#sammy's magical au's sinking heart

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 1: Impalement

(Disclaimer: the main character of this story, as well as the concept this story is based on, does not belong to me. That honor goes to the amazing @sammys-magical-au, who wrote an intriguing snippet inspired by Lixian’s latest game, Sinking Iron. I highly recommend you take a look at Sammy’s story before reading this one; not only is Sammy just an awesome writer, but it’ll help the plot elements here make more sense.)

(As for the characters that DO belong to me: while I don’t see them as complete fan-egos, I still took inspiration from what Sammy did with the character that Lixian voiced in the game. They named him Lucas, and seeing how similar that name is to Luis—Lixian’s actual name—it shouldn’t be difficult to figure out who the other characters here are based off of.)

(Trigger Warnings: water/the ocean/thalassophobia, pain/suffering, panic, violence, torture, death, drowning, gore, blood, tentacles, scopophobia, feelings of survivor's guilt, nightmares, flashbacks, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 2 Day 3  Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13

Could’a, should’a, would’a. . .

Lucas hadn’t been superstitious enough. 

Very ironic, considering the career he’d chosen.

He couldn’t have been blamed for assuming that his crewmates wouldn’t believe him. 

There was a chance that he was right, that mentioning what he’d heard would’ve been answered with laughter, or teasing questions about how much time he’d spent in the sun earlier, or creepy anecdotes and short ghost stories being narrated by sarcastic voices.

But. . .there was no way they couldn’t have heard what he’d heard. 

Which meant there was also a chance that he would’ve been taken somewhat seriously, that his crewmates would’ve glanced at the dark clouds through the sleeping quarter’s windows, that they all might’ve even attempted to convince Fletcher to briefly start the ship’s engine back up and sail at least a little closer to land.

Would any of those routes have made a difference? 

Lucas wasn’t sure—he’d never be sure. 

And that was torture. 

He should’ve talked about what he’d heard in the rain. 

It was impossible for his crewmates to have not heard what he’d heard. 

Life at sea required Morse Code, after all. 

It didn’t matter how one went about living at sea; whether they were heading off to war on a destroyer, bringing scraps of wreckage up to a salvaging ship, or collecting samples for study on a research vessel like this one. . .Morse Code was important and efficient enough to be the thing that all types of ocean work had in common. 

So, Lucas had obviously learned the language during those months of training and studying. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d still managed to become as fluent in it as he was in Portuguese and English. 

He still hadn’t really needed to use it. Much time had passed since he’d officially been welcomed into Nori’s crew, and of course it’d been a bit of a bumpy ride, but there just hadn’t been any emergency situations onboard. 

That didn’t mean Lucas hadn’t found himself subconsciously using Morse Code. Whenever he heard rhythmic tapping or clicking, whenever he saw flashes of light, a little voice in the back of his head would translate. In those cases, what he gleaned was typically just gibberish, considering the language wasn’t actually being used. He’d occasionally decipher a random, coherent word or two, but that was also just a rare, amusing coincidence. 

(Now, Lucas wouldn’t put it past Mars to silently tell Matteo to GO SUCK AN EGG! via drumming his fingernails, but Mars also wasn’t shy about speaking with his whole chest.)

That fateful case had been. . .

Different. Foreboding. Unnatural.

It’d been the very first time Lucas had experienced a storm on the ship. The storm in question hadn’t been strong enough to evolve into a hurricane; even so, oceanic weather was always more violent than weather that occurred on land. He’d watched the sky become dark while the waves grew larger and choppier than usual. He’d felt the wind tugging at his hair as the air got colder and heavier. 

Adrenaline had been charging through Lucas’ brain as he and the rest of the crew raced to secure the ship’s more fragile equipment. They’d been halfway through the last-minute routine when the rain started falling; hell, they’d all been half-soaked by the time they were finally able to retire to the bunks.

But as they all laughed and threw towels at one another. . .sooner or later, Lucas found himself focusing on the way the rain had been pounding against one of Nori’s windows. 

The instinctual translation had almost been automatic. 

Due to the constant noise, the translation was insistent. 

And the rain had been telling Lucas to RUN.

The rain had kept repeating that word.

RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN. . .

The fact that he’d eventually managed to drift off, even as the inhuman message kept echoing, had been nothing short of miraculous. 

He should’ve told the others about this.

That would’ve at least been some kind of warning.

It could’ve given them all a better chance.

Could’a, should’a, would’a. . . 

___

Lucas doesn’t remember leaving his bunk. He doesn’t remember glancing around at his crewmates as they rose from their beds, one by one.

He can just barely hear them somewhere behind him, their muffled voices slithering up from the sleeping quarters and into the air. He should remember the morning routine (it definitely would’ve been hard to miss the usual lighthearted squabbling over who got to use the showers first), but he doesn’t. 

Instead, the vast waters surrounding Nori are the first things he sees when he opens his eyes. 

Lucas knows that he couldn’t have sleepwalked. Or, sleepwalking couldn’t have been the entire case. If it was, then he certainly wouldn’t have woken up in a standing position. It doesn’t matter that he’s developed his sea-legs by now: sleepwalking while onboard a ship would be embarrassing at best and outright deadly at worst.

No, something else is responsible for this.

Something else has called him out and onto the deck, all without waking him until now. 

His instincts insist on that, and he isn’t in the mind to look for logic.

His focus is being consumed by the environment around him.

The air isn’t cold, but he still feels a chill race down his spine, as well as goosebumps prickling all over his arms.

There is no wind, but he still feels some kind of force rushing past him, pushing against him. 

Sunlight is obviously trying (and failing) to shine down from above, but the waves are dark; not the deep sapphire hue they usually are, but almost as murky as oil. 

In fact, the only reason the water isn’t completely pitch-black is simply because. . .it’s tinged with red. 

For the few long, slow minutes that have passed since he awoke, Lucas’ hands have been coiled around the railing in a white-knuckled grip. A twitch runs through his fingers, and as he finally releases his hold, Lucas immediately cranes his neck up toward the sky. 

Fog has swallowed up the sky as far as the eye can see. It glows with a grotesque shade of crimson. It resembles the clouds of blood that spill out and spread just below the surface during a feeding-frenzy. 

“Rookie?” Calls a familiar voice, set in a Portuguese accent so similar to the one Lucas speaks with. “Wake-up call isn’t for another hour. What’re you doing out so early?”

Lucas startles badly as he turns his head to face Fletcher, who is leaning through the crack in the door to the Captain’s quarters. 

For a moment, Lucas’ mouth opens and closes with no words coming out. 

And as soon as he’s finally able to stutter, “Captain, we’re in danger. . !” 

THRRRUUM-KRAAAUUGH

Nori’s stern is violently shoved out of the water, only to come crashing right back down with an enormous splash. Both Lucas and Fletcher are thrown off-balance, hitting the deck with dull thuds and twin screams. Neither of them have to see what just happened to know that the ship’s engines and propulsion systems are now beyond repair. More shouts of panic echo up from elsewhere, accompanied by a chorus of frantic, stampeding footsteps. 

As he and Fletcher pick themselves up, Lucas immediately looks over the railing. 

Despite the water’s new darkness, he can see something. 

It’s circular, wider than he is tall, surrounded by layers of scarred, fleshy membrane—

An eye.

Lucas is being stared at by a gigantic eye with a shuddering pinprick pupil adorned by an iris the color of blood. 

Aforementioned pupil slightly dilates as it stares at him, and Lucas feels his stomach start to churn and roil in response. 

This dread isn’t newfound; he’s been feeling it since he woke up. But then, it was only prodding at the back of his mind. Now it’s flooding through each and every one of his veins, coiling around his bones, starting to rip his brain apart from the inside. 

Lucas can’t know what the owner of that hideous eye actually is. 

And yet, somehow, he’s acutely aware that it wants to kill him.

He staggers back, trying to get as far away from it as possible, but it still manages to keep watching him. The eye is only obscured when a blurry shape erupts from the water in a fountain of white spray.

By some miracle, Lucas is able to duck-and-roll off to the side. The shape slams into the lower half of Nori’s funnel with enough force to make the entire ship quake. Had he moved even a second slower, he would’ve been reduced to a splatter on the main deck. 

Lucas crawls further away, trembling violently. As the shape pries itself free from the new chasm it’s just created, he realizes just how sinuous it is, how it’s covered in oily-looking gray flesh, how it comes to an almost whip-thin end. 

The tentacle reels back into the water. Lucas can’t stop gaping at it, not even as he hears a chorus of more splashing and hissing from further below and around Nori. He can only tear his own eyes away from it when the screams all around him suddenly become louder, longer, less-human. Like the sounds are transforming into solid matter as they flow through the air. 

Lucas is suddenly on his feet again, turning around just in time to watch another huge tentacle materialize by the stern. It coils around the ship’s crane—the same one that’s been used countless times to either haul heavier samples onboard or keep live specimens still long enough to be tagged—and wrenches it out of its platform as though it’s a cheap plastic toy.

Wayne and Brom appear. They both lock horrified eyes with Lucas and begin sprinting toward him. 

It’s almost like a magic trick: the two of them disappear as the tentacle hurls the dismantled crane on top of them, leaving it halfway lodged through that section of the main deck. Brom’s howls of pain are abruptly cut off, but Wayne’s screaming, albeit now slower and longer, doesn’t stop. In fact, it’s still loud enough that Lucas doesn’t even realize how he’s finally started shrieking until weight comes down on one of his shoulders. 

Now Mars is beside him, with Matteo right on his heels. Tears are already pouring from both of their eyes, but neither of them collapse or even become sluggish. Rather, they corral Lucas to keep moving with them, trying to push him in front of them before the pilothouse’s door.

Despite their shouts blurring as soon as they reach Lucas’ ears, he still knows what they’re saying. They’re begging him to take cover, to get somewhere further inside the ship, to try and hide so he won’t be targeted next. 

And Lucas obviously wants to comply with those orders. He’s halfway inside the pilothouse when he turns, wanting to grab Mars and Matteo’s arms in order to pull them closer, to ensure that they have shelter alongside him.

He doesn’t even get a chance.

Two more tentacles stretch over the side of the ship: one twists around Matteo’s waist while the other snags Mars by one of his legs. They both writhe as they’re lifted into the air. 

Matteo manages to grab hold of the upper railing, wrapping his arms around it like some kind of tree-dwelling animal on a branch. Even as he shrieks, Matteo still aggressively shakes his head, kicking at his organic bindings. The tentacle tries to tug him off. . .and, miraculously, it fails. Lucas leaps up, trying to snatch one of Matteo’s hands, wanting to pull him back down onto the deck. 

Matteo sees this, and instinctively reaches out to Lucas. 

But that seems to give the tentacle the leeway it needs, as it wrenches Matteo away from the railing just as his fingers brush Lucas’. Then, as if its owner appreciates cruel irony, the tentacle hauls back and bludgeons Matteo against the pilothouse’s outer wall. Not with enough force to drive him though it—just enough to make his body crumple with a chorus of sickening snaps and pops and crunches. Matteo’s eyes bulge from their now bleeding sockets as he goes limp, staring at nothing at all while the tentacle drags him over the side of the ship. 

Lucas cries out as he watches Matteo vanish. And he keeps screaming, seemingly not needing to pause for breath, as the tentacle holding Mars forcibly takes his attention.

For a brief, horrible second, Lucas is sure that the monster is going to give Mars the same treatment as Matteo.

That’s not the case.

Mars is manhandled away from Nori, being dangled over the waves. The tentacle ever-so-slightly dips closer to the water, but it doesn’t pull him down. Instead, it lunges upward in one swift, fluid movement, catapulting Mars so high that for a brief second or two, Lucas can’t even see him anymore. Of course, that doesn’t stop Mars from careening back down, hitting the ocean with a deafening CRACK. 

Mars automatically floats up to the surface. Lucas can see that he’s still alive, that he’s trying to swim. But he can also see the awful twitches that are now wracking Mars’ body, that the pain he’s feeling is almost paralyzing. And he can see the tentacle ensnare Mars again, hoist him up again, toss him into the air again. . .

When Mars lands and resurfaces for a second time, even with the distance, Lucas can still see blood streaming along his skin. That blood smears on the tip of the tentacle as it sends him flying. . .over. . .and over. . .and over. . .and over. . .

It reminds Lucas of the few days he’d spent studying orcas. Primarily the tactic orcas used when hunting seals, to ensure that the blubbery skin would be rendered loose enough to give better access to the seal’s internal organs. 

Yet another tentacle jettisons out of the water, aiming for Lucas once again. 

And once again, Lucas is able to sprint away from it by the skin of his teeth. 

He runs to the other side of the pilothouse to collide with Evan, who immediately takes hold of Lucas’ wrist. Just like the others, he’s trying to help Lucas hide, to lead him to some other area of the ship where they might be better protected. 

To his never-ending credit, as a tentacle appears to coil around his neck, Evan is somehow still logical enough to release Lucas and shove him back. He screws his eyes shut as he’s lifted off of the ship. Four more tentacles emerge from the water beneath him: two snake along his arms, and two give his legs the same treatment. 

Then, they each start tugging this way and that, all moving in unison, gradually pulling harder and harder and harder. . .until. . .

Lucas ducks his head and resumes running in the nick of time. He can barely hear himself wailing over the sound of Evan’s skin being torn, of Evan’s bones breaking away from their sockets, of Evan’s intestines spilling out. 

Brom is dead, Wayne is dead, Matteo is dead, Mars is dead, Evan is dead. 

The entire crew is dead.

The entire crew has been tortured in various horrific ways.

Lucas watched the crew die.

Lucas is going to die; he’s going to be maimed and mauled in a manner that will somehow be even more gruesome than what he’s already watched.

This is all Lucas’ fault. 

If he’d actually thought to raise the alarm when he’d woken up. . .if he’d taken control of Nori himself and tried steering her away from the eye. . .then his crewmates—his friends—might still be alive.

Lucas is halfway across Nori’s bow when he finally discovers Fletcher again. It’s all Lucas can do to keep from collapsing at his Captain’s feet. 

Fletcher reaches toward Lucas, the fear in his eyes struggling against his instincts as a leader.  Lucas flinches away, shaking his head as he sobs and screams and tries to explain everything as though Fletcher might have an answer. 

His head is swimming: The Captain can’t be near me—everyone who’s come close to me has been killed! How is the Captain still alive? Where has he been all this time? The Captain might know something about the monster! Maybe he knows why it’s attacking us! 

Lucas can’t even register the sound of splashing, or the shadow that is growing longer and darker behind him. 

But even if he could, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Time seems to slow down as Fletcher surges forward and pushes Lucas down onto the deck.

A yelp dashes Lucas’ cries, but it’s short-lived. For the first time this morning, Lucas goes completely silent as he listens to the sound of his Captain’s agonized shriek. 

Lucas feels his heart actively stop as he looks up at Fletcher, at the bloodsoaked tip of the tentacle now protruding through his chest. 

That could’ve been Lucas. It should’ve been Lucas.

But it seems Fletcher hadn’t wanted to allow that. 

Lucas can’t scream anymore. There’s barely any air left in his lungs. 

Even as he watches Fletcher’s expression turn blank, watches Fletcher’s eyes drift shut, watches Fletcher being carried off into the water. . .Lucas can’t scream. 

Lucas wants to scream.

Lucas NEEDS to scream.

But he can’t. 

___

A wave of vertigo came crashing down on Lucas’ skull as he nearly threw himself out of his bed. His breathing was desperate, raspy. The sensation of cold sweat on his skin had never felt so awful. The scar that ran along his left cheek almost felt like it was burning. 

Lucas’ movement elicited a small chirp from the foot of his bed, where a bundle of white-and-gray fur rolled over to face him, bright blue eyes drilling into his dark brown ones. 

At first, Crumbs seemed aggravated at being woken up. But it took no time at all for him to seemingly register the distraught on his owner’s face. After a second of sprawling, the cat got to his paws and practically pounced into Lucas’ lap. 

Lucas hunched over as he wrapped his arms around his pet. Crumbs sat up on his haunches to rub his head against Lucas’ jaw, not seeming to care how tears were actively cascading onto his little face. 

Even as Crumbs’ purring reverberated through his chest, slowly but surely easing the tension, Lucas still had to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood. It wouldn’t do for his apprentice to be drawn to his quarters and see him like this, let alone be woken up at this horrible hour. 

There would be no more sleep tonight. 

@sammys-magical-au @mostlyghostly42

[inkbedou]

"Did I ever tell you how I got this?"

click for better quality ;)

...guess whos back?

remember last drawing i made when i said 'drawing of the month'? yea, this is drawing of the season now,,, BUT i was really inspired by @sammys-magical-au's story 'sinking heart' and NEEDED to draw my new boy lucas💙!

It's really cool to see in a fandom so small stories and fanfics cause i have one ive been sitting on for a whiiiile but im so scared to post it lol! also sorry for being gone for a while, with 3sg going nowhere i was quite sad :( but now its comin BACK so i guess i am too!

version without the captions below, and ill hopefully see you soon!!

[noona-clock]

Working On It - Part 4

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Brian (Day6) x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Oh, yeah, and I love you, Nothing’s Wrong

Oh, god.

Sammy was right.

Brian - Mr. Kang - his English teacher - was into you. He liked you.

And it’s not like he had just asked you for coffee again. He hadn’t done something you could make an excuse for or say ‘it’s not a date!’

He had come right out and told you. I’m interested in you.

You sat up, your sheet mask sliding off your face slightly, so you decided to go into the bathroom and take it off. And as you stood at the sink, patting in the essence, you thought about what to say back.

Brian was interested in you, but if you felt he was crossing a line, all you had to do was tell him. If you weren’t interested in him, all you had to do was tell him, and he would back off.

So the questions were this: were you interested in him, and did you think it was crossing a line?

Well, you knew for certain he was good-looking. That had never been something you’d denied. How could you see the man and not think he was good-looking?

And, the few times you’d talked with him, he’d made you feel incredibly comfortable. He loved his job, he was kind to Sammy, he was smart and generous...

Did that constitute at least being interested?

He wasn’t asking you to marry him or even be his girlfriend. He was simply saying he was interested. And by the time you slipped back into bed, underneath your blanket, you knew what you would say to him.

First, you would just make sure that he had really meant to send that message to you. Nothing would be more embarrassing than to give your answer and then find out he’d sent it to the wrong person.

Your heart sank a little. He was right, of course.

I mean, were you really thinking the two of you would go on a date, and Brian would somehow fall in love with you and you would get married and live happily ever after?

Yeah, right.

Just like your heart had sunk not even a minute ago, your heart now soared.

It had been way too long since talking to a guy had stirred up this kind of reaction in you. It was thrilling but terrifying.

And it was then you realized that just because your life was kind of in shambles right now, and you really had no control over anything, that didn’t mean you had to hold yourself back from happiness. Hold yourself back from being with someone who liked you. Hold yourself back from... love?

Probably not love, but a girl can dream.

You glanced out toward the living room, wondering if Sammy somehow knew what was going on in here. Like he had magically been able to read your messages and now knew you were going on a date with his teacher for real.

Obviously, he didn’t know. Otherwise, he would’ve been gloating and saying ‘I told you!’ right in your face. I mean, there was no way he could know.

And... for right now, you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want to tell him just yet. Because what if your date turned out horribly? What if there was absolutely no romantic chemistry between you two, and you ended up never wanting to see Brian again in your life?

No, you would only tell Sammy if your date turned out well, and you planned on going on a second one.

So, instead of continuing to watch your show, you closed your laptop. You put your phone face down on your nightstand. And you rolled out of bed, heading into the living room.

“Up for a two-player game?” you asked with an angelic smile.

You expected him to let out a sigh or a groan or a ‘do I have to?’ but, surprisingly, he scooted over on the couch and said, “Sure.”

I mean, I’m not saying you were trying to get in his good graces just in case he didn’t like the idea of you dating his teacher, but... I’m not saying you weren’t, either.

After you dropped Sammy off at his friend’s house on Friday afternoon, you hurried back to your apartment to get ready.

For your date.

God, your stomach was doing somersaults just thinking about it.

If you really thought about it - like really, really, really - you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a date, let alone a first date.

You’d been busy with university and dental school for so many years, and then you’d gotten preoccupied with taking care of your grandmother and now taking care of your nephew.

So dating? You didn’t know her. At all.

And there was an extra layer of anxiety because the guy you were going on a date with was your nephew’s teacher.

And, like... extremely handsome.

So... yeah. To say you were nervous was kind of an understatement.

But you dressed in your favorite cute, casual outfit. You put a little extra effort into your makeup. You blasted music and sang and danced along.

And by the time you heard a knock on your front door, you were actually... kind of... relaxed? And ready?

A bright, handsome smile appeared on Brian’s lips as you opened the door, and the sight of him caused all of your nerves to come rushing back.

Great.

“Hi,” he greeted, his nose scrunching slightly as he spoke. “You look great.”

...Oh, god. Was this what it felt like? Somebody making your heart flutter? You’d completely forgotten.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, holding back a very goofy smile. “You look great, too.”

Because, of course, he did. His dark hair was combed back from his forehead, and he was wearing a casual but also very cool blazer over his dark-wash denim button-down.

“You hungry?” he asked, his eyebrows raising.

“Pretty much always.”

Brian chuckled softly, stepping back to allow you room to exit through the door, and he waited patiently as you locked it behind you.

You decided not to wait too long to just come right out and say it. In fact, you hadn’t even gotten to his car in the parking lot before you blurted out, “So, I haven’t been on a date in a long time. I’m super nervous, so I’m probably going to be painfully awkward.”

“I teach young teenagers,” Brian replied with no hesitation. “Trust me, I can deal with awkward.”

You pressed your lips together to keep from bursting out laughing, and then you let out a sort of groan-whine hybrid. “Okay, comparing me to a young teenager. Not a great start!”

“No, no, no!” Brian laughed as he fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. “You’re not like a young teenager at all, I promise. I just meant, if you are awkward, I know how to handle it and make you feel comfortable because I literally deal with awkward every day.”

He had opened the passenger side door for you, but you paused before actually getting into his car. “I guess that does make me feel better,” you admitted, trying to hold back a smirk.

Surprisingly, the car ride to the restaurant wasn’t as uncomfortable as you imagined it would be; Brian had been totally and completely right about knowing what to do and say to ease your awkwardness. He kept the conversation going, but it didn’t even seem like he was trying to keep it going. He just talked.

Well, he didn’t just talk. He joked and teased and asked questions and listened, too. Even though it took less than ten minutes to travel to the Mexican restaurant the two of you had chosen over text message earlier that day, it seemed your conversation had lasted hours.

When the two of you sat down at a table, you forced Brian to talk more about himself. He’d heard all about your life by this point, but you knew almost nothing about his. You knew he was a teacher... and that was about it.

So, with what seemed like very little hesitation or lamentation, Brian told you his story. He talked about his parents and the loving, comfortable childhood they’d provided. He talked about his schooling and how he’d attended high school overseas. He’d gotten his university degree in Creative Writing but only realized after graduating he wanted to be a teacher. So, he’d gone straight to graduate school and had received his Master’s degree in Teaching. He landed this job at Sammy’s school not long after graduating, and the rest is history.

“So, you’re a writer,” you said just after the waitress had delivered your enchiladas.

“Well, I guess you could say that,” Brian chuckled, his cheeks flushing a little. He waited until you took a bite of your meal before picking up one of his tacos and tilting his head to feast.

“What do you like to write?” you asked in-between bites.

“Everything, really. I mostly write poetry, though.”

“Oh!” you grinned. “Speaking of poetry, I was super nosy and looked in Sammy’s English notebook. I think I found that poem you were talking about.”

“It was good, wasn’t it?” Brian smiled, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It was! I was surprised. I had no idea he could write like that.”

“Me neither, to be honest.”

“I guess he has a really good teacher,” you said with an embarrassed smirk.

And... you realized you were talking about your kid on a date. You had told yourself you wouldn’t because this was a date. You wanted to focus on you and Brian - not Sammy.

But it was difficult not to bring him up! First of all, Brian knew him - he saw him every day at school! And second of all, he was just a big part of your life now. It was kind of wild how little time it took for your life to change. You’d only been Sammy’s legal guardian for a few months, but you already tended to think about him before you thought of yourself. You would more easily spend what little extra money you had on him than you would on yourself. I mean, you gave him all the leftovers! That says it all right there.

“I also guess he has a really good aunt,” Brian replied, though the smirk on his lips was definitely not embarrassed like yours was. His was flirtatious, and it made your cheeks blush like crazy.

“Oh, god,” you murmured through a giggle.

A giggle. How long had it been since you’d giggled?

Not even halfway through your meal, you’d totally forgotten that you’d ever been nervous about this date.

As it turns out, Brian had a way of not only making you comfortable while he listened to you talk, he also had a way of making you comfortable listening to him talk. He was probably one of the most outgoing, friendly people you’d ever met, and you totally understood why he was such a good teacher.

You were also surer than ever that a hefty percentage of his students had a crush on him.

Because you had a crush on him. In less than two hours, Brian had managed to level up your interest from simply ‘I mean, he’s definitely good-looking’ to ‘he’s kind of perfect?’

As he drove you back home after your meal, you were already starting to wonder if he would ask you out on another date. But then something caught your eye outside of the car window, and you realized the first one wasn’t even over yet.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you cried, pointing to the building with the neon sign just up ahead.

“You like karaoke?” Brian asked, obviously amused.

“I love it. I’m not a great singer, but I love music. Man, it’s been so long.”

“...You wanna go?”

Yes, of course, you wanted to go. That was your whole reason for pointing it out! But you decided to play coy.

“Go sing karaoke? With you? Right now?” you asked with a shy grin.

“Yeah! I’m down.”

You waited a few moments, and then Brian said, “We’re about to pass it. Yay or nay?”

“Let’s do it,” you nodded.

Brian let out a little whoop of joy before pushing on his turn signal and pulling into the parking lot of the karaoke place.

You followed him inside, and the employee took the two of you straight back to a private room, handing you each a microphone and turning on the fun disco lights as she closed the door behind her.

“You get first choice,” Brian said, flipping open the huge binder of song selections.

“Okay, well, I have to go with my default karaoke song.” You searched for the song, managing to find it quickly enough and entering the number into the remote.

“Celine Dion?!” Brian laughed as the music for ‘My Heart Will Go On’ began to flow through the speakers.

“Go big or go home!” you cried defensively (a joking kind of defensively, of course. A flirting kind of defensively). “Please sing with me, I’m too nervous to -- Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feeeeeeeeel you.”

Brian quickly put his microphone up to his lips and began the duet. “That is how I know you... go on.”

Your jaw immediately dropped, and it hung open for almost thirty whole seconds as Brian continued to sing.

“What?” Brian asked in-between lines. “What’s wrong?”

“YOU CAN SING LIKE THAT?!” you shrieked.

You weren’t a terrible singer by any means, but you were definitely average. Slightly above average, at best.

But the sounds coming out of Brian’s mouth?

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Come on, chorus time!”

“Near, far, whereeeeever you are..”

You managed to sing the rest of the song with him, though you kept getting distracted by how amazing he was. Truly, you almost fainted when he hit the notes during the big, swelling bridge. Hit them perfectly!

Who was this guy?!

He was good-looking, nice, smart, funny, friendly, and could sing Celine Dion at karaoke?!

If you let him get away, you would be pretty mad at yourself, you weren’t going to lie.

Brian chose the next song, an easy Beatles song, though he still managed to sound absolutely incredible. In fact, no matter which song either of you chose, he sang it easily. And very, very well.

There was one song he picked about halfway through your allotted hour that you’d never heard before, a song called “She’s Gone.” You sat down when the first notes started, letting Brian take center stage for this one.

And it did not take long for you to be incredibly thankful that you’d never heard this song before. Because there was absolutely no way you could’ve sung this.

But, Brian, of course, was acing every single note.

When the song was over, Brian plopped down next to you, breathing heavily.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked, biting back a playful smirk.

“What?” he gasped.

“You are amazing. I can’t believe you just sang that!”

“I mean, I’m not bad...” Brian shrugged as he reached out for one of the complimentary water bottles on the table.

“Listen, I wanted to do karaoke so I could impress you but it is clearly the other way around,” you chuckled.

Brian was silent for a second, but then he asked in a quiet voice, “I’m... impressing you?”

A very cheesy grin appeared on your lips as your cheeks flushed, and you nudged his arm with yours. “Yes. Very much.”

As Brian was walking you to your door after a fun-filled hour of singing (and a fun-filled ten minutes of singing in the car), you realized you... actually didn’t want the date to end.

You wanted to do something else with him. And then something else after that. And another something else, another something else...

You would say it had been a long time since you’d felt like this, but had you ever felt like this?

Still, though, it was just your first date. You didn’t want to get too carried away, let your imagination run away with you.

“I had a really good time,” Brian said softly as you began to fish around in your purse for your apartment keys.

“Me, too,” you grinned, turning to face him, clutching your keys in your hand. “A really good time.”

“I... would love to take you out again. If you’d like to.”

You didn’t waste any time in nodding. You had literally just been thinking about not even ending this first date, why would you say ‘no’ to a second one?

“I would invite you in,” you began, letting out a shaky breath. “Since Sammy’s not here, but...”

“First date. I get it,” Brian smiled. And then he took a few steps backward, obviously allowing you to unlock the door to get ready to go inside. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

You watched as Brian turned away and began to head out to his car... but then he stopped. He turned back around. 

Without a word, he strode up to you and took you in his arms. He wrapped them around you tightly and buried his face in your hair.

For a split second, you’d thought he been going in for a kiss, but... no. He was simply hugging you, holding you.

And you were loving it.

You’d hugged countless people at your grandmother’s funeral and then again at your brother and sister-in-law’s memorial service. But you hadn’t been hugged like this in years.

You’d felt so many things tonight on this date with Brian. Completely new things, old things you hadn’t felt in a long time...

But this hug took the cake. All at once, you felt loved and safe and secure and cherished and -- you felt like everything was really and truly going to be okay.

All because of a hug. Because Brian had his arms around you.

When he stepped away, the cold air of his absence hit your body and physically made you shiver. You immediately wanted to pull him back in again.

“I just --” he began quietly. “I’ve wanted to do that since you started crying in the grocery store.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as your mind filled with memories from that day. How easily you’d told him everything and, apparently, it hadn’t scared him away.

“Well, feel free to do it again,” you told him unashamedly. “Whenever you want.”

So, of course, he stepped back up and hugged you again.

And when you set foot in your apartment a few minutes later, closing the door gently behind you, you let out a very long, heavy sigh.

Yeah, you were definitely going to have to tell Sammy about this. Not only were you going on a second date with Brian, but you were fairly sure you’d be going on a third... and a fourth... a fifth, sixth, seventh...

Part 5

[hannahindie]

The Wedding Singer - Track 6

“Tainted Love”

Characters: Dean, Reader, Jo (brief), Chuck (brief), a somewhat uncomfortable bride and groom

Word Count: 2,003 (including lyrics)

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the sixth chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @pinknerdpanda entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. I made the 80s inspired aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

As usual, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

Track List:

Track 1: “You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) by: @pinknerdpanda

Track 2: “White Wedding”  @hannahindie

Track 3: “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?”by: @pinknerdpanda

Track 4: “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic”@hannahindie

Track 5: “Love Stinks”@pinknerdpanda​

Track 6: “Tainted Love”

Sometimes I feel I've got to Run away I've got to Get away from the pain that you drive into the heart of me The love we share Seems to go nowhere And I've lost my light For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

Once I ran to you (I ran) Now I'll run from you This tainted love you've given I give you all a boy could give you Take my tears and that's not nearly all Oh tainted love Tainted love

Every single person at the reception was watching Dean in shock as he slurred his way through “Tainted Love”. Even the band had quit playing, although Dean had apparently decided he didn’t need a band to sing this particular song. He stopped after the second verse and took a swig out of the beer bottle he had clutched loosely in one hand, then gripped the mic stand tightly with the other. His bloodshot eyes scanned the room, squinting against the stage lights, as if looking for someone.

His eyes widened as he spotted the newly married couple, “There you are! S’wonderin’ where ya got off to. Anyway, lemme just say a few words.” Chuck was quietly shaking his head at Dean, willing him to stop talking, but Dean pulled the mic off the stand, stumbled to the edge of the stage, and pointed at them with the hand still holding the beer bottle. “You got married today! Ain’t that just a dream come true? I was going to live that dream week before last, but I guess it's not always meant to be. It certainly wasn't for me, because I was engaged to a self centered, raging bitch, but Jeff, looks like you're a lucky guy. At least Sheila...Sheila right? Sheila showed up! That's the first half of the fuckin’ battle and she nailed it!”

The room was dead silent as Dean took another swig of beer. Chuck was nervously looking around the crowd for Jo, afraid to interrupt but knowing someone probably should. Before he could make a move, Dean continued, “Listen, folks, these two married because they loved...well, love...each other. And that's just….it's a beautiful thing.” He groaned as he flopped himself down on the edge of the stage, his legs dangling over the side, “But see, ya need to unner...understand somethin’. It's only beautiful for s’long. Sure, sure, it's great now. Look at ‘em, all happy and shit,” he waved vaguely in their direction, “but it'll just...jus’ fizzle out. And there won't be a warning either Jared...Jeff. She’ll jus’ get tired of ya. S’dont bother sacrificing your career or something you love for her, ‘cause eventually that won't even be enough.”

Chuck finally caught Jo’s attention, who hurried back into the kitchen and grabbed Y/N by the arm, “You need to get him off that stage right now!”

Y/N looked up from the cookies she was putting the finishing touches on, confused, “What? What's going on?”

“Dean is shit faced drunk and he's decided to give them a nice little reception speech. Only it's terrible and everyone is mortified, but no one knows what to do. You need to go out there and get him outside or something.”

Y/N tossed the icing bag down and wiped her hands off on her apron, “Why do I need to do it? Dean and I barely know each other!”

Jo rolled her eyes, “You handled it well last time. Sam told me how you got him home. Just...handle it. Please?” Jo looked at her with begging eyes and Y/N sighed.

“Fine, but...you owe me.” Y/N took her apron off and hung it up, then hurried into the reception hall in time to hear Dean finish up his ‘speech’.

“Anyway, the moral of this story is: love stinks. Good fuckin’ luck!” He dropped the mic onto the stage and high pitched feedback echoed through the room. He slid clumsily off the stage and stumbled towards the kitchen, but Y/N intercepted him before he got too far.

“Whoa there, Dean, where ya going? Why don't we go outside?” He squinted at her then nodded, and turned back the other direction. She gently pushed him towards the exit, and when she caught Chuck’s eye, he mouthed a silent thank you. She nodded and smiled grimly, and wondered how she'd managed to get herself involved in this.

Dean sat on the steps, his hands dangling between his knees and his head down. Y/N stood off to the side, unsure of what to do. What she wanted to do was sit down next to him and comfort him as much as she could, but the bright glint of her engagement ring in the setting sun reminded her that whatever it was she felt for Dean, she needed to leave it alone.

Until he looked up at her.

She had never seen such sadness or disappointment in someone’s eyes. He looked tired and broken, his eyes bloodshot and shining from the unshed tears that were trapped there. This was a completely different Dean than the one she'd sat next to on these same steps three weeks ago. Her heart broke as she looked back at him, and he ran a weary hand across the five o’clock shadow currently gracing his chiseled jaw.

“I'm an idiot.” Whatever had kept her standing was suddenly forgotten, and she tucked her legs under her as she sat next to him.

“Dean, you are not an idiot. You're heartbroken and angry, but you aren't an idiot. No one is going to blame you for having a slight...breakdown.”

Dean laughed bitterly, “Slight? I just ruined their reception. I jus’...I dunno. I don't want anyone else to feel like this, ya know? It sucks. How d’ya know when to trust someone?”

Y/N shrugged, “I guess you can't really know, not for sure. You just have to have faith in people. It doesn't always work out, and you're going to get hurt...but sometimes you find that one person that makes the risk worth it.”

Dean had been staring at his hands, but he turned to look at her, and his eyes locked with hers. Suddenly, it was like she'd forgotten how to breathe. His eyes were so green, like moss in a sun dappled meadow. His gaze shifted to her lips and for a brief moment it occurred to her what he was about to do, and that she should move.

Then, his lips were on hers and she completely forgot about what was right and what was wrong. She forgot about the ring on her finger. All she cared about in that moment was how his lips molded perfectly with hers, and the electricity that seemed to pass between them when he grazed her bottom lip with his tongue. She felt his hand land softly on her hip and she moaned into him, her fingers grasping at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. For a brief, wonderful moment, she remembered what it felt like to want to kiss someone so long and deep that you nearly became one person. She remembered what it should feel like when two people in love kissed; desperate, and full of fire and fear of letting the other one go.

And as soon as it started, it was over. Y/N pulled back with a gasp, and stared at Dean with wide eyes.

“Oh...Jesus...Y/N, I'm sorry…”

Y/N stood so quickly she nearly toppled over, “I...I have to go!” She threw the door open and swiftly disappeared inside.

“Y/N! Dammit!” Dean punched the ground, then swore under his breath at how much it hurt. He pulled his phone from his pocket, stared at his contacts list for a moment, then finally selected the name he'd been dreading to call. “Yea...hey, Sammy? I'm not doing so great, can you come get me? ...Yea, there's a wedding. I think Chuck will need to finish it for me. I...uh...I messed up. No, not just that. I really messed up, man. Just come get me.” Dean hung up and rested his elbows on his knees, his head in both hands.

This was one mistake he wasn't sure he'd be able to fix.

Y/N stumbled into the kitchen, barely holding it together as she turned the corner and leaned against the wall. It had been bad enough that Dean had kissed her, but she had enjoyed it. She had kissed him back, and it was the first time she had felt that alive in so, so long. She thought back to when she’d seen Ketch the day Sam had dropped her off, and it hadn’t even compared to the few seconds with Dean. The weight of what had just happened hit her and the tears came, large, silent drops that rolled down her cheeks. She heard the door open and hurriedly tried to wipe them away, but Jo turned the corner faster than Y/N had anticipated and caught her in the act.

“Oh my God, Y/N, what happened?!” She dropped the plates she was carrying roughly in the sink, ignoring the loud clattering they made as they shifted and nearly toppled out into the floor, and grabbed Y/N’s hands. “Where’s Dean?”

Y/N shook her head, “I don’t know...I mean, he was outside, but I...I don’t know where he is now. Jo...I’m an idiot.”

Jo smiled gently and used her thumb to wipe away a tear rolling down Y/N’s cheek, “Sweetie, we’re all idiots sometimes. What exactly happened to make you feel like that?”

Y/N took a deep breath, “Dean kissed me.”

Jo’s gentle smile turned into a hard frown, her brows furrowed, “That fucking dumbass, I’m going to kill him-”

“I kissed him back, Jo.” Jo’s mouth hung open, still in mid-sentence. She snapped it shut and looked at Y/N with wide eyes.

“You did what? Please tell me I heard you incorrectly.”

“No...I mean, you heard right, I did...I kissed him back. And it was...it was incredible. What is wrong with me?! I love Ketch, I love him more than anything, but we haven’t kissed like that in...shit, months. It’s been months. And then I looked at Dean and he did it so fast, and...God, it felt so right. I remembered what it was supposed to feel like, but...this was a huge mistake. What am I supposed to do?”

Jo gave Y/N’s arm a gentle squeeze, “Listen, Dean was drunk. I’m sure that he wouldn’t have done that sober.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel good, don’t you?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jo sighed. “Dean wasn’t thinking clearly. He knows you’re engaged. That’s not how he would normally act, and I am sure that when he sobers up, he’s going to feel awful about it. He’s in a bad place right now, and you’ve been nice to him. He was just confused. Just...give him some space, alright?” She patted Y/N on the shoulder, then walked back towards the reception hall. Y/N moved over to the sink to start working on the dishes that Jo had just left, and Jo paused in the doorway.

“And Y/N?” She asked as she looked at Y/N over her shoulder, “If you felt like that about Dean’s kiss, even when you haven’t known him that long, and you have even a single doubt in your mind about Ketch...you might want to reconsider that ring on your finger.” She left the room and Y/N watched after her, her mind racing with the observation Jo had just made.

Things had just gotten more complicated than she would have ever thought they would when she first moved here.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here and the lovely @pinknerdpanda can be found here.  Thanks for reading! :)

The Wedding Singer - Series Tags: @nanie5 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tiffanycaruso @faegal04 @bethbabybaby @aesthsuggestion @escabell @lavieenlex @letmusicguideu @charliebradbury1104 @ericaprice2008 @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @journeyrose @kudosia @spnfangirl1965 @pickupthatamulet @faithfullpanicmoon @castianityislife02 @hexparker @squirrel-moose-winchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-babydoll @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbateshotel53 @easelweasel @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90

Dean Only: @akshi8278 @lavieenlex @valkyrieslament @highonpastries

[thran-duils]

Almost Unsatisfying (Beauty, Reputation, and Wealth P12)

TITLE: Almost Unsatisfying PAIRING: READER/AU!CASTIEL, READER/OOC SUMMARY: AU CASTIEL IS PART OF THE MOB BUT ALSO ENDOWED WITH MAGIC (BASED OFF OF GRISHA BY LEIGH BARDUGO. SO Y’ALL, HE STILL HAS HIS “GRACE”!). THE READER IS EMPLOYED IN A BROTHEL AND OF COURSE, HIS FAVORITE. BUT, SHE STARTS TO DEVELOP FEELINGS FOR ANOTHER… WORDS: 2,344 WARNINGS: language, violence Author’s Note: For people who haven’t read Bardugo’s books, jurda parem is an extremely addictive drug that amplifies a Grisha’s powers but creates a dependency that eventually kills them.

PART 11 || Part 13 || MASTERPOST  || Fanfic masterpost

Castiel’s fingers drummed on his desk, agitation coursing through him. As soon as he had heard about Vladimir’s unwelcome visit to his Y/N, he had concocted a plan quickly. And he needed it to work out the way he planned because if he was going to take out Vladimir, he needed to make it seem business related. Nothing else would suffice to keep him afloat and keep him elevated in social graces.

<> <> <>

“I’ve heard about foul play.”

Castiel’s voice cut through the previously gregarious conversation going on between him and Vladimir. This stilled Vladimir immediately and he stood up straight, sizing Castiel up.

“In what way?”

“Drugs,” Castiel replied simply. “And… specific drugs.” Vladimir’s eyes narrowed. Castiel’s eyes flashed as he asked, “I heard you are trying to sneak them into Ketterdam.”

Laughing it off, nervously, Vladimir said, “You go through my shipments with me every week Castiel. How would I get anything past you?”

“That’s a question I would like to squash right now. I got wind that there would be a shipment coming through tonight. And I hope I don’t find what I’m dreading I will find.” He nodded at his men and they began going through the boxes that had come in.

Naturally, Vladimir looked worrisome, even if he wasn’t guilty. And he wasn’t. But… Castiel was sure going to make it look like he was. That’s why he had shown up early to the port to plant what he needed to plant.

One of the men tossed a box of blankets aside and it made a funny noise as it landed, as if something had been knocked off kilter. Castiel cocked his head, throwing a quick glance at Vladimir. Holding up a finger, Castiel ordered, “Hold on.”

The air was stiff as Castiel walked over to the box and opened it. He rummaged around the box, looking around among the blankets. His hand landed on what he was looking for and he tapped it. He inhaled deeply, throwing a knowing look at Vladimir, who looked confused. As he should. He didn’t know this was there but again, Castiel was going to make it look like he did.

Castiel tore the blankets out of the box before opening the secret compartment in full view of not only his own men but also Vladimir’s.

The case revealed a secret compartment that upon being opened, showed a stash of jurda parem.

“Such a pity…” Castiel murmured under his breath, picking up a bottle and examining it. He didn’t even bother to spare a look at Vladimir, knowing already that he would be going into shock and eventually a defensive mode.

Vladimir looked around in shock at his own men rather than Castiel before he blubbered, “Castiel! You know I would NEVER bring this into Ketterdam.” His men looked as confused as Vladimir, starting to get antsy, knowing that this was going south quickly.

They were like rats getting ready to abandon a sinking ship. They were only as loyal as how lined their pockets were and also if they were safe and alive. Castiel expected mutiny soon, which is what he was banking on.

“Apparently, I don’t know,” Castiel replied in an icy tone, placing the bottle back down into the box. Vladimir cowered as Castiel stalked towards him, his eyes ablaze. His gaze was burning. “You know what this shit does to Grisha!”

Vladimir tried, “Castiel, like I said –”

“This speaks more volumes than your word, Vladimir,” Castiel growled. The color had drained from Vladimir’s face.

“I don’t know how it got in there, Castiel. I swear.”

Castiel said nothing, staring him down. There were beads of sweat appearing on Vladimir’s head, his fear getting the better of him.

“Kill them. Leave him to me.”

Castiel’s order was crisp and taken to action quickly.

Vladimir barely got out, “No” before Castiel’s men had descended on his.

It was quick and Castiel held Vladimir close to the edge with a clench of his fist, Vladimir’s eyes bulging out of his head. He wouldn’t let him die though. He had unfinished business. A final blow he wanted to deal and deal it hard. Blood trickled out of the corner of Vladimir’s mouth, him doubled over, clutching at his chest where Castiel was squeezing his heart. With a flick of his hand, Vladimir was knocked off his feet a shout leaving his mouth.

One of Castiel’s men descended on Vladimir and Castiel let go of Vladimir with a release of his clenched hand and Vladimir gasped, trying to breath. Castiel held out his hand toward his own man, squeezing slightly and the man let out a cry of pain, stopping in his tracks.

“What did I say?” Castiel growled. He unclenched his fist and his soldier backed off, looking scared. “Leave us!” Castiel barked at his men and they quickly left the room, leaving Vladimir spitting blood onto the ground.

Crouching in front of him, Castiel tipped Vladimir’s head up to look up at him.

“I knew you wouldn’t do this, Vladimir,” Castiel informed him. He reached out, straightening the collar on Vladimir’s shirt. “You’re not that stupid.” Something cold seeped into Castiel’s expression. “But apparently you are stupid enough to cause a scene and hurt Y/N. After I explicitly told you to drop it.” Vladimir in turn looked hardened at this revelation. Castiel smiled in an unfriendly way. “You just couldn’t handle the thought of me killing your boy, could you? No matter if it was true or not.”

Vladimir’s tone was tight, “Be honest with me now, Castiel. If you had any respect for me at all.”

“I did,” Castiel admitted. “You were a good ally.”

“Then say it,” Vladimir spat, giving himself up for dead anyway and not caring about if he was being bold.

Again, a cold smile. Castiel leaned in further. “Fine, Vladimir. Your son didn’t listen. You didn’t scold enough. And he got himself killed because he couldn’t keep his hands and his cock away from what is mine. I warned you.”

Vladimir tried to lunge at Castiel but Castiel clenched his fist and Vladimir choked, clutching at his chest again.

“Your son disrespected me. I tried to reason with him. He didn’t take me up on my offer. That’s not my fault. I won’t tolerate people stepping into my territory and disrespecting me. Especially when I give them fair warning to retreat. I hope it was worth it for him. I promise I will take care of your wife. Monetarily, I mean of course.”

Vladimir struggled to look up at Castiel. He managed to choke out, “If only you could have seen how devastated she was hearing he was dead. She loved him. I hope you can live with that. Especially wondering if she would mourn you the same.”

(gif)

Castiel clenched his jaw, his eyes widening in anger at this insolent comment. Vladimir smirked through his pain before Castiel clenched his fist completely, letting his power fully surge. Vladimir was dead instantly, collapsing on the floor, blood seeping out of his mouth now.

It was almost unsatisfying how quickly he had squeezed the life out of Vladimir.

<> <> <>

Sam stared at Dean across the table, who was already on his second beer. “Thanks for waiting,” Sam replied with a tone of sarcasm.

Dean let out a laugh and said, “You know me. I’m impatient. Plus, this ale is amazing. You really should try some.” He gestured at the pint that he had bought Sam.

“I live here, Dean. I know what it tastes like,” Sam muttered but picked up the pint all the same.

“You still mad at me?” Dean questioned.

Sam ignored his question, taking a long drink of the ale. When he swallowed, he asked, “Why are you really here?”

Dean chortled, “Something suspicious?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I just want you to be honest.”

Fiddling with the fork next to his empty plate, Dean chewed on his words for a moment. He met Sam’s eyes again, “Doing a job. Like I said.”

“For who?”

Dean took a long drink of his ale, shaking his head a little bit. “Do you know everyone in Ketterdam, Sammy? Because if I say someone’s name, are you one hundred percent going to know who I am talking about?”

“I could give you pointers about who to avoid.”

Dean chuckled, “You’re concerned now?”

Sam looked less than amused. He shifted and remarked, “As if I never cared, Dean. I just didn’t want to get in the same life as you and dad.”

“So, you work in a brothel protecting prostitutes instead?” Sam’s expression hardened and Dean back tracked quickly. “Sorry, I know it’s important. The girls need someone there that not only protects them but also really cares. If it makes you feel better, I was actually doing a job to protect a girl too. One that’s at your place.” Sam furrowed his brow and Dean added, “I can’t talk more about it Sam. You know, honor and silence and all.”

Deciding to not push further for now, Sam let it drop, changing the subject. “Do you want another round?”

<> <> <>

Dean was stumbling back to his hotel, puffing on his tobacco. Sam had refrained from asking when Dean had picked up the habit, instead trying to find a way in to ask again about what he had been doing here specifically. Dean had drank a lot and he was more than likely to spill the beans. He had already done so on a couple of accounts after his fourth pint and Sam knew it was now or never.

“Should I be concerned about the girl you were protecting?” Sam asked him as Dean leaned against a pole on the bridge over a part of the bay.

Dean groaned before exhaling his smoke. “Sammy, you’re off the job.”

“I’m never off the job fully.”

Holding his pipe out, Dean offered Sam a puff but Sam turned him down. Dean shrugged before pulling it back towards him. “No, she’s fine.”

“What was going on?”

“Why are you so worried?”

Sam pointed out, “Because as you so aptly put earlier, they need someone who actually cares. That’s me, if you haven’t noticed. Plus, if there’s some shady bullshit going on, I would also like to protect my own ass.”

Dean nodded in agreement, “Good point.” His words slurred a little bit.

Sam looked at him expectantly. “So?”

It took a few seconds before Dean relented. “Y/N.” The confirmation didn’t make Sam’s nerves calm any. If anything, it made them heighten. “You told me to stay away from her because she was trouble and for fuck’s sake, if you weren’t right.” He took another long puff.

“Why?”

“Why else? Love. Or whatever the fuck people think of as love. Some people are not okay with sharing. And want competition gone.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Sam was able to put the pieces together.

“You killed a kid.”

This seemed to sober Dean up a little bit and he stared hard at Sam, the smoke leaving his lips slowly.

His voice was low when he spoke again. “Don’t think I don’t feel bad about it, Sammy.” He was grinding his teeth, looking like he was trying to keep his emotions at bay.

Sam shook his head, looking down at the ground. “You don’t have to tell me anymore, Dean. I know what happened.”

Dean was on him quickly and grabbed the front of Sam’s coat. Sam tried to pull away slightly but Dean’s grip held tight despite his inebriated state. “Sammy, don’t get yourself caught up in that shit. It’s solved now and meddling in it is only going to turn a murderous fucking eye towards you.”

“You honestly think I’m going to let Y/N go near that psycho?”

“Yes!” Dean exclaimed. “Yes. Yes you are. She likes him, doesn’t she?” Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean pressed on, cutting him off. “She does. And since she lost that other kid, who is there for her? Guy might be psycho but he’s one hundred and five percent willing to go to great lengths to keep her. Might be a bit freaky but at least she’ll be taken care of.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Dean spat, “It’s gonna have to be. I’m begging you, Sammy.” This stopped Sam, hearing the conviction in Dean’s voice. Dean swallowed sharply and added, “Please. I can do some fucked up shit and I know it’s fucked up. But, don’t cut in and try to fix my mistakes. It’s not something I want for you. And I know you know that Y/N will be fine with him. He wouldn’t hurt her for anything. I know that obsessive, overpowering love when I see it. And what is better for her? Being alone? Or being with someone who wants to take care of her and cherish her? What would telling her do? It would leave her alone. And if you are someone who cares, you’ll weigh that.”

There was quiet between them for a few minutes.

Sam cleared his throat before saying emotionless, “Let’s get you back and I’ll go home.”

Dean stopped him and Sam refrained from rolling his eyes. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, Dean. I did.”

“I’m serious. Think about it.”

“Fine.”

When Sam tried to move forward again, Dean stopped him again and said, “It’s fine. I’ve walked home drunker than this. I can go myself.” Sam said nothing and Dean added, “Thanks for going out with me, Sam. I’m going to be leaving in a couple of days. We should do it again before I leave.”

Sam got out, “Yeah. Same place?”

“Yeah.”

Nodding, Sam replied, “Sounds good. I’ll be there at 8:30pm the day after tomorrow. That work?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Sam muttered. “You get home safe.” With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Dean on the bridge. There was a lot running through his mind and he needed to mull over it.

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou  @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @greenappleeyes

[chokememrstark]

A Dangerous Game // Samifer

Chapter: 13/15

Words: 2871

Summary: Sam comes across a very interesting book that describes a ritual in which one can play a game with the Devil. His curiosity is sparked and even if he doesn’t think he will ever actually do it, Sam soon finds himself face to face with this very entity. Things take a very unpleasant turn, but despite that, Sam is going back, as if something pulls him towards Lucifer.

abuse, violence, bullying, black magic, no hunter!au, a lot of angst, a lot of hurt/little comfort

Note: Because I feel I need to add this: Dean is pretty much a complete asshole in this story, so if you’re uncomfortable with that you might want to reconsider reading it (or tell yourself he is completely ooc, fine with me too xD)

Note²: There is a lot going on in this chapter, I apologize in advance for the angst ^^

AO3 Link

Thanks to @sassysupernaturalsweetheart & @brieflymaximumprincess for their wonderful beta reading and keeping me company while writing this story ♥

Tagging: @spnyoucantkeepmedown @samlicker83  @wait-what5 @xantcear (if you want to be tagged, just drop me an ask or contact me via IM)

Sam slept for almost fourteen hours straight this night, waking up way past two in the afternoon with what felt like a nasty hangover. His head felt like it would explode when he opened his eyes and the bright daylight hit them, so he quickly covered them with his blanket, groaning in pain. Apart from the horrendous headache, Sam experienced an extreme nausea, which he was barely able to control.

“What the hell…” he growled into his pillow, fighting with himself to not throw up right now into his sheets. Something was wrong with him, but he was unable to think at the moment, yet alone figure out why he felt this way.

It took almost an hour before Sam finally managed to crawl out of bed, only to rush to the bathroom and empty his stomach right away. When he was able to get back on his feet, legs shaking and holding onto the sink, what he saw in the bathroom mirror looked like a corpse. He had dark rings under his eyes, which themselves were completely dull, and his skin was much paler than usual, almost white.

“Shit… I’m getting sick…”

A sickness was the most logical explanation Sam could come up with and even if is wasn’t that, he had no strength to actually care right now. He brushed his teeth to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth, then dragged himself back to the bed. Within seconds, Sam was out again, his weakened body unable to stay conscious.

When he woke up the next time, it was around six and Sam didn’t wake up by himself, but by an agonizing pain in his chest, that made him feel like he would explode. It only lasted for a few seconds before simply vanishing, but this short time had been enough to make him break out into cold sweat. He only lasted a few minutes awake before, once more, drifting into a sleep that was more or less a black out.

When it was long dark already, Sam’s eyes fluttered open again at the sound of knocking on his door. He didn’t recognize the voice because everything sounded like it was muffled through a pillow, but he still forced himself up and slowly made his way to the door to unlock it. His hands were clawing the wooden door as he opened it, shaking and weak. He barely recognized the figure in the frame was his brother’s before collapsing in front of him.

“Sammy? Sammy, stop playing games!” Dean’s voice was confused, then angry, and he knelt down next to his brother. He poked the younger one with a finger, feeling the fever he had and finally realized Sam wasn’t pretending. “Shit!” he hissed.

With a lot of effort, Dean managed to pull Sam back onto the bed and got him out of the pants that were sticking to his skin. His brother’s breath was short and his chest moved heavily, but no matter what he tried, it was impossible to get him to wake up. Eventually, Dean went to the bathroom and took a cloth, holding it under cold water and then carefully laid it onto Sam’s forehead, in hope of it helping with the fever. Their dad was gone, so the Impala was gone too and the next hospital was two towns away. He decided that, if Sam wasn’t better in the morning, he would call an ambulance. For now though, Dean had little choice but to let Sam sleep and hope for the best.

Sam didn’t notice anything his brother did. Instead, he was trapped in a nightmare that kept repeating itself and that made less and less sense every single time he went through it. He heard an unfamiliar voice shout at him in a language he couldn’t understand and shouted back in the same way. The man who shouted at him was tall, with short, dark hair and seemed to be furious with anger and then, without a warning, he was pushed and fell. The fall felt endless, all the while Sam was screaming from the pain on his back - a burning and crushing, as if his skin was torn apart, almost torturous in its intensity. When the fall finally ended, all he could see was fire and he screamed again as flames began to consume him, begging for mercy and release from this hell. Then, it all started again and whatever he did, Sam was unable to do anything else. He was forced to live through the same scene again and again, with no way to escape.

In the morning, Sam finally woke up again. He still felt hot, but it wasn’t as bad as during the night anymore and when he turned his head, he noticed the wet cloth on his pillow. Narrowing his eyes, Sam pushed himself up with his elbows, only to be met with a sharp pain in his head. He gasped and grabbed his head, finding the pain gone as quick as it had come. The noise he made, however, was enough to alarm his brother and soon after he fell into silence, heavy footsteps were outside his door.

“Sammy?” Dean ripped the door open and rushed to the bed, immediately laying a hand on his brother’s forehead. Sam pushed it away angrily.

“Stop screaming!” he groaned. “My head feels like a train hit me.”

“You were burning last night, what the hell did you do? Do you want to die and get me into trouble or what?”

“Yeah, that’s your only problem, of course!” Sam scoffed. “Screw me dying, you could get into trouble! How horrible!”

“What did you take, Sam?” Dean asked again, frustrated and ignoring Sam’s protest to inspect him. “Crack? Coke? H? What?”

“Oh, shut up!” Sam pushed Dean away this time, with more force than before. “I’m not doing drugs, you idiot! I got a virus or some shit, that’s all.”

“You were half dead, Sam!” Dean protested. “I swear, if I find anything in your room I’m gonna -”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that from dad already! I’m gonna get the beating of my life, bla bla bla. Thanks for picking me up, but now leave me the hell alone, I wanna sleep.”

“You ungrateful bastard think I’m just going to do what you say?” Dean provoked Sam, who felt a hot sting in his stomach as anger built up in him.

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Sam was shouting at the last word, which had a weird effect on his brother.

Dean actually flinched and gave Sam a confused glare. For a moment he opened his mouth to talk back, but shut it again without a word and turned around to leave. As soon as the door shut behind him, Sam fell back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. The hot feeling in his stomach was gone again, but when he had shouted at Dean, something interesting had happened to him, too. It had felt like a short electric shock that rushed through him, a little like when he had held Lucifer’s hand, but much less intense, so much that be had barely noticed it.

“What is happening to me?” he asked the ceiling, of course without getting an answer.

He had slept for over a whole day, without eating anything and had experienced the worst nightmares in his life. Was it because of what had happened between him and Lucifer? What if this was the reason and he wasn’t the only one who was affected by it? At this thought, Sam darted up.

“I need to talk to him,” he said. “Now.”

Carefully, to not cause himself any more unwanted pain, Sam got on his feet and locked his door again. He thought about it for a moment, then took his blanket and wrapped it around himself, rather than getting dressed, and reached under the bed for the candle. He had pushed the razor into the wax the night before and now lit the candle, then cutting into the same finger as before to let the blood fall into the flame before closing his eyes.

Lucifer? Are you there?

Sam opened his eyes, meeting Lucifer’s in the mirror and let out a relieved sigh.

“You’re alright,” he whispered.

Lucifer, however, eyed him very closely and what he saw wasn’t satisfying him apparently. He leaned forward and gave Sam a strict look.

“What happened to you? You look like you have seen a ghost, or worse.”

“I feel sick,” Sam admitted and held his head with one hand. It was still hot and he felt a little dizzy, but he had to stay quiet or otherwise Dean would find out what he was doing. “I slept since now…”

“I would hope so, it is barely morning,” Lucifer huffed, but Sam slowly shook his head.

“I mean, I slept until now since I sent you away. Dean says I have a fever and was burning hot last night and I had horrible nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Lucifer’s interest was sparked at this, but not in a good way.

“I… argued with someone,” Sam remembered and closed his eyes to concentrate better. “He spoke some weird language, like me. A tall, black-haired man, maybe in his thirties or something, I can’t remember…”

Lucifer didn’t interrupt Sam, but the more the boy spoke, the more his skin lost its color .

“We argued and then… he pushed me,” Sam shook his head slightly. “I never felt such pain in my life. It was horrible, as if I was torn apart and my back was ripped open. And then there was fire and everything started over again.”

Sam opened his eyes again, expecting Lucifer to provide some kind of explanation, but all he saw was the most terrified face he had ever seen. Lucifer’s eyes were completely empty and wide and Sam’s heart ached at the sight. He had never seen Lucifer even close to this and all his own pain was blown away looking at him.

“Lucifer?” he asked quietly and crawled closer to the mirror, without even thinking about it. Seeing Lucifer like this broke his heart. “Lucifer, please talk to me.”

“I… I am fine,” Lucifer said slowly, but his expression still didn’t change.

“I’m sorry I told you, I didn’t mean to -”

“No,” Lucifer finally blinked and turned his head, looking at the visibly scared Sam. “You couldn’t have known. Your dream… it happened.”

“What?” Sam’s fear turned into confusion. “What do you mean it happened?”

“Sam… what you saw was one of my memories.”

Eerie silence filled Sam’s room as he tried to wrap his head around this new information. Even after minutes, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“Your memory…” he eventually whispered, still in shock.

“You must have gained access to it when we touched, I’m sorry. It must have been overwhelming.”

“It was, but… you said it’s your memory. So, it happened to you?”

“A long time ago, yes. It’s not a pleasant memory, as you might have noticed. No wonder you are sick, a memory this strong would have undoubtedly already ended your existence if you were anyone else.”

“And why not me?”

“I thought about it, but I couldn’t find a solution,” Lucifer sighed. “There is something that makes you stronger, which is why you survived this experience. Why you got it in the first place, however, I don’t know.”

“I was worried you might go through something similar,” Sam admitted a little embarrassed. “I wanted to know if you were alright.”

“That’s very kind of you, Sam,” Lucifer said, giving the boy a soft smile. “But I feel well.”

“You… didn’t experience anything?” Sam was a little disappointed for some reason.

“In fact, I did. But it wasn’t something unpleasant.”

“What was it?”

“It was like a vision of children playing on a field in the snow. They were laughing and had a lot of fun. It was… rather calming.”

When he heard the words, Sam smiled contently. He knew what Lucifer talked about. At the age of five, he went to a pre-school in a different town. This winter was the first that he had experienced snow and the whole class had spent the whole afternoon on a nearby field, playing and sledding. It was the best day he could remember.

“I saw one of your memories, am I right?” Lucifer asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. It was the best day I ever had in preschool,” Sam said. “But why do I have one of your memories and you have one of mine?”

“It must have happened when we touched, somehow we exchanged them in the process.”

“Weird,” Sam huffed, but still kept his smile. “I wonder why you got a good memory and I got a bad one.”

“I don’t have many good memories, Sam,” Lucifer smiled sadly. “Your memories consist of sixteen years, mine of eons. If you would have gotten a good one, I would be very surprised.”

“Can you remember a good thing?” Sam was wondering, honestly. “I mean, I read a lot of lore in school and libraries, but I don’t think most of it was actually true.”

“If you are referring to me being an angel before becoming the Devil, your lore is correct,” Lucifer said, pausing for a moment. This was a very personal topic for him and usually he wouldn’t speak about it. Sam, however, was genuinely interested in what he had to say it seemed and didn’t want information to use them against him. So, eventually, he continued. “I was an angel, I had brothers and yes, I fell. What you have experienced last night was my memory of it.”

“Of your… fall?” Sam was shocked. Yes, he had read of Lucifer’s fall from Heaven, but he never imagined it being like this. He had imagined a war, fighting, not what he had experienced.

“My brother cast me out, at the will of our father,” Lucifer noticed Sam’s confused glare and nodded. “Yes, I am talking about God. I never told anyone about this, but you have seen what happened, this is different. Michael, my older brother, did it. I begged, pleaded, asked him why he was so blind to see the truth I had seen. But he wouldn’t listen. Michael was the loyal son, he never questioned an order, never questioned our father’s words.”

“Your own brother cast you out of heaven?” Sam was close to tears.

“Father ordered it and Michael obeyed, yes,” Lucifer confirmed. “When an angel falls, their wings will burn to ashes. That was the pain in your back you experienced.”

“It must have been horrible,” Sam’s voice was thick from a sadness he had never thought he could feel. He wished he could take everything that had happened back; take the painful memory away from Lucifer.

“You cannot fathom the true pain, Sam. Be glad about that,” Lucifer sighed sadly. “It has been a long time since I thought about what happened, but I have received my punishment for the treason I have committed. You know my consequences.”

“Becoming the Devil, yeah… say, Lucifer, do you regret what happened?” Sam caught the surprised glance from the other, smiling slightly. “I mean, that you did what you did. Would you rather be back home?”

“No, I don’t regret what I did,” Lucifer shook his head. “My punishment did not fit the crime, I did not lie when I did what I did. In fact, I never lied before I fell. I refused to love humans more than I loved my father and my brothers, for this, I was punished. When you experience such a huge injustice that it shatters your world and your faith is destroyed beyond repair, you do what you have to do, what you feel is the right thing.”

“I know what you mean,” Sam sniffed and wiped a stray tear away from his eyes. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this. It’s not fair that you are punished for wanting justice.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me,” Lucifer answered with a sad look on his face. “I am what I am, it has been like this for almost as long as your world exists. It’s how it was supposed to be.”

“Still,” Sam shook his head. “You don’t deserve this. Being punished for loving someone is just wrong...”

Lucifer stayed silent, but Sam understood. He was a proud being, Sam showing pity towards him was scratching on this pride and he wouldn’t admit it.

“I should try to sleep a little more,” Sam mumbled after a while, his head beginning to hurt again already. He was glad Lucifer was safe and didn’t suffer, but he was still very tired.

“You should rest, yes,” Lucifer agreed with a calm voice. “I am grateful for your concern, Sam. I really appreciate it. Now look after yourself and get well again.”

“I will, promised,” Sam smiled. “If you don’t mind, I will talk to you again when I feel better.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

Sam put out the candle between his fingers and smiled at the mirror.

“Goodbye, Lucifer.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

[lookatmerosalie]

Love’s Consequences, Eleven

  We have reached the part in my tale of life where my heart gets broken for the first time, and my downward spiral begins.        At least, that's what it feels like right now.        After going to the mall a week ago, Sammy decided enough was enough. She would tell him how she felt.        February 8th, 2014. The day my life is going to change, the day everything gets turned on its head. And the worst part of it all? I have to wait. I have to sit and anticipate whatever happens between Austin and Sammy, all while knowing nothing about the timing. So, I woke up early this morning in stress after her telling me the plan last night, and simply have to wait until she decides to meet up with him.        I walk into the kitchen and am greeted swiftly by my fluffy dog. He seems happy as ever, not having a single care in the world. Sometimes, I wish my life were easy like that. Wake up, get fed the same food as every other day, take naps, eat food again, and sleep again. Wash, rinse, repeat. No responsibilities. No worries.        But here we are, in the real world. And it sucks here.        "Good morning, sweetheart. What are you doing up so early?" my mom asks as she washes her dishes from breakfast. Me, a heavy sleeper, waking up before noon? A miracle.        I shrug, grabbing the cereal from our cupboard. "Sun was bright." She purses her lips.        "Well, it's a nice treat. Any plans for today?" she asks.        I shake my head.        "Going to see Austin at all this weekend?"        My heart beats fast, not wanting her to ask me any questions at all. Trying not to be snappish, I say, "Not sure."        She gets the memo and leaves me in my wallowing silence.        I bring my bowl of cereal into my room and shut the door behind me. I eat in silence, just staring at my wall. My body wanted to shut down and go back to bed, but my mind and my beating heart wouldn't stop racing. Every single worry I've had about Sammy returned to my mind, and it felt as though I was going to explode.    The morning went slow, so slow. Any attempts I made to distract myself were futile, and as the minutes passed, my thoughts got more intense and loud.   I just wanted the noise to stop.   At 1pm, I get a text from Austin.   "Hey, are you free?"    My heart jumps out my chest. I type out the words quickly and sloppily, but eventually correct the spelling. "Yeah, you want to hang out?"    "Yes, can you come over?" he asks. I gulp and agree. I quickly get dressed and freshen up a little bit. As eager as I was to get there and ask him about what happened, another part of me wanted time to stop.   I take a deep breath when I knock at his door. He quickly lets me in and leads me upstairs to his room. I sit on his bed while he stands up, looking a little standoffish. He closes the door behind him.   "What's up? Something you want to talk about?" I ask, playing dumb. His eyes avoid contact with mine, staying mostly to the floor.   "Yeah. Um, Sammy just came over and told me she likes me," he says, sounding glum.   "Wait, really?" I ask, trying to seem surprised. He nods.   "Yeah. She even brought a present," he sighs, pointing at the Magikarp Sammy purchased the other day, sitting on his desk.   "Wow, she must really have a thing for you," I say, tense.   "Yeah. And that's why... I kind of feel like an ass," he says, disappointed in himself.   "What do you mean?" I ask, waiting eagerly for the confirmation.   "I... told her I couldn't date her. I've never seen her in that light, and I didn't want to lead her on when the feelings weren't mutual," he admits. My heart sinks a little, thinking back to when I did lead her on and mess with her feelings.   "How'd she take it?"    He frowns. "Not well. I feel pretty terrible."    I frown too. "I understand how she feels. I hope things get better." He nods. Then, he sits at his desk chair, still looking a little downtrodden.   "Thank you for coming, by the way. I really hate this situation, and I appreciate the support."   "Of course, man," I say, implying that I'd be there for him no matter what. He looks into my eyes.   He takes a deep breath. "I wanted to talk about something else, too." My heart stops and I momentarily stop breathing.   "Oh yeah?" I ask, trying not to sound nervous.   "Yeah. Part of the reason I feel so bad, aside from totally rejecting a really great girl, is because of how brave she was for doing that. When, at the same time, I haven't even tried to be brave," he says, looking down at the floor.   "What do you mean? You're plenty brave, Austin," I reassure him. He shakes his head.   "No, I'm not. For years—so many that it's felt like forever—I've had that same feeling Sammy had about me. Except it's even stronger, more intense. I feel deep love for someone, and yet I haven't even attempted to tell them. I'm angry with myself for not even trying, and leading Sammy on as a result," he says, getting a bit worked up. I've never seen him get so intense.   "Well, it's hard to tell someone you feel that way about them. You're not weak for waiting," I insist. He smiles, eyes thanking me for trying to defend him. But then he ends up shaking his head.        "I need to be more forward with everyone. Brave. I came here to do something, and I'm not going back on my word, for the sake of being better. So..." he pauses, looking nervous. I wait eagerly.        "You. You're the one I love, Dylan," he says, looking me straight in the eyes.        My eyes widen and I instantly feel my face heating up. My heart completely races, faster than its ever gone on the track that is my body.        "You? Love me?" I ask, completely taken aback. Did he read my mind?        He hesitates, and I can tell he's really scared. I would be too.        "I really, really do. You literally mean the entire world to me, and I feel so guilty that I kept that to myself. To hide something that big, from you, of all people..." he frowns.        "Aus," I say sweetly. He looks into my eyes, somewhat surprised. "First of all, you don't have to feel guilty. People do that all the time. Second of all... I also did it. Ya know, hiding my feelings from you."        His eyes shine bright and, despite the clear tension in his body, he seems to let go of a lot of that nervous energy.        "Dylan, are you saying..?"        "I love you, too," I nod, smiling wide.        He stands up, completely shocked. I stand up as well, and walk close to him. Our eyes lock, and as I get closer, Austin's face gets redder and redder. But at the same time, I could tell he was elated.        I move my hand up to the side of his head, and very slowly inch my way closer to him. He bends down and does the same.        We kiss.        Austin and I kiss.        I've never idolized kissing, and honestly found it kind of weird when I saw couples kissing in the hallways at school. But kissing Austin's soft lips was life changing. We connected so perfectly together, even though neither of us had any clue what we were doing.        The amount of adrenaline and dopamine surging through me was insane. Releasing, a few seconds feeling like forever, the two of us just continue to look in each others' eyes. When Austin gets a big grin on his face, I basically catch it from him like a cold.        "I can't believe this... happened at all," Austin says, completely shocked. I run my hand from his face down his arm, and grab onto his hand. He holds on tight.        "Same here," I say, for lack of a better word.        The two of us sit down side by side on the bed. He looks at me and asks, "So, what do you consider yourself?"        "What do you mean?" I ask him, a little confused.        "Are you gay?" he asks straight out. I look down at the ground.        "I think so. I'll be honest, I never felt attraction until I found out I liked you. Not even with Sammy. I didn't like her that way to begin with," I sigh.        He gives me a soft smile. "Is that why you were so upset and confused?" Right on the nose. I nod. I look back into his eyes. "I really wanted to fit in. I felt so lame, never having a crush, never mind a girlfriend. So... I just hoped jumping in headfirst with Sammy would somehow magically change things. But it didn't.        "But then my mind pointed me at you, Aus. I had dreams and daydreams, and all those things I thought I was lacking somehow showed up. Out of nowhere, I felt what it was like to be so hopelessly in love with someone else."        He pulls me in for a hug. "Thank you for telling me. I had no idea," he says, rubbing my back.        When we release I reply, "I had no idea you liked anybody either. Definitely wasn't expecting it to be me, of all people." He furrows his eyebrows playfully.        "Dylan Peters, you are such an amazing person. Of course I like you. Back in middle school, you would always buy me snacks at lunch, and made me laugh every single time I was having a bad day. You're so generous, and kind. You have a beautiful soul, and a beautiful face. I don't know if it's possible for me to fall even more in love with you, because I'm already at the bottom of the hole."        I gaze at him, completely melted. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life." He smiles.        "I know I tend to shut down sometimes when it comes to emotions, but when I'm with you, all that goes out the window. You make me laugh, make me smile, make me swoon. I can't express in words how much you mean to me," he continues.        Tears spiking in my eyes, I kiss him again, longer than before. I wrap both my arms around him and he does the same. When we release, we continue to hold each other.   "I feel like if I let you go I'm going to wake up from a dream," I say, proceeding to rest my face on his shoulder. He rubs my back.   "That won't happen, but I won't let you go anyway," he coos.   We sit this way for several minutes. Losing track of time, Austin and I panic when we hear noise from downstairs.   "Shit, I think my dad is home," Austin sighs, releasing from our hug. I frown.   "So, I guess that means you're not out at all, huh?" He shakes his head in response.   "Only to Tristan," he tells me.   "I'd better head out. I don't want to make anyone suspicious and out you before you're ready," I say, standing up.   As I'm starting to walk away, Austin grabs mu shoulder and says, "Wait."  I turn around briefly.   He gives me one last kiss. "See you soon?"   I nod, smiling brightly. "See you soon."