#real emotional about the word Sammy right now

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

The farmer is a pretty heavy sleeper if even a meteor landing on their farm won't get them up before 6am but what about their spouse? How would they all (sve included if you'd like) react to not only a whole space rock hitting the farm but the farmer reacting with nothin more than a sleepy "oh was probably just a meteor... I'll check that in the mornin."

I had a lot of fun with this scenario, really liked the idea itself. Thank you so much for the ask, and enjoy! 💕

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SDV/SVE bachelors:

Sam said quietly, "Oh, okay," and laid his head back on the pillow, falling asleep again. When morning came, the young guitarist would consider his vague recollection of this conversation a dream. What will be his surprise when he sees an actual meteorite lying not far from their house. "Babe, that could have ended badly..." "No worries, Sammy, but if you want, we'll check it out next time." ...Next time?????

"Did you hear that?!" "Relax, dear, it's just a meteorite..." "Ah, alright... It's a WHAT?!" And the slogan of this Harvey's headcanon: "A meteorite is the best alarm clock! You'll wake up right away!" Although in Farmer's case - they woke up to a fuss made by their worried husband. But you can understand the Pelican Town doctor, too - a bloody piece of cosmic rock fell right into your yard, it's hard to stay calm.

Elliott literally fell out of bed from such a loud sound outside the window, and Farmer continued to snore quietly??? The writer was so confused, he didn't know if he should wake up Farmer or not. "Mmmm... Did'a meteorit fal' again... I'll deal with it tmorrw... 💤" Farmer mumbled, leaving Elliott even more confused. Meteorite? Wha- again? They mean... it's happened before and it's going to happen again?! What is happening?!

"Hon, what the fuck." At first Shane's reaction to Farmer's words wasn't too violent, because he's still sleepy. But after a couple of seconds the meaning of the words reached him, the gyrus in his brain started working and he shrieked: "The coop! Charlie!" The realisation that the animals might have been hit by the meteorite instantly brought Farmer to their feet.

No matter how hard Alex tried - his spouse slept like a dead man, muttering that they would check the source of the noise tomorrow. What do they mean, tomorrow?! They need to check it now! Alex can't just leave it alone, so he goes to check it out, with or without Farmer. Whoa, a real meteorite... Erm, shouldn't they tell Lewis or someone about this?

Meteorite or not, Sebastian remained surprisingly calm. He gave up trying to wake Farmer and went to the window to see what was out there. They were right - it was in fact a meteorite, a real one. And there's light coming from it. So cool. "Sure you don't want to come with me, dear?" Farmer mumbled something incomprehensible in response, and the emo decided to go alone, to look at the cool sky rock. Because why not.

Lance sensed something was wrong before the meteorite touched the ground. Fortunately, the far-sighted gallant adventurer had put up a magical barrier that prevented the space rock from crashing into his and Farmer's house or barns. The meteorite had fallen, all was well. "I take it this phenomenon is not new to you?" He smiled as his spouse mumbled "tomorrow..." in their sleep. Well then, they both can look at the meteorite later.

"Razor!" Magnus jumped up sharply from the bed, casting the spell on automatic. The trajectory of the falling meteorite was reversed, and the celestial stone plummeted into the water, no longer posing a danger to the forest. "Farmer, meteorite." "Mhmm, five more minutes.... I'll look at the meteorite tomorrow...." Magnus wondered how his dearest spouse could even survive as an adventurer with no sense of self-preservation. It's a damn meteorite!

A whole palette of emotions was bubbling up inside Victor, awake from the noise. What was that! A meteorite? A real one! It's probably incredibly hot right now, he shouldn't go near it.... But it's a meteorite! It's so scary, and so interesting! Farmer, don't hide your head under the pillow, but get a flashlight. Victor's taking them out to see the space rock! Well, and make sure everything's okay and no animals are hurt, too.

SDV/SVE bachelorettes:

A meteorite?! A real rock of cosmic origin fell right on the farm? Maru immediately jumps out of bed and wakes up Farmer. It's unclear, however, whether this reaction of hers is simple worry about putting out the fire from the meteorite fall or that the young inventor is thrilled that she and her spouse will see the meteorite up close! Probably both. Either way, Farmer won't sleep well tonight...

"What makes you think it's a meteorite? Maybe it's aliens? Oh, that's so cool! Get up quick or we'll miss the whole thing! And grab a sword, just in case." The force with which Abigail was prancing poor Farmer made them realise at once that their wife was not going to let them finish their beauty sleep. Unlikely aliens in there, but they'd have to check anyway. Ugh...

Poor Penny is in complete shock at how calmly Farmer has reacted to everything. Don't they care what happens to the farm? What if what fell down caused a fire and everything could burn? There's a forest nearby, it would be a huge fire! Penny tearfully begged her sleepy spouse to check it out before it's too late. Farmer had to get up (they hate to see their lovely wife crying).

"Did you hear that, Farmer?" "Yep, meteorite hit again, I'll look tomorrow..." Leah can already see the fire that has travelled from the glowing space rock to the dry summer grass. Oh no, there's going to be a fire now... She wakes Farmer up with one mighty shove and shouts an emergency. And as much as Farmer grumbled over their interrupted sleep - the artist was right. A forest fire is a very dangerous.☝️

The sound of a meteorite falling may not have been able to wake Farmer, but the shriek of terror of their wife Haley sure knocked them out of dreamland. "Shh, Haley, it's only a meteorite..." JUST A METEORITE?! Is Farmer laughing at her? Oh no, they can't go back to the dream realm now - Haley wakes them up again and tells them to look at that fallen meteorite before something else happens. Haley's half asleep herself, but she's scared, so she'll insist on checking it out now.

Before going to bed, Emily read a daily horoscope in a magazine that she would soon "be given a big sign, so make your decision at once." Nowhere, however, did it say that this "sign" was a huge rock from the sky. But at least she made the decision right away, (and the right one) - getting Farmer out if bed, despite their protests, to make sure the falling meteorite didn't destroy anything. No "tomorrow", it had to be now. She hopes no animals were! Her heart couldn't take it...

Claire jumped up in bed, as if scalded by boiling water, at the rattling of window glass and the vibrations throughout the house. Something had fallen on the farm - and that 'something' is very big. She woke and woke her spouse to no avail, who only responded to the terrifying sound with a louder snore. How did they even manage not to wake up from such a noise? And how could they mumbling so calmly about the meteorite?!

Poor Sophia, frightened by a scary sound outside , immediately pressed herself against Farmer, trying to hide. Farmer kissed her gently and told her that it was just a meteorite, that everything was fine and they would protect her. After saying "it's okay" and "I will protect you" the panic inside Sophia was extinguished and she fell asleep again in the arms of her spouse. The meteorite in the morning would definitely be a shock to her (she thought she had dreamed the whole thing).

After that horrible sound, Olivia not only wakes Farmer up, but also gets almost half the town up, making one call to Lewis and claiming that something terrible has happened on her and Farmer's property. Farmer sleepily tried to convince Olivia that a fallen meteorite was no big deal, but she wasn't convinced. How is that - a huge, dangerous rock from outer space - and not dangerous!

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 26

Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: smut sorta brief

A/N: ONE MOREEEEEEEEEE

----

It was late afternoon, and you had been nursing a cup of coffee, scrolling through potential second hand furniture finds on Facebook Marketplace. Sliding your finger across the screen, you answered with a warm, “Hey, Wilson. How’s my best friend doing?”

Sam’s chuckle filled the line. “Don’t let Bucky hear you say that, I’m doing good, though. How about you? What’s been going on?”

“Everything’s good here,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “Boston is becoming more real by the day. I can’t believe I can say I’m a homeowner, we just had the inspection guy out and everything is perfect.”

“You’re really doing it,” Sam said, his voice tinged with excitement. “I’m still in shock that you’re finally moving out of the city.”

“It feels right,” you admitted. “Bucky and I have been talking about this since we started at NYU, way too busy and hectic. Never thought we’d do it together, and honestly? I’m ready for something new. A fresh start.”

“Speaking of fresh starts,” Sam said, his tone turning playful, “when are you going to drop the bomb on the rest?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I’m telling Wanda and Nat during girls’ night in a couple of days. Steve’s a little more complicated. Bucky’s going to help him move into his new apartment upstate, and that’s when he’s going to tell him.”

“Wow, real division of labor there,” Sam teased. “You get wine and face masks, and Bucky gets a moving truck.”

“Hey, it’s strategic,” you countered with a laugh. “And I have to confess something else.”

“Oh, I love secrets,” Sam said, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “Lay it on me.”

“I don’t think I’m going to work in editing anymore,” you said, feeling your stomach flip at saying it out loud. “I’m thinking of writing my own book.”

The line was silent for a moment before Sam practically yelled, “Shut up! Are you serious? About time! You’ve been hiding that talent of yours for too long.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said, your cheeks flushing even though he couldn’t see you. “It’s just an idea right now. But Boston feels like the perfect place to start.”

“It’s more than an idea if you’re telling me about it,” Sam said knowingly. “I’m so proud of you. Seriously.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, your chest warming at his sincerity.

“So, how’s everything else?” Sam asked, his tone casual. “Things with Barnes are still good?”

“They’re amazing,” you said, the smile evident in your voice. “Better than I ever thought they could be. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Sam said. “I’ve also heard from a little birdie that Steve and Nat have been spending more time together. Any truth to that?”

“There definitely is,” you confirmed, grinning. “They’ve been hanging out a lot. It’s nice to see them finally figuring it out.”

Sam let out a satisfied hum. “Good. I was rooting for those two. Look, let me know the date for the housewarming party once you’re settled in Boston. I’ll be there with bells on.”

“You better be,” you said, laughing. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Sam’s voice softened slightly. “It’s good to hear you so happy. You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader, you know that?”

“Don’t make me cry,” Sam joked. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

---

The apartment was a maze of half-packed boxes, bubble wrap, and the faint scent of pizza from the night before. You were crouched over a pile of books, trying to fit them into an already-too-full box when Bucky walked in, holding two mugs of coffee. His hair was tousled from running his hands through it, a few strands falling lazily over his forehead, and the plain white t-shirt stretched over his chest just right. He looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Coffee delivery,” he announced, his voice warm and teasing as he set one of the mugs on the table near you.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, reaching for it, your fingers brushing his briefly. A spark, familiar yet thrilling, ran through you. “We’re never going to get this done in time.”

“Not with that attitude,” Bucky teased, leaning against the wall, his muscles shifting under the thin fabric as he sipped his coffee. “Besides, we’ve got time. You’re just stressing out for no reason.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Maybe, but I like being ahead of schedule.”

Bucky stepped closer, crouching beside you, his scent—coffee, a hint of cologne, and something undeniably him—enveloping you. He peered into the box with mock seriousness. “You sure you’re not just stalling because you don’t want to leave this apartment?”

You shrugged, the weight of his presence making your heartbeat quicken. “Maybe a little. There are a lot of good memories here.”

Bucky’s grin softened, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your temple. The kiss was brief but lingered, its warmth spreading through you like sunlight breaking through clouds. “We’re going to make even better ones in Boston. Just wait.”

The tenderness of his touch, the promise in his voice, it was too much. You turned your head, capturing his lips with yours, your kiss soft at first, then deepening. Bucky's hands framed your face, his touch grounding yet electric. You let the coffee mug slip from your grip, forgotten as your fingers found the soft cotton of his shirt, bunching it as you pulled him closer.

The world around you blurred, the half-packed boxes and looming deadline fading into irrelevance. Bucky shifted, the heat of his body pressed against yours as his lips moved with practiced ease, drawing you deeper into the moment. A subtle tug of your bottom lip made your breath hitch, and you couldn’t help the quiet sound that escaped you—a sound that seemed to ignite something in him.

Without breaking the kiss, Bucky guided you backward, his movements careful yet unrelenting. You both tumbled over a pile of empty boxes, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. A surprised laugh bubbled out of you, your back against the hardwood as Bucky hovered over you, his weight deliciously pressing you down.

“Guess that’s one way to take a break,” you said, breathless, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

Bucky’s grin was devilish as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath. “That we need to be more careful with the boxes?”

He shook his head, his voice dropping an octave, sending a shiver down your spine. “It means we have to make a new memory here before we leave.”

“Bucky,” you protested weakly, even as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“Don’t fight it, doll,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, then lower, to the sensitive curve of your neck. “Let me take care of you.”

The protest died on your lips as his hands skimmed down your sides, his touch reverent yet possessive. His lips found that spot just below your ear, the one that made you gasp, your back arching against him. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent heat pooling low in your belly. He paused, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm and tantalizing. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You bit your lip, your pulse pounding in your ears. Instead of answering, you slid your hands up his chest, over the hard planes of muscle, and pulled him down to you, your lips crashing together with a need that made your head spin.

“Thought so,” he muttered against your mouth, his tone smug but affectionate.

Bucky’s hands slide beneath your shirt, his touch deliberate yet achingly gentle, like he’s savoring every inch of contact. His fingers skim along the curve of your waist, warm and rough against your softer skin, as he slowly pushes the fabric up and over your head. His eyes flicker to yours as he tosses it aside, the air between you charged with unspoken words. When his gaze finally drops, it’s not just hunger you see—it’s reverence, like you’re something sacred.

You feel your chest rise and fall, your breathing uneven beneath the weight of his stare. A blush blooms across your skin, and you wonder if he notices how the anticipation makes you tremble.

“You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. It’s the kind of tone that makes you believe every word, even as your instinct is to look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention. But you don’t, because you can see how much this moment means to him too.

He leans down, his lips brushing against the swell of your breasts, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. He presses open-mouthed kisses there, his pace unhurried, and you feel the faint scrape of his stubble—a delicious contrast to the softness of his lips. His hands follow the curves of your body, his touch familiar yet thrilling, like he’s rediscovering you all over again.

Your body responds instinctively, arching into him, and your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug lightly, guiding his mouth lower, and he follows without hesitation, his lips and tongue teasing the sensitive peaks of your chest. The heat of his mouth against you sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help the quiet gasp that escapes you.

“Bucky,” you whisper, the sound somewhere between a plea and a prayer.

His name falls from your lips just as your hips shift against him, unbidden, desperate for more. The hard length of him presses against your thigh, a tangible reminder of his own desire, and the realization sends a flush of heat coursing through you.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to sit up and tug his shirt over his head. The motion is fluid, practiced, but there’s something almost shy about the way he pauses, letting you take him in. Your eyes roam over him “Beautiful,” you murmur, your voice soft but full of meaning.

The corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, his hand brushes over yours, steadying you as you reach for the button of his jeans. Your fingers fumble slightly, and you both laugh quietly, the moment laced with affection despite the heat simmering between you. When you finally slide the zipper down and free him from the denim, his breath hitches, and you feel a surge of confidence.

You wrap your hand around him, your touch slow and deliberate, and his response is immediate—a low groan that vibrates through you as his hips buck involuntarily. His lips find yours again, the kiss messy, hungry, as though he can’t get close enough.

Without warning, he pulls you back down to the floor, his body covering yours, his weight grounding you as his hands resume their exploration. Every touch, every caress is a silent declaration, a promise etched into your skin. His fingers slide lower, finding the heat between your thighs, and when he slips inside, your gasp turns into a broken moan.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, his voice a soft command. You do, your eyes meeting his as he watches you fall apart under his touch. The intimacy of it, the vulnerability, is almost too much, but you don’t look away.

“Please,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and he seems to understand exactly what you’re asking for.

He withdraws his hand, and the loss makes you whine softly, but then he’s shifting, positioning himself between your thighs. The weight of him, the way his body fits against yours, makes you feel like you were made for this—for him.

He pauses, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “I love you,” he says, the words thick with emotion.

Your chest tightens, and you reach up to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “I love you too,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you.

When he finally presses into you, it’s slow, deliberate, as though he’s savoring every second. The stretch is perfect, a mix of pleasure and ache that has you gasping, your body instinctively rising to meet his. He stills for a moment, letting you adjust, and you can see the effort it takes for him to hold back.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nod, your hands sliding down his back, anchoring him to you. “Perfect,” you murmur.

He moves then, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. His eyes never leave yours, and it’s that connection—the raw, unguarded intimacy—that undoes you.

Time seems to blur, the world outside fading until there’s nothing but the two of you. His movements grow more urgent, more desperate, and you meet him with equal fervor, your bodies finding a rhythm that feels as natural as breathing.

When the tension finally snaps, it’s overwhelming, a flood of sensation that leaves you trembling beneath him. He follows moments later, his body shuddering as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven against your skin.

In the aftermath, he doesn’t move right away, his arms wrapped around you as though he’s afraid to let go. You press a soft kiss to his temple, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his back.

“I love you,” he whispers again, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

“I love you more,” you reply, and in that moment, there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s true.

“Most romantic floor sex ever” Bucky laughs brushing a strand of hair from your face as he rolls off of you.

Your phone started to ping over and over again “Told you we didn’t have time for this,” you teased, your voice hoarse and shaky as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

“Worth it,” he said with a lazy grin, his thumb brushing against your hip in lazy circles. “But I guess we should get going.”

You groaned, half in exasperation, half in contentment, as you pushed yourself up, reaching for your discarded shirt. Bucky’s gaze followed you, his expression a mix of admiration and mischief.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we’ll really be late,” you warned, pulling the fabric over your head.

“Noted,” he said, chuckling as he sat up and pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Till next time.”

----

The sun was high as Bucky carried another box up the steps of Steve’s new apartment. The place was smaller than his last one, but it had character—exposed brick, tall windows, and just enough space for Steve to live comfortably. Still, it was far. Far from Natasha, Wanda, and even farther from you and Bucky.

“You sure about this place?” Bucky asked as he set the box down just inside the front door. “It’s far from Nat’s, and Wanda’s, and our place.”

Steve shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow as he came up behind him with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But it’s closer to work. The commute was killing me. Besides,” he added with a small smile, “the only reason I moved closer to you guys in the first place was to stay near everyone.”

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, nodding. “I get it. Makes sense.” He paused, watching Steve organize his stuff. “Speaking of moving…”

Steve froze mid-step, turning to look at Bucky. “Speaking of moving, what?”

Bucky shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck. “Me and Y/N… we’re moving to Boston.”

Steve blinked, the words taking a second to register. “Holy shit,” he finally said, setting the bag down. “Boston? That’s a big move. Congratulations, man.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, smiling softly.

Steve studied him for a second, his brow furrowing slightly. “This doesn’t have anything to do with me, does it?” he asked, his tone careful. “Because I’m working on it, you know. I’m starting to see things differently. I actually… I asked Nat out on a second date.”

Bucky straightened at that, a grin spreading across his face. “Did you now?”

Steve nodded, a little bashfully. “Yeah. She really is something.”

“Well, it’s about damn time,” Bucky teased, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “And no, this isn’t about you. Me and Y/N just want a house, something with a yard, and we’ve been thinking about the future. Boston just felt right.”

“The future, huh?” Steve said, his lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “Like a family?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his voice softening. “A family.”

Steve let out a low whistle, leaning against the counter. “Man, we’re getting old.”

“Hell yeah, we are,” Bucky replied with a laugh.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Feels like just yesterday we were sneaking out at night, getting into fights over the stupidest shit.”

“Like that time you dared Y/N to climb the water tower, and she actually did it,” Bucky said, laughing. “She was halfway up before the cops showed up, and we had to book it.”

Steve groaned, covering his face with a hand. “God, I’ll never forget that. She was fearless. Still is.”

Bucky grinned, his eyes softening. “Yeah, she is.”

Steve glanced at him, his expression turning contemplative. “You’ve got something good, Buck. She’s… she’s one of a kind.”

Bucky nodded, his smile small but sincere. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I hope things with you and Nat work out. You deserve it, man.”

Steve looked away, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “She really is something,” he repeated quietly.

Bucky clapped him on the back, his tone lighter. “So, when’s this date?”

“Tomorrow night,” Steve admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think she’ll say yes to a third one?”

Bucky smirked. “If you don’t screw it up, maybe."

They both laughed, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. For a moment, it felt like old times, the weight of life and change lifting just enough for them to breathe.

“Man, life,” Steve said after a moment, his voice soft with nostalgia.

“Life,” Bucky agreed, his gaze distant but warm.

-------

The wine glasses clinked together as you, Natasha, and Wanda settled into the plush couch in Natasha’s living room. The music was soft in the background, and the mood was light, filled with laughter and the warmth of wine. It had been too long since you’d all spent time like this—just the three of you, unwinding and sharing pieces of your lives.

You swirled your glass, grinning. “Speaking of life—”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Wanda blurted out, her eyes wide with excitement.

Your mouth fell open in shock, nearly spilling your wine. “Excuse me?!”

Natasha burst into laughter, smacking Wanda’s arm. “Wanda! Oh my God, reel it in! Let the girl finish a sentence before you start naming her unborn child, she wouldn't be drinking if she was Wanda."

Wanda raised her hands in defense, her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry! But look at her! She’s glowing!”

“Glowing?!” you repeated, glancing down at your stomach in horror. “Do I look pregnant? Oh my God, is it the wine? Am I bloated?” You started poking at your belly, your tone spiraling into a ramble. “Okay, so relationship weight is totally a thing, and Bucky does make the best pasta, but I’ve been good about not going overboard! Besides, doesn’t sex burn calories? We’ve been doing plenty of that—”

Natasha was nearly doubled over, her laughter loud and unrestrained. “Stop, stop! Oh my God, you’re killing me.”

Wanda was laughing now too, shaking her head frantically. “No, no! It’s not like that. I just meant you have that look, you know? You’re happy. Content.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, clutching your chest. “Thank God. You really had me questioning everything for a second.” You paused, side-eyeing her. “But for the record, you should know better than to accuse someone holding a glass of wine of being pregnant.”

Wanda giggled. “Noted.”

Natasha wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Alright, Miss Glow. What were you going to say?”

You straightened in your seat, taking a sip of wine for courage. “Well, I was going to say that Bucky and I are moving to Boston.”

Natasha froze, her wine glass halfway to her lips. Her eyes welled up immediately, and her voice cracked as she said, “What? Boston?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, glancing between them. “We found a house we love, and well, we can work from home, plus Bucky only has to come into the office once every 6 weeks and well that means guaranteed day to see everyone. Plus, we just… we want to start fresh. Somewhere new.”

Natasha set her wine glass down carefully, and then, much to your surprise, she started crying. “I’m so happy for you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I really am. But first Sam, then Steve moving upstate, and now you and Bucky… it’s just—I’m going to miss you both so much.”

Your heart ached at the sight of her tears, and you reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Nat, we’re not going anywhere far. Boston isn’t the moon, and you’ll always have a place with us. Always.”

Wanda hadn’t said anything yet, her expression unusually quiet. You turned to her, concern tightening in your chest. “Wanda? Are you okay?”

She sighed heavily, setting her glass down as well. “I’ve been meaning to tell you both something, actually.” She hesitated, her voice soft. “At the end of the year, I’m moving back home.”

“What?!” you and Natasha said in unison, both of you sitting up straighter.

“My work contract is up,” Wanda explained, her tone bittersweet. “And I decided not to renew it. It’s been amazing here, but I think it’s time for me to go back. Be closer to family.”

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. And then, as if by unspoken agreement, the three of you huddled together in the middle of the couch, your arms wrapped around each other tightly.

“I’m so proud of you both,” Natasha said through her tears. “But this really fucking sucks. This feels like the end of an era."

Wanda laughed weakly, her own tears spilling over. “I know. But we’ll always have this. We’ll always have each other.”

“And road trips,” you added, your voice wobbly. “So many road trips, and Nat its just the beginning of so many new wonderful chapters."

The three of you stayed like that for a long time, holding each other and crying—tears of sadness, of joy, of the inevitable changes that life brought. It wasn’t the end, not really. Just a new chapter. But saying goodbye to the comfort of what you had now still hurt, and none of you pretended otherwise.

“You’re both stuck with me,” Natasha said finally, sniffling. “No matter where we are.”

“Always,” you and Wanda echoed, squeezing her tighter.

----

Bucky and you stood by the moving truck, the last few boxes stacked neatly inside. It was surreal seeing the apartment building that had been your home for years now reduced to a memory. The truck loomed large, a bittersweet symbol of everything changing. Natasha, Wanda, and Steve were there, huddled together on the sidewalk, their expressions a mix of pride and sadness.

Natasha was the first to approach, her arms crossed as if trying to keep her emotions in check. “So, this is it,” she said softly, her voice tinged with emotion.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. This is it.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her usual sarcastic edge melting away. “I’m gonna miss you, you know that?” she murmured, her voice cracking.

Tears stung your eyes as you hugged her back just as fiercely. “I’m gonna miss you too, Nat. But you’ll come visit. And we’ll visit you.”

She pulled back, her hands gripping your shoulders as she smiled through watery eyes. “You better. And if I don’t get weekly updates, I’m coming to Boston to drag them out of you myself.”

Wanda came next, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand that she pressed into your arms. “For your new home,” she said with a small, sad smile. “You’ll make it beautiful, just like you always do.”

You hugged her tightly, the scent of lavender and roses filling the air. “Thank you, Wanda. For everything.”

Bucky and Steve were nearby, their conversation quieter but no less meaningful. Steve clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his expression calm but reflective. “You’re gonna do great, Buck,” he said. “Both of you are.”

Bucky nodded, his voice low. “Thanks, man. And… I hope things work out with Nat. You deserve it.”

Steve looked down for a moment, his lips curving into a faint smile. “We’ll see. One step at a time.”

When it was Steve’s turn to say goodbye to you, he hugged you tightly, lingering for just a moment longer than usual. “I’m soproud of you,” he said quietly, his voice thick. “And I’m gonna miss you like hell.”

You blinked back tears, squeezing him tightly. “I’m gonna miss you too, Stevie. But we’ll keep in touch. I promise.”

The goodbyes felt endless but fleeting all at once, each hug, each word of encouragement, making it harder to leave but also more meaningful. When you finally climbed into the passenger seat of the truck, Bucky squeezed your hand, his own eyes red but his smile steady.

“You ready?” he asked softly.

You nodded, your voice trembling. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As the truck rumbled to life and pulled away from the curb, you looked back through the rearview mirror. Natasha was wiping her eyes with Wanda’s sleeve, and Steve had slung an arm around Natasha’s shoulder, pulling her close. The sight made your heart clench, but then you couldn’t help it—you squealed softly, clutching Bucky’s arm.

“What?” he asked, startled.

You pointed out the window. “Steve and Nat! Did you see that?”

Bucky glanced in the mirror and let out a chuckle. “Well, would you look at that? Those two are finally figuring it out.”

Your laugh bubbled out, mixing with the tears still on your cheeks. “About damn time.”

As the city skyline faded in the distance, the weight of leaving was tempered by the excitement of what lay ahead. The road stretched endlessly before you, and Bucky reached over, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Road trip playlist?” he asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You laughed, reaching for your phone. “You mean the one I specifically made for this drive?”

“Of course you did,” he teased. “Let’s hear it.”

[pagannatural]

2.03 Bloodlust

-Sam flirts with Dean by telling him (and the Impala) to get a room. Meanwhile he’s looking at Dean like this and the two of them are, literally, getting a room.

-Sam tells the bartender “we’re looking for some people” and the bartender says “sure, hard to be lonely.”

Sam blinks wide, grimaces. Dean looks at him, assessing. Sam looks down and then at Dean while he says “yeah, but, um…” slowly, then he regroups and pulls out a fifty, “that’s not what I meant.” There’s a sexual implication to being lonely and looking for someone at a bar, and the brothers share a very loaded look about it. It’s like this bartender accidentally hit on a truth.

Sam has been lonely for Dean. He’s been trying to get Dean to talk to him and spend time with him since their dad died, and Dean has been shutting Sam out emotionally. Sam knows Dean is lonely for him too, even though he won’t say it.

-Sam notices something is off when Dean says he’s been itching for a hunt. He and Dean also make prolonged eye contact after Dean kills a vampire and his face is spattered with blood, and Sam notices Dean is unsettled. They give each other strength just by staring into each others eyes. Sam’s always paying attention to Dean.

-Dean also notices right away that Sam’s off and asks him if he’s okay. Noticing Sam, for him, is less watchful and more like noticing the orbit of his own moon. Gravity’s off, something’s up with Sam.

-Sam went from correcting Dean every time he used Sam’s nickname to “he’s the only one who gets to call me that.” It’s so possessive, like he’s saying I’m his not yours. Dean notices and smiles to himself. Then he says “Sammy remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later” you’re gonna do what to him later?

-Sam’s development from telling Dean he has to let him go to identifying him as the only one who can use his nickname is also the change from Sam seeking distance to Sam acquiescing to being Dean’s.

-Dean tells Gordon a story about killing a monster at 16 while Sammy waited in the car. He didn’t need to mention where Sammy was, he wasn’t a part of the story, but he has a condition* that makes him talk about Sammy to strangers whenever he’s not there (*wretched, soul-crushing love).

-Dean tells Gordon he always thought of his dad as indestructible. Now he’s questioning everything about his dad’s teachings and realizing the version of John in his head is not the only one.

-Sam says he sees through Dean’s fake smile and knows how Dean feels, because he feels the same way. When Sam says that Dean’s behavior is “an insult to [John’s] memory,” Dean kind of nods and raises his eyebrows like ���you have no fucking idea” before punching Sam in the face.

-For once, Sam is way off about Dean. He has no idea how Dean feels or what he’s dealing with. The idea of insulting vs honoring John’s memory is complicated for Dean right now. He’s seeing Sam being protective of John for maybe the first time ever and I can just imagine Dean thinking, I raised you, and the man you finally want to respect as your father asked me to kill you.

-Dean looks regretful after he punches Sam, like he’s realizing he took it too far, and Sam looks hurt and taken aback, his eyes searching to and away from Dean and his mouth open. And then Sam tells Dean, “you can hit me all you want. It won’t change anything.”

There are some potential layers to that.

1. They’re arguing about something else here, at the same time—whether or not vampires can choose to act ethically or if they’re inherently evil. Sam implores Dean not to kill them, believing the former. Dean wants killing to be black and white due to Dead Dad’s Last Words reasons. Hitting Sam won’t make the issue any clearer.

2. Sam’s words could be interpreted as “you can hurt me all you want and it won’t change how I feel.” About Dean. Or “whatever you do it won’t change the way things are.” Between them.

3. Sam has been begging Dean to give him something real and emotional, he’s been pushing and pushing him to get a reaction, escalating and becoming more desperate. Now Dean has responded. He’s hurt Sam, but that means he’s touched him out of uncontrollable emotion—or better yet has chosen to inflict his feelings and needs upon Sam’s body. The pain is better than nothing.

It’s hard to be lonely.

-When I first saw this scene I was shook. Dean hit his baby brother! My best guess is that Dean has never punched him like this before, outside of the context of sparring. I might be wrong about that, but the way Sam accepts the punch and turns slowly back to Dean with that disbelieving look felt too significant. I thought Sam was going to feel betrayed or scared, but Sam’s resolve strengthens, he gazes after Dean, and then he follows him.

And then things go right back to normal between them.

-Another thing Sam is missing is that Dean trusts Gordon partially because Dean can identify with Gordon. Gordon said he hunts vampires because vampires killed his sister, and Dean trusts another protective brother.

-Sam tracks the nest and Dean says “you’re good. You’re a monster pain in the ass, but you’re good.” Just like that they’re reconciled. Sam’s face is probably still throbbing, it’s been like 3 minutes.

-When Gordon pulls a knife on Sam and admits he killed his sister himself, it’s over for him. Dean is not having any of that.

-Dean punches Gordon in the face in front of Sam, then moves really close to Sam to tell him they can leave now. It’s like he wants Sam to see what he’ll do to anyone who threatens him. Dean is the only one who’s allowed to hurt Sam. He also asks Sam to punch him to get him back, so he clearly feels guilty.

-Dean’s true nature is a huge theme in this episode. He’s trying to understand who he is. Gordon tells him that he was “born to hunt” and “a killer like me.” John wrote the same things about child-Dean in his diary.

At the end of the episode, Dean tells Sam that he has the instinct to kill and would’ve killed the vampires. That’s how he was raised, it’s what John told him to do. I love how Dean is a caregiver and a killer in equal measure, he takes naturally to both violence and nurturing.

Sam reminds him he made the right choice. Dean says “yeah cause you’re a pain in my ass.” He made the decision because of Sam. He’ll kill for Sam but he’ll also decide not to kill for Sam.

Sam says “I guess I might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass then.” Dean thanks him and gazes at him intently. Even here, notice the mention of their connection being painful.

Sam is now agreeing to stick with Dean not because of what John would’ve wanted but because he’s accepting his role as Dean’s guiding light, the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose and good.

Dean’s purpose is not killer or caregiver, but protector. He’s guardian of Sam’s soul.

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • XI

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loudThat we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.1k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter eleven - The Drain (EDITED: 09-03-24, not new new to the story!)

new? read from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

The three of us sat in silence, the trees above the courtyard singing with the autumn air. I spoke to them for a few more minutes. I tried to make it quick, knowing that if I stayed longer I wouldn't be able to leave.

“I hope you get to meet her someday,” I murmured as I stood, dusting off my pants.

“I’d like to hear about this girl.”

My stomach dropped as I whipped around in alarm, my heart thumping rapidly once I met his silver completion.

+++++

U̧̢̼̹͓͇̮͈͕̰͑͗ͭ̂̐̓̾̇̑̀̑̌̅̈͟͢͞Ń̷̙͎͍̘͈̰̫̫̭̼͇̻̱͈̝̇͐̌ͧͥ̅͑̏̈̐̉ͫ͝͡͠K̷̴̷̸͇̤̝̥͓̤̖̣̇̏ͭ̇̇̍ͨ͞_̸̸̨̡͎̭̄NͨO̅͆WͨŅ̷̢̮̣̰͚̝̮ͫ̑̾ͤ͌̉̀ͧͪͅͅ

Soon, I’ll kill my final piece of evidence… and soon, I’ll have control of Fidelio.

+++++

RUFFILO

With my phone in hand, I paced back and forth across the room. Jolly and Folio’s eyes tracked my every movement, while Juice mewed from Folio’s lap. Despite their attempts to comfort me, not even a cute cat could cheer me up right now. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen, feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

I ran my thumb across the glass to refresh the app once more. No new messages. Clicking the call button for the hundredth time I almost screamed once it rang until voicemail again.

“Noah’s been gone for hours.” I swallowed harshly, “and there’s still no trace of Y/N.”

“Nicky-” Jolly began, standing up from the couch to place a soothing hand on my shoulder, stopping my pacing briefly, “I’m sure Noah’s fine- he’s probably freaking the fuck out looking for Y/N. Maybe even went to the cafe and Sammy’s to fill her bosses in…”

My stomach sunk at his words, and my mind began to race. Something didn’t feel right. I knew Noah, and something felt wrong. He told me he was going to go to the cemetery to clear his mind- and I don’t think he wouldn’t go find Y/N by himself, not after everything that happened. He knew we were stronger in a group.

I shook my head, refreshing my phone for the hundredth time before moaning in frustration, “No. I think he’s in trouble.”

“He’s probably still at the cemetery,” Nick reassured me, standing up with Juice in his arms.

“Can we go look?” I asked, eying both of them as I pressed call, ringing Noah again. No answer.

“He took Y/N’s car so we’d have to walk…” Jolly groaned.

Nick snorted, “Walking is for plebs. Let’s just Uber.”

“Really?” I sighed, giving my brothers a look of relief that they’d come with me.

Jolly laughed, patting my back as we grabbed our shoes, “If it eases your mind seeing him talking to some headstones, then let’s go.”

I threw him a look, glaring, “You know it’s not just any headstone.”

“I know, Nicholas. I know.” Jolly reassured me and I nodded curtly.

After half an hour, we reached the cemetery and I noticed that Y/N's car was still parked in the lot. My mind filled with a glimmer of hope as we walked down the unkempt path. However, the atmosphere was stagnant and my throat tightened with anxiousness. As we approached Noah's parents' plot, my hope faded away as there was no sign of him anywhere.

“I don’t see him,” I mumbled, walking with haste down the path.

The graves were now in sight and I sucked in a breath, shaking my head. Even though the car was still there, something was wrong.

There was a fresh set of white flowers scattered across the front of the graves, the vase that normally sat between the stones lying on the drying grass.

“He could have just left,” Nick chimed in, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Without the car?” I shrugged him off, pointing at the flowers, “He wouldn’t have laid them out like that. Why is the vase knocked onto the ground?”

Squinting my eyes at something that lay a few feet away from the stone, I felt my chest warm, and my head began to shake. My limbs halted and I watched Jolly brush past me, his head tilting as he bent down, picking up the black object.

“Is this-” He began, flipping it in his hand, inspecting the singular sneaker.

“Noah’s,” I said, my stomach dropping.

Folio shrugged, “It could be anyone’s.”

I reached for the shoe, pointing to the hole that was beginning to form on the toe, “No this is one hundred percent Noah’s- the hole forming? He’s had this pair of vans for over a year. Plus, they’re a size twelve.” I peeled back the tongue, analyzing the faded tag.

“How would he lose a shoe here?” Folio asked.

“He wouldn’t,” Jolly said, looking around the cemetery, his body turning quickly as he scoped out the trees, “He would have taken it off on purpose.”

I turned around, my mind beginning to spiral. First Y/N, now Noah.

He had to have been taken.

“Do you think he’s leaving a clue?” I whispered, staring at my brothers before glancing at the grass, my feet carrying me further into the cemetery.

“Those twins must’ve taken him,” Folio spit angrily, his fists clenching.

I watched Jolly as he leaned around the headstones, his fingers tracing the rock for any signs Noah may have left, before picking up one of the flowers. He twirled it between the pad of his thumb and index finger, staring at the dishevelled petals.

“There aren’t enough flowers here to be a full bouquet, and some of the petals are ripped…” Jolly’s eyes locked with mine briefly before I scanned the ground and trees, landing on a speck of white in the distance.

I pointed as my feet carried me towards the spec, “There.”

A few petals were dispersed down the path, and as I peered ahead, another sprinkle of white caught my gaze.

“I think he’s left a trail,” I said, my breathing becoming erratic as my eyes widened, fear sinking in.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick jogged up to me, pushing my shoulder to send me forward.

The three of us ventured deeper into the graveyard, passing various weathered tombstones, and surveying the ground every few feet for new petals. The further we walked, the more sparse the trail became. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

“Should we keep going?” Jolly asked, pointing to the gate that was open at the back of the cemetery.

Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking, “We might as well.”

As we approached the gate, I felt a chill run down my spine. The rusted iron creaked ominously in the wind, and beyond it lay a dense thicket of trees. The forest looked dark and uninviting, but I knew we had to press on.

"I don't like this," Folio muttered, his eyes darting nervously from side to side.

"Me neither," I admitted, "but we have to find Noah."

We stepped through the gate, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. The trees loomed over us, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers. I strained my eyes, searching for any sign of white petals or a clue from Noah.

Suddenly, Jolly grabbed my arm. "Look!" he hissed, pointing to a nearby tree.

There, caught on a low-hanging branch, was a scrap of fabric.

+++++

Y/N

The lights in the room flickered, casting a yellow hue that created eerie shadows against the walls and made my head spin. The air was heavy and damp, permeated by a sense of despair that seemed to cling to every surface.

I coughed, my eyes burning from tears as I lay on the bed in the motel room. My limbs were bound tightly, and I struggled against the ropes for what felt like the hundredth time. Each tug only caused the rope to dig deeper into the wound it had created.

It had only been two days since I arrived here, but it felt like an eternity. Two days of pure agony and torture.

The door of the motel room clicked open, and I reflexively tensed up. But my fear quickly faded when I saw that it was Kiean. He came in holding a bag of fast food, and the delicious smell immediately made my stomach grumble. I tried to hide my hunger by swallowing hard and pushing away the urge to eat. But my stomach betrayed me with loud noises as Kiean locked the door and glanced at me with concern. "Are you going to finally give in and have something to eat?" he asked, tossing the key onto the rickety table by the wall. I avoided eye contact, keeping my mouth shut and refusing to engage in conversation.

The blonde walked over to me, the ice in the soft drink chittering against the paper cup as he placed it on the nightstand. He then opened the brown paper bag, pulling out some fries and some chicken strips.

Kiean's attempt at a smile was met with me turning my head away. He let out another sigh and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I struggled against the rope holding me still, trying to distance myself from him, but my leg remained pressed against his back. The contact only fueled my anger.

"I even made sure to get your favourite sauce."

Old friends, same disease I'm killing myself again Old friends, same to me I can't get away from it

With a stern look, I directed my gaze towards him as my stomach grumbled once more. The tantalizing aroma of greasy food wafted in the air, making me feel even more sick with hunger. My throat was parched from lack of water. Kiean's eyes followed me with worry as he removed the wrapper from the straw and dipped it into the beverage before holding it up to my lips.

"Please drink, Y/N," he urged me.

The paper brushed against my lips and I squeezed them together, closing my eyes in resentment. He held the cup for almost a minute before I broke, taking the straw into my mouth and sucking up the liquid. I downed the entire thing, gasping for air once I stopped.

“Thank you,” Kiean murmured, opening the box of chicken strips and sauce. I tugged at the rope again before wincing as it dug into the laceration that formed.

Kiean’s brows furrowed as he stared at my wrist, before holding the strip to my mouth for me. No longer able to resist I took a bite and almost moaned at the flavour, swallowing greedily.

“Stop tugging on the rope,” He almost pleaded, “I’m sorry it’s hurting you. Kade would kill me if I took them off.”

Old friends are just a memory That I didn't need

His green eyes bore into me with unease, “You know how he is.” Yeah, I do.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as he fed me. I was grateful for the food nonetheless, despite them kidnapping me and tying me to a bed frame. I don’t think I could have made it much longer without eating.

One question frequented my mind, and as much as I didn’t want to talk, I knew that deep down I was safer with Kiean than his brother; and I was afraid that at any moment, he would step through the door.

“Where is Kade?”

Kiean’s head snapped toward me in shock, surprised that I finally spoke.

“Oh- he’s out right now,” Kiean shrugged, turning his gaze to the floor, “I think he’s looking for your boyfriend.”

My heart clenched in worry, mind wandering to Noah and the boys. Were they okay after the crash? Were they hurt?

Were they looking for me?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I mumbled, staring at the blonde. He turned to face me, eyes analyzing my expression. His pupils dilated in knowing, his stillness a telltale sign he knew something was up.

Kiean was always able to read through me.

“But you have feelings for him,” He said as we watched each other, the gaze between us speaking for me.

I tried my best to remain stiff, but I nodded, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know why you left Y/N,” Kiean looked away, looking at his hands that were folded in his lap, playing with his fingers, “and I don’t blame you for leaving.”

“I couldn’t handle it anymore. So many people were hurt. So many people dead.” I whispered, my voice wavering. I blinked in an attempt to hide my tears, but that only made them fall down the skin of my cheeks.

Kiean picked at his nails, “I’m not gonna lie, you fucked us over.”

My mouth formed a straight line as I stared at the patterned bedsheets.

“The whole syndicate fell once you left. Matt followed. Then Orie, then Bryan. Our organization collapsed after you disappeared…and the Rule Maker took over. You know how much that would have pissed Kade off.”

My body stiffened at the mention of the Rule Maker. He was the biggest crime syndicate in North America other than us; always trying to take Fidelio down.

“Once business shifted and we tried building up again- but since we lost the crew it was almost impossible. We became petty dealers for a bit, but no one wanted to deal with Kade anymore. So, we’ve been working under the Rule Maker as the foxes.” Kiean sighed.

“And he’s blamed me for everything,” I laughed bitterly.

Kiean nodded, “I mean, our business fell apart once you left Y/N. We have nothing now.”

“So you blame me too?” I asked, glaring at him. Kiean didn’t say anything.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t want to be part of that shitty lifestyle anymore. I was tired of being used, and I was tired of being part of a problem,” my voice began to rise, “So many people got hurt, and I did some heinous things. I needed out, especially after everything with Kade happened.”

“Kade has issues, I know… but he loves you Y/N-”

“Oh fuck off!” I yelled, my body pulling against the restraints in frustration, “Don’t you dare say he loves me.”

My chest heaved as venomous words left my tongue, “What he did to me was not love. I wish he was dead.”

“Look-” Kiean placed a hand on my own, which caused me to flinch. I tried pulling away, but couldn’t due to the ropes grasp, “I know you’re angry. You hate him, and you hate me, but we need your help.”

“Why would I ever help you,” my teeth clenched in animosity.

Kiean watched me carefully, “You put that mask back on for your friend.”

I avoided his gaze once again.

“You knew we’d be able to find you, and you knew Kade would come in a heartbeat…So why did you risk everything you ran from, for him? If you were so done with this life, why are you willing to return for this guy?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “He needed help.”

“Y/N,” Kiean’s green irises begged, “If you’re willing to help someone you just met, can’t you help us? Help me?”

Kiean knew he was my weakness. He had always been there to save me from Kade’s hands. He protected me and kept me safe, despite how awful life was back in Canada. He was my best friend. He was my brother.

“We’re going to take down the Rule Maker,” He said firmly, standing up from the bed now.

“Excuse me?” I scoffed, a laugh almost escaping my lips from disbelief, “What?”

Kiean turned to the closer in the motel room, pulling out three fox head masks. Kiean’s, Kade’s, and…

“Yours,” Kiean said, holding up one of the masks. The silver paint glinted slightly from the flickering yellow motel light.

“We need your help, just this one last time. I promise we’ll leave your life for good if you help us.”

I stared at the mask, almost rolling my eyes, “And if I say no?”

The motel door opened, and I sucked in an anxious breath. Kade slammed the door, his expression furious as his sweat-stained hair hung over his forehead. My limbs warmed nervously as my lungs collapsed, air unable to escape.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away

Had he been listening this whole time?

“Then I’ll kill you, and your little fuck toy,” Kade seethed, lifeless orbs glaring in my direction.

Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

NOAH

It was the fear of the unknown that amplified the sense of vulnerability and helplessness I felt. Being at the mercy of someone else and unable to anticipate their next move, left me terrified and completely hopeless.

The blindfold that covered my vision left me anxious as my body thrashed back and forth from the restraints that tied my arms back, the metal cold against my skin. As I attempted to wiggle free the chains that held me swung against the chair, clanging in my ears. The wind whistled around the building I must’ve been in, causing me to shiver.

I screamed angrily, swinging aimlessly before the chair toppled over and I landed on the cement ground with a thud, the side of my head smacking into the pavement.

I didn’t necessarily believe in a God- but I prayed.

I prayed that Y/N was okay and that she knew I was sorry for everything.

I prayed that whatever happened to me, my brothers knew I loved them. Knew how sorry I was that our lives were ruined because of me.

I prayed that they would be able to find the trail I left behind.

Old friends, same disease I can't get away from it Old friends, same as enemies

“There’s no way you pulled that pharmacy heist off by yourself,” Anger seeped through every word, every syllable.

“Who is she?”

I laughed, my body aching against the ground as I continued wrestling the chains, “You underestimating me?”

The man growled, pushing my face into the cement forcefully, causing me to laugh in resentment. Even through the blindfold, I could tell a snarle was embedded on his face.

“I stole your fucking car at fourteen. I can do anything I need to myself.”

“You sure about that?” I felt my body swing back up from the ground, two sets of hands sitting me upright in the chair.

“Who was wearing the Volto mask?”

I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself again I'm killing myself

“Fuck that I know,” I jeered, “What’s with the theatrics of all this?”

With my question ignored, I felt something cold and sharp press against my arm, “How do you know Y/N Y/L/N?”

I tried to not let my sarcastic smile fade at the mention of her name, “Who?”

“I’m not stupid boy,” The man yelled, a stinging warmth bolting up my arm, causing me to scream.

“Fuck!” I hollered, attempting to pull away, but I couldn’t move, nor see. Hands held my shoulders in place.

“I did some digging. You didn’t just break into her house, No,” he laughed, “No, you’ve been living there.”

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain

Why was he asking about the mask and Y/N?

My mind wandered back to Vincent, recalling our conversation days prior.

“Heads, you tell me about your little friend Y/N.”

My gaze narrowed and my fists clenched at the mention of her name. What did he want with Y/N?

“Tails, you tell me about your masked friend.”

Vincent said his boss wanted to know.

“So tell me,” I felt the blade dance across my skin, threatening, “Is she my missing mask?”

With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

+++++

RUFFILO

As we strolled down the street, Folio turned to me with a curious expression. "Do you have any theories about who Y/N might be?" I shook my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he mused, "because two masked men chased us and kidnapped both Y/N and Noah and now she's revealed herself as a badass hacker and thief? That doesn't sound like your average barista if you ask me."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know. The only thing she ever mentioned was that she was trying to escape her past and feared being judged…and that she knows some pretty dangerous people.”

“She took us in without a thought,” Jolly piped in, “She had to have had a similar lifestyle. No one would just take in a group of criminals.” He then stopped walking, reaching into his pocket.

Jolly stared at his screen confused, the device vibrating with a surprising name dancing on the screen, “Vincent?”

Putting the phone against his ear he watched us, a confused look glazing over his features. I stood closer to him, trying to listen in on the conversation. Jolly rolled his eyes, pushing me gently.

“Fuck you calling me for? I don’t have shit bro.”

“Yo, you know where Noah is? Did this asshole flake?”

“Why?” Jolly asked, “You were supposed to meet him?”

“Yea, he had more shit for me- didn’t show up at the ally. Thought that maybe I scared him off since the last time we talked.”

“Well, he didn’t show up because he’s fucking missing.”

“Missing? The hell you mean missing.”

“Missing as in we have no idea where the fuck he is, and we think he was kidnapped; so your deal’s gonna have to wait.”

“Wait- I think I know who may have taken him.”

Immediately I stepped back to share a look with Jolly and Nick. Did Vincent know the twins?

“Shit I gotta go. Meet me at the pier in 20.”

I heard the phone beep and Jolly stared at the screen in confusion, “Folio?”

Nick hummed, “What?”

“Did Noah ever use his first name when dealing with Vincent?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, shaking his head, “Pretty sure I told him to just go by Sebastian.”

Jolly shoved his phone back into his pocket, pushing past us and walking quickly down the street, “Seems to me Vincent may be more involved in this.”

+

We hurriedly made our way to the pier, trying to cover the long distance in just twenty minutes. Walking was not ideal, but it was our only option as the cemetery was too far for a quick drive. The wind picked up, sending cold droplets of water flying towards us and making me shiver. As we reached the pier, I noticed a man leaning against the wooden railing, gazing out at the water. He turned towards us with a small smile and stood up straight.

“Jolly? Folio?” He acknowledged them, and Jolly whistled in response.

“Strange seeing you unmasked.”

“Well, I’m not going to wear it where everyone can see us,” He threw his hood over his head, shielding himself from the wind.

“So what do you mean you think you know who took Noah?” I asked.

He looked at me, thick brows sitting heavily above his eyes, “Who are you?”

“Nicholas. Ruffilo.”

“Ah,” Vincent mumbled, “The one that convinced Jolly to stop selling to me in the first place all those years ago.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Jolly placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.

“It was a mutual agreement, Vince. You know why we stopped, we got a new boss.”

“Yeah, whatever,” He huffed, leaning against the railing once again, “Well speaking of bosses, I think mine took him.”

“Is your boss a set of twins that wear these stupid fox masks?” Nick asked.

Vincent laughed, raising a brow, “Uh, no. But that’s interesting.”

Jolly, Nick and I looked at each other. So who took him if it wasn’t the twins?

“Whois he?” I asked.

With a shrug, Vincent turned to look out at the water again, “I dunno. I’ve never met him before, and we only communicate through his little henchmen. We call him the Rule Maker.”

“The Rule Maker?” Jolly chuckled for a moment, but then his smile quickly faded. “Wait, are you talking about THE Rule Maker?”

“Who's that?” I asked, feeling out of the loop.

Folio ran his fingers through his hair. “Only the biggest drug lord in North America.”

“Well, why would he kidnap Noah? We haven't been involved in anything related to drugs in years, except for the last month,” I said.

Vincent shrugged. “I was interrogated by one of his henchmen the other day. He wanted information about the person who helped him with the heist since they were wearing a mask belonging to the missing member of Fidelio.”

I quickly glanced at Folio and Jolly, making eye contact with both of them.

“Fidelio- isn't that a drug syndicate in Canada?” asked Jolly.

Vincent confirmed, “Yeah, it is. That was the first time we saw that mask in months. Then my boss started asking about some woman named Y/N Y/L/N.”

My brothers and I all had the same reaction: wide eyes and physically turning to face each other.

“So you do know her,” Vincent concluded.

“I mean-” Nick scratched his neck.

“Well, my boss knows her. He has been looking for her for years,” Vincent sighed, “So, Sebastian knows Y/N, and has a connection to the Volto mask. Yada yada, the boss wants answers that I couldn’t get out of Noah the other day. So he probably took him.”

I ran a hand over my face, groaning audibly. This is bad.

Jolly stared at me concerned, “Y/N is the missing member of Fidelio. The timeline would add up.” Fuck.

“Interesting,” Vincent chimed in, “So it’s the same person. That girl is the mask.”

“Well, did your boss say how he knows her?” Nick questioned.

The dealer shook his head, “Nope. And I don’t know where Sebastian would be either- but I think that’s who took him.”

“Why are you helping us?” I said warily.

Vincent smiled, his grillz shining against the setting sun, “Well, he provided good business. I got paid well.”

“I don’t know how we are supposed to find him though,” Nick said, “We were following a trail of flowers for a bit.”

Wait… following…

“Oh my god,” I smacked my forehead in annoyance, “Our trackers!” I lifted my pant leg, showing it off to the boys.

I wasn’t sure how we didn’t realize it sooner, but Noah still had his tracker attached to his ankle. At least, I hoped.

“How are we supposed to track it? It was Y/N who had the system,” Jolly said.

“Noah’s number might still be on her laptop. It’s worth a shot.”

+++++

Y/N

Kade sat across the room and asked, "Where is your laptop?" He slumped back in his chair and gave me a cold glare.

"Why would I tell you?" I retorted.

He chuckled, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "Do you have a death wish?"

I snarled at him, "It's not my fault you didn't secure your system properly. Figure it out on your own."

"Well, I didn't expect you to betray me and erase everything." His smile was pathetic and devoid of any warmth.

“Y/N,” Kiean pleaded, and I rolled my head to look at him. He sat on the other bed, eyes begging, “Just cooperate. Like I said, if you help we will leave your life forever.”

“How am I supposed to know that’ll happen?” I mocked, “You chased me and my friends, almost killed us in a car crash with guns, and fucking kidnapped me?”

The room was silent for a moment before Kade spoke up.

“I just want my fucking business back.” He growled, “So like I said, help me, or he is dead.”

I swallowed harshly, knowing that Kade’s threats were never empty. He always followed through with them, and I know he most certainly would kill him.

I didn’t want to help them… but I didn’t want to risk Noah’s life.

“It’s at my place,” I sighed.

Kade stood up, clapping his hands together, which caused me to close my eyes and flinch, “Then let’s go.”

+

We arrived at my house in a rental car that the Twins had gotten for us. I fidgeted with the bandages on my wrists, wincing as I did so, grateful for Kiean's care to prevent infection. My stomach churned as we parked outside of my front door; part of me hoped that the boys would be there to rescue me from this mess, but another part feared for their safety if they were there.

“Are your boyfriend’s minions home?” Kade spat, turning off the engine.

"How am I supposed to know? I've been held captive," I retorted with a sneer. Kiean gave me a pointed look, and I rolled my eyes before the three of us made our way to the door. Kade had taken my key and unlocked the house, stepping inside silently. The twins listened for any signs of movement, and I scanned the area, noting that the boys' shoes were missing.

“I don’t think they’re home,” I said. The twins nodded to each other, following me up the stairs to my room. Juice mewed behind, following us.

Once we entered I went to my desk, pulling the laptop off the charger. I handed it to Kiean who opened it, prompting me to type in my password.

“So now what?” I asked just before the front door opened.

The twins glanced at each other, holding a finger to their lips and my breath quickened, listening to the voices of the boys. They were here.

“So where is her laptop?”

“Probably upstairs. C’mon.”

Was Noah here too?

The shuffle of various sets of footsteps ran up the stairs and as soon as Folio turned the corner he let out a surprised yelp when our eyes met briefly.

“Y/N!” He screamed, taking a step forward before Kade cocked his pistol, holding it straight ahead.

“What the fuck-” I heard Ruffilo and saw him peer behind the corner, his eyes widening once he saw me.

Kade grabbed my wrist tightly, causing me to wince in pain. "Move, or I'll shoot," he threatened as we passed by Folio and Ruffilo with their hands raised in surrender. He dragged me out of the room, past the boys, and into a hallway where I saw Jolly waiting. But then, my eyes locked with a stranger's gaze and I didn't see Noah anywhere nearby.

I pulled against Kade as he tried prying me down the stairs, gun still pointed toward the boys.

“Wait-” I begged, causing Kade to stop, “Where’s Noah?”

As I stared up at Ruffilo from the stairs his gaze made my heart sink.

“He was kidnapped,” Ruffilo muttered.

“C’mon,” Kade spoke through gritted teeth, giving zero fucks about Noah. We reached the bottom of the stairs and Kiean pushed me softly toward the door.

“What?” I yelled back, complete worry taking over me, “By who?”

"The Rule Maker," Jolly hollered back, his voice carrying through the hall. The twins stopped in their tracks, their faces mirroring a mix of surprise and uncertainty as they exchanged a glance with each other.

I can't be saved Reaching for the life we threw away Watching as it circles in the drain With everything I loved, that's gone to waste With everything I was but couldn't change

Chapter 12 - Coming Soon

(New story parts chapter 12+, no longer re-edited work)

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[demons-i-get]

We all know Dean raised Sam. This is something we agree on, right? We also all agree that Sam's first word was 'Dean' or some variation of it in an attempt to say 'Dean', yeah?

Please consider for me: Sam, a tiny, small child, a little baby, an adorable little bean. He calls Dean 'dede' the same way little kids still learning to talk call their parents 'mama' and 'dada'. As he gets a little older, 'dede' becomes 'De'.

In kindergarten when the other kids are talking about doing things with Mommy and Daddy, Sam talks about how De takes care of him because Dad is always really busy but it's okay because De is the best and plays all kinds of fun games with him. All the other kids are like, 'but what about your mommy?' and Sammy doesn't have a mommy, or even remember what having a mommy was like, and the other kids are just devastated by this because 'my mommy is the bestest' and 'mommies take care of you, so who takes care of you if you don't have a mommy?' and Sammy gets all belligerent in that five/six-year-old-way and insists that he doesn't need a mommy because he has a De and De takes the bestest care of him.

Even after they get older and Sam only calls his brother 'Dean', he'll still revert to calling him 'De' when he's really tired, hurt, sick, scared, or drugged up on painkillers lmao.

When he was in second grade, Sam fell off the monkey bars during recess, sprained his ankle, and scraped his knees up pretty bad. He wailed and cried and called for 'De' while the teachers and the school nurse tried to help him and they couldn't figure out who to call because John wasn't answering his phone when all of a sudden another, slightly older, child appeared out of fucking nowhere, swept a blubbering little Sammy into his arms, and calmed him right down. The teachers and nurses are confused as hell because one: where did this other child even come from, two: Sam wouldn't let anyone near him and would start screaming if someone tried to touch him but this kid shows up and just immediately scoops him up and gets him to stop wailing, and three: seriously where did this other child come from??? He looked too old to be another second grader or even a third or fourth grader who had wandered outside at all the commotion. Turned out, he was a sixth grader on his way to lunch when he heard the commotion and came running. Apparently, this was the 'De' that Sam kept yelling for.

EVEN AS ADULTS Sam still does this!!!!! When he's nervous, Sam will reach out and grab the back of Dean's shirt/jacket/whatever (like we see him do in 'What Is and What Should Never Be' even if that was a djinn-induced hallucination) and say real softly, "De," which prompts Dean to take over and do all the talking and make himself big and loud and impossible to ignore until they can get out of the situation. Once they're in the clear, Dean will always check in with a, "You okay, Sammy?" and lays a grounding hand on Sam's shoulder until he gets a reply.

However, (because I'm a sucker for angst) Sam calls him 'De' for the first time since Dean came to him for help finding John when Dean's dying after he got electrocuted fighting the rawhead (s1ep12 Faith); it breaks Dean's ailing heart because Sammy hasn't called him that in almost five years and now Dean has to leave his little brother behind and it's gonna absolutely devastate him. Most of the whole time Dean's sick, Sam calls him De, and even after Roy heals him, he's De for like, another week while Sam hovers over him, terrified something's going to happen and take his big brother away from him.

TL;DR: Sam used to call Dean 'dede' (like 'dada'), called him 'De' as he got a little older, and still calls him 'De' in times of emotional turmoil/distress throughout their adult lives.

I have more thoughts about Sam calling Dean 'De' that are more sad/angsty/etc. but I wanted to keep this post mostly fluffy and cute so I'll probably reblog this with more thoughts at some point!

[wayward-robin]

4x03 – Like Father, Like Daughter thoughts

Only ep 3 and I’m already a little bit bored with Debbie’s boy plot.

As a dog lover, I cannot condone Carl stealing dogs to claim rewards but it was a pretty good scheme. I love how Carl never puts in the effort to do stuff for himself. Anytime he does something, its usually for others.

Mickey’s going on about carrot tops and freckles was hilarious! Missing Ian, are we Mickey?

Frank’s daughter Sammi is certainly something. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop with her because right now she’s kinda nice? Nice isn’t a word I usually attribute to the Gallaghers… 

Mike’s family chaos at dinner is so tame in comparison to the Gallaghers.

I know he didn’t want to engage with his guidance counsellors etc. but I think Lip was done a disservice by his high school. They saw his intelligence and what it could do for their own records. But Lip’s come into the real world for college not being able to write essays properly. It’s so much more than just throwing the ideas onto paper. He has no laptop. He’s really at a disadvantage. 

Fiona’s getting real good at not giving a shit? Ha! Yeah right. Fiona feels way too much. She just likes to pretend nothing gets to her and buries her head in the sand. Just like when Jimmy-Steve wasn’t around in season 2 actually.

Case in point - when did she stop really hearing her siblings? She’s oblivious to Debbie’s older “boyfriend” and Lip’s basically crying out for some emotional support.

Fiona had sex with Robbie… Mike was right there! How he didn’t see it I have no idea!

Robbie reeks of danger. And the thing about addicts is they can spot another one a mile off. Fiona’s addiction is chaos. She needs some excitement and a hint of danger. We saw that with Jimmy-Steve in season 1. She doesn’t know what to do with the backdrop of calm and settled.

She’s self-sabotaging herself here. I think she’ll hook up with Robbie again and Mike will find out at some point.

[angelasscribbles]

A Little Healing

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret (Romance Club)

Pairings: Adi x MC

Word Count: 1,255

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: references sexual activity

A/N: This is the follow-up to Solace and completes my ideas about the emotions surrounding their little tryst. Consider it a two-shot. I have ideas for a poly ending with all these characters but I think that will be written in third person and have a different entry point. It will probably be a lot less canon as well, but we'll see.

My other stuff: Master List.

What had I done? Agreeing to help free the boy in the tower was madness. Yet something about him tugged at my very soul. Sleep was elusive as I tossed and turned, contemplating the possible repercussions. Then thoughts of Sammy intruded upon my consciousness, and I gave up on sleep. Without bothering to change into real clothes, I slipped out of my room and down the hall. I needed to see Adi.

I knew I shouldn’t be risking it. I had barely escaped expulsion that very morning. Somehow, I had managed to squeak by without a chaperone. Shepha knows how. I deserved to have one. After all, in the short time I’d been here, I’d managed to sleep with Mimi, Dino, and Lucifer. All forbidden fruit. All tantalizing and delicious.

The demonic spark inside me danced in joy at the thought of breaking the rules and getting away with it. As much as I tried to do the right thing, sometimes the wrong thing delighted me even more. It was like I had both inside me somehow. Was that even possible?

The demons called me a goody-two-shoes, and Dino called me the most demonic angel he’d ever met.

Dino.

The thought of him sent waves of warmth cascading through me. His taste still lingered on my lips from earlier. Out of all my dalliances, he was the only one who had accepted this thing between us without reservation. Oh, he fought it in the beginning, but now? Now he was ready to go all in. The offer was on the table.

“Before I decide to run my whole life into the ground, you have to decide if you really need it. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

I understood only too well, and I struggled mightily with myself to not ruin his life. Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind. Why should we be bound by these arbitrary rules? I wanted him. And there was an evil little part of me that delighted in the fact that I could have him if I wanted, that he would come willingly into my arms whenever I asked, personal cost to himself be damned.

Dino would destroy himself for me if I required it. And for that reason alone, I could not ask it of him. I wouldn’t.

Then there was Lucifer. The son of Satan was hotter than any being had a right to be. He was also maddening, frustrating, and infuriating. Sending off mixed signals like a malfunctioning traffic light, he ran so hot and cold I couldn’t keep track of if he liked me or hated me from one moment to the next.

He had certainly seemed to like me last night.

And that was the reason Mimi was mad at me. Angry didn’t begin to cover it. Mimi was furious but because she was jealous that I was with Lucifer, or because she was jealous that he was with me, I wasn’t sure. Mimi herself didn’t seem to know.

I was still trying to decide if having Mimi as a roommate was a gift from heaven or a torment sent from hell. Yes, I had told her that I felt more than friendship for her because I do. But we weren’t exclusive. Thanks to these asinine rules, we couldn’t be anything officially, what we did in the privacy of our room notwithstanding. I’ve always liked both boys and girls but never has any woman set my body on fire the way she does.

She feels it too. We were drawn to each other from the very first moment. There was not an ice cube’s chance in hell of her staying mad at me for long.

Dino had forgiven me for Lucifer. Mimi would too.

I made it to Adi’s door unseen. I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated. I didn’t want to wake him. I turned to go, but before I had a chance, he called out, “Come in.”

Technically, I had fucked Adi too, but what happened between us hadn’t been about love or courtship. It had been about grief, pure and simple. At least that’s what I told myself.

We hadn’t spoken of it. What had happened in that empty ballroom had stayed there.

Until now.

Adi was perched on the edge of his bed. He looked like hell. Dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, his hair unkempt, clothes rumpled as if he’d slept in them.

I hurried across the room and sat down next to him. “Oh, Adi, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face.”

The anguish in his voice was breaking me. “Aw, sweetie, Sammy wouldn’t want you to torture yourself this way.”

He stared into my eyes, trembling as he confessed, “I feel guilty. For what happened with you. It…do you think I betrayed him? His memory?”

“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “It wasn’t like that, and Sammy wasn’t like that. He would understand. He would want you to take comfort wherever and however you can.”

“But what if….what if that was just an excuse? The truth is, I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you, even though I was in love with him. What does that say about me?”

“It says you have excellent taste in both men and women.” I teased.

He made a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” I chastised him. “People have desires. We aren’t meant to be emotionless machines. You’re a demon, you know this.”

He dropped his eyes to his lap as he whispered, “I hate myself for not being able to save him. For not even knowing he was in danger. For arguing with him the last time I saw him. That was his last memory of me, Vic!”

“Hey!” I pulled him into my arms and let him rest his head on my shoulder as I ran my fingers comfortingly through his hair. “He knew exactly how much you loved him. I promise.”

We clung to each other for a long while, taking solace in each other’s arms.

When we finally pulled apart, I gently placed my fingers on his temples. “Look at me, Adi.” Then I showed him all of my memories of Sammy. All the good times, all the laughter, and all the love. Before I knew it, Adi was laughing despite himself. He relaxed, a little of the misery dropping away as he shared his own memories.

We traded stories about Sammy as the night deepened. There were tears and laughter as we reminisced.

Finally, we curled up on the bed together. Emotionally wrung out, we clung to one another.

The laughter had felt good. A little like healing.

I knew it wasn’t over.

Grief comes in waves. It sneaks up when you least expect it and takes you out just when you think you’ve beaten it. But in that moment, it gripped our hearts a little less. The darkness was a little brighter and the heaviness a little lighter.

I wrapped my body around him, the big spoon to his little spoon as we drifted off to sleep, the warmth of his body soaking into me, comforting and reassuring.

My grief surrounding my losses and my confusion over what to do about my three lovers kept me from being strictly happy, but as I slipped into slumber, I was, at least for the moment, content.

[whump-me]

Obscure: Chapter 9

Chapter 9 of Obscure, novel-length interrogation whump about a rebel leader who can erase memories with a thought, an interrogator who can see inside his subjects’ minds… and the connection they share that neither of them suspects.

Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the completed novel on Patreon

---

Elias

Every day, the hard metal chair bit into Elias’s legs a little more. Every day, the reflection of the harsh light off the table stabbed a little deeper into his brain. Every day, the world felt a little foggier, his thoughts a little muddier. A product of his lack of sleep. That cot in his room—or call it what it was, his cell—was no better than sleeping on the floor. When he did sleep, he dreamed of Sammy, or occasionally of Max. His dreams were not restful.

It was a small consolation that Kirill looked as if he hadn’t slept well either. His eyes had lost a little of their sharpness, his stance a little of its rigidity. Of course, he had put on that act before. Elias had vowed not to fall for it again. But this time, it looked like Kirill was trying to hide his exhaustion. And that told Elias it was likely real.

What was keeping Kirill awake? Elias hoped it was his question—the question the man hadn’t been able to answer. Who was he under his endless number of masks? Who was this person who had joined PERI willingly to work against his own kind?

Elias didn’t let himself think too long about why he wanted to know. He didn’t let himself wonder who else he was trying to understand.

“Sammy.” Kirill let the name hang in the air. He said nothing else.

As if the name alone would be enough to make the memories spill out of him. But even as he thought it, the memories came, half a dozen in quick succession—birthday party, a skinned knee, a mouthful of baby food spit clear across the room.

Elias blinked away the images and focused on Kirill’s eyes. “A child like you,” he countered. “But you don’t know who you were as a child, do you?” Tit for tat. If Kirill wanted to play press-the-emotional-button, it was only fair for Elias to play, too.

“Not like me,” Kirill said. “I joined by choice. It was an act when I said otherwise. One you fell for.”

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

“You won’t need to worry about it,” said Kirill. “Everything I say from now on will be the truth. We’ve recalled your son from his current operation. He’s here right now, waiting to find out the reason for his change in assignment. We can tell him his recall was an unfortunate mistake, and administrative error, and send him on his way.” He paused. “Or we can hurt him.”

The words were a knife. They tore open Elias’s memory center, and Elias bled.

He bled images of Sammy as an infant, and the woman curled in the corner of his bunker with burn scars up and down her arms.

He bled Sammy at two years old, and a man dragged away screaming through an abandoned industrial park as Elias watched helplessly, the man’s eyes warning him to stay hidden.

Sammy at four, and a corpse facedown in brackish water, her skin pockmarked with electrical burns, her eyes gouged from her head.

Sammy at six—

Elias took a shaky breath. Then another.

“I shook you up that badly yesterday, did I?” His voice trembled. So did his hands.

“Don’t give yourself so much credit. I set the recall in motion yesterday morning, before we spoke.” Kirill gave him a thin smile that wasn’t a smile. “I told you I wouldn’t let you play cat and mouse forever.”

The memories kept going. His shaky breathing exercises couldn’t hold them at bay. He tried anyway.

Inhale for four, exhale for four.

Sammy at eight.

Inhale for four, exhale for four.

A man staring into his eyes in the bunker, eyes haunted. I was with them for two years. Do you know the kinds of things they do to make a person cooperate?

Inhale. Exhale.

He clung to his breaths like a rope thrown to a drowning man. The rope slid from his hands like it was only more water. So he clung to something else instead. Those pale gray eyes. He reached for Kirill’s mind, clawing his way in, all subtlety gone.

The electric shock, when it came, was a relief. It burned the memories from his mind, along with his concentration.

For a few seconds.

“No more of that,” said Kirill. “If you try it again, I’ll make sure your son gets every shock I delivered to you.”

“You’ll hurt him anyway,” said Elias, even as he knew he would never try to obscure Kirill again.

“Only if you don’t cooperate.” Kirill’s voice cut like a knife through the images flashing through Elias’s mind. But it did nothing to stop the memories. “I’ll need the names of everyone who works with you, in order of seniority. The locations of your safehouses. The different branches of your network, their responsibilities, and the complete chain of command for each.”

Safehouses. His mind was already in the bunker, and it stayed there, all the details sharpening until they stood out sharper than real life.

He willed his memory to remain in the bunker, tried to concentrate on every detail—reading the titles of the books in the bookshelf, counting the squares of the quilt. But his treacherous mind, fueled by emotion and steered by Kirill’s suggestion, moved on.

It moved to the second floor of a small doctor’s office in a strip mall two states away. Elias had never been there personally, but he had seen pictures. Those pictures flashed through his mind now in a series of still images. Half a dozen cots; cabinets crammed full of scavenged medical equipment. Scarred patients with haunted eyes.

On the rare occasion they could rescue someone from one of PERI’s research facilities, that was where they sent them for treatment and rehabilitation. Their survival rate was almost sixty percent. Elias was told that was impressive.

His memory moved on again, to a circle of cabins at the end of a logging road, deep in a forest so thick the sunniest days were shadowed. A community where people could stay over the medium-term—one year, two, sometimes even five—when they didn’t have the resources to flee, or wouldn’t be safe even under an assumed name.

Elias had visited a handful of times. It reminded him a little of home, even though his home had been wide-open meadows and long, low ranch houses built from scratch. Every time, he had wished he could stay. But it would have put the people there in danger, and they were at enough to risk as it was. And he had his own life waiting for him at the farmhouse.

That thought brought his memory to the farmhouse. He clung to the familiar images with relief. Walking inside with Laina for the first time, carrying her across the threshold like she was a new bride, even though they had been married for almost five years by then. The first breakfast he had cooked in that kitchen, eggs and bacon, presenting it to Laina with a flourish and saying they were real farmers now. Laina had laughed at him, reminded him that he had bought those eggs and that bacon at the grocery store, and that they were growing apples, not keeping chickens or pigs.

Their first fight in the farmhouse, two weeks later, when she had broached the subject she had sworn not to bring up, dropping hints about how the house was awfully big for just the two of them. He embraced the memory. He would take anything, no matter how painful, as long as Kirill couldn’t do anything with it.

Then he breathed away the memory, and let it go.

He had won.

This round.

“Spoken answers would save us the trouble of tracking down those locations,” said Kirill. “The more you give us, the less your son will suffer.”

At the mention of Sammy, the memory-wound tore open. Elias struggled to breathe. “You’d hurt him so easily? I thought he was one of yours now.”

“He is. But your information is worth more. And we have a plan in place to handle the aftermath.”

The last word, spoken in the cold tones of Kirill’s current persona, curdled Elias his stomach and set loose another gout of fear-memories. “Aftermath? You mean the body?” He pictured Sammy, the age he had seen him last, but lying on the ground cold and dead. The image that had plagued his nightmares until he found out the truth.

But that was imagination, not memory. So Kirill got nothing. His pale eyes remained clear and focused.

Kirill shook his head. “PERI prefers not to waste valuable resources. We won’t kill him. Not unless you make it necessary.” He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe not even then. He’s more useful to us alive, even if we’re only using him as a weapon against you. Once he’s dead, there’s nothing more we can do to him.”

Elias stared into those cold eyes. There had to be a person in there somewhere. There had been once. That child Kirill claimed he didn’t care about remembering. The one who, in the grip of grief, had made a Faustian bargain.

“Is that how you see yourself?” Elias asked. “As a resource? There’s no difference between him and you, you know. Or do you think they see you differently because you joined voluntarily? They don’t.”

Elias didn’t have to know Kirill personally to know that much. He knew his enemy. He had studied them for the past fifteen years.

Kirill showed no reaction. “The addresses of your safehouses,” he said. “The names of your subordinates, and their areas of responsibility.” He nodded down at Elias’s wrist. “For your son, we’ll start with a shock bracelet like yours. Then we’ll move on to worse.”

“You don’t need to give specifics. I’ve seen what you can do.” Elias forced the words out like a talisman against memory. A distraction. It didn’t work. The memories squeezed out around the edges of his focus.

Lark Albright, who had only agreed to go into hiding on the condition that she could join his work. Annemarie and Nabor Eichmann, who had lost their child and wanted to make their loss mean something. Kevin Kasperski—

Elias kept talking. “Do you think they wouldn’t do the same to you if they thought it was worth their while?” Each word was a struggle. Each syllable was a pebble placed in a dam, an attempt to hold back the river of memory. The current washed them away almost as soon as he could place them.

“I’m too useful to them,” said Kirill. “And there’s no one left alive who cares about me.” There was no emotion in his words.

Elias struggled to focus on those cold eyes. Not to obscure Kirill—he wouldn’t do that again, not after Kirill’s threat. Just to give himself something to focus on besides the fear and Kirill’s questions.

His eyes were as pale as Max’s. Was Max working in a facility like this somewhere, staring into a prisoner’s eyes with a flat, empty gaze?

And Sammy. What had he been doing for PERI before they had recalled him? Were his eyes as cold as Kirill’s now?

“You’re not focused enough,” said Kirill. “Let me change that. We can snap the bones in your son’s hand, one by one. He doesn’t need them for his work. I could demonstrate on you, so you know what your son will be facing.”

Elias’s hands involuntarily twitched away from Kirill. Memory surged through him—a reddened, wrinkled infant hand, impossibly small in his, less than a day old. A bigger hand, but still small in his, clutching his index finger as they walked across the street together—Sammy had been too proud to hold hands the way he used to. A scraped palm, tears, tweezers picking out the bits of gravel from the wound.

“Your contacts,” Kirill said, like Elias had known he would.

Elias dug through his own memory ruthlessly, throwing out images like roadblocks. A man bleeding out in his arms. A woman facedown in the water. PERI had already killed too many of his people. Now the dead could shield the living.

“Your active contacts,” Kirill said implacably. “And you don’t have to wait for me to pluck the memories from your head. Give me a thorough accounting, out loud, and guarantee that your son will be sent back to his current assignment with no knowledge of your presence here.”

Would his name mean anything to Sammy? Did he remember him? A sharp pang of grief. His son disappearing onto the school bus, its accordion door swallowing him.

“Your active contacts,” Kirill repeated. His voice showed no hint of frustration.

And Elias’s memory obeyed. Despite his attempts to throw up roadblocks, despite the pebbles placed in the roaring river of memory, Kirill’s voice steered his thoughts expertly. He pictured Mikyla Cogburn, a bored mother of three who had occupied herself by hacking into government systems and discovered one of PERI’s research projects by accident. Fleming Hammerberg, a weedy and freckled man who Elias had tried to recruit for the better part of a year for his rare distance-telepathy skills. Hayat Jalil—

Elias breathed in and out. He stared at his hands, and willed himself not to think of broken bones.

But that was the wrong approach. Resisting pain only ever brought more pain.

There would be pain. There would be grief that would never fade, and wounds that would never heal. That was the way of the world.

He stared his grief in the face until it looked away.

The river slowed, then stilled.

“You’ll do what you’re going to do,” he said, his voice even. Almost as if he meant it. “I can’t stop you.”

He tried to tell himself it was the truth. Pain was inevitable. Grief was inevitable.

But Sammy’s suffering was not. Elias could save him, send him back to his life as a cold-eyed PERI resource. If he traded away everyone who had put their trust in him.

Maybe tomorrow he would do it. Maybe the day after. Maybe the anticipation of Sammy’s pain would be too much for him, and he would give in and hate himself for it later. Or maybe his moment of weakness wouldn’t come until he saw Sammy in front of him, and heard his son’s adult voice for the first time in the sound of an agonized scream.

But not today.

He took another breath. And another. The memories didn’t return.

There would be more rounds. He wouldn’t win them all. Kirill had already handed him a few painful losses—and others would feel that pain in his place.

But for the moment… for the moment, he had won.

Kirill’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Maybe hurting your son isn’t the right strategy after all.”

Elias restrained himself from flashing Kirill a smile of triumph. But he felt it in his heart. If his victory had shaken Kirill, maybe it was more significant than he had thought.

Then Kirill’s thin lips curved into a smile of his own. “An account from your mouth would be the most efficient method of gathering information,” he said, “but for now, it’s not necessary. I got more than enough from your memories alone in the last few minutes.”

The flame of victory in Elias’s heart turned to ash.

His victory had been no victory at all. Kirill hadn’t backed down because Elias had successfully held the memories at bay. He had backed down because he had gotten enough to satisfy him for now.

Kirill stood. “We’ll discuss the remaining unanswered questions another time,” he said, already turning toward the door. “Maybe you’ll change your mind about talking to me. If not, we have plenty of beds. Your son can stay here as long as we need him.”

---

Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @suspicious-whumping-egg

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[stardustbarbarians]

Been Here All Along

A Danielle Wagner / Samantha Kiszka fic

Summary: Dani wished Sammi could see that she belongs with her.

Tags: girl van fleet (thank you @ofthecaravel), fluff, pining, angst

Trigger warning: mentions of cheating

A/N: Y'all know what this is. Title taken You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.

Words: 5.6 k

+++

“Hanson, it was a joke!” Sammi cried out as she ran her hand through her hair. Dani watched from the floor as she paced back and forth, becoming more and more distressed as her conversation with her boyfriend escalated into an argument. 

This happened every fucking time. Each conversation between Sammi and her douchebag boyfriend always spiraled into an argument of some sort. And almost every time, Dani was there to witness the fallout. She’d even gotten good enough to predict just what would piss Hanson off; most of the time it was a joke Sammi made, sometimes she just said something in a “tone” he didn’t like. Dani, catching her best friend’s eye and seeing the frustrated emotion swelling in them, just sighed deeply and gave her a sympathetic smile. She glanced down at the Guitar World magazine she was flipping through - the issue Janie was featured on the cover - unable to bear seeing that deeply buried pain swirling in Sammi’s eyes. It made Dani’s chest hurt. 

“I’m done! Call me back when you decide to grow up and stop name-calling!” Sammi slammed her phone down onto her dresser, causing the Olivia Rodrigo record to skip a beat. She only ever listened to Sour with Dani. Hanson thought Olivia Rodrigo was “too popular” and didn’t want to hear Sam play it around him. Truth was, Miss Rodrigo’s songs were written about guys exactly like him and it made him uncomfortable. 

Dani watched Sammi tilt her head back and scream in frustration. Her back was turned to Danielle, her long chestnut hair concealing the moth tattoo she knew was on her best friend’s upper back. Dani had a matching one in the same spot, her hand reaching up and rubbing at it subconsciously. Sammi didn’t speak for a moment, too busy silently fuming over her dickhead boyfriend. 

“He’s so fucking childish!” Samantha squawked out at Dani, dramatically turning on her heel to face her bandmate. Her hair whipped around as well, collecting all on one shoulder. The brown, wavy locks were a stark contrast to her canary yellow, ribbed tank top. It was Dani’s favorite on her: the color complimented her well and it showed off her tattoos. It also prominently showed off Sammi’s nipple piercings when she wasn’t wearing a bra… like right now. Hanson hated them. 

That was another argument they got into that Dani witnessed. He claimed that Sammi was being too “provocative” and screamed about how she wanted the whole world to see her nipples. He was a fucking prude. Sammi liked the piercings and that’s all that mattered… They were also hot as hell so that was an added bonus. 

“What did Hannibal say this time?” Dani flipped the magazine closed and set it to the side, giving Sam her full attention. 

“I asked you not to call him that,” Sammi reminded, her entire body flopping onto the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut, leaning her back against the dresser. There wasn’t any real heat behind it, more a token protest than anything. She’d never admit it, but Dani knew Sammi thought the nickname was hilarious. There was even a smile threatening to break out on Sammi’s lips, one corner tugging up slightly as she ducked her head. 

“Well, you still haven’t been able to convince me that the pork chops he made once weren’t human meat,” Dani continued, hoping to get her bandmate out of the foul mood that dick put her in. 

“Just like how you haven’t been able to tell me how you know what human meat tastes like,” Samantha retorted, no longer fighting the smile spreading across her lip gloss-clad, beautiful, full lips. 

“You missed that day at band camp,” Danielle darkly implied, barely able to keep her act together. She fully broke when Sam snorted out a laugh, covering her mouth with a manicured hand. The two shared a good laugh, sighing contently as their giggling died down. Dani watched as Sammi’s face darkened, her thoughts no doubt turning to the spat she just got into with Hannibal. 

“He called me ‘insensitive’ and a ‘cold-hearted bitch’,” Sammi divulged, her head falling against the dresser with a small thud, her throat exposed. She brought a knee up before wrapping her arms around it, Dani taking a moment to admire her tattoo sleeves. They were so perfectly Sammi that it made her smile a little each time she saw them. But there was no smiling from Danielle. 

“All because you asked ‘how was your sports-ball match’?” Dani had to strain herself so hard to keep her rage at bay. On top of pretending to be a musician, Hanson played in a beer league for baseball. And, in case you were wondering, he was mediocre at that, as well. 

Sammi sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. Dani watched as her throat bobbed as Sammi swallowed. She didn’t have an answer to what Dani asked.

Dani had a choice. Either she has a serious conversation about how awful Hanson is, or she jokes about it with her. 

“Another point towards him being a cannibal. They don’t have a sense of humor, y’know.” 

Sammi wouldn’t hear Dani’s argument. They’d had it a million times. It always ended with them both getting so mad at each other that they didn't speak for hours. Danielle just wished she knew why Sammi defended him so much. What did she see in him that made her so blind to all of his red flags? He was about as average as they fucking come. 

Sammi scoffed out a laugh, her head resting against her knee. Dani was able to catch a glimpse of her smile, making one spread on her lips as well. The two burst into a fit of laughter again, Dani’s heart soaring at the sound of her best friend’s giggles. 

“God. Sometimes I wish Hanson were more like you,” the bassist admitted with a sigh, a sad smile in her eyes as she locked eyes with the drummer. 

Why waste your time when you could have exactly me

“Like, you just get me. I never have to worry about saying the wrong thing to you… and I feel like I can just be myself,” Sammi continued, her tone growing softer with each word. 

“Gee, Sammi. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’ve got a crush,” Dani joked, dramatically placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head towards the bassist. She prayed to anything out there that could hear her that her blinding smile was enough to distract from the way her heart was racing. 

Rolling her eyes, Sammi couldn’t tamp down the smile she was fighting. She kicked out her foot and tipped Dani over, the drummer making an over the top squawk as she fell to the floor. Her arms sprawled out on the hardwood, Dani’s tongue flopping out of her mouth like a cartoon dead person. Sammi caught sight of Dani’s playboy bunny tongue piercing, the faux diamonds catching the light. 

“Shut up, you.” 

“Can’t hear you, I’m dead.” 

Sammi hummed, Dani cracking an eye open to catch her best friend crossing her arms. She knew that look on Sammi’s face, that smirk growing on her face meaning nothing but trouble. Dani had no time to stop her bandmate from stretching out her arms and digging her fingers into Dani’s sides. 

“NO!” Dani screeched as soon as Sammi made contact, fighting to get away from her tickling. It was no use. Sammi had freakishly long arms and fingers that were very adept at playing bass and keys as well as tickling. 

After a few minutes of Danielle snorting and chortling at the hands of Sammi, the bassist finally relented. 

“Huh, I guess you weren’t dead after all.” 

“Fuck off.” There was no heat behind it at all. In fact, Dani was ashamed of how fond she sounded to her own ears. She even felt the love-sick smile on her face, but that didn't mean she could help it. 

She’d been through fighting her feelings for Sammi around seventh grade, having come to terms with her sexuality around that time. At first, it was a question of “do I like girls? Or is it just Sammi?” Turns out, it wasn’t just Sammi; though she had been the reason she was questioning in the first place. But when she caught an episode of Pretty Little Liars one night and had a… reaction to seeing Shay Mitchell making out with another girl, that’s when she knew. Well, several “am I gay?” tests later, she knew. 

That’s also when she realized she had a type. 

“Do you wanna get veggie burgers and take Rosie for a walk?” 

Dani could never say no to Sammi. No matter how much she hated veggie burgers. 

“Yeah, I’m starving.” 

+++

“Hey, Sammi Sweetheart. How’s my stunning girlfriend today?” Hanson wrapped a possessive arm around his girlfriend’s waist, locking eyes with Danielle as he placed a kiss on Samantha’s cheek. Dani felt a deep-seeded jealousy churn in her gut as Sammi giggled loudly and beamed at the action and his greeting. 

He always dangled Sammi in front of her. Like now. He pointed a shit eating grin directly at Dani as he pulled Sammi against his side. Dani quickly flipped him the bird before Sam had the chance to look over at her. She hated Hannibal, that greasy little rat. She’d witnessed the fallout of his treatment towards her too many times, having to hold Sammi through the early morning hours while she sobbed after a nasty argument with him. He knew Dani hated him… he also knew that Dani didn’t see Sammi as just her best friend. She wasn’t exactly sure when or how Hanson had figured that one out given he had about as many brain cells as an amoeba, but ever since then he’s made it his goal to flaunt his relationship just to spite Dani every chance he got. 

It made Dani see red every time. 

It also made her wonder just what Sammi was to that fucking creep. 

“Wonderful now that I'm with you,” Sammi answered, directing her smile up at Hanson. He gave it back to her, but the smile never reached his eyes. 

“Amazing. So, did you see my set last night? You made a post about it like I asked, right?” he asked with barely a breath between his response and the question. 

Dani felt a fiery rage barrel its way through her veins as she watched Sammi’s smile fall. It was such a beautiful thing to lose that Dani was already grieving the loss of her personal brand of sunshine. 

“Oh… well, yeah-”

“Hi, Hanson. So great to see you again,” Jos interrupted, sticking her hand out towards the amateur musician with a huge forced smile plastered on her face. It reminded Dani of the time Jos tried to run for Mayor of Frankenmuth as a joke and went around “campaigning”. 

The confusion on his face only lasted for a beat, but hell if it wasn’t satisfying to see him falter. He quickly schooled his face before pulling his arm out from around Sammi’s waist and shook Jos’s hand. “Nice to see you too.” 

The disgust on her face was easy to miss if you didn’t know Joselyn well. But forever fiercely protective of her youngest sister, Jos would go through hell to help Sammi. That included getting her out of whatever uncomfortable situation her shitty boyfriend put her in. Dani was forever grateful for Jos, for if she herself had stepped in, there would be violence. 

“Greetings, Hanny. Let’s get rolling, shall we?” Janie spared a half-hearted wave towards Hannibal before pushing the door of the recording studio open, her eyebrows raised over her dark sunglasses. She was never concerned with punctuality unless it involved being around Hanson; it always made Dani snort. He also famously hated any nickname given to him.

Hanson’s smile strained just a bit at being rushed but made no protests as he walked through the door. Sammi trailed behind him, sending the twins a thankful smile as she passed them. 

“What a fucking skeeze,” Jos muttered to Dani once the happy couple were out of earshot. 

“An absolute scumbag,” Janie added, shaking her head as they all watched him stop Sammi and take a picture of them together in front of the recording room they booked. Dani knew without a doubt that would end up all over his socials within a few days, flaunting that he was dating the Samantha Francessca Kiszka of Greta Van Fleet. Y’know, bass/keyboard player from the world renowned and critically acclaimed rock band that is shaking the music industry. Dani could not keep the sneer off her face as she watched him use her to boost his own career. 

And the worst part was, she was letting him exploit her name and reputation. Sammi was aware on some level that she was being used by Hanson, but this revelation didn’t happen until recently. At first, she was blissfully unaware. But as the months went on, she slowly started to notice how he made sure to take as many pictures with her as possible and get into fights with her fans online. 

“Sammi, you know what he’s doing, right?” Dani broke down around the seven month mark of their relationship. She would’ve said something earlier, but she was going through a breakup with Malcom at the time and wasn’t really paying attention. 

The bone deep sigh from Sammi filled the still summer night air. The two of them had escaped into the backyard of the cabin the four of them had rented. They were working on their newest album together, escaping to nature to fully get into the creative process. Jos and Janie were doing their own thing- reenacting Shakespeare of all things - and the younger two decided to slip away. The bassist looked up at the sky, her grown out hair slipping off her shoulders. The drummer was briefly reminded of the year prior when Sammi got her hair chopped. She showed up on Dani’s doorstep with a giddy yet nervous smile on her face, wanting to know her opinion. Dani loved it, of course. Sammi always looked good, no matter what. 

“Yeah…” The bassist’s voice cracked under the weight of the emotions flooding her body. Dani watched her eyes flutter; she was blinking back tears. Despite the warmth and humidity in the air, Dani’s blood turned to ice within her veins. 

The drummer swallowed thickly to clear her throat of the emotion in her own throat. “Then… Then why are you still with him?” 

Sammi quickly stole a glance at Dani just fast enough for the latter to catch the stars glittering in the unshed tears in her eyes, the bassist forcing her eyes down to the grass that they sat on. It was quiet enough that Dani could hear the way Sammi’s throat clicked as she swallowed. 

“Sometimes you’ve got to settle for second best when what you want the most is unattainable,” Samantha whispered, still refusing to look at Dani. She was playing with a long blade of grass, twirling the plant around her fingers. 

Danielle knew there was something more that Sammi was trying to say, but she couldn’t read between the lines no matter how desperately she scanned the page. 

That look on Sammi’s face that night under the stars was all Dani could think of as she watched her pull a strained smile for yet another picture Hannibal wanted with her. The broken hope hidden deep within those amber brown eyes… almost like it was heartbreak. When Hanson lowered his phone, Sammi glanced over at Dani, her smile dropping. Not just her smile, but her whole guard dropped as she gazed into her bestfriend’s eyes. That mask she always wore around her boyfriend slipped. It revealed a desperate look, a soul-deep yearning from Sammi projected out at Dani. 

She’s longing for something better 

Why Sammi thought Dani was the one who would be able to save her was beyond Dani. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be the one to do it. 

+++

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

Dani was rudely ripped out of her dream about her band playing a huge show in Tokyo that was televised around the world by loud incessant knocking. Praying that she just was hearing things, she flipped over and cozied back down into her sheets. 

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

So, she wasn’t hearing things. 

With a frustrated growl, Dani threw off the covers. She groggily checked her phone for the time, groaning when the numbers read 3:41 AM. That’s when she noticed all the notifications from Sammi. 20+ texts, 7 calls, and 3 voicemails. 

KNOCK! KNOCK! 

Dani looked over at the door to her apartment, her phone buzzing in her hand. She didn’t have to look to know it was Sammi texting her again. If she were more awake, all that in combination would make her very concerned. But as it was, she was more focused on making sure she didn’t stumble over her laundry on her floor in the dark. 

Rubbing her face with her free hand briefly, she then reached for the door and wrenched it open. The wind from the door opening blew back her loose curls that fell from her haphazard at a bun. Dani had to blink a few times before registering that it was Sammi standing on the other side of it. It took her even longer to notice the tears streaming down her face. 

Dani couldn’t process anything but panic before her best friend threw her arms around her, Dani’s heart sinking to the floorboards at the sight. Sammi sobbed into Dani’s shoulder loudly, hiccupping for air and clutching onto the drummer. Dani immediately wrapped her arms around Sam, closing the door with her foot. For a moment, the two stood in the hallway; Sammi crying and Dani attempting to soothe her by stroking her hair.

Danielle didn’t ask any questions. She knew Sammi would tell her when she was ready to. For now, Dani understood that she needed comfort. So, she nestled Sammi in close and rested her head against Sam’s, standing there for god knows however long. 

Finally, Sammi pulled away, her glassy red eyes still brimming with tears. She wiped her face with her shirt, pulling the hem up to reveal her belly button piercing and hip tattoo. She held the fabric there, her breath shaky as she attempted to pull herself together. Dani rubbed her shoulder tenderly, her brow knit as she took in the sight of her distraught best friend. Now that she was more cognizant, Dani was able to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. 

Sammi finally dropped her shirt from her face, sniffling loudly. Without looking at Dani, she kicked off her shoes. Though when she did lock eyes with the drummer, Dani’s heart shattered into thousands of pieces. The unadulterated hurt that swam in them… 

“Oh, Sammi. What’s wrong, honey?” 

Despite the dim light of the hallway, Dani could still see the fresh set of tears that were triggered by the question fall down her cheeks. Her face contorted to a mask of sorrow before she lurched forward into her band mate’s arms once more. Dani felt horrible for asking. 

“Oh, angel, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to make you more upset-”

Sammi just shook her head, her hands clutching at Dani’s loose-fitting crop top as she sobbed into it. It’s not your fault

“H-Here. How about we sit down. Is that ok?” Dani’s tone was so soft, just merely above a whisper. She’d felt so lost, always feeling useless when it came to comforting people. She worried about making it worse for Sammi, somehow upsetting her more. 

Sam pulled away slowly, nodding her head as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. The two settled onto Dani’s sofa, the owner flipping the lights on and sliding the dimmer all the way down after the back of her eyes throbbed in pain at the brightness. Dani made sure to sit close to Sammi, at least within an arm’s length in case she needed physical comfort once again. Sammi was curled up in a ball on the cushions, her knees pulled up to her chest with her tattooed arms wrapped around her legs. 

After heaving a big sigh, Sammi finally revealed why she was so upset. “I caught Hanson sleeping with another woman.”

I fucking knew it 

That was the first thought that ran through Dani’s mind at the news. She had been suspecting this was something he was doing for a while; at the very least, she knew he was capable of it. Dani had never been so upset that she was right in her life. He was a scumbag loser and Dani was already plotting how to get away with cutting his dick off and feeding it to him. Janie and Jos would cover for her, give her an alibi. There was no way in hell she’d be able to get to him with his guard down. He must’ve known Dani would be the first person Sammi would go to about this, so she’d have to just storm his house. He was a little bitch, she’d have no problem overpowering him-

“Dani?” 

Danielle was ripped from her thoughts of assault by Sammi’s voice. It was so soft, a slight crack to it when she said the “a” in Dani’s name. A pang lanced itself through the drummer like an arrow was shot through her chest. She was so caught up in her own rage she failed to be there for her best friend and it made her feel awful. 

Instead of saying anything, she simply pulled Sammi into a hug, resting her head against her chest. Sammi instantly coiled her arms tightly around Dani, pressing her face into the crook of her band mate’s neck. All Dani could do was gently rub Sam’s back, her other hand cupping the back of the bassist’s head. 

The two sat there for… well, god knows how long. All Dani knew was that - despite the way her eyes felt like they were sinking into her skull from the weight of her fatigue - she was willing to stay there until the end of time. Although, she was wishing she was wearing something more than a loose fitting crop top and her underwear. It wasn’t exactly the best attire for such an emotional moment like this. 

“I thought he loved me…” Sammi lamented between sobs, her words slightly muffled. 

Dani’s arms tightened around the bassist on their own accord, her heart lurching forward in her chest as if it was attempting to become physically closer to its love. Dani’s throat became dry; she knew he didn’t actually love Sammi. He just loved her fame. But she couldn’t say that to Sam. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Dani whispered, meaning every word. She truly was sorry for how horribly her boyfriend treated her and how he was using her. She wished that she could just take Sammi out of this horrible situation; to shoulder all her sorrow and heartbreak she was currently going through so that Sammi was able to live on without knowing pain. She was willing to take on whatever burden life threw at Sam if it meant she would remain unscarred. Hell, she’d lasso the moon down for Sammi if only she asked for it. 

But Dani couldn’t say that. How could she? How could she put into words that a mere smile from Sammi was enough to make Dani’s entire world shift beneath her feet; every time she so much as caught a glimpse of Sammi, it took the breath right out of her lungs? That Dani’s entire world revolved around her? 

Instead, she simply cradled the heartbroken woman in her arms. She placed a kiss on the top of that beautiful head of silky, chestnut hair, closing her eyes as she did so. And she started plotting. 

+++

“NEW YORK!!” Jos screamed into the mic, her voice amplified in the huge stadium. The crowd cheered as she shouted the name of the city and state they were currently playing in. It was a sold out show. That meant they were playing in front of a crowd of over 20,000. 

Oh. And that wasn’t even mentioning the camera crew that was filming their every move for a documentary they were releasing for this tour. Dani was used to feeling watched, but that made her feel like a bug under a microscope. That was until the band walked on stage to the deafening roar of their adoring audience four times larger than the population of their hometown. 

Dani, covered in body glitter, waved at them all. Her stage attire was so different to what she normally wore. Currently, she was wearing what mimicked a bikini - black bottoms with a bedazzled playboy bunny on the front under her belly button that sloped upwards to connect to a silver bra piece. She wore black latex gloves from her mid palms to mid bicep. Her legs were clad in bedazzled fishnets. She blew kisses at the cameras… maybe at Sammi as well. But how could you not? She was dressed in only what Dani would classify as a “revenge outfit”. She wore navy satin flare pants with a white zipper down the center which she left about half undone to expose her playboy belly button piercing. Her top was a corset made out of that same satin blue, her boobs completely out. The only thing that slightly kept her modesty were the black nipple pasties in the shape of a heart on each one. She wore matching latex gloves as Dani, both of them having a moment before the show started wherein they shared their excitement over matching. And then Dani took on Sam’s full look and all the moisture in her mouth traveled down south. 

“You all have been an impeccable crowd. Truly, we couldn’t have asked for a better one tonight. This has been a dream for all of us to play Madison Square Gardens for years and we are all so blessed to live that dream with all of you,” Joselyn rambled in order to let the rest of the band catch their breath and walk off stage before the encore. 

Dani ran off to chug some water. The fire that belched from their stage went off right behind her, causing her to sweat profusely. But as she looked back on the stage to catch Jos descending the stairs, Sammi stayed on stage. She hadn’t taken off her bass, either, the strap still pressing into her shoulder. Instead of walking toward the stairs, Sammi instead went for Jos’s mic stand. Dani instantly set her drink down and made for the stairs, stopping short when Sammi glanced over at her with that smirk that meant nothing but trouble. 

“How’s everybody doing tonight, huh?” the bassist asked, pulling the mic from its stand and walking up and down the stage. The crowd responded in a chorus of cheers, causing Sammi’s smile to grow. 

“That’s what I like to hear! Now, I know we like to play this little game where we pretend to leave and then come back and play a few more songs-” 

That was the plan we made for the documentary, Samantha. Why are you fucking it up??

“-but, considering I don’t really feel like going backstage currently, I thought I’d play a little solo for y’all instead. How’s that sound?” She pulled the mic away from her mouth and pointed at the crowd. It wasn’t needed. The roaring of the crowd was loud enough to be heard from a different state. Sammi winced at the volume, but her smile didn’t dim in the slightest. 

“Well, I better stop yapping and get to that, huh?” The mic picked up Sam’s giggle, the warm sound barely audible over the excited screams from the audience. She quickly put Jos’s mic back on its stand and glanced back at Dani one more time before strumming a chord on her bass. 

“Don’t feel like going backstage”... But, why? 

Danielle whipped her head around at the sound of something dropping. As she did, she noticed Hanson standing behind her. 

Ah. That’s why. 

Dani quickly whipped her head back around when she heard Sammi begin her solo, feeling the bass rumble through her body with each note. It was the first time she was really able to experience Sammi’s instrument like this. Normally when it was cranked up this loud, she was behind her kit. Sammi was glowing. Capturing the attention of everybody there and holding it without any wavering. It was clear how much she was able to hone her craft, her high skill level on full display. 

Sammi was lost in her own world. The second coming of the Lord could’ve happened and Samantha would’ve kept playing. People oftentimes mistook Sammi and Janie as twins. Dani never really got it. But now, witnessing Sammi get so lost in her music and making magic from her strings, Dani finally saw it. 

She suddenly became overwhelmed with a feeling of desire; both carnal and romantic. She became so swept up in her longing that she hardly realized she was climbing the steps to go on stage. Dani barely registered the increase in applause as she bathed in the stage lights, the crowd able to see her glittering under the glowing lights. Sammi didn’t notice her at all. She was so caught up in her performance. But she was so breathtaking. Her long hair had stuck to her face in places where her sweat accumulated, her face flush from the heat and exhaustion of performing, and her mouth hung open as she panted for breath. Dani stared for a moment, aware of the awe on her face as she caught a glimpse of herself on the big screen. 

The big screen… 

Her mind jumped to a few nights ago when Sammi had come into her apartment sobbing over a shattered heart. She recalled her plans to make Hanson pay for what he did to her darling Sweetheart Sammi. Now was the perfect opportunity. 

Stepping up behind the bassist, Dani slid her hands around Sammi’s exposed chest. She didn’t halt them until they rested on the heart-shaped pasties, fanning her fingers out slightly as she pressed Sammi’s backside to her front. Dani knew every camera and set of eyes were on them now if they weren’t before. 

For the first time that night, Sammi played a sour note. It rang out in the arena as her fingers flew off the bass string to Dani’s hands. However, she made no attempts to remove them. Rather, Sammi pressed them harder into her flesh. Dani glanced over at the stadium screen, noting how red Sam’s face had become. But, there was no missing the satisfied smile across her candy apple red lips. 

Knowing it was now or never, Dani powered through her nerves as she lowered her hands to Sammi’s hips. They were shaking furiously as she spun her bandmate around to be face to face, her heart thudding so hard she thought it was going to burst. Swallowing thickly, she closed her eyes and leaned in. 

Sammi lips tasted like apples, the liquid lipstick she used aptly named “Red Delicious”. Beyond that, they were soft - save for one spot she liked to chew when she got nervous. But that made it better; that made it authentic. If it weren't for that, Dani might’ve thought she was dreaming. She really came close to believing she was dreaming when Sammi lifted her hand up to caress Dani’s cheek and feel her smile into the kiss. That’s when the drummer’s ears started to ring, barely drowning out the thunderous roar of the audience. However, it was just loud enough to cause Dani to crack an eye open to see the stadium cameras panning over to where Sammi’s boyfriend was stationed backstage. He wore a look of pure shock and disgust on his face, an unfair volition swirling in his eyes. 

Closing her eyes once again, Dani slid one hand to the small of Sam’s back to pull her in closer. With the other, she flipped the bird towards where she knew Hanson was standing. He stormed off, she would later find out, to lose his 15 minutes of fame from riding the coattails of Sammi’s career. The only recognition he would ever gain was by his reaction being edited into the documentary of their concert. 

“Ahem.” Sammi and Dani finally pulled apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat filtering through the arena speakers. They still held one another close as they both glanced over to where the twins were standing; Janie with a dumbfounded look on her face and Joselyn with her hands on her lips, a proud smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. 

“Well, folks. You just witnessed what we’ve been waiting to see for over ten years. History in the making, you could call it,” Jos spoke, addressing the crowd. Dani could feel her face heat up, her skin no doubt a glowing shade of red. However, that didn’t dim her blinding smile in the slightest. 

“That was one hell of an encore.” Jos swung back around to look at the rhythm section, mouthing “proud of you” at both of them and blowing a kiss. 

And she was right. Not only did their documentary make record sales, but that moment made history; being written about in headlines for decades to come. 

+++

I did it for the girls and the gays and the theys

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[that-darn-clown]

y'know what. you get lore on Why William Is Not Normal About That Country Boy (Henry).

on a very basic level, it makes sense: Henry was both William's first real glance at actual Normalcy, as well as the first person in his life (outside of two of his siblings and a handful of teachers) to really show him kindness.

and then, with the base level, when then get to. the more complicated bits.

Henry is also how William learned he was Bi. by sleeping together in college. William Was Unable To Be Normal About That.

ever since Going Out On His Own (going to college), Henry's kinda. always been there. they've always been side by side, you get the idea.

eventually, Henry becomes his...idk how to word it, but basically William's center of how he views things. like, a good chunk of things in William's life are viewed through the lens of either Henry (whether William is fully aware of the fact they reached this point or not) or his family. His View Of Neither Are Healthy.

to go along with the above point (and maybe explain how it reached that point)...uh (pulls out the "jealousy to near worship" quote from the novels)

yeah...William's view of Henry shifted to Very Complicated levels by around the...maybe 1977-1980 mark?

now...how things got Bad:

so...Elizabeth. the result of those two sleeping together one night. both of 'em love her.

people in town start to realize that Liz is very much not adopted and is Biologically related to William. the question is: who's her mom? it's clearly not Claire.

Tammy Schmidt saves both his and Henry's asses. Henry feels worse about the fact that Tammy risked her own reputation for theirs. William could not give less of a fuck. hey, he and Henry aren't outed, right? he just discreetly raises her pay, and just gives her a small thanks, meanwhile Henry's trying to keep the rest of the employees from being assholes and calling her Really Horrible Shit (you can probably guess the specifics), all while being Extremely Fucking Concerned that she did that of her own accord.

Claire starts getting sick of his shit (both his recklessness with reputations and his emotional abuse, manipulation, and general possessiveness over their children). she divorces him and Could Not have made it clearer that their divorce wasn't caused by his and Henry's "affair." this was all on him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

but do you wanna know how Will viewed it? you wanna know how this Very Normal British Man saw this whole thing?

it's Henry's fault.

it just spirals as the month between Claire divorcing him and Charlie and Sammy's birthday passes. his drinking doesn't help. Henry's divorced, sure, but not due to any bad circumstances; they just discovered they didn't love each other in the romantic sense like they thought they did. and he still had both of the twins. William's not gonna have custody over any of his children by the time this divorce is over. It's Not Fair.

on the night he killed Charlie, he was drunk. going over to Freddy's to confront Henry. whether that meant yelling at him or getting into a fistfight, he wasn't sure, but something was gonna happen. one way or another, Henry was going to understand what he was going through.

and then he gets there, and...Charlie's outside, banging on the doors, trying to get someone to open them.

and, before he even steps out of the car, he gets his idea.

he gets out of his car, his bottle of some kind of alcohol in his right hand. walks up to Charlie, asks what she's doing outside. Charlie just runs up to him and hugs him, tells him why he's out there-

and then it happens. he killed Charlie.

this is already super long, but. long story short: Charlie's murder was the Point of No Return for their relationship. nothing was gonna be the same after that.

other "fun" bits of their relationship that i think about Often:

i think a good part of why Henry hates William so bad is the fact that He Trusted Him. he trusted him when he was grieving his daughter. he trusted William when he said that he'd perform maintenance on the animatronics post-MCI. after all, Henry's having a rough day, it's the least he can do, isn't it? he wanted, so deeply, to believe that he Wouldn't. and then he discovers that Will abused that trust. of course he'd be angry. livid, even.

William, for several years, tried to pull the "This Is Your Fault, But I Don't Hate You For It. I Still Love You :)" thing that he pulled with Mike after Cassidy died. mostly as a way of trying to pull Henry back to him. it uh...failed on that front. but he did succeed in getting Henry to blame himself! (even if this was Ultimately gonna fuck William over later; Henry believes that he should be the one to "fix things" because he thinks it's his fault. so.) so uh...Tasked Failed (Kinda) Successfully??

there have been at least...half a dozen times (between 1987 and 1994) where he kinda (checks notes) Broke Into Henry And Sammy's House To Clean The Place Up (depression bad on both Henry and Sammy's end). neither of them liked this, least of all Sammy (this is why he gets a gun around this time; he's not running the risk of getting killed). how the fuck he managed to get in, however, is something they don't know either.

however....it's also due to this that Henry is under the assumption, and kinda knows, that William won't kill him, despite his Knowledge (of Will's crimes). at some point, before William dies, they do have a confrontation that basically goes (on Henry's end) "Strike me down, Zeus! You don't have the balls!"

Henry, despite being nearly a foot shorter than Will, could honestly beat him in a physical fight and/or kill him if he wanted to. the only reason he doesn't is because he thinks, due to his size, that William could take him down easily (he could not).

uh...might have mentioned this before, but in the Pizza Sim fire, after killing Mike, William immediately made a beeline for Henry and, after one final confrontation with each other, ripped the guy's heart out. while Henry was still alive, mind you.

yeah...these two. Very Normal and Not At All Toxic Yaoi. We Love To See It <3

they make me so inconsolably insane oh my god. henry should be allowed to kill william with swords and knives and bats and clubs and the doohickey that killed shinzo abe

[queenmayor23]

Grand Piano III {Dean Winchester X Male Reader}

this one's a little angsty

Moments later, Dean wakes up in his back seat. He looks out the window to see dust being kicked up by the spinning wheels and rows upon rows of corn. TJ can see the confusion on Dean's face through the rearview mirror.

TJ: Shut up. We're almost there.

TJ pulls into a gravel driveway leading to a brick shed and a matching house next to it. The corn almost acted like a magical portal to the hidden property. TJ parks and shuts down the engine. He gets out, walking to the door of the house.

TJ: Hurry up if you want me to help.

Dean gets out of the car and follows the rock walkway to the porch, where TJ holds the door for him.

TJ: All the way down and hang a right.

Dean: After getting punched in the face, I don't trust you walking behind me.

TJ: That's hilarious. Either you walk in that kitchen, or I send my dogs after you, and you'll never see John or Sammy again.

Dean took the safer route and began walking. Staring at the back of his ex-boyfriend's head was the only thing that kept TJ from killing Dean right there and giving him time to process the mixed emotions.

TJ: Sit.

Dean sits at the kitchen table while TJ digs in the freezer. He pulls out some frozen peas and an ice pack, tosses the peas on the table next to Dean, and closes the freezer. TJ fixes himself a glass of whiskey and downs it like water. It was a taste he was just getting used to, even though his trash can would say differently. He fixes another glass and a separate one for Dean, walking it over to him.

TJ: Dean...

TJ struggles to find the words he wants to say. Was it "I hate you and want you dead," or "Why come back now just to ruin the sliver of happiness I just found" or maybe "I loved you, and I thought you loved me, but I guess I loved for both of us"? But the real question looming in TJ's mind was, "Why don't you love me?". But TJ didn't get to ask any of those questions before Dean spoke up, holding the peas to his cheek.

Dean: "Spirits of Vengeance", huh?

TJ: I bought the lounge a month after the mission with you and John. I was so mad.

Dean: He's your father too.

TJ: Was he? I've been alive twenty-seven years and have seen him a grand total of five times. I was ten when he introduced me to hunting. He had me chasing demons, poltergeists, and other unnatural creatures to prove myself to him.

Dean: It was your choice to start hunting.

TJ: He made me think he would love me if I eliminated all the monsters. So after graduation, I packed up and rode around the country on a hunting tour, and my mother hated me for it. She warned me of what kind of person John was, but I had to realize that he was the real monster on my own.

Dean: Dad was a hero!

TJ: He was my hero too, but I grew up Dean.

TJ walks back to his kitchen counter, smashing the ice pack on his knuckles.

Dean: I need you to help me find him. I don't want to drag Sam back unless I have to. At least that's what Dad would've wanted. 

TJ: Did he leave any clues as to what he was hunting or where? This wouldn't be the first time John went on a bender and forgot to tell his puppy dog.

Dean: What are you talking about?

TJ: Amherst. Clifton. Laredo. Mesa. He's always missing, then a week later, after you search the continental US, he pops up and is fine.

Dean: How do you-

TJ: Sam knows how to say thank you.

Dean: Wait, Sam? Does he know?

TJ: No. All he knows is that I'm the idiot who doesn't know how to say no to his brother.

Dean sighs in a mixture of both relief and frustration.

Dean: Dad has never been gone for this long. He's in real trouble if he's not dead by now. I can't do this alone.

TJ: Yes, you can. You don't need John to limit what you can do. He's just an anchor that slowly drowns you until you feel like there's no more hope, and by then, you're dead or mentally unstable.

Dean: Yeah. Well, I don't want to do this alone.

TJ: You still haven't told me what he was hunting?

Dean: Oh, right. Let's see. Where the hell did I put that thing?

TJ reached into his back pocket and slid out the tape recorder.

TJ: Looking for this.

Dean sees the tape recorder and nods his head.

TJ: Found it when I searched your car. I listened to it, and he sounds like he could be Winchester wasted or actually in trouble.

Dean: Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About two months ago, they found a guy's car, but he'd vanished. Completely MIA.

TJ: Kidnapping?

Dean: Yeah, well, there was another one in April, then December of '04, '03, '98, '92... ten of them over the past twenty years- All men, same five-mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I got that voicemail a few days ago.

TJ: Wait, why weren't you with him?

Dean: I was working my own gig in New Orleans.

TJ: Aww, he let you go on a trip by yourself?

TJ mocks Dean and takes the ice pack off his fist, feeling the melted ice.

Dean: I'm twenty-six, dude. Can you stop that?

TJ: I know you're twenty-six. We're nine months apart to the day.

Dean's face scrunches up.

Dean: How did I not know that?

TJ: You never asked.

Dean has a dumbfounded look on his face.

TJ: The message had an EVP saying it "can never go home" I ran into something like that about six months ago. It came after Richie, but there wasn't a body because she was cremated for cost-saving measures. So we sent her home.

Dean: How?

TJ chuckles, looking around the room.

TJ: This house wasn't always brick, and I'm not stupid enough to build it out of straw. Jackson drove his truck right through the middle of what was a bedroom and dining room. House caved in, Richie bought Jackson a new truck, and I started laying bricks that same weekend. The baseboards, door frames, and ledges are hollowed out and filled with salt, and everything wood is primed with mountain ash.

Dean nods his head, taking in the information about the house. Then, Dean takes a breath and asks the question.

Dean: So, are you and Jackson a thing, or what's your situation?

TJ smiles, looking up.

TJ: Jackson and I are in a business relationship. He helps me out at the lounge and around here while I'm out hunting.

Dean: What does he get out of your "business relationship"?

TJ: A slightly more than minimum wage paycheck every other week and a hunting buddy.

Dean's eyes widen, and he takes the now-thawed peas from his cheek.

TJ: What? I wanted to give him more, but he wanted the money to go into the lounge. I told him I had to give him enough to get groceries, pay his bills, and get gas. He only has truck insurance because I listed his truck as a company vehicle. There was this time before when we were a thing. He proposed, and I said no. But we're still as close as we were then, just as friends.

Dean: Can I ask why you said no?

TJ: I'll give you one guess.

Dean contemplates open-mouthed. When it shuts, it shows TJ that Dean realizes the answer. 

TJ: Jack wasn't heartbroken for himself but for me. The whole town kept telling me I was insane for holding on so tight to you, but Jackson knew I needed a friend to help me, and he became that friend. He got me to stop answering your calls because he knew I would halt my world just to help. Just to hear from you when you and John get into another situation. Come on, Dean, I knew John didn't think you were calling me. You never called me by name when you called, you said my trigger word, and I turned into a mindless drone for you.

Dean: I don't have a trigger word for you. What do you mean, a trigger word?

TJ: Let's keep talking and see if it comes up. It's been almost two years since I stopped answering your calls, and now you want to check on me?

Dean: I thought what got Dad either got you too, or you took him.

TJ: So you thought I took John for what? To have tea with him, sit down and gossip about my ex-boyfriends. Oh wait, my first boyfriend didn't love me and milked me emotionally dry, then I found out he's my half-brother. After that, my second boyfriend and I broke up because I was still hooked on my first boyfriend. Yep, that casual conversation with a man I've spoken to five times in twenty-seven years.

Dean: No. I didn't mean it like that, alright. I was running out of options, and you were the first person that came to mind.

TJ: Do you hear yourself? You only think of me when you have no other choice. Is that how you truly see me? A last resort? Nobody else wanted to go on a wild goose chase with you, so you're stuck asking me for help.

Dean: Baby, I'm trying to keep you safe. To do that, I need you with me. I'll deal with Dad later, but I need you.

Chuckling came from TJ's mouth.

TJ: There it is.

Dean: What?

TJ: The word. Baby. But it's not going to work this time. Dean, you are welcome to stay for the night, but you need to leave tomorrow. I'm done.

Dean sat silently at the table, not knowing TJ's next move but also baffled at two simple words he thought he would never hear from TJ, "I'm done". TJ turned away from Dean and gathered, from his refrigerator, fresh produce and some rabbit meat to cook dinner. He cooked in silence, Dean not saying anything. TJ handed Dean a beer with his meal and filled his own glass once more. They ate in silence. After dinner, TJ washed the few dishes and escorted Dean to a guest bedroom.

TJ: Sit tight while I get you some clothes.

TJ leaves and returns with clothes and towels for Dean to shower with.

TJ: There is soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste, and hair products galore in the bathroom across the hall. Go crazy.

Dean: Thank you. And I honestly mean that.

TJ: It's just what a friend would do. If you need me, I'm upstairs, the third door on the right. And I have my own bathroom, so I'm not going to sneak up on you and stab you in the back. 

Dean chuckles. TJ goes upstairs to his room and gets ready for a shower himself.

[abbatoirablaze]

At Death's Door, Chapter 6

Word Count:  1.5k

Warnings: manipulation, slight gaslighting, little bit of angst, mentions of suicide.

Dean’s POV

“Get your head in the game Sammy,” I said, heading over to the library.  He looked at me sideways, “ever since we left the hotel, you’ve been acting strange.  You were hardly paying attention when we were talking to the girlfriend.  You need to be in on this with me, not back at school.”

“I’m fine,” he sighed, not all there.  My brow cocked but Sammy tried to shake me off, “What?  I’m here Dean.  I’m fine!”  

“Did something happen between you and Dahlia when I left the hotel earlier?”

He looked at me shiftily before picking up the pace, “I’m fine, Dean.  Drop it!”

“Sammy-“ I said, catching his arm.  He stopped on a dime and ripped his arm from me.  I held my hands up defensively, “alright.  I won’t ask anymore.  But you got to start getting in the game, or this spirit will kill us both.  And you won’t make it home to your little sorority girlfriend.”

“Fine,” he said, gritting his teeth.  We made our way into the library and got a computer.  I started heading towards the Jericho Herald’s online archive.  I tried typing in female, murder, and hitchhiking, but nothing came up.  I removed Hitchhiking and put in Centennial Highway.  Still nothing. 

“Let me try.”

I smacked his hand away from the mouse, “I got it.” I got a ‘dude’ out, as he pushed my chair away and began typing. I growled out something about him being a control freak and he sighed. 

“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” he asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Well maybe it’s not murder,” he said, removing the word in the search bar, and replacing it with suicide. A result came up, “this is 1981.  Constance Welch, 24 years old.  Jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”

“Does it say why she did it?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“An hour before they found her, she called 911.  Her two little kids are in the bathtub.  She leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing.  Both die.  There’s your violent death!”

“Hmm,” I said, thinking about it.  It seemed about right.  It was violent enough that it made sense, “what else does the article say?” 

“Our babies were both gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it said husband Joseph Welch,” Sammy said, reading the article, “well this guy sounds real torn up about it.”

“That bridge look familiar to you?” I asked, pointing to the picture on the computer.  Sam nodded.  It was of the bridge we’d been at when we’d first gotten into town.

We logged off the computer and made our way outside, “we going there now?”

I nodded, pulling out my cell phone, “just going to call your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam muttered.  He visibly cringed as he said the word.  I couldn’t help but feel bad about the joke.  It did hit a little too close to home, “the girl I’m dating is Jess…and she happens to be friends with me and Dahlia…so don’t joke about that!”

“Whatever,” I grunted, holding the phone up to my ear.  It rang twice before she answered, “hello?”

“It’s Dean,” I said briefly, “Sammy and I just got done doing some research.  We’re heading back to the bridge. “

“Be careful,” she asked across the phone, “I did some research of my own when you guys were out.  Constance Welch.  Mother of 2, committed suic-“

“Suicide,” I said, cutting her off, “I know.  We stopped by the library and read a few articles.”

“You…reading,” she laughed, “that’s rich.  Who knew that you actually knew how to read!”

“Hey,” I said, stopping before getting into the Impala, “I read sometimes.”

“Oh, you’ve moved on from Busty Asian Beauties?” she taunted.

I smiled.  I could practically see her standing, hand on hip, eyebrows raised at me.  The tone of her voice expressed that very emotion.  I put my hand on top of the Impala and looked at Sam.

“She’s insulting you, isn’t she?”

I nodded.  He reached over for the phone, and I shook my head, “I’ll have you know, that magazine has great editorials.”

“Spell editorial, Dean,” she laughed, “go ahead.  Spell it!”

“I don’t need to prove myself to you,” I laughed.  Sam laughed from the other side of the car and got in.  I did the same and passed the phone to him, “talk to her while I drive.  See if she got more information.”

“Hey Dahl,” he said, taking the phone, “Dean’s driving.” 

He laughed before looking down and shaking his head, “no, I’m sure that he can do more than one thing at a time.  He gave me the phone because you were probably insulting him.” 

He chuckled again before things got quiet. 

“Ask her if she got anything else!” I said.  Sam nodded.

“So, did you find out anything else?”   He sighed before looking at me for a second.  He shifted an inch or two away before muttering, “you know…we have to talk about it.”

“I heard that,” I said slowly.  Sam looked at me, “What do you two have to talk about?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly.  I reached for the phone, but he held it just out of reach, “Dahl, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

When I got the phone, they both had disconnected the call, “What was that, Sammy?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s none of your business,” he replied, “don’t worry about it, Dean.”

“I will worry about it,” I answered, “now tell me what’s going on between you two…because I didn’t catch the sexual tension vibe on the way here, but ever since we got to the hotel it’s been worse…did something happen between you two?”

“No.”

I looked at him as I parked the car, “NO?”

“Nothing happened Dean?”

“Why don’t I believe you?” I asked.  He shook his head and got out of the car.

“I don’t know, but let’s just focus on the case.”

“Sure Sammy, I sighed, making my way down the bridge.  I looked around on the empty bridge, “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.  See anything important?”

I sighed, bracing myself against the edge of the bridge. 

Sammy leaned over it, “so you think dad would have been here?”

“Well he’s chasing the same story and we’re chasing him,” I said, going back to the bridge, “I think he had to have been here!”

“Okay, so now what?” Sammy asked, following me.

“Now we keep digging til we find him. It might take a while.”

“Dean, I told you I’ve got to get back by-“

“Monday,” I replied, cutting him off, “right.  The interview.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.  I forgot,” I lied, “you’re really serious about this aren’t you?  You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer.  Marry your girl.”

“Maybe, why not?”

“Does Jessica know the truth about you?” I asked, “does she know about the things that you’ve done?”

“No, and she’s not ever going to know.”

“Well, that’s healthy.  You can pretend all you want Sammy, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to face up to who you really are.”

“Who’s that?”

“One of us,” I replied, turning back to the car, “a hunter.  I may not care for demon girl in all reality, but she knows all of our secrets.  Just like Hannah does.”

“No,” he said, catching up, “I’m not like you.  This is not going to be my life.”

“Well, you have a responsibility.”

“To dad, and his crusade?  If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what mom looks like.  What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom’s gone and she’s not coming back.” 

I felt anger in the pit of my stomach.  I grabbed Sammy and threw him against the support bar of the bridge, “don’t talk about her like that.”

I let him go and faced away from him.  He didn’t need to go that route. 

He didn’t need to speak about mom like that.  My mind was half preoccupied when I saw a woman in a white nightgown down the bridge, “SAM!”

He cut in front of me, and we both stared down the spirit.  She looked us dead in the eyes before letting herself go over the edge.  We both ran to the edge of the bridge, but nothing was there. 

“Where’d she go?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

The Impala turned over and her lights went on.  I looked at it, “what the-.”

“Who’s driving your car?”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys.  No one. 

SHIT. 

The tires squealed and the car made its way towards us.  We both turned and began to run, “come on.  Dean.  Let’s go.  GO!”

My baby sped towards us, and we jumped over the side of the bridge.  I found myself going headfirst into the water.  When I made my way to shore, I saw Sammy had caught himself on the ledge, “DEAN.  DEAN.  Are you alright?”

I held a hand up to him, “I’m super.”

Chapter 7

[mlobsters]

supernatural s9e23 do you believe in miracles? (w. jeremy carver)

saw a post briefly that said they loved the gadreel plotline which made me realize i pretty much exclusively complain about this show while continuing to watch and go on about it at length. ultimately, it's because i love sam and dean. and i have a hard time with the plotlines that put a ton of conflict between them, which is like. 2/3 of the seasons at this point it feels like. and sometimes the stress feels earned (like say, dean's deal approaching, ruby, etc) and sometimes .... not so much.

like okay for example, as the recap spins up with carry on my wayward son. this song used to pretty much gut me because of how much emotional baggage there was by the end of the season and i'd usually end up crying my way through most of the last handful of episodes in a season. but the emotional intensity just fell off a cliff. it comes out sometimes between the two of them, but not nearly with the consistency of the earlier seasons. and like i've said before, there's just too much shit (plot) happening, it's teen wolf-esque

SAM Something is wrong with you, Dean. And until we figure out what, this is where you have to stay. DEAN And you two are gonna do what? Take on Metatron yourselves? That's smart. Oh, no, wait. No, you -- you lost your Angel army. And you now you're trying to lock up the one guy who has a shot at killing the son of a bitch! Hell of a plan, fellas!

as they lock dean in the dungeon thing, reminded of this

from s5e18 point of no return (link to my ep post)

DEAN Well, they’re right. Because either it’s a trap to get me there to make me say yes, or it’s not a trap and I’m gonna say yes anyway. And I will. I’ll do it. Fair warning. SAM No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call. DEAN You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here. SAM Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart. DEAN I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this? SAM Because… you’re still my big brother.

different situation obviously since there's this external thing forcing dean to go darkside, but speaking of emotional intensity

sometimes they have people's eyelines so close to the camera i'm not sure but then lately sometimes it's just this which when it's unexpected it's my brain screeching DO NOT PERCEIVE ME

really good scene between dean and crowley here.

CROWLEY Cain was a demon. Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power. DEAN What if I got rid of it? CROWLEY You want to get rid of it?

the way he asked that was surprisingly not mocking. and i mean, if he's involved in dean becoming a demon, or just generally (i don't know how that goes down) - he has a vested interest in dean embracing this. and dean's such a mess it kinda seems like he might just latch on to what crowley is selling, since he's not just angry but vulnerable

SAM Who else would he summon? I mean, he and Crowley have been bromancing over the Blade ever since Dean got the mark.

you've seen romancing the stone, now bromancing the blade

SAM Yeah, I sort of got that. I just thought you might like to know that while you two have been playing, uh, odd couple, your real friends, like Cas, like the angel you stabbed, Gadreel --they're out there right now risking their asses to help you win this fight.

real friend, gadreel? okay. that seems like a stretch there, sammy. maybe ally would be a better word :p

DEAN You mean the angel that took you for a joy ride? The angel that slaughtered Kevin? That angel? SAM Who you let in the front door in the first place. You tricked me, Dean. And now I'm the one who wakes up in the middle of the night seeing my hands killing Kevin, not you. So, please, when you say you don't want to explain anything to me, don't. I get it. And I also get that Metatron has to go. And I know you're our best shot to do that.

i know sam is practical, but he must have quite the cargo hold for the baggage he's stowing

DEAN I'm gonna take my shot, for better or worse. SAM I know. DEAN No matter the consequences. SAM I know. But if this is it, we're gonna do it together.

going down swinging etc

DEAN Listen, Sammy, about, um, you know, the last couple of months... SAM I know. So, before we find something else to fight about...tell me...Are you ready to gut this bitch?

didn't last long

i don't particularly enjoy the weird cadence of gadreel's speech. i can imagine it was easier in a way to have something pretty stark so padalecki and gadreel's actor could noticeably be similar but. i'm real tired of it. oh, well. now he's dead anyway

METATRON Wow, that big blade and that... douchy tribal tat sure gave you some super juice.

gotta meet that dean bloody and beaten face quotient

METATRON Ah. So Gadreel bites the dust. And the Angel tablet -- arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe -- is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?

i mean, dean and humanity

i did not know he got stabbed

DEAN What happened with you being okay with this? SAM I lied.

appreciate that, and thank you jared (wiki):

Jared confirmed that Sam was lying in 9.13 The Purge when he said he wouldn't save Dean from dying, and so he changed a line in this episode from "I didn't know this was going to happen" to "I lied".

okay it's that mushy music again! but a woodwind or brass instead of piano. maybe that's what got me so confused, that it's been the horn in the past?? mushy piano in s9e11 and s8e15

i feel like a jerk but this didn't really hit the right emotional notes for me either, similar to the s8e23 handfasting in the church (tl;dr i watched it several times and despite being a wincest shipper i just didn't feel anything)

also.. did they need to reshoot this? the lighting is weird. either the lighting doesn't match the environment because of a reshoot or just poor lighting design choices

and i hate to say it, i've come to love sam a lot and i think padalecki is a better actor than i gave him credit for, but this doesn't feel like his usual more authentic distress :\

back here again

well that did get me a little. borrowing on dean over sam's dead body on the bed in s2e22 all hell breaks loose pt2

and following the thought through of sam being truly alone

did not anticipate the blade bringing him back as a demon, but i knew we got there somehow and that he and crowley were gonna go off on a jaunt

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 196

Road Trip/Cold War

“Road Trip”

Plot Description: Gadreel is still in control of Sam’s body while on a murder spree for Metatron, but Dean, Castiel, and Crowley have plans for an angel eviction

Before I even start…THAT’S how they decided to spell that angel’s name?? After all the -iel names they throw in there -eel??? Really??? ANYWAY

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: IM BARELY SURVIVING WATCHING DEAN GIVE KEVIN A HUNTER’S BURIAL AND WRESTLE WITH THE GUILT OF BEING AT LEAST PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS LIFE GOING TO SHIT AND EVENTUAL DEATH AT NO MORE THAN 18 YEARS OLD

Is…is this angel turned rockstar for real when he calls another angel Gadreel’s boyfriend (who presumably died) or is this just normal supernatural?

God…he’s carrying so much guilt over all of this and Cas is like the only person who can really understand how being “stupid for the right reason” feels now

Crowley does seem genuinely sad about Kevin’s death. Not OVERLY sad, he’s not going to actually show the emotion, but still

Omg you’re hitting so many of Dean’s pain points right now, babes, and you don’t even know it

You know, I was thinking earlier today about Cas’s humanity, how good he’s gotten at being human. How last time we saw him, he was so happy and proud of getting to do the hunting job and grabbing a round of beers for them all…and then he tells Dean and Crowley he has a car that stopped inexplicably…because it ran out of gas

Omg the way they’re acting both like exes and siblings…there’s a glee for both of them that the other has to sit in the back seat but then the bickering over space

Why would there be no more prophets?? Crowley had a whole room of next-in-line-prophets when he couldn’t find Kevin

Metatron, I know you’ve been away from heaven for a long time, but angels are order followers, not really ones for taking initiative. Forgive him if he didn’t kill Dean just yet

OH, the woman with the dog was a demon?? Do we get to see Abaddon again??

Cas is so determined to hate Crowley and voice that hate at every given opportunity. We stan a petty bitch

I’m terrified for this angel, Abner. He just wants to live a normal life, make this family’s life better…aaaaaaand he’s dead. He shouldn’t have talked about never letting go of something you want no matter the price because there’s always a price

Cecily, girl, that talk works with Crowley because he’s in handcuffs and understands conniving…Abaddon’s not like that. You’re loyal to her or you’re dead

Ah yes, JPad’s acting skills………they’re not great.

“So you’re saying we’re both a couple of dumbasses?” “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb, less ass” 💖

HOW POWERFUL IS THIS ANGEL??

Man, when you say trusting…………you’re about to let Crowley possess him?? Oooooo Crowley has a fun red demon soul! Did I know that already? I feel like I didn’t

I will say that JPad CAN play wounded puppy pretty well. But that comes with the practice of playing a character who’s body has done a lot that his normal mind wouldn’t allow

Nah, Gadreel, you’re still a chump working for Metatron

Is this the turning point for the Winchesters and Crowley? Maybe not fully “I see you again—“ “yes, I’m dead. I love you, too. Now go”

Yes, we’re going to appreciate her again 💖💖💖

Sammy’s back!

The boys are fighting over who gets blame over Kevin’s death…omg Dean, I knew this would happen because you’ve had everything crumble around you so many times but I promise it’s not that you’re poison

Jesus, Sam…..stop him. Stop him NOW. Don’t let him LEAVE. FUCK.

“Cold War”

Plot Description: On a Russian submarine in 1983, a frozen alien warrior is waking up

I can stand by the explanation that the TARDIS will translate alien speech into English, and even with some sort of accent from that group of islands…but the TARDIS ISN’T ON THIS RUSSIAN SUBMARINE WHY ARE THEY SPEAKING ENGLISH IN SOME SORT OF BRITISH ACCENT?? (I know the answer, but…come on)

This guys being a complete idiot in the pursuit of science. Maybe DON’T WAKE UP AND THAW OUT THE ALIEN YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WHILE IN A SUBMERGED SUBMARINE!!! Like…???

Like you are SO LUCKY the TARDIS has decided this is where the Doctor needs to be now

Yeah, middle of a crisis like this IS the best time to not have to go through the pretense of who you pretend to be upon arriving somewhere

He is MARVELING at this ice warrior. Til they told the Doctor their name.

Oh good. He got electrocuted because a human got scared. SURELY there will be no repercussions for that

Is that Stannis Baratheon?? No…more insufferable, Edmure Tully

I took a break to look up the actors imdb pages…the number of them that have been in GoT or The Crown or BOTH?! It’s basically everyone but Jenna…who somehow doesn’t have this show in her “known for” section but DOES have the first captain america movie…just, if you were wondering

OH! I remembered! The professor on this vessel was in Titanic!! He played Cal’s manservant

How…long are these aliens’ lifespans? Does he think the ice warriors he knew are still alive? Are we gonna have to take him to whatever the Mars equivalent of the southern air temple is? Though, I fear what would happen if he found out what may or may not have happened to his people, he’s not as peaceful as aang

Poor Doc has to explain everything to everyone and there’s apparently not time to do that but he still has to and IS doing it

Ok…maybe we don’t completely blame Davos Seaworth for what the junior science guy did. That wasn’t an order he gave

Oof. You took the words right out of my mouth, Skaldak has nothing to lose now that he thinks he’s been abandoned

Stop saying how bad can it be! I barely even saw the onceler fandom but I’m getting flashbacks anyway

Ok but don’t say it couldn’t get any worse either…you’re just INVITING worse

Byyyyyyyye Edmure. I didn’t bother learning your name because you were marked for death from the beginning by being incredulous.

He’s so much nicer on this sinking/sunken ship than he was in Titanic. He’s singing Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran to keep spirits up

We’re in a sequence where Skaldak is picking off the crew one by one……but I’m getting suspicious of the professor. I don’t know that I should be, but that doesn’t change that I am. Omg…he just wants to know if his favorite bands split up. He just wants to know the most mundane stuff 🥺

I’m not condoning him wanting to kill off humanity before I’m even born, but “there will be a second red planet, red with the blood of humanity” is a BANGER line

It’s the way humans are perpetually children to all these alien beings…I dunno how I feel about it

What in the deus ex machina?? The ice warrior were still alive and rescued Skaldak….and then the world was saved by Clara singing Hungry Like the Wolf. Sure. Why not?

[nyantry]

"Это правда," [it's true] he giggled. "I'm your little Russian mouse and you... mine. Mine," he added with a grin. The promise of the minimum requisite Christmases made him feel like he was home again, where he was understood and wanted, and loved. "You get me the biggest hat you can find, I'll wear it, promise," he agreed.

Dmitry enjoyed Nico's touch, which he had long missed. "Whenever you're ready," he agreed, about Nico asking questions. There was much to talk about, but he too felt it was a thing for later. Right now, he wanted to just be, with Nico again. Just them.

He nodded when Nico asked about His Dark Materials. "There was a movie, I remember. Need to read the books though, sometime," he said. But then he just shut up, silently listening to Nico explain the thought he'd had, absolutely mesmerized by the halfling. He watched intensely, taking in every word, every bit of information, observing every detail of Nico. Everything made sense, he understood what Nico was saying. To be apart from each other was death, simple. And yet, sometimes it was necessary, but even then, nothing could make it permanent. That was the beauty of it all, the soul mishmash, the contract, the wedding - nothing could tear them apart. He liked that.

After Nico typed the reply, he went for the kiss. That made time stop. It was just one, not a complicated kiss - simple, loving, but real. Soft, like he hadn't realized he very much needed. Dmitry clung to Nico, wanting the kiss to last forever, returning it with the same gentleness, the same sincerity. They'd figure things out, he was sure of it. He got so overwhelmed with feelings, though, that he started tearing up a little. These were tears of joy, love, relief, relief because he was safe now, because he was his. Not sad tears anymore, not really. All his life he'd been rather transparent about his emotions like that, unable to contain them often. He didn't mind bearing his soul or his heart like that to Nico, though. Not with Nico. Nico owned it all, it was all for him.

"I love you," he whispered. These were words he hadn't said in years now, words with which his heart was full to the brim, desperate to dispense, desperate to pour on Nico. "Don't forget that, yeah?"

Still holding onto Nico, he rested his head on the halfling's shoulder, keeping him close. "You said you were watching, in case I died," he said more quietly, sounding a little distant about the topic. "I didn't want to drag you to find me like that, not... not like that, but I won't lie either - it's been a long time. I came close, more than once. I don't think I'll last long either. I just... wasn't sure if it was safe anymore, after everything? Not you, I knew you'd come and Sammy has never failed a single day in his eternal job, but... Hell. No corpses in the Siberian permafrost, sorry," he joked. "But I am... not great, and I know you can tell, but I needed to tell you that anyway. I've overstayed, I have my little reset button for a reason. I'll hang on for a bit longer, I can do that much, and then... gimme a minute to catch up with Sammy too before you come get me again? I know mortal time is nothing for Death, but I haven't seen him this whole time and it feels wrong not to explain why. I'm all yours though. I'm right here."

[ @iconoclast-infidels ]

@nyantry

Dmitry was his sanctuary like the hunchback calling it out in Notre Dame. He wanted to yell it out, claim he was here, and never be forced to leave. Well, minus abusive clergy forcing him to be there. This wasn't like Esmeralda not doing well inside stone walls kind of sanctuary. This was the only place Nico felt safe kind of sanctuary.

So good.

"He might be, but so what if he's Jewish? I don't care what religion he is when I do know one thing. He's from Mutha Russia. I'm your piece of American tail, my libble Mouskewitz." He gave his bottom a little scootch and shimmy thinking he was clever. The whole bit of teasingin such low frequency was rising his spirits up. "Oh yeah, twice a year. Minimum. At least."

Then Dmitry touched his face. Nico's mind was still on Fievel. "I can picture you in that oversized hat." Nico's mind was filled with cuteness overload as these images came to him. He already fit the image of wearing oversized clothes. That was simply Dmitry's way. He was such a Fievel. All these thoughts went through his mind as he reached to finally touch that shorter than normal hair cut Dmitry was sporting.

"Yeah well I missed touching you." He could look in those eyes like they were a familar home, but every glance was brand new like he was seeing them for the first time. The contradiction became a strange tickle in the middle of his tummy. His hands slid downthe hair that framed his face around the curve of his jaw.

"I will. I'll ask." Nico wasn't afraid to ask questions when he was ready. He wasn't ready to bombarde the moment with an interrogation of questions. Over time he'd get there. "When I'm ready."

Then in the same vein Dmitry pleasantly surprised him by propositioning a kiss, but only when he was ready. Also smart despite Nico's desperate need for this closeness. His infernal walls were always up gaurded waiting for the catch to screw him over in the end all the time. He always looking for those loopholes or other shoe to drop right on his head.

He thought this over while looking from Dmitry's eyes, glancing down to his lips, and back up. He thought about what he'd learned. Dmitry hadn't been with anyone else. No emotional block there to wade through. Even his explanation on why not was somewhat ego stroking not that a four year ability to hold out was very ego stroking, but his words certainly helped fill in the void. Besides that Dmitry had promised to fill him in on everything he missed. That would take time. It was already stated that his intentions were to come home and continue to be together. He was willing to go get Gary too so there was nothing too suspect there. Nico's whole family would be reunited. That's really all he wanted even though he wanted the time endured apart to matter. All he wanted more than anything.

As a matter of fact, "Have you seen or read His Dark Materials? Well, I know you have Lisbeth as a familiar, but I feel like in part, I'm your daemon in the way they are described in that story. They're part of your soul. Part of your soul and they actually can't be parted from the person or the person becomes ill and eventually dies. There's this section of the story where the main girl goes far away and is separated when she traveled to the underworld because no daemons could go there in the story, only the people. In all technicality they're dead even though they're alive just from the split, from the travel. It was excruciating to them. It was hard for the little daemon animal to forgive the human for leaving them behind but how could they not? It was like not forgiving themselves. They knew it was a journey they had to take. Just like I know it's one you have to every time you might die. I tried to see this time as the same. I kept a watch out for if you died. I knew I'd sense it. Ya know? But point is... something in me hurt as I knew this was something you had to go through and well, I'm way too self centered not to forgive myself eventually. Sooooo..."

Then he pulled his hands from Dmitry's face and picked up his phone again. He smiled as he typed "I forgive you" on the journal reply and held it down where he could see and yes Constance was still playing.

Then he leaned in for that kiss. Just one. Just a soft one. It was nothing overzealous or as desperate as his body felt to connect. It was careful. It'd been too long and he wasn't about to make himself wait as Dmitry so respectfully offered if need be. No. Nico felt enough time had been lost. The rest they could figure out as they went.

[igotanidea]

Time off : Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Request: can you write something super fluffy with Dean? Like a day off of hunting or so?

Hope you'll like it anon.

Warning: slight innuendo, couple referrals to the events in the show, but no spoilers (seriously, if you don't know it, go check the "pudding scene" :D )

***

Dean Winchester was not afraid of ghost, monsters, angels, devils, genies or any other kind of monstrous creatures. How could he? The hunter blood in his veins was an effective method of keeping his fear at bay at all times.

But…..

Sometimes, very rarely, after a particularly hard case and fighting, he was brutally reminded that despite everything he was only human with all the weaknesses that came with it. Normally he would just shrug it off, patch himself up, get some sleep and move on to another mission. Keeping appearances of the rowdy boy, charming his way with the characteristic smirk and deflecting emotions by using sarcasm and dry humor.  More often than not it was his brother’s sake.  Someone had to do the dirty job, and he was not going to let Sammy get his hands dirty.

Or at least that’s what he thought when he and his brother started their crusade. But it’s been quite a few years ago and now he was just tired. Just that. And moving forward despite everything.  

He was used to being alone with the weight of the world on his shoulder, carrying it like some sort of martyr. No asking for help, not forming friendship or any real long-term relationship. One night stand? Sure, absolutely his style. Dragging a woman into his messed up life? Nah, thank you very much. Even those, who were fairly experienced in the hunting field could not withstand it and that was Dean’s greatest failure and guilt, even if he would never admit it out loud.  

And then, Y/N came into his life. Or rather, slammed into it.

And it was not in the way anyone may suspect. Y/N was not just another victim of supernatural occurrence who the brothers tried to safe. Quite the opposite actually.

 She was Sam’s friends from the law school. Only that Sam never graduated and she did. This fierce and sarcastic girl was one of the most insightful and brave people Dean has ever met. And in his job he met a lot so he had quite the comparison. And on top of all her skills, she was very knowledgeable of the specifics of Winchester’s legacy and family business. From the first day she met Sam she knew that the boy was hiding something, probably running from the past. Silent observation, a few tricky questions and some digging were enough to rim the younger brother and force him to confess. All in absolute confidentiality of course. They were best of friends, not afraid to confide in another and not afraid to just be themselves. Obviously Jess did not like it. But she had very little to say when she died in fire and Sam was dragged back into the past and joined his brother, leaving Y/N behind. For three years . And just like that, they met again by some crazy accident. Winchester’s found themselves investigating a case in one of the countless cities and much to their surprise found counselor Y/N doing pretty much the same. And to even bigger surprise she was doing crazily good, getting information neither of them ever could. They made quite the team, so she tagged along, joining brothers. Being a pain in the ass, as Dean was so kind to describe. Deep inside however, he liked that girl and perhaps was slightly jealous of the fact that she was so good in the same field as he. Sam went even as far to ask him if he was afraid of competition. A mistake he only made once. 

Y/N was dealing with all the inconveniences and obstacles with stubbornness and analytical mind. And Dean soon found himself falling for her. And worried about her safety. And acting like an idiot saying a lot of harsh and untrue words just to discourage her and made her leave for good. Guess what? She did not.

One day, Sam came back to the motel the three were staying in and walked right into a very heated argument, filled with screaming, door slamming and throwing things at each other. Followed by a week of not talking and sulking. It was impossible to work with those two. Good thing the younger Winchester decided to knock some sense into his brother’s head. Accidental, arranged meeting in the middle of the night resulted in shy kisses which quickly turned far less innocent when Y/N and Dean ended up in his motel room indulging in some other activities than hunting. Poor Sam had a really rough night and barely slept (thin walls, people!), but despite the teasing he gave the couple he couldn’t be more glad they finally resolved the case and confessed true feelings for each other.

And that backstory brings us to this day.

Sometimes Dean was just tired.  And she knew exactly when those moments were coming and were always ready to make him feel better.

“Ok, that is enough.” She advice in the most stern voice anyone has ever heard from her, walking into the bunker’s main room.

“We’re actually in the middle of something….” Sam started

“Get out Sam.”

“But…..”

“Do you really want to me to start figuring out what case you’re not telling me about. ‘Cause this is not gonna end up nice for you.” she warned

“We’re not hiding anything…..”

“Shall I remind you I’m a lawyer? You are skilled in deception Winchester, but you cannot fool me. Now out!” her index finger pointed at the door and Sam had no choice but to obey. Sometimes Y/N was scarier than any creature met during the years,  not that he was going to point that out.

“Are you on your period sweetheart?” Dean grinned

“I’m sorry?” she raised an eyebrow

“You look like you wanted to kill him. Cramps?”

“Do you really want to find out?”

“Nah. Thank you. I’ve had my fair share of dying and coming back to life.”

“Right. Cannot deny your experience in the field. Being raised from perdition by the angel of the god surely does ……”

‘Y/n”

“Oh what the hell now.” Y/n turned around only to be met with another extraterrestrial creature in a distinctive trench coat.

“Y/N” he repeated

“Well hello Cass.” She rolled her eyes “what brings you, well, down to Earth if I’m allowed to use that expression.

“You called my name.” he pointed out

“No I did not.” she opposed

“Yes. You did.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, even if I did, since when are you the one to answer the phone? From what I know you show up and disappear as you please.”

“that is not true” Castiel looked above her shoulder, eyes fixed on Dean.

“At least this time you keep personal space” Winchester pointed out, chewing on his sandwich

“Do you guys want me to leave you two alone? I can smell heavy bromance in the air….”

“What is bromance?” Cas tilted his head in confusion

“Y/N…..” Dean warned “don’t you dare…..”

“Why not? why don’t we educate our little wingy friend on some modern terms?”

“He’s big enough to do it by himself”

“Really?” the girl raised an eyebrow “are you speaking from experience”

“I don’t understand what you two are talking about….”

“Get out Cas!’ both of them shouted at him and with the slightest shrug, bit of confusion on his face and flapping of the wings disappeared.

“Do you think he is actually going to check what bromance is?” Y/n wondered

“Not a chance”

“That’s a relief. Knowing Cas he would want to experience it in real life.”

“He’s got undeniable chemistry with Crowley so how about that” Dean smirked but despite the irony and humor he was using he could not hide the tiredness and worry reflecting in his eyes. “You wanted something from me?”

“I just came to say hi.” She moved forward and snuggled next to him “haven’t seen you whole day.”

“Hi baby” he replied kissing her forehead “I’m sorry, but you know how it is. The work…..”

“You need rest, Dean.”

“I don’t…..”

“I’m not accepting refusal, honey” Y/N cupped his cheek “let me take care of you. Please. You’ve had enough. Let me get you to bed.”

“You just can’t wait to get your hands on me, hm? I;m not opposed to….”

“Shut up you idiot!” previous tenderness and care was replaced by a smack through his head

“Hey what happened to let me take care of you?” he whined

 “On second thought maybe you don’t need it that much if you’re up for dirty jokes.”

“Ok, point taken. I’ll be good, I promise. Scout’s word.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Honorary one.  Witness in the person of Bobby.”

“Sold” she smiled and resumed doting over her boyfriend “My poor boy” she moved closer and locked arms around him, hugging so tight, so close, with so much love and affection. “we can just stay here.” Her voice was partially muttered since her face was buried in his chest. “we don’t need to do anything. Just be. ”

“I want nothing more but …..”

“No, Dean. No buts.” She opposed shaking her head “We’ve cracked 12 cases in the last two weeks. Saved hell lot of people….”

“Why does it still feel not enough? Like I could do more……”

“Dean…..” she whispered looking up, cupping his cheek and brushing it softly.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m being grumpy.”

“What’s new” she grinned “guess I’m not the one on period after all.”

“You should have left when you had a chance….”

“Sure. Unfortunately one stubborn bad boy made it impossible.”

“Bad boy, huh? What’s his crime?”

 “Heart stealing.” She whispered meeting his eyes

“I’m sure he keeps in the safe place where it can’t get hurt.” Dean moved his head slightly to kiss the palm of the hand still resting on his cheek “I could never……”

“I know.” she assured

“Besides, it’s not stealing if you captured mine. I would rather call it an exchange.”

“I like the sound of that. “ she smiled lightly “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“ Let me save you today. For once, let me be the one to protect you from the monsters in your mind.”

“It’s not…..” he started but she did not let him finish.

“Just let me…..” she whispered again and her voice held so many emotions all he could do was nod in agreement. Giving in to her completely. “Come with me”.

All that happened after seemed like a beautiful dream he did not have in weeks. Intertwining their fingers Y/N led him to the coach on the other side and made him lay down, never ever stopping gentle caress on his back and shoulders. It was so comforting and calming that when she moved away to get the blanket Dean grabbed her wrist, eyes pleading not to leave him.

“Relax, baby” she kissed top of his head, her heart breaking a little “I’m right here with you. Not going anywhere. Just can’t risk us getting cold.”

“Us?” he frowned a bit

“I just told you I’m not leaving.” She laughed lightly stretching as far as possible to reach for the rug without falling of the bed and without letting go of his hand “So yes, us. Think we can fit under that?”

“I think you will have to get closer to me.” He muttered, arms wrapping around her making her squeal.

“How… how close?”

“Closer.”

“Closer than what?”

“Just closer.” He whined lying head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.  

“Ok.” She responded, shifting positions, one hand on his back, rubbing circles there, other running through his hair. “I love you Dean.”

“I know sweetheart….”

“Say it back, you fool….” She pleaded, absolutely overwhelmed by the peace his presence brought her. Just him, doing nothing. Relying on her, trusting her, not having this emotional wall that separated them from each other way too often. Vulnerable in her embrace, surrendering to her love. Happy tears sprung from her eyes and as one warm drop landed on his cheek he looked up immediately.

“Baby? You know I do love you, please don’t cry…..” slight panic creeping on his face.

“I’m not sad, honey. Just… having you like this…..you don’t even know what it means to me.”

“I love you” he whispered leaning forward “I love you.” chaste kiss on her lips “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I know.” she smirked “Now, sleep. I’ll keep demons at bay.”

“What about nosy angels?”

“I think I can handle.”

“How about humans?”

“Those are easiest to get rid of. Have you ever heard that song dumb ways to die? Quite an inspiration in desperate times” she laughed and the sound made him pull her in more. Just some time off with her was all he needed and he was going to enjoy this the maximum.  

“Can we have some pie later?” he mumbled

“How about pudding? Bet that brings good memories?” she teased referring to the craziest thing he did back in the days.

“Please…..” he groaned “don’t remind me….”

“Oh, I will never let you live it down.”