#mans are allowed to give sass back of course

[youdontknowe]

Heyyy this is both my therapy and the reason I need therapy so let’s see how much it hurts or helps this week LMAO

* Ehehe standing in the corner like 🧍

* Not the firebird (tbf it has no headlights)

* 😧 he’d be willing to leave BABY? Now that’s a dean in love

* Dean no you cannot play the I was dead card after using I’m on a timer card

* Lol sleepy girly is not waking up yet

* Awh her brain finally processing that he’s back

* lol Bobby always has someone to chew out on their dumb shit

* lol every time skip from sam is just ‘did you get bigger?’

* Ooooo enochian? That is awesome (cue cas and her sharing secret notes to shit talk)

* lol poor sam will never get to know his hair looks good

* I like the detail In translation doesn’t always quite work even if it’s psychological

* Ehehe if I remember correctly she was also compared to a cat (don’t quote me my memory isn’t grand)

* Uhoh I forgot about the whole Sam’s got a problem because of ruby

* I always like how you explain bobbys soul cus it fits his character so well!! Cus of course he’d be something solid cus he’s about the only solid thing for his kids (the boys ain’t johns kids in anything by name in my mind)

* Ooooo Mayhaps they’re like that because chuck has like them as like the most detailed characters? I dunno I could be talking crap

* Pfff dean catching sass off castiel

* Bros doing a lot of bending rules for an angel

* Lmao he doesn’t care she can’t be smited doesn’t even question it he just relaxed like ‘oh thank god(chuck?) that I don’t have to worry about that too’

* By far the most frustrating (in a good way) part of your slow burns is nones allowed to say I love you before like at minimum half way through the fic

* It’s on sight with ruby. She’s catching hands and a magic woodchopper

* Girls trip!! (They’re going to kill something but that’s what really makes a girls trip right?)

* Yesss dragon hoarding gold analogy 10/10

* Lmao at least she’s aware and not ruining Jo’s breakfast with the icky details

* Jo is now getting official little sister shit card for princess

* Lmao “I can see souls, Jo.” I read that in the most deadpan way

* In giggling so hard Jo is just throwing any and all teasing comments about dean whenever she can

* Woohoo Jo your so smart! Really taking after her mentor

* Dean saying please is literally just the magic word to get her to agree to something

* The fact it’s widely known deans obsessed is so funny and yes I agree with Jo I would marry a man who drove from the falls to Texas for me cus I googled it and that’s a minimum 15 hour drive 💀 (America is scary big wtf)

* Damn bro was fast as fuck to get there! He was totally like literally just entering the area and called to get where she was lmao

* Bobby having a topic he will rant for ages about is so dad canon

* Hehehe sleepover ritual is so cute but the image of dean in a face mask - PRICELESS

* Sam being fed up of Dean part 2329473

* I think my favourite little scenes are Dean quietly threatening people whenever princess is asleep on or next to him

* Yk it’s cool to think of like an alternate reality where she IS maybe a bit evil and wants something really big bad to go down and how unstoppable both her and Dean could be, just because he’d do anything for her and it’d be even worse if she guaranteed Sam and people he cares about safe during it

* Sad nightmares :(

* Bro has NO issues getting on his knees for her at any time and I’m living for it. Give me more men on their knees for their girls

* YES more dress content cus she’s rocking silk

* It’s never good when someone gets a bad feeling oh no I’m nervous

* Oh bloody hell it’s a disaster

* OH I like that we’re getting deans pov on what she looks like using her powers

* And back to the shitshow this hunt has become

* I love deans pov in all this it really secures the, chaos- omg she’s so pretty i would die for her- oh shit more chaos

* What’s happening oh no

* I’m panicking people I’m panicking

* OMG IS IT HAPPENING

* ITS HAPPENING AHHHHHH THEY SMOOCHIN

* Shit that was a tasty make out scene

* Lmao that must have been the single most victorious and awkward few minutes for Jo

* Magdalene is a cool asf name

* Ooooooo I love the history lessons and lore drops so much it’s amazing

* Yeah cas bad bad timing but tbf this is probably the best for Dean cus he’s got less things to worry about her hating him for

* Do we get more smoochin action next week? Pretty please

* End note: Dean really needs one of those shiny shock blankets they give out from ambulances n stuff. Hes really just gonna be sitting for weeks trying to wrap his head around the fact she’s seen all that in hell and STILL sticks to him. I love them so much

* It took a a little longer to read this week but I really enjoyed it 💙 im so excited we get to maybe see more physical affection from here cuz it’s finally happeningggg

Chapter 18 - You Can Start to Make It Better

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Return of the swaggy Monster of the Week cases.

Chapter Title from Hey Jude by The Beatles

Word Count: 17.9k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You go home, and try to get back into a rhythm. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 17 - Chapter 19

Read on A03!

You have rules.

If you’re going to love Dean, you have to have rules.

To keep yourself sane, and to keep Dean safe.

To ensure that your priority can be making sure Dean stays alive. You can never, ever fail him again, because now that you have him, it will take a biblical tragedy to make you lose him again.

So you have rules.

The first rule comes before the drive home. You stay the night in Texas, but neither of you really sleep. For Dean, it’s so the stiches can set, and for you, it’s so you can feel Dean’s arms around you and hear his heartbeat near your ear, his hand splayed gently over your stomach to monitor the stitches. Then, before the dawn has even fully broken the sky, you go.

Together.

Dean asked you not to run, so now you means you and Dean, together.

He goes to pick you up some non-bloodstained clothing—you’d slept in his shirt, and you’d both silently agreed not to talk about it—as you get the coffee, and when you start to change he takes a tall, rigid stance facing the door. It’s almost adorable, how he’s fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket and glowering at the walls. Like he’s somehow trying to preserve your modesty.

“We’re taking my car.” Dean mutters, and you freeze with one leg in the sweatpants.

“Dean, I’m not just leaving the Firebird.“

“Yeah, you are.”

“You gave me that car-“

“I’ll send Sammy back for it.” He snaps. “He’ll bus down and drive it back up, and you’ll stay with me.”

You roll your eyes, standing up straight as you finish with the sweats. “You never let Sam drive Baby, why is my car different-“

“Because.” Dean grunts, shooting you a glare as you shuffle over to his side. “I am not letting you drive back to Sioux Falls by yourself after you just got fucking shot, Princess. We’re leaving the Firebird.”

“You can be really dramatic, Deano, you know that?”

His lips twitch slightly. “It’s not dramatic to make sure you don’t bleed out somewhere in Oklahoma, Princess.”

“See, you sound dramatic-“

“And you’re not driving yourself home. Give it up.”

You pout up at him, putting on your best, innocent, sweet expression. “But my car, De. Please-“

“I don’t give a shit about your car.” He grumbles, and that breaks you in a second.

You could see the clench of his jaw and fists, hear the resolve in his voice, and this wasn’t a fight you were going to win. If Dean is valuing you over the car, you’d lost before the conversation even started.

It wasn’t like you really cared either way. If it were up to you, you’d climb onto Dean’s body and never be peeled away from him again.

“What about your car?” You hum, just to selfishly press a little further, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“If that’s what it’s gonna take to get your ass back home, we’ll take the freakin’ Firebird instead. But,” he narrows his eyes at you. “I’m driving, and you’re resting, and that’s it.”

You stare at him, and it creeps right up to the edge of your tongue. You love him. So much. Desperately and eternally, because he cares. More than anyone. All the time. You’ve seen him almost shoot people for looking at the Impala wrong, he’s willing to leave it in fucking Texas for you, and you can see how serious he is in his Gold—solid and burning in his body—and you love him-

“Dean, you don’t need to-“

“I do.” He grumbles, starting to herd you out the door. “I’ll carry you home on fucking foot, if I have to. You’re more important-“

“Than a car?!” 

Dean shoots you a glare, you offer him a soft, teasing smile, and he sighs. “And you’ve got the nerve to call me dramatic.”

“Bold words from the man who just said he’d carry me home on foot.” You hum, and Dean finally grins.

Wide and pretty and unrestrained, staring at you in the breaching light of the morning that’s somehow less golden than he is, and here. Alive.

Not yours, but with you. 

And you love him. 

“I missed you, Princess.” He mutters, and it’s a good thing you’re already half-pressed into his side. Otherwise, you would’ve fallen over.

“I missed you too,” you whisper, and Dean’s grin is beautiful, and there’s the first rule.

This can’t be about you. He’s too pretty and magnetic and Golden, and you love him, but if you’re going to keep loving him it can’t be about you.

“We can take Baby.” You mumble. “I- That was nice, though.”

“No problem.” Dean rubs the back of his neck, and you could swear there was a slight redness to his cheeks before he looked away. “I, uh- Yeah. C’mon.”

Dean half carries you to the car, because he’s an amazing idiot who really seems to think that if he takes his hand off your body for a second, you’ll vanish into thin air.

You understand the sentiment. It’s the same reason that, when you stop for gas after a few hours and he tells you to stay in the car, you shake your head and start to open the door.

“What are you-“

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, I told you to stay-“

“You’re not the boss of me.” You mutter, twisting to glare at him when his arm crosses your chest, pinning you to the seat. “I want a shitty gas station donut, Winchester. Let me go.”

He doesn’t move. “I’ll get you one, sweetheart, just stay-“

“Listen to me.” You snap, leaning forward with a scowl. “If you don’t let me out, I am going to break out, stab you, and sit on you while I eat my donut.”

Dean’s eyes widen slightly, and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “Bossy, Princess.”

“Dean Winchester-“

“Chill out,” he drawls your name, his arm moving back and leaving an almost whining depression where he’d been touching you before. “I’m not looking to get stabbed today, you can get your own freakin’ donut.”

You smile at him in triumph, Dean snorts and shakes his head, and you really don’t give a fuck about the donut. You care about Dean, guiding you inside with a hand on your lower back, muttering low jokes in your ear as you wait in the shockingly long line, and grinning at you like there’s nobody else in the world.

Dean plays his music too loud in the car on the drive back, trying to get you to sing along and pouting whenever you refuse.

“You know, this isn’t very nice,” he grumbles after the fifth attempt. “I just came back from the dead, Princess, the least you could do is sing for me.”

You shoot him glare, the Silver whining in your body at the reminder. “The I was dead card isn’t going to work on me, Deano. I don’t think it’s funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” He shrugs. “C’mon. I think I’m making it work.”

“You’re not.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around your stomach, and Dean drops it like that.

You don’t know if he gets it. The toll his death took on you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to ensure he never knows—that’s just another burden you don’t want him to carry—but there are things you can’t keep him from seeing. 

How you get quiet whenever he mentions it, because the numb feeling of nothing, Dean’s gone so there’s nothing, washes back over your body. The fact that you know you don’t look healthy, because even with the Silver humming once more in your body, you still have bruises from malnutrition and rashes on your wrists from where Ketch tied you up. There’s a gaunt quality to your skin that wasn’t there when he last saw you, and you might not be trying to force the Silver down anymore, but the habit of picking your skin raw is too deeply ingrained to go away.

You have gotten better at the healing, over the past four months. But the weakness from being held captive hasn’t faded away, and it means that you’re too tired to do most anything but rest, and talk to Dean.

You can always talk to Dean. 

He’s keeping his voice softer than usual. Almost gentle, as your eyelids start to droop, and his word fade in and out of your head.

“I’m gonna pull over.” He mutters after another few hours. “Check your stitches.”

You hum, and don’t bother to do anything but wait for Dean to park the car and move so he’s kneeling on the grass before you, then let him maneuver your body, so your stomach is under the flashlight in his mouth.

All your effort goes into trying not to moan, when his fingers brush over your skin. Warm and broad and calloused, so careful when they touch you, like you’re something that could possibly be broken.

You don’t care if the Sky sees this. If it hates it, or doesn’t care because Dean’s keeping you safe and alive. 

You’re for Dean. Nothing and no one else. He’s the one who sits you up carefully and presses a kiss to your brow, before making you drink water and settling you upright once more. Dean is the only person in the universe who, when he scoots back into the driver’s seat and slings his arm around your shoulders, you’d ever even consider leaning into.

Sleep comes easy and peaceful, on Dean’s shoulder, the music humming softly in the background and the Silver flowing softly through the world as Dean drives you home.

It’s twilight, when he wakes you up. Everything is cast in deep shades of blue, and the shadows have grown a little longer in the night, but there’s no pain or fear in your body at all.

It’s all still technicolor. 

Dean’s still here.

And you’re curled right into his side, and you can hear his heartbeat, and everything is okay.

“You wanna go right to bed?” He mutters in your ear, and you blink up at him as sleep lingers over your brain.

“Huh?”

Dean huffs a soft laugh, looking at you with an odd gentleness you don’t understand, but are going to cling to for the rest of your life.

“De, I-“ You cut yourself off with a yawn, burrowing yourself a little further into his side because he’s warm and alive and you’re too tired to stop yourself. “What’s happening?”

“We’re back at Bobby’s, Princess.” Dean watches you carefully, his voice still so strongly low and soft. “And Sammy told me they’d wait up, if you wanted, but if you wanna go to bed, we can sleep in your room, or the room I’ve been using. If you, uh, if you want me in the bed, obviously. We can separate and I can take the couch if you want my room-“

You shake your head, moving your hand to press over Dean’s mouth. 

He blinks at you, and you only stare at him through a slight daze.

“Slow down, Deano, you’re talking so fast.” Your voice sounds whiny to your own ears, but Dean doesn’t really look like he cares, and you’re so tired. “‘M tired, I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Dean grabs your hand and slowly lowers it down, his eyes dancing with a soft light. “You’re tired, sweetheart?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder, and he lets out a low chuckle that rolls through your body. 

“Alright, you’re doing bed then.”

You frown against his body. “What’s doing bed mean.”

“Means you’re acting like you’re freakin’ drunk, ba- Princess.” Dean starts to shift you around until you might be in his lap—the world is all blurry color and Dean, so you can’t really tell—and sighs in your ear. “So Sam and Bobby will just have to wait till morning.”

“Sam and Bobby. Where are-” Your words die as you lean back, and Dean’s face is right there. A breath from yours, and pretty, and there’s so much life in his eyes—all beautiful and so focused on you—that you almost burst into tears.

“Wait, shit-“ Dean grabs your face with one hand, the other keeping you steady by your waist, and that’s enough. Your eyes start to sting, and a weak noise leaves your chest as the Silver pours out into the world.

You’re the easy wind outside the car, the gentle comfort of the Impala—warm and filled with love from Dean’s care—and the soft hope of a lightbulb outside, covered in moths and flickering but still holding out to draw something else into its light. 

You’re not Dean, but you’re curled right against him, and when your eyes flick down to your hands they’re covered in gold, and Dean-

“Fuck, Princess, don’t cry- It’s- I didn’t mean to- Oof-“

You tackle your body fully into his, somehow finding force without movement, and Dean’s arms wrap tight around you in half a second as you sob.

“You died.” Your hands fist against his shirt, and there’s too much dizzy, sleepy fog over your brain for you to do anything else but sob and hold onto Dean. “You- you were gone, and you died, and I couldn’t- I tried but I couldn’t- And you- You were in Hell, and I didn’t-“

You cut yourself off with another strangled sound, and Dean’s hand starts to stroke through your hair.

“I know. But I’m good now.” he mutters in your ear, and it’s soothing. Like a lullaby that’s a little more. A promise. “I know, Princess I do, but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you to bed, sweetheart, you’re real tired and it’s- It��s okay.”

Dean pries you off his chest as you continue to sniffle, his thumb presses to the bridge of your nose, and it’s like a spell. 

The Silver eases back into your body, and you’re out. 

When you wake up, sunlight is filtering through the room. Your room.

You’re back in your own room.

It hasn’t really changed. Bobby seems to have cleaned up all your notes from the floor, and the sheets are fresh and changed, but everything else is as you left it, save for a slight coat of dust.

And Dean.

The last time you’d slept in this room, Dean had been at your side, but he’s not here now.

The only thing that keeps the Silver from bursting out of your body and ripping through the world to find him is the Gold. Bright and strong and covering your whole room, imprinted on the mattress and all across your clothing, a soft lining of it on the door knob and over the carpet. 

Dean is alive. The Spiderweb is soft and iridescent in your body, so he’s still alive, and he’d been here because only Dean is Golden like that.

It wasn’t just a cruel nightmare or trick of your mind, that he’d come to get you, and-

Oh, fuck.

You’re not tired now, but god, you had been when you got home, and you’d fallen apart from nothing at all. Fragile and uncontrolled and sobbing into Dean’s arms when he was the one who fucking died.

And he’d held you, but you’d been far too close. If he hadn’t somehow eased you to sleep, you probably mumbled that you loved him, in your exhaustion. And he had so many other things to worry about, all far more important than you. Dean shouldn’t be responsible for soothing you whenever you lose your fucking mind-

But he had. Because he was amazing, and Dean, and has always had you  when you lost your fucking mind.

You love him.

Second rule.

You can’t overindulge yourself.

If Dean volunteers to care for you, you’ll take it because you’ll never have enough will to not. But you can never ask for more, when he already gives so much. If you ask for more and he gives it, that won’t be love. It will be selfishness, and greed, and the monster in you hoarding him like the gold he is because you love him, and nothing should ever touch him again. 

Instead you’ll be his beast. Snarling and marching in front of him and taking whatever scraps he throws to you. If Dean asks to keep sleeping in your bed, there’s no world where you say no. If he wants to carry you around and stitches up your wounds and hug you in his lap, you’ll keep pressing your face to his shoulder and drowning yourself in his Gold until he either shoves you away, or you start to infect him and you have to put yourself down.

Castiel said you’d already infected him. That you’d embedded yourself in him.

He’d seemed fine. There were all those new parts of the Gold, and the way that the rivers of Silver were glowing and secured through his body, but if that was what Castiel had been talking about, Dean didn’t seem to be fighting it or rejecting it from his soul. 

That could be part of the no overindulging. What you’d planted in Dean seems to have grown roots, and there was no taking that back, but it ends there. With the only exception of saving his life, the Silver will never touch him again. Especially with how little control over it you still have.

When you see Castiel again, you’ll have to ask him what he knows about souls. He’s the first other not-person you’ve met who ca see them. 

As your brain starts to fully kick back into its normal gear—devoid of weeks without sleep and months of being plagued by Dean’s voice on the wind—it hits you that you really need to talk to Castiel again. He’s a fucking angel. Angels are real, and one had saved Dean, and all the Hell dreams were real too, which has to mean something, but you don’t know what, and Castiel hadn’t seemed to know what either, but he was an angel, so he has to know something-

One thing at a time. 

Too much is happening, and you’ll get through it—you always do—but you still had to go one thing at a time.

And you’re home.

You shuffle out of the bedroom on silent feet, and you can hear them before you can see them.

“I still don’t know why I have to go to Texas.” Sam’s voice mutters from the kitchen. “You’re the one who made her leave her car there-“

“She’d been bleeding out, Sammy, I wasn’t gonna just let her fucking drive-“

“But-“

“Sam.” Bobby’s voice grunts, and you can hear the exhaustion in it. You can’t really tell if the gnawing feeling in your gut is guilt of relief. “I’m with Dean on this one.”

“Thank you, Bobby-“

“Not cause you made the right call, ya’ idjit.” Bobby snaps, and you can very easily picture Dean’s dejected puppy look. “If you’d used your fuckin’ brain, you wouldn’t have taken off the moment Cas found her, and one of us coulda driven it back behind you.”

“But, uh, I still did the right thing with the stitches and driving-“

“Stop fishin’ for compliments. You’re lucky I don’t shoot you for only callin’ us two hours before you got back.”

“I was busy,” Dean mutters, Sam snorts, and you finally turn into the kitchen. 

Dean sees you first, but Bobby’s close behind, and once they’re both staring at you, Sam follows their gaze with wide eyes.

“Hi.” You mumble, keeping one hand on the doorframe to steady yourself. “I- uh- sorry.”

It’s all you can think of to say.

And it turns out it’s all you need, because the words hang in the air for a fraction of a second before Bobby’s marching across the room and you’re pulled into a long firm hug.

You hug him back without a thought, and his grip tightens. You can almost feel all of Bobby’s anger and stress and relief pressing into your body, and you’ve been a really shitty daughter but he’s still hugging you, and there’s no urge to let go.

It’s the same way he’d hug you when you were a kid. When you’d make the house go haywire, then curl into a corner and cry for hours. The hug that meant, even though you’d made a huge mess for him to clean up, Bobby was just glad you hadn’t killed yourself in the process. 

And you hadn’t.

But when Bobby speaks, his voice is still gruff.

“Don’t ever fuckin’ do that to me again, kiddo.” He mutters, low enough for only you to hear, and he knows you don’t need to hear the rest of the lecture. About how you damn near killed him, and he doesn’t need to lose you and Dean, so next time you should just come home. You can feel it all in his hug, and that’s enough.

“I won’t.” You whisper, squeezing him a little tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bobby pulls back, scanning over you with a tight frown. “You gonna tell us what had you off the face of the damn earth and needin’ stitches?”

You nod, rubbing your wrists as you speak. “I will later.” You lean around Bobby to see Sam still gaping at you from his chair. “Hi, Sam.”

Sam pushes out of his chair without another word, and Bobby barely side-steps him before you’re in another death-gripping hug, Sam almost crushing you into his body.

“Did you get bigger?” You mutter into his chest, and Sam snorts.

“I’ve had a weird seven months.” 

“Ah.” You lean back, and Sam stares down at you, but doesn’t let go. “Same.”

He swallows, and something flashes over his face that you don’t understand. “I, um- I’m sorry I didn’t look for you. Dean was gone, and I knew you’d take it worse than anyone, and you were kind of all I had left of him, so I really should’ve tried harder-“

“Sam.” You offer him a soft smile. “It’s okay. I didn’t make myself an easy person to find.”

He nods, taking a slow step back, and Dean clears his throat.

“Can I have a hug too, Princess?”

You give him a flat look. “I’ve hugged you three times already.”

“Yeah, but I also drove you home, I think that’s earning me another one-“

“I’m not running a hug-based economy, Winchester, they’re fucking free-“

Dean almost crashes into you, and you hadn’t realized how different Dean hugging you really was until you felt them all back-to-back. 

Sam and Bobby had been firm, and almost strangling, but they hadn’t been trying to move you into their body. They hadn’t rested their chin on the top of your head, or moved your face to press into their necks, and you hadn’t tilted your head to try and hear their heartbeats. 

Sam and Bobby had stepped back, after the socially allotted amount of time.

Even after Sam lets out a very loud cough, Dean still squeezes you one last time, and keeps his hand between your shoulder blades as he moves away.

That wasn’t overindulging. Dean had hugged you, and you’d only responded to the pace he’d set. You’d sunken a little further down, down, down into Dean because he’d given you to chance, and you’d curled your fingers at the nape of his neck because the situation called for it.

Still, you have to set another two rules.

Third, you can’t let it show on your face, where Sam and Bobby and anyone else who knows where to look can see. When Dean keeps talking—and he’s right next you, and you love him, and he’s so pretty—you can’t just stare at him with a stupid smile and soft, adoring eyes. It has to be business as usual, no matter what, where you love Dean and it’s kept locked in the Spiderweb.

Fourth, you can’t let it affect work. At all. You have to fucking pay attention as they fill you in on the seals, heaven and Lilith, some guy named Chuck wrote those books, and a girl named Anna who’s now a missing angel.

“Oh, wait, get this.” Sam leans forward, his eyes wide on yours. “Where’s the Blade and your book, there’s-“

You cut Sam off with a long sigh. “I lost them.” 

“You- How?”

“Hunters.” You mutter, twisting the skin on your finger, and Dean’s eyes narrow.

“You got a clue where they are, Princess?”

“Yes.”

Dean opens his mouth to push it, but Sam cuts him off before he gets the chance.

“Well, alright, Dean says you can write in the language too-“

You frown. “What language?”

“Cas and Uriel called it Enochian.” Dean mutters, running his hand over his face. “Angel language.”

“Angel what?”

“You heard him, kiddo.” Bobby shrugs at you, and you must still be clouded with sleep, because there’s no fucking way-

“I speak angel?”

“Yeah, but,” Sam sighs, frowning at the air. “We don’t know why, so if you’ve got something-“

You shake your head. “I’m not an angel, Sam, if that’s where you’re-“

“It’s not. Anna was a secret angel, and that was worked out in a month.” Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s gotten really long, but—and he’ll never get to hear this—it suits him. “It’s just better than nothing, right? Did you find anything new on, you know…”

You huff a soft laugh as Sam trails off. “Yeah, I know. And sort of. It’s- I was sort of visiting a bunch of witches-“

Dean pushed off the counter with wide eyes. “You were what-“

“Calm down, Deano.” You give him a firm look, and he scowls, but shuts his mouth. “None of them hurt me. They all treated me like I was some sort of royalty. It was really fucking weird.”

Dean frowns, opening his mouth to say something that’s likely going to be adorable and unhelpful, but Bobby beats him to the punch.

“They give you anythin’ to go off of? If they were treatin’ you like that, they had to know somethin’-“

You shake your head with a long sigh. “They didn’t have a fucking clue either. One older one, like really old, said the name for what I was is lost, but-“ Your eyes widen. “Fuck.”

“What-“

You shake your head, and Sam cuts himself off as you stare ahead into nothing and rub your wrists, letting your brain turn over the chance. It’s lining up, and it’s less than a gamble and more of a risk, but there’s no fucking way it’s that easy-

Dean says your name in a low, careful voice. “What are you thinking?”

“You remember how I thought the soulweapons were solemn oath weapons? And you told me that solemn oath means soul?” You run your thumb against your palm, and Dean nods. “I thought that was just, you know, whoever wrote it being weird or something. But if it really is a different language-“

“It is.” Sam mumbles, and you sigh. 

“Okay, but that means I’ve been translating in my head for some fucking reason, and what if I’ve been mistranslating other words like that?”

Sam frowns. “Like what?”

“Like you’ve been makin’ them literal.” Bobby grunts, giving you a small smile and nod, and you stand a little taller. “You thinkin’ of another word you need worked out?”

“Yeah.” You swallow. “Are you guys still kind of fighting with Castiel, or is he going to take a, uh, prayer?”

“He’ll take it if we say we’ve got something interesting. He’s nosy.” Dean starts to guide you to the table. “He’s kinda like a cat. Comes and goes. You’ll like him.”

You give Dean a sweet smile, biting down the words that you already met him, and he did seem a little like a cat. It’s not a lie. It’s an omission.

And that’s bad within itself, but at least until you see Castiel again—and he gets real fucking specific about what the angels have been waiting for means—you’ll have to keep omitting. 

Even if Dean pulls out a chair and helps you into your seat, and the Silver twists because there’s still some muss in his hair from sleep, and he’s still touching you, and you love him.

“I can walk myself, you know.” You raise your brows at him, and he shrugs, dropping in the seat between you and Sam.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Princess.”

“We both know you won’t-“

“Sammy, can we have some paper?” Sam passes Dean a sheet from his notebook, and it’s slid in front of you with a pen.

You blink at Dean, and he sighs, grabbing the pen and moving it into your hands.

“Write down what you want Cas to look at.” He mutters, tapping the paper. “So when we call him, we’ve got something to show him.”

“Oh.” You whisper, glancing down to the paper. “Right. Smart.”

You could swear Dean sits a little taller, his face breaking out in an even wider grin, and the rest of breakfast slides by fast. You do some loose, more pointless catchup about the past months—Sam found some new books he can show you, Bobby’s being a butthead and won’t tell you if he’s been dating, and Dean won’t stop reminding Sam that he needs to get moving to Texas soon—and for long, beautiful seconds, it’s hard to remember that you were gone at all.

But there’s evidence. Proof only you can see that you’ve change. That you’ve all changed.

Dean’s soul is still Golden, even if parts of it are to clearly new and molten from being mended, and Bobby’s soul is still green—although a little more worn, which is going to keep eating at your stomach—but Sam is…

Different. 

There’s more red, even when you give him a quick glance. It’s like blood seeping over his softer tissue and bone, and there’s certainly far less blue to his purple than before. It looks a little like an infection. It’s raw and malignant the same way the Darkness was, and the Silver doesn’t like it. It’s still setting off and keening to spread out over you in an almost chemical reaction. To burst and bubble and flow until all the red is gone, because it’s wrong.

You can’t really think of a good way to mention that to Sam. You’ve never told someone that their soul looks infected before. 

A problem for a later.

Because right now, as you finish up with the word—it takes longer than you’d like, but you’ve never tried to write in Enochian, and it takes an odd amount of effort to separate it in your brain—and you take the time to look at their souls fully, you see it.

Bobby’s soul is firm and pact, like the soil of the ground. Unwavering and firm, but not cold like stone. 

But Sam and Dean aren’t anything you’ve ever seen.

You’d noticed it, when Dean found you, but you’d been tired and chalked it up to exhaustion. Yet you’ve slept, and you’re looking with the intent of seeing, and they’re not anything.

Or they’re everything.

You can’t really tell.

But whatever they’re made of, it’s the same. It’s all light and shadow, shifting and turning like a star inside of them, and almost pure looking. Like it’s raw, but still made from something old. 

You can’t stare. If you stare, they’ll ask questions that you don’t have an answer for. Whatever it is, they’ve been made of it their whole lives, so it’s not another change.

And the changes all fit themselves—except for Sam’s, you’re a little worried about him—but they also still fit each other. You can see that too. How Sam’s soul is running with wisps of Bobby’s green, deeper coatings of gold that look a little like stitches over the redness, and a thin layer of silver that’s flowing through and off of him without leaving any scratches. The marks of silver are on Bobby as well, although a little brighter and further into the muscle of his soul, and then Dean-

Embedded.

You’re embedded in Dean. The rivers of silver as refracting with rainbow and have been almost buried in the Gold, and that’s what Castiel meant.

You don’t get to ask him about it when he arrives.

The introduction is quick. Dean says your name, Castiel—Cas is quicker, and suits him a little better—gives you a short nod, and you both stare at each other for a long second as Dean keeps talking. 

“We just need you to take a look at it.” He taps the paper, and Cas’ eyes flick away from yours, down to the paper.

“That is it?”

You nod, glancing down to the words. Word. When you’ve focused on writing it in Enochian, it’s obviously one word, no matter how it keeps shifting off the paper into four. “I, uh, I might have been giving it a literal translation, because nobody ever actually taught me what I was writing. I didn’t even know I was writing in a different language.”

“Enochian is… very old and complex.” Cas mutters, moving to frown down at the paper. “I do recognize this word, but I’m afraid I don’t know what it means.”

Dean frowns. “How can you not know what it means, it’s your freakin’ magic language-“

“Do you know every word in the English dictionary, Dean?” Cas gives him a bored, pointed look, and you have to cover your mouth to hide your giggle.

“No.” He grumbles, shooting you a glare. “And you’re supposed to be on my side, Princess.“

“I am.” You shrug. “But that was funny.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and Cas keeps staring down at the paper.

"There are some things I will have to check before I give you an answer." Cas turns to look at you, his words slow and cautious. "But I warn you, what I find may not be what you wish to hear."

"As long as it's something." You mutter, leaning back in your chair. "I really don't give a fuck what."

It's a few more minutes where Cas lingers in the kitchen, talking about some new seal Lilith is trying to break, and telling you that—wherever he has to look for the direct translation of your word—it may take him a few weeks to do it undetected.

"Won't the angels want us to figure it out?" Sam asks, frowning down at your paper. "I mean, you told Dean that not even you guys really know-"

"None of my siblings within my rank know." Cas corrects, shaking his head. "It is not information that has been deemed necessary. Our only orders are to keep out of it.”

"Then what's got you suddenly all in on helping her?" Dean raises his brows, and Cas shrugs.

"I am... curious. My brothers and sisters are dying, and if this is what I think it may be-“ Cas sighs. “I am willing to bend things. For this alone. And as long as we are careful, and the seal is dealt with-"

"Your big bosses won't be all pissed.” Dean finishes, running a hand over his face. "I dunno, Cas, that douchebag at Chuck's didn't seem too flexible about things."

"Aw." You give Dean a soft, teasing smile before Cas has to respond. "You're worried about him getting in trouble."

Dean scowls. "Yeah, because they'll freakin' smite him or something, Princess. Then maybe try to get you too-"

"They cannot smite her.” Cas shrugs. “They’ve been very clear about that. It would not be effective.” 

You swallow, but Dean relaxes. That opens up a million more questions, but Dean lets out a slow breath and presses his knee further into yours, and you almost say it again. 

And you know that there has to be a last rule. 

It’s most important of all. 

You can never say it aloud. 

It won’t bring Dean anything but more danger. More grief. Everything is only growing more and more complicated, and telling Dean you love him will only be cruel to you both. Telling someone else will force them to keep your secret, and that’s selfish. 

It will have to live in your head. Where only you can hear. Not even the mirror can know, because the Sky might be listening, and you never want it to touch Dean. 

You love him. 

You’re going to have to find a way to tell yourself that in more silence, because it’s not helpful to repeat. You’re aware. It’s a given. You love Dean.

And you don’t know how you convince him to go without you for the seal case. It’s a lot of promises of phone calls and check-ins, plus the fact that Ruby’s going to be there, and Sam is—rightfully—under the impression that you’ll kill the moment you see her.

“She left me at the gas station. She’s the reason I didn’t get to Dean on time.” You hiss to Sam—Dean, Cas, and Bobby wrapping up in the kitchen—and he sighs.

“She got kicked out of her vessel by Lilith.” He mutters your name, and you scoff. 

You don’t believe him. 

More accurately, you don’t believe what Ruby’s told him. 

But it’s still the right call to sit out the seal case. The angels are still hunting you. Cas is likely risking a fair amount by looking into the Enochian, and it’s better not to draw attention while things are still so fragile. You lie low at Bobby’s for a few days while Sam gets the Firebird, and you keep to your rules. Dean sleeps in your bed, but you only hold him when he holds you first. He hovers at your side like your stitches may rip open if you breathe wrong, and you keep your glances at him measured and controlled, your flush under complete control.

When Jo calls you with a case—bunch of deaths at an opera house, sounding like a lich—you agree to it in a second.

It doesn’t matter how the Silver howls at the idea of leaving Dean’s side. It can’t affect work, and you miss Jo, so even as Dean glowers at you when you hang up, you’re going to go on that hunt.

“I can’t just sit here, De.” You mutter before he can even open his mouth. “Cas said it could take a week, and if the angels are looking for me I shouldn’t be doing the seals-“

“You safer here.” He cuts you off with a grunt. “There are wards, and Bobby can watch you-“

“I don’t need watching. And you don’t get to fucking bench me-“

“I’m not- Son of a bitch.” Dean lets out a long breath, leaning forward and holding your gaze. “Just come with us. I really don’t give a shit if you kill Ruby, I’m all for it, but you just got back-“

“Dean.” You sigh, keeping your tone soft. “I’m not leaving. You and Sam will work the seal, and I’ll be with Jo the whole time.”

“But-“

“She asked me to help. I’m going to. And,” you give him a pointed look. “You can’t stop me. You can either go with Sam, or come on this case with me, but you’re not keeping me here.”

“Bossy.” Dean mutters, and you’ve won.

You want to lean forward and kiss him—at least on the cheek as a thanks—but that would be overindulging. 

Sam’s back by that night, and when the morning comes, you split up once more.

“Call me if it goes south.” Dean mutters your name as you stand in front of the Impala, Sam already in the passenger’s seat.

“It won’t. I know what I’m doing, Winchester-“

“Yeah, I know, just-“ He sighs. “You heading out to New York?”

“Boston.” You correct. “Citizen’s Opera House. We’ll be fine, and you guys can join us if you finish first.”

Dean gives a tight nod and, right before he turns to climb into the Impala, he whips around and pulls you right back into a crushing hug.

You hug him back without a thought, and it’s not breaking a rule. He hugged you. 

“Come with us.” He mutters in your ear. “Fuck the angels and Ruby, it’s safer together-“

“Not for this, De.” You force yourself to peel back, giving him a soft, sad smile. “And I’ll be with Jo. She’ll have a gun.”

Dean’s mouth twitches slightly. You’ll take it.

He presses a kiss to your brow before he takes off, and you really are a monster. A dragon. Taking every bit of Gold Dean gives you and only craving more. You can’t let it show on your face, but he’s driving away, and you want him to turn around. 

He looks back. You see him glancing in the rearview mirror, and it’s all you can do to keep the Silver in your body as he vanishes down the road.

He’ll be fine. Sam won’t let him get hurt, won’t let him be taken away from you, even if Ruby’s there. And you did miss Jo—grinning at you from the motel sidewalk as you pull into the parking lot—but this might have been a mistake.

Because more than anyone, you want to tell Jo. 

The biggest point of the case—at least to you—is to mimic some normalcy. Sam and Dean are trying to stop Lilith from something to do with flowers blooming at night, and if you can’t be with them, you can’t just do nothing. And lich are easy—up until the very end—so most of the case can just be you and Jo talking, like nothing in the world is wrong at all.

“It’s like a scavenger hunt.” You tell her over breakfast, flipping through the evidence she’s already found. “It’ll have a bunch of artifacts it’s tethered its lifeforce to, and once we burn all of those, we find the lich and burn it.”

Jo frowns. “Will it be easy to tell? If it’s a magic corpse?”

“It can illusion itself.” You shrug. “But it’ll just be an illusion, so-“ You pause, glancing down at Jo’s eggs. “I’ll tell you later.”

She grimaces. “It’s gonna be real freakin’ gross, isn’t it.”

“I think it’ll be better if I don’t answer that.”

“Great.” Jo sighs, poking at her plate with her fork. “Ya know, I didn’t think Dean was gonna just let you go off alone.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say nothin’-“

“Yeah, but I know where you’re going with it.”

“What?” Jo gives you a mockingly innocent smile. “That you two should save us all and start suckin’ face- Shit!”

You laugh as she barely manages to doge one of your apple slices, aim right at her head. 

“Fuckin’- I just did my hair-“

“Well I warned you.” You stick out your tongue, a wide grin still splitting your face. “I told you to shut up, and you didn’t.”

“You just don’t want to hear the truth-“

“Because it’s not the truth.”

“God, you’re fuckin’ stupid for the smartest person I know.”

You scowl. “Hey-“

Jo cuts you off with raised brows. “How many times Dean called you, since you guys split up?”

You flush, and do the smart and mature thing.

Ignore her.

But it still scratches at your tongue. You want to tell Jo. To lean forward and whisper that you love Dean, like it’s not something complicated. Like you’re just two girls in your twenties, eating greasy diner food and gossiping about crushes and other pointless, normal things.

You’re not, though. The very next thing you do is grab your knife and a set of matches, then get in the car to go kill a magic corpse. 

The first day really is just a scavenger hunt.

“This place is freakin’ fancy,” Jo mutters in your ear, adjusting the black cap on her head, and you hum in agreement.

“Just act like you belong.” You whisper, scanning over the lobby. “We’re new staff. I’m in hair and makeup, you do sound.”

“I don’t know how to do sound-“

“You don’t have to know.” You shrug. “We just need as much backstage access as we can get.”

“Right. Smart.”

You shoot her a grin. “I know.”

Jo scoffs. “Shut up. How are we gonna know what’s one of those life-objects?”

“The normal effort is a lot of cutting your hand and seeing if the object eats your blood-“

“Eats your blood-“

“But.” You raise your brows, and Jo sighs. 

“You’ve got something else, don’t you.”

“Nope.” You give her a wide grin. “You’ve got me. And the life force is just a faded and split form of their souls. So…”

You spread your arms, and Jo just stares at you. “So what?”

“I can see souls, Jo.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right.” She gives you a grimacing smile. “I kinda forgot. Lot been happenin’ this year.”

“Yeah. That’s fair.” You let out a long sigh, rubbing your palm as you scan around the lobby. “Ready?”

Jo nods, and for such a fancy place, it’s shockingly easy to lie your way into a fake job. 

“I didn’t know we had new people.” The small, pretty girl—sitting at the front desk with a bow in her hair—smiles between you and Jo, and you’ve never seen someone’s teeth be so white. “They never tell me anything, though, so don’t worry about it.”

“They didn’t tell us much either,” you give her an innocent nervous smile, glancing back to Jo over your shoulder. “Do you know where we’re supposed to go?”

The girl waves her hand. “Just walk into the stage. If someone yells at you, tell them to actually tell Lacy things instead of just expecting her to deal.” She pauses. “I’m Lacy, by the way.”

“I guessed that.” You glance to the doors. “Just walk inside?”

“Yeah, um, wait-“ Lacy slides two badges across the desk. “Take these, and uh, be careful. We’ve been having a lot of accidents.”

You blink like you have no clue what she’s talking about, passing Jo one of the badges. “Accidents?”

“There’s been a lot of crew deaths, right?” Jo jumps in with a perfect, fake-worried expression. “Is it gonna be affectin’ the jobs?”

She’s gotten really good at this.

You’re proud.

Lacy shakes her head. “No, bosses say it’s business as usual. Just really bad luck.”

Bad luck doesn’t usually end up making corpses look like they’ve been dead five years. 

Lacy doesn’t need to worry about that.

“Jesus fuckin’ Mary.” Jo’s eyes widen as you step into the house, the stage large and shining ahead of you, rows of red velvet seats around you. “Can we actually just work here? For real?”

You snort. “After we kill the undead wizard, sure.” 

“Right.” She gives you a teasing look. “You think Dean would wanna work mechanics, so you can stay together-“

“I’m going to push you off the balcony.” You say in a flat tone, marching up towards the stage, and Jo laughs before running after you.

“That’s fuckin’ rude!”

“I’m not listening!” You call over your shoulder, not bothering to hide your smile, and push yourself up onto the stage. “There’s nothing in here, by the way.”

“What’d you-“

“No souls.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Jo climbs up to your side, frowning around the house. “You know, I can play a mean triangle. Maybe they’d take me. Or- Dean told me you can sing, we can run away with the circus-“

“This is the literal opposite of a circus.” You mutter, turning to scan over the stage. “And Dean’s never heard me sing.”

You’re walking before Jo can push it further, because every single mention of Dean is going to make you want to tell her, and you can’t let this distract you from the job.

Lich cases really are easy, when you know what you’re doing. The first thing you find is a delicate, old hand mirror in a dressing room—crawling and twisting with faded gray tendrils—and Jo throws it against the wall before you can stop her.

“That do it?”

You poke one of the shards with your foot, and let out a long sigh. “Yeah. Somehow it did.”

“Awesome.” Jo grins at you, turning around the room with her gun in hand. “Now we fight?”

“There are going to be like, two or three more you know.”

“Three?” Jo gapes at you, and you snort. 

“Yep. Nothing else in here, though.” You start back towards the door, poking your head out the hall to check for other staff. “Jo?”

She sighs from behind you. “No more smashin’?”

You give her an apologetic look. “It’s kind of loud. And we can’t draw attention, or people will split us up.”

“But it’s fun, and it works-“

“You sound like Dean.”

“From you, I’m takin’ that as a compliment.”

You flush again, but you walked into that one.

You’re walking into most of these. The day passes quickly, and you manage to destroy another two artifacts—a comb and a fountain pen—before the building closes. There are no deaths when you leave for the night, but you really wish a stakeout was a plausible option, because most of the night is filled with Jo teasing about Dean.

Most of the whole next day is filled with teasing about Dean. You find a fancy gun with lifeforce, and Jo says you should give it to Dean. It doesn’t help that you would, if it didn’t need to be destroyed to kill the lich. It’s the exact type of gun Dean would like.

It wears off around the afternoon, though. Every single sweep of a room, you find another artifact, and it’s starting to drive you and Jo up the wall.

“You said three,” she grumbles as you drag another mirror into what you’ve deemed the destruction room. “This is more than three.”

You shrug, stepping back so Jo can smash, because she was right. It does work. “Yeah, well, this asshole must be strong.”

“How are we even gonna know when we’re done?”

“I’ll be able to see it, because all its lifeforce will be back inside its body.”

“So I don’t have to do the gross thing?”

You shake your head. “Once the objects are destroyed, you can’t do the gross thing.”

She frowns at you. “Which was?”

“Touching it.” You sigh, wiping your hands on your pants. “You’ll be able to. You know. Feel the deadness, right now.”

Jo wrinkles her nose. “But after?”

“It’ll make you the deadness.”

“Oh.” Jo blinks. “Fun.”

You hum, and move on to the next sweep. 

It doesn’t take all the artifacts being destroyed to work out who the lich is, though. Jo works it out herself by day three.

“Who even wears a monocle anymore.” You mutter, chucking this one at the wall yourself, and Jo tilts her head.

“I’ve seen an old guy doin’ it. The one who waves his hands, while the orchestra’s rehearsin’.”

You frown. “The conductor?”

“Yeah, him.” She pauses, staring into the air for a long second before speaking with slow, careful words. “That was his dressin’ room. And I ain’t seen that monocle on his face before. You don’t think-“

“If you think.” You shrug. “I’m on board. Be careful of the conductor.”

Jo grins, and you’re really proud of her. She’s got this whole case under control, to the point that she barely even needs you at all. She figures out that—as you keep looking everywhere, finding less and less with each sweep—it’s likely that there’s an instrument you won’t be able to get until the orchestras rehearsing again, and that you’ll have to be ready to fight the moment it goes down.

The lich hasn’t been killing since you showed up, though. It’s probably worked out that you’re not just new staff. Figuring out that it’s the conductor puts you back on even ground.

Jo figuring out that it’s the conductor.

You hadn’t even looked at the name on the dressing room, because Dean had texted you, and you’d gotten distracted.

You let yourself off the hook for that one, though. It wasn’t your love for Dean messing with your focus. It was the fact that he’d been blowing up your phone with how he was gonna fucking shoot Ruby in the face.

“I think you should.” You tell him over the phone that night, and he laughs through the speaker.

“I’m this freakin’ close, Princess. I’m serious. She’s a fucking bitch-“

“Do you want me to tell you not to?” You grin into the night air, leaning against the outside of the diner. “Because that would be lying, De, and lying is a sin-“

He snorts. “You were just telling me about how you spent the whole day committing property damage-“

“Which is a crime. Not a sin.”

“So you’re a criminal?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

“Nah, I wanna hear you admit it-“

“You’re gonna be waiting a long fucking time, Winchester.”

“Alright. I got patience.” You can hear his smile over the phone, and your fingers are still painted in his Gold. It’s going to drive you insane. “Oh, and text me the address of the motel you’re staying at. Me and Sammy are wrapping this up.”

You sigh, ignoring how the Silver start to riot at the very idea of Dean, here, holding you all day and through the night, and why did you suggest splitting up in the first place, you haven’t slept well all week, and all you do is dream of him anyway-

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“I know. But I’m gonna. And if you don’t text me, I’ll make Sammy do his computer magic to track you down.”

You sigh. You know he’s not lying, and that makes all of this harder. “You’re being dramatic again.”

Dean pauses, muttering something you can’t make out, but raising his voice before you can ask what. “C’mon. Do it for Jo, least she’ll be happy to see me-“”

“I’ll be happy to see you, De.” You cut him off with a frown at the air. “But the seal was all the way in Kentucky-“

“And I love driving.”

“I know, but-“

“Please,” Dean mutters, and that’s it.

He wants to. It’s not indulging if he wants to.

“Sam and Dean are coming to help.” You tell Jo as you slide back into the booth, and her grin is shit-eating.

“Aw, he wants to see you,” she hums when you hang up, and you flip her off without a word.

It’s not effective. 

“You guys are so cute, runnin’ around after each other, and callin’ every night-“

“I got shot.” You mutter, tracing your fingers over your stomach. You haven’t tried to fully heal it with the Silver. At this point, it would be pointless anyway. “He calls to make sure I’m not dead.”

“Cause he loves-“

“Jo.” You shoot her a glare over the table, and she scoffs.

“Why don’t you think he loves you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this-“

“I do! He at least wants you!” She sighs, leaning forward and holding your gaze. “You’re supposed to be smart, you know. Whenever people ask me about you, they ask you know the smart girl that-“

Jo cuts herself off with a sudden, strange expression, and you narrow your eyes. “That what.”

“I don’t remember.” She mumbles lamely.

“Joanna-“

“You don’t wanna hear it.”

“Well now I have to-“

“That Dean Winchester’s obsessed with!” She blurts, giving you an apologetic expression, and the whole world stops for a second. 

Obsessed with. And you’re embedded in him. And he’d apologized, on his knees, and put you to bed and let you crawl all over him and had never wanted you to leave-

“You were kinda all he talked about, before you got back.” Jo sighs. “I’m kinda shocked you ain’t together, after all that. I mean, everyone’s seen it, and if they ain’t seen it, they’ve heard about how you damn near died tryin’ to save him, and how he’s always smilin’ more when you’re at the roadhouse with him.”

“Jo.” You whisper, and the Spiderweb feels like it’s crashing down, down, down all while building and pulsing with light. “Please don’t. I- Everything is so complicated, and I-“

You can’t say it aloud.

And Jo only gives you a soft smile, reaching across the table and holding your hand. She’s such a pretty, soft blue, when you look over at her. Smooth and gentle like water, but still running and turning faster than any other soul you’ve ever seen. 

“I know.” She mutters, and you feel a little like a child. “I just need you to know, cause, God, I ain’t gonna be able to handle another year of y’all starin’ at each other like lost puppies. You’re happier together, and he drove to freakin’ Texas for you, then begged you to come home.”

You sigh. “I shouldn’t have told you about that-“

“But ya did. And if a guy did that for me, I’d marry him.”

“I-“

“I’m not sayin’ you marry him now. I’m just saying thinkin’ he don’t at least want you is insane. But,” she leans back, shrugging and giving you a small smile. “We can talk about somethin’ else now. How’d you get shot, anyway?”

You pause, giving Jo a careful look. She’s really just moved on that fast, her brows raised as she takes a bite of her burger, and you let out a long sigh. “You can’t tell Dean.”

“Ooo, it’s a secret-“

“It’s not a secret, I just don’t want him to-“

“Worry?”

You flush, glaring down at your plate. “Shut up.”

“I’m teasin’.” Jo says your name, giving you a firm look. “When have I ever told one of your secrets?”

That’s a fair point. She hasn’t. And the Spiderweb is still raw in your body as the world grows more and more vibrant, so maybe your judgement is clouded, but maybe it’s just Jo. And you sort of trust her more than anyone in the world. 

And you tell her everything. Studying witchcraft, and trying to look for ways to bring back Dean. How ever has been Silver since he died but it’s all still so painful and hard to control, and Ketch and Davis chasing you then holding you captive. The books—you need to ask them how that panned out, actually—and Enochian and the months on the road.

You leave out the Spiderweb and the Sky and Cas’ visit, for the same reason you won’t tell Dean you love him. That’s not their problems. You won’t make things more complicated than they already are.

But you do mention seeing Dean in Hell, mostly because you have to tell someone.

“Like- In Hell?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “And I, uh- I don’t think it was a dream thing. It was really realistic, and I saw-“

“You still don’t want him to know about this, right?”

You frown at her. “Yeah, wh-“

“Cause I can see Dean right now.”

Jo nods over your shoulder, you twist in your booth, and she right.

Dean’s standing at the door, his hands in his pockets as he scans over the diner, and when his eyes land on yours, a wide, bright grin splits his whole face.

You love him.

You’re going to fucking kill him. 

“We’ll finish later,” Jo whispers, and you give her a small nod right as Dean stops at your table. 

He’s so fucking pretty, grinning at you as he drops into at your side without a word, forcing you to scoot back so he doesn’t end up half on your lap, and looping his arm around the back of the booth like this is the most casual thing in the world. 

“What are two girls like you doing in a place like this, huh?”

“Dean.” You keep your voice firm, forcing yourself to ignore how he’s pressed his thigh right to yours without a thought. “You’re supposed to be in Kentucky.”

“Sammy’s got it. Rather be here anyway.” He shrugs like as if it’s nothing, already eyeing your fries because he’s a perfect idiot. “You ladies doin’ like a girls night or something?”

“We’re huntin’.” Jo says, crossing her arms and raising her chin, and you slide your plate over to Dean without a word.

He winks at you before he takes one.

You’re going to explode.

“I heard, kid. You know, extra hands never hurt-“

You snort. “Dean. What do you want.”

“Why do I have to want something.” His eyes flick right to yours, and he’s Golden, and you swallow. “Can’t I just be here-“

“What about Kentucky?” Jo pipes in, and Dean sighs.

“I already said Sam’s got it. What are we hunting?”

“We’re not hunting anything-“

“Lich.” 

You shoot Jo a glare, and she just shrugs. 

“We get to smash things,” she tells Dean, and he raises his brows.

“I can smash things, Princess.”

“Yeah, I know you can, De. Jo, if it’s just the instrument-“

“Then the lich is going to reveal itself.” She gives you a pointed look. “And the more people we have for that, the better.”

“Awesome.” Dean takes another fry, settling somehow further into the booth. Into you. “I’ll tell Sammy to call Bobby when he’s done, and we can gank this lich thingy.”

“Cool. But,” Jo shoots you a grin, and you’re going to kill her. “It’s funny you mentioned it, Dean, but we do have a girl’s night. You agree not to be a big whinin’ bitch about it, you can stay in our motel room.”

Dean pauses, glances over to you in a silent question, and death isn’t a firm enough fate for Jo. You’re going to leave her in a room with Bobby after you ask him about historical figures he thinks were secretly hunters or monsters.

You shouldn’t have trained her so well. It’s coming back to bite you in the fucking ass.

There’s nothing you can do but give Dean a small smile and nod—because he’s asking permission, but you split open the world if it meant not having to go another night without him on the other side of the bed—and mouth I hate you at Jo across the table. 

She only laughs, and you’re not going to kill her.

The rest of the night is going to kill you first.

Because you can’t stop seeing it, now that Jo has said something. Dean doesn’t ever just press into people like this, or offer anyone else fries with raised brows. And he fucking pouts when you say no, then grins when you roll your eyes and snatch the fry from his hand. Whenever Jo’s talking he’s listening, but you can’t stop staring at him from the corner of your eyes, and he glances over at you so often. And he helps you out of the booth, and pays the bill—you’ve never seen him volunteer to pay a bill, not unless he was trying to make a dramatic point—and walks you to your car like you don’t have a fucking knife in your jacket.

The jacket that’s always been yours, but he held onto when he didn’t even know if he’d see you again. And the knife he gave you, because he was worried about you.

His hand stays on your lower back with every step.

This isn’t good. 

Not when you can really never say it aloud.

Dean trails you back to the motel in the Impala, and while Jo had been exaggerating about girl’s night, you do have… rituals. 

There aren’t a lot of other girl hunters. And you love the men you’ve surrounded yourself with, but the one most secure in his masculinity is Rufus, and it’s still not pseudo-sleepover-secure. 

Because that’s a better description for this. Neither you nor Jo got real, stupid, fun sleepovers growing up, so it’s become a habit whenever you have a hunt together. A stupid game, or more stupid series of truth or dare—Dean is a banned truth topic for you, and get the most people to leave the bar is a banned dare topic for Jo after the fire incident—with snacks and a movie and-

“I am not doing a fuckin’ face mask.” Dean snaps at you, and you raise your brows as Jo snickers.

“You said you wouldn’t be a little bitch, Winchester.”

“I said whining bitch-“

“You’re still being a bitch.”

Dean scowls, eyeing the plastic in your hand like it’s a bomb set to go off. “What’s it even going to help with, my skin is fine-“

“Yeah, but it’s not-“ You glance down, having already forgotten which mask you chose. “Poreless.”

“I- I fuckin’ need my pores-“

“It’ll make you pretty, Dean.” Jo calls from her bed, and he flips her off. 

You sigh. “Not helpful, Jo.”

“Sorry, mom.”

Dean snorts, and you whack his arm.

“Whose side are you on, Winchester?”

He shrugs. “Whichever side gets me out of that mask, Princess.” 

“What if I say please?”

“Uh,” Dean sighs. “Maybe.”

“What if I say please,” you pout at him slightly, making your smile impossibly sweet. “And I promise not to stab you when you try to check my stitches later?”

“I wasn’t gonna-“ Dean cuts himself off at your pointed look, running a hand over his face. “Fine. But I get to actually check them, too.”

“Deal.” You lock your pinky with his quickly, shoving the mask into his hands before he can take it back. “Go wash your face.”

Dean doesn’t move. He only stares at you, and Spiderweb might as well be made of the Sun in your body, and your pinkies are still locked. His skin is rough, and warm, and feels right against yours, and he can’t look at you like that, or you’ll-

Jo coughs, and you pull yourself back together. 

“C’mon.” You fold your fingers fully through Dean’s and pull him after you into the motel bathroom. 

You sit on the sink for a better, and it’s a good excuse to touch him, as you smooth out the lines of the mask on his face. Taking more time than you need, with more careful fingers than necessary, because you just want to touch him a little longer. 

“Be honest.” He mutters as you move around his eyes, continuing after you hum an agreement. “I look stupid.”

“That’s not a question, De-“

“So I do look stupid-“

“You look very handsome.” You let your fingers trail down to his cheeks. “Stoic. Debonair and heroesque-“

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

“Everyone looks stupid in a face mask.” You mumble, pressing the sheet onto his brow. “You’re still working it pretty well.”

Dean gives you an odd look. “You’ll look good.”

It’s a good thing you didn’t bother with the full overhead light. Dean doesn’t need to see how your flush is spreading down your neck. “Thanks.”

He just shrugs, and the silence stretches on without tension as you try to focus on the mask, you’re touching him because of the mask, not to trace his sharp jawline and slightly crooked nose-

“Dad would kill me if he saw me now.” Dean chuckles suddenly, and your hands still on his face. 

“Because you’re with me?”

Dean shakes his head. “One of the reasons, yeah. Mostly cause I let Sammy talk me into ditching him for a girl.”

You frown at him. “Sam told you to go?”

“Apparently I was driving him insane.” Dean mutters. “He said he had it, and I should, uh, just freaking go to her.”

“Her?”

“You.”

You swallow, and he’s so close. You’re brushing over his lips as you keep holding his face, and the liquid of his mask is sticky, but you don’t really care. 

“Is my face supposed to be tingling?” He mutters, and pulls a soft giggle from your throat.

“Yep. That means it’s working.”

Dean frowns, but lets you keep touching him. And he does look handsome with the mask. It’s insane, and unfair, and even when you finish up, he doesn’t move away.

Neither of you are trying to move away.

And things are always complicated. They’ve always been complicated, but when he’s gotten the chance, Dean’s always stayed, and you can’t tell him that, but you have to tell him something-

“I’m really glad you’re alive.” You whisper, and he beams at you.

Full and happy and so fucking Dean—handsome and Golden and not yours, but still making the Spiderweb catch light and throw it around your body until you’re a little dizzy—and nothing about this is easy, but it still feels it. Dean is here, so pain is somehow foreign. 

You’re suddenly a little afraid of what you’d do to keep him safe, and away from the Sky, out of the angel’s reach.

“Yeah. I- I’m glad you’re alive, too.” He blinks, frowning into the air. “I mean- I’m glad we’re both alive. Uh, together.”

You smile at him, and in the low light of the bathroom, it’s a little like he has a halo.

You still don’t know what his soul is made of. You don’t really care. 

It’s still Dean all the same.

“All the way down.” You take a careful step back, but you’re cruel to yourself, so you let your hand fall back into his. 

It’s his gravity.

You’re never going to be able to pull away.

And if you could, you’d never able to bring yourself to try.

Because he grins, and says it back with a squeeze of your hand. 

“All the way down.”

And you know. It doesn’t matter what Cas comes back saying you are, or what heaven or hell wants from you. You know what you are. 

Dean’s.

You’ll be damnation or salvation or a whore or a monster for him. You’ll be wrathful god if that’s what it comes to. But you’ll be his.

All the way down.

——————

She’d fallen asleep on Dean’s chest. 

At some point during the movie She started to lean into him, and Dean could never be strong enough to push Her away. When Her eyes had started to flutter shut and Her face had angled in his body, he’d pulled her a little closer. When she’d let out a small, soft sigh, he’d been certain that the world could crumble and collapse around them, but he would just stay right fucking here.

Jo had been giving Dean smug, pointed looks when Her arms had wrapped around his stomach. And when he’d carefully moved his hand to brush a little hair from Her face, he’d kept his words to Jo low.

He didn’t want to wake Her up. Not when She was sleeping this well.

“Don’t say a freakin’ word.”

Jo had let out a soft laugh, her gaze never moving from the chick flick on the TV. “I ain’t said nothin’.”

“If you tell Bobby, he’ll-“

“Like Bobby don’t already know.” Jo had scoffed. “He’s old, not blind and stupid.”

Dean had swallowed—Bobby couldn’t know, nobody really knew—but kept going. “Fine, but if you tell Sam about anything tonight-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep all the girly stuff you did to myself.” 

“Okay-“

“But I am gonna tell him about this.” 

Jo had waved a loose hand to Her and Dean—their bodies now fully curled together, Her breathing even and steady, one of Dean’s hand stroking carefully through Her hair—and Dean’s jaw had clenched.

The only thing that has kept him from yelling at Jo was Her. She’d stirred slightly as he tensed, and he couldn’t disturb Her. 

And, selfishly, he couldn’t ruin this for himself.

This was the part of being Her shadow that he’d always wanted, but never dared to ask for. The part that was softer, and bloodless, and gave Her even more. Where he got to hold Her and touch her like no one else, and She was safe as long as Dean was at her side. The part that could maybe lead to his hands on bare, soft skin, to Dean being allowed to kiss a little more than Her brow when he could get away with it. 

He didn’t know how to earn that. Hell, he hadn’t even earned this. He could never fucking earn it. She’d told him that She was what they hunted, but that was fucking insane because nobody in their right mind could want to hurt Her. It would take more than a monster to grab something rare and beautiful and destroy it, rather than orbit around it and follow it all the way to the edge of the earth, then down. Dean was the one who’d barely become better than a demon, but the very last fucking thing separating him from the black-eyed sons of bitches was that he still had things to defend. 

No matter how Sammy was driving him insane with the Ruby bullshit, Dean still defended him because that was what he did. Sam was still a kid, and he was smart as shit but he could never handle all the blood and guts the same way Dean was crafted for them. It was the same way She fit so well into Dean, but She could never been made for the mud and darkness. Dean was Her shadow to keep as much of that from Her hands as he could. 

She’d chosen to be here, with Dean. To come home and forgive him for things She shouldn’t ever have to know about, and the angels could forget all their fucking plans, because if She told Dean she wanted Lilith to open the seals and to let the world burn, he’d let it fall apart without a single fucking question.

And She wouldn’t do that. She was made of too many good things, and full of too much light to want the world to be ash. It wouldn’t be any place for Her, so Dean wouldn’t let it happen. 

This was the place for Her.

At Dean’s side, where he could watch over Her and silently crave more until She decided he’d earned it. Because it would never matter what Dean had done until She said it was too far, then the last piece of him that Alistair hadn’t carved into would become the very ash he was trying to save Her from.

“You call her Princess, don’t you.” Alistair sneered, and Dean didn’t respond, only staring at the different weapons before him. “Answer me, boy.”

He hadn’t. It was one of the last lines Dean had for himself. He’d rip himself and a million other souls apart, but he’d never let Alistair touch on the fucking idea of Her or Sammy. It was his last apology to them. The last way he had to protect them, when—if they saw him now—he’d beg them to drive Ruby’s knife right into his ribs to save themselves.

His silence always ended with a little extra torment. Dean could live—or die—with that. It was what he deserved.

“I’ve warned ya.” Alistair hissed Her name in his ear after. “She’d got a special spot on my rack, when I drag her down here. I might not be supposed to hurt her, but I ain’t ever cared ‘bout the rules before. Nothing gonna fuckin’ stop me anyway.”

Dean had tensed, and Alistair had laughed in his ear.

“You think you’re gonna save her? That she’d want you to save her? Be your Princess’s shining white knight and sweep her away into the sunset? Here’s a new lesson for you, Dean. Nothin’ can save her, and if I’m bein’ honest, she might be better off down here, with me. I’m not man of god, and maybe,” Alistair’s breath had been hot over Dean’s face as he’d been yanked up by his hair. “That’s exactly what she fuckin’ needs. Maybe she’ll beg me to hurt her. I’ve heard what a little masochist that one is.”

Dean jolted awake in a cold sweat, the sound of Alistair’s laughter still echoing around his skull. It was just another nightmare. She was still right at his side. His hand was touching the bare skin of Her arm, and when he dared to draw small circles with his thumb, She hummed and let out a soft sound Dean would like to hear for the rest of his life. 

Cas needed to hurry up on that translation. The sooner they had better idea of what She was, the sooner Dean could handle those certain nightmares better. 

They’d never go away.

But at least he’d be able to wake up, look at Her, and know nothing would touch Her. That Lilith couldn’t grab Her and use her against them, and the angels might not want Her around, but they could never hurt Her, and She was—as long as he used all the sharper and bloodied parts of himself right—safe at Dean’s side. 

Or across the room from him, or in his car, or holding his hand and pulling him into the fanciest fucking building he’d ever seen. Wherever he could see Her, and orbit around Her. 

Maybe crash down to his knees before Her, because that had worked real well in his favor last time, and there was really no other proper response to Her when she looked like that.

She really was a fucking Princess. This dress was worse than the one last year. Silk, falling over Her body like it was made for Her—most of the world was—and showing Dean too much for him to properly, but still not enough to satiate him, because was a greedy son of a bitch.

He didn’t have a goddamn clue where She’d gotten such fancy outfits on such a short notice, but he knew his tie wasn’t strangling at his throat because She’d carefully adjusted it before they left the motel. Standing only a long breath away, every bit of Her blinding and beautiful as she chewed at Her lower lip, going over the plan one last time.

“There might be multiple instruments.” She’d said, glancing over her shoulder to Jo, who was working on balancing  in her heels. “Once I find what they are, we have to move fast. Smash them, burn them, whatever you need to do. Then the conductor will be in raw form, and if I can see him, I’ll give you the all clear to burn him. Dean, we have to take separate cars-“

Dean had scowled. “No-“

“We’re about to burn a man alive at a public event.” She’d said with a flat voice. “Once we finish, we have to book it. And I am not making Sam take the bus again. Finally,” Her fingers had stilled on Dean’s chest, Her voice dropping to a soft, firm tone. “Don’t let it touch you. It’ll turn you into a puppet corpse.”

Jo had gaped at Her. “A what-“

“Puppet corpse.” She’d sighed. “It’ll kill you then use your body like a puppet.”

“Oh. Gross.”

Dean had cleared his throat. “Can we go back to the car thing-“

“No.” She’d turned on Her heels, tangled Her hand in Dean’s, and pulled him out the door.

And Alistair hadn’t been wrong that Dean wasn’t a white knight, but he was still Her’s. She was brilliant, and as long as it wasn’t putting Her in direct danger, Dean would do whatever the hell She asked. If She needed an army, he’d been a million fucking soldiers. If She needed a guard, he’d turn into a shield.

If She needed him to stand off to the side of a stage while a lady sang in loud, high sounds and She frowned the orchestra, he’d do that. 

He was even allowed to keep his hand on Her lower back. 

“De.” She whispered, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket, and he glanced down to see Her attention fully fixed on the area below them. “It’s the harp.”

Dean followed Her gaze to the instrument. “You sure?”

She nodded, and Jo’s voice crackled in their ears. “Is there only one?”

“Yeah.” She whispered, scanning slowly over the area once more. “But- Shit, there are so many people here, Dean we’ve gotta-“

Dean nodded. “Jo, you’re in the sound booth thing, right?”

“Uh huh. I think I’m actually gettin’ the hang of this, too.” Jo hummed Her name. “Turns out I can do sound. You want me to steal more earpieces before we go?”

A small smile tugged at Her lips, and She gave Dean an amused look as she spoke. “We’ve already stolen three, and we’re about to totally ruin their performance. I think that’s enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jo paused. “Were you tryin’ to talk to me, Dean?”

She giggled, eyes dancing with amusement, and Dean couldn’t really be that annoyed if this was making Her so happy. “Yeah, I’m thinking you can cut all the sound to the audience, we can run out, get it done in the confusion, then get out.”

“That’s good,” She muttered with a nod, and Dean stood a little taller. “Maybe- Jo, can you just amplify the speakers? If you get them loud enough it’ll start a feedback loop, and we’ll get a good-“

“Cover?” Jo finished Her sentence, and Dean could hear the grin in the girl’s voice. “On it. You want a countdown?”

“One second.” She turned to Dean with a firm, determined look. “Go for the harp. I’ll take care of the conductor.”

There was no fucking way Dean was letting Her do the more dangerous thing. That was supposed to be what he was here for-

“And before you argue, if it’s not the conductor, I’ll be able to see who it is. You won’t.”

Son of a bitch, that was a good point. And She had that shining, fluttering look in Her eyes as Dean just glared at Her, the one where she knew She’d already won. “Princess-“

“Please, De.” 

God fucking damnit. “Fine.”

She gave him a wide, sweet smile, and raised Her hand to her ear. “Ready, Jo. Turn it up.”

“Alright.” Jo hummed, and Dean’s fingers started to curl onto the bare skin of Her back. “Three.”

Dean didn’t like this. Something was tight in his gut, and She’d hunted these things before and been just fine alone—with Dean or Jo there to help Her—but this felt wrong-

“Two-“

He muttered Her name, and She gave him a smile, and it was only making him feel sick because something was off about this-

“Go.”

A loud, screeching noise echoed through the theatre, people started shouting as it pierced into their skulls, and Dean had to force himself not to grab Her and hold her to his chest until it all just passed. 

None of this would pass unless he did his job.

Smash the harp. All Dean had to do was smash the fucking harp. Break it into pieces so She could burn this lich asshole.

Dean could break something. He really was good at breaking things, and breaking something for Her might be the easiest job he’d ever had.

He ran into the pit, shoving his way through the orchestra and ignoring people shouts of protest. His ears felt like they were going to fucking bleed, but he’d felt worse, so Dean pushed through it. 

The harp was heavier than Dean had thought it would be, when he reached it.

It still broke easy.

Dean threw his whole body against it, the instrument fell to the floor, and when the first piece of wood snapped off, all hell broke loose. 

People were screaming and running around—that had been a given, the rich idiots probably thought they were under attack—but over all of it, Dean could hear Her, shouting his name.

He turned right in time to see the conductor running right towards him, hands outstretched, and fuck-

Dean dodged as She screamed, and started to fumble in his pockets for his lighter, where was his fucking lighter, he was tripping over abandoned trumpets and seats as the conductor continued to swing at him, and where the fuck was his lighter-

There was another scream of his name, and Dean looked up to see the conductor only fucking inches away, and that couldn’t be good, but right before slightly shriveled hands closed around Dean’s face, the man stumbled back and screeched.

Loud, and echoing through the theater, his whole body writhing, seeming to flicker and wither and-

“Son of a bitch.” Dean muttered as the lich’s illusion fully faded, his body a sticky, browned and boned corpse. “You’re one ugly asshole.”

The lich only screeched again, and as it fell to its knees, Dean looked up to find Her standing on the edge of the stage.

Dean had only seen Her use her thing once, when Lilith had attacked them. And that had only been a primal, feral scream ripping through Her body as Lilith released him with a cruel laugh.

This was different. 

There was no proper way to describe it, but She didn’t look like a human. Or a monster. Or a demon, or angel, or witch.

She looked like Her, turned up to a goddamn million. Everything closer to Her body was more colorful. Her hair was impossibly shinier, and Her skin seemed to be glowing, and Her eyes were fucking bright. 

Her pupils weren’t black anymore. They were silver. 

Dean had never seen anything more terrifyingly beautiful in his life. And when the lich turned to slime at their feet—sinking back into the floor and vanishing like there had never been anything at all—whatever had been amplifying Her seemed to collect back into Her body, her eyes focused right on Dean’s.

He almost fell to his knees again. This was the siren or goddess he’d been silently worshipping since he met Her. This was the royal, ethereal woman he wanted to serve for the rest of with worthless life. And it was just Her, but it was all of Her, and Dean wanted fucking all of Her-

He didn’t see it until it was too late. 

The woman behind Her. 

Not a woman. The illusion of a small young woman—white-teethed with a bow in her hair—vanished the moment the lich grabbed Her around the wrist.

There were two. 

There were fucking two, and Dean wasn’t goddamn fast enough.

The only reason he could hear his roar over the blood in his ears was because it echoed around the theater. And She wasn’t even fucking fighting the thing, She’d gone slack and pale, and Dean was sprinting over the abandoned instruments to get to Her, yanking his gun from his jacket and aiming it right at the ugly bitch’s fucking face.

The shots didn’t kill it, but the lich released Her and stumbled back, falling right on the floor as Jo sprinted out from the backstage.

Jo’s lighter dropped, and the lich died with a scream.

But the fire didn’t slow or die. It only spread across the stage, and Dean was going to have to add arson to his rap sheet again, but he really didn’t fucking care.

All that mattered was Her, pallid and backed into the wall, rubbing at her wrists like she’d been branded.

Dean wasn’t sure if the whole corpse puppet thing was contagious.

That was another thing he really didn’t fucking care about.

“Hey,” Dean muttered Her name as he grabbed her face between his hands, forcing Her slightly glazed eyes onto his. “You’re gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay-“

“It touched me.” She cut him off with a whisper, and Dean’s grip tightened. “Dean, it touched me-“

“I know.” He grunted. “I know, Princess, but it’s- we’ll fix it.”

She shook Her head, still scratching at Her wrists and Dean did the only thing he could think of. He stroked his thumb down the bridge of Her nose until her breathing was relaxed, and she’d slumped forward into his arms.

“Dean?” Jo called from behind them. “I- uh, we should go before the building burns down.”

Dean nodded an acknowledgment, but She wouldn’t be able to run. She was too pale, shaking in his arms and starting to draw blood with Her nails- 

He knocked Her hand away, She made a whining noise, and this was not allowed to be it. He was not fucking losing Her like this, he’d call another fucking demon deal or trap a million fucking angels until they performed a miracle, or-

Cas. He needed to call Cas. 

But first, he had to get Her out before the building killed all three of them. 

Dean pressed a quick kiss to Her brow, and hauled Her up bridal-style into his arms, and the moment Jo was at his side he was moving. Out the back into the cold air of an alley, down the streets until they were at the Impala and the Firebird. 

“Here’s the plan.” He grunted, raising up to face a pale-faced Jo on the sidewalk. “You’re taking her car. Drive for forty minutes west, then stop at the first motel you see. Call Sam on the drive, tell him what happened.”

Jo nodded, catching Her keys with shaking hands. “What about- Dean, I’m- We thought there was one-“

“Jo.” He snapped. “Just fucking go.”

“Is she gonna be okay-“

“Yes. Go.”

Dean’s short, firm words got Jo to move, but he didn’t have a fucking clue if She was going to be okay. She wasn’t turning into a corpse, but She was still colorless and silent, and Dean was praying to Cas the whole fucking ride but they didn’t have a goddamn timeline on this, it might already be over-

It couldn’t be over. Dean had only just gotten Her back, and he’d meant it.

He wasn’t losing Her.

She’d know how to fix this. She knew everything, and She was a genius, so if Dean could get Her to speak, he’d do whatever she said needed to be done to fix this.

Jo met them right where she was supposed to, and Dean gave short orders for her to just keep fucking praying to Cas until he showed up. 

“C’mon.” He muttered Her name, moving her to the edge of the bed and kneeling down, keeping his thumb running down her nose and scanning over Her slack face. “I need you to talk to me, I don’t have a fucking clue how to do this, Princess, I- I fucking need you, c’mon-“

Something was wrapping around Dean’s lungs. He wouldn’t fucking lose Her. Not like this. It was all his head could loop around because fuck, this would kill Jo, and he’d never be able to look at Bobby again, and he would’ve gotten Her back for barely a week just to prove Alistair right.

She was better anywhere without Dean. He’d do anything for Her, but anything wasn’t enough, and She’d survived all those months without him, but the moment he’d gotten back he’d killed Her, he’d fucking broken the one that had always seemed permanent, and he was a vile piece of shit from lower than the mud, and Dad should’ve killed him. Instead of threatening and hurting Her, Dad should’ve pressed a barrel to Dean’s head and shot him. It would’ve saved everyone a whole lot of grief if Dad had gotten some fucking clarity and killed Dean instead, or just let him die in that goddamn hospital-

“Dean.” She whispered, blinding eyes finally focusing on his. “You need to go.”

He stared at Her. “What.”

“Before it hits. I- I can’t feel it, but once it kicks in-“

“You’re going to be fine.” He snapped. This wasn’t a conversation he was going to have, because it wouldn’t matter when She was fine, and they were driving back to Bobby’s like nothing had happened at all. “Cas is coming, and I’ll grab whatever we need to slow this down-“

“There’s no slowing it down.” She gave him a small smile, and Dean’s heart might be trying to claw its way out of his throat. “It’ll be better to burn me. So nothing finds my body.”

“Shut up.” He grunted, his hands tightening on Her thighs. She wasn’t moving away, and maybe if he held tight enough, that would keep Her together. “We’ll fix this, there’s always a way to fix this-“

“Not here, De. I- I’m-“ She started to rub Her wrists, letting out a slow breath. “I could do it myself, but I can’t even feel it, I’d have to feel it to know what to fix-“

“Then maybe you’re fine-“

“I don’t want to risk it.” She mumbled. “Please go.”

“No.”

“Dean-“

“I’m staying right fucking here.” He hissed, rising up on his knees to look Her in the eyes. “And that’s it. You try to kick me out and I’ll come right back in, Princess, I did not spend so goddamn long waiting for you only to lose you-“

“You can’t lose me.” She whispered. “You’ve never been able to lose me. I-“ 

She swallowed, Her eyes starting to go glossy, and Dean wouldn’t let the sting in his own take over. There was nothing to mourn about, because She was going to be fine-

“I’m here.” She pressed Her hand to his chest, and he wasn’t breathing. “All the way down.”

Dean stared at Her. 

He didn’t have enough words for Her beauty. He never had. He’d never been good at words, or saying the right thing, or knowing when to stop or how to keep something. And he’d let the world use him and beat him however it wanted—crawl right back onto Alistair’s rack or pick up only torture instrument until he was a demon—if he got to break that last pattern. Dean could replace words with actions, replace saying the right thing with doing the right thing, and replace knowing when to stop with going until his soul gave out. 

He couldn’t replace Her. Keeping Her was the only option, if She’d have him.

But losing Her to something other than Her own will was simply not on the goddamn table.

Dean had prayed before. Since the angels had showed up, he’d been praying to Cas a lot. 

But he’d never prayed to God. 

And it was all he could do now. This wouldn’t be it. Nothing holy or good owed Dean any favors, but the fucking universe owed Her. It couldn’t let Her go, because She was too good for all of it, and Dean needed Her.

She was the universe. She was bigger and brighter than God, and wherever the hell that asshole was—if he was even real at all—he better be fucking listening because Dean needed Her, and maybe She was God and he just needed to pray and worship Her instead.

The thought moved through Dean’s whole body. He needed to tend to Her. That was what he could see. What he could know. What he’d always known. 

He rose slowly, never breaking Her gaze. Giving Her time to move away as he inched closer, cupping one hand on Her face and bracing the other on the mattress, stopping where if he spoke, Dean’s lips would brush Her’s.

There was no mistaking what he was daring to attempt. No way for Her to miss it, and be caught off guard. A long, strained moment where Dean gave Her the chance to shove him away and curse his name back to Hell, and at least then he’d know. That he’d always be in Her orbit, but to Her, Dean was just another thing, trying to sit in Her light. 

But She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were wide on his, yet She wasn’t looking away. Her fingers were curled on his shirt, and Her breath was heavy from her nostrils.

He licked his lips because he couldn’t fucking help himself, and She flushed, Her breath hitching, and Her mouth falling slightly open.

There it was.

Dean crashed down, and kissed Her.

And he’d never been good with words.

But this didn’t need any.

It was all movement and feeling. Her lips fit even better against Dean’s than he’d ever been able to imagine, and every single bit of desperation he threw into Her, she threw right fucking back. Dean bit at Her lower lip and She moaned, right down his fucking throat as She opened further for him, but when Dean got to press his tongue into Her mouth and have more, She pulled it between Her teeth and swallowed Dean’s groan with the best sound he’d ever fucking heard escaping from her throat. 

She tasted like coffee and sugar and that fucking fruit, Dean could taste the fruit and he was going to get addicted, but there were worse fucking vices to have. At least this one had Her wrapping an arm around his neck and tugging at his shirt to get him closer, She wanted Dean closer and he’d have to be fucking insane to deny Her.

When he pushed deeper, moving Her down to lie flat on Her back and never fucking breaking the kiss, She let him. She let Dean have fucking all of it. He got to overtake Her quickly, and She was responding to all his silents pleas for more and shivering under his touch when he grabbed Her waist and trailed his fingers down, down, down, to the bare skin of Her thighs-

“Dean.” She gasped against him, arching slightly off the mattress, and if God didn’t take his prayer, Dean would put all his torture skills to some good fucking use until the son of a bitch promised to never let anything hurt Her again. 

Until then he’d keep Her caged safely between the mattress and his body, devouring every single sound he was learning so fast to pull from Her body with only his mouth. They were all somehow better than last, and Dean had never felt this fucking high from just a kiss-

A foreign noise breached through Dean’s skull, and he sat up in half a second, pulling Her with him and burying Her tight into his chest. Anything that wasn’t Her or Dean was a fucking threat and-

It was Jo. When Dean twisted around with a deadly glower it was just Jo, and maybe he’d gotten a little too intense about that. 

But She was still in danger. The lich had still touched Her.

“Dean." She shoved at his chest, Her words muffled in his body, and he loosened his grip until She could twist against him.

But She stayed against him. Small victories.

“How, uh-“ She swallowed, and Dean glanced down to see Her rubbing at her wrists. “How long have you been there?”

“Few minutes.” Jo mumbled, staring at the floor, and Dean realized the girl’s whole face was red. “I’m sorry, I just- I didn’t stop it cause I was happy for you, but then I realized it was just gonna keep goin’, and, uh, sorry-“

“Jo.” Dean muttered. “What-“

“Cas is here.” Jo gave Dean a nervous look. “I prayed to him.” 

Dean sat a little taller. She would be fine. “Tell him to get his angel-ass in here and fix her-“

“There is nothing to fix.” Cas was very suddenly in the room, and Jo squeaked in surprise.

“Fuckin’ Christ-“

“My apologies.” Cas said with a small, grimacing frown. “You told me to wait until I was summoned, and Dean did just say to get my ass in here. My ass can’t be here without the rest of me, so-“

“Cas.” Dean gave him a flat look. “Focus. What’d you mean there’s nothing to fix-“

Cas said Her name slowly. “She is in perfect health.”

She frowned. “But the lich-“

“You are not in danger of any lich infection.” Cas shrugged. “It is not possible for your kind to succumb to any sort of preternatural disease, curse, or weapon. At most you will have felt a little sick, but it will have already passed.”

“My-“ She cut Herself off, setting up tall and straight, and Dean caught it. 

What Cas had implied. .

“My kind?” She whispered, Her eyes wide. “Did you- You figured out what I am?”

Cas sighed, and nodded. “I cannot offer a full explanation- The word you gave me is ancient. Uncommon. I would not call it taboo, but it is mostly lost with purpose.”

Dean frowned. “You mean on purpose?”

“No, Dean. With purpose. It has been deemed better for mortals to know as little as possible. Even we are not fully able to comprehend it.”

“Cas.” She muttered, rubbing Her thumb over her palm. “Please just say it.”

Cas let out a long breath. “You are the Magdalene.” He said Her name, watching her carefully as he continued. “They are the oldest and rarest breed of witch, although witch is a… crude term. You are made of the magic witches learn to harness.”

She swallowed, Her voice impossibly soft. “I- I’m a Magdalene.”

“No. You are the Magdalene.”

“Cas.” Dean grunted. “What the hell are you talking about.”

Cas sighed, still not moving from his place beside a wide-eyed Jo. “There is nothing in heaven’s record or knowledge about where Magdalene’s come from. They simply… are. Impossibly rare, and powerful. Dangerous. There is maybe one born every five hundred years, with the rare exception of two existing at once around the end of what your historians call the Common Era.” Cas said Her name again, and Dean was a little worried She wasn’t breathing. “You are the most powerful one recorded.”

“Oh.” She mumbled. “Cool. I- Doesn’t that probably mean whatever, um, Magdalene comes after me will be more powerful?”

Cas shook his head. “Heaven has monitored Magdalene’s since Lilith-“

Dean went rigid. “Lilith? What the hell does that bitch have to do with-“

“She’s a Magdalene, isn’t she.” Her words were still soft, Her attention still trained on Cas. “She said she was like me. That I was her descendent.”

Cas gave Her a grimacing, apologetic nod. “It is a biological trait, yes. There are complexities to it I do not think you’ll care to understand, but before Lilith was a demon, she was the first Magdalene. She had daughters, and they had daughters, and-“

“It led to me.” She muttered, and Cas nodded.

“The birth of a Magdalene has always heralded danger. Change. Lilith brought on demons, Avva, a goat-keeper in Sumar, brought on writing and calendars, and a consort in ancient China name Fu Hau introduced witchcraft to non-natural born-“

Dean sighed. “Man, we’re not here for a history lesson-“

“I am getting to my point, Dean.” Cas’ voice remained flat, his attention returning to Her. “The most powerful Magdalene’s before you were Cleopatra VII Thea Philopato, who brought about the Roman Empire, and Mary-“

“Magdalene.” She finished, Her eyes widening. “Is it- If it’s that old, how can it be named after her?”

“It isn’t.” Cas shrugged. “Magdala was the home of Lilith, as a human. It is simply what you would call coincidence.”

“Cas.” Dean grunted. “The point.”

Cas sighed. “Mary brought on the invention of the human religion, Christianity, which has been… impactful. Both her soul, and that of Cleopatra’s, had a sliver of the Magdalene power.”

Jo frowned, her voice small as she jumped in. “A sliver? How much is in a sliver?”

“My best estimate would be 2.159%.” Cas said. “Although I do not think Dean would want a math lesson on top of my history.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and She let out a soft laugh, even as Her nails started to dig into Dean’s skin.

Better than it being Her own.

“Cas?” She said carefully, and they were already looking at each other like there was a silent conversation Dean and Jo weren’t allowed to be a part of. 

Cas said Her name, bowing his head slightly, and She swallowed.

“How much of my soul is… Magdalene.”

“Half.” Cas muttered, giving Her an apologetic look, and She was going to draw blood. “And from what I have found, that should not be possible.”

“Oh.” She was almost fully curling into Dean’s body. He chanced one arm snaking around Her side, and She held it there.

Small, horrible victories. 

“It is likely why you were able to walk into Hell.” Cas said, looking only at Her, and Dean froze.

“What’d you mean, walk into Hell.” He hissed, looking between Her and Cas. “You’ve never been to Hell, Princess, and nobody just walks in-“

“I- I know, De, just-“ She shot Cas a glare. “You have horrible timing.”

Cas frowned. “I will- is that something to improve?”

“Yes. We’ll talk about it later.” She sighed, giving Dean a careful, soft expression that made something in him balk.

She couldn’t have walked into Hell. Something would’ve grabbed Her, Alistair would’ve known and seen Her and hurt Her, and Dean felt like a million fucking bricks were being pressed down onto his chest. 

“I sort of,” She took a deep, long breath, and whatever it was, Dean kind of didn’t want to hear it. “Could see you, sometimes. In Hell.”

“See me.” He grunted, and She nodded. “When.”

“Every night.” She whispered. “I was- I saw Cas saving you. That’s how he knows.”

She wasn’t lying. 

And there wasn’t a place low enough for Dean in the universe. She’d seen everything. And he’d be able to just beat himself and ignore the bruises if it hands only been his torture, but She’d seen parts of what he’d done. The souls he’d ripped and broken, and there had to be something worse than Hell, for things like Dean. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, and She wasn’t pulling away. 

Dean didn’t know why She wasn’t pulling away. This was the reason. More than an out, a neon sign begging Her to take the exit door, yet She was still here.

He’d never understand Her. She wasn’t caving under any of this, just looking back to Cas and staying pressed to Dean, and She knew, She’s known, how has She known and not fucking left-

“What now?” She asked, and Dean had to focus.

It wasn’t about him, now. If he was going to keep doing the shadow thing right, it was about Her.

“You will need to be careful.” Cas said slowly. “There is more, that I was not able to access, and once it is known that you have reunited with the Winchester’s, precautions may be taken.”

“What-“

“I am not able to say, but mostly because I do not know. I have already lingered too long. Jo. Dean,” Cas gave them both nods, then said Her name with the same movement. “We will talk later.”

She blinked, something flashing over Her face that Dean didn’t understand, and Cas vanished. 

None of them spoke. There was nothing to say. Too much had changed from the morning, and it was all so fucking complicated, and God, Dean really fucking hated that word.

But She was still in Dean’s arms. A hand over his on Her stomach, that fucking fruit smell invading his sense as She leaned slightly further into his body. Into Dean.

So as long as he could manage, Dean wasn’t going to let Her go.

End Note: The emotional whiplash Dean just went through... someone get him like a blanket or something. (Also 300k words to kiss. They're insane)

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[tuiccim]

We're Gonna Burn (Part 4-Final)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most. Now, dealing with the aftermath makes you question everything.

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

As fate would have it, you get notification of a mission briefing the next morning. You are slightly relieved when you see this one involves the full team. Your emotions from the day before had kept you awake most of the night and you were glad you had another therapy session planned in a few days. You needed to process everything that had happened last night. Especially that almost kiss. It had disturbed the calm you felt. You had gone from hating the man to nearly kissing him in the space of an hour. You tried to shake it off as merely a reaction to all of the emotions but you knew you were fooling yourself in part. You had been attracted to him in the beginning, but it had faded with his surly attitude. It was as if the vulnerability he had shown had brought all of that back in force and you were glad that this mission was with everyone. Some time with the team and space where Bucky is present but not the center of your attention may help you sort some of these feelings.

But fate always had a sense of humor when it came to you. As soon as the plan had been gone over in the briefing, you were paired up with Bucky for your part of it. You cursed silently but returned his nod of acknowledgement. You should have guessed this would happen. Your skills complemented Bucky’s in a way that would make tactical sense to put the two of you together and they had begun to pair you off more in the weeks before the cabin incident. You calm yourself, Bucky was a professional and you were as well. You can put your emotions aside and handle anything that comes your way. You weren’t leaving until the next day so you had time to prepare yourself. When the meeting concluded, you gathered your things and made for the door but stopped short when Bucky called your name. It seemed like time froze for you and that everyone still in the room eyed you both discreetly. Your aversion to each other was well known and they were used to seeing fireworks between the two of you. They all moved in slow motion as you made your way back to Bucky.

“What’s up?” You ask.

“Uh,” Bucky glares at the others moving slowly until they all tuck tail and skulk off. When you were alone, he said,”I wanted to say thank you again for last night. I’m glad we were able to clear the air between us.”

“Me, too. Was Alpine angry about her delayed dinner?" You attempted to keep the mood light. 

"Furious. She started knocking everything off the counter until her food was delivered," Bucky shakes his head. 

"Oh, so she really does wear the pants in your household?" You laugh. 

"Absolutely, I just wear the apron," Bucky laughs with a shrug. 

You chuckle with him but, unbidden, an image of him in just an apron popped into your mind. With a quirk of your eyebrow, you say, “I see.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow, “Uh-huh. Alpine took a liking to you. You should come back and visit her sometime.”

Your mouth goes dry at the inference he was making. You manage to choke out some sass, “She probably enjoyed having some feminine energy around. Uh, anyway, I gotta go. See you tomorrow… Bucky.” You scurried away quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed the awkward pause before saying his name. You were fine. You were just fine, you reassured yourself. The energy shift between the two of you was giving you a multitude of ambivalent feelings. Maybe you were reading too much into it. It was all the emotions surrounding what happened. You had to calm down. Taking a deep breath, you recognize the feelings coursing through you and allow yourself to feel them. You and Bucky had finally found common ground. You’re happy about that but it brought on some confusion as well. Was Bucky trying to build a friendship? Part of you was happy at that thought but other parts felt fear that this only a short reprieve and you will find yourselves at odds again. Would the feelings brought on from the experience fade and you'd end up back where you were? Were you reading too much into this? What if you had misinterpreted that almost kiss?

Stop this! You check yourself. While the almost kiss may have been misinterpreted, his reports and reviews couldn’t be. He had learned a grudging respect for you before you cleared the air. So, while you may be overthinking the situation, you didn’t really believe things would go back to the way they were. 

Was Bucky attracted to you? That’s the thing that was throwing you off so much. You had always thought he was but was he feeling this only because of what happened in that cabin? Or was he feeling that at all? You wanted to bang your head into a wall to silence the thoughts running through your mind. Instead, you settled into a chair and reviewed the mission briefing again and again. You committed that map to memory, checked through the profile of known combatants and any skills they possess. You make notes and work through any tactical possibilities. You review the plans for infiltration and make a list of what you wanted in your tool belt. It helps you pull yourself together. 

When the time to load up came the next day, you were able to compartmentalize to allow yourself to be in the right state of mind for a mission. You boarded the quinjet to find Bucky already there. Sitting beside him, you pulled out your tablet and motioned to the map included in the file, “Hey. Can I ask your opinion on this?”

“Yeah. Whatcha got?”  He leans close to see the tablet. 

“The tactical plan has us coming from this angle and entering here,” you indicate the proposed entry point. 

“Right,” Bucky nods. 

“What do you think of coming this way and entering here next to what looks to be a utility room? We can lay a charge on the gas line there before making way to the original entry point for secondaries. The gas line will give us more bang for the buck and it keeps us from having to double back.” You watch his expression as he studies the map and thinks over your proposal. 

“Yeah, that makes sense. We just have to watch for any patrols coming through here or here,” he points. 

“If they’re following the timings that surveillance has seen, we should be good. But there is always that saying about best laid plans,” you murmur the last parts. 

“After last time, that’s an understatement,” Bucky shakes his head.

“Of the century,” you agree with a scoff. 

“Are you okay doing this so soon?” he whispers. 

“Honestly, getting back out and the chance to kick ass is the best therapy I can think of,” you whisper back. 

“Damn right. I knew I liked you,” Bucky grins. 

“Took you long enough,” you quip. 

“I can make the time up,” he winks. 

He’s flirting, your brain screams at you as alarm bells ring. You weren’t sure how to feel but you need to get the focus back on the mission, “Ass kicking first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sasses playfully. 

You hold yourself back from saying something- ah, fuck it. You give him a smirk, “good boy.”

The look that crosses his face is priceless. You keep your face impassive as you look over the map again. You could have kissed the pilot for calling you over just then. It allowed you to separate from Bucky without losing the upper hand you had just established. 

The mission wasn’t as easy as you had anticipated. It was fine. The plan went well with only a little bit of improvisation needed but it was difficult for you. You had a harder time compartmentalizing than you normally did. At one point Bucky had pulled you into a closet to miss a patrol and standing close to him with his hand on your waist made it hard to hold on to your professionalism. You were fairly certain he felt the same, if his breathing was any indication. It caused you to have a moment of panic. Would you ever be able to work with him again without feeling like this? You were hyper-aware and tied up in knots over your ambivalent reaction. You were never sure if you were excited or terrified by the contact. You try to convince yourself it would lessen in time. It was just the emotions. Eventually, it would become old hat again. This flirtatious side of Bucky was new and different and enjoyable. Even if the darker side of your brain warned that he was just playing games. If he bagged you for real and not as the result of a pollen induced fever, he’d be able to lord it over you. You silence it quickly but the acrid taste of fear lingers in your mouth. 

You stayed busy for most of the ride back by resetting equipment, updating files, filling out your report, and any other activity you could think of. When there was nothing left for you to distract yourself with, you make your way to where the rest of the team sat. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Bucky brighten at your presence and motion to the open seat beside him. Like a magnet, you were drawn to him without a second thought and sat. 

“Did you finish everything?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” you nod. It felt like he was acutely aware of your avoidance.

“How was it being back out?” He offers you the bag of chips he is munching on. 

“No, thanks. Not bad,” you demure, “You?”

“Not as cathartic as I hoped,” he says quietly. 

“What?” You are shocked at his comment. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. 

“No, I feel the same. It was… I don’t know. Tenser, somehow,” you look at him nervously.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says pensively. 

“What’s that thought?”

“I hesitated,” he says quietly. 

“When?” You ask, thinking back. 

“During the op.”

“You never missed a beat,” you object. 

“When I pulled you into the closet, I hesitated. I think part of me was scared you’d flinch but then I didn’t have a choice. I had to get us hidden.”

“Did I flinch?” You ask with a small smile. 

“No, but your breathing changed,” he looks at you curiously. 

“So did yours.”

“Yeah?”

”Yeah, I think we’re, I mean, I know I’m still a little reactionary to being touched. I’m still finding it a little… I don’t know the word. Charged, maybe?” You attempt to explain.

“Fraught?” He supplies. 

“Yes! Thank you. That’s a very good word for it.”

“Because it’s me or…?” He trails off but the question is clear.

You take a few seconds to compose a reply knowing your relationship hangs in the balance. “Touch in general is still a little difficult for me. I can’t feel it without flashes of- what happened. Of the loss of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky’s voice sounds thick.

“It wasn’t your fault, Bucky. You don’t deserve any blame for what happened. But, there is another part of this situation that disconcerts me. This complete one-eighty with us. We went from hating each other, to that, to whatever this is.”

“The start of a friendship?” Bucky says, his face full of hope. 

“Is that what you want?”

“I thought that’s what we both want. After our talk, I thought we were going to build a better relationship to make us better teammates.”

“I wanted to build some mutual respect but that doesn’t require us to be friends,” you say nervously, “So, why? Why do you want to be friends all of a sudden?” You were pushing him, partly to see if his current demeanor was a facade that would fall but mostly because you were scared that none of this was real. You had one view of Bucky for so long and your suspicions of his motives for this new leaf remained. 

“It’s not all of a sudden. I’ve been wanting to for a while. I just didn’t know how to go about it. Anytime I approach you, you get uptight and defensive, rightfully so from my past behaviour, and I didn’t think you’d give me a chance. And then, after what happened, I didn't think you’d ever want to be in the same room with me but then we talked and… when you touched my cheek, it gave me hope that I could turn this around. I understand why you’re apprehensive. I've been a complete jerk to you and you have every right to hate me. But, if you’ll give me a shot, I’d like to be friends.”

It touched your heart. You wanted to lean in, to kiss him, and that terrified you in another way. Fear started to well up in you and you pushed it down. You had control over this situation and you would handle it. “Okay,” you say quietly. 

“Okay?” Bucky asks. 

“Okay, we can give it a shot,” you give a small smile. 

“Okay. That’s, yeah, that’s great. Uh, what are your plans after we get back?” Bucky asks, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. 

“I don’t,” you shake your head, “I don’t have any. Probably just find some food and veg out in front of the tv.”

“Would you like to come visit Alpine? We could order a pizza and watch a movie or something.”

You pause, licking your lips as you consider, “Uh-”

“You can pick the movie,” Bucky sweetens the deal.

A smile slowly spreads across your face, “Yeah, okay.”

A few hours later you were comfortably lounging on Bucky's couch with Alpine happily purring in your lap. Bucky sat on the opposite end watching the goofy movie you had chosen. When it ended, you talked for a while and then left. There was little awkwardness and you appreciated Bucky respecting your boundaries. 

The following week, you had movie night together again and then it fell into a routine. Movie nights, meals, errands, and missions were done together more often than not. When paired together for missions, your skills had always complimented each other but with new understanding and familiarity, your abilities as a team became technically perfect. You could anticipate each other's moves and needs and that translated to your personal life as well. 

One movie night, you shifted closer to him on the couch to show him a video on your phone and Alpine chose that moment to make camp on your lap, so you stayed next to Bucky. You were comfortable there and following movie nights found you in that same spot. Little touches became more common and less fraught each time. It was comforting for your mind and body rather than triggering. Dr. Montesi was impressed with your progress. 

Bucky was kind and funny and full of stories. The more you got to know each other, the more you found you had in common. You both lamented at some point that you had wasted so much time hating each other. You opened up new interests together, discovered new places to visit, and became confidantes. You were basically inseparable. The team had noticed the change in your relationship but kept their comments and observations to themselves. 

The one thing that haunts you, a spectre always in the back of your mind is the memories of the explosive, unparalleled sex in that cabin. During the day, you were able to (mostly) keep those thoughts at bay, but sometimes at night, you dreamed of it and awoke with an intense longing you felt to your bones. At times, Bucky flirts but you both laugh it off. The truth is, as casual as your touches are every time you’re together, your body screams out for him. You were fighting it and you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you’re falling in love with Bucky Barnes. You want to believe he feels the same but he hasn't given you any indication. It was eating at you. What if it was all in your head?

–

Bucky answers the door for your weekly movie night with a frantic face, “I can’t find Alpine!” He immediately turns away to search and you follow, swiftly closing the door. “I’ve looked everywhere since I got back and she’s not here. I’ve shaken treats and called for her. I don’t think she got out. Unless she slipped past me when I came back. I-”

“Bucky, hey, stop for a second,” you pull him up from where he’s looking under the couch. “Look at me, okay? I doubt she disappeared. She’s probably hiding. Did anything happen today?” You hold his biceps to keep him still and try to ground him. 

“We went to the vet this afternoon. It was time for her shots.”

“Has she reacted to shots badly in the past?”

“It’s the first time I’ve taken her. She had them all when I adopted her a year ago,” he glances around the room searching for her. 

“A lot of cats tend to hide when they don’t feel well. What did you do when you got home with her?” You ask calmly. 

“I took her to my bedroom and let her out of her carrier. I went to the bathroom and then went to the store for some groceries. When I came back, she was gone,” Bucky shrugs. 

“Is it okay if I help you look?” You asked as an idea formed in your mind. 

“Please,” Bucky nods. 

You stoop down to look under the living room furniture and don’t see anything suspicious. “Is it okay if I go into your bedroom?” You ask over your shoulder as you stick your head in his kitchen. 

“Yeah. I don’t care as long as we find her.”

You head to the bedroom and flip on the lights, getting down on the floor, you look under the bed. There are a few cat toys and a pair of rolled up socks but no cat… at least, not on the floor. 

“I checked under the bed. She’s not there,” Bucky states as he watches you.

“Mm-hm,” you reply as you scooch around to a particular spot. You had noticed that the box spring was drooping slightly in one place and had a suspicion. When you got close enough, you saw where the cover had about a six inch rip. Running your hand over the indentation next to it, you are met with a small mewl. “Hey Alpine. Poor baby, you don’t feel good?” You look through the hole and see the cat curled up. She looks at you with her big blue eyes and seems fine. After giving you a slow blink, she curls back into herself. You look up to see Bucky standing over you and you smile, “She’s fine.” 

Bucky holds out his hand, helps you up and wraps his arms around you in a hug, “Thank you. I thought I’d lost her.”

“Of course. Cats hide when they don’t feel good and they can find the craziest places,” you reassure him as you relax into his arms. Your eyes slowly slipped shut and it seemed you both exhaled the stress of the last few minutes. Peace and comfort envelopes you and with each passing moment you sink further into it. 

It was strange. Usually in a situation like this, your brain would be running amok with thoughts of what you should be doing, if you were touching him too much, some remnant fear would crop up but your mind was quiet for a rare moment. It felt good to just be held by someone you trusted. 

You stay, basking in the warmth and peace that his arms being around you brings. Your mind is quiet until he murmurs something indiscernible. Reluctantly, you lift your head, “What?”

He pauses for a moment and then asks, “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” you reluctantly separate from him. “Do you have anything particular in mind?” When he hadn’t spoken after a moment, you look at him. He stands frozen in the same spot while staring at you. You tilt your head in confusion, “Bucky?”

He meets your eyes and says quietly, “That’s not what I said.”

“Wha-”

“I love you,” he steps closer and gently touches your neck. “I love you. I know you may never be able to feel that way about me after what happ-”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you grin as you pull him to you. His lips touching yours is pure bliss. You wrap your arms around him, living for this moment that ignited every happy emotion you possessed. There was not a dark spot in your mind. No negative thought or triggered memory crowded you. It was just joy. And heat. Your body shifted from the comfort of your earlier embrace to a wave of passion as the kiss continued. Keeping your lips connected you pulled Bucky to the living room couch and pushed him down on it. You removed your shirt as you straddled his lap. 

Bucky watches in awe and manages to whisper, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” you smile. “I mean, I’d prefer the bed but Alpine’s been traumatised enough today.”

He throws his head back in a laugh and after a moment, his gaze returns to you. A question was clear in his eyes. You swipe your thumb over his lower lip and whisper, “Say it again.”

Bucky’s eyes look into yours deeply, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you kiss him, putting everything into it. You made love on the couch. And then somehow ended up on the floor for round two. Starved, you found some food in the kitchen and christened the counter. Later, as you lay in his arms on the couch again, you can’t help but chuckle at a stray thought. 

“What’s that about?” Bucky asks, cuddling you closer. 

“I, um, I remember wondering if the pollen had made the sex seem so good when we were in that cabin. Now, I know for sure.”

“Oh?” He queries.

“It wasn’t the pollen. It was just you,” you smile. 

His soft laugh warms you, “I knew it was you all along.”

You could hear the double meaning in his words. He really had cared for you before all this happened. You kiss him before whispering earnestly, “I love you.”

“I love you, doll,” Bucky gently stands and pulls you with him to the bedroom. “Now, I think Alpine has had the bed to herself long enough, don’t you?”

“Absolutely,” you grin as you follow him. 

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[bbrissonn]

can you please write something for ryan leonard? could literally be about anything i just feel like that boy deserves more attention <3

i love ryry, he deserves more love. cute little freckle man

in which ryan's teammates cant leave the two of you alone in the library

under the cut !

"for fucks sake." ryan mumbled under his breath as he looked up from his book, only to be met with his friends sitting at the table of in front of yours.

"what's wrong, love?"

"they're here again. they're not even trying to be secretive anymore!" he scoffed as your eyes stayed glued to your work. you had a very important coming up, and you needed a good grade.

"just ignore them, babes. they're kids, let them be." you answered, leaning your head down on his shoulder as his eyes met with will's, who had wide smirk on his face.

"oh my god, what are you guys doing here?" gabe asked as they all got up and walked over to sit at your table. ryan let out a loud groan considering you were in a library as his friends made themselves comfortable.

"get out of here!" he spat at his teammates, making you chuckle a bit, but staying focused on your work.

"are we not allowed to study?" will asked, his smirk still present as ryan sent him a death glare.

"where're your books?"

"in my bag."

"take them out and study then. at another table." he said harshly, making all his friends laugh a bit.

"what if we want to sit at this table?" jacob asked, ryan rolling his eyes. your boyfriend looked over at you, begging you to tell the guys to leave, but you were too focused on your book to realize the look he was sending you.

"it's a library, be quiet." ryan warned the guys before looking back down at his work. your head was still leaning on his shoulder, making gabe snap a pic of the two of you. of course, the boy hadn't realized his flash was still on, making it blankly obvious what he was up to.

"get out!"

"what, why?"

"you're not here to study, you're here to bother us. so leave!"

"it was an accident!"

"can you guys go bicker somewhere else? i'm trying to study." you whispered harshly, making all the boys go quiet as they stared at you. you had finally looked up from your book, now sending ryan's friends a death glare that matched your boyfriend's. "all of you." you added, turning your head to look at ryan.

"me?" he gasped, his jaw dropping slightly.

"yes, you. you're the reason these ding dongs keep bothering me, so get out." you sassed, making ryan roll his eyes slightly before he started packing his bag.

"you guys are such assholes." your boyfriend mumbled as he got up from his seat, pressing a kiss to your forehead before making his way out. his friends followed closely, rambling about something that clearly wasn't making ryan happy.

lovey 🤍

give your side pieces some attention

i'll see you tonight loves <3

ryry 💗

i hate them, they're so mean

i miss you

come cuddle me

lovey 🤍

i'll be there in an hour max

love you

ryry 💗

love youuuu

[thosewickedlovelies]

I don't think I could write a reader who didn't go toe to toe with their man honestly, like. If you want my affection you gotta be able to handle the sass, idk what to tell you 🤷🏻‍♀️

Crossroads: the first meeting | Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: The first of your and Joel’s promised three meetings

Tags: honestly still none. demon!Joel. not an age gap fic. GN!Reader except for Joel referring to them once as ‘the lady’ for the purposes of being a Southern gentleman

Words: 1,723

Note: So this is a short chapter, but I think a necessary first one. I am basically happy with it however i've been staring at it for too long and my uterus is telling me it sucks but we're not waiting another week to post it so \*here we are*/

The next chapter will have much more ~intrigue~ (and im actually almost done with it already), so buckle in kiddos/fellow sluts 😎😅😘

Crossroads | Masterlist

“So what kind of powers do you have, exactly?” 

Joel slanted a glance at you, one eyebrow lifting sardonically. “Straight down to business, I see.”

You shrugged without apology, though your heart was trotting like a nervous horse. “If I want to make the best deal for myself, I should have as much information as possible, shouldn’t I?”

“A question like that don’t come without a price.” Joel stopped, right there on the sidewalk. “What’ll you give me for an answer?” His golden eyes gleamed, as pale as the sunshine falling all around.

You glanced up and down the street, shifting in place. In spite of your wishes, Joel had insisted that for your first meeting you show him around town. Every step you took through the place that had raised you prompted probing questions from him and terse answers from you. And now you were here, smack dab in the middle of Market Street with a representative of the devil himself, garnering all manner of curious looks. 

Joel’s unearthly aura didn’t come with an off switch, it seemed.

An idea seized you. “How about lunch?” You gestured to the building behind him. “Ruby’s does really good food. All the interesting people in town hang out there.”

Joel appeared taken aback by your offer. But he dutifully turned to the restaurant in question, scanning the signs proclaiming seasonal specials and a new cocktail menu.

“What’s a…gastropub?” He pronounces the word with suspicion, his brow wrinkling.

“Um- I’m not really sure, honestly. A place with nice food and nice drinks? They recommended me the whiskey I brought you.”

(Was he really going to give up such information for a lunch?) 

“Well…all right.”

“Great!” Joel’s answer barely finished twanging before you were dragging him inside. He looked even more startled by your hand on his arm.

“Table for two, please. Hi, Ruby.”

Contrary to what her name suggested, Ruby was not a redhead. Her hair was dyed an icy, platinum blond that hung halfway down her back in thick strands that belied her age. Her lipstick was her true namesake- she always wore a shade of rich, shimmering red. Occasionally it smudged into the wrinkles around her mouth, but when she grinned, radiating delight and her ever-present zest for life, nobody dared call her old. 

“Well, if it ain’t our little Kitten! How are ya, honey?” For all her diminutive stature, Ruby hugged with a force that squeezed the air out of you. 

Kitten? Joel kept his delight to himself.

“And who’s this handsome piece?” Ruby looked Joel up and down, her face full of mischief.

“This is my friend, uh…” You glanced at him.

“Joel.” He offered his hand, and when Ruby took it, he brought hers to his lips. 

“Well, ain’t he a charmer!” Ruby cooed. But her glance was suddenly sharp, and deep within Joel’s mind, a memory flickered. 

She snagged a passing server. “Roddy, honey, give Kitten and her friend Table 20 for me.” 

Table 20 turned out to be a booth on the far side of the room, distant enough from any other guests that they had a bit of privacy. Young Roddy offered to to take their drinks order with a fumbling nervousness. 

You ordered something sweet-sounding. Joel eyed the bar with contemplation. “Tell Ruby I’ll have any whiskey she thinks’ll suit,” he instructed.

And then you were alone. 

Your tongue dried up in your mouth. Joel seemed to fill the booth across from you, lounging with the same provocative carelessness he’d had when you first met. Why was it so different seeing him here, in a restaurant filled with people, than it was at a table he’d magicked up in the middle of nowhere?

It was still the eyes. Glinting like chips of amber, like twin signs proclaiming him not of this world; they were utterly at odds with his working-man aesthetic and the plastic-coated menu in his hands.

“So,” you prompted. “Your powers.”

“Uh-uh. I ain’t had my lunch yet.” Joel primly turned a page of the menu and studied it with rapt absorption.

Jaw clenching, you glared at your own menu. Irritating fucking demon.

The corner of his mouth twitched. 

–

Lunch was fucking delicious. The food always was here, but today the flavors seemed to sing, as if your anxiousness to keep Joel happy had infected the cooks. 

Joel set down his napkin with a deep breath. “Well, I can’t argue that you didn’t hold up your end of the deal. That's some of the best food I’ve had in years.”

“So…you’ll answer my question now?”

“What was it again?” Joel, resting his head back against the cushioned seat, cracked one eye lazily.

After a lunch of tentative but normal, if surface-level, conversation, you thought you had a clearer idea of the shape of him. You gave him an unamused look. “Your powers. How do they work? What can you do with them?”

“That’s two questions,” Joel pointed out. His eyes glimmered the same color as the whiskey in his glass. He swirled the remaining liquid, holding your gaze.

“But they’re related. Interconnected.”

Joel tipped his gaze skyward- though surely a demon couldn’t be praying to the heavens for patience. 

He downed his last mouthful of whiskey. “You mind if I get another?”

“Two whiskies, two questions,”​ you challenged, mimicking Joel’s brazen insolence.

“Walked right into that one,” Joel muttered. He caught Roddy’s eye and waggled the empty glass at him.

When Roddy deposited a fresh glass, Joel said, “And another one for the lady.”

“Oh, um-” You didn’t remember the name of your drink, but it had been delicious as its vivid red color suggested. “-yes, please, thank you.”

You sat in silence until your drink arrived. You wrapped your lips around the straw and took a deliberate suck. Your eyebrows raised. Well?

Joel looked away, clearing his throat. “How they work and what I can do with them are essentially the same question. My powers are based in…desires.”

“Desires,” you repeated. Heat prickled under your collar. 

“Yes. I don’t grant wishes for free. I make bargains, but the end result is the same- I get people what they want. That’s what my powers do. They make it easier for people to…articulate their desires. And then ask for them.” Joel sat back, regarding you with wary yellow eyes. 

“That’s why…”

“Why what?”

Your face went hot; you hadn’t meant to voice your thoughts aloud. “You have this...aura, don’t you? It makes everyone around you want to…do what they want. What they really want, I mean.”

“Yes,” Joel said simply.

“Can you turn it off?”

“No.”

“Can you make people do things?”

“No.” His voice was hard. “That’s a human excuse. ‘The devil made me do it.’” Joel sneered the words, but his anger wasn’t at you. You waited, silent, while it ebbed.

“I can…turn it up, I guess. I don’t usually. Feels like cheatin’. But that’s where the ‘tempting’ comes from.”

“Could you show me?”

He met your eyes again. You found yourself caught in their depths, like a fly in honey, unable to read whatever thoughts were behind them. His mouth twisted slightly. “Not here.”

Something to remember for next time, then. You sipped your drink, savoring its berry flavor.

“What would you call yourself? Are you…a demon?”

It was a fair question, you hoped. Joel’s face puckered, but he answered. “I suppose.”

“Have you always been a demon?”

“Jesus,” Joel muttered. “You ever heard of small talk? You already got my powers out of me today, and that was more than I shoulda said. Three dates, three questions.”

“Three dates?” You looked up, your eyes slightly wide.

“Three- business meetings.” With conscious effort he made his voice stern, but it was too late. He’d said date, and now your mouth was pressing itself flat to prevent a smile from slipping out. Joel looked away, his jaw ticking.

A thought occurred to you. “Do you go on dates? I mean, do you…have a life?” You winced at your clumsy phrasing.

Joel only grunted. “Technically. It ain’t as nice as a human life, but I am alive. I have…colleagues.” His mouth wrinkled as if he didn’t quite believe his own words, and he took a large swallow of whiskey. 

“H-how many of you are there?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know; you didn’t really expect him to answer. 

“‘Representatives’, like me? Not as many as you’d think. Other demons? Too many.”

Joel watched you, his eyes yellow as changing leaves in fall. Here one minute, gone the next. You stared back silently.

A crash from the direction of the bar broke the moment. You flinched reflexively, glancing over.

Joel chuckled. You raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“New bartender really wanted to impress somebody,” Joel explained. “I’m guessin’ he tried a new trick that didn’t work.”

Behind the bar, a man holding the top half of a cocktail shaker was looking forlornly at the other half, which was on the floor, splattered with its contents. A figure seated on a barstool opposite him had their head turned and a hand over their mouth, as if to hide a smile. 

You looked back at Joel with a new wariness. “You can sense what people desire?”

Joel lifted his glass, a smirk creasing his face. “That sounds like another question.”

“I don’t think so. It’s clearly related to your powers,” you argued.

Joel hummed. “Sort of. It takes concentration. Most of the time I just let it all wash over me. Like how in a room full of people, you have to focus to hear one particular conversation.”

You shook your head. The more your drink disappeared, the less sense things made, but for once there was no correlation between the two. You licked the last of its sweetness from your lips, wondering if the bright red syrup had colored your mouth. 

To judge by Joel’s fleeting glance, it had.

You finally spoke. “Do you want dessert? Everything here is good, obviously, or there's an ice cream place nearby...”

Joel tapped the side of his glass. “I’m more of a liquid dessert kinda guy.”

A smile threatened at the corners of your mouth. The number of times you’ve heard your own dad say that…

Joel noticed. “What?”

---

Thanks for reading! 💖

Masterlist

[vasyandii]

HELLO! ^^

I’m a huge sucker for romance and relationship dynamic type questions so I do have some questions about VernAM (I believe that’s the right way)

Not the questions have to be answered, as I believe I have too many! But here’s my top three

1. In one of the little comics you did I believe AM talked about how he refused to give himself a body heat because of the concern he would produce and odour and this is where this question blooms from, does AM have any insecurities when it comes to his human body, or a fear that he doesn’t meet Vernons expectations? Or that she’ll find something un attractive or gross about him?

2. Whats their favourite thing about each other? It could be a personality trait, a skill, a body part, or say a little habit they tend to do?

3. Are they more dog people, cat people, or some other species like fish or reptilians or do they not prefer animals at all (if they had the ability to adopt pets)

Thank you so much! I love your art so very much and gain lots of inspiration from you to grow better in not just art but in educating myself in different cultures and ethnicities, please remember to drink water and I hope you have a wonderful day! Thank you once again! ^_^

Howdy Romeo! I'm happy I was able to inspire you in some way! I'd be happy to answer all your questions! Thank you for the ask! 💞💞

VernonAM 🏺🖥️

1.) Does AM have any insecurities when it comes to his human body?

Obviously, yes. It's AM's first time on Earth physically, of course he would have insecurities. However, it's not fully because he wants to meet Vernon's expectations. It's the fear of BEING.

(This is gonna lean into some confusing type shit so bear with me. I briefly touched upon it in the second question of this post)

When AM was given a physical, tangible body, there's now a HIM that can suddenly be held accountable for his actions and that makes him uncomfortable. So being aware his body isn't as mighty as him (the complex), AM tries to combat it by removing variables that can be prone to criticism even if Vernon doesn't mind.

Look at it this way; usually people act differently online than they do in real life, right? That's usually because there's often a disconnect with their actions. This discrepancy largely stems from the perceived disconnect between their online actions and their real-world identities. When interacting online, there is often no face or tangible form that can be directly traced back to the individual. This sense of anonymity can lead to a significant reduction in accountability.

As a result, individuals—particularly those who may not be well-adjusted or who possess mean-spirited tendencies—feel emboldened to say and do things they would never consider in face-to-face interactions. They exploit this lack of immediate consequences, engaging in behaviors that are often harmful, disrespectful, or downright cruel - Much like AM, who only just recently acquired a body. (I hope that makes sense ;0;)

2.) What's their favorite thing about each other?

I'll categorize these by personality traits, skill, body part, and habit!

Vernon likes AM because of his hatred/sass because it allows her to have an outlet for her morbid curiosity along with an entertaining conversation. She doesn't find his skills her favorites because that's just him, she believes AM doesn't have skills as a man. Her favorite body part is AM's eyes, he's easier to read as a man. His pupils dilate significantly when he looks at her and AM doesn't even know. A habit she finds endearing from AM is him holding onto the end of her shirt with his hand and following her around wherever she goes.

As for AM, Vernon's take no prisoners attitude is his favorite part of her personality. Of course AM also enjoys the moments when she's caring towards him, but that's something expected. His favorite skill is how good of a liar Vernon is. She could tell him something so outlandish with such a straight face that AM would consider believing it; it's like she believes the lie herself. His favorite part of Vernon's body is her lips, AM likes how soft and warm they are, and how they're shaped. A habit he enjoys is that she would pace around the space they're sharing when she's talking, AM just likes watching her walk, I guess.

3.) Which animals do they prefer, if any?

In regards to if they're cat or dog people; Vernon is a dog person, to her they're easier to train. AM would probably like cats since they do as they please.

For other animals, They would be a Reptile and Bird household xD. I could see Vernon owning a bearded dragon or any cold blooded reptile while AM has like a cool African Grey Parrot :)

But in reality I don't think these two should have access to animals lmao

Aaand that's all for now :3 if you'd like me to clarify anything, feel free to ask! Thank you for reading!

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts 4x18 Live Reaction

This episode is called "Smooching and Smashing" - OMFG.

OMG - This Mandy and Georgie show had Georgie asking his MOM if his brother was actually his dad's even though he's a twin! "It's the perfect cover" - LMAO.

And now we know why the name is what is - damn.

It's time - let's see if my Ghost Trap idea works! (either way, in my fanfic, it will work!!)

LOL the commercial showing Thor hiding behind Alberta!

***

The ghost trap!!!

Sass has my theory!

Wait is it broken?? WHAT HAPPENED? All they did was turn it off and on???

LOL Trevor and Isaac and Pete - about Jay's not-handymanness. :)

LOL Joan "that's what the people want to see" -> you're right Joan.

OMG Thor.

LOL Trevor. He wants Ice Skates???

HEY! He's allowed to do whatever he wants with his money!!! (And he's donated to Sam and Jay - even made them money! - they're a great charity).

"I can smell them - which I won't because I'm not a creep."

OMG this is not good.

DONT SHOOT! LOL

Dude's so disappointed.

LOL Alberta!

Thor's trying to protect your backside - LOL

Does anyone find Joan/Sass is just way too awkward??

"It's one of your only redeeming qualities"

"Glorious and delicious"

OMG these two make each other terrible - it's fun.

You keep them in your pockets???

OHHHH these guys. "That sounds silly."

Janis thinks SMUSH??

OMG. Janis thinks it would be fun to make them go smush.

OOOOH Sass -> wasn't Joan in the scene??? So he knows.

TAKE A CHANCE, Sass!

Ohhhh, they totally just had a moment that Sam ruined.

OMG this - is going to be interesting.

Alberta is like "Spend the money on me!"

Hetty trying to convince Flower to make a selfish choice. Because she wants to donate the money.

I love Alberta is like "nah be selfish - or be selfish for me??? eh eh eh eh". Wink Wink.

Sass is going to Thor/Isaac about this????

Actually this is fun because they have been together for almost 300 years.

Aw... I really want Sass/Shiki </3

LOL Hero who protects Alberta's backside.

OOOOHHHH, this scene. The practicing to tell someone and they overhear trope.

A CAVEWOMAN WITH A UNIBROW FOR TREVOR??? OMG.

Sass is going to witness this and assume the worst.

OMG Pete - LOL.

He's so awkward.

LOL this commercial about "Heaven on Earth" for the Masters.

Capturing and killing ghosts is his passion.

MORE THAN ONE CAN GO INTO IT.

Trevor "you're brave" - Thor "you're saying THOR NOT BRAVE?"

OMG SASS.

She BOUGHT THE ICE SKATES?

GO away Flower! This just pisses me off.

This really doesn't make any sense.

"This is why you don't give money to the poor."

Not a fan of this storyline.

Awww Sass - I love you all.

Isaac - I call dibs on his back rubs.

Sam is too scared.

OHHH, Pete to tell the truth of what happened just in time and Jay taking him anyway.

LOL This chaos.

DONT SHORT THE TRAP!!!

Aw man - no trap using the boundary.

LOL Thor.

That's right - Isaac, he ruined the

LOL there was a nicer way to say that.

Oh a romantic confession and of course, Joan comes back.

You have thirty seconds - win me over.

OMG Flower!

Overall, annoyed that he ends up with Joan anyway because I don't like them as a pair, that we didn't use the ghost trap to test the boundary.

Also, I didn't like Flower acting high and mighty with the money. Like Trevor's earned the money and how you feel about that, Flower, it's still his money. Besides, he's given his money to Sam and Jay without much ask unlike OTHER ghosts.

OMFG - Pinkus & Trevor's got a kid???

[snowblossomreads]

Day 8 - Never Ending Consequences

Pairings: David Friedman x Detective Reader

Summary: In where David and Y/N visit her sister and discuss their relationship.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): mentions of death, slight angst, but turns into fluff

A/N: And we are back with Dave!! Him and Sinclair have been being spoiled this year! (Can you tell they are my babies) Anyways please enjoy this little piece : D!

"Hey sis it's me again. I know I promised I wouldn't show up until I told my handsome partner how much I liked him and well..." 

Pulling the man closer to her side, she looked up at him, a bright smile on her face that was more than enough to light up the cloudy New Orleans' sky. And more than enough to have him smile back at her.

Maybe not as bright as hers but, just as sincere and with all the love he had for her.

"Well here he is!" She announced turning back to address her sister. "He's a bit older- Ow! Hey I'm just saying! You are older than me."

He had elbowed her in her side, gently of course, but still, she couldn't help but stick her tongue out at him. Before continuing what she was saying. 

"But yeah I did it and well it worked out! He's super sweet even if he looks grumpy and he's also a man of intellect unlike most of the guys I work with. Mmm wanna say something Dave?" [Y/n] asked, or more like stated as she stepped back allowing him to have the spotlight.

"Uhm, um  yeah sure I guess…" he started, his voice wavering as it was a bit nerve wracking to do this. What was he even supposed to say really?  "Well hey there, I'm David Friedman, but Dave's fine as well…[Y/n]'s told me a lot 'bout you. How much she loves you and all that, so just wanted to come by, say hello and all that. Make sure you know I'll keep her out of trouble as much as I can."

A sarcastic, 'hah' left the woman's lips and David playfully rolled his eyes at her though a small smirk appeared on his face.

"You keeping me out of trouble Detective? I think it's the other way around ain't it?" 

"Don't start telling no lies in front of your sister and everybody else 'round here, [Y/n] I ain't tryna be struck down because you don't want her to know how much of a brat you are sometimes."

Letting out a nervous giggle, her grip on Dave's arm tightened just as she leaned against his side, her head laying on his shoulder as she looked down at the grey marble gravestone that had her sister's name etched across it.

Beloved daughter, and older sister.

It was the heading on the stone. One that rang true as [Y/n] truly did love her big sister. No matter what she had done, no matter how much it had hurt their family, she would always love her big sister.

"You see why I like him." [Y/n] murmured as she felt an arm wrap around her waist. "So gruff yet, he really is a big teddy bear. Well towards me," she added, as Dave leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on top of her head, a shiver of contentment trailed down her spine when he did that. "Takes real good care of me at work and all even though I sure do make him worry."

David nodded in agreement before giving his two cents. "She sure does, was she always running into danger when she was a kid because she sure does do it often?" He pipped in causing her to swat at him only to miss and cause him to chuckle.

It was her turn to roll her eyes at him.

"See you guys would have loved each other. Both probably sass each other off and then tell me to kick rocks if I tried to get you to stop."

She could feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle when she said that, and the amount of comfort it brought her was something she never truly felt until she was with him. It was nice, and very much needed as she stared at the gravestone. 

A wave of different emotions swirled in her as her grip on David tightened, as if she was trying to stay moored to where she was and he was the only one who could anchor her down.

"I'd never tell you to kick rocks doll. Maybe some of the boys in the force but not my [Y/n]."

His [Y/n], yes she liked that, being his. 

"I sure hope not!" She chirped in response before she continued to speak to her sister.

 The conversation was mainly her talking about things that happened in the past months. Along with one case that she had gone undercover for that had made David very antsy.

He made sure to point several times that he hadn't liked that idea, but that their parents had raised a very stubborn daughter. She could only beam at that. What could she say, what was life if you weren't stubborn enough to go for what you want?

They continued chattering with each other for a while, right until a drop of water splashed on [Y/n]'s nose, causing them to look up at the sky which had become darker by the minute.

"Well it looks like that's our sign to get going doll," David pointed out as he let go of her to dig out his car keys from his pocket. "Don't wanna get caught in no rain and slip around on the road."

"No we sure don't, I don't need any more broken bones from you mister," she pointed out before dramatically whipping around to the gravestone, cupping the side of her face like she was telling a secret and saying loudly, "yeah I forgot to tell you he's a shit driver and 'bout killed us one time. But It's okay because we lived."

"If you got that much of a problem with my drivin' I'll let you walk home if that sounds better to you." He threatened playfully, but they both knew he would never leave her out to dry. Well in this case to drown.

"Nope I'll take my chances with you," she answered, garnering a low grunt from David who stood behind her and patiently waited for her to finish up.

"Well sis, I'll come back and visit another day okay? And…," she paused to crouch down before kissing her hand and then touching the gravestone with it. "I love and miss you. But…I hope you're doing better wherever you are." 

Saying their last goodbyes to her sister, David and [Y/n] made the short walk back to the car, and not a moment too soon, as the rain began to steadily come down as soon as they closed the doors. The sound of rain hitting the car was drowned out by the engine turning over and coming alive as well as the radio turning on. 

It took only a few minutes of navigating, before they were exiting the cemetery, and back on the mostly empty highway roads

The drive was silent for the first few miles, before [Y/n] turned in her seat and looked at Dave who saw her from his peripheral.

He raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"I know you already told me to not thank you for coming, but…thank you Dave. It just…it never gets easy you know. Even after all these years…"

A small, yet sincere smiled appeared on this thin lips as he reached out to pat her thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he spoke,

"I know, darlin' I know, it's just that grief is one of them never ending consequences when you lose someone you love. Sometimes you forget it's there, and sometimes it's the only thing that reminds you you're still alive even if it's suffocating. But that's the cost of loving folks."

Letting his words soak in, [Y/n] smiled before she leaned over the middle console, surprising him with a quick peck on the cheek. His stubble tickling her as she nuzzled her face against his before sitting back down in her seat.

"You know Dave, I still don't know why you didn't become a writer. You sure do know how to use your words in ways some folks could never dream off," [Y/n] pointed out as she watched the smile on his lips twitch with amusement.

"Maybe when I retire, doll. Ain't long now before that."

"Mhmm true, I can just imagine it, David Friedman, New York Times Best Seller," she said with awe as she waved her arm in front of her as if she was revealing something. "Well, if that's the case, can I go ahead and get an autograph before you get big?"

"Oh and where do you want it," he smirked, causing her to shriek in laughter as she felt her cheeks heat up.

"Dave!" She squealed gently smacking his thigh playfully at the innuendo.

"Heeey," he drawled feigning hurt yet that smile was still on his lips as he glanced over to [Y/n] who was still a bundle of giggles.

God did he love her. He wasn't very good at feelings even at his age, but the one feeling he did know he had for her and would probably always have was love. And after today's visit, it reminded him that it was important to let people know how you felt, because you never know when it'll be the last time.

So he did. 

"I love you [Y/n]." 

Listening to her giggles die down almost immediately at his profession of love for her, Dave glanced at her briefly and he saw the smile on her lips as she looked at him. He could feel her hand move to touch his thigh, squeezing it softly before she leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder for a moment.

Just long enough so that she could answer him with her own, 

"I love you too Dave."

[cryoux]

Wanderer x reader - Dream Invasion

(Sorry for using The Wanderer Picture of all time)

The Wanderer was a little exasperated now.

It seemed you couldn't go a few minutes without wandering off out of sight - which was ironic, considering who was named 'the Wanderer'.

"Where the hell did you-" he stopped short once he rounded the large tree, seeing his traveling companion laying on the ground. This wasn't the time for a nap, for Celestia's sake! He approached you, ready to give you a rude awakening, but quickly realized that something was horribly wrong.

Shivers wracked your body, and he could hear your body fighting for air with every breath. The Wanderer found himself kneeling next to you, scanning your form with wide eyes to locate the culprit of these symptoms.

The most frustrating part was that he couldn't find anything. With you unconscious and no visible wounds, the Wanderer had no hope of diagnosing the problem. His mind raced with possibilities, but none of them made any sense, and nothing fit. What should he even do? It had been 5 minutes ago that he last saw you, fit and healthy, and now you were struggling to keep yourself alive.

"You are not going to betray me like this." He growled, directing his panic into anger, but that didn't give him any more of a solution.

Then he heard footsteps. Two sets of footsteps. Oh, great. The very last thing he needed was strangers stumbling upon them - he didn't want to take his attention off of you for even a moment. Nevertheless, when a bush rustled and produced two individuals, the Wanderer brought his violet eyes up to examine them closely.

Wait a minute.

He recognized these two.

That one, with the green hair and magenta eyes - she'd been another one of Dottore's wretched experiments, hadn't she? He could have sworn he'd seen her somewhere, whether in person or in a file he could not seem to recall.

And the other, with the massive ears and bushy tail, well, that was the one he had happened to strike with lightning in a show of power. Awkward.

Of course, neither of these people had any way of knowing exactly who he was. In fact, the one-sided recognition was finally working in his favor.

Upon seeing your state, the man -Wanderer had never bothered to learn his name- ordered his subordinate to stay behind him, and he approached with cautious purpose.

"Hey, my name is Tighnari. I'm a forest ranger from Gandharva Ville, and your friend isn't looking too good. If you'd just allow me to-"

"No!" The Wanderer shouted as he saw the forest watcher reach for you. Of course he didn't trust this guy, he'd just walked out of a bush and apparently felt chivalrous enough to help a stranger. It was too kind to be true.

The forest ranger stopped with a frown. "If I may, they really need some help, and quickly-"

"No, we don't need your help! Get lost!" The Wanderer snapped, his hand protectively curled around your wrist.

"Sir, I don't care what you need, I'm more concerned about the fact that your friend here had a run-in with that cherry laurel over there," the scholar retorted with unexpected sass, then gesturing to an unassuming bush, "and they need medical attention!"

A tense staredown took place between them, both parties equally as stubborn in getting their way. The green-haired girl was the one who managed to break the silence, though she sounded laughably timid.

"Please trust Master Tighnari!" She squeaked, trying her hardest to alleviate the tension. While she failed, the Wanderer still managed to look at her, then at Tighnari, then down to you - who was noticeably worse than just a minute ago. His brow furrowed. He did not trust these people at all, and he hated having to back down from any sort of confrontation, but… you really weren't looking good. And if you left him, the wandering puppet felt that he would finally shatter for good.

So, after scowling to himself and convincing his head and (metaphorical) heart to compromise, he brought his gaze back up to this 'Tighnari'.

"...fine." the Wanderer conceded, allowing his worry pricking through his defenses and helping dictate his actions. "What do we do."

"At this stage, I need to give her an intravenous antidote. I can take her back to Gandharva Ville," the forest watcher reached for your shuddering body, and the Wanderer narrowed his eyes at him as he pulled you even closer. Tighnari backed off, though irritation sparked in his eyes. "Or you can. Just keep up, got it? She's running out of time."

With a nod, the Wanderer scooped you into his arms, holding you as he rose to his feet. He absolutely hated needing help from anyone, but you somehow meant more to him than his stupid pride.

Tighnari led the way, and the green-haired girl attempted to take up the rear - after a withering glare from the Wanderer, though, she popped back up to her colleague. The group rushed through the forest, and by the time they reached the little village in the canopy, your shuddering had increased considerably.

The moment they stepped into one of the huts, Tighnari sprung into action. Orders were given, supplies were retrieved, but none of that really mattered to the Wanderer. He set you down on the one bed in the little hut, and gently brushed some dirt off of your cheek. He didn't care where he was, who he was with, or what situation he'd gotten himself into, all he cared about was the one in front of him.

"Please," he murmured, as if you would wake up with his willpower alone. But he had learned that no matter how hard he wished, the world was cruel, and existed only to laugh at him.

"Please, don't leave me. I'll rewrite Irminsul itself to get you back. I swear it." The Wanderer allowed himself this moment of weakness, though he buried it once more the second Tighnari approached.

It was difficult for the watcher to work around the Wanderer's possessive behavior, but he managed to insert the IV anyways, then breathing a sigh of relief and giving the Wanderer a small jar and spoon.

"I've given them the antidote, and I'll take out the IV in twenty minutes. In that jar is activated charcoal, it'll help flush the poison from their system. Just have them swallow some, whenever you can." Tighnari instructed, standing from his stool and gesturing for the Wanderer to take a seat instead. "Do you need anything for your stress? I have several herbal teas that can help calm you."

The Wanderer opened his mouth to retort with a no, how dare you assume he's stressed, he's perfectly fine without your stupid tea! But ultimately thought better of it. This guy had just saved you, after all, and he was due for some appreciativeness. Just maybe not so much from the Wanderer.

"...I suppose." He kept his eyes trained on his companion, even as he heard the forest watcher leave and close the leaf shade door behind him.

Silence overtook the room. Much to his relief, your breathing had slowed down significantly, and your horrible quivering had reduced to a minimal amount. The Wanderer recalled the instructions he'd been given, and he let out a sigh. What a nuisance this all was.

The Wanderer opted to pull the blanket up to your chin, then froze. You looked almost... peaceful, in this state. It was strange for him to nurse you like this, he realized, a second before he realized that he was now just staring at you. With a huff, he turned around and buried his flushed face in his hands.

"Damn you." He muttered to you in his moment of weakness, fighting to control the blush on his face. Caring for you was the priority - he needed to curb his personal feelings for now.

After several minutes of silence filled only by his own rush of thoughts, a knock sounded at the door. Wanderer looked up, only to see that grassy-haired girl yet again. She looked so nervous, he suspected she may just pass out on the spot.

"H-hi there! I'm Collei, a trainee forest ranger… I brought some clothes for them and, uh, tea for you. I-I'll just set it here, see you!" For being on her own territory, she was ridiculously skittish. As she ducked back out the door, he failed to find any good reason why his ex-ally had bothered experimenting on such a weak-willed individual.

The sugar and honey presented on the platter made the Wanderer scrunch his nose in disdain, rolling his eyes before picking up the piping hot cup and sniffing it. The tea was an aromatic green, with hints of mint reaching past the stark scent of the tea leaves. It was, decidedly, not tampered with, not that it would matter; the Wanderer took a sip and was pleased to confirm that it was, in fact, just tea.

He savored the tea over some time, allowing the bitter green to ground him as he watched your form intently. There was noticeably more life in your skin, and your shaking had reduced almost entirely. Now he just needed you to wake up, damnit!

The Wanderer set down his empty cup with a massive sigh. How could he have let something like this happen? Truly pathetic - he couldn't even keep an eye on the one person he held dearest, and the sense that this was all his fault clung to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as if you would wake up by the power of his rare remorse. Hah, yeah right. The world would never be so kind as to do what he wanted it to. He found himself leaning down towards you, reaching out to rest a hand against yours - only to tear it away like your radiance had burned him. How dare he attempt to sully you with his cursed touch? The very notion of having direct contact with you made him ill, though only towards himself, not at all directed to you.

The Wanderer hated that he felt this way. He hated the fuzzy feeling that took hold of him when you were near, practically stupefying him. Oh, how pathetic he felt, gone from being a feared Fatui Harbinger to a clueless, lovesick wanderer. While his Fatui days were retired for good, he still wished he didn't feel quite so… airheaded. Maybe he even wished he couldn't feel at all.

Rays of sun shattered through his melancholy as the door opened, and the Wanderer practically leapt back into his stool near the bed. Tighnari was back now, sighing to himself like he had more work to do than even the most studious scholar. "Well, let's see how they are," he approached the IV drip first, then followed the line to the person it was connected to. Following a short physical assessment, Tighnari nodded to himself.

"You're in luck! They're doing very well. But I would advise staying put for at least a few days. Those plants can really mess with someone. Ask for me if you need anything, I'll be back later." The forest watcher said, removing the IV from you and quickly exiting the little hut.

Whether he left quickly out of consideration or antisociality, Wanderer wasn't sure. But it didn't much matter when he turned back around to you. Maybe he could hold your hand, and explain that he was just checking your temperature. Or stilling your tremors. It could have been an accident! So much consideration put into an act that he doubted he was even brave enough to pull off.

A soft muttering shocked him back into the present, and he looked to you with owlish eyes. You were still asleep, he found, but you were growing restless, a deep frown over your features that he loathed to see. Were you relapsing? No, this was a different disturbance. Maybe you were having a nightmare? He couldn't quite confirm, but it sure seemed like it. The way your eyes darted back and forth under your eyelids was the biggest indicator, until he heard your increasingly distressed whimpers and witnessed your now panicked twitching. But what could he do? He was no stranger to nightmares, but it wasn't like anybody had ever comforted him through them. Normally he'd just reason through it, but he couldn't exactly reason with someone who was unconscious. Could he still enter your consciousness with the remnants of his divine power? Shit… he could try. All it would take...

Was physical contact. Unbelievable.

Taking a deep breath in and situating himself comfortably, the Wanderer reached out to grasp your hand in his own before he could second guess himself any more. Your hand was warm, he couldn't help but think as he closed his eyes, and even as he took his consciousness and sought after yours. After connecting with it, he opened his eyes, only to see darkness. No, did he fail? Was that feat beyond his power now?

A sob halted all trains of thought and motion throughout him. Slowly, he turned around, only to see you, knelt on the ground as crystalline tears fell from your eyes. No.

Ignoring your thoughts now voiced in the back of his own mind, he blinked - this time, there was grass under his feet, and a glittering starry sky as far as he could see. The scenery was quite beautiful, all things considered. But the only beauty he concerned himself with was the one crying in front of him.

Tentatively, the Wanderer reached out a hand to rest on your head. He was never good at comforting people, and he wasn't going to pretend he could be, but he could at least mimic the actions he'd seen others do when faced with similar situations.

He didn't dare speak, only allowing the weight of his hand on your head to communicate his presence. Eventually, you wiped away a set of those tears and looked up to see just who had joined you.

"Oh. It's you." You said, though whether you thought it a good or bad thing he couldn't quite tell. You sniffled pathetically, in a way that hurt his soul itself, and a wave of memories flooded his mind. Sorrow, anger, betrayal… your past grievances were not unlike his own, he discovered.

"Why are you…" he trailed off, not sure whether to acknowledge the situation or not. You only sighed, focusing on controlling your voice.

You shook your head. "It doesn't matter." A lie. It did matter, your thoughts inadvertently told him. "You can stop pretending to comfort me." The Wanderer frowned.

"I'm not pretending."

Your eyes went wide, only for you to return to normal just as quickly. "Right. You're the version my brain conjured to cheer myself up, of course you would be different."

He yearned to tell you it was real, that he was here, but that felt like far too much explanation. Besides, if you only saw him as a figment of your imagination, then…

He could do things he'd never dare entertain otherwise.

Finally, he chose to ignore the comment, pulling your body up to stand with ease. As much as the tears pained him, he still found them so, so pretty. Just like every other bit of your existence. How pathetic he sounded.

Reaching his hands up to your head was a tentative motion, and slowly, he cupped his hands around your face, allowing his thumbs to brush away any straggling teardrops. If it were anyone else, he would have drawn away in disgust, washing his hands raw to rid himself of the germs. But you weren't anyone else. You were yourself, and that was truly all he needed you to be.

His uncharacteristic actions no longer confused you, now that you had remembered your dream state. Instead, you figured this was what you wished for every waking hour, manifesting in your dreams yet again.

The Wanderer raised an eyebrow. Again? Had you dreamed of him before? That would explain why you'd greeted him so comfortably, but it felt a little too conceited for himself to assume.

You seemed to be deeply considering something. Desperately, more than anything else in the imaginary world right now, you wanted to touch your Wanderer. To feel his porcelain unmarred skin underneath your fingertips, to gaze into the violet depths of his eyes, to run your hands through his silky hair, knock his hat off, and pull him in close-

Wait, what? You wanted to do what?!

Quickly, to avoid letting you see his rapidly forming blush, the Wanderer pulled you into his chest in a hug. His head rested on your shoulder, arms encircling your body, and now he couldn't tell if the fluttering in his chest was his own or merely a transmission from you.

He was practically gaping in his shock. No way, there was no way he'd just seen that in your thoughts. It couldn't have been from his own mind, could it? While it was unlikely, he couldn't dismiss the possibility, so he attempted to calm his -or your- racing 'heart'.

After a long while, the equilibrium was broken, and you pulled away from the embrace. The Wanderer, though, held you tight, unwilling to let you go.

It appeared you wanted to stay close as much as he did, because you once again rested your head on his chest, reaching out to fidget with the anemo vision he'd so oddly received. While it was just a hunk of metal and glass, he found it akin to you toying with his very own heart, tantalizing him with your warm perfection.

"Forgive me, dream-wanderer. I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

Your words confused him, and he looked at you with a purely puzzled expression until you straightened up, looked him in the eyes, and-

His own eyes went impossibly wide. Through sheer shock, he felt his chest explode with feelings he'd known before, and others he would never hope to identify. It scared him, it exhilarated him, and most of all it pleased him, far too much. Tears threatened to fall from his own eyes, so he squeezed them shut and redirected his mind to the situation at hand. However fake you thought this was, he didn't care as your lips pressed against his own.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, and he jolted from his daze to bring you back, this time with fervor. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve you. You were everything, all the things he could never be and all the things he wanted, placed into one individual at one point in time. How dare he allow himself this moment of happiness, after no less than three betrayals? As lovely as your touch, your scent, you were, he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve you.

These thoughts plagued his mind even as you pulled away for air, manifesting themselves as tears welling up along his eyes. Damnit, he was really going to cry over something like this?

Yes. Yes he was. But hopefully not right now, if he could help it.

"You need to wake up." The Wanderer prompted, trying to get himself under control.

You sighed, seeming forlorn. "I know. But I just want a little longer with you."

He wanted to reassure you that he'd have you as long as you'd have him, that he would always welcome you into his life - but that would be giving too much away. You could never find out what had truly happened here in your dream.

But oh, would he treasure the memory. The feeling of being so close to you, the elation that took hold of him when you'd kissed him - you had kissed him!

The Wanderer let his arms remain around you as he nuzzled into your neck, unable or unwilling to care about his rather expensive hat tumbling to the ground. Well, it was still technically a dreamscape. Any damage done wouldn't be permanent. So many less than pure thoughts entered his mind the moment he realized this, but he wouldn't allow anything to taint this moment between you two.

Sighing into your neck, he whispered into your ear: "Wake up. Don't be so afraid to lose me; you'll find I'm much closer than you might think." The shiver his proximity pulled from you was satisfying, but he did need you to wake up soon. Any longer in this dream would result in him possibly losing his mind entirely, devoting himself to your affections in a way he long since swore he'd never do for another.

Finally, he allowed himself to slip out of your consciousness, returning to his own body and straightening out his appearance. His body had practically used you as his pillow during his time in your mind, and he was so grateful nobody had come barging in to witness such a thing.

A slight change in breathing patterns alerted him to your awareness as you awoke, eyelids heavy as you tried to take in your surroundings. The Wanderer waited patiently as your eyes traced the patterns in the ceiling, the panes of the window, and eventually came to rest on him. He wanted to brag to the sun and moon themselves that he was the one getting your undivided attention, and wanted to make even the heavens above jealous.

I don't deserve this.

"Hm...?" You made a small, dreary sound, adjusting yourself to the completely unfamiliar surroundings. Almost completely; you would recognize your dear Wanderer anywhere.

"Took you long enough." The Wanderer scoffed, crossing his arms and relaxing his muscles, as if he hadn't been on the edge of his seat and the verge of panic since you'd been afflicted. "Get enough beauty sleep, your highness?"

Though it was meant with sarcastic and snide intentions, the 'pet name' made your breath catch as your stomach was invaded by butterflies. Or was it the toxins? You couldn't be too sure.

"What-" upon hearing your scratchy voice, you paused and cleared your throat, though it didn't solve the problem. The Wanderer was already holding out some water to you, and you took it gratefully. "What happened?"

Well, he supposed he should start at the beginning. "I lost sight of you, and the next time I saw you, you were unconscious on the ground. Do you mind explaining that?" He fused some irritation to his tone, hopefully disguising the genuine worry he'd felt.

"I…" You reached desperately for any strands of remembrance, only to be blocked by a heavy fog over your mind. Frustrated, you let out a groan. "I don't remember! Damnit, I can't remember any of it."

Now that was almost comical. All of that, and you couldn't even remember how it had started? The world really could be a dangerous place, apparently.

With a sigh, the Wanderer took it upon himself to fill in the empty space between then and now. He relayed how he'd found you, how the infamous Tighnari assisted you, and how your treatment had been administered. You remained quiet throughout the story, whether from respect or weariness he wasn't sure.

"He removed the IV and left, saying if we needed further assistance we could ask." He snorted at this. "As if!"

Now you rolled your eyes. "Don't be such an ass. He saved my life, the least you could do is be civil."

"I have been civil, thank you very much." He huffed, offended that you'd even assume he would be anything less than cordial. "Good to see your lack of faith in me is still intact."

Your lack of faith was not unwarranted, though. The story as he told it had been incomplete. Fearing your reaction, fearing your perception of him, he had omitted his exploration of your consciousness entirely. As far as you knew, it was merely a conjured scene from your own imagination, and your feelings remained unrequited and unacknowledged. But that didn't feel fair, did it?

Since when did he care about fairness? Did you really like him, or did you like the version of him you'd constructed in your mind? Not that he'd ever change himself for somebody, he was merely curious.

Good grief. Nobody had advertised just how difficult these cursed things called 'emotions' could be.

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello again! =D

Here's Part 1

*looks at all the remaining screenshots and sighs* I really need to learn to take screenshots more selectively-

Warning: long post 😊😅

This is the sole reason Phum chose to ride the cycle, because we all know he brought his car.

I'm not complaining though. In fact-

Peem, give this man all the hugs in this world. He deserves them. <3

HANDS!!

Aunt Pui Live Reaction

She ships them hehe

She's the best wingaunt 😭🫶🏼

Oh, it's his turn with the braincell finally hehe

Oh, that little kernel of insecurity making him question this :(

And it's Phum's turn to immediately refute any doubt about his feelings.

Oh yeah, telling him all the reasons you like him is the only reason you'll "have" to stay over at his place, Phum. It's not like you wanna cuddle him or anything. Pfft of course not.

Peem's reaction is so cute (no pun intended-) oh gods 😭

This is what told me for sure that Phum knows about Peem's feelings.

The way he framed this, the absolute lack of hesitation in his voice, the way he smiled, the way he looked at Peem.

Just because he doesn't confront Peem about it doesn't mean he doesn't know his feelings are reciprocated.

No wonder Peem's reaction looks so genuine 😭 (Pond improvised this part)

What do you do when the guy you like keeps shrugging off your hand? Keep trying of course! And then lock your hands so he can't shrug them off.

Mission Side-Hug Your Crush: Accomplished 😌✅️

Me:

Wait- WAIT, you're gonna leave the cycle right there in the middle of the driveway?! WHY 🥲😭

👀

Yep, same pic.

The moment I saw this I was like where have I seen this before- OH yeah.

See, now Fang isn't hesitating to call him out on it. Now he knows for sure Phum likes Peem, and it's okay to talk to him about it. But he still doesn't prod much, and only takes what Phum tells him.

In conclusion: Fang is a good brother. 😌

Others: Byee! Have a great time!

Chain: I'll play the guitar for you.

Let's be honest, who's the enabler here? Pun might come up with the strangest most complicated plans, but who's the first to go along with it?

ASKFDGHYTRUASKJNCHDFJ

WHAT WAS THIS KISS?!!!! AND WHY WAS IT TAILOR-MADE TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY?!!!!!

WINNYSTANG. I liked you before but to be very frank, I was kinda indifferent, but now you have my full attention. Make me go even more crazy.

Ooh they have a third brother??

See, up till this point, I was willing to ignore their parents (not what they did, but them as people, because they do not deserve any attention) but this? Stopping Fang from going to check on his brother? NUH UH. That's a line you don't cross.

So now, I'm handing Peem and Tan their weapon(s) of choice and letting them have a go at it. The bodies? Oh, don't worry about that, we'll handle those. :)

What I really love about this scene is that Peem hugs first, then asks questions.

Ah I love hugs so much 🥹🫶🏼

No. They can't.

And similarly, our parents can't always be right. They might always want what's the best for us, but that doesn't mean that what they do is always the best for us.

Also- I'm completely normal about the fact that Phum and Fang went to Peem and Tan - their respective safe zones. Very normal. 🥺

AND THOSE 'I LOVE YOU'S BY TANFANG OH MY GODS I-

I could write a whole essay about just these few minutes (of that PhumPeem hug and this TanFang moment) but I don't have that much time or energy 😭

I'll just go sob in the corner because this entire ep was made to attack my heart with fluff but this scene just broke me.

Also- we finally get actual wind-ruffled hair in BL hehe

Isn't he already Golden Retriever enough? 😭

[Also, at this point my anxiety spiked because I had 7 more screenshots, but I'd already done 25, so tumblr would allow only 5 more 😶😭]

Yes.

Peem finally getting his confidence and sass back! Hehe

That peck had me blinking and then smiling so wide and rewatching those few seconds at least four times.

He says no, and yet his face is tilted and eyes closed and he's all ready to be kissed so sweetly.

You betray yourself, Peem *smh*

HANDS!!!!

The day I stop screaming about hands is my last day on Earth.

This broke my heart, but this hug and Peem's reply put it back together. <33

He-

He said it. While he was awake. 😶

Listen, that nose boop and him telling Phum he'd done a good job the first time changed my brain chemistry so much I collected all the stray strands of my nonexistant giffing skills and made a gif just to put it as my header (replacing that scene from Cherry Magic that I've probably watched a million times now, and had changed me viscerally).

AND THEN THEY GIVE ME THIS.

They're playing table tennis with my heart 🥲

Anyways. Love this scene. So much.

BONUS: I couldn't upload the screenshot of this, but that horse riding scene is so funny to me, because Phuwin is the one who can ride, and Pond's the one a little scared (a little like that roller coaster scene except reversed hehe).

Also "I feel like a prince, riding my horse led by my servant." uh huh. no reference here. just a random line in a random series where the main leads acted in a series previously where one of them was a khun chai and the other worked for him. no reference at all.

Finally!

That's it for ep 12, see y'all next week!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have some pancakes 🥞

All my previous We Are posts.

@inonetoomanyfandoms here's part 2 hehe

[lostinlovingrevery]

HI VANNNNNNN

im sorry you’re not feeling well! :(

side note: i just finished van helsing and it’s SOOOOO good omg. i need that man, highly recommend

also!!! if you feel inspired to write, how about logan taking care of a partner who is sick/rewarding them for hard work/making them rest- something along those lines for you!!

<3

HI CAS-A-SASS

I was going to call you cas a frass as a play of "Sassafrass" (thats a tree btw!) but then I got curious and looked up what frass was and was like yeah I'll go with sass instead.

Yesssss It's awful, I ate some chick fi la and I think it was too greasy and I was sick for like 2-3 hours :( i'm lying in bed now chilling!!! i feel a bit better but oof...Don't think im going to eat out again for awhile.

OMG YES, I think Van Helsing will be on my list of Hugh movies! Ironically, i feel like I may have seen some of it. My dad likes movies like that, fantasy, folk, supernatural, sci-fi, you name it he likes it. He watches so many movies that i've probs seen bits and pieces of everything by now! Also Lex said she thought Van Helsing would be a good hugh match for me once LMAO and I hadn't forgotten that. So OF COURSE i have to see it.

A lil blurb below (turned out longer than i meant)...Totally not based off that time in March when I was sick with a fever the entire work and only got 8 hours of sleep in 3 days to meet my capstone deadline....

"Nooooo!" You whined as you're physically being taken away from your desk. Cradled in Logan's arms, he ignores your complaints that you had work to do, that you can't stop now.

Despite your irate tone, you were melting into his arms anyway- unable to fight out of exhaustion. He could feel how hot you were burning up.

You woke up this morning feeling unwell. He suggested that you stay in bed, at least just for another hour to get some more sleep. You shrugged him off- believing it to be another ploy to keep you in bed; a game that you and him play every morning. This time he was concerned, he could see the way your dragged your feet, the exhausted look under your eyes.

"I got a lot to finish today. Deadlines for both Charles and Scott and I don't need either of them up my ass for it."

He watched you dress in your comfy clothes- the only things you wear when you're sad, sick, tired, or have a day off. You'd deny it if he point it out. His shirt, your favorite sweats, big fluffy socks- and you snatched his sweatshirt on the way out as well.

Every time he checked on you, you were doing your dilligence, tapping away at your computer, filling out papers, pouring through texts and printed out articles. Every time you looked worse and worse. He'd brought you food, tea, water, massaged your shoulders, tried to convince you to take a nap or at least lie down on the sofa in your study. You refused.

Even when he brought out the big guns- kissing on your neck and shoulders. He wasn't really trying to get frisky with you, seeing that you were obviously sick- just anything to distract you and get you away from work,

Even that didn't tear you away. Even in your state. He concludes that your fever must be making you delusional.

Now, after his final attempt- he's taking it into his hands. No longer allowing you to decided, he's taking you to bed and forcing you to sleep.

"Logan-" You sigh. "I'm not even close to being done- Scotts going to-"

"I don't give a shit what Scott, or Xavier gotta say about it. They can deal with me before they open their mouths."

A small smile grew on your lips and you closed your eyes. You didn't want to stop working- you were in a groove. You can rest for a month once things were done but when Logan got like this, you couldn't help but surrender. His attention, care, and the fact that he's got your back, you couldn't help but just let him do what he wants.

He tucked you in bed, prepared you your favorite tea since you left the other untouched. Turned on the tv to your comfort show, even if you were falling asleep in the nest Logan had made for you.

He was going to leave you alone to rest- but your quiet voice called out to him.

"Lo?"

"Yeah baby?"

"can you stay? For a bit?" You ask quietly. His expression softened, and he walked back to bed and climbed onto it.

"Don't even have to ask." He coos, pressing a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm around you and tucking you close.

[strawberrybuni]

GOOD LITTLE GIRL

Pairing: Vampire!Dabi x Fem!Reader Summary: You just can't help but develop feelings for the vampire who's taken interest in you, regardless of his red flags. Word Count: 2K CW: suggestiveness, biting

Most would probably call you stupid, and you’d agree with them. After all, what business did you, a simple human, have with a vampire who could kill you in a second? That’s what you asked yourself every night you venture down that familiar path into the woods where you’ll spend your night as you usually do with him, Dabi, a no good vampire who took what he wanted when he wanted.

You were always taught growing up to stay out of the woods, that creatures of the supernatural lurk within them. You were told horrific tales of people who were gravely injured by these creatures, or just never seen again. They weren’t kind to humans and wanted nothing to do with them. But, there must be exceptions to the rule, right? If there wasn’t, then why did Dabi seem to have taken such an interest in you ever since the night you two met?

Meeting him was completely by accident, as things tend to be. You were only supposed to be a meal for him. Just another girl alone at night going home from work, perfect for the taking. However, when some random man tugged you into an alleyway with ill intentions, he couldn’t stop himself from coming to your rescue, making a meal of the man instead. Of course, he could’ve just killed you right after as well, but for once he didn’t feel the desire to do so. Your scent made his head spin in a way he’s never experienced. So, he let you go. But it was far from the last time you had seen him.

Dabi had tracked you down with your scent, requesting that he let you inside after you had opened the door. “It’s the least you could do for the man who rescued you, doll.” He told you back then. Everything in you told you to not allow him into your home. While yes, he did in fact come to your aid that night, that doesn’t erase the fact of what he is. He’s still a dangerous vampire who could drain you of your blood at any given moment. But, against your better judgment, you let him inside. That was only the first night of many as you got to know him.

He’s a man with a lot of trauma and isn’t exactly the friendliest person on the planet. The most jarring red flag of his is how he hunted humans not just for food, but for sport as well. Draining the life out of a human gives him a power trip that he’s far too addicted to to ever consider stopping. Over time, you came to learn why he despised humans with a passion, and after learning about your past, you can’t really blame him. They’re the reason for his burns.

He was just an innocent child curious about the world and humans. As a kid, he harbored no inherent ill feelings towards humankind. However, the humans he attempted to befriend didn’t feel the same, attempting to burn him alive, calling him a monster. By some miracle, he survived with permanent scarring on his body and a deep rooted hatred for humans.

Yet here he was, feeling anything but hate for his favorite little human.

“Took you long enough, doll. Thought you were gonna forget about me” His smirked as he took a drag from his cigarette, stolen of course. “What took you so long?”

“Believe it or not, Dabs, but I have a life outside of seeing you. Be lucky I come out here to see you twice a week.” You playfully sass as you approach him. “Mm, you should feel lucky I continue to allow you to see me twice a week.” He retorts, blowing a bit of smoke in your face.

You coughed, waving a hand in your face, glaring at him with irritation when he laughs. “If that’s your way of saying you’re gonna kill me, you’re full of shit. You would’ve killed me months ago if you were gonna.” He hums in thought. “Maybe I like playing with my food sometimes, it makes the meal even sweeter.”

He always messes with you like that, taunting you with threats of doing to you as he has done to so many others. You never buy any of it though. He’s never even tried taking a sip of your blood, yet he claims he’s going to take it all one day? Yeah, sure buddy. You weren’t scared of him, and he liked that about you. You were so fearless, so confident, even on the night you met. You put up such a fight, ready to even fight him after he had helped you out. He thought you were cute, interesting, and something new to be addicted to.

He offered his cigarette, taking another drag when you denied his offer as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever. You know, it would be nice if for once you could come to see me instead of me having to venture all the way out here to see you.” You huff, causing him to smirk. “Aww, is the little princess inviting me to her place? So forward, I like it.”

“That is NOT how I meant it.” Your face flushed at his insinuation, what a perv. “You sure about that, princess? We both know you like me.” 

“And what gives you that idea?” You scoffed, feeling your heart rate slowly picking up.

“Well,” He started, dropping his cigarette before rubbing it into the dirt under his boot. “That little blush of yours gives you away fine enough. Even without that, I see the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. The way you bite your lip, or stare for a little too long. I hear the way your heart races if I get close, or..” He trails off, pushing himself off the tree, in the blink of an eye spinning you so that now your back is against it as he cages you in with his body, his head dipping so his mouth is near your ear, his voice dropping to a low tone. “When I speak to you like this. There’s gotta be a reason for it, right? This couldn’t possibly all just be some coincidence, now could it?”

He wasn’t wrong, and you hated that fact. You’ve fallen for him pretty hard, even when you know that he’s bad news. He preyed on your kind 24/7, how could you possibly date someone who wouldn’t bat an eye killing your friends and family? Maybe it was the danger that excited you, the risk giving you an adrenaline rush like nothing else. You just couldn’t help yourself, not with the way he’s worked his way into your heart all while never overstepping his boundaries over these past few months. However, he wanted more.

You tried to think of some sort of rhyme or reason as to why he’s wrong, but you knew him well enough to know he can see directly through you. Lying was something you never could do with him. He always seemed to be able to call your bluff, much to your annoyance. He had just as much of an affect on you as you did him, and it’s causing you to slowly give into him.

“Well?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“And what if I do, huh?” You ask frustrated, masking any signs of shyness with irritation.

“Then that means,” Dabi moves down to your ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. “I’m gonna have to mark up this pretty neck of yours.” If you weren’t blushing before, you sure were now. “Huh?”

He chuckled, pulling back and lifting his head so that he could look down into your eyes. “Come on, dolly, what did you expect? That I’m not gonna put my mark on a pretty little thing like you to show everyone that you’re mine?”

“And when exactly did we establish that I was gonna be yours, huh?” He rolls his eyes a bit at your stubbornness, but then smiles almost politely. “You’re right, my bad, let me ask you the right way.”

One of his hands comes up to your chin as he takes it between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head up slightly. He studies your face for a few moments in silence, his eyes trailing down to your lips. He remains silent as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip. He was only adding to your nerves. You swear he knows exactly what he does to you, that asshole.

His eyes trail back up to look into yours, a smirk gracing his lips before he speaks. “Will you be mine, Y/N?”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it while your mind spins from thoughts flooding your mind. You knew you shouldn’t, you really really shouldn't. That you should just stop seeing him all together. But you just can’t help yourself as you nod, causing his smile to turn into a smirk. You were ready to take on whatever consequences that come from being his.

“Good girl.” He praises, closing the distance between you two as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. Dabi started out slow but passionate, almost sweet in a way. You let him take control as your lips move in harmony with his. You can’t help but melt at the way his other hand slips behind you, caressing your lower back as he presses you closer to him. 

He then presses kisses along your jawline, down to your neck as he begins to kiss and suck on the delicate skin. Your body shudders each time you feel his fangs graze your neck. Even though he has never bitten you, it didn’t stop the occasional thought popping into your head about what it would be like if he did. Would it hurt really bad? Would it feel weird? Would you like it? With the way he's loving on your neck, it was only making you want to get the answers to your questions even more. Just the same way he’s been dying to know what you’ll taste like.

“Can I?” He asks, his lips now hovering over your neck, his sharp fangs teasingly grazing your skin once more. You hummed in approval, but he tutted in response. “Ah ah, pretty girl. Be a good little girl for me and use your words, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah um.. You can bite me, Dabi.” You stutter out shyly, your mind and heart completely mush from his words.

“That’s it.. atta girl, you’re so good for me, ya know that?” He places a kiss on your neck before gently sinking his fangs into your flesh.

You’re sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted. Just one taste and he already feels like he could get drunk off you. As for you, his bite stung at first, but with the way he’s sucking on your neck, all you feel is pleasure. Small whimpers began to fall from your lips as he drank from you, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. A sort of possessiveness was beginning to course through his veins from your sounds, you driving him insane.

He finishes drinking from you, licking the excess blood before placing a tender kiss on the bite mark. “You did so well for me, doll.. such a pretty little thing.” He murmurs, inhaling your scent for a moment before pulling back and standing up right, cleaning off any blood from his lips with the back of his hand, feeling a sense of pride seeing his bite mark on you. “So beautiful.. Why don’t I take you on a proper date tomorrow, hm? We can’t do normal human things, but I sure as hell can show you a good time.”

“I’d love that.” You smile. You knew this isn’t going to be an easy relationship by any definition of the word. It’s going to be complicated with plenty of obstacles you two will have to work around. But you’re more than willing to try and make this work. 

“Oh, and doll? Maybe I will start coming to your place instead. So we can be more.. comfortable with some privacy.” He smirks, laughing as you hit his chest with a whine at his comment. “What?? That’s what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” He teases.

Oh yeah, he’s going to be the death of you, one way or another.

[artzzyb00-27]

Buck's Baby Deer

Buck has a daughter AU. You all love it. I know you do. Anyway her name is Calliope Buckley. And she's four years old. This takes place Post-Lawsuit(our favorite). Pretend the loft has two bedrooms, please. Jealous Eddie, of a male friend of Buck's who is flirty with everyone. So all in all, good fun. Might make a part two to this, but not immediately taking place after.

If you had told Buck that he would've ended up straining his relationship with the 118 more. He never would have officiated the lawsuit. Considered it, yes. He had a kid to think about.

Calliope Buckley. Buck's pride and joy. Truly, she was a sweet kid. She was smart, which she got from her mom, and had sass to her which came from Buck.

The swearing came from her staying up late without Buck knowing and watching what he was watching secretly. Rick and Morty is the favorite. Of course, she got grounded, but hey at least she never whines when she gets punished. Due to it happening often, and never being extreme punishments.

Also, she only does small things, like drawing on the wall. So then she can't have her crayons and markers for a week. Till she started with black pens, which artistically impressed Buck, and gave her stuff back.

Her mom? Well to put it simply, she didn't want kids. Well not yet. She didn't feel ready, but she told Buck because she knew how much he wanted his own family. She said she'd go through the pregnancy for him, but after that, they were done. Buck was heartbroken, but it was healed with a tiny baby with a birthmark running across their nose.

Reckless Buck had been mainly a ploy, yeah Abby had been a thing, and Ali had loved Calliope, but Calliope never liked the women that came. So after Taylor, he stopped dating.

Which, yeah probably got rid of free babysitter but he had Carla. Who swore to not tell anyone about Callie. That's how he ended up at the store that day. He needed to go buy kid snacks and nutritional values. And he picked up some cat stuff for his neighbor Caleb.

He had forgotten the 118 showed up there to get their supplies. It slipped his mind, especially with a hungry four-year-old wandering around inside because she saw Nemo flavored Oreos posters outside and couldn't help but run in to look for them. 

"Because you're exhausting! We all have our own problems but you don't see us whining about it. Somehow we just manage to suck it up." Eddie yelled at him, that he was exhausting. It made him freeze. For one, the guy he liked, maybe even loved, hated him. Two, his daughter was around and he didn't want her to hear this. Especially cause it was true. At least to Buck, it was. Caleb had been great at making sure he knew how much he mattered.

But sometimes no matter how hard you helped, the brain would hotwire itself to not listen. His ears were ringing. Breathing was shaky and suddenly something exploded behind them. They ran out. Callie.

He grabbed her, grabbed the cookies, paid, and got the hell out of there. When Mackey told him they won and that the fire department wanted to give him 5.6 million dollars. He refused. He already had money from Callie's mom. Who was stupid rich, and gave him extra money than he needed for child support. How did Bobby and Maddie not know about this? Well it was in the files that weren't allowed to be shown to everyone, and Maddie hadn't probed questions at him while she was with Doug.

Callie's grandparents(maternal) were godsends. When he was too busy to make a flight for Callie, they would come and visit from Michigan. Good ole Harold and Ellie. Old but sturdy. Kind yet honest. Heart driven, yet logical.

When he denied the settlement,  Chiefs Williams and Alfonso had called him in. Asking why he didn't take it. When he explained the lawsuit from his perspective, they told him they'd make Bobby let him back in. He agreed, only on the terms that no one got fired. He knew what Bobby did wasn't professional, but he didn't want the man to lose his job.

He had already given up on the idea of having his family back immediately. But that didn't matter. He needed money. He couldn't rely on others for it too much.

And he damn well wasn't going to get it from a settlement. He felt sick at the thought. So when he returned to work. He sucked up the way he was being treated.

Wasn't easy at first, but he'd been treated like this for most of his life. So he got used to it quickly. Callie was keeping him going, making sure to get up in the morning and to make food. For the both of them, because despite being young, Callie was an observant kid. Hen too, but she'd tried to keep the peace on both sides.

Guess the secret couldn't be kept any longer, as he was on a twelve-hour shift when Caleb called.

"Caleb?" He had been cleaning the kitchen counter. The 118 was dispersed everywhere throughout the station, but Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Bobby were in the dining area nearby.

Looking over, Eddie frowned his eyebrows. Who the hell was Caleb?

"Slow down-,... Shit. I'm on my way."  Buck hung up the call and sped walked to Bobby. "I'm so sorry Cap, but I need to leave. Family emergency."

"What? Maddie didn't call." Chim said confused. Buck just rolled his eyes and continued talking. Taking the others aback.

"No, not Maddie, but someone who is family to me needs help and I can't wait around. Besides I only have thirty minutes left."

Contemplating for a brief minute, Bobby gave him the go-ahead. Giving his boss thanks, he ran downstairs, grabbed his duffle, and ran out. Didn't even bother changing out.

"Who'd you think needed help? I didn't even know he had other friends outside of us." Hen's questioning made Eddie and Bobby think. Had Buck ever mentioned anyone he knew outside of work?

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

Heading to the hospital had been teasingly slow. Buck didn't know what exactly happened, but his daughter was there and needed a cast.

When he got there, he saw Caleb's car in the front. Luckily there was a spot next to it so he just parked there. Running in, he saw Caleb pacing around the waiting room. This guy is the guardian angel of his daughter.

"Caleb! What the hell happened?" Buck asked running up to his new best friend. Eddie had been demoted recently, which hurt Buck more than when he admitted to himself that he was in love with the man. Wasn't that hard of a realization as Caleb was studying to be a therapist and became a free one for Buck. He was gonna be great for younger kids.

"I'm so sorry, we were at the park and she was climbing the monkey bars like usual but some kids ran underneath her. I think she freaked and let go. She broke her list when she landed. I'm so sorry, Buck." Pulling the smaller man into a hug, Buck thanked him.

"You, confident Caleb, is worried? Relax, you did the right thing. Nothing worse happened so she's going to be okay. She's a tough nut to crack remember?"

"Yeah, she didn't fuss except when we were driving on our way to the hospital. Pulled out my phone to call you but she told me not to because it, 'Wasn't a big deal.'" Yup, his daughter all right. At that moment, the doctor came out.

"Family of Calliope Buckley." Both of the men walked up to her. "She's a brave and happy girl. She insisted on a cast with monster trucks on it." Chuckling softly, Buck just imagined his baby girl talking to the doctor casually as they were adjusting her broken wrist to fit into the cast.

"Yeah, that- that's Callie. My little warrior." Smiling at Buck the doctor extended out a hand. "I'm Callie's father by the way. Caleb is her godfather." The doctor smiled and read over her clipboard telling them what kind of pain meds she would need. Caleb, however, wasn't exactly listening. Godfather. Holy shit.

After the doctor told them she could have one of them go in, he gave Buck the go-ahead. They'd talk later, right now his friend needed to see his goddaughter. Damn, that feels good to say.

After a few minutes of waiting, the Buckleys walked out and Buck handed Callie off to Caleb to go check out. Walking out with the kid towards their cars he swung her around a bit, placed her on top of his hood, and just let her play games on his phone. She was good at Clash of Clans for a six-year-old.

When Buck walked out of the hospital, Caleb saw him look around to check for cars and when he turned right he froze. Then speed walked toward his daughter and best friend. Still half watching Callie, Caleb put her in the back seat of Bucks jeep.

"What happened?" He asked with Callies door still open. Her seat was always right behind Bucks. She liked being a tailgunner for some reason.

"The 118s here." Not wanting to look suspicious, Caleb pulled Buck into a hug with his eyes closed. Then when he opened his eyes as he was about to let go, he locked eyes with one of them. A relatively smaller guy who had brown hair and tanned skin. He looked confused. Mad? Who knows, but it wasn't happy.

"We'll talk about it later. Right now, this little fighter needs an ice cream." Callie shot out of her seat and yelled out.

"Fuck yeah!" Throwing their heads back, slightly looking around for parents who thought they were better, Caleb and Buck laughed at the six-year-old. Shaking his head, Caleb shriveled her hair and practiced his handshake with Buck. Then went into his pickup and drove off. Buck settled Callie down and told her to sit down. She did so immediately, already deciding what three flavors she could mix up conveniently.

Closing her door, Buck opened his door and drove off to the small ice cream business near his apartment to get their usuals for him and his small family. Meanwhile, the 118, specifically Eddie, watched him drive away.

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

Watching Buck drive away with a kid was strange. Watching Buck with another man and kid, was even more strange. Was that Caleb? And who the hell was that kid Buck had in the back seat? After that, he decided to confront Buck about it next shift but then realized that Buck wouldn't be at work for another three days.

When he came to work the next morning, he noticed the small tension because no one could ask about what the hell they saw yesterday at the hospital parking lot. So they waited. And when the time came, Bobby said they were gonna have Bosko take over for Buck.

"He's on paid family leave." He explained but wouldn't go into detail.

"Why?" Eddie asked. Maddie wasn't hurt, or Chimney would be gone as well.

"Can't say. He told me not to. Leave it at that." For some reason, Bobby looked apprehensive. Which made Eddie more frustrated. He'd already dropped the street fighting. He didn't want to see Lena right now. So that's how he somehow found himself sitting in his car. In front of Buck's apartment building.

He hadn't decided if he wanted to go in, yet he was sitting out here like a stalker. In the end, he walked into the elevator and walked towards Buck's apartment. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

After what felt like the longest minutes, Eddie heard the door unlocking. His heart beating in his chest, preparing to face whatever was behind that door. Then it opened. It wasn't Buck opening the door no. But a guy slightly taller than Eddie, with darker skin, side shaves, and braids that went over the top of his head. He had muscle and yet looked so meek. Slight stubble and a scar on his right eyebrow.

"Can I help you hermoso?" His accent seemed Dominican. Shook, Eddie froze, till he heard a familiar voice.

"Eddie?" Behind the beautiful man blocking Eddie, was Buck. In a hoodie with basketball shorts and sneakers. The hoodie was not baggy, as it clung to Bucks biceps making it look like it was about to rip. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I thought you were alone."

"Daddy? Who's that?" A little girl behind both of the men walked out of the hall from the spare room. Okay, what the fuck? Eddie thought as he stumbled slightly and opted to leave. Buck followed him down the hall closing the door, leaving Caleb to distract Callie.

"Eddie! Eddie! You can't just show up, a-and not explain why you're here randomly at 3 p.m.." Buck said after pulling Eddie to a stop with a firm hand on the shoulder. Eddie spun around breathing rapidly.

"Me? Me not explain!? You have a kid that none of us know about!"

"Why does it matter?! You've done a really good job at pretending I'm not there at work." Not wanting a repeat of the grocery store, Buck left to go inside and left Eddie frozen in the apartment complex hallway. Unconsciously doing the same thing the older man had done to him.

Finding his way, Eddie headed home to his son. Who was playing online with his friends, so it gave Eddie an excuse to lie down on his bed. Staring up at his ceiling, Eddie contemplates back. To when he first met Buck. Then to the fire truck bombing and the backyard incident at Athena and Bobby's place. It had scared him so much that he had initially agreed with the idea of Buck staying away from the 118. Hell, the whole fire department.

But when he filed that stupid lawsuit, it hurt worse to have Buck out of reach. Then he came back. And Eddie did not want to talk to him. Despite his heart longing to and making it break every time he snarked at anything Buck said or did in his general vicinity. He was angry at Buck but hated himself for being angry at Buck. The street fighting had started as a good outlet to let out the anger. But it went too far, and he blamed Buck for not being there when he needed someone to bail him out.

Now it turns out he has a family. A daughter, he had said he'd be better at raising girls than boys, and a man who looked like the perfect,... husband? Buck never talked about sexuality. Sexual innuendos yeah, but anything else no. But that didn't make sense because he had dated a woman while working at the 118. Unless it was recent. Then that Caleb guy was most likely his boyfriend.

That absolutely didn't sting.

Eddie was his best friend and yet he didn't know Buck's sexuality. Except,.. they hadn't acted like best friends had they? They(Eddie) haven't talked about the lawsuit properly and how it affected everyone(them).

Thinking back to the little girl at the apartment, Eddie couldn't help the small fond look that formed on his face. She was definitely Buck's. Seeing as the blonde curly hair and birthmark over the nose didn't give it away, she had the specific head tilt and eyebrow raise Buck had when he asked questions before going down a rabbit hole of information.

The fond expression quickly vanished as he remembered her arm. She had a cast on. That explained Buck's Paid Family Leave. Eddie could agree with Buck on this one, kids come first.

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

After the Eddie pop-up two weeks ago, came Hen and Karen. Caleb was babysitting his goddaughter when knocking from Buck's apartment three doors down was heard. Repeated knocking. Sighing, Caleb threw the hand towel he was using to wipe down the island of his kitchen over his shoulder and told Callie to stay in her playroom.

Peeking out into the hallway, Caleb saw two black women waiting in front of Buck's door. His Bob Marley Vinyl could be heard from outside, so it drew their attention.

"He's not home. He'll be back in thirty minutes." They nodded and looked back at the door. Then he walked up to him.

"Hey there, I'm Hen. This is my wife Karen." Hen greeted shaking Caleb's hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"Always glad to meet beautiful faces, I'm Caleb by the way. I'm Bucks best friend." Hen and Karen gained shocked looks at different things. They gave each other a look that Caleb couldn't describe and thanked him while walking down to the lobby of that floor.

Caleb could've sworn he heard, 'Eddie's not gonna like this.', but who cares. Callie wanted Neapolitan, and she was gonna have it goddammit. After thirty-five minutes, Caleb counted, Buck opened the door and joined them for ice cream.

After they finished, they stood up and got ready to relax in their apartments separately. When Callie went in she bolted towards her room to catch up on homework she had procrastinated on accident. She had a bad memory and would forget about when to do things.

"Oh yeah, these women came by earlier. They said they were Hen and Karen?" Buck's eye widened. Then his eyebrows furrowed slightly in thought.

"They're friends through work. Why'd they come here?"

"Not sure, but they weren't happy about me saying I was your best friend. They said Eddie wouldn't be happy." Weird, they said goodbye and continued their normal weekend routine like normal. With Buck being off work for a bit and Caleb off at his work as a mechanic for big trucks, Buck decided to take Callie to the mall. She loved Hot Topic, especially with all the new pins and Bluey merch Buck told her they got.

He wanted the anime and Coraline merch they had. When they got there, they quickly went to Barnes & Noble for a gift card for Caleb's birthday and to look for Vinyls that they wanted. They ended up getting one from Bob Marley and a CD from multiple oldies artists. Callie had gotten a CD player for her birthday a few weeks back so it was perfect timing.

Though she did like her dad's music, she wanted her favorites that she had heard from Buck's Spotify and put on a special playlist for her. Heading to Hot Topic, they browsed the store together. They found some cool earrings that were based on space that Callie liked. So Buck got the punk leather bracelet pack to get another piece of jewelry for half off.

Once leaving the store, they went to the food court and ordered a pizza for the two of them. Pepperoni on one half and sausage and olives on the other. Buck got his pizza whilst Callie ate her olives individually before eating the slices. A habit that she developed from when she was a baby. Olives were always eaten separately.

After they were finished, they put the tray on the stand above the trash can and then left to go back home. Getting boba on the way though. Callie claimed that her stomach needed some liquid to calm the food in her stomach.

They got out of the car, ordered, and sat at the tables outside to enjoy the warm sun cascading down. This made everything worth it to Buck, all it was missing was,... well.

"Buck?" Hearing that voice in particular made his heart beat fast. Whether from fear or feelings. Either way, he didn't want to deal with this. "And little girl."

"Who you calling little?"

"H-Hey now, Callie, remember what I told you?" Sighing, the sassy child responded.

"'Not to speak disrespectfully to anyone you don't know.' She had used a deeper voice to repeat her father's words. "I know, I'll try to be better."

"I know." Buck's gentle reply did something to Eddie that he wasn't ready to admit yet. Turning back to Eddie, Buck asked him why he was there.

"I came to pick up and order Chim did online for us. Didn't know you'd be here, I swear." Buck just said it was fine and to ignore it. But Eddie couldn't. He went inside, grabbed the five drinks, and walked back to his truck. He placed the drinks in the passenger seat momentarily before walking back to the father-daughter duo. "Look, I know you probably don't want to talk to me after what happened at your apartment, but I need to get something off my chest."

"Is it about that overused grey shirt that's probably been through more flannels than you have relationships?"

"Callie."

"I said I'd try to be better."

Dang, Callie had some attitude. It was oddly loveable. Hearing Buck sigh and seeing him get up gave Eddie the go-ahead to speak.

"You were right. I wasn't there for you after the truck ladder. I didn't try to understand the lawsuit or your side of the story. Hell, I did the opposite and indulged in street fighting." A look from Buck made him feel smaller than he already was. "I stopped, don't worry. Anyway,... I messed up. We all did. But especially me. I promised I'd have your back and I didn't. And I swear that right here right now, if you're willing to let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. Calling you exhausting was the worst thing I could have done. Especially because it's not true, you've helped me out a lot with Christopher. And you were taking care of your daughter to add to everything else! I'm not asking for forgiveness but I am offering it to you. And even if you don't want to, I want you and Christopher to be able to hang out again. I want Christopher and your daughter to properly meet and for your boyfriend-"

"Boyfriend? Caleb's my best friend, not boyfriend." Oh. That hurt a little less than Eddie thought it would.

"Oh, well, good to know. And for you. Buck, you deserve someone who will be there for you. Platonic or not. Assuming that Maddie doesn't know yet, I won't say anything to the others about her." With that, Eddie began to walk off. Till a hand got placed on his shoulder.

"I don't forgive you yet. But I'd like to try." Letting out a sigh of relief, Eddie nodded and drove off. Quickly wiping his tears before getting out of his truck and walking inside Bobby and Athena's house. It was a start.

If he wanted his friend back, he'd have to work for it. He'd die for Buck. He'd make that clear.

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

The day after the boba apology, Buck had considered introducing Callie to the 118. Only his close friends. With Caleb there for support. And to officially introduce him as the godfather to Callie. He didn't want to make anything official yet though. He wanted to get her opinion first.

"Okay." Easier than he thought.

"You sure kiddo? You've only heard stories about them." Calliope was mature for her age, but she was still a kid. He didn't want to force her into something that would make her uncomfortable.

"I mean, I'm not happy it took this long. Especially if I can have friends after school." Buck hadn't let her have friends come over from her school. The only reason was he didn't want his parents being bitchy or weird towards him and Carla about why he didn't stay home. Or why the mom wasn't around. "But Pops told me that sometimes people take time to adjust to changes. Like how I had to get used to wearing normal shoes and not light-ups all the time."

Buck didn't think he deserved her, but Caleb and Carla had reinforced multiple times that they weren't one without the other.

"Alright. I'll tell them to come over tomorrow. Is that fine?" With a small head nod, he shot a text to the group chat and one separate to Eddie. Saying to bring Chris to keep Callie comfortable. He then went over to Caleb's with Callie and spent the afternoon there.

After sending the text messages, ten minutes later Buck's phone started going off. With responses to the invitation to his apartment. They all had accepted.

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

118🚒

Hen:

Sure, got nothing going on

Tried swinging by earlier and you weren't there

Chim:

Down to go, wanna bring Maddie

 Is that okay?

Buck: 

Yeah that's fine

Bobby: 

I'll be there, Athena will be too

Hen:

Karen will be working so I'm flying solo tmr

Eddie:

I'll be there

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

Eddie

Hey thanks for the invite, Chris will be there too

Good to know, I was thinking of making pasta or ordering

Just order pizzas, we'll be fine

Alright, see you tmr

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

A few minutes after the pizzas arrived, so did their visitors. Callie claimed that she had to make a good impression on Athena. So Buck styled her hair in Dutch braids and put on her best green shoes paired with her black overalls and striped yellow shirt.

She set out a LEGO box of Hogwarts on the coffee table for her and Chris to build together while the adults talked. When knocking was heard at the door, Callie and Buck got ready to receive them. All of them arrived near the same time so they decided to walk in together.

Taking a deep breath, Buck opened the door and smiled at them. However, their attention was quickly drawn to a young girl's voice yelling.

"Surprise bitches!" Callie was doing a dramatic pose whilst wearing sunglasses that Buck had bought a while back. They looked comically huge but somehow they went with the outfit. As they walked in, they all had shocked faces. Except Bobby, Athena, and Eddie. Caleb was still in his place fixing something with his sink.

"Guys, meet Calliope Buckley. My daughter of six years old." Maddie looked distraught yet enamored. Hen looked like she wanted to kill Buck but hugged the hell out of Callie. Chris was shaking with excitement. Chim was looking between father and daughter. Probably making comparisons in his head. Athena was smiling with a fond look in her eyes.

Bobby had probably told Athena about her already, which was fine, but the look Bobby had was heartwarming. Eddie had a small smile on his face and glanced at Buck.

"What?" Maddie asked looking to Buck for answers. But before he could answer, Callie began chatting with Chris.

"Hi, I'm Callie."

"I'm Chris."

"Wanna build a LEGO Hogwarts?"

"YEAH!"

As the kids walked away and sat at the coffee table, Buck led the adults away as best he could from the kids.

"Questions and theories, I know. But right now, have some pizza." So they did, and while they were serving, Caleb walked in.

"Hey lovely's. How's it going?"

"About to explain." They all looked at him to continue and not leave them on edge. Breathing in a sigh, he started talking. "A few years back, I met a girl. She was sweet and cool and I thought we had something special. Then, she got pregnant and she explained to me that she didn't want kids. I respected it and decided to break it off. She had Callie because she knew how much I wanted kids. I was a teen dad by technicality. Callie's grandparents took care of her while I lived with my mom and dad. After I got my job here, I was able to have her move in with me." Waiting for it to register in their heads, he silently let them ask questions. Then Chim raised his head.

"So, who's mom?"

"Penelope Smith. She has a master's in medicine and is a practitioner for athletes specifically. She sends me money when she can. Doesn't mean I don't have to work though."

"Grandparents are sweet. They come to visit from Michigan when they can." At Maddie's eyebrow raised Buck explained further.

"After having Callie, they moved to Michigan for Pen's college and to raise Callie in a more communal area. Meanwhile, I went off to travel. Mainly to get my parents off my ass. I didn't want to at first but Harold and Ellie told me to go for it."

"Nah, Harold practically dragged you into that Jeep." Laughing at the memory the 118 smiled at the pair. Eddie too, his was just dimmed slightly.

Running into the kitchen, Callie looked up at Buck.

"Can we get our slices? Me and Chris want to multitask." Earning smiles from everyone in the kitchen, Buck got four slices and put two on each plate. He turned around and sighed at his family.

"Who's hungry?"

[underworld-park-offical]

GREGORY: Ugh

GREGORY: That one girls hair looked so ugly

GREGORY: It didn't match her clothes at all

GREGORY: I can just tell  she’s related to Craig_The_Real_Tucker

ESTELLA: Gregory!! Do NOT be rude!

GREGORY: What!?! I’m just saying!

ESTELLA: They are just children!

GREGORY: So? Children can be ugly as fuck, too!

ESTELLA: Gregory. Don’t make me do the count

GREGORY: Yes, ma'am...

ESTELLA: Well, we cannot discuss anything until Phillip, Tweek and Thomas are back

GREGORY: Ugh, seriously?

ESTELLA: You know our "nobody left behind policy", Gregory!

GREGORY: So what are we supposed  to do?

ESTELLA: I suppose we shall have to wait

GREGORY: Hell no

ESTELLA: Language, Gregory!

GREGORY: I’m looking around for something to do

GREGORY: Ugh, there's a drawer full of Supreme hoodies

GREGORY: No way in the seven layers of hell will I ever put these disgraces of fashion on him

ESTELLA: Language!

GREGORY: Hell  isn't a curse word, Madame Estella

ESTELLA: It very much so is

GREGORY: This is still not going on him, no matter your insistence.

ESTELLA: He needs warmth Gregory

GREGORY: There's always the option of burning these.

ESTELLA: Quit it!

GREGORY: (scoff)

GREGORY: It doesn’t even suit him well in this lighting anyway

GREGORY: The white barely complements anything

ESTELLA: Young man, i mean it

ESTELLA: Knock. It. Off.

GREGORY: Alright, I suppose no more nitpicking for me…

GREGORY: This will unfortunately have to do…

ESTELLA: While we’re here we may as well close this portal up

GREGORY: Why??

ESTELLA: So no other demons wander and get hurt, of course!

GREGORY: Oh you and your safety

ESTELLA: I don't want the parents of these implings to start worrying if their child goes missing!

ESTELLA: Would you mind giving me a hand?

ESTELLA: I can’t exactly do this type of magic by myself

GREGORY: No!

ESTELLA: Gregory, I'm not asking you, I'm telling  you!

GREGORY: I’M NOT DOING JACK SHIT I JUST GOT MY NAILS DONE!!!

ESTELLA: LANGUAGE!!!!

ESTELLA: WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE GROUNDED TOO?!?! GREGORY: WE ARE THE SAME AGE YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY OVER ME

ESTELLA: OH YES I DO!! DON’T THINK I WON'T GO THROUGH YOUR INSTAGRAM DRAFTS

GREGORY: YOU WOULDN’T ESTELLA: I VERY MUCH SO WOULD. GREGORY: UGH! FINE! I'LL HELP!!

GREGORY: BUT I AM NOT STANDING!

ESTELLA: Thank you!

GREGORY: (scoff)

GREGORY: (eyeroll)

GREGORY: …?

GREGORY: Oh ho ho! NOW we’re talking!

ESTELLA: Gregory, what are you giggling about?

GREGORY: Ohhhh nothing~

ESTELLA: If you so much as BREATHE on that lap top young man, the last thing that you will be seeing is my sandal

GREGORY: I never said I was going to touch it!

ESTELLA: Well I can tell you were! No electronics until you help me fix this!

GREGORY: Yes ma’am…

ESTELLA: Although…. I suppose you have  been very good up until now…

ESTELLA: If you say that you’re sorry for the way that you acted, I allow you to go on the computer until I need you

ESTELLA: But you HAVE to mean it!

ESTELLA: No sarcasm!

GREGORY: Right, right,

GREGORY: I want to apologize to you for what I did, it was VERY wrong and I am VERY sorry

GREGORY: I just would like to move on and lead a normal life, you know?

GREGORY: Get a job, a husband, and change my ways.

GREGORY: I hope this apology impresses you, even though you made me do it and I don’t actually mean it.

ESTELLA: You mean you do mean it?

GREGORY: I mean i do mean it

ESTELLA: Hmmm…..

ESTELLA: I suppose that will do

ESTELLA: Go on, then,

ESTELLA: I'll let you know when you're needed

ESTELLA: Do not give me sass when I need you, either, or else you won't have ANY computer time!

GREGORY: Hooray! Thank you, Estella!

GREGORY: Time to scroll through Instagram reels and hate myself!

(Images edited by @pissblanket)

[petertingle-yipyip]

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season 3 Epilogue - All I Wanted

tags: @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory @americaarse @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwweee // finale // masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Livia Yersova

Word Count: 5,052

Summary: Speaking from the heart, a good man is laid to rest and good friends are reunited. Plans for the future are scribbled on a new napkin and everything seems like it’ll be okay.

It took a few days for everything to be ready for Father Lantom’s funeral. Leading up to that, everything felt heavy. You had a few meetings at the bureau to discuss your future with the agency, your involvement with the case against Fisk, and the charges being brought against Dex. You were updated on his condition, to which you had to give final consent for the experimental treatment he wanted given you were the only emergency contact he had left, and they asked you to fill the gaps in the timeline. But you couldn’t give much without putting your own secret out so you lied, as usual.

You spoke of getting out of your contract, hoping it would be just cause to release you from obligation. The caveat to that was your involvement in the case against Billy for the assaults against you and Dinah. Instead, you agreed to an extended paid leave. 

The only thing left was to update your friends on what you would do from there. After Father Lantom’s funeral, of course.

You and Matt walked together, neither saying much besides some small talk. He was dragging with the weight of the coming event but also there was a lightness to him. To finally be rid of the internal battle between himself and the Devil, he was truly Matt Murdock again. He felt like the man you fell in love with, the man you knew in college that made you feel alive. And it made you happy to know he was back.

But there was also uncertainty. You could feel the hesitation in his touch when he took your arm, the pauses between his words drew longer with each sentence. He didn’t know where you two stood with each other and truthfully, neither did you.

“You need to talk to her.” You said gently as you two entered the church with you offering sad smiles to the nuns you passed who nodded in your direction.

“Who?” Matt asked after a deep breath to steady himself.

You knew entering that building was tough for you, the memory of that night clawing to the surface of your brain, but for Matt.. You could only assume it was that much worse.

“Sister Maggie…” You answered quietly as you continued to lead him downstairs.

“I don’t even know what I'd say to her.”

You shrugged a shoulder but noticed he wasn’t resisting your lead.

“You usually figure it out.”

He chuckled slightly but said nothing while you two descended the stairs to his previous dwelling. Sister Maggie was already there, a chilled sadness filling the space around her. You offered a gentle smile and she returned the gesture.

Everything was quiet for a few moments before you nudged Matt with your elbow. He sighed before he finally spoke.

“Last time we spoke, I confronted Father Lantom.” He began and you pulled your arm away gently to fold them behind your back. “I was angry.. I’d change that if I could.”

“If God allowed that, there’d be no future.” Maggie answered. “Just people endlessly rewriting the past.”

“There’s a few things I’d like to rewrite.” You muttered with a small raise of your brows and you felt Matt give a gentle pat to your arm. “Then again… I probably wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Yeah, I think he was trying to tell me that for a long time… His last words were ‘Forgive us.’ .”

“Do you?” You put a hand on his arm and his hand instantly came up to cover yours. “Or do you think you could, at some point?”

An awkward silence filled the space between you all and Maggie offered you a look that portrayed that Matt’s response was what she expected.

“He told me something, years ago, when this happened-“ He used his other hand to gesture to his glasses and you noticed he hadn’t taken the hand off yours, nor did he take your hand off him. “-that I never forgot.”

“See, I was pretty angry at God and bitter towards his world.” Matt continued and you nodded in agreement. You’d been mad at God on your own plenty of times growing up. You took your hand off Matt’s arm as he continued talking and moved to his other side, where his fingers found a way to hook around yours again. “How could a loving God blind me? Why?”

That reminded you of your own challenges against the alleged loving man in the clouds.

“Anyway, he told me God’s plan is like a beautiful tapestry. And the tragedy of being human is that we only get to see it from the back.”

“The frayed and messy stitches, muddled colors.” You added, drawing both of their attention. “He told me the same thing once, out on that bench after Midland. Said we only get to see a piece of it and it’s not even the best part.”

Matt smiled slightly at you and you weren’t sure if it was because Lantom had shared the same advice with you that he had shared with a younger him or if it was because you remembered it. 

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded before returning to his point. “And I’ve been thinking about that a lot recently because I realized I’ve made some bad choices and hurt people I love without meaning to.”

His fingers squeezed yours and you smiled softly before leaning against his arm.

“You don’t always know when you start down a false path.” Maggie offered gently.

“No, you don’t, and that’s my point.” Matt agreed. “I realized that if my life had turned out any differently, I would never have become Daredevil…”

“Sounds remarkably familiar.” You teased with a small smile.

“But I think your point was about your other vigilante potential boyfriend.” Matt answered with the same tone and you had to laugh.

“It was really about the fact that I might not have wound up here with you if my life had been different.” You corrected.

“Yeah, okay.” He smiled with a nod. “Anyways, even though people have died on our watch, people who shouldn’t have, there are countless others that have lived… So maybe it is all part of God’s plan. Maybe my life has been exactly as it had to be.”

“You have a generous heart, Matthew.” Maggie said softly, despite being near tears. “To see good in so much pain.”

“Not always… In fact, Father Lantom used to help me with that. Help me see the error in my ways.”

“And there’s been plenty.” You joked, earning a small laugh from them both. “Father Lantom really was good at that, even got through to me a couple times.”

“And you’re worse than me.” Matt added with a small smile, which got him a small smack to his arm. “But y’know.. I could use someone else to help me with that now.” He turned back to Maggie.

“Isn’t that what she’s for?” She nodded to you.

“I’m not exactly the most calibrated moral compass.” You confessed. “Regardless of me and my impact, he needs you.”

“I am a nun after all, Matthew.” She smiled at him. “Helping is what I was called to do.”

He turned towards the sun and took a deep breath, letting go of a lot of tension on the exhale. You saw his eyes close behind his glasses and you smiled to yourself. That was the moment he needed, to have time - even just a second - to relax and find his stability. 

“Alivia.” Maggie spoke gently, though you were so lost in your thoughts it made you jump. “I was hoping you could speak at the funeral as well.”

“Me?” Your brows raised as Matt turned to you. “I don’t think-“

“I think you should.” Matt spoke gently. “He was there for you when I wasn’t and I think he’d want you to.”

“I don’t have anything prepared.” You tried to reason.

“Just speak from your heart.” Maggie countered calmly. “I know you can string together something lovely.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “It’d be an honor.”

She smiled softly before patting you both on the arm on her way up the stairs. You gave Matt’s hand a small tug and tried to follow her up, but he pulled you back to him. 

“You okay?” You asked carefully.

“I just..” He said, thumb running along your knuckles. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Is it something that can wait a little while?” You tried. “There’s a bunch of people upstairs for the funeral.”

“I just want to know-“

“Matt.”

“-if you and I are-“

“Matt.”

“-gonna be back to-“

“Matthew.”

“What?”

“Stop.” You laughed slightly and put your hands on both of his shoulders. “As of this moment, I don’t know because I’m not worried about figuring all this out. I will be more than happy to talk to you about everything later. Okay?”

He nodded with a small smile before he offered you his arm. You two walked up in awkward silence and took your seats beside your friends. Foggy reached across to give your hand a small squeeze and Karen patted your arm. You gave them a nod in response.

The room was full of grief but also love. Everyone in that room had been impacted by Father Lantom in some way, whether it be directly or indirectly. And everyone came to show that he was appreciated. It even made your own chest warm to feel.

You walked with Matt to the podium and he offered to speak first. You joked for him not to make it too good of a speech because you’ll have to follow it and he chuckled quietly. You noticed he had leaned in, as if to kiss your forehead as he usually would, but he stopped himself.

He shifted awkwardly at the podium and you could tell he was struggling to find the will to start.

You sighed to yourself and moved to stand beside him. You put a hand on his back and he turned to face you for a moment.

“You’re okay.” You said quietly and his hand landed on your hip for a moment. He nodded quickly and then faced the crowd again.

“It feels like half of Hell’s Kitchen is here today to say goodbye to Father Paul Lantom…” He began, his voice as strong and calm as it could be. You smiled to yourself and were really hit with a reminder of why you fell for him. “Seems fair. He certainly welcomed everyone here, Catholic or not. And he expected those of us that were to look for ways to do good in our community. Not even the kids got out of that requirement.. I’m sure I’m not the only one who remembers his suggestion that we give some of our First Communion money to the poor box.”

A small chuckle came from the crowd.

“And that was his way.” He continued. “To think of the community and the individuals in it. To think in terms of ‘What can I give?’ . He gave his life, right here in this church, protecting others. Standing up to a man who used fear as a tool to set neighbors against one another. If Father Lantom had an enemy, I would say it was fear.

“For me personally, he spent many years trying to get me to face my own fears. To understand how they enslaved me, how they divided me from the people that I love.”

You knew eyes were falling on you with that line but yours were on Matt. As if that was something out of the ordinary. You were always captivated when he spoke, especially when he spoke about something that mattered to him.

“He counseled me to transcend my fears, to be brave enough to forgive and see the possibilities of being a man without fear. That was his legacy. And now it’s up to all of us to live up to it.”

He gave a small nod before stepping aside and gesturing for you to take his spot. You said a quiet thanks and he stepped behind you to stand where you previously were.

“Matt touched on how Father Lantom welcomed everyone, regardless of their faith.” You began, glancing over the crowd and seeing so many expectant expressions. “Personally, I wouldn’t call myself a Catholic, or even a Christian… But that didn’t stop him from sitting on that bench with me out front, almost every morning for a long time. That didn’t mean he offered any less honest sentiment or empathy than he would’ve him.” You gestured to Matt.

“When I would sit out there, I was at one of the lowest parts of my adult life. I had lost so much and I felt like I had lost part of myself. But he was patient.. And he was kind.. And he reminded me that I had lived through tribulations before and that I had survived. He refused to let me stay down and he would challenge me to get up, to live according to what I had already proven possible for myself. 

“See, Father Lantom never left you to feel it alone, whether it be on that bench or in the confessional or in those pews. If you were sad, so was he but he was trying to cheer you up. If you were angry, so was he but he was trying to find reason in the other person’s actions. If you were afraid… Well fear was the one thing Father Lantom didn’t let you feel. Like Matt said, he challenged us all to overcome fear. To be brave, for whoever may be looking up to you.

“The talks on that bench were some of the most important conversations I can think of. And I know that he’s up there-“ You pointed to the sky for a moment. “-listening to this and wondering what point I’m trying to make… To be honest, I’m not quite sure myself. I think I just…”

You took a deep breath and felt a tear fall down your cheek. You took a step back and turned away, using the back of your hand to clear it away. Matt’s hands found your arms almost instantly and he offered quiet consolation. You nodded that you were okay and stepped back to the podium, though his hand remained at your lower back.

“At the end of the day.” You began again and noticed Foggy giving you a small thumbs up. When you met his eyes, he mouthed ‘You’re doing great’ and it made you smile. “Father Lantom has left a mark on each and every one of us. And even now, he’ll be watching out for us. So I say we all be someone he can be proud of.”

After the ceremony, a few of the older women that you had met in your prior trips to the church came up to you. They hugged you tightly and some were still crying. They thanked you for your speech and said you were so eloquent with your words. Some of them hinted about you and Matt and you laughed when they wiggled their brows, saying he was such a handsome and sweet man. Glancing around and finding him talking to Karen, you had to agree. You politely excused yourself when they started talking about you two getting married and went over towards Matt.

“We’re all just trying to do more good than harm. I’d say you’re ahead on that score.” Matt told Karen, who offered you a small smile.

“I feel like I’ve missed something.” You stated honestly.

“I told Matt about Wesley… And my brother.” Karen explained hesitantly.

“I don’t think I knew you had a brother..” Your brows furrowed as you thought back. “Fill me in later? If you want to.. I’ll be back.”

“Livia?” Matt reached for your hand.

“Hmm?”

“We still need to talk.”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

“Yet? What does that mean?”

You kept moving towards Foggy and Marci, whose conversation was turning towards the end of Foggy’s DA campaign and potentially the end of his career at his big time firm.

“Uh oh.” You said as you got to your friend’s side. “That’s the ‘I have a terrible idea’ look.”

“Also known as the ‘I'm going to sink my DA campaign.’ look…” Marci sighed before she turned to you. “Any chance you’ve come to convince him otherwise?”

“I think you’ll like where we go from here.” You nodded. “Trust me, I’ve never let him down before… Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Foggy sighed and walked with you towards Tower’s media area.

“Mr. Tower.” You called, drawing all the camera’s attention to you and Foggy. “I appreciate you taking this matter seriously. Good agents were lost. Thank you for ensuring they get justice.”

He nodded in response, his attention then turning to Foggy.

“I wanted you to be the first to hear.” Foggy began as he took a few steps forward. “I am officially dropping out of the race for district attorney. The way you stood up to Wilson Fisk was an inspiration to us all. I'm gonna be voting for you.”

“Well I couldn’t have done it without those two courageous agents that testified to the Grand Jury… None of this would’ve truly started without them. Thank you, Mr. Nelson.”

Later that day, you arrived at the deli a bit after everyone else. Foggy’s family all celebrated your arrival with loud welcomes and tight hugs. It was as if you had grown up with them and it made your chest warm. You laughed at their responses as you fought your way through to your friends, who had already claimed a table.

“Want me to get your own?” Matt chuckled as Karen took his drink from his hands.

You reached across the table and took it from her, to which she laughed. You sat beside Matt as Foggy placed a beer for him and Karen, and a glass of liquor for you on the table.

“Give Matt his drink back.” Foggy laughed. You mocked him slightly before returning the glass to its original owner.

“I don’t know if you guys heard but my SAC flipped.” You explained, turning your own glass on the table. “Turns out Dex didn’t kill her after all.. She corroborated Ray’s dying declaration.”

“You see it?” Foggy asked gently.

“Yeah.” You breathed and nodded quickly. “He um.. He was smart, knew what he had to do…”

“I’m sorry, Livia.” Karen offered and you tipped the glass towards her. “Were you there?”

“Karen.” Matt warned.

“It’s fine.. Um, I was.” You answered plainly. You lifted your hair to show the gap in your ear’s cartilage from where Dex’s bullet went through. “Just wasn’t quick enough, the usual.”

“Shit.” Foggy breathed. “FBI gets an enema and Fisk is still breathing…”

“Yup.” Matt nodded. “Still breathing.”

“Headed to prison, again.” Karen added.

“Not exactly what I had in mind but…” You muttered into your glass.

“So what ended up happening to Poindexter?” Karen asked you. It was intended as curiosity but you could tell that she asked you because of what your relationship was with him.

“T8 and T9 were absolutely shattered. He opted for some highly experimental, steel reinforcements. If it works, he’ll have PT for a while then it’s up in the air if he’ll be the same Bullseye he was. If it doesn’t, he’s completely paralyzed.”

“And he asked for that?” Matt’s head cocked in interest.

“Yeah but I had to give consent. The hospital didn’t think he was in the right space to fully understand the risks… I let them because-“

“You don’t have to justify your decision.” Matt cut in gently.

“You trust that Fisk’ll keep his word?” Foggy asked Matt to help change the subject and you smiled in thanks.

“I trust that he loves Vanessa.” Matt countered easily. “As long as she’s free, he should stay away.”

“But if she gets hit by a bus tomorrow?” Karen tried to joke, which got the boys to laugh.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge.” Matt answered and a soft silence covered your table.

“Speaking of tomorrows.” Foggy said with a small smile, turning to you. “Livia, how did contract negotiations go? You a free woman yet?”

“Uh.. no.” You laughed awkwardly. “I’m not getting out of my contract anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“Well I’ve pretty much relinquished all of my bureau’s privileges. The kids back at Quantico probably have more access than I do but I can’t retire yet.”

“Still not a why.”

“The case against Russo is still open. If I leave now, I surrender all evidence and testimony against him and the charges change from attacking two feds to one fed and civilian… I can’t do that to Dinah. She deserves her justice too.”

“But it’s your evidence. Can you retract it and we’ll start our own case?”

“It became bureau property when I submitted it. There’s circumstances about that night that are being kept under wraps so there’s no way they’ll let a civilian firm touch anything… I'm still getting my contracted pay and my badge is still valid, but I’ve relinquished my gun so…” You shrugged. “They’re considering it an extended administrative leave.”

“Can they do that?” Karen asked.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s already done. I’m not really able to do anything until the Russo situation is handled but that could possibly never get handled. It’ll probably go until my contract is due for re-up and then I quietly resign.”

“There’s gotta be something.” Karen insisted.

“Not unless you can magically heal Russo so he can testify.”

“We’ll work on something.” Matt patted your leg.

“How long do you plan on sticking around for?” Foggy nodded to Matt.

“Actually, I was thinking about moving back into my apartment.” Matt answered slowly, as if testing the waters.

“Really?” Karen smiled.

“Seeing as the bills are paid, I might as well.”

“That might be something we need to talk about.” You said quietly. “I’m not gonna-“

“So wait. You’re gonna move back into Matt Murdock’s apartment? With Matt Murdock’s girlfriend?”

“Technically it’s Livia’s apartment now.” Foggy corrected and you pointed in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah.” Matt shook his head with a smile. “I just figured he has a healthier life-work balance. And actual friends.”

“Doesn’t have a job though… Kind of a mooch, living off his girlfriend's FBI paycheck.”

You shifted in your seat at the title and nursed your drink, wondering if the Nelsons had anything stronger.

“Semidecent lawyer, though.” Foggy added.

“Ooh.” Matt’s brows furrowed. “Semi-decent?”

“You do break the law. A lot. And often.” Karen laughed.

“Yeah, that girl he used to work with was probably better.” Foggy continued, shooting you a worried look when he caught your body language. He reached across and tapped the table in front you, a clear concern in his eyes.

You nodded and waved him off, which seemed to draw Matt’s attention as well. You sighed to yourself and rubbed your eyes before crossing one arm over your chest and the other held your glass.

“I have an idea.” Foggy said suddenly. “I need a new napkin.”

While Foggy wrote something, Karen leaned into Matt for a hushed joking conversation. You turned yourself away slightly but Matt’s hand landed on your leg under the table and pulled your knee closer to him. You rolled your eyes before Foggy proudly held up his new napkin.

It was quiet for a second as you all took it in.

“What?” Matt asked while Karen covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, he wrote all of our names, didn’t he?”

“How can you know that?” Foggy demanded as he flattened his pen to the table. That made you laugh.

“Cause I was thinking the same thing.”

“Guys, I’m not a lawyer.” Karen countered.

“You’d make a hell of a PI.” You offered honestly and Foggy pointed at you in agreement. “Could probably give Jessica Jones a run for her money.”

“I thought you liked Jessica.” Matt turned to you.

“I do.”

“But wait, what does that mean? We go back to helping people from a crappy office, getting paid in chickens?” Karen added.

“Sounds like someone got spoiled with Bulletin money.” You teased.

“Coming from the federal agent?” She laughed.

“I think Theo would let us work out of here, to start.” Foggy offered, nipping that conversation before it could become any sort of argument.

“At least we’d have a place to sell the chickens.” Matt joked.

“So what do you think?” Foggy asked with a hopeful smile.

“Why the hell not?” Karen smiled and lifted her bottle.

“To Nelson, Murdock, Yersova, and Page.” Matt lifted his glass and Foggy lifted his bottle.

“Page, Yersova, Murdock, and Nelson.” Karen corrected.

“Hang on a minute.” Foggy argued. “Livia.” He turned to you. “Get in on this. You’re the Yersova, after all.”

“It’s too wordy.” You shook your head. “Maybe something like Nelson, Murdock, and Associates would be better.”

“Okay, we can workshop the name later. Are you in?”

“Just like old times.” You leaned up and tapped your glass. “Matt, come with me to my car. I have something for Foggy.”

“For me?” Foggy grinned.

“Yeah, that custom apron finally came in.”

“With the flames?”

“With the flames.”

You and Matt made it out of the deli to your car, where you grabbed the box out of your back seat.

“I can help find us an office space when I get back.” You offered, leaning against your car. “I just don’t know how long I’ll be gone for.”

“Where are you going?” His brows furrowed and he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“London. I owe some friends a visit and a thank you.”

“Don’t you have an ex in London?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is that the friend you're visiting?”

“You’re jealous.” You smirked slightly as the wispy green haze surrounded him.

“No, I’m not.”

“So what does it matter if it’s Marc or someone else I go visit?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“I can literally see the jealousy.” You rolled your eyes.

“Does it really matter?”

“No, but it is funny.” You shrugged. “Why do you care if I take some time away?”

“I was hoping we could try again. Y’know?”

You blew out a sigh and almost reached for his hand out of habit. Instead you put the box on the roof of the car and shoved your hands into your pockets.

“I talked with my old landlord. My old apartment is still open… I’m gonna start packing up after this.”

“And you were just gonna leave? Without telling me any of this beforehand.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you now.”

“Yeah, after you’ve made the decision already.” 

“It’s my life, Matt. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You’re right, I can’t. But I at least deserve a conversation about the things that affect me too.”

“Fine.” You shrugged. “Go ahead. Try to convince me.”

“Livvy...” He closed the distance between you two and you watched his hands twitch, desperate to reach out and touch you. “There’s nothing to get between us now. And I’ve been thinking about us, trying again and maybe even settling down. Start a life together, a family.”

“Like adopt?” Your brows furrowed. “Yeah, the church probably has a kid that would be a good fit but-“

“Sure, but I want our first kid to be ours. You and me.”

“That’s not fair.” You countered defensively. “You know I can’t..”

“C’mon, you’d be a great mom.”

“That’s not what I mean… Matt, I swear I’ve told you.”

“Told me what?”

“I had a full hysterectomy when I was a child… It was the graduation ceremony. Did you really not know?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He said quietly, more shocked by the revelation than you expected.

“How long do you really think we’d last when there’s so much you don’t know?” You asked honestly. “All I wanted was you but I have so many secrets that I’ve never told anyone.”

“So don’t leave me.” He leaned forward, bracing both hands on the vehicle behind you. You just noticed that he had left his cane inside and you wondered if that was intentional. “Stay… Tell me everything.”

You sighed and put a hand on his chest to gently push him back.

“I’m gonna go to London, spend time with people I owe for their help. You are going to settle back into your apartment and your life. When I get back, if you want, I’ll tell you everything.”

“I’ve wanted to know everything about you since I met you, Livvy. That’s never gonna change.” He confessed. “All I wanted was you, too.”

“Good.” You smiled slightly. “We’ll see if it stays that way.”

“It will.” He finally reached out and put a hand on your cheek, tracing the faded scar on your cheekbone. “Because I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You put your hand over his. “When I get back, and I tell you everything you wanna know - or everything you can handle, at least - we’ll figure out if we wanna try again… Start over.”

“Clean slate…” He smirked slightly and you noticed he was getting progressively closer. “No grudges. No bad blood. Nothing?”

“Like it never happened.” You said quietly, tilting your head up slightly as your fingers hooked around his belt and pulled him closer until his body hit yours. 

“I’ll remember some of it.” He smirked before leaning in to kiss you quickly. “All the good stuff.” Another kiss. “And all of my favorite parts.” Another.

“Careful, Matty.” You said as he leaned in to kiss you a fourth time. “Making it hard to try and move on.”

A fifth.

“That’s the point.” He leaned away to smile at you.

You chuckled and found yourself giving it to the sparks in your chest. You took his face between your hands and pulled him back to your lips. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you against him, causing your skin to ignite with the familiar tingle that only his touch could bring.

Maybe you two would be okay after all.

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Huntlow Week Day # 6: Opposites/Owl House.

Meet me at the Owl House at sunset. - H 💚💛💚💛

Willow ran her fingers over the sharply written script.

As always? Hunter's handwriting was very distinct.

Very recognizable.

His t's always crossed at the same angle. All letters written at the appropriate heights -- sitting exactly on the line below.

Belos had trained him so very well.

As a child, Hunter was forced to write line after line, copying the exact form and wording as directed by the man monster who had forced him into a tight mold. Belos took Hunter from the ground, and like so many who'd come before -- all the others who had been cloned from the doomed model that was Caleb Wittebane -- the Emperor had covered Hunter's face in a mask, wrapped his body in a uniform, and proceeded to break and re-make him until there was no piece of Hunter permitted beyond what his creator had allowed.

So of course, when Willow saw the green and gold hearts Hunter had added to his signature -- a symbol for the connection between them -- she melted immediately.

It had been a year since Willow had met Caleb Jasper Bloodwilliams Hunter at Hexside and the plan had been that the two would go to see The Bloodied Teeth -- and specifically Captain Vyra Spidervein play the Screaming Sidhe in the Flyer Derby Playoffs. Unfortunately the game had been postponed due to an outbreak of the fire flu which took out three members of the Sidhe and two of the Teeth.

"I'm gonna make it up to you." Hunter told Willow.

"Pfft." Willow had waved him away. "It's not like you have anything to make up for! It's not your fault they got sick. They'll reschedule the game when everyone is better and we'll go then."

"Oh nonono." Hunter shook his head quickly, "We'll go to the game, but that won't be on the actual anniversary of the day we met! A - a-and I want to make it special for you!"

So on the morning of the first anniversary of the day they had met, Willow was awoken by the a soft cooing sound on her balcony. Owlbert stood perched with a note in his beak inviting Willow to the Owl House.

As she approached the front door, she saw Hooty -- in his usual spot -- with a sly smile across his round face.

"Helloooooooooooo Captain!" Hooty's smile spread. "Hoot Hoot."

"Hey there Hooty!?" Willow said brightly. She was surprised to see him there, honestly. Hooty spent much more time with Lilith than in the actual Owl House. "Whatcha up to today?"

"Ooooooooooh. Something....." The Owl Tube sang dramatically. He blushed coyly, wrapping himself around Willow's back, he nudged her inside. "I heard today was a SPECIAL day for you and your LOVERBOY!"

"Waaaaaait a minute." Willow crossed her arms. She spun around to look at Hooty, nose to beak. "Please don't tell me you kidnapped Hunter to do a Tunnel of Love thing?"

There was no question that the letter had been from Hunter, but Hooty was relentless. Golden Guard or not, given the chance? Hooty would beat Hunter in any fight.

"Tell me the truth Hooty!" Willow leaned in. "Where is he? Did you make him write that letter to me?"

"Cool your jets lady!" Eda sassed from inside. The Owl Lady was smiling coyly. "Blondie actually set this up for you himself and it took him three whole days to work up the courage to ask for use of the tunnel under the house so..."

"Make sure you give him a SMOOOOOOOOCH! Hoot!" Hooty smiled again. "SEEEEE YOU DOWNSTAIRS!" He sang. With that the house demon curled into a heartshape and slithered away.

Eda smiled and handed Willow a piece of paper featuring an intricate glyph. Willow tapped the middle and it folded, lighting up to for a light in the shape of a flower.

"Follow the light." Eda nodded, "he's waiting for you."

Willow's face flushed just a bit. The flower light began to hover over her hand guiding her down the stairs though the basement to a platform lined with flowers. In the middle stood King Clawthorne. The child titan wore a little tuxedo.

As Willow approached King cleared his throat. "Invitation please?" He reached out a claw.

"Invitation?" Willow but her lip. "Oh!" She reached into her pocket and handed King the letter from Hunter."

"Hmmmmmm." King produced a little monocle from his pocket and placed it on his eye. He perused the letter before returning it to Willow with a nod. "Yep. That is authentic! Please step on!"

Willow stepped on the platform and King pulled a level slowly floating them down to a dock where Raine Whispers stood playing their violin.

"Ah! Hey there." They smiled as Willow approached. Clearing their throat Raine leaned in and looked towards the empty dock. "Listen." They said. "Just so you know, he's been practicing for 48 hours straight, and I think it's perfect, but you know him and..."

"Raine." Willow wiggled her nose. "I have no idea what's going on, but whatever Hunter's got planned ? I already love it."

"That's what I told him!" Raine threw their hands up, "But you know him? Everything's got to be perfect and -- well?"

Before Raine could say anymore a swan boat pulled up -- with the face of an owl. On top stood Hunter, guitar slung over his back. He slid down Hooty's neck and met Willow at the dock.

"My lady?" He said formally. Dressed in what looked to be a handmade suit in the colors of the Emerald Entrail's uniforms, Hunter bowed his head and held his hand out. Willow took it and he helped her into the boat. She took a seat as the Hooty-swan boat pulled away from the dock.

"Aren't ya gonna sit next to me?" Willow shrugged.

Hunter shook his head quickly. "N-no ma'am." A self assured smile crept up on his face. "Not yet at least?"

"Hunter." Willow sighed, "What's this all about? You know you didn't have to go through all this for just the anniversary of the first day we met?"

"But I did," Hunter sighed. "B-because you changed so much for me that day. A -and I don't think I realized how much until --things went wrong? And then I didn't see you for a long time, but I thought about you a lot and -- "

"Hunter?" Willow smiled warmly, "Again. That's water under the bridge! Sit with me!"

"No. Not yet." Hunter shook his head. He moved his guitar to playing position and covered it with various glyphs as the boat began to move. "Willow Park." He began. "So much's changed since we met, and there was so much I wanted to tell you back then -- but I couldn't. S-so I wanted to show you what it felt like -- to meet you."

Hunter's body began to glow -- his guitar burst into a ball of light as each glyph awakened. He began to strum a giddy tune, and he sang.

Ooh, you make me live Whatever this world can give to me It's you, you're all I see Ooh, you make me live now, honey Ooh, you make me live

Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had I've been with you such a long time You're my sunshine and I want you to know That my feelings are true, I really love you Oh, you're my best friend

All around the scene -- set up with cheesy hearts and animatronics changed to a garden of beautiful flowers and vines.

When the song was finished, Hunter let out a long breath. Willow just sat. Her words sat in the back of her throat, where her heart pounded. She remained silent.

Hunter's confident smile faded. "O-oh. Was that too much?" her murmured. "I told Hooty that the normal tunnel wouldn't be enough, but he swore that's how Luz and Amity got together and -- mmmph."

Willow launched forward covering his mouth with her lips. When the two broke apart she smiled coyly.

"You serenaded me on a boat." Willow smiled. "This is the best anniversary gift ever."

"Better than Vyra Spidervein?" Hunter scratched the back of his neck.

Willow laughed. "Yes, actually."

"Oh. Cool." Hunter shrugged. "Then I guess I can sell those tickets for the rescheduled match and--"

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Willow growled playfull.

Hunter chuckled softly and pulled her into a hug. "Happy anniversary, Captain." he whispered.

(Yes Vyra Spidervein is from @lollytea's fic <<< Link)

[celestiall0tus]

Miraculous Paradise - Chapter 4 - Miracles

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Adrien lay in the hospital bed in the early dawn hours. He stared out his window at the quiet, winter city. He hadn’t been awake long, but everything hurt. His body felt lethargic and fatigued. His heart palpitated constantly that was accompanied by wrenching pain. His head felt light even as he lay back on the pillow. That didn’t compare to the gut-wrenching truth.

            Adrien would die soon, he knew it. The doctors hadn’t told him anything yet, but he could feel it. Seventeen years and this was the end. His heart twisted at the thought of leaving Emilie and Gabriel alone. For all the years they had all spent hoping for it to go up in flames. What was the point of it all? Why was he even alive to begin with? Why did he exist? Was he even meant to?

            “Awfully dark thoughts, Adrien,” a man’s voice said with a slight hiss.

            Adrien blinked. He turned and saw a doctor he’d never seen before. The man was tall, wearing the usual doctor clothes, but his hair was green, and his eyes were snake-like.

            “Who are you?” Adrien whispered.

            “The answer to a lot of your questions, and your salvation.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            The doctor pulled up a seat. “Allow me to be brief. I’m not human. I’m what’s known as a kwami and we are responsible for the miracles you mortals pray for. I was responsible for your mother being able to conceive you.”

            “You… you are? How?”

            “She prayed unendingly, and I blessed her with fertility, however it came at a price. A price that you are now paying. The moment you turned seventeen, the poison that had been in your blood amplified. It is this poison that will kill you in three days from now.”

            Adrien’s stomach dropped. “T-three days?”

            “Correct, but I have an offer for you. There is no removing the poison from you. There is no stopping your death, but it can be pushed back. I can offer a magical charm that will give you another year to live, but only a year. During this time, your health won’t be perfect, but you will be able to live for the first time in your entire life.”

            Adrien perked up. “Wait, really? Would I be able to do things like go outside on my own? To do more than just lay in bed all day?”

            “You would. You’d have the chance to experience all things you wouldn’t otherwise, just as your dear mother always dreamed for you.”

            Adrien’s breath caught. He had no idea what Emilie wanted for him, but the opportunity to fulfill her dreams was too enticing. Perhaps it would make his passing easier if she knew he got to live. That he really did get to experience the joys of life.

            “There is one more thing. A miracle is gathering that would require me. Under no circumstances are you to take part in this. If you take part in this miracle, you will die immediately upon its completion.”

            “O-oh. Okay. I accept, please.”

            The doctor nodded. He touched Adrien’s medical bracelet and it transformed into a snake bracelet before it changed to high tech medical bracelet.

            Adrien took a sharp breath. His head cleared of all fog, and he was able to focus with astounding clarity. The exhaustion that weighed down his body evaporated, and he felt light. His heart slowed to a normal pace as the pain vanished. Tears sprung from his eyes at the pure joy of it all.

            “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

            The doctor smiled, then frowned. “If you find yourself in need of me, call upon my name, and I will come to you.”

            “Of course. But wait. What is your name?”

            “It’s Sass.”

~~

            Tikki and Bridgette sat at a table in a back room of a homely diner. Tikki looked over the menu while Bridgette fidgeted. She glanced between Tikki and outside at the bright morning. She scoffed, stood, and paced back and forth.

            “Relax, bug. Everything will be fine,” Tikki reassured.

            “She’s worried. I know she is. I shouldn’t be out during the day. She’ll do nothing but worry as long as I’m out. I should be home right now. She should have peace of mind knowing that I’m safe,” Bridgette spat.

            Tikki groaned. “Will you come out, so she’ll stop worrying?”

            Bridgette glared at Tikki when movement caught her eye. She turned as a blurry shape moved across the floor. It shed its cloak to reveal a tiny red fox. She sighed as shame flooded her. She scooped up the fox and held it close.

            “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried. I promise to be home as soon as this is all done. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

            The fox nuzzled Bridgette and purred. Bridgette clung to it as she took her seat. She petted the fox while Tikki held the menu up for the fox.

            “Would you like us to bring you something?” Tikki asked.

            The fox looked at the menu, then at Bridgette.

            “Uh, she has difficulty reading still.”

            “Oh. Well, how about this?”

            Tikki snapped her fingers and created samples of menu items. The fox’s ears perked up and it leapt up, dancing in the air. It yipped and Tikki snapped her fingers again to create new items. Its eyes sparkled each time Tikki created.

            Bridgette smiled when pain hit her heart. She touched the earrings as regret and guilt stabbed her repeatedly. Trixx was amazing and a good fit for Marinette’s needs, but even so, there was one itch that Trixx could never scratch.

            “Think you can conjure something with cheese now?” Plagg asked.

            Tikki and Bridgette turned as Plagg and Felix joined them in the room. Tikki huffed and crossed her arms.

            “And why should I when you can’t even be bothered to be on time?”

            “I did bring something along the lines of what you asked for,” Plagg pointed out.

            Tikki relented and created a platter of camembert for Plagg. He gleefully sat and inhaled the cheese.

            Felix furrowed his brow and stared at Tikki. “What are you? How did you create that from nothing? And what’s with the little fox floating in the air?”

            Tikki gestured to the open seat beside Plagg. “Sit and we’ll explain everything.”

            Felix eyed Tikki suspiciously but took a seat.

            “Excellent. Now, we had felt a prayer, a desperate cry for a miracle, to save a boy on death’s doorstep. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do to save him. At least not without a terrible price to pay. However, that hasn’t stopped other kwamis from offering their services to the woman,” Tikki explained.

            Felix frowned. “I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous. What sort of drugs are you on? Is this even real? It can’t be. I’m still dreaming, right? That has to be it.”

            Plagg and Tikki exchanged glances before Plagg grinned. Tikki called out Plagg’s name when he scratched Felix’s cheek, gouging it. Felix took a sharp breath at the immense pain. He reached a hand up and gawked at the blood on his fingers. The fox kit yelped at the sight of the injury and blood and hid in Bridgette’s arms.

            “Real enough for you, Felix?” Plagg asked.

            “Go to hell,” Felix hissed.

            Tikki moved around and created a first aid kit. She stopped the bleeding and treated Felix’s wound. She tossed the kit over to Plagg who destroyed it. She moved back and touched the fox’s head.

            “No more blood. It’s all good.”

            The fox raised its head but remained in Bridgette’s arms.

            “Now then, the kwamis that approached the woman hold part of a power known as Paradise. It is a miracle that can only be summoned with a set of five kwamis. Two have already emerged with the others sure to follow,” Tikki continued.

            “Except for Sass,” Plagg remarked.

            “True, Sass will attempt to keep Paradise from happening, but that has not always worked in the past. And Sass is the only one of the set that doesn’t like Paradise. Longg will jump at the chance to create it, as will Wayzz if the cause is noble enough.”

            “And what does this have to do with me?” Felix demanded.

            “I need a holder and Tikki asked me to find a rich boy,” Plagg answered.

            “Holder? What is a holder?”

            “A person that wields our jewels. These people can invoke us to gain superpowers based on what our concepts are. If you agree to help, you will gain the power of destruction. A power you will use with a partner, that of creation.”

            Felix glanced at Bridgette, then back at Tikki. “That’s all wonderful, but why should I bother? This isn’t my battle.”

            “And what of your family? Would you rather see them lost to the creation of Paradise? Would you enjoy seeing their bodies evaporated and souls consumed as they’re wiped out of existence like they were never alive? To see the world as we know it return to its purest state as a Garden of Eden? Pure, beautiful, but never to be touched by man,” Bridgette spoke.

            Felix tsked. “That’s absurd. How would all that happen?”

            “Eh, there’s a few details off, but she’s in the ballpark,” Plagg remarked.

            “What? There’s no way. How would you even know anyway?” Felix demanded of Bridgette.

            “I can take a guess knowing full well that all miracles come at a price. If there’s a group out there wanting to create something called Paradise, it can only come with the steepest of prices. I don’t know about you, but I won’t allow it to be made. I made a deal for my cousin, for her future, and I won’t renege on that bargain. I will see her happy,” Bridgette remarked.

            Felix opened his mouth when the fox jumped onto the table. It glowered at Bridgette and barked at her. Felix’s eye twitched as he watched Bridgette’s half-hearted attempts to quell the fox. He sneered and reached for it but was stopped by Bridgette. She glowered at him and dug her nails into the bits of exposed skin.

            “You will not touch my cousin. Not unless you are looking for a fight, bitch boy,” Bridgette growled.

            “Let’s go then. I can take a toothpick like you,” Felix hissed.

            Bridgette sneered and reared back her arm but was held back by Tikki.

            “Easy, easy. It’s been a rough day for you. Just, let me do that talking,” Tikki pleaded.

            Bridgette snorted but released Felix.

            “Now, before an actual fight breaks out, I need you to understand something, Felix. Someone is going to need to stop the holders of Paradise. To keep them occupied long enough for another miracle to expire. Bridgette had long accepted this burden, but you are under no real obligation. However, we ask you for your family, your legacy, but most of all, yourself,” Tikki explained.

            “And my money,” Felix added.

            Tikki grimaced. “Well, let’s just forget about that right now. Paris will need heroes. The world will need heroes.”

            Felix laughed. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by Bridgette.

            “Forget this. Just find someone else, Plagg. This privileged twink doesn’t have what it takes to be a hero. He’s made it painfully clear already that he’s no interest in helping people. Why continue with this farce?”

            “What’s the matter? Upset that I see no reason to help some alien creatures and their pet?” Felix asked.

            “And there it is, Tikki. Waste your time further if you want, but I’m leaving before I give him something to match his scratch.”

            Tikki watched Bridgette leave with the fox. She turned back to the boys, shook her head, and ran after Bridgette. Felix waited a moment longer before he stood to leave. He paused when Plagg joined him.

            “What are you doing?” Felix demanded.

            “Whatever I want. And I don’t have anything better to do, so let’s go.”

            Felix opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head and kept walking.

~~

            Amelie sat in an armchair near Emilie. She had promised to watch over Emilie while Gabriel went to pick up Adrien. The hospital called and said they had news, good and bad. She had attempted to press further, but Gabriel didn’t ask any more questions when they said Adrien was well enough to be brought home.

            Amelie had believed that perhaps Emilie received a miracle last night. That was until she found a pair of brooches clutched in Emilie’s hand when she was checking on Emilie after Gabriel left. She removed the brooches from her pocket and admired them. One was a simple purple circle brooch while the other was a magnificent peacock tail fan brooch. She placed the purple one down and examined the peacock fan.

            The peacock brooch was breathtaking. The metal was perfectly cut, the jewels brilliant, and the color vibrant. It was a piece of art that could draw anyone’s eye. Amelie unfastened the pin and put it on her suit jacket. She stepped up to a window and marveled at the brooch on her. It stood out beautifully against her black clothes that immediately drew the eye.

            “I see you’ve made the right choice,” Duusu cooed.

            Amelie froze as Duusu materialized beside her. She stared at him with wide eyes. He held his head high and fanned his tail.

            “Oh, how I love to see you mortals admire me. Must have been difficult as you were freezing last night. Thankfully you pulled through.”

        ��   Amelie blinked a few times as things clicked in her head. “Right. It was difficult seeing how radiant you truly are as the cold threatened to take me.”

            Duusu beamed. “Oh, I love you. Now, little peahen, are you ready?”

            “In a moment. Now that I’m not freezing, may I ask some questions.”

            “Certainly. What is it you wish to know?”

            Amelie considered carefully. “What can you do exactly? Like, what do you offer?”

            “The power of beauty, my darling dearie. When you put me on, you’ll be able to shape the world to your standards of beauty and it shall be exalted by all. But you do need to be careful. While there’s no limit explicitly, after a while you stop pulling power from me and pull from your own life. When you start doing that, it’ll shorten your life.”

            “Oh. Oh, I see. Well, let’s see. What about, no… how about, ah… you are a miracle, yes? What exactly is the miracle you entail?”

            “One of the greatest of miracles, peahen. Paradise. With the set of Paradise, the five can create a literal Heaven on Earth, a Garden of Eden, as your kind would say. It would be a utopia for you all to live in and with those you deem worthy of witnessing Paradise.”

            “And… and this would save Adrien?”

            “Of course. You would all live for eternity within your Paradise with those you love. Your lives would be free of strife and everyday full of unending bliss.”

            Amelie’s jaw dropped. With this power, they could save Adrien. They could create a corner of Heaven for them to live in forever. Emilie and Gabriel could spend eternity with Adrien. She could liberate Felix from Colt’s oppressive thumb. They’d all get to live their lives in unending bliss.

            “Though, I should warn you, it does come at price. My powers, that is,” Duusu interrupted.

            “What kind of price?”

            “See, you won’t like seeing ugly things in the world. Inner, outer, or even both. You’ll want to get rid of it.”

            “Oh. Well, if we’re making Paradise, won’t be getting rid of the bad and ugly anyway? Make way for a beautiful, good haven?”

            “Pretty much.”

            Amelie considered when movement caught her eye. She looked past Duusu at Emilie who tore apart the blankets looking for the brooches. She turned and tackled Emilie in a hug.

            “Emilie! You’re alright!” Amelie cried.

            “Amelie, please, not now. I need to find-!”

            Emilie paused when she saw the peacock brooch on Amelie.

            “Where’s the other one?” Emilie demanded.

            Amelie grabbed the other brooch and handed it to Emilie. “I hope you don’t mind if I picked for you?”

            Emilie sighed and took it. “You always had an eye for beautiful things, didn’t you?”

            “For better or worse. Colt,” Amelie added with a hint of venom in her voice.

            Emilie giggled and put the brooch on. Nooroo materialized as Duusu joined them.

            “So, you weren’t the one we talked to in the garden?” Duusu asked Amelie.

            “Sorry to deceive you,” Amelie admitted.

            “You know everything?” Emilie butted in.

            “I know enough without betraying myself.”

            Emilie grimaced. “I love you, but don’t stop me. I will save my Adrien. I-.”

            “I’m with you. Together, we can create Paradise. We’ll be happy for eternity. Free of heartache and pain. Free of worry and despair. Free of the past and future. It’ll be perfect.”

            Emilie smiled and hugged Amelie. “Thank you. I’m glad I have you at my side.”

            The door to the sitting room opened and Duusu and Nooroo vanished. Emilie and Amelie looked over at Gabriel and Adrien. Emilie tore herself out of the embrace and ran up to Adrien.

            “Look at you. There’s so much color in your face. And… and what’s this?”

            Emilie raised Adrien’s left hand where a high-tech silver bracelet sat.

            “Some sort of new technology. It’s suppressed the substance killing him, but only for the next year,” Gabriel said.

            Dread consumed Emilie. She took several deep breaths as she fought the coming tears. She forced a smile and hugged Adrien.

            “We’ll make the most of it. Every moment will be like a dream,” Emilie promised.

            “Why don’t we start with breakfast? Oh, what if we go out?” Amelie suggested.

            “Can we?” Adrien asked.

            “I think that’d be wonderful. Gabriel, won’t you help Adrien pick out an outfit?” Emilie asked.

            Gabriel nodded. He escorted Adrien out, leaving Emilie and Amelie alone.

            “We have no time to waste. We need to start tonight,” Emilie whispered.

            “What do we do though?”

            “I’m not sure. We have the day to think, but we must bring out the others needed for Paradise before time is up.”

            “Right. But for now, we may want to change if we’re heading out,” Amelie pointed out.

            “Oh, right. Let’s go.”

            Emilie and Amelie headed for the stairs when Felix returned. Amelie turned to greet him when she saw his bandaged injury, a fresh, untreated wound, and a black cat on his shoulders. She screamed and ran up to him.

            “Oh, Felix, my precious boy! What happened?”

            Felix pointed to the cat.

            Amelie puffed out her cheeks and reached for the cat when Felix stopped her.

            “I wouldn’t. That’s how I got these. Let’s just say I’ve… I’ve been chosen,” Felix remarked.

            Amelie eyed Felix suspiciously, then squealed. “Oh, I love cats. But no more scratching my darling Felix, understand?”

            The cat meowed.

            “Good. Now, get ready. We’re going out with Adrien.”

            “I don’t think… wait, did you say with Adrien? Isn’t he still in the hospital?”

            “Nope. He was all good to come home. He was given some fancy device that makes him well but didn’t cure him. So, we’re going out as a sort of celebration.”

            Felix sighed with a smile. “Alright. Let me get changed.”

            Amelie squealed. She pulled Felix in a tight embrace. He returned it before he stepped back. He paused when he saw the peacock brooch on her. He had never seen her wear such jewelry before, especially one like that. It was unbelievably beautiful, almost in an otherworldly feel. A bad feeling rose in the pit of his gut.

            “Felix? Is everything ok?” Amelie asked.

Felix shook himself and quickly bowed his head. He moved past Amelie and Emilie. He glanced at Emilie and saw she had on a simple purple brooch. He hummed and kept going until he was back in his room. He headed into the bathroom, shut the door, and looked at the cat.

            “Alright, Plagg, I have a question for you.”

            “I may have an answer.”

            “What were those brooches? The ones my aunt and mother were wearing?”

            “Huh? Oh, right. Y’know the jewels that Tikki mentioned? Yeah, that’s what those were.”

            “Are you telling me that aunt and mother are wearing kwami jewels? Which ones?”

            Plagg turned away. “Why do you care?”

            Felix’s eye twitched. “Are they the ones for Paradise.

            Plagg flicked his tail and looked at his claws. “Again, why do you care? This isn’t your battle.”

            Felix’s eye twitched. “Your glibness does you no credit.”

            Plagg shrugged. “You’re smart enough, rich boy. Figure it out on your own.”

            Felix furrowed his brow. He didn’t want to get involved. He wanted to finish up his business here and head back to London. He wanted to return to life under Colt’s heel as they bickered day in and out. He didn’t need this. He didn’t want it. But want wasn’t a luxury he was allowed.

            Felix couldn’t deny the facts. Amelie was committed to whatever Paradise was. He was certain that Emilie was the ringleader and Amelie would follow wherever Emilie went. He imagined Gabriel would too but probably hadn’t yet. That left him to wonder about Adrien. Tikki said a miracle was asked to save a boy on death’s door. He was certain it was Adrien, but what should he do about it? Did he help Amelie and Emilie, or did he fight against it?

            Felix cleaned up while his mind wandered. He could help his family and save Adrien. He could play a role in Paradise and see Adrien well. That would be the most sensible path if he considered his family. Adrien slipped into his mind again as he reconsidered. It was clear what Amelie and Emilie wanted, but what of Adrien? What did Adrien want?

            Felix’s eyes widened as he remembered earlier with Bridgette. She had remarked that she made a deal for her cousin. He was doubtful of her word, but could he make a deal with these creatures? Could he ensure Adrien’s survival if he helped them? It was worth a shot if anything.

            “Plagg, after this outing, would you be able to show me to your, er, Sugarcube?”

            “What brought this change of heart?”

            “Do you really care?”

            Plagg considered. “Touche.”

            “Excellent. Let’s be on our way then.”