#it was interesting though seeing how angry set got seeing the injuries

[mila-bee]

When he’s protective 🥰

[jewels-writes]

Surviving the Crash (Captain Price x injured! reader)

Fandom: Call of Duty Word count: 3,001 Warnings: Blood, injury, cursing, near death experiences, very poorly proofread Background information: Your callsign is Crow. Part 2 Part 3 — — — —

You’d found yourself in Price’s office for the third time this week, a result of your bad behavior. You heard him sigh, shuffling through the multiple reports he’d taken out of a manilla folder. As he read them, he’d occasionally look up at you and your bruised face. You knew better than to speak first. It was not something you did, especially not while he was reading. Sighing, he set the papers down on his desk before giving you his undivided attention.

“This is the third report I’ve gotten this week, Crow.” His words weren’t angry, not even disappointed. Just.. tired. He was tired of dealing with adults who acted like children, and as far as he was concerned, you were just another one. “Let me guess; you want to explain this one too?” he asked, adjusting his position so he leaned on one of his chair’s arm rests, his head resting on his chin. “Go on then. Give me your sob story.”

Your jaw clenched as you heard him insult your situation. You hadn’t intended to get into a fight. In fact, you hadn’t even thrown a punch; your words were enough to send the other recruit climbing over the cafeteria table at you. If someone hadn’t pulled him off of you, you were sure you’d be in a bag right now, with a letter being sent to your parents with the date for your funeral service. The way he’d grabbed your neck, there was no way he wasn’t trying to kill you.

“You read the reports, sir. You tell me what happened.” You were half curious about what the recruit said. Had he lied? Probably. Were they going to believe him? Probably. As the words left your mouth, you heard Price chuckle a few times. He wasn’t interested in scolding you; no, that wasn’t his style. 

“Tell me what bloody happened.” His words were a bit colder this time. “Explain to me why this report said you hit first when that boy doesn’t have a single mark on him, yet you were moments from a ticket to the medical wing. Tell the truth, rookie.” It almost sounded like he was concerned about you. It was in the way his eyes narrowed as he spoke, as if scanning your expression for any involuntary changes in reaction to his words. He leaned forward for effect, his head tilting to the side, waiting for your input. 

In your time here, you’d learned that this captain wasn’t like the others you’d encountered. He genuinely cared for justice and didn’t much care for people who wanted to kiss his ass. Either you told him how it was or he wanted nothing to do with you. 

“I provoked him.” You muttered, fully intending to take the entire blame for the beating. You recalled your exact words, though; you didn’t think it was appropriate to recite them, not to Price. Instead, you opted to summarize. “Something to the effect of how his parents should get a refund for the money they paid for his training.” 

You watched how Price chuckled again at your words, and you couldn’t help but feel confused. What about this situation was remotely funny? You moved your eyes down to his name plate on his desk, avoiding eye contact when he eventually leveled his gaze back at you. 

“And you didn’t fight back? Why’s that?” He inquired, intrigued by your answer. You were an enigma to him, always doing something unexpected. “Or were you restrained?” His voice dipped an octave lower in a way that made your heart flutter. You could hear the danger and power in his tone. In your hesitation to respond, he got his answer.

He sat back in his chair, tucking the papers back into the manilla folder before handing them to you. You hesitated before taking the folder from him, clearly confused. “Sir-?”

“Shred those on the way to medical.” He muttered, reaching for his pack of cigars in his top left desk drawer. “I’ll see to it that this issue is wiped from your record and that recruit is sent home.” As you stood there, unsure if he was serious, he continued. “I’ll have you transfer to my team. It seems you can’t coexist with everyone else; why not run with the big boys, yeah?” There was clear authority in his tone, leaving no room for your own opinion. But then again, you didn’t really mind the change of pace. “You’re dismissed.”

— — — —

By the end of the day, you had your things packed from your old bunker and were hauling your bag over to the other side of the base to stay with Price and his group. When you got there, you were greeted by blank, unamused stares. 

“And who the hell’re you?” The man with the skull mask asked, his British accent heavy as he walked over, his frame towering over you. “Can’t you fuckin’ read, eh? Sign says, Taskforce 141, fuckin’ muppet.”

“Easy, Ghost.” Price emerged from behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder. “They’re our new transfer.” You watched as Ghost looked between you and Price before muttering curses under his breath and taking a step back, retreating to his bunk. As you gathered yourself again, Price moved to your front, offering you a onesided smile. “That’s Ghost, a bit of a grumpy one. Don’t expect an apology from him. You’ll never get one. Follow me; I’ll show you your bed.” He made a motion with his arm before walking deeper into the tent. 

Your bed was above his. You were going to be sleeping above your captain. He muttered a quiet apology as he cleared the top bunk from some of his things, shoving them under his bed awkwardly. 

“Go on, settle in.” He offered a smile, placing a hand on the ladder, assuring you it would stay in place.

You didn’t get much sleep that night. Not because of your injuries from being someone’s punching bag, but rather because of how fast things had changed. Mere hours before, you were sitting in Price’s office, certain you were going to be dishonorably discharged, and now you shared a bunk with him.

— — — —

In the morning, you woke to a friendly banter between your teammates. There was some Scottish man who had been throwing articles of clothing at Ghost, giggling when a shirt stayed on Ghost’s head even as he tried to yank it off.

“MacTavish, you’re on thin ice.” The Brit grumbled through the cloth of the shirt. With a final tug, it came off. In a swift movement, he balled the shirt up before launching it at the other man, chuckling lightly to himself when it hit him square in the chest.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you continued to watch, a small smile growing on the edges of your lips. You heard a smothered laughter coming from below you and peaking down. You saw Price sitting up, his elbows propped on his knees, as he too watched the two men mess around. He didn’t mind letting them get a little rowdy; he knew moments like this were essential for their morale. 

Stepping down the ladder, you offered a soft ‘hello’ to Price, who simply nodded back at you, his attention on his teammates. Just as you were about to start your morning routine, Price stopped you.

“Let’s introduce you to everyone, yeah?” He offered, standing up from his bed and stretching slightly, rocking back and forth on his feet as he did so. Leaning down to your level, he put an arm around your shoulder as he pointed to everyone in the tent, naming them and calling out to them so they’d wave. “Everyone, this is our newest member, Crow. Treat them like you would treat me, or they get your provisions for a week.” He warned them. It wasn’t necessary; he knew he ran with good men, but after reading your reports, he knew the safety net would put your mind at ease.

— — — —

As you rushed over to the meeting room, your hair still wet from your shower and your uniform hastily thrown on, you were met with annoyed looks from nearly everyone sitting around the table. A woman, you recognized as Laswell, stood by a large TV, clearing her throat before motioning for you to sit. Doing so, you sat between Price and Gaz, muttering a soft apology to your captain who nudged your shoulder. You gave him a small smile in return, grateful that he wasn’t upset. 

As the meeting went on, you were briefed about an upcoming mission. You didn’t expect to be assigned as Laswell went over the mission, but your eyes widened when you heard your callsign among the names of the 141. Price noticed how your head snapped up, confusion clear in your features and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

“You’re ready.” He mouthed with a knowing smile. The way his hand squeezed your shoulder slightly before retracting it and placing it back in his lap made your stomach flip. 

After the meeting, you stood around with your team, your hands nervously fiddling with a strap on your vest. Millions of thoughts raced through your head. Were you ready? What if Price was wrong? What if you were a liability? What if-

Price’s hand clapped you on the back, jolting you out of your frantic mind. Seeing him, you instincutally straightened up, a sign of respect. 

“At ease, Crow.” He murmured, though your shoulders stayed taught with tension. He stepped in front of you to make eye contact. “You’ll do fine. I selected you myself. Your delinquency reports weren’t the only ones I read about you.” He chucked. “You’re a valuable asset, one my team needs. Try not to stress too much.” 

“Are you sure?” Was all you could manage to say. You couldn’t fathom why he’d had such a change of heart about you. 

“More than sure, love.” His voice held a note of parental authority that you couldn’t quite understand. “You’ve got a few hours before we deploy. Get something to eat, fuel up.”

— — — —

“..come in! Crow, what’s your status? God dammit..!” Your radio jolted you back to the present as you blinked your eyes open. Immediately you felt the pain from the explosion that had caused you to go unconscious in the first place. Of-fucking-course the helicopter transporting you and your team had to get shot down by an RPG. You didn’t even want to know how far you fell.

The world around you was littered in debris and fire. Forcing yourself to sit up, you grunted with the effort, trying to scoot away from the wreckage. You could see the pilot’s burning body in the cockpit and your stomach churned. He was gone. 

“Crow, come in!” Price’s voice harped through the radio again, a hint of desperation in his tone. Groaning, you reached over to turn on your communications line. Taking a swift breath, you responded.

“Crow to Price, I hear you.” You strained, taking a few breaths before you spoke again. “I’m by the crash site. Pilot’s down. Everything bloody hurts.” You reported in, trying to hide the pain from your voice.

“You broken?” Price asked. You could hear him running in the background of his radio, seemingly toward you. “Christ, I see you. Stay where you are.”

In moments, you heard his footfalls getting louder as he approached your location. He knelt down beside you, his blue eyes assessing your condition. You hadn’t had the time to look for yourself, but you could tell something on your thigh made him freeze. You could see how he hesitated, how he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. 

Hearing more footsteps, you saw the rest of 141 jog over. They surrounded you, their eyes looking down at you like you were a lost cause. 

“Fuckin’ hell..” Ghost’s low voice cut through the air. Taking a step back, he angled his head down to his radio, muttering. “We need medevac, helo’s down.” Your stomach dropped when you heard him, knowing he purposely tried to be quiet about it so you wouldn’t hear. Not quiet enough.

“The hell you mean? I’m fine-” Looking down at your body, your words caught in your throat. A piece of the helicopter’s propeller was lodged deep into your right thigh. “Oh fuck.” Your voice came out as a shaky whisper, your panic rising. 

“Don’t look- dammit, Crow. Relax. Don’t move.” Price urged, waving Soap and Gaz over. “Keep them still.” He ordered to them as they kneeled around you, their hands free and ready. Redirecting his attention to you he asked, “How much can you feel?”

You took a moment to respond, the hesitation from the dread in realizing your entire right leg seemed to not register in your mind. Worst case scenarios rushed through your head. Looking down at your body again, you felt your pulse roaring in your ears. In the split second before Soap pressed your shoulders back to the ground, you could see the propeller plate had cut through bone, something you’d overlooked before. You saw the way it had almost entirely ripped your leg off, how the blood spurted out of the gap it created.

“Oh my god.. Oh my fucking god..” Your breathing was erratic and Price muttered a curse under his breath.

“Hey, none of that. You need to slow your breathing.” His tone was more urgent this time, one of his gloved hands reaching up to your cheek, holding your head in place. “Look at me. Shh, look. You’re going to be okay. It looks worse than it is.” He lied through his teeth. He didn’t like doing it, but he knew calming you held priority. 

“No.. no, no..” Your sobs came out like desperate pleas. “I don’t wanna die. Oh my god..” Price’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked over to Gaz, signaling for him to search the wreckage for any usable medical supplies. As he left, Price looked back down to your thigh, wincing as he looked at it again.

“You’re not gonna die, you’re gonna be fine. Just.. dammit, stay with me, Crow.” Price’s hold on your face stiffenened as he saw your eyes unfocus and your expression beginning to relax. “No, no. Stay with me, dammit.” He tapped your face with his fingers, keeping you present. “You stay awake, you hear me? Fight through it, love.” He’d hoped with the fact that the plate was still in your leg that it would stem the bloodflow, but apparently he was wrong. 

Gaz jogged back, a slightly burnt medical bag in his arms. He hurridly set it next to Price, opening it for him, sifting through it’s contents. Their dread grew when there was nothing that could soothe your pain. Nothing that could fix you. Gaz’s actions became more tense, his hands roughly digging through the bag, pushing the useless supplies around. 

“Ghost, what’s the eta on that damn medevac?” Price barked at his teammate, needing some form of good news. Despite his desperate tone, his hand held firm on your cheek, providing a steady sense of his presence. 

“They’re on their way. Five minutes out.” Ghost replied, his mask giving nothing away from his expression. Price’s heart dropped. Five minutes was too long.

“Crow?” Soap spoke in the pause, his voice nervous. At the mention of your callsign, Price’s eyes darted back down at you. Your eyes were closed, and your expression was relaxed. If he didn’t know any better, he could have thought you were asleep.

“No, no! Wake up!” Price shook you, his hands on both of your shoulders. Your body didn’t respond, not as he shook you, not as he called your name, nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His voice broke in his desperation. At the same time Gaz reached for your wrist, placing his fingers to it, praying he’d feel a pulse. 

“They’re alive.” Gaz breathed. Your pulse was weak, but there. “Not for long, we need that chopper here. Now. Keep trying to wake them.” He urged, taking out a roll of bandages from the bag. 

It was then that they heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. On edge, Ghost’s hands tightened around his gun, aiming it at the sky. His radio buzzed in, confirming they were friendlies.

The next few minutes were controlled chaos, with the medical team coordinatingly lifting you onto a gurney before rushing back to the helicopter. Price and his team followed right behind them, giving them the space they needed to work on you. Before the doors could even close, Price was ordering that they take off, shouting at the pilot.

Returning to your side as they took off, he rested his hand on your forehead, turning your head toward him.

“Pull through, dammit..”

— — — —

The hours dragged on. You’d been visited by doctor after doctor, each time, checking on your vitals. The beeping of your heart on the monitor seemed to mock Price as he sat beside your bed, his hand resting over yours. The surgery was done hours ago, and yet you hadn’t woken up yet. 

He’d watched as they reconnected your leg, tying the tendons, muscles, and skin back together. You wouldn’t be able to walk for a week, at least while your body healed, but it was better than amputation, right?

“How are they?” Gaz asked as he stepped into your quiet hospital room, worried like hell for you. Sure, you two had just met yesterday, but he still cared about you. He’d have to have zero empathy to not. 

“Still out. Haven’t woken up yet.” Price sighed, lines of worry mixed with his own exhaustion. “Vitals are steady; it’s only a matter of time.” 

The guilt ate at Price. If he hadn’t recruited you to his team, if he hadn’t recommended you for the mission, this entire thing wouldn’t have happened. With his other hand, he rubbed his tired eyes, feeling like he’d let you down.  Maybe he did. — — — — Note: I will not be continuing this unless requested. I hate hospital scenes/tropes. You're lucky I didn't kill Crow outright.

[spnhunter4life]

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another. 

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards. 

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often. 

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since. 

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found. 

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered. 

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked. 

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise. 

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening. 

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala. 

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream. 

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done. 

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said. 

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence? 

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man. 

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer. 

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in. 

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated. 

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected. 

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested. 

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later. 

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first. 

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again. 

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?” 

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently. 

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?” 

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated. 

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. 

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times. 

“Like?” 

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly. 

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?���

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.” 

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly. 

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.” 

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head. 

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder? 

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to. 

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?” 

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.” 

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion. 

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him. 

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me. 

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face. 

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

[luffyvace]

I have a question that’s been stuck in my head for a while? OK, so remember the episode of MHA where Kurogiri warps stain to the bar to meet Shigaraki so they can convince him to join the LOV and then stain stabs Shigaraki?

So imagine, what if Spinner, Dabi and Toga (separately) meet Stain BUT…… stain injures Reader (instead of Shigaraki) how would they feel if the hero killer hurt, they are beloved S/O?think about it??

Ohh yeaaa I remember that episode!

Ooooo yeah that’ll definitely set the mood for some killing dear- 😃 very intriguing question/request! Thank you! <3 :)

(gn reader since you didn’t mention pronouns or gender)

Spinner

⚠️(i think) spoilers at the end of spinner’s I can’t remember if it’s animated or not 😵‍💫💫

The Gif is literally Spinner to stain-

literally nobody liked him before he joined the lov

as we saw in the flash back (I think it’s animated) he was a nobody sitting on his couch watching tv

he joined the lov and now has people that respect him, he started dating you?!

quite frankly the best thing that has ever happened in his life.

no joke this man would do anything for you

He will probably never see what you see in him because of people in his ear from his upbringing but he hopes you continue to see that forever cuzzzz he’s not tryna let you go anytime soon 😋💗

so when you got stabbed by stain? This man was the exact opposite of calm.

What do you mean you just stabbed the only person who loves him?!

this is actually such an interesting request because spinner admires stain!

this dude’s villain costume is a target version of his! (😭)

Yeah he definitely no longer looks up to him. 😐

infact he might find himself hating him 😗

that’s how serious it is!

he panics for a second then pulls out his katanas to defend you in case he comes back for more

he would chase him down, if you weren’t wounded

he instead sheathes his blades and asks toga to wrap you up (until he can get you to the hospital if it’s fatal)

he’s on the verge of tears and is shaking because he could’ve lost you!

there’s no way he could ever let that happen!

Is heavily disappointed in himself that he couldn’t react faster to protect you and ‘realizes’ how much of a weakling he is

vows to protect you even if it costs him his life

of course he was always willing to, but now nothing. and I mean nothing. is ever gonna hurt you again

will track down stain to talk to him and tell him that wasn’t cool (and he doesn’t necessarily curse him out but rest assured he didn’t use the words I did)

⚠️(uh spoilers I think) after he gains the army of mutation quirk citizens he feels much more confident in his abilities to protect you

you should too! His army cares about you nearly as much as he does! They view him as they’re leader and savior after all~

not to mention he for sure changes his villain costume to something else

He asks you to help decide the design and now he looks much more epicc 😎💪

Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

Dabi is instantly heated abt it

like y’all invited him in here and he STABS his you??!

his lover?!

I don’t think so..😐

bro not finna let that slide🗿

he’s aboutta incinerate everyone and himself (again 😂-) trying to kill him

in all seriousness in a situation where someone he cares about gets hurt he does beat whoever hurt you before helping-

just because he’s angry

BROS SEEING RED- 😭🗿🤡

he does come check up on you after though

Besides he knows the lov will bandage you up

either Toga will do it (but she’ll take some of your blood) or they’ll take you to that hideous doctor dude that works for afo

If it’s a fatal wound he checks up on you a lot and subtly asks if you need anything

he’s not some softy, imma be honest, but he obviously does care

no matter what, he now wants to track down stain and reduce him to nothing but ashes

it doesn’t matter who says what. he’ll never forgive him.

and trust me when I say he’s the type of guy who could hold a grudge forever 😬

will tell you to sit out the next mission if your injury isn’t all the way healed by then

he commits arson to try and ease his anger a bit but after all he’s been through, hurting the only person he loves is the final straw.

he’s noticeable more irritated for a while and will try and kill stain on sight

the hero killer has been spotted in the prefecture? He bouta pull up. Bro is over in the mountains? That crazy cuz Dabi is too 🤷‍♀️

Toga Himiko

Would be the angriest if Dabi wasn’t more hot headed (get it? Don’t get mad I had to) and if she didn’t like stain too- 😭

the fact that she loves to see you stabbed also comes into play-

But she’s upset she wasn’t the one to make you bleed

although this is all after she bandages you up

if the wound isn’t fatal she’ll probably unwrap you daily to admire you in all your glory 💉🩸😊

She tries to get payback by stabbing stain so it’s even but it just becomes a game of cat and mouse

meaning they’re both too swift and agile to get hit by the other

In the heat of the moment her first reaction is excitement that quickly turns to anger

as i said she’s happy to see your beautiful rose red blood but she didn’t get to inflict it ✋😤

Def woulda followed stain out the door to track him down if it weren’t for 1. Your wound and 2. Twice & magne stopping her

will lick the blood she cleaned

not fresh off the wound, but off the materials she used to clean you up

she knows it could give you an infection directly

and this is of course after your fine and dandy

she 100% tried to get as much blood into a container or syringe as possible

even if there isn’t a lot

If you have a quirk in particular

bonus if it’s a strong one

You two could pair up now!! Aren’t you happy? 🤗

if you are NOT happy and is upset with her for it, (I’m sure your not- your probably used to it in a relationship with her) she’ll gives you cuddles as an apology <33

[spandexinspace]

Some random fluff that got out of hand.

_____________________________

It takes Querl a few blind, fumbling moments to realise he’s awake. Another few to realise that he’s awake because the bed next to him moved, shifting in a way that feels entirely too strange and foreign, that sets his entire being on edge until his REM-laced brain has time to catch up with his nerves. 

"Where are you going?" Querl mutters, though he suspects his sleep laden voice makes it come out more as a string of sounds than a comprehensible sentence.

"Oh, you're awake! I didn't wake you, did I?" Lyle’s hushed voice sounds considerably more lucid than he feels, so he feels justified—perhaps even vindicated—in only making a noise in response. "I'm just going out into the lounge, I usually try to stretch out in the morning, so I’m going to go do that."

Querl makes another affirmative noise, blinking heavy eyes against the dim light as his still slowly awakening brain processes this information. Somewhere far away the door to his—their?---bedroom slides open and then closed again, once more leaving him alone in his bed. Except for the first time he's not splayed out in the middle of it like a multi armed invertebrate, but pushed to one side, pushed to the side by a rapidly cooling indent and mess of blankets on the beds other side.

It's not the first time he's woken up to Lyle. There'd been nights before, even one dangerously early morning, but those had all been Lyle leaving, trying to silently pull on his clothes and slip out the door before anyone came asking for either of them. At times he'd thought it thrilling, like something out of those old, inane holopics some of their teammates adored so much, but the thrill never lasted long enough to make up for the hollowness his departure left behind. To Querl's surprised, as if the last few months hadn't been full of surprises already, it hurt so much more to see him go than to not have him there.

They'd been fine like that. Everyone didn’t need to know what they'd started sharing, he told himself. Told Lyle, those times he’d implied anything else. Except over time, as they stole away more and more moments together, it became harder to stop himself from reaching out, from saying and touching and doing all those things they had far too little time to do. He started to crave those times away from the others more than he'd done even those first few years, when remaining alone had seemed like the most pertinent goal in his life. Solitude still became him, but the duality, the fire beneath his skin and beating of his heart, became nearly as desirable.

Lyle always seemed so unbothered around the others, floating through life as if he wasn't weighed down by life-changing secrecy. And perhaps the truth was that he, who had done this very thing so expertly before, wasn't. Except one time, after one mission that had started without farewell and ended with grave injury, he'd pulled Querl so close and whispered muffled gibberish into the crook of his neck. He might have shaken, it was so hard to tell what was him and what was Querl. It only lasted another couple of days after that, the secrecy falling away like cracked glass from a window frame. No one needed to know, but perhaps they had to.

The initial teasing and exclamations of foreknowledge were not nearly as hard to bear as the angry, mocking pantomimes in his head, nor as long-lasting. As it turned out, what was life upturning to him was of very little interest to anyone else. Almost anyone else. It all meant so little at the end of the day, paled in comparison to the exhilarating touch of Lyle’s hand in his own. The way kissing him, still a little fumbling, trying to learn how to do it right, filled him with emotions he’d yet to learn how to articulate.

This, however, this is even newer. Lyle, for all his experience, must have been thinking about it for some time, but the thought had regrettably not even crossed his own mind until Ayla brought it up. She had of course been characteristically uncouth in her approach, and mocked him, but despite her manners he had to begrudgingly admit she was correct in her assessment. Though his room had become littered with Lyle's things over the last few months it was not in any official capacity his space. Not until now.

Querl stretches his arms over his head and rolls his shoulder, letting the too early morning roll over him like a tidal wave. Then he slips out of bed, not letting the cold floor deter him too much as he makes his way out of the room and into the lounge area. It's not a large space, he'd accepted its existence mostly because he hadn't been around to object to it as the habitable planetoid was being  constructed, but he'd kept it spartan. A small food replicator next to an even smaller kitchen setup, a pristine grey couch pushed up against a wall. And now, Lyle, in the middle of the floor space, contorted into an odd, forward leaning pose on top of a bright blue stretch of some kind of foam-like material. He unfolds himself as Querl enters the space, revealing that he's dressed in tight, black pants—possibly his uniform pants—and not much else. A thin layer of sweat gives his exposed upper body a strange sheen in the pleasantly dimmed lounge light.

"I didn't think you were that awake," he says, smiling despite a slight strain in his voice. "I'll be done in ten minutes or so."

Querl nods mutely, trying and miserably failing to not stare. Then, because he's not sure what else to do to preserve at least a shred of his dignity, he walks over to the food replicator and keys in the code for tea. It's not good, and the food replicators seem intent on overheating the water in a way Val claims ruins the ‘true integrity of the leaves’, but out of the two socially acceptable Terran hot beverages it's the least repugnant one. He then turns back towards Lyle, like a compass to a magnetic pole, and leans back against the counter. Lyle glances at him and rolls his eyes, but there’s a quirk to his lips and a glint in his eyes.

Querl watches in silence as Lyle stretches and contorts in front of him, a display so flagrant it’s hard to imagine it’s not in some way a perfomance. There's a pattern and deliberateness to it, every pose and movement seeming too deliberate to not be based on practice, though Querl feels he must admit it's not a pattern he knows how to recognise. Nevertheless, it's an amazing display of Lyle's body, his brain thinks before a more reasonable part of him has time to stop that thought from rising to the surface. Which means he must further concede that that is true and that he remains at least partially as weakly flesh-minded as he always feared he would be. In front of him Lyle shifts once more, wiry muscles moving in steady, perfectly controlled movements. Perhaps he must simply learn to live with this weakness, he thinks, as he lets his eyes travel along the lines of Lyle’s wonderful body. 

Eventually the routine seems to come to an end, and in a movement Querl doesn't entirely feel like he makes himself, he pushes off the counter and crosses the room to where Lyle stands, panting slightly. His tea threatens to spill over the rim of his mug.

Lyle sweeps the back of his hand over his face, leaving his already messy bangs in an even worse condition. "Hi," he says, lips red. Something churns in Querl's stomach.

"Do you do this every morning?" his mouth feels painfully dry.

"Pretty much. I skip it sometimes if I'm away or sick or something, but I always end up feeling just a little worse when I don't so I try not to.”.

"That would be logical." Querl swallows and tries with all his might to hold back any further comments. There are so many comments.

"So, any specific reason you've been standing around like you're watching a train derail?"

"I've never observed a train derailment."

"Totally what I meant, Brainy. You know what I actually mean." 

"It was nice. You're nice. Physically." Lyle snorts.

"Only physically? I really thought we had something going on." 

"Yes, you should know that you're a real nass to deal with in every other respect." 

"Ouch. Do you stare at me like an animal in a zoo, then? A pretty display piece for only the greatest of connoisseurs, to be seen and not heard?” Taking a step forward, Lyle closes the gap between them. He grabs Querl’s jaw and tilts it down, closing in the slight difference between their eyes. “Hm?” His hum sends a jolt of electricity up Querl’s spine and he makes another noise, one perhaps best described as undignified.

“You’re unbearable, Norg.” As unsteady as his voice his free hand fumbles, eventually settling on Lyle’s hip, right on the edge between bare skin and thin uniform, thumbing at the edge. “Unbearable, and remarkably attractive.” Under his thumb Lyle shudders.

“I aim to please.” He pulls Querl forward, kissing him softly with his warm, salt-tinged lips. 

"We do have a, ah, meeting in half an hour. You do know that," Querl says, because someone has to. And he must believe he's not ready to face that particular embarrassment. 

"I don't think that'll be an issue.”

[tigreblvnc]

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP — @m1ckeyb3rry

Your match IS...

— Chigiri Hyoma

✦ …………………………………..

✦ …….. I rewrote the whole matchup……

✦ …… because I realized halfway through that my first choice wasn’t the right one at all :D

✦ YAY.

✦ I think this is the first time I’ve ever done a complete rewind like this.

✦ It doesn’t bother me because I prefer being accurate in my choices, but wow, I didn’t expect it, lol.

✦ SO.

✦ Back to square one.

✦ I’ll explain at the end of the post why I changed direction, but essentially the only other choice that came to mind while reading your description was the red panther. It perfectly fits all the traits you love and hate in people. Honestly, my choice could be summed up in just those few paragraphs since your lines scream “princess” more than any other character…

✦ In this case, you two share a lot in common, which leaves no room for any other potential match. I can only see Chigiri by your side :) Believe me, he’s a great partner, both from what we see in the manga and what I interpret about his character off-screen.

✦ Let’s start with the common points!

✦ "I’m quite smart but I don’t really try to be?? Like I mostly play on my phone or watch shows/read in my classes but I have perfect grades anyways." Without calling Chigiri lazy (far from it), he easily succeeds at what he sets his mind to. When it comes to sports, he's a smart guy with a sharp, critical, and curious mind that quickly grasps things and learns easily. We know that from an early age, he made a breakthrough and gained popularity because no one could rival his talent. Nature also blessed him physically, but we’ll get back to that later, Monica Bellucci.

✦ "I’d say I’m also pretty quick-witted and good at thinking on my feet BUT I’m kind of judgmental." Yes. Chigiri.

✦ "I was the one in high school who knew ALL of the tea because people would just tell me their secrets unprompted." Well, it’s not quite the same for Chigiri, and this is where things get interesting: for him, it’s the opposite. Since he’s so talented, many have high expectations of him, and he has high expectations of himself too. His knee injury was a taboo subject at the beginning of the manga until Isagi brought it up and got Chigiri to open up – though I like to think it was Isagi’s therapist-like aura that encouraged Chigiri to confess everything.

✦ This is where you complement each other well. Highly talented and productive people often hide their failures and vulnerabilities, and when they do confide, it’s a real sign of trust.

✦ For this reason, I think one of Chigiri’s love languages is quality time.

✦ Another reason this match makes sense: you two naturally balance each other with your respective temperaments. But there are also striking similarities, like your general popularity. People gravitate towards you both, seeking your presence.

✦ And honestly, it was when I reached the “likes/dislikes” section that I completely reevaluated my choice for your matchup because everything you mentioned just screams Chigiri. That’s what ultimately pushed my original choice aside and made me rewrite everything!

✦ "People who are passionate about things, people who are very kind/gentle, they NEED to have a sense of humor though so definitely someone very comfortable being sassy or sarcastic, people who are on the calmer/quiet side because that balances me and my high-maintenance self out, people who don’t get angry very easily." I’m quoting this because it almost directly describes Chigiri. To me, he’s a boy who started off very confident and arrogant, but his knee injury taught him humility and introspection. This balance brings a lot of nuance to your relationship. He knows how to switch between being highly competitive and cocky on the field, yet he becomes very calm and kind off the field. Chigiri is the type to dish out sarcastic remarks without getting upset by them.

✦ There’s a little note about him that says, "He thinks his strong point is that he's proactive when it comes to things he likes or wants to do." Sure, most of the Blue Lock characters are passionate about what they do, but the fact that Chigiri is the only one with this specific note in his canon profile shows how central this trait is for him.

✦ "Traits I dislike in others: people who explain things I already know because nothing makes me crash out like a mansplainer, people who are overly pushy, people who are way too nonchalant and don’t pay attention to me, people who are overly blunt to the point that it becomes mean, people who look down on me or are condescending, people with no social awareness." Similarly, Chigiri strikes me as one of the most balanced characters in the Blue Lock roster, and I see him as someone who would be respectful in everyday life. In fact, I think this applies to most of the manga’s characters, but once they’re off the field and not in high-pressure situations, they’re just regular humans like us. Well, most of them.

✦ "Hobbies: Horseback riding (I do dressage, which is kind of like horse ballet)." Why do I feel like this is a sport Chigiri would absolutely enjoy? Maybe it’s because dressage requires technique, precision, and elegance—qualities that define Chigiri well.

✦ "Writing." If I remember correctly, Chigiri enjoys reading. Short stories, specifically. While I see him sticking to his preferred genres, your love for writing would definitely pique his interest. Writing is a pretty personal activity, and not everyone is comfortable talking about it, let alone sharing their work. Since Chigiri is receptive to art in many forms, he’d be intrigued and would want to know more about your writing style, your characters. You can learn a lot about a football player’s mindset from their gameplay; similarly, a writer’s work reveals much about their inner world.

✦ "Making tea." I’m picking up on all the tiny details because everything aligns so perfectly with Chigiri, and I’m still wondering why he didn’t come to mind during my first attempt. Also, I remember reading that you love autumn, which creates a fun link with Chigiri: "His favorite season is winter because he enjoys drinking tea and eating sweets while sitting under a kotatsu."

✦ "Doing makeup/hair/skincare." Chigiri again :) Along with Aryu and Kaiser, Chigiri is one of the characters whose appearance is meticulously maintained. He genuinely cares about looking good.

✦ "Taking pictures (both of myself to post online and also just of scenery/animals/flowers/pretty things)." Except for Nagi, Shidou and Sae (surprisingly), we don’t know much about most Blue Lock characters’ online lives, but I can easily picture Chigiri scrolling through Instagram, checking out fashion, beauty, and wellness accounts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a Pinterest board for home decor, hairstyles, and inspiration.

✦ "I like being told that someone loves me and I also like being looked at." Funny you say that because there’s a line about Chigiri: "He likes when he is praised for his talent or admired for how fast he can run." You two were definitely the queen bees of high school, huh?

✦ "In terms of giving, I think it’s gift giving because I love finding little things that remind me of someone." Spot on. I think Chigiri would love receiving gifts, especially books, clothes, or stylish items. He strikes me as someone whose house is the most well-decorated out of the whole friend group, and everyone loves visiting.

✦ When it comes to public displays of affection, I see Chigiri as someone who’s more reserved. He might be with his partner in public, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts—he keeps it private.

✦ So… YES. I said I’d get back to appearances, and now is the time.

✦ … Monica Bellucci is one of the most beautiful women of her time, and nothing and no one can convince me otherwise. The fact that she speaks more than six languages (including Italian, English, French, Portuguese, Spanish, and Persian) makes me absolutely crazy. And honestly, if people compare you to her, it means you’re turning heads just like Chigiri :) So yes, the couple goals are present, and that’s why I rewrote this entire matchup to highlight it on my blog.

✦ Cancer and Capricorn have one of the best compatibilities in the zodiac, thank you and goodnight.

✦ And just because the analyst in me can’t help but dissect every brain: the ISFP and ENFP combination is very interesting and draws heavily on creativity. Both types are known as free spirits who don’t like to conform to norms, and they want to create and invest in things that resonate with them. These two types share Introverted Feeling (Fi) in their cognitive stack. It asks, "Is this good? Bad? Do I like this?" Your ideals guide your decisions and preferences. You can’t be forced into something you’re not in tune with, or you’ll become unproductive—or worse, completely stuck.

✦ I haven’t even touched on the headcanons yet, so the curtain rises now :)

✦ You met at the end of autumn, early winter, when the season was still clinging to its russet leaves, but the white of the ground had already started to appear.

✦ Back then, Chigiri still had short hair and ran faster than light. You, as usual, were surrounded by people, admired by the teachers. Good grades. Your profile was enough to make others envious, but it was so distant from you that it didn’t really affect you.

✦ In any case, it wasn’t a concern you showed.

✦ The fact that you didn’t speak right away, even though you probably knew Chigiri from afar—everyone talked about him. People talked about you too, but it was hard to tell if Chigiri was aware of you. In truth, apart from soccer, there wasn’t much that could hold his attention for more than five minutes.

✦ … And you liked that. The fact that he always gave everything for his passion. That he was bold, laughed in the face of the slower ones. There was a part of you that didn’t necessarily approve, but another part that admired this confidence. Only the best can afford to act like that.

✦ You watched him play from the stands. Soccer wasn’t something you always understood—the rules or the appeal—but the team spirit, the way people fought hard to score goals; that you liked. You understood the excitement of gathering around the field to cheer on one side and then the other. It was a moment shared with others.

✦ What eventually made Chigiri approachable was, ironically, the very thing that shattered his rise.

✦ During a match, his leg twisted, and you didn’t see the redhead on the field again after that.

✦ You were there. You saw what happened.

✦ And you also noticed how everything changed for Chigiri once he returned to school, without the weapon that set him apart from the rest and elevated him above others. His knee now had a brace.

✦ Most people scattered, lost interest. The strongest had fallen, so there was no point in orbiting around him anymore; there were other heroes.

✦ You saw him, sitting under the isolated tree behind the school. He was alone, and instinctively, you knew he wasn’t seeking company.

✦ But you couldn’t help it.

✦ You joined him, announcing yourself politely. You were alone, so it was easier for Chigiri to accept you sitting beside him.

✦ From your backpack, you pulled out snacks from the konbini—you knew Chigiri liked them. He always opened a pack after training.

✦ The fact that you remembered this moved him deeply. Everyone only defined Chigiri by his abilities on the field, never by what he liked. You remembered that he liked sweet snacks and even brought some tea in a thermos.

✦ You shared the food while talking until sunset, and even now, that remains one of the best autumns Chigiri had ever known.

✦ Even at the end of high school, when your paths diverged, he kept in touch by phone. He regularly sends pictures of landscapes he finds beautiful. Cats he finds on the street. Cherry blossoms in spring.

✦ Time and obligations sometimes keep you apart for long weeks, even months, but you always end up crossing paths again in the shopping streets of Tokyo. More specifically, near the clothing stores.

✦ You both followed each other on Pinterest and enjoyed pinning photos to your shared boards. You smile when you notice a new picture added and see the other’s name beneath it.

✦ "Look, this reminded me of you."

✦ Skies with changing colors are your favorite photos.

✦ Even with his busy schedule, he always comes to see you during your horseback riding performances. These shows are particularly beautiful, and his respect for your understanding of horses is immense. Anyone good with animals is undoubtedly a good person.

✦ He claps without shouting, always with a smile on his face. He knows you’ll spot him in the crowd.

✦ He keeps the little trinkets you give him, attaching them to his phone, keeping them in his fanny pack.

✦ When he’s in town, a thought of you always wanders through his mind, and he takes out his phone: "I’m near the mall. Want to meet up? It’s time to see who’s kept the best fashion sense."

✦ Always a slightly teasing remark, but never mean.

✦ Like you, Chigiri remembers the little details and the things you like. He’s even become surprisingly good at gifting you the best stationery—cute and colorful pens, notebooks, everything.

✦ When he was able to run again without fear of injuring his knee, you were the first person he told.

✦ "The match against the U-20 is coming up soon. You’ll see me on the field, Mira, and I’ll be running."

✦ ONE SHOT TIME.

The match against the U-20 had passed, and Blue Lock had won.

Blue Lock. You hadn’t heard much about it, only what Chigiri had told you. And Chigiri wasn’t the most talkative guy in the world, especially when it came to his own affairs.

But one thing was clear: he had joined the program and was running again.

Running.

It was something that defined the one who earned the nickname of the Red Panther. And you had seen him dash faster than anyone on the field. There was something beautiful about watching Chigiri play, whether it was his fluid, controlled footwork. His straight trajectory along each wing of the field while everyone else was crowded near the goal. His red hair gleaming above his shoulders like a dancing flame.

You had found Chigiri in all his former glory.

When the final goal was scored, signaling the end of the match, everything inside you tightened with joy. Your first instinct was to suggest to Chigiri that you meet up in the city during the break, at the café you used to go to in high school. The sign hadn’t changed, and luckily: you could still enjoy your favorite dishes there.

The Cat’s Corner welcomed you with its Parisian café tones, its wooden tables, old paintings, and tiled floors.

Chigiri had just arrived at the table where you were already seated.

"Hey, champ! So, you’ve been hiding the fact that you’ve become super strong from me!" You say with a big smile, opening your arms to welcome your friend in a hug.

"I’m just saving the surprise to make my comeback more epic, what do you think?"

"You were amazing. That was an incredible match, I can’t believe it!"

"Me neither, you know. It wasn’t looking great at first; we were all a mess."

Chigiri sits down, reaching for the menu, but your hand stops on his wrist.

"I already ordered! Karinto manjuu and green tea for you, sir."

"Wow, what a memory! Good thing I haven’t been getting that for ten years!"

"Tsk, amateur. You think just because it’s been months I don’t remember what I brought you under that tree?"

"You remember that?"

"How could I forget? With your funeral face, it looked like the world was ending."

"That’s pretty much how I felt."

"And now, how do you feel?"

"Now…"

Chigiri glanced away, looking at the passing crowd. The constant noise rocked the rhythm of his thoughts.

"… peaceful, I’d say. To be able to… play like before. I’m not scared of blowing out my knee anymore."

"What happened then, while you were stuck in a new block with just guys?"

You smile, and quickly, a teasing expression crosses Chigiri’s face.

"Don’t start imagining things—it’s just teammates, nothing more!"

"Yeah, yeah… We all went through the yaoi phase in middle school, Hyoma!"

"Maybe you did. I was training to be the best."

"And now?"

"Nothing’s changed. I’m still training hard. To beat who I used to be… and to finally be the best striker."

Chigiri’s order arrives, and the steaming tea seems to plunge him into deep thought.

"This time, I won’t slow down. I’m not afraid anymore. I’ll give it my all to get there, even if it costs me my tendon. Hey, Mira. Will you follow me in this new ascent?"

There was no need for an answer to understand the obvious, which only made your smile grow.

A word about your match: As I mentioned, I revised my choice because I believe that with Nagi, the spark just won't catch. There are too many differences between the two of you, and even though I love opposites-attract dynamics, considering the traits you like and dislike in someone, Nagi is, rationally, not a good match for you. Nevertheless, I still posted the matchup I had originally planned with him (because, well, why not) HERE in case the draft analysis I made interests you. Enjoy!

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | SEPTEMBER '24 MATCHUPS EDITION.

[incarnadinedreams]

What do you think about jyl's death? And how it's described? I have always find interesting how she doesn't talk to jc

Aaah, this is a tough one. It's another one where I go back and forth and change my mind or feel a bit differently each time I read it and can definitely be swayed by persuasive arguments!

On the one hand, I do think it's one of the areas of the story where she actually gets to show more agency and one of the very few scenes we actually get to see any of her thoughts directly. But on the other hand, it also feels a bit… fridgy. From like an out-of-universe level I did kinda feel like the setup for it was pretty weak. It does feel a bit like MXTX just needed to set up her tragic death that's kinda-but-not-fully WWX's fault, and there's a littttttle too much handwaving about how she got there, why she made the decisions she did, and so on. So that ends up making it feel not quite as impactful or fully fleshed-out for me as maybe it could have.

With the way the scene plays out, even though she's the one dying it still feels like her death scene is really more about WWX than it is about her, and even more about giving Jiang Cheng the final snapping point, the singular crystallized moment when his faith in Wei Wuxian truly shatters, when he realizes that Wei Wuxian really can't control it after all, that things won't be fine. So even in her death it still feels like it's a little too much about other people for my taste.

Because of that, I do go back and forth a lot about what to take from that scene and their interactions. I do appreciate that she didn't just forgive WWX for killing JZX, that what glimpses we do get of her thoughts are so interesting, I just wish it felt like it came together in a way that didn't feel quite so much like the author going "welp, time for Dutiful Elder Sister randomly show up and die tragically." Part of what I think feels awkward about the scene (again, from a more meta standpoint) is the way we've got her being seriously injuried (but not fatally) by one of the uncontrolled corpses, then a small interlude, and then her actually dying from an attack from someone else entirely.

But all that aside, I do think it is sort of the culmination of a pattern of interactions throughout their lives. Wei Wuxian at the center of a whirlwind of events, Jiang Yanli the self-sacrificing attempted mediator, and Jiang Cheng is either not involved, shows up late and confused, or is left cleaning up the pieces at the end. It ramps up throughout the pre-ressurrection timeline: first in fun, innocent ways (childhood shenanigans, their hijinks in Lotus Pier and at Cloud Recesses), then escalating again and again in scenes like the soup catastrophe at Langya or the Phoenix Mountain night hunt, until it culminates in this scene.

I don't think it's evidence that she loved Wei Wuxian more than Jiang Cheng (which I've seen floating around before, sometimes in a 'proof that JC is so awful even his sister doesn't care about him at all' sort of way), but I do think it plays into a common pattern we see playing out throughout their lives, where Wei Wuxian is simply more… attention grabbing, I guess? At least in the scenes we're shown (biased narration and all that). So much of Jiang Cheng's efforts are to follow the rules, succeed in very traditional and in-the-box ways, to be responsible and fulfill his duties, to do well enough to keep his mother happy (or at least not actively angry) without drawing too much attention or trouble. Cautious, steady, hardworking, but not flashy.

Wei Wuxian was always the opposite of that, the shining star that can't be ignored no matter what. Flashy, attention-grabbing, shameless, charming, funny, talented, all the things that set him apart in the best of times. And in the worst of times, he's the one she's there to talk to, he's the one who killed her husband (if unintentionally), he's the one with the zombie horde he can't fully control, he's the one with the Extremely Overpowered Magical Artifact, and he's the one she just sacrificed herself for. So in some ways it does naturally follow that she would be more focused on him. And as a side effect of all that, Jiang Cheng is once again just kind of… there but not the focus.

I do like to headcanon that it does bring him a lot of grief and insecurity, mostly because 'grief and insecurity' are basically Jiang Cheng's calling cards. And grief brings nearly inevitable anger, and there's a ton of juicy potential with him dealing with his secret anger at her for the choice she made, dealing with the feeling of being a helpless bystander, and feeling always second-place, even then in that moment. And of course the most forbidden question of all, why would she rather die for him than live for us?

So I think in the context of how Jiang Cheng might have felt about it (and exploring that in headcanons/fic/etc) there's a ton of potential to go absolutely buck wild with all kinds of repressed anger and resentment and have it still feel totally authentic to me, because grief is just Like That.

[momentsofhyuka]

decode (part 3)

summary:

Being a vampire could be kind of lonely. Considering how long you’ve lived for you were set on never finding love. That being said you really weren’t expecting to fall for the human embodiment of sunshine with the world's quietest thoughts.

or: the sort of Twilight!TXT AU no one asked for

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. decode masterlist

paring: huening kai x reader

word count: 3.6k

genre: twilight!AU, vampire AU, strangers to lovers, slight angst, misunderstandings

warnings: cursing, injury, car accident, vampires (and all related vampire lore)

notes: so sorry the new update took so long life has been a little crazy I hope u enjoy it :)

You knew it wouldn’t be as easy as letting Kai go to the local doctor by himself. 

“Well, you should go too. You’re probably hurt as well,” Kai called to you amidst the rush of people pulling him to the ambulance. A murmur of agreements rang through the crowd although no one else was brave enough to outright tell you or motion you towards the ambulance. 

“I’m fine really. I got pretty lucky. I’ll go just to be sure but my siblings can take me, no need for the ambulance,” you flippantly waved him off already beginning to walk towards your waiting (and angry) siblings before he could try and insist you get in the ambulance again. 

You needed to be far, far away from him right now.

Approaching the cars you noted how none of your siblings decided to comment just yet, but their thoughts were doing more than enough to let you know what a major fuck up you just allowed to happen. Dejected you walk towards one of the cars only to be stopped by Yeonjun, indicating that he would drive you. Alone. Everyone else was going to take the second

car. 

Of all of your siblings he was the “oldest” or first turned, which meant that for all his teasing and playfulness he was also just as serious and authoritative. He was definitely the wrong person to piss off but from what you could sense he was more disappointed than

anything. 

Somehow that hurt worse than his anger.

You briefly glanced back at your other siblings as you got into the car with Yeonjun, receiving a sympathetic smile from Beomgyu. At least someone seemed to be on your side right now. Not that you deserved it.

The car ride to the hospital was tense and awkward. You didn’t dare speak first, not even sure what to say. You wish you could say you truly regretted saving Kai, but then you remember the relief that flooded your body when you realized he was okay and you find you don’t regret anything. 

Weirdly enough you also trusted him. You knew deep down he was not going to tell anyone what had truly happened, he would let everyone believe that you were nearby as you claimed. He was curious about you sure. A little confused and upset? Definitely. He wasn’t cruel though. 

Tuning back into the drive you went rigid as Yeonjun finally began to speak. 

“Look, I know you like this guy and honestly it’s really good to see you interested in someone. I mean it. But, you need to be more careful. This was way too close of a call. I think out of all of us you are probably the most responsible and paranoid about someone discovering our secret, which makes this so surprising. I get why you did it I really do and i won’t scold you more than this when I know you are beating yourself up enough already but please, be smart in how you handle the aftermath,” he finished, tone grim but demeanor less intimidating than before.

If you could cry, you would be sobbing by now. He was right. You did know better but also you couldn’t just let Kai get hit. You simply nodded in response giving a soft thank you as you continued to try and gather your thoughts on this whole situation. 

The hospital was just how you remembered it. Cold, boring, practically empty. The only difference was this time there was actually an ambulance bringing someone over. You caught a glimpse of a very embarrassed Kai being wheeled in, likely insisting that he’s fine. Yeonjun gestured for you guys to head in and you followed after him, eyes never leaving Kai for as long as you could see him. You were so gone for him already. Fuck.

The head doctor was actually also a vampire, and an old friend of your family’s clan. He greeted you warmly as you walked in with Yeonjun in tow, but quickly returned to his professional demeanor to check on Kai. Knowing the doctor and having the towns patrons be incredibly intimidated by your family had some perks as you were able to follow Kai to the check up area without being stopped. This probably violated some sort of patient confidentiality rule but no one was going to tell you anything. 

You heard a little commotion and turned around to find the rest of your siblings had also come. You were surprised, assuming they would’ve just gone home. “How is he?” questioned Taehyun as soon as he was within human hearing range. You shrugged in response still working through the shock of seeing them here. This left you wondering if they cared about Kai too.

Speaking of, you briefly caught Kai’s eye and were surprised to see him looking at your family in confusion. You quickly diverted your gaze.

The doctor thoroughly checked over Kai and after ensuring there was no concussion, he allowed Kai to be released with the condition of getting “plenty of rest.” 

Just as he was standing up Kai suddenly blurted out, “Are you by any chance related to their family?” He motioned towards where you all were standing, and you felt Yeonjun tense immediately. 

You could tell the doctor was surprised someone had noticed the slight similarity vampires shared as a means of luring in prey, but he handled the question well insisting that he was an old friend of the family but nothing more. He also diverted back to Kai’s health, motioning him towards the receptionist as he shot you a questioning look. 

You walked back to the lobby with your family as you waited for Kai to fill out any necessary paperwork. You don’t know why you were so anxious to see him (a lie, you knew exactly why), but you didn’t feel ready to leave just yet.

While waiting, you questioned the rest of your siblings on why they were here. They confirmed your suspicions that while mainly worried about you, they wanted to know if Kai was okay as well. This made you smile a little bit, a welcome joy in this whirlwind of a day. 

“Don’t think we aren’t going to talk about this when we get back home though,” Soobin continued, voice taking on a slightly sterner edge. You nodded having not expected otherwise, but were quickly distracted by Kai exiting the reception area and rapidly approaching you. He had a determined glint to his eyes that left you feeling unsettled. 

“Can I speak to you please? Alone,” he requested, eyes briefly flickering over to your siblings when he said alone. Caught off guard you easily followed him towards the corner, where he once again began to interrogate you on what had happened.

You had a choice to make here. You could give in a little to appease his curiosity, but that meant compromising your family even more. There was also the option of doubling down on your earlier gaslighting, something that left guilt gnawing at your stomach already. However, with your family easily within hearing distance and already upset with you, the choice was made no matter what you truly wanted to do.

“I already told you,” you began slowly, “I was right by your car I don’t know how you didn’t see me. It was pure luck I was even able to make it in time to push you away.”

“Yeah right. I know what I saw. You were across the parking lot, there’s no humanly possible way you made it to me in time. Plus you didn’t just push me away, you stopped the car with your hand ! I heard the metal crunch and everything,” he replied, suddenly a lot more agitated after your earlier claims.

“Look, all i want is the truth. I won’t tell anyone I swear but I don’t like feeling like i’m insane when there’s obviously some sort of explanation you could give,” he pleaded in a calmer fashion, confirming your earlier suspicions of his trustworthiness. He wasn’t lying either. 

You almost gave in right then and there but the looming presence of your siblings kept you in check. Feeling terrible you gave out a weak laugh and insisted that he probably did have some sort of concussion that maybe the doctor missed because he was not making sense.

His face hardened and he softly said, “And here I thought we were actually on the path to being friends,” before walking out, fed up with your lies and evasions. That was punishment enough for everything you had caused. 

Defeated, you walked back to your siblings and followed them to the cars, just wanting to get home. No one said a word the entire ride. What could be said? 

Being home wasn’t any better. Yeonjun immediately called for a family meeting and you all flocked to the dining table. Based on their thoughts you noted that they were divided in their stances. Soobin and Yeonjun were a lot more on the fence about Kai. Beomgyu and Taehyun saw this as a major setback but seemed to still be rooting for you and Kai.

“I’m sorry but it’s just so dangerous. He’s a great kid but he’s too observant. At least lie low for a little, avoid him as much as you can,” urged Yeonjun looking into your eyes pleadingly.

“That’ll be hard considering he’s my partner in Biology,” you countered, feeling defensive even if you sort of agreed with what he said. 

Beomgyu and Taehyun were offering support via their thoughts but had remained silent, letting the two eldest say their pieces. You knew they wouldn’t really say much anyways with Taehyun having seen how that would’ve played out and warning Beomgyu not to speak either to avoid a big fight.

“Look, I can feel how upsetting this all is for you just like I can feel how happy he makes you, but can we really trust him? It sucks I know, but we don’t even truly know him. What if he figures it out and runs to tell someone. That not only puts us in danger but him as well,” Soobin reasoned gently. He had a point, one you hadn’t considered.

Humans weren’t allowed to know about vampires. If anyone figured out he knew then his life was at risk. The incident with the doctor was already a close call. 

Looks like your decision was made for you yet again. “Fine, I’ll ignore him. It’s what’s best. For what it’s worth I’m sorry, I never meant to cause any of this or put us in danger I just thought I found a friend and let that cloud my judgement. It won’t happen again,” you responded, Kai’s earlier words ringing in your ears. 

The discussion was left at that and you decided to go up to your room and be alone for a while, ignoring Beomgyu and Taehyuns attempts to talk to you. 

The “good” news is that tomorrow would be a sunny day. None of you ever attended class on sunny days claiming illness or some other weak excuse that the school staff were too scared to counter. An unfortunate byproduct of being a vampire meant that the sun not only caused your skin to be reflective (as a means of luring in prey once again), but also was simply uncomfortable to endure for long periods of time. 

You didn’t have to worry about how you’d avoid Kai tomorrow since you wouldn’t even be there. Try as you might, you couldn’t ignore your brain screaming at you that he would definitely think you didn’t go just to avoid him. You needed to stop worrying about what he thought in regards to you if you wanted to succeed in ignoring him.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, and your day off was similar. You mainly let yourself wallow in misery with the limited time you had before you were going to be forced to take on your act of indifference towards Kai. Maybe Taehyun was right, maybe you were having an emo phase. 

The following day was cloudy once again, the stormy disposition of Forks failing you. It should be easy enough to ignore Kai either way considering your grade level had a field trip scheduled to the local compost center. How thrilling. 

Both Soobin and Taehyun were in the same grade as you, with Yeonjun and Beomgyu being in the year above you. Something Beomgyu thought would be hilarious despite being turned after Soobin and thus technically younger. 

You stuck by your siblings the whole day, doing your best to blend in amongst them and not catch Kais attention. Aware of your plan they ensured at least one of them was with you at all times from the classroom to the bus.

They’re pretty successful but of course the one moment you all aren’t on top of the formations Kai takes the chance to sneak next to you. Usually you’d have some sort of warning from hearing someone’s thoughts suddenly get louder but as always, he’s the exception.  

“So what after lying to me I don’t even get an apology just the silent treatment?” he begins tone lighter than you’d expect considering all that’s happened. 

Startled you whip around to look at him and then frantically look for your siblings. You spot them trying their best to make it to you through the dense crowd of students crammed into the greenhouse. Just your luck.

Deciding it would be a smarter move to at least speak to him than pretend he wasn’t even there you let out a resigned sigh and responded. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t lie to you but i’m sorry that things are turning out this way. Trust me it’s not what i wanted,” you pleaded a little, hoping he’d be able to read between the lines. 

Those ever curious eyes stared back at you completely unafraid of what they saw. Anyone else would’ve given up on you, too intimated or scared but right then and there you practically saw Kai make the choice to be kind to you despite your faults yet again.

His eyes softened minutely and he simply nodded saying “If that’s how it had to be then okay. I don’t really expect anything from you just please do your best not to completely shut me out.” The hopeful shine to his eyes had you forgetting all the decisions you had made just days prior. 

You gave a small smile in return and thankfully didn’t have to say more as your siblings finally caught up to you. Kai greeted them shyly and walked away, leaving you with their confused expressions. 

“What happened to ignoring him?” hissed Soobin, having heard the whole conversation. 

“What was I supposed to do just pretend he wasn’t even there. This was better damage control than complete isolation at least he’s not mad,” you countered, gesturing to where Kai was laughing with some other friends and no longer overthinking. At least for now. 

“That’s a good point. If he stayed upset or got even angrier from being ignored there’s no guarantee he would’ve really stayed quiet,” reasoned Taehyun in an attempt to support you and placate Soobin. 

Soobin ultimately agrees with you both giving out another warning to just be careful and the situation is moved on from.

The rest of the trip is uneventful and you find yourself back at the school for lunch time, experiencing no other runs ins with Kai. You somehow feel both grateful and disappointed. 

Your siblings once again waste no time filling in Yeonjun and Beomgyu on what had happened. Such gossips. 

You wince a little as Yeonjun immediately becomes upset, not buying into the flimsy reasoning you and Taehyun had pushed earlier. Just as he was about to open his mouth and say something to you, Beomgyu begins to speak. 

“I think it’s important to mention that Kai is currently drilling holes into our table with his eyes right now,” he states, tone incredibly amused. You hadn’t noticed considering you were doing your best to break your habit of checking in on Kai. 

Sure enough, when you glance over at his table, Kai is staring directly at you gaze serious but contemplative. Seems his momentary pause in overthinking was already over. You somehow find this endearing. 

Suddenly he stands, walking over to the fruit and salad bar in the cafeteria, eyes never really leaving your table. It’s almost like he was asking you to go speak with him. 

“You better go. Find a way to fix this please we can’t have him taking this much interest in us,” Yeonjun interupts, surprising you by suggesting you speak to Kai although his reasoning makes up for the confusion of the request. 

You don’t think twice about getting up and making your way over to Kai. Better to take the chance before Yeonjun changes his mind or someone else pitches in with another idea. 

Kai brightens up a little when he sees you approaching him. Seriously how is he so forgiving. 

Before he can speak you began talking, “You know you really should stop staring, some people think that’s rude.” 

“Ah yes, because you are so concerned with not being rude,” he immediately answers with a small smirk surprising you yet again. You hear your family giggling from across the cafeteria. Traitors. 

Attempting to not be phased you continue, “Seriously though, I know we talked earlier but it really is in your best interest to just forget about me.” It sounds weak even to your ears. 

“See, you keep saying these things and doing stuff to push me away yet you’re doing just as bad of a job at staying away from me,” he easily replies, smile never leaving his face. He has a point. 

You choose to remain quiet, sure that any response you can give right now he will ignore. Not that you can even think of a response to that. 

“Some of my friends are going to the beach soon, you should come with us. I want you to be there,” he continues on, not paying any attention to your warnings. 

“I can’t swim,” is stupidly the first excuse out of your mouth. 

“I can teach you !” is his immediate counter. Great. 

“I’m not really a beach person sorry,” you try again hoping he’d get the hint from the double rejection. You really do feel sorry, you’d love to spend more time with him. 

He stares at you eyes contemplating but ultimately drops the issue only to bring up something far worse. 

“Be real with me. Are you like a superhero or something?” he questions suddenly. 

You splutter in response not really sure what to say to that. You settle on a very squeaky “What?!”

“Sorry. I said earlier I didn’t expect anything from you and here I go questioning. It’s just I don’t know, it lines up a little with the heroic way you saved me,” he mumbles, embarrassed at having asked in the first place.

You stare at him in awe. All you’d done since you met him is be rude, cold, and dismissive 90% of the time and here he was calling you a superhero. Little does he know you were the furthest thing from that. He really was something else. 

“Um, it’s okay. I’m not by the way. Just clearing that up,” you awkwardly respond, deciding to remove yourself from the conversation. You give a small goodbye and rush back to your table only to be met with teasing from all your siblings. 

Even Yeonjun and Soobin weren’t that mad considering just how awkward that whole conversation was. You groan and bury your face into your arms. You were so utterly fucked. 

The rest of your classes were slow and boring, giving you plenty of time to agonize over what your life had turned into so quickly. Finally the bell rings signaling the end of the day and you begin the walk to the parking lot. 

As you’re nearing the car you spot Kai across the lot again, but this time he wasn’t alone. One of his classmates was with him clearly trying to flirt, ignoring the obvious discomfort on Kais face. 

“So, prom is coming up… we should totally go together,” she began, more of a request than a question. He gave a nervous laugh in response and the weak excuse of “being out of town” that weekend. He was a horrible liar, but he was so gentle with his rejection that the girl wasn’t even phased. You didn’t miss how his eyes briefly glanced over to you right before he answered her.

Soon after she left another of his friends approached him. You slowed down a little on your walk to the car, curious to hear more of his conversations. 

“We’re headed to the city this weekend to go shopping you have to come with us,” the friend excitedly begged. You expected another rejection but were surprised when Kai agreed, claiming he wanted to buy a book that was only available in a store downtown.

The friend seemed shocked by the easy acceptance too but wasted no time giving Kai the details of where they’d meet. This had you stopping in your tracks.

Of course Kai would be going shopping right next to the woods you and Beomgyu had decided to hunt at this weekend. Great. 

You tell your family as soon as they’re all by the car too and immediately push for a change of plans regarding the hunt. Surprisingly they all disagree claiming that you and Beomgyu will be careful enough and to not worry. 

How wrong they would come to be. 

. decode masterlist

[elstreem]

Habetrot Conversations and Profile Details

So I got Habbycat to Bond 5! (not...NP 5...I still just have her at NP 2...I literally got NP 2 Angry Mango and a 2nd Lily from the FP summons what is my cursed luck)

Anyway, long post and reminders for spoilers for LB 6 as Habetrot is only available once LB 6 is done.

For starters, looking at Habetrot's Bond conversations for My Room, she has very different lines for Gudao and Gudako.

I'll start with Gudao's set of conversations:

The first one is her teasing Gudao about Mash. BediGuda is my OTP, but I accept it will never be canon as the game obviously points to MashGuda, especially with the events of LB 6 - but no hard feelings, MashGuda is pretty cute and I like how supportive Habetrot is of Mash and Gudao getting together.

The 2nd one is talking about how tiring it is to deploy the Black Barrel. It makes a bit of sense that Habetrot points it out since she never really wielded it...though with how easy it is to loop her NP, poor Habbycat must be so sore if she's being used as a farming unit.

The third one presents some food for thought with Habetrot's remark about injuries. I do headcanon Ritsuka's got major issues both mentally and physically with everything they've gone through, and LB 6 actually showed it with RItsuka's sight blurring up several times, and even coughing up blood while remote summoning during the fight against Barghest. Heck, even as early as Babylonia, it is mentioned in the fight against Tiamat that Ritsuka's fingers were just about to undergo necrosis due to the strain of summoning.

So when Habetrot mentions injuries in her bond diloagues, I take it as confirmation that Ritsuka is canonically suffering from chronic pains and ills from pushing their body so much.

On another note, it's also interesting that Habetrot points out being a faerie makes her tougher than some Servants - especially when you consider some, like Jekyll, are almost basically humans in terms of abilities.

The last one is Habetrot mentioning that she never actually hears about Gudao's love life. It fits in neatly with my version of him, all things considered, I think Ritsuka is very friendly but respectful, and when others open up the topic of a serious relationship, he politely declines since he actually doesn't fall in love easily (until he and Bedivere grew close, that is). But that's just me.

But again, so cute that Habetrot wants to support Ritsuka,Ritsuka knows it and tells Habetrot they appreciate her efforts in turn.

Now for Gudako! Habetrot's dialogues for Gudako in general are geared towards treating her as a bride (though, if you check her profile, she remarks that despite her skill being exclusively effective on females, she thinks guys can be brides too. That's honestly sweet.)

Her first dialogue is planning to measure Gudako for a wedding dress! But also trying to hide her intent to do so, which isn't fooling anyone, Habbycat. Still, isn't it just so cute? I'm aroace and don't see myself getting married, but even I would be happy to have someone so enthusiastic to make an special outfit.

This second piece of dialogue is connected to another aspect of Habetrot mentioned in her profile, which states she basically lives out her dream of getting married through the brides she helps. Aww, Habbycat...

The next conversation is the counterpart to Habetrot reacting to Gudao's injuries, indicating that Gudako is also showing signs of being worse for wear after all the Lostbelts. It's a Gudako response to just brush it off with a laugh, huh? Poor gal...but Habetrot isn't taking that nonsense and she insists on treating Gudako right with some self-care and being pretty and-

That's really touching to me, Habetrot fussing over Gudako. Goodness knows how much the Chaldean Master has been through, probably the last thing on Gudako's mind is looking pretty... hell, self-care as a concept seems like a luxury in a fight to save the future. Who cares if you're showing signs of exhaustion, right? But at the same time, it is so important to do mundane, regular life activities and remind Ritsuka that she has a life, and hopefully, will be able to return to a life where she can dress up, go out and have fun.

The Bond 5 conversation is Habetrot firmly declaring her will to make Mash and Ritsuka happy brides. Just...🥺🥺

I'd like to imagine that when F/GO ends and Ritsuka returns to a normal world, all the Servants are constantly watching over them from the Throne, and some, like Habetrot here, will secretly help out Ritsuka in all sorts of things even when they're no longer a Master. assuming, of course, Fujimaru Ritsuka is still human at the end of F/GO, given the implications of some remarks...

That's the Bond conversations done - I really loved unlocking these and getting character insights. One last My Room dialogue that changes depending if Gudako or Gudao is set at your character is this:

Which I think is the response "what do you think of our Servant-Master relationship?" that all Servants have responses to.

And as for people that Habetrot reacts to, she mentions Mash and that she notices Mash does get a bit sad talking to her...and then there's this.

Which, by the way, Habetrot will say this particular dialogue without any change in expression.

Er, Habbycat? Blink twice if you need help.

[grab-the-bananaguns]

A little story and a rant for y’all

On Thursday one of my classmates was having a bad day then got snippy at the teacher, and to be honest I don’t blame him because it’s the Afrikaans teacher and she sprung a surprise test on us and expected us to have studiedly (well it wasn’t that much of a surprise, she had told us about it at the beginning of the term/semester and hadn’t reminded us since plus almost all the study material was online and she never told us) when class ended he violently pushed in his chair it made a loud noise then the teacher told him to loose the attitude. First off if anyone under the age of 13 had done that she would just think it was an angry child, second this is a boy who has never learnt how to express his emotions well, and third we are a bunch of hormonal teenagers who can get set off easily (and most of us have ADHD and/or autism, so we can get set off by ‘unimportant’ things). This teacher has said I was giving her attitude the day after I had 3 melt downs because I told her not to touch my hair, she has also tried to hug me, and made herself the victim after she hadn’t informed me that I needed to go to homework class on the one day I do exercise to recover from an injury I got at the school. This teacher just pisses me, my class and my friends off all the time because of how unempathetic she is towards the kids she blaming for their unhappiness in her class. I’m god damn happy she’s leaving the school. I was scared of her because what if I forgot to do one of my homework questions what if I forgot my book at home what if she tears a page out of my book because my hand writing is to messy for her taste. Some of my friends have told me a should feel a little bad that she’s leaving but she’s hurt me to much for me to feel anything for her.

She’s teaching at a school that prides itself for accommodating for the neurodivergent but this teacher has never once made me feel accommodated, she’s just made me feel more oppressed under the neurotypical standard that I can’t achieve, she says that I’m so smart and that I’m just lazy or not trying but I am trying to achieve the unachievable. I she spent a single day in my shoes she would see how I’m struggling to stay focused how I’m trying learn but can’t because I’m not interested in it.

This is really why I think that teacher, all teachers should know about basic neurodivergent conditions like ADHD, autism and dyslexia, this could be the difference between a person passing and failing because they’re being taught wrong or are just unaccommodated. I’m going to ask my therapist is she can ask the school to lay off a bit with how strict they are with their homework completion because I don’t have time to do it all especially around exams I will be handing in half done home work because I also needed to study and recover from school and even though I proved that I can do it I didn’t finish and that all the teachers care about so I get sent to homework class. This week alone I’ve been sent twice, which is twice more than any of the neurotypicals I know, but the teachers keep throwing homework at me completely expecting it to be done to next day or week.

And that’s the end of my rant

[firespirited]

It'd been a while since I'd done a r-dblr purge (mark red and block if they are actively cruel to trans people within the first page of their blog. You'd think feminist issues would be the bulk of posting, it's r-dical feminism after all and all the issues are ongoing. BTW I don't block people for hating men, they have a right to vent and it takes time to understand the systems at play that do allow for decent men even if you're not ready to to partner with any cishet ones) I probably marked and blocked 150 today, many 18-24 years old, lots of them lonely.

Doing the scan of a blog to make sure I'm not marking someone who didn't get the dogwhistles in a bigoted post means you see a lot of the content they're angry about.

I too hate porn unless it's safe sane and enthusiastically consensual.

That means performers who know exactly what they are getting into, who have alternatives if they want a different job and can set boundaries without being pushed or blacklisted for it. The majority of porn doesn't fit but the advent of amateur, onlyfans and ethical studios gives people options to view porn where no-one is hurt.

I also believe that all viewers need to know that pron is sex stunts and some things will not work for them, cause chafing or stds, cause injury if perfomed for real. That should be part of the viewing, a little PSA 'don't try this at home we're actors, we rehearsed the hair pulling so no-one's scalp got torn and switched condoms and edited it out'. Honestly I find most of the porno tropes misogynistic, macho and racist even though we've mostly left gonzo behind.

Straight Male performers aren't allowed to be shown as into their partner... when behind the scenes they get quite tender, briefly besotted with their partner when it's not an ego driven star.

I also have hard boundaries about what kind of porn a partner would watch. I pay extra for no slavery in my chocolate and expect a partner diligent enough to get their porn from people not getting boundaries violated or work injuries.

But there's no nuance to rdfm anti porn stances. They're going off trafficking victims and Linda Lovelace's speeches when sex work like marriage is a whole spectrum from a heinous crime to chosen job. And we have the ability to hear from all of these women. What they really want from their industry, from activists, from society at large. The in person full contact sex workers I've known were doing it so they could be present during the day for their children or get a higher education without their study time consumed by a low wage job. Another was seeking validation and briefly being loved, her rl relationships kept imploding because it was never enough or she'd push them to see if they'd love her anyway. That wasn't exactly sane. But you can't force anyone into getting meds and therapy if they're not ready.

There were articles about how marriage hurts women who must leave their family and join the husbands and instead of talking about the part of the research that showed that women who got men to move in with them were able to negotiate better work and pay equality, it was just desist and kill all men.

Funnily enough it's my "not really feminist", "don't like the term" , mum who originally sent me the study with a quote from Moses in genesis explaining Gd's guidelines "Therefore a man must leave his father and his mother and cling to his wife". Funny how many abramic religious marriages ignore that you can't be momma's boy and a husband and definitely not move your wife in with your folks.

Anyway that's this month's observations, those who actually did have 2nd wave posts on top of hating on transness are very young and are often starting out with the non black non queer reading from 30 years ago after a superficial lib fem alignment with zero reading. Often in college or just out of college having been 'peaked' against what they perceive to be mainstream feminism after seeing crime and inequality statistics. If you're interested in reducing terfs, a good place to start is outreach and local online bookclub where you can get the word of intersectionality and sisterhood out before the gcs groom them.

There is an initial curiosity, there is still that spark but it is being answered with unnuanced conclusions with simple explanations and "solutions" that shut down futher investigation.

There were also a couple of detrans afabs who will probably choose to be gnc or non binary or retransition when they're more comfortable with how they can be men. This is a systematic problem with trans medicalism that wants to stick people into binary boxes and insist they perform masc men and femme women. That's not a patient based approach and it's part of the conservative restrictions on the way gender care is allowed to exist at the fringes of healthcare.

[paperboy-pb]

One of the big themes I want to emphasize in PB is disability acceptance.

As "PAPERBOY" progresses, I'm gonna be showing off how much it hurts to live in a world without it-- having people not accept you solely because of conditions you can only help so much is horrible. And we all deserve to be accepted as we are by the people around us.

But at the same time, you shouldn't feel obligated to love every part of your disability either. Self-acceptance doesn't come naturally to everyone. And who knows, maybe your disability really does get in the way sometimes!

Amelia, Aza, Rudy, etc. don't really mind their situations. They're just used to it, and it barely bothers them, if at all. But maybe you're not like them!

Maybe you're like Wilbur & his Blindness, where your disability is taking away things you loved, leaving you to grieve.

Or maybe you're like Linus & his Epilepsy, where you've found a way to make life work for you but still think it's annoying sometimes.

Maybe you're like Karl & his Down Syndrome; it's not something that you can hide, but sometimes, you wish you could. It'd be nice to blend in with everyone else for a second, you know?

Or maybe you're like Matthew & his health conditions, and you've faced a lifetime of abuse for being born that way. And you're having a hard time accepting yourself as a result.

Or maybe you're like me & only recently got diagnosed with something. And you don't know how to handle it.

...

I got 4, if you're wondering. Autism. Asthma. MDD. But a while back, I found out that I've been suffering PTSD, too. And I didn't take it well. Honestly, I'm still not.

I don't know if it ever truly goes away, and I don't want to live with it. I'm not going anywhere, of course. But I've worked hard enough, man, give me a break! Am I supposed to just be okay knowing that I'm gonna keep having flashbacks & nightmares over stupid shit nobody understands? Having a TV in my head that constantly loops home videos I never wanted to see again?

It's not fair. I'm not even 20. I shouldn't have such dark, smudged skin under my eyes.

I revel in being autistic. I've made it work for me, and in my case, I find almost no downsides. And I don't really mind my Asthma anymore. I've had it pretty much my whole life now, & I'm kinda just used to it. Same thing with Depression, although I'm obviously not happy to have that one, either.

With PTSD though, it's newer. I've only had symptoms for a few years, and I've only known what was wrong for one. And I have to worry.

Is something gonna set it off? What do I do when it acts up? I'm interested in someone-- is my PTSD gonna be too much for them to handle? I feel weak, and if anything, I'm mad at me for getting traumatized in the first place!

I know I was a kid & that the trauma was genuinely bad, but... I'm a bit of a New York hard-ass. I'm supposed to be tougher than this, man! I was supposed to come out on top, brush it off & overcome it like I'm the shit.

A life with something as debilitating as PTSD is not what I had in mind. It's like... an injury, almost. You look at the damage and go, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

And I know I have to learn to accept life with PTSD one day. Because if I don't accept myself, I'm gonna be fighting myself & making it worse as hell. But I don't like how it holds me back in life. Or the toll it's taken on my body. And y'know what, we disabled people can be mad about that shit!

Why shouldn't we?

...

We're allowed to be hurt over it. We're allowed to be angry, annoyed, displeased, or whatever else we feel about it.

Getting back to Paperboy, we already know that Matthew struggles with being a disabled kid because he's been brought up to believe that being so is synonymous with worthlessness & inferiority. Not only that, but it's been a lot of bad people's "excuse" for targeting him. So... he hates it.

And that's okay for now. It's his to think about. Not anybody else's.

But he's not going to stay there, either. Because if you wanna live your life to the fullest, you're gonna need to live *with* disability. Because it is a part of life. Like it or not. And one day, he'll find a way to live with that.

If you notice anybody struggling with internalized ableism, or disability grief, or even just frustration... help them, but don't push them into acceptance too hard, either. It's a process.

Trust the process.

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 1 - Strong Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 15 - Deepening Ties - Part 1

Agenor

Here I stood, leading the Martina across the vast sea, my customary place on the forecastle. But this time was different, for beside me stood someone who filled me with pride. His presence seemed to infuse everything with greater meaning and value. I glanced at him and my eyes locked onto his. His gaze was fixed upon the sea and it perfectly reflected the blue of his own eyes.

"Feels good standing here, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, his voice calm but tinged with sadness.

"What were you thinking about?" I pressed.

"Nothing," he said.

I knew better than to accept that answer.

"Definitely not nothing. What's on your mind?"

He sighed and then muttered.

"You'll probably get angry."

"I won't. What's on your mind?"

"My father... I was thinking about him."

I could understand why he assumed I'd be upset. He struggled to let go of the past. But for once, I didn't want this conversation to end with him nursing another head injury.

"Your dad was a sailor, right?"

"Yes, one of the best. When I was young, I used to pester him to take me out on his boat."

"Not easy for a kid out there. Especially of noble blood."

"My mother was hard to convince. She worried about storms, me falling overboard, and pirates."

I chuckled.

"Wise woman."

"I used to think she was unnecessarily overprotective but now I see that I shouldn't have. Look where I am now. But she eventually relented and my dad taught me everything he knew. He showed me how to navigate between islands, how to read the stars, how to handle ropes, how to mend the sail and what to do when confronted with a storm. He was the only person who fully supported my dream of becoming a navigator. Everyone else believed that I should learn his trade and become a manager."

"So that's where you got your interest in navigation?"

"I disregarded everyone else's desires and pursued my own, I just wanted to be free. My father supported my choices, so I had no concerns. I had my life mapped out and was on the verge of attending a prestigious navigation school far from home. He started making arrangements for me to make my stay at the school comfortable. All he wanted was for me to focus on my studies. Then he was suddenly very ill. After his passing, I began to question whether I had made the right decision by not adhering to others' wishes. If I had not been so selfish, my mother would not have felt compelled to marry Terry and my father may have passed away without worrying about his family and the business he spent his best years building. I was very selfish and because of my ignorance, I am today an ungrateful son."

He abandoned his own aspirations and worked tirelessly to keep a successful business. Yet despite sacrificing his own dreams for the sake of his family, he still cannot shake his feelings of guilt.

"Nyx, your father was a rare exception among fathers. While many abandon their families or sell their daughters to brothels, he was not that kind of man. He would be proud of everything you've accomplished and would want you to continue pursuing your dreams."

Nyx stared at me, a little surprised at my words. He seemed to consider them for a moment before replying with a calm and soothing tone.

"Thank you".

I nodded, slightly struck by how much his quiet gratitude affected me.

"Your fate is in my hands, Nyx," I continued.

"But I promise to make sure that your dreams come true. You deserve to enjoy the beauty of this world and I will help you achieve that."

His lips parted slightly and I could tell he was confused as he considered my words carefully. He chose not to answer me though. I guess he was starting to choose his questions more carefully now. The idea of him learning his way around me was delightful.

"We're going inside."

"Already?" he replied with disappointment.

"The sun is setting," I reminded him.

"I want to stay a bit more," he said with a hint of rebellion.

Normally, I didn't tolerate being talked back to but I could see why he was so eager to stay out here.

"Fine, just a bit more."

He looked relieved and gazed at the beautiful scenery, trying to savor every moment. After he shared his past and his love for sailing with me, I realized how hard all of this must be for him. It was also a pleasant surprise to learn that he wasn't the landlubber I thought he was. I wanted to check on things around my ship but I couldn't bring myself to leave him standing there alone. Having him close by was rewarding and I also couldn't trust him not to do anything foolish. However, he had assured me that he would behave and if I wanted him to trust me, I had to trust him as well. So, reluctantly, I turned and walked away.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have some things to do. I am the captain, after all," I teased'

"Are you scared to stay by yourself?"

"Scared. Who the hell is scared. Go take care of whatever you need," he replied, trying to hide his nervousness.

"Good," I said before leaving him.

However, something in my head kept nagging me to go back, irritating me. God, I had never been so preoccupied with someone before.

"We'll drop sail here for today," I announced to a couple of pirates.

"Aye, captain," they replied enthusiastically.

I carefully surveyed the scene before me. The crew had already finished dinner and were now indulging in alcohol. Baril was torturing us with his terrible singing, Ace was guzzling liquor without pause and the others were scattered about the quarterdeck. Some of them eyed me strangely, likely due to the alcohol clouding their judgment.

Leaving the hull, I approached Nyx who stood exactly where I had left him. As I drew near, I noticed a figure standing beside the front deck, shrouded in darkness. Intrigued, I took a few noiseless steps closer to investigate. It was Ken. What was he doing there? He gazed fixedly at Nyx, who appeared oblivious to his presence. Ken took a step forward, emerging from the shadows. I called out to him.

"Ken."

"Aye captain," he responded, startled.

"Are you not drinking tonight?"

"I certainly am, captain," he replied.

His eyes briefly darted towards Nyx before he continued,

"I plan to drink heavily."

With that, he turned and walked away, his eyes downcast. Leaving Nyx alone was a mistake. Though I knew no one would dare to touch him as my property, trust was a scarce commodity among pirates.

"What's wrong?" Nyx asked, his face creased with worry.

He tended to fret excessively but I shared his concern. I didn't want him on his first day out with a crew of drunken pirates.

"Nothing," I said, urging him to follow me.

He complied and we entered the cabin.

[skyward-floored]

Hey Skyward! So, one your recent answers got me hoping, (if you have time) regarding the Incredibles AU- I thought it was really cool to see the different stages of “comfortable” Wild and Hyrule were in throughout your fics. It was just done really well. And I was left wondering, got any fluff or angst (or both) of their transitions from hiding/not speaking to crawling on Time’s bed because he’s sick?

Thank you! It was fun to write them both get gradually more comfortable with everyone, and it was a bit of a writing experiment too, slightly different than what I usually write :)

As for angst or fluff from them adjusting... hm.

They both had a lot of moments where it was one step forward three steps back, especially for Hyrule, who had to adjust to several more people then Wild did. Wild of course had his nightmares he had to deal with though, so they both had equal tough times and happy ones. They all counted it a victory when they finally got Hyrule to eat three meals a day though!

And I do have this scene here, which was an idea I wanted to put in Hyrule’s fic but didn’t quite fit in right anywhere. Living around people with questionable motives and living on the street in between leaves you with some marks... which in the fic Wild was supposed to notice and go “hey me too :D” but just didn’t fit in right.

But anyways, here’s a short, kinda unpolished scene of Twilight finding out Hyrule even has any scars (under a cut because this post is already a bit long)

...

Twilight caught a glimpse of the lines again later as Hyrule flipped the rock he was looking at over, and decided a closer look couldn’t hurt.

He tried to casually brush his hand over Hyrule’s sleeve the next time he reached for an interesting rock, but the younger boy noticed immediately. In fact, Hyrule jumped nearly straight up in the air at the touch, throwing himself backwards and putting up a shield before he realized what had happened.

Twilight immediately drew back from the younger boy, who was staring at him shakily as he dropped his shield. His eyes were wide as he clutched his arm around his chest, and Twilight could tell he was a few seconds away from bolting back inside.

“I’m sorry Hyrule, I wasn’t trying to scare you,” Twilight quickly apologized, keeping his voice soft. He slid back and gave Hyrule more space, and he seemed to slightly relax. “I just wanted to look at the marks on your arm.”

Hyrule pulled his arm in more tightly to his chest, and somehow shrunk even smaller into himself.

“Th-they’re just old marks,” he whispered.

“But do they hurt?” Twilight asked, hesitantly extending an arm. “I just want to help Hyrule. You know Wild has some scars too, we have stuff to put on them to make them hurt less. We could do the same for yours if you want.”

Hyrule stayed where he was, but let Twilight scoot closer again, carefully watching his outstretched arm.

After several long moments of silence, Hyrule took in a deep breath, then cautiously pulled his sleeve up, showing off the handful of scars marring his skin. Twilight stayed silent as the younger boy slowly extended his arm towards him.

“They’re all pretty small, they don’t hurt,” he said quietly, and carefully set his hand on Twilight’s. His palm felt clammy against Twilight’s. “Not anymore. Only the one.”

“Which one still hurts?” Twilight asked softly, looking over the marks, and Hyrule swallowed.

He hesitated, then carefully pulled part of his shirt up, exposing an angry knot of scarring a bit above his hip. Twilight paled as he took in the size and obvious deepness of the old injury, and Hyrule quickly tugged his shirt back down, looking uncomfortable.

“It doesn’t hurt very often,” Hyrule continued, trying to be reassuring. “Just sometimes.”

“Hyrule...” Twilight began, then stopped, not even sure of how to begin to ask about it. How on earth could he have gotten such an awful scar? What had happened to him?

He was interrupted from asking anything else by Malon calling from inside that dinner was ready. Hyrule perked up and pulled his sleeve back down, giving Twilight one last unreadable look before scampering out of the backyard.

Twilight watched him go with a worried lump settling in his stomach.

[quirklove]

# and/or ✈ + Tomura please ;v;

sick whump scenarios  // accepting!

+: being led back to bed with patient whispers

BABY... BABY BOY

How someone can act so unconcerned for their own health is beyond you, but that’s exactly what your boyfriend does with every injury or illness.

He’s shrugged off being shot in the past, and now he apparently finds it hard to rest despite having caught the worst cold you’ve ever seen anyone suffer with. Even with his entire body screaming, “Shut up, get in bed, and REST, you idiot!!”, he seems to have completely tuned out what’s best for him.

That said, you can’t find it in your heart to be angry with TOMURA given that every breath makes him cough hard enough to turn his face red.

You don’t exactly blame him for sitting at the bar, propped up on the counter with a glass next to him. If you were as sick as he is, you’d want a fucking drink too. Though, you thought him falling into an uneasy sleep meant you could take a nap too… evidently, the man can’t be left alone even while he’s passed out on knockoff NyQuil.

Whether the drink is his first or not, it can’t be good for him to be hitting the bottle right now. It’s only going to make him feel worse.

You exchange a knowing glance with Kurogiri, who’s behind the bar, as you approach. In his admittedly hard-to-read expression, you see him silently pleading for you to somehow get your other half resting again.

Your opening comes when you notice Tomura’s hand on the counter. His fingers are trembling, curled up into a half-fist and twitching constantly.

Even though you know he’ll shy away from the contact, you reach to set your hand over his. It’s like he jerks in slow motion, and he doesn’t even make it all the way. He’s obviously so sick as to be completely out of it. You’re thankful for it, though, because he would otherwise never let you so close to his hands.

They quiver against yours, shaking as if it’s the dead of winter. His whole body is shaking, actually, but it’s prominent with his hands. He peers up at you in confusion, looking through the hazy lens of a fever, and he appears to be freezing. “Mmh… hey… I thought you were asleep.”

“Yeah, I thought you were, too.” God, he sounds terrible. His voice is congested and raspier than normal, a feat you didn’t even know was possible. The way he’s speaking reminds you of something snagging on a pair of tights, like his voice gets caught on parts of words. If you were unsure that his throat hurts, you aren’t anymore. “What are you doing up, babe?”

“…” He looks into his half-full glass, and turns away only to muffle a sneeze into his elbow. (And probably only taking that consideration because you’re nearby.) “Mnh… I was thirsty.”

At least he’s honest.

“Be that as it may,” you chuckle, “you’re sick right now. It’s not a good idea to drink, and it’s not a good idea to be out of bed. Look at you ― your hands are shaking, you look like you’re gonna pass out anyway. C’mon, let’s go bad to bed and I’ll make you a cup of tea, okay?”

He grumbles at you, his trembling fingers curling around the glass. Unfortunately, in his feverish daze, he’s not controlling his Quirk very well, and the glass suddenly disintegrates, along with whatever alcohol was left inside. “Nnnh, fuck…” He bends forward with a couple of harsh sneezes, followed by a string of coughs that makes his whole body shudder. “Guhh, shit. Gross. Kurogiri, get me another one.”

Thank God, Kurogiri is obviously on your side here. “That is not in your best interest, Tomura Shigaraki. You should return to your room with (Name) (Surname).”

“Yeah, you should be lucky they’re even bothering with you.” On the other side of you, Dabi takes a gulp from his drink. “You’re being a stubborn dick. If I were them, I woulda left after I got out of bed and saw your stupid ass drinking while you’re dying of the plague.”

You glance over at him briefly, then his comments give you an idea. “I mean… I mean, yeah, Tomura. You’re acting like a big kid.” Of course, that’s only half true, but you turn to head out of the room anyway. “I think I’ll just, you know, leave you to it, then.”

You don’t get more than three steps away before hearing a chair scrape against the floor, and when you look back, Tomura is hunched over, coughing into one elbow with his other arm outstretched toward you. “Don’t… (Name)… don’t go…”

Well, you have to take pity on him, don’t you? He looks awful, and if he’s practically begging for you around the other League members, he must be in bad shape. Your heart goes soft for him pretty much immediately, so you step back and take his hand. Being careful to keep one of his fingers away from yours, you give him a gentle tug. “There we go, love. Come on, let’s get you back to bed. You’re way too sick to be out from under the covers.”

“Yeah…” he murmurs as he lets his head rest on your shoulder. “I’m freezing. Was it always this cold in here? Hey, Dabi, go shoplift a space heater…”

You snort and give Tomura a kiss on the top of his head. “Shh. You’re just cold because you’ve got a fever. We don’t need anyone to steal a space heater or anything else.”

“How about if I steal some more off-brand cough syrup?” Dabi calls. “Dumbass sounds like he got into my smokes.”

“Your good deed for the day is up to you,” you reply before turning your attention back to your boyfriend. “Come on, Tomura. Let me feel… you’re burning up.”

He coughs against your shoulder, sniffling, and his hand in yours shifts a little. “I was too hot in bed. But I’m cold out here. I had to have a drink to get warm.”

“Sure, sure… but Kurogiri could have made you tea. Which is actually a hot drink and might have helped you more than… what was that, vodka? Gin?”

“Alcohol burns, though. It should’ve warmed me up faster than tea would.”

You make the appropriate noises, as if his sick-person logic is very reasonable. Then again, it probably is reasonable to him. His brains are scrambled worse than eggs on a breakfast plate. “It doesn’t work like that, baby. How about we get back in bed, but don’t put the covers on this time?”

He huffs softly, though he does lean in against you more. “I guess.”

The two of you make it all the way into the bedroom, and only after you’ve got him carefully lying down on the bed does he speak up again. “Hey… (Name)…”

“Yeah, Tomura?” You slip in next to him; just as you promised, you forego the blanket. However, you do roll over to tenderly wrap your arms around his waist.

He all but folds in the face of your touch. “Mmmm… thanks.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.” He muffles a sneeze into his arm and coughs again, and God, he sounds so exhausted. “Guhhh… even when I’m a pain in the ass.” His body relaxes, hesitantly, melting against you. “You… take really good care of me.”

You lean over to kiss his cheek, making a mental note to get him into a cool shower when he wakes up next. It’ll do some good for the fever, and being clean will probably make him feel a thousand times more comfortable. “Well, someone has to. You don’t take very good care of yourself.”

He might be trying to form a reply, though he seems to stop when he realizes he doesn’t have a leg to stand on with this subject. “Yeah, well… I guess Dabi was right when he said I’m lucky you bother with me.”

“Shhhh. I love you, hon.” With that, you run your fingers through his hair, smiling at the way such a simple gesture makes any protest he might have had go quiet. “Get some sleep, okay?”

As if those were magic words, he starts to snore in about a minute.

Maybe he is lucky to have you.

But, you think you’re pretty lucky to have him, too. Even when something is wrong, like this… things are still pretty good.

At least you’ve managed to get him back in bed. If there’s one person who ever deserved some rest, it’s Tomura Shigaraki.

[wearywinchester]

Tempers

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, anger flares and feelings come out.

Requested by Anonymous: This is sooo ''let's pretend they're all alive' but I think we all need something nice now, could you do one where reader is bobby's daughter and she's your typical I like makeup, short skirts and heels girl and they're all (reluctantly) working with the ghost facers for a case, dean gets protective around her bc she's bobby's daughter and not at all bc he likes her no no what gave you that idea hehehe

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: little bit of jealousy, injuries, mentions of blood, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing

Hunting with the Winchester’s.

No matter the case, hunting with those two never failed to be interesting. You’d like to think you were a good hunter, in fact you knew you were. You might not have been the best there is but there’s not one hunter out there that hasn’t made a handful of mistakes on the job. It was bound to happen sometime. But you’ve had a pretty good hunter to learn from—your dad.

He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you hunting, not in the slightest and he tried his hardest to get you to go another direction with your life. But Bobby Singer was as stubborn as they come, so he should’ve expected his daughter to be just the same as himself. With all of the reluctance in the world, he taught you to be the hunter you are today, and that’s something he can feel confident in even though he might not admit it.

Dean hadn’t taken you too seriously the first time you’d accompanied them on a hunt for a vamp nest, treating you as if you were a child despite the mere one year age difference the two of you held. That quickly changed when you saved him from a great deal of danger that night; three vamps against a disarmed Dean surely wouldn’t have gone very well.

That was something you very much held over his head, giving it a good long while before you finally let him live it down save for a few mentions here and there.

Even then Dean was just as protective as he’d been since you were teens nearly ten years ago, you were Bobby’s daughter. That was always his reasoning for insisting you stay close to him on hunts, for losing his temper should the smallest of things happen to you. That was his reasoning for being adamant that you stay back on hunts he deemed too dangerous, trying his hardest to convince Bobby to stick with him on it. Bobby never disagrees with his reasoning, but he also knows you’re too stubborn for your own good.

Dean was the very same way.

The old house looked like something straight out of a movie, the stereotypical haunted house as boards stick haphazardly over broken windows and the grass is far too overgrown. Nearly every corner was littered with spiderwebs, the siding on the house covered in years of neglected dirt and moss. It was only perfectly fitting that it’d be haunted, otherwise that’d be a waste of an abandoned house.

You squinted up at it as you got out of the backseat of the Impala, turning back to look at the long driveway you’d just driven up, lined with old trees on either side before glancing back at the house. Your gaze shifts to Dean as you smooth out your jacket, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowed as you look up at the older Winchester.

“Nothing,” he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a pair of those ridiculously tall heels on. I have to say I’m shocked.”

You roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek as he nudges the toe of your tattered old boots, his smile still remaining as he looks down at you in amusement.

“Well I guess I’m full of surprises then, aren’t I?” You say as you rub your gloss in with a smack of your lips and brush past him to get to catch up to Sam, the smile you’d tried to stifle now tugging at your lips once your back was to him. But he knew it was there just as much as you saw his was when you turned back around to catch his expression.

He chuckled, brows soon furrowing as he shook his head. “Wait—what’s that supposed to mean?”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and quickened his pace, grumbling to himself about what your words could have meant as his brows furrowed. In a matter of moments you nearly smack into Sam, stopping just in time.

“What is it?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean mutters, and when you look at him that crease between his brows deepens and his jaw tenses, eyes rolling and you follow his gaze to the ever familiar van that sat parked on the other side of the trees. “Looks like the ghostbusters beat us to it.”

Ghostfacers.

You were more than surprised when Dean had caved on working the hunt with them, not without a couple of eye rolls and a few choice words for the pair mumbled not so discreetly under his breath. But all things considered, after what happened the last time, you were surprised he’d gone through with it. Although, Harry and Ed weren’t planning on leaving anyway. They may have been more than just a little intimidated by that ever famous Dean Winchester glare, one that never worked on you, but they weren’t scared enough to back down much to Dean’s dismay.

The more people there were, the better, but that didn’t stop the older Winchester from being protective over you. In fact, you were certain he was even more so.

“Stay with me,” Dean said, his words serious as he put his arm out in front of you, his gaze over at the two less than desired guests and their cameras having been less than pleased. Especially with the way they smiled at you and acted like a couple of fools with a crush.

“What am I five, Dean?” You say, pushing his arm down as you quicken your pace to walk with him rather than behind him.

He narrows his eyes down at you as his lips purse till those dimples appeared that you’ve come to know oh so well, and rarely were they not from discontentment.

“Would you slow down?” He huffs, a smile tugging at your lips.

You sigh, shaking your head in amusement.

You failed to miss the way the back of his hand had brushed over your knuckles as you walked along the shadowed hallway, thick with cobwebs and rubble scattering across the scratched wood floors. You were starting to wonder if the action was a simple accident or if he’d felt the same spark of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his chest as you felt in yours.

It could have been nothing, probably was, but you shook it off when you turned around the corner and tried not to think about it again.

The hunt was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, and it was one spirit against five people. Harry and Ed weren’t the best of help, not really, but it was more than you walked in with and it should have been better. But it wasn’t.

The spirit turned out to be far more vengeful than she let on, and as Dean suspected, it wasn’t a good idea to split up. Not in a house that was three times bigger than it seemed with a more than violent spirit on the loose. It most certainly didn’t help that the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the house dark enough to begin with even in daylight, it’s boarded up windows and burnt out lightbulbs working against you.

Had you not been there, Dean would more than readily have split up to cover more ground with the extra set of hands accompanying you this time, it only made sense to do so. But you were. You were there and you were just as stubborn as ever as you stood there in favor of the very idea that was just the opposite of what Dean wanted. What was a good idea to you and one to most was the worst thing he could possibly think of. He didn’t want you to stray far from him for reasons he’d never admit, not to you or himself, instead reasoning with a simple ‘because I said so’.

But that phrase didn’t work on you. It never did.

He knew. From the moment those two barreled down the stairs looking paler than the spirit you were after, holding all the hesitancy in the world in their body language he knew. The apologetic look Sam had given him wasn’t one that helped either, anger quick to spark within him as he closed his eyes for a moment. He should have known better than to believe they’d offer you any form of protection even though he knows you can hold your own. He should have known better than to quit arguing with you on the matter because maybe, just maybe you’d have given in and split up with him instead. Maybe you would still be with the group and not who knows where in this maze of a run down mansion.

It was a mess of maybe’s and what if’s that clouded his every thought.

But he didn’t argue and you were gone. You were swept away by Casper the not so friendly ghost and he was to blame. Bobby would be livid if he knew, he gets that, but Dean himself didn’t know what he’d do if something happened. He could deal with the wrath of Bobby Singer any day but he couldn’t deal with even just the thought of something happening to you and he couldn’t find it in him to grasp just why it was he felt that way. Maybe he could, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“You what?” Dean asked, anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. His question was low and the two words were more than venomous, more than telling of just how angry he’d been. He heard exactly what Ed had told him not thirty seconds before, he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could believe it actually, because it was Ed of all people, but that wasn’t the point.

Ed swallowed thickly and offered a nervous laugh in an attempt to stave off the tension that’d been building the moment they came back to Dean without you, backing up from the green eyed Winchester who’d been staring him down with a narrowed gaze. It wasn’t hard to see that his patience was wearing thin, and he knew he was pushing it the more he stalled. “She—she went ahead! It’s not like we could talk her out of it!”

His fists clenched and relaxed at his sides at the reasoning he just heard, crescent shaped imprints of his nails left behind on his palms in the wake of his increasing anger.

“You let her out of your sight?” He said, far louder than before. He grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the dilapidated old wall, the wood creaking under the newfound pressure against it and a cloud of dust forming. He’s more than tense as Dean crinkles his shirt between his fists, knuckles ivory white and jaw clenched tightly. He could see every freckle and every ounce of emotion in Dean’s eyes, that’s how close he was. He could see the angry quiver in his bottom lip and the flare of his nostrils, could feel his breath hitting his face as he stood pinned to the wall and his glasses even fogged up.

“What, you thought you’d play ‘Mr. Tough Guy’, try and protect her? Huh? Cause you sure as hell didn’t do a good job,” Dean grits out frustratedly.

“She said she’d kick my ass if I didn’t let her go ahead!” He splutters, nearly nose to nose with him.

Dean nodded, the smile on his face bitter as he slid his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” he says, sweating bullets by that point as he buckled under the pressure of Dean’s distress. He let out a noise when he shook him slightly and he knows that’s not the answer Dean needs to hear right now. “We were on the second floor when a door slammed around the corner!”

“Actually, they all closed so it’s kinda hard to tell which one,” Harry chimed in, growing timid the more he spoke as he stepped closer to Sam as some form of protection. He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously when Dean’s stare fell on him.

“Dean, we’ll find her, okay? Right now we’re just wasting time,” Sam says, noting Ed was two seconds from fainting from the anger radiating off the older Winchester.

Dean pushed him back once more before releasing his grip on his shirt, wrinkled and disheveled from the tightness of his fists. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that this was about more than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter. It was about more than just his annoyance with anything and everything that has to do with Ghostfacers. It was you.

He was angry, livid, as he snagged the flashlight from the table, storming off on his own. Not without his anger getting the better of him, a nearby chair taking the brunt of his frustration as it hits the wall. He remembers just what happened the last time he got stuck working a hunt with them, and he tried his hardest not to think about it.

Meanwhile, you found yourself stuck locked in a room you knew you weren’t in before you were taken. A room you didn’t even know existed in this house to begin with. For being a run down old building, the flimsy doors were stronger than they looked, but you suppose the powers of the supernatural didn’t really care about things like that.

Your knuckles were an angry shade of red, fists sore and throbbing from having pounded them against the door for the better part of what had to be ten minutes in an attempt to escape or at least grab someone’s attention. You were tired as you slumped back against the wall, tucked within the sparse circle of salt you managed to make. Your phone was dead and your flashlight was gone, your energy seemingly just as drained as everything else.

You could feel the I told you so’s coming from Dean, you knew they’d be there ready and waiting if you get out of this. It’s not like it had been completely undeserved, but you didn’t want to hear it. You knew you more than likely looked worse for wear as you sat within that circle, knew by the way you saw smears of crimson on your fingers when you wiped your cheek. It was no secret that you messed up big time with this one, you’d admit that, but admitting it to yourself didn’t help you in that moment and you certainly wouldn’t say it to Dean.

You found there were a lot of things you were hesitant on admitting to Dean, and in the current moment you weren’t so sure if you’d have the chance to bring any of them to light. Maybe it was for the best anyway, could save yourself the embarrassment of having feelings for the older Winchester in the first place. Though you can’t tell what was scarier, the thought of his inevitable discontent with you and your hunting capabilities should you make it out alive, or the very real possibility that you wouldn’t make it out alive.

Yeah, you definitely couldn’t decide that one.

You weren’t sure how or when you found yourself pining over green eyes; the two of you bickered more often than not each and every time you saw one another. If it wasn’t over the smell of your perfume filling up the Impala, it was the way his cologne hung on you after he gave you a hug just to make that happen, just to ruffle your hair after you’d just done it. It was the softer smiles you shared with each other without even realizing it.

But it didn’t really matter, not now it didn’t.

You were caught up with the sting of embarrassment coursing through you from having gotten lost in the first place—you were so adamant that you could do it on your own. It happens to Sam all the time, it happens to Dean all the time, but you couldn’t stop the heat burning in your cheeks or the frustration building in your stomach.

You didn’t know how much time had passed nor did you have a second to think on it before she appeared in front of you in a matter of seconds. The look on her face had you sitting a little straighter, back pressing to the wall behind you as you eyed the pitiful salt ring around you. She laughed tauntingly and you were beginning to think even that wouldn’t protect you, you knew it wouldn’t judging by the way each and every granule began to sift away and break apart it’s protective ring.

You swallow thickly as your eyes widened, both your gaze and hers shifting to the door briefly as it rattled. “Y/n?”

Your breath hitched, only the smallest bit of relief washing over you as her attention returned to you almost immediately. “Dean!”

She didn’t seem to mind his attempts at busting the door down, nor the axe that split through the wood. She knew full well she could send him across the room with a simple twitch of her finger should he break through, watching as you scramble to your feet.

In a matter of seconds she’d appeared mere inches from you, her hand grabbing your face, cold and unforgiving. You didn’t know just what it was she’d been doing, but you were more than aware of the pain beginning to lance through you the moment she touched your skin.

It was near unbearable, a sharp burn radiating through you as a pressure squeezed in on you, intense and unwavering. You were quite sure you’d never felt something so intensely, the feeling nearly taking your breath away. Of all the hunts you’d been on, of all the injuries you walked away with, they’ve got nothing on this.

One thing she didn’t count on was the handful of salt you gathered in your palm, too caught up in your demise to see you’d snagged it from the protective ring she broke. You pressed your hand to her wrist and watched her face twist and contort in discomfort, the action searing her arm where you’d touched it and releasing her grip on you in an instant as if you were venomous.

She pushed you to the wall in retaliation with a simple move of her hand, and if you thought she’d been angry now, you surely were mistaken. You groaned as the fragile old wall behind you cracked and crumbled around you, slumping on the ground once more in exhaustion. You caught sight of Dean’s face as the door began to give way, livid yet holding something you couldn’t quite place as your heart hammered in your chest.

But luck seemed to be on your side just this once, fear flashing across her face as she stood mere inches from you. Her yelp was shrill as she stumbled backwards, having burned up in a blaze of misery and screams. Your chest heaved as your shoulders slumped in relief, the heat of her disappearance having fanned over you and the door breaking loose in a heap of shards and splinters.

The pain she’d caused had begun to ebb away and subside, leaving the ache to remain and the fatigue you felt to rest heavier in your body as you stood to your feet with a bit of unbalance.

Dean had crossed the room in a matter of a few strides, the axe clattering to the floor as his hand settled on your cheek. You looked miserable, mascara smudged and a frown on your busted lip.

“You okay?” He asked, the furrow deep between his brows.

“Do not say ‘I told you so’,” you grumble, half humorous as you look up at him.

His lips purse, his thumb swiping over the cut running along your cheek that he was less than pleased about. Any other time he might’ve laughed, but not this time. The worried crease between his brows and the way his lips pointed downward at the corners had been telling enough that he wasn’t happy with the predicament you’d gotten yourself into, that he was the complete opposite of thrilled at the close call that had his heart pounding and his stress in overdrive. But right now he was relieved. You were here and you were okay, attitude and all.

Sam was first to rush in, Harry next and Ed hot on his heels as they stepped over the rubble and splinters of the broken door.

Ed’s own relief washed over him, happy to not be on the receiving end of an angry Dean Winchester’s punch. “You found her—”

“Shut it.”

It’d been quiet the whole car ride home, no music on the radio, no conversation, no quick witted jokes or typical conversation. It was quiet and it was tense, near uncomfortable as Sam was stuck in the tension between two people he knows have something brewing between them. But he said nothing, pretending he didn’t see the way his brother’s gaze flickers to the rear view every other minute to see if you’re okay, his jaw tense and his grip on the wheel nearly too tight.

Bobby wasn’t thrilled to see the way that spirit roughed you up, more than a few choice words thrown Dean’s way with anger in his tone. He expected that much, having braced for it the whole ride back. He didn’t argue, didn’t do much more than nod and clench his jaw, and he didn’t say just how it was that it happened in the first place either.

Now you were wandering through your dad’s house, quiet unlike it had been just two hours earlier. Your dad and Sam had both been asleep, the early hours of dawn beginning to roll around as dawn approached. You knew better than to believe Dean would be sleeping too, your thoughts confirmed when the door to the bedroom he’d been crashing in was still open, bed empty and still untouched from when he’d haphazardly made it the morning before.

You sighed when you saw him, sitting by himself on the back porch swing and the moment you stepped outside you saw the half-drunk bottle of beer in his hand. His gaze lifted to you when he heard the creak of the door, averting his stare moments later.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Go to bed.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

“Not tired,” he says, tipping his bottle against his lips as he takes another sip of his beer.

You huff out a soft sigh, arms crossing over your chest. That’s when he looks at you again, the dimness of the porch light having illuminated the jagged scratch on your cheek, freshly cleaned as well as the mascara that smudged under your eyes earlier. The tension in his jaw had yet to go away, obvious as ever.

“Are you going to be mad at me forever then?”

“‘M not mad anymore,” he says, and you knew for a fact that’d been a lie.

“You’re not that good a liar, Dean,” you say, watching him set his drink down and stand to his feet, leaning his weight on the wooden railing. “I had it handled, you know,” you say, watching his expression sour at your words.

You heard his scoff as you brushed past him, a sigh leaving your lips because you knew he’d react just the way he’d been acting. You were right with him, you were always right.

“Had it handled, my ass,” he said, quick to follow after you. “I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, well I did it,” you said, and he turned in front of you and spun around, keeping you from walking any further.

“Would you quit it with the tough guy act? You’re hurt and you damn well know it, I know it. Hell, anyone can see that. So do yourself a favor and stop pretending like you had everything under control because I know you better than to believe that.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him with a squinted gaze, watching as his chest rises and falls, at the way there was something more than anger pooling in his eyes as he looked at you. You’ve never seen him quite this upset over you before, not really, never seen him look at you that way before. He was angry, sure he was, but it was different.

He wasn’t wrong, you were hurting, it’s not everyday you’re on the receiving end of a vengeful spirits’ wrath. You went off on your own when you shouldn’t have been so bold and daring. But you were here. You were here and you were okay and you knew you were bound to do it again on another case. It was what being a hunter is about. You didn’t get this far by sitting back and letting the monsters out there come to you, you had to go out and look for them and if you got a few bumps and bruises then so be it.

“Why are you so mad, Dean?” You ask, watching his eyes roll. “You go out and do the same reckless things on a hunt, you’ve come out on the other side way worse than I did. But since it’s me, suddenly it’s a problem.”

“Exactly, it’s because it’s you!” He repeats, frustrated as ever as he throws his hands up. “And yeah I’m mad. I’m freakin’ pissed. You come in here thinking you’re invincible and you’re not Y/n. I’m mad because…” he paused, letting out a breath as he rubbed his face, hands running through his hair.

He looked at you then, expression softening as he calmed down a fraction. “Forget it.”

“No, not forget it,” you say, grabbing his wrist as he starts to walk away. His jaw was clenched as he looked down at you, swallowing thickly as the heaving of his chest slowed and his grip on the doorknob was tighter than ever.

This was the first time since you’d gotten back that he’d looked in your eyes for longer than a mere second or two. You knew he was on the brink of storming off to sulk in his own anger and guilt because that’s what he always did. You knew there was something more to it than just what he’d told you. He’d like to think that you’d believe that he wasn’t angry anymore, that he was over it. But Sam told you what happened back there, how upset he got with Ed and just how worried he’d been. It was growing increasingly obvious that there was more to it than that.

It was then that you noticed you’d still been holding onto his wrist and he didn’t pull away from you, didn’t make a move to.

You tilted your head to the side when you mulled things over, and that was when the sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that thing where you try and ‘read’ me,” he says, quoting the word.

“You were scared,” you said, smile widening a bit and he huffs, pulling his arm from your loose grip. You hit the nail right on the head.

“I was just doing what Bobby asked me to do,” he says, adamant that that was his reason for being as upset as he was. Definitely not over the feelings bubbling away in the pit of his stomach, just waiting to go ahead and boil over.

“No, you were scared, De,” you say as he starts to turn away from you in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to show. “You were scared that I got lost.”

You always did that. You always took his anger and made it something else entirely and he’d try his hardest to keep that wall up. He was mad at you, mad at you for putting yourself in the same kind of danger he allows himself to be in with every hunt he does. But if you keep poking and prodding him and calling him out on his true feelings with that smile that makes him weak in the knees he does know how long he’ll last.

“You got this all wrong, sweetheart.”

“Sam told me what happened with Ed back there.”

His expression changed, softened a bit before he played it off with that familiar smirk. “Yeah, Ed’s an idiot and he pushed my buttons.”

You nodded then, your smile more than telling that you didn’t believe a word he said. You heaved a sigh, a bit of disappointment burning in your chest at his words. Because maybe you did have it all wrong, maybe his stubborn reluctance to be honest was just him telling the truth. Maybe he was just doing what your dad asked him to do. Being protective was in his nature, you knew that for a fact.

You brushed past him on the porch and headed to the door, the chirping of the early morning birds sounding and giving you enough of a reminder that maybe you should go to bed. That maybe you’ll feel better with a few hours of sleep. That maybe they would be gone, Dean would be gone by the time you woke up and you wouldn’t have to face the fluttery feeling and the ache in your heart until the next time you see him.

You spin on your heel to find him already looking, your smile soft. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Without so much as a reply you twist the old brass doorknob, pushing the back door open before his hand grips your wrist. You turned back to look at him, brows furrowed as you gazed up at him. He swallows thickly as he looks at you, lips parting to speak but the very words he’d been thinking of so vividly were stuck on the top of his tongue.

His hand loosens around your wrist and the tips of his fingers slide down to your hand to envelope yours, calloused and warm and hesitant. He takes all but a few seconds of your curious gaze, of the questions sitting on your tongue before he dips down and presses his lips on yours. It’s soft, featherlight almost as he pulls away just as quickly.

He doesn’t stray too far, his nose brushing against yours as he swallows nervously, but the sight of your smile put him at ease. Had him kissing you with just a little more vigor as his hand drops yours in favor of pressing to your cheek, your own having settled in his arm. Your smiles mingle and press into each other, the kiss soft and languid as your cheeks burned under his touch.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” You murmur, and the way he hummed softly, the way he stole another kiss in favor of admitting you were was telling enough.

He pulls back to look at you, his lips kiss swollen and pink as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. His eyes bounce between yours and down to your lips, looking at you once more before he kisses you again. The anger he held is quick to melt when you look at him the way you do and he hates it, he loves it but he hates it because he really should be mad. You nearly got yourself killed and here he was weak in the knees and he knows you’ll be just as brave on the next hunt. He knows you’ll do just the same thing.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me,” he mumbles, smiling against your lips.

“Probably,” you say with a grin, his quiet laughter immediate as he pulls you closer.

But you were right. There was more to it than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter, there always was. As stubborn as Dean Winchester could be, you knew him better than that, and he knew you better than to believe you won’t make his heart race and his worry spike on every hunt after that. It’s just in your nature to be braver than ever.

But he’ll protect you each and every time.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @lanea-1 @campingmonkey