#or are hellhounds able to do this?
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Summary: In which, Lilia can hear your thoughts but doesn't tell you.
An accidental potion mishap with Grim led to some interesting side effects. While you didn't seem affected at all by the fluid spilled on you, Lilia, on the other hand, was the opposite.
He covered his smile with his sleeve.
This will be fun.
Lilia curled his legs around Silver before slamming him to the floor.
âItâs not fair! It should have been me! Me!â
Lilia quickly buried his face into Silverâs shoulder.
âFather?â
âKhufufu~ itâs nothing.â
Lilia always loved his get togethers at Diasomniaâs lounge. It was entertaining to see how the residents were behaving.
Today was no different.
You had shown up with Sebek, planning to study for your upcoming exam.
Sebekâs grilling you on various important figures, but what would make it more entertainingâŚif he just moved his arms andâŚ
âI shouldnât have come here. Heâs too cute. I wonât be able to focus! Was that his stomach?? Someone save me. Oh Great Sevens.â
Lilia finished his stretching before hiding his laughter against Malleusâ arm.
âLilia?â
âNothing to worry about Malleus.â
Malleus stares at him before looking at the pair on the other side. He closed his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee, âAs you say.â
âDamn it, why is his laughter hot?â
âI have rarely wanted to be stepped on in my life, but Iâll make an exception for him.â
Lilia almost tripped as that thought suddenly invaded his mind. How rare. He hasnât floundered in such a way since his early 200s.
âYN~â
He twirled around to face you. Your shocked expression has his lips twitching into a smirk.
âHow did he-â
âHi, Lilia. How are you?â
You trying so hard to keep a calm expression gave him a feeling of satisfaction.
âMay Sebek never find out that I want to fuck his greatest mentor. I will literally never hear the end of it.â
Up high in the balcony seating of NRC cafeteria, the students of Diasomnia slowly edged away from a certain table.
Their respected Vice Dorm leader stared at his lunch with a maniacal look.
âAhhhh stay away from me! What do you mean you could hear my thoughts?!â
âCome now Dearest~ I want to have a chat~â
âNo! Tsunootarooouu put me to sleep for a thousand years! I canât live like this!â
Staff and students watched as their Prefect ran away as if hellhounds were on their heels. With the devious smirk on one Lilia Vanrougeâs face? There might as well be.
The simping is strong today âşď¸đ, okay but seriously, these are actual thoughts Iâve had before with Lilia đđđş
#lilia vanrouge#twisted wonderland#diasomnia#twst lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#twst lilia vanrouge x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x you#mention: malleus draconia twst silver and sebek zigvolt#twisted wonderland x you#lilia vanrouge x you#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twst fluff#lilia Vanrouge x Mc#twst#Disney twst
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wake up, baby
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You get severely injured and end up in a coma. Dean visits you every day and realizes how he took you for granted and regrets not doing certain things when he still could.
Warnings: Angst with happy ending.
ââ
One day after the hunt
When Dean first arrived to the hospital and saw you lying on the hospital bed, attached to a heart monitor, his heart sank and he couldn't breathe for a moment. The sight in front of him what he had been feared from the day he had started to care for you. No, ever since he had met you. Deep down, he knew this was going to happen at some point, but he still hadn't prepared himself for this.
While you were in the surgery, Dean had been sure that you were going to die. Your injuries were too severe to survive from them, the blood loss was way too big. The hit on your head would surely leave a permanent brain damage. Dean wasn't a doctor and hadn't participated in the surgery, of course not, so he hadn't diagnosed the actual damages your body took â but he saw the entire thing right in front of him.
Dean had carried you in his arms to the hospital, his shirt stained by your blood. He hadn't cleaned it, only threw it straight into a trash can when he had been able to change a new shirt.
But now here you were, heart beating and state currently stable. Although, you were in a coma and there was a little chance that you'd ever wake up. According to the doctor, extremely little.
But there was still a chance. Dean had to hold on to that short piece of strand of the chance to keep himself from losing his mind.
If Castiel was here, he could cure and heal you in a heartbeat â surely he could, right? But Cas was nowhere to be found, no matter how much Dean tried to pray for him to come.
ââ
Three days after the hunt
Dean hadn't slept properly since the day you ended up in the hospital. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he couldn't get the picture of you out of his mind. You dying and not being there for him ever again.
Your state hadn't progressed to neither better or worse.
Dean had kept praying for Castiel to come and heal you countless of times. For his surprise, Castiel did arrive to him one time. However, he was unable to heal you, having his powers temporarily cut off. What a great timing. Dean's only hope was gone. Of course the doctors did the best they could in this difficult and hopeless situation but it wasn't enough.
Dean's mind wandered to every option possible how to save you, including the worst ones. Making a deal with the Devil. But he had promised you, Sammy and Bobby that he'd never do it again, and he couldn't take it a second time, being tortured and forced to torture other souls in Hell.
If you found out about him selling his soul for you, you'd kill him before the hellhounds would be able to reach him. You would never forgive him, and he wouldn't blame you for that. He had to find another way, but what was it?
Dean wanted to cry, scream and go for a demon killing spree to pour out his anger in a reasonable way but all he managed to do was sit still and stare at you.
ââ
Four days after the hunt
"Dean, you gotta sleep and eat something," Sam insisted, growing more and more worried about his brother.
"I'm not hungry, i'm fine," Dean mumbled.
"No, you're not. You're â"
"Sam, i told you i'm fine," Dean shouted, feeling this anger and fire raise inside him, and if Sam said another word, the anger would be too much to handle and he'd explode.
Sam was about to say something but decided otherwise not to make Dean flip out completely, already squeezing the wheel with his knuckles white.
Sam missed you too, a lot. You were the closest friend he had who he wasn't related to by blood. You weren't dead yet, but the chance of waking up was becoming less likely as the days passed.
Dean knew it wasn't Sam's fault, and he had no right to get angry at him, to pour his anger at his brother. No, it was his own fault, Dean could blame only himself.
"It wasn't your fault, Dean," Sam had insisted, sensing that Dean's mind was revolving around just him fucking shit up. Dean didn't say anything back, just tried to concentrate on the road ahead of him and not drive into the ditch.
Sam didn't know what to say to him, so he said nothing, letting an uncomfortable silence linger inside the car.
When they had arrived to the motel and Dean had locked himself in a bathroom and was now taking a shower, Sam went outside to make a phone call, far enough that Dean didn't hear him.
"I don't know what to do with him, Bobby," Sam said, feeling desperate. "He's not eating or sleeping, he's a total wreck. I've never seen him like this."
Sam wanted to help his brother and make him feel better but there was no other way to cheer him up than have you wake up.
ââ
Six days after the hunt
Dean had been visiting you every day, except yesterday, which made him feel so guilty. It wasn't his job to keep you alive there, he trusted the doctors and was sure that they did a wonderful job â but still. He didn't want you to feel like he abandoned you, if you were in any way aware that he was there.
Were you? Could you hear him talking to you? Feel him holding your hand? No, of course not. It was just one day of not visiting you because of another case, but he wanted to sit by your side every second until you'd wake up, so his face would be the first thing you saw.
You would wake up, right? You had to. You had to wake up and come back to him. You couldn't leave him, not since he hadn't even told you that you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. His best friend.
The woman he had fallen in love with. Why did he have to realize all the important things too late? The things that mattered to him the most?
"Sorry that i didn't come to see you yesterday," Dean said quietly. "We were taking down a few vampires and everything didn't exactly go as planned at first. We're alright though, got it handled. Like always."
No, not always. You were an example that thing's didn't go as planned every time. It was just more comforting to say that everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was going to be â
Who was he kidding.
ââ
One week and 2 days after the hunt
Dean was sitting by your bed, looking at you lying there. You looked like you were simply asleep but he knew he couldn't wake you up no matter how much he'd try to shake you awake.
"Come on, Y/N," Dean whispered, grabbing your hand in his. "Wake up. Please. I'm losing my mind over here."
No reaction. Of course not. Maybe he should just accept that you're gone. That you left him before he managed to do everything he wanted with you. God, there were so many things he wanted to do with you.
He wanted to tell you how beautiful you were.
How funny and capable of making him laugh you always were.
How much he loved you.
How he wanted to take you on a date. Buy you flowers and chocolate.
How he wanted to sleep with you next to him, cuddled up in his arms to be protected by him.
How he would make you breakfast. Whatever you craved for. Anything from cereals to toasts to pancakes. If he didn't know how to make something, he'd search for the recipe.
How, some day, he wanted to marry you. To build a family with you.
And how fucking much he loved you.
He wanted to protect you from every possible monster that existed but he had already made one mistake. One single mistake that cost your life.
You deserved only the best. Was Dean really the best option for you? No, he knew he wasn't, you could have someone much better than him who would have a lot more stable lifestyle â safer and which had less risks.
But Dean was too selfish to let you go into someone else's arms just like that.
Dean stood up and leaned closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. He cupped your face and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb.
"I love you," Dean whispered. "Please come back to me. I'll be better for you, i promise."
Why couldn't this be a fairytale where a princess would wake up with a true love's kiss? His life was no fairytale, none of it. There were no happy endings, at least not for him.
ââ
One week and 4 days after the hunt
Sam and Dean visited you together today. Dean had dark circles under his eyes, and Sam had had to drive the car to the hospital in fear of Dean falling asleep behind the wheel.
"Dean, go get yourself a coffee or something. Stretch your legs a little bit, you've been sitting here for hours," Sam insisted.
"Sammy, I don't need to â"
"Dean," Sam interrupted, raising his eyebrows. "She won't go anywhere if you're gone for ten minutes."
Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing full well Sam was right. It had been already over a week, what would another ten minutes matter?
All both Dean and Sam wanted right now was you to be okay. To all of you to be okay and live another day. But just a minute or two after Dean had left the room, leaving Sam to look out of the window and drown himself in his thoughts, something happened.
You slowly opened your eyes, the light above you almost blinding you. You turned your head around on the pillow, confused where you were and what had happened. Then, in the corner of the room, which you had assumed to be a hospital room, was sitting Sam, easing the anxiety in your chest a little bit.
"Sam...?" you mumbled, feeling your throat sore and almost scaring the life out of him.
"Y/N?" Sam breathed out, instantly standing up and coming towards you. His eyes were wide and lips apart, trying to recover from the shock not to freak you out. It had been over a week, so Sam hadn't expected you to wake up today either. "Oh thank god, you're alright."
"What happened?" you asked, trying to sit up but Sam instantly pushed you back on the mattress when you winced out of pain and body being sore.
"You were injured during the hunt and taken to the hospital," Sam explained slowly. "You fell into a coma."
"A coma?" you repeated, unsure if you heard him correctly. "For how long exactly?"
Sam bit his tongue, not sure how you'd react to the answer. "Over a week."
"A week?!" you shrieked in panic.
"Shh, calm down. You haven't missed anything special, don't worry," Sam assured, letting himself smile a little to ease down your panic.
Then, Dean arrived back to the room, holding a coffee in his hand which he almost dropped on the floor when he noticed you wide awake. His eyes grew wider.
Sam gave you a brief summary what had been going on during you were in a coma. He didn't tell you how broken Dean had been during the entire time and how he barely slept, but he explained a little bit about the hunts they had been involved in, since you were curious about that.
"Y/N, oh my god," Dean sighed, putting the cup of coffee down on the side table, rushing to your bed. He was speechless, not knowing what the hell to say, not having been prepared for you to open your eyes. He wanted to say so many things but none of the words felt right on his tongue.
Right then, an idea popped into your head. This was mean. This was going to be so mean. You knew you shouldn't do it.
"Um... who are you?" you asked, furrowing your brows to look confused.
Dean's face instantly fell, going from relieved and happy to confused and sad. He glanced at his brother who looked also surprised.
"You... you don't remember?" Dean mumbled quietly. The hurtful look in his eyes made your heart clench but this was a payback from earlier.
You glanced at Sam for comfort, who seemed to be just as confused.
"Wait, you don't remember Dean?" Sam asked.
"Should i?" you asked, playing the innocent victim with amnesia card.
"Hold on, she remembers you but not me?" Dean pointed at Sam, looking offended.
Sam noticed your face crack a little when Dean wasn't looking and could guess what was going on.
"Well, i suppose she must like me better then," Sam said and shrugged, looking all smug.
Dean raised his eyebrows, lips slightly parted. "The hell she does." Then, he turned back to you, kneeling down next to your bed and looked directly into your eyes. "Y/N, come on. You must remember at least some part of me, yeah?"
"I'm sorry," you apologized nervously. "Are we friends?" You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head. "Wait, are you... are you my boyfriend?"
Dean's cheeks turned slightly pink and he momenturaly turned his gaze away from you. "Um, friends, yeah," he replied awkwardly.
"Really? Only friends?" you asked. "I do remember you telling me that you loved me though."
Dean's eyes grew wider now. "What? I, when?" he stuttered.
"While i was in a coma," you responded, a smile spreading on your face. "I heard every love confession you made to me."
"Yeah, well, um. About that," Dean mumbled, the words getting stuck in his throat. It was so cute when Dean got all flustered like that.
Sam looked both amused and surprised, having no idea that his brother had been finally confessing how much he loved you to you, though while you were unconscious. He had been waiting for that day, sure, and apparently you had to be on the verge of dying for Dean to act on his feelings. Typical.
"I'm just kidding," you chuckled. "Of course i remember you, silly."
"That wasn't very funny, Y/N," Dean stated, raising his eyebrows. God, you made him go insane in every possible way. "Seriously, not funny at all."
"I know, i know, i'm horrible," you sighed and rolled your eyes, a wide smile creeping on your face. "But you still love me. Or did you say that just because i was dying?"
"I do love you, Y/N," Dean admitted seriously. "And the past week almost killed me."
"Killed you? Which one of us is lying on a hospital bed, huh?" you pointed out.
Dean was about to say something back when the doctor entered the room, looking genuinely surprised and relieved to see you awake. He rushed Sam and Dean out of the room to have a quick examination on you in private. Dean was hesitant to leave just like that but Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him away.
What if you had woken up for a moment and would fall into the coma again when he'd look away? What if what if what if.
ââ
Home
Dean had wanted nothing more than to hug you tightly ever since you woke up, so tight that you couldn't almost breathe and you'd be glued on his body, merging into him. You had stitches on your stomach so he couldn't take a risk and accidentally rip them open, causing him to take you back to the hospital.
When you finally got back home, Dean felt like he had to keep an eye on you every damn moment. Have you sleep on a bed placed inside a circle of salt, have bottles of holy water on your bedside table and a silver dagger. Just in case you would wake up by a demon attacking you.
Dean knew he was overthinking things but he couldn't help but feel overprotective over you. He wanted to take you in his bed and cage you against him with his arms, pressing your head on his chest. You'd be safe with him.
"Dean, you alright?" you asked.
Yes, i'm perfectly fine. Don't worry about me, let me just worry about you. He should have said that. Should have just let it be. You didn't have to worry about his well-being.
"No, Y/N, i'm not," Dean admitted.
"What is it?" you asked.
"You," Dean whispered. "It's you, Y/N."
"Me?"
"I almost lost you, god damn it," Dean spat, voice harsher than he meant it to be, making you flinch a little. His face softened, and he closed his eyes to calm himself down. He felt your hand cup his cheek, making him open his eyes. Your gentle touch sent shivers down his spine.
"But you didn't, dummy," you sighed. You were taking the entire situation too lightly. You weren't the one who had to watch you lie there on the edge of death.
"Y/N, i-" he started. Why was this so hard? "I love you. You have no damn idea how much i love you. I visited you almost every day, holding your hand and talking to you, waiting for you to wake up but you didn't. I was going crazy, just having to wonder whether you would wake up or your heart would stop."
Tears were rising in his eyes, and he didn't even try to hold them in, letting a drop fall down his cheek, right past your fingers. For a second, you were speechless.
"I can't lose you. I just can't," Dean muttered, almost choking in his own words and having to bite his lip as his voice was starting to break in pieces.
"I'm here now, sweetheart. It's okay," you whispered and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his head on your chest, his ear against your beating heart. "Feel that? I'm alive, you didn't lose me."
Dean pulled back, keeping his face just couple of inches away from yours. It didn't take more than one quick glance on his lips before he pressed them against yours, taking you into a sweet and gentle kiss, treating you like you were made of glass and would break apart if he grabbed you with too much force.
"I love you too, Dean," you whispered.
"I'll protect you better from now on. I promise," Dean assured you, though actually more himself, letting the words sink into his mind. You were there and you were alive, at least for now. That's all that mattered.
ââ
#supernatural imagine#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean imagine#dean x reader#dean x you
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Marvel Finds Everything Cute
Marvel finds literally every creature cute and itâs either extremely disturbing or strange to the rest of the league.
Marvel, Aquaman, and Wondy: *in Tartarus*
Aquaman: âIs that Cerberus??â
Wondy: âYes, yes, it is.â
Random Demon: *flailing around in one of its mouths*
Marvel: âCerby!â
Cerberus: *all three heads perk up*
Marvel: âDrop.â *points down*
Cerberus: *spits him out*
Marvel: âGood boy!â *flies over to scratch under one of itâs heads*
Aquaman: *watching as Marvel coos over the dog*
Wondy: *kills the demon*
They all got to ride the Cerberus after that. Aquaman was on the left most head, Marvel was on the middle, and Diana was on the right. Hades was extremely confused when he saw this because he never thought Cerberus would act like this around mortals??
or
JL: *all wearing blindfolds besides Marvel because they donât wanna go insane*
Marvel: *waves* âHi Cthulhu!â
Cthulhu: *tentacle noise thatâs the equivalent of âHello, Champion*
Batman: âMighty Cthulhu, we have come here today-â
Marvel: âYouâre just as cute as I remember!â *disappears past the tentacles and is probably scratching his chin or something*
*silence*
Batman: âCaptain, please step away from the primordial entity that can drive people insane with just one look.â
Marvel: *poked his head out of the tentacles, not that they can see* âBut heâs adorable!â
Everyone on the JL was a little confused as to how Marvel was able to call the Lovecraftian entity cute but whatever.
or
Wondy and Marvel: *on a ship, watching a single harpy sing*
Marvel: *isnât affected*
Wondy: *is a little affected but covering her ears makes it more less affective*
Marvel: âLook Diana! A Harpy!â *picks it up*
Harpy: *between singing and screeching at being picked up*
Wondy: âBrother, we cannot take it back to the Watchtower.â
Marvel: âBut why?â
Wondy: âIt will bewitch all the heroes with itâs song.â
Marvel: âOh yeahâŚâ *gloomily puts it back down and it runs off*
Marvel was like super depressed, but Diana just got him a chicken and that instantly made him happy again.
or
Constantine and Marvel: *both in Hell and walking down a path*
Hellhound: *pops in out of nowhere and starts barking*
Constantine: *gets jumpscared* âSHIT!â
Marvel: *sounds so excited* âA hellhound!â *bends down to pet it a bunch* âWhoâs a good boy?â
Hellhound: *loving the attention*
Constantine: *watching this and judgmentally lights up a cigarette* âHow do you do that, mate?â
Marvel: âHuh?â
Constantine: âIâve heard from others that youâre like a fucking Disney princess when it comes to monsters for some reason. How do you do that? Is that something you get from being the champion?â
Marvel: âI donât know actually!â
He actually doesnât know, because Solomon told him that none of the Champions besides a couple were like this and it was just because they were good with animals and stuff. In other words, he and a couple others were like Disney princesses because they love animals, regardless of the fact that theyâre alien or monsters or not.
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Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Deanâs pretty sure itâs just a load of crap. Bobbyâs even more convinced that itâs a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldnât read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devilâs trap. That didnât mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.
The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldnât be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobbyâs junkyard in a mess of spray paint isnât exactly how heâd wanted to spend the last hour of his life.
âYou really think Lilith is going to show?â he asks. He doesnât know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, whoâs howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devilâs trap.
âYes,â Sam says, tense, not looking at him.
Thatâs another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because heâd really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadnât been interested in that. At all.
He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.
Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. âSammy,â he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.
Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.
Dean stares, not understanding. âWhat did you â wait. You can see them?â
Only he should be able to see them. Heâs the one that made the deal.
Sam still wonât look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, âIâm sorry.â
Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devilâs trap, appearing one by one in Bobbyâs junkyard. Theyâd needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadnât expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.
âWhich one of you is Lilith?â he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.
Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but donât seem interested in getting any closer. Dean canât blame them.
Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devilâs trap, which is fucking stupid. Deanâs lunging forward to stop him, but then thereâs Bobbyâs arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesnât understand. He hadnât looked like that even at Cold Oak, when theyâd seen the gates open to hell.
The demons bow.
He blinks, not understanding what heâs seeing.
Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and theyâre all bowing to him.
Except one.
Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, whoâs face is cold and expressionless. âSheâs coming.â
âI know,â he says. âIf this doesnât work, Iâm going to kill you.â
âPromise?â she returns. âIf this doesnât work, death will be a mercy.â
Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesnât let go.
Then thereâs a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. âSomething here belongs to me.â
Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.
âNot you,â she sneers. âYou havenât belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?â
âSam,â Ruby says.
He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.
Lilithâs sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. âYou bastard,â she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.
For the first time, fear flickers across her face.
Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.
Dean tries to move, but finds heâs just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He canât twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobbyâs unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes heâs in the same boat.
âSamuel is the heir of the light bringer,â Ruby says. âHe has taken his birthright. You canât touch him.â
Whatâs she talking about? What birthright?
What has Sam done?
âNo,â Lilith snarls. âHeâs nothing more than one of Azazelâs experiments.â
âA night, a full day, and then morning,â Ruby says. âThatâs what he was. Then he rose on the third day.â She shoots a mocking look his way. âIf it werenât for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.â
No. What does that mean? Whatâs she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.
Did he do this? Is this his fault?
âRuby,â Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.
âRight, right,â she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, âHer eyes.â
Samâs finger twitches and Lilithâs eyes bleed black tears.
She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.
Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldnât really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Rubyâs command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.
Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.
âThatâs enough,â Sam says.
âEnough?â Ruby hisses, turning to face him. âYou know what she did to me! She â sheââ
Samâs stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasnât for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything heâs done to Lilith. âI know. But itâs enough.â
Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Samâs hand.
He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. âYou shouldnât have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.â His mouth twists. "So to speak."
Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.
Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devilâs trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.
âWill you bow to me now?â he asks.
Ruby tears her eyes from Lilithâs corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. âNow?â She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like sheâs about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like sheâs about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. âI bowed to you first.â
âSo you did,â he says softly. He raises his voice. âMove out. Casey. You know your job.â
âYes, sire,â says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.
Then Samâs walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.
Sam still wonât look at him. He only sees the back of his brotherâs head as he leaves him behind
The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon heâd been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. Heâd seen him kill her.
She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. âHello, Dean. I bet you never thought youâd see me again.â
She steps right into the devilâs trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, theyâre able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devilâs trap.
âWhat the hell was that?â he asks, wishing his voice wasnât shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.
She turns to face them. âSamuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldnât.â
âThe fuck you talking about?â Bobby asks gruffly.
âI told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,â she says, stepping out of the devilâs trap like itâs nothing, which she definitely shouldnât be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Caseyâs nowhere near Lilithâs level. It should work on her just fine.
Bobbyâs hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesnât so much as steam.
She just looks amused. âThat wonât work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.â She holds out her hand to Dean and itâs the Colt, the one that theyâd lost when Bela sold it. âThis is the only thing that will kill me now.â
âAnd youâre just handing it over?â Dean asks.
âI have my orders,â she says steadily. âSamuel wants you to have it.â
His entire body goes gold.
âWhat do you mean purified?â Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. âYouâre a demon. Purifying you should kill you.â
âAnd was Lucifer a demon?â she asks. âI have taken the sacrament.â
Dean doesnât know what that means, but Bobbyâs expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. âYou drank Samâs blood?â
She did what?
âI have taken the sacrament,â she repeats, lifting her chin. âSamuel purified me.â
How the hell would Samâs blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? Sheâs a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, âHow are you even alive?â
âSamuel resurrected me,â she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? âHe knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.â
âWhat would be easier?â he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesnât understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.
She presses the Colt into his hands. âSamuel doesnât want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that youâll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. Weâre going to get to know each other very well, Dean.â
âLike hell,â he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. âWhatâs to stop me from killing you?â
âThe same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,â she says and he flinches. âNothing.â
He stares at her. He canât bring himself to speak.
âYouâll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,â she says casually. âBut if you can find him, you can kill him. Weâre all under orders not to touch you. Samuel wonât stop you if you want kill him. The same way I wonât stop you if you want to kill me.â
âWhy?â he asks.
She shrugs. âItâs always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then heâs willing to die.â
Dean sold his soul for him. Heâs not going to fucking kill him.
But the Sam he sold his soul for wasnât capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldnât have even wanted to be.
âWhat about your demon lover?â Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon sheâd begged to spare Deanâs life before Sam had killed them both. âSam bring him back too?â
Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. âHe will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.â
Deanâs stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. âYou really believe that?â
Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words sheâd said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now sheâs talking about his brother. âI have faith.â
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Chapter 15 - Before It Falls Apart
Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist
Author's Note: I have nothing. Godspeed.
Chapter title from Quarter Past Midnight by Bastille
Word Count: 17.6k
Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean throws a party, and you make a gamble. Usual warnings.
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action
Chapter 14 - Chapter 16
Read on A03!
Dean couldnât look away.Â
Sammy was trying to talk to him about anything but the thing, and Dean was only half listening, because he couldnât fucking look away. He hadnât been able to all night, and he certainly wasnât going to start now.
Not when She was across the room, and beautiful, and Dean had no reason to stray his gaze. Ever. Until his eyes were ripped out of his headâand they may beâDean wouldnât stop looking at Her.
Sammy could wait. His drink could wait. The whole fucking worldâif it could ever do him one favor, one solid, one good thing to make up for the rest of this goddamn shit showâcould wait. Had to wait.Â
Everything needed to wait, just a little while, because Dean needed to keep watching Her.
He had excuses. If Sam or Bobby grumbled that he wasnât even doing anything, that this whole party was for him but all could be bothered with was watching Her across the room, Dean could ward them off with a million, quick and boring reasons.
Shit excuse one, if he didnât watch Her, Sheâd leave. If She thought for even a second that she could get away, Sheâd slip up the stairs and return to Her roomâreturn to Her books and notesâand Dean would lose Her.
Not like that. Sheâd still be tangible, and Sheâd still have breath in her body and a heartbeat Dean could feel under his palm, but She wouldnât come back out of her shadow-like stance until this was over. Dean couldnât spend the night wondering if She was wasting further and further away. Here he could see it. It had taken so much goddamn effort get Her here, and he needed Her to stay.
âYou can do your party Dean,â Her whisper had been hoarse, and Dean had reminded himself to make sureâwhen he got Her downstairsâShe drank more water. âI canât- I need to keep going.â
âYou can keep going in the morning.â Heâd pushed back, resting his hands over Herâs.Â
She hadnât looked up from Her book, when heâd kneeled before Her on the floor. She wouldnât. Dean hadnât seen Her look at anything but that damn tome in two days.Â
âCâmon, Princess. Just one night-â
âItâs not just one night.âÂ
âYouâre right, itâs an evening.âÂ
Sheâd glanced up at that, and Dean had thrown on his best, charming and bright and are you not entertained smile. It was the one that usually made Her smile back, and made Dean feel likeâfor once in his lifeâhe was actually fucking worth something.
âI canât.â Sheâd mumbled. âThereâs not enough time.â
âBookâll still be here in the morning-â
âYou wonât.â
Dean had been shot before. Heâd been beaten and bruised and mauled, and heâd lost track of all the dislocated joints and long scars from poorly done stitches.Â
That had hurt more. Far more. That had cleaved his heart in half, and the hellhounds couldâve come that very moment, but this still wouldâve been the worst pain he ever experience.Â
Her face had been hollow, and Her voice so fucking soft, and the wrinkle in Her brow had been deep but made of nothing but weight. She was so fucking tired, and it was Deanâs goddamn fault. Heâd made Her into this, his shitty fucking choices had reduced all Her light into but a flickering star that was still brighter than the whole universe, but had buried itself in the dark of Her room and under the weight of the mud and dirt.Â
He had hadnât bother to stop his hands from moving to cup Her face. Heâd had to touch Her, keep her attention on him, and feel that there was still warmth in Her cheeks. That She hadnât been reduced fully to a shell, because Sheâd leaned into his touch, and Dean had wonderedâif he explained to Lilith the situation, that this was more painful than any wound could ever beâhe could strike a new deal where this moment was his torture, for the rest of time.
Where, at least, heâd still have Her.
âIâll be here in the morning.â Heâd muttered, never breaking Her gaze. âI got time, Princess.â
âA week.â
âThatâs time-â
âItâs not enough.â Sheâd shaken Her head in his hold, but still reached up to hold him against Her. He might still be able to feel the brand of Her touch, hours later. âI- We donât have anything, Dean, I canât just take a night off, I canât-â
âFor me.â Dean had let a little bit of his desperation slip into his voice.
He didnât want to do this without Her. And that was selfish, because he was already asking Her to move all of hell in his name, but he needed Her to do this more. Needed Her more.
âPlease,â heâd whispered Her name, and it wouldâve been better if he stayed on his knees and She stood. It wouldâve been more accurate to how he was fucking begging. âJust one night, and I wonât get on your ass if you spend the night reading. You can go a full twenty-four hours after, just come tonight.â
Sheâd stared at him for a long, heavy moment, and Dean had felt himself burning up from within. He was full of Her, full of silver light in the cavity of his chest, something to the right of his heart had been fucking pounding and roaring for Her, and heâd known in that very second thatâif She told him noâhe wouldnât move either. Heâd have stayed at Her side for the whole night while everyone else was downstairs, because She was bigger than the whole world.
Being in Her orbit, as long as he couldâbecause it seemed that Sheâd always let Dean stay where he could feel Her, but the world didnât like to lend him that same graceâwas the more important than any drinks or food could be.
But Sheâd nodded. Small and nervous, but a nod. And Sheâd taken Deanâs hand when heâd offered it, and let him lead Her downstairs.
And Dean still had a rotting sense that if he looked away for half a second, Sheâd vanish.
Shit excuse two, he needed to keep look at Her, because he had to remember. If none of this played out how they wanted, Dean needed Her imprinted on him, in every possible way he could imagine.Â
He had to absorb as much light as Sheâd offer, while it was still possible. And there was the fucking selfishness again. He was just fucking taking from Her, and demanding more where he had no right, but he fucking had to. If he wasnât here in a week, it made him a little goddamn sick to imagine how Sheâd just keep fucking shining, and nobody would ever know how to worship Her light the same way Dean did.
And they werenât anything. They slept in the same bed, and Dean hadnât fucked anyone since Sheâd gotten back but he had pictured her in the shower, and he needed Her more than heâd ever thought was possible, and heâd maybe started to understand how Dad had driven himself into madness when Mom had diedâjust watching Her turn a little fragile and hollow was driving Dean out of his mindâbut in name, She and Dean werenât really anything at all. If people asked, heâd have to say partners or friends.
Yet nobody would ever be able to care for Her the way Dean could. Sammy had been right, if it wasnât Dean running his thumb down the bridge of Her nose, wasnât Dean in Her bed, wasnât Dean prying books and pens from Her hands and replacing them with food, it wouldnât be anyone.Â
Nobody else seemed to know how.
And Sheâd need to be okay. Dean needed Her to find other ways to care for herself, when this was over, because he needed Her to be happy and alright far more than he needed to keep up the selfish idea that he was special to Her.Â
But he still wanted to take as much light as he could, while it was still possible. Because if She found someone else after Dean to care for Her, they wouldnât worship Her right. Theyâd take the light because it was addicting and bright, not because they knew that it was rarer and better than anything in the world.
Dean needed Her burned over him, around him, sunken through his tissue and printed over his bones so his body would still know Her when Dean couldnât, and maybe deep enough into his soul that heâd still be able to feel something of Her within him, when he was being ripped and skinned for eternity.
âWhat color is your soul?â Heâd leaned over the table of Bobbyâs kitchen a few days ago, watching Her scratch another note that nobody else could read, not looking up as she responded.
âI donât know, De.â
Heâd frowned. âWhatâd you mean, you donât know-â
âI canât see my own soul."
"Have you, uh- Maybe a mirror?"
She'd shot him an amused look, and Christ, it had almost knocked him out of his chair. "No, I haven't tried a mirror, but it's honestly not my top priority right now."
"What, looking in a mirror?"
He'd gotten a smile from that one. "Knowing the color of my soul."
Dean had shaken his head. "Nah, Princess, you gotta want to know-"
"Why?"
"Because it's your soul.â
"Exactly." She'd shrugged, Her attention dropping back down to the book. "It's my soul. I know I'm me, and it's not I need to know my color for anything, or anyone else can ever see it, so I- I don't know, I just don't really need that question answered, I guess."
Dean had let it go, but he didn't understand it. It was Her damn soul, and he might not be able to track what the hell that meant, but it had to be worth something. It needed to matter, because shit, Dean had to know what color Her soul was. He had to know if it was just pure, shimmering light the way he thought it would be, if it was the color of Her eyes or hair and he'd been seeing it the whole time, or if it was a million colors because She was everything, or just gray for the exact same reason.
Maybe She'd be metallic, just like Dean.Â
Maybe She'd be golden too.
Because She'd said Dean was gold. She told him that She looked at him and saw gold, and he didn't understand or agree with it, but he'd be whatever the hell She said she was. And if he was gold, he had to be doing something right. Something good.
In some little, worthless way, he had to be something of value to Her, because gold was... It was damn gold. Everyone wanted gold.Â
Dean didn't care about everyone. He could give a shit about everyone.Â
Everyone had always wanted Dean, on the surface, when he was just a body in the night that passed by dawn, or knuckles and hands that fired bullets and split lips with practiced ease. Wanting him deeper had never been an option. Heâd never cared to be known deeper by anyone but Her, and heâd never wanted Her to know because Sheâd see that deeper just meant a large, dark pit and She wouldnât have stuck around.
Dean had never dared to imagine that Sheâd stick around.
But Sheâd seen his soul. His fucking soul, and She said it was golden, and Sheâd stayed, and Dean wanted Her. Every part of Her, soul includedâwhether it was a mirror of his, or its own beautiful and blinding light, or just a shining, luminescent grayâand he was done denying it.
Heâd been done trying to leave Her for a while. Heâd been done hating Her for longer.Â
He didnât want this to end with Her thinking that Dean didnât want Her. He didnât have any of the damn words to tell Her that, to explain that every time heâd walked away heâd wanted to turn around. That whenever Sheâd left it had been like heâd been frozen from the right of his heart outward, until She returned and everything thawed back to vibrant, humming light and color.
Dean couldnât figure out how to tell Her that sheâd really have to be okay, for him, because heâd never known how to tell Her that everything was better when she was there.
But it was.
It always had been.
She needed to know Dean wanted Her. No matter how this played out, She was going to be furious, but Dean still wanted Her. She could end up kneelingâDean still didnât know if Sheâd cry for him, but he was also trying not to think about that at allâat a patch of dirt and cursing his name, or She could shove him and scream that he left Her, but Dean would always want Her.
It was the last, most crucial and unspeakable reason he was watching Her. Dean really just wanted Her to look at him, smile, and come across the room to his side.
If heâd been less of a pathetic coward, and a little more of an idiot, maybe he couldâve called Her name and she wouldâve run right to his side, just like he always would to Herâs. Heâd loop his arm around Her waist, and Sheâd beam up at himânothing exhausted or pained on Her pretty features, only light and affection and easeâand maybe heâd kiss Her and not get shot or stabbed. Heâd be treating Her well, so Bobby would just grumble and ignore them. Sheâd have been pouting up at him and fluttering Her lashes until he leaned down, so when he touched Her, sheâd only pull him closer.
It was a world Dean didnât deserve. A world where things were impossibly easy, and there was no chance heâd be dead by the end of the week. A world where he was watching Her because she wanted him to, and not like a damn creep who never knew when to stop, and just kept asking more and more when he had no right to get anything at all.
He couldnât tell Her that he wanted her now. Not aloud. Not when the ice under his feet was cracking, and heâd be plunged down, down, down, somewhere dark, where even Her light would never find him again.Â
But heâd show Her. Tonight. He needed to show Her, just so she could maybe, possibly, know.
Dean only started hear Sammy again because he said Her name.Â
âHuh?â He blinked back to Samâstill keeping Her in his peripheryâand the kid sighed.
âI asked if youâve seen the book, Dean. The one she got from her familyâs house.â
âCourse Iâve seen it, itâs a freakinâ big ass book, dude-â
âDid you see what language it was written in?â Sam raised his brows, giving Dean a pointed expression. âBecause Jo said they were getting an English copy, but thatâs not English.â
Dean sighed. âItâs- I know itâs not English, Sammy, but she keeps saying she can read it, and Iâm not gonna try to take it away from her-â
âIâm not saying we take it away from her.â Samâs words were quick, and Dean didnât miss him glancing over at Her in the corner, like She might have heard the idea. âI just- I donât know, sheâs been kind of losing it, with the whole thing, and this feels like something we should be worried about-â
âItâs not.â
Sam frowned. âDean, you of all people should be worried about her-â
âOf course Iâm fucking worried about her.â Dean hissed Her name, his hands curling into fists at his side. âI- shit, Sammy, Iâm losing my goddamn mind about it, but the book isnât going to be the big problem.â
Samâs eyes narrowed. âYou canât still be planning on-â
âDonât say it.â Dean cut Sam off with a grunt, trying to make his tone as firm as possible. âAnd I am. Bobbyâs right, she can see my damn soul, and Iâm not going to make her watch it turn to doggy chow for Satanâs mutts.â
âWell, what about the book?â
âI told you, thereâs nothing about the book-â
âItâs just a bunch of symbols, Dean! She doesnât even know theyâre not English-â
âI know.â Dean ran a hand over his gaze, letting himself glance back to Her one last time, just to make sure she was still fully focused on Her conversation with Jo. âTrust me, Sammy, I know, but- Itâs complicated, alright?â
Dean really fucking hated that word, but there wasnât a better one. It was complicated, because the book wasnât in Englishâor Spanish, or Latin or Arabic or Hebrew or Japanese, or any other recognizable languageâbut She didnât seem to know the difference, and it was because Dean was pretty goddamn sure she didnât know all the pages were filled with odd, indecipherable symbols.
And Dean had recognized them. Heâd seen those symbols before, written on scraps of paper in libraries and in worn notebooks She kept in all her bags.Â
They were on the Blade. Theyâd been on the arrowhead. And now they were in the book, but they already had too much to deal with before Dean brought up to Her that maybe, likely, She could read in some sort of ancient secret language for witches.Â
âYou gotta drop it, man.â Dean muttered, giving Sam a tired, firm look. âPlease.â
Sam sighed, but nodded. âYou at least talked to her about last week?â
âNo.â
âDean, she went back to her family-â
âI know what happened, Sam.â Dean shot him a glare. âAnd this isnât dropping it, bitch.â
Sam jaw clenched slightly, and he ran his hand through her hair. âYou donât have a monopoly on caring about her, dude. I might not, I dunno, worship the ground she walks on-â
âWatch it-â
âBut sheâs my friend.â Sam pushed on over Deanâs warning, giving him an almost pleading, puppy-eyed look. Telling Dean he was genuine, that Sam really did care about Herâof course he did, She was awesome and Sammy was far from an idiotâand he only wanted to help.
The douchebag.
âWe have talked about it.â Dean grunted, and Samâs eyes widened.
âYou just said-â
âI lied.â He let out a long breath, letting his gaze wander back to Her. Beautiful. Untouchable. Brighter than all the lamps and more vital to Deanâs body than his bones. âShe couldnât sleep a few nights back, and I got her to tell me some shit.â
âThatâs- what did she-â
âNot your business, Sammy.â
It wasnât. Dean loved Sam, but Sheâd told Dean things. He didnât know how heâd ended up the person that could pull Her to bed and sheâd follow, who got to sit with Her through the nightâlistening to Her breathe and watching the moonlight shift over Her faceâbut heâd cut off his own tongue before he betrayed that. Betrayed Her.
Because Sheâd looked at Dean, in the middle of the nightâtheir hands folded into each other and nothing else really real in the whole worldâand told him. No one else.
âIf I ask you a question-â
âIâm not going to stab you, De.â Sheâd given him a soft smile, and it had taken a lot of damn effort not to yank Her into his chest. âPromise.â
Heâd rolled his eyes, mostly for the show of it. âWell, thanks, but that wasnât what I was shooting for, Princess. If I ask you a question, you gonna answer it or run off downstairs to keep reading?â
Sheâd let out a long breath. âWhatâs the question?â
âYou gotta say youâll stay here first.â
âDean-â
âPlease.â Heâd muttered, squeezing Her hand in his. âStay.â
Sheâd stared at him for a long moment, but nodded, and something around Deanâs lungs had relaxed.
âAlright, good.â Heâd swallowed, choosing out his words and watching Her carefully as he spoke. âThat book, that you made Sammy get, then- you know. Got yourself. Whatâs up with it?â
âI-â Sheâd rolled onto Her back with a sigh. âItâs an heirloom. There are other copies, Sam found one, but the other one is supposed to be the oldest. Most detailed. The copy, not just a translation or knockoff.â
âOh.â Dean had said, and heâd somehow understood less than when heâd asked. âAnd your family just had it sitting in Chicago.â
âYep.â
âAm I allowed to ask why?â
Sheâd glanced back to Dean, Her eyes shining in the dark, and her grip on his hand had tightened until it was strangling. âI told you it was an heirloom.â
âYeah, but, câmon.â Heâd said Her name in a flat voice, raising his brows. âMost heirlooms are like, boxes and jewelry and guns-â
âBooks can be heirlooms, and only crazy people pass down guns-â
âWell youâre surrounded by crazy, sweetheart, so get off your high horse and let me finish.â
Sheâd wrinkled Her nose at him, but never let go of his hand, so everything was, for now, okay.
âFine.â
âWhy thank you, your majesty-â
âFinish now, Winchester.â Her voice had been a warning, but Sheâd also rolled on her side to hold his gaze, and Dean had crashed into Her just a little more. âOr Iâm going downstairs.â
Heâd grinned at Her. âSo bossy, Princess-â
âDean-â
âAnd my point was that books arenât heirlooms.â Heâd finished, tone dropping. âEspecially if theyâre rare magic books.â
Sheâd rolled Her eyes, muttering under Her breath. âThat feels like perfect heirloom material-â
Dean cut Her off with Her name, holding Her gaze. âItâs weird Princess. That book is big and old and weird, and itâs a little crazy that your family just had it.â
âItâs- Itâs ours.â Sheâd sighed, Her words slow as She scanned over Dean in the dark. âWe have it because itâs ours. I was just always told that it was our book, and it had a lot of really complicated rituals, the most complicated in the world, and we had to original copy because it was⌠ours.â
Dean had blinked at Her. âWas- This might be a dumb question, but your family, are they-â
âTheyâre not like me.â Sheâd mumbled, and let out a long, full yawn only seconds after.
And Dean had wanted to know moreâto know as much about Her family as Sheâd allow him toâbut Her eyes had started to droop shut, and nothing could be more important than letting Her rest.Â
âYou should go talk to her.âÂ
Dean blinked over to Sam, and heâd probably been staring at Her for far too long. âUh-â
âIâm not stupid, Dean.â Sam gave him a flat look. âI know you love me, and youâll want me to take care of myself, and if this goes to shit you donât want me to blame myself. She doesnât. Go talk to your girl, jerk.â
âSheâs not my-â
âItâs just us, man.â Sam muttered, taking a long drink of his beer before he continued. âYouâve already got enough sins without adding lying.â
Dean scowled. âShut up, bitch-â
âI will if you go talk to her-â
Sam dodged Deanâs shove, took another swig of his beer, and there was no way Dean was winning this conversation.Â
And he wanted to go to Her. He really needed to be at least closer to Her, and Sam was giving him permission, and everyone was already drinking so who would notice if Dean slipped up behind Her and tugged her away-
Sheâd notice. Bobby would notice. She wasnât drunk, and Bobby might not be fully watching her, but he was sober enough to see it if Dean tried to just walk up to Her and steal her off into somewhere more private.
Dean wasnât planning on doing anything. Not like that. And Bobby loved him, Dean knew Bobby loved him, but he loved Her more, and theyâd reached a silent agreement to simply never speak of what they both knew to be Deanâs more crude thoughts about Her. Or his softer, purer ones. Or anything of his desire to grab Her and never let go.Â
But Dean needed Her. Right now.
It was his damn party. He didnât need an excuse to talk to his best friend at his own damn party.
He stopped in the kitchen anyway. Grabbed the ginger ale from the back of the pantry and the grenadine from the fridge, mixing it into a glass best he could andâjust because it was Herâadded a little purple paper umbrella that Ellen had brought from the roadhouse.
Jo blinked at him, over Her shoulder, as he approached them. There was almost an amusement in her expression, like the girl had somehow guessed that Dean would end up sneaking over to themâthey were in the middle of the damn living room, but it still felt like sneakingâwith a Shirley Temple, shifting on his feet behind Her as Joâs amused grin only grew.
âYou need somethinâ, Dean?â
Dean scowled, but any sharp words he had for Jo about mocking him died in his throat as She turned.
She was always prettier, up close. It made Dean certain that She could never be close enough, because he could be drowning in Her beautyâconsumed and intoxicated by it, all around his skin and into his lungs and veinsâbut it would still never be enough.
âHi.â She whispered, and he felt like an idiot. He was just standing here like a weirdo, and he was supposed to be damn good at this, and it was HerâDean knew Her better than any pair of tits in a bar, and he was about to ask Her for a far more innocent thing than heâd ever asked themâso this should be easy. Heâd been getting ready for this all fucking day.
He could do it. He had to do it.Â
He was almost out of time, so he had to do it.
Dean said Her name with a small smileâthat was the only right way to say it, with light and joyâand shot Jo another glare. âJo.â
Jo just grinned at him. âWhatâs in your hand?â
âItâs, uh-â God, she was worse than Sam. âDrink.â
âItâs pink-â
âRed.â Dean grunted, glancing back to Her. Just staring at him with wide, bright eyes. So close to his body, and he could almost feel the fucking heat of it. ââS the grenadine. Makes it red.â
She blinked at him, Her voice soft. âYou made a Shirley Temple?â
âYeah, uh.â He cleared his throat, and he needed to get it the fuck together. This was supposed to be the easy part. âIt was easy. You just sorta put the ingredients in the glass then shake it-â
âNice girl drink, dude.âÂ
Dean started as Sammy came up behind him, and suddenly this felt like a trap. Sam was grinning too much, and it was an identical grin to Joâs, and son of a bitch-
âSam.â Dean grunted, and he wasnât sure when heâd taken a step closer to Her, but he knew he wasnât strong enough to move away when She grabbed his arm, like She was trying to steady herself. âIâm gonna fucking kill you-â
âI donât know what youâre talking about, Dean.â Sammy shrugged, his brows raising at Jo. âDid you just hear Bobby calling us?â
âYâknow what, Sam? Iâm thinkinâ I did.â Jo hummed, linking her arms through Samâs with a wink at Dean. âEnjoy your drink, Dean. Hope itâs sugary.â
He was going to kill them. Beat them, stab them, throw them off the damn roof because he had this, heâd had a whole fucking plan, and he donât know if Bobby snitched or what, but someone needed to get shot-
âItâs a nice party,â She whispered, and Dean just stared at Her. The drink was still in his hand. This was not going how it was supposed to. âI mean, Ellenâs pie is really good, and Bobby always makes good burgers-â
For once in his life, Dean didnât care about pie and burgers. Theyâd been awesome burgers, and nobody had tried to stop him when heâd eaten half the pie himself, but he didnât damn care.Â
âThis is yours.â
She blinked at him with a small frown. âWhat?â
Dean held out the Shirley Temple, and his heart felt like it was about to damn explode. âUh, I made it, but itâs for you.â The glass felt slick under his hands, and if he dropped it, he hoped the hellhounds would come and kill him right damn there. âCause you donât drink.â
âI- Thank you.â She took the glass, Dean felt like heâd been punched in the chest with relief, and She couldâve destroy the damn world with that smile. Bright and real and all focused on Dean. âYou didnât have to.â
âI wanted to.â He shrugged, forcing himself to hold her gaze. âI made you come to my dumb party, Princess, itâs the least I could do.â
She frowned at him, turning the glass between Her hands. âItâs not dumb, Dean.â
âItâs a party, all parties are kinda dumb-â
âItâs for you.â
She said that like it was simple. Like Dean was supposed to just understand what the hell it meant.Â
âYou didnât want to come.â He said, and the words sounded fucking pathetic before they were even fully out of his mouth. âI mean- I know you wanted to keep reading instead-â
âBecause weâre almost out of time.â She gave him an impossibly open expression that he didnât understand at all. âNot because this is dumb.â
âWeâre eating pie and burgers and beer, sweetheart, it is dumb-â
âNo, itâs not.â She let out a long breath, frowning down at the glass in Her hands. âThings you like arenât dumb, Dean.â
She wasnât lying. She said that like it was the truth, and She always said things like they were the truth, but Sheâd said that the same way Sheâd say I donât need a gun, Winchester or Well, Deano, Iâm just that good at my job. Like it was immovable.Â
The things he liked werenât dumb.
And he liked Her. And She was the smartest person heâd ever met.Â
So She was probably right.Â
âI, got-â Dean cleared his throat, trying to make his voice as strong and smooth as possible. He could do this. âYou wanna go outside?â
âOut-â
âI got something to show you.â He reached out his hand, raising his brows, and She glanced back over her shoulder to the rest of the party.
âBut itâs your party-â
âSo I can do what I want. Câmon,â He drawled Her name, letting a smirk tug at his lips. âWe can ditch for ten minutes. Theyâll entertain themselves.â
Dean didnât get the chance to have the long, painful moment where he wondered if She would insist on stay here. Heâd practiced for it, had a whole backup speech about how he wasnât a dying man, but this was his party, and his only wish was that Sheâd go on one walk with him, and if She wanted to, she could punch him in the face at the end.
But Her fingers folded through his, and She gave him a soft smile, and Dean returned it without a thought.Â
âWhat do you want to show me?â
He shot Her a wink, not bothering to look back to the group as he tugged her out of the room. âItâs not showing you if I tell you, Princess-â
âYou can do both-â
âBut Iâm not gonna.â
She wrinkled Her nose at him. âYou suck, Winchester.â
âYeah, I know.â Dean squeezed Her hand and tugged her a little closer, because just for tonight, he could. âClose your eyes.â
She frowned. âDean-â
âYou trust me?â
âOf course I trust you, but-â
âThen close your eyes.â
She held Deanâs gaze, scanning over his face like She was looking right into his soul, and Dean realized She might be. Shit, maybe She could read what he was planning, read his mind- Son of a bitch, what if one of Her crazy magic powers was reading his mind-
âIs it gonna be a bug?â
Dean snorted. âItâs not a bug, Princess. Promise. Now close your freakinâ eyes.â
She sighed, but closed Her eyes.
She leaned closer to Dean as well. Really close. Pressed Her body right against his, like he was an anchor, and wrapped Her free arm around his bicep so she was all but clinging to him.
It took Dean a second to get his thoughts straight. He kept thinking about having Her thing close to him in other ways. Under him or on his lap, holding him with the same amount of trust, like there wasâdespite Her caution��no reality to Her where heâd lead her astray.
He wouldnât. Heâd never. He was supposed to be Her shadow, and half of that was protecting Her wherever she went, but the other half was always holding Her. Ruining Her in the best way, where no one else could see, until it was only ever Her and Dean, and he got to see and have Her like no one else, like this, but more-
Now wasnât the time to indulge those thoughts. He was running out of time at all, but now had to be about this. About Her. About the hours Dean had spent in the junkyard, for Her, and showing her that he really did damn want Her. To be happy, to have some part of Dean that couldnât rot into soil, just at all.Â
So he squeezed his hand in Herâs, held Her steady against his body, and led Her outside.
It took a minute to reach the spot. Heâd holed up at the back of the yard, deep enough in that She and Sammy would just send Bobby to find him if he was needed, but still close enough to run back to the house in a few minutes.Â
But he wasnât running now. He was walking with Her hung off his arm, through the dark, heâd was goddamn sure heâd known his way, but all theses freakinâ cars looked the same when he couldnât actually see them-
âAre we lost?â
Dean glared down at Her, and her eyes were still closed, but a small smile was playing on her lips.
âDean-â
âWeâre not lost,â he grumbled her name, frowning around the yard. âI just donât want to you to trip or something-â
âWhat would I trip over?â
Her voice was perfectly innocent. Too innocent. She was fishing for information.
âNice try, sweetheart.â
She scoffed. âShut up.â
âUh huh.â Dean took another turn, and this had to be the right one because goddamnit, heâd been following this path for months, there was no way in hell heâd just lost it-Â
âCan I open my eyes yet-â
âNo.â He grunted. âJust hold on, Iâve got you-â
âI know that, but if youâre lost, Deano, just let me help-â
âIâm not- Ha!â Dean grinned as he finally took the right turn, standing a little taller as he tugged Her forward. âTold you, I fuckinâ have it.â
She sighed, Her brow dropping to his shoulder. âI donât know what it is-â
âGimme a second.â Dean squeezed Her arm before pulling out his flashlight, giving everything one last quick check, because it had to be perfect. âAlright, ready?â
âI think so.â She frowned. âDo I need a knife?â
âNah, youâve got me.â Dean was almost bouncing on his feet, electric adrenaline seeming to rush his body. âOpen your eyes, Princess.â
She obeyed, blinking as She adjusted to the dark, and She was looking at Dean and the night sky too much, She needed to follow the angle of the flashlight and actually fucking see it-
Her eyes flicked to the side for a second, did a quick double-take, and widened as Her mouth fell open.
âDean- I- What-â
âI promised you Iâd fix you a car.â He shrugged, watching Her carefully. He was pretty sure She liked it. He hoped She liked it. Son of a bitch, She needed to like it, because she didnât owe Dean shit, but he wasnât sure what the hell heâd do if She didnât like it.
âYou-â She tore Her gaze for the carâHer carâand Dean felt soft, silver light start to fill his body under Her attention. âDean, you didnât have to-â
âCourse I did. I promised.â
She shook Her head. âIt was just a game, and I- Itâs a car, Dean, I canât accept it-â
âItâs for you.â Dean said, making his voice as firm as possible. âI fixed it up for you, Princess, no one else. I mean, uh, if you donât want it-â
âI didnât say that.â Her words were quick, almost frantic, and Dean frowned.
âSo take the car.â
âI- Itâs-â
âIs it too much?â
âNo, but-â She swallowed, looking back to the car with a nervous expression. âI donât know anything about cars, De, and this one looks nice-â
âThatâs cause it is nice.â Dean pulled Her a little closer, resting his hand on the hood with a grin. If he had to sell it, damnit, heâd fucking sell it. âAnd you can drive, sweetheart, thatâs all you need. I can tell you everything you need to, and Bobby can help you with maintenance, and itâs- You wonât have to go around stealing cars anymore, cause this one will be yours.â
She sighed. âI donât steal cars-â
âYeah, you just hotwire them and drive them off to other states.â
âShut up-â
âOnly if you take the car.â
Her eyes narrowed, and She glanced back to the car with a weary expression. âI- I donât even know what type of-â
âPontiac Firebird.â Dean cut Her off with a grin. â1970 model, but I gave you a better radio and ripped up some of Bobbyâs yard for better parts, so, uh- Itâs not exactly up to code, but itâll work way better than anything youâll find at some damn dealership-â
âDean.â
He blinked down at Her, and there are a million moments in the past few months that heâs wanted to freeze time. Whenever he was in the Impala, and the wind was perfect, and it was only Dean and the road and music, and he felt more untouchable than the goddamn moon. When he was at the roadhouse and he and Sam were making shitty jokes, and Ellen was rolling her eyes but serving him all the same, and She and Jo were laughing and whispering in the corners like this was a sleepover and there had never been a fear of nightmares in their lives. Times in the kitchen with Bobby, just drinking and talking about a movie or cars, his face half-stuffed with pie and Sammy in the corner looking like he was trying not to laugh.
When She and Sammy had been talking about nerd shit, and Dean had got to just listen. Watch the two smartest people in the world bounce off of each other in a way he could follow, but didnât really care to because heâd rather just watch them. Looking happy, and talking faster than they could breathe, and letting Dean sit with them even though he was just grumbling and making stupid little comments.Â
Every time heâd made Her giggle, heâd wanted to catch the sound in a jar and take it with him into the grave.
Every moment with Sammy where they were laughing like nothing could ever be wrong, like it had only been like this, and every fight about Dad and hunting and Ruby and the deal had never even existed at all, heâd wanted to freeze in a polaroid and brand it onto his skin.
Every single fucking second Sheâd looked at him like thatâlike She was looking at him now, with eyes brighter than anything that hung in the sky, as if just looking at Dean, of all damn people, was all Sheâd ever need to doâheâd prayed to a God he fucking knew wasnât real that time would freeze, right there, forever.
It never had. It wouldnât.
But Dean needed to at least imprint this deep enough into his soul that it could never be clawed out. That even if he was torn to shreds it would still be something he could feel. Her attention, all on him, soft and bright and all for Dean.
Like he was the world.
He really wouldâve liked to be, for Her, if heâd had the chance.
âYou really didnât have to do this for me.â She whispered, and Dean let out a long breath.
âI know.â He muttered. âBut I did, so goddamnit, Princess, just do me a solid and take the goddamn car.â
She swallowed, andâthank fucking Christânodded. âDo you have the keys?â
âTheyâre in my jacket inside.â He muttered, and She was real damn close to him. Heâd lost track of it, in the panic that maybe Sheâd turn down the gift, but She was really fucking close.
He could see every line and dip on Her face, smell the vanilla of Her perfume as it invaded his sense, the cherry of Her drink on Her breath and that goddamn fruitâdifferent from the drink, so at least now he knew it wasnât fucking cherryâeverywhere around him. Her cheeks were from the wind, and Her hair framed her face in a way that made her look like a fucking angel, and Her eyes were wholly black.
From the dark.Â
She was looking at Dean like there had never been anything else to bother looking at, but Her eyes were blown out from the dark. And She was so close because it was cold and Dean could run hot, and She was breathing so heavy because the earth was sort of spinning under them, and the air was suddenly not enough to keep going-
âDean.â She paused, scanning over Deanâs features until whatever she was looking for, She found. âIt- Itâs late.â
It could be eight in the damn morning. Dean wouldâve nodded anyway. âYeah.â
âI sort of- I might-â She glanced to the Firebird, then back to Dean with a nervous expression. âI have something for you, too. But itâs inside, and I know you still have your party-â
âScrew the party.â Dean said it without thought, and She blinked at him.
âBut-â
âYou got something for me?â
âThatâs-â She frowned, and it was almost a pout, and Dean was going to follow Her to the ends of the Earth. âYeah. Inside.â
âThen lead the way, sweetheart. And-â He narrow his eyes, cutting Her off with firm words. âI got my party, and I ate my pie, and Sammyâs gonna get a little drunk âcause the kid always overestimates his tolerance, and itâll be real damn funny in the morning, just like I wanted. But now,â Dean squeezed Her hand, and his time was basically up anyway. Heâd showed most of his hand, and heâd been damned if She didnât show hers. âI want this. So no arguing with me. My party.â
She smiled at him, suddenly and blindingly, and maybe She could freeze time. Maybe if She asked the world to stop moving, it would, because nobody owed Dean a damn thing, but this stupid fucking universe should be thankful it was ever graced with Her presence. Dean was pretty damn sure that if She asked whoever was in charge of time to stop, just fucking stop so Dean could have this, it would.
âBossy.â She whispered, and Dean laughed. Loud and echoing the junkyard, making Her smile grow and everything in him fill up with silver light.
âCâmon, Princess.â He grinned down at Her, and She grinned back, and for once in his life, even if it was just tonight, Dean had gotten what he wanted. âLetâs get you inside.â
It was easy to slip past everyone, guiding Her to the house with a hand on Her back. It wouldâve been worryingly easy, if they had warded the place until it was demon repellant, and Bobby wasnât cradling his shotgun to his like a baby blanket as he snored in the kitchen.Â
âYou think we should take it from him?â Dean whispered in Her ear, and She gave him an amused look.
âThatâs a terrible idea.â
âI mean, we donât want him shooting himself in his sleep, do we-â
âHeâs not going to get shot, Deano.â She poked his chest, raising Her brows, and Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Her further into the house.
They hadnât even been gone that long, but somehow everyone had gotten themselves knocked the hell out. Sammy was taking up the whole couch, Jo was passed on the floor with a blanket half tangled over her body, and Ellen had dropped herself in a chair and was snoring like a damn engine.
âDo you think-â Dean shot Her a weary look. âThey didnât, you know, can Lilith-â
âItâs not demons.â She mumbled, tugging Dean up the stairs, only looking back to make sure he was following. âIâd know.â
âWhatâd you mean youâd-â He blinked at Her. âShit, is that one of your magic thingies?â
âYeah.â
Dean frowned into the air, letting Her pull him down the hall. âIt only demons, or like, all monsters?â
She sighed. âAll monsters. But not ghosts. I donât know why.â
âHuh.â Dean was a goddamn idiot. He shouldâve put everything together years ago, because it only took a few seconds to drag out countless memories where Sheâd screamed his name, seconds before She couldâve known anything was wrong at all. âYou got any other cool tricks you wanna share-â
âNo.â They stopped outside Her room, and she took a long, heavy breath. âThereâs nothing. No Deus ex Machina.â
âSweetheart, you know I donât know what that means-â
Dean cut himself off as the door opened, and Her room had⌠changed.
Not fundamentally. The wallpaper was the same, as was all the furniture and wall decorations, but in the center of the room was a blanket fort. Taking up the whole carpet, made of the fluffy blanket Sheâd been carrying with them from town to town, a million quilts, and all Her sheets, stripped from the bed. The only light from the room were little plastic glow in the dark stars, glued all around the room and catching the light through the window until Dean could turn to Her, and really fucking see all the nervous, open features of her beautiful face.
âI used to do this, when I was a kid.â She whispered, rubbing the scar on Her palm as she spoke. âIt- It could help, when everything got too big and I couldnât control it, and Bobby was on a hunt or something, and I- I donât know, I thought youâd like it-â
Dean muttered Her name, squeezing Her hand. âItâs- This is fucking awesome. You didnât have to-â
âYou got me a car, Dean.â She offered him a small smile. âIf you turn this down, Iâm throwing the keys off a bridge.â
She had that firm, focused expression on Her face, and Dean couldnât deny her if he tired. âYes, maâam.â
âGood. Do you want toâŚâ She trialed off, nodding to the fort, and Dean was pretty sure there were real fireworks bursting around his heart and over his skin.
He wasnât great with words. He never had the goddamn words, let alone the right ones, to tell Her that this was everything to him. That he felt small, huddled under the blanket fort and nearly pressed right into Her body, but he wouldnât have it any other way. He was here, in a fucking blanket fort, with Her, and heâd trade the goddamn world for this.Â
For Her.
She was everything. So pretty and bright and consuming, and Dean was already so far down but She kept taking him deeper. It didnât matter if She felt the pull, if She left Dean a million more times or kept a thousand more secrets. She was everything, and Dean didnât have the fucking words.
âCan we-â She took a slow breath, Her legs almost tangled with Deanâs in the close space, and Her features sharp and full in the low light of the plastic stars, and Dean would do anything She asked. âDo you want to play the question game?â
He blinked at Her. âThe- You mean the one where I ask you something, then you ask me-â
âYes. Please.â
Dean nodded. It was all there was to do. âYeah, sure, do you wanna-â
âWhy do you have my flask?â
Her eyes were wide on his, and Dean swallowed. Shit. âI, uh-â
âI was just looking for a book in your bag, and you- It was just in there, and I know it was mine, Winchester, so donât even think about lying-â
âWas this a trap, Princess?â He raised his brows, and the shake of Her head was frantic.
âNo, I- Iâm sorry, I just really want to know-â
âHey, wait-â Dean grabbed Her face between his hands before he could stop himself, offering Her a soft smile. âIâm teasing, sweetheart, itâs- uh-â He cleared his throat, picking his words carefully. Heâd really never wanted to explain himself. âThe first time, with that fuckinâ moroi. I, uh- I sorta didnât want to leave. But Dad had gotten some crossed signals about you, and told me, and I didnât really have a damn choice but I still- I just froze, and I saw the flask when I was taking your phone, which- Dad made me do that- and then, yeah. I took it.â
She didnât hit him, or storm out, or demand a better explanation. She just nodded, Deanâs hands still on Her face, and whispered, âI didnât ever want to leave, either. Just so you know.â
He gave Her a small, sad smile. âYeah, Princess. I- I think I got that by now. I, uh, can I ask why you had a flask?â
âI used to carry around my experiments in it.â She said, Her gaze never breaking from Deanâs. âI- Iâd get ideas, for different spells and rituals and I guess potions, and then mix them in the flask. Whyâd you keep it?â
Deanâs voice was only a rasp. He really didnât have a damn thing to lose. âCause I never didnât miss you. And I- uh, my next one might be over the line, so just hit me if you want me to shut up-â
âDean-â
âWhyâd you leave your family?â
She blinked at him, Her hands flying up to hold his wrists, but She wasnât leaving, or hitting him, or doing anything but leaning further forward, Her voice dropping to a whisper. âI- Are you sure you want to know?â
Dean muttered Her name, nodding tightly. âIâm asking cause I do. And Iâm not gonna judge. Not really in a position to, in case you havenât noticed.â
He offered Her a weak grin, but She didnât return it. She just let out a heavy sigh, dropping Her gaze to Deanâs chest and holding him tight enough to bruise.
If She did, he would mind. It would be a mark heâd carry on his body, that Sheâd held him and stayed, through the week and past it. No matter what.
âItâs not pretty-â
âI donât care.â He grunted, and She looked up at him with soft, bright eyes. âWhatever you want to tell me, Iâll hear.â
She nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and all but falling just a little further over Deanâs lap as She spoke.Â
âBobby doesnât know this.â She mumbled, watching Dean carefully as She spoke. âYou canât tell him. Or Sam. Or anyone. Promise you wonât tell anyone.â
Dean gave Her a firm nod, blinking three times, and She swallowed.
âItâsâŚÂ They were these insane, cultic assholes, and they all believed that our family was destined for something. My grandfatherâs family, his bloodline, had been chosen to do some shit, and there was this ritual theyâd do, for all the girls, when they got their periods. It was supposed to tell us who was the special one.â She spat that word like his was poison, Her eyes narrowing at the air. âI was the eldest daughter of my mother, but she was the youngest of her siblings. I had seven aunts, and none of them were chosen, so they started having kids but none of them were chosen either, and then I- Nobody thought it would be me.â Her gaze on Deanâs was almost desperate. âNobody, I think they only did the ritual because they had to, but nobody- The whole fucking thing didnât make any sense, because my grandmotherâs family didnât have money like my grandfatherâs, and if we were supposed to be favored then things shouldâve been easy, nice and neat, but it was me. I was sick, but they thought I was destined to marry some random fucking dude. They thought it was my destiny, and he was supposed to be really powerful, so they never lay a hand on me but they- They could lock me up. And threaten me. And I just- I wouldâve died there. So I ran.â
Dean didnât have words. He wanted to hold Her closer, do something more than just stare, but he didnât have a single goddamn thing that could make that shit better, and She was talking again before he got the chance.
âItâs my turn,â She whispered, and Dean nodded.
âI know but-â
âBe okay.âÂ
Dean blinked at Her. âThatâs not a question.â
âI donât care.â She muttered, Her voice growing hoarse, and Deanâs grip on Her face tightened.Â
âLook, sweetheart-â
âDean, I- You have to be okay.â She made a small, choked noise, leaning a little further forward. âYou donât get a fucking choice, you need to, itâs- I donât- I donât want you to die. So fucking donât. Okay?â
Her eyes were open and glossy and just as bright as ever, but this time Dean knew it was all directed at him. Stronger than starlight, pouring right through his body as Her grip became breaking, and Her breathes because ragged, Dean got the answer to the one question heâd never care to have it for.
She would cry for him.Â
She was doing it now.
Heâd been worried he wouldnât know what to do, if She cried. He didnât know how girl tears worked, not in person, not like this. Distracting Her wouldnât work like it always had with Sammy, like had before when Sheâd been on the phone. He didnât think he could even try to tell Her to stop, because they were small, shining tears clinging to Her lashes and a pout in Her lips as She tried to bite the sobs down, and there was that wrinkle.Â
And Dean, for once, knew how to fix someone. Because it was Her.
And nothing came to Dean better than Her.Â
He ran his thumb down Her nose as he always had, and She let out a weak, shaking breath as She leaned into the touch.
âCareful Princess,â Dean gave Her a weak smile, his thumb still resting on the bridge of Her nose. âIt almost sounds like you want me-â
Heâd meant to finish they sentence with to stick around.
It almost sounds like you want me to stick around.
But those last words died in Deanâs throat, and there was a sudden long silence as they looked at each other, only their heartbeats really audible over their breaths.
And then She was moving.
Flying at Dean, almost crawling fully into his lap, wrapping Her arms around his neck and burying Her face in his shoulder, holding him like She could force him to stay.Â
He didnât need to think, to hug Her back. Deanâs arms flew around Her in half a second, and he really fucking hoped heâd die right here. Drowning in Her. Always drowning in Her light, with no care to find a way out, because this was bigger than anything else in the universe, and Dean would be goddamn lucky to suffocate on the smell of fruit, stroking a hand through Her shining hair and realizing far too late that She fit here.Â
She really fucking fit against Dean, likeâover all these goddamn yearsâin his hold was where She shouldâve been the whole time.
âBe okay.â She whispered, Her voice barely a breath in Deanâs ear. âIâll go down with you, Dean, all the way, but please just- Be okay. And Iâll stay. All the way down.â
Dean nodded. And She wouldnât be allowed to go down with him. He die a million fucking times before he damned Her with him. But heâd do anything for Her. He was Her shadow. Dean would cross any line, spill any blood, go anywhere She asked and do whatever She needed done.Â
Heâd say whatever She needed him to say, if it meant Sheâd just relax into his body and fall into soft, gentle sleep.
âAlright.â He muttered, and thanked something that Sheâd never been able to know when he was lying. âAll the way down.â
ââââââ
If youâd known better, you never wouldâve called the pull to Dean powerful. It was magnetic, and gravitational, and hot and instinctual and bursting with nothing but want and a sense that Deanâdespite the obvious and contradictory truthâwould last forever. Itâs been made of the Spiderwebâwhether it was fractured and torn or fused into light and colorâbut the Spiderweb has simply been in you. Like a heartbeat that could whisper in your ears and remind you that, in the end, it would always be Dean.
Youâd always come back.
Youâd always want him.
Even if it didnât make any sense, and you were angry enough to punch him square in his handsome, stupid face, youâd always want Dean.
Youâd always forgive him. Youâd always find your way back to him, because things were simply better when he was there. The world was technicolor, and everything was Silver, and the pain was reduced to only a numb, humming sting under your skin.
And that was the pull. Has been the pull. Since youâve met Dean, youâve always needed to be close to him, and that had meant forgiveness and finding your way back.
But itâs not powerful. Itâs nothing.
Compared at loving Dean, the pull really isnât anything at all.Â
And you love him. You do. Itâs pointless and maybe more painful to fight than Darkness, and he never has to know but you need to be able to tell yourself.
You love Dean. You love him and it might be something that kills you, but you love him and itâs branded into you so deep you donât think you could wipe it from your body if you tried.
You love him.Â
Youâve loved him for a while.Â
But thereâs always been a reason to swallow it. He was mad at you and you were mad at him, John wants to kill you or demons want to kill Sam or everything seems to want to kill Dean, and he has a secret or you have a secret and none of it fucking matters anymore.Â
Dean has two days. You love him, and he has two fucking days.
Youâre done pushing it down. Youâll tell him, when he makes it out the other side, that you looked at him in the dark of Bobbyâs junkyard and had to choke on the words because it wasnât the right timeâand you werenât that cruelâbut you love him.
That you canât know when you felt it first, because itâs grown and bloomed in your body every single time youâve been near himâright along your bones and into the White, covering it in more and more color, in delicate life thatâs thorned to keep your love safeâbut you hadnât realized how far it had spread until Dean held your face between his hands in another dirty, bland motel room as you lost your mind, just has he always had, and youâd known that, maybe, possibly, just for you, heâd stay.
And the pull is fucking nothing.
Because this love could move the goddamn universe.
Itâs like Deanâs been circling around your thoughts and spiraling through your blood and something deeperâlikely the Spiderweb, more electric and critical than blood, running right up into the Whiteâand if you focused, you could pull him closer and closer and part all the stars and grab every planet to make room for him, right at your center.
And loving him is going to make you lose your mind, because heâs an adorable fucking idiot, but itâs also going to make your heart become luminescent to guide Dean somewhere safe, and itâs going drive out every sickness from his body so it can live in you insteadâitâs making your strong enough to fight it, because youâre going to have to crawl back to him in the mud, but youâll make him picking you up and wiping the guts and dirt from your face worthwhileâand itâs going to turn you into a monster worse than anything youâve ever hunted.
Thatâs where the pull really becomes a flimsy, weak idea on the wind.Â
The pull wouldâve made you move through dark, thick forests to find him.
Love is going to make you raze the woods and mountains and oceans and every other thing that dares to be in your path to get to him.
You still wonât use the Darkness. Not now, when everything is so fragile and it could hurt him. Yet, that line is slowly, surely, fading, as the hours tick by. Youâll be anything for Dean. If you become the monster youâve spent years trying to beat down to save him, you will. Because nothing is further down than this. Then loving Dean.Â
And youâre only falling further. Youâve spent so long being worried about crashing into him that youâve never bothered to worried heâd be yanked away from you, the worry that maybe there wasnât a bottom. Maybe loving Dean just went on and on and on, and the joy of loving him was knowing that he was right with you, all the way down.
Youâre going make the whole world bend to keep him safe, if you have to.
But you have one last move before you do.
Bobby and Sam had spent the last few days trying to find Lilith, becauseâas theyâd reminded you over and overâshe couldnât be summoned.
Youâre a little glad Jo and Ellen left a few days ago. You were getting tired of Sam saying well, we canât summon her, and Jo looking at you with a knowing expression.
She hasnât told anyone. She was a good friend, and when this was over you were going to have to take her to the beach or something, because Jo hasnât told anyone about your plan.
âYouâre sure itâs gonna work?â Sheâd whispered to you in the library, the morning after Deanâs party. âI mean, it ainât really a science, and I donât know where the hell youâre gonna get, uh, the bone of a bee-â
âIâm just going to use the whole bee.â You mutter, not looking up from the book. âAnd itâll work.â
âBut if it donât-â
âIt will.â
Jo had sighed your name, reaching over to squeeze your hand. âLook, I know Deanâs important to you-â
Youâd given her a flat, tired look. âI really donât want to talk about this right now-â
âBut,â sheâd pushed on, raising her brows. âYou gotta have a back-up plan, right? I mean, most of these ingredients donât make no sense. Theyâre like riddles. The fruit of the lord-â
âApples.â Youâd shrugged. âThat oneâs actually really easy.â
âAlright, but the feather of an angel- Angels ainât real, and if they were I doubt theyâd let you-â
âBlessed dove feather.â
âHow about the eyes of a Princeâs hound-â
âI got sulfur, and Iâll find a werewolf.â Youâd given Jo a flat look. âIâm doing substitutions, but itâll work, Jo, trust me.â
âI trust you, you know I trust you, but-â Jo had said your name again, her voice almost desperate. âI donât even know what the blood of the purest abomination means-â
âA sinner whoâs still a virgin.â Youâd muttered, holding out your hand. âPreferably some kind of monster, Iâd guess. Can I have the list, please?â
Jo had dropped it. Thank Christ sheâd dropped it, and not told anyone, because they wouldâve tried to stop you. Bobby wouldâve locked you in the house, and Sam wouldâve taken all your notes, and Dean wouldâve told you to stop doing insane things for him.
But you have to do insane things for him.Â
You love him.
And thatâs how you end up here.
In aâhopefullyâabandoned warehouse, all your gathered ingredients at your feet, doing your very last play before everything crumbles down.Â
Youâve gotten what you need. Youâve scrambled and snuck around and lied about going to find more books only to hunt a werewolf, and youâve bought a dove feather online, and you made last minute calls and replacements so that you have everything, and this will work.Â
You werenât entertaining what youâd do if it didnât. Youâre almost sure the blur or Darkness will take over anyway, so you donât have to worry about it.
Right now, you just have to get the spell right.
Thereâs the sigil on the floor, all the ingredients placed where theyâre supposed to be, and when you slice your hand open with the blade, the Darkness sinks in your body.
Youâre all your own, as your blood falls to the floor, and the sigil lights up.
It takes a long, painful moment. Youâre still bleeding onto the concrete, and the Blade is clenched your hands as you wait, and wait, and wait-
The light fades, and there she is.
Lilith is smiling at you in the dim, gray warehouse.
âHello, little one.â She glances over your shoulder, her brows raising slightly. âIs it just you and I, or should I be prepared for some big, strong cavalry to burst in and try to kill me?â
âNope.â You shrug, spinning the Blade in your hands. âI can read. I know about the armor.â
Another reason you hadnât told Sam, Bobby, and Dean about the whole ritual thing. Theyâd want to kill Lilith, but the summoning spell is designed to protect her. You donât know why, or who made the spell and decided that was a good idea, but itâs what youâve got.
And you donât really have the time to question it.Â
âSmart girl.â Lilith hums, scanning over the ingredients on the floor. âAnd I see you⌠improvised. You know this will not hold me for nearly as much time-â
âThatâs fine.â You cut her off with a flat tone. âThis wonât take long. Weâre just making a deal.â
âYou know I am not a crossroads demon, little one, I only hold Dean Winchesterâs contract-â
âI donât really fucking care.â
Lilith gives you an unreadable look. âYou are really quite attached to that pathetic worm- It is- I would call it remarkable if it werenât so infuriating and⌠problematic.â
You really wish you had time to push further on what that means. You donât.
âCall it whatever you want. Weâre,â you point the Blade between yourself and Lilith. âMaking the deal no matter what.â
âAnd what do you possibly have to offer me that I could want, in exchange for such a⌠powerful soul like Dean Winchesterâs?â Lilith raises her brows, and you feel the Darkness start to rocket up to the surface, spreading one later under your skin and clawing to be let out. âIt is a once in a millennium get, little one-â
âDeanâs a human.â You say, raising your chin and ignoring the way the words are bile on your tongue. âThere are billions of humans. You let him go, you get this,â you raise the Blade for Lilith to see, and force your voice to remain steady. âAnd me.â
Lilith frowns, but she still leans forward. Youâve got her attention. âAre you and those annoying men planning to play hot potato with your souls for the next decade-â
âNo.â You shake your head, holding her gaze. âYou donât get my soul, you get me. Iâm not human. Iâm- You said I could be something, and Iâll be it, however you want, if you set Dean free. You can take me now, and we wonât look back. I wonât ever try to escape. Iâll-â You swallow, and thereâs something like iron moving around your throat. âIâll be whatever you need me to be. You can brand my soul, lock me in a dungeon, use me as a weapon, I donât care. You just have to shred Deanâs contract, and swear youâll never make a deal with him, Sam Winchester, Robert Singer, or Jo Harvelle to trade me back. You get me forever. And whatâs worth more?â You raise your brow, forcing yourself not to hug your body or scratch at your skin, the Darkness bubbling right below the surface. âOne powerful soul, or me, free of my weakness, just as great as Iâm supposed to be?â
âOh, little one.â Lilith sighs, shaking her head, and you feel the Darkness start to shift. To rip out and leak into the world, until you can feel their weight of the concrete floor and the wear of the steel beams above you both.
Lilith doesnât look angry, or intrigued, or reluctantly defeated.
She just looks disappointed.
And youâre going to burst at the seams.
âItâs a good offer.â She says, her voice far too soft. âTruly, youâve done well, and you- I can see it building in you. But this, killing Dean Winchester, is the best thing I can do for you. I promise, without him there to intrude on your path you will become the brightest thing in history. Past and future. He will not know what heâs brought on himself, choosing you rather than one of my other, weaker descendants. It really is beautiful that itâs you. I would never have it any other way, and when this is over, my master will understand why Iâve bent the rules by even entertaining you, but- No. I cannot take you.â
Youâre not giving up that easy. You donât care about cryptic speeches or promises or being beautiful.Â
You just love Dean.
And you canât fucking lose him.
âYou can take me.â You hiss. âI told you, Iâd go without a fight, and Iâll do whatever you want-â
âI never said I did not want to take you.â Lilith cuts you off with a pointed look. âIt really is the best thing you couldâve offered, but I cannot make a deal with you. Nobody can. You are- Untouchable.â
You roll your eyes. âOh, fuck off, Iâm not untouchable. Hellâs assassinâs been on my fucking ass for years-â
âBecause you have been interfering in ways that canât be afforded.â Lilith snaps. âThe assassins could not kill you if they tried, but you shouldâve been blinding by now, and you are- You have been distracted. You need to be ready for whatâs to come, and you needed to leave and begin to prepare for when he finally comes for you you, but you have been so infatuated with Dean-âÂ
Lilith cuts herself off with a sigh, glancing down to the sigil, and the Darkness is going to explode out of your body and consume fucking everything-
âYou are becoming an outside factor we cannot afford.â Lilithâs words are slow. Careful. âWe have been trying to show you that, the longer you fight what you are meant to be, the longer you cling to this⌠unwarranted affection for Dean Winchester, the longer you will suffer. I promise you, little one. Being free of him will show you that, in the end, you are far greater than youâve been allowed to be. You will be ready, when the time comes. And you will make the right choice, when we ask. But only if you let go.â
You swallow, and the Darkness is tangible everywhere around you. Furious and rioting and surrounding Lilith like a storm cloud as the lights starts to flicker overhead, and you can feel fucking everything, the sourness of the apple on the floor and the beaten sensation of the doors as the wind starts to feel harsh and it rushes to be closer to your side. And the sun is burning above your but it will fall if you call for it, and the earth is steady but if the Darkness pulls it forward it would be happy the bury you down, and thereâs water thatâs cool and safe deep, deep, deep under your feet thatâs flowing and turning and calm in the dark, and you can feel the beauty of a little buttercup outside, bursts up through the pavement and swaying to be closer to the gravity of the Darkness-
âIâll do anything.â You whisper, your voice barely audible over the building Darkness. âI- Please, Iâll do fucking anything, just- please-â
âNo.â Lilith gives you a look that might be close to sympathy. Disgusting, soft, unwanted sympathy, because the White is screaming in your body and you donât think thereâs enough pain in the world to hold the Darkness down as Lilith says your name. âYou will do great things, and you will have to do them without Dean Winchester.â
You donât want to do them without Dean Winchester. You donât care if Lilith thinks youâre going to make important choices, or be great, or be blinding or beautiful or the Queen of the fucking universe.
You love Dean more than the universe. You love him more than the sky, looming far above you and threatening to crash down to your head. You love him more than you care for the last illusion of control over the Darkness.Â
Itâs the Spiderweb that snaps first. Bursts and ricochets over the warehouse in a song that only you can hear, calling the Darkness like a war drum and setting it free.
Lilith is gone second before the Darkness crushes into her, and youâre bigger than the universe for a long, horrible second as all the lights of the warehouse burn out and the floor cracks under your feet.Â
The Darkness rushes back into your body, but stays shifting on the surface, ready to be called back at any second.
And the White is bleeding up into it, easily and without pain, because youâre out of options. That was it. That was your shot, and you missed it, and all you have left is the bomb.
Youâd sworn not to use the Darkness. But you love Dean, and you canât lose him, and youâre out of time. There are less than thirty hours left, and all youâll need to do is just home to him, let the Darkness move out of your body and wipe the brand clean off his soul, and this will be over.
Youâll kill Lilith later. If you make Dean sick, youâll rip off pieces of yourself and travel to the corners of the world to find him a cure. Youâll do anything. Because you canât lose him, and Deanâs not allowed to die.
Heâd promised it would be okay.
Youâre going to save him, because you have to.Â
But when you pull back into Bobbyâs yard, the Impala isnât parked in front of the house. And when you burst inside and scream for Deanâto come out and bite down on something while you work, because youâre going to fix this but you donât know what else it will doâthereâs no response.Â
Nobodyâs here. Samâs bag is gone. Bobbyâs shotgun is gone, too.Â
And Deanâs gone.Â
Deanâs gone.
He said he never wanted to leave, and heâd always missed you, but heâs gone. He said everything would be okay, but heâs gone, again, and the Darkness is pushing out from under your nails because whereâs Dean, you need to fix this, to save him, and maybe tell him you love him first because he has to know, if heâs going to leave you and thereâs even a chance this will work, Dean has to know you love him, youâll always love him, you always have, he canât die because you need him and you love him and whereâs Dean-
You freeze with your hand on the doorknob to your room, and thereâs a scrap of paper taped to your door. You recognize Deanâs handwritingâthin and quick, in pencil with his signature at the very corner of the pageâbefore you read the contents.
And when you scan over the words, you can feel the doorknob turn to rust under your hands.
Hey, Princess. I know youâre gonna kill me (and if I make it out, Iâll finally show you how to shoot a gun so you can do it quick) but Bobby found Lilith, and weâre heading out to get the bitch. Donât follow us. Bobby and Sammy will be back in two days. Hopefully Iâm with them. If Iâm not, donât do something stupid like try to bring me back. Youâre still with me, all the way down, but letâs try to make that metaphorical instead of literal (Sammy told me how to use those properly. If I didnât get it, Iâm trying to say donât die. Not for me. You promised.)
I left your car keys in the kitchen. Left the flask too, it was yours anyway.Â
Sorry.Â
DW
Youâre going to kill him. You rip the paper off the door and read it over and over, like you can make the words change, but they donât and youâre going to fucking kill him.
Youâre going to find where he went, and youâre going to save him, and then youâre going to fucking kill him.Â
The note said Bobby and Sammy.
Jo and Ellen are back at the roadhouse. Thatâs a drive you donât have the time to take, especially since you donât know if it would even be in the right direction. The same for goes for Rufus, and you have a feeling none of them will pick up your calls if you try.
Thereâs only one person who might be able to tell you where the fucking idiot of a man you love has gone off to.
And sheâs not even a person.
So you can do whatever the hell you want to make her talk.
Ruby appears in the demon trap of Bobbyâs office when you summon her, and she goes rigid the moment she sees you, sitting on the desk, spinning the Blade in your hands, and watching her with a firm glare.
She whispers your name, and apparently when nobody else is around to hear it, she doesnât bother to hide the terror leaking into her voice. âYouâre- Um-â
âWhere are they.â Your words are clipped. Short. Youâre down to one day, and you donât have enough time.Â
âI donât-â
âAnd,â you cut Ruby off with a cold, firm tone. âConsider before you answer that I have killed demons far more powerful than you with almost no effort, that I have very little left to lose, and I am not feeling very patient.â
Rubyâs eyes narrow, but she still takes a step back when you push off the desk. âYou wonât kill me-â
âTry me.âÂ
âSam would-â
âRuby.â You hiss, taking a step forward, and she flinches. âLook at me, and tell me that you really think Iâm going to give a shit what Sam will do if I kill you.â
She swallows, but raises her chin in weak defiance. âYouâre not their queen,â she sneers your name, crossing her arms over her chest. âAnd youâre certainly not mine. You can threaten me all you want, we both know youâre too much of a little pussy to use your powers-â
Ruby cuts herself off as you take another step forward, right into the devilâs trap.
âMaybe.â You tilt your head, angling the Blade up to aim at her chest. âBut I, personally, would not take the gamble on what I will and wonât do right now.â
You donât miss the blood draining from her face, but Ruby doesnât break your gaze. âYou know, I feel like we couldâve been friends if it werenât for Dean. He kind of ruins everything, doesnât he-â
âRuby.â You warn, a cool breeze rushing through the room as the Darkness starts to press out of your body. âWhere are they.â
âI donât know.â She shrugs. âThey trapped me in the basement, took my knife, then left me behind-â She swallows as you press your own knife up, right to her throat. âBut I think they mentioned Indiana. Town called New Harmony. They think Lilithâs there.â
You nod, giving Ruby a small smile as you step back. âThank you. Letâs go.â
Ruby stares at you as you lean down and scratch the devils trap. âWhat-â
âI know you can escape a devilâs trap.â You mutter. âAnd thereâs no fucking way Iâm leaving you alone in my house. Letâs go.â
âWhat, are we just following them-â
âYep.â You shrug on your jacket, pressing your palm to the fabric to check that your knife is where you left it. âI can either kill you, or you can come with me. Choice is yours.â
Ruby rolls her eyes. âThatâs not a choice, you fucking bitch-â
You give her a cool, bored look. âIâm serious, Ruby. Now is not the time to test me. Letâs go.â
Itâs a good thing that, whatever you are, Ruby seems to be weary of it. She follows you with a scowl, only rolling her eyes at the sight of your carâthe car Dean gave you, and the interior smells like grass and spice, and he left behind some of his cassette tapes, along with few blank ones, and when you save him youâre going to break his nose and then kiss him until you canât breatheâand slumping in the passengerâs seat as you pull onto the road.
Itâs an eleven hour drive to Indiana, but this car is fast and smooth, and you donât have anything to lose.
You think, if youâre smart, youâll make it in nine.
It will be enough. It had taken too long to get Ruby to talk, too long to get on the road, too long to figure out where youâre going, but there are about fifteen hours left. Even if you hit all the worst traffic in the world, you should be okay. This will be okay. Dean is going to be okay.
âDo you have a plan?â Ruby drawls from the passengerâs seat, and you had promised not to kill her, but you donât think anyone will really complain. âOr are you just going to start promising to stab people? Because that might work on things that can think, but the hellhounds arenât going to care about threats-â
âIt wasnât a threat.â You mutter, glaring at the highway ahead of you. âI was going to kill you.â
âPlease.â Ruby scoffs. âIâm just trying to make this easy, we both know you donât use your little magic tricks-â
âI do now.âÂ
âWhat just because- God, is it because of Dean-â
âRuby-â
âSee that is what I was saying.â She lets out a dramatic sigh, slumping in her seat. âYou could be so fucking cool. I mean, you can crush Hellâs Assassins into nothing with a thought, you can wander through a room full of monsters and demons and know no one will touch you, you could probably bring the angels down from heaven if you called, but-â
You shoot her a frown. âAngels arenât-â
âTheyâre real.â She shrugs. âI mean, Iâve never met one, but theyâll be moving in on the game soon enough. And if youâre thinking theyâll help you, they wonât. Theyâll be more afraid of you than the demons are, and theyâre giant, feathered assholes so theyâll get really weird about it. Thatâs not what Iâm getting at. Iâm saying you could probably be one of the most powerful things in the world, but instead you want to play house with a man who likes pie and cars and is more emotionally constipated than an old school Hollywood actor.â
âDonât talk about him like that.â You snap, your grip on the wheel growing white knuckled, and Ruby laughs.
âWhy not. What exactly is he to you?â She drawls your name, and if this car wasnât a gift from Dean, youâd slam the brakes so hard she flew out the windshield. âI mean, youâre all pathetic and needy about each other, and he left you behind but youâre still trying to save him. Iâm sure there are words for that, but I think weak little bitches works just fine.â
You let out a long, slow breath, and the Darkness somehow knows to stay right on the surface of your body. You canât afford distractions or wastes of energy, you can barely even afford the delay to pull over and refill the tank because Deanâin all his bouncing, proud, boyish and pretty joy to give you the carâhad forgotten to do so after taking it for test drives.
âYou know, this,â you gesture between yourself and Ruby with a hand, scanning over billboard signs for a rest stop. âReally doesnât have to be a talking thing.â
âWhy, so you can listen to the music Dean left you-â
You jerk the wheel as you switch lanes, just enough to make Ruby yelp.
âThat wasnât a suggestion.â
Rubyâs scowling as you pull into the rest stop.Â
Good.
You can see her hideous, twisted and almost mauled face in her vessel, and you hope it gets stuck in an even more hateful expression, like an old wives tale. It would be beautiful, if Rubyâs face stayed so sour that everyone could see that ugly, rolling blackness of her true form. If whenever someone looked at her, theyâd vomit all over her clothing.
For now, youâll just settle for dragging her into the connivance store behind you, because thereâs no goddamn way youâre leaving her with your car, and the gas pump has a little paper reading pay inside stuck to it.Â
Itâs almost empty, but you donât bother to clock that as odd. Itâs evening on a weekday in a flyover state, you werenât really expecting more. There isnât anyone out the checkout, but thereâs a small bell you can ring, and if it comes down to it youâre more than willing to just jump the counter and handle this yourself, because thereâs not enough time-
âCan I get a soda?â
You blink at Ruby. âYou donât even eat-â
âBut I can, if I want.â She shrugs. âAnd I want a soda. Itâs not like this wonât take a minute anyway, and I can steal it-â
âYou- Donât steal it-â
âOh, câmon, itâs not like youâre a saint, Princess.â
Now cannot be the time for the Darkness. Youâre on a timer, and you need to just move and not burst this rest stop into fire and black oil, leaking onto the highway. You need that gas. You need that highway.Â
To get to Dean. To fucking save Dean.
âDo not call me that.â You mutter through your teeth, leaning over the counter and trying to see into the back. âGo get your fucking soda.â
Ruby hums, and you hear her strolling away as you frown at the slightly ajar door of the backroom.
Thereâs no one in there. Thereâs really, truly, no one here. But there were other cars in the lot, and the station was unlocked. And the Darkness is singing in your body, starting to flow carefully with the White like itâs trying to draw its power, like for once they can come together on their own.
Itâs still for Dean. Everything is only in harmony like this when itâs for Dean, and it seems the only thing every part of you can agree on is that tearing and shredding yourself is fine, but everything needs to come together for Dean.
You donât have enough time.
And youâre about to turn and march back outsideâyouâve siphoned enough gas in your life to know how to do it fast, and itâs not like anyone will be around to arrest youâwhen you feel it.
A blaring, loud alarm of the Darkness in your body, flashing in time with the White, making every hair on your body stand up and your hand fly to your knife before you can even register whatâs happening.Â
The blow to your head doesnât fully knock you out. Itâs a dull, throbbing pain in your skull thatâs enough to pound the Darkness down on its own, and it drift you in and out of consciousness as violent, solid green hands drag you across the cold floor.
Something slams in the background, and you can hear low voices muttering words that you know, but canât cling to long enough to understand. Only three really manage to push into your bruised skull, sparking the Darkness in your body.
Bitch.
Thatâs either you or Ruby. It doesnât really matter. Whatever they did to Ruby, you hope it either hurt her, or did nothing at all so she can fly off to Indiana and at least try to do something with her worthless, insufferable self.
Whore.
Again, you or Ruby. But the same hand from before slams into your brow and makes your head roll, so somewhere the fog of your thoughts you work out that itâs you. Youâre the whore. It feels like a heavier insult than it should be, because youâre not a whore. Youâre barely even a warm body. Youâre really just a heart thatâs pounding in your ears, and Darkness thatâs starting to lace into White, and everything else in the world but yourself. Youâre the sterile, pained bleach of the tile, and the creak of the old plastic chair under your body, and the heaviness of the cuffs around your wrists. Youâre the tedious movement of the clock on the wall, ticking byânot enough timeâand the ache of your knife on the counter.
But youâre mostly, fundamentally, entirely-
Dean.
Thatâs their last word. Dean. Dean Winchesterâs clock is almost up, and Lilith will take care of the bitch if we just keep an eye on the whore.Â
The Silver starts to spark in your chest, and whatever pained theyâd inflicted on your body becomes numb as you fuse yourself back together.
Dean. Dean Winchesterâs clock is almost up, and youâre still hours away, and thereâs not enough time.Â
They donât notice, when you open your eyes. The demons just keep rioting and pushing in their vesselsâtwo very unfortunate high school kids, whoâs faces will be added to your graveyard when this is doneâwith their backs turned and their voices low as you adjust to the blue, florescent light.
âLilith say how long we need to hold her?â One of themâin a stringy boy who had a poorly done buzzcutâasks, and the other shrugs.
âLonger the better. I gave her a real good beating on the head, that usually good to keep a human out for a while-â
âYou know this one isnât human, and you remember what she did to the others-â
âSheâs human enough.â The second demon snaps, and her vesselâs accent twangs with the words. âAnd she hasnât killed one of us in years-â
âShe killed Wes, Mickey, and Ursula, getting the-â
âI know she killed them, but they werenât expecting it. Weâre ready, the whore wonât get the jump on us-â
The first demon shakes his head. âShe didnât get the jump on them, she just-â He snaps his fingers, and you bite your tongue as the sound echoes through the room. âAnd they were gone. Not killed and sent to the Empty, not banished back to hell, gone. If she wakes up and find out that Dean Winchester-â
âIf she gets up.â She second demon hisses, and you take a slow, silent breath. The Darkness needs to stay down. âWeâll just knock her back under until we get the clear to go. Sheâs tied up, we just gotta keep her that way.â
Thatâs as good a cue as any.Â
âAnd you think youâll be able to? Keep me that way?â
The demons whip around, and while the first one has stilledâhis vessel face bloodless in a way that would be amusing, if you werenât fighting the sickness in your stomach made of Dean, in danger, Deanâs in dangerâthe other one stands a little taller, holding your gaze.
âLook who comes when sheâs called.â The second demon mocks, leering at you with a smirk. âYou hear us talking about good olâ Dean and decide to join us? Tell us about your grand plan to save him, when heâs already as good as dead?â
âMay,â the first demon warns, watching you wearily. âDonât push her, if she breaks out it will fuck everything up-â
The second demonâMayâscoffs, dismissing her companion with a hand. âPlease, she wonât break out. There was a damn dent in her head, she probably canât even think-â
âI can think.â You hum, raising your chin to hold Mayâs gaze. âAnd I can come up with some very detailed ways to hurt you, if you donât let me go now.â
May rolls her eyes, but the first demons is smart enough to look worried.
âI- If sheâs tied up, we can probably just leave her-ââ
âStop being a fucking pussy Phil.â May snaps, and youâve never really thought of the Hellâs Assassinâs having names before this.
They were humans first. All demons were.
Maybe, in a better world, youâll have the time one day to figure out what exactly causes a person to turn into a green demon.
This isnât that world.
âYeah, Phil.â You give him a sweet, toothy smile as the Silver starts to leak out of your body, into the cuffs. Theyâre tensed, locked in place, and if you ask nicely, maybe theyâll relax for you. âStop being a fucking pussy. I donât bite.â
âYou shut up.â May hisses as Philâs eyes widen. âIâm not afraid to leave another dent on that pretty, mortal head of yours-â
âItâs less mortal than yours.â You whisper, and the cuffs like your voice. You catch them, right before they clatter on the ground, and keep your hands behind your back. âI can kill you. You canât kill me.â
Phil swallows. âSheâs right-â
âYou shut up too.â May snaps, but thereâs something more cautious in her tone as she watches you. Her hand has glided down to hold her knife.
Sheâs worried.
Good.
âYou donât even know how you can kill us,â May drawls your name, but thereâs no arrogance in her voice. âYou just lose control, you bitch. Iâm not that worried about a holy little whore who doesnât even know what she is.â
You donât know what you are. You donât know how youâve ever killed these demons, only that you wanted them gone, so the Silver obliterated them. You obliterated them.
And right now, you want Dean.Â
Itâs all you know. All you need to know. You love Dean, you want him, you need him, and heâs not allowed to die.
The Silver is starting to turn into a toxin, moving and flowing towards the demons, because theyâre in the way. Nothing can be in the way of you getting to Dean.Â
You smile at May, because sheâs right, and so, so, horribly wrong.
You have no fucking clue exactly what you are. What you can do.Â
But for once, the world in total harmony with the blinding, desperate fury in your body to get to Dean, and you are completely, totally in control.
And you smile.
âI donât need to know what I am to kill you.âÂ
The cuffs drop to the floor, you rise to your feet and itâs all the warning they get before the Silver moves in.
Itâs the same as itâs always been. Dean is in danger, and everything in you is going to wreck the world without pain until heâs safe. The Silver strikes into the green, toxic hated of the demons, and theyâre shredded and shredded and twisted and pressed down until theyâre just a fine mist that evaporates into nothing. Into another microscopic piece of the universe that you can fully feel, and thatâs parting and moving however you ask it to.
You grab your knife on the counter, and this isnât the blur, itâs the rush. Youâre aware, but too fast for it to matter. Everything is Silver, and you will get to Dean. You fucking have to. Thereâs not enough time, but you have to.
You donât give a shit where Ruby went, and you donât have the time or care to look for her. Youâre running to your car and starting the engine as the Silver roars and rips through the world, and you never did fill up the gas, but the car doesnât seem to care. The engine is still sparking and turning because you need it to, and it might just be the haze of the rush, but as you speed down the highway cars seems to part around you, switching lanes to clear a path, clearing the way when you take an exit, slowing down to let you ahead because thereâs not enough fucking time.
Itâs starting to press on your soul. Thereâs not enough fucking time. The sun has long set and youâre still hours out, and the world is bending to your favor but thereâs not enough time. The Silver is grinding some sort of gear around the lining of the universe to get you there faster, and make everything else move slower, but itâs getting tired so fast because youâve never done this before. Youâve never hit this depth, where you are everything, and nothing matters to you but Dean, but you matter to everything. Youâre asking the world to move, and it is, and you donât care why but it has to.
For Dean.
The Sky is watching you. Itâs all stars, blinking as casting pure white light, and itâs not doing anything. It hasnât been watching you in so fucking long, but itâs here now, and it can see you, and why isnât it fucking doing anything. If it can see that Dean Winchester is in danger, that you need him, why is the Sky just fucking watching and not doing anything-
When it starts, you almost crash the car.
The Spiderweb lights up with pain. Impossible, burning and searing and tearing pain, thatâs worse than anything youâve ever felt before. Your pain has always remained in your body, always brought you right to the verge of the plummet, but never shoved you into the fall.
Youâre falling now. Everything is still moving too slow, and itâs all still big, but thereâs really only the pain as phantom claws rip at the Spiderweb, and your vision starts to sting and blur.Â
You canât breathe. You canât think. The Silver is crashing so fucking fast back into your body because you canât fucking do anything, and youâre going to fucking fall apart, fall down, youâre going down, down, down, and this light is horrible and too bright and you want to go back, you were supposed have more time-
You have to pull over. Half fall out of the car as the White and the Darkness strain themselves apart, and it fucking hurts, God, it fucking hurts and you canât- You canât- You fucking canât-
Itâs as if the pain slams into a wall. Into an invisible barrier, as all the pain and light and color of the Spiderweb goes further down, and youâre stuck. Stranded. Suffocating on the cold night air as you remain trapped above the earth, and the Sky is branding into your skin but itâs just fucking watching.Â
It wonât save Dean. It will make the air too clear and fresh in your lungs, and the grass on the side of the highway will grow softer as you fall to your knees, but it wonât save Dean.
You.
You didnât save Dean.
The Spiderweb goes dark. It doesnât shatter and fly apart, like the first time he left.
It just turns off. Like a light has been flipped, or the power source has been taken away, and there no more color in your body at all.Â
And you know. You wonât need to see Sam and Bobby turn to you with broken expressions and soft words of apology. You wonât need to check your phone to see a million calls when they walk through the door tomorrow and you arenât there.
Nothing needs to tell you. You just know. The same way youâd know if the atmosphere vanished, all life but yourself withered away, or every drop of water in the world went dry.Â
Deanâs dead.
You failed.Â
And thereâs a brief frozen moment where the wind stops flowing, and the highway lights all grow brighter and brighter until the night is glowing. Swallowed in sparking, yellow light that might as well make it day, clouds moving over above you because Dean is dead and the Sky doesnât get to see you cry.
The Darkness and the White have never been further apart in your body, almost recoiling from each other, getting ready for something that you donât understand, but can feel coming anyway.
The world is bright.
Youâve never felt more. Itâs too much, too big, too dark and bright all at once and you failed-
They collide. The Darkness and White crash together like two stars, but instead of one swallowing the other whole, they burn and burn and burn in your body until theyâre only Silver.
Nothing has ever hurt you more.
Time doesnât rush. It doesnât blur. It just resumes. The world keeps turning.
Dean is fucking dead, but the world is daring to keep moving as if nothing is wrong at all.
Your first scream might be drowned out by the thunder. It might be the thunder.
You donât really fucking care.
And as the Silver explodes out of the body and you just keep fucking screaming, some part of it recognizes the lingering stains of Gold on your car, and moves around it. The pavement of the highway cracks and rips up, the trees around you split and fall away, and the grass beneath your feet starts to grow and grow and flourish and bloomâas if  it can possibly create enough life to ever replace Deanâbut the car remains perfectly intact.
Itâs like a final gash on the Silver, and the whole world goes quiet. The rain is cold on your brow, but you canât feel it over the cold in your body, canât care about it because itâs mixing in with the salt of your tears and itâs all just fucking nothing.Â
Thereâs no light.
Dean is dead.
You donât know what to do. Youâll have to keep going. Dean wouldâve killed you if you just turned into nothing, become a statue of a crouched, weeping something on the side of an overgrown and broken highway. And if you turn to stone, the clouds will move on, and the Sky will see you once more.
It really is watching you, now. You can feel it. Like itâs waiting for one last thing to bend and mold, until youâre just a little less than you are now.Â
You didnât save Dean. Youâd promised him youâd save him, and you tried everything, tried to do it the right, safe way where you didnât give in and Dean survived, but you failed.
And you donât really want to be anything. The world is still Silver, but itâs not in a peaceful way. Itâs the vastness of the hollow spaces between the stars into your body, the last shining part of you thatâs all still calling for Dean.
You donât think youâll be able to look at his body. See his eyes without a soft, teasing light or furious anger in them, staring at nothing. Heâll be mauled, and barely recognizable.Â
Itâll kill you.
But youâd still promised Dean you wouldnât die with him. Youâd pinky promised him. And youâve already broken your end of the dealâkeep him aliveâbut you donât think you can live with yourself if you fail him again.
And everything is Silver.
And the world is still bending around you, as you take long, steady breaths. Itâs dulledâalmost everything desaturated and blurred around the edgesâbut itâs still here, and itâs yours.
Youâre fucking done trying to be better. Be good. Be anything but the monster.
The monster wouldâve saved Dean.
And the Sky is still watching. Still waiting.
You wonât bend for it.
But you think you can make it bend for you.
End Note: May the straying so fucking far from canon begin.
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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#masterlist#Enemies to Friends to Lovers#slow burn#smut#eventual smut#angst#x reader#reader insert#eventual romance#romance#canon typical violence#canon divergent au#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#female reader#godmadeaterribleerror#pining#idiots in love#18+ mdni#Babylon The Great (supernatural)#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean fanfiction#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x you#no use of y/n#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural
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Yandere Castiel pining after a hunterâhis creator betrayed him, so he found a new one.

"Hello mortal, it's me, Castiel."
Yandere Castiel met you after he betrayed heaven for the Winchesters. Cut off from his angelic powers, it was merely a matter of time before his grace dwindled away to humanness. He would be lying to himself if he said he did not fear. More than fear, there was this other fickle notion. This emotion gnawed inside his vessel's muscular organ situated in the mediastinum.
He truly thought God cared for his creations, but he had been brought back by this all-knowing entity, and for what?
He has no purpose except for aiding the Winchesters, which has only 'bitten him in the ass', as Dean says.
He's vulnerable... and that's when he stumbled upon you.
Yandere Castiel appeared out of thin air; well, that's how it appeared to you, seeing as how you are a mortal and are unable to see into other spiritual planes. He took down the monstrosities you had been hunting with relative ease. It left his angelic form wheezing as more of his grace was depleted. He should have simply left you, but something in him compelled him not to.
He introduced himself and naturally you were taken aback. He didn't elaborate any further when bombarded with questions. He offered to heal you.
Yandere Castiel followed you everywhere after that, like a lost hellhound looking for its owner. There was always an angel on your shoulder, more accurately, peering over your shoulder.
He even neglects prayers from the Winchesters and their allies to spend time with you. They did not appreciate him as much as you did. After all, he was only blasphemed and devalued around them. You thanked him, allowed him into your sleeping quarters, and shared private information with him that very few knew.
He already knew these things due to his, well, just being ethereal, but something in him said that he should keep that to himself.
When he could spare the grace, he would stay in his angel form so he could watch you uninterrupted. Apparently humans did not appreciate being looked upon so closely, despite the fact celestial beings are always looking upon humanity. It's another one of those human quirks he does not understand.
You were and still are a fascinating creature. He can't help but get attached.
Yandere Castiel is unsatisfied by the work your guardian angel has been doing. He is hardly able to call it protection, seeing as how Castiel always has to be the one to step in and take care of you. So he tears the wings off of that pitiful excuse and takes the grace from them.
He's keeping the both of you safe. It was only a matter of time before the angel reported his whereabouts to heaven and sent someone far more powerful to eliminate him. Then who would keep you safe? It certainly wouldn't have been the 'angel' heaven assigned to you.
When he appears to you with a stronger grace presence and blood coating him, you are naturally cautious. When you question him, he simply rebuffs and states that he was 'taking care of things'. He doesn't want you to worry, so he presses his lips to yours and makes you forget this little interaction.
It's addicting.
Is this what that abomination Sam Winchester felt when intaking demonic substance?
He still doesn't condone the vessel's actions, but he has a better understanding now.
Yandere Castiel abuses his divinity. Even with limited grace, he obtains it in other ways now. The more human part of him knows this is wrong, but the angel part of him says that this is righteous. It is, isn't it? He's serving humanity through one human. His human.
He isn't shy about those fleeting touches of his. He is often tempted to let you harm yourself in incrimental ways so he is able to step in and 'kiss your boo-boos'. It is another human phrase he has grown fond of, even despite its juvenile connotations. It isn't required that he has direct contact to heal your wounds, but you do not need to be made aware of that.
Unfortunately, he cannot prevent certain incidents from occurring. So he wipes your memory. All those negative emotions you felt towards him cease to exist. He is your sinless guardian, your angel, your soul mate.
He allows you to get high on his grace. All of your problems fade away, and there is only him.
In those moments, you see him how he sees you, as the only being in creation worth attention.Â
Yandere Castiel thought it could not get any worse than ridding you of stray entities. Wherever God is, they must be either punishing him for his disobedience or testing his loyalty to his human. A cherub of all lower ethereal entities is trying to mark you with an enochian love sigil. Heaven is trying to force you to have an 'other half'.
His patience runs thinner than God's love.
He tried to use his words, but the cherub was just so persistent. He snapped all of the arrows first, then he grabbed his angel blade and plunged it into the love being's skull. That was after he tortured the information about this false soul mate those fuckers on high wanted to force upon you.
Your bloodline needed to be preserved because your line was fated to do something greater. He knows better than to trust the words of those in heaven. If your bloodline needs to continue, Castiel can always help you copulate.
So your 'soul mate' ends up dead. He binds your heart to his vessel's without your knowledge.
This is how it was always supposed to be.
Yandere Castiel has you with him now. You are undeniably attracted to him, which makes it so easy to persuade you. He is able to create distance between you and the hunter life. It's almost perfect, except for his apparent duty to the Winchesters.
He is confronted after neglecting them for nearly a year. He brushes it off like he has before, but they persist. He cannot allow you to be near them! They are the center of the world's supernatural troubles. His hand is eventually forced.
So he's fiercely protective, always a wing around you. Neither better get the faintest idea of wanting you. You're his.
#supernatural#supernatural x reader#yandere supernatural#yandere supernatural x reader#supernatural fic#spn#spn x reader#castiel#castiel x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere angel#yandere castiel#yandere castiel x reader
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so you're anthony j. crowley, long-time exile from heaven and recent exile from hell, and you've finally figured out that the mess of overwhelming and infuriating and intoxicating feelings you've been harboring for the only being in the universe you've ever been able to rely on might, whoopsies, be something a little bit like love. but not love the way you remember heaven loved you, or the way they told you god loved you (they lied), but love like the humans do it: messy, and awkward, and incongruously infinite, and so, so fragile.
and, well. okay, you think. this'll be horrible. embarrassing for both of us, probably. but i'll tell him. you've never been a coward, no matter what the other demons might say. screw your courage to the sticking place, or whatever. macbeth. aziraphale loved that one.
so you talk yourself into it, you gather every scrap of courage and honesty you've got left, and you say, all right, angel, i've got something to say, only aziraphale's got something to say, too, and--
aziraphale doesn't love you back.
or. he does, but he loves the ghost of the angel you used to be, not the person you've made yourself since. he loves you, but he loves you like god did--loves you good, and quiet, and dull. he loves you without your grief, or your anger, without even that first bite of the apple. he wants you like that again, he says. defanged, like the Antichrist's domesticated hellhound.
(you worked for hell for a long time, and for god for a long time before that. you're intimately familiar with what it is to offer someone everything they've ever wanted, and then to twist it, to mutilate it, into an unrecognizable hell of their own choosing. you're not sure why it surprises you anymore. you're not sure why you keep letting the surprises hurt.)
and so you do the thing you've done since the beginning, because you've never been able to stop yourself: you push. you push hard, and you grab him, and he's so angry and you kiss him and you don't think about it, don't think about it, this is the most important temptation of your life, the only one that's ever mattered--
and he forgives you.
so you leave. at least that way you can do it before he does. you've always been a step ahead and to the left; stupid to think this would ever be different. stupid to think he might choose you, with all of heaven and earth spread out in front of him. nothing lasts forever, not even the stars.
he told you that a long time ago.
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens season 2#good omens spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers#gos2 spoilers#good omens s2#good omens meta#ish?#aziraphale#crowley#oh god. crowley#is that all the tags. i dont know. ive slept 3 hours in the past 48.#how we feeling. i for one would love if michael turned me into a pillar of salt.
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I really do think Beelzebub had the potential to be the most sinister of the Sins. She's the Sin of Gluttony and she encourages people to overindulge and act upon their vices (unless they're Mammon apparently) because she revels in excess, but what if there was a darker side to her?
Amongst the dregs of Hell, Bee is considered a blessing. A kind woman who will help those in need to find happiness and is always willing to lend a helping hand to the hapless nobodies. However, things are not always what they seem with her. In reality, she's a master manipulator and the biggest enabler in Hell. How she 'helps' people is by encouraging them to act upon their vices, not so subtly goading them into developing addictions. She always has a bountiful supply of products to feed into these addictions. Addictions they cannot financially support.
And who does she mainly target? Hellhounds and Imps! The lowest of the low, basically slaves! She builds a false sense of security and friendship with these poor Demons, pretending to understand what they're going through and making the friendless think they have someone who cares in this scary violent world. She preys upon the weak and vulnerable.
Due to her position and status, Bee has never had to worry about money issues. Her customer base however, they tend to reach the point where they can't support their addictions. Almost instantly, Bee will turn upon them, throwing herself a big pity parade about how betrayed she feels, threatening to cut off her customer. Unable to turn away from their addictions, they will beg for another form of payment, which is exactly what Bee has been waiting for. Her 'friends' will sell their souls if it means being able to feed their addictions, which Bee happily accepts.
At that point, Bee has won. She's earned another sucker's soul, where they will join her army of slaves to produce more of her delightful products, which will inevitably be used to lure in more unsuspecting victims.
Her influence is so strong that she has customers in practically every corner of Hell, all on her payroll. All suckered in by her kind facade and promises of numbing the pain.
-
Thoughts?
#helluva boss salt#anti helluva boss#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#anti vivziepop#constructive criticism#helluva boss beelzebub#beelzebub#rewrite#helluva boss
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Mortal Poseidon AU
Why is it in fics when Zeus discovers Percy's existence early, it's always Sally who gets killed off as punishment? Why not Zeus punishing Poseidon by turning him mortal? It's not like it's the first time he did that. Plus, makes more sense to me than why Apollo got turned mortal in TOA. Maybe, Zeus punishes Poseidon by making him mortal until the great prophecy is over, be it the sea spawn or someone else's.
Imagine mortal Poseidon awkwardly knocking on Sally's door with a sheepish look on his face, explaining what happened and asking her for help and a place to stay and in return he'll help with raising Percy and keep him out of trouble. And ofc, Sally helps him. She still loves him afterall. Also, Poseidon flirts with her, saying how thankful he is, and saying how wonderful she is.
Imagine little Percy being confused at seeing a new guy in their living room, making his mom laugh. Sally introduces Poseidon as Percy's dad, he finally was found after being lost in sea for years! (Poseidon raised an amused eyebrow at that, but played along) Percy is ofc ecstatic! He's so happy his dad returned! Also, It means mom wouldn't have to date that weird stinky man she met at the store!
So, yeah. The first few weeks of them living in a tiny apartment. Sally working during the day, teaching Poseidon how to clean and cook and normal mortal things he doesn't know by night. Poseidon trying to get used to being a mortal while trying his best to protect Percy when walking his son to school and back, thankful that he had the foresight to assign some loyal Cyclops to watch over his son so he was able to get a decent weapon from them.
A typical day for him is waking up to Sally softly shaking him awake as she's about to leave for work, Poseidon taking a quick shower to energize himself and get started with preparing Percy's school bag, packing up the homework they did together last night, and a quick ham and cheese sandwich and juice box for lunch, before waking up his son in fun ways, such as, tickling him awake, or pulling his blankets away, etc. 'cooking' breakfast aka 2 bowls of cereal (for now until he learns more), amusedly watching his son run around trying to get ready for school, making sure he has his weapon hidden on him, walking his son to his primary school, waving him goodbye at the gates, patrol the area for monsters and slay them before they get to close, try and practice any of his powers, Zeus didn't take them all, since he still gets healed and energized by water. Talk to the river nymphs to pass on messages to Atlantis, just updates on how he's doing, pick up his son from school, visit Sally in the candy shop with Percy, go home, help Percy with homework, with a lot of water and sea comparisons, 'help' Sally with making dinner (her teaching him how to cook), listening to Percy retell what happened in school during dinner, watching Sally tuck in Percy for the night, and repeat.
Maybe Percy saw his dad slay a monster when they were walking home, maybe a hellhound got too close, and is ofc, scared and confused. But his dad saved him so he trusts him. And Poseidon promised to explain what happened once Sally is home with them, they'll explain together. And Percy, frustrated at being asked to wait, but reluctantly agreed, he wants his mom anyways after that scare, stayed close to dad the rest of the walk, eyeing every alleyway, paranoid.
When Sally got home, Poseidon pulled her aside and explained what happened, telling her that they need to explain to Percy what he is, and that he needs to start going to camp. Ofc, Sally refuses, she'll agree to explaining that monsters are real and that Percy needs to be careful, but not to camp, he's only 8 yrs old! Why can't Poseidon just protect her baby like he said he will? Poseidon points out that Percy needs to learn how to protect himself someday, and he can't be with him all the time, like in school, and, how about a compromise? Percy goes to camp once per week, maybe on Saturdays, he'll even let Sally inside the barrier to oversee Percy's training, once he talked with Chiron about the arrangement. Plus, there's a 8 yr old girl in camp that just joined last year, maybe Percy can have a friend that understands his troubles? And Sally reluctantly agrees. Once a week, and she gets to watch.
So, they explained everything to Percy, that monsters are real, he's a demigod, and dad is/was a god, and that he's sorry for leaving them, but it was the Law, and that he needs to go to Camp to learn how to fight monsters.
Once in camp, Annabeth got curious at the new kid who's her age, who has his mom and dad with him, with Chiron bowing to the dad, and answering the mom's questions. The dad, somehow, agreed to be the water fighting instructor, for once a week when his child was at camp, and the mom gets to supervise his camp activities. The new kid doesn't sleep in any cabin since he always went home after campfire with his parents. Annabeth, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, started to go out of her way to talk to him. And slowly became friends with him. Once Annabeth told him how she loved playing with Legos, Percy brought his small bucket of Legos with him the following week to play with her. Once, Percy complained about a history essay he had to finish by Monday, and Annabeth helped him write it in between their (ahem) 'child-level' training. (They're 8! Way too young for the normal training level.)
Poseidon cheekily waving hi to Dionysus, enjoying being in the presence of kids who think he's so cool, and able to leave camp whenever, only teaching once a week and able to freely interact with his kid.
Sally bringing cookies for Percy and his new friend Annabeth to snack on in-between studying and training, the one who has a box of colorful bandages for small cuts and bruises, not serious enough for nectar/ambrosia/medbay, (Chiron warned her that too much will burn them up literally, and it's easier to overdose with how small they are, so, iodine and bandages for scrapes and bruises for now) and a camera to record her baby's achievements no matter how small. First time canoeing with dad? Snap! First time wearing armor? Snap! First time campfire s'mores with Annabeth? Snap!
This! Gods, I have so many ideas for this au. Please, if anyone writes this, please tag me.
#PJO#PoSally#Percabeth#Poseidon#Sally Jackson#Percy Jackson#Long text post#Be warned#Fox rambles#Fox blahs#Fox writes
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Beelzebub/Vortex
Boy oh boy they are so deceptively healthy!!! Let's get into it â.Ë
For Bee's design, I really wanted to keep her general "overwhelming" look. I've always sorta loved how Beelzebub looks, it makes a lot of sense for the Gluttony Sin to be A LOT to look at. That being said, I took away her fire motif as that is sorta given to too many characters and I changed her colors to match her "formal" look (which I HEAVILY prefer). I also put a little splatter marking around her mouth like she has food on her muzzle, which I think is sorta cute :333 ALSO I wanted to bring in the BEE in her design, esp her Big Fuckoff Demonic form. So I turned her normal tail into a little stinger in both looks and kept the antenna on her ears. I also decided a horrible maw of teeth on the underside of her tummy is a good move, just in general it adds some body horror. Also, naturally, I put some meat on her bones and she will no longer be â¨weirdly fatphobicâ¨. She can be chubby and still the hottest girl in the room and it's weird that she was skinny in the first place. As for her personality, I still want her to be surface level very pleasant and fun loving. For sure some mean girl vibes and very manipulative as all temptations are. She's the type to get someone high and one they're having a Shitty Time to leave them alone because they're a "buzzkill". Her dating Vortex is a majority because she's bored and she's had other partners in the past. Of all of the sins she's the one that "hangs with the color class" the most. Once Vortex doesn't scratch that itch for her, she'll be gone pretty quickly without a any real explanation. She's always chasing honey so to speak, a new high. I also wanted to focus in on her making The Pounds in Gluttony for Hellhounds, like I touched on in Loona's post. She not only is the reason for so many orphans/unwanted Hellhound pups, making parents of these kids be in compromised positions and having them addicted to substances, but she also made the shithole that the pups would go to. And while there's something to be said about her making the thing in the first place, she only cared enough to create the idea and not monitor it, why would she? Hellhounds live and die so fast, she's eternal, it's a speck to her despite her having more empathy than most sins.
At the very least, she's not judgmental, she knows that it certainly isn't her place to be. This is also probably a good place to talk a bit about what I'm doing WITH the sins. I'm going with the telling of them being former Angels that fell after The Apple Thing. Lucifer being the only one acting of his own volition to DO The Apple Thing and basically groom Lilith and Eve into a relationship before they even had FREE WILL (why does not one talk about that?? help????) Anyway, Bee was the third to fall and it was mostly due to messing with Earth's Plants and MAKING illicit substances able to be made. * I MIGHT change that, since in The Bible, Beelzebub falls because they go against Adam's wishes but it doesn't make sense with the timeline I'm workin with * The Sins are destined to be what they are the second Sin is created, Beelzebub can't help how she acts as much as Mammon couldn't help picking up a dollar on the ground. It's a compulsion at the end of the day and an eternal punishment that SOME have taken better than others. Bee is a prime example of leaning into it fully and trying to keep upbeat, sure she may never see Heaven again but she's having a hell of a time. Just hope she never gets sober or has a party go poorly because THAT is when it's dangerous. (I plan to showcase this eventually and give her a reason to dislike Loona/Blitz). But there's more Sin Stuff to get into laterer and NOT right now. AS FOR VORTEX, my sweet boy. I always really liked how normal he was in cannon. Just a Good Dude who can be a bit silly, which is exactly the type of guy Bee would go for (this century). Vortex comes from an Actually Together Family in the Lust ring and still works for Verosika as a guard when she's in Hell (currently reworking succubus magic so we'll get there when we get there). So, due to his family, Vortex is accidentally sort of ignorant of how MOST Hellhounds live. Loona has a earring in her ear where her Pound Tag was ripped out, Vortex has a earring there because he saw a bunch of other Hellhounds doing that and only realized after that fact because of Loona WHY Hellhounds have earrings there. Vortex also sorta fell into this relationship with Bee, and he very much sees it more seriously than she does. I don't think Loona talking to him about it would be enough to convince him that Bee is a bad person, sorta has rose colored lenses on for his girlfriend, but this is a DOOMED relationship. For Vortex's look, I didn't change much really- I just realized he looks SO much like Loona. Literally "siblings or dating". So. That sums up what I did with him besides what's literally in the image.
AND as a treat for such a longggg post-
Here's the silly height lineup we have so far
#helluva boss critical#helluva redesign#hazbin hotel critical#hbheavensentdesigns#helluva boss beelzebub#Vortex#vortex helluva boss#I love Vortex so much- our normal nice boy#helluva#helluva boss#helluva boss art#helluva boss rewrite#helluva boss redesign
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đ¤ Can we keep them? đ¤
Characters: Charlie, Lucifer, Alastor, Angel & Husker.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Reader suddenly appears with a baby Hellhound on their arms and asks to keep them, what would their reactions be?

đ¤Charlie
⢠She's extremely surprised when you appear with a baby Hellhound on your arms, even more when you asks if you could keep them.
⢠She would probably say yes without thinking, with her eyes shining of how cute the little dog looks, before she quickly shakes her head and tries to stand her ground better.
⢠She would probably lecture you of how much of a responsability it is to adopt a Hellhound, especially when they're still little and can't do much by themselfs, she would probably also info dump to you about them.
⢠She makes you promisse that if you're going to keep them you'll take good care of them, she actually helps a lot since she grew up taking care of Razzle and Dazzle. She acts like the cool aunt of your new baby.
⢠She's probably the best influence you could get for your child, she's just the sweetest and will help you teach the baby what's right and wrong, will read them bedtime stories, will teach them to sing and to dance. She's simply the best person you could ask for.
đ¤Lucifer
⢠He's a little confused at first, he never put much thought onto the creatures of Hell, but the moment you show him the cute puppy's face, he's melting and allowing you to keep it.
⢠He would try to help to take care of them but wouldn't be very good at it, he never did a proper research on the beings of Hell, he disliked sinners already, he saw no reason to even pay attention to the other beings his past actions had created.
⢠But after you adopt the little hound, he will personaly go talk to Beelzebub and ask her what he should do. He asks her tips, about the best snacks to give them, how many baths should a pup get by a day, he's going full dad mode.
⢠He doesn't take care of a child since Charlie was little and everytime your new baby runs to his arms when he walks in the room to say hi he's in the verge of tears, he'll hold your child on his arms and act like he's the actual father.
⢠Don't even think twice if you need anything for your pup, he's going to give it. They got sick and need a doctor? He's calling someone from the Ring of Sloth just for them. Need diapers or clothes? Boom, they're already at your door. Want to take your child somewhere fun? He'll give you two free access to his theme park Lu Lu Land all rights reserved.
⢠Man is just happy to be able to experience being a father all over again.
đ¤Alastor
⢠The moment you show him the Hellhound you can hear static piercing your ears and the air getting colder, a green energy coming out of him as his antlers grow bigger and his eyes turn dark with only red dots to be found in them.
⢠You get that it's a no pretty quickly and hides the puppy away before he can do anything about it.
⢠But you're not known for giving up easily and keeps the Hellhound even so, making sure they never get too close to Alastor, and by to close I mean in the same room, breathing the same air.
⢠You'll have to try your best to make Alastor slightly fond of the puppy. First trying to give up some signs that you wanted to adopt a baby, then start talking about all the perks a Hellhound has and then later slowly introduce both of them in the same spaces.
⢠Is like showing your old pet your newer pet and praying they get along, but the old pet in question is a powerful Overlord that can easily kill both of you and broadcast your screams to all of Hell and the new pet is a creature that is in the bottom of Hell's hierarchy.
⢠After weeks of trying he would just let you be to be honest, he says you can keep it if you stopped annoying him about and forcing him to interact with them. But sometimes you would find yourself trying to calm him down because the Hellhound decided to walk too close to him or even chewed a part of his coat off.
đ¤Angel
⢠He probably wouldn't mind and say that you could stay with them, it's not his business, it's yours, you do what you want.
⢠Would eventualy grow attached to the hound, probably not as much as some others, but he does enjoy their company.
⢠He likes being the bad influence and would 100% teach your child swear words. He wouldn't be as inappropriate around them tho, he knows his limits and was scolded by you enough times about his actions around such a young figure.
⢠I think if the hound ended up getting friends with Fat Nuggets he would care more, he treats his little pet pig as his own child and would find it rather adorable if they got along togheter, you know for sure he's snapping photos.
⢠Likes to play dress up with you and your child, he would already lend you some clothes and help you take care of your skin or paint your nails, etc. He would do the same with your Hellhound, dressing them up to look all fancy, brushing their fur and giving them little accesories. Y'all probably have matching shirts he buyed for fun.
⢠âWhere did you found them again toots?â; âDoesn't matter, check out this new trick they learned.â
đ¤Husker
⢠Would probably say something like âI'm not your dad, do whatever the fuck you wantâ and keep going with his day.
⢠He would try to ignore the Hellhound as much as he can, he doesn't like children very much and his cat instincts can get the best of him sometimes, making him hiss at the sight of the dog.
⢠But he'll definitely call you out if you end up doing something wrong while taking care of them, he says he doesn't care while teaching you the proper way to hold and to feed them. If you ask how he has so much experience he'll flip you off.
⢠After some time with the Hellhound around, he'll start to accept babysitting them if you ever need to go out to work or to do a importat thing, don't blame him if the pup ends up learning a bad word tho, you are the one leaving them with a drunk bartender in his bar.
⢠The Hellhound and him would start to go really well together and you would find them sleeping in the couch of the hotel's lobby when you return late to the hotel thanks to work, your now adopted child sleeping on top of the man's chest, snoring and with Husker's wing around them both.
⢠You took a photo just to always remember the sweet moments and maybe use against Husker if you needed a favor from him, it always works and you get cute photos so it's always a win-win for you.

#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#charlie hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#charlie x reader#alastor x reader#husker x reader#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin husker#angel dust#angel hazbin hotel#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel x you
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I know there's so much to unpack about the character development of Stolas and Blitz, but I just want to talk about Loona for a sec.
She seems so much happier! And they didn't show that by drastically changing her personality - she's still blunt and brash and a little lacking in tact. But when she joined the gang on their mission, she not only immediately clocked when Blitz was upset, but offered actual comfort. She called him dad, put an arm around him, and even gently volunteered to get the job done for him.
During the fight at the palace, she got stuck right in to help save Stolas - but most of all, it wasn't until Andrealphus was directly threatening Blitz that she brought out her full hellhound form. She almost lost her dad once to that prick, and she sure as hell wasn't gonna let it happen again.
And she has friends! Other hellhound friends! Friends that she invites to holiday parties at her house. Friends that she isn't embarrassed to introduce to her dad, and who in fact seem to like Blitz. Most of all, Loona wanted Blitz to come hang with her and her friends during the party.
Though we don't know the exact details, we do know that Loona had a rough life before Blitz - clearly abandoned by whatever biological family she had, trapped in the hellhound equivalent of an orphanage/residential home, and facing the imminent threat of being thrown out on the streets. During the trial, she almost lost her second family, the one she's been able to scrape together over the years, and I think it made her confront how much she's been holding the world at arm's length this whole time.
I'm just so happy she finally feels safe enough to bring down that prickly shield and let people into her heart. And I really hope we get to see that develop more through season 3, with not just Blitz but Stolas too (can you imagine them bonding over making bitchy comments about the clients that come in to the office I need it directly in my veins)
#helluva boss#helluva boss season 2#loona#blitzø#stolas#mastermind spoilers#sinsmas spoilers#I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS RN
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Iâm sorry but the âfull hellhound formâ of the hellhounds is so ugly. Itâs just a bipedal version with extra eyes and nothing else. And sometimes the eyes arenât on the face theyâre like floating?? And its so annoying how fans will hound (haha) you for doing a different full hellhound form if you donât like the canon version. Iâm a fan who has a hellhound oc and I made my own full hellhound form because the one in show is not scary or interesting at all.
Yeah, Loonaâs full demonic hellhound feral form is ugly to look at. Itâs just her completely on four legs, acting like a dog/rabid wolf, and ugly extra eyes. Her full hellhound form also gives more questions than answers.
How long has she had this form for? Why didnât she use it in previous episodes? Does it only activate when Blitzø is in trouble or when she is super mad? Why are her clothes still on, shouldnât everything be completely gone? Do other hellborns that are on the bottom able to have feral form or is it just hellhounds?
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HELLO?? I LOVE YOUR CLARISSE FANFICS I EAT THEM UP EVERY SINGLE TIME!!! ok ok so i was wonderingggg if you could do dior goodjohn x (actor/singer) reader! their in this interview together just the two of them for percy jackson, the interview makes reader uncomfortable and then clarisse is just like protecting reader! then when they get home they get blasted with edits of them but if you donât do fanfics of the actors thatâs totally ok because i have one for clarisse! clarisse la rue x (athena) reader! the reader and clarisse where friends before clarisse got sent to camp haft blood and so like about 3 years later reader gets sent there too, reader doesnât recognize clarisse before clarisse says this one things that makes reader remember (you can decide on what she says! would be amazing if their could be like a makeout seshđđ) TY IF YIU SEE THIS AND YK MAKE THE FSNFICS AHH LOVE YOUR WRITING



You know where to find me â and I know where to look
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! daughter of Athena! Reader
One of your earliest memories was when you were 13. Running around with clarisse in your private catholic boarding school, skipping class and watching as she would constantly get into fights.
You both looked after eachother, clarisses mom was enlisted in the army thus she lived with her grandma who wasnât the nicest and you.. well your dad seemed to only care about you when he needed something solved.
Forcing clarisse to sit on the schools bathroom sink counter you started to clean a cut on the girls cheek. Not wanting to even think about how youâll get the blood off her light blue uniform top. âItâs not even my fault!â The young girl yelled. âIf Jeremiah thinks âslap ass Fridayâ is so funny then maybe he should get his ass beat every now and thenâ
You just nodded following along with what the girl spoke. Moving a frizzy curl out of the girls way you noticed how she scoffed. âI should just cut this offâ she grabbed the loose curls shoving them into her messy ponytail. âDonât do thatâ you sighed pulling her hands away from her hair. âYou Just Need some help to keep your curls nice thatâs allâ
Clarisses cheeks flushed, she shoved your hands away as she looked to the side. âWhateverâ
âHey!â A teacher aggressively busted into the bathroom. âSkipping class really?! Both of You principal office now!â
Clarisse grabbed your hand pushing past the teacher and down the private schools halls. You laughed as you followed the girl around the school, running down the stairs and past the nuns.
Shoving into a janitors closet and shutting it before the teacher could catch up. You panted while clarisse who Just practically ran a marathon was fine. Turning on the light you plopped down onto a pair of stacked chairs. âHow are You able to do that!?â
âDo what?â
âRun like That and not even be tiredâ you questioned. Clarisse just shrugged her shoulders. âI donât really know I just am I a guessâ she sighed sitting on a shelf.
Finally catching your breath you looked over âHey clarisse?â
The girl set the tool she had been messing with down. âYeah?â
âWill we always be best friends?â You quietly asked. Paying attention as clarisse had an annoyed look on her face she soon nodded. âYeah.. cause youâll always know where to find meâ
You rolled your eyes âwell I always know where to lookâ chuckling you reached out with your pinkie. Clarisse followed suit latching here onto yours. You knew what was between you and clarisse was far away from platonic but what did you know you were just some 13 year old kid.
The next morning clarisse was gone. Not a word not a letter nothing.. she had just left
You promised yourself you would never forget her. At first it started with not remembering how she spoke, then you forgot her face, and soon enough even her name you had completely forgotten.
âââ
Three years later.
After being chased by a hellhound and a few other angry monsters you found yourself at camp halfblood.
The weeks sorta merged together. However once you were claimed by Athena everything seemed to change, new found siblings. People wanting to be your friends and now finally not feeling like you were alone.
Through out your weeks at camp you had heard about a girl named clarisse. The name sounded familiar but you couldnât place it exactly. The fact the mysterious girl avoided you to didnât help either.
â
Annabeth Open the door agressivly throwing her dagger onto the bed. âWhatâs wrong?â You asked looking up from your book. âNothing nothing.. I just got paired to lead a training class with clarisseâ
âAnd whatâs the problem?â
âSheâs terrible What do you mean âwhatâs the problemââ your sister scoffed crossing her arms.
âI just meant that clarisse hasnât done anything to me personally.. I donât think Iâve even met her beforeâ shaking your head you returned to your book.
Annabeth stayed quiet for a moment before grabbing the boom out of your hand. âFine then, if youâve never met her before then you should go lead the class with her.. besides itâll be good for youâ
Begrudgingly you accepted. Leaving your cabin you headed towards the arena, dagger strapped at your thigh.
â
The arena was loud and well⌠sweaty. Joining the kids who were sparring you made your way to a girl who stood crossed arm wearing Greek armor. âUh hi? Your clarisse rightâ You stepped up to her. âIâm annabeths sister she wasnât feeling well so Iâm here to help you uh lead the classâ
âYou have any experience in battleâ she rudely spoke not looking at you. âNo bââ
âThen get lost I donât need any dead weightâ she scoffed before turning her attention back to the other campers who were sparring. âHey! Did I not just say to stop stepping out!!â
You looked at the girl with a irritated face. âIâm not dead weight I can helpâ
Clarisse grabbed her spear before she harshly turned towards you. Just as she was going to say something she stopped. Looking at you for a second clarisse seemed to calm down. âY/n?â She quietly asked.
Stepping back some you looked around confused. âUh yeah.. thatâs my nameâ you nodded awkwardly.
She took her helmet off tossing it aside looking at you excitedly. âItâs me? Remember? no fucking way your a demigod to! I should of guessed you were always the top of our classâ gods how have you beenâ
At this point you were weirded out. âIâm sorry but I donât know you..â She furrowed her eyebrows slightly fustrated. âWhat do You mean you donât know me? We were best friendsâ
You just shrugged your shoulders apologetically. Clarisse nodded taking a moment to think before grabbing your hand, forcing it into a fist with your pinky sticking out. She linked her pinky with yours and gave you a slightly annoyed look. âYou know where to find meâ
It took you a few seconds to register what she said. After an uncomfortable amount of silence clarisse sighed, before she could pull away however you tightly linked your pinky with hers âand I know where to lookâ You smiled âoh my god clarisse!â you laughed hugging the girl tightly.
Some of The campers around stopped what they were doing, shocked at the fact clarisse was being hugged by a pretty girl. Quickly returning to what they were doing after receiving a hateful glare from clarisse.
The strong girl hugged you back tightly, allowing you to pull back you continued to grin. âLook at You! Wow youâve gotten so pretty, and strong to godsâ laughing you reached out to touch the girls face before noticing her hair. âAnd your hairâ see what did I say all you needed to do was learn to take care of it properlyâ
A familiar rush flooded your body. How clarisses hands were now squeezing your hips with her body close to yours- so close you could smell her pine cologne. Your cheeks turned red once you realized you were playing with the girls hair
Clearing your throat you pulled back completely taking a few steps away from her. âSorry I just uh.. I got to excitedâ
Clarisse shook her head âdonât worry about it.. anyways uh if you still wanna help with all this just grab a sword from over there okâ
You smiled in response. It had been years since you felt like that, Clarisse for some reason always made you get flustered⌠but that didnât mean anything.
âââ
Over the next week you found yourself spending every free second with clarisse.
It was like a breath of fresh air. You both had changed a-lot from being 13 to 16 but the same spark was still between you both. You found it amusing how she could go from an Absolute bully to a sweet heart towards you.
What didnât help was how attractive the girl was. Her muscular arms and face that was meant to wear greek Armor made you go weak in the knees. Being gay was something you came to terms with years ago but finding yourself falling in love with your best-friend was just cringe. Out of all the girls at camp you choose clarisse.. really
ââ
The best part of camp in your opinion was the bondfire. Being able to sit around a cozy setting with friends and family warmed your heart in more ways than one.
After some time you were approached by a girl named Willow who you later found out was a daughter of Hermes.
Youâd be lying if you said you didnât like her. She was tall, strong and had a charming face, And she clearly seemed to like you to. âDonât lie to me pretty girl youâve seriously never had your first kissâ
Shaking your head you let out a soft laugh. âNo never, actually Iâve never had a girlfriend beforeâ Willow scoffed, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear she leaned forward some. âWell.. I can offer an easy solution to both those problemsâ that is if you would like itâ she tilted her head some.
Before you could answer however clarisse shoved Willow back from where she was making her almost fall out of her seat. âClarisse what the fuck!â
âSheâs not interested Willow, instead of preying on girls who donât want you why donât you go fuck around with one of your exâ
Campers looking over, embarrassed enough as it was you Grabbed clarisses arm pulling her away. Quickly finding the Athena cabin you threw the girl inside. âWhat was Thatâ you almost yelled.
âWhat was Whatâ she continued to play innocent, now messing around with you stuffâ grabbing s mechanical pencil to mess with. âStop Just stop! Clarisse a girl was finally showing Interest in meâ-â
âYeah a fuck girl who only wants to finger you then break your heart but god forbid I look out for you right!â
âI donât care about that! Itâs still the matter of fact someone liked me and you justââ
âDid you ever stop to think there might me other girls out there better than Willow who like you!â
At this point you were beyond frustrated. âGods can You stop interrupting me!â You watched as clarisse awkwardly shifted her stance, now feeling bad you sighed walking over to the girl hugging her. âI know Iâm new to this whole demigod life and you have no idea how thankful I am for having you hereâ
Clarisse squeezed you slightly. After a few moments you laughed. âWhat did you mean by âother girls here like meâ Iâve only been here for what like a month?â Clarisse didnât respond however her actions told you otherwise. The shifting in her feet, the way her eyes avoided yours, how she held youâ fuck clarisse liked you.
Once you realized it the daughter of ares knew you already figured it out. She cursed under her breath for a moment but was soon caught up in the fact you had grabbed her face and kissed her. The kiss only lasted for a second even though it wasnât that great of a kiss it got the point across. âI like you I like you a lot actually uh clarisse your super cool and sweet and I juââ you started to anxiously ramble until she cut you off with yet another kiss this time it being more directed and sweet.
Pulling away you smiled, keeping your lips close to the girls âyou know what I love about you.. how you always let me finish my sentencesâ the opposing girl just rolled her eyes making you laugh once again
âââ
Once you returned to the campfire you were confused as to why people were making teasing remarks at you and clarisse.. until annabeth pointed out your now messed up hair, flushed cheeks, wrinkled shirt and lastly the growing hickey on your neck.
âââ
Y/n - you are a sociopath these look like you tried to strangle me
Clarisse - Yeah Well you werenât complaining when I was leaving them there
â

#lesbian#wlw#clarisse la rue#clarisse pjo#clarisse x reader#percy jackson fanfiction#clarisse my beloved#clarisse x female reader#butch clarisse#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse x you#clarisse larue#pjo show#percy jackson show#pjo fandom#percy jackson
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boy and his dog au that ive been thinking about
So Edwin was born in 1900 to a wealthy/high class family with hunting dogs. When Edwin was a little bit older (5 or 7) a new litter was born and he was able to pick a puppy for himself. The dog had brown fur and dark brown eyes. He named the dog Charles. It was his first pet, and dog, which he loved dearly and did not use him for hunting, but rather as a friend and protection from other boys. Eventually Charles got old and dies. Another litter of puppies got born a week later and there was another dog with brown fur and dark brown eyes. Edwin claimed that one and named him Charles, bc of how similar this one is to the previous Charles. Also the grief.Â
Eventually Edwin leaves for St. Hils, only coming back for holidays and as the new Charles aged the more he seemed like the old Charles, even growling at people that he had not met before but previous Charles did. Anyways Edwin gets sacrificed to Hell, gets passed around from demon to demon before ending up with the babydoll spider as usual. But one day, as he is running, he hears the sound of a barking Hellhound. He knows that this run is over, but he still has to try even as the Hellhound catches up and eventually catches him.Â
Edwin thinks he's going to be torn apart bc that happens everytime he is caught but nothing happens except that the dog begins to...fuss? over him????? He is able to turn over to see a, relatively, young Hellhound with four eyes the color of dark brown. And even though the snout is too long and the fur is literally flickering with Hellfire, Edwin knows that this is Charles, his Charles who has followed him into Hell.
Edwin gets out this run, on back of his longest companion and oldest friend. However, when they reach the door to get out, Edwin getting off of Charles' back for just a second and opening the door, the baby doll spider catches up. Charles pushes Edwin out and closes the door. The last thing Edwin hears is the sound of fire crunching and the whimper of Charles dying.Â
Edwin gets out 16 years earlier. He stays and haunts St. Hils just for the off chance that Charles is somehow able to get out of Hell. Though he does search for ways to open a door to Hell, it is very hard to do without 1) selling your soul and 2) summoning a demon also. During his 14th year out of Hell a transfer student enters St. Hils with Hellfire under his skin. Edwin, not wanting to be caught, stays away from the kid.Â
Two years later the kid goes against his friends to save another kid that they were beating on, gets dumped in the pond for his troubles and internal bleeding. The kid makes his way to the attic eventually. Edwin thinks his name is Daniel and goes to him, ready with spells and runes just in case. But when he brings the lantern light to the attic he hears-
âWhoâs there?â
âYou can see me?â Edwin says, stepping in front of Daniel, who has damp hair and dark brown eyes that are too old on his young face. Edwin can feel the Hellfire underneath both of their skins, which reaches out and connects them.Â
âEdwin?â Asks the boy wrapped in a too thin blanket, hopeful and relieved.Â
âCharles?â Asks the boy holding the warm lantern light.
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Honesty
Sam Winchester x Reader
lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)
Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?
Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language
WC: 3.7k
You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here
enjoy!
As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.
You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.
Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.
âWe can find another hellhound,â He argues âI kill it then it's all solvedâ
âDean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leashâ You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. âI can do themâ
After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.
âNo, Y/N, you're not doing these trialsâ Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. âYou could dieâ
âWell, too bad Samâ You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. âLook, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, thisâŚinstinct to protect me ever since BobbyâŚâ You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. âBut I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?â You say with a faint smile.
You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.
Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.
He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when youâd touch him were just a natural reactionâŚ
Until it wasnât just. It was. And that was horrifying.
And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials.Â
And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.
âSam, give me the spellâ You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing âcome hereâ motions with your stretched hand. âSamâ
âY/N-â
âDean.â You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought heâd seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Deanâs head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.
âDean, can you give us a momentâ Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.
Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Samâs eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.
âSo?â You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.
He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.
Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Donât let your guard down.
After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty.Â
Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.
You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, godsâŚWhite picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldnât let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldnât have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didnât see yourself getting out.
You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasnât your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated â just becauseâŚwe donât usually bury hunters, so you canât say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didnât have time for falling in love with anyone.
Until. You did.
Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly â no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once âBe selfish, just this one time!â and even so he couldnât. It wasnât his nature.
Sam wanted out of this and you wouldnât let him abandon that dream because of you. You werenât worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.
He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.
At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasnât going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You wonât get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.
Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldnât put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.
âDo you remember the night we met?â Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.
âJohn had left you at Bobbyâs and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explainâ You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you â which didnât last long â and you had lost your parents a few months back.
âEver since that night I knew you would beâŚsomething in the long runâ You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. âI knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to meâ
You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didnât know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.
Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, â more you than Sam given the height difference â hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.
âI can't lose youâ Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.
âSamââ
âY/N. Please.â He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. âI can't lose youâ
He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.
âCan't or won't?â You ask, voice weak.
âBothâ He answers. âBoth because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.â
You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.
âIf I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kidsâŚI can't let you lose this.â You say, tears welling up in your eyes. âAnd I need to do this for you, for Dean, for CharlieâŚLosing me is just a consequence for the greater goodâ
Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.
âYou don't get itâ He says âWhen I look into the future I can't imagineââ He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. âI can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dogâŚthey're ours.â He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.
âSam what are youââ
âAnd you're the wife. My wife.â He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. âSo I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.â He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. âSo, please, don'tâ
Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.
âSam, look at meâ You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. âI love you, tooâ
You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.
He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.
The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.
And it was the same for the Winchester.
He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.
You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.
As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.
Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.
I'm sorry.Â
You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.
âI'm sorry Sammyâ You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.
âY/N, no, please!â He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.
Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.
After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.
âWhy did you do this?â He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.
His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.
You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.
At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.
âI did this because I love youâ You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you werenât done. âI love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. Youâre smart, youâre brave and you went through so much that I canât let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I donât want you to blame yourself, this was my choiceâ
âI canâtâ Iâm sorry, Y/N, Iâm so sorry I got you into this, Iâm sorry I couldnât protect youââ You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.
âDonât say thatâ You whisper against his lips. âDonât apologize for something that isnât your fault. This is on me.â You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.
Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldnât back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.
âWe can do this, I can do this. Iâm strong enoughâ You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.
âI know you are but what if Iâm not?â He asks and you wait for him to continue. âWhat if Iâm not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?â
âYouâll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for meâ You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.
This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.
You didnât get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. Iâll try, for you.
And that was enough.
A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.
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