#she was 16 when I first made her and she's like. 17 or 18 now. undecided

[daddymaster21]

Okay technically I already read this chapter, but I was experiencing The Dread and didn’t have enough energy to write a review. So. Here we go!

1. Girl TF?? Why are we so nonchalant about a woman screaming 😭

2. Right okay I forgot girlie has spidey senses

3. Cas is an autistic icon and I love him

4. Crowley my beloved!!! They’re both so sassy, they’ll either constantly want to stab each other or be two wine moms gossiping about literally everyone

5. And so the game of “they’ll finally realize I don’t deserve them and leave” continues

6. I say this literally every time you mention him but,,,, JOHN WINCHESTER WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU

7. This shook me when I first read it. FUCK YOU MEAN THAT WAS PART OF THE PLAN???

8. See. She gets it. The yearning doesn’t mean anything if you never do anything about it.

9. Unfortunately I too am familiar with the darkness part of the grieving process

10. Ah yes. The age old “if I’m not helping I’m a burden” core belief

11. “What do you know about Gucci” he’s the funniest man alive, I fear

12. SEE. THE STABBING. WHAT DID I SAY????

13. DO IT. TELL HIM.

14. Unfortunately he does, in fact, know witches

15. THE APPLE BABEY

16. Girl you know I love you but how did that take you this long

17. God forbid women know things smh my head

18. All of your ideas are good ideas! Unfortunately, all of your ideas are also terrible ideas

19. Cas doing the bitch sigh when he doesn’t even have to breathe KILLED me

20. The bit about the hands is just. So cool.

21. The bit about Bobby finding the condom was HILARIOUS, but the way I now need a oneshot where Cas finds it instead and princess has to explain sex. The Creatures having that discussion would SEND ME.

22. “He would be receptive” literally the most oblivious man in existence is more aware of y’all’s feelings than you are. Please just have ANY conversation.

23. NOOOOO IVE READ THIS CHAPTER SO I KNOW WHAT’S COMING. I STG WHEN I FIRST READ THIS I ALMOST CRACKED MY TEETH.

24. The grin is so real. Gotta use those facial expressions to your advantage.

25. Not her just. Being God for a minute there (she’s the baddest bitch alive and I’m in love with her)

26. Ah yes. The nightmares that are definitely just nightmares and absolutely nothing else.

27. Can I just say. CAN I JUST SAY. I totally called Adam being the man of god to betray her. I am the smartest man alive

28. She doesn’t even know how much better she’s made their lives 😔

29. RAGHHHHHHH KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM

30. Okay. We’re good. (Not really but I can pretend)

31. Love that she immediately tries to kill him and Chuck (derogatory) is just like. “Aww. How cute.”

32. HES SUCH A PATRONIZING DOUCHEMAGGOT AND I FUCKING HATE HIM

33. Okay, maybe it’s just me, but if I was trying calm a woman I “loved” who was actively trying to kill me while also having a panic attack, my first choice for comfort would *not* be “man I should call her the name she barely recognizes and doesn’t identify with.” Just a thought.

34. Literally half of my review is going to be criticizing chuck’s every move.

35. “Is it the binds” he says, watching her actively claw and scratch at her wrists

36. “Not actually capable of holding it within itself” Jesus fucking Christ, Thea. You’re an artist. A poet.

37. Ew a person (entity?) being hospital clean in their soul would be. SO upsetting.

38. Ahem. Please take a quote from our lord and savior, Brennan Lee Mulligan: “Everyone you ever knew who told you that they would keep you safe as long as you behaved were already hurting you.”

39. No but so genuinely, SHUT THE FUCK UP. You do want her to “be good”, you just don’t want her to call it that, because you’re uncomfortable recognizing that you’re hurting her just like everyone else (found family not included)

40. Oh god ew the thought of him calling me sexy— 🤢

41. THAT’S RIGHT, BABEY. GET HIS ASS.

42. Once again. If he said that to me, I think I’d puke.

43. Babe. Honey. Beloved. I cannot emphasize how little you respect her, and the fact that you don’t see it makes it even worse

44. Okay kids, let’s all say it together: IF👏YOU👏THINK👏YOU👏OWN👏THEM, YOU👏DON’T👏RESPECT👏THEM

45. I- I know this man is fictional, but boy howdy my rage is real

46. Yes, because it’s her fault that she’s badly traumatized and had to find coping mechanisms to stay sane.

47. I. I can’t. I literally can’t even put into more words how much I hate him.

48. HEY. HEY WHAT ABOUT ASKING HER. WHAT ABOUT INSTEAD OF WATCHING MOVIES AND ALL THIS OTHER BULLSHIT, YOU ACTUALLY ASKED HER WHAT SHE WANTS. WHAT ABOUT THAT.

49. I truly wish there was a camera here, because it is tragic that you can’t see the withering stare I’m giving my carpet every thirty seconds

50. Sam smelling god and Dean IMMEDIATELY getting flavor blasted by her Fruit.

51. I cannot even imagine the whiplash of that conversation happening and then immediately having to put the mask back on for the boys. My actual worst nightmare

52. THE FOREPLAY COMMENT LMFAOOOO

53. Also. Bossy is to Dean what Brat is to Ben

54. Bobby is constantly fighting between permanently exasperated and YOU SAID WHAT TO HER????

55. YOU’RE JUST NOW GETTING THAT THERE MIGHT BE A CHANCE??????

56. Girl if Dean did that to me, Chuck could be in the room and I’d STILL jump him

57. Jesus fucking Christ, it TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH (it’s okay I also cannot recognize flirting. It’s the autism, I fear.)

58. Look, I’m bad at romance, but even I’m not this oblivious.

59. GIRLIE. YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, “THAT IT WAS SOMETHING”

60. Trust Bobby, babe. You know.

61. Found family, save me. Save me, found family

62. “And can walk” DAMN YOU REALLY DID BOBBY LIKE THAT

63. Dean wouldn’t get any cake if I was there, cause the texture of cake is. So grainy

64. This is one of the only ways in which princess and I differ. I fuck at math, I can’t lie

65. Please, just one hug from this man. It’s all I need

66. Babe he’s so yours he fantasizes about being your weapon.

67. WOOF. BARK WOOF, SHIRTLESS DEAN. (I’m not a furry, and even if I was, I WOULDNT BE A DOG. WHY DO I DO THIS.)

68. “I’m gonna milk that half hour like you can’t believe” I’m in love with him

69. Him literally just sitting there internally googling “how to tell my wife I love her without telling her I love her”

70. THEY TALKED!!! LIKE PEOPLE!!!! AND NOW I GET TO READ ABOUT MORE KISSING!!!!!!!!

71. A pretty man having me would fix me, I fear

72. Please note that I didn’t miss the fact that Bobby said he knew because it was where he belonged, and the last line of her POV was her saying this is where she belongs. You can’t hide from me, Thea.

73. Ah yes, my old friend “I’m good at flirting but only when I don’t actually care”

74. RAHHHHH THE YEARNING.

75. “She liked to test him, though” I am. So Normal about their relationship.

76. She’s sooooo us-coded, I fear

77. She’s perfect, and also the stupidest woman alive

78. Hey man, I’m down for that plan. Chuck dead and y’all married? Count me tf in.

79. Haha. Yes. Who he’s going to lose, because definitely it’ll be only one of them.

80. Okay. I’m about 1000% sure I’m gonna be alone on this one, but Mark Pellegrino looked hot asf in the makeup where the vessel was falling apart.

81. Hey look! It’s my other old friend, “I got so good at masking that now I could be a professional actor!”

82. This is. Not going to go well.

83. Once again, when I read that Dean called Chuck to find all this out, I nearly set my phone on fire. I hate him SO FUCKING MUCH

84. YEAH WELL YOU’RE ABOUT TO CALL THE FUCKER, WHY NOT ASK FOR HIS INTERFERENCE

85. I will say, her surprising chuck by planning to throw both of them in there made me smile. Cause as much distress for him as possible.

86. I LOVE that Sam is like “goddamnit. This is another fuckass plan, isn’t it.” Instead of actually believing she betrayed them. A loyal king

87. Someday these fuckers have gotta learn that hitting on her is the wrong move

88. Haha. This is fine.

89. Poor crow :(((

90. All my homies love rambling to powerful entities so their girlfriend can get the jump on them

91. I know Luci sucks, but he’s also a sassy king and I love that for him

92. Dean is the perfect man and I need him carnally

93. Seriously, they don’t understand ANYTHING about what she wants. It’s kind of impressive, in the worst way possible

94. This part makes my heart hurt

95. Not me realizing he finally finds out what the fruit is right as he loses her. Man, this is gonna go so poorly for… everyone, actually.

96. WHOO! BE FREE, CROW!

97. I am. Wrecked. What have you done to me.

Final thoughts: boy howdy, this was a doozy. Almost reached a hundred thoughts! Adam is in danger, and any monster who encounters Dean in the next however-long-they’re-gone should be terrified.

Chapter 27 - When You Go

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: I call this format of chapter “The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle”

Chapter Title from The World is Ugly by My Chemical Romance

Word Count: 18.8k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean has a birthday, and there’s no other way. Usual Warnings.

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

Chapter 26 - Chapter 28

Read on A03!

You don’t look up from your book, when you hear the woman scream. She goes silent a second later, and the Silver is still settled in your body, so everything is safe.

Not fine. 

But safe. 

In this moment, even as an eerie silence hangs in the air and a cold feeling sits in your bones, you’re safe.

“Dean told you to stop doing that.” You hum, and Cas sighs, dropping in the chair across from yours. 

“I do not have control over people’s reactions to my appearance-“

“That’s not what he meant, Cas.” You give him a flat look over the top of your book. “You landed in front of her.”

He shrugs. “I erased the memory from her mind. At worst, she will have a headache.”

“You’re going to get yourself shot-“

“And it will be ineffective. And Dean has already had this conversation with me-“

“It obviously didn’t work.” You drawl, and Cas lets out a long, dramatic sigh. 

“Would you like to yell at me about flying, or actually talk about the plan?”

You hum, crossing your legs under your body. “I think I can do both-“

“I think that Sam and Dean will only be occupied with the grocery store’s post-Holiday sale for about ten more minutes.” Cas gives you a pointed look, and you sigh.

“Fine.” You drop your book on the table, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “I’ve got nothing. The Sioux Falls public library doesn’t specialize in the occult, and Crowley doesn’t want to play, so-“

Cas frowns. “Crowley?”

“Yeah. But he’s being a dipshit-“

“When did you speak to Crowley?”

“Yesterday.” You hold Cas’ gaze, but you expression must not be as casual as you want it to be, because his eyes narrow. “I didn’t make a deal, Cas, it’s fine-“

“Why did you speak to Crowley.” He doesn’t let up, and you sigh, running your thumb over your palm.

You know it had been stupid. And reckless. And if Sam hadn’t burst into your room, shouting that Adam was also missing, you’d probably owe Crowley two favors. 

But you’d been desperate. So fucking desperate, and a little broken, and right on the edge of snapping in half. Dean had vanished. He’d kissed you but then just left. And you’d been sure he was doing something heroic and fucking stupid, but the longer he’d been gone the more it had started to make your heart twist, and the louder the world had gotten. 

Ringing in your ears and sneering that of course he’d leave. He’d realized what fighting at your side meant, that you weren’t worth the extra trouble or effort when the world was ending, and he left. He’d been right the first time, he’d always been right, but John had been right too.

John would’ve shot you in your sleep, though. And Dean had tucked you in before bolting out in the dead of night. 

It had been a long, horrible day of replaying every single moment that might have made him leave. Your recklessness with Raphael, or the fact that you hadn’t been reckless, but just lied to him and left him out of the plan. Cas wouldn’t have told him that, but he could’ve found out himself. 

But he would’ve fought with you. Confronted you, or at least told Bobby and Sam. 

So it could’ve been the Bride of God thing. He’d finally gotten that you were a parasite or sickness, and that the day God came for you the world would be grateful. That you might have been made for heaven, but all you did was make things worse. Make Dean lose sleep and worry and pour care into someone who’d just leave in the end.

You didn’t want to leave. 

You’d tried to tell him in the dark, when everything had smelled like cinnamon and his Gold had been wrapped around you like a shield. That you never wanted to leave. That the Silver kept brimming a little too close to the surface, and you didn’t want to go outside in case God came for you, because you didn’t want to leave.

You couldn’t go anywhere you wouldn’t be allowed to hold Dean. Didn’t care for Michael’s promises of paradise when it would mean losing Dean. And you’d thought he’d understood. That you were sick and barely better than a monster, and there wasn’t a cure or way to put you down because you’d been made like that, but you’d keep using all your teeth and poison to fight for him.

That you’d fight God when he tried to take you, if that’s what it came to. 

And all of Heaven had just seemed fucking lonely.

The Sky had only ever seemed cold and angry and untouchable. Only ever watched and waited and abandoned you.

Dean had fought with you. For you. Let you falter because he’d keep you behind him, his hand in yours. The Spiderweb sang whenever he grinned at you, even when it was a smug, shit-eating grin and you’d wanted to punch it off his face. 

You’d thought he’d understand that. How this wasn’t a choice you were making. It wasn’t survival. It just was.

You loved Dean. You’d only ever wanted to be close to him. 

He’d kissed you, and it had remade little parts of you that had started to rot—something that had been festering in the cavity of your chest, about how maybe you weren’t human enough for him to touch—but then he’d left.

Bobby had tried to talk to you. Sam had tried to talk to you. They’d even called Cas, and he’d knocked on your door, as if he couldn’t just fly into your room. 

And you might have gone a little insane.

First with worry—he wouldn’t just leave, something was fucking wrong—then anger, then just darkness. A heavy pain that had swallowed you whole, and reminded you that God was waiting. Right outside your window. And if Dean had gone—if he was done with you but just was too good to shoot you in the skull and be done with it—you deserved it. 

He wouldn’t have done that to you. The Spiderweb, still singing and colorful in your body, had kept demanding that he wouldn’t do that to you. Just fucking kiss you like he dreamt about it half as much as you did, then vanish forever. 

You’ve never been good at ignoring the Spiderweb.

But you’ve been good at just sitting in the pain either. The way it makes the Silver riot, and how it spread to the very tips of your fingers, telling you to sprint for the hills or after Dean to fucking strangle him, then kiss him until you both maybe sank into the dirt, and God couldn’t see you anymore. 

You were supposed to be done running.

But you couldn’t just sit in your room, drenched in all of Dean’s Gold and still tasting him on your lips, and staring at the blue on your fingertips. 

So you’d, kind of, sort of, summoned Crowley.

“You know.” He’d glanced around your room, lingered on Dean’s shirt hanging out of the hamper—he’d left his shirt, he’d need to come back, and you’d needed to get a goddamn grip—and looked back to you with a grin. “I don’t normally do house calls.”

“I’m glad to be an exception.” You’d muttered, sorting through your notes, and he’d scoffed. 

“I’d hardly call it my choice, what with you summoning and trapping me-“

“What do you know about angel vessels.”

Crowley had blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“Angel vessels.” You’d snapped, fingers lingering on a Dean’s name, scrawled in Enochian in the margins of a notebook. “What do you know.”

“What do you know about Gucci?”

You’d frowned at him. “It’s Italian. What-“

“I’m not an angel, love, no more than you’re a Gucci wearing socialite. And I don’t understand how this question warrants a kidnapping-“

“I’m going to let you go, you fucking baby.” You’d rolled your eyes. “And you don’t have to be something to know about it.”

“Angels are secretive asshats, they aren’t exactly spilling state secrets to me-“

“I don’t believe you.” You’d snapped, and Crowley had given you an exasperated look. 

“Do you not have other demon friends to bother with insanity-“

“No. And I thought you wanted to be partners.” You’d grabbed your knife, spinning it in your hands, and you could’ve sworn Crowley paled. “You want Lucifer gone, I need a weakness.”

“I’m sorry.” Crowley had sneered. “Are you planning to give the devil an allergic reaction to defeat him? Are you insane?”

You’d shrugged. “Nobody’s sure. I need something, Crowley. Anything you have.”

He’d just looked at you for a long moment, dark eyes seeming to split right into your skull, then hummed, “Dean’s not here to reel your little plans in, is he. Mommy’s going a little bananas without Daddy to kiss it better.”

It would’ve been so fucking easy to stab him. Or let the Silver burst out and crush him to nothing. But part of this had to be keeping the Silver in control, and stabbing Crowley meant you wouldn’t get information, so you’d bitten your lip until you tasted blood and shoved it down. 

“I’m working on something.” You’d hissed through your teeth, and Crowley had hummed. 

“Oh, I’ve heard about the sudden injuries of Raphael.” Crowley had sighed. “He went on a rampage because of that. Killed a lot of my best demons.”

“Sorry.”

“Yes.” Crowley had drawled, his voice bored. “You sound it.”

You’d shrugged, watching him carefully. You’d had to know. “So it worked. It hurt him.”

Crowley’s jaw had twitched, but he’d given you a tight nod. “It quite seemed that way. Whatever you did seemed to cause him… strife. And an apology would be appreciated, love-“

“No.”

It had—sort of—worked. Your trial run had worked. You’d pulled Raphael out of his vessel like Zachariah, and maybe you hadn’t held him properly, but you just hadn’t been ready. You’d be ready for Michael and Lucifer, you just needed that weakness to hold both of them. And in the moment, that relief had been enough to distract you from the pain of Dean. Gone and maybe not coming back. Maybe done, or maybe just dead, but you’d know if he was dead, so he’d just left-

He wouldn’t leave. 

He hadn’t left. 

He’d crawled back to you with Death’s rings and apologies and another, sweet, world-ending kiss, and you’d wanted to scream it at him. That you love him. That you’re always going to want him with you, because you’re safer together and when he’s gone, there’s nobody to stop you from making really, really stupid choices. 

You tell Cas that. Not the part about losing your mind just because Dean was gone for a day—he likely already knows—but that Raphael had been injured in the forest. 

And that Crowley had looked at you, sighed, and said, “I’d like to bet on your success, for whatever little scheme you’re cooking up, but I can’t.”

Now, in the library, after a heavy, hanging silence, Cas frowns. “He can’t know what our plan is-“

“He doesn’t.” You mutter. “But he told me he knows witches, and they’re always looking to pull little tricks. That it won’t fly here, in the big leagues. Then I asked him for any books about souls he had, and Sam knocked on the door.”

Cas sighs. “Unsurprising, but still… Not ideal. We are not empty handed, though.”

You blink. “We aren’t?”

“No.” He reaches into his trench coat and pulls out an apple. 

An iridescent, glowing apple, so incredibly out of place on the chipped wood and florescent lights of the library.

“Cas-”

“Our primary issue is that you might have enough practice or power to take hold one Archangel. Two is even less likely.” He nods to the apple. “This will help.”

“I- How?”

“I went back to the garden.”

“Cas,” you keep your words slow. “You can’t get into Heaven, they’ve locked you out-“

“Joshua let me in.” Cas frowns at you. “I wasn’t reckless. I didn’t stay long, and Michael and Raphael tend not to bother looking there.”

“Well, why did you go back-“

“For the apple.” He’s looking at you as if you’re the crazy one, for not wanting him to be smited, and you let out a heavy breath through your nose. 

“Cas. I don’t understand how an apple is worth such a massive fucking risk-“

“It is not an apple.” Cas says your name, his tone slightly exasperated. “It is an apple from the Tree. And while we don’t understand how you being a Magdalene is connected to you being the Bride, that doesn’t change that you are one.”

You blink at him. “And?”

“Lilith was the tender of the Tree, before her exile.”

“The- Oh, fuck.” It hits you, and you gape at Cas for a long, silent moment. “You mean the tree. The Eden tree.”

Cas nods. “Yes. That tree. Its apples are holy, and consuming one will, theoretically, offer you a stronger connection to Heaven.”

“And me being a Magdalene matters because-“

“You are descended from Lilith.” He shrugs. “From what I understand, the apples run in your blood. It is not a sin for you to consume them.”

“Oh.” You swallow, glancing down to the apple on the table. “What?”

Cas sighs. “I do not know the whole story. It is not the exact one told in the Bible, and I was always told Michael preferred not to speak of it. But Lilith was the first wife of Adam. And eating the apple only became a sin after her banishment.”

“But- I-“

“It will make you stronger.” Cas mutters. “That is what’s important.”

You take a long, slow breath. He’s right. Now isn’t the time to dwell on another confusing angel story. “You want me to take steroids, so we can win.”

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“It’s like a drug that- Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

Cas gives you a tight nod, and you stare at the apple. It’s not crumbling away, like the ones that grow when you lose control. And Cas is right. You do need a boost. 

But even if it works, you still need more. 

“Okay. But,” You lean forward, and Cas frowns at you. “I have an idea.”

“You said you had nothing.” 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “About vessels. But Raphael was already on guard against me. He didn’t seem to trust that I actually was the Bride.”

“He had become disillusioned with God altogether.” Cas mutters, still frowning at you. “That is not surprising, but I don’t understand-“

“I need to get their guards down.”

Cas falls silent again. Staring at you for a long, stretched out moment before shaking his head, words low and firm. “No.”

“It’s a good idea-“

“It is not a good idea. There is no evidence it would be effective, and Dean will be furious. He will rampage-“

“Rampage-“

“Yes. Rampage. He

“Then we tell Dean.”

He hisses your name. “That will not go well-“

“Maybe.” You shrug. “But we don’t have any other options.”

Cas lets out a long, slow breath, and shakes his head. “There are too many ways it could go wrong. One misstep or slip up-“

“I don’t misstep.” You raise your chin, making your voice as commanding as you can manage when there’s a cold, wired fear running over your skin. 

It is a bad idea. One of your worst.

There’s no other way, if you want to keep Sam out of the cage. If you want your family to walk out of this intact, with little lost, and nothing broken. 

Dean gets to have Sam, so that when you’re gone, he won’t be alone. Sam won’t have to sacrifice himself for something that’s not his fault.

You pull Michael and Lucifer out of their vessel and toss them in the pit, you’ll be using the Silver properly. Salvation, not damnation. And you can’t die—you think, because you haven’t yet and something tells you God won’t let you out that easy—so you’re in the best position to play offense.

But a lifetime of fighting the Silver and self-inflicted torture on your body is, once again, catching up with you. You won’t be strong enough to just grab two archangels without the Silver exploding, and damaging a lot more than you can afford. You just need an extra boost, and an easier way in. 

So it’s a bad idea. You’re pretty sure Cas is only helping you because he thinks if he doesn’t, you’ll just do it behind his back. 

And this is pushing the bounds of bad idea into horrible, godawful, borderline insane idea, but nobody’s offering anything better.

And Cas is right.

You’ll just do it anyway, and he won't be able to stop you. 

You can see it on his face, as he stares at you. The slight twisting of his features as he tries to find a comeback, fails to, and concludes that this is happening. And he’s either with you, or not. 

“Sam can’t know.” He mutters. “We will need to make that clear to Dean. If he tells Sam-“

“Lucifer will know to.” You finish, rubbing your wrists. “I won’t tell him until he promises not to say anything. To Bobby, either. He’ll try to stop me.”

Cas gives you a flat look. “He’d be right.”

You ignore him. “It’s going to have to be Lucifer.”

“Michael may be safer-“

“No,” you shake your head, frowning at the table. “I think I ruined any chance of using Michael with the Raphael thing. It has to be Lucifer.”

Cas lets out a long sigh—he’s been picking up a lot of you, Sam, and Dean’s habits lately, namely the Sam Bitch-Sigh, and you know he’s doing it on purpose because the drama queen doesn’t have to breathe—and nods slowly. “That is… a fair point. And Michael will likely make no attempts to engage you, even at Lucifer’s side. But if you side against Lucifer, he will be… unforgiving.”

Fuck, that’s a good point too. “Okay. I- I think I can use Adam. Say that I went over to Lucifer because Michael didn’t have anything I wanted.”

Cas’ jaw twitches. “Dean.”

You give a small nod—you really don’t want to talk about it—and Cas tilts his head at you. 

You know Cas knows. Maybe not that you love Dean, but that it’s more than just friendship. He can see your soul, same as you can see all his hands folded into the two in his lap. He’s seen the way you’re embedded in Dean. Been with you when you’d confronted Famine, and he’d taunted you about how your hunger for Dean would make him so powerful he’d devour suns. 

He’d sat with you yesterday, when the sun had started to set and Dean still hadn’t returned. Gently tried herding you to bed, before telling you he didn’t know how to drive, but would eat ice cream with you in the kitchen if it was needed. 

And you’ve told him about the deals, while Sam and Dean were on a hunt last week. If the plan was going to work properly, he needed to know as much as possible. 

Not how you dreamt of Dean. Not how you’d always crashed into his gravity, and never been able—or really cared to—pull away. Not the full extent of your plan, or how God was watching you. 

But the deals were relevant to the plan. To being the Bride of God, and both Michael and Lucifer being so desperate to have you on their team.

So Cas knows. 

And that’s why his words are so careful. 

“Is Dean aware that he is the center of the deal?” He says, and you shake your head.

“No. And I- Cas, you can’t tell him-“

“I have no plan to. But if I would not count on him never knowing. When we tell him-“

“He knows they offered me deals. That I’d never really agree to either of them. But-“ You squeeze your hand on your wrist, the sting of raw skin makes the Silver turn in your body. “Cas, he can’t know. Please.”

Cas frowns at you. “Why. He would be receptive-“

“I can’t do that to him.” You whisper, bile rising in your throat. “It’s- We’ll tell him about the plan tomorrow, and I’ll switch sides when Sam lets Lucifer in.”

“There is still the chance Sam will overpower him.” Cas mutters, and you swallow.

“Then I’ll just pull him out there.”

Cas says your name, but cuts himself off with a frown. 

“Cas-“

“Dean is praying to me.” He mutters. “Their credit card got frozen.”

You still feel sick, but the Spiderweb is glowing and casting light around your body. He does that all the time, the adorable, perfect dumbass. Prays to Cas for small things, and you can see the annoyance on Cas’ face, but you know it’s fake. The same way that when you’re trying to read and Dean starts asking you questions, you roll your eyes but indulge him anyway, because it’s Dean.

“I have told him to stop using me for this-“

“It’s his birthday, Cas.” You give him a small smile. “Yell at him tomorrow.”

He glares at you. “We are not finished with this conversation-“

“Yeah, we are.” You pick up your book with a shrug. “I’m fake siding with Lucifer to get close to him, and pull him out of his vessel. If Sam gets the up, I pull him there. If he can’t, I get to pull him and Michael. That’s it. Easy.”

Cas stares at you for a moment longer, and you give him a wide, bored grin. It’s the one you learned from Dean, that says I have never done anything wrong in my life, and it’s unbelievable you’d even believe that I am capable of that. And somehow, Cas buys it. He sighs, and gives you a tight nod.

��You should test the apple.” He mutters. “I picked two.” 

Your chew on your lips, but hum an agreement. “Do I, just-“

“Eat it. Then try to do something.”

“Something?”

Cas nods, and you take the apple with a careful touch. It doesn’t melt or vanish. You can even taste it, and definitely fruit, but not quite apple.  

You swallow, and you’re about to ask Cas how long you should wait when it hits you. 

It is a steroid. 

The Silver is vast and bright and in perfect harmony with almost everything. No pain, just like when you’d been in Heaven. Just you, and you’re all knowledge of the books, the peaceful dreams of the librarian Cas knocked out, and the love of the knife in your jacket, ready to bloody itself however you want it to.

“It worked.” You mumble, and Cas sits a little taller.

“Good. Dean is still-“

“Wait.” You lean across the table, and you can’t just let this ebb away and go to waste. 

You press your hand over Cas’ brow, and he tenses, but doesn’t pull away. All the Silver flows easily, right into your palm, and dips right into that electric blue Cas is made of. Feeds like lightning striking an ocean, making it crackle and rises and grow brighter and brighter and brighter until you pull away, and Cas blinks at you slowly. 

You’re not embedded in him. And he seems to have absorbed all the Silver you offered him, but you don’t feel smaller.

If anything, you feel bigger. Brighter. More.

“I feel…” Cas trails off, giving you a look of disbelief. “What did you do.”

“Your Grace is back.” You pull your knees back up to your chest, grabbing your book from the table. “Don’t tell Sam and Dean.”

Cas blinks at you, and you sigh.

“They’ll ask questions. Now go get them before Dean tries to rob the store and they get arrested again.”

Cas still doesn’t move. “Thank you,” he mutters your name, and you give him a weak smile.

“Of course. You’re my friend, Cas.”

He nods, looking at you with an odd, unreadable expression, then vanishes into the air. 

You turn your attention back down to the book, but you’re not really reading. 

You hadn’t thought of the chance that Sam does overpower Lucifer. Not because Sam isn’t strong, but because you’ve seen Lucifer. All his teeth and Red and anger. Since Sam thought of the let Lucifer in idea, you’ve been having nightmares about bloodied teeth sinking into Sam’s neck, and Dean’s broken expression, and an empty seat at the dinner table.

There’s already one, still stained blue, deep into the wood. Now coated in a light orange, where Adam had sat for almost a month. 

Sam had been confused, as to why Adam would just up and take in Michael. But Cas had thrown you a look, and you’d know. 

Men of God never could resist a Magdalene. 

You’d done this. If you weren’t here, Sam and Dean probably would’ve grabbed Adam from Zachariah, and they’d be down one archangel to worry about. 

A lot of things would be better, if you weren’t here. Weren’t their problem. They wouldn’t be worrying about the Bride of God situation, spending too much time and thought on something that’s only your curse, only your sickness. And you’re not going to leave them, you’d promised you wouldn’t run, but anything you have to do so they both get to rest, you will. 

It doesn’t matter what happens to you. If God takes you right when it’s done. If you, someone, get one second longer to make up for all the ruin and wreckage you’ve brought into their lives. Something to, maybe, prove that John hadn’t been right. Even though you know he was. If someone had managed to properly muzzle or cage you, Dean wouldn’t be losing sleep. Sam wouldn’t be stretching himself thin to try and help you research any Bride of God legends you can find.

Legends that don’t make this better. Legends that only tell you what you’ve known. 

You’re destined to marry God. It’s written in old Babylonian ruins, painted and faded on cave walls, and carved into ancient, rusted Phoenician weapons. All in Enochian, all found by Sam on scholarly websites, all right under your nose your whole fucking life. 

All reminding you what you’d been told so long ago. 

The Sky was watching. It’s going to swallow you whole. 

And you can feel him, before you see him. And your gaze darts to the window, but he’s not in the sky. You can feel his eyes on you, and it’s all suddenly off kilter, like the whole world has been caught in a lense flare. Something strong is wrapping around your wrists, sending a rush of blinding panic up your spine and throat, the Silver has started to stir in your body. It’s stronger than before. Leaking out, until you can feel the wrath of the air around you, the tension of the earth as it welcomes it’s father home, and the hope of every space in between. To grab your attention, begging to be more than just nothing at all. 

You’re still you. Maybe it’s just the lasting effects of the apple, but the Silver seems to be running up and up and up without making you too big. But the Spiderweb is sinking. Trying to sink deeper and deeper into the Silver. Trying to hide as the pain hits you. 

So much fucking pain, because the Sky isn’t watching. 

You turn, away from the window, and he’s sitting at your table, right where Cas had been only a second ago. 

God. Small and bearded and smiling at you, like he’s your fucking friend.

You don’t think. The Silver seems to be in pain from ripping into itself—desperate to properly explode and attack him, but not quite powerful enough to break from that tie around your wrists—but you don’t need it. 

It’s barely a split second before you have your knife in your hand, and you’re vaulting across the table to drive it into God’s heart. 

His eyes widen just slightly, the odd, colorless white light flashing, and suddenly you’re back in your chair. And when you try and throw the knife, right for his heart, the light just flashes again, and it returns to your head. You let out a strangled sound, the grip of the white on your wrists starting to flood the Silver, pushing it higher and higher with panic, and you’re going to explode. When you try and aim a kick at his balls under the table, your feet meet nothing. A choked sob escapes your throat—not now, he can’t be coming for you now—and try to leap back over the table with only your nails, aimed right for his eyes. 

“Hey!” God grabs your wrists, and the Silver rushes up. “Stop, I’m not here to take you-“

You don’t believe him. The Silver is scratching under your skin, and you can’t go, not when Sam and Dean need you, and it’s Dean birthday and he deserves one good fucking birthday-

God snaps your name—Enochian, almost echoing off the walls of the library like you’re in a canyon—and it doesn’t calm you down. You’re still a little feral, and the white strength around your wrists feels like it’s strangling your throat-

“I- I can’t-“ You try to move away from him—it’s all you can do now—and claw at your wrists, trying to get it off, it has to come off-

“Can you please stop freaking out?” He says, his tone almost pleading. “I told you, I’m not going to grab you right now. I just want to talk, and- Wait-“

The light flares again, and you’re back in your seat. You’re still everything, and the line between what’s you and what’s not is blurring, and you can’t fucking breathe, there’s a dull pain on your wrists as you try to scratch the white-hot power off, and you might be drawing blood, but you can’t breathe-

“Is it the binds?” God says, and you can hear a frown in his voice, but you can’t really see anything but color and all the gaps between the stars. “If it’s the binds, I can take them off.”

You blink and make another weak sound, and God clears his throat.

“I can only promise so many times not to hurt you, at some point you’re going to have take a deep breath. And I’m actually risking a lot to be here. Sam and Dean could show up any moment, if the credit card thing doesn’t work.” He laughs to himself. “I mean, I could just freeze them, but, y’know. Whole free will show. So if you could please calm down-“

You are calming down. You’d heard Dean, and the Spiderweb had hummed, and a lot of panic had softened. Sam and Dean could come back. He wasn’t going to take you, or hurt them, at least for now. 

And you’re still right on the edge of snapping, but you’re drawing blood on your wrists, and the Silver is dragging back down. 

It’s fine. 

God wants to talk. 

You can fucking talk.

It takes a shaking breath and a sharp pang as you draw blood in your inner cheek, but you pull yourself together and meet God’s gaze. 

His eyes are blue. A cold, almost bottomless blue that’s filled with life, but the same way the Sun is filled with life. Burning and capable of giving it. 

Not actually capable of holding it within itself. 

All you can think it’s that Dean’s eyes have life in them. All that green and luminescent color, buried deep but flashing under the surface whenever you really look at him. And Dean always wraps around you, but it’s like a second layer of skin. Golden. A promise of protection. God is just white and demanding. Bright and blinding, like it should hurt to look at him. Clean in a way that reminds you of the floor and walls of your family’s home. 

Perfect. 

Too perfect. 

Like you couldn’t crash into it and destroy yourself without being punished. Like nothing would wrap around you and keep you safe, and no soothing, deep words would hum in your ear, telling you that you’re alright, and he’s got you. 

God’s voice is sort of high, too. And Dean’s nose is crooked, while God’s is straight, but the crookedness has always suited him. You’ve always wanted to run your finger down the line of it the same way he does to you. Just to feel him. 

But you’re wrapping your arms around your stomach, as God sits across the table from you. 

You don’t want him to touch you at all. 

“Take them off.” You whisper. “I’ll be good.”

God frowns at you. “You don’t have to be good, they’re just a protection. See?” He snaps his fingers, and you swallow a gasp of relief as the binds on your wrists release. “As long as you don’t try to kill me again, I won’t use them. I mean,” he laughs to himself, and the sound skitters over your bones. “It was sexy, and it’ll be a great story one day, but I’d like, y’know. Actually get to tell it.”

You swallow, trying to force your voice to remain even. “What do you want.”

“I told you, to talk-“

“Everyone always just wants to talk.” You’re almost spitting the words, your eyes narrowing on God’s. “What do you want from me?”

God raises his brows, the air hanging with the venom of your tone for a lone, horrible second, then his face splits into a grin. 

“You know, it’s been a really long time since anyone has spoken to me like that, knowing who I am.” His grin grows, all white teeth, and the Silver seems to plummet into your gut. “And you’re a lot prettier when you’re awake. This is going to be really, really good.”

You blink at him, your voice dropping slightly. “Awake?”

“Oh, not like that.” He shakes his head, his tone still so casual. “You know I don’t watch you when you don’t want me to. I respect you. I’ve been watching those, ah- The Hallmark movies? And they’re horrible, but humans are very good at making sloppy romances. I’m trying to study them, to see how human relationships work. I know you were raised with them, and maybe I should’ve had you raised in Heaven, but I like the symmetry of it. I give humans their life and loves, they give me mine.”

His. 

He thinks you’re his.

“And I know you’re not totally on board yet,” God adds, giving you a small smile. “But you will be. I don’t want this to be one of those stories where there’s no chemistry, and you can tell the characters are only together because the writer wants them to be. You have complete and total free will, promise! We’ll have hard times, but we’ll get through them. It’s called a third-act recovery-“

“I know how stories work.” You cut him off with soft words, and he won’t stop smiling at you.

“Of course you do. I’ve been saving all the stuff you like for when you join me, by the way. So we can have some easier stuff to talk about before, well- The everything. And that,” he sits up a little taller, like he’s please with himself. “Is a great transition.”

“Wha-“

“I know what you’re planning.” God says your Enochian name, giving you an almost disappointed look. “Not because I’m in your head. Again, total free will, but because sweet little Castiel is very worried about you. And he’s stopped praying to me lately, but I can still hear him. Especially when he’s in my garden, talking to my gardener.”

You take a deep breath, and it’s getting really hard to keep your voice properly steady. “So you don’t want me to go through with it.”

God shakes his head. “No. Not really. I just want to tell you that if it goes wrong, I’m not helping you. I sort of can’t, as long as you’re fighting me.”

“Fighting you-“

“The self-harm and starvation? Repressing yourself until your soul literally splits in half? Then shoving down all the pain you feel about Jo’s death so aggressively you can’t even control yourself? Not exactly the healthiest approach.”

You scowl. “If you’re here to tell me to go to love myself or some shit-“

“Oh, no.” He laughs again. “I’m talking about how you don’t want to be a part of this. Heaven, Hell, all the power you were born into. And you have to decides you want it yourself, or it really won’t mean anything. Again, I want you to want it. Does that make sense?”

“What if I don’t want it?” You’re speaking before you can stop yourself. “What if I like just being human?”

God just waves you off. “Sure you do now. But once you’re mine, nothing will hurt anymore. You’ll never have to worry about losing me, either. And I’m willing to wait forever, for you to come around, but you have to learn this lesson yourself.”

You can still breathe. You’re still yourself. But your fingers are curling around you knife, your hand under the table, and God seems to lost in his own monologue to notice. Maybe if you’re fast enough. Maybe if you let it all rip out, and-

“I’ve heard women don’t like you to do things for them.” He sighs, giving you an almost sad look. “But I do love you. And I want to help you. So I’m giving you a chance to back out, hit eject now. But it’s only a one-time offer. For both of us. It’ll be easier like this.”

“Like-“ You take a deep breath, his words banging around in your skull.

I do love you.

It’s in a horrible, twisted harmony with Dean’s voice. Baby. You know I love you, baby.

It’s sort of hard to think.

“Like what.” You manage to push out, and God shrugs.

“You and me. Together.”

No. One of your hands flies to your throat on an old instinct as the Silver rushes and roars, and no. “You- you said you weren’t going to take me-“

“Oh, I’m not.” He’s looking at you like he can’t even understand why you’d possibly react like this. “I’m offering you the change to run away with me. Tonight. If you got through with this, your little plan, you’ll be changing too much. Everything will be…” He sighs, and shakes his head. “A lot harder.”

“I-“

“Wait,” he holds his hand up, and your protests die in your throat. “Let me finish. You come with me, I’ll wipe everyone. Make things the way they should’ve been. But once we get past this, there’s no going back. I think.” He grins at you again, and it’s starting to make you want to claw out your eyes. “I’ve never done this before. It’s kind of exciting. But I just don’t want you to get upset when you break your favorite toys.”

You swallow, your words barely audible over the pounding of the Silver in your ears. “I- Don’t have toys.”

“Right, sorry. You’re not there yet. I meant Sam and Dean.”

Sam and Dean. 

You’re not going to break them. You’re doing this to help them, to save them, to make up for all the times you’ve made things worse-

“Speaking of Sam and Dean, I think they’re coming now.” God gives you one last smile, and he’s right. You can smell cinnamon. “I hope you make the right choice, but I’ll support you no matter what. You know I’m listening. Just call me, before midnight, and I’ll be there.”

You’re not going to call him. It’s not even a choice, it just is. You won’t fucking leave Dean. And if you are running, it’s not into the arms of fucking God. You’d rather drown yourself, or fall to the deepest pits of hell, because at least then you’d be all yours. And you want to spit and sneer that at him, but the white flares one last time, and then he’s gone. 

Barely a split second later, Sam and Dean round the corner. 

“Do you smell something?” Sam frowns around the room as Dean walks to your side with a wide grin. “It’s sort of like, um, batteries?”

“Batteries don’t smell like anything, Sammy.” Dean stops at your chair, passing you a chocolate bar with a small frown. 

“Yeah, they do, they smell like iron. And burning things.”

“Sammy, that’s-“ Dean sniffs the air, his frown deepening. “Huh.”

“Right?” Sam looks around the library, like he’s expecting something to jump out from behind the shelves. “It’s batteries-“

“It’s not batteries, bitch.” Dean glances down at you, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Princess, you eat any, uh- Fruit?”

You just stare at him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that you love him, that God had just tried to ask you to run away with him, that you’re planning something insane, that you’re going to make everything worse-“

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean frowns down at you, big, careful hands frame your face, and your hands fly up to cling to his wrists. “Can you, uh- I need you to say something-“

“I’m okay.” You whisper, and his frown deepens, his fingers trailing slightly over your brow.

“You know you can tell me anything.” His voice is lowered, and Sam’s seems to be busying himself with staring at books. “I’m here, I’ve got you-“

“I know you do.” You give him a small smile, and the worry in his gaze doesn’t waver for a second. “Did you get all the stuff?”

Dean stares at you, and for a second you think he’s going to push it, but Sam clears his throat first. “Yeah, we got it. Do you need us to do anything else-“

You shake your head, trying to ignore the intensity of Dean’s gaze. “No, once we’re back home I’ll take care of it.”

“I can help.” Dean grunts, and you give him a flat look.

“It’s your birthday, De. You’re not doing shit.”

“What if I want to help-“

“No.” You hold his glare, and his lips slowly curl into a teasing grin. 

“Bossy.”

“I’m gonna stab you-“

“Ah. Not until my birthday’s over.”

“Then sleep with one eye open, Winchester-“

“Hey, guys?” Sam cuts in, frowning between you and Dean. “Can you guys do, uh- That later? And not in front of me?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “We’re just freakin’ talking-“

“It’s not just talking, Dean, it’s foreplay.” Sam scoffs. “Actually, it’s worse than foreplay, because at least that would actually in sex instead of,” he makes a loose gesture between you and Dean. “This.”

You can feel the flush on your cheeks, and it doesn’t help that Dean isn’t pushing you away at the suggestion. He might be holding you closer. Moving his body in front of yours, blocking you from Sam—wide eyed and panicked, obviously realizing what he just said—as if he’s worried about your fucking modesty or something. 

“Sam.” Dean’s voice is almost a growl, and you can picture his set jaw and narrowed gaze. “Shut your face, or get shot.”

“Sorry.” Sam mumbles, and Dean grunts.

“You’re lucky I don’t tell Bobby you said that.”

You lean around Dean to see Sam shaking his head frantically. “Dean, c’mon, don’t- He’ll kill me-“

“I know.” Dean twists his arms slightly, palm spread, and you take his hand without thought. 

He glances down, and you give him a small smile. 

It doesn’t matter if you’re imagining the softening of his gaze. He’s here. Even knowing everything about you, having to deal with all your freak outs, Dean’s still holding your hand and grinning at you. Letting you smile back, and squeezing his hand once, just to make sure he’s feeling something like it. 

The light, dizzy feeling that comes with his proximity. The warmth in your core when he helps you to your feet and keeps your hands tangled together. Not the inescapable, magnetic pull that’s always told you to stay near him, with him, next to him. 

Not love, either. That might be too much to ask for. 

But just something like it. Something that might give you a chance—even if God returns and takes back all his letting you come to him bullshit in the morning—for you to kiss him just one more time. 

Because you’d kissed. 

Two more times. 

And Sam’s teasing isn’t anything new, but that had a sharper edge than usual. Like he knows—really knows something you don’t quite fully believe yourself—that there might be a chance.

It’s all you can think about, watching Dean shuffle around the kitchen as you and Bobby cook.

There could be a chance.

“Dean,” Bobby grunts, not looking up from his carrots. “Get outta the kitchen.”

“It’s my birthday, Bobby, I can be wherever the hell I want-“

“Not in here.”

“C’mon, Bobby-“ Dean’s words cut off, and you glance up again to see him starting at the cutting broad. “Carrots?!”

You can hear Bobby’s sigh from across the room. “They’re good for ya, Dean-“

“I don’t want shit that’s good for me-“

“Dean.” You interrupt him with a firm look, and his mouth snaps shut. “I’m making you cake and pie. You’re going to eat your carrots.”

He stands up straight, a smirk covering his face, and before you know what’s happening you’re pinned against the counter, and Dean is incredibly close to your face. 

It must be the lighting, or your stupid soul vision, but he’s glowing. There’s his usual Gold, the light off his slight tan—it’s January, how the hell does he have a tan—and all the little bits of blond in his hair that you want to touch. You just want to touch him, to check that he’s real, to kiss his smug expression and hear him groan your name again, like maybe he’s just as desperate to have you as you are for him. You want to maybe drown in him. Have his Gold painted all over you, and breathe so easily because his eyes are full of life. They’re the prettiest shade of green in the world, and they’re dancing with amusement at your slack expression, and you never want him to stop looking at you like that. 

Like he’s happy, and it’s only because you’re there. 

“What kinda pie you makin’ me, Princess?”

You swallow, your voice a little breathy. “Cherry.”

His grin widens. “That’s my favorite-“

“I- I know, De-“

“And I get pie and cake.”

“Only if you eat your carrots.” You whisper, and he shrugs.

“Fine. But you gotta eat everything I eat.”

You frown. “Dean-“

“Nope. I eat something, you eat the same.”

“I’m going to eat-“

“Yeah, you are. Everything I eat.”

“Dean-“

He drawls your name back with a wide, boyish grin, and you haven’t seen that expression on him in so long. Maybe since before Hell, and if after, not this wide. This relaxed. Making the Spiderweb feel like almost a supernova, with so many colors and so much color and heat. One of Dean’s hands is holding your hips, and it’s sparking so much heat-

“Dean.” Bobby grunts. “Out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” Dean pushes back like nothing happened at all, speaking to you like you weren’t seconds from jumping him right in front of Bobby. “If you guys need anything-“

“We’ll make Sam do it. Out.”

Dean rolls his eyes, whispering in your ear and making a small shiver run up your spine. “He’s grumpy.”

You don’t get a chance to respond—you’re not sure you remember how to speak—before Dean’s kissing your cheek, and then he’s gone.

And you get—as you sway slightly and reach up to touch your cheek, right where Dean’s lips had sloppily and easily pressed against it—why Sam has upped his teasing game. 

Something’s flipped in Dean, since the kisses.

He hasn’t blatantly flirted with you like this since you met him. As if there aren’t a million obstacles in your way and the world isn’t ending as you speak. As if this night isn’t a single island in the ocean, and you don’t have a long way to go before any of you see land again.

But Dean’s flirting with you. 

You think. 

He’s kissed the top of your head before. And he’s held your hand before. He calls you princess all the time, as if it’s a second name. He also whispers in your ear all the time, because he’s your best friend and that’s what friends do-

Jo would say she’s his friend too. That he doesn’t do that with her. And she and Sam are friends, but Sam’s never pinned her to a counter. Sam’s never held her hand, either-

Oh. 

Oh.

Fuck.

Bobby clears his throat and you blink down at him. “You alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah?” That shouldn’t sound like a question. “Yeah. I, um- Yeah.”

Bobby gives you an unimpressed look. “I’ve been askin’ you to grab the salt for a damn minute, and you’ve just been standin’ there. Try again.”

“I-“ You swallow, setting down the bowl of your batter carefully. It would be really nice, not to have this conversation with Bobby right now. Maybe ever. 

You’d gotten an awkward show of how to put a condom on a banana, when you were sixteen. And there had been a period, before the pain and White and Darkness had started, where Bobby had tried to send you elementary and middle school, under a fake name. There had been a few kids who’d made you feel fuzzy, and you’d told Bobby all about them, and he’d grumbled something about kids and their crushes. But then there had been Dean, no one else, and all of Bobby’s awkward attempts to tell you that he’s okay with it, and just wants you to be happy. 

But you hadn’t counted those as real. They’d been just like Sam and Jo’s teasing, because there might have been a ring of truth to it, but everything else was too complicated.

But there’s a chance.

Bobby grunts your name and you shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach. 

“Bobby?” You speak slowly, not wanting to meet his gaze. “When you met your wife, how did you know?”

He frowns at you. “Know?”

“That it was-“ You take a deep breath. “That it was something.”

There’s a long pause, and Bobby sighs your name. “I ain’t sure what to tell you. I wish I could say somethin’ like fireworks, but it just was. Nothin’ big, nothin’ special. She was pretty, and I was a little drunk, so I took the jump and asked ‘er out. Then we built from there.”

You frown at the floor. It had been something special with Dean. It hadn’t been fireworks, but just fucking gravity. A pull, then a strange, dizzying feeling close to euphoria, making your whole-body light up. Then a feeling of needing to know him. But maybe you’d just been young, and you’d seen the most beautiful man alive, and lost your fucking mind-

“John used to tell me ‘bout when he knew for Mary.” Bobby says, and your gaze shoots up to find him watching you carefully. “He said he just looked at her one day and got those fireworks. And they mighta been ordained for heaven or whatever shit Cas said, but fireworks don’t last. I’d gotten fireworks with plenty of ladies, before Karen. But with her, it always… more. Felt like lookin’ at the stars. When I decided to marry ‘er, it wasn’t cause of some movie like, time slowin’ musical bullshit moment. It was ‘cause I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.”

You swallow a lump in your throat, blinking sudden tears out of your eyes. “Bobby, I- I don’t know-“

“You know.” Bobby shrugs, giving you a gentle smile, and you shake your head.

“But- It’s-“ You take a shaking breath, sinking down to the floor. “It is the fireworks. And it’s where I’m supposed to be, but it can’t be ordained by Heaven and- It just- It feels-“ You wipe your tears with your palm, and Bobby passes you a cloth. He’s wheeled over to your side, and you haven’t felt this much smaller than him in a while. Like really just a kid. And his hand rests on your shoulder as you take deep breaths, trying to find an end to your sentence. 

“It doesn’t have to be anythin’ big.” Bobby mutters, low enough that you almost don’t hear it. “All you gotta do is throw that boy a bone, and he’ll eat out of your hand.”

You shake your head, sniffing slightly. “That’s a little dramatic-“

“Uh huh. When was the last time he said no to you?”

Fuck. “Bobby-“

“It’s his birthday,” Bobby sighs your name, and you look up to see him frowning at the air. “Like I said, don’t gotta marry ‘im right now. Whatever you can manage, long as you’re both happy.”

Long as you’re both happy. 

Dean deserves being happy with anyone but you.

But you’ve always wanted it to be you. For there to be another life where you’re still doing this—maybe not crying on the floor until you’re ready to get up, but making Dean a birthday dinner—and there are not monsters in the shadows or wars on the horizon. For you always to be the one at Dean’s side.

Just like now, getting to smile at him as he drops into his seat and bumps your knees together. And you’re not going break it or infect it. Not going to be the reason it breaks, because it’s your whole life, and nothing about that is complicated. 

Maybe—in that life—you have to pay a mortgage and student loans, and maybe sometimes you fight with Dean about stupid things, but nobody dies. There’s not a sense of one night, and one night only, as you, Dean, Sam, Cas, and Bobby eat and laugh and joke.

There’s no threat of God, wrapped around your neck like a noose set to yank you up without warning, so when Sam brings out the pie and cake—he has the biggest hands, and can walk—you kiss Dean before he blows out his candles. 

You don’t kiss him.

Not here, or now. But you sing him happy birthday, and watch his eyes widen on yours as his lips part, and you want to kiss him here. With the soft light of the candles flickering over his face, and that same peaceful look washed over his features, mixing with one of almost awe. 

You love him. And if it can only ever be like this—the painful, long, complicated way—you’ll be okay with that. It would be almost impossible not love him, which is why you’ve never been able to fault that faceless woman in your head. The one who someday comes along and takes Dean away from you.

But you’re the one who’s going to be taken away. 

And right now, you’re the one he’s looking at. The one he’s giving fireworks, and keeping his thigh pressed against, and the one who belongs at his side.

So even if you only get one of these moments every ten years, you’ll keep loving Dean like it’s written into the fabric of your soul. It’s impossibly easy. 

And Bobby’s right. It’s the only thing you’ve ever really known. 

The rest of the night is just about Dean. Eating the cake and pie—Dean hadn’t lied, he’s refusing to take bites unless you take them first, and you’re either going to punch him in the gut or climb on his lap at the table and see what happens—then playing poker. You lose, horribly, and very fast, but Dean lets you hang over his shoulder and explains all his hands to you before he plays them. 

“How are you this bad at poker, Princess.” He grins at you as Sam takes another million years to decide what he’s doing. “I know you don’t hustle, but that was- Real bad.”

“I’m bad at math,” you mumble, and Dean gives you an amused look. 

“You make spreadsheets for fun.”

“That’s not the same,” Sam frowns up from his cards. “That’s data organization. I do it.”

“And you’re good at math, Sammy-“

“That’s correlation, not causation-“

“I don’t know what the fuck that means-“

Dean cuts himself off as you whisper in his ear. “Correlation is two data points that move together, but it’s just a coincidence. Causation is when two data points are the same because one is caused by the other.”

“Ah.” Dean nods slowly, and twists to give you a grin. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You beam at him, Sam makes a gagging sound, and Bobby whacks him for taking a million years to make his move. 

After the poker game ends—Cas winning by a mile, shocking Dean and Bobby but pretty unsurprising considering neither of them, at any point, knew what Cas was going to do next—there’s a quick exchange of presents, and you try not to look too lovingly at Dean while he opens them. It can’t be written on your face. You still have rules, and you still can’t tell him or indulge or make it about you either—this won’t be about you, if you open the door a crack and Dean is the one who breaks it down—and you can’t show it on your face. 

But it’s hard, when he gives Cas a tight, sudden hug for the rare car parts he’d found during his God-travels, or Bobby gets the same treatment when he shows Dean the upgraded TV in the living room. Or when he grins at Sam for the joke toy gun, then crushes him in another hug for the rare jerky and Batarang shaped knives he found online. 

He looks so happy. And he’s retreating to your room, as the night comes to an end. Because he’s not yours, but fuck, he’s something close to it. And that’s more than you’ve ever dared to hope for. 

You never want to let it go.

“These are cool,” you hum, focusing on the Batarang spinning in your hand and trying really hard not to think about shirtless Dean, washing his face in the bathroom. “Do you know where Sam found them?”

“You know Princess, you can just have them.” Dean laughs, and you look up to find him walking over to where you’re cross legged on the bed, still not wearing a shirt. 

You want to touch him. All the slopes and panes of his chest, every scar, the lines of his tattoo and then the muscles of his back, and he’s so Golden and if you pressed your face into his stomach, it would be soft and safe.

“They’re a gift,” you manage to whisper, blinking up at him. “I can’t take them, De-“

“You don’t have to,” he shrugs, dropping on the edge of the mattress. “But whenever you wanna use them, they’re there.” He pauses. “Is it rude if I tell you I really wanna see what you got me?”

You let out a soft laugh. “No, it’s not. And maybe I didn’t get you anything-“

“Don’t try to lie, sweetheart. I’ll know.” He leans forward, and you can feel the heat from his body. “And you have to show me. It’s my birthday.”

You give him a flat look. “For thirty more minutes.”

“And I’m gonna milk that half hour like you can’t believe. C’mon, please?” he gives you a dramatic, pleading expression, and you can’t stop your giggle. “You’re not supposed to laugh-“

“Sorry.” You grin at him, and he just rolls his eyes. “You want your presents?”

He blinks at you. “Presents?”

You nod, and reach over to the drawer of your bedside table. “You’re not allowed to say anything until I give you all of it. Okay?”

Dean doesn’t respond, and when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Inches away and grinning at you, not saying a single word.

You roll your eyes, his grin grows, and you shove him slightly so you can sit back up. 

“I got you an iPod.” You say, holding out each item as you speak. “You need to get into the 21st century, Deano. But, I also got you a bulk pack of blank mixtapes because I know you won’t. And, um-“ You reach under the bed, not allowing your gaze to linger on his face for too long. “I also got you a cowboy hat, and I’ll watch one whole Clint Eastwood movie with you, and I promise not to say anything when it’s stupid.” You give him a small smile, carefully placing the cowboy hat on his brow, and tipping it up when it falls slightly forward. “Happy Birthday, Dean.”

I love you. 

It’s all you can think, as he stares at you. Not saying a single word, but not kicking you out either, and you can’t really read his expression. Can’t figure out what he’s thinking, if you’re about to lose him, if he’s going to grab you into one of those hugs, if maybe, you get to crash into him and feel it more than any possible pain-

Dean reaches up slowly, tucks a little hair behind your ear with a feather-light touch, and you blink at him.

“Do you like them?” You ask, trying not to let your voice waver, and he nods. 

“They’re awesome,” he mutters your name, and his eyes look slightly glassed over. His hand is still lingering on your face. “You’re awesome, Princess. These are- Really fucking awesome.”

You give him a nervous smile. “Did I break you?”

“No.”

“Then-“

He sets the cowboy hat off to the side and leans forward, but doesn’t kiss you. Dean’s brow just falls to yours as he cradles your face in his hands, and you’re really not sure what’s happening. 

“De.” You whisper, carefully dragging one of his hands into yours. “Are you okay?”

He nods, but his grip on you only tightens.

“Dean-“

“I don’t wanna fight.” He mutters, and you frown. 

“We’re not going to fight-“

“Yeah, we are. I’m gonna tell you, and you’re gonna get pissed-“

“No, I’m not-“

“Princess-“

“I’m not your Dad.” You say softly, and he lets out a shaking breath. “I know we fight but I- I’d never get mad at you for not liking something, or feeling something, or-“

“Being selfish?”

“You’re not selfish, Dean.”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I am.”

“Dean-“

“I asked Death.” He mutters, breath ghosting over your lips, and you still in his touch. “Asked him if you had a way out, from that God bullshit. And Hell, if he’d told me all I had to do was trade you for someone else or do a fuckin’ volcano sacrifice- Son of a bitch, I would’ve done it. Wouldn’t have hesitated, either. Even if it ruined some poor assholes life, losing his girl so I could keep mine.”

His. 

His.

“De-“

“But he said no.” Dean’s voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and when he pulls you a little forward, you don’t fight him. “That you are the Bride of God, and there’s nothin’ I can do about it. Fucking- I don’t know how the hell you did it.”

You frown. “Did with?”

“Didn’t fucking kill someone.” He rasps. “When you knew you were gonna lose me. Hell, I’m not even losing you and I- Shit-“ 

Dean leans back, scanning over your face with an intensity you can feel lighting up the Spiderweb, and you just hold his gaze.

“I need you, baby.” He mutters, and your fingers curl on his hands. “You’re my best friend, and I need you. And I don’t care if it makes me selfish, if God needs a wife he can take anyone else, but he can’t take you.”

Baby.

I need you, baby.

Again, you don’t think about it. You’ve never had to think about it with Dean. He moves, so you move. 

And when you crash up into him, your lips slamming against each other like you’re trying to fuse together, you know it’s not going to go there. Not tonight. Dean can pull you fully into his lap and you can wrap your arms around his neck, but that’s as close as you’ll get. The bare skin of your thigh brushing his naked abdomen, as you try to climb up his chest. His hand tangling in your hair.

You can’t do more. Not when you can’t feel God watching, but some pain lingers on your wrists, and the deep, frozen fear that he’ll just take you.

That you’ll tell Dean the thing you’re never allowed to say—instead of just moaning his name down his throat or squeezing his hand three times—and God will rip you away. Or worse, that Dean will try to fuck you, and you’ll vanish from his hands. 

But this can be enough. It’s Dean.

So it’s always enough.

A high whine leaves your throat as he angles his mouth over yours, deepening the kiss until it’s all just Gold and a high feeling brimming under your skin and rising in your chest. Dean’s hands are rough but careful as they start to roam under your shirt, lighting small trails of fire on your skin, and he groans your name when your nails sink into his shoulders.

The sound sends an ache of warmth between your thighs, and you start to grind down, trying to chase some friction as your breath hitches and your mouth falls wide open for Dean to take, you just want him to take you and touch you, because there’s no pain when his tongue is tangled in yours and his erection is pressed right over your core-

Dean grabs your hips, kissing the tip of your nose and rubbing his hands soothingly, and slows your pace. 

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, finger trailing up your spine and making you shake in his arms. “I’ve got you.”

He’s got you.

You melt into him with a happy sigh, and Dean’s got you.

You let him take the lead—you’d let him lead you anywhere, and apparently you can’t be trusted to control yourself when you can feel every flex of his muscles—and he turns the kiss slow. Not pushing, not demanding, just rolling you carefully onto your back, squeezing the skin of your hips and grinning at your soft sigh.

It’s more than the fireworks. It’s enough heat to maybe rewire a universe. But it’s also so gentle, the way he’s touching you and kissing you like he’s just as afraid as you are, that you’re going to vanish. 

But most of all, when Dean presses a final, sweet kiss on your swollen lips and rolls onto his side, keeping you pressed to his chest, it’s comfortable. Easy. The Spiderweb singing in time with the drum of his heart, and his hands pressed into your skin in a possessive way that might leave a brand. 

You hope it does. Or that the Earth grows around you both, and nothing ever tries to take you away from him. 

Because this, here, in Dean’s arms with the taste of him on your tongue, and your legs tangled together, is right where you belong.

——————

Dean’s caught. Suspended. Trapped like a damn animal, unable to even gnaw its own leg off.

The two people that he loves the most are trying to kill him. They’re both genius, unmovable, determined idiots that he’d lay down his life for in a heartbeat, even though they both keep being insane.

Sam had cornered him last night, while She and Bobby had been in the library. Sat across from Dean at the table with a firm expression, dead quiet until Dean had raised his brows.

You got something you wanna tell me, Sammy?”

Sam had sighed—as if he hadn’t been the one who cornered Dean—and spoken with a heavy tone that set a stone in Dean’s gut. “We need to move soon. On Lucifer.”

Dean’s jaw had clenched. “Yeah, man, I know-“

“And we’re doing my plan.”

The fucking plan. The stupid fucking plan that was going to make him lose Sammy forever, that Death had made him promise to go through with. “Sam-“

“There’s no other way-“

“We’ll do it.”

Sam had blinked at him. “We will?”

Dean had nodded, staring at his beer bottle on the table. “Yeah. No other way, right?”

“Right.” Sam had stared at him for a long moment, before clearing his throat. “So, um- I wanted to talk to you about after. When I’m…” he’d swallowed, and Dean’s fists had clenched. 

That wasn’t the Sam that hunted at his side and was addicted to demon blood and had all the same nightmares, but just strangled them in silence and kept moving. 

Across the table from him was Sammy. The little kid who had been afraid of the dark and cried when he saw clowns. The one who had gotten lost in a grocery store when they were kids and hugged Dean first when they found him. And Dean goddamn knew that Sam didn’t want to do this either. Just like he knew that the kid was a stubborn bitch, and nothing Dean could say would make them turn back now. 

“When I’m not here,” Sam muttered, and Dean might have been about to break the bottle. “What you do after.”

Dean had frowned. “The hell you mean what I do-“

“I know you, Dean.” Sam had sighed. “You’re going to want to try and bring me back, but if I come back, Lucifer comes back with me. And I- I don’t want you to have the stupid hunter death. You deserve better than that.”

That had pulled a dry, humorless laugh out of Dean’s throat. “No, I-“

“It’s not up to you.” Sam had cut him off, his eyes flicking in the direction of the kitchen, and something to the right of Dean’s heart had stuttered. “You know it’s there, Dean. I know you’re never going to be to- Y’know. With anyone else. And I- I’d feel better if I knew you guys would have each other-“

“We do have each other.” 

“That’s not what I mean, dude.” Sam had given him a tightlipped smile. “I know she’s got her own thing with, uh- God-“

“I don’t give a fuck about that.” Dean had grunted. “She might not be ready, Sam. And I’m not gonna-“

“Tell a girl that you have a crush on her?” Sam had raised his brows. “That kind of sounds like me, Dean, not you.”

Dean’s eyes had narrowed, and Sam had just held his gaze casually, his tone bored. 

“You could take another ten years to settle down. But I want you to stay with her, Dean. Try to stop hunting, don’t try to bring me back, and-“ Sam had sighed. “I don’t know, man. Have a life.”

“And you just-“ Dean had scowled, shaking his head. “Want us to leave you in there? The hell we’re just gonna freakin’ abandon you-“

“You’re not abandoning me, Dean.” Sam had given him a sad smile. “You’re saving the world, then resting. If not for me, for her.”

For Her.

Sam hadn’t needed to say what he meant.

That, if there was anyone to be worried about, it was Her.

Dean wanted it. God, he fucking wanted it. He’d never seen anything clearer than those fantasies in his head, where he woke up next to Her and got to kiss her good morning, and they showered together. Then he made her breakfast and she made him lunch and they ordered take out for dinner. He’d flip Her over on the couch and kiss down Her body, and She’d give him that blinding smile in the dark. Maybe he’d have a picture of Her in his wallet, and the assholes at his normal, tax-paying job would tease him about saying my girl all the time, but then they’d meet Her, and understand. 

If they to be in Her orbit, they’d never shut up about it either. Not when all the world moved for Her, but She only moved to Dean.

And he cared about the Bride of God thing. He’d been lying through his teeth to Sammy, because he knew he was going to lose Her. He’d always known, but now it wasn’t just a cold fear in his ribs, making his breathing sort of shallow. It was just the truth. Sort of gospel, because it had been told by God. And when Her time came, if She didn’t want to go, he’d still fight to keep Her. And he’d end up dead—it was God—but at least he would’ve died in Her name. 

The promise to Sam was the easiest one he’d even make. It was going to be real damn easy to stay with Her, when this was done. To maybe crack when he thought of Sammy, but then just hold Her until the pain eased a little. If he only got to have Her for a week, a month, a year, a decade, he wanted to have Her. To love Her well enough that when God came, She’d spend the rest of time knowing that Dean had loved Her. And he’d loved Her right, and She’d never wanted for anything as long as She’d been in his arms. 

He hadn’t fucked Her, on his birthday. He wanted to do it right. Not in a storm of confusing pain his chest, warmth in his gut, and a high in his head from how She’d been on his lap and kissing him like She was starved. Gentle. Romantic. Like in a telenovela or drama show, where someone did a big, sweeping gesture, and the other person realized that they were deeply in love, and then they fucked on rose petals. 

In the moment, with Her fast asleep in his arms and a tiny little bruise Dean had put on Her neck, it had felt like the right call.

But he should’ve known better. Sammy was right, Dean wasn’t the one to be worried about. It would fucking suck, and he might never sleep well again, but this was Sam’s last wish. And Dean had always wanted to grow roots with Her, and put up a white fence that She’d carve with Enochian, and hug Her from behind while they made apple pies for a dumb bake sale. 

She was the one who never stopped running. Who was going to want to do something insane to try and get Sammy back.

Hell, She already was trying to do something insane. 

They’d been hunting demon blood for Sammy, and She’d tipped Her head back on the Impala’s bench as they drove back to Bobby’s. Looked at Dean under fluttering lashes and with pouted lips, and his eyes had narrowed. That was Her expression when She wanted something. 

“Deano.” She’d said softly, and his grip had tightened on the wheel. “Can you pull over, please?”

“No.”

“Dean-“

“Whatever you want, ask me while I’m driving.”

She’d sighed. “I don’t want you to crash.”

Son of a fucking bitch, things could never just be simple and easy. Something in the universe had to be out to fucking get him, because he’d pulled the car off to the side of the road, and She’d given him a sweet, full-lipped smile, and he’d known this wasn’t going to end with anything good. 

“Remember how I completely and totally forgave you for going to see Death behind my back?”

Dean had given Her a flat look. “Princess-“

“This is like that. You’re gonna be mad at me, and I- I’m sorry, but-“ She’d taken a shuddering breath, and given him a nervous look. “We can kiss again, if that helps?”

It wasn’t fair how She was so damn adorable. How that would help, but She couldn’t know that Dean would probably let her get away with anything if She rewarded him with the right touches. If he had to carry Her out of playing in oncoming traffic, but got to make Her scream his name and arch off the bed, he’d never be capable of being really mad at Her. 

She liked to test him, though. Liked to see just how much She could bring out of him—the answer was all of it, Dean was never more than when he was with Her—and, just like Sammy, goddamn kill him.  

He’d muttered Her name, slinging his arm around the back of the bench and tipping Her face up to hold his gaze, and She’d let out a long, soft breath. 

“Please don’t be mad.” She’d mumbled, and before Dean could respond, She was rambling. “This isn’t just my idea, it’s Cas’ too. I mean, it was my idea, but he helped. He found the apples, and he- He backed me up-“

“Princess-“

“Remember how I was able to pull Zachariah out of his vessel?” She’d said nervously, and Dean froze. “And, um, I almost did it with Raphael too? I- I think I can just toss Lucifer and Michael in the cage.”

Dean had stared at Her for a long moment, unable to fully form a thought, his own voice sounding a million miles away. “You think.”

“Yeah.” She’d whispered, Her eyes shining on his. “But, um- You’re not going to like how.”

That was damn right. Dean fucking hated how. And he’d fought with Her about it. Told Her it was insane, to fake-join Lucifer, to take magic steroids, to try and grab archangels-

“Dean.” She’d grabbed both his hands, pushing up on Her knee under her body, and it didn’t seem like a fair fight. She looked heavenly in the morning mist and light, and She smelled like fruit and sugar and god-

“No. It’s goddamn bonkers, Princess.”

She gave him a small smile. “Bonkers?”

“No.” He’d pointed an accusing finger at Her, and her smile had grown. “You can’t try and joke me out of this one, sweetheart, there’s no way in hell you’re doing this.”

“Please.” She’d scooted closer, and he’d just stared at Her, a little enchanted like an idiot. Dad had been right. She was dangerous, and She might make Dean an idiot. 

But he could never hate Her, either. It wasn’t Her fault Dean liked falling under her spell, or dreamt about Her drowning him in all Her fruit and sugar and light.

“I’ll be okay, De.” She’d whispered, Her siren-like voice calling him down, down, down- “Sam will be okay, too, I just need to catch Lucifer off guard-“

“So we throw him a surprise party.” He’d grunted, and She smiled at him. The real, sweet smile that had always sort of melted him, because She didn’t really give it to anyone else.

“Dean.” She’d hummed, squeezing his hand three time. Fine. Everything was fine. “Please. I can’t do it without you.”

Fuck. He’d agreed. He was a weak willed, selfish asshole that wanted Her to love him and never look anywhere else for things she needed. And this could go wrong. This could, so goddamn easily, go a million ways wrong. Dean could think of about fifty off the top of his head.

But he’d always just been a weapon. A blood and dirt-rusted blade for the people he loved to wield. And apparently being that meant sitting awkwardly with Bobby while Sammy downed gallons of demon blood in the panic room, and She kept him company because She’d be the safest. 

He and Bobby hadn’t really spoken. They’d played a card game and glanced at the stairs to the basement, waiting for Her to come up and tell them that they were ready to go. The original plan had just been turn themselves over to demons, but She’d rolled Her eyes like that was insane and insisted on using Her tracking spell. 

And now, with Sam silent in the passenger’s seat, Her curled up in the back seat—slumped against a fully alert Cas, picking at Her fingers again, making Dean want to pull over and make Her stop, but they didn’t have enough time—and another bone guiding Dean on the dash, they were at the end. 

This was it. She’d told him that She had that apple thing in Her jacket, and that She’d be fine. Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Her. And if Sam didn’t get a hold on Lucifer, she wanted to go for Michael, too. 

Of course She did. 

Because She and Sam were trying to fucking kill him. 

Dean hated this. He’d never really hated anything more. He’d been staring at Death’s ring for hours last night, sitting up on the headboard and She’d been curled into his side, and hadn’t been sure it was worth it. The world. He was a selfish fucking asshole, and She might not be able to see it, but Dad had. Dad had known him better than anyone. He’d told Dean that the hard thing was the right thing, and that he just wanted Dean to be strong enough to do the right thing.

This didn’t fucking feel like the right thing. Letting the world fucking burn didn’t feel like the right thing either. The right thing maybe felt like using Death’s ring to kill God, because it was possible. Death had said God would die, and there wasn’t any damn reason it didn’t have to be now. Dean could use it to make God talk his asshole sons down from ending the world, then kill the douchebag anyway, so She never had to go. 

Selfish. 

This fucking sucked. And Sammy didn’t know about Her plan, and Bobby didn’t know Her plan—goddamnit, Bobby was finally going to shoot him—and Dean knew She was powerful or whatever, but fuck, She couldn’t just do this alone. She’d always told Dean she needed him, for when She fell apart or faltered and he could be Her weapon, carving them to the end. 

But they were at the end. And unless this went perfectly, Dean wouldn’t be allowed to go with Her. If something went wrong, he’d still lose one of them. 

That was the real fear, he knew. The cold, uncertain dread settled back in the cavity of his chest, splitting that pit more and more open until it was a canyon of just fucking empty dread. 

He didn’t know who he was going to lose. And there was a dangerous light of hope deep in the pit—that he’d get to keep them both—but it was just going make this so much fucking worse. 

“He’s in there.” Dean muttered, frowning at the abandoned building the Bone was angled towards. “Showtime.”

She and Cas exchanged at look that Dean could see in the rearview mirror, but went entirely unnoticed by Sam.

“Do I just… walk in and tell him?”

“Ideally, yes.” Cas muttered. “And Dean-“

“Got the rings.” He muttered, his hand sliding into his jacket. “And the incantation.”

Cas nodded, and Dean wanted to roar that this a mistake, all of this was a mistake, something was going to go wrong, and they needed to turn back now, but the brake lines had been cut. 

They walked into the house, Cas waiting the car—She and Cas exchanged a strange look before they separated, making Dean’s stomach churn—and there was no way out. 

Lucifer was waiting for them, arms spread wide and a manic grin on his face. His burnt, rotting, ugly face, the substitute vessel already falling apart. Dean wasn’t sure if the bile in his throat was from the sight of the motherfucker, or just what he knew was about to happen. 

“Sammy! And Dean, and,” his grin fell to Her, and shooting his smug face wouldn’t do anything, but Dean really wanted to. “Hi, doll. I heard about your talk with Mikey. He really can’t charm a lady, can he? You finally realize that I’ve got the better deal?”

She didn’t response, just glancing to Sam, and Lucifer sighed. 

“Guys, this is a safe space. We can all talk about our feelings, before I climb into Sam and Sam tries to jump us both to hell.”

The room fell dead silent, Lucifer grinning at them with an amused expression, and Dean’s blood curled in his body. He knew. The son of a bitch knew, of course he knew, Dean didn’t have a goddamn clue why they’d even fucking bothered because now he was going to lose Sammy-

“Here, I’ll start. Sam,” Lucifer put on a simpering, wounded expression. “While I am hurt that you’d try to do that to me, I forgive you. I would still love to hop in for a ride, though. And if you get the reigns, hey! Fair game! I mean, I will torture you for eternity for putting back there,” he spat the word, and Sam paled. “But right now? Let’s fucking dance, baby.”

No. This wasn’t going to end well, and Dean glanced down to see Her braced and ready, and no-

“Ready, Sammy.” Lucifer spread his arms wide. “What’d you say? Ready to take on the world?”

No-

“Okay.” Sam stood a little taller, but her still just looked like a kid- “Yes.”

Dean lurched forward. This couldn’t happen. Lucifer had the jump on them, so he didn’t give a fuck about cut brake, they had to go-

“Dean.” She grabbed his arm, and shook her head. “You can’t.”

“Yeah, Dean.” Lucifer grinned at Her, his body starting to glow, and raised his brows. “C’mon, doll, you’re the last thing we’re missing-“

“No,” Dean’s grip tightened on Her arm, and he didn’t care about the plan. Both of them, he couldn’t lose both of them- 

“And you know Mike’s not going to be good to him.” Lucifer hummed, and something strange flashed over her favors. “I am going to win, but on the chance I don’t… Dean was the prettiest girl at the dance, and he turned Michael down. You remember my promise. You already lost the shoe in with Heaven, I don’t think you want Daddy coming back.” He extended a hand, attention entirely on Her, and no- “Join me. You won’t have to be the Bride. Just you, me, Sammy, and, well-“ He grinned at Dean. “You know the rest.”

She swallowed, and Sam’s eyes widened on Her��s. 

“Don’t,” he said Her name in a pleading tone, and Dean felt like he was drifting in the Ocean. 

He knew the tide had grabbed him. He knew what was going to happen. Sammy had said yes, and he couldn’t take it back. She had a plan, and Dean had the rings, but She wanted to go for Michael too. If he fought it, he’d just be dragged further and further down, but not into Her. Into the pit in his body, already feeling so fucking empty because he fucking knew-

Sam repeated Her name desperately, and She shook Her head. 

“You have to promise.” She whispered, Her eyes not moving from Lucifer, and Dean knew it was an act, but She was too damn good at it.

“Promise. Easy.” Lucifer grinned at Her. “You in?”

“Yeah.” She let go of Dean’s arm, and he could still feel the fucking burn from where She had been touching him. “I’m in.”

Sam shouted Her name, and Dean didn’t fucking care about the plan. If this was being selfish, he’d live with it. He was going to fucking fight the tide, and he was going to let it kill him because fucking hell, he couldn’t do this without Her-

The room started to glow a red-gold light, and Dean was thrown back like a hammer had slammed into his chest. Fully out of the room with Her and Sam still inside, and Lucifer growing brighter and brighter as She stood at his side. 

Their eyes met, for only a second. She gave Dean a small, sad smile and blinked three times, right before the door slammed shut. 

But nothing was fine. None of this was fucking fine. Dean slammed his fist of the door and roared their names, and it wasn’t for the show of it. He didn’t care if Lucifer found out about Her plan, he just wanted Her back, wanted Sammy back, needed Sammy to fucking know that She wasn’t betraying them, She was just insane and brilliant and reckless, so fucking reckless with Herself when She was the most important thing in the world-

The door broke open, and Dean stumbled forward into an empty room. They were gone. Both of them were gone, and he’d just fucking let it happen. The rings felt heavier than a black hole in his pocket, and they were both gone. 

He’d get them back. They had a plan, and he was going to get them both back. But he couldn’t really breathe. All the air felt like ash in his lungs. 

He wasn’t going to be able to breathe until he got them both back. 

Cas was frowning at him when he returned to the car, glancing past Dean’s shoulder to the dead empty house. “Did she-“

“Yeah.” Dean grunted, holding the rings up for Cas to see. “She’s going for the big game.”

“Michael.” Cas muttered, and Dean could feel his gaze. “We will need to find the location of the final fight, and meet her there. The prophet should be able to see it.”

“Chuck?” Dean glanced over, and Cas nodded. “You think he’s going to be able to see how this ends? If we get it?”

“I would not count on it. Without God’s interference…” Cas sighed. “We have no way of knowing what will happen.”

Dean didn’t understand the point of a prophet, if they couldn’t just know that everything was going to be fine. That he’d find them, open the cage, She’d pull Lucifer out of Sammy and Michael out of Adam, and it would be over. They’d have to figure out what the hell to do with Adam, if this worked. The dumbass had voluntarily handed himself over to Michael, like the dipshit hadn’t kidnapped him only weeks ago. And whenever he’d tried to bring it up with Her, she’d just shrugged and mumbled something about angels being convincing. 

She’d know. Michael and Lucifer had made Her offers, and She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Dean they’d give Her paradise, but there had to be more. If they thought She wanted paradise, Lucifer would’ve offered her more. Heaven’s whole deal was bringing paradise. 

And Lucifer had been a lot less suspicious of Her than Dean liked. As if he’d always known he’d win Her over. It didn’t make Dean feel any better, with how real the whole thing had felt. And he trusted Her, with more than his goddamn life, but son of a bitch She liked to pull the most insane shit without telling him. 

He couldn’t think about it. They had work to do, so Dean couldn’t think about it. Just like he couldn’t think about how quiet the entire world was.

Like it was already in mourning. 

He didn’t want to think about any of this. He just wanted to go the hell back, to when She’d been right next to him. To when he didn’t have to park the car and walk inside, look Bobby in the eyes, and tell him what happened.

Bobby just stared at him. And maybe Dean should just swallow the end of the shotgun, because whatever Bobby did to him for losing Her, he deserved it-

“She tell you she was plannin’ that?” Bobby grunted, his knuckles white on his wheelchair, and Dean nodded. 

“She would have done it behind our backs.” Cas injected, and Dean apprenticed it. He wasn’t sure he could say anything without choking right now. “If we didn’t help her. I got her an aid, to increase her power. And Dean will open the cage, so she can keep the upper hand on Lucifer.”

Bobby looked at Dean for another long, impossible heavy silence, then nodded. 

“We best get our asses to work then.” His voice was gruff, but Dean recognized the strain in it. It was the same strain he had over his own ribs. “If she’s doin’ all the work, she needs to two idjits to pull your share.”

Their share was making a fucking phone call. 

“So,” Chuck’s voice was a little static through the laptop speakers as he said Her name. “She chose Lucifer?”

Cas sighed. “She pretended to choose Lucifer. She plans to put both Lucifer and Michael in the cage, and this is the easiest way.”

Chuck frowned. “Why both? Lucifer is the one starting the end of the world, right?”

“I don’t think Michael made that good an impression on her.” Bobby’s tone was a little dry, and Chuck’s frown deepened, but Dean pushed on. They didn’t have time for this.

“I’ve got the key to the cage,” he held it up to the camera. “So nothing’s happening until we get to her. And she’s not making a move until she’s got them both in one place, so we need to know when that’s going to happen.”

“Um, probably the final battle?” Chuck glanced at Dean nervously. “It’s at noon, in Lawrence, Kansas. Skull cemetery. And she’s really planning to put them both in-“

“Yep.” Dean shoved the key back into his jacket. “Well, Chuck, if there’s another side, we’ll see you there-“

“Wait!” Chuck sat up on the screen, and Dean’s hand paused on the top of the laptop. “Do you want to know what they’re doing? Her and Sam?”

Dean froze. He wanted nothing more to know that they were okay, but Christ, if they weren’t-

“I thought you weren’t able to see in her head,” Bobby muttered, and Chuck sighed. 

“I- I can’t. But I can see into Sam’s, so I know she’s there.”

Bobby’s eyes flashed, and he wheeled a little closer. “She alright? Lucifer ain’t- He’s not hurtin’ her-“

“I don’t think he can.” Chuck frowned. “All I saw when I was thinking of Sam is- Um- Well he’s not really thinking clearly. He’s sort of angry, but mostly because she didn’t let him in on whatever she’s planning. And whenever I could see her, it was just kind of in a corner. Lucifer’s talked to her a few times about how when he’s done, he’ll help her burn her veil? But also that, um-“ Chuck brow furrowed. “She can do better than Dean. And she should take a second look at the menu, when they’re done.”

Dean’s grip on the laptop tightened, his words pushed through his teeth. “Alright. Bye, Chuck.”

He slammed the laptop, and turned to see Cas and Bobby frowning at him. 

“What?”

They exchanged some strange look, and Cas cleared his throat. “We are… worried about you, Dean. You may not be going into this with the most stable state of mind-“

Dean cut him off with a scoff. “Stable states of mind are for assholes who do yoga and business douchebags. I’m fine.”

“Dean.” Bobby grunted. “I know what you’re thinkin’ right now-“

“No, you don’t-“

“That you feel like your whole fuckin’ life is on the line, and you ain’t able to do jack shit about it?” Bobby’s voice raised, and he held Dean’s glare. “I know that’s exactly what you’re thinkin’ boy, cause I’m thinkin’ it. At least you’re able to go out there and do somethin’ about it. Don’t get blinded and let all the shit they’re puttin’ themselves through go to waste.”

Dean’s hands curled into fists, and he shook his head. “They’re both in danger, Bobby, I’m going to do whatever the hell I gotta to get them out of it-“

“I know ya are, Dean. But I-“ Bobby sighed, running a hand over his face. “Don’t be stupid about it.”

“I won’t-“

“Yeah, ya will.”

They stared at each other for a second, and Bobby let out a long breath, looking between Dean and Cas with the most open look Dean had ever seen. And it was filled with exhaustion, and desperation, and- 

Fear. Right on the surface of Bobby’s face was pure fear, and it was so wrong. Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen Bobby afraid, but God, it was maybe the worst thing in the world. 

“Bring them home.” Bobby grunted. “Both of ‘em. And come back in one piece yourself.”

Dean nodded, and didn’t bother with a goodbye. If he said goodbye, that meant he might not come back. One piece or not.

And it wouldn’t be one piece, if he came back without Her or Sammy. If Dean came back with just Her, a large piece of him would be missing that would take a long, hard time to fill. 

If he came back, somehow, without both of them, the pit in his body would split open, and he’d never be whole again. 

Cas sat silently the whole drive, and Dean was grateful for it. Cas was there. Maybe his angel mojo was fucked, but at least he wasn’t doing this alone. At least Cas put on the music for him, dealt with the directions, and didn’t try to make him talk about how this was making him feel, because the only answer was dread. It was settling deeper than his bones, the closer they got to the cemetery. He could feel it, heavy like iron and cold like death, sunken over maybe just the fabric of his being. 

And the cemetery was dry. Gray and dry, with a dead crow sadly resting over one of the graves. Michael and Lucifer were glaring at each other and walking in circles like the worst high noon showdown in history, and Sammy looked fine, but he didn’t walk like Sammy, and She was sitting behind Lucifer. 

Silent. 

Her being silent had never been a good thing. 

Dean climbed out of the car, trying to keep his expression natural, or his lunch from falling all over the ground. “Hi. Sorry we’re late, guys, but Cas gave me a wrong exit on 81.”

Cas frowned at him, and Dean just shrugged. He couldn’t really hear his own voice, or see anything but a Sammy that actually Sammy, and Her flat-out refusal to look him in the eyes.

“Dean.” Michael frowned at him through Adam’s body, and Dean felt the dread rising to his throat, making him sort of sick. “You are lucky I don’t smite you where you stand, for daring to be here.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “He’s here to plead with Sammy and his Princess, Michael, let him get blown up in the mess-“

“I’d rather not get blown up.” Dean raised his hand, both archangels glared at him, and this didn’t really feel fucking real. “If we’re choosing horrible fates for me to meet, I’d veto blowing up. Cas, you wanna take that one for the team?”

Cas stared at him, and—thank goddamn Christ—seemed to pick up the insane plan Dean had backed himself into. “No. I would rather not.”

Dean nodded, gave the archangels an apologetic half-grin, and he was never going to be able to give Her shit about her plans again. This was what happened when he was left without Her and Sammy. His grand plan to save the world was the same one he’d had to coast through high school. 

Talk and talk and talk and say nothing at all, until the bell ran out, and class was over. 

Only here, the bell was Her doing whatever she needed to grab Michael and Lucifer, and class was her throwing them in the cage. 

It wasn’t a good metaphor. 

Dean needed Her and Sammy for that, too. 

“Lucifer.” Michael grunted, and Dean was pretty sure that glare might be capable of shredding him to ribbons. “Unless you have objections, I am going to blow them both up so we can continue-“

“I have objections. You know I have objections.” Lucifer said Her name, and she glanced up from where she’d been cross-legged in the grass. “Tell Mikey he can’t blow up Dean.”

“She does not command us, Lucifer.” Micheal muttered, even as he eyed her wearily, and Lucifer laughed. 

“Uh, yeah, she does. She certainly commands you. Dad spent so much time telling us about how perfect she’d be, how he’d done this all for her, can you imagine how disappointed he’d be in you if you made her cry?”

Michael didn’t visibly react, but Cas tensed at Dean’s side. Maybe it was only visible to other angels. “She chose wrong. I hold no deal to her, Lucifer, when she decided to turn her back on all I offered her-“

“You didn’t offer me anything,” She whispered, and Michael froze. “You told me you’d make me forget everyone. That you’d just hand me over to God.”

“He wants what’s best for you-“

She let out a dry laugh, pushing up to her feet. “Everyone wants what’s best for me. It’s usually ends with me in a basement.”

“It would have been paradise.” Michael hissed. “And you’ll see, when I win and offer you a second chance-“

“I don’t think she wants your second chance, man.” Dean cut in, trying not to think about how She was next to Lucifer. How all she needed now was to get between them. “She doesn’t really do first chances. You’re either in or out, and I don’t think you’re in.”

Michael scowled at him. “You should watch yourself, Dean. A hundred years goes faster than you think, and that is all it will take for Her to forget you.”

“Maybe.” Dean shrugged. “But I don’t think she’ll ever think anything good about you. Cas?”

“Dean.” 

He frowned, and turned to find Cas a whole lot closer to him than before. Braced. As if he was ready for something. 

“Uh-“ He shook his head, and watched her take a casual step forward in his periphery. “What does paradise look like?”

“A lot of nature.” Cas muttered, and Dean sighed, giving Michael a sympathetic look. 

“See, that’s where you’re going wrong. My girl doesn’t like the outdoors. Hates bug spray, says it makes her skin itchy. And you’re gonna have to keep soda fountains around. And, uh-“ Dean said Her name, and their eyes met. 

Her’s were a bright as when the door had closed between them. Not empty, but made of more life than he’d ever really been able to understand. 

Telling him to be ready. And to keep going. 

So he did. 

“What’s the name of that makeup store you like?”

A small smile that could’ve been nothing, but Dean would know anywhere, crossed over her lips. 

“Walgreens.”

“Right.” He looked back to Michael. “But she doesn’t buy from them, she steals. So you might need to make that, uh- Not a sin anymore. Or you can win,” he nodded to Lucifer. “But you’re gonna have to make sure the fires of hell don’t burn the books. She won’t like that either.”

There was a long second of silence, and she was just in Michael’s reach. One more second. They were so damn close-

Michael said that strange, musical sound Lucifer had made in San Francisco, and turned to her with a glare. “That is what you’re willing to betray the earth for? What you’re willing to side with my brother for, when my father, when I have been ready to give you whatever you want, since the world began?”

She didn’t say anything, but She didn’t move either, and Michael’s eyes narrowed.

“This is all in your name. And our fight,” he gestured between himself and Lucifer, who was mostly just frowning. “Is not yours. Come here. I’ll put you somewhere safe, until you understand.”

She still didn’t move. 

But Michael did. 

He lunged for Her, and Dean didn’t think. He’d never thought, when he was on a hunt. When She or Sammy were in danger. 

He’d only ever moved. 

Dean sprinted forward, trying to put himself between Her and Michael’s hand, and he couldn’t hear anything over the blood in his ears. She might have screamed his name, but at least if he died here, that would be the last thing he ever heard. And She’d pull out Sammy, and they’d be fine without him. She and Sammy had already survived when he’d been dead, and when God came for Her maybe she’d drop in on him in hell, because he sure as shit wasn’t going to heaven when Michael was about to kill him. 

But he wasn’t dead. 

He’d been yanked back by the collar of jacket, but Michael hadn’t grabbed Her. The archangel had been knocked back by Cas, brawling in Dean’s place, somehow holding his own for more than a second, until- 

Cas vanished, reappeared at Dean’s side, and Michael burst into flames. 

Dean stared at the lingering ash on the ground, then at Cas. “What the hell did you do?”

“I shot him.” Cas muttered, holding up a gun. “I did not know it would have that effect.”

“That’s Bobby’s gun.” She whispered, and Dean’s head whipped up to find her blinking at him. “I enchanted it.”

“Oh.” Dean grinned at Her. “Cool.”

“Castiel.” Lucifer hissed, and the expression on his face was goddamn murderous. It couldn’t be anything good. “You should be dead.”

“I know how not to shoot myself-“

“No.” Lucifer clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Holding a fight with Michael, even cheating should have destroyed you, but-“ His gaze slid to Her. “Someone helped you. Gave you a boost.”

She swallowed, and Cas grabbed Dean’s arm before he could launch forward again. 

“You shouldn’t be strong enough to restore an angels grace.” Lucifer hissed. “You ate an apple, didn’t you. You were going to betray me.”

“I-“

“Shh.” Lucifer held a finger to his lips, his gaze sliding to Cas and Dean. “You did a good job. It’s going to take a lot more effort than before to smite him. But I can still-“

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and Cas vanished. A shout had barely left Dean’s mouth when Lucifer scoffed, and appeared right in front of him, wrapping a hand around Dean’s throat and lifting him off the ground.

“He’s alive.” Lucifer sneered. “Thrown down to the bottom of the Pacific ocean, but alive. And I’d be more worried for yourself Dean.” He tossed Dean all the way back against the Impala, and the pain had barely even gotten a chance to hit him before he was being lifted up again, and slammed back down. 

She was screaming again, in the background. But Dean couldn’t get to Her, couldn’t calm her down or save Her from this one. He could only look at Sammy’s face, full of a pure hate that made Dean wish Lucifer would just get it over with, and feeling the snap of his ribs as a kick like wrecking ball slammed into his chest. 

"Hear that?” Lucifer sneered in his ear, and Dean’s vision was starting to fill with spots as his head got bashed once more. “She won’t hurt you, or she’ll try not to. But she’ll snap, and kill you, and then neither of you will get anything. I’ll lock her up, just like Mikey would’ve, and maybe Daddy will come and take her. Maybe she’ll just rot forever. Or I can bring her back, make a duplicate of you, and make her watch me kill all those too.” Lucifer laughed, and Dean wasn’t sure what was Her screams or just his own pain anymore. “I’ll kill that old coot you both got, too. And Sammy will live happily,” Lucifer raised him up, glass crashing somewhere in the background, and Dean felt a sting near his back. “Without any of you-“

Lucifer’s words cut off, and Dean blinked. The light was too bright. It was making his vision blur and his head throb, and he could barely see anything but Sammy’s face-

Sammy. 

That wasn’t Lucifer, looking back at him in shock and confusion and pain. It was-

“Sammy.” Dean’s voice was weak, and Sam’s grip slacked on him immediately.

“Fuck, Dean-“ Sam’s eyes scanned over him, wide and frantic. “I- I’m sorry-“

“Not-“ Dean coughed, the motion hurting his lungs, and She was still crying. He could hear it. It might be making everything hurt more. “Not you. Wasn’t you, Sammy, but-“

“Dean, I can’t hold him long- The cage-“

“No.” He shook his head, looking over Sam’s shoulder to Her. On Her knees in the grass, curled into Herself, a hand around her own throat. 

He couldn’t go to Her now. They didn’t have time. But after, he’d maybe hold Her for the rest of his life and not let go.

Dean whispered Her name, shoving the key into Sam’s hand. “Trust her. You gotta trust her.”

Sam followed Dean’s gaze, nodded—not a question, but Dean didn’t really Sammy’d had one about her since they met—and moved. 

He felt like he was floating. Like he was watching something on a TV, instead of it folding out in front of him. Sam stopped in front of Her, offering a hand to stand up, and She glanced at Dean but took it. Then She pulled an apple out of Her jacket—iridescent and glowing—and started to eat it as Sam tossed the key on to the ground. The earth started to shudder and bend, and Dean was still just suspended in nothing, unable to real feel anything but numb pain and that dread. The wind shifted slightly, blowing right against his face as She gave Sam a small smile, and placed a hand on his chest. And Dean- 

He could smell the fruit. Stronger than ever in his goddamn life, right on the wind. 

The apple. It was the fucking glowing apple, and he could smell it.

He was crashing right back down to earth, right as it all blew apart. 

Michael reappeared, a step behind Her. And Dean roared Her name in warning, ignoring the pain it shot through his chest., but Sam was faster. He grabbed Michael, turned them both to Her with a tiny nod, and when She slammed Her hand on Michael’s chest, Dean could see it. 

All the dry color of the cemetery, vivid. The dead grass turning green and starting to bloom in all those strange flowers Dean had never seen before. The ground shaking and the crow that had been dead on the grave a moment ago, cawing then taking off. 

Her pupils, blindingly silver as Her beautiful face sent in determination. All Her features seeming to glow as She pulled Michael and Lucifer out of their vessel. 

Michael moved first, and Dean felt like that thing deeper than his bones was being ripped apart. Michael was all yellow and a flurry of a million wings that were going to make him go deaf, and fitting in Her hand and somehow still bigger than the sun. 

Michael was thrashing. Trying to fight Her, as he was pulled all the way out and Adam’s body fell to the ground. But Lucifer wasn’t coming out. 

Lucifer wasn’t coming out, and She wasn’t throwing Michael into the pit. Every time Dean saw Her turn, Michael twisted and roared, Her eyes squeezed shut, and a goddamn tree shot out of the ground. She couldn’t let him go. She couldn’t let go of Michael, and Lucifer wasn’t coming out. 

Time seemed to slow, and Dean wasn’t suspended anymore, but he also couldn’t move. Lucifer had either broken his legs, or he just didn’t fully register what was happening until it was done. 

She looked at Sam, said something Dean couldn’t hear over the pounding of Michael’s wings, and Sam took her free hand and said something back. They just looked at each other for a long moment, and then they both looked at Dean. 

He tried to call for them. Tried to roar that whatever they were doing, it was insane, and he could do it instead. He could take the bullet, jump on the grenade, be the punching bag or put himself in the line of fire. 

He might have gotten his plea out. Maybe not. It didn’t really matter.

Because She and Sammy turned away and, hand in hand, fell into the cage together. 

It sealed shut before Dean could even get in a breath for a scream. 

And they were both gone. Leaving Dean alone with nothing but himself, and the wind. 

End Note: I think this might have counted as psychological torture? Please not call the UN on me, they’ll send me a strongly worded letter.

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

Buy me a coffee!☕️

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[jumpscaregoose]

I love my girlies (they are 100% legally related and have nothing to hide whatsoever)

[3motionally3xhausted]

Redesigning the Fentons!!

Hi yes this is for yet another Danny Phantom AU of mine it has nothing to do with the Apprenticeship AUs but unlike that batch I actually wanna turn this AU into a fic eventually once I get through a few other big projects I have *sobs*

Anyway individual files for each character under the cut along with my obligatory rambling about all the choices I made ;)

Jazz! Honestly, when I was a kid, I always thought she was 18 not 16 so it was kind of a shock when I started rewatching the show about a yr ago and heard that. Anyway, she's 17 in this AU but already moved out to college on a scholarship bc living in FentonWorks is kind of hell and she has that Older Sibling Guilt for leaving Danny there. For her clothes, I wanted it to be a mix of tactical and preppy.

Danny! (Fenton) The effects of FentonWorks hell is much more visible on Danny than Jazz because she got out of there as soon as she could. Because of that though, a lot of the chores in the lab got pushed onto Danny, without passing on many safety tips, like replacing the ecto-filtrator, cleaning contaminated tools, organizing ecto-weapons, etc. And because he doesn't know any better when it comes to safety, he has many symptoms of radiation poisoning: visually, this comes through in the discoloration/scarring on his skin (Jazz has some slight scarring on her face and hands as well), the cataract on his left eye, as well as burst blood vessels in that eye. For his clothes, I wanted them to look a bit ragged and worn through ripped seams, tears in the jeans, & duct tape around his shoe.

Danny! (Phantom) I don't actually have a lot to SAY about my choics, but I am really happy with it. There are still a few things. I wanted his hair as Fenton & Phantom to be different but still reminiscent of the simplistic rendering of the original show: Fenton is kind of timid so his hair falls over his face, & Phantom is more active/aggressive so his hair is pushed upward. The only other thing I want to comment on is his skin: it's kind of about how I usually stylize Phantom (and I mentioned this when I redesigned Dani a while back) but a "healthy" Phantom in my style would have more bright cyan skin and an unhealthy Phantom has a more dull/zombie green. And lastly, as a ghost, the radiation poisoning kind of cleans up into more neat scarring rather than the muddy/bleeding look as Fenton.

Maddie! Now, I'm gonna be honest, real vulnerable here,... I hate Maddie's canon haircut. It's ugly, I'm not sorry. But I can modify it, so it's fine: now it's curlier, a bit darker, and has a few grey streaks bc she's a genius and constantly pulling long working hours. And, it didn't come across as much as I wanted, but she's got some biceps, strong lady. Now, I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to shift the color of her and Jack's jumpsuit, making hers much more desaturated.

Jack! Big guy. I don't have many thoughts about him either, but I did give him glasses and some stubble for a little bit more dad energy (?) I mainly changed the color of his jumpsuit bc Orange is an extremely hard color for me to render for some reason, so now it's the classic Hazard Yellow. Finally, the most notable difference is the coat I put on him for a bit more scientist energy but my main reasoning for it is the potential visual of him being an absolute tank jumping from overhead with the ghost gauntlets and his coat flapping behind him. Also, I generally like the idea of him presenting himself as a big, dumb teddy-bear, always smiling, but completely unhinged below that facade: dropping the smile or not while towering over you in shadow. Wild imagery.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Do not count on any actual steps towards creating this fic in the near future, it's just on my mind right now, but I NEED to finish my other projects first 🙏🙏🙏 That said, I will (eventually) get around to a handful more character redesigns for this AU including: Vlad, Sam, Tucker, Valerie, Paulina, and maybe Lancer & Dash

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Book 1

SUMMARY:

Going from one werewolf pack to another. There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation is now replaced with something less sinister. Can Y/N learn to trust another group of werewolves?

Warnings:

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance themed fanfic!

⚠️ Omegaverse, A/B/O, Marking, Biting, Mating, Blood play, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, VERY SMUTTY, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, M/M/F, Possessive SKZ, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Threesome, Foreplay, Begging ⚠️

💫🐺🌙

Before starting I would like to give a MASSIVE SHOUT OUT to these amazing works of art. These people's works inspired me to write my own A/B/O. So please also check their works out.

@ot8xbangchansgirlsblog The heart of the pack 12/10!!!! An addictive read. It was also the first ever A/B/O I encountered, but I love how pure it is and the romantic mxm involvement! And Idol SKZ!!! PLEASE JUST READ IT!!!!!

@doitforbangchan All Bark and No Bite 12/10!! The SMUT blew my mind. The dynamics between the reader and Straykids were incredible. Overall iconic and is a MUST read.

@last-words-ofashootingstar Allure 12/10!!! Made me feel a certain type of way. Felt like a sinner for reading it. Absolutely loved Seonghwa being a menace. Another definite read!!

@felixsramen Yours Truly 12/10!!!! Love poly stray kids with fem reader. Its such a wholesome read and I love love love it!!! Please read it!!! (Not A/B/O related but needs to be recognised)

@jakeys-layla Fanfiction Recommendations 12/10!!!! Has all the recommendations for you From A/B/O to historical and royalty fanfictions. Her account is a lifesaver and she's still recommending.

MASTERLIST

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11 ⚠️💦

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 ⚠️💦

Chapter 16 ⚠️❗

Chapter 17 ⚠️‼️

Chapter 18 ⚠️‼️

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 ⚠️💦

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24 ⚠️

Chapter 25 ⚠️

Book 2 is here.

Feeling Inspired by my fanfiction. Go ahead and write your own. Any ideas, concepts or themes used please credit me accordingly© If you are unsure message me, I definitely do not bite 💙

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"God loves you but not enough to save you,"

summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

❝ to my love, Joel.

,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.

while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.

don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.

and don't worry about me and these green eyes,

baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.

i love you forever, Joel... ❞

THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️

the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller

MASTERLIST!🐇

Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"

Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"

Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"

Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"

Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"

Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"

Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"

Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"

Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"

Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"

Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"

Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."

Chapter 13: "Beautiful people, beautiful problems."

Chapter 14: "You put your hands into your head, and then smile cover your hearts."

Chapter 15: "Something's bad is 'bout to happen to me,"

Chapter 16: "Tag, you're it."

Chapter 17: "If he's a serial killer then what's the worst that could happen to a girl who's already hurt?"

Chapter 18: "He's cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed"

Chapter 19: "Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise,"

Chapter 20: "You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

Chapter 21: "If we die tonight, I'd died yours."

Chapter 22: "I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere"

-THE END-

read it on wattpad!

the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms

ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵

[formulafanfics13]

Oscar and the reader are friends. They met at boarding school in the United Kingdom and became close because they were foreign students. Things continue like this until a new girl arrives at the boarding school and takes an interest in Oscar. He is afraid of ruining things with you if he tells you he is in love with you, he thinks you don't reciprocate, so he gives the girl a chance. The reader, besides being heartbroken, wonders if he never saw her as a woman, since she was always available to him, hoping he would see her as more than a friend. Our protagonist changes classes and becomes a ghost in Piastri's life. The more distant she becomes, the crazier he becomes. Things between him and another girl end quickly. He confronts his friend and she pushes him away, but he resists and declares his love for her (🔥)

She was always there - OP81 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: You and Oscar met at fifteen, forming a deep, unspoken bond that never turned romantic — until he fell for someone else. Heartbroken, you disappeared from his life. Years later, on the brink of graduation, he finds you again and confronts the truth: he’s always loved you. In a raw, emotional confession, everything comes to light — ending in a desperate, cathartic, and feral reunion in the school library.

Warnings: Angst, emotional heartbreak, miscommunication, public sex, rough sexual content, school setting, past emotional neglect, intense reunion.

You met Oscar the first week of Year Ten. Both of you new. Both foreign. Both awkward in the way only fifteen-year-olds can be, thrown into a sea of cold uniforms and clipped English vowels and rules you didn’t fully understand.

He sat beside you in Geography. You shared a desk. You shared homework. You shared silence until it turned into familiarity. Then into laughter. Then into something sacred. Something private.

By the end of the year, he knew everything about you, what songs you cried to, what food you hated, how your voice sounded when you were fighting sleep. You knew everything about him too. He was blunt. Brilliant. Terrified of spiders. He’d press the side of his fist to his lips when he laughed and never told anyone when he was hurting, except you.

You were always there. Always.

At 16, he gave you his hoodie when you had cramps during finals week. At 17, he snuck chocolate from the staff kitchen into your bag before your big literature exam. At 18, he held your hand under the table during your birthday dinner because your parents didn’t come.

You never kissed. Never fucked. Never called it anything. But god, you loved him. You thought maybe he’d eventually love you back.

Then she arrived. The new girl. Pretty. Polished. One of those international students with expensive lip gloss and a sharp laugh. She came in halfway through the final term. Laughed too loud. Touched Oscar’s arm when she spoke to him. Wore perfume so sweet it made your stomach turn.

And he liked it. You could see it. In the way his eyes followed her down the hallway. The way he stopped waiting for you after class. The way his texts became shorter, more spaced out. You didn’t ask. You didn’t say a word. You were always afraid he didn’t love you, now you were terrified he never even saw you.

Then he told you. He sat beside you on the library steps one evening, looking everywhere but your face. “I think I’m going to give her a chance.”

That’s all he said. Not a warning. Not a question. Just a fact.

And you smiled, smiled, god help you, and said, “Yeah. Of course.” He didn’t see the way your hands clenched when he walked away. Didn’t hear the sob you swallowed later in the bathroom. Didn’t know you stayed up all night thinking: maybe he never saw me as a girl at all. Maybe I was just convenient. Familiar. Comfort. Not someone you kiss. Not someone you fuck. Just a placeholder until something shinier comes along.

By Monday, you’d changed classes. Science. Literature. Even lunch period. No warning. No note. You ghosted him. Weeks passed. Then months. He texted. You didn’t reply. He showed up at your locker. You weren’t there. He waited outside your dorm. You snuck out the back. The more you disappeared, the more feral he became.

Things with the other girl crumbled fast. Too fast. He was distracted. Cold. Distant. She told him she felt like he was chasing someone who wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t argue. She was right.

Because you weren’t there. He tried to corner you once after class, hand on your wrist, voice low, asking why. You said nothing. Just stared at him with eyes so hollow he almost didn’t recognise you. Then turned around and walked away.

The night it finally snapped was the last week before graduation. The halls were quieter than usual. Everyone gone or partying. You were alone in the old library, the upper floor no one used anymore. Feet tucked beneath you on the couch, a book in your lap, music low in your headphones.

And then Oscar. He didn’t knock. Didn’t call your name. Just stood in the doorway, chest rising fast, eyes dark. You looked up. Met his gaze. And something cracked.

“What the fuck did I do?” he said, voice shaking.

You blinked. “Osc-”

“No, fuck this,” he snapped. “You disappeared. You left me. You changed your whole schedule just to avoid me and you never said a fucking thing.”

“I had to,” you said quietly.

“Why?” His voice broke. “Because I liked someone? Because I tried something new? Was that all it took for you to hate me?”

You stood up. ���I don’t hate you.”

“You sure act like it.”

You stared at him. At the lines in his face that weren’t there two years ago. The shadows under his eyes. The way he looked at you like you’d ripped something out of him. “I was in love with you,” you whispered. “For years.”

Silence. He blinked. Swallowed.

“I waited,” you continued. “I waited for you to see me. Not as a friend. Not as your backup. As a fucking woman. I thought- I thought maybe if I was always there, you’d finally-”

“I did see you.”

You flinched. He stepped closer. “I saw you every single fucking day. You think I didn’t? You think I didn’t know you were it for me? I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of losing you,” he said. “Of ruining it. Of saying something and hearing no. Because you were my best friend and I thought you didn’t feel it back, and then she showed up and I panicked. I wanted to forget how badly I wanted you. But I couldn’t.”

His hands were shaking. His breath uneven.

“I couldn’t even fuck her properly,” he muttered. “Every time I touched her, I saw your face. Every time I kissed her, I wanted it to be you.”

You stared at him. Rage and grief and lust twisting in your gut like poison. “Why are you here now?” you asked.

“Because I’m done being scared,” he said. “Because I’m done pretending I don’t dream about you every single night. Because I want you. All of you. And I don’t give a shit if it ruins everything.”

And then he was kissing you. Fierce. Desperate. Like he was starving. You pulled at his shirt, fists curled in fabric, teeth clashing. He slammed you into the bookshelf, hands on your thighs, dragging you up until you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You’re mine,” he growled into your mouth. “You’ve always been mine.”

You moaned, loud, feral, as he rolled his hips against you, hard cock grinding into your centre. Still clothed. Still messy. “You ruined me,” you breathed. “You broke me and now you want to fuck me like nothing happened?”

“No,” he panted. “I want to fuck you because it happened.”

He dropped to his knees, pulled your skirt up, shoved your underwear aside. Then his mouth was on you. Wet. Ruthless. Tongue working you open, fingers digging into your thighs. You cried out, hips bucking, and he held you down like he was drowning in you.

You came with his name on your lips, sharp, trembling, obscene.

And he didn’t stop. He stood up, pulled his cock out, stroked it once, twice, and then slammed into you, shoving you back against the shelves, your legs still around him, your body already shaking.

“Mine,” he growled. “Fucking mine.”

The sound of skin. Of breath. Of books falling off the shelf. Of your moans echoing off stone walls like confessionals. He fucked you like he was claiming you. Like every thrust was an apology and a promise and a punishment. Like he needed to feel every inch of what he lost and what he could still have. When he came, he didn’t pull out. He buried his face in your neck, held you there, and whispered, “I’m never letting you go again.”

And for the first time in a long time. You let yourself believe it.

[sojumimi]

又 : loving you again ──── 西村力 (니키)

SYNOPSIS : where two meet as strangers and then become friends, but then one leaves the other behind, and that they are strangers again... will they mend their relationship to become friends again or even something more, or would they leave everything as they had left it?

COUPLE : high school student!ni-ki x high school student!reader to ➤ ???!ni-ki x ???!reader

GENRE : romance, slice of life, reality check, and a sprinkle of angst [maybe a little more than a sprinkle, but you know what i mean], slow burn!!

BEFORE READING : the story starts out when both ni-ki and the fmc/fl [female lead/female main character] are in high school, it’s a bit of a long start before they meet again, cause like you need development and plot ㅠㅠ ⋮⋮ face claim of the fmc/fl [female lead/female main character] is only for imagery purposes only!! in no way shape or form am i shipping her with ni-ki! ALSO FYI TIME WILL NOT MAKE SENSE- I didn't think this through guys ㅠㅠ

WARNING : vulgar language, and kys/kms jokes will be made, and some maybe nsfw jokes

CAST : enhypen members, leehan [bnd], sungho [bnd], eunchae [lesserafim], myung jaehyun [bnd]

STATUS : on going [on hold]

STARTED : 20250330 @ 23:11

ENDED :

ꜱᴏᴊᴜᴍɪᴍɪ : my first SMAU and I think my storage is dying 哈哈哈哈, and plot may not be plotting, please bear with me ㅠㅠ

chapters & profiles :

PROFLIES : [daisie.co] || [#popular] || [honorable mentions]

CHAPTERS :

01 im sorry what, now?!

02 why. why would you choose that-

03 research

04 group hangout (not)

05 fracture, dumb shit happened

06 who the hell is that?

07 planning?

08 cafe date!

09 disaster

10 looking after a man child, only for tutoring ofcourse

11 oh- she's mad

12 arcade

13 results, shedding happy tears

14 group study session?? and more injuries

15 all nighter #grumpy yn

16 exam season midterms, finals, and ap exams

17 more all nighters

18 extra circulars

19 collage aps

20 bowling? youre a bowl???

21 that’s gay

22 ate night gathering

23 crushes, teasing, getting love from hyungs

24 k-tv, #sunghoon and sungho embarrassing moment

25 summer plans

26 news

27 letters and sobs

28 did she delete her account?

29 gone, she’s gone?

30 graduation

31 starting again ( time jump second year of university)

more coming soon...

reminder all chapter titles are subject to change! <3

──── taglist : closed

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated !

© all rights reserved sojumimi 2025

do not copy, steal or repost my work without permission.

[cassiemaebarnes]

Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 18 (final part)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterlist

Bucky x reader

Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.

Word Count: 3,068

Warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI

After a few hours of reading, you closed your book with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m bored. And hungry.”

Bucky just chuckled, closing his own book and looking over at you. “Alright. Where do you wanna go?”

You just hummed, then looked at him with a smile. “We should go somewhere nice. First official date as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “I know a place.”

He stood, grabbing your book from your lap, then reaching out his hand to help you up. You took it and stood, then laced your fingers with his as you made your way back to the car.

He opened the passenger door for you, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in, leaning back and tossing the books back into the bag in the back seat.

The drive wasn’t long, just about twenty minutes, with soft music playing on the radio and your fingers still laced with his over the center console. You tried to guess where he was taking you, throwing out random names of restaurants and diners around the city, but he just smirked and shook his head each time.

When he finally pulled up to a charming, warmly lit restaurant tucked on a quiet street corner, you let out a delighted little gasp.

“This is perfect,” you said, already reaching for your door handle.

“Ah, ah,” Bucky scolded playfully, immediately getting out and circling the car.

You just smiled, heart fluttering a little as he opened it for you and held out his hand. You took it gladly, stepping out, and as soon as you were on your feet, he gently tucked your hand into the crook of his arm.

“Such a gentleman,” you murmured, teasing.

He just smirked. “You bring it out of me.”

Inside, the hostess greeted you with a warm smile and led you to a cozy table near the back, the lighting soft and golden. Bucky pulled your chair out before you could even think to reach for it, then sat across from you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a fondness that made your cheeks warm.

You both scanned the menus for a few minutes before placing your orders, and once the waitress walked away, you both settled in comfortably, conversation flowing easily.

“You know,” you said, twirling your straw in your drink, “if you keep being this perfect, I might get used to it.”

Bucky grinned, leaning back in his seat, one arm resting over the back of the chair beside him. “That the worst thing that could happen?”

You tilted your head in thought. “Hmm…no. But it does raise the bar significantly for everyone else.”

He leaned forward a little, voice low and teasing. “Good. I don’t want anyone else to try.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh, but your smile lingered as you rested your chin on your hand. “You know, I like this. Just…us. Normal.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Me too, doll.”

The food arrived not long after, and the conversation shifted from mission stories and random Avengers chaos to childhood memories and bucket list dreams. You laughed so hard at one of Bucky’s sarcastic remarks about Sam that you nearly choked on your water, and he looked so pleased with himself it only made you laugh harder.

By the time the plates were cleared, you felt full – not just from the food, but from the warmth of the night, the comfort of Bucky’s presence, the soft kind of happiness that didn’t need to be loud to be real.

And when the waitress asked if you wanted dessert, Bucky looked at you and asked, “You want something sweet?”

You smiled. “I already got you.”

He groaned at the cheesiness, but he was grinning like a fool.

“Alright, now you’re just trying to kill me,” he said with a chuckle.

“Okay but seriously,” you said, looking at the waitress and raising an eyebrow, “what do you have.”

She laughed softly before handing you a dessert menu, telling you she’d give you a few minutes and stepping away.

Bucky clutched his chest as if you’d wounded him, eyes wide with mock betrayal.

“You actually do want something sweet?” he gasped.

You grinned, totally playing along. “I do. I can’t help it. I’m craving something rich and chocolatey.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. “Unbelievable. I give you my heart, and you throw me aside for dessert.”

You snorted. “Please, like you weren’t planning on stealing bites the second it shows up.”

He narrowed his eyes with a smirk. “Bold of you to assume I like sweet things.”

Before you could reply, the waitress returned, and Bucky turned on the charm like a switch. “She’ll have the chocolate lava cake, please.”

You rested your chin on your hand and smiled at him. “You know me so well.”

“I do my best,” he said with a wink.

When the dessert arrived, you practically lit up, grabbing a spoon and diving in with a satisfied hum. “Oh, this is so good.”

You held out a spoonful to him. “C’mon, just one bite.”

He leaned back slightly, shaking his head with a half-smile. “I’m not a big sweets guy.”

You froze mid-spoon lift, gasping dramatically. “Excuse me?”

He raised a brow. “What?”

“You don’t like sweets?” You blinked at him in mock horror. “So you don’t like me?”

His grin turned sly. “Oh, I like you plenty. I can handle some sweetness.” He leaned forward slightly, voice low and teasing. “I’m just saving my dessert for later.”

You paused, caught completely off guard by the heat in his tone. Your brain short-circuited for a second, your cheeks heating as your spoon hovered in midair. But then you laughed, biting your lip and shaking your head.

“Wow,” you said under your breath. “Did not see that one coming.”

But inside, your thoughts were far less composed. The words replayed in your head on a loop, and suddenly, your legs felt a little weaker under the table.

You finished the dessert with a flurry of shared smiles and lingering glances, and when the waitress brought the check, Bucky was already reaching for his wallet.

“I can–” you started, but he was already slipping a card onto the table.

He gave you a look. “I’ve got it.”

You shrugged, completely unbothered. “Good. Because I didn’t even bring my wallet.”

That got a real laugh out of him, head tilting back slightly. “Unbelievable.”

You just grinned smugly, pushing the empty plate toward the edge of the table. “What can I say? I like being spoiled.”

He leaned closer, lips curling into a soft smirk. “Good. I like spoiling you.”

And you couldn’t help it – your stomach flipped again, that light, happy flutter taking over your whole chest as you looked at him across the table.

The waitress came and took the check, then came back a moment later, setting it down with a smile. “All set. You two have a great night.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said with a nod as he stood, already moving around the table.

You started to push your chair back, but he was there before you could even touch it, gently sliding it out for you. You gave him a look as you stood, a smile tugging at your lips. “You really going for the perfect gentleman routine tonight, huh?”

He just offered his arm with a smirk. “Always, doll.”

You looped your arm through his, letting him lead you toward the exit. He opened the restaurant door for you too, holding it until you stepped outside, then following close behind.

When you reached the car, he quickly jogged around to open the passenger door for you. “After you.”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Careful, Barnes. If you keep this up, I might get used to it.”

He smirked. “Good. You should.”

The second you were buckled in, he shut your door and rounded the front to slide into the driver’s seat. He started the car, one hand on the wheel, the other settling comfortably on your thigh.

At first, it was casual – his thumb rubbing slow circles into your leggings. But then his hand started to drift. Just a little. Barely noticeable.

Except your stomach noticed. Immediately.

You glanced down, then shot him a look, grinning. “You know that’s illegal, right?”

He looked far too smug for someone who was definitely not watching the road as closely as he should’ve been. “What? My hand? It’s just resting.”

“Resting doesn’t involve slowly creeping up my thigh like that,” you said, trying to keep your voice even.

His thumb moved just a little higher. “You sure? Feels pretty natural to me.”

You snorted, trying not to squirm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he added casually, “if you didn’t want me touching you, you wouldn’t be wearing these leggings. They’re criminal, doll.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

“Completely,” he said without missing a beat. “You wear them, I suffer. It’s a crime against me, really.”

“Uh-huh.” You leaned your head back against the seat, trying to hide your smile – and how warm your skin was getting under his palm. “You’re laying it on thick tonight.”

“Can’t help it,” he said, flashing you a grin. “You looked too damn good crawling across that bed earlier. It’s burned into my brain now.”

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “You’re such a menace.”

He chuckled, voice low and rich. “You love it.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “Unfortunately.”

He laughed again, and you felt his hand squeeze your thigh gently – still wandering dangerously close to territory that was definitely not rated for a public highway. But his grin stayed playful, teasing, never crossing the line.

And the whole ride back, the two of you kept trading jokes and flirty banter, your laughter filling the car, the heat between you simmering quietly – the kind of warmth that promised more later, once you were back behind closed doors.

By the time you pulled up to the compound, your face hurt from smiling and your stomach still fluttered every time Bucky’s hand moved just a little higher on your thigh.

He parked the car and turned off the engine, glancing over at you with that same teasing smirk he’d worn all night. “You good?”

You raised a brow. “You mean aside from being relentlessly harassed in the passenger seat?”

“Harassed?” he scoffed, feigning offense. “That was gentle affection.”

You snorted. “Your definition of gentle needs some serious revision.”

He only grinned more, unbuckling and hopping out. You reached for your handle, but – of course – he beat you to it, opening your door with a flourish and offering his hand.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you said with a curtsy of your head as you stepped out.

He shut the door behind you and leaned in. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You walked side by side into the compound, your steps slow, a bit lazy from the comfortable buzz of good food, warmth, and the lingering tension still dancing between you. The building was quiet – most of the team already turned in for the night. The low hum of lights and soft echo of your footsteps filled the halls as you headed toward his room.

The second you turned the corner toward his hallway, Bucky’s hand found your waist and pulled you in closer, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. “Still sweet?”

You glanced up at him, meeting those blue eyes with a challenge. “Why? You planning on testing that theory?”

His grin was slow and dangerous, his hand tightening just slightly on your waist. “Maybe.”

“Well then,” you said, opening his door, stepping inside, and tugging him in by the front of his shirt, “let’s see.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and the second it did, Bucky was on you.

One hand stayed on your waist as his other came up and cupped your face as his lips met yours. His fingers slid back into your hair as the kiss deepened, and your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, your bodies pressing flush.

You walked backward blindly, lips never parting, until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands were everywhere – your waist, your back, skimming the hem of your sweater and slipping underneath. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers on your skin, warm and a little rough, his touch reverent and searching.

He picked you up effortlessly, laying you down on the bed as he climbed on and hovered over top of you. He used his knee to part your legs, then settled in between them as he leaned back down to you.

His lips crashed into yours again, more urgent now. He pulled your sweater up and over your head, tossing it aside without even looking, then leaned in to press open-mouthed kisses down your neck, taking his time like he had nowhere else to be but with you.

You gasped when he reached a sensitive spot near your collarbone, your hands tightening in his shirt before you started pulling it up. His red henley joined your sweater on the floor, and your fingers traced over the defined lines of his chest, the contrast of soft skin and firm muscle beneath your palms making your stomach flip.

His hand slipped underneath your back, unhooking your bra, then pulling it off of you.

His eyes dragged over you with quiet reverence, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the center of your chest.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, lips brushing over your skin with every word. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You felt your cheeks flush, your breath catching as his kisses trailed lower – over your ribs, down your stomach – each one deliberate, slow, like he was savoring you.

“Still sweet?” he whispered again, his smirk returning as he glanced up at you, lips just above the waistband of your leggings.

You arched an eyebrow, challenging. “You tell me.”

That was all the permission he needed.

His fingers hooked into the band of your leggings, dragging them down achingly slow. “I plan on finding out,” he murmured, the heat in his voice sending a shiver through you. “Told you I was saving dessert for later.”

He kissed your hipbone, then lower, his voice rough with want as he added, “And I’ve been starving, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched again as he settled between your thighs, and then his mouth was on you – warm, purposeful, and utterly devastating.

You cried out, fingers threading through his hair, hips instinctively rolling toward him. He held you firm, one hand gripping your thigh as the other slid slowly up your side, grounding you.

“Mmm,” he hummed, wicked and pleased against your skin. “Knew it. Fucking sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

You were already trembling, pleasure curling low in your belly, but that voice – his voice – was what unraveled you. He kept talking between kisses, every word more sinful than the last.

“Could spend all night right here, doll…tasting you, hearing those sounds…”

You whimpered, and he chuckled darkly. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Let go for me baby.”

It didn’t take long.

And when he finally pulled himself back up over you, his mouth found yours again – slow, deep, dizzying – and when you tasted yourself on his tongue, your whole body lit up all over again.

And for the rest of the night, he made good on every promise his voice had made.

--

The soft hum of the alarm drifted through the room just after sunrise.

You didn’t move.

You were still curled against Bucky’s chest, your leg draped over his, your body tangled with his beneath the sheets. His arms were wrapped around you, protective even in sleep, one hand resting over the curve of your waist like it belonged there.

You felt him stir before the alarm clicked off – his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, laced with sleep.

“Mm,” you hummed, eyes still closed, “no it’s not. It’s too early to be morning.”

He chuckled softly, and the sound rumbled through his chest against your cheek. “Fair point.”

You both lay there in the stillness for a while, no rush, no expectations. Just the warmth of the covers, the quiet hum of the compound beyond the walls, and the comfort of being exactly where you were supposed to be.

Eventually, you shifted just enough to look up at him. His hair was tousled, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the soft look on his face when he met your gaze made your heart flutter.

“What?” you whispered, smiling.

He shook his head slightly. “Nothin’. Just…never thought I’d be waking up like this.”

You let your fingers drift lightly over his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your touch. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Kind of crazy how fast everything changed.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, but he looked at you with that rare kind of softness that was reserved only for you.

You tucked your face back into the crook of his neck, breathing him in, and let your thoughts wander. It really was wild, how different everything felt now. How not long ago, he was the quiet, brooding guy in the corner, the one everyone called grumpy. The one who barely spoke to anyone.

And now?

Now he was the one who kept your toothbrush in his drawer. Who ordered your dessert without asking. Who kissed you like it was the only language he knew.

“Y’know,” you said softly, “you haven’t been that grumpy lately.”

He hummed, eyes closed again. “Don’t need to be. Not when I’ve got you.”

You felt your chest squeeze, your smile turning soft and full of something deeper.

“Guess the new girl fixed the grump,” you teased gently.

He smirked, eyes cracking open. “Nah. She just gave him something to smile about.”

You leaned up and kissed him, slow and sweet – no rush, no pressure. Just love. Real and full and steady.

And as the morning light spilled gently through the curtains, you stayed right there in his arms, knowing that this wasn’t the end of your story.

It was just the beginning.

--

Masterlist

Thank you guys so much for the love on this series!!!! I appreciate you all so much! I loved writing this, but I decided it was time to wrap it up...I have so much more in store for you all though!

Tag list: @ordelixx @read-just-cant-stop @erinallene @crazycleo @magnoliamermaid @thewriters64 @nelachu2423 @kjah97 @awesompawsum @winchestert101 @buckyb-stan @crazyunsexycool @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @buckybarnesfic @ozwriterchick @multiversefanfics @blavikennbutcher @mysoggywaffle @nameless-ken @starfly-nicole @440mxs-wife @vicmc624 @lostinspace33 @prettylittlepluviophile @softpia @maryevm @glossy01 @ye-olde-trash-panda @bonnyclydecat @iyskgd @ohdrey89 @death-in-love @herejustforbuckybarnes @whitewolfluvr @violetpassionfruit @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @silas-aeiou @avengemepercy @starstruckfirecat @yehfitoormera @ifilwtmfc @navs-bhat @buckysgirl-12 @comfitchaotic @youknownothingjohnwatson @rnurse-kole

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 17

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 16

next 18

(q/a for any confused readers!!)

making the potion wasn't difficult. after getting all the ingredients, you set it up, leaving it to bubble for a few days. during the time it brewed, you spent a lot of time with mia. talking and learning more about each other. sharing secrets, worries, pasts. long nights were spent in soft moments just talking together.

"hey, do you want some tea, mia?"

she looked up from the book she was reading, smiling sweetly as she nodded.

"yes please, thank you!"

you made the tea, sitting down next to her once it was done. she shifted, pressing against your side with a soft hum. she rested her head on your shoulder, the book tilted so you can read if you want.

"how far are you along?"

"about halfway? i just got past the part where the hero got lost."

you hummed, taking a sip from the tea before passing it to her.

"oh? thats right before it takes off."

she put down the book, trading it for the mug of tea.

"then i should take a break now so i can pay attention to you, huh?"

you huffed, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

"you don't have to pay attention to me. i'll have to get up in a little bit to check the potion."

she hummed, a beat of silence passing before she spoke again.

"... you said that all magic has a consequence, right?"

that woke you up, your blood running cold at her words. you knew you'd have to have this conversation eventually. wanted to have it from the beginning so she would understand. but now... it seemed so serious for the calm night you had been expecting.

"that is correct... i suppose i should explain the consequences of this potion."

you sat up, shifting to face mia. mia mimicked your pose, resting the mug of tea on the table.

"you'll loose all your memories of your soul bound. that includes the visions and if you happened to meet one in this current life. in the future, you won't ever remember them like this again."

"that seems reasonable..."

you nodded, letting out a soft sigh.

"it does, but you'll only know after the fact if it is worth it. you may come to regret it."

you held out your hands, pulling a smile to your lips and squeezing hers when they landed in yours.

"but i'll be here for you, okay?"

she returned your smile, squeezing your hands.

"thank you, really. i-... i was actually thinking about it, and maybe... maybe after i can stay here...?"

you felt a wave of shock come over you, your eyes going wide. mia rushed forward when you didn't say anything right away.

"only if thats okay! i-i just though since i really like it here, that maybe..."

her voice faded out, and you stepped in, shaking off your surprise.

"of course it's okay. having you here... has been amazing really. i didn't realize just how lonely i was till you came here... and honestly?"

you tugged one of her hands up, brushing her knuckles against your lips.

"i would be honored if you stayed here."

mia's face broke out into a wide smile, her arms flying to wrap around your neck, pushing you onto your back from the momentum. you both let out soft laughs, hugging each other and just enjoying each other's presence.

--------------------------------------------------------

you handed mia the glass with hesitation, worried to just how severally it would effect her. she took it gently, glancing between it and your face.

"well, here goes nothing, right?"

you watched her as she downed the glass, the pale pink liquid slowly disappearing down her throat. a long beat passed before she stumbled forward, your quick reflexes catching her. you lead her to sit down, crouching in front of her nervously.

"mia? mia, can you hear me?"

it took a full agonizing 5 minutes before her eyes fluttered open, a hazy look in her eyes.

"hey, mia. how are you feeling? a-any different?"

she scrunched her nose, slowly pulling away from you.

"...who are you?"

you felt the color drain from your face, smile immediately dropping.

"w-what... mia, this isn't funny."

she furrowed her eyebrows, shifting further away in her seat.

"i'm not trying to be. who are you?"

you swallowed, hesitantly pulling away. you fell back on the ground, falling on your ass with a flop.

what a cruel twist of fate.

"i... i'm no one. just the witch who helped you."

mia's expression shifted, a grateful, but distant look in her eyes.

"oh! it worked? i... i don't remember... only when i got here."

you shook your head, forcing your numb form to rise to your feet, walking toward the kitchen.

"a side effect. you can go now."

she stood up moving toward the door, stopping right before stepping through. she watched you for a moment, hesitating.

"what about paying you?"

you shook your head, turning your back to her.

"you already did. you... gave me what i needed."

she hesitated a moment more before you heard her steps fade away. you stood there a long time, just hearing your blood rushing in your ears. every moment of the past month playing on repeat. gone. it was gone. mia was gone...

you glanced at the rest of the memory potion.

gone...

--------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo @mephisto-with-a-knife @poptrim @rhoswen-drake @szafficat @1ren3n @peachystea

hey loves!!

theres just a little bit left for your myth card and then it'll be back to the current timeline. it's like, a paragraph or two and thats it!

thank you for all the support, it means a lot!

for your relationship with mia, it is up to you how you interpret it. it can be platonic or romantic, i think i left it general enough. but she is important to you, so sorry if you were after an enemy!! (soul bound bff or lover)

if it isn't obvious, i probably suck at writing angst or drama. the most drama i've had in my life is trying to be friends with a guy who had a crush on me. (don't do it!! it's bad!! trust me!!)

anywho, random chara lore ig

thank you for reading!!

-chara <3

[upset-to-dead]

How I imagine Snow's progression of being reminded of Lucy Gray throughout the Hunger Games trilogy

1. Katniss volunteers. How cute. She has no chance of living past the bloodbath. Her name sounds familiar.

2. Katniss scores an 11 in training. So what she shot an arrow at the game makers. Well, that 11 will put a target on her and she's no match for the rest.

3. Peeta reveals he is in love with Katniss. What an interesting angle. Definitely some kind of ploy. Viewership will be up, as well as sponsors. Interesting to see how this plays out.

4. Katniss is trapped by the careers and Peeta. Aw, look, she dropped a hive on her boyfriend. Looks like she doesn't like him after all.

5. Katniss allies with Rue. Odd, and a terrible choice for an ally.

6. Rue mentions her pin, a mockingjay. The connection is made. Katniss, that swamp potato dug up by Lucy Gray and her mockingjays that still infest the districts. His dislike for Katniss grows.

7. Rue dies and Katniss sings the Meadow Song to her. A jolt runs up his spine. That old song, sung to Maude Ivory by Lucy Gray. It's still around in District 12 and now it's on national television. Snow knows how much the Capitol loves singing tributes.

8. The new rules are announced. This will be interesting. Of course, there's no way Peeta will live long enough for there to actually be two victors.

9. Katniss and Peeta are in the cave, and Peeta begins to recover. The huge influx of sponsored gifts is concerning. Katniss will hopefully die at the Feast trying to get medicine.

10. Peeta makes a full recovery. That wasn't supposed to happen, but the Capitol loves it.

11. Cato dies. Seneca didn't think they'd get this far. Time to revoke the rule change. Katniss will kill Peeta or vice versa. These children barely know each other, and in the Games they resort to their basic human nature of violence. Oh look, she's even pointing her bow at him.

12. The berries. The double victory. Seneca Crane is a dead man. They have outsmarted the idiot game makers. Snow is once again reminded of his cheating in order to help Lucy Gray win. How well that turned out for her in the end.

13. After the games. Snow is certain they are putting on an act to survive and meanwhile, defy the Capitol. Peeta is good with the crowd and is quick witted. So much like Lucy Gray. Katiss is impulsive and heartfelt. So much like Sejanus.

14. Snow learns Katniss hunts in the woods, he possibly traces her lineage, and he finds out everything he can about her. Snow takes measures to quell the rebellion brewing and control Katniss and Peeta throughout Catching Fire.

15. Katniss's wedding dress burns away into a Mockingjay dress. That damn bird again.

16. The force field gets blown out, and tributes escape. Snow recalls when the 10th Hunger Games arena was bombed.

17. Katniss's first propo is televised in the districts, declaring herself the Mockingjay. He should have killed all those birds when he had a chance.

18. The Hanging Tree propo airs. He'd almost forgotten Lucy Gray's songs. How could this girl, now, know them? The song was banned, Lucy Gray was dead. She was dead, right?

19. The rebels in District 5 sing the Hanging Tree while blowing up the damn. Chills run up his spine as he watches the live feed. A crowd of an indiscernable number flood the walkways to the hydro dam. They're singing a song they didn't know yesterday. A song no one knew until now. A song that was as dead as Lucy Gray. Except, she wasn't dead. How could she be, if her song is still sung? The dam blows and the lights go out in the Capitol. Snow half expects the ghost of Lucy Gray herself to appear before him.

20. The war is over. The Mockingjay has won. She appeared from nowhere, echoing the songs of Lucy Gray like the birds themselves. Well played, Lucy Gray. Well played.

[persevereforahappyending]

A Beacon in the Dark |21|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 4.4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

You let out a sigh as you smoothed out your wrinkle free shirt. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, black shirt, black pants, black shoes, it might have been too much black. You glanced back at the shirts laid out on your bed, a white one, a navy one, and a maroon one. You had tried them all on multiple times, standing and turning in the mirror like one of them would suddenly magically speak to you. They were all inherently the same, a simple long-sleeved button-down shirt, the only difference was the color. A shirt color could change everything though, if you wore the wrong one you could clash with Joeys outfit, or it could clash with the rest of your outfit.

You glanced down, maybe the shirt didn’t matter, maybe the problem was the pants or even the shoes. Your eyes slid over to the dresser that held your pants, the drawer with the nicer dress pants still open and a couple pant legs hanging out from when you started digging around in there. There were colors to match each of the shirts, though you thought doing so would have been a bit much. There were also a couple different shades of black that had you beginning to debate whether everything truly went with black, or if it was certain shades of black that made them different. There was a chance you were just wearing the wrong shade of black and if you changed your pants to the right shade then the rest of the outfit would come together.

“You’re spiraling,” Grace’s voice cut through your internal debate about pants and shades of black.

You jumped at her voice, your eyes instantly finding hers in the mirror. She had made her way into your room and stood directly behind you. Grace gave you a knowing smile and turned you around so you could no longer see yourself. She ran her hands over your shoulders and down your arm, brushing off the invisible dust.

“I just want everything to be perfect,” you mumbled.

It had been a little bit since you asked Joey out and now it was finally time. There were no monsters, it wasn’t a school night, and a neighbor was going to come stay with Caleb for a few hours. You had chosen a nice restaurant, the kind of place that would turn you away for wearing a t-shirt and jeans. You didn’t want to go too fancy, you didn’t want to get there and not be able to pronounce a single thing on the menu or when the waiter brought out the course look down only to find out it would be consumed in two bites.

“It’ll be fine,” Grace said, giving you a soft smile.

You let out a shaky breath and glanced down at your outfits one last time. It wasn’t a bad outfit, but you weren’t sure if it was good enough for a first date.

“You look fine,” Grace said. You flicked your eyes up giving her an unsure look.

“You have been on a date before, right?” Grace joked.

You huffed out a laugh, flexing your fingers to stop the shaking. “It’s been a while,” you admitted.

You flirted. You did that all the time. Whether it was for a job to get close to a target or just for fun, you had no issues flirting. You had done the same when you first met Joey and several times since then. Flirting didn’t mean anything though, it was just good fun. But a date was real. It’s what you wanted sure, but that didn’t mean you were in any way prepared for it to happen.

“I’m sure you remember how to do it,” Grace said. “It’s just Joey.” You let out a nervous chuckle. She was right, it was just Joey but on the other hand, it was Joey.

“What are you getting up to tonight while I’m gone?” You asked, trying to distract your mind with something new.

You turned around, facing the mirror again so Grace could smooth out the back of your shirt. “I have a lead I’m going to run down.”

Your eyes snapped up. Grace was still smoothing out your shirt, not seeming to hear her own words. When she finally finished, she looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “It’s nothing,” Grace assured. “I’ll be fine.”

You held her gaze, not at all convinced. Grace was more than capable, she was absolutely terrifying, her own one-woman army. You still didn’t like when she went off on her own, especially tonight when you would be away and not easily able to get to her if needed.

“I’ve done this before,” she said. You sucked in a breath; she had been doing this a lot longer than you.

She turned you around, her eyes softening as she now stared directly into your own. “Enjoy your date,” she said. “You deserve it.” You opened your mouth, but she shook her head, clearly not wanting to hear any excuse you’d come up with. “It’s just a lead. I’ll be fine.”

Your jaw twitched as a battle raged in your head. You finally let out a defeated sigh when Grace gave you a pointed look, there was no arguing with her. “Call if something feels off,” you whispered. “Please?”

You wanted tonight to be perfect; you had it all planned out. You wouldn’t hesitate to leave mid-dinner if Grace needed you though. Joey would understand. She probably wouldn’t be happy, and it might cost you from ever getting a date with her again, but she’d understand.

“Fine,” Grace reluctantly agreed. “Now go,” she nodded towards the door. “You can’t be late for your first date.”

You huffed out a laugh but hesitated to move. She gave you a pointed look that finally got you moving. You were going to try making the best of the night, but you had a feeling your mind would be focused on what Grace was doing over anything else.

When you got to your car you turned up the radio, attempting to focus on the music and drown out any worries about Grace. She would be fine, you didn’t even know what the lead was. If it was dangerous, Grace would have told you. She could be meeting with someone she’s familiar with that might have information, she could be doing a small stakeout. Just because she was following a lead alone didn’t mean it was inherently dangerous.

It seemed music failed at distracting your mind because before you knew it you were pulling up outside Joey’s apartment and your mind had yet to stop thinking about Grace. You turned off the car and took a deep breath in and then out, tonight was all about Joey, everything would be fine.

You looked around, suddenly realizing you didn’t get flowers or anything of the sort. You let your head flop against the steering wheel. Flowers were classic and yet you managed to forget them. You weren’t even on the date officially and you were already screwing it up.

You dragged yourself out of the car since Joey agreed to allowing you to properly pick her up at her door. You gave yourself a once over, smoothing out your shirt one last time before making your way to the door. You checked the time for the hundredth time, making sure you weren’t too early. You knew you wouldn’t be late; you spent an embarrassing amount of time making sure that didn’t happen, but you didn’t want to be showing up to her doorstep over half an hour early.

When you got to the door you let out a shaky breath before gently knocking. It was just Joey. You knew Joey. Joey was fun. Joey pretended she didn’t like you but secretly tolerated you. You spent time together. You spent so much time together. You knew each other. More importantly she knew you. She was the one person you didn’t have to worry about learning your secret. She saw you. She saw the worst version of you, and she was still willing to go out with you, more important she allowed you to meet her son.

“Hey,” Joey greeted as she opened the door.

Your mouth fell open, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of her. You didn’t even notice her still putting her earrings on. She was wearing a sleek black dress, it hung off her shoulders, and the long sleeves somehow made it stylish yet sophisticated. You swallowed a lump, suddenly aware how underdressed you were compared to her.

“You, okay?” She asked, snapping you out of your daze.

You cleared your throat but still couldn’t seem to form any words. You gave a shake of your head, you forgot flowers and you had yet to greet her, you were off to a great start so far. Joey raised an eyebrow, giving you a hesitant look.

“You’re just…” you managed to finally get out. “You look…” your eyes respectfully raked over her body. “You…” you sucked in a breath, but it was as if the wind was knocked out of you. “Wow.”

Joey ducked her head down, her body shaking with silent laughter. You straightened your back, maybe you hadn’t completely ruined everything yet.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she complimented when she finally looked at you again.

You huffed out a laugh. You knew she was just being nice; she was wearing what she was, and you were in a shirt and pants, you hardly compared to her.

“Are you ready?” You asked. “If not, no rush I-”

Joey rested a hand on your arm and anything else you might have said quickly died. “Let me just grab my bag,” she said.

The door closed as she went to grab her bag. You couldn’t help but rock back and forth on your feet as you waited for her return. It was only a moment before Joey was exiting, a small black bag that matched her dress slung over her shoulder.

You silently held out your arm for her to grab. She looked at it then back up at you before wrapping her arm around it. You tried not to visibly show how happy her accepting your arm made you, but based on the small smile on her face you failed. You led her down to your car and even made sure to open the door for her.

You drove in silence, the only sound coming from the radio. “You know you didn’t have to go all out like this,” Joey said. “I’d have been happy with pizza and a movie.”

“Good to know,” you said. That definitely sounded like a great date idea, but that was a future date when you knew her taste in movies. If you took her to one on her first date, you’d want to make sure it was something she’d enjoy.

“But I didn’t go all out,” you clarified.

You didn’t want her to think you were trying too hard. You weren’t. You really didn’t go all out. Part of you wanted to but you knew that would be a bad idea. You kept things simple but nice. That’s what a first date should be.

You got lucky finding a spot on the street to park that was only a couple minutes’ walk from the restaurant. When you got out of the car you ran around to the other side, opening the door for Joey before she could do it for herself. She gave you a grateful smile and even took your hand when you offered it to help her out of the car.

You walked to the restaurant, Joey not taking her hand off your arm until you reached the front door. You gave your name to the hostess and instantly the server was leading the two of you to a table. The two of you were seated at a table for two, pressed against the wall towards the back of the restaurant, close to the bar but not so close that your conversation would be drowned out by the noise.

You mouthed a thank you as the server handed each of you a menu and left to get you both waters. Before either of you could even open your mouths, the server was back, placing a glass of water in front of each of you and a basket of bread in the middle of the table with a little silver platter next to it.

You lifted the tiny lid of the platter and hummed at the sight of a couple packs of butter. “Fancy,” you commented. Joey chuckled at you as you grabbed one of the packs and a piece of the already sliced bread. “This is probably the fanciest place I’ve ever been.”

Joey shook her head as she continued to scan over the menu. “You didn’t need to do all this,” she said.

She looked around, her eyes scanning over the exposed brick walls and the dim lighting. The pristine white tablecloths over every table only helped to set the romantic mood. Everyone around them was dressed just as nice if not nicer than them. Everyone was coupled up, there were no groups getting together for a business meeting or to celebrate someone’s birthday, and there were no children running around, it was all couples on a date, maybe for the first time like you and Joey, or celebrating an anniversary of some sort.

You shrugged. “But you deserve it,” you whispered, quickly dropping your head back to your own menu.

You skimmed over the menu. You were right, you could pronounce everything on the menu. However, there were some items that though you figured out how to pronounce, you had no idea what they actually were. By the time the server returned you had decided on something you were familiar with while Joey ordered some sort of pasta dish.

“So,” you said, tapping your fingers against the table. “What’s new?”

Joey raised an unimpressed eyebrow as you. “That’s the best you got?” She asked. “Is this like your first date ever?”

You huffed out a laugh as you tried to hide your reddening cheeks. “It’s been a while.”

“How long?”

You glanced up, trying to decipher is she was serious. She raised an expectant eyebrow at you, telling you she did in fact want you to answer the question. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “A few years?” You furrowed your brow. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“Wait…” Joey scrunched her eyebrows together as if she was trying to work something out. “A few years?” You nodded. “Does that mean you haven’t dated anyone since you turned?”

You gave a small nod, keeping your eyes glued to the small fork on the table. “I mean…” you shrugged. “It’s not like I can keep it a secret forever and do you know anyone willing to put up with something like that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Your eyes finally flicked up to meet Joey’s. “Well, clearly you’re crazy.” That brought a laugh out of her, making you smile.

You weren’t wrong though. A normal person would rightfully run away the second they learned what you were, actually they’d probably run just from all the secrets being kept. And any sane person would run after you almost killed them. Joey clearly wasn’t normal though.

“Why did you agree to go out with me after…” you trailed off, not wanting to say something someone could overhear.

Joey brought her water glass to her lips, clearly wanting to drag this out. She didn’t even look at you until she sat the glass back down on the table. “Because you’re good,” she said, as if it were so simple.

She spoke as if it were true. You’d never define yourself as good, there was no way you could be good after everything you’ve done. Good people didn’t have blood on their hands.

“You’re kind and caring,” Joey continued. “And I told myself I wasn’t looking for anyone. I was done with relationships. The only thing I cared about was focusing on Caleb.” You smiled at that, even before meeting her you could tell how hard Joey was working on prioritizing Caleb. “And you understood that,” Joey whispered. “I know I stressed about getting to him on time but even when I didn’t you always made sure I was where I needed to be.”

You shrugged. It was the least you could do, she was putting her life in danger every time she went on a job with you. You didn’t even think about it half the time, you were just aware of what time it was and knew where and when Caleb needed to be picked up. You weren’t even sure when you learned the schedule like that.

“So, despite what I wanted,” Joey sighed. “You somehow managed to win me over just by being your stupidly charming self.”

You gave a shy smile at that. You weren’t sure what to say, you had never been complimented so much. You didn’t think Joey would like you trying to disagree with her, even though you did in fact disagree with her on more than half of what she said.

“So,” you leaned forward, whispering as if you were going to reveal a secret. “Since we’re on an official date.” Joey furrowed her brow but learned across the table so she could hear you. “Am I allowed to call you Ana?”

Joey slumped back into her seat with a playful eye roll. You gave her an innocent grin, hoping to convince her. She let out a tired sigh as if she were exasperated by your antics.

“I guess I can allow that,” she finally conceded, but not without adding another eye roll.

A second later the server came out with the food, setting delicious looking plates in front of both of you. She offered a bottle of wine which you politely declined. If Joey wasn’t going to drink, then you wouldn’t as well.

Over the course of dinner conversation flowed effortlessly. You answered any questions Joey had, though she seemed to be keeping it casual for now, focusing on things like your favorite movie and what not. You made sure to ask her the same questions but also ask about Caleb and how he was doing. She went on and on about him, telling you more about their time at the carnival and even some things she hoped to do with him in the future.

Toward the end of dinner, the server came back around, setting a smaller dessert menu in front of each of you. There were only a handful of options, all of which sounded delicious. You and Joey each chose a dessert and continued talking as you waited for them to come out.

The dessert came out ready and perfect within minutes. You practically inhaled yours because one second it was in front of you and the next it was all gone. Joey took her time, eating her dessert like a normal human instead of devouring it like an animal.

When the server brought the check, you snatched it up before Joey even had time to turn her head. You could feel her shooting you a glare as you tucked your card in the sleeve and handed it all back to the server before she even had the chance to leave the table.

You gave Joey an innocent smile. “How’s your dessert?” you asked.

She gave you a disapproving look as she finished chewing. “It’s delicious,” she finally answered.

When the server came back you quickly signed your name and left a decent sized tip. By the time you were done Joey had finished her dessert and was ready to go. You offered her your arm and led her out of the booth and then the restaurant. The two of you naturally slowed your pace as you made your way back to the car.

When you finally reached your car you opened the door for Joey, doing a dramatic gesture for her to get in. She rolled her eyes but there was a smile on her face as she stepped up into the Jeep. You hopped in the driver’s side and went on your way, glancing at the clock only once to see that you’d be getting Joey back at a reasonable hour.

The two of you drove back in a comfortable silence. Whenever you glanced out of the side of your eye you saw Joey looking out the window and up at the lights of the city. She had a small smile on her face, one that she didn’t wear too often, it was like you were seeing a secret part of her.

All too soon you were pulling up to her apartment and your night was coming to an end. You turned off the car and ran around to the other side to open the door for her once again. You held out your hand to help her out and then hand in hand you walked her into her apartment complex and all the way up to her apartment.

The two of you stood outside her door, you flexed your hand that was currently in hers. The faint sound of some show, it seemed to be a cartoon of some sort, could be heard. Joey looked at her door where the sound was coming from and rolled her eyes. You didn’t imagine Joey being strict with bedtimes and such things with Caleb, but you’d wager a guess that he was up much later than he usually was.

“I had fun tonight,” you whispered. “I hope you enjoyed it as well.” Your eyes dropped to the floor, she didn’t let on to anything throughout dinner but part of you wondered if she actually enjoyed it or if tonight only showed her how much she doesn’t want this with you.

“I had fun as well,” Joey said. Your eyes lit up as you snapped them back to her. “Probably the best date I’ve ever been on.”

You weren’t sure how much praise that actually was considering her ex, but you would take it, and it was doing wonders for your ego at the moment. “Does that mean I’ve earned myself a goodnight kiss?”

Joey rolled her eyes and without a word leaned forward and captured your lips. Unlike the first time you were prepared, instantly leaning forward and melting into her touch. You rested a hand on her hip, holding her steady while she gripped your shirt. The kiss was soft and slow and the complete opposite of your first kiss. It had only lasted a few seconds but in the moment, it felt like forever.

“Be careful getting home,” Joey whispered against your lips. She stole one more quick kiss before disappearing through her apartment door, leaving you dazed with a stupid smile on your face in the hallway.

You never lost that smile as you walked back to the car and even on the drive back to Grace’s. You barely remembered the drive back; it all passed in a blur. The next thing you knew you were parking in your usual spot outside of the mansion and making your way up the stone steps to the front door.

When you pushed open the front door you furrowed your brow, tilting your head, it was completely silent. You quickly made your way towards Grace’s office, not even bothering to knock as you burst through the door.

Your eyes scanned the room. Grace obviously wasn’t there. She was running down a lead, something she had done plenty of times, something she would have been done with before the end of your date. You homed in on the papers scattered across her desk. When you rounded the desk you brushed the papers aside, getting a look at the map and Grace’s handwritten notes. She had an address written down and an area circled on the map, it was still in New York, maybe an hour’s drive at most, she should have been back by now.

You were already slipping your phone out of your pocket as you clicked on her laptop. You clicked on Grace’s name without even looking, she was your only emergency contact after all. You tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you typed in Grace’s password. Several links popped up when the call went to voicemail. You dropped the phone back into your hand, Grace never sent you to voicemail, not when one of you was out in the field.

“Where are you?” you asked. “I’m going to call until you answer me.” You started clicking the windows she had open on her laptop, trying to figure out exactly what she was investigating. “If you don’t call me back in five minutes I’m coming after you.” You ended the call and proceeded to call again.

It went to voicemail again. So, you called again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Your gripped tightened around the phone as you heard Grace’s voicemail once again. It had been ten minutes, and you had no idea how many times you had called her. Every single call rang until going to voicemail.

You let out a growl and shoved the stack of books on the right side of the desk to the floor. You closed your eyes and gripped both sides of the table, you could hear your claws lightly scratching the wood as you tried to focus on your breathing.

You released a shaky breath and finally opened your eyes. You could feel your teeth wanting to come out, but your claws had retracted. You tapped your phone again and scrolled to the only other contact you had saved.

“What’s wrong?” Joey answered after two rings.

“Grace is gone,” you said. You still couldn’t tell what she was investigating but it involved a house out in the middle of nowhere, the same place circled on the map. You sent the location she had pinned on her laptop to your phone. “I’m going after her.”

“Pick me up on the way.”

You opened your mouth but could only let out a huff. You didn’t want to seem too controlling by telling her she couldn’t come with you. You didn’t know what you were walking into though, Grace could handle herself and it seemed something had gotten the jump on her.

“I’m going with you,” Joey said, leaving no room for you to argue.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’ll be there in twenty.” You hung up before Joey could question you. She did not live that close, but nothing was going to stop you from making it back to her apartment in that time frame.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @thatshyboy1998 @chxrryxcx

@bella423 @morganismspam23 @pianogirl2121 @sadoutlaw @pohtaytoh

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Tale of the Cursed Raven -- Author’s Notes & Afterthoughts

The full series:

Part 1 I Part 2I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6 I Part 7 I Part 8 | Part 9 I Part 10 I Part 11 I Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

Miss Raven sketch is by shimmeryspark!

Well, it’s been quite the journey but we’ve finally made it to the end of ✨ Raven’s origin saga ✨. It was such a wild experience to write it all and hear your feedback for each installment. I hope that you all enjoyed reading it as much as I loved creating it... and I hope that it sheds more light on why Raven is the way she is.

Now that the series is done, I’m feeling really nostalgic about it (maybe it’s Mis Raven’s enchanted inks working their magic on me)💦 so I wanted to relive the memories a little, and share some of the feelings, insights, and thoughts I had before, during, and after writing the saga.

If you’re interested in reading that, it’ll all be below the cut for your convenience.

“May those who accept their fate be granted happiness, may those who defy their fate be granted glory.” — Edel, Princess Tutu (2002)

The Origins

I’ve always loved stories—more specifically, fairy tales. When I was little, they’d always be on my mind. Actually, they still are to this very day. If I wasn’t reading them, I’d be watching them or thinking about them, making theories and spinning stories of my own.

I loved the fantastical elements, the whimsy of magic and talking animals, the witches and the monsters, the royals and the warriors that protected them... I loved it all. That childhood love of fairy tales followed me into adolescence and adulthood. That’s really where this all began.

Of course, I gravitated towards media that prominently featured elements of, or borrowed from, fairy tales. This would lead me to the rabbit hole that is Twisted Wonderland 😷 (you all knew this was coming). Due to the blank slate nature of the game’s protagonist, Yuu, TWST was ripe for an OC community to crop up.

I saw a lot of unique characters in the fandom, so I wanted to create a character too. However, no matter how hard I tried, I struggled to develop a “Yuu” that I was satisfied with. At times, I even felt uncomfortable because I felt I was either putting too much of myself into “Yuu”, or not enough. It was then that I realized I would have much more fun making a character based on a preexisting story. A theme, a concept—they’d all be pre-set for me, and I could let my imagination run wild from those.

I didn’t want to adapt a character from a Disney movie (say, the Mad Hatter or King Triton). While I had seen many cool interpretations made by other people, I didn’t want to limit myself to personalities and character traits that were already determined by the movies or stories for me. I started looking into fairy tales themselves, looking for a character or a concept vague enough for me to base my OC on—and I found it in the wording of a riddle from Alice in Wonderland.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

It captured the spirit of whimsy I wanted to evoke in the OC. Ah, but there's also an underlying sadness and dread to her character. It's mostly Alice in Wonderland with a whisper of Edgar Allen Poe.

And thus, Raven was born.

Tsunderes — but why???

At first glance, you might look at Raven and label her personality as “tsundere”. It’s a popular trope in Japanese media where a character that is initially cold and harsh shows or develops a warm, friendlier side over time. One problem that I’ve always had with the tsundere archetype is that the media that employ it rarely, if ever, explain the reasoning for why a character is a tsundere. More often than not, tsunderes are used to comedic effect nowadays, with the tsundere characters acting violent towards their supposed love interests—and that’s something that has never really sat well with me. I don’t think that’s necessarily good writing, but I won’t fault the people who do enjoy that kind of thing. I personally prefer it when we get to know the characters and the reasoning behind their personalities and decisions more. Character-driven storytelling is my jam.

Familiar of Zero’s Louise lacks the magical power to back up her noble lineage, and she has an inferiority complex as a result of that. Toradora’s Taiga has a complex family situation which has left her distrustful of others. When writing Raven, I didn’t want her to fall into the trap of “no explanation” tsundere. I wanted to outline a clear reason for why her personality is “hot and cold”, like Louise and Taiga. Even more than that, I wanted Raven’s reason to line up with the concepts of “freedom” and “expression” that tie with her bird and storytelling motifs.

And so, her story started taking shape in my head. (If you want to read more specifics on my thought process, I’d check out this post. I also talk more about the concepts behind her there.)

Her Magic

I wanted to tie in her personality and philosophy into her unique magic too. After all, it's a spell that defines who she is as an individual. In the beginning, Raven was excited about the prospect of writing, as it would help her comes to understand others--however, she struggles to come to grips with their emotions and keeps holding herself at a distance. Only when she empathizes with her characters and with the people around her does her unique magic come into fruition. With it, she can see into others' hearts and rewrite their feelings--that is, if her willpower and coaxing can convince them to.

I didn't want Raven to be a particularly gifted magic user; she's someone that had to work hard to come into her own. I think of her humanoid form as something still awkward and developing, which sometimes interferes with her spellcasting. What really makes Raven shine is her determination, and the strong imagination that pairs with it. All she truly lacks is the ambition and the confidence, things that I hoped would be honed at Night Raven College.

The Characters for the Series

Initially, I wanted to feature a much larger cast of characters. At some point, I was ambitious enough to think I could somehow include every NRC student in the plot... but thank goodness I realized that just wasn’t feasible. I saw the narrative mess that happened whenever a creative piece tried to get too many characters involved. It just made it hard to keep track of and care about anyone on an individual level. Sometimes, it also distracted from the central themes and conflict. Now, that’s not to say that Raven has never canonically engaged with other characters (because she definitely has)! It’s just that those interactions aren’t as important to this story, so I left them out of it.

In hindsight, I’m so glad that I kept the core cast (up to a certain point) small. That way, I could dedicate more of my time writing each of their individual thoughts and emotions. Raven remains the main character throughout, while Rook, Crowley, Jade, and, to some extent, Azul, Floyd, and Octa A, are secondary characters. Idia, Vil, Epel, the Fates, etc., are very much tertiary characters that showed up a few times total 😂 but they all played their parts and still contributed the overall story.

A character that was introduced in part 6 was the timid but well-meaning Octavinelle A-kun (whose name is Kon, like konbu, or Japense kelp). He was actually included as a gag character because I couldn’t think of someone from the main cast for the role he ended up filling. I unintentionally got attached to Kon and decided to bring him back later in the story, because I guess I like the irony of a mob character that lacks eyes having more screen time than two Dorm Leaders (Vil and Idia). I think the inclusion of Kon also really helped the themes of the story, because, in a meta way, he’s like Raven. He’s a “background character” who ended up having time in the spotlight (and even earned himself a small but dedicated fan following), which proves that it’s possible for Raven, who also sees herself as a “background character”, to ascend and become a “main character”.

Speaking of semi-original characters, I also had fun doing my interpretation of the Fates in part 10. I doubt that’s what they’re like in canon and watch TWST prove me wrong, but it was super fun to write regardless of that. I think my favorite thing about them was how they bicker when they’re out of the public eye, but it was also interesting to come up with their idol poses and phrases.

The cast noticeably expands around part 15, and that was a very purposeful move on my end. Raven has had her revelation then, as well as a stronger understanding of how her unique magic works. Art that point, the story shifts from Raven being on the outside looking in to the characters witnessing her tale unfold. It's to indicate that Raven has finally properly begun integrating herself with the stories that she has always isolated herself from. Characters that have previously had smaller roles before (Vil, Idia, Azul) return for a reprise and to add their own context to what's happening now, and the characters never previously mentioned (Lilia, Riddle, Kalim, Leona) give their perspectives as people who had no direct involvement. I wanted to show the shades of familiarity that they have with what Raven's been up to on her lonesome, and how these different kinds of relationships and points of view are all important when looking at a story.

I was very excited to introduce the Enchantress (Estella) as an onlooker that has a tenacious history with Lilia; she's an original character I've been working on and hiding in the shadows until her first appearance late in this saga. Estella is a very complex person, whom I would describe as a mix of the Enchantress (Beauty and the Beast), Giselle (in both Enchanted and Disenchanted), Isabela (Encanto), Frollo (The Hunchback of Notre Dame), Mother Gothel (Tangled) and Fairy Godmother (Shrek 2). She gives... "tough love", but often acts in morally self-righteous and self-important ways, believing that it is for the "own good" of the people she becomes entangled with. Sadly, I was not able to go into her own background and motives, but someday I'd really like to!

The Plot of the Series

There’s a lot that you don’t see that goes into writing. I went through several iterations of Tale of the Cursed Raven, especially with the rising action and climax. You should see my writing drafts--there’s no rhyme or reason to them! You might see some bullet points to show a sequence of events, but the rest of the document is just random lines or ideas I think would “sound cool” that I just scribbled down while on the bus or something.

When I write a story, I usually know how I want things to begin and how I want them to end, and I have trouble filling in everything that’s in between. I usually took large chunks of time between the release of each installment to review information from the previous part and make sure the continuity carried over to the part I was currently writing.

It was also common for me to write, rewrite, and rewrite the parts again several times over before I actually put it to the public. Sometimes I would almost be done with an installment, and I’d delete it all and start over because I thought of something much better. I’d be irritated with myself in the moment for wasting all that time and hard work, but I think it ended up working out.

sadibasudbad Okay, I want to talk about some of the plot points that I scrapped, because some of them were actually interesting... They just took the story nowhere or caused issues with other things I had planned, so I had to drop them 😅

After Jade’s betrayal is revealed in part 3, I was going to have Raven become Azul’s business rival. Not in the restaurant sense, but more like she would offer similar “wish fulfillment” services as Azul, mostly because she needs something to do to keep herself positive. Her services were going to be called “Fairy Godmothering” and involved sending wishes on slips of paper in little black boxes she placed all over campus. However, she’d probably need a lot of help or strong magic to make that happen, neither of which really applies to her. I guess the tradeoff would have been that Azul offers more but asks for a price, whereas Raven offers less but works for free. She’d write stories as kind of a “road map” or “plan” for how she would personally fulfill her a wish, as opposed to Azul’s contracts, and which required a mutual agreement to the terms. I also didn’t know where to take the story after this point was introduced, so it had to go.

Part 8 was originally going to open with Raven and Riddle having a tea party and catching up. Floyd was going to emerge from some rose bushes with Cater and Trey chasing after him 😂 and Floyd was going to kidnap Raven from there for the boat scene with Jade. Like I mentioned before, I decided to cut this out to keep the number of characters the story had relatively short. (Plus, I guess Floyd would have had to run a shorter distance to the lake if Raven was already in the forest area than if she were all the way in Heartslabyul?)

There was a large hiatus between part 10 and part 11, because a lot of rewrites had to happen for the latter half of the series. Part 11 in particular went through several different versions—one of which would involve Prince Rielle visiting NRC for a magift game and knocking Raven out cold with the frisbee. Because Raven didn’t remember the face of the “prince” that saved her from drowning when she was a bird, I was going to have her mistake Rielle as that “prince” (similar to how Eric mistook Ursula/Vanessa for Ariel). Djsbsjsbshs But I already took a huge chance by writing my interpretation of the Fates, so I didn’t want to also do my interpretation of Rielle in case TWST gives us more details about him later. Rielle is based on a Disney princess, so I thought it was more likely that he got more details revealed about him over of the Fates, and I didn’t want to make my series too reliant on headcanons or unconfirmed information about a character we haven’t even seen yet.

Finally (and this is the biggest change of all), parts 10 through 20 were originally going to be heavily focused on action and adventure. Raven was going leave NRC in search of the Enchantress (who originally cursed the Storyteller several years go) and ask her to lift the curse, and the Enchantress was going to send her on a series of heroic quests to prove that she is “worthy”. But the more I thought about it, the more I thought the scale was too grand 💦 At the end of the day, Raven is just a bird trying to be a normal human girl... and I wanted her development to be more of a traditional coming of age story instead of a literal hero’s journey where she confronts dragons and saves villages. Something more down-to-earth makes her more relatable, so I went with that route instead of the action-adventure one.

I don’t know if you noticed, but the saga happens alongside the events of the main story (as some main story events, such as Overblots, are referenced). The last 5ish parts happen around the transition from the Ignihyde arc to the Diasomnia arc, sooo... :)) You can think what you like about whether Raven’s happy ending is reality or a dream conjured up by Malleus~

I argued with myself a lot while writing the series, especially about the ending. I had a lot of my friends (and readers, too) telling me “you’d better not kill Raven” and “Raven and Jade should kiss and make up/date each other at the end” (some of which came true, some of which didn’t). I was so conflicted at the time because while I never intended to kill Raven, it was clear that my audience was expecting a perfect “happily ever after”... and I didn’t know if such a conclusion would fit the overall tone of the series. I think what I ended up doing was satisfactory, though. It’s happy, but not overly so, and it keeps the door open for future shenanigans in a light-hearted and hopeful way. I think leaving it open-ended like this suits the theme of the saga and Miss Raven's struggle to find her freedom.

Raven’s Growth and Development

Raven has come so far.

The saga here is written kind of like “oh, this is her main story”, but it’s meant to be supplemented by “vignettes” and “event stories” (ie all the side content of Raven which fleshes out her relationships with other characters). The idea is that all her experiences at NRC helped her to develop her own sense of self, and granted her the confidence to fly in the face of her own fate, which she was once so hopeless about. When I look back on the last few years, I’m amazed at how much of it there is, whether produced by myself, by friends, or by fans. It’s really humbling that I get to share this journey with you all.

Raven used to be scared and shy, a timid bird with little to no understanding of the world, or of the creatures in it. Then she picked up a quill, ink, and paper—and a whole new world opened up to her. Her story is one of how freedom of self expression and creative works can connect us not only with others, but with ourselves. Because of that, Raven was able to grow and become a much more mature person (with the support of her friends and family, of course)!

Just because the saga is over doesn’t mean Raven is suddenly perfect, though. She still very much struggles to be emotionally expressive and honest with her feelings of affection (since she has gone so long burying those), so she’s still got a long way to go in that regard 💦 She also has some lingering self-esteem issues that she’s got to work on. Raven’s always changing...! Always willing to learn! Jade and Rook, please help her—

When people read Tale of the Cursed Raven, I don’t want them to “just see it as a love story” or “TWST OC x TWST Boy” fanfiction 💦 because the focus isn’t just on romance, but on Raven discovering herself, and her voice, in a world that once confused and scared her. It’s not just a story about finding love, it’s also about a girl growing up, gaining confidence, finding new family and friends to support her... It’s a lot of things, and I feel that it’s doing the saga a disservice by calling it just a love story.

I’ve mentioned this a few times before, but while Raven is not meant to be a self-insert character, I feel that her struggles are very relatable and I hope that you, too, can see some part of yourself in her and her journey. A lot of the writing process involved me analyzing and coming to terms with difficult feelings, particularly ones of self-loathing, self-acceptance, coming to terms with emotions, and trying to find one’s place in a world that can be confusing and scary to navigate. I feel that writing Raven’s tale was able to help me through those tough times in my life. For that reason, this saga will always hold a lot of sentimental value to me.

So... What’s next?

There were originally plans for me to make a follow up/spin-off series where Octa A/Kon was the main character. The theme of that series was “even the unnoticed and ordinary can be noticed and extraordinary!” It was going to focus on Kon and his mob student friends (one from each dormitory), along with their struggles of being “noticed” (as they are often just one face in a sea of mob students) and “fitting in” with their respective dorm’s ideals. I think it would have been a series that resonated a lot with introverts and people who see themselves as “less than” others or as “not fitting in” with others’ expectations. I might still do this, but it would probably be another huge project that would take months of planning and revision.

Another idea I had was to write a series of stories that are just flashbacks of Raven’s life prior to Night Raven College, whether as a bird or whether as the Storyteller’s apprentice. I also considered writing in-depth about how the Storyteller was originally cursed, and about the Enchantress responsible for it. I would like to get into her backstory and her motivations for spinning the Storyteller’s curse to begin with. (Maybe I’ll do those as blog anniversary or follower milestone specials?) Some friends of mine also jokingly suggested I write a sequel series focused on Raven and her relationship with L*ONA 🤢 dfhlbahefvqoeuq Lots of ideas, lots of possibilities!

As for Raven, she’s definitely not going away just because her origin saga is done. She’s still the beloved poster child of this blog, so of course I want to continue writing about her! It’s just that she’ll be a little freer to speak her mind now that her curse has been lifted. After all, "the end" is just "the beginning" of another story!

I kind of feel like a proud parent, seeing my bird daughter growing up, making friends, finding love, and developing her own sense of agency and independence 😭 I’m excited to see where this next chapter of Raven’s life takes us.

Before I sign off, I’d like to thank you, dear readers, for following Miss Raven’s story until the very end. None of this would be possible without you!

[starscreambbymama]

There's something that's so gross Sarah J Maas writes how the three flying mole rats with wings view the Illyrians in her books that either her stans vehemently ignore or outright wish not to acknowledge.

1. Rhysand-He doesn't care about his Illyrian side yet only when it will benefit him in the long run in order to get what he wants in the end. He doesn't respect the illyrians let alone who they are as individuals yet what they can provide for him. He acknowledges the illyrians strength but not in a way of respect but what that strength can do for him and his court only. He is 100% okay knowing that his wife has physically changed her body to have an Illyrian woman's anatomy on when it benefits her, knowing that the wind clipping is still an ongoing problem. Knowing that the Illyrian women and girls are being bodily harmed from this practice. Sure you can argue and play devil's advocate that Rhysand has told the Illyrians to stop the wing clipping but what are the consequences? What consequences has he put in place that tells the Illyrians "I do not stand for this. My court does not stand for this. Not now or ever. And if you continue these are the consequences" but he won't do that, he'd much rather say that he wants change and yet will not get the ball rolling and get the job done and just do the bare minimum and wipe his hands of the problem.

2. Cassian & Azriel-Both of these two characters, unlike Rhysand are both full Illyrian. Yet Azriel vehemently detests his own race due to his own childhood trauma, even extending that hate to Illyrians that he doesn't even know that well due to said traume resulting in creating his own generalization, prejudice and internalized racism of the same group he was born from. Azriel has made it completely clear he doesn't give two single shits about Illyria and would rather anyone that is Illyrian (save for Rhysand and Cassian) to be completely wiped out on the face of Prythian. Cassian himself while being proud to be Illyrian is so blindly faithful to the same person who allows Illyria to be the way that it is now. Just as Rhysand he talks up and down about how he hates the wing clipping (the equivalency of genital mutilation toward girls and women in real life). While both he, Azriel (even though it's contradictory for him to care give his detest for the Illyrians) and Rhysand advocate to have the Illyrian women trained in combat, I ask how does this help the situation? The wing clipping is still gonna happen regardless given the fact there aren't any consequences set up if the act continues. The Illyrian women are expected to do jobs such as the cooking, cleaning,making the clothes, doing the laundry, giving birth to children and tending to the children. And with what we know, Illyrian men aren't okay with Illyrian women or their wives training whatsoever and they wouldn't really have a say in it either so the wives are ruled out. In addition to the act their wings are clipped and basically useless given the fact Illyrian wings are used during combat as well. So it only leaves left for the only that qualify to be Illyrian girls who haven't gotten their first period yet. From the book it states that Rhysand's mother didn't have her's until she was 18 due to restricting her diet from the clipping happening. And Mor had her period around the time that she was 17 so we can chalk up to Illyrian girls getting their period around 17 and the age range for the Illyrians to begin training is about 8-9. So I'm guessing the age range would be 8-16 years old and stop there. Also, going back to the point of the tasks the Illyrian girls have to do strenuous activities day by day on top of having to go an do training when they're done. They're going to be tired and exhausted after doing all of that. Also, what if the illyrians girls don't want to train? What if they want to do other things like poetry, painting, playing an instrument, dancing, fishing, riding horses, swimming, making flower chains, flying, reading, archery, pottery, playing, whatever they want to do? What about their choices? The training isn't a solution that the Illyrian women and girls want, it's a solution that Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel think tat they would want. And yet these three are considered the "good ones" out of all the Illyrians by the author and the fandom makes me sick. Yet of course it is this way given the fact SJM has written an entire group and put them in a box with a culture that defines them as being violent, barbaric, misogynists that only view their women as breeding stock.

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 16

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters

It’d been a week since she said it.

“I think we need to just be friends.”

And Chris had tried. God, he swore he tried.

He didn’t call the first two days. Let her breathe. Let her pretend like she wasn’t still burned into the inside of his brain, like he didn’t hear her voice every time he closed his eyes.

Day three? He caved. Sent a “you good?” text and threw his phone across the room the second it sent.

She didn’t answer.

Day five, he saw her post with Ava and liked it so fast his finger stung.

Nothing back.

But now it was day seven, and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

So he called.

And when she picked up and sighed, all tired and guarded, and said, “What do you want, Chris?” in that voice she used when she was holding back the whole damn ocean—

He didn’t hesitate.

“Let’s hang out. Just us. As friends. Please.”

A beat.

Then another.

“…Fine.”

⸻

The carnival was too bright. Too loud. Too much.

And he still made her feel like the only person there.

“So, what do you wanna do?” He said looking around confused.

Y/N gave a small shrug. “You’re the one who begged me to come. You decide.”

He didn’t reply. Just reached for her wrist and tugged her toward the Tilt-a-Whirl.

⸻

She screamed through the spins, clinging to the metal bar between them, knees bumping. Her laugh slipped out somewhere mid-ride, unguarded, and Chris turned to her mid-spin like it was the first time he’d ever heard it.

“You’ve got the best fucking laugh,” he said without thinking, cheeks pink.

She looked away fast. “You sound high.”

He grinned. “Just high on trauma and unprocessed feelings, baby.”

“Classic fuck boy shit.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem.”

⸻

She somehow convinced chris to do the photo booth next. She shoved a handful of cotton candy into his mouth mid-pic. He retaliated by smearing blue sugar across her cheek.

Somehow, those photos became her new favorite thing.

The tension hung between them like static. Almost gentle. Like maybe they were close to being something again.

But of course, the universe didn’t let it last.

They were headed toward the Ferris wheel, her arm brushing his as they walked, and for a second, it felt easy.

Until it didn’t.

Some guy brushed past them and smacked her ass.

Hard.

Y/N’s whole body jerked.

Chris’s vision went red.

“What the—”

Before he could think, his fists were already moving.

“You wanna touch my girl?” he snapped, voice sharp and deadly. 

The guy stumbled back, caught off guard, but swung back fast, landing a hit to Chris’s jaw. It barely phased him. They went back and forth, a blur of fists and swearing.

“Chris—Chris, stop!” she yelled, grabbing at his hoodie, trying to pull him back.

“Yeahhh, stay still bitch i’m not done with you. Don’t ever touch my fucking girl again.” he snarled, eyes wild.

Y/N shoved her way between them, hands on his chest. “He’s not fucking worth it! Stop!”

It took everything in her to drag Chris away, both of them panting as she yanked him behind one of the food stalls.

The glow of the carnival lights bled through the slats in the wooden stand, casting them in sharp shadows.

She turned to face him, chest heaving.

“The fuck was that?”

Chris wiped blood from his lip, still breathing hard. “What the fuck do you mean?”

“Why would you do that?”

He stared at her. Really stared. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet. Honest.

“C’mon, Y/N. Just ‘cause you stamped the friend label on this shit doesn’t mean I’d ever let someone touch you like that.”

She blinked.

And for a second, her heart stopped beating.

Chris took a step closer. His voice was softer now. Warmer. Like it was just them and the world didn’t exist.

“You think this is just about liking you? It’s not.”

He shook his head, staring down at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the goddamn world.

She didn’t breathe.

“You’re it, Y/N. And maybe I didn’t know what to do with that at first. But I do now. Nothing—no one—is ever gonna touch you like that. Not while I’m breathing.”

Something inside her cracked open.

Because it wasn’t the words. It was the way he said them.

Like she was the only person who ever mattered.

She stepped forward, eyes on his.

“You’re so fucking dumb,” she whispered.

He grinned. “Yeah, but you like that, don’t you?”

Her hands curled into his hoodie. His breath hitched.

And then she kissed him.

Hard.

Like it meant everything. Like she’d been dying for this and didn’t even know it.

Chris kissed her back with a hunger that felt like apology, like promise, like everything he never got to say.

Her hands were in his hair. His were locked around her waist, like he was anchoring himself to her.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, the world was quiet.

Silent.

Breathing hurt.

Chris was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please let me make this right. Let me take you on a real date. Do it how I should’ve done it from the start.”

Y/N looked up at him.

Didn’t say anything.

Just nodded.

And he finally exhaled.

His arms wrapped around her as he kissed the top of her head, holding her like she was something fragile. Something important.

Because she was.

His. Dream. Girl.

And this time?

He wasn’t letting her go.

a/n: oh my shayla’s… FIRST REAL DATE. taglist:

@courta13 @m4gz-png @lezleeferguson-120

@h3arts4nat @izzylovesmatt @sturnioliolo @hsemeria @sturniqloo

@venusbabysblog @chrisslut04 @crazy4weeed @chriscokewhore @chrisswaffles @urfavvvnyasee @sturnzluv @freshluvr @mattthemunchh @poolover123 @pleasantdelusionbear @carpentersturns @emosexyvirgin @emillionaireee @shamelessmilkshakefest @xoxochrissgf @sturniolodollx @joyfulheartwhispers @cutseylady @oopsiedaisydeer @steph1106

@laylaluvsu2000 @lvrsturniolo @chloe444 @yamommmasman @55sturn @whenlovesaround @luvs-booksss @vampyyluv @snowysosturn @moth-feeet @mx7ka @amb-3-r @ncm9696 @alinagrace11 @cherryystemm @bblbilly @d3vwrlds @chrismybouncyhouse @mattslvrxo @iluvchr1s

[littleemissperfecttt]

Changing Destiny

About the story: A sudden tragedy in your life leads you to getting reincarnated in your favorite book of all time "Fourth wing". Now you are determined to save lives and change the destiny of your favorite character's. The question is will you succeed in changing their destiny?

<<Prologue Chapter Index Next Chapter>>

Chapter 1

19 years later….

It has been 19 years since I was reborn in this universe and everything has gone according to plan

I made sure Dain listens to me more than our “father” I played the act of a very innocent younger sister who loves her brother so much. I did start loving Dain as a big brother eventually. I am his only blood sibling and reading fourth wing I realised the boy only needed love

Since my father doesn’t care about my life I am entering the Basgaith War College a year earlier than expected why? I want to meet Liam and change his fate first

I made sure I was Violets best friend throughout our lives so she is like family to me now more than a character in a book I read in my previous life

I am now looking for my brother as I crossed the Parapet with Violet. I already met Rhiannon which was a blessing it took everything in me to stop fangirling over her. Rhiannon sure is hot as hell

“Y/n! Violet!” I heard my brother say before coming near us “What are you doing here?” he asked Violet as he continued “I didn’t know father would agree to such reckless thing sending you a year before what were you thinking!?” he asked me as he gripped my arm

“One question at a time brother” I told him with a soft voice as I let Violet explain on how her mother- General Sorrengail- forced her to join the quadrant ‘he’s going to act all high and mighty now’ I thought to myself as I remember the book Dain throwing a fit trying to make Violet go to the scrib exam forcefully

“Brother before you say anything” I started as soon as Violet ended her explanation as I don’t have time to listen to Dain throwing what I call a tantrum “Violet wants to be here fair and square she crossed the parapet on her own so DO NOT underestimate her at any cost nor try to force your thoughts on her!” I glared at him

He sighed after hearing that “of course you’d say that why are YOU here again? Weren’t you supposed to enter next year? And why are you wearing makeup? Y/n you have to know Basgaith isn’t a fashion school” he lectured which made me roll my eyes

“I know brother and I am strong enough to take care of all these things now okay? As to why I am here…. Well I crossed the parapet too! Father gave me permission to cross it now since I am very physically and mentally capable of taking care of myself” I said proudly

Ever since I entered this universe as Dains sister- Y/n Aetos I made sure I was trained physically so I can be skilled when I entered Basgaith. I died when I was 19 years old so I had all the knowledge I had previously so I was a child prodigy here I excelled in everything even high school math when I was 5 years old. Of course everyone was astonished but it was all for one goal that is to enter Basgaith a year or two earlier than anyone

Unfortunately for me I didn’t get permission to enter when I was 16 or 17 or 18 but now is the time I will make sure to change everyone’s fate and make it happier

Speaking of my previous life I died after I broke up with my boyfriend he was a scumbag who cheated on me with several other women even so I loved with my entire heart. After getting my heart broken by him several times I decided not to go near a boy here I need a man anyway. So I will start dating after I save Liam from his fate I will make sure to date the hoties of Fourth wing.

I died looking like a mess I am sure there was a mascara line streaking down on my face, my hair was a mess, I know for a fact there was snot in my nose and I looked absolutely disgusting. So for a change I decided to go all out in this life of mine. I made sure my skin is clean my hair is groomed and I wear the tiniest bit of makeup at the right places to make sure even if I die any second I will look too beautiful. The trauma of myself looking like that during my previous life made me take these drastic measures

“Fine but you have to take care of Vi too okay?” Dain finally said ruffling my hair which made me swat his hand away

“It took me about 30 minutes to get my hair done Dain don’t mess it up” I said annoyed as I looped my hand with Violets “And you don’t have to tell me what to do” I stuck my tongue out before dragging Violet with me to the formation where we met Rhiannon

That’s when I saw HIM the man every Fourth wing fan dreams to be with Xaden Riorsen in the flesh and he looked so hot. I could only stare at him from my line of formation I didn’t care who started talking because I already knew Dain would have me and Violet in his squad and then Xaden would shift us to another so I took my time fangirling over him

He must’ve felt my stare that he caught my eye…. WAIT THE XADEN RIORSEN IS LOOKING AT ME. I wanted to squeal and throw up all at once gosh why is this man so UGH obviously I cant do anything about it. I will be able to witness his and Violets enemies to lovers arc before my eyes which will be even more amazing. Can I bag Liam if I change his fate? I will most definitely try

My thoughts and fangirling were broken when Violet nudged me “you are staring” she whispered “Commandant Panchek is about to start speaking”

I pouted a bit when I looked away “I can’t help it he’s hot” I whispered back

“Don’t say that in front of your brother he will have a heart attack” She whispered which made me giggle a bit. Dain gave me a glare which shut me up in an instant

"As the Codex says, now you begin the true crucible!" Panchek started as I started to concentrate on what he’s saying "You will be tested by your superiors, hunted by your peers, and guided by your instincts. If you survive to Threshing, and if you are chosen, you will be riders. Then we'll see how many of you make it to graduation."

‘I don’t want to listen to his bullshit can I just stare at Xaden or Garrick?’ I grumbled to myself as I zoned out ‘I just want a reason to stare at them wait… won’t Xaden speak after this guy?’ I let out an internal squeal

‘As predicted I was in Dains squad with Violet but it was changed by Xaden so I am under him now’ I thought ‘I wouldn’t mind being under him-‘ I shook my head ‘Violet is your best friend don’t do shit that will hurt it’

I gazed up as I heard the wings of dragons

Gosh they were marvellous Sgaeyl the book didn’t do justice to her beauty she was standing tall and proud. She was so so beautiful and I can see why Tairn fell for her. Her blue scales were so mesmerizing and I could watch the whole day and not get bored

I was pulled out of my thoughts when a red dragon burnt a cadet to death

“That sucks” I muttered as Violet held my hand tightly “You know Vi why don’t you go see where our bunks are? I need some air I will be back soon stay with Rhiannon okay” I told her as I started to walk away not wanting to hear any objections

After walking for sometime I found a window which showed the Vale and the beautiful valley the scenery was breathe taking

‘I need to come up with a plan, I need to get close to them but they won’t look at me since I am an Aetos after all gosh what am I supposed to do’ I thought to myself as I rubbed my face with my hand

“Basgaith isn’t for fragile things like you…” I heard someone say as I turned around to face them

‘this day just keeps getting longer and longer for my liking’

Next Chapter>>

[mediumgayitalian]

We sharing hcs?

1. Bianca was OBSSESSED with Michael Jackson (the cassino u know), nico likes him too even tho he isn't a big pop fan

2. On that note, Bianca loved to dance and killed it at the dancing games in the cassino. Her next life is a dancer ❤️

3. Will is super into gore and morbid stuff. Once nico's health is better, will asks him to summon zombies and skeletons for him to study

4. Pretty sure will is canonically into true crime?? Well, he knows what happened to a ton of unsolved crimes bc he makes nico summon the ghosts to tell him what happened

5. Kayla is a velcro sister. She'll terrorize will and austin but she's always following them around

6. The first time nico hung out with the chaos trio, lou ellen asked him if it was true that avril lavigne had died and been replaced (nico had no idea who that was and a lot of laughter ensued)

7. There are some spirits that nico can't approach. Black ancestors will pretty much only speak to hazel (esp those from new orleans), and nico was run out of ethiopia and told to never come back

8. Hazel loves songs abt heartbreak, she'll be belting out the saddest song ever while in a happy commited relationship with frank. He's confused

9. Cecil is killer at impressions and loves to do them to absurd prompts ("do.... chiron telling campers weed is now allowed at camp!")

10. The next time romans visited chb, someone (it was a hermes kid 10000%) made a bigus dickus joke. The romans were ?????? and percy had to explain mid-laughing fit

11. Hospitals are haunted af and, when will is working at them?, he gets approached a lot by ghosts who want him to contact nico to help them

12. When asked, drew tells everyone her dream is to be a runaway model. This is partially true, but her real real dream is to be a fashion designer. She has a ton of croquis that she shows no one

13. The first time nico saw minos, he crossed himself

14. Nico can moonwalk (he learned it alongside bianca)

15. It actually took a little while for will and kayla to grow close. He thought she was bratty and kind of annoying and she thought he had "a stick up his ass". But they both took to austin pretty much the moment he showed up

16. Naomi was named after naomi campbell, her mom is a big fan

17. Will being tall isn't from apollo actually. His entire mortal fam is tall af, his grandfather loves to say he fell for his grandmother bc she was the first woman who could look him in the eye

18. Kayla has a THICK toronto accent and cecil loves to piss her off by impersonating her (this was part of why she and will butted heads at first. They couldn't understand each other's accents *and* will laughed super hard the first time cecil messed with her)

19. Deaf!will forever! His first language was ASL (he learned it from his deaf grandma) and there are many english words he learned by reading. Worst offender is hepatitis bc one time will pronounced it as hepatities 💔

20. The chaos trio is STEM and nico is humanities. Makes for funny conversations when they have their infodump sessions

21. Will is one of those ppl who have a proeminent forehead vein. U know u fucked up when the forehead vein is bulging

22. Jason struggles to eat his veggies 💔 and likes his steaks *bloody* it's a holdover from his time with the wolves

23. Nico 🤝 frank - melting when their partners call them "baby" with their southern accents

24. Lou ellen loves quantum physics. The athena cabin thinks she's def onto something, if only she didn't mix it with so much ~magic mumbo jumbo~

25. The solace fam has a butcher shop. Naomi, growing up, always at the register bc she was grossed out by it - will was taught to cut up a chicken by 10 bc he was always underfoot

i love this so much i want to reply one by one.

1. no ur so right. i looooooove imagining them in the casino. i love to hc that nico raced Real Genuine Race Cars regularly. like he is a menace on the road and if u give him half the chance and a wrench he will mod a car in ways that would get him arrested on sight

2. this made me actually cry out loud. her next life is a dancer. especially bc will's oldest sister was a dancer too. in their next lives they danced together. they are the little girls who hold hands as the awards are read on stage

3. hes literally so gross he has like jars of shit. half the reason he wants nico so bad is bc he wants to put the boy under a microscope and nico is into it tbh

4. and nico does it bc hes whipped yeah

5. AGREED AGREED AGREED

6. YES i love. i love the chaos trio becoming a chaos quartet

7. 💀 correct they said i can smell the rich white european on you go the fuck away

8. she is olivia rodrigo's #1 stan yeah

9. SHDHJNSJFS YOURE SO RIGHT LMFAO

10. tears in his eyes clutching his stomach annabeth was so embarrassed she broke up with him for the day to date reyna instead

11. oh...what a fic this could be....pov of a young scared girl who just woke up and cant find her mom...slips her hand in into the doctor's with the nice smile and wrinkle lines...he feels the shock of cold and tiny palm and stops and kneels down and he cant see anything...but says hey sweetheart...my husband can help you. stick with me, okay?...sits her in his office with a coloring book...she draws dark shapes lined in red. shes scared....she doesnt recognize the world around her. will softens. he plays some kidz bop, the drawings get a little brighter. shadows chased away. nico comes, as soon as he can, and sees this tiny thing with messy hair smushed on the side where she lay on a pillow until she finally faded...takes her hands and meets her eyes and waits for her to find her words...squeezes her hands when she cries...tells her, hey, there's an old lady calling me...telling me she's missing her little ladybug...and this girl brighens, shouts lola!....bounds after nico happily into the arms of her grandmother....oh im unwell

12. oh i love this so much this could be a very tense drew & piper fic

13. righteously so 💀

14. it takes him 7 shots to get there yep

15. interesting....i like this take.

16. fits for ms diva 💀

17. YEAH like none of his other siblings are tall

18. DO NOT TELL ME ABOUT A TORONTO ACCENT 😭😭😭 i am pretending they dont exist. the idea of kayla getting mad and calling will a wasteman puts me in pain.

19. HEPATITTIES LMFAOOO poor will omg

20. oh wait this is fire. could be a mortal au, could be a mortal au...

21. embarrassing for him but frightening for literally anyone else

22. he is actually genuinely untamed i love this

23. it's so embarrassing for them and will & hazel are aware

24. she's like doc brown mad scientist yeah. her and cecil and will are actually deadass building the delorean time machine in the garage at will's aunts theyre getting close (the secret is racer nico but they dont know this yet) (they dont know enough about cars)

25. oooou interestign!!