#so concussion is his most used spell lol

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

What if Crowley(spn) had a kid and the Winchester’s almost kill them? What would/how Crowley do/react and what would the Winchester’s do?🤔

That’s My Goddamn Daughter!

Team Free Will x cambion!reader

When Castiel locates another cambion, potentially with the power to kill a knight of hell, he and the Winchesters go after her but then Crowley shows up claiming she’s his daughter.

Warnings:  MOC Dean, mentions of rape but really just misunderstandings, blood, concussions, I have no medical knowledge, swearing, reader gets knocked out a lot lol

WC: 2.2k

A/N: I kind of want to do a part 2 to this. What do you guys think?

Minors DNI

“I’m sorry what? Can you repeat that?” Castiel sighed, slightly exacerbated. He thought he explained the situation pretty well. Dean’s eyes were wide in both shock and disbelief and Sam just looked exhausted.

“Like I said before, there is another cambion in existence and she could be the answer to the Mark.” Dean swallowed the last of his now warm beer and glowered at the angel.

“And you didn’t think to tell us this before now?”

“Dean.” Sam started but the elder held up his hand to stop him. Cas sighed, mentally preparing himself for a classic Dean tirade that always seemed to come when he presented the brothers with a new lead.

“You’re hiding things from us, lying. How do we even know if this so-called cambion is the real deal? Why didn’t she show up before?” The angel’s eyes rolled, why did they have such trouble understanding?

“There was a spell concealing her from the angels’ view but for some reason, that spell is now gone. I assumed it was tied to someone in her family, possibly the parent that was a demon. But now, that demon is dead so the spell is gone.” Sam seemed to accept that answer but Dean was more skeptical.

“So what do we do if we do find this girl? Just ask her to come back with us for tea and cake? She most likely knows that daddy dearest was a demon and might want revenge and we are probably the ones that did it or we know them. So what then?” 

Sam leaned against the war room table beside his brother. “Dean’s right. Remember that kid Jesse, he had a whole town under his thumb without even thinking about it and he was just a kid. What could an adult with an obviously powerful parent do?” Dean nodded along and Cas had the distinct urge to smite them both.

“We need to take that chance. She might be our best shot at killing Cain without the First Blade.” Dean huffed, still clearly miffed at being so blatantly brushed off by the angel. 

“Alright fine but you can’t get mad at me when I say I told you so when this inevitably goes wrong.” He shrugged and Cas smirked slightly, happy to get his way.

——————

“Well that was easier than expected.” Dean sulked, sitting on the motel room bed pouting like a child. The woman had been easy to find, in fact it was too easy. She was a goddamn librarian in a small town where everyone knew her face.

No locks on her doors, no weapons in the house. She welcomed them in with open arms after Sam fed her their story of being lost and needing directions. She gave them pie and lemonade, answering every question they asked, including Dean’s flirtatious ask about a boyfriend.

Her head dipped and she avoided eye contact as she shyly replied that no, she didn’t have a boyfriend. Sam smacked Dean upside the head for that when she wasn’t looking. Cas, getting sick of the circling conversation mixed with too much human lust, had stepped forward and knocked her out with his grace.

He caught her soft body as she crumpled, ignoring the pointed looks the brothers sent him. “She would’ve come willingly.” Sam pointed out but Cas replied with a simple, “There isn’t enough time for you two to ‘convince’ her.”

Sam blushed and Dean just smirked, too proud of himself. They quickly smuggled her out to the car and started the long journey home. Now, they were taking a break for the night and Dean watched as the girl slept on, blissfully unaware of everything going on in the world.

“She really doesn’t seem demonic. She’s just-“

“Nice.” Dean finished his brother’s sentence for him, saying the word like it disgusted him. “Are you sure she’s the half-breed we want?” Again, Castiel was questioning why his destiny was intertwined with the Winchesters. Y/N shifted in her sleep, curling up on her side cutely, giving out a large sigh.

Cas stood at the foot of the bed, intensely watching the men who flanked her on both sides, like guards watching over their ward. “I can sense her power, it is far greater than any other cambion. Her blood has old magic in it, she is quite possibly descended from a natural witch.”

Sam froze, his entire body going stiff with surprise. “I’m sorry, so this girl is a product of a natural witch and a demon.” Cas shook his head, arms crossing over his chest.

“No, the magic is too deluded for the witch to be her mother or father, it is more likely that it is her grandparent.” Sam’s eyes flicked down to the girl, somehow already feeling incredibly protective of her. She was by far the kindest person he had met in a very long time, how could she have such evil in her blood? But he was wary, both because of her power and the fear of what could happen should she succumb to that power. He knew that feeling, that rush from demon blood, how addicting it could be.

Dean could feel the heat radiating from her body as she rolled closer to him. The mark was quiet around her, soothed like a feral cat getting love for the first time in its life. But how dark could she get, what was she capable of? And who in the hell was her demonic parent?

“We should keep moving. If we found her so quick, there’s no telling who else would be coming after her.” Cas nodded and fluttered away, presumably to ensure that no demons had followed them.

Dean moved away from her as quickly as he could, a curling in his gut making him feel like he should be repulsed by her but her presence also called to him. He fished a half-drunk bottle of whiskey from  his duffle bag and settled himself in the chair in the far corner of the room. “Get some shut eye, I’ll take first watch.”

Sam pulled a ratty blanket over top of her, careful to not wake her and took a seat on the other bed. “Do you think this could work?” Silence settled over the brothers.

“It’s our only shot.” And with that, Sam settled back against the thin pillows, keen to get any rest he could to escape his swirling thoughts.

——————

A rattling woke Dean from his alcohol induced slumber. With a groan, he lifted his head from the back of the chair he had accidentally fallen asleep on. His neck screamed in pain but that was nothing compared to the throbbing in his arm.

The mark burned and the rattling became louder. His green eyes fluttered open, only able to see vague shapes in the dark room. A shadow stood by the door, their hand on the knob, desperately trying to open it. “Please please please.” Her voice was filled with tears and a panic that made his heart lurch in his chest.

“Sweetheart.” The sound of his own voice made her work even faster at trying to open the door, but it was of no use. She screamed and Dean bolted forward. Moving faster than even he could comprehend, he grabbed her, wrapping a large palm over her mouth to keep her from making any more noise.

Her back hit the mattress with an exhale of air through her nose. Her eyes were wide with panic, her breathing quickening becoming erratic as his muscular body settled between her plump thighs, shoving her skirt up her legs. She tried to grab at Dean’s shoulders to shove him off but using his free hand he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

Tears rolled down her temples, wetting the sheets below them. “I’m not going to hurt you. You need to trust me.” Her head shook furiously beneath his hold, on the edge of hysterics. 

“Dean?” Sam muttered sleepily, sitting up in the bed. “What’s going on?” His hair stuck up in all different directions as he lazily looked around the room. His eyes landed on the situation in front of him and everyone froze.

Suddenly, the room exploded. With no hesitation, Sam launched himself at his older brother and tackled him to the floor. “What the hell were you doing!” Dean thrashed violently.

“She was trying to run! I had to stop her.” 

Sam snarled. “Not by doing that.” Dean landed a good punch to his jaw, knocking Sam for a loop but his grip remained strong even as his head spun.

Seeing her chance, Y/N slipped from the bed as quietly as she could but her legs gave out as soon as she rocked forward onto her feet. She yelped, catching the boys’ attention and they watched her fall, almost in slow motion.

Her head slammed against the corner of the bed before slamming into the floor. Blood pooled under her forehead, her eyes went hazy before they shut. “Shit!” Sam scrambled off of his brother, fear coursing through his veins like a fire. He slid a hand under her head, cupping her face gently. “C’mon open those eyes for me.” 

But she didn’t respond. Thick fingers fit against the dip of her throat, and he struggled to find her pulse. When he finally did, it was thready and weak but it was there. He breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s alive, probably a bad concussion though.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean growled, sitting up against the bed frame. “Why does this shit always happen to us?” As gently as he could manage with shaking hands, Sam lifted Y/N into his arms, resting her face against his strong chest. He could now feel the way her own chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.

Sam laid her on his unmade bed, keeping her on her side in case she got sick. The wound, a small gash on her right temple, had slowed its bleeding. It wouldn’t require stitches, just a couple butterfly bandages. “I don’t know, Dean.” He sighed and got to work fixing her up.

Meanwhile, Dean was stewing, thinking. She could have used her powers to save him off, to escape but she didn’t. She was just a normal girl getting involved in something that she didn’t want to do. “What are we doing Sammy? That girl doesn’t have any powers, she’s just a kid.” 

“Without the blade, we have no chance at getting rid of the Mark. She’s our best shot.” But there was no conviction in his tone. Sam was also doubting the integrity of this plan but he was desperate. Dean with the blade was far more dangerous than this girl could ever be, they needed her.

“How dare you touch my daughter!” The door burst violently, shattering under the force at which it was hit. Crowley stood, absolutely fuming in the entryway, eyes red with pure rage. Sam and Dean sprung into action, their guns drawn.

“What are you talking about Crowley?” Dean shifted so his body blocked the demon’s view of the girl on the bed. His shoulders were tense, the Mark telling him to protect her with everything he had. But apparently, Crowley wasn’t having any of it today.

With a wave of his hand, the boys went flying into the wall, their guns tossed away and ropes appearing from nothing to pin them down. “I told you I would find the blade and this is how you repay me! You kidnapped my daughter! Lust after her! And then you harm her!” His voice thundered through the room, shaking the foundations of the building with his fury. “You sniveling weasels! I kept her out of this life for a reason!”

The Winchesters struggled against his hold. Crowley loomed over the double bed, intensely staring at the woman. “She was never meant to know. I just wanted her to have a normal life.” 

Dean’s nostrils flared with anger as the demon leaned forward and cupped her round cheek with one hand while the other brushed against the bandage on her forehead. “Don’t touch her.” The hunter snarled. His arm burned as the mark screamed at him to rip apart anyone that even so much as looked in her direction.

A vein in Sam’s neck ticked in time with his pulse while he pulled at his bonds. He could feel the loosening of the ropes around his wrist. An angel blade rested on the chair Dean had been occupying, if he could get even one arm free, he could grab it. “You are the ones that hurt her! Not me!” Crowley snapped but didn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Last warning.” But he disregarded the Winchesters and instead lifted Y/N from the bed, taking extra care not to hit her any more than she already was.

Her face easily tucked into the dark material of his suit shirt as he held her close. “Stay away from my daughter.” And with that, both him and the ropes disappeared, leaving only her sweater and the bitter smell of sulphur.

The boys collapsed to the ground. Dean wasted no time as he scrambled forward in a desperate attempt to reach the now gone pair.

“Son of a bitch!”

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[fogwitchoftheevermore]

17 and 19 for the fic writing asks?

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

daybreak i know this one is you (/j i do not know that). but assuming it is because of timing. POINT IS! i learned frankly so much about first aid and concussions while writing would you mind if i tried to take a pass at it?, mostly from you. all the questions sausage asks fwhip in that fic are actual ones the internet recommended you ask someone when they might have a concussion. the only information i learned that i didn't include was the sausage should've checked to see if fwhip's spine was broken before picking him up, but we wrote it off as 1. he doesn't know THAT much about first aid and 2. it's more fun and gay this way.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

if this is, in fact, you, daybreak, then you have already read this snippet, but oh well, lol, chapter 2 of stop me if you've heard this all before (which you can find on my main ao3, spacetrashpile) is my primary wip right now, so. here's the section that gave you four new mental illnesses.

"The man steps into Pix’s view, but even without seeing him, Pix would know his voice anywhere. It’s Joel, unmistakably, but the moment he’s in his sight, everything looks a bit scrambled. He’s so much taller than he was, towering over the other man. He’s older than when Pix last saw him. He’s grown a beard, and there’s new laugh lines around his eyes and creases in his forehead from one too many furrowed brows. He’s wearing a toga, which is a little weird, if Pix is being honest, but it matches the child he’s here for, and it’s a better suited outfit for the mesa than what Joel had usually worn. And oh- oh gods. Joel is here for Hermes. Pix only barely holds in a sob as he realizes it- Joel has a child."

and as a special- a section from a wip i'm probably never going to finish and that i literally forgot i had until i went to grab the last snippet, so if this is in fact you daybreak, and you have already read that section, this one is specially for you. it has no title, it's just an alternate ending for s1 where fwhip and gem don't leave without the rest of the wra. or at least, they attempt not to.

"Fwhip and Gem are halfway ready to leave when either of them realizes it. Fwhip is climbing onto the dragon’s back to wait for Gem, who has far more to pack. Gem is inside, pulling together her spell books and deciding which ones are most important to bring.  Gem pushes one of them aside and is confronted with the picture frame on her desk: one depicting the Wither Rose Alliance in a much happier time. Fwhip pulls his scarf tighter against the cold and his hand brushes the heart charm Sausage had given him years ago.  They run to each other quickly, stumbling over the words. 'We need to get Pearl-' 'We need to get Sausage-'"

[castle-dominion]

6x1 valkyrie

It has been a while since I liveblogged. I want to finish watching castle before summer is over.

She got a job ok, they got engaged ok.

Lol love the yes/no/yes/no "most serious thing I've ever done"

RC: You do know how this works, right? his twelve hundred names lol (& yeah that is HUGE gem)

Ah NOW it has been two months no longer sayong "nypd" must have been a change.

I remember when I first saw this I thought "oh it must be this gif with the sexy bra" but it wasn't. & then she got hit so hard she fell back like that?

"or worse: me"

Ew she doesn't have her plans anymore?

I love the music dskljfsdlkfj "he's best with rhetorical questions"

Alexis is pretty. Oh yeah. Pi. I love him so much. Spelling is a construct anyway bro. RC: Uh … make sure you put some blankets out on the couch for Pi if he’s staying? (his meaning is not subtle) Want him to be comfortable. (his phone rings) And visible. I mean like yeah boy sleeps on the couch.

Meh won't clip

Poor them, not seeing each other.

Lol what are you smiling about to the castle cutout.

Is that still her mom's ring? How did Castle get here? You want me to leave? Immediately *starts kissing him*

Castle mr nosey man.

Wow they're good! she looks a lot like castle tbh CASTLE NO SHE'S LITERALLY NOT EVEN IN THE CAR YET YOU CAN CATCH HER

the baby sdkfljslkdjklj (clipping) Halo nights, new trivi fact "well since you offered"

could clip the part where ryan tosses the baby doll on esposito Yay Tory Ellis "isn't that beckett's backyard?" jf ey tunnel shdgy cal.l d*lat.er when i ^bet1er

*castle is already at the golf course*

"it better be on a book jacket" unless he is at home when you drop beckett off bro

"I didn't think I'd get caught"

Yes the old haunt! Mccord is also getting the same info I'm sure.

Oh no phtos of Castle.

Oh no r they tattling on becks?

Picked up a guy, talked in my sleep, let out info about Scoffield. What if you get the license plate when he opened his trunk? Really you have a match off of THAT?

Infiltration? Yeah this fellow def going into a building.

Her voice cracked hella when she said "clear" Also wow these folks are hot in their vests. Her phone is on ring mode? She just went into a building with guns, what if she got in trouble? What if they needed to be quiet?

"the kind that makes me feel all" *ooh*

RC: I have salmon that needs to be refrigerated He's so right RC: that's a read THAT'S A RED!

My man has been shot or smth.. At least castle grabbed the gun. "10 & 2, 10 & 2" XD

Castle getting checked for a concussion lmao *waves at her*

Castle say "I had salmon to refrigerate-- would I have bought that if I was planning on getting abducted?"

"Given your fiance's history.." yk what so valid bestie Her little "I'm sorry" through the screen.

Glad they are doing 70% match not more bc yeah, people can change what they look like.

KB: Maybe it’ll be better. This way when we come home at the end of each day we’ll have something to talk about like normal couples. RC: Only your day will be classified. Like that one physicist who insisted that his wife get classification access so that he could talk to her abou this work day & rubber duck to her. At least castle has the money to fly around visiting his wife all the time.

Pi my beloved. Isn't fruitarian like "I don't eat fruit unless it has fallen from the tree. Those carrots were brutally murdered."

My man lives in amsterdam? Pi has his sixth sense I love pi sm. "you're absolutely right" *walks away*

RmC: You want to talk about it? KB: No RmC: Good

of course she wasn't taking a direct route

Aww castle talking to rysposito about it

KR: You know, I don’t think Jenny and I have been apart for more than two days since we met. It’s gotta be rough. (HOLY CRAP WAIT WHAT?) RC: I just feel like we’re so out of sync I don’t know how to get back. I guess I was just … trying to make it feel like us again. JE: Yeah, by playing me and Ryan for chumps. (KR nods, but it’s not in anger) You should have known that we were going to figure out this case was real. RC: Well, you’ll be happy to know for my sins I was abducted by a maniac at gunpoint and nearly killed. But at least I didn’t get Beckett fired. [They’re both surprised.] JE: Whoa, whoa, abducted? (RC pauses) By who? RC: realizes he might have said too much and tries to evade. RC: Look guys, I really shouldn’t be talking about this. [They don’t let him off so easily.] KR: C’mon, Castle. It’s us. JE: And thanks to you, we’re already involved. KR: nods. RC: Okay, but this goes no further, all right? (at KR’S nod) So I’m walking down the street and this guy that they’re looking for grabs me, shoves me into a car, starts talking crazy, starts asking me all these questions. JE: What kind of questions? RC: Something about Valkyrie, how much the feds knew, and then I thought he was going to pass out, because he was talking about going off to dream world. (JE freezes & looks off with his eyes) But he didn’t pass out. He dropped dead. JE: Uh … this guy? Was he, uh, was he military?

RC: Why? Is Valkyrie a military term? JE: I don’t know about Valkyrie, but Dream World? It’s a highly classified special operations base in the Gulf. It’s a ghost base. The government’s never confirmed its existence, but I – I met a guy who knew a guy who was stationed there. (everyone knows someone who knows someone) RC: (intrigued) Where is it? JE: It’s – it’s a ghost base, Castle. You think it’s going to say where it is? KR and RC share a look, then look to JE. They both shake their head. JE: No. But I will tell you this, if Beckett’s case has anything to do with this base, well, then she’s into something way bigger than she realizes. (won't clip, not even the double shale heads of rystle)

Oh no they lost her, beckett's instincts screwed them up. Or not nvm. If you've never seen it then why were you running away with evasion tactics? Is this the same interrogation room as the precinct & they just dolled it up differently?

GOLF COURSE I expected rachel mccord to slam the table & yell "he's dead" to scare this jeanette girl into talking. KB: Well, people do crazy things when they’re in love. RmC: I've noticed

Well you have the encryption system so you don't need to find the Bad Guy. Stop looking for the thing they REALLY stole. Ah! Genetics lab, classified floor, etc. lmao you would SO get results for dreamworld, even if it is all BS.

Castle chill & cut pi some slack. But also alexis is so pretty really really pretty. RC: how would they know? MR: Richard, these federal agents are here for you...

Ah yes, the military Why would Jack Bronson die if they were trying to set him up? How badly was he exposed? A few days & castle is still mostly fine? ngl I expected it to be more like "a few months before it ruins your systems, but we have a few days to flush it from your system so that you can go back to living your normal life" or smth

Ok I got a few clips, I'm happy.

[solradguy]

I never really think about it, but Sol Badguy is really smart! I’m still not entirely sure sure how smart he is though, like compared to everyone else. He built the OUTRAGE right?

I feel like he’s smarter than Ky? Ky knows how to do magic really good, but I don’t think he could build an OUTRAGE. I think Jack O’ is a little smarter than Sol, but she’s an artificial being with the transplanted soul of a scientist. I’m not sure if that affects the ratings.

Is there like…an official answer to how smart Sol is? Do you have any thoughts?

Ahhh I have so many thoughts about how smart Sol is hahah

Ok this got long as shit so I'm putting it under a readmore lmfaoooo

He did build the original Outrage, it's true, and then that was split apart into the 8 Sacred Treasures. The lightning one went to Ky for Thunderseal and the fire one for Sol's Fireseal sword that he had up until Xrd. Junkyard Dog, Sol's Xrd (and Vastedge....) sword, also has the Flashing Fang (the light element treasure) alongside Fireseal so that, after it was upgraded into the Outrage mk.II sword in Strive, it could do the giant laser cannon nonsense spell, Saint Oratorio. EDIT: Sorry, Junkyard Dog could do Saint Oratorio too but IIRC we don't see it until Sol does it with Outrage in Strive

Vastedge is frustrating as hell to find information on (even in Japanese UGH!!), but I'm pretty sure it covers Sol stealing Flashing Fang from the Conclave and then getting a little help from Izuna and his buddies to upgrade the Junkyard Dog sword. Vastedge probably has some lore in it that gives more of an idea for how smart Sol is too. I just don't have access to it.

Anyway, Sol did most of this almost entirely on his own. It's also implied that he built his motorcycle too, Fire-Wheel mk.II, and then at the end of Strive he's also building a rocket, presumably to go visit Asuka on the moon. Not to mention all the research he did on Gear cells to make them viable for the technology that lead to the actual Gear monsters, though he had help from Asuka and Aria on that. We also know that he's proficient with at least 1 programming language and whatever software he used to make that cute 3D flower hologram for Aria in that Xrd flashback. These aren't really up there with building a friggin rocket for sure lol but they're not easy things anyone could pick up and figure out in just a day either.

Sol's REALLY smart, definitely in the top 5 smartest GG characters, but I think he underplays it a lot because he doesn't like getting involved and if people realize exactly how smart he is, then they'll want his help for stuff more than they already do haha. He's also kind of lazy and seems to like taking shortcuts when he can too. There's a scene near the end of Overture where he needs to figure out how to decode this magic cube to re-open the portal from the Backyard back on to Earth and instead of crunching the numbers and doing it the right way, he just smashes it and somehow it works lmfao I think Sol would resort to concussive maintenance before other methods 9 times out of 10.

If Sol was a D&D character, he'd probably have really high intelligence but only an average wisdom stat, imo.

Ky is smart too, but the difference between the two is that Ky seems like the type who reads a book and then makes flashcards to help him remember the information in it. Whereas Sol either only reads the parts he needs to know or he only reads through it once and when he has to apply that knowledge to something, he guesses his way through it based on what he remembers. Apparently in Lightning the Argent, it covers how lightning magic is the most difficult to master and fire magic is implied to be the easiest, with how many characters can use it. I feel like that information supports the difference between Sol and Ky's ways of thinking. Sol had a LONG time to study and get good with machines too and Ky is only like ~30 in Strive. Given over 100 years to read manuals and experiment, Ky could probably build rockets and stuff too.

I don't really have much to add about how smart Jack-O' might be, she just doesn't have a lot of lore at the moment... I think she has a scene where she goes into depth about Backyard mechanics but, like you said, she's an artificial being with an extra consciousness inside her so that information was likely hardcoded into her. It would probably be a safe guess to assume she's smarter than the average human, but I don't have anything to point to that supports her having near-superhuman levels of intelligence like Asuka or Sol seem to have.

[deansmom]

(ao3) 6k of “what if dean got hit with a love spell on a hunt, and they thought the spell didn’t work because nothing changed until something did.” pray4sam lol, set post canon and 19/20 never happened. 

Dean yells something, but Castiel doesn’t hear it over the sound of glass and metal breaking and bending around him. The vampires are throwing him around like a rag doll, and he can’t get his feet under him long enough to even try to stop it.

He feels absurdly, infuriatingly human.

Finally, Dean is able to interrupt the one who’s been doing most of the throwing, and Castiel is able to smite the next one that touches him.

The vampire dies with a loud, abrupt scream and it gives Sam and Dean enough time to take out the other four who’d been using Cas as a play thing.

His grace isn’t as strong as it used to be, and he just hurts everywhere. His head is particularly painful, the way that it’s throbbing so much it feels like his eyes are going to pop out.

He makes a noise that’s supposed to be Dean’s name but it sounds more like a groan. He just needs some help to stand up, and frankly, he’s not sure how structurally sound this building is anymore since they threw him through most of the supporting walls.

Dean is there suddenly, and Castiel has to bite back the instinct to whine at the frantic hands flying over him.

Hands stop on his face, and oh, there he is. Cas opens his mouth to say hello, he’s glad that they found him, something, and then -

Dean kisses him and it’s a little panicked, a little too rough, but mostly, it just feels nice.

He’s helpless to do anything more than lean up into it, one of his own hands grabbing at the sleeve of Dean’s jacket. He makes a noise into it and it turns into a groan very quickly, a twinge in his ribs not letting him move like that.

It startles Dean enough that he pulls back, his concern written clear across his face.

“Are you alright?? Did I hurt you??”

Sam makes a choked squawking noise from somewhere behind them, and both Dean and Cas look over at him. He bites his fist so he doesn’t yell it at them and abruptly walks out of the warehouse because oh my god, the spell wasn’t a dud.

Dean helps Cas out to the car, a hand on his chest and the other hand on his lower back with Cas’ arm thrown over his shoulder.

“Sam, a little help here?!” Dean glares incredulously at his brother, not even reacting to Castiel’s head falling onto his shoulder.

Sam jumps out of the passenger seat and opens the back door of the Impala, “Sorry, yeah, I just - I had to -“

Dean makes a displeased noise that sounds like Miracle when they stop petting her too soon.

“Yeah, whatever ya fuckin weirdo.” He moves the hand from Cas’ chest to his pocket and digs out the keys, “Here, Sammy, you drive.”

Sam blinks at the keys for a second too long, his brain still trying to process the fact that his brother has been under a spell for the last 3 weeks, and gets the keys tossed at his chest for the trouble.

He pouts a little bit despite himself, grabbing the keys from where they fell.

Dean is trying to figure out a way to get himself in the backseat without letting go of Cas and it’s not working. He’s got 5’11” of dead weight leaning on his shoulder, and Dean’s not as young as he used to be.

“A little help here?!”

Sam jumps forward, sliding his arms around Cas to hold him up, “Right, sorry.”

Dean slides in as soon as Cas is safely supported, and then leans forward to grab his shoulders again.

It takes the two of them a minute to figure out the coordination for this, and Cas gets his head slammed against the car once for their troubles. Miraculously neither the bump nor Dean yelling death threats at Sam gets a reaction out of him, other than a quiet groan.

When they successfully have him folded up in the backseat, Dean pulls Castiel’s head onto his lap and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay, let’s get him to the motel room,” he sighs, sounding equal parts exhausted and worried.

Sam hesitates for a moment with the door open, moments from the past few weeks flying through his head in a new context now. Holy shit, he’s so dumb. They’re all so dumb.

Dean’s voice snaps him out of it, “Sam, come on!” He’s trying to glare at his brother, but he just looks more weirded out than anything, “What the hell is with you, man?? Let’s go.”

He nods, jumping into action and shutting the door a little too harshly. It earns him another squawk from the back seat and Sam winces, “Sorry.”

Holy shit, this is absurd.

Sam hesitates for a beat and decides against trying to talk to Dean now, heading over to the drivers side door.

He gets in the Impala and starts her up immediately, turning down the radio to a quieter volume when it starts playing.

He chances a look in the rear view mirror for a second, and he almost chokes on his tongue when he sees the look on Dean’s face.

He’s never felt so stupid in his life.

Sam shakes himself out of it and pulls the car out onto the main road, barely remembering to look both ways.

They’re quiet for a couple minutes, Dean lost in his concern, Sam lost in the memories of the past twelve years that now have a completely different context and holy shit.

The radio is still playing quietly in the background and it’s something, Sam’s not really sure what, because they didn’t drive here together. They’re going to have to go pick up Castiel’s truck at some point before they leave and huh, maybe Sam will just go and do that after he talks to them.

That’ll buy all of them like what, an hour? Two?

He’s so deep in his own thoughts that Sam almost misses it when he hears the voice coming from the back seat.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Dean whispers, his voice sounding softer than Sam’s ever heard it. “You scared the hell out of me back there.”

“...apologies,” Castiel’s equally soft voice answers, sounding rough. “They got the jump on me, and I -“

Dean shushes him, “Hey, you got nothing to apologize for.”

Castiel sighs, and Sam can hear his trench coat shifting on the bench, “Dean...”

Dean does something that makes the car quiet for a couple seconds too long and Sam has to resist the urge to clear his throat.

“Cas, I’m just glad you’re okay. Now close your eyes again for me? We’re almost back at the hotel.”

“‘M not tired,” is the grumbled reply Sam hears.

“Yeah okay superman, that’s fine, but you’re squinting at me and it’s making my head hurt. Close your eyes, it’ll make you feel better.”

Castiel sighs, the trench coat shifting again, “Alright, Dean.”

Sam turns the radio up just a little bit, feeling suddenly like he’s intruding on something even though he’s heard these conversations a million times before.

Holy shit, he’s so dumb.

When they get to the motel, Cas is more awake and is able to walk himself up to his room with Dean’s help.

Sam debates going to the front desk to see if they have another room he can get, since they’d been planning to just crash in Cas’ room anyways.

No, he should really take care of this whole shitshow first. Who knows what the effects of Dean being cursed for this long will be? And what if they...

He shakes himself out of it, literally, and finally gets out of the Impala to follow behind them.

They’re barely starting up the steps by the time Sam catches up to them and he catches just a snippet of their conversation.

“Really Dean, I’m alright,” Castiel is grumbling, putting way more weight on Dean than is probably necessary.

Dean snorts, the hand on Castiel’s lower back pressing firmly against him every time they go up a step, “Yeah, you’ve never looked better.”

Castiel groans, glaring at him as they go up another step, “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean grins at him, the tips of his ears turning a little pink. “That’s why you like me.”

Sam takes a couple steps backwards and decides that no, he’s going to give them a minute and grab their bags. Maybe go to the front desk and check on that room after all.

At the rate they’re going (at the rate Dean is milking this, he should say), they’ll be at the top of the stairs in like ten minutes anyways.

They don’t even notice that Sam’s not behind them anymore.

Figures.

Sam rolls his eyes and heads back to the Impala, pulling out his phone once he has the trunk open.

He types out a quick text to Eileen and Bobby.

‘Remember that hunt a couple weeks ago with the witches? Dean did get cursed. Need a spell to undo it ASAP.’

Eileen answers first.

‘A delayed spell?’

Sam snorts, running a hand through his hair.

‘No, I’m just an idiot.’

‘???’

‘I’ll explain later. Can you guys help?’

Finally Bobby answers and it makes Sam laugh out loud. He may not exactly be their Bobby, but sometimes he’s close enough that it’s hard to even tell the difference.

‘Don’t text me Sam, just call. Will c what I can dig up.’

Eileen’s reply comes after that.

‘I’m close, I’ll go help.’

Sam smiles, that warm feeling he gets every time they talk blooming in his chest again.

‘I owe you both.’

He grabs their duffles and slams the trunk shut.

When he gets up to the room ten minutes later, it takes Dean a couple minutes to actually open the door.

Much to Sam’s surprise (and delight) they both look just as miserable and clothed as when he left them. Good, that means Dean hasn’t done something that will freak him out later.

He hands Dean his duffle and a key, “Here, I’ve got the room two doors over.”

Dean frowns, taking both things, “Why’d you get another room? I’m not leaving Cas alone tonight. He could have a concussion, Sam.”

Castiel groans from the bed, “Dean I told you, I have enough Grace. I’ll be fine, I just need time -“

Dean snaps, not even looking back at him when he says, “Cas, I love you, but shut the fuck up, this isn’t up for debate.”

Castiel’s mouth closes with an audible click, Sam feels lightheaded all of a sudden and Dean looks like he can’t believe he’s got two idiots in the same room as him.

“What?!” He growls, looking back and forth between the two of them, “Why the hell are you guys being weird??”

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but Cas beats him to the punch.

He gets up to hobble over to them, and Dean’s there supporting him before he even gets two steps away from the bed.

“Dean,” he sighs, reluctantly leaning into his arms for support. “On second thought, I am hungry. Could you please go pick up some food?”

Castiel smiles at the confused look on his face and sets a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “I do think it will help me heal faster.”

That seems to be a good enough reason for Dean because any defensiveness melts away immediately. He nods, already guiding Cas backwards again, “Fine, but you’ve gotta stay here on this bed, and rest.”

Cas lets Dean settle him onto the bed again and sighs, trying to sound more put-out than he feels, “Alright, if you insist.”

“Damn right I insist,” Dean huffs.

And then, like it’s fine and totally normal and not throwing either one of them off their game, he leans down and kisses the top of his head.

“Okay,” Dean says as he stands upright. “Sammy, you stay here with Cas. I’ll go get burgers and then we’ll talk about why you’re being so weird.”

He points at Sam as he says it, his expression clearly meaning that he thinks Sam is the one who isn’t being normal.

Sam nods, finally stepping into the room, “Yeah, alright, sounds good.”

Dean grabs the Impala’s keys from Sam’s hand and starts to head out the door when Sam remembers.

“Oh shit, Dean!” He yelps, stepping out into the hallway again.

Dean sighs and turns around, throwing his hands up, “What?!”

Sam cringes, pointing to Dean’s face, “You got vamp all over you.”

At the reminder, Dean brings a hand up to wipe his face off and blanches when he sees the blood and chunks on it (eugh).

The most shocking thing, believe it or not, is that Dean just kinda shrugs after a moment.

“Gross, I’ll wipe it off in the car, but I gotta go get the food for Cas.”

Sam just kinda... gapes at his brother, and eventually feels himself nodding. “Yeah, uh... yeah okay. Just don’t go in anywhere looking like that.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns back around, heading towards the stairs, “What is this Sam, my first rodeo?! I got it.”

Because his brain is still trying to process everything it’s figured out in the last thirty minutes, Sam just goes back into the motel room. He shuts the door behind him and points at Cas, “We need to talk.”

Castiel deflates a little, shifting himself so he’s resting against the headboard, “Dean is under a love spell, isn’t he?”

Sam sighs, dropping his duffle by the foot of the bed, “I’m gonna go with yeah.”

Someone yells at their TV nearby, the radiator kicks on and Castiel groans when he sits up and starts pulling the trench coat off.

“I don’t understand why it just kicked in now,” he grumbles, sounding petulant.

Sam snorts and sits down at the end of the bed, barely missing his feet, “I don’t think it did, Cas.”

He gets a squint for his troubles, and Sam sighs, realizing that this might be a more difficult conversation than he was anticipating.

Look, he’s not blind, okay? He kinda figured that Dean had like, a crush or something on Cas. And he knows that Cas has had a crush on Dean for god, who knows? Maybe since they first met?

But he always just kinda figured that the two of them knew about it and just, like... didn’t think it was a good idea.

In the time it took for them to drive over here, Sam’s started to think that they have no idea.

He sighs again, looking up at the ceiling, “Look, you know how Dean’s been a little bit more touchy the last couple weeks?”

Again, remembering the day after they got home from ganking the witches when Sam caught Dean rubbing Castiel’s shoulders, he fees like the biggest idiot in the world.

Cas shifts on the bed, shrugging a little, “I don’t understand what that has to do with anything, Sam. Your brother is a very tactile person.”

And yeah, okay, add that one to the list of “Reasons Why Sam Is Stupid.”

He rolls his head over to look at Cas, “Dude, maybe, but he isn’t normally like that.”

Castiel sits up and then groans again, falling back against the pillows.

“I don’t understand, your brother isn’t...” He glares at his hands, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat, “He isn’t interested in me, Sam.”

Not for the first time in the last hour, Sam desperately wishes for something to ram his head through. This is absurd.

Cas hums, looking very human, “Although I suppose that a love spell would make that a moot point...”

Sam sets a hand on his ankle and turns so he’s facing his friend, “Cas.”

He doesn’t look up from his hands and Sam resists the urge to yell in frustration by squeezing Castiel’s leg, “Dude, look at me for a second, please.”

After a couple moments, he finally does look up at him and Sam wants to laugh. Cas looks so nervous and just, painfully human, and Sam almost feels bad for the guy.

“Yeah, Dean’s been under the influence of the spell the last couple weeks.”

Castiel looks away again, and Sam moves so he’s still in his line of sight.

“But buddy, you’re insane if you think that he doesn’t love you.”

The person in another room yells at their TV again and then all Sam can hear is the pipes in the bathroom, rattling with the effort of bringing water to someone in the building.

“I’d like to be alone now, Sam,” Castiel says after a couple minutes of silence.

Sam rolls his eyes and lets go of his ankle, “Dean’s going to kill me if I’m not here when he gets back.”

He seems to consider that for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Then I’d like to wait for my food in the bathroom please.”

They both just stare at each other for a while, both of them daring the other to say anything about it. Finally Sam sighs and stands up, “Yeah, okay. Do you need help, or...?”

Castiel stands up and he has to steady himself on Sam’s arm for a beat. He does, however, swat off Sam’s hands when they move to support him, “I’m fine, Sam. I can walk.”

That annoying little brother part of him wants to point out how hard Cas was leaning on Dean earlier, but he bites his tongue. He just steps out of the way and makes a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

Castiel glares at him like he knows what Sam is thinking, and oh man, is that his ears turning pink?

Sam grins at him, wanting to say something else, but Cas just shoves past him and makes a beeline for the bathroom. He’s definitely got a little bit of a limp, and he’s for sure favoring one side over the other, but he makes it to the bathroom completely fine on his own. The door promptly slams shut in Sam’s face.

He snickers fondly to himself, going over to turn the TV on. He finds a channel that looks entertaining enough and flops down on the couch, keeping the volume low enough that he can hear it Cas needs help.

Dean comes back twenty minutes later with bags overflowing and his hands full.

“Guys, dinner’s up!”

He sets his bounty on the tiny table by the door and looks around the room, grinning. The grin disappears completely when Cas isn’t on the bed, and Sam’s just looking at him from the couch.

“Hey, Cas just decided to take a shower.”

And he did, honest. He even poked his head out like two minutes ago and asked Sam to bring him a change of clothes.

Dean’s face looks a little panicked again and Sam jumps up, holding his hands out in a placating motion.

“Hey, he’s fine Dean, he just hopped in. He won’t be out for a couple minutes.”

He comes over and sets a hand on Dean’s shoulder, kinda feeling like he’s dealing with an emotional time bomb.

“Come eat,” he tries again, squeezing Dean’s shoulder. “That way when Cas is done and ready to eat his own food, you can totally focus on him.”

That seems to snap Dean out of the panic spiral he looked like he was going down, and he’s visibly trying to make himself not look like that’s what was happening.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, looking away from the bathroom door. “Yeah, okay, good call.”

Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes when Dean turns around and starts digging through the bags.

He takes his impossible burger when it’s handed to him, and sits down with his back to the bathroom door to appease his brother.

Dean offers him a sheepish smile and sits across from his brother. His butt is barely in the chair when he takes a big bite out of his burger and well Sam, it’s now or never.

“Dean,” he starts, trying to find the right words for this.

“You kissed Cas.”

Well, okay, probably not the best start.

Dean frowns at him through the next big bite he takes and asks, mouth full, “So?”

Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, picking a stray piece of onion off the side of his burger.

“Well, Dean, you don’t... normally do that.”

Again, Dean’s got that look on his face like he thinks Sam has once and for all fully lost his mind.

“What the hell are you talking about, Sam? Of course I do.”

Please, God, he prays, wondering if Jack can hear him. I don’t want to have this conversation with my brother.

When nothing happens Sam groans, his hands coming up to rub his temples, “Dean, remember a couple weeks ago? That job with the coven?”

Dean takes a bite of a fry, staring blankly at Sam while he chews, “What about it? We beat them.”

God, please, a sinkhole, a lightning bolt, something.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, his fingers working into his head harder. “And remember the spell that one of them tried with you right before Cas killed her...?”

Dean shrugs, taking another fry, “Yeah, and? It was a dud, it didn’t work.”

Would slamming his head against the table be too dramatic? Because that’s how this conversation is beginning to feel.

Sam sets his hands on the table, fully glaring at his brother, “It wasn’t a dud. It was a love spell, and it hit you, and you’re in love with Cas.”

Dean blinks at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes a little, “Yeah...” He’s speaking slowly, like Sam is either stupid or insane (he’s starting to really feel both), “That’s because I am.”

Because he’s nothing if not a true little brother, Sam groans and glares up at the ceiling, silently begging Jack to help him.

Of course he doesn’t, because he’s got bigger things to do and to worry about, but Sam feels like he’s being punished instead of Dean.

“Are you feeling okay, Sammy?” Dean takes another bite of his burger and keeps talking while he chews, “You’re acting really weird.”

Sam scrunches his face up in disgust, “Ugh, Dean, you’re gross. How does Cas even...”

Something makes Dean choke a little bit on the food in his mouth and it takes him a full minute to swallow it. Sam wants to laugh at the panic on Dean’s face because his brother is 42 going on 4, but he doesn’t.

“Sam, don’t even...” Dean glares at him warily, sneaking a look over at the bathroom, “Cas doesn’t... Y’know...” He makes a vague gesture with his hands and oh my god.

“Dean,” he starts, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “Do you...” Sam licks his lips, trying to resist the urge to scream at him, “Do you think that Cas doesn’t love you?”

And now Dean’s blushing and squirming in his seat like he’s 13 and somebody just asked him if his crush like him back and ohmygod, Sam is going to fling himself into traffic.

“He’s an Angel, man,” Dean hisses. “They don’t work like that.”

“I’m going to kill myself,” Sam groans loudly, letting his head fall forward with a thunk on the table. “Ow, fuck.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice interrupts them. He’s standing in between the bathroom door and the bed, wearing some of Dean’s old PJ’s.

(What? Sam’s not stupid, he wasn’t going to give Cas his PJ’s - what if they had sex on them or something? Gross.)

“We need to talk.”

Dean shrinks in on himself a little, not looking away from Cas, “Buddy, look, it’s not what it sounds like -“

Castiel rolls his eyes, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, “Dean, you kissed me.”

Again, he squirms a little in his seat, “So?”

Now at least, someone else is sharing in Sam’s pain.

Castiel sighs, “You haven’t done that since purgatory.”

And welp, holy shit, okay, that’s news.

Dean scoffs, taking a fry from Sam’s pile since his are all gone, “What??? That’s not true.”

“And you said you loved me,” Castiel grumbles, squirming himself now. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

“Well, I -“ Dean starts, shrugging, “I mean, I thought you knew?”

Castiel squawks, most definitely does not stomp his foot, “I don’t appreciate being... made fun of like this, Dean.” He’s trying to look pissed, but he’s just kinda radiating hurt so bad that Sam can feel it from all the way over here.

“I know it’s the spell that’s making you act like this, Dean, but I don’t appreciate you throwing my own words in my face so callously. It hurts.”

Sam’s brain comes to such an abrupt screeching halt that he wonders if they can hear it.

‘Throwing my own words’?! Does that...

“Cas,” Dean starts, finally getting up from his chair. “I’m not under any sort of spell, man. It’s just me in here.”

Castiel glares, unmoved, “You are, Dean, and the sooner we can fix it, the better.”

“I’m not!” He growls, returning his glare, “And I don’t appreciate you making fun of me either.”

“Guys!!” Sam yells to interrupt them, the tension getting a little too thick for his comfort, “Cas, Dean is under a love spell, but he’s also in love with you, you idiot.”

Sam turns to Dean and points at him, “And you, you absolute fucking moron, Cas said I love you, and you still don’t believe it?!”

Dean’s glare turns into something like a pout, “He was dying!”

Sam barely resists the urge to yell, and instead just asks as calmly as he can, “So?!”

“Well, I...” Dean frowns, looking down at his shoes.

Cas sighs, his voice much softer than before when he says, “Sam, I think your brother and I need to speak alone for a minute.”

Every ounce of tension and anxiety drains out of Sam’s body at once and he nods, running over to grab his bag and his food, “Thank Christ, I’ll be down the hall if you guys need me.”

Neither one of them says anything until the door’s closed behind him, and even then it takes Cas a minute to figure out what to say.

“Dean, will you...” he sighs, sitting on the bed again, “Will you please come here?”

Dean nods, reluctantly sitting down next to him.

He won’t even look at Cas and he’s going to drive Castiel insane one day. He’s going to lose his damn mind and throw this infuriating human through a wall.

“Look, I -“

“Cas, I -“

They both smile sheepishly at each other, each surprised that the other person said anything.

“No, you go ahead,” Dean says at the same time Cas says, “Apologies, Dean, you -“

They both laugh, some of the tension draining out of both of them.

Sam’s right, this whole thing is absurd.

“So...” Dean starts after a couple minutes, “We... don’t normally kiss.”

Castiel smiles, not taking his eyes off of his hands, “No, we don’t.”

“And I...” Dean winces, looking out the window across from them, “I’ve been under a love spell for the last couple weeks.”

This time, the smile is much more sad and less fond, “It would certainly appear that way.”

Something occurs to Dean and he groans, burying his head in his hands, “Oh my god.”

At that, Cas shifts on the bed so he’s angled towards Dean, a hand resting on his knee. “Dean, it’s alright...”

He shakes his head, refusing to look up from his hands because holy shit, he’s been under a spell for three weeks and he’s so damn gone on Cas that NOBODY NOTICED THE DIFFERENCE.

This is mortifying.

He flops backwards on the bed, groaning again, “Oh my god.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, sounding way more annoyed now. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Dean whines despite himself, flopping his arms down beside him on the bed, “Jack! Jack, damn it, I know you’re busy but I need your help!”

Castiel makes a frustrated noise, “Dean, I can lift the-“

A hand comes up and grabs his wrist before it can touch Dean, “No.” Dean’s voice is firm, even though he still won’t look at him.

“You need your mojo more than me. Heal.”

At that Castiel sighs, shaking his head, “Fine. Jack, my apologies for bothering you, but if you could please just...”

The curtains whoosh, and then Jack is standing at the foot of the bed. He smiles at them, big and open and oh so Jack.

“Hi Dean! Hi Cas!” He gives them a tiny wave before the smile falls off his face, “What’s wrong?”

Castiel squeezes Dean’s leg, “Dean is under a spell. I would lift it myself, but -“

Dean pushes himself up, trying to smile at Jack, “He’s hurt, needs his grace to heal. And I need this spell lifted, please.”

Jack nods, solemn, “Of course. Have you...?” He looks around the room, frowning when he realizes Sam isn’t here, “Have you tried a reversal spell?”

Again Dean sighs, “It’s... a couple weeks old. We don’t know what spell they used.”

That seems to be explanation enough for him, because then Jack is there next to them, and his hand is on Dean’s face.

He closes his eyes out of habit more than anything, holding his breath.

“...There,” Jack says after a moment. He removes his hand, grinning at them, “That should’ve fixed it.”

The difference is subtle. Dean feels exactly the same as he has for the last three weeks, but now he’s mortified and wants to crawl into a hole and die.

God, what was he thinking?? He doesn’t get to love Cas like that, not after everything.

Dean wants to disappear into the ether but he just returns the smile as best he can and nods, “Yeah-“ His voice cracks, “Yeah, uh, that did it.”

Castiel is watching him warily, but he does offer Jack a smile, “Thank you.”

Jack reaches out as if to heal him too, and Castiel just stops him with a shake of the head.

“Really Jack, I’m alright. I’ll be healed by tomorrow.”

He can feel Dean fidgeting next to him with the desire to bolt, to run away from the situation he’s created, so Cas silently asks Jack to leave them. Thankfully, miraculously, he still seems to hold some authority over him, and he does.

Dean tries to hop up as soon as he’s gone and Cas just tightens his grip on Dean’s leg.

“Dean Winchester -“ he starts, his mouth suddenly going dry with the question. Cas has to lick his lips a couple times to get his voice to start working, and he fights the urge to preen when he catches Dean chasing the movement with his eyes.

“Do you...” His voice cracks, “Do you really love me?”

Dean looks just like he did before the Empty took him. He’s barely holding back his tears and he’s terrified. His whole being is begging Cas not to do this, not to put everything on the line like this.

Because now, Castiel thinks he might understand what that face means. Don’t put everything on the line like this, don’t break my heart, don’t make me lose you again.

But oh my god, Cas is so tired. And much like Sam in the car, Cas has spent most of his time in the bathroom going over memories of the last twelve years with some new context.

“Dean...” His voice is soft as his hand comes up to rest on his cheek, “I meant what I said. I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

Dean closes his eyes, leaning into the hand, “Why?”

Castiel sighs, pushing some of his feelings through his Grace to meld with Dean’s soul. He’s never been good with words and he just - he needs Dean to know.

He needs Dean to know that he’s never seen anything more beautiful than Dean’s smile, than his soul, and Castiel saw the universe come to fruition. He is millions of years old and he never understood why humans do the things that they do until he met Dean. He’s never loved anything as much as he loves Dean, not even his father, and it terrifies him.

He shows Dean his memories - watching him rake leaves, pulling him out of hell, watching over him at night, that night before they interrogated Raphael. He shows him purgatory, that first time since that night they kissed. He shows him every moment since then that he’s been overwhelmed with the urge to kiss Dean and protect him and tell him how much he loves him.

He shows Dean the dreams that he’s visited, he shows him the heaven he’s designed for him when he’s ready, he shows him his own wildest dreams he never lets himself think about.

Cas shows Dean a dream of them in bed together, and a little girl jumping on the bed to wake them up on Christmas morning. He shows Dean a dream of him cooking in the kitchen, and Cas coming up behind him to kiss his shoulder. He shows Dean a dream of them when they’re 80, sitting in their rocking chairs on the front porch of their house while they watch their grandkids play in the yard. He shows Dean a dream where they get to grow old together, be happy, die with each other in their sleep.

Dean gasps despite himself, tears flowing freely and uncaring to stop them. He closes his eyes again and pushes his own feelings through the connection.

His soul is vibrating with all the love it feels because Dean has never loved anyone or anything like he loves Cas. He wants Cas to know that he makes Dean feel brave, he makes Dean feel like there’s something worth fighting for. He shows Cas how much he trusts him, wholly and completely. He shows him a memory of him choking back tears when he thought Cas was really gone after Sam killed Lilith. How sad and confused he was because he should’ve been happy and he just felt kinda empty.

He shows Cas the alternate universe where they shared a cabin, where Cas was a wreck, where they loved each other so much and so hard that they destroyed each other. He shows Cas every moment he wanted to kiss him, every memory he has where all he could think was “I love you, don’t do this to me.” He shows Cas purgatory, all that time fighting through everything with Benny to find him, how terrified and in love he was back then. He shows Cas everything, every moment he thought he was being obvious about it and apparently wasn’t.

The memories of every time he lost Cas leak in without his permission. Him drowning in grief, drowning in alcohol, drowning in rage, just drowning. How empty and hollow he felt every time and how scared he was. Because Cas makes him brave.

And then he shows him dreams - the two of them running an inn for hunters. The two of them waking up together, eating breakfast together, starting their day together. The two of them watching movies together with Dean’s head in his lap, their loved ones safe around them. Taking care of a new generation of hunters, babysitting Garth and Sam’s kids, making dinner for Claire and Kaia when they come visit on the way home from a hunt. The two of them with Jack on Christmas morning, Cas kissing him under the mistletoe, Cas dancing with him in the kitchen while Christmas dinner cooks.

Castiel opens his eyes, and oh. Oh, this is what that feeling is that Dean radiates sometimes. He gets feelings through their connection sometimes, when Dean prays, but he was never sure what this one was. It felt familiar and like it was supposed to be happy, but never fully got there.

Contentment.

Dean wants all of that and more with him, but he just needs Cas in his life. He’ll take him in whatever way he can have him.

“Oh,” he whispers, a smile on his face. “Oh, Dean, you’ve always had me.”

Dean looks like he’s barely holding it together.

He spent so long thinking that he was crazy, he was just projecting, Cas didn’t love him like that.

And here Cas was, drowning in it too the whole damn time.

This time when Dean pulls him in for a kiss, it’s much more gentle and slow. Neither one of them is good at being tender, but they’re both so scared of each other that it’s the only way they know how to touch anymore.

“Cas, I...” he mumbles in between kisses.

Castiel shushes him, taking Dean’s bottom lip in between his teeth, “I know, Dean. I know.”

Down the hall, Sam and Jack are watching some Disney reruns together. Jack offers him the box of red vines, “Would you like one, Sam?”

He shrugs and takes one without looking away from the tv, “Thanks.”

When the commercial break comes on Jack asks, “Do you think they’re okay in there?”

Sam snorts and takes a swig of his beer, “Yeah buddy, I think they’re okay.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 50- To the East

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

A dragon spirit, guardians and attendants to the gods, is in peril. When a few hermits and the wanderers go to face the trouble, they’re not the only ones fighting against dark magic.

_______________________________________________

Not all of the hermits could afford to leave Doc behind, nor could they all make the trip in time. Avon’s insistent they leave now. She was about ready to transform into her dragon form and carry the wanderers to the eastern fjords. It was Ren that was able to calm her down just enough to think. In the end, they decided less is more. Avon doesn’t know what has her on edge, but she knows it’s not good. 

“My mentor, Flaryn, I… I have a really bad feeling.” Avon paces the floor. 

“Your mentor, like the dragon?” Mumbo squeaks, already feeling faint as he remembers facing Avon in the duel. What could possibly be causing a massive dragon trouble? 

As soon as Cub opens a portal, the wanderers are the first through. Following them is Iskall, already brandishing a spear of iskallium. Ren volunteers as well, offering up his dynamic, versatile magic. Three hermits, plus the three wanderers, set off through the portal, from the dark wooden bookstore to the verdant evergreen forests around the eastern fjords. Arriving beneath the pine canopy, someone was already waiting for them. 

“I got your message,” The long, ebony black haired sorceress reaches out, taking hold of Red’s hands and holding him close. Prolonged, pointy ears rise from the black curls like rocks from the sea, and deep purple eyes gaze upon the small group. “What’s going on?” 

“I don’t know, Selene.” Avon growls, brushing past everyone present. Her eyes wander across the tall mountains, covered in snow as they slope to the waters below. “Things just feel...disturbed. Out of balance, like a rockfall about to collapse.” 

“You called your master Flaryn, correct?” Cub questions, boots crunching heavy in the snow. Ren realizes he’s wearing sandals, and uses his imagination magic to conjure up a pair of boots. “You don’t mean to tell us that the dragon you learned your magic from is a dragon spirit? Flaryn, dragon of the east, guardian of balance, master of flame?” 

“Why does a dragon need that many surnames?” Iskall huffs. Cub’s eyes only widen when Avon gives a curt nod. Cub has gotten used to his fellow hermits being from incredible or strange backgrounds, but to master a magic from the very spirits that aid the gods? 

“Well, go big or go home, I guess.” Cub chuckles. “So...if something really is wrong, why don’t we go to Flaryn’s roost and check for ourselves?” 

“Because Flaryn lives at the top of that mountain,” Selene, now carrying Red through the snow as tall as the kipling, interjects. “And that isn’t just a mountain. That’s a fucking active volcano.” 

As if to prove her point, a low growl escapes the peak of the mountain, and smoke roils free like the maws of a dragon. And within the smoke, a massive shadow, wings outstretched, appears. Bigger than Avon’s dragon form, so big that even this far away the hermits can tell it’s great size. This was a dragon above dragons, a beast that could bend nature to it’s whim. 

And it was under attack. The dragon banks hard within the smoke, dancing with embers and tendrils of flames as lava erupts from the mountain peak. From the bottom of the mountain, the hermits can’t tell who is attacking, though they can make an educated guess on who would possibly have that much hubris to take on a messenger of the gods. 

If it wasn’t Dolios, then surely it was one of his council members. A roar shakes the ground at their feet, sending snow tumbling from trees. Selene uses her magic to create a shield, brushing aside the snow like it was little more than a gnat. Shield magic must be her power. Avon takes point, guiding the team up the mountain to the peak. Where she learned to control her magic.  A battle continues at the caldera, fire blazing from the mouth of Flaryn and strikes of magic shooting from the ground. 

A wayward breath of fire misses the combatant, orange flame burning down the mountain. Barreling for the team. Avon opens her wings to block the flame, but is little more than raising a hand to stop an avalanche. Iskall squeezes his eyes closed and waits to be burnt to a crisp by the superhot flame. 

It never comes. He waits a second longer, still braced and prepared for death. Still nothing. Iskall dares to open his eye, about to ask where his untimely death has gone. He finds it, instead, under the control of Selene. She’s ensnared the fire, dancing with the stream like it was little more than a ribbon of silk. When she’s gained full control of the flame, she turns it back up the mountain, aimed directly at the distance figure they’re approaching. 

Iskall blinks, stunned and confused. “I thought you were a shield wizard. Are you a multi-mage as well?” 

Avon doesn’t stop, leaving the others to follow. “I’m not a multi-mage, but I can do multiple forms of magic.” 

“How so?” That’s impossible. Most wizards only have one form of magic, as unique as their personalities. Multi-mages were an exception, as if the gods themselves couldn’t decide what magic the wizard would excel with. 

“Ever heard of a learned mage?” Red questions, falling into the snow and clambering through. It’s as high as his chest. When all three hermits shake their heads, he continues. “Learned wizards are born without magic, but with enough time and dedicated study are able to gain the understanding of powers and use it themselves.” 

“I had no innate magic. But I didn’t let that stop me. I’ve since learned more than twenty varieties of magic, and can perform them as well as wizards born with it.” Selene looks over her shoulder, a coy grin appearing on her face when she sees the stunned expression on the hermits’.  

Ren opens his mouth to ask a question, but the words that rise from his throat are lost to the wind, the thunder of the dragon above. It wasn’t an angered roar, not like those before, when Flaryn fought the intruder. Rather, it was more of a cry, higher pitched, sharper. Grating against their ears. Alarmed, Avon takes off, leaving the rest behind to join her mentor in the sky. Her trident is already in hand, flame erupting in a blossom of purple.

The distant figure turns, curly brown hair falling across his blue capelet, a scowl creasing the charismatic expression. “And i thought you’d be too busy handling your criminal friend to get in my way.” Dolios sneers. He attempts to blast Avon out of the sky, but the draconic mage dodges in the nick of time. “You flying lizards have always been such a pain, but imagine the honor of being the person to slay a dragon spirit.” 

“You’ll have to go through us first.” Avon hisses, then attacks. Dolios casts his wisping magic circle, corrupted by his dark magic. Just as unstable as the man that controls it. A heavy wind picks up, snapping the tops off trees and tossing Avon aside like she was little more than a leaf. With her out of the way, Dolios turns back to Flaryn. Another circle, this time summoning a swarm of wasps. The mottled monstrosities swarm the dragon, stinging and paralyzing the spirit. Forcing Flayrn to land as wings become overwhelmingly heavy. 

Iskall lets out a war cry, and plows through the deep snow, to the peak of the mountain. He shoves his shoulder, all his weight into Dolios. The two both go sprawling against the ground. Iskall can feel the heat of the erupting volcano, burning at his cheeks in waves of intense heat. 

“I think it’s time for you to meet your doom, you mega bastard.” Iskall growls, wrestling the magistrate. Dolios isn’t very strong, it turns out, all his attention focused on keeping Iskall from throwing him into the lake of lava. 

“Do you know any other adjectives except ‘mega’ and ‘doom’, or are you just too dense to learn a thesaurus?” Dolios hums. His words spark an angry fire in Iskall, frenzying him. 

Exactly how Dolios wanted it. With a swift repertoire of hand movements, Dolios casts his dark magic, and grabs hold of Iskall’s arm. Fingernails puncture under Iskall’s pale, exposed skin. Like venom from a wyrmbite, poison seeps under his skin, sending Iskall writhing backwards in pain. 

Red catches Iskall before he falls all the way down the volcano, while Selene casts not one, or two, but three different spells at once. Despite the uncertain predicament Dolios finds himself in, he’s more interested in the magic that’s trapped him rather than the fight. Through all of this, his nonchalant, charismatic smile never leaves, and never fails to infuriate the hermits. “It seems we have something in common here. Though one of us definitely chose the harder route.” 

“We are nothing alike, you asshole.” Selene hisses, reeling back and casting her magic. In the split second between the spell being summoned and taking effect, Dolios uses his own spell.. A concussive blast, just like he used in the chess match so long ago, sending the hermits and wanderers tumbling down through the snow. The mountain rumbles, snow shifting and threatening to collapse into an avalanche. To sweet away the rescue team.

“Well, at least now I have an audience to witness the beginning of a new sport.” Dolios rights himself, brushing the snow from his robes and turning back to the wasp covered, incapacitated dragon. “Dragons are so dangerous, only the strongest, bravest mages would dare slay a dragon. Think of the honor to be in such an exclusive group.” 

“Fucker!” Avon shouts, launching herself free from the snow, unleashing every once of her magic, as well as her trident, against Dolios. But he bats it away, and grabs the draconic mage from midair, hands wrapped around a wing and tipping her towards the explosive volcano below. 

“Well, if none of you are going to be a gracious audience, why not become willing participants as well? I may not have gotten the joy of seeing that criminal burn before my eyes. But I will relish in wiping you all from existence, right alongside this monster.” Dolios’s gaze turns wild, frenzied as he raises an arm. The sleeve of his robes falls back, wine red fabric and trimmed gold seams fleeing from the swirling black mist. The power of his dark magic grows stronger, more violent. Even from this far away, the hermits can feel the deadly, life draining energy that he harnesses. 

Dolios lines up the shot, so that every last hermit, every single wanderer, and eastern fire dragon is in the line of fire. A maniacal smile grows on his face, thirst for death and the feeling of pure control and power overwhelming him. The angled fingers turn, ready to snap together and release enough dark magic to destroy every living being in the line of fire. His thumb rests on his middle finger, pressing down. 

Then his eyes roll backwards, hand and body falling limp into the melting snow. None of the hermits, the wanderers, even Flaryn breathe for a second, realizing that Dolios is passed out. Not dead, unfortunately. But how? Did he overexert his dark magic? 

Another person is on the crest of the volcano. Long blue hair, straight and flat as if it had been slept on. Mostly because it was. Tired, bored eyes sparked with a hint of determination, and finned ears flick aside the pyroclastic ash from the eruption. His chest rises and falls, body exhausted from overusing his magic. 

“You don’t have much time.” Apatia breathes, body slumped. About to pass out as well. “I did as much as I could to keep him knocked out as long as possible, but his mgic took the brunt of my own. You leave, I’ll make sure the dragon spirit is okay.” 

The councilmember steps forward, offering a hand to the hermits. Ecto recoils, preferring to sink deeper into the snow she hates than be anywhere near Apatia. “Why should we trust you? You’re a part of his crony gang. You’ve been letting him, helping him do horrible things!” 

Apatia’s shoulders slump, and he looks as exhausted mentally as he is physically. “I don’t have time to explain everything. He’s going to wake up soon, and he won't fall for that trick again. Let’s just say I… I’m tired of just letting bad things happen to good people.” 

Red’s the first up, the two kiplings looking at one another. Apatia offers a soft nod, some unspoken conversation between the two. Avon does her best to ease the pain and help her mentor from the wasp attack, while Cub opens a portal. 

“Can’t we just drop him into the volcano?” Ren questions. “This could finally all be over.” 

“It won’t stop his work, not with Eurynomos in the forest. Waiting.” The hermits glance at one another. Eurynomos. Is that the name of the beast they found? “Just...send him back to Milliara. We can’t have people wondering what’s happened to their beloved magistrate as well.”

“Just one stab?” Avon questions, still furious he called her a monster. “He deserves more than what we’re letting him off with.”

To Cub’s chagrin, he knows that Apatia is right. As much as he’d love to finish Dolios off now, to get this over with, nothing is ever that easy. Once Dolios is gone, there team of rescuers step through their own portal. The wanderers first, and the hermits following after. 

Iskall steps through last, but turns while he’s in between places. Looking at the councilmember. Apatia looks back, exhausted. “Know that you hermits aren’t alone. This is your fight, but you have others on your side now too.”

[faecaribou]

Broken Glasses and Bonding Sessions

Erik Derekson & Dr. Iplier have a moment where Erik gets hurt and Dr. Iplier doesn’t understand how. Based off a personal experience no one can relate to at all lol. Placed on ao3 as well:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618878

“Dr. Iplier?”

The doctor turns around, smiling as he greets the other ego.

“Erik! What can I do for-” Dr. Iplier stops suddenly, catching sight of Erik’s face.

The younger ego shuffles his feet nervously as Dr. Iplier leaps forward, fingers tracing but not touching the large growing bruise on Erik’s face.

“Oh, dear! What happened!” Dr. Iplier gasps, examining the injury. The skin was not broken, but the bruise was fresh and painful looking.

“It was an accident,” Erik says, twitching away from the doctor’s touch. “I was wondering if you could fix my glasses. Dr. Iplier’s eyes grow wide as Erik holds out his glasses, completely snapped in half. Dr. Iplier reaches out and takes them gently and examines them, surprised.

“You snapped these perfectly in half,” He says, holding the symmetrical pieces in his hands. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling: awe, maybe? Shock? Erik isn’t the type to break his glasses on purpose, but surely such an even break, combined with a bruise, couldn’t have been an accident?

“Did someone break these on purpose?” He asks, voice low and gentle, trying to calm Erik down from his anxious state. Dr.Iplier hopes that no one has been bullying Erik, but if one of the egos were, then he would alert Dark without any hesitation. But Erik only flushes, face bright red, and avoids eye contact.

“It was an accident,” he mumbles, twisting his yellow cloth in his hands nervously. Dr. Iplier frowns, eyes drawn to the movement, and catches sight of small bruises on Erik’s hands.

“What’s this?” He asks, reaching out and gently taking Erik’s hands. Erik twitches, like a suppressed flinch, but lets the doctor take a look at his hands.

“It’s nothing,” Erik says, but the doctor only frowns. The bruises were minuscule compared to Erik’s face, and fainter too, so there is nothing for the older ego to do. He lets go of Erik’s hands reluctantly. He glances at Erik’s face, but there was little he could do there, and Erik looks a little panicked, eyes fixed firmly on the floor, so the doctor slowly returns his attention to the glasses.

Ignoring the fact that the glasses were entirely snapped, in the center of the nose bridge, the glasses would seem fine, intact save for small scrapes. But certainly, now unusable. And beyond repair.

“These will need a new frame,” Dr. Iplier says reluctantly. “Would you like to make sure your prescription is up to date before we make new ones?” Erik thinks about it, then nods, so Dr. Iplier takes out an eye chart and some of Erik’s old glasses. Over the years, the doctor’s equipment had grown to fit the needs of the various egos, as they seemed to think that they wouldn’t need any other doctor as long as they Dr. Iplier, but the fact was that Dr. Iplier was good for checkups, some emergency room action, and therapy. He did not start into existence specializing in Dark’s broken back, he did not know the optometry needed for The Host’s eyes or Erik’s glasses, and he did not memorize every mental illness available or how to cure Wilford of his obvious insanity. No, all of Dr. Iplier’s much-needed knowledge came from hard studying, late nights, and The Host’s help. The doctor sighs and calls out loud for the Host, confident that the blind ego would know he was being asked for, and what the powerful ego could do to help.

Surely enough, not a full minute passed before the equipment appears in the doctor’s office. Erik startles slightly, but Dr. Iplier only thanks The Host with an easy smile. He gestures for Erik to step forward. As Dr. Iplier leans forward towards Erik’s face, he catches sight of a thin red line across the bridge of Erik’s nose and frowns. It was just where Erik’s glasses sat, skin red and angry but unharmed. The ego in question only watches Dr. Iplier with a curious and nervous expression.

“Were you wearing your glasses when they broke?” The doctor asks, worried.

“It was an accident,” Erik repeats. Dr. Iplier frowns, creases on his forehead growing deeper. He couldn’t see how falling would’ve broken the younger ego’s glasses like that, unless, perhaps, he fell on something. The idea of Erik being bullied seemed more like a possibility, and Dr. Iplier finds himself growing angry. Erik catches sight of the doctor’s expression and looks slightly afraid, but offers up another piece of information.

“I fell.”

Dr. Iplier frowns, acknowledging his other idea besides bullies.

“On something?” He asks, and Erik flushes again, and Dr. Iplier recognizes it as embarrassment.

“Into a corner.”

Dr. Iplier makes a worried noise.

“Into a corner?” He repeats, and reaches out to Erik’s head, searching for any bumps under the younger ego’s hair. He finds nothing, to some relief, but Erik pulls himself out of the doctor’s grasp.

“I just stood up too fast,” Erik says, shifting in his chair uncomfortably, and Dr. Iplier pauses, confused.

“You just stood up too fast.” He repeats, and Erik nods. “Like vertigo?” Erik doesn’t have vertigo.

But the sweater-wearing ego nods anyway, and the older ego narrows his eyes.

“Describe the experience.” He commands, and Erik looks worried but complies.

“I stood up, took a couple of steps, and my vision went black,” Erik starts. “I was in the middle of the hallway, I think, I couldn’t see, but King asked if he could get by, so I tried to step to the side even though my balance felt weird, and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor and my glasses aren’t on my face.”

Dr. Iplier looks at Erik. There was no way that was vertigo.

“Erik,” he says slowly, “That sounds like you blacked out for a moment. You don’t remember falling?” Erik shakes his head.

“I was standing and then I was on the ground and my face hurt.”

Genuinely concerned now, the doctor reached out and checked Erik’s head again, making sure he didn’t miss any bumps last time, but the result was the same. Quickly, the doctor grabbed a pen and held it in front of Erik.

“Follow with your eyes,” he commands, and Erik does so. Nothing. The doctor holds back a growl of frustration and worry.

“Have you felt nauseous? Head hurts?’ He asks, but Erik shakes his head, acting like everything is fine. He doesn’t seem to regret shaking his head either, which the doctor notes.

“Only my face hurts, here,” He gestures to the bruise, and Dr. Iplier nods.

“You got a nasty bruise there,” he agrees. He frowns. He didn’t seem to have a concussion, which is both relieving and worrying. What had caused Erik to blackout?

“You said King was there?” Erik nods. “Can you go get him?”

Erik nods and stands with ease. He leaves the room steadily, and Dr. Iplier watches him go.

“Host,” he says slowly, “I think I need to give a blood test to Erik.”

The equipment appears by Dr. Iplier’s side quickly, a blood-stained note accompanying it.

“Do you need help diagnosing him?” It says in a sloppy scrawl, and Dr. Iplier bites his lip.

“I might,” he admits.

King and Erik enter the room a second later, and Dr. Iplier gestures them to sit.

“King,” he greets. “I don’t suppose you can tell me what you saw when-”

A flash of cold enters the room, and out of the corner of Dr. Iplier’s eyes his spots a black blur. He turns to face Dark as the grayscale ego enters with The Host in tow.

“I hear someone was injured?” Dark says gruffly, glitching sporadically in a way that suggests nervousness.

“I’m sure King’s story will catch us all up,” Dr. Iplier says, turning back to King, who looks paler as he realizes that something might be wrong.

“What happened when Erik fell?” The doctor asks, ignoring the two most powerful egos behind him.

“Sure,” King says, looking worried as well. “I entered the hallway, and he was just standing there at the other end, staring off into the distance, or so I thought. I asked if I could get by and he didn’t reply. He just stood there for another moment and then just fell over.”

“He just fell over,” Dr. Iplier repeats, and King nods and stands up to demonstrate.

“Yeah, he was like this-” King stands stiffly with his arms at his sides and legs together- “and then he just fell forward!” King leans forward, letting gravity pull him forward until he automatically sticks a foot out to steady himself. “Except he didn’t catch himself. Just fell, like a statue knocked over.”

Dr. Iplier looks at Erik carefully, noting the tight grip the youngest ego had on his yellow cloth.

“Thanks, King,” he says finally. “That’s all.” King stands reluctantly, glancing at Dark and Erik before Dr. Iplier catches his eyes. He tries to smile reassuringly at King, but the truth is, he is worried. He doesn’t know what’s wrong. He must do a good job at hiding it, though, because King seems to relax and darts out the door.

“What is it?” Dark asks, voice low, and the doctor could only shrug.

“I need to do a blood test,” he says, admitting his confusion. He turns to grab a needle.

“The Host will repair Erik’s glasses,” The Host declares, and turns his back determinedly as Dr. Iplier draws Erik’s blood. Honestly, the number of egos afraid of needles in this mansion was staggering, and not at all helpful for the doctor’s job.

As soon as Dr. Iplier sets up the machine, the Host turns around again, holding Erik’s glasses, now intact. The Host offers them to the youngest ego wordlessly, and once they are taken back, the Host turns to the machine.

“The machine hums, finishing its diagnosis, and begins to spell out the results,” The Host narrates, and Dr. Iplier realizes the Host is speeding up the results.

“Can you not tell what is wrong with Erik using your narrations?” Dark snaps irritably and The Host frowns in Dark’s direction.

‘The Host does not want to risk narrating wrong and giving Erik a second problem on top of what is wrong with him now,” The Host snaps back, and Dark steps back a little, the closest thing to an apology that the demonic ego would offer right now, and the Host turns back to the machine wordlessly. Enough time spent with the blind ego grants the doctor the knowledge that the Host has forgiven Dark, but Erik glances between the two worriedly, so Dr. Iplier pats his shoulder in silent reassurance.

The machine beeps to announce its completion of analyzing Erik’s blood, and the tension in the room ramps up. Dr. Iplier leans forward and reads the results, making a noise when he sees what’s wrong.

“Low iron,” he says out loud, and some of the tension dissipates. The doctor reaches into his cabinet and pulls out some iron supplements.

“Take two a day, and no more, or else you’re going to get badly sick, and no less, or you’re going to keep passing out.” The doctor instructs and frowns less. “And drink more water. I noticed your hands were rather dry.”

Erik takes the supplements with no small amount of relief and then exits the room quickly, leaving the other three egos behind.

“The Host is glad it was not something worse,” The Host says finally.

“Low iron is still pretty bad, you know how he looked,” Dr. Iplier counters and The Host shrugs slightly, shoulders tense, and the doctor accepts the apology for what it is. Dr. Iplier takes the health of all his family seriously, no matter how easily fixable, and The Host knows this.

“If I could grow gray hair, this would’ve given me quite a few,” Dark grumbles, voice less glitchy than before. He runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly exhausted.

Our family can be so stressful,” The doctor commiserates. He pokes Dark for emphasis, unafraid of the eldest ego. “Like you. Get some sleep.”

The powerful ego only sighs, a moment of weakness reserved for the pair of older egos. 

“Maybe I will,” he allows, and then glitches away, hopefully teleporting to his room.

“The Doctor will need a bigger office if he is going to keep all of this equipment,” The Host notes, and Dr. Iplier nods in agreement.

“Definitely,” He agrees, then hums and pats the chair next to him. “While you’re here, you should get your bandages changed.” “Absolutely not!” The Host yelps, making his way towards the door. “They aren’t that filthy yet!”

Dr. Iplier watches him scramble off, annoyance growing.

“It seems my job is never finished,” he complains to no one, and a fond smile threatens to tug his lips up, but he pushes it down.

“Oh well.” He grabs a clean roll of bandages and leaves the room, turning the light off as he goes.

[supercalvin]

I see your ficlets are open and I wanted to request more superhero!merlin . i didn't know i liked that until i read yours lol. preferably hurt/comfort because i love that too. also I just wanted to say your fics are amazing

I’m going to be honest @elizabethleestorms…I have no idea which superhero AU you mean, because I think I’ve written a couple, but that doesn’t matter, I’m delighted by this prompt. Sorry this took so long, thank you for waiting.

Really tried my hand at #whump and I ended up writing a very long ficlet again.

(Not intentional, I was writing this already before I heard about Chadwick Boseman. RIP to the King.)

Prompts + Ficlets

***

It had started small.

Merlin would use his magic to save an elderly couple from a mugging. A man about to fall onto the train tracks would find himself falling back onto the concrete. He would trip a bloke who was bothering a girl in the streets.

Magic was banned in Camelot and had been for over thirty years, and Merlin had grown up learning to hide his magic. Not even his closet friends knew. But when he started university in Citadel City, Merlin had felt an overwhelming need to use his magic. There were so many problems he could fix and so many people he could help.

So it started small and soon escalated into something a bit more complicated. He started going out at night, slipping on a mask to hide his identity, and saving people from whatever he could find. Most people thanked him and quickly ran off, freaked out by the sorcerer in a mask. But then word got around, gossip and whispers about the sorcerer who would swoop in at just the right moment. People would try to ask him who he was, so Merlin had to learn to teleport so he could get away from them.

Then he started to up his game. He would listen to the police scanners and seek out places he knew criminals loitered. He was becoming a bit of a legend. People had a lot of different names for him, up until a pack of wyverns attacked the city. That was the first time he had been spotted during the day and photographed. His blurry figure was all over the news for a week. It had been a hassle, but it had earned him a proper title. Dragon Lord.

It had been years since he had first started being ‘Dragon Lord.’ He had gotten into a routine. He worked at the police station during the day, gathered intel as a lowly administrative assistant, and then went out at night as ‘Dragon Lord.’ He was exhausted most days, with little sleep to spare, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He was exercising his magic, helping people. and he had started a rather heated debate on the magic ban in Citadel City.

All was going well for Merlin.

Until his boss, DI Arthur Pendragon found out about his magic.

It had been an accident, of course. The only other person who knew about his magic besides his family was Deputy Lance DuLac, whom Merlin had saved from a fluke griffin attack back in his university days. Merlin had saved Arthur’s ass from a few operations-gone-wrong, but Arthur still didn’t know that his assistant and Dragon Lord were one and the same.

Until the night when Merlin had been out as ‘Dragon Lord’ having heard about an arms deal planned by Cenred Cain, an infamous crime boss. But apparently Arthur and his team had also been keeping an eye on Cenred, because they had stopped the deal before Merlin could interfere.

It was all a bit of blur. The adrenaline in his veins and the magic in the air making his memories fuzzy.

Dragon Lord and Arthur had been cornered as the building was about to come down, and although he was able to create a safety-bubble around them, the backlash burned part of Merlin’s disguise from his body and face. He woke up with a horrible headache and Arthur’s face hovering over him, looking equal parts horrified and furious.

After that night, Arthur hadn’t spoken to him about it. But to be fair, Arthur had not said much to Merlin at all. Arthur had sworn that he wasn’t about to arrest Merlin, but that didn’t mean they were friends. No, Arthur made it clear hat he was done with Merlin.

Merlin figured it was a fair deal. Merlin had saved Arthur’s life and in turn Arthur wouldn’t arrest Merlin for several acts of sorcery. It didn’t mean Merlin wasn’t heartbroken. He wished Arthur would understand that magic wasn’t evil and that Merlin just wanted to do good in the world.

So over the past week Merlin had not gotten much sleep, to say the least. After Arthur had found out, Merlin had trouble sleeping, which was never good because his night-and-day schedule. Then there was the fact that his magic had been exhausted after stopping a building from collapsing on top of him and Arthur. But that had never stopped him from going out. Crime didn’t stop just because Merlin was a bit tired.

So when a bulette attacked downtown Citadel City, Merlin was already off to a bad start. Bulettes were as large as cars and built like tanks with armor plating all over their bodies. They lived underground, and although the bulette was just minding its own business, it was causing buildings to sink into the ground and minor quakes to rock the city. So when Merlin had tried to gently coax it back out of Citadel City, it had only felt the need to defend itself.

Which meant it started attacking people.

Merlin would be the first to admit that he wasn’t at his peak power either. His magic was still tired from the week previous and his fight with Arthur had mentally drained him. He had coped by going out more at night, but that meant he had only accumulated a handful of hours of sleep over the last seven days.

It barely flinched at the enchanted spears Merlin threw at it. Moving the ground beneath it did little to stop it. Burning it only made it angry. His movements were slower, barely dodging it’s attacks. He made rookie mistakes by trying to attack the bulette’s armor in the first place. Normally he would be able to evaluate its attacks and predict its next movements, but his mind was moving too slow.

He was a wreck, to say the least.

Then the bulette used its thickly armored tail to slam Merlin into a nearby lorry, which rocked with the impact. Merlin remembered hearing the crunch of metal, but nothing until he woke up to someone shaking him.

“Dragon Lord, you have to get up! Please! Sir! Please! It’s coming back!” the voice sounded young and very frightened. Merlin opened his eyes to find a young kid, eyes burning gold as the boy tried to wake Merlin’s magic with his own.

Merlin gasped, his entire body aching as soon as he was conscious again. His vision spun in and out for a moment, and he felt overwhelmingly nauseous. Concussion, he thought dimly.

“You have to get out of here,” Merlin grunted as he tried to get up. His ribs were killing him.

The boy shook his head, “You’re hurt…”

Merlin had to hold his breath as he got to hit feet, the pain almost making him black out as his ribs shifted to the new position. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breathes, although every inhale and exhale felt like a thousand knives.

“Get to safety,” Merlin said, letting his magic wash over him. It wasn’t a spell he used often. It took too much energy and he was already tired as it was, but he was desperate. The kid scrambled back as Merlin began to glow gold, rising above the crumbled asphalt.

Merlin’s vision turned entirely gold and he spotted the bulette’s weak point, right under its front legs, where the armor didn’t cover. With his last enchanted spear, Merlin gored the beast.

Merlin dropped to the ground, his head spinning and his vision going black. He couldn’t pass out in public. It was too dangerous. One last spell, he thought. Fingers crossed that he would make it back safely.

He teleported into his flat, recognized that he had made it successfully, and then he dropped to the floor like someone had cut the strings from a marionette.

Merlin’s whole body hurt. Even when he wasn’t entirely conscious, he was aware of that. The blunt force trauma had certainly broken his ribs and given him a hell of a concussion.

He was aware of someone moving him from the floor, arranging his limbs onto his bed. Then he felt someone open his mouth slip some pills onto his tongue and guide him to drink water, then wiping up his face when he choked on the water and it spilled it over his face.

When he woke again it was to a dull feeling that he recognized as heavy painkillers. He opened his eyes to find Arthur hovering over him, checking his pupils with a flashlight.

“You’re not a doctor,” Merlin mumbled, not coherent enough to fully process what was happening.

“No, but you refused to go to A&E. So here I am.”

“I did?”

Arthur sighed, turning to Merlin’s bedside table where there was a glass of water with a straw.

“Drink. You need fluids. You’ve been out of it for a day.”

Merlin obeyed, his mind too foggy to argue.

Arthur left the room and Merlin was left to stare at the ceiling, watching his vision blur for a few seconds before he drifted off again.

He was a bit more coherent when he woke again, this time to Arthur whispering, “I know it hurts, but I need you to tell me where it hurts.” Arthur pushed down the bed sheet and prodded his ribs, watching Merlin’s reactions carefully.

“Hold still. I’m going to give you some lidocaine, okay?”

Merlin didn’t think he had much of a choice, but if it would stop his ribs from hurting, Merlin wasn’t going to complain. After Arthur injected the lidocaine, he softly ran a hand over Merlin’s numbed ribs. “Better?”

Merlin nodded, although the movement hurt his head. He realized the only light was his desk lamp, and even that minimal light caused him to flinch.

“Why are you doing this?” Merlin asked.

Arthur’s face was in shadow, but Merlin could see the pinched expression anyway.

“It was all over the news, Merlin. The live video of Dragon Lord dropping like a stone. Then you disappeared after looking like you were about to faint. I rushed over to your flat as soon as I could.”

Merlin smacked his lips which were cracked and dry. Arthur lifted the cup of water again, angling the straw to Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin took a drink and then managed to say, “But I thought…Aren’t you angry with me?”

“Of course I am, Merlin.” Arthur snapped, “I’m furious that you would keep this from me. I don’t get it, and I don’t trust you, but…”

“But?” Merlin swallowed thickly, his head pounding.

“But you’ve been saving so many people. And this…” Arthur gestured to Merlin’s body. Merlin looked down, wincing at the movement. He had gathered a fair few amount of ‘battle scars’ over the years. Burns, lacerations, and general bruising came with the job. Currently Merlin’s entire torso was a horrible splotchy mess of black and blue with tinges of green.

“You’re putting your own life on the line for people who would sentence you to a life in prison… I don’t understand it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see right from wrong.”

Merlin gave a weak smile, “I think that’s you saying I was right for once.”

Arthur shook his head, “Merlin…”

“I know,” Merlin sighed, his ribs protesting at the heavy breath despite the lidocaine injections. “I just want to help. I just…My magic has to be for something, Arthur. All this power and I can’t use it to help people?”

Arthur frowned, his hand coming up to gently push back Merlin’s hair from his brow.

“We’ll talk about this later. You’re still too tired. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

Merlin nodded fractionally, his eyes already drifting shut, watching Arthur get up and head for the door.

“Arthur…”

Arthur turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

Arthur gave a small smile, “You too. Get some rest.”

***

Prompts + Ficlets

[disasteromnia]

a hoe really out here doing this huh…anyway this is the short version of her profile and I’ll edit it once I complete everything….god I hope that happens soon

☃ 【Alesia’s Profile】 ☃

❄ Name Data  ❄ 

Name

Xxxx Xxxx Xxxxxxx

Alias

Alesia

Katakana

アリシア 

Nickname(s)

Ali

Chaos Trio Leader, Headache #1 (by Crowley)

Mom (by Ace & Kalim)

Tsundere (by close friends, usually just to make her more flustered)

イーラ (a hint to her real name!)

Etymology

Alesia : “noble natured” ; a variant of the name Alice, which was derived from the Germanic name Adalheidis

❄ Personal Data  ❄ 

Gender

Female

Sexuality

Bi

Birthday

"January 18th"

Age

XX

Horoscope

Capricorn

Blood Type

AB (Rh-negative)

Hometown

According to Ali, it’s always snowing in her hometown

Race

“Human”

Song Themes

“It’s Not Like I Like You!!” (painfully obvious lol)

❄ Professional Data  ❄ 

Affiliation(s)

Night Raven College

Dorm

Diasomnia

Year

2nd Year

Best subject(s)

Sciences

Hobbies

Calligraphy, playing guitar, singing, stargazing

Under the cut : Personality, Background, Relationship, and Magic

❄ Personality ❄

Ali is a very gentle and friendly person, often befriending most people easily. She can also be quite reckless, always doing whatever she feels at the moment instead of thinking things through. She is often out causing chaos in Night Raven College with others (notably, Choco and Wende) much to the staff’s chagrin. She is also self aware of her annoyance and proudly claims herself as a 12 yr old, as if it were some sort of medal. 

Despite her usual childishness, Ali is very capable of stepping up to the responsibility when she feels like it. Usually, it’s when one of her friends is feeling down and needs someone to talk to. While she does allow others to come to her for comfort, she is very hesitant on relying on others for emotional support. She has a few people she openly cries to, but she never tells them why.

When she feels like the other party is comfortable enough with her, she will continue to talk to no end. Often, these conversations are without rhyme or reason as she just genuinely enjoys being able to be with friends. There is, however, a particular topic that she refuses to speak of. No matter how close someone may be to her, she will never talk about her time before Night Raven College. If anyone were to ask her why she refused to talk, she’d answer vaguely like how it was just a normal life before quickly changing topics. If someone were to try and pry the information out of her, she immediately acts cold and defensive, and the air around her starts becoming freezing. Depending on how hard they try to pry, she will not hesitate to cut off that person from her life right then and there.

As long as someone doesn’t try and dig into her past, she will remain fiercely loyal and caring for them, no matter if they were close friends or not. However, this blind loyalty is usually her downfall, especially when it comes to a certain contract-making dorm.

Ali isn’t quick to get mad, and is usually unaffected by whatever people say of her. Most times, she takes any insults as compliments. The only time she ever openly expresses anger, aside from someone trying to pry her past out of her, is when people point out her feelings for two certain individuals. She is very tsundere, openly expressing that she has no such feelings despite being beet red.

Alignment

Chaotic Neutral

Strengths: 

Loyal, caring, is usually up to no good so it won’t be a boring time, does anything just to have a good time, great friend to bring along to buffets, unaffected by most things, either helps you or lets you copy her homework, has enough confidence to do stupid things in public, great for hugs during a hot day because her body feels cold

Weaknesses

Is usually up to no good so expect to get in trouble, tsundere, blind loyalty usually leads to her in very unfavorable situations. childishness that makes her look apathetic at times, horrible sleeping schedule, very reckless

Skills

Quick to learn (but never studies), decent flexibility and has good lower body strength, natural air cooler, guitar serenading

❄ Appearance ❄

Hair

“Dark brown,” her hair reaches down to her shoulder area and usually has a a portion of it tied up with a green or black ribbon. 

Eyes

“Black eyes,” however when using magic there is a strange pale green tint.

Height

165 cm / 5 ft. 4 in.

Weight

120 lbs / 54 kg

B/W/H

35-27-36 in. / 88-68-91 cm

Chest

34C (US)

❄ Background ❄

Background story unlocks at Bond Level 10

❄ Magic ❄

Ice Magic 

Ali is very proficient in using ice magic, and often uses it to cause mischief. However, when she becomes too flustered her will accidentally freeze anything within a 3 meter radius of her.

Freezing Arrows : an offensive-type spell that can be very deadly ; a large oval-shaped ice block appears in front of her and continuously shoots arrows made of ice. It is able to not only freeze anything it touches, but impale her targets. The spell ends once the ice block has been fully used up or if destroyed.

Hailstorm : an offensive-type spell similar to Freezing Arrows, but is not as deadly. Instead of shooting arrows, the ice block shoots chunks of ice, and at most it can give a concussion and some cuts and bruises.

Frost Flower Shield : a defensive-type spell ; she creates a large shield resembling a flower. Penetrating through the thick ice is very difficult, even if it is up against fire magic.

Ice Wall : a defensive-type spell ; often used to create an obstacle for whoever is trying to catch her. (i.e. Crowley)

Ice Floor : Ali freezes the floor underneath her, making it very hard for anyone to stand on it.

Snow Maiden’s Dance : A fighting style she created by herself, she creates ice sword projectiles imbued with other elements. It was based off the exotic traditional dances she saw as a child. She currently has 5 dances. She often uses these for show, but makes sure not to put too much power into it. (to be expanded with what 5 elements she can use it with)

Water Magic

She uses water magic as an extension to her Ice Magic. She doesn’t use it as much, and often uses water for healing.

❄ Relationships ❄

Canon Characters ; from Ali’s perspective

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia : Ah Mr. Dorm Leader! Mhmm mhmm, I’m not all too close to him, but he makes it easy to tease Sebek.

Lilia Vanrouge : Ah, the grandpa! He’s much easier to talk to, we actually get along fairly well. I just wished he’d stop teasing me.

Silver : Has a VERY punchable face. I would kick him in the gut…What?! No, I don’t like that moron! DEFINITELY DO NOT!

Sebek Zigvolt : Ah, that brat. He’s fun to mess with. Any time I join them for tea time and Malleus isn’t there, I make sure to give him a heart attack. Heh.

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts : Listen, if you’re gonna threaten to cut my head off make sure to actually do it, coward!

Ace Trappola : MY SON! I love you so much you are my precious child I-

Deuce Spade: Also has a very punchable face. Of course I mean what I say- I DO NOT LIKE HIM EITHER

Trey Clover : Broccoli? I don’t talk to him much, but he looks really cool with his bike. I think his hair looks stupid tho.

Cater Diamond : HEEEEEEEEY BROOOOOOOOOO! We make lots of inappropriate jokes together and it usually ends in both of us choking on a drink or food (laugh)

Octavinelle

All three of them are the end of me. That is all.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim : MY OTHER SON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BOTH OF YOU ARE SO PRECIOUS TO ME (ugly mother tears)

Jamil Viper : Jamil I swear to god if you do anything to Kalim you better be ready to catch these frozen hands-

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit : I know he can be…a bit over bearing, but thanks to him my skin is clear even though I sleep horribly. His fashion tips tho…they’re 50/50 for me.

Epel Felmier : YOU ARE MY SON. DON’T ASK, NOW LET ME LOVE YOU MY CHILD-

Rook Hunt : The one time we talked he asked me to put an apple on my head while he blindfolds himself and try to shoot it. Thankfully, it really did hit the apple. Though truth be told, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud : Honestly, sometimes I forget what actually looks like. Whenever I think of him I just think of his mains in our game. Ah- yeah, I play with him from time to time. You would not like to see him in competitive play.

Ortho Shroud : He’s such a good kid, but what’s with his feet-

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar : HOW IS HE SO LAZY AND HAVE A GOOD BODY!? BOY SHOW ME YOUR TIPS-

Jack Howl : One time I punched him and he said I hit like a grandma. He was not wrong. Oh, and don’t tell him this, but I have his number saved as “Extra Virgin Olive Oil.”

Ruggie Bucchi : He’s basically…my spirit animal. Hah. 

[singingcookie]

HELLO YES CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT ADORABLE CARRY AND HOW THEY DIDNT REALIZE HE WAS STILL HOLDING HER AT FIRST PLS AND THANMK

Ah yes. So like, fun fact: this chapter also turned out really different from its outline. Well. Everything but the last scene turned out really different. But I have fun stuff about that and pretty much everything else so...another outline comparison?

Obviously spoilers for chapter 21 of DoJ under the cut

Back to Ochako’s pov

This should start up incredibly chaotic. The sound of screams, being bumped into from people scurrying either to or from the where the flames are congregated. Ochako’s nose is burning from the smoke, and she has to cough to even take a deeper breath in.

Details are hard lol! I tried writing down notable sensory details to get me going but it still took ages to write the first page or so. Finding ways to word the images in my head and have them come across so hectic was really hard for me 😩

There’s a question of what they should do when Deku’s phone rings. It’s Todoroki. Ochako stands close to Deku’s side to try and listen but she can barely make anything out with all the commotion going on. She almost contemplates asking for speaker but, all things considered, that obviously wouldn’t fare any better. Deku mostly just seems to be agreeing and listening until he finally says that they’ll do their best and hangs up. Todoroki said that Iida had called Aizawa immediately. They were closer to the havoc and they’re helping lead the effort to get civilians to safety and any possible need for triage. Luckily a decent number of the class was already nearby so some are fending them off and other are helping with the effort to grab civilians.

So as you can see here things............deviated. A lot. I had a really hard time actually planning out how this chapter was gonna go and I pretty much wrote up this part of the outline going “okay this is probably gonna change but these are the basics. The basics I have to get across.

So as you can see, originally I thought of having izuocha like....idk too far away? Too in shock? To jump to action. Which was, honestly, very dumb on past me’s part but they were quick to say “fuck you we’re helping” like of course.

They wanted to rush over to deal with the trees and help but I was standing there like these guys are so far away how tf is this gonna work. And that’s when it was like “omg, bridal carry.”

I think I had to break from writing after deciding that though. And I was telling my little sister about it while we were in the car. And we kind of mutually came up with the scene. We played around with the scenario a little bit, and it was originally a jokey thing. But after we talked about it, and she agreed (as a Tododeku shipper) that she thought it flowed well and made sense, I decided to include it. It was so vivid though we could both imagine as a scene in the manga so a day or two later I decided I had to commission it.

I’ll be forever grateful that @jellojolteon was up for the task and did it so so wonderfully. 💖💖💖

We also were joking around about the Momo thing and after telling @savetheirhearts-midoriya about it but saying I thought it was too goofy to include, she told me I had to include it. And who was I to refuse? Lmao

Looking back on this though idk how I thought that that it was gonna be chaos but still chill enough to be able to have a phone call smh. Luckily I’m not super strict on my outline being the end all be all lmao

I definitely like the way it turned out a lot better though. Did a good job with showing the class’s self reliance. Especially considering they’re in third year now. It shows off that they have this kind of thing down pat now. Kinda like how the Big Three came off in canon.

They decide they should try to tell other civilians where to go (maybe check how long the street usually is in Kanagawa for the festival) in the midst of that, they see Toogata and Amajiki with Eri. They explain they were with Aizawa but he felt it might be best if they go to safety with the others. They didn’t want to leave Toogata and Eri alone but Amajiki will go back into the fray once he’s guaranteed they’ve made it safely. They explain where to find Aizawa and they take off.

Maybe include a conversation with Ochako saying that, all things considered, at least this attack is happening where a handful of pros and a majority of the 3rd year hero course were out tonight. Deku wonders if that’s really much of a relief. “Was it just a coincidence or…?”

Ochako blinks in surprise, about to stew on that thought a little more when there’s a scream just up ahead. A little further ahead, there’s two girls, twins from the look of it. One is on the ground, unconscious and disheveled as well as a bloodied arm.

ooooooh right, again, more differences here. I never altered the fact that I changed the setting in my outline LOL. Mostly because I knew and it seemed pointless to change something so small when I already know lol. I wanted to include Eri a little here but when I thought about it it just felt like it would slow down the pace of the scene. And it just felt too....pushy? Idk something about it just felt off. So I decided to cut it. I also changed where Aizawa came into play but I’ll get to that in a few lol.

Second and third paragraphs though are the same. I knew I wanted to highlight the fact that is was very likely targeted.

Aizawa arrives right as they do and they ask what happened. The sister explains that they were wandering around the festival looking for her boyfriend who was further down. She started to go off ahead, but some crazy girl popped out of the alley and attacked her sister. She ran off before the twin could come back over. She tried to stem the bleeding but--

Ochako says they’ll take it from here as she goes to join the girl on the side with the bleeding arm. She says that she feels bad doing this since Inko worked so hard but she tears off some of the bottom of her yukata, to wrap the wound.

Alright so, I changed where Aizawa came in mostly because I felt like, upon, writing it, he would be coming from further into the festival than they were. And they’re up toward to front, so it only made sense to have him show up late....not to mention that he might notice that the girl (Toga) was acting a little off. So I had to limit his exposure LOL

The story was pretty much the same and, real talk, I wanted an excuse to free up Ochako’s movement since a yukata is a little limiting. But I definitely wanted to feel the ache that came with messing up something that we spent so much time waiting for. I went ahead and added some details about Toga looking a little too long before this next part just to drive home that something really doesn’t feel right about this girl...

The twin watches her, seemingly entranced, an unblinking expression on her face. “You really know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Oh well, I’m a hero in training!” Ochako’s a little embarrassed. “It’s all in the job.”

“We should get both of you over to triage,” Deku notes, looking toward Aizawa. This seems to snatch the other girl’s attention from Ochako’s deftly moving hands. “They can help check on her properly there.” The sister suddenly jumps to her feet, suddenly remembering her boyfriend’s further ahead and alone. She has to go find him and takes off

“Ah wait!! Eraserhead, Uraraka-san, I’ll go make sure she’ll make it okay, be right back!” He takes off too.

Pretty much the same, as far as what’s conveyed, I think. Especially highlighting that something’s wrong with this twin and that Ochako’s uncomfortable. Though, here I didn’t spell out the latter as clearly as I felt it during outlining.

Main difference is who’s saying what and--again, tbh I like how the final result came out better. Toga pretty much dips as soon as Aizawa shows up. Because 1) Aizawa’s caught her in the act before (during Overhaul arc with Rock Lock) and 2) his quirk immediately takes off hers. So she knew she had to get out ASAP once she saw who it was. I also changed Deku’s “be right back” because what the point of coming back if they’re taking the passed out one to where triage is? Dumb lol

Ochako wonders if she should maybe use her Quirk on the woman to help make it quicker for them to transport her. Aizawa says he’s not sure that’s necessary. He doesn’t want to send her or Midoriya off alone because it sounds like a lot more of the League than what they’ve actually seen. And...yeah, it’s awfully weird that they haven’t really seen a lot of them. Did they really concentrate their attack closer to the entrance? But then there’s the person who attacked this woman--

Her thought is cut off when Aizawa continues, “And if I go to take her, you won’t know when to release your Quirk. It’s probably better not to”

The first part of this is confusing--likely because originally I planned on Deku coming back but once I realized that was a little futile I had to rephrase how this was worded lol. But no matter what I didn’t want anyone to think too hard about who was doing the attacking yet (I figured people would get it by then but I still wanted to keep it low profile).

The girl between them suddenly wakes up, startled, and they assure her that they’re heroes on the scene. “It seems you were attacked and passed out from the fall or possibly received a blow to the head.”

“And you guys got rid of her?”

“No, the villain seemed to take off when your sister came over to help.”

“What? But--”

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s okay! She went to go find her boyfriend but she and our friend’ll be--”

“No, that’s.” She looks between them seemingly more dazed and confused. “I don’t have a sister.”

Aizawa says that she received a blow to the head. It’s possible that she has a concussion and she’s a little confused. “No, I’m telling you I don’t have a sister!”

“I’m an only child, and I came here alone!”

This whole exchange was more or less the same. To be honest, most of this last scene is lmao. This scene (unlike the rest of the chapter outline) was super vivid when I planned it out and whenever scenes are vivid, they almost always play out exactly the same as my outline lol

That said, chapter 22 is incredibly vivid so. Prepare yourself 👀👀👀👀👀

“But she looked just like you…” Twins. A crazy girl. She happened to be unconscious and...had a blood wound. Just like her.

She pales. No way. She doesn’t want to believe it. Not even a little. But her body moves before she can think, taking off with no heed to Aizawa calling after her.

Deku-kun!!

This was, again, near exactly the same because it was such a vivid image in the planning stage that it carried over well into actual writing. For a little bit I debated whether I should actually name drop Toga but ultimately I was like “the readers are smart, I don’t have to hold their hand about it!” So I trusted yall to put two and two together lol

But yeah, that about sums it up!! The notorious scene actually only happened because of Izuocha wanting to help and me and my Tododeku shipper sister sitting in the car in the BK drive thru if I’m not mistaken lmfao

[lizziefosterwrites]

Memories

Sam Winchester x Photographer!Reader

Summary: After a rough couple of weeks, you decide to put something together to cheer the youngest Winchester up.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of wounds, blood, injury, etc. Mentions of alcohol. (Not super graphic). Maybe like one curse word. Also, sucky ending because I couldn’t decide how to end it. (ALso, kinda sucky title lol)

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: So excited to see this blog up and running!! You write for so many of my favorite things! Ima say pick the character you feel like writing the most atm, maybe with a photographer s/o? Best of luck, lovely! You’ll be amazing! @squeakingsheep

A/N: All grammatical and spelling errors are my own. Also, I’m so sorry that this is up so late! My husband was sick and then I had to deal with some major writer's block. I hope you guys like it! 

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     The latest hunt was a disaster. Dean was injured while you all were fighting a wendigo. This was only one incident of many that had happened over the last few weeks. About two weeks ago, you had sustained a mild concussion after being thrown against one too many walls while fighting a couple of witches in Jacksonville; and about 5 days after that while investigating a Tulpa, both Sam and Dean had received lacerations on more than one appendages. This certainly wasn’t the end of the injuries, however, this routine was nothing new to the three of you. So as you and Sam helped carry Dean into the Bunker there was nothing but groans of pain from Dean and quiet words of reassurance coming from Sam. You stayed quiet, thinking about how eventful the last few weeks were. You all were tired, cranky, and desperately needed a few days off. You watched as Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey that Sam had brought over from the kitchen and you began to sew the open wound on Dean’s side. It was during times like this where you could take a moment to reflect on the time that you had spent with the boys.

     You had met the boys a few years prior while you were still hunting solo. You had tracked down a nest of vampires, assuming there were only two or three, however, there were more than you had anticipated and you found yourself in way over your head. Sam and Dean, thankfully, had been tracking the same nest and found you being held as the nest’s personal blood bag. They put an end to the vampires and released you from your shackles with concerned looks on their faces. That was only the first time you had run into them. Over the next couple of hunts, you kept running into the Winchester boys and eventually, you all had agreed that maybe sticking together would be for the best. 

     Sam, who was more soft-spoken than his older brother, was a bit easier to talk to. Dean, on the other hand, was more reserved and closed off at first. You assumed that this was because he either didn’t fully trust you or was afraid to lose you. After discussing how you felt to Sam, you found that your assumptions had been correct. Throughout the years of knowing the boys, you and Sam had taken a liking to one another. You both had agreed to take things slow, seeing how any day you spent with one another could be your last. These last few weeks had been a testament to that, and you knew the toll it was taking on Sam. He was looking more worried jumped at every noise he heard, most likely afraid that something was there to take either you or Dean away from him. The way he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white and was constantly flickering his eyes to the backseat where you sat keeping pressure on Dean’s wound was the final straw. You weren’t sure how much more he could handle before breaking into a million pieces. You were pretty sure if he lost anyone else, he wouldn’t be able to recover. It was then that you decided to put something together to ease his mind. 

     Snapping out of your thoughts, you finished stitching Dean’s wound and headed off in the direction of your room without another word. Sam and Dean exchanged a worried look but let it slide for now. They both were exhausted and in need of rest themselves. 

     Closing your door behind you, you fished out an old box that you kept under your bed. Opening it, you removed your old polaroid camera and placed it by your side. You carded through the collection of photos you had taken throughout your time owning the camera. There were pictures of your family before they died, some of Sam and Dean from your years of knowing them. As you sort through the photos you set a few aside that you decide you like the most. A majority of them were of Sam but there were a few sprinkled in of Dean and yourself. You labeled each picture with a date and a memory and a couple had some corny captions just for fun. You looked at the clock and marveled at how time was able to pass so quickly. Resolving to finish your project tomorrow, you showered, slipped on a pair of pajamas and climbed into bed for some much-needed sleep. 

     The next day you got up early, intent on finding a photo album of some sort. So you searched through the bunker hoping to find maybe an old album left behind from the previous hunters that lived here. In your search you found Sam, asleep at the table in the front room. You padded up to him quietly and sat in the seat next to him. You thought about how peaceful he looked when he slept. Devoid of all worry or fear, he just looked at peace. It saddened you to know that it wouldn’t last for long, but god forbid that you all could have a peaceful moment here and there. 

     After a couple of hours, you were finally able to find your album. You removed any photos that you could find and started to replace them with your own. A knock on your door drew your attention away from your project. You shoved the album and the photos back under your bed and got up to answer the door. In front of you was a disheveled looking Sam. 

     “Hey, just wondering how you’re doing. You didn’t say much last night.” Sam asked, scratching the back of his head. He still looked exhausted, but you figured he was used to it by now. 

     “I’m doing good. I was just really tired after these past couple weeks,” you replied, hoping that Sam wouldn’t look into it too much.

     You let Sam into your room, ushering him to sit down on the bed. The two of you relaxed and talked, enjoying one another’s company. It was only when you both heard Dean struggling with something in the kitchen that you both decided to go and investigate. Of course, being the stubborn man he is, Dean had managed to rip his stitches while reaching for a glass in the cabinet because: “I don’t need help getting a fucking glass.” He had proclaimed loudly. You and Sam chuckled to yourselves and partially at Dean before setting to work restitching him. 

     Later on that night, while the boys were relaxing and talking to one another, you finally had the time to slip away and finish the album you were putting together. It was mostly for Sam, seeing as he had been so defeated lately, but you’re pretty sure Dean would enjoy it as well. You placed the last Polaroid in the album then went to go find the boys. 

     You found them at the table, drinking beer and reminiscing on old memories. They did that every once and a while, just to try and diffuse the tension that was your everyday lives. 

     “Hey guys, can you come here? I have something that I want to show you.” You asked, ushering the boys to your room hoping that they would enjoy your little surprise. 

     They followed you, interested in what you wanted to show them. The trip back to the room was silent, except for the soft padding of yours, Sam’s, and Dean’s feet. When you finally reached your room, you picked up the photo album and beckoned the brothers to sit with you. They did as you asked and you looked at each of them.

     “I made this. After we came back from that hunt. I think we all need some cheering up.” You looked between the two of them, who stared back at you with confused faces. 

     You flipped open the album and began showing them the photos that you had pasted inside. The three of you talked and laughed. Sam even shed a small tear though he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that. By the time you all had finished looking through the album, it was pretty late. Dean was tired and headed off to bed leaving you and Sam. 

     “How long have you been collecting these?” he asks, gesturing to the photographs both scattered along the floor and pasted into the album. 

     “Since before I met you and Dean. Once I met you guys I just had a couple of new subjects to photograph.” you responded, thumbing a few older photos of your family from before. 

     Sam kissed you softly, cradling the back of your head with his hand, the other wrapped around your waist. You kissed him back, the love you held for him swelling in your heart. The need for air separated the two of you and Sam looked down at you, smiling lovingly. You smiled back, content that your project had brought some happiness to the dismal world you all lived in.

Tag List: @squeakingsheep

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Without You

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 8569

Summary: Simon is severely injured and out of commission. Baz has trouble coping. Based on "you’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up" request.

Read on AO3

AN: Heyyyyy, my peeps. Long time no fic. Long story short: I started antidepressants and they fucked with me hard. They wiped out of my energy for weeks, I could barely get out of bed. But now I've adjusted and I'm mostly back to myself, and I plan to get through the requests :D There's actually one request before this but that one was gonna take awhile so I thought I'd post this one first. I'm still iffy on some parts of this fic, but hey it's done. That's more than I can say for most of my writing recently lol. Hope you guys enjoy it :D. Disclaimer: Idk exactly how a coma of this length affects someone. Don't take what happens here as fact please.

———————————————

Baz

It starts as a normal day. (Well, as normal as mine can get.) Snow wakes me up at an ungodly hour, banging around like a frenetic ping pong ball. I growl and burrow deeper into my blanket pile. Why does he always insist on doing this? I swear, Snow forgets that other people exist in his little world.

He makes a particularly loud bang, equivalent to gun shot to my sensitive ears, and my patience snaps. I bolt upright and glare at his back.

“Would you keep it down?” I hiss. “Some of us actually want to sleep.”

Snow whips around so fast he nearly trips. I’m taken slightly aback. He looks like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights. I’ve never seen him so frantic and afraid. Even his breathing is strange, rapid and shallow. What could scare the Chosen One so badly?

“I gotta- I-I can’t,” he stutters, like the adorable numpty he is. Snow is bleeding magic, making the air feel thick and smokey. We stare at each other for a long drawn out moment. Then he just leaves, dashing away in a flurry of bronze hair and untucked clothing. I’m left in the rising dawn light, feeling thoroughly perplexed.

Is Snow okay? He looked so helplessly terrified. Part of me wants to run after him, ask him what’s wrong, maybe try to help. But I know he wouldn’t tell me anything. Actually, he’d probably yell his bloody head off at me.

“Whatever,” I groan, flopping back down. And I let myself drift back off to sleep.

———————————————

Boom!

BOOM!

The entire room shakes, flinging me back into consciousness. My eyes fly open and I bolt upright. Flecks of plaster rain down from the sky like a light dusting of snow. The stones are still vibrating slightly. Crowley and Merlin and Methuselah, what the ever loving fuck was that?! Has the Mage completely lost his mind and decided to test nuclear bombs on the Watford grounds? As if he needs another bomb with Snow-

Wait. What if... No, he’s the Chosen One, he’s fine. I don’t need to worry. He was probably just panicking like a moron earlier. That explosion was...fine. He’ll be okay...

Fucking hell.

I dash out from bed, throwing on my jumper and shoes terrifyingly fast. I grab my wand just in case. As I’m running down the steps, I wonder how I’m going to explain this, dashing towards Simon bloody Snow with a racing heart and fear in my eyes. But I don’t fucking care. He might be in danger. I can’t leave him alone, I can’t, I just can’t.

The second I’m outside, I see the towering smoke coming from the Great Lawn. It’s a massive plume blacking out the sky. My undead heart is roaring in my ears as I run towards the smoke, not caring about any fire within. When I reach the edge of the spot, all the breath leaves my lungs. Flames cover the grass, burning so bright my eyes hurt. In the middle of the inferno are two silhouettes. One is kneeling, and the other is laying limp on the ground. Maybe I’m imagining, maybe I’m terrified, maybe I’m just projecting, but I swear the person on the ground has a mass of dirty bronze curls.

I raise my wand up and yell, “make a wish!” The fire goes out with a rushing pop. Grey smoke still trails off the blackened ground. I wave through the thick cloud, focusing on the two silhouettes. And when I step through, my heart sinks right to the ground.

Simon Snow is on the ground, eyes closed, laying limp with his head on Bunce’s lap.

“What happened?” I ask, voice shakier than I want it to be.

Penelope Bunce’s head whips around. Her face is streaked in ash and tears, hair a tangled mess of fading purple. Unsurprisingly, she looks utterly shocked.

“Baz?” she says. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard the explosion, what else?” I snap. “What happened? Why was the Lawn on fire?”

Bunce glares at me, but I see the way her lip trembles. She rubs her forehead, streaking ash across her skin. “It was a group of ogres. Simon spotted them from his window then sent a messenger bird to me for help. Then we came here. They were under the Humdrum’s control, completely vicious. Simon and I couldn’t hold them off. He was getting tired and scared, so...”

A few tears fall down her cheeks. She places her hand over her mouth, trying to control her rapidly increasing breath, trying to say what I already know. There’s only one thing in the World of Mages that could’ve made such a concussive sound. And this time, I heard two.

I step forward, getting a clearer view. Snow is spread out across the ground like an exhausted starfish. Eyes closed, head lolling to the side, covered head to toe in dirt, blood, and ash. His sword is still laying on his open palm. I can hear his breathing and pulse with my vampire ears. Thank fucking Crowley, he’s still alive. But from the weak sound of both, I’m not sure how long that’s going to last.

“Fucking hell,” I whisper.

Bunce nods solemnly. “I tried to wake him up, but he’s out cold.” She sniffles, and I can’t help but feel bad for her. “Is this good enough for you, Basilton? Finally getting rid of the Chosen One like you want.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in my mind and heart. I can’t lose control right now. I can’t react to her fiery but justified words. Not when Snow needs me.

Quick as lightning, I kneel down and scoop Simon up. I don’t go for a full on bridal carry, that’s a little too obvious. Instead, I sling him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his sword falling to the ground, arms hanging down my back. He’s incredibly light with my strength. I have to force myself to not think about how close he is right now. This is absolutely not the time and the place for that, dammit.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Bunce shouts, shooting to her feet.

“What does it look like?” I hiss. “I’m getting him to the nurse’s office.”

“Why would you do that?! You’re on opposite sides of a bloody war!”

Because I love him far more than my own reputation, I think. But I can’t say that out loud of course. I never can. “Because I don’t want the Mage to find a way to blame this on me and my family.”

I start speed walking across the grass before Bunce can respond. I don’t need more questions right now, I need to get Snow to help. His torso bumps against my back with every step. A stupid part of me hopes the simple vibrations and movement will wake him up. But he stays completely limp.

Crowley, Snow, if you die, I will kill you.

———————————————

“He went off twice?” Nurse Keswick asks Bunce. She nods, gripping Snow’s hand tight. He’s laying on the bed, wrapped tight in a blanket, hooked up to a heart monitor and breathing tubes in his nose. It beeps steadily, every blip reminding me he’s still alive. But his closed eyes and frozen body say he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Bunce is by his bedside while I lurk in a dark corner, though I desperately wish I could sit there too.

“Yeah,” Baz replies.”One right after another. I’ve never seen it before. The first time was like pulsing waves, but then the second was like...like a bloody nuclear bomb.” She squeezes his hand tighter. “His magic exploded out into a big dome with a mushroom cloud after. All the ogres were incinerated on the spot, along with a lot of the grass.”

Ms. Keswick nods along thoughtfully, making notes on her clipboard. “And he fell unconscious after the second one?”

Bunce’s face crumples in distress. “Yeah. I cleared most of the fire around us, then tried to wake him up with magic and just, y’know, shaking. Nothing worked.”

“I see. Any dizziness prior to today?”

“No.”

“Did any of the ogres hit him particularly hard?”

“Not that I saw.”

“Didn’t hit his head after going off again?”

“He was already unconscious before he hit the bloody ground,” Bunce snaps. Her brows pull together, matching her scowl. If I were Ms. Keswick, I would back away very slowly. Other than the Humdrum, the scariest thing in the Magical World is Penelope Bunce’s wrath. I know. I’ve been on the receiving end of it for years.

Ms. Keswick clears her throat and jots something down on her sheet. “Alright. Well, there isn’t anything physically or magically causing Mr. Snow’s unconsciousness. At least not normal magic. From what you said, it seems to be caused by an overexertion of power.”

“That’s not a thing,” I say coldly. Bunce glares at me over her shoulder, rightly assuming I’m just being my usual snarky arsehole self. But really I’m concerned Ms. Keswick is just making up a diagnosis because she doesn’t know what else to say. I don’t want Snow to suffer because of a wild guess.

“Not usually,” Ms. Keswick says slowly. “But Mr. Snow’s magic does tend to be unusual. He’s not like other mages. It’s very possible he used too much magic and...burnt himself out in a way. I just can’t tell you for sure.”

I scowl deeply. Bunce scoffs at me. I know what she thinks, that I’m upset he’s not fully dead. If only she knew how my entire world is shattering.

“Will he wake up?” Bunce asks.

Ms. Keswick’s eyes soften with sadness. She holds the clipboard to her chest. “I have to be honest, I don’t know. No spell is working. I think we just have to wait and see.”

Bunce’s face falls. It’s only because of my years of practice schooling my expression that I don’t look the same. My heart is beating so loud in my ears. I want to rush over and shake Snow awake. But that won’t do any good. Snow will stay asleep, possibly forever. I don’t even want to consider that.

The door bursts open with a bang so loud I jolt. The Mage stomps in, hand on his sword and fire in his eyes. He’s so enraged he walks right past me.

“What happened?!” he barks at Ms. Keswick and Bunce. Fucking prick.

“It was ogres,” Bunce says, sounding more than a little annoyed. “Sent by the Humdrum. Simon went off twice and passed out. I tried to wake him up but nothing worked. Ms. Keswick says we just have to wait and see.”

The Mage looks even more furious. Bastard probably doesn’t like his favourite weapon being out of commission. “Have you tried every spell, Ms. Keswick?”

“Yes, I have,” she replies. I commend her for staying calm in the face of his anger.

“I doubt that. I will try myself. Everyone leave.” He looks right at me, eyes thin blue slits. “That includes you, Mr. Pitch. I don’t even want to know why you’re here.”

I scoff, crossing my arms. “Neither I nor the Families had anything to do with this.”

“I never said that.”

“You never had to.” I push off the wall, hands linked behind my back. “I’ll be taking my leave.”

The Mage nods stiffly. He turns back to Bunce and Ms. Keswick. “As should everyone else, like I requested.”

Ms. Keswick nods and walks towards her office. Bunce frowns as she goes out the exit. I follow behind her. Before we leave, I glance over my shoulder, looking at Snow’s face one last time. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see him again.

Bunce and I walk down the hall together, me a few steps behind her. She’s stomping so hard it rattles the floorboards. If she weren’t here, I would be doing the same. I’m so damn frustrated. None of us have any idea what is going on, none of us can seem to help, and Snow is just stuck there, unable to wake up. I’m quite used to feeling helpless when it comes to Snow, but this is far worse.

“Hey.” Bunce stops and turns around. Her mouth is thin line and her voice has an edge. I cross my arms, awaiting a verbal lashing. “It feels weird to say this, but...thanks, for getting him here.”

Well, didn’t expect that. I hope Bunce can’t see the small smile on my lips. I do have a reputation. “You’re welcome. I must say, I’m surprised to hear that from you.”

“Yeah, so am I,” she chuckles in morose sort of way, rubbing up and down her arm. “I know you didn’t do it for any altruistic reasons, but still, it’s good you did it anyway. Though this doesn’t change anything.”

“I know.” She nods, then turns around and walks away. I stand still for a long moment, trying to recollect myself. I know exactly what you still think of me, Bunce. What Snow will still think of me when he wakes up. If he wakes up...

I press the heels of my hands hard into my eyes. Pitches don’t cry, dammit. I take a deep breath and recollect myself. It will be okay. It has to be. Otherwise, well, I don’t know what I’ll do.

———————————————

It’s been fourteen whole days, and Snow still hasn’t woken up. I’ve tried to ignore the anxiety that fears to it’s way through my stomach, but it gets worse with every passing second. During the day I hide it well, going about my business as usual. But at night, I spend hours laying awake, just staring at his empty bed. Having Snow there was torture, but him not being there is absolute fucking hell.

“Do you think the Chosen One is really out of commission for good?” Niall asks through his sandwich.

“Who knows,” Dev replies. “Either way, the Mage’s side is shitting their pants in fear now that their favourite weapon is gone. The Families are elated.”

Crack. Niall and Dev both jolt. Fuck. My knife nearly made it through the plate and onto the table. I could’ve goen further. Damn vampire strength. I put my utensils down calmly and pick up my teacup. “Yes,” I say evenly, “they definitely are. My father and aunt sent word that they are quite pleased.”

Luckily, both of them act like nothing happened. Good men. Niall nods as he eats his salad. “They’re finally off our backs, and we didn’t even have to do anything.”

“Very true.” I push at a piece of chicken a bit too hard, nearly sending it off my slightly cracked plate. But I quickly regain my control. “So who do you think is going to win the FA cup this year, gentlemen? My money is on Manchester.”

Dev scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You always say that. I’m betting on Liverpool.”

“And you always say that!” Niall points at him like it’s a devastating accusation, though we all know Dev’s incessant loyalty to Liverpool. My personal theory is that it’s just because he loves the Beatles.

He and Niall start arguing about the ability of football clubs, and I just sit back. I don’t have the energy for a rousing football debate. Or anything else really. It feels like every ounce of myself is going into worrying about Snow. There’s nothing left for the rest of my life.

We finish lunch, and I pretend I’m going to the library. But the second Dev and Niall are out of sight, I walk towards to the infirmary. I’ve been trying to get there since that first day, but Bunce is by his side almost every bloody hour. She would yell my ear off if I showed up. One thank you does not a friendship make. But I want to see Snow, dammit. And I know for a fact Bunce has a major test this period, while mine is totally free.

Just as I’m turning the corner, I run head on into someone. We both yell as we fall on the floor. Once my vision comes back into focus, I look up, and meet a pair of wide brown eyes.

“Oh, hello Baz,” Agatha says nervously. “What...what are you doing here?”

I gulp down the small lump in my throat and recollect myself. “I could ask the same of you, Wellbelove.”

She starts collecting her books, staring intently at the ground. “It’s my free period, and I’m going to see Simon.”

“I thought you two broke up.” Agatha freezes up. I wince slightly at my own sharp words. I didn’t mean to be that harsh. But part of me is still angry at her for hurting him. They’re disgustingly cute relationship was agony for me, but Snow was happy. That’s what matters.

Wellbelove sighs, standing with her back straight. I do the same, clutching my bookbag strap tight. “Yes, we did break up a few weeks ago. But I still care for him.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not sure Snow believes that.”

She nods in a strange, solemn way. “No, I don’t think he does. But I do. I just couldn’t be what he wanted. Simon wants me to be his happy ending, the person waiting for him when all this insanity is over. I want to be someone’s right now.”

My annoyance dissipates, and I feel like a right prick. I clear my throat and look down at the floor. “I see. That’s...understandable.”

“I’m glad you get it. Simon didn’t.” I raise my eyes slightly. Agatha is gazing at the door in a forlorn sort of way. Like a gothic heroine gazing out from her balcony. “I know I did the right thing, but it was hard.”

“Most right things are.” And so are the wrong things, as I’ve learned from experience. They just tear you apart inside in a whole different way.

“Too true.” She smiles slightly. “But I’m glad I did. It was worth the risk. I’m happier now. I only wish Simon was awake so we could at least try to make up. I don’t want to lose him even more.” Her bottom lip trembles, and even though we aren’t even close to friends, it still breaks my heart. “I just want him to be okay.”

My chest feels tight at her words. Before I can stop myself, I’m nodding, and I can feel my face fall slightly, my sorrow bleeding through. I quickly school my expression and straighten up. But Agatha is looking at me, first with shock, and it slowly fades to pity. It stabs me in the gut so sharply I immediately look away. Yes, I’m pathetic, but no one needs to know.

I clear my throat and look away. “I should go. Studying, and all that.”

“Right.” She smiles softly. I can’t tell if she’s being kind because I’m so pitiful, or just because she’s nice. I don’t want to find out. So I turn my back and walk away. Snow is still stuck in that room. It’s stupidly poetic and over dramatic, but if I have a heart, it’s stuck there along with him.

———————————————

I’ve been frozen for hours. I just keep staring across the room, staring at his bed.

It’s still a complete mess. At first I didn’t want to touch his things because I prefer not getting my ear yelled off when Snow comes back. Now I can’t bear to do it, to erase the most obvious sign of his presence. Looking at the crumpled sheets reminds me he used to be here. He was here, where I could make sure he was alive and okay.

He’s still alive, you dolt, my rational brain reminds me. But not in any way that really counts. I want him to be laughing, snarling, yelling, living his damn life. He should be here. It’s not fair. Simon Snow doesn’t deserve to be in a coma.

What I wouldn’t give for him to wake up.

What I wouldn’t give to have him in my arms.

I didn’t get to see him yesterday. And I feel like if I don’t right now, I’m going to catch fire and burn to a crisp.

I throw my quilt off and swing my legs over the side. I don’t even bother putting on shoes. After slowly descending the stairs of Mummer’s house, I tiptoe through the halls. Luckily, I’m very good at being totally silent while sneaking through Watford. It finally pays off to be like a ghost.

Eventually, I reach the nurse’s office. I press my sensitive ear to the door. There are no footsteps, no muttering, no sound except that incessant beeping I remember. With a shaky hand, I turn the brass knob, and step inside.

The moonlight pours in through the window, a silver stream perfectly illuminating the bed. I cautiously walk forward. Every step feels like I’m walking on knives. Snow is still there, obviously, a perfect sleeping statue. But he looks so different. That’s probably because he’s lost quite a bit of weight. A feeding tube can only do so much, I suppose. His cheekbones are more prominent, pushing through his pretty face. His skin looks paler too. It’s lost a lot of its golden luster, more of a pale yellow now. He looks so...empty. My undead heart shatters.

There’s a chair next to the bed. I suppose that’s where Bunce has been spending every minute she can. I sit down slowly, like it’ll bite me  I want to touch him. I want to feel his skin, just in case I may never be able to again. But I hold back.

“Hello, Snow,” I say, unsure if I’m really talking to him or myself. “You’ve been here for quite awhile, huh? The window isn’t open. You’re probably overheating, you human furnace.”

I’m not an idiot, I know he’s going to wake up just because I’m talking. But how I wish his stupid blue eyes would open right now. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I reach out and lightly brush the back of his hand. Crowley, his skin is colder than his namesake. A choked sound is wrenched from my throat.

“You moron,” I hiss, “how could you go off like that unprepared? Just bring your stupid sword to fight an entire pack of ogres? Bunce was there, I know, but you two were still not enough. You should’ve thought it through more. You should have...” I take a deep breath, holding back tears. “You should have asked for my help. I could have protected you.”

My mind goes back to Wellbelove’s words. How she was scared, yet took the risk anyway to be happier. I wish I could be that brave. And...maybe I could, at least while he sleeps.

I swipe my thumb over the back of his hand, feeling every single bone in it. “You never would’ve asked me though, because you still think I hate you. But the truth is, I don’t, Snow. Not in the way you think.” I hold him tighter, tighter than I ever have before. Wet drops slide down my cheeks. Fuck, I really am pathetic. I’m a stupid blubbering mess, all over this ridiculous, brave boy. “I despise what you do to me, but I can’t despise you, Simon. You’re too strong, too clever, too incredible to hate. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, so much better than my horrible undead arse. You don’t deserve to be stuck here.” I press my fingers harder into his chilly palm. It’s all I can do to keep from falling apart.

“I know you’ve never listened to me once in our years living together, but I hope you make an exception this time. Please, wake up. The World of Mages needs you. I need you. I can’t bear to imagine a world without you in it. I don’t care if you still hate me forever. You should get to live and have your happy ending.” I reach forward and brush away a tangled mess of curls from his forehead. Because I’m a constant disappointment to myself.

“I hope you wake up, because you’re the best thing in existence. And because...” I take a deep, powerful breath, pushing the words out of that deep dark place I’ve hidden them for years. “Because I’m absolutely, hopelessly in love with you, Simon Snow. And losing you would be worse than dying again.” I lightly brush his cheek, barely touching him, but it’s enough. “So wake up, you bloody numpty. You’re not allowed to die. I won’t let you.” My voice cracks. I fall forward, pressing my tear filled eyes on my hand. “You can’t leave me yet.”

My breaths come out shaky, like a rattling old air conditioner. I haven’t let myself cry these entire two weeks, holding in every ounce of horrible, tangled despir. But they fly freely now, streaking down my cheeks. I can’t live without Snow. He’s my hopeless love, my stupid reason to live, my sun. If I’m not crashing into him, what am I doing? I’ve considered dying by his hand, but never him going before me. I can’t lose him. I don’t how to lose him and not lose what little is left of my soul as well.

A weight falls on top of my head. It’s cold, bony, and splays out over my head. A hand. I bolt upright, and I’m immediately met with plain blue eyes and a soft smile, like it takes Atlas level amounts of effort to just to pull his mouth up.

“Hi,” Snow says, voice raspy from disuse, yet somehow still the most beautiful sound.

I stare at him slack jawed for a stupid amount of time. I swear, my brain has turn to thick gruel. Simon Snow is awake, looking at me, smiling. He’s okay. And I’m holding his hand.

Immediately, I shoot back, sitting up ramrod straight, hand very far away from his. I probably look like a panicked deer. “Hello, Snow. You’re up. I’ll...go get Bunce. She’ll be very thrilled.”

I start to stand up, but the slightest brush from chilly fingers, and I freeze. I look over my shoulder. Snow is frowning in this pouty puppy dog way. He looks so unbelievably vulnerable and scared.

“Baz,” he wheezes, “don’t leave me alone, please.”

Crowley, did he really have to say that? It sends a sharp pain directly through my chest. I immediately fall back into the chair. “Okay, I won’t.”

He smiles again, making me almost sigh with relief. “How are you feeling?” I ask. I hope he doesn’t notice I’m shaking like a leaf.

“Like shit,” he chuckles. It brings a laugh out of me too, small and breathy.

“Laying in bed for two weeks will do that, Snow.”

“Yeah, true enough.” He takes a rattling breath. “I thought Penny would be the one here when I woke up. She’s been here a lot.”

My eyes widen slightly. “You know that?”

He nods slowly and winces. It obviously hurts him to move. “Yeah. After a few days, I could hear everything, I just couldn’t, y’know, open my eyes or move.”

Oh fuck. I can feel whatever little blood I have rush to my face. I hope it’s not too noticeable. There’s only so much embarrassment I can take before I explode. “Oh...everything?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah,” Snow sighs, “everything.”

He turns his head towards me. I see his wince again. I start to reach forward, like I want to what, comfort him. No, I’m not allowed to do that. I’ve never been allowed. Why the fuck do I think I can? Snow looks at my hand strangely, between confused and awestruck I think. I quickly pull my hand back into my lap.

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking very pointedly down.

“Baz, I-I told you, I heard you.” His eyes narrow slightly, as much as he can right now. “But this isn’t some plot, right?”

My blood starts to boil and a scowl nearly split my face in two. Of course in his own mind, it’s reasonable for him to ask. But I just poured out what’s left of my pathetic heart to him, even though I thought he couldn’t hear. It was the most truthful I’ve ever been in my life. And he thought I was lying.

I push my chair away. “Well, I won’t bother you with anymore of my plots. I’ll go get Bunce or Nurse Keswick now.”

“No, Baz, wait!” Snow sits up, and immediately starts coughing. His entire body convulses with the force of them. I’m immediately standing at his side

“Don’t get up, Snow.” I gently hold his upper arms and help lower him back onto the sheets. My thumbs press right into his humerus. Crowley, he really is all skin and bones right now. It hurts me in such a horrific way.

He gestures to the cup of water on the bedside table. I immediately pick it up and bring the straw to his cracked lips. Snow drinks deeply, shoulders relaxing. He ends up drinking the entire thing, then falls back on the bed. I put the cup down and sit, all thoughts of leaving obviously out the window.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just, I had to ask. I heard it all, but part of me just...can’t believe it.” Our eyes meet, and a shiver runs down my spine. “I never knew you felt like that.”

I stare at my lap, fiddling with my shaky fingers. The world is closing in, shrinking to just me, the lonely lovesick vampire who has never dealt with his feelings. Except Snow is here too. And a part of me wants him here, and another part desperately can’t handle him right now. Snow overwhelms me, always has. He rids my brain of any logical thought. It’s horrible, and I love it. Just like him.

“I made sure you didn’t,” I whisper. “I made sure no one did.”

“Yeah, I kinda guessed that.” He smiles softly again. No matter how weak he is, it’s still such a pretty smile. “For how long?”

I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. I hope I don’t look too ridiculous “A long time, Snow. Almost since we met.”

I look up slightly. Snow’s eyes are bigger than saucer plates and his lips are slightly parted. Part of my brain supplies an intense image of my tongue between those lips, tracing the inside of his mouth, feeling every crevice. He just woke up from a coma, Basil, get a hold of yourself.

“That’s...a long time...”

I snort in a very undignified way. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“You don’t need to be an arse,” he mumbles.

“I do when you state the absolutely obvious.”

He pouts in that ridiculously adorable way again. Snow really is a giant, sword wielding, explosive puppy dog. “Why do you always go for the lowest blow? Especially if you...care about me like that.”

I gulp. Did the coma make him more articulate somehow? Maybe it rattled some of his brains loose. “Because I’m not supposed to. You know that, Snow. We’re enemies.”

“But what if I like this better?” He blurts out. His cheeks immediately go rosy pink, body a bit too iron deficient for bright scarlet.

My eyebrows furrow together. “What is this?”

“This. What we’re doing right now. Talking, being nice, not being arseholes. And,” he smiles sheepishly like a cheeky schoolboy, “I liked what you had to say, before I woke up.”

My first reaction is to blush. And my second is to scoff and stare at the wall, which is boring, but at least not his beautiful face. “Like having your ego stroked, Snow?”

The room is completely silent for a few long, drawn out seconds. I keep my eyes on the stone wall, analysing every line of mortar. Anything to not look at him. But then I feel something tepid brush over my hand, making my whole body jolt. Snow’s fingers are laying atop mine. It’s something I’ve wanted for so many years. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I thought about you.”

My eyebrows shoot all the way up to my hairline. “What?”

He keeps smiling, like that’s an answer. “While I was stuck here, I thought about what you were doing.

“You mean what I was plotting?”

“Yeah. And I missed you.”

I scoff, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair. “Sure, Snow.”

I keep looking at the wall, though I can’t bear to remove my hand from under his. But suddenly, I feel something slowly curl around my long fingers. I whip my head around. Snow is actually holding my hand, even after I insulted him. And when I look up, he still has that smile, despite how much strain it obviously causes him.

“You called me Simon before,” he says.

Surprisingly, it makes me laugh. Because he’s just so ridiculous, and adorable. “That’s what you care about?”

“Uh-huh. I like when you call me Simon. I like you being here, just the two of us. I like all of this better than us fighting.”

Merlin and Morgana, this is too good to be true. Simon Snow is awake, and he knows how I feel, and he likes this better than fighting. I don’t know what to do. My brain is overloaded with information and emotion, and I don’t deal well with the latter. I need to recollect myself before I do something irreversibly stupid.

Snow yawns loudly, mouth wide like a boa constrictor swallowing its prey. The analogy seems apt, honestly. I feel like Snow has swallowed me whole.

“You should rest, Snow,” I say. “You’re probably loopy from...something. Bunce will want to talk your ear off in the morning. Certainly have to have your strength for that.”

His fingers tighten on my hand. He’s so weak it’s barely a squeeze, but it makes me stay anyway. “You’re running away.”

How Snow says that so pathetically yet resolutely all at once is astounding. And it breaks my heart a bit more. “I just need to rest. And so do you.”

He frowns deeper. “Are you going to pretend that none of this happened? Make me feel crazy?”

Well, I had thought about it. But...I don’t think I can now. Not with the way Snow is looking at me with those big plain blue eyes. He destroys all my walls. He makes me feel so weak. I hate it, but I want to love it.

“How about,” I say slowly, “we talk later, when you’re not just emerging from a coma? Okay?”

Relief obviously washes over Snow. His weak body melts into the mattress. It’s good to see him relax. “Promise?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “What are you, five?”

“Please, Baz?” he asks, already drifting off to proper sleep.

Crowley, I am so weak. But maybe I really could learn to love it. I grip his hand tight, but not tight enough to hurt. His skin is warming up. He’s starting to feel like himself again. “I promise, Snow.”

He smiles as his eyes slide shut. He’s immediately asleep. Snow always looks beautiful, but smiling in his sleep, he looks positively angelic. Usually he’s curled up in a knot, whimpering and crying. But not tonight it seems.

I put his hand over his stomach, and exit the little nurse’s room. I walk back to my room in a daze. My brain is still playing catch up. Simon is awake. He’s coherent. He heard every stupid thing I had to say and he liked it. A grin spreads across my face, dopey in the best, most ridiculous way.

He’s okay. And maybe for the first time ever, so am I.

———————————————

It’s been another week and a half of Snow-less agony for me. He has to recover from quite a bit, I assume. An ogre fight, a massive going off, and a two week long coma is bound to do some damage. That’s all I know though. It’s not like Bunce is giving me daily updates on his condition. I want to go see him, desperately, but I also think he needs time to think. He needs to get his head on straight. I know he was worried I would pretend none of that night happened, but I’m more worried he will. Snow will get all his mental faculties back and pretend I never confessed my stupid undying love. Objectively, that would be best, I suppose. There’s no chance at all for us. Still, it would hurt.

“Baz? Baz? Baz are you listening?”

My head snaps up to see a very confused Dev and Niall. Shit, right, we’re supposed to be studying. There’s a test next week. A world still exists outside of Simon bloody Snow.

“Um, yes,” I say, looking back down at my extremely wordy textbook. “History of the first magical war, right. Who was the instigator?” I raise my head again, trying to look as bored and passive as my father. But both my friends still look monumentally concerned. I frown at them. “What?”

“You okay, mate?” Dev asks. “You’ve been off these past couple weeks.”

Niall nods. “Yeah, totally. Ever since the Chosen One went into a coma...”

Crowley, I hope I don’t have enough blood to blush. It keeps happening, and I hate my thoughts being out in the open. “Coincidence, my dear Niall. Finals stress has been a bastard.”

It’s an easy lie, a believable one, but a lie all the same. And unfortunately these boys have known me since I was in diapers. They look at each other briefly, then back at me, both with an expression of deadpan disbelief.

“Is it cause you actually put him in the coma?” Dev asks.

I immediately snap my pencil in half. Just one hard press of my thumb and the little stick is dismembered. Both Dev and Niall jolt. I can’t blame them, I would be shocked too. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and put the pencil down.

“Where,” I say slowly, carefully, “did you hear that?

“Um...around,” Niall replies. “People heard you were there when he went off. Some people are saying you egged him on until he blew up...”

I press my lips together and take another long, deep breath. I need to calm down before I explode. It makes sense, considering what I’ve let people think about me. But the fact that people think I’m responsible for hurting Snow, when I actually tried to save him, is so much more painful than I thought it would be. I don’t want people to think I hurt Simon. I no longer want to be known as his enemy. Crowley, I’m tired of being his enemy at all.

“Baz? You okay?”

I look up at them again. I’m not sure who said that, but both my friends look incredibly concerned. They’re good men, really, underneath all that sarcasm. I nod once.

“I’m alright,” I say, “and that’s not what happened. Snow went off on his own.”

“Okay,” Dev says. “Are you sure you’re alright though? You seem weird.”

“Yeah. I’ve just got a lot going on.”

Niall leans forward on his forearms, brows all scrunched together. “Y’know you can can tell us shit, right?”

I lightly drum my fingers on the table, creating a low rattling sound. I know he means well, but that’s not true. How could I tell them about Snow? How I’ve been in love with him for years? How I accidentally confessed and now he may want what I want? I can’t. Right?

“I know,” I say. “And I’ll tell you if there’s anything to tell.”

“Okay, good.”

Dev smiles, closed mouth and reserved, but there’s a genuine kindness in his face. “We’re always here for you, mate.”

Niall nods and smiles along with him. My eyes narrow slightly. Who are these people and what happened to Dev and Niall? They’re being too nice. We’re always arseholes to each other. They keep smiling. Maybe they’ve been hexed or something.

Or maybe...they know something.

No. No way. They haven’t possibly have figured it out. If they have, they would be yelling at me, they would hate me. That’s what I’ve always expected. But maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance it’ll be okay. Maybe I don’t need to be so terrified.

“Thanks,” I say slowly, then flip up my book, focusing intently on the little black words. They make my chaotic world melt away for a moment. My panic dips ever so slightly. Simon is awake, he’s okay. And for the first time ever, maybe I will be too.

———————————————

I’m laying on my bed, having my fifteenth existential crisis of the past three and a half weeks, when the door starts to open. I immediately bolt up like I’ve been electrocuted. It opens further, and every creak of old hinges sound like a thousand decibels to my ears. Soon, a tawny face peeks through, which makes my slow heartbeat skip. And when he smiles, it stops completely.

“Hey,” Snow says.

“Uh, hi. You’re back,” I say, like a useless idiot. Way to go, Basil.

“Yeah. They finally freed me.” He steps in, and I see the cane in his left hand. It’s dark red wood with a curved brass handle. It’s probably the most posh thing I’ve ever seen him with. He leans on it heavily as he walks in. His legs still look very shaky, like thin branches in the wind. He stumbles on the dip in the wood floor. Immediately I’m on my feet, rushing to his side. I catch his arms, and suddenly realise what the fuck I just did. My eyes meet Snow’s plain blue ones, wide and wondering. I have to actively stop myself from getting lost in them. We stare at each other as the seconds stretch out. I finally come back to my senses, then clear my throat and look away.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

“Y-Yeah,” Snow says.

“Good.” I take a step away, putting a respectable distance between us.

Snow steps forward, still leaning more than slightly on his cane. He sits heavily on his bed with a sigh. I sit on my own, legs pressed together, hands in my lap. I probably look like my father, far too respectable and reserved to look normal. I feel like I’m one bad moment away from falling apart or jumping out the bloody window.

“How are you feeling?” I stare at the dark wood floor. I don’t think I can look at him right now.

“Better,” Simon says. “Penny’s been helping me with moving. My muscles got all funny after two weeks stuck in a bed. But I can walk now, at least with a cane. And I can eat solid foods, thankfully.”

I chuckle quietly. “Back to scones?”

“Soon, hopefully.” I flick my eyes up for a moment, and unfortunately see his big dopey grin. My dead body melts into a white hot puddle. Damn Snow for being so painfully adorable. I have to look down again before I really do defenestrate myself.

“That’s good for you, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

There’s another stretch of silence. Long, tension filled, agonizing silence. It makes want to eat my own skin. The image is horrifying but accurate. My tongue feels heavy and any ideas for a sentence is utterly idiotic. I’m not used to being at a complete loss for words. Is this how Snow feels all the time? It’s terrible. It gives me a new brand of sympathy for him.

“So,” both Snow and I say at the exact same time.

I look up, and he’s looking back. We stare for a moment, until Snow makes a very dignified snort. It’s like a high pitch hog. My eyes go very wide.

“Sorry,” he giggles. “Sorry.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” I say.

He keeps giggling and snorting. And it’s so stupidly ridiculous, that I laugh as well. I’m quieter and more controlled, as usual, but I’m still laughing. Snow makes a few more snorts, and it turns into a full blown howl. Head thrown back, hand pressed to his stomach. It’s so beautiful and free, so different from when he was in that bed. Before I know it, I’m howling too. It’s the loudest I’ve laughed in my entire undead life. Our sounds fill the tiny room so perfectly, and it’s absolutely glorious. Bloody hell, why haven’t I felt like this before? Why can’t I feel like this all the time?

Slowly, we start to calm down. The room returns to its usual tranquility, only the sound of birds outside the window accompanying us. Snow and I look at each other once more. He softly smiles, and I smile back.

“I still like this,” he says quickly, like he’s trying to get the words out before he stumbles.

I fiddle with my shaking fingers. “Do we even know what this is, Snow?” He shrugs, making me roll my eyes. “Have you ever noticed half your sentences are shrugs?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I mean, I don’t know what this is yet. But I meant what I said before. Whatever this is, I really do like it better than fighting. Don’t you?”

I press my lips together, holding my tongue back before I say something stupid. Simon is still smiling, still looks hopeful. I know I shouldn’t want him, but every fibre of my being is crying out for Simon Snow. He offers out his hand, palm up, shaking ever so slightly. It’s so unbelievably kind, just like him.

“How can you even trust me? After everything?” I whisper harshly, because if I’m anything, I’m self destructive as fuck. Happiness and I aren’t allowed to mix, right?

“I’m not sure I fully do, but...” he shrugs and holds his hand out even farther, wiggling his fingers as much as he can. My pulse is faster than the speed of light.

Crowley, I hope I’m not doing something irrepreably idiotic.

Ignoring every sensible part of myself, I reach out and grab his hand.

Snow grins, brighter than the sun he resembles. He slowly laces our fingers together, probably waiting for me to pull away. But I don’t. For once I don’t run away. I let myself take a risk, on the smallest off chance I can find happiness. With Simon Snow.

“I want this too,” I say before I get scared. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Impossibly, Simon grins even harder. I’m going to go blind from his light. “I know.”

I raise a curious eyebrow. “How long have you wanted this?”

He shrugs, and I sigh in exasperation. “Yeah, sorry,” Snow giggles, “not the answer you’re hoping for, I guess.. I dunno when, Baz. I don’t really think about things I can’t do anything about. I just know that I want this now. That’s what matters, right?”

I sigh again, but tighten my grip on his hand. “Yeah, I suppose it is. I don’t know what we’re going to do though. There’s a lot in our way.”

“That’s been true about our whole lives, innit?”

I have to nod. “True enough.”

Simon stands up, legs buckling slightly. I grab his other arm and help him turn. He sits himself next to me, so close our legs press together. His warmth shoots up through my body, spreading like a wildfire. I’d gladly burn because of him.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says with complete confidence. “I’m the Mage’s Heir, you’re a Pitch. Between the two of us we can come up with something.”

Bloody hell. He’s so willing to just barrel forward with no plan. It’s ridiculous, yet oddly inspiring. Snow doesn’t need a plan. He just wants us to be happy. The frantic part of my mind can’t handle, overthinking and over-analyzing everything that could go wrong, which is a lot.

Simon keeps grinning. I feel warmer than I have in my entire life.

Fuck everything. I just want him.

“Okay,” I sigh.

Simon’s eyes widen. “Okay?”

“Okay, I’m in. You’re an idiot, but you can have...this, if you want.”

Now his perfect, pretty lips fall open, Crowley, is he trying to kill me? “Really?

I roll my eyes out of pure habit. “Do you have cotton in your ears? Yes, really, you nump-”

And then he kisses me.

The whole world comes to a screeching halt. I’m thrown into near catatonic shock, frozen as Simon bloody Snow pushes his scorching lips against mine. His right hand cups my cheek, calluses scratching my smooth skin in the best way. I’ve never known this kind of feeling. Literally. This is my first kiss. It’s warm, soft, and made a thousand times better because it’s him, Simon Snow. Simon Snow is my first kiss. He’s still kissing me.

I’m living a charmed life.

I stay frozen for longer than I should. Crowley, could I make it more bloody obvious I’m a kiss virgin? Eventually, I let my eyes flutter shut and raise a shaky hand to cup his cheek. It’s just as soft as his lips. I tilt my head ever so slightly, and so does Simon, slotting us together even more. He does this wonderful thing with his chin that makes my thoughts melt into putty. This can’t be happening.

Snow reaches back, brushing the nape of my neck, moving up to weave his fingers in my hair. Then he clenches his fist tight and jams our faces even closer together. I inhale sharply in shock.

Bloody hell, this is real.

I pull away a bit too suddenly. Snow blinks open his blurry, pupil blown eyes. His lips are red and swollen. Could he look anymore like an image from my dreams?

“Sorry,” he says. He’s out of breath. It’s amazing.

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just, well, you recently came out of a coma, and you’re still recovering. Maybe you shouldn’t be engaging in any...strenuous activities.”

Simon smiling and starts giggling. It’s utterly adorable. “Aw, you do care,” he says between snorts.

“Obviously.” I lean forward, tapping our foreheads together. It’s a stupidly romantic teen thing. I love it. “I care for you far too much, Simon.”

Snow slowly runs his thumb over my nape and brushes our noses together. “I care about you too. Definitely more than I thought I did.” He grabs my hand, putting it between us. “We’ll make this work, Baz. We’ve both gone through Hell. This will be a piece of cake.”

“And you do love cake.”

We chuckle together, holding each other’s faces, holding each other’s hands. There might be slightly less in our way than I thought, but there’s still a lot. But this is all I’ve ever wanted, and I’m going to fight like hell for it. I think Snow will too.

“We can do this,” he sighs, hot breath caressing my cool skin.

I hold Simon tight. I almost lost him once. Never again. “We can.”

Snow and I sit there for a long while. And for the first time in my miserable unlife, I feel at peace.

———————————————

AN: Hope y'all enjoyed that :) Tbh I feel like this isn't my best work but I'm still proud of it. The fact that I was able to write at all was an achievement. Also I love angsty overthinking Baz lol, and the ending was super sweet imo. I hope to get back to more regular posting soon. Thanks for being patient. See you peeps again soon :)

[theconfusedartist]

more hunty hunty meta ooh!

anyways, I just finished the greed island arc again (but this time it was the 1999 ver.) and I just realized the whole ‘only killua can hold it’ was a lot different than I remember people talking about it here. 

like, maybe it’s just the 1999 ver., but it’s really obvious that Gon feels terrible that he’s making Killua hold the ball. He won’t look anyone in the eyes the entire time that Tszgerra was telling him that Killua was injured, he wouldn’t take a ‘win’ he wanted absolute defeat, but not for himself. Which, the first time watching it, I didn’t really get it, but watching it again, I kinda understood why he was so mad and wanted a real ‘win’ against Razor. 

He was pissed off because Razor nearly killed Killua. Like, it wasn’t even subtext, or something vaguely hinted at, Gon gets up after taking that fucking METEOR to the face and hands, he’s got a concussion most likely as he’s pissed off to all hell and he’s literally not listening to anything that anyone is telling him. 

Bisky says, don’t kill yourself, don’t overdo it, then asks him what 2+2 is. Like while it does give a bit of humor to this otherwise really serious scene, it really does hit home the point that I’m trying to get at, as he just kept saying ‘yeah’ over and over again to what Bisky was saying and didn’t say ‘osu’ until she said to play as hard as he could even if it meant risking his life. 

Gon gets over to Hisoka and Killua and the first thing he says is that they have to defeat him completely because if Killua had dodged to the right, he would’ve been killed. I didn’t really see the whole issue in the 2011 ver. as it seems less about Killua and more being personally offended and determined to win the game, but in the 1999 ver., Gon had a chance to take the easy route (luckily for them they didn’t they would be dead, but at the time they didn’t even know that Genthuru was the bomber) but didn’t because he wanted to enjoy the game that his dad made with his best friend. 

Even though he was training with Bisky, often put his life on the line in the training, as well as going through that exhaustive process, Gon still wasn’t worried about the whole ‘needing to beat the game as fast as possible’. Gon and Killua saw they were weak and decided to improve on that, which lead to Bisky, which lead to training, to getting stronger, and getting to Razor. Up until this point, I don’t think Gon was taking this game ‘seriously’, in the sense he wasn’t trying to mine up for the spell cards, but just wanted to have a fun time with his friends, and the fight with Razor was really the first time that was threatened. Or second time, as they didn’t know what spell cards were the first time around and thought that Killua was going to die due to the spell card that he had cast on him. 

Up until then, while Gon was (understandably) upset about the mass murder that happened because of Genthuru, he wasn’t going out of his way to deal with it. With Killua’s hands getting trashed and him nearly dying if just out of chance, this little nice time that Gon decided to have with Killua was threatened, just like the first time Killua had a spell cast on him. 

And just like the first time, Gon was fucking pissed, and he gets just as angry this time around. But Gon, doesn’t seem to have very good situational skills, which is most likely due to the fact that he certainly has a concussion, so he just defaulted to what he thought was the most pressing thing at the moment: which he thought was avenging Killua. 

Yeah, Killua wasn’t dead, but that was something just due to chance, Gon wasn’t angry about getting shot into the wall and cracking the cement, but at the thought that Killua might have gotten seriously hurt or injured is just enough to send him over the edge to pushing and pushing for a perfect win, because he wants to beat him down for nearly getting Killua killed with that ball. 

When Tszegerra comes over to tell Gon that Killua’s hands are beaten to hell and back, Gon is very adamant about not looking at any of the people around him, he stares blankly at the wall, refuses to say anything or acknowledge what people are saying right up until the point that Killua gets into his view and keeps telling him over and over that he can do it. 

This isn’t the first time that Gon has went to crazy lengths before and Killua seems to make that protective rage spark to wild levels. And in Killua’s case, this is something that he already knows. How? Heaven’s Arena. When going against Gido and Rehevelt (look I don’t know how to spell it, and they aren’t really all that noteworthy that I care to look them up either, so take the chair guy’s badly put name as just an aside as this is something I’m writing at like 6 am) Gon uses hatsu to deflect the tops and Killua notes that this was a psychological tactic to terrify Gido. Gon gets Gido on the ground and as the man is staring up at him, begging for his life, Gon ignores that and punches Gido while he’s down on the ground as hard as he can without nen and without aiming to really kill him either. He ends the fight saying that Gido better not ever try something like that again or he’ll do even worse. 

Killua is noticeably pleased about it lol, not the major point, but they were in key enough that Killua can tell Gon is legit angry at the three of them and was going out of his way to kick their ass. I just wanted to point out the fact that at Heaven’s Arena, they were both on the same wavelength, whereas here, in the Greed Island arc, they aren’t since Killua personally isn’t slighted at the fact that Razor nearly killed him, but Gon is and while Killua understands this, there is a reason that he’s the cool headed one, after all, he’s not emotionally mature enough to be able to tell Gon that this isn’t something that they have to beat Razor at. Why? Because Gon is angry for Killua’s sake. He’s furious for Killua’s sake, and that’s why he’s willing to go so far. Not because Razor is a real person, not because he wants to play a game and win, but because Killua nearly died and to Gon that is something that he feels he needs to avenge. And when the last time Killua really had someone willing to go to bat for him? 

Killua expresses that to Illumi all he wants to do is be a normal kid and be friends with Gon, but he doesn’t really get to do anything about it when Illumi uses his nen on him to get him to go back home. Killua fully expects to stay locked up within his family’s estate and for everything to go back to the way they were before he ran away, but Gon comes back. Gon feels that he has worth, that he’s worth the risk, that going through all this is absolutely worth is because it’s for Killua, and Gon makes sure over and over again to show Killua (both with words and his actions) that Killua is a special person to Gon, someone he’s willing to fight and die for, if need be, and obviously one of the closest people to his heart. 

The fight with Razor only takes what was there before and amplifies it to a whole nother level. Because this isn’t the first time that Gon’s ‘avenged’ Killua before. Attacking Illumi after the hunter exam for making him feel terrible, then to get the information of where Killua was to take him back, at Heaven’s Arena, doesn’t even give Rehevelt the benefit of a fight, that was a straight ass whooping. Why? Because he shocked Killua with one million watts. It’s something I don’t really see talked about here very often, but I remember seeing one post talking about the fact that Gon did what he did to Rehevelt as payback. 

Gon doesn’t punch or try to do the usual fight thing, he grabs a stone from the ring, grabs Rehevelt, then makes him think that he’s going to shock him with the same one million volts. In the 1999 ver., he even goes so far to make sound effects which (while fucking hilarious to hear Gon’s dubbed voice go ‘zapzapzapzapzap’) is wild because he wanted Rehevelt to go through the same pain that he put Killua through. But Gon’s a nice kid, he doesn’t like killing people. So, he does the next best thing! Makes them think and truly believe they’re about to die. 

This bit with Razor was something that was just building, and after going to Whale Island with Killua, through Heaven’s Arena, and then the months on Greed Island have only made Gon and Killua more fond of each other, to the point that where Gon was willing to let someone go with terrible mental scars, now he has to beat this one dude because he nearly killed someone precious to him, and that person only survived on chance. 

And Killua knows this. He absolutely knows this. He hides his hands and keeps them out of sight, makes sure Gon isn’t thinking about how bruised up his fingers are and puts them in his pockets to make sure he doesn’t see them. And when Gon even has the idea that Killua shouldn’t be the one holding the ball, when Gon for once looks like he’s about to give way to reason and logic rather than determination and stubbornness, Killua goes right in front of him, where he can’t avoid him, and says that he can do this. That he can take it one more time.

Gon knew that Killua’s hands were messed up, but the thing is, Gon wants to avenge Killua, that no longer matters when Killua goes to Gon and tells him to trust in him and believe him when he says that he can hold onto the ball just one more time to win. Gon trusts Killua, with his life and basically everything else (save for more emotional matters, but that doesn’t come into play nearly as much until the CA arc, getting off topic here, excuse me) so hearing Killua give him the go ahead is all he needs to be as reckless as he needs to be. Why? Because Killua is his precious person, who was nearly killed, in trying to avenge him, he’s hurting him worse and worse with every single attempt to make ‘right’ what’s wrong, and Killua isn’t telling him that he should stop, in fact he’s urging Gon on to believe and trust in him, and Gon makes it clear to Killua, the only reason he can do this is because it’s him. He make sure that Killua knows he’s important to him and that he’s going to trust and believe in him, because he’s important to him and he’s not going to second guess him, not when he believes in him so passionately. 

Both characters could’ve avoided these injuries and issues, but they’re both 13ish at this point, Gon is concussed and Killua wants to go along with what Gon wants because Gon is consistently trying to tell him (with words and actions) that Killua is important to him and that he’s apart of his life. 

That’s why he goes ahead with that final blow. And in wanting to avenge Killua, he puts him at more risk as he’s no longer able to defend himself, and Killua who wants the confirmation that he’s important to Gon and a large part of his life, is absolutely willing to go down that path with him because Gon is a special person to him as well.

tl;dr: Gon and Killua are both incredibly important to one another and it’s their own personal flaws that end up getting the other hurt or leading to misunderstandings, despite their best interests and affections that are close to their hearts. 

[my-writing-cluster-fluff]

A Change in Attitude Ch 3

Ch 1 , Ch 2

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/ Fem! Harry Potter Word Count: 1077 A/N: Ayyyeee I’m back with another chapter. Fancy, I know. So this one has some spells in it that aren’t really well known, so I put them in some notes that will follow after the chapter. I got the spells from Michael Gonzalez’s book ‘The Unofficial Harry Potter Spellbook: Wizard in Training’. I got it off of amazon for like $10, and I have to say that I highly recommend it cause it’s cool af. But yeah! I hope you enjoy, even if there’s 0 Hari/Draco interaction lol. At some point they’ll talk again I guess :)

The duels were interesting, to say the least. The Slytherin students were for the most part far more skilled in the ways of dueling, and it showed in the length of duels. Seamus went down fairly quickly against Daphne, although he did manage to singe her hair a bit.

Moody didn’t stick to the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin rivalry, and pitted those in the same house against each other a fair number of times. Hermione and Ron were actually paired together, and Hermione unsurprisingly took Ron down quickly.

Hari was one of the last to be paired up, with only Malfoy, Nott, and Neville left.

“Nott, Potter, you’re up,” Moody barked, and the two of them hurried to take their positions. “Bow, and take the three steps back,” he instructed. “Begin!”

“Stupefy!” Hari said, sending the jet of red light towards Nott, sidestepping the ‘silencio’ that he sent at her. She kept her feet moving, knowing that if she stayed in place she would have to use more power to maintain a shield charm. Nott had erected a shield, and it evaporated Hari’s spell when it came into contact with it. “Relashio,” was Hari’s next spell that she sent, standing a few steps away from the edge of the wall where the Slytherin students were standing.

Nott dodged that spell, and quickly sent both a ‘petrificus totalus,’ and a whispered spell that looked similar to the jelly-leg-jinx, in Hari’s opinion. Hari moved, able to evade the first spell, but sent up a shield charm, and sent an ‘orbis’ to Nott’s feet, ‘lumos solem’ to the area above his eyes, and quietly uttered “Expelliarmus,” catching Nott’s wand as it flew towards her.

She muttered the counter-spell to cancel the sunlight, and walked towards Nott to return his wand. Nott nodded at her, acknowledging her victory.

“Well done, Potter. Using sunlight to distract your opponent. That is why constant vigilance is so important, students!” Hari blushed, and walked back to the Gryffindor line, where Hermione quietly congratulated her.

“Alright, and lastly we have Longbottom and Malfoy. Get in your places.”

Immediately when they began, Malfoy sent a tickling charm towards Neville, and a bombarda to his feet. Neville used a shield to block the charm, but the slivers of stone cut into his skin, causing small trickles of blood to fall from his face and arms. Neville sent a sticking charm to Malfoy, but was disarmed almost immediately after.

“Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Attacking ones surroundings will distract them, especially if it is with an explosion.” Moody looked around at all of the students, some of them injured and some of them not, but none were too severely hurt. “All injured students will report to the hospital wing, and the rest are released from class. Good work everyone, and remember. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody finished, shouting his catch-phrase.

The students grabbed their bags and hustled out of the room, a little under half heading towards the hospital wing, the rest heading to their next classes.

“Well, that was a rather interesting lesson, don’t you think?” Hermione asked.

“Definitely,” Ron said. “Even if I did let you beat me, it was bloody cool to see how everyone fights.”

Hari nodded. “It’s pretty nice to see how different all of our backgrounds are, and what kinds of spells we know. Like, the Slytherins seem to have more training in dueling and combat magic, while the Gryffindors are more protection and distraction based.” Hari paused, thinking about what spells had been used. “It is weird, though, that the Slytherin students didn’t really use any dark magic, considering that they’re known for using it…”

Hermione glanced at her, a little surprised that Hari had caught that. “I know. Maybe they were trying to keep the fight a little cleaner, with less injuries?”

Ron scoffed at that. “The Slytherins wouldn’t care if they caused more injuries, they probably just didn’t want to get in trouble because Moody hates dark wizards so much.”

Hari frowned, not able to bring herself to believe that. “I don’t know, Ron. I feel like they don’t truly want to injure us. There are plenty of dark spells that don’t hurt people much. Maybe they’re just trying to stay on better terms with us by using more of the types of spells that we know and know how to defend ourselves against.” Hermione nodded her head at that, finding it more believable.

“Even if I’ve had some bad experiences with certain Slytherins, it’s not as if they’re all evil. Especially considering that we’re all just here to learn,” Hermione said.

The three of them headed to History of Magic, trailing a bit behind the other Gryffindors that were heading there as well. Everyone drifted in reluctantly, even the Ravenclaw students, settling into their seats as Binns drifted into the classroom and began droning on about the Third Goblin War, which he had already covered five times at least over their school career.

Hari’s earlier fatigue swept over her as she listened to Binns’ monotone voice, and began thinking about how the Slytherin students hadn’t used much, if any, dark magic. Nott had used a shield charm that was at least gray, if not dark. Crabbe had used a dark jinx to confuse Lavender, which had apparently only caused her to see double vision of Crabbe, which she had claimed would haunt her until she died. And Zabini had used a dark bone-breaking curse, but it had made a clean fracture rather than shattering Goyle’s wand-arm.

None of the dark spells used had been any worse than the light ones. Bombarda could have made a person explode if targeted directly at them, lumos solem could possibly blind a person if powered to an extreme, and stupefy could give someone a concussion if they fell and hit their head I the wrong way.

Honestly, Hari thought that the Slytherin students were simply using more of what was considered acceptable, especially to those like Ron who thought that dark magic was evil and not to be used. Not to mention that most students didn’t know how to counter many dark spells, even if it would be more helpful for them to know in the long run. It was, after all, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Yet they mainly learned how to defend themselves against light spells.

Strange.

Hari’s head was getting dangerously close to her desk, when Hermione smacked her arm to jolt her awake.

Notes: Relashion – A spell that makes a person or object release what they are holding or binding. Orbis – a spell that sucks the target into the ground Lumos solem – creates a ray of light as bright as the sun

[foofygoldfish]

deputy alice riley

Soooooooooo this is gonna be long, but it’s pretty much anything you could ever want to know about alice lol

her full name is Claire Alice Riley, though she pretty much only goes by Alice. Staci calls her Allie, and she haaates it.

She was born in Falls End on October 30th, 1992.

Her face claim is Anya Taylor-Joy, just shorter (5′) and with pink hair. She naturally has dark brown hair, though when her hair isn’t pink, she dyes it blonde.

Her childhood in Fall’s End was fairly average - her sister was annoying (Jane was the designated babysitter, and hated it), so was her brother (he loved frogs and spiders, she… didn’t; though she got him back by her loving snakes and him being terrified of them, which is still true), her parents were happily married. The car crash happened after a Girl Scout’s meeting (the troop disbanded not long after, but not because of the crash) that her dad picked her up from. She came out with a broken arm and a concussion, but that was it. She doesn’t really remember much from the few hours before or after the crash. A few years after, the Sheriff had Jane (who had custody at this point) send her and Caleb to California, where her aunt and uncle were her legal guardians. Her uncle is a chef for big events, so he had weird hours, but they were able to live comfortably and (to Alice’s amazement, Caleb’s disdain) to have passes to Disneyland and Knott’s Berry Farm. Her aunt works in the industry and travels a lot, but both of them tried to be home more for the first few weeks after the twins moved in. The twins were both involved with theatre, but Caleb is the one with the real acting talent - Alice thought about being a voice actor, but it’s more of a hobby for her than anything. 

Her family owns the Fall’s End Garage - she’s not the best at the mechanical side of running the shop, but she’s pretty good at running the business side of things. She wanted to ban peggies from the shop, but Jane wouldn’t let her.

Lives in the house behind the garage in Fall’s End - it was her parents, her sister kept it after she moved in with her then-boyfriend - she didn’t want to stay, but nobody was really looking to buy houses at that point, so she boarded it up for the twins. Jane joined after the house was “given” to Alice, so the house was fine. 

She misses LA like crazy, especially once winter hits. She loves having rainy days again, but ten years of no winter? Her dream.

Her brother, Caleb, thinks the testy festy is hilarious, and after everything is over, is so mad that he missed it. Alice doesn’t agree with him. At all.

She’s technically Catholic - she was baptised, went to her first communion, and then pretty much stopped going to church. She goes to Pastor Jerome’s masses for the comfort and traditions when she moves back, but she doesn’t really believe.

She loves being on the water. She prefers surfing and kayaking, but adapts to the lakes and rivers of Hope County quickly. She’s not a huge fan of fish, but she starts to like fishing at some point. She definitely prefers it to hunting, and if given the choice, will definitely go fishing.

Speaking of hunting... Alice has a habit of darting off into a field of bliss when she’s bored hunting in the Henbane. She doesn’t actively do drugs, and doesn’t want to be an angel, but... She gets bored. And has impulse issues sometimes.

The Seeds tease/taunt her because of her height - she doesn’t even come up to Jacob’s shoulder, which I also think is kinda hilarious lol. Staci used to tease her too, but the entire department learned not to/were told by Whitehorse to stop (unless she can’t reach something and she doesn’t have anything to climb on)

When everything’s done, she helps Grace open up a little cafe. There’s plenty of people to help run it, and she thinks that (after a nice vacation) it would be good for Grace, and eventually Jess as well.

The Sheriff forces her to take a vacation after everything. She tries to go back to just being the Junior Deputy, but she gets roped into continuing to help the resistance. She pretty much takes over Virgil’s responsibilities as mayor, and helps to set up a small school for the few kids left in the county.

If you’ve seen Wynonna Earp - she has the same blue and white truck as Wynonna. She came back to Fall’s End with her little electric car, but that isn’t really feasible to keep using, so she took it up to Missoula one day and sold it. The salesman tried to sell her a fancy new truck, but she was happy with the one Jane had kept for her.

Most called gun for hire: Jess and Grace. She’s not the best at being sneaky, and her eyes aren’t the best for sniping (she had an optometrist appointment for a week after the initial mission, she obviously missed it), so she almost has one or both of them with her. When she needs to just fuck shit up, she’ll call Sharky, though

She started at the sheriff’s office as a secretary - it was a job, and she’d be able to look after her sister (“who didn’t need looking after” but there had been some fainting spells), and then after Hudson’s partner died, Whitehorse told her that she could apply for the role, and she took him up on that. 

If she did join the cult, she’d have a fairly nondescript position - probably something administrative, as that’s what her degree is in. Definitely something behind the scenes and non-violent.

Fucking loves disaster movies. She’s a slut for disaster movies. Like, she’ll sit through all the shitty SyFy channel ones as well as the big budget ones (San Andreas is one of her favorites - it’s so cheesy, but it has Dwayne Johnson and Alexandra Daddario, AND GIANT FUCKIN EARTHQUAKES. And the guy from Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries who is a total teddy bear)

She doesn’t really like planes or helicopters - if they are needed, she’ll get Nick or Addie. She knows enough to take off and land, but she’ll avoid flying herself if at all possible. The mission where Kim has her take Carmina and blow up peggie supplies? Fucking terrifying.

She rock climed and did some parkour back in LA. She didn’t keep up with it when she moved, but it obviously comes in handy...

Alice has two cats: Crookshanks and Data. They are both huge Norwegian forest cats, Crookshanks is an orange tabby, and Data is a grey tabby. When she’s not home, Mary May happily takes care of them.

She has a shitton of anxiety problems. She had a decent supply of meds when shit went down.

She has a major panic attack after driving Nick and Kim to the clinic. Even without the shit all over the road, she was terrified that she would crash and hurt or kill the Ryes. 

Relationships:

Jane - She’s 8 years older than Alice. Alice absoultely does not approve of her relationship with John, and is horrified when she finds out that her sister married the fucker.

Caleb - Both of them are horrible at keeping in contact, so he’s not worried at all when she goes off the radar. 

Joseph - She thinks he’s full of shit lol

John - Direct quote from when she’s told her sin is wrath: “No, it’s not wrath, it’s I fucking hate you.” Once they’re able to laugh about it, Hudson doesn’t let her live that down.

Faith - Uh, she obvs thinks Faith is the cutest. She has a hard time keeping her sass to an angry level, rather than super flirty.

Jacob - They fucked. After the Rye’s barbeque with the infamous watery mac n cheese. I still haven’t figured out why? She hates him now, and absoultely regrets the one night stand (...mostly. She thinks.)

Mary May - Her childhood best friend. They tried to keep in contact after Alice moved, but they eventually both moved on - Alice with new friends in LA, Mary May with helping to run the bar.

Pastor Jerome - He doesn’t mind that she isn’t a practicing Catholic, and welcomes her with open arms. She tries to get people to go to his church again after everything, to mixed levels of success.

Dutch - She’s not a huge fan of him, but she’s grateful for his help, and he is grateful for what she does and how she helps Jess.

Eli - He can’t reconcile the image of the Junior Deputy and the Alice he knows in his head - she doesn’t act anything like the rumors flying around the county, but he loves her (as a friend).

Tracey - They don’t get along very well - it’s a very strained, very professional relationship. Tracey knows that Alice likes Faith, and is very worried that she’ll be too soft on her.

Virgil - She loves his pins, which makes her super cool in his book. They quickly become friends, and he becomes a sorta mentor to her before his death.

Nick and Kim - Nick finds it hilarious that she hates planes so much, and he only uses it to tease her sometimes. Nick quickly becomes like an older brother to her, and she spoils Baby Rye rotten after she’s born.

Adelaide - Also amused by Alice’s feelings on flying, but doesn’t bring it up often as Alice was a frequent visitor to the marina before shit went down. Adelaide doesn’t understand Alice’s crush on Faith, but she will tease her about it (as long as Alice doesn’t defect).

Grace - The two met once before Grace’s parade, and then again at Alice’s dad’s funeral. They get along pretty well, and Alice always has her with her when liberating outposts or doing anything that requires her to have good vision.

Hurk - He drives her insane. She thinks he’s funny, and a really nice guy, but he’s so loud.

Sharky - On the other hand, she loves Sharky. She teases him about the time he puked on Grace every time he mentions having an upset stomach. They’ve drunkenly kissed a few times, but they both try and act like it didn’t happen.

Jess - In the main story? Her girlfriend by the end of the game. Jess teaches her how to hunt properly, even though Alice hates it. Jess joins in her teasing of Sharky about the puking. She hates it when Jess uses the fire arrows - Sharky and Hurk already set her clothes on fire, she doesn’t need it from her super-stealthy person! At the end of everything, she tries to convince Jess to play video games (instead of killing people), to some but not much success.

Relationship wise: They start off with drunken kisses, then one night stands, and then realise that the amount of one night stands (and nights when they fall asleep together) they have mean they’re kinda girlfriends. 

Fangs - She sleeps with Boomer in her bed every night, despite her cats protests. She’ll cuddle with Peaches and Cheeseburger when it’s cold and she’s outside, but it’s a little harder to get the two of them inside the house.

Marshal Burke - She thinks he’s a decent person, a little egotistical, but decent. She’s super shocked when he shoots himself.

Whitehorse - He’s part of the reason she starts to not mind fishing. He’s her surrogate dad, and has been looking out for her since her dad died. They’re both relieved to see each other after the crash.

Hudson - She’s not too sure about Alice at first, but she quickly becomes protective of the “city girl,” and willingly does all of the night driving.

Staci - Her brother’s ex-best friend (for the same reasons as with Mary May). She didn’t really get past “I tolerate you” until the events of the game. After he’s rescued, they become platonic cuddle buddies, even after he starts his thing with Stella. They both agree to not tell Caleb exactly what happened to both of them.