift off. The cacophony of bullets pinging the jet like clanging pots and pans grew quieter as you took off for home.

You let out a sigh of relief and slumped in your seat, an arm wrapped around Timothy who had curled into your side. The older sibling in you, a roll that had been ripped from you all too early in life, took over as you gingerly carding your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. Being so focused on the kid, you almost missed Loki giving you an appraising look. He was standing near the cockpit, watching you two curiously. With a sudden furrow of his brow, he strode over and knelt next to you.

“You’re injured,” he stated before you could get a word out about his strange behavior.

“What’re you talking about?” You looked down to find a small trail of blood originating from your left calf. That was when you finally felt it. The adrenaline-fueled chase must have fogged up your brain enough for you to not notice you had been shot.

Loki lifted your leg to get a better look, you hissing in pain as he did. You did your best not to squirm so you wouldn’t wake Timothy from his well-deserved rest. Your free hand gripped the edge of the seat. Had you not been wearing gloves, Loki would have seen your knuckles turn white.

Materializing one of his knives, he carefully cut and removed the offending pants leg that blocked his attempt to tend to your wound. “I will need to remove the bullet,” he said, returning to his feet to grab the first-aid supplies.

Grimacing at the thought, you shook your head. “Let’s just throw some antiseptic on it and wrap it. The bullet can wait until we get back.”

“Tch. Stubborn mortal,” he scoffed. “It will only be worse for you if we do that.”

He returned to your side with the supplies. He paused to look up at you and then Timothy. Placing a glowing green palm on the boy’s forehead, he muttered something in an unrecognizable language.

“There. Now he won’t be disturbed for the next few hours.”

Without giving you a chance to protest further, he cleaned your wound before starting on the bullet. Luckily, for both of you, it was not too deep. You still tore off a glove to bite down on in an attempt to not focus on the pain, but it could have been worse. Loki was surprisingly gentle throughout the whole ordeal. Although, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t just use his magic. Had he exhausted his abilities having used them for most of the mission?

A light squeeze to your knee brought you back to reality. Loki had finished wrapping your leg and proceeded to sit himself on the other side of Timothy. You tried to stay awake to keep an eye on the peaceful boy in case he woke up. After several times of you catching Loki watching you and Timothy, you gave up and allowed sleep to overtake you.

Timothy stirred when the Quinjet touched down, your arm still around his tiny frame. Moving to stand and prepare to leave, you felt his fingers dig into your suit, not ready to part from you just yet. Instead, you pulled him into your lap and stood to carry him out, ignoring the leg that caused a slight limp in your gait. As if on cue, his limbs wrapped around you like a spider monkey. Meeting you as you exited the jet was a medical team. A nurse swept in to take Timothy with them to the med bay, but Loki placed himself in front of you. The nurse stepped back fearfully bumping into one of her teammates. The crew looked at a loss of what to do until Agent Hill stepped through the doors.

Sighing, she motioned you inside. “Let’s get him to the medical wing.”

What an odd locomotive you all made moving down the halls. Hill was in lead with you following directly behind her. Loki stayed close to you, a hand ghosting your back between your shoulder blades. The medics were in last as they tried to keep up without getting too close to Loki. Timothy shifted in your arms like he was trying to get more comfortable. Rubbing his back, you pressed forward. What you weren’t able to see was that he kept peering up at Loki with the smallest, shyest possible smile.

Finally reaching the room the medical team was going to perform a checkup on the kid, you set him down on the bed, but he still wasn’t ready to let go. You were able to pull away just enough to see his face. He didn’t seem quite as scared but it was clear he was not fond of the medics. While some wore scrubs, the rest had lab coats that were too similar to the HYDRA scientists.

“They aren’t here to hurt you,” you smiled softly. “They just want to make sure you’re not hurt or sick, okay?”

He released his grip on you and folded his hands in his lap, allowing you to take a step back.

“Would you feel better if we stayed in the room?”

Looking between you and Loki who was currently behind you, he nodded vigorously. You smiled back and moved to lean against the far wall, close enough to see you but not enough to crowd the medics. Loki looked thoughtfully at Timothy who stared back at him with hopeful eyes before joining you.

A couple weeks later, you were at your station, rummaging through emails. You found one about Timmy, as he preferred to be called, being transferred at the end of the month to another facility where other children rescued from HYDRA were residing. At least he would be with kids his own age. Through the tests the medical team had run, it turns out Timmy was enhanced. HYDRA had taken him and his family, but left only him alive when they learned the rest of his family held no mutations. S.H.I.E.L.D. would not divulge to you what his abilities were, but considering how quickly he bonded with you and Loki, you were at least allowed to contact and visit him every so often, something you planned to work into your schedule.

You closed out your emails upon hearing approaching footsteps. Agent Hill was speed walking towards you with a folder in hand.

“Good morning, Agent,” she greeted you with an infectious smirk, holding the folder out to you.

“Good morning, Agent Hill.” You took the folder and checked the paperwork inside. Holding back a squeal, you hugged the folder to your chest. “Really?!”

“Congratulations!”

You bit your lip to contain your excitement. “I wasn’t really expecting this, especially so soon.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be telling you this but...” She sidled up next to you, lowering her voice. “I did read Loki’s report. The partner review section is usually filled with snarky comments and insults. Your’s was different. It was glowing compared to past reports.”

You tilted your head at her in confusion. There was plenty for him to complain about. You were not perfect. Your skills as a field agent were slightly above average, nothing to write home about. There was a lot you could do better.

“There was only one word.”

Arching an eyebrow, you nodded for her to continue.

“Tolerable.”

That was a glowing review?! You had to stop yourself from laughing. You really did not want to know what he wrote about the others.

After the mini-gossip session, Agent Hill left you to continue her other tasks. With a slight bounce in your step, you headed to the break room for some coffee. You were later than usual, but everyone on this floor was usually pretty good about making sure the coffee pot was never left empty. Opening an overhead cupboard, you groaned to yourself. All the mugs were on the higher shelving. Where were the ones that were normally lower? You weren’t sure you could reach even if you stood on your toes, but damned if you weren’t going to try anyways.

“Having trouble, Agent?” a low voice queried from behind startling you.

About to lose your balance, you tried to put yourself back fully on your feet but overcompensated and fell backwards instead. A pair of hands grabbed your shoulders, preventing you from hitting the ground. You righted yourself and spun on your heel to face the trickster.

“Thanks, Loki...”

“You’re quite welcome, Agent.” The way he emphasized “agent” made you nervous. You weren’t sure if it was in a good or bad way.

He reached past you into the cupboard. Grabbing a couple of mugs, he offered you one with a sly smile. “Is this what you needed?”

Of course he could reach with no problems. You cleared your throat as you took one from him. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

Turning back around to face the counter, you started to pour coffee into your mug. Loki slid in next to you and turned on the electric kettle. You caught him watching you from your peripheral vision as you moved to the fridge for creamer. Having added just the right amount, you leaned your back on the counter. You take a sip, the mug a barrier to hide part of your face.

“So... What brings you here?”

He motioned to the tea bag he had pulled from the container on the counter.

You rolled your eyes. “Is that all?” This floor wasn’t even the normal floor he visited. What was he up to?

“Yes, Little Agent,” he smirked. “This break room is much quieter than the one normally inhabited by the beloved Avengers.”

Snickering, you took another sip. “Right, right.”

Knowing he had been caught, he shifted his focus on the water just starting to boil.

You pushed yourself away from the counter. “Well, I need to get back to work. See you around?”

“Indeed, Agent.”

Timmy flew into your arms as you knelt near the ramp of the Quinjet. “You’re going to come visit, right?”

“Promise,” you reassured him with a grin. How this kid managed to bounce back so quickly was beyond you, but seeing him this happy brought a spark of warmth to your chest. This was one of the reasons you joined S.H.I.E.L.D.

He let go and peered around you sheepishly. “Mr. Loki?”

Looking over your shoulder, the mischievous god was leaning back near the door preferring to watch from a distance. He ducked his head to hide the light smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Turning away so Loki couldn’t see, you smiled at their interaction. Who knew Loki could be a softie.

An agent appeared at the top of the ramp, ready to bring Timmy onboard.

“Be good for them, okay?” You ruffled his hair and stood up.

He nodded and hugged you one more time before running off to the agent. He turned back before the ramp closed, giving you and Loki a wave goodbye. With the Quinjet taking off, you spun on your heel and made your way to the door.

“You are much too kind.”

You hand paused on the door handle. “I’m sorry?”

Loki faced you, a scrutinizing look in his eyes. “You are too kind for this line of work.”

“I can handle it, Loki. I have my reasons for being here,” you scoffed, arms folded across your chest.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” He smirked at you and opened the door for you to enter first. “It’s rather refreshing.”

This god really knew how to flip an emotional switch. You just shook your head and proceeded inside, deciding it was better to not stand around argue with him. There was a new mission briefing for the two of you to attend, and you were not about to let him make you late.

Fury kept pairing you and Loki for missions. Sometimes another field agent or Avenger would tag along for support, but for the most part it was just you two. Most of the missions involved as much stealth as possible, but combat was inevitable in some cases. Loki might as well have glued himself to you during those moments. He never left you when a fight broke out, going so far as to stand between you and the shots fired in your direction. Guess he found a little more than “tolerable”.

Even outside of the missions you wound up spending time together. With the promotion, your work station had been moved to the same floor as the Avengers which meant you also shared the break room and training facilities. While Loki never showed up at your workstation, he did “happen” to come across you everywhere else, usually sticking to the background when others were around.

“You know, Loki, stalking someone generally involves the stalker not being in plain sight,” you teased, using a towel to wipe the sweat from your face. Training with Nat, as she nearly demanded you to call her, was intense but absolutely worth it. You attributed the recent mission successes to her as you may not have survived with out her guidance.

“Tch. I would not consider it ‘stalking,’ merely watching your back,” he scowled, clearly not amused.

“Calm down, Mischief. I’m only joking,” you grinned, nudging past him out the door. “But seriously, you don’t need to constantly ‘watch my back’. We’re at S.H.I.E.L.D., not on a mission.”

Following you, he taunted, “Then, I suppose you would prefer to be left alone. I see how it is.” He feigned being hurt by your words.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” you deadpanned.

His pace quickened until he spun in front of you, forcing you to a halt. “Then, my little agent, what do you mean?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him in a moment of silence. For whatever reason, he had taken to calling you that a few months ago. You were oddly okay with it, possibly even liked it though you were not ready to admit that just yet.

“What I mean is...” You took a step closer, now mere inches away, heart thundering in your chest. “You are allowed to talk to me when there are other people nearby.”

He leaned in, pushing how far this little standoff was going to go. “So I have your permission now? Thank you so much.”

“You never needed it.” Gods, you were so close now. You could have just gotten it over with and kissed him, but the thought of his reaction stopped you. Loki could be so hard to read. You couldn’t take anything at face value. It would not surprise you if he were messing with you now. But you could always try to catch him off guard...

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” you smirked and stepped around him. “I would like to get cleaned up for my date tonight.”

With that, you darted into the locker room, leaving the trickster frozen in the hall, mouth agape.

“He does like you,” Timmy said sporadically yet nonchalantly as he kicked the ball to you.

“‘He’ who?” You kicked the ball in the air towards him.

“Mr. Loki.”

You rolled your eyes at his “no duh” tone. “Maybe as a coworker.”

“Nooo!” He bounced the ball off his head, letting it then hit the ground to be forgotten. “I mean ‘like like’.”

You were about to scoff but thought back to earlier in the day. Loki’s reaction to your comment could lead someone to believe that, but that certainly was not enough proof. And, no. You were not on an actual date, but a date is a kind of planned event, and you had planned to visit Timmy. Loki would probably see through your partial lie eventually, but you at least had him in that moment.

“Now what makes you say that?”

“He always talks about you when he’s here.”

So Mischief does visit him... Imagining Loki running around this playground with Timmy was kind of cute.

“I’ll bet it’s nothing good,” you joked.

Timmy shook his head, not understanding your jest. “It’s how nice you are. He said that you’re one of the only people here who isn’t mean to him.”

Well, that was kind of true. Just because he had been with the Avengers for so long did not mean everyone was going to be friendly with him. New York was a factor but his current demeanor towards “Midgardians” was enough to turn most people away.

“That doesn’t mean he... ‘like like’s me,” you grimaced. Speaking like this made you feel like you were in high school again.

“But he told me-” He clapped his hands over his mouth.

“Told you what?”

He shook his head, his hair slinging wildly.

“Timmy...” you warned.

“But I promised him I wouldn’t tell,” he admitted through his hands.

Knowing how important promises can be for children, you sighed, “Okay, okay. I won’t push it anymore.”

Relief flooded his tiny face as he relaxed. Looking up at the pinks and oranges seeping into the sky like paint with too much water, you pouted. “Alright, Buddy. Looks like we need to head inside.”

Timmy mirrored your pout, but ran to you and clutched your hand as you led him into the building.

Well, this was going to be a boring mission. You were going solo this time. Loki was with his brother off-world, so that meant you had no one but the pilot to chat with. Admittedly, Loki was quite the conversationalist when he wanted to be. It kept the trips to and from locations from growing stagnant, something you very much appreciated. Plus, you just liked hearing his alluring voice, even when he teased you just to see how flustered you would get. You were a little surprised with how much you missed him being around.

At least this was supposed to be quick. The newly-found HYDRA facility was about three hours away. Get in. Snag data. Go home. Intel showed it was small without many people there. Should be easy enough. But... Nothing is ever goes as smoothly as it should.

Glancing out the window as the Quinjet was landing, you noticed how close you were to the facility. In fact, you were a lot closer than you should have been.

“Sir?” You left your seat to confront the pilot. “What’s this about? This is a stealth mission. You’re going to give away-”

You had to jump back to avoid a punch. The pilot had left the controls to take care of you, gun in hand. Is this guy serious right now?! There was no way you were going to give this guy a chance to shoot you. You ducked low, charging him and rammed yourself at his stomach, elbow aimed for his solar plexus. With the wind knocked out of him, he stumbled backwards, grasping at anything that would keep him upright. Taking the opening, you used a seat near you as leverage to jump high enough to wrap your legs around his neck, using the momentum and gravity to swing yourself around to slam him into the ground (a nice little trick Nat so graciously taught you). The force to the metal flooring was enough to leave him unconscious.

Scrambling up, you formulated a quick plan in your head: Take off, secure this asshole and comm headquarters. You made the executive decision to end the mission early. If this guy was a double agent, then whoever was in the facility knew you were coming. You were making your way to the cockpit when you felt something sharp pierce your neck. Immediately, you yanked out what you found to be a dart, spinning around to see where it came from. At some point in your fight, the Quinjet had touched down and the ramp lowered. With your vision growing alarmingly blurry, you could barely make out the armed guards before everything faded black.

Your head was throbbing when you opened your eyes again. The room was dark with a cold, uninviting floor and thick metal bars in front. You tried to sit up, hoping the small change would alleviate your headache but failed. Your captors had secured your hands behind your back, rather tightly to be honest. The restraints were harshly cutting into your wrists while making it as awkward as possible to do anything from your position. Trying again, the muscles in your side seized up and your ribs screamed in agony, a groan falling from your throat.

“Oh look, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is awake.”

You flinched not having heard the footsteps leading to your cell. You kept your head on the concrete floor as you looked up at the dark figure leaning on the opposite side of the bars.

“Now,” he started as he unlocked the door and let himself in. “I am going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them.” He nudged you with his foot. “Understand?”

Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away from him. Like hell. He just chuckled. The gritty sound reverberated off the walls.

“How cute. Your stubbornness won’t last long here.” The man began circling you slowly. “I know you are one of the agents who stole Subject 604.”

“You mean one of the agents who rescued a boy named Timmy,” you spat, earning you a hard blow to your back.

Hissing through your teeth, you rolled onto your stomach to relieve the pain of your bruising backside, but a foot pulled you back onto your side.

“Quite rude of you to interrupt,” he growled, moving to stand in front of you. “Now, all I want to know is where you have taken my test subject.”

“Hah,” you barked. “Like I’ll help some monster running experiments on children.”

A kick to your ribs and you curled in on yourself, coughing up the blood trying to take refuge in your lungs. He ripped you from the floor by your hair when a deafening alarm suddenly blared in the facility.

“You want a monster? Then, a monster you will have,” his hissed in your face before throwing you back down and leaving you in your cell to rot. You knew he’d be back later to finish what he started.

Biting back a pained moan, you pushed your head into the concrete floor, but the cold did little to soothe your pain. The alarm made sure of that, the tone causing your ears to faintly ring. You scooted yourself backwards against the wall and used it to help sit yourself upright. With that little bit of success, you rewarded yourself by closing your eyes and leaning against the wall. Now maybe you could think a little better so you could figure out a plan to get the hell out of there.

A low, familiar voice called your name, startling you to open your eyes. Had you blacked out again?

“By the Norns, you’re are alive,” a second booming voiced sounded off.

Maybe you were hallucinating. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Wha- Loki? Thor?”

Loki picked the lock open with his seiðr and rushed to you to release your bonds. “Let us leave this place, my little agent.” He spoke just loud enough for you to hear him over the alarms that were still roaring.

Gingerly scooping you into his arms, he strode back to Thor who was holding back the HYDRA agents who found you all there. He looked back at you and Loki over his shoulder. “Let’s go!” He threw his hammer down the hall, hitting the agents and forming a path.

Between Thor’s hammer and Loki’s seiðr, it didn’t take long for you all to convene with Captain America and Nat and make it to their Quinjet. The one you had taken for your mission was probably long gone. With everyone onboard, the pilot took off and navigated for headquarters.

Loki sat you down in a seat, giving you a once over to see where you were hurt with Nat giving her input. You probably had a concussion, cracked ribs and definitely a plethora of bruises. The best they could do at the moment was keep you comfortable without agitating the damage.

In one swift move, Loki picked you back up and placed you in his lap as he sat, holding you to his chest. Leaning into the embrace, you nuzzled up to him, too tired to notice the knowing looks earned from the rest of the team.

“I thought you were off-world,” you struggled to say, your voice barely breaking a whisper. Exhaustion was creeping up your limbs.

He rested a cheek on top of your head. “We were. We came back as soon as we learned you were missing. I thought I had lost you.”

Your mind grew foggy, slurring your words. “Nope... Not gettin’ rid of me so eas’ly...”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now sleep, my little agent.”

Traipsing through the jungle gym, you followed Timmy who was making his way to the monkey bars. He boldly hopped off the platform and latched onto one of the bars. As he swung himself forward, catching the next bar, you reached out for the closest one.

“Should you really be doing that, Dove?”

Loki was suddenly on the ground next to you.

“What? It’s just monkey bars.”

“You’ve only been out of the Med Bay for a week,” he deadpanned.

Huffing, you sat down on the platform, knowing you would not win this argument. “Fine. But you’re helping me down.”

He was already in front of you, ready to pull you into his arms. “With pleasure,” he smirked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You slid into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck. He just held you like that, staring into your eyes. You smiled and pressed your forehead to his. Although he thought it was cute, Loki had a better idea. He tilted his head and captured your lips instead which you all too willingly encouraged.

“Come on, you guys! It’s gonna get dark soon,” Timmy yelled to you, wanting you to follow him to the next jungle gym section.

With the moment shattered, Loki set you down and placed a chaste kiss to your forehead. You intertwined your fingers with his, pulling him along in Timmy’s direction. Both of you walked alongside the jungle gym and watched the ecstatic boy as he navigated the various obstacles.

“You know,” you began teasingly, leaning on Loki who hummed in response. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for rescuing me.”

“No... No, I don’t think you did,” he smirked mischievously.

You squeezed the hand you were holding. “What can I do to show my appreciation for your valiant efforts?”

“Hmm...” He looked at you with mock contemplation. “How about... You, my little agent, join me for dinner tonight?”

You nodded in agreement. “I’d love that.”

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 17

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

That night, Scott and I were meeting with Derek to discuss what our next plan of action was. Scott had said that he had found Jackson walking around downtown where there was an old abandoned warehouse that was primarily used for raves. The only problem was tickets were sold out and way out of Scott’s high school budget. 

“What’d you get from your dad?” I asked Stiles over the phone. 

“We figured out that all of the victims knew each other in some way, Harris’ class.”

“What about Isaac’s dad?” 

“We think maybe it has to do with Isaac’s older brother.” 

“Camden right?” 

“Right, he was killed in active duty but he would be the same age as all of the victims.” 

“What does that have to do with Jackson though?” I asked, parking outside at the same time that Derek had pulled up with Isaac in tow. 

“Not sure yet, but I’ll keep looking.”

“Alright, keep me posted.” I hung up, getting out of the car and walking with Derek and Isaac to the front door. Scott finished unlocking it, staring directly at Isaac. 

“What’s he doing here?” Scott asked suspiciously. 

“I need him.” Derek said. 

“I don't trust him.” 

Isaac scoffed, “Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you, either.”

“(Y/N) is indifferent.” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“You know what? Derek doesn’t doesn’t really care.” Derek said sarcastically. We made our way inside the lobby. Isaac sat down in a rolling chair in the corner of the room. I was happy just leaning against the front desk while Derek was content with staying annoyed.

 “Now, where’s the vet? Is he going to help us or not?” Derek asked. 

“That depends...” The veterinarian came around the corner, crossing his arms over his chest, “Your friend, Jackson... Are we planning to kill him, or save him?”

“Save him.” Scott and I said while Derek said: “Kill him.” 

Scott stared Derek down, “Save him.” He looked back at his boss, “Save him.” Happy with that answer, we were brought back into the operating room. He placed small bottles in front of us on the operating table. Being back here reminded me of the day Derek almost died. Sensing my distress, Derek pulled me closer to his side. 

Ever curious, Isaac reached out to touch one of the bottles. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his wrist before he made contact. Both alphas stared him down. 

“Watch what you touch.” Derek warned. Isaac backed away, turning his attention to Deaton. 

 He leaned against the table, “So, what are you, some kind of witch?”

“No.” Deaton said drolly, “I'm a veterinarian.” He went back to searching the cabinets for more vials. 

“Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin.” He said. 

“We're open to suggestions.” Derek sighed. 

“What about an effective offense?” Isaac asked. 

“We already tried. I nearly took its head off, and Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up.”

“Has it shown any weaknesses?” Deaton asked. Derek and I shared a glance. 

“Well, one: it can't swim.” He said. 

“He acted like the water burned.” I added. 

“Does that go for Jackson as well?”

“No. He's the captain of the swim team.” Scott said, leaning back against the wall. 

Deaton looked over all of us, “Essentially, you're trying to catch two people: a puppet, and a puppeteer.” He pulled a metal medallion from a drawer, holding up and flipping the sides. He placed the medallion on the table, “One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?” Deaton was referring to the latest victims. A married couple, pregnant with their first child. While the husband had been killed on the scene, the wife had been killed in the hospital.

“I don't think Jackson could do it.” Scott said, “His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else.”

“How do you know it's not part of the rules?” Isaac asked from the corner of the room, “The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies, too.”

“Does that mean your father was a murderer?” 

“Wouldn't surprise me if he was.” Isaac said grimly.

“Hold on-” Deaton interrupted, “The book says they're bonded, right?” Derek nodded Deaton grabbed a glass bottle of black powder, the label read Mountain Ash, “What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the Kanima” He opened the vial, making a circle around the coin with it, “Also affects its master?”

“Meaning what?” Isaac asked. 

“Meaning we can catch them.” Scott looked back, mostly at Derek, “Both of them.”

-

Walking through the halls after lacrosse practice, I didn’t think I would see anyone. But when I heard the sound of an angry individual, I wanted to check it out. I turned the corner, seeing Coach Lahey with a young kid backed against the wall near the boys bathroom. 

“You didn’t say anything, did you? Huh, you little punk.” He said through his teeth. 

“No...” The kid whimpered. This wasn’t right. Why the hell was Coach Lahey getting in this kids business. 

I rushed up to them, “There you are.” I grinned. Coach Lahey and the kid looked at me, “C’mon, mom’s waiting for us in the car.” I held a hand out of the kid. He looked between Coach Lahey, then me before quickly taking my hand. 

“Thanks for finding him, Coach Lahey.” I smiled, tilting my head to the side, “My mom’s been really worried.” Coach Lahey stood up straight. 

“Well, you’re welcome.” He mumbled, turning on his heels and walking towards the pool. I held the kid’s hand tightly, walking him through the school. 

“You okay?” I asked, looking down at him. He nodded, keeping his eyes towards the ground. He was practically trembling. 

“Lahey’s pretty scary, huh?” I asked. 

“Yeah.” I leaned over to look him in his eyes, they were pale blue.

“Well, if he ever corners you like that again, just tell him that your big sister is waiting for you with Coach Finstock. Lahey might be mean, but Finstock is crazy.” I smiled, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Matthew.”

-

The next morning, Stiles drove Scott and I to the high school seeing as my car was still in the shop. We looked over and saw Matt locking his bike to the bike rack. Matt for sure had tickets. We got out of the car, walking towards the building.

“There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?” Scott asked.

“It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret.” Stiles said, gripping the shoulder of his backpack. 

“Even if it wasn’t a secret, we couldn’t afford them anyway. I would get them but my parent’s estate isn’t settled yet. If it was, do you think I would be working as an assistant coach?” I said. Working with Coach was a blessing and curse. 

Matt walked up to us, “Hey... Either of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?” I had completely forgotten that Matt had been there for the attack too, but he seemed to miss  seeing Jackson as a lizard man.

“Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt.” Stiles said evasively. 

Matt narrowed his eyes, “I-I had a concussion...”

“Well, no one got seriously hurt.”

“I was in the ER for six hours!”

“Hey, do you want to know the truth, Matt?” Stiles snapped irritably, “Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now.” He bent over, holding his hand above the ground. I rolled my eyes, grabbing him back the strap of his bag and pulled him back up. 

“Are you okay?” Scott asked sincerely. 

“Yeah, I'm fine now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either?” Matt asked. 

“Are they still selling?”

“Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's gonna be there.” He started to walk away. 

“I’ll tell coach to take it easy on you at practice!” I called, he held up a hand, continuing his walk inside. 

“I don't like him.” Stiles grumbled, staring daggers into the back of Matt’s head.

-

It was time for afternoon practice, which meant explaining a few things to Coach. 

“Where in the hell did you go last game, (Y/N)? You just disappeared.” His eyes were somehow even wilder. I should probably tell him to look into an endocrinologist. We hadn’t gotten a chance to talk this morning since morning practice was about drilling new plays and him asking where Jackson was every fifteen minutes.

I rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry, Coach. It’s just a little hard to explain.” 

“No, having to explain to your wife that you lost her favorite testicle is hard, explaining where you went during the semi-finales? not hard.” At this point I think Coach was just a little too comfortable telling people things. 

After processing and hopefully blacking out what he just said, I came up with a lie that would definitely make him drop the topic. 

“I uh started my period.” I lied. Finstock closed his mouth and nodded. 

“Say no more.” I gave him an awkward smile, putting on the eye mask and heading out into the locker room. It was easier to find Scott and Stiles than it was before since I could pick out their scents. 

“Hey, are you sure about this?” Stiles asked. 

“Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job. So, what do you think he's going to do this time?”

“Be there to make sure it happens.”

“Can anyone tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?” Coach Finstock’s door flew open, slamming against the wall. 

“I thought I told you to keep an eye on him!” Stiles leaned in to Scott. 

“Stilinski!” Coach shouted, “Jackson?” Was he not aware of the restraining orders?

“Sorry, Coach... I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him...” He said nervously, causing me to elbow him in the side. 

“Oh, and when was that?”

“Last time I saw him... was definitely the time I saw him last...” He said evasively.

 “Yeah. Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay?”

“Sure, Coach.” Danny was near, maybe a couple feet. I hadn’t really “seen” him since he was attacked at the nightclub. He was another victim that didn’t make any sense. Danny hadn’t seen anyone get murdered by Jackson, while I had definitely watched Jackson attack people.

“That goes for all of you.” Coach’s shoes squeaked against the floor as he turned back to his office, “I should be coaching college.” He mumbled under his breath, slamming his door shut.

“Sooo Danny.” Stiles said in his smooth voice, or at least I think he meant for it to be smooth, “Got any extra tickets for the secret party this weekend?”

“Sorry, but I only got two myself.”

“What-- do you even have a date yet?” I smacked Stiles’ in the back of the head blindly. Still accurate. 

“I'm working on it.” He said, clearly offended. 

“Okay, okay... Hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence, and just-” Danny walked off. 

“How do you two losers even survive?” Isaac’s voice appeared.

“What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling.” Scott said. Two players were walking by, talking about the tickets they scored. 

“Isaac,” I grinned, “Be a dear, would you?” I motioned my head towards the players’ general direction. 

“...Wait here, boys.” Isaac walked off.

“What is he gonna-” Scott said before being cut off by the sounds of scuffling and shouting.

“Ow. Oh, my-” Stiles commented, ”Yup, that's excessive....That'll bruise.”

“Ow.” Scott winced.

“Wow, okay...” Stiles said grimly. I heard the sound of paper against their jerseys when Isaac came back.

“Enjoy the show.” Isaac said, walking back to his locker. 

-

After practice, we made a stop by the vet office. We were inside the operating room, watching Deaton grab a vial of clear liquid from a cabinet and a syringe.

“Ketamine?” Scott asked. 

“It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time.” He set the syringe and vial on the operating table, turning back to get the familiar bottle that held the dark mountain ash. 

“This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles-- only you.” He set the bottle on the table in front of Stiles

“Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure... Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?” Stiles looked at me. 

“Don’t look at me, I can’t do this.” I held my hands up. 

“Why can’t she do this?”

“It's from the Mountain Ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble...”

“Okay, so, then, what?” Stiles asked, “I just spread this around the whole building, and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?”

Deaton nodded, “They'll be trapped.”

“Doesn't sound too hard.” Scott shrugged. I leveled him a look. Wasn’t he the one to say don’t say something was too easy?

“Not all there is...Think of it like gunpowder-- it's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles.”

Stiles started at the vet in bewilderment, “...If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that.”

“Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind, and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish.”

“Force of will...” Stiles whispered. 

“If-if this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it.” Stiles hummed and exhaled loudly. 

-

After getting a few more things ready at the house, Stiles and I were about to get into Roscoe when Uncle Noah pulled up in the driveway. I paused, watching him get out. He seemed down and lost. The other thing I noticed was that his sheriff badge was missing. 

"Hey! Can't talk gotta run." Stiles said without looking. I grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt, causing him to be jerked back. He looked at his father, taking him in.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait-- what's wrong?” Stiles’ voice stopped Uncle Noah from going further up the driveway. 

“Nothing.” Uncle Noah said evasively, not meeting either of our eyes. 

“Oh...Where's your gun?”

“I left it at the station... along with my badge...” He breathed out. My mouth dropped open, then closed quickly. 

“What?” We asked in unison.

“It's all right. You know what? We'll talk about this later. You both seem like you’re going somewhere.”

“Dad-”

“Don't worry about it.” He started walking towards the house again. 

“Dad!” Stiles shouted. Uncle Noah stopped and turned back towards us. 

He sighed, “It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order filed against him by one of the town's most respected attorneys did not reflect well on the county...”

“They fired you?” Stiles asked, stunned. I looked down at my feet, I couldn’t look at either of them. Stiles was going to blame himself for everything and that wasn’t a Stiles that I ever wanted to see again. But what were we supposed to think? This whole situation with Scott was starting to affect home life. He shouldn’t have asked Stiles to steal that van. 

“Nah. Look, it's-it's just a leave of absence. It's-it's temporary.”

“Did they say it was temporary, or...?”

“Actually, no.” He sighed, “You know, I- It's fine. Don't worry about it, though.” He started walking back towards the door when I looked back up at him, “Hey. We're going to be fine.”

“Dad, I don't get it... “ Stiles was beginning to feel overwhelmed, “Why-why aren't you angry at me?”

“I don't know. Maybe I just don't want to feel any worse than I already do by having to yell at my son in front of my daughter who I’m sure is tired of any violence...” He didn’t yell, but his words still stung. Not intentionally though. We watched him walk into the house, a broken man.

“Oh, shoot.” Stiles mumbled. 

- 

After picking up Scott, we parked outside the warehouse of the party. There were a bunch of people outside waiting to get in, oblivious to the events that were going to take place. Stiles opened the back of the Jeep, pulling out huge sacks of mountain ash that were given to him by Deaton. He didn’t look okay, he had been tense our whole drive over here. 

“You okay?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, why?” He avoided the question. 

“You just didn't say anything the whole way here...”

“No, I'm fine. Just grab the other bag.” Scott and I shared a glance. 

“I can't.” Scott said sheepishly, “Remember, Deaton said you have to do it alone...”

“Okay, this plan is really starting to suck!”

“No. Not here. Not now!” Scott groaned. 

“What?” Stiles asked as Scott ran towards the main entrance. I followed close behind. 

Scott and I went our separate ways once inside, apparently Allison was here which completely ruined the plan because she really wasn’t supposed to be. While he was talking with Allison, I kept Matt distracted.

“Hey.” He smiled, “You got tickets.” 

“I did! Took some convincing but I’m pretty good at getting what I want.” I smirked. 

“Really?” He said, narrowing his eyes in a playful way. I inhaled deeply, getting the familiar scent of spearmint gum.

“Yeah. Like I can get a stick of your gum.” I held out my hand. He dug in his pocket and produced a stick of gum.

“Not bad, not bad at all.” I took the gum from his hand and started chewing it. I looked around him, seeing Allison coming back. She seemed a little upset, so I decided to bail. 

“I’ll see you around.” I waved and walked back into the crowd. I walked around the best I could, pushing through sweaty bodies, grabbing a water bottle while I was walking through. I hadn’t seen Jackson yet so that was both good and bad. We needed a visual of him. Soon enough Isaac and Erica were supposed to be here, Derek probably wouldn’t though. 

“Derek definitely isn’t a party person.” I took a long swig out of the bottle. 

“But I was.” I froze, looking over my shoulder. Michael... but how?

“Don’t you remember?” He stepped forward, “Hm? My parties lasted well into the early morning and we always had a good time, didn’t we?” 

“Am I? You wouldn’t know, would you? Because after your little mutt boyfriend clawed my jugular and left me to die, burying me under the dirt, you didn’t check, did you? DID YOU?!” I decided now was the time to run. I don’t know if I was drugged or if he was really there but I wasn’t waiting to find out. My heart felt like it was going a million miles a hour and my eyes burned with tears. This wasn’t like Michael’s apartment, Derek wasn’t outside in the parking lot to save me. Even when I was supposed to be so powerful, why did I still feel so helpless? I found a corner of the warehouse and pressed my back against the cool bricks. Trying to regulate my breathing. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm down. 

“You’re dead...” My voice trembled, the water dropping from my hand. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shook my head, “Just thought I saw someone.” As a group, we found Scott, going into a secluded area where he showed us the syringe filled with ketamine. Since Scott had to keep the hunter’s at bay, it was Isaac’s job to stick Jackson. 

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked. My eyes shot open, seeing Isaac and Erica staring at me.

“Are you okay?” She asked. Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded.  

“Why me?” He asked. 

Scott sighed, “Because I've got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan.” Isaac didn’t look completely convinced, “Okay, look-- you better do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. In the neck is probably going to be the easiest. So, you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on the trigger. Be careful.” He added intently.

Isaac scoffed, “Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him.”

“No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt.” Scott took off through the crowd to find the Argents. I sent Isaac and Erica off to find Jackson, keeping behind them at a safe distance. I made sure to check all the surroundings as I walked, making sure that Michael didn’t show up again. No, he wouldn’t. He’s dead. Very dead. 

Pain in my side made me wince, squeezing my eyes shut. 

Derek slammed his body into the side of a concrete beam outside the warehouse, keeping Boyd close to him. Hunter’s gunfire ricocheting off the concrete. 

 Gasping, I opened my eyes, looking over in the direction that Isaac and Erica had gone. They had found him. Erica was using her looks and her body, grinding against Jackson’s front. Isaac came up behind her, dancing with the two. 

“Keep your eyes on Isaac and Erica.” Derek’s voice echoed through my head. 

“What about you and Boyd?” 

“We’ll be fine.” I guess that answered that question. As I began walking towards the group, I tensed up. The familiar pain of electricity shocked through my system. But it wasn't’ me who was getting the zap, it was Derek. When I opened my eyes again, Isaac and Erica were on the ground. Jackson still stood there, staring at me with eyes that were solid like stone. 

“You won’t stop me.” He growled in a disembodied voice. Jackson took off quickly. I rushed forward to Erica first, who was breathing erratically. She had this reaction before to Jackson’s venom, it seemed that it triggered her epilepsy. I kneeled down beside her, turning her on her side. 

“Erica.” I said, trying to get her to look at me, “Erica, you need to breathe. Look at me.” Isaac reached out, trying to make a grab for the syringe that had been dropped, but it got kicked away. Isaac struggled through the crowd, trying to grab the syringe. Once Erica’s breathing regulated, I helped her to her feet. 

“Come on, you’re okay.” I said, reassuring her and myself. I watched Isaac finally inject the ketamine into Jackson’s system. In the chaos of the party, no one saw Jackson drop and get dragged away. We followed Isaac into a small room of the main. 

“You get out to Stiles, I need to help Derek.” I ran out the back door, seeing a hunter taking aim at Derek. I roared, knocking the weapon out of his hand and shoving him to the ground. I looked back to see Chris and Gerard staring. I was breathing heavily, fangs poking from my lips. Chris was holding a gun on me, one of my father’s guns. We seemed to have a silent agreement as I ran to reach Derek and Boyd. 

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Gerard glared. 

“It jammed.” Chris said, his voice hardened. 

I found Derek and Boyd’s cover, seeing the blood on their clothes. In the distance, I picked up a voice, one I didn’t recognize. 

"They're going to think it was an accident. Like you had an asthma attack and couldn't get to your inhaler in time. Your school records shows that you have a very severe case." Scott was in trouble, Derek and I shared a look. 

"I think I stopped healing." Boyd swallowed thickly, holding a bleeding wound on his side. 

“The bullets. They're laced with wolfsbane. You gotta go. Take the car.” He handed me the keys to the Camaro. 

“What about you?”

“I have to find Scott. Go. Go!” He shouted, I helped Boyd to his feet, helping him across the parking lot away from the hunters and out of sight. I helped him get inside the backseat and got into the driver’s seat. As I was about to start the engine my blood went cold. 

"Jackson, is that you?" Stiles’ voice. I looked back at Boyd in the rear view mirror. He was in rough shape and needed to get back to the depot. But Stiles.... Goddamit, I hate stupid trolley cart problems. I would hate myself forever if something happened to him but Boyd needed help now. I started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. 

“Boyd? Talk to me, buddy.” I glanced at him. He seemed drowsy, his eyes fluttering shut. 

“Come on, stay with me!” I pressed my foot down on the gas, going well over the speed limit. 

I screeched to a halt outside Deaton’s clinic, the vet was already outside, ushering us both inside. 

“I think you got more wounded on the way.” I huffed, laying Boyd down on the operating table. 

“That’s why I’m always prepared.” He said, grabbing a pair of long pliers and a bottle used for flushing out wounds. 

-

After listening to Boyd scream out for a while, he was finally free of all the mountain ash so he was able to heal himself. I sent him back out to the car to sleep. I decided that in between the chaos, I could ask Deaton about the bottle. 

“That is definitely the spell and it was meant to stick.” He pointed to the lock of my hair inside the bottle, “By adding your hair, it made this spell specific to you in a powerful way.” He handed the bottle back to me, “It’s probably why you haven’t gotten your memories back.” He rolled up his sleeves and started washing his hands. 

I sighed, “Great.” I leaned back against the brick wall, “So there isn’t anything I can do but live like this.”

Deaton looked back over his shoulder and sighed. He turned off the sink and turned around, wiping his hands on a paper towel. 

“The supernatural world works in mysterious ways. You never know, they may come back slowly or all at once.” 

“I’ve gotten bits and pieces. The name of Derek’s mother and a girl I was friends with but that’s not enough. And it’s not just me who’s suffering because of it. I can’t imagine how Derek feels.” 

He for thought a moment, “Maybe he can share some of his memories with you. Werewolves are able to do that, you know. With just the simplest touch.” The door to the clinic brought both of our attention towards the lobby, “We’ll talk later.” We both rushed out to help Derek who was carrying a very unconscious Scott. 

“Wolfsbane gas.” Derek said, laying him down on the operating table. Deaton worked hurriedly, grabbing a gas mask hooked up to an oxygen tank. Eventually, he started breathing again. I let out a smile of relief and brushed his curls off his forehead. 

“Thank you.” Derek said to Deaton. 

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack.” I sat back in a chair beside Derek. Deaton excused himself from the room. Derek was tense and rigid, his emotions running high. I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping my touch would make him breathe a little easier. 

“Erica and Isaac okay?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes. 

“They’re okay.” 

“And Stiles?” He nodded. 

“I told him to go back home.” He glanced down at me, “I know it was hard for you to leave him there. But I’m sure Boyd is grateful to be alive right now.” He paused, “It was Victoria Argent who attacked Scott.”

“Allison’s mom?”

“I bit her.” The confusion on my face made him elaborate, “She lived through the bite.” For a hunter, the bite was always a death sentence. Whether it killed them, or their group did. 

“I know you did it to save Scott... But something tells me you did it on purpose, as a battle strategy.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, “That wasn’t my intent. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t good for our side.” 

“Good? Derek, Chris was the only person who was holding back. Now that they have to kill his wife... I don’t think he will follow the code either.” 

He turned to look at me, “Then it’s time we teach you how to fight. Unleash the beast.” 

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

Read part 18 here!

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[thatcartoonnetworkblog]

Comic Review: Cartoon Network Presents #6

I said I was gonna do this, so let’s get this rolling!

Okay, so Cartoon Network Presents was among the first lineup of DC’s CN comics, alongside their Scooby-Doo book and The Flintstones and the Jetsons. Those are pretty self-explanatory, but CN Presents was meant to be a grab bag of the rest of their lineup, featuring favorites from the vast Hanna-Barbera library as well as some of their recent hits. At this point, I believe they were just doing Dexter’s Lab and Cow & Chicken, as Johnny Bravo’s first season was more or less written off as a failure at the time. But don’t worry, Johnny will have his day.

Okay, so confession time- this story is not new to me. Way back when, DC released a freebie comic which had stories from each of their three CN titles, and this was featured in there, alongside a short Scooby story where a stalker keeps on doning a costume to get closer to Daphne, and a Jetsons story where George is replaced by a robot version of himself. Needless to say, some serious memories came crawling back to me when I saw the cover.

Anyway, both of the stories featured in this issue are done by regulars in the comic industry, and I’ll bring up how apparent that is in a bit,

That said, I can see this story actually fit in an episode of Cow & Chicken, as it’s a cautionary tale that doesn’t go in the usual direction you’d expect, like many of David Feiss’ cartoons tend to do things. This starts off with Chicken littering, which goes against what his and Cow’s teacher taught them in school. Chicken, as per usual, is apathetic to his loud teacher’s learnings, but he changes his tune when Cow mentions that bringing in metal can bring you some change,

Needless to say, Chicken has some ideas, and he starts scourging around town. There’s a slight detour when he learns that you only receive payments from going to the trash collector directly, but it gives him incentive to have Flem and Earl help him out.

Alongside a dubious reading of Malcolm X’s philosophy.

The three of them find enough metal to hopefully make them a little richer, and they’re greeted at the trash heep by a weird looking Cerberus creature, and guess who they belong to!

Yeah, it’s the Red Guy. It’s not a Cow & Chicken segment without him, is it? 

I had a better screenshot of his appearance, but it came out weird and I don’t feel like taking another, so let’s skip to this part where Chicken is caught cheating the scale, and is about to be rightfully punished along with Flem and Earl. Not by death, but by filling up the Red Guy’s furnace, which is actually pretty fair.

But have no fear, Supercow is on the way to come save the day! This comic even translates her dialogue for us, which the show never did. 

It ends with her beating the shit out of Cerberus and the Red Guy, even though Chicken deserves his punishment. Flem and Earl, not so much.

It’s a fun enough story, and it does seem like a perfect fit for the show. The dialogue fits right in with the show.

Even Flem’s awkward, vaguely racist broken English. I’m not touching that one...

The art style is a little off, though, looking more like a regular DC comic than an episode of Cow & Chicken.

I mean, it looks like Chicken, but doesn’t the penciling look closer to an issue of Robin at the time instead of something? But it’s a minor complaint, as it’s still a fun read.

The b story is new to me, with a Quick Draw McGraw story. It starts off pretty ordinary, as El Kabong OLE’s himself to save the day. Er, not that ordinary, as El Kabong is a bit of a klutz and usually needs Baba Looey’s help, but it’s okay, something’s about to change.

It turns out that El Kabong’s identity may be liable for copyright infringement, as there’s a Canadian crime fighter known as Le Kabong.

We meet him here, and I believe he’s meant to be Loopy de Loop, but he looks more like Hokey Wolf... or maybe Mr. Jinx. Hanna-Barbeta made some nice-looking characters, but they get pretty samey.

Anyway, his agency was the one who ordered a cease and desist to El Kabong, while his French Canadian doppelganger refuses to follow suit, considering it unheroic. Until it’s discovered that someone kidnapped the local hockey team, and he takes action... so I guess he blames the devil we know? That isn’t really explained, as the next panel shows Quick Straw accepting a battle of the Kabongs.

So we’re about to get a WWE (or I guess WWF. Or maybe WCW?) match, until a new challenger approaches, with a German vigilante jumping in.

And then many more. This switches from wrestling to Super Smash Bros to a full on battle royale of the localized knock-offs. Which I won’t lie, it’s a pretty funny idea.

Luckily, what’s a Kabong without a trusty sidekick to save the day? A few of them attempt to team up to find a way to put a stop to this, including one who looks like Boo Boo with Yogi’s hat and Johnny Bravo’s glasses.

So it ends with the Kabong from Mars (no Spiders) threatening all of the puny humans to stop their shenanigans, and go back to their duties. Which hey, it works! And the story ends with Quick Draw attempting to turn the ten million pesos El Kabong received at the beginning from saving the day into cash. Except pesos are basically useless, which is funny haha right?

This reads like a Hanna-Barbera writer from the 90′s attempting to write a classic character in the present day, and mostly works alright. This does show off one problem with Quick Draw though, that its take on Hispanic culture during the period of the Wild West is problematic. Baba Looey for instance has an exaggerated voice, and he probably needs an overhaul to work today (how did that work in Jellystone btw? I still need to see it). And unfortunately, this point in the late 90′s isn’t all that much more sympathetic to Hispanic culture, as their take mostly stays the same.

But away from that, it’s pretty funny. I do really like Quick Draw when it focuses on how pathetic he is as a supposed hero, either with or without the El Kabong persona.

But I wouldn’t have known if this was in if I didn’t pick up the book. I do understand why Cow & Chicken was the main attraction- *insert Malcolm in the Middle “future is now, old man” img here*- but part of the appeal of Cartoon Network at the time was the mix of old and new school. It wasn’t uncommon to see a classic like Quick Draw next to a modern fav like Cow & Chicken.

But oh well, let’s finish this up. The letters column features a 12 year old offering some of his cartoon ideas- I hope John made it; another boy named John who offers a cute drawing of Space Ghost, and asks about Jan, Jase, and Blip, while insulting the latter, which the editor is not here for; and another boy asking if there are plans for stories featuring 2 Stupid Dogs or Secret Squirrel, as well as hopes for a Cow & Chicken comic. The editor shoots down 2 Stupid Dogs happening, and to be fair, I don’t believe that ever happens. Classic cartoons from 40 years earlier? Sure. Something that ended about five years earlier? Old news. But I do believe Secret Squirrel does show up at some point.

The editor then bemoans how no girls brought in letters this month, and offers a preview of the next issue, which involves Wacky Races. And guess what, I have that one too!

The issue proper ends with an editorial about the importance of recycling, which is fine and all, but my reaction to reading this was “blahblahblah put on more cartoons”

Not bad! Oh, and one more thing of note.

I know, I know, they’re the enemy, and I was all over CN at this point, but I have memories of this promotion. Even though I believe it was long over at this point, and Alex Mack should have aired its last episodes before this issue hit stands. 

Here’s an ad! And now it’s in your head. Sorry/you’re welcome!

[shinygoldstar]

Snowflake part 11 (DannyMay Alone)

Part 1 | Part 10 | AO3 | Part 12

The metal staircase clinked as light footsteps trod down to the basement lab. The siblings paused and turned towards the stairs.

"Hey Jazz. Oh! Danny you're awake! How are you feeling sweetie?" Maddie greeted, walking down the stairs.

Danny shifted in his blankets, "Mhmmnm, better than this morning. Jazz said you found an old acquaintance?"

"Yes,” Maddie walked over to her children, “our acquaintance, the professor was an honorary member of our paranormal club back in the college days. He's an expert on radioactive substances; we're hoping he could lend us his experience to help us diagnose your case. If we can isolate the root cause of the ectoplasm's unusual adherence to your body then it should be easier for us to expel it from your system. The roads outside are frozen solid right now so we’ll be using the four-wheel RV to drive over to pick him up in Springfield. Hopefully we’ll be back before nightfall. Will you two be okay alone?"

The siblings nodded, "We'll be fine Mom, I'll take care of things here." Jazz answered with a small smile.

Maddie hugged Jazz then pressed her hands against the glass wall that separated her son from the world. From his side, Danny placed his two hands against hers. So close yet so far. "I'll be back soon" Maddie promised her children, "Call me if you have any problems."

Jazz nodded, "Travel safe Mom."

.

The two siblings sat together leaning against the glass in comfortable silence. Jazz had pulled a chair over to sit closer to Danny. The hole in the wall where the portal was once affixed to is now boarded up, its metallic components dismantled to study the effects of ectoplasmic energy in hopes of understanding how it affects living organisms. Without the portal, the lab had felt lighter somehow, easier to breathe, like an unknown weight have been lifted from the atmosphere. But on its off days, usually on stormy days like today, the heavy oppressing weight returns. She wasn't sure if it's just the low air pressure tricking her senses but on days like these, the shadows around the table corners seemed to expand, making the room darker under the lab’s artificial lights.

“Hey Jazz,” Danny called, staring up at the ceiling, “do you think I would get better?”

Jazz turned to face him, “Of-of course!” she piped up with a bit of forced optimism, “Mom and Dad said the professor could help. You’ll be better soon!”

Danny looked down at his left hand, “I- I didn’t quite tell the whole story to Mom. The accident I mean. I-” Danny shivered, mist leaving his mouth in steaks of pale blue.

“Could you turn up the heat a bit more please?” Jazz increased the temperature.

“Thanks Jazz. I-” Danny forged on, “I- it was more than just a small shock. It- it was-” Danny choked up, shaking. Jazz quickly stood up to comfort him but was stopped by the glass. She pressed her hands against the glass, it felt hot under her hands. “Take deep breaths Danny, you’re here with me, your sister Jazz. Breathe in, breathe out. You’re safe here Danny.” Jazz stood next to the glass wall with her hands pressed against the glass, continuously repeating calm words to Danny. Eventually Danny’s breathing slowed down from its rapid ragged pace.

“Danny, you’re safe here. It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me what it is right now.” Jazz looked at Danny, giving him a small watery smile.

Danny didn’t say anything but his eyes showed gratitude as he tried to calm down his breath. They continue to remain in the same position, the sauna room’s engine running a small white noise hum in the background.

Eventually Jazz’s legs tire from standing still too long. Shifting on her legs, Jazz broke the silence, “Hey Danny, are you hungry? I’m going to heat up some soup. Do you want some?”

Danny blearily blinked his eyes open waking up from the comfortable haze he’s in, “Sure, thanks Jazz.” Jazz smiled softly, heading towards the stairs. “You’re the best.” Danny continued half-whispering with a sleepy smile, not entirely fully conscious.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed, leaving a small gap letting light into the dim lab. Danny yawned. He’s getting sleepy again.

Danny hiccupped. And again. And again. By the third time he hiccupped Danny frowned, opening his eyes. He hiccupped again, this time he can see the blue mist wafting out from his mouth. Annoyed, he tried to hold the hiccups in. It didn’t abate. Instead of coming out of his mouth, he sneezed instead. Chocking coughing from the cool prickly sneeze, Danny quickly stood up before woozily falling back onto the blankets. He shifted his body to sit in better position but found blankets clinging to his hands and back. He pulled the blanket off his left hand with a dry scratchy sound. He did the same for the right hand and his back. Readjusting the blankets, Danny huddled under the blanket waiting for the hiccup to stop, hiccupping every once in a while.

In the dimly lit lab, the sauna room generator’s hum gently lulled him back to sleep.

Several minutes passed in a quiet hum. The lights flickered then went out. The soft hum quietened. The temperature in the room started dropping. The blankets grew stiff under Danny’s fingers.

“Danny?” Jazz’s voice echoed from the kitchen, “the storm just took out the lights. I’ll go take a quick look at the backup generator in the Ops Center. Please hold on for a few minutes. I’ll get the heat back soon!”

The lab was dark and silent.

Unnoticed by anyone, faint crystals of ice formed around the condensation that clung onto Danny when the temperature started dropping. Gathering in clumps of tiny white stars, the ice rapidly gained speed as the temperature fell further, gradually forming thin film around Danny. Water vapor in the air condensed and fell onto Danny, speeding up the ice.

A spark of bright light emerged from the center of Danny’s chest, flaring out freely unimpeded into rings of blinding white light, lighting up the lab in blinding white light.

.

The Ops Center was mostly barren, most of the ghost hunting equipment that once made the room a hazard to walk in was packed into boxes in the corner of the room. Jazz turned on her flashlight, looking for the emergency backup generator. Being a backup generator in an explosion prone house, said generator was kept in the furthest place from the source of explosions, that is, the Ops Center. A good decision under normal circumstances but right now, Jazz just finds it very inconvenient that it is placed so high up when she should be watching over her brother.

“There!” She flipped the manual switch. The engine hummed slowly, then faster as it warmed up its engines. Checking the engine to ensure it is working properly, Jazz stood up, brushing off the stale dust on her pants.

“Now back to Danny.” Jazz affirms to herself.

Jazz quickly climbed down the ladder stair that bridged the Ops Center and the main house. Walking down the second-floor stairs to the ground floor, Jazz noticed the railings looked oddly bumpy. Cautiously tapping it lightly with her forefinger, her fingers slid over the icy slippery surface, her fingers slightly melting the ice. ‘Ice?’ She thought. The shimmering melted part quickly lose its shine as it refroze. The translucent ice grew thicker under her careful eyes. “Danny!” she cried in alarm, rapidly walking down the stairs, mindful of the crunching of stiff carpet breaking under her shoes.

The kitchen floor was covered in frozen droplets of ice. “Danny!” Jazz cried, half walking half running towards the basement door. She tried to push the door open but it did not budge.

Pulling the door handle towards her the door yielded, swinging open with a stiff crunch. The doorway was entirely covered up in ice.

Ice that continues to expand at rapid pace outwards from the door now that it is no longer blocked.

.

Snow gently falls from the sky.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “The Admiral’s Children.”

This is also in response to a request someone made, so hope you you guys like it :) 

Eris floated through the darkness. She had seen the memories of sunrises and sunsets in other people’s heads, but she had never really seen one herself. Noctopolis was a terraformed world kept artificially livable by a great deal of technologies. It didn’t require the warming heat of the sun.

The warm musty breath of Noctopolis’s metal mines washed up into her face, and not for the first time she regretted inheriting that particular sense from her human donor. She turned, long dark hair flowing around her body in great swirling wisps as she floated back into the hybrid compound.

It was mostly quiet around here, and it had been for a while since the news. She knew it was unrealistic, and hardly fair for Commander Vir that the had collectively accepted his DNA role in their existence. After all, he had not been a willing donor, but out of all the people her hybrids had chosen to emulate, they could hardly have picked a better man, though she recognized her opinion was rather biased.

Still, she had seen inside his head at one point, and seen what thoughts lingered there.

While there were some pretty horrible thoughts, harbored in the back of the head and hidden under the conscious folds -- like every other human -- his greatest urges had been nothing more than kindness and duty to upholding what he believed to be right.

She respected that, and was glad to share his genetic signature.

She hoped that the others would take the opportunity to learn from their surrogate. His sacrifice would hopefully push them towards greatness in the future.

Her long flowing locks brushed against the back of her thighs as she floated inward. 

The hair mixed with her sparse ribbons, and hid the strange and useless vestiges from view.

She floated inside smiling reassuringly at her hybrids, who spend their time in various stages of study and play. Play that they were allowed only after all their work was done.

She would not have uneducated hybrids.

Eris herself knew all that she needed to know, as she had the collective memory of anyone who stepped into her circle of thought. It was both a curse and a blessing. A blessing because she had all the life experience she needed to have without ever having to experience it herself, not to mention all of the knowledge that came with it.

On the other hand, she had all the pain and memory of suffering that came with the same, sometimes making it hard to be in the presence of others for too long lest she be overwhelmed by their memories.

Today she sensed sadness and followed its trailed to the next room, where four large figures sat brooding, three of them curled up together and one of them curled up alone in the corner.

The spiderlings were big now, probably as big as they were going to get somewhere between human size and the size of the adaptids. At the shoulder Glados was nearly five and a half feet tall with her ten spidery appendages and doglike head. The soft peach fuzz of human hair that had grown atop her skin had thickened in recent months giving her a light coating of hair so the skin was no longer showing. It was a more pleasant look now that it had been before.

Eris floated over and rested a hand on Glados’s back.

Glados tried to pull away, but Eris kept hr hand there.

She knew what the spiderling wanted despite the spiderling not wanting to admit it.

“I know you miss him.”

“Go away.”

“I know he would miss you too.”

Glados snarled, “No he doesn’t. He left us here to rot.”

She didn’t mean it, but Glados often said things she did not mean in the heat of the moment, so eris did not take it personally.

“He knew what was est for you, so don’t even give me that. And we both know that he loved you.”

“I’m not human.”

Eris sighed inwardly. She sure thought and acted like a human if her raging mood swings were anything to judge by. Eris scooted closer and cradled the large soft head in her arms resisting when Glados tried to get away, “He was unprepared, no more than a child himself when he was asked to take care of you. And he did love you.”

“Then why didn’t he come back?” She wondered softly, her strange robotic voice filling the room with it’s forlorn echo.

Eris went quiet, “I am sure he tried his best little one.”

The news of his memorial had reached them weeks after it had all happened. Granted there were plenty of ways in which the information could have reached them, but somehow things always seemed to come slowly to Noctopolis.

Eris remained there, stroking a hand through Glados’s hair as she sat in contemplation. 

His absence had been hard on the entire galaxy. Things had happened that no one had expected to happen following his disappearance including, but not limited to a sudden slow in commerce between worlds, a drop in interstellar tourism, and increasing tensions between specific nations.

The only reason she knew they were managing to hold together had something to do with the burg war.

It was funny how the universe seemed to hinge on the ability of one man to keep himself alive, and one rather dumbass man at that. The thought sort of mad her smile in a sad way, because she knew her thought process wasn’t the truth. It was hardly giving him as much credit as he deserved.

She had chosen to accept him after all.

There was a soft scuttling at the door and she looked up to find the spiderthing walking into the room.

He had grown up quickly, and aside from having a lower half that looked like an adapted, his upper half looked like a gangly tweenage human boy.

“Eris, a ship is coming. They want to talk to you.’

“Do you know them?”

“No, their name is the Omen.”

She had never heard the name before, but she assumed it was her job to go and greet them despite not wanting anything to do with other people at this current moment in time.

She got to her feet patting Glados’s ears before hoving into the next room with a sigh.

She couldn’t sense any thoughts yet, though her range was actually way more limited than she would have liked to admit.

The spiderthing followed along with her as they walked outside and watched the slow descent of the ship.

She floated there adjusting her long, dark tresses.

She liked them long, and hoped that one day she could grow it down to her ankles, despite knowing that was probably a bad idea.

A sharp clattered allerted her to the shuttle touchdown, and she moved forward, barely listening to the inner voices of the people inside. She was sure she would be able to read their intentions when they stepped out.

Eris was not often surprised, but when she was, she really was.

Because she recognized those thoughts the moment they stepped out onto the tarmac.

-I wonder how Glados is going to react to me being alive…. Lets be honest, she is either going to kill me or hug me…. Or totally both-

She froze on the spot, and the spiderthing turned to look at her with great confusion and concern.

-And Eris, she can read minds so she will totally know about how me and Su- no no, don’t think about that, don’t think about that, don’t think about that. Conn already knows, that twinkly bastard, and the less people who know right now the better-

Eris still did not move as another voice intruded on her thoughts.

-I wonder how happy they will be to see him. Will they be angry because that is something I can completely understand…. Still he is rather adorable, it is hard to be mad at him for more than five seconds-- an internal sigh of frustration followed -He is a great exercise of my patience though, if things between us continue to advance this slowly, I am going to be old and desaturated by the time he figures himself out-

Eris shook herself staring forward at the figure who walked up the little walkway towards them.

He had on a beaming bright smile.

When she didn’t move, he simply walked forward and folded his arms around her. He was warm and inviting.

--I hope she is ok with me hugging her. I probably should have asked--

She hugged him back in response, so tight she thought maybe she was going to break him and half hoping that she would.

She pulled back blinking in shock as Adam smiled back at her. 

Memories came rushing into her head, and she had to blink a few times to figure it out.

“Wow, a lot has happened to you since you last visited.” She said breathily.

Admiral Vir tilted his head, “Didn’t you know I was coming, I would assume the entire universe would have known by now.”

Eris sighed in frustration and mild anger, “No one tells us anything on Noctropolis, and even less people come and tell US what is going on.”

Behind him, a young woman stood staring wide eyed and nervous at her.

Her thoughts were everywhere -- who is this! The admiral never mentioned a starborn with hair, or a starborn that isn’t wearing clothes…. Am I supposed to look away? I don’t know. And is it just me or do they sort of look alike in some weird way….--

Eris chose to ignore her for the moment. She touched hands on his shoulders and hugged him tight again, “I am so glad you're alive. Everyone was devastated when we got the news the first time…. Glados has been… well she…”

“I missed her too. I missed all of them.”

Eris continued to beam in disbelief.

His radiant smile seemed to lighten up her day as he took her by the elbow, hand resting comfortingly over hers. He was more comfortable with that that he had been before and the reaction made her heart beat just a little faster. For a moment she could almost pretend like she didn’t have the needs of so many people resting on her shoulders

With him there it felt like everything was going to be alright,

She could hear it too, echoing in his own head, the need to take care of everyone just like she felt.

Maybe it ran in the family.

“This place looks amazing, Eris. I can’t believe what you’ve accomplished.”

His compliment spread warmth through her insides like he was pouring warm water down through the tp of her head She beamed, “It’s all thanks to you.”

“You always give me more credit than I am worth.” He laughed 

They turned the corner and Admiral vir paused just outside the room looking in, not sure how he was supposed to feel about that was to come next. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should be expecting to get hit or not.

Eris smiled, “I think you are ok to go in.”

***

Glados lay by herself staring at the corner wall her legs tucked underneath her. It just wasn’t fair.

It just wasn’t fair that everyone else was finding all of this so much easier than she was.

Everyone else had always found everything so much easier than she did,

They weren’t so angry all the time like she was and they didn’t miss dad like she did, and no one seemed to see how annoying it was that he had gone and left them here to learn and do school things without even coming to visit, and no one else seemed annoyed that he had stupidly gone off and died without even really thinking about them in the first place.

She thought it was selfish of him.

She hated him for it, but even thinking about hating him just made her want to cry which made her even more angry. None of the others could cry, none of the other had inherited tear ducts like she had. None of the others had to deal with all the stupid human problems than she had inherited above them

None of them got it,

She just wanted to scream in frustration and rage because no one understood her, and even when they did understand her, lke Eris, and sai all the things sh wanted them to say, that didn’t mean she wanted to hear them say the things that she wanted them to say.

Eris was cheating anyway. She didn’t have to try and figure things out like everyone else.

It wasn't hard for her, but it was for Glados.

“Wow, you…. You’ve all gotten big. I remember when you guys hatched you were no bigger than my ifst. Now you might as well be taller than me.”

Glados paused in her musings just long enough to be angry, and then she went back to her brooding.

Another annoying person that she didn’t care to talk to

Behind her the others began to squeal and shout which just made her even more annoyed on top of all the annoyance that she already had. She just wanted them all to SHUT UP.

In anger she turned around, waiting to chase anyone out of the room who dare intrude on her anger and solitude, but as soon as she did that, she froze in place, eyes wide and staring at the figure who knelt on the floor Next to Hal and Cortana. 

Before she knew what she was doing, she rushed forward bowling the other two to the side and then mashing the third figure into the floor.

The familiar smell was overwhelming, comforting, and she hated every second of it.

“WHERE WERE YOU!”

She shrieked.

He grunted, “Wow, you talk better than I remember.”

“You were gone FOREVER.”

“I am really sorry about that, but I didn’t mean to.”

Glados snarled, and host pulled back hands raised, “I’m sorry Glados, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to go missing and I am sure you have to know that.” Her hearts were hamming inside her SHe didn’t know mother, and she didn’t know father, but she did know host, and he had left her alone here thinking that he was dead, and now he just turned up

“I hate you.” She snarled 

His single green eye softened slightly, and she could see that she hurt him, and though she didn’t want to care, she very much did

She wanted to run away to go feel bad somewhere else, but he sat up tightening his arms around her body until she couldn't move, “Well it doesn't' after if you do hate me alright. I just want to say i am sorry and I love you and there isn’t anything you can do about it.

Her anger melted after a moment ans she gave in in frustration. He was so small now, she could probably rip Host’s throat out with her teeth though the thought made her physically ill to think about. The others scooted forward and pushed at her.

:Move over Glados.”

“Yeah you remember what they said about sharing.”

She snarled but knew that she would only get in trouble if she tried to tell them what she really thought. She tired to move away but Host grabbed her foot and she was unable to move anywhere.

He hugged the others while still keeping her pinned in place, “I missed you all, and wow have you gotten big, what has Eris been feeding you.” Glados finally gave in at some point, knowing there was nothing that she was going to be able to do about this

He had won.

She lay down on the floor and rested her head in his lap as he stroked a hand over her ears.

She listened to him talk without really paying attention.

Humans had such nice voices, and Host had the nicest voice of all.

This was not an opinion, it was a fact and anyone who disagreed with her could take it up with her teeth.

***

Off on the  other side of the room Sunny leaned back against the wall arms crossed over her chest smiling internally to herself as she watched Adam reunited with the spiderlings. Glados didn’t like her much so she decided to stay back, but it was a pretty endearing reunion all the same.

The young lieutenant stood wide eyed off to the side clutching her holo-pad in front of her chest.

Sunny smirked.

“What…. Is all this?” the young Lt asked.

Sunny shrugged.

“Oh those are the spidelrings.”

“The who?”

“The spiderlings. They are the product of an adapted using his body to hatch eggs not long ago.”

“What!” her voice went up a few octaves Sunny reckoned, and she hissed slightly through the breathing holes at the base of her neck. A deep rumble of amusement broke through her chest, “Listen most of the hybrids here are technically his children if you want to mince about with words I suppose.”

Lt Simon just stared at her, “Is this a problem that occurs often?”

“Yes,, you will likely have many alien hybrid children.”

Simon stared at her, and Sunny stared back determined not to let simon know if she was bluffing or not.

It was probably mean to do this to the kid like she had, but it was still kind of funny, and she left her stewing as she walked over to speak with Eris.

They were going to stay for a week or two to make up things to the spiderlings, but then they were going to have to be off again.

Space, wile ancient, waited for no one, 

[hraishin]

prompt- cherik talking about their possibly human children?

im thinking it would be angsty

I made it angsty but happy at the end cause I couldn’t just let it end in angst when I had the power to turn it around kajhdjkad ;-; But anything with cherik and kids warms my heart so I absolutely had to write this (besides, it was an excuse for more trans content >:) )

Thank you for the prompt <3

CW // Trans!Erik, Mpreg

-

Charles watched with amusement as Erik groaned at the instructions on the ground, a few metal pieces of the dresser he was assembling floating through the air as he waved his fingers lazily, his other hand over his stomach as he stroked it through his shirt without even noticing that he was doing. Charles had tried to convince him to let Charles help assemble the dresser, but Erik had only given him an unimpressed look and gone to the baby's room to prove he could do it himself as he told Charles to take care of their lunch.

After half an hour, Erik was still trying to figure out the instructions, nothing really assembled yet.

"You shouldn't be up for this long," Charles said from the doorway, smiling as his husband looked back at him with a warning glare, "you were complaining about back pain just a few hours ago."

"It passed." Erik said shortly, going back to the instructions as he took a wooden part of the dresser. It looked heavy, making Charles quickly wheel himself into the room to help him with it. "I'll be done soon, go finish lunch."

"You barely even started."

"I was figuring things out first."

"Then let me help you at least." when Erik opened his mouth to complain, Charles kept going. "Lunch is ready and I have nothing better to do, so I'm helping with you wanting it or not."

In the end, they assembled the dresser quite quickly, Erik's power proving itself helpful as he screwed the screws and put the hinges in its places, and soon Erik was sitting down at the recliner in the room with Charles in front of him, massaging his feet as Erik's mind complained loudly from the back pain that came back and the small pin pricks at the heels of his feet.

"I told you to rest, you stubborn man." Charles said, seeing Erik mumble what sounded like a curse in German. "You're not carrying just your own weight around anymore."

"When this baby is born," Erik raised his eyes from where they were hidden behind his hand, looking at Charles with a pointed look, "you'll be the one carrying them around everywhere until they're nine months old. Then we can share."

"That's hardly fair considering the first three months it was barely a nuisance and now they're getting heavy. They'll get heavier with time, so if I carry them for the next nine months I'll be carrying their weight for more time than you-"

Charles stopped talking abruptly when Erik's feet pushed against his chest with enough force for him to lean backwards, his chair moving backwards with the push. He held himself to Erik's ankle to pull himself back close, giving Erik a glare and seeing his husband smile devilishly.

"I think I prefer that you keep your mouth shut as you massage my feet."

"Thank you, darling. I love you too." Erik smiled at the sarcasm in Charles' voice making him smile back. "But now we just need to wait four more months…"

"Time seems to be going fast and not fast enough." Erik's hand landed on his belly again, fingers stroking it lightly as his eyes watched the growing bump with a warm gaze. "I can't wait to meet them."

Charles smiled at the soft tone in Erik's voice, feeling the way his mind turned into a bundle of love and warmth that Charles loved to see in him. Erik's eyes slowly raised to look at Charles again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Can't you hear their thoughts?"

"It's very fuzzy still, but they can hear your voice and mine when we talk." Charles smiled, moving forward to touch Erik's belly as well, seeing the smile on his husband's lips widen. "There's not much, only sensations… Warmth, the comfort of our voices… Especially yours. Their dreams amaze me."

They stayed in silence for a moment, Charles enjoying the warmth from Erik's mind and the quiet and strange thoughts of their child, marvelling at the wonderful experience of knowing that they were thinking - such a small thing, not yet ready for the world, but already full of love, which would mostly flare up at the sound of Erik's voice.

"I can't help but wonder what they'll look like." Charles said, chuckling a little to himself. "If they'll have your eyes or mine, your ginger hair or my dark brown one…"

"I wonder what their mutation will be like." Erik chuckled this time, but Charles' smile died down for a moment. Erik didn't seem to notice. "We're both powerful… Hopefully we'll be able to keep them safe when their mutation manifests."

"I've been… meaning to talk to you about this." Charles' voice was wary, eyes looking at Erik with caution as the other man raised his eyes and frowned. "There's… There's a possibility they won't be a mutant. You know that, right?"

"We both are mutants."

"But there's nothing that guarantees our child will be as well." Erik's frown deepened as Charles clenched his jaw. "We could end up having a human child, Erik."

"They won't be human."

"Erik-"

"They won't, Charles." Erik's voice got louder, his eyes going hard over Charles as his own expression hardened. "I said already, we're both powerful mutants and there's no reason why our child would be any different."

"What if they end up being human?" Erik's body tensed a little bit, the warmth and love going to the back of his mind as some anger and dread came to the forefront. "What if they aren't a powerful mutant, what if they grow to be a human?"

"I don't want to talk about this-"

"No, I think we should. More than ever, actually." Charles fixed himself on his chair, leaning back again and seeing Erik turn his face away from him. There was denial in his mind. "I need to know you won't hold our child accountable for something they couldn't control."

"You're talking like I'm one of them."

"I want to make sure you're not."

Erik's gaze was piercing when he looked back at Charles, a killer look that the telepath had seen before - when they had just met each other years ago. Charles' gaze didn't waver, but soon he was sighing loudly and shaking his head. 

"I don't want to fight, I'm sorry. But I need you to think about it." his voice was calm, the deadly glare in his husband's eyes dying down but not fully going away. "I'm going to serve lunch. Rest a little more, I can bring your food here if you want-"

"I can do it myself." Erik's voice was sharp, making Charles take a deep breath - the conversation ended there.

"Alright. Call me if you need something."

Later, at night, as they laid down to sleep, he felt Erik's finger poking him on the ribs gently, Charles' eyes opening to look at his husband as he laid on his side and stared at him from his pillow - Erik's mind seemed agitated and worried.

"I still find it difficult for our child to be born human," Erik started, eyes looking at Charles in the dark; Charles only waited for what would come next. "But if they are, I will love them either way. I don't think I could do anything but that."

Charles stared at his husband for a moment more in the dark, seeing the truth in Erik's words, although he could still see some discomfort with the idea of their child being a human. He knew that, if it was the case, Erik would be true to his words at least.

"And they'll love you in return. They already do."

Erik smiled lightly, the curve of his lips half hidden by the darkness of the room, but there was just light enough for Charles to see.

Erik scooted closer, stomach bumping against Charles' side as he tried getting closer, making him frown as he realized it would become harder and harder to hug Charles as time passed. With a chuckle, Charles held Erik close as well, placing a kiss to the top of his head and closing his eyes again as he thought about the future, the peaceful and strange thoughts of their child and Erik's calming mind lulling him to sleep.

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

No Judgement | peter parker x chubby!fem!reader

@juliebean247​ asked: Hii! I’m pretty new to tumblr but I’ve read most of your work and I’m in love with it all!! I dunno if you do peter x reader (if you don’t that’s ok, just ignore lmao) but maybe where we have chubby!reader who jokingly puts herself down all the time and peter just kinda snaps at her for doing it because he can’t stand the comments she makes- because he’s crushing on her...? Again- you don’t have to do this one or you can change it up!

requests are now closed

Summary: You are you, and damn you love it. Everyone knows it too, and they love you. Joking about yourself is common. But as soon as you feel down, you can’t stop but put yourself down. Sometimes harshly. And Peter can’t take it anymore.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angsty (mention of fat shaming, insecurities), a tiny bit of language (nothing too bad) but fluff at then end 

Word Count: 1945

A/N: first time (really) writing about our Spidey boy! 🎉🕷 also I kinda take my time with writing so sorry it took me a bit 😅 but I only feel accomplished when Like what I write sooooo bare with me please? 🙄🙊 anyway! thank you for your request sweetheart, I hope you will all like this little angsty fluffy as much as I do~ 💞 AND LOVE YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL BEAUTIFUL!!! 💖💜💖💜

masterlist

To hell with all beauty standards and perfection stereotypes!

You love your body as it is, from the smallest imperfection on your face to your curves and extra skin. And needless to say you are proud to show it. But sometimes other people’s look can be harsh on you, full of judgements as they don’t even know you but any opportunity is an open door to criticism.

So you got use to it like you didn’t care, and even made fun of it. More like made fun of yourself, actually.

“Man, her legs put together are the size of one thigh of mine!” you chuckle as you eat in the cafeteria next to MJ, Peter and Ned. All the table look at who you are talking about.

MJ playfully elbows you in the waist as she drinks her glass of water. “Shush (Y/N), everyone compares Bethany as a walking chopstick anyway.”

“I knoooow” you reply with a playful tone, munching on your pasta.

“You also look like chopsticks MJ, like from head to toes. Damn girl, you could just fly away with the wind!” you giggle while trying to steal in MJ’s plate. “And I will just stick to the ground like a pole!”

Even if you are laughing at yourself, you are actually the only one. You don’t catch MJ rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh, Ned being kind of confused and Peter... well, clearly being annoyed.

“Alriiiiiight you little brat, stop talking crap ‘cause you still have to explain the last lesson to me before next class starts” grumbles MJ as she stands, her now empty tray in hand before taking it away.

“Yup girl, coming!” you announce, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin.

Peter follows each of your moves. All done eating you too stand, put your bag on your back and take your tray ready to follow MJ, who is already waiting for you near the exit of the cafeteria.

“Alright guys, see you in chemistry!” you happily sing while showing your biggest smile to the boys before leaving the table to join MJ.

The constant chattering of the students in the background hides the silent at the table. Ned finishes his yogurt before talking to Peter, but he stops himself when he notices his friend’s face. Tensed. Annoyed. And sad maybe? Ned has actually an idea of what is bothering his friend so much but knowing Peter’s personality, it would be a waste of time. Better to skirt the issue.

“(Y/N) is acting a bit weird recently, don’t you think?”

Peter only hums, more focus on mixing what is left of his yogurt than anything else right now. Head low and furrowed eyebrows, he keeps staring at actually nothing, just being lost in his thought and thinking. 

Thinking a lot, yes. About you. About how much you put yourself down way too much recently.

He can’t laugh at your cheeky comments anymore. He just can’t.

* * * *

Chemistry is your last class of the day, thanks the lords. You are finally reunited with all your three best friends so, hopefully the hours will pass by faster.

MJ writes (more like scribbles) lazily the answers for the report your duo has to give back at the end of the lesson, while you are the one having fun mixing whatever there is in the test tubes. Then you take an empty one and look through it.

“MJ, look” you whisper to your friend, trying to catch her attention. At first she doesn’t even care to turn her head towards you, until you insist by calling-whispering her name until she finally deigns to glance at you. Not really understanding what you want to show her, MJ brings her lab stool closer to you and frowns as she looks through your test tube. You brings the tube closer to both your faces.

“Look, Lara’s ass is as big as mine now” you kind of try to whisper, as well as not laughing out loud to not get reprimanded by the teacher.

In fact the glass tube deforms everything you look at when watching through it. And in that case, it is changing the shapes of your comrade’s bottom. MJ seems unimpressed and with her well-known bitch resting face, the girl simply goes back to her writings but not without sending you “are you serious?” glances.

Little did you know Peter could hear all your conversation, even three desks behind. The displeased look on his face is immediately showing and he almost breaks the pen he is using to write on the due paper. The slight crack of the plastic draws Ned’s attention.

“Dude, that’s my favourite pen!”

“Sorry, mate” grumbles Peter, putting the pen down and he sighs, leaning his elbows on the lab desk. He exhales loudly while ruffling at his hair. 

“You should talk to (Y/N), don’t you think so?” declares Ned as he takes two test tubes in his hands to deal with their contents. “You know, just to tell her how you feel and stuff like that.”

“I don’t know, man” retorts Peter with a low voice, his head now hidden in his arms. “I just- I can’t just say “hey (Y/N), stop running yourself down all the time because you are gorgeous in every way and I had a crush on you since high school and-”

“Peter stop, you’re mumbling like a freak” exclaims Ned, hoping to end his friend’s suffering. “Seriously, I noticed the face you do when she jokes about herself. I mean, maybe she’s not feeling great so you talking to her might sort things out somehow?”

Peter processes Ned’s words as his eyes follows you when you go ask something to the teacher. There is something about the kindness that emanates from your pretty eyes, the pink outline of your lips, the unique way your hair curves perfectly around your round face, but mostly your hourglass figure. Sometimes the boy finds hard to keep his eyes up. But you look so beautiful to him. That is mainly the reason why Peter can’t accept hearing you badmouthing about your appearance anymore.  

* * * *

The ringing bell announces the end of today’s lessons. Students are now filling every corridors, some going to their locker and other already leaving the building.

“I need to take some books in my locker, you coming with me MJ?” you ask your friend.

“Sorry, my mum’s picking me up ‘cause we’re going to my grandma this evening so I have to hurry” explains MJ, not too excited about the thought of it.

“I need to go to my locker too” Peter jumps into the conversation. He directly stares at you, a determined look on his face.

“Oh, uhm- alright then!” you cheer blushing a bit, still taken aback by Peter’s serious tone.

You wave goodbye at MJ and Ned as you start walking to your locker, Peter following close to you and receiving two discrete thumbs up from Ned. 

The main school corridor is now more empty, the steps of the last students resonating and almost fading little by little. You and Peter stop in front of your lockers, them being next to each other and just do your own things by taking and putting down what you need or not. Peter is more like fiddling with stuff, pretending to do something while his goal was obviously talking to you.

When he ears you zipper your backpack shut and close your locker, he violently - but not intentionally - slams his close a bit too harsh, making the loud metallic slap resonate in the empty corridor. You jump at that too and Peter just wants to facepalm himself at his own stupidity. 

“Err (Y/N), can- can we talk?” the boy mutters, now shy because of his sudden loose of confidence.

“Sure Pete, about what?”

Peter gulps as you stare at him, waiting for what he has to say. He is nervous now. How will you react? Good or bad? Will you ignore him after that talk because he offended you or misunderstood the situation? Will you-

“Peter? You’re alright?”

Your soft and worried voice suddenly takes him out of his mixed up thoughts.

“You’re gorgeous (Y/N).”

That is indeed straight to the point. Totally. First you blink a few times, not sure if you heard it right but seeing Peter’s serious face says it all. Your whole face is now blushing at his sudden compliment.

“P-PETER WHY DO YOU-”

“(Y/N), you are the most beautiful girl I know. Like in every way possible. You’re kind, smart, funny, a bit nerdy, outgoing, sometimes eccentric too but it’s part of your personality. But you’re also gorgeous in the way you dress because it shows your beautiful shapes off. You have nothing to be ashamed of in comparison to any other girl. You’re unique and I love everything about you, starting with your cheeks because they’re so round and full, but also your waist because its highlights your defined hips and I could go on and on for hours. It’s everything a boring, shy, awful and introvert guy like me loves. So please, stop putting yourself down all the time. You don’t deserve it and never you will. I don’t like that and I just want you to know that I loved you since high school and that I-”

You cut Peter off in his mumbling by putting both your hands on his mouth. When he finally stops - also remembering to breath again -, he finally notices how much your face and ears are red. You avoid looking at him, still not fully processing all the compliments and obvious declaration of love. Your heartbeats could almost break through your ribcage and your mind is a mess.

Seeing you conflicting with yourself, Peter takes your hands off his mouth and gently keep them in his. His look tries to search for yours.

“(Y/N), I’m serious about what I said. You know I’m awful with words but... Trust me when I say I love everything about you, a lot, so please love yourself as much as I do.”

After calming down a bit, you dare to look at Peter again, his eyes soft and reassuring. You are still at a loose of words because nobody said any of the beautiful things Peter just did to you. Nobody. And it warms your heart knowing that someone loves you how you are. You love it even more because you know it is Peter.

Peter squeezes your hands and with a impulse out of nowhere, he lightly pecks the corner of your mouth. He then moves his face back, smiling warmly at you.

“When you’re with me, there is no judgement (Y/N).”

“J-Jeez, Peter...” you stutter, you face still red of shyness.

“I’m walking you back home, come on” Peter mans himself up, noticing the school is completely empty with not a sound around. Detaching his hands from you, he picks your backpack up to give it to you. You take it with wobbling  hands, muttering a shy “thanks” before putting it on your back. Now ready to go, Peter extends one hand for you to take and this time, you don't have to be told twice. 

Hand in hands, fingers intertwine, you both walk through the long corridor, only you two remaining here. Peter’s warm hand reassures you in a strange way. But you like it. 

And you can’t stop the content smile growing on your face as you sneak a look at the boy who just proved you are worth it. Inside out. From head to toes.

And boy do you love this feeling.

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[rpd-rookie]

I’ll Make An Agent Out Of You - Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: Leon has started training with the US.STRAT.COM but he still has much to learn. Hopefully, you’re an amazing teacher. If only you were less attractive.

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long to publish this. It had to struggle with procrastination and lack of inspiration. But it’s here now. Though, not as good as I thought it would be. Hope you will like it. 

Warning: Language, NSFW (masturbation and explicit sexual content) 

Panting and exhausted, pearls of sweat rolling over his toned chest and muscular back and often dropping onto the mat, Leon had been relentlessly training for hours with an incredible focus and determination.   His fists were burning, knuckles and fingers reddened from punching the leather bag over and over. They hurt a bit, tickled mostly, but the overall sensation felt so good nevertheless, steam blowing off more and more with every punch.

Music was playing in the training room. A song he used to love so much before but that he hated now, a song he couldn’t help but listen to and that could take him back to a night he could never forget. “Forget yesterday. It ain’t worth the pain. The pain of remembering.”           But Leon wanted to remember. He wanted to remember everything, all the horrors he had seen, and all the people he hadn’t been able to save. Marvin, Ada, the gun shop owner and his daughter, every one in Raccoon City. They were his fuel, the only thing that made him want to fight, want to win, want to see Umbrella fall. The only thing that made this tiresome training with the US.STRAT.COM worth going through.

Vivid bloody images flashed in his head and his fists hit the bag again, harder this time, as animalistic groans of frustration and rage escaped his mouth. “Someone’s angry.” Leon jumped slightly and turned around.

You were standing against the doorway, watching him, arms crossed over your chest. “Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know you were here.”                   “It’s okay. It gave me to opportunity to see how you do against a poor defenceless punching ball.” Leon chuckled and you approached him with an amused small smile on your face. “And?”             “You’re terrible, Kennedy.” You confessed with a sharp sincerity that you didn’t even try to soften, knowing that it would not take it too seriously. “That bad?” He joked.         “They’re some nice punches but you should move your legs more. Fighting is not just using your fists and your arms. You need to use all your body. Here.” You placed yourself in front of the bag to slowly show him in details what you meant. “Knuckles up, fingertips facing the ground. And as you punch, you pivot both feet to the right, put your right heel down and left heel up. Pivoting your feet gives more power to your hook and make sure your hand and hips and feet all move as one.” Then you repeated the movement at a quicker speed to demonstrate how efficient it truly was. Leon watched, genuinely impressed and wondering where you had learnt this. A question he would ask another time. “Got it?”         “Think so.”

You invited him to give it a try and he placed himself back in front of the bag to throw a few punches, following your advice to the letter like a very attentive student. And it didn’t surprise you. It actually fitted his righteous and grounded behaviour. “Not bad.” You admitted. “I’m a quick learner.” He dared brag with a smile but it was more adorable than arrogant. “Don’t push it, would you? It’s just a punching bag. Wait till you try to do that against a real person.”         “Like our dear friend Marine Guy?” He winked, enthusiastic, knowing you couldn’t stand the man as much as he couldn’t stand him. “Someone does want a revenge. Angry he smashed your pretty face in?” You pointed at the ugly purple bruise and the stitched cut on his right brow, the result of a nasty uppercut thrown by Marine Guy yesterday during fighting class. It didn’t look good at all. “I’ve been through worse … but do you really think I’m pretty?” He smirked proudly and almost seductively, in a way that could have made you shiver if Leon hadn’t such a baby face. You shook your head, amused and exasperated. Such cheekiness didn’t really suit him and you actually never thought he had that in him. After all, he always seemed so sweet and polite, so perfect, almost childish and innocent even, a bit like a boy scout. “Pretty like a baby.” You scoffed and he laughed briefly before showing a bright smile. “I always knew I should try to grow a beard.” He said as he scratched his non-existent stubble “We both know you can’t.” You teased and he pretended to be offended. “Ouch. That was mean.”           It was your turn to laugh, amused by his adorableness and thinking that you were lucky to finally have a man like him to train with. You liked Leon. He was so open-minded and so tolerant, always treating you like an equal, not like those machos goggling and whistling at you each time you were working out.

“Anyway. If you want to take down Marine Guy you must work on your speed. I noticed you were exclusively focused on your strength. It’s wrong. While fighting someone like him – or anyone bigger than you for that matter - you must not do that.  You must rely on things like speed and agility, aptitudes big guys like him lack. See what I mean?”       “Yes. But how?”         “Come here.” You waved him to follow you to the centre of the room and put yourself in fighting position, arms up, ready to defend yourself. “Try and hit me.”           “I’m not gonna hit you.” He retorted, shocked, and you sighed. Of course.     “Why not?” You dared ask, expecting the answer he was about to give you. “You’re a woman.” Bull’s eye. And not surprising at all. Leon had that knight in shining armour aura around him. It was oozing out of him. But that was not misogynistic. It simply suited his personality: caring and protective. “And that was your biggest mistake.”

You quickly kicked him hard in the calves. Leon grunted as he lost his balance and you used the moment as an opportunity to immobilise his body with your hips and legs and throw him above your head as you rolled over to slam him on the mat. Leon’s back hit the ground with a loud thump that made him gasp and almost moan in pain and you kept him flat against the floor using all your weight. “What the fuck?” He cursed, breathless. “Never underestimate an opponent.” You said, straddling him and keeping his hands pinned over his head. “What was that?”             “A suplex.” You calmly responded as Leon was squirming under your body to get away from your grip. “And you lost.” You tightened your grip around his wrists and laid more against his body, feeling the muscles of his burning chest against yours. You never thought he was that strong. “You’ve got to teach me that.” He sounded very excited and impressed and his eagerness pleased you a lot. Rare were the persons that asked you for lessons.     “Someday.” You smiled softly. “But first try to master what I taught you today.”         “I’ll do my best.” He grinned and you let go of his wrists to tap on his chest, still sitting on top of him. “I’m sure you will.” You said but suddenly saw Leon’s face turn a bright red. “You’re okay?”

He was not. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest and he could feel a terrible hotness started flowing in his entire body especially in his lower area upon which you were comfortably sitting. He gulped, blue eyes scanning his surroundings to find a way to escape from underneath you while his mind was weirdly focused on your body pressed against him.

“Leon?” You removed your hands and adjusted yourself on top of him but your small movement made him hiss and curse and realise the hard erection building in his pants. “Fuck.” He pushed you away and quickly got up, refusing to face you, definitely embarrassed in a way he had never been before. “Are you alright?” You asked, genuinely concerned. “I’m fine. Sorry Y/N. Really … I…” He mumbled as he cleared his voice, trying to get rid of the weird knot that was choking his throat and doing everything he could to hide his growing bulge.     “I’ve gotta go.” He said before rushing towards the changing room, ignoring you calling his name.

Once alone and in front of his locker, Leon looked down at his pants. The bulge was huge now, impossible not to notice. “You gotta be kidding me.” He sighed and hit his forehead against the cold metal of his locker, eyes closed and muttering his embarrassment and shame. That was bad. That was really bad.  That was disgusting. He was disgusting. Poor Y/N. Hopefully she didn’t notice. But come on. How did that happen? He wasn’t sixteen anymore. He should be able to control his body. This, this hard-on, that wasn’t worthy of him. That was puerile and … Fuck, he needed to get rid of it and fast.

He quickly started to undress himself, clumsily dropping all his clothes to the ground. Once in his underwear, he dared glance at his hard on again. His underwear was stained with pre-cum and his throbbing bulge hidden beneath the skin-tight fabric was begging for release. He chose not to touch it and immediately entered the nearest shower. Hopefully it would fix this. He was wrong. The cold water didn’t do shit except making him grunt because of how freezing it was. It didn’t do anything because his brain was venturing towards obscene images of you.

Images of you, removing your sports clothes on top of him, undulating against his bulge in a way that was driving him insane and even hornier. “Fuck.” He groaned as he leant against the shower wall, his cock twitching and begging to be touched under the wet fabric of his boxers. “Why now?” He tried to breathe and think about something else, hoping it would help him getting rid of his hard-on. He thought about everything, from Marine Guy to Raccoon City and even about his mother but it didn’t work, his brain still finding its way back to you.

Finally admitting his defeat against his arousal and his frustration, Leon quickly looked around to check if he was indeed alone in the locker room and then immediately pulled down his underwear.     His cock sprang free, all hard and perfectly erected, the tip reddened and glistening and Leon reluctantly allowed himself to sigh, relieved, as he touched it with his fingertips. It was so sensitive it hurt a bit and maybe that was better this way.       He grabbed his shaft, feeling the small veins ready to burst, and spit on it to lube it. He looked up around him again as he spread his saliva mixed with his pre-cum along his cock. That first contact sored. And Leon hesitated to continue for a few seconds, his mind stuck between lust and reason.             It took him a couple of seconds to finally give in to what most men would have given in to. He started jerking himself off, slowly, looking away from his penis. “What the hell, Leon?” He told himself, his length in his hand.

The caress made him hiss. That was creepy. As creepy as imagining you riding him and bouncing on top him, perky breasts calling for his mouth. He wasn’t like that. That’s now how it had been raised. Gosh, his mother would kick his butt from here to Kentucky if she knew.

But then he actually dared imagine your rosy nipples between his lips and his mouth sucking on them greedily. “Jesus.” He cursed as he quickened his pace, a tighter grip around his cock, imagining your pussy around him instead of his fingers, a feeling of terrible guilt mixed with his lust for you.             He told himself again and again that it was awful and disgusting, that he should be ashamed, that he wasn’t a teenager with raging hormones anymore, that he should be able to control such urges.   But then, as pleasure started to take full possession of his entire body, he forgot about all this. He forgot about everything and he let his mind dream of all the things he would do to you if he actually had you against him.

His movements became faster, going up and down intensely and his left hand began massaging his balls. Goodness, he wished this hand was yours, wished to hear the sound of your moans coming from your agape mouth, wished to see the lust tinting your eyes and feel your hand toying with his length. He wished he could fuck relentlessly right now.

Leon’s grip became suddenly very sloppy and he stared panting in a very unusual way. Even training could not make him breathe that irregularly. “Fuck.” He growled between his gritted teeth. He was so close and he wanted to cum so badly.     And so he shut his eyes tight again and let himself growl as he kept pumping his cock for the last times. He was loud, probably too loud despite his attempts to stay quiet. His stomach tensed and then he felt his thick sticky hot cum spurt on his toned abs. He milked his cock until there was no drop left, grunting and imagining his sperm covering your gorgeous body instead of his.

When he managed to open his eyes again, he couldn’t help but notice the mess he had done in the shower. There was so much cum. That was crazy. It had never cum that much before. It was literately flowing on his stomach down the shower drain. “Fuck.” He whispered again as he wiped it off with his fingers and splashed it away to get rid of it, wishing he could get rid of his shame that easily.

But despite it, he was forced to admit it had definitely felt good.

Probably not as good as real sex but he wouldn’t know... yet

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight)

“Alright, remember everyone: this is a rescue mission.” The Doctor, a knife as long as her forearm in hand, was giving a final brief to her team. “We already have ground teams clearing the streets of Reunion so we can get in, find survivors, and get them out of here to somewhere much, much safer, whether that’s RI or somewhere else. Do not engage hostiles unless absolutely necessary, especially since they may be confused civilians and not Reunion. Are we all clear on our objectives here?”

A hand came up in the back of the vehicle. “When do we meet back here?”

“You’ll rendezvous with our mobile command center whenever you escort survivors to it. Once you’ve filled your van, you’ll stand by the MCC to provide additional security, as the more people we find, the more likely tensions might rise. Thank you for the question, Fang...Anything else?”

“If a civilian does attack us,” Gavial added, “we try non-lethal force first, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, incapacitate as a first measure. If that is insufficient...do what you need to for the sake of the rest of those you find. Alright, going once...Twice...Each Squad has been given a direction; each of you should have a navigator to make sure you’re mostly sticking to that direction. Watch your GPS units, notate where you search and where you find survivors. Let’s go. Anyone who doesn’t know where you’re going, you’re with me.” And with that final clarification, each team found their assigned van, and the rescue team dispersed.

“Do you want to drive, Doctor?” Amiya gestured to their van.

“That I do not.” She handed her protege the keys. “But I do call shotgun.”

Gravel bolted into the vehicle. “I call behind the Doctor!”

“The undying thirst continues.” Warfarin rolled her eyes but nonetheless followed the Zalak’s lead.

“I did remember to teach you how to drive stick-shift, yes?” The Doctor asked once they were all in the car.

Amiya gave her a quizzical look. “Dr. Kal’tsit taught me to drive, Doctor.”

“Oh...” She looked around for a second seatbelt before taking a deep breath. “Well, girls, this might be a little bumpier than I expected...”

And with that, the Caster set her pedal to the metal, and they were off.

“From what I remember, we encountered a heavy presence coming from the direction of Peterheim Middle, so we should at least make a pass by it...Left at this intersection.” The Doctor had given herself the role of navigator for her team.

“I see a flag!” Meteor called out. “Right side of the road, two buildings up!...If you can call it a building still.”

Savage grimaced. “Geez. It looks like it collapsed in on itself.”

“Catapult’s work. Just the blast residue is enough to identify that much...Amiya.”

“Right.” She slammed the breaks, accidentally turning it just enough to send it spinning out of control for a moment. Luck was with her, however, as the spiral left them not only still on the road, but on the sidewalk next to the crimson flag. “Um...Sorry about that!”

The passengers recollected themselves quick, fast, and in a hurry to get to the business at hand. “Savage, looks like you’ve got some work to do.”

“If there are people in there, though, I might hurt them. I don’t have fine control over how much force I transfer...”

“If you swing at the left wall, it’ll destabilize it to the point the rest of the debris will fall to that side.” The Doctor gestured with her blade to a point in the left wall. “Flag’s on the right side, better chance they’re on that side than the other.”

Gravel returned from a trip around the building. “They’re on the left! I just talked to someone named Rada! They’re all in the kitchen, along this wall!”

“The wall I was gonna smash for you, Doctor~” Savage walked over to the right wall of the building, looking for the best place to hit from.

“Thanks, Gravel.” The Doctor sighed. “Alright, Warfarin, be ready for first aid just in case. Meteor, you’re on overwatch, just in case. Amiya, Gravel and I will standby to help them get out-”

There was a *boom* as the already degraded structure fell in on its right side, removing a great deal of the rubble stacked precariously in the center and making the left side seem manageable. “Step 1 done! I wonder if-”

“Gah!” Accompanied by the sound of someone exerting a great deal of effort, a single brick was pushed out, followed by a hand. 

“Alright, new plan!” The Doctor dashed towards the rock pile. “Everyone except Warfarin, let’s clear this rubble out!”

As four pairs of hands worked to safely clear away bricks in order to leave a hole without collapsing any on those trapped inside, the hand that broke through initially revealed itself to belong to a teal-haired Ursus girl in a tattered middle school uniform, looking for all the world as if she’d crawled on her hands and knees through hell and back. Another figure, a blonde Ursus, joined in as well, babbling her thanks as Gravel and Amiya tried to calm her down. Eventually, they’d safely cleared enough for a crawlspace, which they both climbed through, followed by three more of what could only be presumed were their classmates.

As Warfarin administered diagnostics and emergency nutrition, one of the survivors, a reddish streak visible in her hair even through caked blood and dirt, walked over to the flag as if in a trance and tore the cloth from the pole before wrapping it around her arm. Amiya noted this as Warfarin gave the Doctor the details of her scans. “Principle concern is dehydration - they’re surprisingly well-fed, all things considered, and most of the blood isn’t theirs. Even so, their adrenaline is causing massive spikes in their heart rate, so I would advise returning to the MCC so they can be calmed and more properly attended to.”

“Hmm...Yes, we should probably-”

“Savage!” Meteor called from further down the street. “We’ve got another one!”

The Cautus bounded that direction, skidding to a stop in front of a cellar door with what might’ve been a slab of foundation keeping it from being opened; through a crack in the boards that composed it, another Ursus person was visible, breathing feebly. “...Stand back!” With a grunt, she swung at the offending chunk of concrete, powdering it completely, before helping the Kuranta wrench open the door and retrieve another school-aged survivor. “Her heartbeat is so slow...We’ve got to move. Doctor! Start the van!”

“Amiya, the keys?” She handed them over instantly. “Thank you. Savage, can you hold her- Holy shit.”

“With all due respect, now’s not the time to stall out!”

“Right, right! Everyone’s in?” Confirmation from her team, acknowledgment from the teal-haired survivor. “Vroom.”

-----

“She really said ‘vroom’ as she drove us back?” Leto asked Istina as the six members of the USSGG sat around the dinner table.

“She did,” the advisor nodded. “It was such a strange occurrence, I’d be rather hard-pressed to forget it.”

Zima tore off a piece of steak as she said, “I was sure I took a bandana, not a flag.”

“They called it a flag, whatever it was originally. More tea, Zoya?”

“No, I’ve had enough, thank you.” Absinthe sighed. “This does explain why Meteor has her eye on me, despite the fact I’m not a Sniper.”

Gummy nodded. “She’s also really friendly. We should go to one of her board game nights some time!”

“That sounds like a great idea. Natalya, did you get everything you need?”

 “Yes, this should be sufficient.” The Sniper finished her notes with a flourish. “I must say, I’m impressed you remember so much about that day, considering the state we were in.”

Istina shrugged. “There are some moments you can never, must never forget...As we all know quite well.”

“Mmhmm.” Six Ursus nodded their heads in unison.

“I should take this to the Doctor before her shift ends.” Rosa set her teacup in the middle of her empty plate and stood up. “Don’t start the movie without me.”

The general flashed her a mutinous smirk. “No promises.”

“Right. I’ll be back soon!”

“...So are we starting the movie?” Leto asked, looking around the table. “I mean, we can at least get the trailers out of the way, right?”

The chef got up. “Zoya, can you help me with the dishes tonight?”

“Sure, Rada.” Absinthe took her own plate, Zima’s, and Leto’s, and walked off to the kitchen.

“It feels like we’re a real family now, doesn’t it?” Leto leaned back in her chair, pushing her legs against the round table’s center post. “Like a sisterhood or something!”

Zima gave her a quizzical look. “Family, sure, but sisterhood? Your brain stays on after 2100 hours, right?”

“I dunno, Sonya. Deepcolor has a couple books that-”

“That’s enough of that.” Istina took her place in the precisely-established TV room arrangement. “We’re waiting for them to finish with the dishes before starting the movie, yes?”

The general and brawler followed her, with Zima giving the advisor a nod. “And for Nat, is she’s not back by then.”

“Oh? So she is growing on you, huh?” Leto tapped her target’s shoulder playfully.

“Yeah. That a problem?” She grinned back, returning the play-punch a little harder. “I won’t hesitate, bitch.”

The brawler tackled her, landing squarely in the brawl-space Istina and Rosa had set aside specifically for moments like this. “Then I won’t, either!”

“...Hopefully Natalya returns before one of them knocks the other unconscious.”

[matth1w]

I was wondering if you could write this please: Imagine being Lucifer Morningstar’s long term girlfriend but as a result of fearing the relationship isn’t going anywhere she leaves him. Then after some time she’s a witness in an investigation and Lucifer later will propose to her? Thank you!!

Witness

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Summary: After the fear of your relationship going nowhere, you end things with Lucifer. End of the story, right? Well you just so happen to witness a drive-by and get wrapped up in the Devil again.

Warnings: Breakup, angst, language, some anxiety/panic

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 4,715. Yes, you read that correctly, 4,715 words.

Note: This is mostly sad but does have a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this, Nonnie. It certainly took a life of its own!

Tags: @kittenlittle24

As a wedding photographer, you were definitely put off with the whole overpriced over the top wedding culture that infected LA. And you had to deal with a plenty couples and guests that were just straight jerks, entitled brats, and thought they could do your job on the freaking iPhone 4.

That said, sometimes it did get to you. You wanted it. Well some of it. None of the family arguments or drama but the ability to stand with your partner and dedicate yourselves to each other in front of your family and friends.

But alas, that didn’t seem to be in the cards for you. You and Lucifer had been together almost five years now and there was nothing that indicated he wanted to take the next step with you.

Sure marriage seemed trivial when you were with the literal Devil, but you couldn’t help but want something more. Of course you trusted him, you knew his flirting was harmless and he would never think of acting on his - or someone else’s - desires.

But… still

Sure you should talk to him like an adult and tell him how you were feeling but that doesn’t always happen.

You had come home after a Sunday wedding, a Catholic one nonetheless. With a full mass. And a reception across town from the ceremony. To say you were exhausted was an understatement.

The only consolation was that the couple was going on a technology-free honeymoon for a few weeks and wouldn’t be bothering you for photos tomorrow like some clients.

Sore feet, a slight headache, and just general annoyance were plaguing you. So it’s no wonder a fight broke out.

You were pouring yourself a glass of water when the elevator doors opened, revealing Lucifer. You paid him no mind but apparently he had other plans.

“Another wedding?”, he sighed as he gave you a once over.

You frowned at that, “Yep”, you bit back with a touch too much of bitterness.

“I don’t understand why you insist on doing those silly things.”

You slammed your glass down.

“Silly?” You spat. “Silly, Lucifer?”

He was looking at you, shocked but annoyed at your outburst.

“Yes, silly, darling. They’re just excuses to party and for women to pretend like they’re the most important princess in the world.”

You stepped forward and pointed your finger at him.

“Newsflash, Morningstar. Some people just want something more than being boyfriend and girlfriend for the rest of their lives.”

“Rest of their lives? Is this about us? It’s only been five years, Y/N.”

“Yeah, and some of these fucks get married after one. It’s been five years, Lucifer, and nothing has changed. You haven’t mentioned marriage once aside from criticizing my clients.”

“And what? You want to get married? Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, for God’s sake!”, you shouted.

“Well why didn’t you just say that?”

“Because, Lucifer, I know you don’t. And seemingly never will.”

His eyes narrowed at that. “And you’re so sure of that? Without having even spoken to me?”

You crossed your arms and looked at him accusingly.

“You want to get married?”

Lucifer paused at that, mouth open but saying nothing.

“That’s what I thought.” Tears started to build up in your eyes. “Well. I think that shows this isn’t meant to be. Wish you wouldn’t have wasted so much of my time.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s over, Lucifer. I’ll get my stuff and get out of your life by the end of the week.”

You didn’t look back as you stepped into the elevator and let the doors close.

— — —

15 months later...

‘Oh fuck’, was your first thought.

Not because there was a dead person in front of you, but because you witnessed it. And because you witnessed it, you’d need to go down to the station. And you just knew you would run into Lucifer.

You looked down at your phone to send a text to Dan. You hadn’t spoken since you and Lucifer broke up so you kept it brief. Hopefully he’d give you a break.

-Just witnessed a drive-by on 15th & Hill. Can I give my statement at a later time when you know who won’t be there?-

Your phone rang and you cursed. You thought about just shutting off your phone but you knew that would just cause more trouble.

You clicked accept and brought the phone to your ear.

“Hey D-“

“Are you alright, Y/N? Are you still on the scene? Stay where you are. We’re on our way.”

“Dan! I’m fine. I’m fine.” You pressed.

“And who do you mean by we? I’d prefer to not have to see anyone I don’t need to.”

“Sorry, Y/N, but Chloe and Lucifer are already on their way to the scene. I can be the one to take your statement but I won’t be able to get there before them.”

‘Great’, you thought.

You sighed, “That’s fine, Dan. See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You hung up and looked around. A small crowd had begun to form.

‘Might as well try to blend in’.

You spent the next few minutes on your phone, trying to blend in with the crowd and keep your head down.

A throat pointedly cleared behind you and you knew who it was before you turned.

You met the eyes of Lucifer, unable to look away. He was trying to mask whatever emotions he was feeling and gave you a fake sugary sweet smile.

“A little douchie told me you witnessed the shooting. I have to say I’m glad you’re alright but I’m rather surprised you called Daniel. Actually, I guess I’m not since you blocked my number and all that.”

You looked down. You didn’t want to just go out and say ‘I was trying to avoid you because I was - and still am - broken hearted’, so instead you just looked away.

“Lucifer!”, Chloe yelled from her place above the body.

She looked at you and smiled with a visible amount of pity clear on her face.

“Well. If you’ll excuse me, Y/N.” He said with a huff, shrugging his suit jacket and straightening his cuff links.

Cuff links, you noted, that weren’t the ones you had gotten him for your third anniversary and had worn ever since.

You let out the breath you had been holding and slumped as he walked back to the scene.

Thankfully, Chloe was able to keep Lucifer preoccupied for the next few minutes until Dan arrived.

You felt mixed feelings seeing your old friend and ex-boyfriend’s coworker but relief overcame everything else.

At least you could get out of there.

Dan walked over to you with open arms. You accepted the hug and gave him a thankful smile.

“Well, wanna hop in and head over to the station? Shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

You shrugged, “Sounds good. Thanks again, Dan. Hope I’m not being too much of a bother.”

He waved his hand, “Nah, gives me a chance to get some fresh air. Plus I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You gave an awkward smile at that and didn’t comment. You didn’t know what all Lucifer had said about your breakup and realized how awkward the situation was.

Biting your tongue, you walked to the car and hopped in. Thankfully, Dan was pretty silent, turning on the radio to instead fill the air.

Once at the station, you walked in and were hit with a wave of memories. You would often come down to grab lunch with Lucifer, help celebrate birthdays, or bring treats to help when the team was dealing with a difficult case.

You tried to steel your face but Dan was already looking at you.

Thankfully he didn’t say anything. Opting instead to lead you to the interrogation room.

Once inside you sat down at the metal table. You took a moment to breathe, just trying to get through this then you could go back to how things were.

When you looked up at Dan, you saw him standing by the door, looking somewhat nervous.

“Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”, he asked while moving to sit down across from you.

You nodded. Fairly certain what he was going to ask about.

“What happened with you and Lucifer? I mean... you guys seemed lso happy.”

“Lu didn’t tell you?”

“Nah. None of the details anyway. Just that you had some big fight and he was an idiot about it.”

You chuckled dryly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. I mean, I was too. Probably more so than him.”

You cleared your throat, “Anyway, that’s behind me. I mean it’s been over a year, it’s time to move on.”

“You really think so?”, Dan asked.

“Yeah. Well I’m sure he already has. And then some. So I might as well...” you saw Dan looking at you like you sprouted another head. “What?”

He laughed, “Nothin’. I just...” he cocked his head and paused, trying to think of how best to phrase it.

“Between you and me, that’s not the case.”

You gave a half smile, knowing what he was trying to say.

“And who knows? It might be worth trying again.”

“I don’t think there’s any fixing things.” You sighed and lowered your head.

Dan gave you a gentle nudge on the shoulder across the table. Like he had so many times before.

“People reconcile all the time. I mean, look at me and Chloe.”

You looked up again at that.

“You two are officially back together?”

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Surprisingly it’s thanks to Luc-“

He coughed awkwardly. “Well. Anyway... want to get into your statement?”

You sighed. Relieved to be talking about the shooting rather than hear more about your ex.

— — —

You stood up after giving your statement to Dan. He went to open the door but paused.

“Hey, I know things... you know... Anyway, it was good seeing you, Y/N. Even under these circumstances. You don’t have to be a stranger.”

You smiled sadly at that.

“Yeah. It was good to see you too. I’m happy to hear about you and Chlo.”

Dan smiled and pressed the file in his hands.

“Well, ready to go?”

“Yep. No offense but I just want to go home.”

He laughed in response to that, “Yeah I get that. Lucifer always said you never liked the whole crime thing.”

You started to laugh but fell silent, realizing how easy it was to fall back into your friendship with Dan and just how much you missed your old life.

Dan opened the door for you and you walked through. Unhappy but not surprised at the sight before you. Lucifer stood on the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, you good?” Dan muttered to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You kept your eyes on Lucifer, who prickled at the sight of Dan touching you.

You looked away and smiled at Dan.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You walked up to Lucifer and smiled briefly before having to take your eyes away. It was hard just being near him. Looking into those beautiful brown eyes was simply too much.

Lucifer smiled softly at you, that cautious, nervous smile he wore when you two had first started dating.

“Let me drive you home?”

You wanted to agree but then remembered home wasn’t what it had been for so long. Now you were in a new home. And you were unsure about letting him inside it. It was a sanctuary from him. You tried desperately to focus on life without him and it helped having a place he had never been.

“I...” you were unsure of what to do until you saw the pleading look in his eyes. You relented.

“Sure”

You walked side by side with Lucifer, and it felt so strange not holding hands or being close. You stopped once you entered the parking garage. For some reason your didn’t realize you’d be taking the Corvette.

You had so many memories in the passenger seat of that car. Driving through the hills and the wind flowing through your hair, late night drives with music blasting and singing together at the top of your lungs, holding hands on the shift, peppering kisses on his cheek and lips at red lights...

It was too much.

All too much.

Tears started to come forward and you sniffled, trying to conceal your emotions but only achieving in alerting him. I mean, you had stopped in your tracks at the sight of the Corvette and were now trying not to cry. But still, it was embarrassing.

And how would you ride in his car next to him? Being so close to him, in the car you two shared so many memories in, taking him to your new home.

House, not home. He was home. And nowhere you were without would ever be home.

Too much.

You wrung your hands, starting to panic. “I, uh, thanks for the offer Luci, but I actually forgot something inside so go ahead without me.”

It was a shitty lie that you knew Lucifer saw right through, angelic abilities or not. He looked down and tossed the keys in his hand before putting them back in his pocket.

“Right. Well, have a good night, Y/N/N.”

He tried to smile at you but it was just a pitiful look. You met his eyes once more, trying to ignore their shiny mistiness that matched yours.

You smiled one last time, knowing the dam would break any moment. You couldn’t trust your voice so you simply nodded and turned around to walk back.

Once you exited the garage and out of sight, you let out a sob as your back hit the concrete wall. This was all too much. There was too much pain, guilt, regret, and still... love.

That’s what was hardest about seeing him again. The love that was still there and would never leave.

— — —

Once the Uber dropped you off and you went inside your house, you slumped against the wall.

That night, all you could bring yourself to do was cry yourself to sleep.

— — —

The next morning you woke up to a missed call and voicemail. It was from the number you had blocked, then unblocked, then deleted, but never forgot.

You pressed the phone to your ear and heard the soft voice your heard a thousand times before.

“Hello, love. I’m glad to see my call went through. Though I suppose you’re still ignoring my calls. Or sleeping. You always were a sound sleeper... Anyway, just wanted to make sure you got home alright. The Detective said there’s nothing to worry about with the drive-by. Just a silly turf war so we passed it on the gang unit. So... I suppose we won’t run into each other again. It was nice to see you though, darling. I... I miss you.”

There was an extended pause at the end of the message and you expected more but were only met with silence as the voicemail ended.

You looked down at your phone, finger hesitating above the return call button. You didn’t move, instead letting the screen darken.

— — —

You had been avoiding your phone like the plague all morning and afternoon. Doing everything you could to avoid it. You cleaned the house, did laundry, and took a long shower. But finally, you gave in and grabbed it once more.

You saw no messages or missed calls and decided to make that call before you could think twice.

As it rang, your nerves grew.

‘What would you say? Would he even answer? Of course he would answer. He called you. Said he missed you. But would he answ—‘

“Hello?” His voice broke through your cycle of thoughts. Unprepared, you couldn’t reply.

“Y/N, darling, are you there?”, he said with a edge of worry.

You swallowed before responding.

“Yeah, Luci. I’m here.” Your voice broke at the last word.

“Are you okay, love?” Lucifer sounded understandably even more worried now.

You sniffled and nodded. Not trusting your voice but you realized he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m fine. I just uh, got your message.”

Lucifer sighed slightly, relieved you were alright.

“Yes. My apologies if I was too forward.”

You gave a halfhearted laugh, “No, it wasn’t.”

You paused. “I- I miss you too.”

Lucifer was silent. For so long you thought the call had been disconnected.

“Luci?”

“Yes. I’m- I’m here darling. Can I... see you?”

You smiled and sniffled again. Your tears slightly turning to ones of happiness.

“Yes. Of course. I would... like that.”

“How about tonight then? I’ll close Lux and we can order that Indian food you love.”

You smiled, “You don’t have to close Lux for me, Luci.”

“I’d do anything for you, darling.”

He cleared his throat.

“Anyway, tonight? Seven?”

“Yeah. I’ll... see you then.”

“See you then, my dear.” Lucifer said quietly.

As you pulled the phone away from your ear and ended the call, you felt lighter. Lighter than you had since...

You checked the time on your phone and decided to try to focus on getting ready, rather than think more.

— — —

At 6:55, you were standing outside Lux’s front door. With a shaky breath, you stepped inside.

True to his word, Lux was empty sans Lucifer sitting at the piano, playing an unfamiliar tune slowly. Lost in the song, Lucifer didn’t notice you until you had descended the stairs and were leaning against the bar.

He closed the lid and turned on the bench to you.

“Did you like it?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It was beautiful. Though, I don’t recognize it.”

He smirked. “Well I would hope not. I wrote it myself.”

You couldn’t help but be surprised. In all the time you had known Lucifer he hadn’t written anything. Especially not a full song.

He sighed then gave you a smile that you knew was hiding his true feelings.

‘Something about that song...’

Before either of you could continue, a man entered, carrying bags labeled with your favorite Indian place. Just as Lucifer had promised.

Luci climbed the stairs to greet him and grabbed the food. Slipping an extra hundred in the man’s hand as he held the door open for him.

You smiled at Lucifer as he came back downstairs. “You always were the best tipper.”

He laughed, “What, that? An old friend told me about the importance of tipping and I guess it’s been a habit ever since.”

You looked down and smiled. You remembered that. It was one of your first dates. Like Lucifer said, he was always extra generous after that.

“Anyway!”, he said lifting up the bags, “Ready to eat?”

You nodded, almost drooling. You hadn’t been to the restaurant since last year and you knew by the smell Lucifer had gotten your favorite.

Luci set the table, and by setting the table, you meant taking the containers out of the bag and opening the packets of plastic silverware.

You looked at the food on the table then back to Lucifer as he waited for you to sit. It wasn’t right though. You scrunched your nose without realizing and Luci laughed. That hearty laugh when you did something ridiculous.

“Oh, you haven’t changed one bit, dear. Come, let’s move to the couch.”

You smiled brightly at him, thankful he could remember your quirks.

You two sat down nearby each other, with some room in between, thanks to the large Lux couches compared to the ones he had upstairs.

You filled the air with happy noises of content and talking about what antics Maze and Amenadiel had gotten up to. It was light, fun, and exactly what you needed.

Once your bellies were full, you both sighed happily.

“That was wonderful, thanks Luci. I haven’t had them since...” you trailed off.

He nodded, “Me neither.”

You looked down at your hands, feeling the shift in the mood.

“About that, darling.”, Luci said, scooting slightly towards you.

You furrowed your brow, “Do we have to?”

Lucifer smiled at your whine. “Unfortunately, I think we do.”

At your silence Lucifer cleared his throat.

“I’ll start.” He looked at you and waited until you met his eyes.

“I’m so terribly sorry for everything I said and more so for the things I didn’t.”

You nodded, biting your lip and trying to hide the tears that were soon to come.

Lucifer scooted closer to you and placed his hand on your back, hesitantly and then more firmly after you hadn’t shaken it away.

“Darling, you have to understand the whole marriage thing was so foreign to me. And the whole swearing before Dad bit just seemed ridiculous.”

At your pointed look he stopped speaking for a moment.

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t realize it was so important to you. And I’m sorry. I should have asked. I assure you, if I had known I would have married you the day I met you, Y/N. I knew from the moment I met you you were the one for me.”

“Are you just saying that?”, you questioned. Somewhat insecure.

“No. Of course not, darling. You know I can’t lie.”

At your small smile he continued.

“After you left, I was broken, lost. And when I realized what a mistake I had made, I wanted nothing more than to make it right.”

“So why didn’t you?”, thankfully the tears hadn’t come and your voice was stronger.

“You looked happy,” he sighed. “You seemed to be doing things you always spoke about doing. I didn’t want to ruin that. I thought you were better off.”

“I wasn’t better, Luci. I was just as broken and lost as you were. The reason I was trying new things was because I had to distract myself. It was the only way for me to keep going.”

You leant your head against his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m sorry too, Luci. I should have spoken to you about it earlier. And I shouldn’t have blown up on you like I did.”

You pulled back to look up at him.

“I’m so sorry, Luci. I’m a terrible idiot.”

He smiled down at you and caressed your cheek softly.

“I forgive you, darling.”

The sincerity in his voice broke the dam and you let out a broken sob.

He pulled you in tight and let you cry into his chest, mumbling assurances that he forgave you every time you apologized.

You don’t know when you’d stopped crying. Maybe you ran out of tears.

All you knew was that you awoke some time later. Your throat was dry, eyes puffy, and neck hurt from how you had slept. But, you also felt relaxed. Lighter from the confessions and the tears.

You frowned as you were alone. You rubbed your eyes and picked up your phone on the nearby table. Underneath it was a folded piece of paper with your name written in Lucifer’s handwriting.

You opened and read the note.

My love,

My apologies for not being by your side as you wake up and instead having to leave this. I had to go to a scene. I tried not to but the Detective guilt tripped me. Awful thing to do, really.

Anyway, I assume you’re probably sore from sleeping on this couch. I assure you I tried to get you to come to bed or even on the more comfortable couches upstairs but, well, you know how stubborn and persuasive you can be. Especially when you’re half asleep...

I know you have things to do so I won’t expect you when I return. But I do hope to see you again soon, darling.

With love,

Lucifer

P. S. Maze insisted on watching you sleep. Not me.

You looked around and found Maze behind the bar. You jumped, she was always so quiet.

“Maze?”, you asked.

She frowned at you while she pushed away from the bar but when she approached she pulled you into a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Lucifer’s been miserable without you.”

You laughed as you pulled away, “Sorry about that. But I’m not back.”

“But I thought...?”she said with confusion on her face.

“I mean... we just hung out last night. Nothing’s official.”

“Hmmph.” She smirked. “But from what Lucifer told me, you’ll be back.”

You shook your head in happy exasperation.

“Oh Maze. I could always count on you to say the things Lucifer was always too afraid to.”

Maze smiled proudly at that,

“Like how he wanted to marry you?”

You practically choked.

“I’m sorry, what??”

She shrugged, but had her signature smirk.

“Yeah...” she said with fake nonchalance, swirling her drink.

“He had a ring for over a month. But kept backing out because he was ‘unsure you would want to marry the Devil’.”

She added with air quotes at the end.

“And even though I’m dedicated to Lucifer for the rest of eternity, I totally take your side on this one. Dumbass said he didn’t need to talk to you about marriage and already knew how you felt. Saying you didn’t like weddings or something because you were always so sour after shooting them. And I told him, well maybe you were sour because you wanted to stop working them and have your own. But you know how Lucifer is.”

She rolled her eyes and took a quick swig of her drink.

“Once he gets a self-deprecating thought in his head, he can’t get it out. Ugh, daddy issues, am I right?”

You laughed, oh how you missed Maze.

— — —

“So are we doing this?”, you whispered into his chest as he held you tight that night.

He moved his head so he could smile softly down at you.

“Yes, I do believe so.”

You smiled back at up him.

“One condition.”

At his raised eyebrow you smirked.

“You have to ask me out again. You’re not getting off so easily, Luci.”

“Getting off, you say?” With a chuckle. But then he got more serious.

“But I’m afraid I can’t do that darling. Well, rather, I don’t particularly want to.”

Your heart dropped and face fell.

“What?”

“I don’t want to ask you out again.”

“But —“

Lucifer pulled away from you and reached into the pocket inside his suit jacket.

“Darling. I don’t want to simply be boyfriend and girlfriend again. I want you...”

He dropped to his knee, maintaining eye contact with you.

“I want you to be my wife, Y/N.”

You gasped, frozen in place.

“Darling, the moment I met you was the best of my life. And I’m so sorry for not asking sooner, but please. I’m asking now. Will you marry me?”

You stared at Lucifer on his knee before you, holding up a velvet box with an otherworldly beautiful ring inside. Your vision began to blur, and you hastily wiped the tears away.

Seeing him clear before you, nervous, in love, and vulnerable, you couldn’t help but laugh. You brought your hands to his face and gave him a searing kiss that spoke volumes, full of apologies, love, and dedication.

As you pulled back, lips lingering, and pressed your forehead against his, you opened your eyes to stare into his.

“Yes”, you whispered, nodding and smiling. Starting to tear up again.

Lucifer’s face lit up with joy.

“Yes?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, your smile matching his.

You both looked down as Lucifer took the ring from the box and slipped it on your finger.

You admired its intricacy and perfection for a moment before looking up at your now fiancé.

“I...” you began, trying to quell the tears.

“I... thank you, Luci.”

He laughed at that, unable to stop smiling.

“Darling, I’m the one who should be thanking you. You’re the light of my life.”

You smirked, unable to help yourself. “That’s rich coming from you, Morningstar.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. Trying to hide his smile.

“Back to the puns are we?”

You laughed and automatically responded, “You love me!”

You paused. Partially at the old phrase and at his serious face. Lucifer stroked your cheek.

“I do, my dear. I never stopped and never will.”

[liberolove]

Testing the Waters (pt. 2)

Summary: youve finally graduated high school and now youre moving on to college. youve decided to go to sendai university. its summer and youve become curious about checking out the dating pool in miyagi, so you download a dating app. you figure you might as well have fun before delving too deep into your studies

Part: [part two] out of ???

Pairings: nishinoya x reader / kuroo x reader / oikawa x reader / kiyoko x reader

A/N: theres tons of ships here, just me living out my hoe phase lmao please dont judge me. let me know what yall think

Genre: fluff, smut, crack

Warnings: flirting, college shinanigans

It’s been three days since the last time you saw Yuu. Gosh, even saying his name to yourself gave you goosebumps. You two have been texting non stop and honestly, it felt so refreshing. You were a pretty bad texter but he knew how to keep the conversation going. 

One of his favorite things to do was play 21 questions with you. He wasn’t like those fuckboys who would use this opportunity to ask you if you were a virgin or what your favorite position was. Yuu was different. He came up with the craziest scenarios and judged you on the way you answered. One time he asked you how you would escape a 300 lb lion that just broke out of the zoo you were visiting. You honestly had no idea how to respond but eventually you replied, 

“I’d make sure to run with a crowd and ‘accidentally’ trip a slow runner so that the lion could get distracted and probably (most likely) attack them. This would buy me some time to get the hell out there.”

This response caught Noya off guard but he loved the way you thought. You continued to come up with barbaric schemes to survive all the scenarios he would throw at you. He kept you guessing and that was what you liked so much about him. He was wild and so were you.

You were getting a little impatient over your next date so you took a deep breath and eventually asked him.

Y/N: Heeey, Yuu. I was wondering when you’d like to go out again. I’d really like to go out with you again.

Nishinoya Yuu: hey cutie! I’ve been wanting to see you again but I haven’t had any days off from work lately.. (; ･`д･´) IM DYING!! I just wanna see yoouuuuu

Y: Aw man.. :( That sucks. When do you think you’ll get your next day off?

N: idk tbh but hopefully it’s soon!!

Y: no worries, just let me know.

N: will do!!

Well, that was that. Now you wondered what you should do to pass the time. You were bored again and needed something to do. “Oh wait. I should check the app. I haven’t checked since I messaged Yuu on there. Maybe I have more matches.”

You opened up the app and you had 10 notifications. You had gotten some likes on the selfie you posted and several people viewed your profile. You checked who looked at your profile, and it was mostly ugly, older, men. “Gross,” you thought to yourself. Besides this, you noticed some new messages. 

You opened up the first message. 

“Hey sexy! Wanna come see me play? Click my link https://…..”

“Damn bots. So annoying.” You deleted the message. Next message:

“DTF?”

“I mean like yeah, but you could’ve been less forward in your message. What a turn off..” You had one last notification left. Maybe it wouldn’t be a let down.

“Are you made of Fluorine, Iodine, and Neon? 'Cause you are F-I-Ne.”

To be honest, this pick up line did make you giggle a little. You checked out the profile of the mysterious stranger who sent it and you were surprised that it was a bulked up biker. And damn, was he hot as hell. 

His hair stood up in an organized, weird bed head kind of way. It made him look like a rooster. Rather than smile in his photos, he smirked. And his eyes looked like he could undress you solely with his gaze. He looked like your typical bad boy, but that didn’t make sense. Why would he use a chemistry pick up line?

This made you become even more interested, so you replied back with another cheesy pick up line.

Y/N: I wish I were adenine because then I could get paired with U.

Kuroo Tetsuro: Hey, kitten. I thought you’d never reply. You had me waiting.

Y: umm??? calling me kitten already?

K: What’s wrong? Are you flustered already? We haven’t even met up yet.

Y: woah there cowboy! hold your horses

K: I’m not a cowboy, but I’ll gladly have you ride me instead.

Y: skskskks i cant even-

K: Sorry. Too much?

Y: YES TOO MUCH

K: Alright. Let me start over. Ahh, a fellow chemist, I presume?

Y: yeaaah, kind of. I have a love/hate relationship with chemistry.

K: Is that so? Maybe I can help with that.

Y: oh really? how so?

K: I am a chemistry major after all. I go to Sendai. Do you go to school?

Y: uhhh i’m going to start there in the fall. I still haven’t decided what to major in, just yet.

K: Maybe you’ll end up being a chemistry major like me and I can give you private one on one lessons? 

Y: I highly doubt that, but nice try. 

K: Have you gotten a tour of the campus yet? Or are you waiting for freshman orientation?

Y: nah, I haven’t seen all of it yet. 

K: Would you like to?

Y: um sure! When are you free for my private tour? (:

K: How about tomorrow in the morning? Maybe around 9am? I can pick you up too if you’d like.

Y: Sounds good and no thanks. I’m not riding on that motorcycle! Looks scary :(

K: Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll drive safely and make sure nothing happens to you.

Y: there you go again.

K: Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. No, but really. I don’t mind picking you up. Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?

Y: nope

K: Then, let’s change that. Send me your address tomorrow morning. And get some rest.

Y: alrighty it’s a plan then!

K: No. It’s a date.

Y: sksksk omg

After that conversation, all you could think about was how the hell did you get into this mess? Motorcycles are dangerous, yet this rooster convinced you so easily to take a ride with him.. 

It was an understatement to say that you were nervous for tomorrow.

You set an alarm for 7 am the next day and went to bed.

Your alarm woke you up and you immediately remembered why you were awake so early. You rushed into the shower and once you were out, you spent 30 minutes deciding on what to wear. You opted for some black, ripped skinny jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. 

At 8am on the dot, your phone’s notification bell went off. It was Kuroo.

“What’s your address, baby?”

You sent him the details and continued getting ready. You put on some light makeup and brushed your hair. You checked the time, and it was already 8:55 am. Then, your phone went off again.

“I’m outside.”

Your heart almost beat out of your chest. You grabbed your purse and put on some chapstick. You know, just in case..

You locked up your apartment and walked down the stairs. You were greeted by the biggest shit eating grin on the sexiest man you’d ever seen. You never went for the bad boys but college is a time for experimenting. 

“Hey, Y/N. You ready to ride? I brought an extra helmet for you.”

“Hi, Kuroo. And yeah, I guess,” your voice shook as you replied. You were really nervous but you tried to hide it.

“Don’t worry, baby. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll keep you safe.”

His words made you melt and you had just met him. The way he cooed at you and looked your way made you blush. You felt your cheeks get hotter by the second.

“Alright. Hop on and hold on to my waist. Hold on tight or else you’re gonna fly away when I take off. Okay?”

“..okay..” you managed to mutter. You were shaking but you put on the helmet he gave you and lifted up your leg to sit on the metal machine. You slowly hugged Kuroo from behind and held on as tight as you could. Your head was smashed right up against his large, broad back.

“Ready?” he asked.

“..yeah,” you squeaked.

Before you finished saying this, he had taken off like the devil was chasing him. If this was his meaning of safe driving, you didn’t want to find out his meaning of reckless driving.

The ride to Sendai University only took about 5 minutes, when realistically it would take 20 minutes by bus. You arrived and Kuroo teased, “are you going to let go, kitty?”

You hadn’t realized you were still gripping onto him for dear life. You released him from your hold and your hands still tingled from the amount of force you applied to his shirt. “Sorry!”

“No worries. Hey, look! I brought you here alive. Aren’t you glad?” he cackled. 

His laugh sounded like a dying hyena but it did sound a little cute at the same time. “Yeah. Thank goodness. Your driving is insane, dude.”

He showed you all over campus, from the administrative buildings to the gymnasium, to the fields. Sendai was a pretty big campus, and it made you glad that you had a personal guide to show you all the different buildings. 

After your little tour was over, he asked, “wanna grab a bite to eat? I’ll be a gentleman and pay for you too.”

Of course, you couldn’t say no to food. Much less, FREE FOOD! You nodded and got ready to ride the devil’s machinery again.

He took you to a nearby sushi bar. “Order whatever you’d like, princess. Today, I want to spoil you rotten.”

You melted at his words and also at the variety of rolls on the menu. You didn’t ask him if he really meant that you could order anything. You just kind of went for it. You ordered everything from shrimp tempura, to octopus, to eel. Sushi was your favorite and being told that you could order everything was a dream come true.

“Damn, girl! I had no idea you had such a huge appetite!  I didn’t know you’d take me seriously on my offer. You’re gonna run my pockets dry.”

You blushed and looked away. “Sorry, Kuroo. I really couldn’t help myself. I love sushi so much.”

“I’m just teasing you, baby. You deserve to be treated like this everyday.”

You had no idea how to respond so you just kept stuffing your face with sushi.

After you finally had your fill, it was time to go home. It was getting late. Kuroo took you home and you were definitely more relaxed this time on the bike. 

“I hope you had a great time today, kitty. And I hope I met your standards.”

“Yes, I did! Thank you so much, Kuroo! This was honestly so much fun. Thanks for everything.”

“Of course. Nothing but the best for you. I just need one little favor from you, baby.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“Can I get a kiss from your soft lips? I know you want to. I saw the way you kept staring at me, today.”

“Oh.. uhh.. Y-yea-yeah. Sure, of course.. Yeah,” you stammered. 

You looked at him with soft, shy eyes and before you knew it, he leaned in quickly and kissed you on the lips. Your eyes were wide open in surprise but as he deepened the kiss, your eyes slowly shut.

The kiss felt like electricity coursing through your body. You didn’t know what it was, but this man definitely already had you wrapped around his long, slender finger. 

As soon as you realized his hold on you, he backed off, and left you wanting more. He was such a tease.

“I can’t just let you have everything today, kitten. I need you wanting more.”

You didn’t know what to respond so you looked down at the ground shyly. 

“I’ll message you later, y/n. Don’t make me wait too long, again.”

You waved and muttered, “Thank you, Kuroo.”

He revved up his bike and was gone in seconds.

You remained in a daze as you walked back up to your apartment. Once you got inside, you plopped down on your couch and released a long sigh. “Who knew that college was going to be so exciting..”

[link to kuroo pic i found]

[faline-cat444]

Super Giles:Chapter 3-A Neighbor

Chapter One

Chapter Two

I might have gotten mildly creative yet still hopefully retained a mostly accurate translation.It’s hitting harder than the fact I can admit I have read short stories from the perspectives of an unused condom and a romance between the railroad crossing signs on opposite sides of the tracks.

Already had a family member question the plot of this current “project” and when I told her the response was “And they actually published that?”She would later bring it up but mistakenly say gumball machine.

There’s also a scene I can be seen turned into a parody piece similar to the ones that already exist for that one scene from Totoro.If you’re like me you’ll know it when you read it.

Giles didn’t know what to think!Should he be mad because these idiots didn't get it?Or should he be proud because of his decoration?He was sure of one thing anyway,he was the first gas pump to be decorated by an army general!And that sure was something!

The day passed by as if nothing happened!

The sun was setting and dazzled Giles in an embarrassing way.But he never blinked once!

On the road there was more and more traffic.People had finished their work and were coming home quickly.A child made a friendly sign to Giles,while another a rude gesture.A man in a bright red sports car screeched his tires and asked Giles if he was hitchhiking. Most paid no attention whatsoever to the boy at most thinking it was a little odd he was standing there alone,straight as a candle and motionless at the edge of the roadway.Evening began and it started to rain lightly.Near Giles,a lamppost lit up.

Giles sighed deeply.

One of these large,brightly lit domes,as we often see in large gas stations.But then he thought about Self-Service again,he too was unprotected in the rain,and didn't care.

So he stood even straighter,his fingers stiffer,and he tried not to think about the rain.

Giles was trying so hard not to think of anything anymore that he got a awfully hungry.This was understandable,normally he should have been in his warm home in front of a steaming plate of potatoes with meat and vegetables.Yum-Yum,water came to his mouth.He was already envisioning his mother putting dessert on the table…His mother!She obviously must be getting herself bent out of shape.

“That rascal isn’t here!” he’d be sure to hear her react.“We're going to have to be tougher!What’s going on in that head of his?!Ten years old and still hanging outside when night falls!”

“I bet he’s still looking at that gas pump!”his father would mumble from behind his newspaper.”When he’s there he always loses track of time.”

Now that he thought of his parents,Giles wasn't so sure of himself anymore.Was it possible not to go home?And what was he actually doing here?Had it been such a good decision to want to become a gas pump?

Giles began to regret his decision.It was so tiring.Maybe he had been very stupid.What had he hoped to accomplish?He was soaked to the bone in this dripping rain.To make matters worse,he also had cramps in his right hand which he held up.The two fingers pressed together were tingling and it felt like the blood had completely drained from them.

Giles shivered and felt very small,a little sick and terribly alone.Tears rolled down his cheeks and got mixed in with the raindrops.

“Stop this!”

“Go back home!”

“Be reasonable for once.Just stay a little boy!”

“Tomorrow you have to go to school.”

“Don't play the fool!”

“Give it up!”

“Abandon this idea!”

“Withdraw!”

All these little voices were passing through his head.

“I am a gas pump!” said Giles stubbornly. “A beautiful and shiny gas pump!Very strong!And nothing and no one can make me change my mind!”

“Alright,alright—I hear you loud and clear.I am not deaf,”a man's voice said suddenly,deep and sullen,coming skyward.

Giles thought he was going to have a fear-induced heart attack!A voice from heaven!The teacher at school had often spoken of it..Of this old man with his long white beard who lives high in the sky and who knew and saw everything.

In a confused little voice,Giles asked “Are you…Are you…Uh…God?”

His only response came as a powerful laugh,soon turning into unstoppable bursts of laughter.

Scared, Giles buried his head in his shoulders. “For a little bit he’s going to come down from the clouds,” he thought.Expecting to be crushed by God at any moment.

The laughter had now turned into a kind of neighing.”You think…Hee hee….I am the Holy One,” his voice hiccupped.”Dear lord,my god!It’s been years since I’ve had laughed like that…!”

He was clearly in a good mood up there.

This calmed Giles somewhat.

“Well,neighbor,I’m happy to meet you.” The voice had become calm again.

Neighbor?Out of the corner of his eye,Giles looked around.Nobody in sight.Except the lamppost.

Cautiously,Giles slightly raised his head.Leaning towards him,some meters high,the lamppost swayed gently.

“It's nice,a little conversation between neighbors from time to time,”the lamp joked.

“So you can…Talk?” said Giles with astonishment. “A…A…Lamppost?”

“Yes,and what of it?For a gas pump,you also have your tongue hanging out,” the lamppost retorted.

Giles obviously had to prove him right.

“Yes,but deep down I haven’t been a gas pump for that long,” Giles explained.

Because he absolutely wanted to avoid making a bad impression.

“I know,I know,” the lamppost reassured him. “I saw you arrive earlier,while you were still a little boy.A little boy with a schoolbag,” he added thoughtfully.

Giles felt like centuries had passed since then.

“And are you alright?” the lamp asked with concern.

“Oh yes,I’m okay.” Giles replied with vigor,hoping the lamp missed his little round of crying before. “Just had a little trouble with the rain earlier.”

“Water is always a problem,” the lamp said seriously. “Because of the water,we rust terribly.It starts with a small stain but before you know it you're coated with it and you end up on a heap of junk.”

Giles was already turning his eye at this concept.

“You can't do anything about it?” he asked.

“Oh yes,fortunately!” the lamppost quickly replied. “A new coat of paint works miracles.It is the base layer that matters!”

“I have to remember that,” Giles thought.This lamppost could teach him a lot.He was impressed.He almost forgot he was a gas pump,he wanted to take a few steps and calmly think about all this.But he had to directly see that he could no longer move his feet.It’s as if they were sealed in a block of concrete.As if he had no more feet at all.

What did it mean?First he didn't want to leave and now he couldn't!He tilted his head and couldn't recognize what he was seeing;his stomach,legs,knees,feet…They were all gone!Vanished…!

From his chin downward a metallic coating began to form.Giles wanted to touch it,but he couldn't move his arms anymore.

“My feet…” he mumbled, “My…My legs!I…I…” The lamppost seemed to tilt its light a slightly forward,but maybe it was just the wind.

“It’s nothing serious,don’t worry!” he reassured Giles.“This Is normal,it always starts below.Not to mention it’s very nice-looking.I’d call it a success!And think about the paint!Rust should not be taken lightly…”

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Super Fighting Roll (2-3)

(Roll tracks down the last remaining Energy Element, but soon discovers that things are far from over.)

Roll spun around, buster armed, as the transport completed.  The only things that greeted her were another transporter unit and an endless expanse of dusty red plains.

“Mars?  I guess I should just be glad they didn’t go even farther out.  Dr. Light, can you read me?”

Static came in reply.  Giving a short hum, Roll set out, Rush on her heels, keeping her eyes open for any sign of movement.

“Never thought we’d get to see another planet up-close, huh boy?”

Rush barked.

“Hehe...though, a lot of things have taken an unexpected turn lately.”

She thought back to what Break Man had said. At first she had simply wanted to dismiss it as a misunderstanding—being weaponized had been her choice, and it was bizarre that he thought otherwise.  The more she thought on it, however, she became curious as to why he was so sure Dr. Light would do such a thing on his own.

The way he talked about Dr. Light…it almost made it sound like he knows him personally.  And now that I think about it, that would explain why Dr. Light wasn’t expecting Break Man to just talk things through.  But, if they do have some kind of history, why wouldn’t Dr. Light have said so?  No, more importantly…I’m positive Break Man is a Robot Master.  I was sure that Tempo, Rock, and I were the first, so when could he have met Dr. Light without us knowing?  Unless…

Glancing back, Roll suddenly realized that Rush had stopped following her.  She turned to look at the dog, standing a few paces away with ears perked up, and prepared to call him.  Before she could, he pounced on something.

“What’ve you got, boy?”

Rush pulled a small mechanical snake from the dirt. Roll tilted her head as she examined it, and then froze, spotting the dirt behind Rush shifting.  She fired a shot, blasting out another robot snake.

“What are these things?”

“Oh, you’re no fun…”

Whirling, Roll spotted a figure emerging from the surrounding dust cloud: a Robot Master with mostly green armor, his helmet styled to look like a large snake with its jaws around his head and tail hanging down his back.  Keeping her eyes peeled for more snakes, Roll said, “I just want the Energy Element.”

“So impatient.  May I at least introduce myself?”

“I’m going to guess ‘Snake Man’?”

The robot frowned.  “No fun at all...regardless.  If you are here, then I take it our comrades left on the moon have met their end?”

Roll didn’t answer.

“Ah, what a shame.  If you’re capable of defeating them, then the rest of us certainly don’t stand a chance.”  He began to walk back into the dust cloud.  “Yes, I think it’d be best to just hand the Element over.  Come, this way…”

Roll turned to Rush.  The dog looked up from gnawing on the snake he had caught, giving a low-pitched whine.

“Yeah, I’m not convinced either...but, we need that Element.”

The two of them proceeded with extreme caution, scanning the ground for signs of any more snakes while also keeping Snake Man’s silhouette in sight.  After a few minutes of walking, the dust began to thicken; wanting to keep the other robot in sight, Roll ran forward a few steps, and at that moment a pinpoint of light appeared.  Roll dove aside, the incoming laser beam grazing her shoulder.  Large metal spikes then began to rain down, so she stayed low, carefully crawling forward in search of her enemies.

I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

A gust of wind finally thinned the dust cloud. Roll found herself staring up at a small, two-story structure made of metal stained red by the planet’s dust, Snake Man standing in the doorway grinning at her.  “What ever is the matter, Roll?  The Element is right in here.  Come over and take it.”

He ducked aside to avoid a Hard Knuckle. From the upper floor, Needle Man fired a hail of spikes; Roll slid behind a boulder just in time, spotting another laser a second later.  “They’ve really got the advantage here...I’ll have to be smart about this.”

She peeked out and took aim at Needle Man. He ducked back inside immediately. A battalion of snakes were set in motion before she could switch targets, so she instead began clearing them out.  A figure appeared behind Snake Man then, shooting yet another laser, though it was aimed away from Roll for some reason.  She refocused on destroying the snakes.  The laser hit another rock, bouncing off of it at a new angle, and went straight for Roll, knocking her out of her hiding spot.

“Uh-oh!”

Needle Man was back.  Roll had no time to dodge, opting to blast the incoming spike out of the sky instead.  Several of the snakes were upon her now, biting into her armor all at once--leaping to her feet, she shook them off with Top Spin, ducked back behind cover, and prepared some new tactics.  She instructed Rush to shift the dirt on one side of the rock, hopefully making her enemies think she was about to emerge from there, and then darted in the opposite direction towards another adequately-sized boulder.  As she passed, she shot Snake Man with Spark Shock to prevent him from adding to the army of snakes.  Once safe, she unloaded a series of Magnet Missiles, the projectiles curving around her cover in search of proper targets.

“Admirable effort, Roll!” Snake Man called.  “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

Snakes began to crawl over the rock.  Roll leapt back and fired a Hard Knuckle, shattering the stone and disrupting the movement of the machines.  She tried to head back to her first hiding spot, but Needle Man was too quick: a barrage of spikes kept Roll in place, allowing the snakes to regroup and resume their march.  A bark caught Roll’s attention.  Rush, in his jet form, rocketed towards her; she grabbed the edge of the platform and was carried out of harm’s way, quickly pulling herself up to get better footing.

“Thanks, boy,” Roll said.

They turned hard to avoid a laser.  Circling around, Roll got a better idea of the landscape, seeing that the building was protected from the rear and sides by natural barriers.

“That still leaves one other way!”

After verifying that they were out of their enemies’ sight, Rush flew as low as he could without the roar of his jets giving them away, and Roll jumped onto the nearby rock wall.  She steadily climbed down and onto the roof of the building, then looked back to Rush and held up ten fingers.  Roll gripped the hatch on the roof, took a deep breath, and then ripped it off and jumped inside.  The inner walls looked identical to the outer walls, and the room was empty save for a few rusty crates and a very surprised Needle Man.

“Wha--where’d you come from?!” he shouted, hurrying to lift his cannon.

Roll threw a Shadow Blade before he could fire, knocking his arm aside.  She followed with a Spark Shock to stun Needle Man, and then blasted him into the wall with a Magnet Missile.  Snake Man leapt up to the window as quickly as he could, only to be met by a Hard Knuckle that sent him falling back to the ground.

“Gemini Man, get up here!” Needle Man shouted.

Roll ran at him, hoping to not give him enough space to use his cannon.  Suddenly, Needle Man bent forward, and the spikes atop his head extended out, stopping Roll short.  As she stumbled back, she saw one of the lasers from before shoot out of the stairwell: it ricocheted off the ceiling, floor, and walls, fencing her in. However, Needle Man did not attack.

“Jerk...at least get an idea of what you’re aiming at!”

Ten seconds had passed.  Rush came charging in through the opening in the roof, getting hit by the unexpected beam.  Roll stunned Needle Man again as she made sure he was alright.  Before she could follow up, snakes emerged from the stairwell and advanced towards her.

“Darn it!”  Needle Man stomped his foot and took aim with both cannons.  “Prepare to look like swiss cheese!”

He fired wildly, leaving no opening for Roll to counterattack.  The projectiles zipped past her, most of them burying themselves in the oncoming wall of snakes--they were easily pinned to the floor, and those in the rear were slowed by the need to crawl over their companions.  His assault only lessened when another Gemini Laser entered the room. Between the three incoming attacks, Roll was forced closer and closer to Needle Man, soon coming into range of his headbutt attack; as he moved to use it, Roll ducked and slid forward, colliding with Needle Man’s ankle and tripping him into the Gemini Laser.  The impact sent Needle Man rolling into the wall, where he sat dazed for a moment.

“Ugh...just great…”

Roll pointed her buster at him.  “Just give up.  I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Needle Man stared at her.  “...Huh.  You really aren’t what the boss prepared us for.”

“...What?”

“Here we were expecting a terrifyingly powerful Robot Master ready to kill at a moment’s notice.  You’re tough for sure, but it doesn’t really seem like your heart’s in it.”

Roll clenched her teeth.  “Of course not!  Why would I want to kill any of you?  I’m only fighting because you’re forcing me to!”  She turned to blast some of the snakes before immediately putting her eyes back on Needle Man.

“Heh heh...guess someone’ll have to let the boss know he’s wrong.  I would love to see that.”

“I already tried, but Break Man won’t talk to me.”

Needle Man shook his head.  “I don’t mean him.  I mean--”

Another Gemini Laser shot into the room, reflecting off the wall once before striking Needle Man directly in the chest.  In his weakened state, that was more than enough to pierce his armor, searing a hole clean through his internal components.  Roll jumped back in shock.  A few seconds later, a scowl clouded her face; she grabbed Needle Man just long enough to copy his weapon, and then shot spikes through the floor in a circle.  When she stomped on the center of the circle, the floor broke away, giving her a path to leap directly down to the lower level.

“Ah, there she is,” Snake Man said.  On either side of him stood Gemini Man and his duplicate, though which was which was anyone’s guess.  “You’re quite determined to swoop down on us from above, aren’t you? Are we so beneath you?”

Ignoring him, Roll stared at one of the Gemini Men. “Why would you do that to Needle Man?”

Both Gemini shrugged in response, one saying, “Who knows?”

Roll opened fire.  “Is it really so easy for you to kill someone?  What’s wrong with you?!”

Her foes scattered.  Roll tracked one of the Gemini while the other and Snake Man flanked her.  Rush dropped on top of Snake Man just as he prepared to attack, and the closer Gemini charged at Roll, prompting her to turn her assault his way.  The spikes passed right through the projection, and the real Gemini Man used the opportunity to set a Gemini Laser bouncing around the room.

“What a peculiar thing to say!” he remarked as Roll focused on tracking the laser.  “Of course it’s easy.  As if it could be difficult for a technical marvel such as myself!”

Rush scurried back out of the laser’s path. Bounding back, Snake Man began calling up his army; Roll turned her fire upon them, impaling the troops before they could advance more than a few inches, and managed to land a direct hit on Snake Man’s shoulder.  He cried out, clutching the wound as he slumped against the wall.  Switching her focus again, Roll ducked just beneath the Gemini Laser and equipped Magnet Missile, hoping the homing projectile would be able to track Gemini Man.  The laser shot down her first attempt before she could find out.

“I can’t believe anyone would program robots to be so cruel,” Roll said.

“Are you saying all we know is wrong?” Snake Man asked, baring his fangs in a pained smirk.  “It isn’t our fault we are who we were programmed to be.  There’s no need to act all high and mighty.”

Gemini Man and his doppelganger charged before Roll could respond.  She leapt back, the laser striking her in the side and knocking her flat.  Snake Man capitalized on the situation with a small squadron of snakes, with the tiny machines charging straight through one of the Gemini.  Switching to Shadow Blade, Roll attacked the other, stopping his charge, before tumbling out of the snakes’ way.  Rush pounced on the real Gemini Man to keep him pinned, while Roll dealt with the snakes and turned to their master.

Raising his arms, Snake Man said, “My, this is unfortunate…”

“Where’s the Energy Element?”

“Right over there.”  He gestured slowly to a crate in the corner.  “By all means, help yourself.”

Keeping her eyes on Snake Man and her buster ready, Roll made her way over to the indicated crate.  She grabbed the lid, paused, and lifted it, spotting the Element at the bottom on a bed of something she guessed was packing material.  The instant she reached for it, Snake Man darted in Rush’s direction.  Roll was ready: she shot him with the Needle Cannon, the spike piercing straight through his chest, and with a drawn out cry Snake Man fell to the floor, his sparking body soon growing still.  This still distracted Rush, however, and Gemini Man was able to set another laser loose into the room.

“Get back boy!” Roll shouted as she ran forward, sliding just under the beam’s path.

Rush complied, and Gemini Man sprang to his feet. He leapt back, shimmered, and then jumped to one side, his doppelganger jumping in the opposite direction.  Roll hit Snake Man’s body as she passed, armor turning green and white.  Three Search Snakes leapt from her buster, zipping along the ground too low for the Gemini Laser to intercept them, all converging upon the real Gemini Man and bringing him down as they sank their fangs into his ankle.  Roll launched a Magnet Missile to cancel out the Gemini Laser, and then glared at Gemini Man.

“You...you just got lucky!” Gemini Man said.  “If it weren’t for the others holding me back, there’s no way you could have outperformed me!”

Roll shook her head.  “What’s the point of this?  Why--”

She stopped short as Gemini Man raised his hand to fire a laser.  Quickly, she fired a Hard Knuckle in return; the beam reflected off the rocket-propelled fist back into Gemini Man, finishing him off before Roll’s attack even landed.  With a harsh sigh, Roll knelt and copied his data, and then transferred the Element to Rush’s storage compartment.

“Let’s hurry home, boy,” she said.  “I’m worried about Dr. Light and the others.”

Rush transformed into his jet mode and carried her in the direction of the transporter.  Roll tapped her fingers against her leg, thoughts lingering on what Needle Man had said.

There’s someone other than Break Man behind all this.  I just hope it’s not who I think it is...

***

Light typed away at his console, eyes repeatedly flicking to the comm window in the corner to see if the connection had reestablished.  Wily set a hand on his shoulder, saying, “Thomas, I can handle this if you need some time.  I’ll let you know right away when Roll comes back into range.”

“Thank you Albert,” Light said, “but I think it’s best I stay busy.”

“If you insist.  The Energy Element is installed, so we’re ready to test as soon as you are.”

“I’m finished here as well.  Running test in 3...2...1…”

Light hit one final key and held his breath. Behind him, Gamma roared to life, light shining from the eyes on its half-completed skull.  Wily grinned.  “Excellent! Let me take a look at those readings!”

Not far away, Rock applauded alongside the construction crew, though he slowed to a halt when he spotted Elec Man in the crowd. He hesitated, but then approached, asking, “Elec Man?  Are you okay?”

The other robot shuffled away slightly. “Fine.”

“Okay...it’s just, you’ve been really quiet since the other Energy Elements were stolen.  Are you worried?”

He shifted his shoulders.  “It’s nothing, Rock.”

“...I don’t want to butt in, but...if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk, I’d be happy to help.  I mean, I’m your big brother after all!  Technically.”

Elec Man finally turned to look at him, expression blank at first.  Rock saw him crack a small smile as he turned away again.  Giving a sigh, Elec Man quietly said, “I guess I’m worrying you, aren’t I?”  He paused. “I’d never quite realized how powerful my abilities were.  I had some idea, of course, but now I have a much deeper understanding.  After seeing just what I was capable of under Wily’s reprogramming...I suppose I’m afraid.  If I were to lose control, even briefly, I could end up destroying someone else, maybe beyond all repair this time.  When I destroyed that Robot Master’s projection, I thought I had done just that.  That’s why I’m still shaken.”

“Oh.  I see…”

Elec Man shook his head.  “There isn’t really anything to be done about it.  I’ll just have to be as careful as I can.”

Rock waited a moment.  “...Have you talked about this with Roll?”

“Roll?  No, why?”

“It isn’t exactly the same, but...well, I shouldn’t say too much.  But, she’s been struggling a little after having to fight all of you, so she might have some advice that could help you out.”

Elec Man looked up, considering this silently.

Back at his console, Light nodded at the data he was seeing, and prepared to shut Gamma back down.  Something caught his eye, stopping him, but before he could look into the matter, the sound of the lift descending reached his ears.  He turned, expecting to see LaLinde or Tempo coming to join them.  His heart stopped when he laid eyes on Break Man.

“...Blues…?”

Wily noticed him as well.  Throwing his hands up, he shouted, “Agh!  Break Man!  Oh no, this is terrible!”

The worker robots scattered in a panic.  As Break Man stepped off the lift, Guts Man came forward to meet him, saying, “Well well well!  Looks like you finally decided to stop hiding behind your minions and come face us head-on like a real robot!  Good--I was hoping I’d get the chance to deal with you personally!”

Break Man ignored him completely, gaze fixed solely upon Dr. Light.  Trembling, the scientist muttered, “Blues...it’s really you...you’re still alive…”

“Hey, tough guy!” Guts Man said.  “I’m talking to you.”

Break Man finally faced him.

“Yeah, y--”

Suddenly, Break Man’s armor changed color, becoming purple and white.  An instant later, he was behind Guts Man, slowly walking towards Gamma.

“Wh--hey!  Get back here!”

Guts Man lunged after Break Man, the other robot’s armor now turning green and white.  Four large leaves whipped around Break Man, deflecting Guts Man’s attack before flying out at him, slicing through the small gaps in his armor. Break Man then lifted his buster and activated its beam, knocking Guts Man flat on his back.

“Hold, villain!” Fire Man declared as he bounded forward.  “Whatever purpose brought you here, I will not allow you to succeed!”

Break Man’s armor turned white and gray.  He and Fire Man both attacked at the same time, Fire Man’s flaming shots soaring high while Break Man generated several bubbles which travelled along the ground.  Break Man pulled his shield around just in time, but Fire Man was taken by surprise, the water-based attack shocking him still.  Guts Man pushed himself to his feet, but now Break Man’s armor was brown and yellow--he generated a circular saw blade in each hand, and then hurled them straight into the chests of both his opponents, dropping them instantly.  After pausing to glare at Light once again, Break Man continued towards Gamma. Activating his laser, he swept it through the scaffolding, setting the gargantuan robot free with a thunderous rain of rubble.

“Is he trying to take Gamma?” Rock said.  “We have to stop him!”

Elec Man held him back, saying, “How exactly are you going to do that?  You’ll only get yourself killed!”

“But…”

Break Man took a few steps towards the two doctors. Wily cowered, but Light just kept staring at him, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“I thought you were lost forever,” Light said. “Blues...you’re still alive...I’m so glad…”

At this, Break Man froze.  Wily said, “Thomas, it’s Break Man!  He’s attacking!  What are we going to do?”

A smile came to Light’s face.  “Blues...I’m so happy you’re alright…”

Wily looked up at him.  With a sigh, he said, “Hrm...hardly the reaction I was hoping for.” Now perfectly calm, Wily came forward. “Nonetheless, excellent work, Break Man! Not that I expected anything less.”

Break Man nodded.  Rock said, “Wait...what?  Didn’t you say you were the one working for Break Man?”

“Neh heh heh, foolish little robot.  That was nothing but a genius ruse to gain Light’s trust!  I’m the true mastermind here!  Nehahahahaha!”

Finally emerging from his trance, Light furrowed his brow as he turned to face Wily.  “What?  Albert, is--”

He whirled in a fury.  “That’s Wily! You will refer to me with respect, Light--never again with familiarity!  It’s been agonizing playing along all this time!  I thought my skin would crawl right off my bones!”  Wily grunted, but then his mouth curled into a smirk.  “It was worth it, however.  Using your designs, your resources, your labor, I was able to construct this unstoppable war machine in record time!  My brilliant plan was a success!  And once I unleash Gamma upon the world, not even your precious little lab assistant will be able to stop me!  If she even survived her trip to Mars, that is!  Nehahahaha!”

“I’m just fine, Wily!”

He winced as Roll’s garbled voice sprang from Light’s terminal.  “Rrgh, of course.  I knew I should’ve sent the other batch…”

“Dr. Light, are you okay?” Roll asked.  “I made it back to the moon and I’m closing in on the transport coordinates!  I’ll be there in just a minute!”

“I think not!  I took the liberty of encrypting Light’s transporter program--it’ll take him quite a while to get things working again!”

“What’s wrong with you, Wily?!  We trusted you!”

Wily waved his hand, turning his back on the console.  “Bah, I don’t have to indulge this prattle!  All I need to know before I leave is whether or not you retrieved those Energy Elements for me, Roll.”

“There’s no way I’m turning them over to you!”

Wily’s smirk spread into a grin.  “Yes, I thought you might say that.  Break Man!”

Break Man was suddenly right in front of Rock. He grabbed the robot by the arm and yanked him in Wily’s direction, but then paused.  Turning his head, he saw Elec Man standing next to him, two electrified fingers pointed straight at him.

“...Let Rock go,” Elec Man said.  “I won’t ask again.”

Break Man let go.  Then he was behind Elec Man, stabbing a curved metal boomerang into his back.  Rock cried out as Elec Man dropped to his knees.  Fighting to stay online, Elec Man fired a bolt of electricity at his foe, only to have it blocked by another set of leaves.  Break Man’s armor then turned orange and white.  When he aimed his buster at Elec Man, it fired a projectile with a blinking orb on one end and a sharp point on the other, which buried itself in Elec Man’s back.  Break Man then kicked him aside, grabbed Rock once again, and dragged him over towards Wily.

“No...I won’t…!”  Elec Man struggled to lift his arm, preparing one more attack.  The item stuck to his back then detonated.

“Elec Man!” Rock shouted.  “No!  Let go of me, you…!”

“What’s happening?” Roll asked.  “What are you doing?”

“I was thinking a trade might appeal to your sense of fairness,” Wily said.  “You give me the Energy Elements, and I’ll return your brother Rock to you!”

“Roll, don’t worry about me!” Rock said.  Break Man clamped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

“Oh, you really should.  If I don’t get my hands on those Elements, I’ll reduce him to scrap metal!”

“Wily,” Roll said, “you--”

“Wily!”

The entire room went dead silent at Light’s sudden shout.  He leveled a stern gaze at Wily--the look that may not have been harsh in its own right, but out of place as it was on Light’s kind face, the jarring, eerie feeling it generated multiplied its weight exponentially.

“I won’t forgive you if you harm my children.”

“Ah, so that’s what it takes to get you mad,” Wily said.  “How interesting!  Don’t you think, Break Man?”

The red Robot Master said nothing, only tightening his grip on Rock.

“Blues,” Light said, “I--”

“Save it, Light!” Wily interrupted.  “You have my demands.  I’ll be waiting for my Elements!”

Wily pulled a small device from his pocket. At the press of a button, he, Break Man, Rock, and Gamma all disappeared into thin air.  Light’s fierce expression vanished as well, replaced by a look of absolute terror.

[chipper9906]

Bound To You - Chapter 5: Different Ways To Fall

<- - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 8,698

Overall Word Count: 34,834

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (5/?)

Chapter Preview: 

Getting back into the wheelchair from the Impala was about as fun as getting out of the wheelchair – but at least this time he didn’t end up face-first on the floor, so... Dean considered that an improvement.

Sam walked ahead of him, leading them out of the garage and to the main entrance, pushing the heavy door open and holding it there for Dean to roll through. The door closed behind them with its familiar clang of locks settling back into place, and Sam stepped up to Dean’s side before freezing in place, the two of them staring at the impossibly long looking metal stairs of the bunker.

“...Dammit.”

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

Dean Winchester glared at the wheelchair they wheeled in for him like it was his worst enemy.

‘Unless you plan to drag yourself everywhere you go Dean, you’re going to have to accept the wheelchair.’

Dean huffed at the sensible words Cas was speaking into his mind, crossing his arms in the hospital bed like a child throwing a tantrum.

‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it.’

‘And I wouldn’t expect you to. I’m only asking that you accept the fact that it’s a necessity for any sense of freedom in your life.’

‘Freedom? Trapped to a chair? How’s that freedom?’

‘Better than being bedbound, is it not?’

Castiel was one hundred percent right, but it’s not like Dean was going to admit that.

Doctor Sullivan stepped into the room, scribbling away at some forms atop a wooden clipboard in his hands. “Alright, Mr. Winchester… You are officially free from our confines.” He finished signing something on the paper, looking up to Dean with an encouraging smile. “I see you still haven’t given the wheelchair a try?”

“I’m a bit worried it’s gonna ruin my look, Doc. Not really my style.”

“I think the wheelchair is a better look than me and Doctor Sullivan carrying you out here by your feet,” Sam pushed himself out of the chair he was sat in, stepping over to where they placed the wheelchair and wheeling it closer to Dean’s bedside. “C’mon, Dean. Just give it a try.”

‘You said it yourself that you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know I did… Stop using my own words against me.’

‘If you’d really rather not do it, I could take over and get you into the chair. Doctor Sullivan would have to leave the room of course, or at least be distracted while I take over so he doesn’t see the flare of my grace in your eyes.’

‘Nah, it’s… As much as I don’t wanna do it, this is something I gotta do, you know?’

‘Of course, Dean. I understand.’

“So… how do I do this?” Dean directed his question towards Doctor Sullivan, glancing over the bed to the chair beside him. “Would be embarrassing if I fall on my ass trying to get out of bed…”

“You’re going to be relying on your arm strength, mostly,” Doctor Sullivan bent over the wheelchair, applying the brakes on the underside of the chair.

“Got plenty of that,” Dean’s comment elicited quite the snort from Sam, who respectfully hid his laughter behind his sleeve.

“I’ve applied the brakes for you, here-,” Doctor Sullivan pointed to the brakes he had just fiddled with. “You’ll have to disengage them before you move, otherwise – well – you won’t move.”

“Got it.”

“Now, with time, your arm strength is going to improve. Don’t feel disappointed if you can’t do much at once – it’s quite the shock to your arms when they’re used to shift your entire body weight constantly.” Doctor Sullivan said as he stepped to the end of the bed, placing his hands under Dean’s calves. “I’m going to help you turn yourself, okay? I need you to turn yourself, so you’re sat on the edge of the bed with your legs just hanging off the end.”

“Okay…” Dean got his arms behind him, pulling himself up. It was significantly easier with Doctor Sullivan holding his legs up, gently guiding him as he pulled himself inch by inch closer to the edge of the bed. He could already feel his biceps twinging in protest with every movement, chest heaving with the exertion of pulling his entire weight.

“That’s the first step done,” Doctor Sullivan declared once he was at the edge of the bed, gently lowering Dean’s legs down so they were just hanging over the edge. “Now, this is going to be easier to do since the bed is about the same height as your wheelchair. Hopefully, it’ll be the same at your home – otherwise you may need to rely on your brother or another carer to get you in and out of bed.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Dean already hated the prospect of being such a burden on his brother, especially for something as simple as getting into bed. “I guess I just pull myself into the chair…”

“Essentially, yes.” Doctor Sullivan agreed. “You just need to brace yourself with one arm on the handle, then pull your body over and lower yourself onto the wheelchair. Again, I must repeat how important it is to keep the brakes applied at this stage, otherwise you risk seriously injuring yourself.”

Dean followed the doctor’s instructions, reaching out with his right hand to grab hold of the armrest of the wheelchair. He used his other hand to push himself over to the chair, damn near sitting on the hand he was using the brace himself. It was more of a staggering fall into the seat than it was a graceful descent, but Dean could at least take some pride in the fact that he landed in the somewhat comfortable chair and not on the hard plastic floor of the hospital room.

“And that’s all there is to it!” Doctor Sullivan exclaimed joyfully. “Same kind of method for getting into the bed, and for chairs, things like that.”

Doctor Sullivan reached into his lab-coat pocket, pulling out a few colorful pamphlets and handing them over to Sam. “Any questions you might have, these should help to answer some of them. Plenty of advice in them too, such as exercises Dean can partake in to help strengthen his arm strength and core; things that’ll help make the transition easier.”

“Ah yes, pamphlets. The answers to all my problems,” Dean stuffed as much sarcasm into the words as he could, smiling mockingly up at the two of them.

‘Dean… he’s just trying to help.’

‘You know, you’re slowly turning into my conscience, Cas. Somehow, hearing it through your voice makes me feel more guilty than if it was my own damn voice.’

‘Good to know I’m of some use up here, then.’

“I have plenty of faith in you, Mr. Winchester. You’re going to adapt just fine to this new difficulty, I’m sure of it.”

“Hell yeah I will, Doc. I’ve just gotta mope about it enough to get special treatment from my brother.”

“Like you wouldn’t give me hell for treating you different,” Sam pointed out, folding up the pamphlets and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. “C’mon, we better get you home before Miracle starts missing you too much.”

‘Miracle?’

‘Yeah? Miracle, she’s- oh! You didn’t get to meet her… Oh boy, do you have a surprise waiting for you back home, Cas.”

Sam walked behind Dean’s wheelchair, leaning down to switch off the brakes before grabbing hold of the handles at the back of the chair.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean’s words brought Sam to a stop.

“Uh… taking you home?” Sam clarified.

“Sam… what are these?” Dean asked, holding his arms out by his side.

“…your arms?”

“Bingo. And you see what I just did with them?”

“You… moved them?”

“Exactly. I can still use my damn arms, Sammy. So get your paws off my chair, and let me wheel myself outta here.”

Sam sighed at his brother's annoying sense of pride, taking his hands off the handles and holding them out in front of him in surrender. Dean nodded his head at him, turning his head back around to face forward before placing his hands on the wheels, pushing them forward and sending the wheelchair traveling towards the open door. Sam and Doctor Sullivan stood there and watched as Dean immediately collided with the frame of the door, listening to him curse quietly to himself as he reversed back from the door, then succeeded to go through and out into the hallway the second time around.

“I should probably run after him before he mows down a nurse or something…” Sam sighed, plucking up Dean’s hospital bag from the ground and heading towards the door.

“Wait, Mr. Winchester-,” Doctor Sullivan caught Sam by his elbow, stopping Sam in his tracks. “I didn’t want to bring it up while Dean was still in the room, but… I wanted to give you this.” He passed over a small white card over to Sam, the words ‘Dr. Ward’ printed out in sleek black ink, along with a phone number.

“What is this?” Sam asked, glancing from the card in his hands to Doctor Sullivan.

“It’s the number for a specialist I know. He deals in newly paralyzed patients, more particularly… their mental health. I’m not saying you have to give him a call, but I wanted to give it to you so the option is there. Your brother is good at putting on a brave face, but it’s one I’ve seen many times before. Those that make it seem like everything’s alright are usually the ones that are suffering the most. I’m hoping you’ll never need to call that number, but… challenging times lie ahead for both you and your brother, and there’s nothing wrong with finding help.”

“Thanks, Doctor… I’ll, uh… I’ll see how Dean goes for a while, but… yeah, I’ll think about it.”

* * *

 Dean had already made it to the parking lot before Sam had even left the hospital room. That’s where Sam found him, frozen in place in his wheelchair in front of the Impala. Sam didn’t even need to look at his face to know he was staring at her longingly. This… was one of the moments Sam was dreading. The moment that Dean realized…

“I can’t even drive her anymore, Sammy… I’m never going to be sat behind her steering wheel again.”

“You never know,” Sam tried to stay optimistic for the sake of his brother. “There’s always a chance, right? Maybe we can find something to help fix your legs in our research, too.”

“I doubt that, Sam. Besides, that’s not where we should be focusing our efforts. Don’t go distracting yourself with stuff like that; We’ve gotta find a way to get Cas back – that’s the priority.”

‘Dean-,’

‘Nuh-uh, don’t you start with me either, Cas. You’re top priority, and that’s that. My legs can wait.’

“Dean, you know that’s what we’re going to be focusing on. I’m just saying that after we get Cas back and we have another pair of eyes with us… it’s something we can look into.”

“I know you’re trying to keep my hopes up, Sammy. But I don’t want that. Sure, if we find something, then… that’ll be fucking great. But chances are that’s not gonna happen, and I’d rather not have my hopes raised and crushed and like that. So… the sooner I accept that this is my life now, the better.”

Sam looked ready to argue with Dean some more about that, which Dean was absolutely not having. He wheeled away from the conversation, rolling himself over to the Impala’s passenger seat. “Now c’mon, unlock this damn door before I find my own way home.”

Sam shot his brother an incredulous look, but pulled Baby’s keys out of his pocket anyway. “Yeah, how you gonna do that? You going to wheel yourself all the way home?”

“Don’t test me, Sammy. You might just see me rolling down the I-70.”

‘I think he’d be more likely to see you as a red stain on the I-70’

‘Wow, Cas. That’s a dark thought.’

‘I’m just going with the most likely scenario to come from that.’

Sam had jogged over to the passenger side by the time Dean pulled himself out of his own thoughts, grabbing hold of Baby’s handle and pulling the door open for him. Dean waved his brother out of the way when he went to help, rolling himself closer to the Impala until he was lined up parallel with the seat.

“Dean, the brakes-,”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Dean grumbled in interruption. He attempted to lean down, reaching for the brake, but found his body simply wouldn’t allow him to go that far. Sam watched his brother struggle in silence before it became too much, stepping closer to Dean with an arm outstretched. Sam flicked the brakes into place before Dean could utter a single complaint, moving away quickly to avoid a likely swat from Dean.

“I could have done that…” Dean mumbled darkly.

‘No, you couldn’t, Dean. There’s only so far your back will allow you to bend. I can feel the pain you feel too, I know where your limits are. I’m sorry, but you couldn’t have done that by yourself.’

‘Way to bust my balls there, Cas… God, I really am turning into Bobby, aren’t I? Pretty sure Bobby didn’t bitch as much as I did, though.’

‘You’re not Bobby. You are your own man, and the way in which you react to such a traumatic change in your life does not make you any less of one.’

‘Yeah? Then why do I feel like a useless sack of crap…’

‘Because you are the one used to helping others, not being helped. It’s who you are. Always the one to put others before him.’

Dean stretched over to the Impala as far as his weakened back would let him, placing his palm down on her leather seats. With his other hand on his chair, he began pulling himself over, gritting his teeth in pain at the twinge in his back, his arms trembling with the effort. The gap between the chair and the Impala was too large, and Sam could see it happen before it even happened. Dean’s arm gave away the same time the chair tipped over, sending Dean sprawling into the asphalt with a pained grunt, getting the air knocked out of him upon impact.

Sam rushed forward to his brothers’ side in an instant, the fear of Dean’s wound reopening itself or potentially injuring his spine more than he already had springing into his mind.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed sharply, the single word echoing between the cars parked around them. He brought his fist down into the ground in his frustration, feeling the familiar sting of his knuckles splitting as they hit the hard ground of the parking lot. Sam knelt down by his side, one hand on the tipped over wheelchair and the other wrapped securely under Dean’s arm, ready to help him to his feet.

“Dean, please, just let me-,”

“Don’t!” Dean snapped at him, directing his frustration with himself at his brother. “I can do this! I’m not going to be some fucking weight dragging everyone down.”

“You’re not,” Sam insisted strongly, squeezing Dean’s arm tight. “Dean, you’re not. And I know you can do this, but that doesn’t mean you can’t accept my help.”

‘Dean… please.’ It was Cas’s pleading tone in his head, the pain he heard in that usually strong and resolved voice, a pain he knew Cas was feeling because of his pain… that’s what made the anger running through his veins start to simmer.

‘I know you want to prove you’re more than your injury. That you want to show everyone you’re stronger than it. But it’s not something you need to prove. We know you’re more than that. We know you’re stronger. Just the fact that you’re trying, and that you care more about solving my problems than even thinking about finding a way to heal yourself… There’s no one I admire more – and am proud to admire more – than you, Dean Winchester.’

Dean slowly uncurled his fingers out from his clenched fist, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. Sam had remained silent- perhaps sensing that Cas was talking to him – his grip around Dean’s arm loose but still there, still ready.

‘I’m broken, Cas.’

‘No, you’re not. Because you’re most than just your legs. You’re more than your ability to hunt. What makes you – “you” – is all up here with me. And accepting your brother's help, or anyone’s help for that matter, will not change that. You are not weak for accepting help. You are not “less of a man” for admitting you need help. Your brother is not offering help because he thinks you’re weak, but because it pains him to see you hurt yourself like this. He just wants to help, as I would in his position. It kills me to know I can’t help... But one day, you’ll be a master at this. It will become a part of your life as everything else is. But today? Today, you’re still injured, you’re still recovering. You’re new to this. So please… let Sam help you.’

“Alright…” Dean caved, lifting up his arm to rest on the Impala’s seat above him. “Alright, Sammy… help me up.”

Sam took his hand off the wheelchair, shuffling behind Dean and pulling him up to a sitting position. He slid his arms underneath Dean’s armpits, straining with Dean’s weight as he pushed them both up, slowly pulling Dean up the side of the Impala until Dean all but collapsed into the seat. Dean dropped his head back against the seats with a heavy sigh, already feeling his arms start to ache from overuse.

Dean let his eyes close shut, waiting for Sam to finish up folding his chair and shoving it into the backseats (Baby’s trunk was far too cluttered to fit that in) before climbing into the driver’s seat. Sam shoved the keys into the ignition, twisting them until the sound of Baby’s purring filled the air, immediately putting Dean at ease.

“You okay?” Sam asked, glancing over at his brother.

“Yeah… I’m good,” Dean answered, his eyes still closed. “Thanks, by the way… For helping me.”

“Yeah, of course… You know it doesn’t bother me, right? Anytime you need-,”

“I got it, Sammy,” Dean cut him off. “I appreciate it, I really do. I just… I wanna go home.”

Sam’s lips pulled into a sympathetic smile at the exhaustion he could hear in Dean’s voice, nodding at him even though Dean couldn’t see him with his eyes closed. He turned forward in his seat, switching the gear into ‘drive’ and releasing the handbrake, smoothly pulling Baby out of the hospital's parking lot and onto the road.

‘Hey, Cas?’

‘Yes, Dean?’

‘You are helping. I know you think you’re not, but… you are. More than I think you realize.’

* * *

 Getting back into the wheelchair from the Impala was about as fun as getting out of the wheelchair – but at least this time he didn’t end up face-first on the floor, so... Dean considered that an improvement.

Sam walked ahead of him, leading them out of the garage and to the main entrance, pushing the heavy door open and holding it there for Dean to roll through. The door closed behind them with its familiar clang of locks settling back into place, and Sam stepped up to Dean’s side before freezing in place, the two of them staring at the impossibly long looking metal stairs of the bunker.

“Dammit...”

Dean couldn’t help it. Something about the genuine annoyance in his brother’s voice at the sight of the stairs got to him, cracking up into deep pearls of laughter that echoed around the bunker, hunched over as far as his back would let him.

“Sorry, Dean... I didn’t think about it,” Sam apologized, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, I didn’t know what to do about that one.” Eileen’s voice filtered up from down below. Sam and Dean peered over the edge of the railing to see Eileen stood by the map table, craning her head up to see them. “I went out and bought some small ramps and set them up around the bunker on the smaller stairs, but... this one’s a bit too long to do that.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Sam asserted, looking from Dean to the stairs in front of them. “Maybe something like one of those-,”

“I swear to God Sammy, if you install a goddamn chair lift that eighty-year olds use, I will push you down these stairs.”

‘Considering you’re going to need your brother's help to get down the stairs, I wouldn’t suggest that.’

“Well… that might be the only option that works, Dean. Unless you have any better suggestions?”

“Whatever…” Dean grumbled under his breath, cautiously wheeling closer to the edge of the stairs. “So how we doing this? Gonna wrap me up in bubble-wrap and roll me down the stairs? Or just roll me down the stairs and hope for the best?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sam warned light-heartedly, glancing back to the stairs to see Eileen making her way up to them. “Our best bet is just carrying you down in the chair. Can you grab him by the handles of the chair, Eileen? Then I’ll grab him by the front and help steer you down.”

“That still sounds like rolling me down the stairs and hoping for the best.”

“Shut up and focus where you’re going,” Sam grunted, stepping around to the front of the chair. He took a single step back onto the first stair, leaning forward and grabbing hold of the handles near the bottom of Dean’s chair.

Eileen disappeared out of Dean’s sight, taking hold of the handles at the back of his chair. “I’m good. You ready?”

Sam nodded, keeping his eyes focused on where the chair was going. “Yep, Just take it slow, alright?”

And take it slow they did. Minutes ticked by as they crawled agonizing slowly down the stairs, inching the wheels down one by one. Even though Dean knew all Sam and Eileen were worried about was him falling out of the chair and hurting himself again, all he could worry about was losing control of the chair and taking the two of them down with him.

It was both relieving and frustrating when they finally made it down to the bottom of the stairs, the concrete floor under his feet never seeming quite as safe as in that moment. Sam and Eileen looked rather proud of themselves for getting him down there, and Dean knew he should be feeling that way, too. Except… he hated everything about all that just happened. The fact that he wouldn’t have been able to go down some goddamn stairs if it weren’t for two other people helping him. The fact that going down a flight of stairs -something that usually takes him five seconds at most - took around five minutes.

“Who woulda thought, eh Sammy?” Dean glanced up at his brother. “From demons, to angels, to scribes of Gods, and then to God himself… my next enemy is going to be stairs.”

“And you’ll kick their ass, too,” Eileen assured him with a pat of his shoulders.

“I think it’s more likely the stairs will kick my ass. Literally. When I fall down them.”

“You gonna keep making more jokes about you falling down the stairs, or you gonna go get that drink you wouldn’t shut up about the whole drive home?” Sam teased as he made his way down to the hallways leading to the rooms, brushing a hand across Eileen’s back in thanks as he went.

“You know the answers both, Sammy!” Dean called after him as Sam went, giving a dismissive wave of his hand before disappearing out of sight.

“Thanks, by the way,” Dean craned his head around to face Eileen. “For being here, helping out… I know things must be weird for you at the moment, what with the whole resurrection thing… again…”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Eileen leaned back against the map table, bracing her arms behind her as she spoke. “You, Sam, and Cas… you’re my family.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you’re just here for Sam,” Dean grinned at the flush that spread across Eileen’s face. “Seriously, though, you being here? It’s what Sam needs right now. He, uh… he was crushed when you left. He understood of course, but… kid was pining hard for you. Wasn’t the same, you know?”

“Do you ever stop worrying about Sam’s wellbeing?” Eileen asked with an inquisitive smile. “Most people who get injured like to soak up every ounce of sympathy from others… yet all you can think about is others.”

“You said it yourself; you guys are my family. I don’t consider my injury a ‘problem’. Not one high up the list, anyway.”

“Hmm… first on the list goes to Castiel, I’m guessing?”

“We like to take turns. I’ll have a problem, then Sam’ll have a problem… Then Cas… It’s just Cas’s turn to step up to the plate.”

‘Is that some kind of sports reference?’

‘Yep. Baseball.’

‘Oh, right – I think we watched a game at one point, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah, just the one. Jack wanted to know what it was all about - think he got kinda bored with it. Didn’t wanna say though coz he knew we were still watching it… Think the poor kid just wanted to boot up Netflix and keep on binging.’

“Maybe one day you’ll solve the last problem,” Eileen suggested. “Well, the last ‘loved one at risk of death or worse’ kind of problem.”

“With us? You do know who we are, right?”

“Good point,” Eileen's eyes shifted over to the entrance of the hallway, something Dean easily spotted.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to keep talking to me out of pity, right?” Dean brought her attention back. “I’m not stupid, I know you want to go chasing after my little brother. Don’t let me keep you. Besides, Sam was right – I really do want to go get that drink… been on nothing but water and IV fluids for the past few days…”

Eileen huffed out a laugh, shaking her head as she brought her arms in front of her and crossed them. “I can’t imagine that’s what the doctor ordered.”

“Hey, I know my body. A nice glass of ten-year-old malt is exactly what I ordered.” Dean retaliated with a beaming smile, turning his wheelchair around and heading towards the hallway.

“Hey, Dean!”

Eileen’s call brought Dean to a stop, turning the chair back around to face Eileen. “Yeah?”

Eileen looked to him for a moment, the pause in their conversation lingering before she spoke. “Are you okay?”

This was a question Dean’s been asked many times before; Usually when he’s had his ass handed to him by whatever freak they’re hunting that week. Or when he’s fighting something within himself. Or when someone he loves dies – which is too often in their line of work. And nearly every time that question is asked, he’ll plant the best smile on his face that he can muster and say the same line every time – ‘I’m fine.’

This time? This time, with Eileen looking at him like she can already smell the bullshit lie he’s about to say, and with Cas staying suspiciously quiet in his head – listening in more like – he decides…

He’s done with lying.

“No, I’m not,” His answer seems to take Eileen by surprise, her eyebrows shooting up as she does one big blink in shock. “And I’m not gonna say ‘but I will be’ or something cheesy along those lines, coz’ honestly? I got no friggen’ idea if I’ll ever be ‘fine’ with all this. I’m just… dealing with it hour by hour, day by day. Besides, I got more important things to worry about right now.”

The corner of Eileen’s lips lifted in a sympathetic smile, lifting up her hand at chest height, palm down and parallel with her body. “Let me guess; this is where your problem is, and this-,” Her hand lifted up to above her head. “-Is where Cas is?”

Dean clicked his mouth, shooting a finger gun at Eileen. “Top of the list.”

“You know, one day you and Cas are going to have to tell me the whole story. How Castiel went from an angel of the lord, to an acquaintance, then to your best friend.”

“Kind of a long story. Twelve years in the making, you know.”

“Sounds like an interesting one though. From the family of God to the Winchester family…”

“Heh… Nah, he’s more than that. Cas is…” Dean paused, searching for the right words. What was Cas to him? “He’s… huh… he’s a bit of everything. There’s been times where he’s been my enemy, times where he’s gone behind my back… then there’s times where he’s thrown away everything he knows, everything he believes in, to help us. Help me. Everything he’s done, everything he ever does… it was always because he was trying to do the right thing.”

“Sounds like two other guys I know.”

Dean chuckled, dropping his head down. “Yeah… maybe we rubbed off on the guy. I’m pretty sure corrupting an angel is some kind of sin…”

“Considering how Cas is one of the only good angels out there, I think ‘corrupting’ him was probably for the best,” Eileen said.

“Apparently our Cas is the only one we could ‘corrupt’. Said so by God himself. All the other Cas’s stayed in line, but not this one.”

“Do I detect some pride in your voice?”

“Hell yeah you do. You know, Cas is… before I met him, I didn’t think there would be anyone I would care about as much as Sammy. No one else I thought I’d be willing to die for. Then Cas waltzed right in that barn and changed everything.”

Eileen smiled warmly at him. “Yeah… that sounds like ‘more than family’ to me.”

“Exactly. And that’s why he’s top of the list.”

“And probably why you guys get into so much trouble all the time,” Eileen pushed herself off the map table, patting Dean’s shoulder as she passed by him. “I think I’m going to head to bed – and you should do the same after your nightcap.”

“Already planning to!” Dean said in passing, having to resist the urge to punch himself in the face when he remembered Eileen can’t actually hear him.

‘You know, I recall not too long again when Sam and Eileen were being held captive by Chuck that you did something similar. You-,’

‘Yeah I know, I answered her call and started talking. I’m a dumbass. That the point you were trying to make?’

‘Of course not, Dean. You were in a stressful situation and likely weren’t thinking clearly.’

‘Yeah? What’s new?’

Dean carefully maneuvered himself down the matte black ramp Eileen had set up, thankfully not too steep so he didn’t go zooming down at uncontrollable speeds. Even though that sounded kinda fun…

The plan was to head straight for the bottle of scotch he had stored in the kitchen cupboard, pour himself a glass and let the warming flavors soothe him to sleep.

Castiel decided he wanted to ruin those plans, however.

It was quite cruel on his part, in Dean’s opinion. Waiting quite literally to the last second, with the cap of the whiskey twisted off and seconds away from being poured into his favorite crystal tumbler when Cas interrupted him.

‘Dean, I have to remind you of the Doctor’s instructions. They said not to drink any alcohol for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours whilst the medication is still processing through your system.’

Dean groaned out loud at this, placing the bottle down hard on the kitchen island with a loud ‘thump’, very nearly spilling the precious amber liquid.  ‘C’mon, Cas… Just one drink isn’t going to hurt me.’

‘Perhaps not – but it’s best not to take the risk. If your body doesn’t react well, there’s nothing I can do to heal you.

Dean eyed the bottle in front of him for a while, letting Cas’s words settle in his mind. ‘Fine…’ Reluctantly, he scooped the cap back up and twisted it back into place. Dean placed the bottle and tumbler back in their usual resting places, staring mournfully at the closed door that contained them.

‘You owe me a drink, Cas.’

‘And… how am I supposed to do that?’

Dean smiled to himself in the quiet of the kitchen, wheeling himself back in the direction of his bedroom. ‘I think I have just the idea…’

* * *

The bar Castiel found himself stepping into was familiar. Usually, it’s quite difficult to name particular bars as they generally all have the same feel; grimy tables sticky with various alcoholic beverages, worn and damaged bar stools, pools of blood and other liquids that he’d rather not think about stained on the cheap vinyl flooring.

This bar was… nice. Homey feeling. Soft rock music floated around the room from the old jukebox tucked away in the corner of the bar, sat upon wooden paneled floors which were spotless, matching the overall wooden appearance of the building. Neon signs advertising the bar's drinks adorned the frosted glass windows which hid the world outside – though Castiel guessed there wasn’t even an outside anyway. The barstools were cushioned and comfortable looking, their red cushions somehow without a single scratch or split on them. And there, behind the beautifully carved wooden bar with a pleased smile on his face and a glass of whiskey in hand, was Dean.

“I’m almost impressed,’ Castiel stepped further into the room, making his way over to the bar. “Seems you’re starting to get some control over your dreams – forcing the location is a good start.”

“Almost impressed?” Dean lowered the tumbler from his mouth, looking almost offended. “I managed to conjure up a whole freaking bar. What’s not to be impressed about?”

“For one, you didn’t ‘make’ this bar. Michael did. It exists as a memory within your mind – which you were able to entice your mind into recreating for your dream. That’s the part that’s impressive.”

Dean took a seat on a stool he had dragged to his side of the bar, taking a seat and gesturing with drink in hand for Cas to take a seat of his own. “So why are you ‘almost’ impressed?”

“Well, If I were to guess, you’ve spent nearly a third of your life in bars,” Castiel pulled the barstool out, dropping himself down and leaning his arms on the miraculously non-sticky wooden top of the bar. “It’s almost cheating to assume your brain wouldn’t create dreams of bars without your intervention.”

“Okay, first of all? Screw you,” Dean downed the last drops of whiskey in his glass, turning around to pour himself another glass from a new selection of whiskeys adorning the wall behind him, missing the tender smile that hitched at Cas’s lips from his teasing. “And second of all, what you drinking?”

“Water’s fine for me.”

Dean turned back around, shooting Cas his most disgusted look. “Wow, Cas, uh, calm down? Don’t go too crazy.”

Cas rolled his eyes, leaning back from the bar. “I’ll have whatever you’re having then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Dean cheered, ducking down to grab another tumbler from under the bar, pouring a drink for both him and Cas. “Could always go the Crowley route, you know? Nice fruity cocktail with one of those little umbrellas in it.”

Dean slid the glass across the bar, which Castiel easily caught with his hand. “Considering I barely have any sense of taste, there’d probably be no point.”

“Seriously?” Dean sat back down on his stool, leaning back against the wall behind him. “I’ve seen you drinking before though? Why’d you bother if you can’t taste it?”

Castiel shrugged, spinning the glass absentmindedly on the table. “Do you drink alcohol just for the taste?”

“Point taken,” Dean raised his glass to Cas, the two of them sharing small smiles as they clink their glasses together. The two took simultaneous sips of their drink, and Dean noticed Cas’s brows raising in surprise, raising the glass up to his eyes and looking at the amber liquid inquisitively.

“Something up?” Dean asked, resting his glass on the bar. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison you.”

“I can taste this,” Castiel’s voice was alight with curiosity, raising the glass up the dimmed lights that hung above the bar.

“You can? How?”

“Not sure,” Castiel placed his glass back on the bar, done with his inspection. “I have two theories; The first being that, since we now share a body, your memories of the taste of alcohol are accessible to me. So, if I drink or eat in your mind, I will taste it, feel it and smell it in the way you remember eating it.”

“Huh. So, if you tried eating something I’ve never eaten before, you wouldn’t be able to taste it?” Dean asked, crossing his arms and leaning them on the bar.

“Possibly. Unless the reason is my second theory; that this is all a result of my diminished grace. The closer I am to being human, the more human abilities I will adopt – senses being one of them. This no longer tastes like ‘molecules’ anymore. I can feel the warmth as it slips down my throat. I can taste the hints of honey and cinnamon and… I believe that may be apple?”

“Alright, so either way – you can taste stuff now,” Dean raised his glass in the air. “That’s gotta be a bonus, right?”

“I suppose. I do miss the taste of a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich…”

“Well then, you better hope your ability in tasting isn’t based on my memories. Coz from my memory, grape jelly sucks.”

“You don’t like grape jelly and peanut butter sandwiches?” Castiel sounded as if the thought of such a thing was a crime.

“I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Dean clarified. “But I don’t like grape jelly.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t taste like grapes!” Dean slammed the glass down on the table, this time hard enough for the drink to slosh over the side and onto the bar. “It tastes like… the color purple.”

“The color purple has a taste?” Cas clicked his fingers, effortless cleaning up the spilled whiskey.

“Yep. Grape flavor stuff. The grape-flavored Gatorade? Not grape-flavored, it’s purple flavored. Grape candy? Nope, purple flavor again. It tastes like… sugar and processed crap. Can’t be good for you.”

“Says the guy on his second glass of whiskey – since I’ve been here.” Cas raised a good point. “How many did you drink before I entered your dream?”

“None of your business…” Dean finished off his sixth drink of the night, the narrowed eyed look Cas was sending his way only going to show that he wasn’t getting off the hook that easy. “Besides, what does it matter? It’s in my dreams, right? Doesn’t actually affect my real body?”

“I suppose that’s true,” Cas conceded, still sipping on his first drink of the night. “If you can have free reign of the drinks you have in your sleep, does that mean you’ll reduce the amount you drink when you’re awake?”

Dean’s head jolted back, a half-amused half confused look plastered on his face. “You don’t want me drinking anymore?”

“I know you stopping completely will never happen. But I’d like you to slow down, yes.”

“You gonna tell me why, or…?”

“It’s because… Dean, you’re getting older-,”

“You sure do know how to make a guy feel pretty, Cas.”

“I wasn’t finished,” The narrow-eyed look was back again. “In the times when you were injured on a hunt and you permitted me to heal you… I’d… I’d clear our your system, too. Remove any toxins, heal any damage to your liver, clear out the build-up in your arteries…”

For some strange reason, Cas actually looked guilty to be admitting this. He was practically hunched over himself, staring down intensely at the glass between his hands, ignoring Dean’s burning gaze on him.

“Oh… That was, uh… that was nice of you to do, Cas.”

This at least got Cas to break his intense staring match with his whiskey, risking a glance up to see Dean’s reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep boundaries, I just…”

“You wanted to help, I get it, Cas. It’s okay.”

Cas relaxed marginally at this, releasing the tension in his shoulders and taking another sip – albeit slightly larger than before- of his whiskey.

“So, how often did you do that?” Dean asked, shifting one foot to rest on the bottom of the bar stool, the other hanging off the edge of the stool. “I didn’t get hurt that often – and you didn’t always heal me for every little boo-boo I got.”

The panic was back. Dean could see the subtle changes in Cas; the brief widening and blank look in his eyes, face set in stone so Dean couldn’t read a single emotion on his face – which was actually what gave him away. This was Cas reverting back to his classic angel mode.

“I suppose I, um… there were occasions where I would try to be… close to you. Standing side by side at interviews, next to each other in the kitchen or at the map table… I would take the opportunity then; A touch of the hand, legs bumping under the table, my shoulder brushing against yours… Any time there was even the slightest of contact, I would send over some of my grace. Heal the minor damage inside that you usually can’t see – or don’t keep track of.”

Now that… that happened a lot. He had long since given up reminding Cas about personal space and just accepted that that was how Cas was. But now he thinks about it… did Cas ever stand that close to Sam? To Jack? To anyone else but him? No… no, he didn’t. It was just something that became the norm for them, it was how they were with each other, and now Dean was so used to it that he didn’t even bat an eye when he felt Cas’s arm against his, or when Cas scooted so close to Dean at the table that he as may as well have been sat in his damn lap. That was just… Cas.

Now, at least, there was reasoning behind it other than ‘just because.’ And it was a logical reason, a kind one even, for Cas to be doing that for him. Except… why did he feel disappointed with the reason? He should be feeling relieved about it, right? That Cas wasn’t invading his personal space for the hell of it?

“Oh…” Dean shuffled on the stool, dipping his eyes down to the bar. “So, uh… you were doing all that just to heal me?”

Dean could feel Cas’s eyes burning a hole through him now, forcing his gaze back up to meet Cas’s intense one. Intense, yet… almost sad.

“You know that’s not the only reason.”

Cas had uttered the words so soft, so quietly that Dean almost didn’t hear him. Like Cas intended for those words to be heard for him and him alone, even though there wasn’t another soul in sight. And yeah, maybe he did know the other reason. Maybe he’d been keeping it buried down, pretending that it had never happened. That Cas had never told him those things… Because even now, months after he had said them, after Cas had made them his final words to him, even with Cas back… he still doesn’t know what to do with them.

He hadn’t really tried, truth be told. After Cas had died, the pain of it was still too raw, and thinking about it only ripped the wound open further. He thought it’d be easier to lock the memory away, keep it out of sight and out of mind and find a way to... to move on. It seemed impossible – to keep Cas in his memory, yet simultaneously try to forget about him. Clearly, it hadn’t worked. He might as well have had Cas’s smiling, tear-streaked face etched into his eyelids.

Then, with Cas back… it was as if Cas was trying to forget about it, too. Which Dean can’t exactly blame him for. After all, the poor guy had probably assumed he would stay dead after making such a confession. Easier to pretend it never happened than confront it – at least, that was Dean’s personal motto. Plus, with all they have on their plates (again….), it was probably pushed to the back of both their minds.

Which is why none of this makes sense. There’s a part of him that wants to talk to Cas about it, but… he still hasn’t processed it all. Not really. He had no idea what to say to Cas in that very moment, the Empty and Billie breathing down their necks, about to lose his best friend in the worst time of his life. Now, in a relaxed and cozy bar with literally no-one else that can hear them, safe in his own mind… Dean still doesn’t know what to say to him.

But the liquid courage running through his veins sure knew what to do.

Dean downed the last of the drink for that little extra bit of drunk idiocy, turning the glass upside down and slamming it down on the bar with a grin. “C’mon, finish your drink,” Dean nodded his chin at the glass in Cas’s hand, the stool underneath him screeching across the floor as he stands.

“What for?” Cas asked, though brought the glass of whiskey up to his lips anyway, the last of the drink disappearing steadily.

Cas copied Dean’s prior movements, turning the glass upside down and placing it next to Dean’s glass. It was only once Cas looked up at the shy grin on Dean’s face, a single eyebrow raised up as he waited patiently that Dean moved. Cas turned on his stool to follow Dean as he stepped around the bar, coming to a stop in front of Cas and offering out his hand to him. Cas’s eyes flicked up from Dean’s outstretched hand to Dean’s face, still not getting what it was Dean was trying to do.

“Twelve years on this Earth, Cas. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance.”

“…Because I haven’t?” Cas eyed Dean’s hand suspiciously, hand twitching by his side as he resisted the urge to reach out and take it.

“Hmmm…” Dean hummed, inching his hand even closer to Cas. “How ‘bout we change that?”

Dean could see the moment it clicked in Cas’s head. His eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights, looking to Dean as if to try and figure out what weird and cruel joke Dean was trying to play on him. There was no joke. There was no ulterior motive. Hell, not even Dean himself knew why he wanted to do this. He only knew that he wanted to. It was kind of weird, it was all kinds of terrifying and definitely not what two guys do in their spare time, but hey – this is just a dream, right? People have weird dreams all the time. It’s not like his minds trying to tell him something or anything like that…

Castiel swallowed harshly, that partly terrified look still on his face that Dean remembers seeing the day he took him to that brothel. Except, this time, Cas was resting his hand in Dean’s, not some random chick that would be throwing stuff at Cas’s head less than a minute later. Cas’s hand was calloused like Dean’s, both of their skin marked by scars and roughened by years of wielding weapons. The warmth of Cas’s hand bled into his skin, his grip around Dean’s hand tight with nerves, thumb resting lightly over Dean’s pulse point. It was strange that, even in his dream, Dean’s heart was pounding hard in his chest like it would if this was really happening – which Cas definitely had to feel from his pulse in the unlikely event he couldn’t hear his heart going crazy.

Why was he so nervous about something as simple as dancing? Sure, he’s no master at the waltz, but it’s not like he’s at some fancy big-wig party trying to blend in with the rich folk. It was just him and Cas, after all.

Well… that was his answer, he supposed. It wasn’t just Cas. It was Cas.

“I… I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do,” Cas admitted as Dean led him to the center of the bar, the room spacious and perfect for just this occasion.

“I don’t know about dancing either,” Dean replied with a shrug of his shoulders, lifting up his other hand and placing it tentatively on Cas’s back. “We’ll figure it out as we go. It’ll come natural.”

It did come natural, as it turned out. Almost a little too natural. Cas’s hand rested between his shoulder blades like it was always meant to be there, placed directly over where Dean knows his wound exists in the real world. Cas’s grip had slackened somewhat, his nerves lessening as they swayed together.

From the outside, it was probably the most awkward-looking dance in existence. They didn’t sweep each other across the floor with the graceful movements of a professional. It was more of a… stumbling step and shuffle, a few winces occasionally shared between them as they inevitably stepped on each other's toes.

But… that made it all the better. Moments like that got them giggling quietly in the tranquil space between them, smiles plastered on their faces that would be hard to wipe off as they shambled around the room to the hushed chorus of ‘All My Love.’

Of course it was a Led Zeppelin song.

Of course.

“This is one of the songs you put on the tape you gave me,” Cas pointed out part way through the song, feeling coordinated enough now to dance and talk at the same time. Mostly…

“Another guilty pleasure,” Dean said with a sly smirk. “Dad was always embarrassed to admit he liked these kinds of tracks, too. Guess that passed on to me.”

“Well, I like it.”

Dean snorted. “Course you do. Would be foolish to label the tape “Top ten tracks” if they weren’t the greatest of the great, wouldn’t it?”

Cas broke his gaze away from Dean’s, looking instead to their joined hands held out in front of them, fumbling slightly in his steps as he does so. “Did you mean it?”

Dean frowned at him, racking his brain for what Cas could be referring to. “Did I mean what?”

“When you were talking to Eileen… You told her I was ‘more than family’. Did you… did you mean it?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t,” The answer came surprisingly easy to Dean. He should have fumbled over the words in his head, any logical part of his brain shut down as panic took over. That’s what should have happened, but it didn’t. “It’s hard to say what you are to me, Cas. Family is all I’ve ever really known, the only thing that was important to me. So putting you in there made sense, you know? And you still are there, but… dammit Cas, you’ve been my longest friend. It feels like… it feels like my mind wants to put you into another category. It just doesn’t know what that is.”

Dean had been expecting for Cas to look disheartened after that. He knows it’s not what Cas wants to hear, but… he can’t. He doesn’t know how, all he knows is that he wants his best friend back. He wants for everything to be fixed, for Cas to be shoved back into his body and then… they can go from there. Hell, maybe they will fix his legs. And then maybe Dean will be stupid and keep hunting despite the clear wake-up call, and Cas will tag along even though he’s pissed at him for carrying on because he’ll always feel the need to watch over him.

He wants things back to the way they were. And Dean knows that’s what he wants.

He knows what he wants.

He’s sure of it…

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