#it even has a Title... it has an Ending...

[lytefoot]

I think the most hazardous thing about AI as a cheating tool is how little effort it takes to generate something that looks acceptable if you don't know anything.

If OP had just copied and pasted the entire Sparknotes page, they would have known that was unacceptable. If they'd written an essay that went, "Yeah, this book sucked and I hated it. I hated the movie, too. So the book and the movie were similar that way," they would have known that didn't meet the assignment.

I get tons of ChatGPT essays every time I assign writing. They universally do not meet either the prompt or the structural guidelines. But students who are used to using these things just assume that they've done what they were asked to do! Most of my writing assignments could be completed by going through the example and replacing the specific facts. However, doing that would require reading the assignment and understanding what they were being asked to do, the steps that AI cheating purports to circumvent.

Like, listen. In order to encourage people to actually do the assignment, I give 5 points for giving the essay a title and header. If a student turned in a word document with the appropriate header, a centered title, and then the entire essay was just, "Yeah, I got nothing," they would get 5 points. On one of my assignments, if they wrote "Yeah, I got nothing," five times on separate lines, they'd have 15 points, because there's a 10-point rubric item for "Has five paragraphs." The rubric is public.

Most of the GPT essays I get don't even do that and end up getting zero.

That's the thing that's really insidious about GPT-based cheating. Unlike other kinds of cheating, it doesn't require basic comprehension of what the assignment is asking for in order to produce results that look like a response to the assignment.

I don't think it's necessarily "making [people] dumber," simply because I think most of the people trying to cheat their way through school using AI today would have simply not done the assignments in a previous era. To me, the biggest problem with "AI" cheating is that an assignment that wasn't turned in is much easier to grade than a pile of AI slop.

Whenever I think about students using AI, I think about an essay I did in high school. Now see, we were reading The Grapes of Wrath, and I just couldn't do it. I got 25 pages in and my brain refused to read any more. I hated it. And its not like I hate the classics, I loved English class and I loved reading. I had even enjoyed Of Mice and Men, which I had read for fun. For some reason though, I absolutely could NOT read The Grapes of Wrath.

And it turned out I also couldn't watch the movie. I fell asleep in class both days we were watching it.

This, of course, meant I had to cheat on my essay.

And I got an A.

The essay was to compare the book and the movie and discuss the changes and how that affected the story.

Well it turned out Sparknotes had an entire section devoted to comparing and contrasting the book and the movie. Using that, and flipping to pages mentioned in Sparknotes to read sections of the book, I was able to bullshit an A paper.

But see the thing is, that this kind of 'cheating' still takes skills, you still learn things.

I had to know how to find the information I needed, I needed to be able to comprehend what sparknotes was saying and the analysis they did, I needed to know how to USE the information I read there to write an essay, I needed to know how to make sure none of it was marked as plagerized. I had to form an opinion on the sparknotes analysis so I could express my own opinions in the essay.

Was it cheating? Yeah, I didn't read the book or watch the movie. I used Sparknotes. It was a lot less work than if I had read the book and watched the movie and done it all myself.

The thing is though, I still had to use my fucking brain. Being able to bullshit an essay like that is a skill in and of itself that is useful. I exercised important skills, and even if it wasnt the intended way I still learned.

ChatGTP and other AI do not give that experience to people, people have to do nothing and gain nothing from it.

Using AI is absolutely different from other ways students have cheated in the past, and I stand by my opinion that its making students dumber, more helpless, and less capable.

However you feel about higher education, I think its undeniable that students using chatgtp is to their detriment. And by extension a detriment to anyone they work with or anyone who has to rely on them for something.

[bunsim]

Did you know you can modify your game files to start with custom lots in the lot bin? Did you know you can add your favorite lots to the program files and you'll never have to import them ever again? I sure didn't. Here's how.

Part 1: Freshen Up That Lot!

Locate the lot you want to freshen up. If it's in your Documents > LotCatalog, it'll be named something like cx_00000001.package. [Hint: you can use CleanInstaller to browse your LotCatalog with pictures!]

Clean it up using LotCleaner and LotCompressor (and Magic Wand, if you want). Here's a tutorial. Do NOT skip this step, or you risk contaminating future save files with old sim references.

Make it a spiffy new picture. Personally I like to lump my similar lots together with a similar title/street name. And I color-code using CatherineTCJD's color-coding format. If you want to match me, you can download my template psd here.

Open your lot in Simpe and replace that old preview. Click 'jpg/png image'. Right click the property > Replace. Change file format to 'all files' to see your image. Click either 'yes' or 'no' on the 'resource changed' popup (it doesn't matter--one updates the image preview immediately, the other doesn't). Click save.

Part 2: Relocation Time! *MAIN LOT BIN*

You cleaned up your lot, right? No sim references left? Don't skip this step or you risk messing up future hoods. Clean up that lot!

Select your lot file and rename it to the cx_00000000.package format. You can use any numbers but it must be in that format and have 8 digits. The number denotes the order so get creative with your categories. (ex: lots cx_00000100-150: modern houses / cx_00000200-250: beachy, etc.). You can use any bulk renamer to rename files in order without having to manually number each one.

Pick an Expansion for your files. Mansion and Garden comes first in the lot bin, Base Game last. The expansion you select will denote the location of your lots within the catalog. The file location is the same in every expansion, so you can even spread your lots around for max organization.

Move your cx_#.package lot file to Program Files > The Sims 2 > [expansion of your choice (ex. Nightlife)] > TSData > Res > UserData > LotCatalog. You will already see some files here. These are the maxis lots that fill the lot bin every new game. You can delete them if you really want to, or just change the extension to something else to make them go away. (Catherine has a backup if you need them back.)

Done! Now your custom lots will prefill the lot bin every time you generate a new The Sims 2 save file in your documents!

This will not pre-fill existing games. If you want to put your new clean lots into your current file, rename your main The Sims 2 save file (in your Documents folder) something else. Launch Sims 2 so it regenerates a clean copy. Create a new Hood, let the game load, and check out the LotCatalog. It will be now filled with your brand-new lots. Copy them over to your main file's LotCatalog. [Check your main LotCatalog in game to make sure you won't be deleting/overwriting anything you want to keep (make a backup just in case!) Check it again with CleanInstaller. Do not delete/overwrite occupied homes! And delete your old and crusty lots in game if you want to be extra safe.]

Part 3: Relocation Time... 2! *SPECIALTY LOT BIN*

You cleaned up your lot, right? No sim references left? Don't skip this step or you risk messing up future hoods. Clean up that lot.

We will now populate the second tab in the lot catalog, the Specialty lot bin that holds Hotels and Apartments. You can put whatever you want in here; it doesn't have to be hotels or apts. You can move lots from the main catalog to this one, if you want. These lots do not appear in the LotCatalog of your main save file, in case you try to look for them there later. They only exist in the program files.

Rename your files. Unlike the previous lots, you can name these lots anything you want, as long as it ends in _Permanent.package. stinky_Permanent.package is perfectly fine. Name it something descriptive.

Pick an Expansion for your files. You can put them in any Expansion folder, but personally I keep my apts in Apartment Life to stay organized.

Move your files. Take your stinky_Permanent.package and move it to Program Files > The Sims 2 > [expansion of your choice (ex. Nightlife)] > TSData > Res > LotTemplates. You'll see some other files here already. These are blank lots and hotels/apts (if you're in Apt Life or Bon Voyage). Don't touch the blank lots, but you can remove the hotels/apartments if you don't want them. (You can move them to the main lot bin by renaming the files to the cx_# format and moving to the location in part 2). You can open them in SimPe to check what they are, but Catherine has a visual list here.

Done! These lots will appear in the Specialty lot bin every time you boot up the game, even in your current saved game.

Have fun and enjoy organizing!

[PS: did you know you can not only delete or relocate existing bin lots, but replace them with better, and cooler lots by simply overwriting the existing cx_0000000 files in your UserData > LotCatalog folders? Catherine has a visual guide which file is which, if you want to reinvent them all. The lot bin is your oyster!]

credits: CatherineTCJD for the Lot Refresh project that made me learn this. Bluerubberbear for the majority of the lots in my thumbnails and the lot in the psd file. Plumbtales for the other lots in the thumbnails and for the beautiful lot makeovers that I replaced maxis's community lots with.

[omnitrash]

How do you think some of the self aware characters would react knowing the player had a very obvious favourite?

Like their favourite is Nero and they absolutely spoil him in red orbs compared to other characters. Or their favourite is a non-playable character like Nico and they purposefully stay for 10 minutes on the shop screen just to see her lol

Uhhhh, okay, I think I’ll do these in mini scenarios. Hope that’s ok, so, fuck it we ball, HERE WE GO-

Self Aware Dmc!! - Playing Favorites!!

Dante Sparda- if he was your favorite, he’d be excited. But also extremely cocky about it. Of course he’s your favorite!! He’s been the main character for the first three games and the one you use the most, no duh you choose him! He’d waste no time in bragging to anyone he could force to listen. And the others could try to shut him up but he knew they were jealous! Especially his brother and his nephew. I mean sure, he ended up fighting with them more because he kept teasing them over your bias towards him but it’s not his fault you had good taste! But if he wasn’t, he’d get pouty and whiny about it. He’d make his combos a little easier for you if you weren’t good at getting them yet and even go as far as to mess with the code just to get in your favorite’s way! Not too much though, just a bit. He wouldn’t want to ruin his little sweetheart’s gameplay, after all

“I’m your favorite…? Wha- uh I mean of course I am!! Never doubted it for a second, sweetheart!!”

“Huh?! Why them?? I’m so much better than them sweetheart!! That’s not fair!!..don’t worry little sweetheart, I’ll change your mind soon enough”

Vergil Sparda- he’d be surprised, to say the least. He never focused on such childish preferences like picking favorites but if his dearest angel saw him as such, he’d have no objection. Unlike his little brother, he wouldn’t outright brag like he knows he would but he’d definitely show it in more subtle ways…like actually reminding him through whispers and then later getting into a fight with him. Something that Nero and others have had to stop several times. Otherwise if it’s towards the others, he doesn’t bother to actually show off…not verbally at least. If anyone payed attention, they’d notice his demeanor seemed more confident. Acting more haughty than usual. If he wasn’t the favorite however, he’d like to think he’s indifferent towards it. Thinking he has better things to do than be jealous of not being your favorite…but then he realizes he’s just as attention hungry as everyone else and tries to make you pick him by performing much more whenever you choose to play as him.

“Your favorite?…I see. I have no need for such childish titles but if my dearest angel sees me as such, I won’t object to it.”

“…huh…and to think I was above such jealousy..no matter. It’s only a matter of time until I prove I’m more worthy of your bias, my dear”

Nero Sparda and Kyrie- the couple would be rather flustered and surprised that you’d pick both as your favorite and not separated. Didn’t you obsess over Nero the most?? Well, not like they minded this, they don’t think they had the heart to be jealous over the other and something tells them you’d feel bad if you choose to favor only one of them too! Their little angel was so sweet. Ahem- anyway. They’re glad to know you like them that much, often gushing about it -mostly Kyrie- between the two of them. Nero, though, would try and brag about it to the rest of the cast, with Kyrie trying to stop it as to not cause any trouble. If they weren’t your favorites though, they’d support one another in coming up with ideas to change that! Nero would do his best to outperform the others in combat (like father like son, after all), Kyrie would do her utmost to do her best performance while singing (she remembers you saying you liked her voice after all). However sometimes, they’d sneak in some extra cutscenes to give you more time with them. Smiling at the other when you’d give them attention and gush over them. It made their efforts worth it

“They…like the two of us? As their favorites??” “Yeah!! Isn’t that great, Nero?” “I-I guess so, Kyrie…” “They’re so cute! I’m sure they didn’t choose only one of us because they’d feel bad” “Yeah. I can see that…poor snowdrop”

“Shit, we’re not their favorites?” “Aww…oh! Maybe I can sing for them more! They said they liked it, didn’t they?” “Yeah…and maybe I can amp it up with the combos” “Good idea!! And we can give them more cutscenes of us!!” “Atta girl Kyrie. Let’s get to work” “Right, Nero!”

Trish- she’s be amused if she was you’re favorite. By all means, she doesn’t hate it, but she finds it funny how -how was it, ah right- “down bad” you were for her. Even though you knew she was just a demon based on Eva’s appearance, you didn’t treat her as such and never compared her to the human woman. You fell for her and her only…she loved it. She saw no need to brag about your bias towards her, but if any of the cast mentioned it she saw no issue in reminding them of your favoritism. Like Vergil, she’d show it in more subtle ways like acting more confident than usual. If she wasn’t though, she’d try to include herself in the game more often. Giving her little spark more content of her since they always seemed to gush over her the little times she was on screen.

“How sweet…do you really like me that much, little spark? I’m honored~ I really do appreciate it…thank you, my dear spark. For seeing me as me..”

“Hm…it seems like I need to work harder to have your eyes on me for a little longer, little spark. No matter…I’ll make sure you’re shocked by my skills”

Lady- she’d be startled by it, if she was your favorite. Like Trish, she doesn’t have much content, mostly interacting with her little doll through brief cutscenes or if you played as her in Dmc4 during her time in Fortuna. But seeing you gush over her and spoil her in red orbs is…nice. She supposed it wasn’t bad. She didn’t see the point in bragging about it, but she’d seem more cocky than usual. The way she carried herself seemed more elevated, as if your bias towards affected her entire demeanor (though the same could be said about everyone else). If she wasn’t your favorite, however, she’d be agitated. She wants her little doll’s attention, damn it!! And she’s not above playing dirty to get it. Whether that means she has to manipulate the code to mess with others or amp up her ammo and make it easier to play with her, she’ll do it. Anything to get her doll’s gaze on her and her only

“I’m your favorite…? Tch, whatever. Guess it ain’t that bad, dolly. I could get used to it..”

“HUH?! What d’you mean I’m not their favorite?!…fine! Guess I gotta take things into my own hands then. I’ll have your eyes on me soon enough, little doll”

Nicoletta Goldstein- she’s off the fucking walls. Her little Tinker Bell picked her as their favorite?! Oh that’s rich! She’s gonna be bragging it in Nero’s face any time she can. A lil’ ol’ mechanic like her? Who ain’t even playable and she’s the bias? She’s having the time of her life. She’s flattered that she was picked, appreciating the ways you’d stick around the Home Screen to see her for as long as you could before staring the next mission or a new run of the game. If she wasn’t a favorite though, she’d shrug it off. She’s not that typa’ girl who would get stuck on that kinda thing (unlike the rest of cast). She’d just go on about her work like usual and if she happened to impress you, then that’s good enough for her!…wouldn’t stop her from messing with Nero’s equipment though. Just a little bit, that’s all

“Well I’ll be! I’m the little Tinker Bell’s favorite! Ain’t they the sweetest thing?…fine fine, go on to your next mission boys. I won’t hold ya’ back any longer. Heh”

“Hm…so the favorite’s someone else, huh? Whatever, their choice not mine…won’t stop me from messing with Nero’s gear though…heheheh…”

[weaver77]

Ready player 2

Gamer Shiesty!Mark x Reader

Part 1

Inspired by @clairewritesfanfics version of Shiesty, I didn't know i needed gamer Shiesty until now.

If Mark were to go back in time and told his past self, that he would one day. Buy Animal crossing, Stardew Valley and even the Sims. He would have promptly laugh in his face and tell him to fuck off

And really, Mark couldn't blame him. Because after all he hadn't meet you yet.

When the two of you started dating he didn't expect it to last long.

At best, he thought it would last for a week or two. Before ultimately the two of you would part ways due to respective differences.

But that never happen.

Instead he was surprise when not only did you made an effort to know the things he liked. But you remembered them too.

He mentioned offhandedly about an anime character he liked and you got him a keychain of said character.

Before he knew it, the two of you started talking about all his favorite series, games. Heck, he even showed you the cosplays he made and the figurines he collected.

For the first time in his life, Mark felt like could just be himself around someone. Not Invincible the masked hero or Mark the resident bad boy who gets in trouble with the cops.

Just Mark Grayson who likes to read Seance dog and learned how to sew so he can cosplay his favorite character.

So when he accidentally insult you, he knew he fucked up

You had invite him over to your place, its the first time his been inside your house. And Mark was trying his best to hid how nervous he actually was

He lowkey regrets not doing any romance routes in his games. Maybe it would better prepare him for these stage

Maybe you picked up on his nerves because low and behold you set up a game console for the two of you.

How did he get so lucky?

He toke his respective seat ready to play the game you set up. Mark already decided he would go easy on you on the first round

When the game boot up and the title screen appeared. It toke a minute for Mark to register the name. Mario Kart

"What's so funny?" You ask carrying a bowl of popcorn catching the tail end of Mark's snicker.

"I'm sorry Babe, its just-" Mark bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing again as he reach for the popcorn bowl "I think you bought the wrong game"

You stilled for a moment processing what he said "What do you mean?"

"Its a racing game, you nailed that part sweetheart but it's for kids"

You didn't say anything

"It's okay" He paused to munch on the popcorn "We've all been deceived by good cover art "

You watch Mark pop more popcorn in his mouth

"We can exchange it for a real game so you didn't waste your money, or if you like I'll find a way to get your money back babe"

".. Mark" You spoke softly drawing his attention immediately "I didn't buy these game for you"

He blinked "What?"

"I owned these game for a while now, i played a version of it when i was a kid. And when i saw they're releasing a new version, i got it for myself"

Oh "Oh" Mark looked between you and the tv screen

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"I don't understand, how can you like these?" Mark ask waving his hand towards the screen like it has personal offended him "I understand liking it as a kid but how can you still like it now, is it the nostalgia?"

You toke in a deep breath before responding "I had fun playing it by myself and with friends. You like racing games so i thought we could have fun playing it together"

Mark remembers when he introduced you to one of his favourite anime, you haven't watched the show before and despite it not being in your genre. You watched it with him and listen to him gush about it.

And here he was interrogating you on why you like Mario Kart when you set it up as a cute co-op gaming date with your boyfriend.

"Its fine" You sigh snapping Mark back into the present "We can just watch a movie or something"

Before you can take away the controllers Mark stopped you "Y/n- baby wait" grasping your hand Mark inhaled looking up at you with his sad puppy dog eyes "I'm sorry, i shouldn't have said that too you. I meant not like these game but i shouldn't be an ass about you liking it"

Your expression soften as you hear out Mark's apology, due you didn't respond right away. Letting him sweat for a moment before ultimately bringing him into a hug "Apology accepted". Mark sighed sagging in relief as he returned the hug tenfold, nuzzling his face into your neck before separating.

"Do you still want to play?" Mark asked holding up the controller

"Mark we don't need to play Mario Kart if you don't like it" You replied not wanting Mark to feel pressured into playing it with you

"I know but you like it. And if it's something you enjoy playing then I'm happy to play it with you" Mark replied blushing at how sappy he sounds, but it was no less true.

And that was how Mark mange to salvage the date, only to lose the battle that was Mario Kart.

It seemed simple enough, cross the finish line. Something Mark is familiar with

What Mark didn't account for was how brutal you were with the turtle shell

Mark can figure out the best route of the race course but it was the power ups that got to him

He wasn't familer with them and even when you explained what each were he was still getting use to them

Meanwhile you were incredible experience in the game and it shows

Mark used the squid to ink up your side of the screen, limiting your vision in hopes of catching up

But you were still able to navigate through the course from the small clean gap the power up didn't cover

Which Mark is impressed by and finds attractive as hell

"I can't believe i lost" Mark stares in disbelief at the screen as you cross the finish like first

"Well that's not true you came in second place, that's a good first try" You point out patting him on the back

"Yeah but I'm usually come first" He muttered with a pout "I swear I'm usually good at these"

"Hmm i don't know" You hummed thoughtfully "Sounds like an excuse to cover up your skill issue"

"You did not just say that" Mark gasp

"Oh but i did, what are you gonna do about it Bowser?" You smirked raising your controller

"Oh now it's on!" Mark grinned in return starting round 2

Mark ended up winning that round and both of you ended up having a competition too see who can get the much wins

Mark knew some of the characters, like Peach, Mario and Luigi. But he was surprise there was more then one Mario and Luigi who apparently called Wario and Waluigi

You start to explain the characters history as the two of you played, even going into the other Mario games.

"I'm not sure if they kept these in the new release but in the original Mario and the thousand year door. The robot who was Princess Peach jailer fell in love with her when he watch her take a shower"

".. What?"

"And in another section she had to take off her clothes when she turned invisible to sneak around the castle she's in"

"What!?"

"Yeah it happened"

"Why- wait no go back, rewind. Tell me more about what happened with these perv robot"

By the end of the night not only did Mark have fun playing Mario Kart but he also takes back the Mario franchise being a game only for kids

[yandere-sins]

Leona is smart but he hasn't realized something AHAHA

If his duchess aka darling were to give birth, that child of his WILL be held to the same standards as their mom. Perhaps even higher; if their mother is a nobody who ends up as a duchess loved by the people and the royal family, the child who is of royal blood SHOULD be as good or better than their mother.

Which means that in the long run, Leona will have less time to spend with his duchess because everyone encourages the duchess to be heavily involved in her kid's education. As you said, the royal family nags Leona and praises his darling, so ofc the royal family encourages mommy-kid bonding time so that the child will take after her.

Ah, imagine being second-place to his brother, second-place as a father because your kid spends a lot of time with your wife and not you, and second-place in the hearts of the people.

Oh man, the last section really made my heart ache for my poor baby ;; Leona, you'll always be my number one!!!

That aside, you have a good point there! The child definitely has to live up to their title, but also probably not as strictly as the first-born of the reigning monarch. That's at least Leona's excuse as he takes his child out of the busy schedule despite protests (because, well, he's still the highest ranking in his own family, so no one can really go against him) and takes them on a daddy-kid date! Who can begrudge him for being a good father? No one!

Quite the contrary! If he takes the child out of the palace and shows them around by his side, people will actually start approving of him more, as it shows good character to be a good, involved father. They'd even praise him, and if he does it regularly, the kid is a great way to improve his standing with the people! Sure, his reputation won't be flawless, but at least people add, "But he is a good father," to it now.

It's a lot of work, but imagine how good the reception will be once he manages to unite all three—father, mother, child—in certain events, showing up and always carrying his kid around or feeding it despite having sitters and nannies for that! Now everyone sees, is a happy little family, united by a child and deeply in love in the public's eye. People are already speculating about baby number two by the way Leona holds his darling in public, rubbing their belly and whispering into their ear that he got it all under control.

The one thing the public loves more than a dedicated noble is a noble family, after all. And it'll bring them all together again, which is just the cherry on top (;

Bold of you to assume Rook wouldn't snap and try to hunt a lion.

That is interesting!

I can't help but think about how big the betrayal would be that not only Leona's darling wants to escape, but they seek the help of some former, annoying classmate! You could have just tried on your own or continued to try and turn everyone against Leona, but you chose to seek out the one annoying person that you shouldn't have. There are a lot of things Leona can forgive, but Rook helping his love run away is not one of them.

You can be happy if he doesn't kill Rook right in front of your eyes (nearly impossible anyway). Still, if Rook gets caught (he won't), Leona will make sure that he gets locked up for something as bad as attempted regicide, at least! All while you are kept locked up, chained to the bed, with doctors saying it is "necessary" for your "recovery". To the public, Leona will make it look like you were kidnapped and almost died as a consequence. People will be outraged, demanding justice! You are their beloved duchess that would never betray them, right?

This way, he has enough time to punish you for what happened. No one will ask if he leaves bruises and wounds on you, as he can simply explain it as the remnants of your kidnapping. It also allows him to spend time with you undisturbed, as your caring husband simply helps you with your recovery during this difficult time and asks for everyone's understanding that you need this to feel better. The people love you, after all, they'd want him to be with you and fulfill his vows to you.

However, behind closed doors, you'll not be spared all his anger and frustrations. All the things you've been refusing to do with him by avoiding him like the pest. He'll have someone come to implant a tracking device in you so you can never do something as foolish as this again, all while Leona mocks you for your failure and for relying on someone like Rook to help you. Luckily, you can make it up to him—if you suffer as much as you made him suffer with your stupid idea of fleeing.

Still, he stays awake and alert by your side at night. Always making sure no one comes back for you, while also imagining the ways Rook probably touched you to help you over barriers, tracing the spots he suspects the hunter's hands were on you with his hands and lips and even biting them to reclaim them. Leona can't get over the frustration of knowing you were by another man's side, blaming himself for every minute he didn't notice you were gone.

But don't worry. It's a mistake he learned never to repeat, too.

[cea-tide]

I found the thread: r/Drugs Post (original reddit.com frontend)

Post itself was deleted, along with some comments. You may try to view them with Reveddit or undelete.pushpull.io (under maintenance until end of June).

Image descriptions for all images in this thread under the cut.

[Image ID 1: Reddit post on r/drugscirclejerk by u/700SevenHundred700 titled "What drug has zero consequences?" that reads: "What drug can I do every day, feels very euphoric, no tolerance, I can look normal on, not addictive, isn't neurotoxic, is legal, cheap, and a cheat code to life?

Surely there is a a drug that meets those criteria and also overlooked by everyone. Reddit, do your thing." A reply to this post by u/225mgs reads: "Strawberry" /END ID]

[Image ID 2: Tumblr tags that read: "#estrogen! #←prev #reminds kitty of that one Reddit post that was like #“im not trans i just really like the high i get when i take estrogen” #and people were like “what high? estrogen doesn't give you a high” #surprise suprise #the “high” she was talking about was gender dysphoria" /END ID]

[Image ID 3: The aforementioned reddit post on r/Drugs titled "Estrogen as a recreational drug" that reads "Is this something you can do? I say recreational as in for fun and not for transitioning etc. For some reason taking estrogen makes me feel soooooooo good.

Does anyone take estrogen recreationally? What effects do you notice? And any good combos with it?" /END ID] [Image ID 4: Part of the comments under above thread. By u/[deleted] on Oct 26 '22: "You can really fuck up your hormones doing that" Reply to first comment by u/3nderslime on Oct 27 '22: "I have a feeling that's what OP is experiencing that makes them feel good" Reply to first comment by u/CynthiaCyan on Oct 27 '22: "Fuck up how?" The following comments are a chain of replies under the above comment. By u/[deleted] on Oct 27 '22: "Are you brainless ?" By u/CynthiaCyan on Oct 27 '22: "No? I'm just curious what you mean" By u/[deleted] on Oct 28 '22: "If they are a male it can literally promote breast tissue growth aka gyno, it can lead to Erectile dysfunction, mood swings and stuff up your hormonal balance. You can potentially damage your sperm count and even become infertile. This is fine if they are transitioning or something but if they plan on staying a cis male they may really cause some harm. I’m not sure if op is a guy and wouldn’t have a clue what it would do to a female" By u/CynthiaCyan on Oct 28 '22: "wtf that sounds based" /END ID]

[Image ID 5: Part of the comments under above thread.

By u/ReceptionGold9087 on Oct 26 '22: "If your estrogen levels are too high you will get gyno/tits" Deleted reply on Oct 26 '22. Two replies to above deleted comment. Reply by u/[deleted] on Oct 26 '22: "You sure you’re not trans? Lol" Reply by u/[deleted] on Oct 26 '22: "hmm......" /END ID]

[Image ID 6: Part of the comments under above thread. They are all separate replies.

By u/RoyaltyInTraining on Oct 27 '22: "Let me tell you something crazy: Humans are supposed to feel good by default. When something is wrong with your body and you get sudden relief from it, it can feel like a wave of euphoria. Estrogen doesn't have any proven psychoactive effects, it just switches your brain into girl mode."

By u/BubblyInstanceNo1 on Oct 27 '22: "Hun, no cis dude does estrogen for fun. They don’t feel good on it. They feel terrible. This has actually been reported several times by people who have to take it for reasons other than transitioning.

You know who feels great on it? Trans girls."

By u/Sage_Morrison on Oct 27 '22: "Has she figured it out yet?"

By u/blueskin on Oct 27 '22: "/r/egg_irl"

By u/Eternal_Density on Oct 28 '22: "Have you tried wearing a skirt and spinning? This may heighten the euphoria. Make sure the area around you is clear of obstacles, people, and pets.

Also, if you have access to IKEA, look for something called 'Blåhaj'. Its cuddliness and nonjudgemental nature have been reported to be very soothing." /END ID]

[encherries]

NISHIMURA RIKI AS YOUR BEST FRIEND HCS.

riki x gn!reader — no warnings, this is mostly fluff ! slightly suggestive at the end but no actual smut. still i would say mdni as i’d rather not have minors around my page at all.

also if some of this sounds familiar, i wrote something similar on my old blog for a different group and revamped it for enha. reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♡

best friend!riki who looks intimidating on first glance, but in actuality is the most caring and sweet person you know

best friend!riki who you first met in your freshman year of college when you got paired up for a project together

best friend!riki who was shy at first but seemed to come out of his shell whenever you were around

best friend!riki who quickly became your best friend and the person you trust the most

best friend!riki who is playful and funny and likes to childishly annoy you on purpose by poking your sides or stealing your phone, holding it above his head as he makes fun of how much shorter you are while you fight to get the device back from his grip

best friend!riki who somehow hit puberty twice and became unfairly hot and attractive now that you’re in senior year

best friend!riki who everyone has a crush on, girls and guys and you

best friend!riki who has dated a lot of people but his relationships never last, earning him a bit of a playboy title

best friend!riki who you wish would just pay attention romantically to you for once, but you settle for being his best friend. the thought of losing him completely if you ever confess your feelings too horrible for you to bear

best friend!riki who recently has gotten touchier with you, resting an arm around your shoulders or on the back of your chair, or absentmindedly playing with your fingers when you’re studying together. you always feel your cheeks burning and butterflies dancing in your stomach, and you desperately hope he doesn’t notice

best friend!riki who invites you over to his place to watch your favorite tv show together, looking perfect even though he’s just wearing sweatpants and some old t shirt

best friend!riki who insists upon laying in the same bed together, just cozy together as friends, a respectable space between the two of you

best friend!riki who you somehow end up moving closer and closer with, until you’re resting your head on his shoulder and his arm naturally finds it’s way around your waist like it belongs there

best friend!riki who keeps his focus on the tv as he starts trailing little patterns with his fingertips on your waist. over the fabric of your hoodie at first until he pushes it up slightly, leaving a strip of exposed skin

best friend!riki who has you feeling sparks and goosebumps as he continues his actions, just lightly feeling your skin under his hand

best friend!riki who finally shifts his attention to you as you say his name, your voice questioning

best friend!riki who is suddenly so close as you get lost in the eye contact when you both stare at each other, and you don’t exactly know who moves in first but now you’re kissing

best friend!riki who is slow and delicate as he moves his lips against yours, swallowing your little gasp when he licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss

best friend!riki who pulls away eventually for breath, and still looks absolutely perfect even though his hair is messed up from the way you ran your hands though it. his lips are slightly swollen from kissing you, and there’s a cute redness high up on his cheeks

best friend!riki who leans in close again, with his arms around your waist pressing your body against his. he doesn’t kiss you again just yet, instead keeps voice low as he finally whispers against your lips, “please be my girlfriend?”

boyfriend!riki who doesn’t actually change all that much even when your relationship status does, besides the fact he now gets to kiss you and be with you whenever he wants

[saebyeokbliss]

SOMEONE TO CALL MINE ꩜ .ᐟ — KANG SAE-BYEOK

paring: dealer!kang sae-byeon x fem!art student!reader

warnings: crack, suggestive themes, language, enemies to lovers (kinda), fake dating, exes, sapphic yearning

A college SMAU involving…

Kang Sae-byeok is known around campus as the number one dealer at The Pit (house holding SNU’s biggest frat parties). Following that title is a woman who also has had almost every girl at her knees with one stare; however, she manages to lock down beauty of the school, Lee Yuna. But when she finds out her girlfriend cheats on her with a.. man? She will not be made a fool.

MEET THE COVEN…

YOU

Full scholarship, multiple art awards, ambitious and creative, you’ve worked hard to end up where you are at SNU. It’s paying off. But what happens when your sophomore year is interrupted by a distraction that you don’t seem to mind?

KIM JI-YEONG

Music major. Sae-byeok’s sidekick. The wingwoman, the best friend— somehow— despite the pair being total opposites. Forced roommates, friends by chance. Ji-yeong is bubbly and full of humor, never failing to make anyone laugh around her. She too is a ladies woman and knows her way around a party. Because she is the party. And The Coven would be nothing without her.

KANG SAE-BYEOK

Sae-byeok is a force of her own. Majoring in business, she knows how to take control of a room with one stare. No one around campus dare question anything she does and there’s always a mysterious and alluring aura to her presence. You’re constantly left wondering why she does what she does. Everyone at SNU knows her name, even if they’ve never spoken to her. She’s the go-to for party favors, the subject of every sapphic crush, and the reason dorm room windows fog up on Friday nights. But behind the sharp eyes and leather jackets is someone who truly means well.

KANG NO-EUL

Not as popular as her sister but not unknown, No-eul lives a calm life. She’s actually known you for quite some time. You’ve been friends since senior year of highschool and she has been by your side. It’s crazy that you’ve never managed to get close to her sister. Regardless, No-eul is also cold-like but caring in her own way. She’ll bring your greek yogurt on nights you stay up late for exams and coffee when you need it. She only ever contributes to The Coven when she feels like it, and if her sister needs help.

HAN SE-MI

Like Ji-yeong, she too is the life of the party. Just in a more chill, drunk aunt kind of way. She buys off Sae and has been a loyal customer since high school. With open arms, she was welcomed into the little circle of friends that is The Coven. She fits in perfectly and doesn’t mind sharing a smoke or two with a person she believes needs it. Her passion for being a lawyer also feeds her confidence and ego here and there, her grades being something she’s proud of.

THANOS (CHOI SU-BONG)

Pursuing music, THANOS is mainly full of shit. He’s around for Se-mi and Ji-yeong to get a good laugh about but he can rap and spit bars like no one’s business. He’s definitely best DJ at The Pit and goofiest person in The Coven. He’s also high. All. The. Time. He and Sae-byeok also partner here and there with deals.

HUH YUNJIN (OCCASIONALLY JENNIFER)

An absolute angel, your best friend (besides No-eul) who is your number one ride or die. She’d literally end the world if you asked her to and her vocals are killer. She is always kind and supportive and also a big goofball, but amazing with words and there if you need advice. She joined The Coven through Sakura and became friends quickly with everyone despite her seeming soft.

SAKURA MIYAWAKI

Well-known streamer and gamer around campus. Her technology skills come in handy for marketing and that’s how she was able to join The Coven by meeting Sae-byeok in their shared class. She hangs out with her other friends, Kazuha and Chaewon, most of the time, but she loves to drink mojitos with Ji-yeong and Se-mi when she isn’t with them! She’s incredibly sweet and surprisingly hilarious.

YU JIMIN (OCCASIONALLY KARINA)

Jimin (or Karina) is like the unofficial mother of The Coven. She rarely gets into trouble, even if she’s playful, and keeps the girls (and sometimes THANOS) out of trouble. She is a big jokester, but if you mess with her friends or need to bury a body, she’s there.

NING YIZHUO (OCCASIONALLY NINGING)

The maknae. Everyone babies Ningx2 for being the youngest of The Coven and she hates it. She might be 17 and a freshman in college, but she’s a force. Incredibly sweet and kind, but a troublemaker when she’s in the mood.

AERI UCHINAGA (OCCASIONALLY GISELLE)

Also one of your best friends alongside Yunjin and No-eul, Aeri helped a lot with your math studies and econ classes. She’s also a big teaser and loves messing with you. But if you truly need a shoulder to ugly cry on and pour your heart out to, her and Yunjin are there with tissues and broken humor.

LEE YUNA

The girl that gets you meet Sae-byeok. Seemingly kind and gorgeous, but looks are always deceiving.Conniving. Cunning. Manipulative. Not much is need to be said about Lee Yuna other than her parents run a successful skincare business in Korea, so she isn’t leaving her trust fund scholarship at SNU anytime soon.

MASTERLIST

01. the enigma 02. one, two, three, queen of the scene

a/n: so exited to get to writing this! this will be my first SMAU fic and i feel it will definitely be a rollercoaster of emotions.

REMINDER THAT ANY REAL PEOPLE IN THIS FIC— THEIR BEHAVIOR IS NOT REFLECTIONS OF THEIR TRUE ACTIONS AND REPRESENTATION— PURE FICTION

[happyk44]

[ID: 1. Screenshot of a Wikipedia article titled “Cassandra Complex (disambiguation)” that reads, “The Cassandra complex is a psychological phenomenon in which an individual’s accurate prediction of a crisis is ignored or dismissed.”

2. Tweet from nn. @/eternaldroplets: “do not borrow grief from the future” but what if I can already see the headlights? I can hear the humming. I cannot ignore it. You will be gone. I will lose you. That is a certainty that has awaited me. I am nowhere near ready.

3. Tumblr post from @/soracities: maybe a lot of life really is just figuring out who you’d sit and do the dishes with even while the world ends

4. Tumblr post from @/inloveforevr: Even when the world feels like it’s ending, there are good friends. There are always good friends.

5. Painting. Two people’s hands are shown peeling an orange. One hand is dark-skinned and covered in light scars. The other hand is light-skinned. The painting is attached to a tumblr post from @/bagginshield, which reads, “fruit (affectionate)”.

6. Tumblr from @/judas-redeemed: been thinking a lot about anticipatory grief lately. I love you so much that I know losing you will devastate me. I haven’t lost you yet but I already miss you. We still have time, but it won’t be enough. I think about what I would say at your funeral, and say some of it to you now cause I need you to know how loved you are before you go. You will go where I cannot follow, but you will never really leave me. it won’t make it hurt less but it is a part of healing somehow.

7. Tumblr post from @/inanotheruniverse: In another universe we had five more minutes

8. Tumblr post from @/cemeterything: A prophecy is a type of echo which originates from the future instead of the past. [1]

9. Text reading: got worse and every part of me hurt for months. [highlight] I couldn’t believe it. I feared becoming sick again for so long, the actual event was almost anticlimactic.

Fear never produces itself on its own. [end highlight] A young, sick child, I’d linger in the horror aisles at the local Blockbuster, picking up cassette after cassette. I was

10. Highlighted text reading: I know how this story ends; I think about it a lot. /end ID]

Sources: 1. Wikipedia; 2. @/eternaldroplets on Twitter; 3. @/soracities; 4. @/inloveforevr; 5. @/bagginshield; 6. @/judas-redeemed; 7. @/inanotheruniverse; 8. @/cemeterything; 9. The Girl, The Well, The Ring by Zefyr Lisowski; 10. Story of Your Life by Ted Chian

The Cassandra Complex- webweave (a story on grief and the end of the world)

[crispys-records]

john walker's helmet-to-beret uniform change: a uniform analysis by a guy who frankly knows very little about marvel

as a reference, i never really read any of the marvel comics as a kid depicting john walker as either captain america or u.s. agent. i did NOT watch falcon and the winter soldier until after i watched thunderbolts which may or may not be an insane watch order. but the little things i do know give me the tiniest bit of confidence to make this analysis, because its got very little to do with him as a character and more in the way he is portrayed to other people.

still, im a little out of my league here, so if this is total bullshit, common knowledge, or both, you can... call me mean things in my ask box i guess

lets start with his first, captain america-esque uniform.

when you look at steve rogers, the star is in the center of his chest, and he has both red and white stripes vertically on his stomach. although with a little more embelishments, sam wilson has the same kind of set up, sort of hammering home the fact that he's following in steve's footsteps and carrying his legacy. on the other hand, john walker's initial uniform has the star on the right side of his uniform and there are only red stripes horizontally across his chest.

comparing the "real captain america" uniform to the john walker one, there are some pretty easy patterns i can connect here. for starters, the fact that the uniforms are different brings to mind john's hopes about being captain america--that he isnt there to be another steve rogers. he wants to be his own captain america, so obviously, he would have a different uniform. also, the fact that john walker, steve rogers, and sam wilson are very different people can also be seen in that.

going a bit deeper, let's look at the designs themselves. steve's, and sam's, uniform is more symmetrical, more controlled and neat. it shows a more level-headed approach to the title of captain america, and represents steve's nature. on the other hand, john's uniform is skewed to one side. when he faces the camera, the star is on the left, which is where your heart is. john is more emotional, less controlled and calm than steve rogers was. he loses himself to rage and emotion. and then he kills someone in front of the public, and now the blood that he spilled will be a part of his image forever. theres no white on his uniform to stain. theres only red stripes.

now, i didn't even realize this until i started watching falcon and the winter solider, but his uniform actually changes at the end of the series going into thunderbolts. he has white stripes now. and oh my god, am i going to unpack that.

the fact that there are now white stripes shows a change in character. john goes through this character arc in the show which kind of goes to shit in thunderbolts but thats just him getting the ghostbusters "every movie has to start with them at rock bottom even if things start looking fine at the end of the last movie" treatment. i think john, as he steps away from the mantle of captain america, starts allowing himself to be hateful. while before, it was more of a struggle to be "righteous", to be the government's golden boy. so imagine that now, hes not the governments perfect soldier anymore. hes a disillusioned mercenary, down on his luck and coming out of a post-captain america spiral, and obviously hes letting whatever kind of resentment he had boiling during fatws dictate him. it cements him as a human character, like steve. he's strong and hes righteous and hes just. hes also miserable and angry and an asshole.

also, notice how in the dark, the only thing you can see is the white stripes? how the red, which was brighter in his first uniform, is obscured in the dark? im cornplating, sorry

and finally, the thunderbolts after credits scene uniform which i had to scour many a john walker fan account and fan blog for (ty guys i love you all).

it hasn't really changed much, apart from the lack of a star (replaced by an A) which i think could signify his full seperation from the us government. theres no longer a part of him that glorifies it, not after valentina tried to kill them more than once. like yelena threatened when val announced the Avengers: they own the government now. he doesnt have to worry about being that perfect government pawn, although he probably still will worry about being perfect human, because all he has to do is say "no, i wont fight this country ending disaster for you" and the government is toast.

also, the helmets, which i just thought was so cool to think about.

in the beginning, his helmet is pretty much a near one-to-one replica of steve roger's helmet. its smooth, its hard. it covers up his face, shows the bare minimum facial structures: two eyes, a nose, a mouth. it shows only what people want to see, the A on the front, for America. this is not john walker. this is Captain America, a hero for the people. a hero meant to replace the one that they lost.

as u.s. agent, his helmet is still the smooth, undefining helmet, but its lost the A. because like valentina says, they don't need a captain america anymore. she just needs a soldier who can do the dirty work for her. it obscures the wearer, and takes away the definition, leaving just a nameless figure. because u.s. agent isn't meant to be a public hero, just a soldier.

for a majority of thunderbolts, john walker doesnt wear his helmet. the helmet was originally something to hide behind, but he's not hiding behind anything througout the movie, and it shows. his divorce, his spiral, its all out in the open for bob and the rest of the team to disect. hes not trying to pretend to be nice, he's bitter and miserable.

and then, in the post-credits scene, he's wearing that stupid little beret which is so cute. im giggling just thinking about it. the symbolism is kind of obvious here. val or john, or both, decided that they're done trying to hide john's true persona from the public. his whole thing is that hes not captain america, hes a shitty, grittier, worse thing. so instead of hiding his face, they leave it out in the open, but they dress it up a little so that he doesnt look like a total deplorable freak to the citizens of the us. its all a little pr.

for all the hate that the beret gets, i do kind of like how it ties up john's character arc.

if youve made it to the end of what is kind of a really impromptu essay then thank you... im very unlikely to write thinkpieces like this again until we get more new avengers content or until i watch something about one of the characters that makes me think, like Black Widow or rewatching Antman and the Wasp. anyways thanks for reading

[11queensupreme11]

OKAY MORE PROFILES FOR SOME PERCY BABIES!

saorlaith (pronounced SEER-LAH), the second-born sécy baby and their first-born daughter!!!!

okay, i've said this before, but she is a goddess of wisdom, has curly blonde hair, AND grey eyes all like a certain someone (anthonius! the only thing missing is the tanned skin lmao). this fact drives cú chulainn absolutely fucking CRAZY, but despite this, saorlaith is actually the one child that doesn't actually stress him out lmao

why? BECAUSE SHE NEVER WANTS TO LEAVE THE PALACE 😂😂😂😂😂

she is extremely introverted and refuses to step foot outside and touch grass. all she wants to do is stay home and read books all day. and cú chulainn, being the good daddy he is, had a gigantic ass library built for her with all kinds of books from valhalla, helheim, and midgard.

girly hardly even interacts with her family lol. not because she hates them, she just prefers being alone. you'd have to drag her out of the library tho and when she's forced out, she's noticeably very annoyed and standoffish with people. perfectly fine with interacting with her family, but rolls her eyes at having to interact with other ppl because that usually involves her having to leave the house 😭

obviously, she's very quite and studious. the most she's ever talked is with her family, with others the most you're likely gonna get from her is a disinterested hum and a bored sigh 💀

cú chulainn is so relieved. he doesn't have to worry about her trying to leave the safety of the palace nor does he need to worry about her talking to strangers 🥺

now here's barekith! god of voracity (got it from hsr lol) and a beelcy baby!

just like the title implies, he's a big eater like his daddy 🥺 a gluttonous lil boy 🥺

and because of his BIG appetite, he has the tendency to travel throughout the cosmos... and eat planets 💀 no seriously, he eats planets. he took a chomp out of jupiter and swallowed several of its moons like europa, io, and ganymede (sorry pjo!jupiter i guess he doesn't like you lol)

it absolutely baffled nasa when they saw it and humans started going crazy with conspiracy theories and "end of the world/doomsday" insanity so percy had to ask him to travel to another exoplanetary system that had zero civilizations in any of the planets to avoid causing a similar mayhem 😭

barekith didn't get WHY he had to do it, but his mommy asked so he obeyed 💖 btw, just as a reminder gods can't even GET hungry so barekith is literally just doing this for the love of the game 😭😭😭😭

FIRST BORN ANUBY DAUGHTER, ANKHSETI!!!!

i have no domains for her yet, but her sacred animal is the falcon (hence why she kinda looks like a falcon-ish). her name also means "living arrow" and just like it implies, she's currently the fastest goddess in the egyptian pantheon! (anubis was so proud of her that he had a trophy made 🥺 proud papa)

while ankhseti's parents are pretty carefree (her daddy especially), she is the stark opposite. she's very strict, no-nonsense, silent, and serious--basically a less aggressive and arrogant version of her great great great grandpa ra 😂

cunning, sharp-witted, powerful, and strong, she's definitely on her way to becoming a supreme deity. but she's not quite there yet; she's still far too young and far too inexperienced, but she's very determined to make it!

she takes her role as the first-born anuby daughter very seriously even though neither percy nor anubis have any demands from her. no, these are just something that she set for herself lol. she's extremely hard working, a perfectionist, wanting to make her pantheon and family proud. she is absolutely a favorite great great great grandchild of ra for that because FINALLY at least there's SOMEONE in his dumb ass bloodline with some common sense 🙄 his favoritism towards her actually has him contemplating granting her the title of a supreme god, but he knows it's far too soon and she's not ready yet

however, despite how harsh she is on herself, she is still very loving towards her family! she puts pressure on herself, but never on her younger siblings. she wants them to live freely with zero responsibilities because she can handle it all (even tho again, anuby is perfectly fine with her just chilling 😭)

iriya! the second-born anuby baby! i also still have no domains for her yet 💀

you know those teenagers that are going through that "rebellious phase" where they roll their eyes, cringe, and scowl at things that their families do??? yeah that's iriya 💀 she's ESPECIALLY like this with her annoying, loud, overly affectionate dad 😭💔

she loves her family, she really does, but OH MY GOD ARE THEY KILLING HER. can't she just move out already?! her mom's been trying to convince her dad to just let her leave for eeeooooons already but the man won't stop throwing temper tantrums over it!!!! NO dad, she doesn't wanna live here forever, now stop embarrassing her already!

her dad keeps embarrassing her out in public, nebamon keeps breaking into her room to steal all her jewelry, kebi keeps demanding she play dolls with her, her mom keeps telling her to be nice to everyone, nesutefet gave her a disease AGAIN, ra-el won't stop screaming the house down, THIS ENTIRE FAMILY IS DRIVING HER CRAZY, SHE WANTS OUT ALREADY 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

poor girl is THIS 🤏 close to ripping her own hair out.

now this is hatshemi, the third anuby baby and similarly to kebi, is also a snake goddess!!! but while kebi prefers to have a slightly more humanoid form with just a few snake features, hatshemi's entire lower body is that of a giant snake lol

(also she's 8'10" btw hehe, very big lady with eight pack abs hehehehe)

this is the loud, boisterous, fun-loving big sister that everyone adores. she just always seems to know what to do to help her family 💖 she's the one who gets ankhseti to slow down and relax herself when the stress is getting too much for her. the one who plays with kebi. the one who takes iriya out when the rest of the family's pissing her off. the one who calms ra-el down. the one who convinces nebamon to return all the shit he stole (LMAO), etc etc.

she's the extremely dependable sister that everyone goes to when they need her help. but don't mistake her loving nature for weakness, she is EXTREMELY protective of her family just like a snake with it's space.

she's one of the anuby kids who inherited percy's cannibalistic tendencies where consuming godly flesh and ichor heals her and tastes like her favorite foods, so she has no issues with EATING any god that comes to harm her family, and she'll do it with the sweetest smile ever 💖 anything for her family after all 💖💖💖💖

[sunandflame]

Alber "King" MODERN AU: Government Experiment Survivor | Underground Fighter

Alber, who was taken from an orphanage at just 3 years old, labeled "unclaimed" and selected for a government experiment that erased his identity before it ever formed.

Alber, whose childhood was replaced with laboratories and locked rooms, trained like a weapon and shaped through years of genetic editing and violent physical conditioning.

Alber, whose body was designed to endure what others could not — with muscle density beyond normal, reinforced bones, suppressed empathy, and a nervous system that learned to silence pain before it could reach his brain.

Alber, the most successful prototype they ever created — silent, obedient, inhumanly resilient — until he disappeared at 17 during a transport blackout, killing two handlers and vanishing into smoke and silence.

Alber, who no longer existed in any system, who gave himself a new name — King — not as a title, but as a shield. A way to hide in plain sight while the government still hunted ghosts.

King, who stands at 2 meters tall — that’s 6 feet 7 inches of broad, quiet mass. A man built like a fortress, with a presence that fills any room he walks into, even when he says nothing at all.

King, who fights in illegal underground circuits, cash-only, off-grid, nameless — known only by bruised mouths and broken ribs.

King, whose reputation carries further than his voice ever has: undefeated, silent, merciless. A myth in the flesh. Rumors say he doesn’t feel pain. No one knows where he goes after the match ends.

King, who moves like he’s still being watched. Who fights with brutal efficiency — a fusion of military kill-strikes and raw street brawling. There is no waste in his motion, only intent.

King, whose back is carved with a massive black wings tattoo — spanning shoulder to hip, inked with precision and grief. A monument to what he was supposed to be, and what they tried to take.

King, who lives above a junkyard in an abandoned apartment, walls stained with oil and silence. A mattress on the floor. Taped-over mirrors. A punching bag swinging like a pendulum in a room that never changes.

King, who eats the same meals. Who trains every morning. Who fixes bikes and cars for cash and does side security at a bar where no one makes eye contact.

King, who doesn’t let anyone close. Who doesn’t speak unless it matters. Who makes every word feel like a loaded gun.

King, whose body is all survival but whose soul still flickers behind burned-out eyes. Who isn’t cruel — just disconnected. Emotionally shut down, because nothing inside him was ever allowed to grow.

King, who watches the door even when it’s locked. Who never sleeps through the night. Who wakes up mid-fight, fists clenched, breath caught in a memory that doesn’t belong to this world.

King, who carries phantom pain and names he doesn’t say out loud. Who remembers the screaming, the silence, the training rooms painted red.

You, who didn’t flinch when he walked in bloodied and silent. Who didn’t ask for explanations. Who didn’t treat him like a threat — or a myth.

You, who spoke to him gently. Who handed him a clean towel. Who called him by name like it wasn’t something stolen.

You, who kept showing up. Who never pried, never demanded. Who looked at him like he was human, not haunted.

He never thought he could want. Not anything real. Not softness. Not warmth. Not you.

He doesn’t know how to touch gently, but he learns. Slowly. With still hands and shallow breath. He learns to stay when everything in him says run.

He tries to keep you away. Puts up walls that don’t speak, closes doors that never truly lock. You find your way in anyway. And that’s what terrifies him most — not that you’ll leave. But that you’ll stay. And someone will find you. And someone will hurt you. And it will be because of him.

[casscainmainly]

his hand on her head as they give her the routine treatment she lets out a “you remind me of him” she’s already passed out and he’s just silent

they’re so evil and disturbed and you’re right about how they are both a bit blind to how much cass actually “loves” cain

a bit blind is a stretch for bruce tbh he doesn’t even really have a clue while it’s something cass has struggled with at

MMHMMM YEAHHH the hand on her head thing is soooo wicked and evil because it's such a recurring thing (see THIS POST by @batboopp if you want to shred your heart to pieces). I do wonder how much Bruce knew about Cass' feelings? He was super in denial about her all the time, but the true tragedy of Bruce-Cass to me is that he did know how much she loves Cain.

Thinking about the myriad ways Bruce had of separating Cass from Cain, not for her sake entirely but also for his.

Batgirl (2000) #22 // #33

In both these issues, Bruce tries his hardest to keep Cass from her father, and I think part of that is because he knows that she does love him. "You feel responsible for him. Don't." <- Part of what makes this line so interesting is that Bruce is right, Cass shouldn't feel responsible for him, but he follows it up with "Do what I trained you to do." Bruce fears Cass' loyalty to David will interfere with her loyalty to him. And that loyalty has always been mixed up in their love for each other, so in a lot of ways Bruce is reacting against Cass' love for David, which he is aware of (even if he'll never admit it out loud).

In #33 too, the issue ends with Bruce proposing a new birthday for Cass (not the one David said) and giving her a gift and the title is revealed to be Father's Day. Like Bruce is clearly vying for Cass' affection, putting himself in opposition to David. He wouldn't do this unless he was afraid Cass loved David more than him.

And the thing he doesn't get is it's this possessive aspect that makes him like David. The more he tries to pit himself against David, the more his actions remind Cass of him. And this is so DELICIOUS ARIHEFUASH. It's why we have this astonishing moment from the end of #37, after Cass realises that David really was her bio dad:

C'MONNNN THIS MOMENT. This being like the second to last page Puckett wrote in BG 2000 drives me up the wall it's so good. The point of #37 is Cass realising that even though David was her dad, even though David did love her, it doesn't matter. He still hurt her. But we end with this Bruce-Cass moment, and Cass' angry expression and Bruce turning away in - sadness? Shame? Oh Damion Scott the artist you are. Inin the context of the issue it's basically saying that this lesson Cass learned with David is also one she learns with Bruce. It doesn't matter how much he loves her, he hurts her, too. And Bruce's expression is ripe for interpretation - does he also understand that? Is he sad about Cass' sadness, about David being her dad, or about what that means for the two of them?

Anyway YEAH I love your pitch so so so bad someone must write a fic about it. Bruce-David parallels foreverrr.

[ciucalata]

i caught a cold and i feel pathetic so since i also think jinu would be pathetic while sick, here’s how i think it would go:

he’d be all whiny and dramatic, acting as if it’s the end of the world (“Rumi, I leave the kids in your care. They’re a reminder of the love we shared while I was alive.”)

Rumi would roll her eyes and slap a cold compress on his forehead (“It’s just a cold, you fool. Also what kids? We’re not even married, yet.”)

but she’d also blow on his food while feeding him so that it’s not too hot (“I proposed to you, though!! And you said yes!! Unless I dreamed all that, in that case I’m sorry I didn’t get to propose before I left you with my kids.”)

the bird would act like it didn’t care, but he’d still cuddle beside Jinu’s hair (“You did propose and I did say yes,” Rumi sighs, but the look on her face is fond. It makes Jinu smile too. “Also what kids?”)

the tiger (despite this being a modern au, it remians an actual tiger cause i think it would be funnier like this lmao) would also whine a lot, flopped over Jinu’s body and crushing him despite the fact that Rumi keeps chasing it away (“Them!” Jinu points to the bird and tiger, who acknowledge him with a caw and a long whine. He puts his arms around tiger’s head and hugs it even closer to his face. “Kids, your mother has forsaken you! She doesn’t love you - us anymore!”)

despite all of them being annoying, Rumi finds all of this endearing and takes photos of the three of them like this (she has a folder of them titled “my two losers + a random bird”) (“I don’t remember adopting them,” she says which makes Jinu gasp. “Now stop being an idiot and go to sleep.” She takes the tiger and bird with her and all three of them start whining. She ignores them.)

Bonus: Jinu sends a selfie of him being pathetic on the Saja boys group chat. Mystery leaves him on read, Baby Saja sends him a 👍🏼, Romance would probably scold him bc he warned him he’d get sick and then tell him “i told you so” (idk he gives me that vibe) while Abby would also send a selfie of him being sick and pathetic (in the background you can see Romance looking at his phone and Mira looking at some medicine) “brooo we’re twinsies!!!”

Bonus bonus: Rumi sends the photo she took of Jinu with the “kids” on the Huntrix + Bobby gc. Bobby would send a get well soon and probably warns Rumi to also take care of herself, Mira would send a “idiot he deserves it” (one of her own idiots is sick too probably for the same reason) and Zoey would be like “noo poor jinu” then she’d start talking about their next song.

[businesstiramisu]

the tool gives me 37/156 but it's doing some math based on assumptions that aren't really representative of how I approach reading these. So instead breaking it down:

13 complete (none later than 2017 for me)

30 that I've given a good try reading. Some of these I don't want to pick back up eventually, but some of them I do

27 more that I recognized the title and have considered checking out. (maybe a quarter to a third of these newer than 2017)

That's still less than half of the list. I guess you could say i'm vaguely paying attention to this scene but not really reading much of it, especially in the past 8 years. I haven't even glanced at Seek or Claw yet, and those are both Wildbow!

what is is that makes these 'canonical?'

Makin/recordcrash (OP of the checklist and this tumblr post) has been the big name reviewer/reccer of webserials (well, ~gestures vaguely~ this kind of webserial) for years now. You can check out his reviews here and aggregated reviews on his Shills List. So, while I'm guessing the answer is just "Makin's personal opinion", his personal opinion carries more weight than most people's.

EDIT: oh yeah -- see the bottom of the page: "Data from RoyalRoad and multiple fiction sites, sorted on vibes, made by Makin"

Other misc observations:

I didn't hear about The Martian or John Dies at the End until they were traditionally published, so I kinda feel like I'm cheating by counting them...

really surprised to see muffinlance on here! I think of her mostly as an ATLA Tumblr BNF and had no idea this crowd knew about her. But Fox's Tongue and Kirin's Bone is OFic (not that Fanfic is entirely excluded: HPMOR, Bavitz's Pokemon fic, at least a couple more are on here) and I'm not surprised that some of these folks like her writing.

oh, i can copy the chart as an image! Why not:

I saw the website Anime Sedai on /a/ the other day. People were using it to share what seasonal anime they watched every year, half bragging, half tracking their own progress.

That gave me an idea. It’s open source, so I’ve made my own, webfic-themed version!

I’m curious how canonical my stats+vibes-based choices actually are, so let me know how your graph looks like—there’s a button at the bottom to export your lists.

Mine looks like this:

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 26 - Worth the Fight

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Dean about to take gold in the Yearning Olympics.

Chapter Title from Nettles by Ethel Cain

Word Count: 19.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean picks you and Adam up, and everyone makes some choices. Usual Warnings.

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

Chapter 25 - Chapter 27

Read on A03!

There are a lot of different types of fear, and Dean Winchester has felt most of them.

There’s the white-hot, fury-made fear he feels during hunts. That one is useful. It’s a fuel. He can brace his body and fly through the fight with ease, swinging and shooting and marching right to the other side. Just like Dad taught him. 

But then there’s the rotting fear, and that one is just annoying. It sort of festers in his throat, and then he can’t damn breathe out of nowhere, the fear having taken months to root with no clear way of how to get it out.

Sammy’s moping in the corner about unleashing the apocalypse, can’t figure out the right words to tell the kid it’s not his fault, and it’s electric under his skin that something horrible is going to happen. Bobby’s trapped in the wheelchair, and Dean isn’t a doctor, but one day that’s going to end in an empty chair and another funeral pier.

But this is the worst fear. The frenzied, wired one, that means something’s gone wrong—why the hell does something always have to go wrong—and Dean won’t be able to feel okay until it’s better.

That one can be about Sammy and the demon blood. About being forced to his knees while Anna sliced Jo’s neck open.

But it’s mostly about Her. 

In pain in his arms. Calling him and saying She’ll be in Michigan, but then Dean got to Michigan and all that was left was the Firebird. Then hunters get the jump on his and Sam, because this fear doesn’t make him useful, or delay until he can’t ignore it anymore. It’s demanding, and painful, and every single time they’d walked into a memory of Her in Heaven, Dean had wanted to grab Her and never let go. Even when he damn well knew it wasn’t Her—the memories didn’t smell like fruit, and he should’ve gotten that it was Her in the blanket fort in the first second, because She’d smelled like fruit there—Dean had felt all the air tighten in his lungs.

Then he’d lost Her.

He’d grabbed the real Her—not dead, just walking through heaven like it was nothing, because she was a freaking angel—and then watched Her vanish with Zachariah. 

The rest of the night had been a blur. A lot of Sam and Cas trying to calm him down, things breaking, and graphic threats that he wouldn’t actually inflict on them, but likely on himself. He’d roared at the sky, begging it to split open and Dean catch Her. He’d somehow lost Her again, and there was no damn point in being Her shadow or guard or friend or anything if Dean just kept fucking dropping Her, when She needed to be held like it was the world and all the stars in his hands- 

“Dean.” Bobby had frowned at him from the doorway of their room. 

Her room. Her room, that She trusted Dean to share. That had all his clothing, because they’d all stopped pretending Dean would ever be able to sleep without Her. The sheets still smelled like Her. Dean was holding one of Her notebooks, all the words in Enochian, like he could somehow read it and find a way to bring her back. 

“Don’t say anything,” Dean had muttered, closing the book. “I don’t want to hear it, Bobby, I freakin’ know-“

“She called, ya idjit.”

His head had shot up. “She-“

“Sent a text first.” Bobby had grunted. “Called ‘er, we figure she got dropped somewhere in Northern California. She’s tryin’ to find somewhere to lay low ‘till you get her, but she’s stuck luggin’ that Adam kid with her. I were you, I’d get her fast.”

The fear had been clouding his brain. She’d gotten out, with Adam, but that didn’t mean she was safe. They didn’t know what the hell the angels had done to Her, if they’d hurt Her, if She’d needed Dean and he hadn’t been there. And California was far, and- 

“She fucking hates California.” Dean had said, the only thought able to get itself out of his mouth, and Bobby had only shrugged.

“Then you’d better drive fast.” He’d paused. “Don’t get arrested. I ain’t got the time to bail you out.”

Dean had nodded, and sprinted out of the room. No need to wake Sam up for this, not when they were still a pissed at each other. All of Sam’s Heaven’s had been fucking bullshit—times he’d left Dean, shit he’d pulled off that had spurred memories of Dad spitting in Dean’s face and bruises on his jaw—and Dean had thrown a few chairs after Sam told him he couldn’t just go back to Heaven and get Her. 

They fell the fuck apart, without Her. And Dean needed Her back now. The fear had turned almost numb and electric, and slowly ebbed out the closer he got to the address Bobby had given him.

But it gave way to new fear.

Cold fear. He could sort of feel it in his bones, and he’d been able to feel it since Mom died. He’d felt it every time Dad had gone out for a hunt, and Dean hadn’t been sure he’d return—and whenever he’d fucked up while Dad was on a hunt, and he hadn’t wanted Dad to return—and he’d felt it when he’d been in the demon deal, and She hadn’t known. Felt it every damn month She’d been gone, he’d called Her, and it had twisted in his stomach that this might be the time She didn’t pick up. 

Dread. It was dread. 

And as he pulled up the final dirt street—he’d been driving for over a day without sleep, but he didn’t need sleep, he needed Her—that was the fear that sunk into his body.

The fear that She’d be in pain when he saw Her, and this time, he wouldn’t be able to fix it. 

Dean shut off Baby’s engine, but this would be quick. He just needed to grab Her—and Adam—and get home. And this was the address, but it was a dusty, abandoned looking cabin on the edge of some farmland, so- 

Something tackled him from behind, arms wrapping around his chest and a face pressing into his back. 

Anyone else, and he would’ve shot without thinking. But somehow—maybe the smell, maybe the feel, maybe just a deep instinct that told him don’t shoot the best person you’ve ever loved, dumbass—he knew it was Her. So his arm dropped to keep Her’s around him, and he let out a heavy breath as they swayed on the sidewalk. 

Dean muttered Her name, craning his head back to meet Her gaze, and found her face still buried into his back. Her cheeks were smushed, and Her hair was a mess—but still somehow shiny, even in the dust of California—and when Dean repeated Her name, she just held him tighter. 

“You found me.” She mumbled against his shirt, something soft and choked in Her voice, and Dean twisted fully in Her arms. He needed to hold Her back. To make sure she was real. 

“Course I found you,” he kissed the top of Her head—that was allowed right now, she was crying—and she was going to suffocate him. He didn’t mind. “You-“

“I’m okay.” 

Dean sighed, and took Her face between his hands, tipping it back to meet his gaze. 

Her eyes were almost blinding, and glossy. Tinted red with tears, just as her cheeks were flushed and Her lips were swollen, likely from chewing. And there was that little, worried furrow in Her brow. 

She wasn’t okay. 

Dean ran his thumb down the bridge of Her nose, and tried to make his voice as gentle as possible. He didn’t know how to fix whatever was getting to Her. He had to fucking try.

“What happened?”

She shook Her head, hair sliding over her face that Dean got to brush away with his softest touch. 

“I-“ She took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch. And he really was a piece of shit, because that was going to replay over and over in his head for the rest of his damn life. “I’m-“

Someone called Her name, and Dean tugged Her forward, wrapping an arm back around Her and raising his gun. He got Her, he had Her, she wasn’t anybody’s but Dean was Her’s, and they’d have to kill him to touch Her- 

“What’s-“ Adam’s head poked out from behind the cabin, and his eyes widened, flicking between Dean, and Her in Dean’s arms. “Oh. Dean, you, uh- I thought Sam was coming?”

“Sam was sleeping.” Dean grunted. “And I’ve got the freakin’ car- Shit-“

Dean groaned as She shoved him, right in the gut, and leaned back with a glower. 

He tried to give Her a winning smile, but it was more of a wince. “Ow, Princess-“

“Don’t Princess me, Winchester.” She snapped, and Dean’s grin felt a little more real. He was either going insane, or the hours without sleep were finally getting to him. She was so pretty, and the sun was rising, and all the light seemed to only shine for Her. Making Her almost freaking glow. “Put the gun down.”

He hadn’t realized he was still holding it. But he listened, raising his brows as he tucked it away. 

Her scowl didn’t waver. “Where is Sam.”

“I told you, sleeping-“

“So you drive here alone?!”

“Uh,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and glanced to Adam, but the kid was just staring at Her. “Maybe. But you needed help-“

“Not drive all night help, Dean!” She grabbed his face between Her hands, and Dean didn’t even bother to fight it. He was pretty sure she could try to stab him for real this time, and he wouldn’t do a damn thing about it. “When was the last time you slept?”

He wasn’t sure. He knew he hadn’t slept on the drive to Michigan, then he hadn’t slept in Heaven, but he’d been dead. That didn’t count. And She’d been missing for about a day and a half, plus the drive-

He was well over thirty-six hours.  

Telling Her that didn’t seem like the best idea. 

“I dunno,” he mumbled, and Her hands were so soft. “I’m fine, Princess-“

“Dean Winchester.” She hissed, and he might have lost all the blood in his face, rushing to other places in his body. She needed to keep looking at him like that. Forever. Like his health was something that really mattered to Her. 

He drawled Her name back, but he sounded a little drunk. This wasn’t working in his favor. 

“When did you last sleep,” She hissed—now didn’t feel like a good time to kiss Her—and he sighed. 

“Connecticut.”

Her eyes flashed, and before he was sure what was happening, they were moving. She’d grabbed Dean’s hand and was tugging him around the back of the cabin, and he was Her shadow. He didn’t know how to do anything but follow Her, wherever the hell she wanted to take him. 

Adam mumbled Her name as they passed him. “What-“

“We’re sleeping.” She snapped, and Adam frowned. 

“But-“

“Dean can’t sleep in the car.”

That was true. He couldn’t. And he didn’t know how the hell she knew that, but it didn’t matter. She was holding his hand. Half shoving him into some sort of makeshift bed before crawling up to his side, like She couldn’t bear to be away from him.

“Uh-“ Adam cleared his throat from somewhere near the door. “I thought we were going somewhere safe-“

“We’re safe here.” She shrugged, and Her hand was in Dean’s hair. He wasn’t sure She knew she was doing it. He never wanted Her to stop.

“Oh- okay.” Dean let his eyes flutter open, and Adam was frowning between them.

Dean let out a slow breath, and Adam’s attention settled on him. “We’ll drive in the morning, dude. I’ll call Sammy to get a room ready for you.”

Adam blinked. “For- me?”

“Bobby’s got a lot of rooms.” She hummed. “You can take Dean’s old one. We’ll figure the rest when we get home.”

Adam nodded nervously, and Dean felt a little guilty. He should be doing more, but his thoughts were only circling around old room. His old room. Because now they shared one, and didn’t bother to pretend.

But that wasn’t important. And even if Adam wasn’t Sammy, they were still family. Dean was the big brother. He should be helping Adam. Telling him that he was going to sleep because telling Her no took all the willpower in the world—and with Her hand in his hair and his head on Her thigh, Dean didn’t have any willpower—but then they’d go to Bobby’s, and everything would be fine. 

But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what had happened to them, in those two days. And Adam was looking at him strangely, the same way Dad used to look at him. The way that made Dean feel like he was doing something wrong, when he was doing nothing at all. And Adam wasn’t Dad—he wasn’t going to hurt Her—but Dean didn’t like the way the kid’s eyes kept flicking between Her and Dean. 

Mostly Her. Adam kept looking at Her with an expression Dean knew from the mirror. Like She was the most beautiful thing in the universe—She was—and just a brush of Her skin against his would be a high better than goddamn heroine. 

Dean could understand a crush. Adam was just a kid, and She was magnetic. But She was sitting with Dean. And he was Her shadow. Adam could want Her, Dean wasn’t going to be weird about that. Dad might crawl out of the grave to strangle him if he ever chose a girl over family—even though She was family, and he’d only just met the real Adam—and Dean didn’t have any right to get possessive. She wasn’t Dean’s to possess. Only to protect, and hold, and maybe touch wherever he was allowed.

Another selfish thought. He should be focusing on Her and Adam’s safety and stability. On how there was a hollowness to Her features that told him something was wrong. But She was warm, Dean was exhausted, and this cabin was safe. Dean could recognize Her handwriting if he was blindfolded, even when said writing was in Enochian. Those were Her wards, the ones She’d put up at Bobby’s, and they’d had to toss three kinds of salt over Cas’ shoulder, dump him in holy water of the spring—rose water that Bobby had blessed with an eye roll—and let Her burn a lock of his vessel’s hair for him to be allowed into the yard. They’d be fine. 

Dean could turn his face to rest on Her abdomen and hear Her breath hitch, grinning to himself at the sound. He’d like to stay here for a while. Maybe damn the world and rest here into the apocalypse and after. Her fingers combing through his hair and making him feel like a dog, the smell of fruit all around him, his body relaxing because it was Her. 

And She was humming softly.

That wasn’t the voice of a siren, or an angel. It was whatever starlight sounded like, humming Ramble On just so Dean could sleep. 

He passed out faster than maybe ever in his life. He didn’t dream. And when his eyes blinked open to hazy, golden sunlight, She was watching him. 

She was so beautiful. There seemed to be a halo around Her head, and Her skin was still glowing, and Her eyes were so bright Dean was pretty sure he’d be able to see them guiding him home in the darkest storms.

He loved Her. 

She looked so tired. 

Dean reached a hand up before he could think better of it, and traced his fingers over Her cheeks. She blinked at him, leaning into his touch as Her eyes went glossy again, and something was wrong. He’d been an asshole, he’d known something was wrong, and he’d just fallen asleep like she hadn’t just been an angel prisoner-

“Feel better?” She whispered, and Dean voice was barely a rasp.

“Now I do, yeah.” He sat up slowly, keeping hold on Her careful. Tight enough that he could shift Her into his lap. Lose enough that, if She wanted, She could leave.

But She didn’t. 

She just wrapped Her legs around his torso, and dropped Her head to his chest. His arms flew up, caging Her back to keep Her steady, hands tangling in Her hair because he could.

Dean muttered Her name, and She held him tighter. “What the hell happened, after we got zapped.”

“I- I can’t-“ She curled further into him, and Dean knew that strain in Her voice. She was trying not to cry. “De, I don’t know how to- I don’t know what to do- I- I’m not-“

“It’s okay.” He kept his voice soft, swallowing down another baby. It wasn’t the time. “I’ve got you, Princess, you’re safe-“

A sob shook Her body, and Dean just held Her. If that was all he had to do right now, to be worthy of being Her shadow, he’d do it every damn time. Until Her breathing was even, and he could carefully tip Her head back and give her a sad smile. 

“I’m here.” He murmured, and She blinked at him through Her tears. 

He wiped them away with his thumb, then let it drift to the bridge of Her nose once more. Her eyes fluttered shut and She let out the best, airiest sigh he’d ever heard in his damn life. Dean could die here. With Her relaxed in his arms, their bodies tangled together, and nothing real in the world but the feeling of Her against him.

But Adam. The end of the world and Adam. 

Dean kissed Her brow, fought the urge to just kiss Her when She made another soft sound and curled her fingers on his chest, and forced himself to get up. He kept Her in his arms—She didn’t fight it, another bad sign—and walked Her outside to the Impala. After She was safely in the passenger’s seat, he went back for Adam. The kid had been sleeping in the room over, and it wasn’t hard to get him moving. 

He just had to say She was waiting in the car.

They were on the road quick. And it was a day long drive, but that was for assholes who obeyed things like speed limits.

Dean didn’t have time for that. She was being too quiet, Adam kept opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to ask questions but wasn’t sure how, and Dean could feel that cold fear again. Something had happened. Something had to have happened. Ellen was gone, all She had was her knives and a jar with something brown and sludge-like in it, and She kept looking at the skyline with that small wrinkle in her brow. 

It was going to drive him insane. He could beat his own muscle and soft tissue going black and blue over it, how he’d just fallen asleep at Her request, like he wasn’t supposed to be the one taking care of Her-

“Dean.” She mumbled, after they’d stopped for gas somewhere in Wyoming, long Adam knocked out in the backseat. “I called Sam. I think Adam’s a little sick, so they’ll be ready to look at him.”

Dean glanced at Adam in the rearview. “He looks fine-“

“He’s got a bite mark.” She was picking the skin on Her nails again, and gave Dean a sad look when his hand shot out of cover her’s. “I-“

“Don’t do that.” He muttered. “How the hell’d he get a bite mark, a freakin’ snake?”

She shook Her head, her hair falling over Her face and Her voice almost a whisper. “Me. I- I’ve never resurrected someone before. I think I did it wrong or something, because it looks like a ghoul bite, and it’s right here.” She reached up and touch the soft skin under Dean’s collarbone. A little electric shock ran through his body at the contact. He was worse than a damn teenager. 

He took a steadying breath—he was a grown man, he’d just slept in her lap, he could handle her touching him and talking to him all gorgeous and awesome—and shot her a small frown. “You’re the one who brought him back?”

She only nodded, and Dean felt the dread move deeper than his bones. Into something colorful and vital and shimmering, that knew Dean was just another thing in Her orbit, but he still had to keep Her safe.

Dean said Her name, and Her fingers twined with his. As if She was afraid he was going to let go. “Tell me what happened, sweetheart. Please.”

Her grip was death like. And it didn’t loosen, as She turned to press Her face into his arm. Her breaths muffled in Dean’s body, but She was also clinging to him like he was a buoy in a hurricane, so he just squeezed Her hand once.

There was a pause, then three squeezes in return. She didn’t seem fine. But before Dean could push it, she was talking. 

“I- I need to tell you most of it later.” She mumbled. “With everyone else. But, I – I don’t know what to do.”

He sighed. “I know, but-“

“I met Michael.” Her words were quick, and the dread was going to eat him alive. “He- He was yellow. And big. And he- he said that I-“ 

She made another weak noise, and Dean muttered Her name. “Breathe, Princess, I’ve got you-“

“Dean.” She whispered, Her chin propping on his shoulder, and when he shot Her a glance, Her eyes were big and bright on his. “Michael told me something.”

Dean frowned. “Like what? His evil plan?”

“No. Not his.”

“Wha-“

“He said I was the bride of God.” She whispered. “He- He said that’s what I was made for. That it’s why I’m like this.”

Dean couldn’t really hear anything. Couldn’t really see anything, either. It wasn’t a safe way to drive, but he didn’t care about driving right now. 

He cared about Her, half clinging to his side, Her voice far too fucking small and defeated. He cared about why She’d say like this—She was perfect, if anything, everyone else should want to be more like Her—and that Michael would call Her that. 

Bride of God.

“What the fuck does that mean.” He muttered, and his knuckles were white on the wheel. 

“Probably what it sounds like.” She mumbled, blinking up at Dean with a nervous expression. “Dean?”

He grunted—he felt like he was drowning without any water to blame—and glanced back to find Her watching him with an open, nervous expression.

“Are you mad at me?”

Dean stared at Her for a moment. That was insane. None of this was Her fault, it was God and the Angels and Hell and all these stupid fucking games with people’s lives that didn’t make sense, he understood it but he couldn’t let it make sense-

She opened Her mouth, and Dean shook his head. Her shadow. The most important thing was being Her shadow, and keeping Her safe.

“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing the top of Her head and forcing himself to not crash the car when She made another little sound. “We just- Guess we got work to do. We’ll call Cas. See what he knows.”

“Okay.” She dropped Her face back down to Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Course.” I love you. I just want to love you Princess, cryptic douchebag archangels or not. “You’re gonna be alright, Princess. Pinky promise.

He turned his hand in Her’s, hooked their pinkies, let out a slow breath as She hummed into his side.

Bride of God.

She was the Bride of God.

Son of a Bitch, he wished that didn’t make sense. That he could just call Michael a lying asshole and be done with it.

But She was divine. Dean had always known She was divine. Ethereal and blinding, made of something he should never be allowed to touch. Something nobody should be allowed to touch, something that was too good to be stuck in the mud with the rest of them. Not just hunters and people born with no way out but a bloody one. Everyone. Even the fanciest asshole at bars—hitting on Her while Dean had glowered at his beer and shoved down the urge to march over and slam his lips against Her’s—had been beneath Her. Dean had just gotten real damn lucky, being the animal that She grew fond of. 

Or unlucky. 

Because if She was the Bride of God—if that was a real thing, and She was it, and She might as well be because Dean had always worshipped Her all the same—that meant She could never be Dean’s. That the most he would ever get was this. 

Her head on his shoulder as they drove, fast asleep and peaceful. Her hand was still in Dean’s free one—he could drive with one hand, he wasn’t a fucking idiot, and when he kissed Her knuckles she made another soft, sweet sound he wanted to devour—as he listened to the music, and got them home. 

Sam was pacing outside, when they pulled into the yard around midnight. She and Adam had both been knocked out for a few hours, and while She didn’t jolt awake as the engine turned off, Adam did.

“Wha-“ The kid blinked around, rubbing his eyes as Dean adjusted Her in his lap. “Where are we?”

“Bobby’s.” Dean muttered, glancing in the side mirror. Sammy was coming over, he could help Adam while Dean took care of Her. “It’s safe. He’s family, and the place is warded to freakin’ hell.”

Adam paled. “Like- Literally?”

“No.” She made a small noise as Dean wrapped Her arms around his neck, but didn’t try to pull away. He was the most selfish asshole in the world. “Sam’ll help you with that bite, then we’ll all meet up in the morning.”

“How’d you know about-“ Adam paused, then said Her name. “She told you?”

“Yep.” He glanced up as Sam knocked on the window, and nodded his head to the backseat. Sam understood—thank Fucking Christ—and opened the back door.

“Hi, Adam, I’ve got the medkit, and- Dean?”

Dean grunted, and glanced back to see Sam frowning at Her.

“Is she-“

“She fine.” Bride of God. “Need to get her to bed, can you-“

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You want me to-“

“Call Cas. Tell him we’re gonna talk in the morning. Is Bobby-“

“In his office. I’ll tell him you’re home.”

Adam cleared his throat, and they both looked to him with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “That’s just- It’s kinda freaky.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean adjusted Her fully, and he’d be able to carry Her like this. He’d always carry Her. “Lot more shit where that came from.”

He was being an asshole. Dean knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He needed to take care of Her. 

Their room was untouched, from when Dean had left it. Her notebook was still on the floor. Everything was in its place. 

Including Her. Fit perfectly in Dean’s arms.

Bride of God.

Maybe it wasn’t Her place. Maybe She should be sleeping on a freaking cloud, or on vacation in Jupiter, making angel babies. Dean really didn’t want to think about Her making angel babies. It didn’t matter if it was Her destiny, he didn’t want Her to be anywhere that he couldn’t follow. Because even if She was the Bride of God, God wouldn’t hold Her like Dean could. It was an insane, absurd thought—it was fucking God—but it was the only thing that eased the frozen dread in his body. If God was out there, he hadn’t done shit for Her. Dean would do anything. He loved Her, and he loved Her like it was written into his fucking DNA, and when he eased them both down onto the bed, She wrapped herself around Dean’s body. 

Michael might have been lying.

Dean wasn’t that lucky. 

That could be what being Her shadow was. Her lover in the corners, and Her guard dog, and nothing more than just the luckiest son of a bitch alive, there for Her in all the ways God couldn’t be.

God.

Fucking God.

What chance did Dean stand against God-

She made a soft, sleepy sound, and Dean glanced down. She was drooling, right onto his chest. Her nose was nuzzled into his throat, and son of a bitch, of course She was the Bride of God. She was perfect.

But She was still sleeping on Dean. When he so much as shifted, Dean was the one who got a distressed sound and tight grip around his neck. 

Dean was Her’s. He loved Her, and he’d love Her all the way down. 

He shouldn’t have been able to sleep, with all the lingering dread. But She smelled like fruit, and She was warm around him, and- 

This place was creepy.

The ceilings were too high, everything was too clean, and the polished floor had some sort of weird engraving on it. It looked like Enochian, when Dean squinted and tilted his head. But the people around him couldn’t be angels. Angels didn’t wear fancy clothing like that, and while they did have cold, unforgiving features, they didn’t lurk in dark corners. The only angel Dean had ever seen lurk in a corner was Cas, and Cas wasn’t a normal angel. 

Angels didn’t whisper, and all these assholes were whispering. Slowly milling about until they’d formed some big sort of circle, and shooting glances at the center of the room.

Dean felt like he was supposed to go somewhere. Maybe anywhere but here. He was like a freaking match in a needle stack, surrounded by sharp, polished people, while he wore a leather jacket, jeans, and mud-caked boots. 

At least he wasn’t tracking the mud, as he tried to push through the odd crowd. Given how clean these people were, that would probably be a whole thing. 

He should just leave. He was definitely intruding on something that he wasn’t supposed to see, and didn’t really want to anyway. But something was calling him. Pulling him forward like a magnet, tugging on something just to the right of his heart and telling him to fucking go-

He stumbled forward as the crowd suddenly ended, and there She was. 

A smaller version of Her—a little doll-like with her black dress, perfectly styled hair, and blank expression that made Dean’s gut twist—but Her. Dean would know Her anywhere.

She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the old man standing over Her—he had the same nose She did, and different coloring, but an almost identical posture—and the blade in his hand. 

It looked like an echo of Her blade. A crude replica. And She stared at it as the man took Her hand, and flipped it palm up. 

Dean wanted to call Her name, but his voice was stuck in his throat.

The old man beat him to it. 

“First born daughter of the coven’s last born daughter, you have bled for the first time. Your second blood will be spilt in his name, the great one, Yahweh, the creator, who has promised us greatness in his service. Do you offer yourself to him, in entirely, should you be the Bride?”

He had to do something. Dean was just goddamn standing here, and She looked so young, and her voice was so soft and small and this felt like something someone should get shot about-

“I do.” She bowed Her head, and the whole room started whispering. There were some barely muffled laughs, too. As if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. They were lucky to even be in Her presence, but Dean still needed to do something, why couldn’t he fucking move and do something-

Her name escaped his throat, his voice hoarse, and Her head whipped to his. For a second, She was the version of Her Dean knew, and loved, and would drown in the mud or the ocean or pits of hell for. Then the old man sliced the blade deep into Her hand, and she flickered back into the little girl. 

It was only for a second. As Her hand was twisted so the blood fell to the floor, and the room filled with some creepy chant that nobody seemed to be trying all that hard on. Then She was back to herself, yanking Her hand away from the old man and sprinting over to Dean. She slammed into him with an almost frightening force, but Dean didn’t flinch. His arms wrapped around Her and he lifted her off the ground, their faces inches away, Her eyes blinding on his and Her lips parted with a small flush-

The room shook, and a few people screamed. Dean’s grip tensed around Her, his hand shooting to his jeans for his pistol, but she caught it first.

“It’s fine.” She mumbled, squeezing his hand three times and pressing Her face to the crook of his neck. “I- I’m glad you’re here, De. I hate this one.”

“Course I’m here, Princess.” He muttered, even though he didn’t like this one either, and he didn’t even know what ‘this’ was. “Always here.”

She let out a soft laugh, and just held him a little tighter. But Dean’s eyes were trapped on the sight before him. 

Her blood, no longer just a single stain of red in the Enochian carvings.

It was a river, running through the sigil, fucking glowing silver. Like someone had sliced a little bit of starlight, and dumped it over the fucking floor. It looked molten and dangerous and alluring, and the whole fucking chamber smelled like fruit to the point that Dean was pretty sure it wasn’t just her hair near his nose. 

Dean said Her name carefully, and She shook Her head.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She mumbled into his skin. “I- I don’t want it to be real.”

And he didn’t have to ask what. He knew. That cut had been exactly where Her scar was, and She’d always told him that her family was full of cultic assholes. That they’d thought She was destined to marry-

Son of a bitch.

She’d been right. Dean didn’t really want to talk about it either. He just wanted to hold Her a little tighter and bury his face in Her hair, as chaos broke out around him. People were shouting and screaming like this hadn’t been the whole purpose of the stupid thing, the Silver was only growing brighter and brighter, and Dean just kept holding Her. 

He’d hold her like this when the real world ended too. 

He’d hold Her until she was ripped from his arms, and he was left in the mud. 

His eyes blinked open to harsh light through the windows, and they’d shifted in their sleep. Dean was still holding Her, but she wasn’t straddling him anymore. Her face wasn’t his neck either, but pressed right against Dean’s as he lay on his stomach. Pinning Her to the mattress. Their legs tangled together and Her knee pressed dangerously close to-

Fuck.

Dean tried to shift away, but he was too slow. She mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like his name, held him tighter, and Dean groaned. Right in Her ear. 

Another mistake. 

She made the softest, most musical and intoxicating sound Dean had ever heard, and he definitely had to move now, but it was too late. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on his, and-

“Dean?” She mumbled, yawning right into his face, and Dean never wanted to move again. 

“Hey, Princess.” He sounded like a fucking idiot. “You, uh-“ His boner. He was so hard it hurt, and She was right there and so pretty with glazed eyes and sleep swollen lips. And he was all kinds of fucked up for having a nightmare then getting a hard-on for his best friend, but that’s what was happening. “Breakfast?”

She hummed and nodded, but made no effort to move. 

That was fine. Dean could move for both of them. He pushed up off of Her slowly, angling his hips carefully to keep them out of Her attention, and let just a little bit of his will falter. He ducked down at the last second, pressed a kiss to Her brow, and grinned to himself as She made a soft, sweet sound. Son of a bitch, he loved Her.

But he was still a piece of shit. He still brushed hair from Her face and ran his thumb down her nose, before shuffling to the bathroom, turning on the sink, and fisting his cock in his hand. Letting his thoughts wander to Her beautiful, heavenly features and soft skin and body tangled with his. The feeling on Her breath on his neck and the flutter of Her eyes in the low light of parking lots. The sound of Her voice saying his name in a tiny gasp and the phantom taste of Her from months ago, they haven’t kissed in over half a freaking year but Dean was still being haunted by Her touch and taste, and he could see Her sprawled out below him in bed, or maybe straddling his waist again and kissing his jaw-

He clenched his jaw as he came, choking on the groan of Her name and squeezing his eyes tight enough for it to hurt. He didn’t deserve Her. He still stopped at the edge of their bed after he cleaned himself up—their bed, he was standing at their bed—and stared at Her for a long moment like some stalker.

Breakfast.

He needed to make sure She ate, because that cabin hadn’t looked like a restaurant, and something told him she’d probably told Adam she was eating whatever rations they’d had, while giving them all to him. And the kid didn’t know how to tell when She was lying. So it was Dean’s job to make sure She ate. 

He opened the door, and almost had a damn heart attack.

“Jesus fucking-“ He took a steady breath, running a hand over his face. “Son of a bitch, Cas, what are you doing-“

Cas frowned at him, as if the answer should be obvious. “Watching over you, Dean. Well,” Cas nodded past his shoulder, when Dean could hear Her shifting in the sheets. “Both of you.”

“Dean?” Her voice was still filled with sleep, Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas, and Cas paled slightly. “What’s-“

“Nothing, Princess.” He grunted. “Go back to sleep-“

“Cas?” Goddamnit. “What are you-“

“I told Dean already,” Cas said, his words slow. “I was watching over you both.”

Dean sensed Her behind him before he felt Her. And he could be normal about this. About Her standing right next to him, Her chin propped on his bicep, his arm braced on the door. He could be normal.

“But you were standing outside?” Dean glanced down to see the prettiest frown on Her face, and Cas shrugged. 

“This seemed to be a private moment, I didn’t wish to interrupt it.” He glanced back to Dean. “You should change. We have been waiting for you to awaken.”

Dean sighed. He couldn’t punch Cas, even if he’d woken Her up. “Don’t say awaken, dude, you sound a million.”

“He is a million, Deano.”

Dean gave Her an exasperated look, and Cas frowned.

“I am actually over a billion-“

“Really?!” Her eyes went wide, and Dean sighed. 

“Princess,” he muttered, letting his hand glide down to Her lower back. Her attention turned to him, Her eyes fluttering slightly, and two boners in one morning was too many. “They’re waitin’ for us to awaken. Go change.”

She glanced back to Cas. “But I wanna ask him about dinosaurs-“

Dean gave Her a flat look, and She sighed.

“Fine. But,” She shot him a glare. “Just because Cas said we need to change. You’re not my boss, Winchester.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I got that, sweetheart-“

“Shut up.”

“Bossy.” He called after Her, watching Her stomp into the bathroom, and turned back to Cas with a sigh. “C’mon. Gotta make her majesty eggs.”

Cas nodded, following Dean down the stairs, and everyone was waiting for them. Seated around the table, frowning at Dean and Cas as they entered the kitchen. 

Bobby cleared his throat. “Dean, where-“

“Getting dressed.” He muttered, walking over to the stove. “She’ll be down soon. You guys already gone over all the shit?”

“Almost,” Sam sighed. “We know that the Angels were going to use Adam as bait for us, that we all got brought back when Zachariah showed up, and Adam says that they were in some sort of magic room for a while.”

“I don’t know how long.” Adam jumped in. “It felt like it was a while? They took me, the brown-haired lady-“

“Ellen,” Sam muttered with a grimace, and Adam nodded. 

“Yeah, her. And,” Adam said Her name, shooting Dean a strange look. “She said she had a plan to break us out. But I blacked out, and when I woke up she was fighting the bald guy-“

“Zachariah.”

“And she made him vanish, then sort of,” Adam placed his hand on his brow. “And I woke up on the side of the road with her next to me.”

Dean frowned. “Ellen-“

“Didn’t make it.”

Their attention all shot to the door, and She looked so small. Her arms wrapped around Her stomach and her words nervous, as if she was worried someone was going to try and kick her. None of them would. Ever. Even Adam seemed to understand that after a day, scrambling to his feet and pulling out the chair next to his. She shuffled over with a small smile of thanks—and a bigger smile to Dean, but he wasn’t going to let that go to his head—and dropped down with a long sigh. 

“I- Um- I got Adam.” She whispered, Her eyes fixed on her hands. “But Zachariah came back. And he grabbed Ellen. I don’t think angels can kill souls, but he- he was going to do something. I couldn’t stop it, and she said it was okay, but- I-“ She swallowed, and Dean abandoned the eggs. There were more eggs in the universe anyway. There was only one Her. 

He muttered Her name, standing right behind her chair, and Her head tipped back to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to-“

“Yeah, I do.”  

She fucking didn’t. But he wasn’t going to win this conversation. So Dean just offered his hand. 

She took it. In front of everyone. Squeezed it three times—She was fine—and took a shaking breath. 

“I don’t know what happened to her. But I got Zachariah-“ She sat up suddenly, and Dean grunted as Her grip tightened. “Fuck- My jar, where the fuck is my jar-“

“I’ve got it.” Sam cut in quickly, pulling it out of his bag on the floor. “What-“

Cas cut Sam off with Her name, his eyes comically wide. “Is that…”

“Yeah.” She sighed, pulling the jar forward. “Say hi, Zachariah.”

There was a long silence, filled with only the sound of the frying pan sizzling and brown sludge slushing around.

Bobby cleared his throat. “Kiddo, you’re tellin’ me that you got an angel in a fuckin’ jar?”

“Yeah.” 

“But-“ Sam shook his head. “I mean, how-“

“Don’t know.” She sighed, setting Zachariah down on the table. “I just… did. Then I ripped open a hole in the room, and walked out.”

“The room?” Cas frowned. “The green room?”

“I don’t think so. This one was in heaven and- Reinforced. With iron. It seemed like it was part of old Heaven.”

Sam raised his hand. “What’s old Heaven-“

“Heaven before God left.” Cas said, still watching Her. “Most of it is off limits to everyone, but archangels have access to certain areas. Did you-“

“Yeah. Micheal.”

Silence again, this time broken by Sam.

“You met Michael? Did he, like, want something?”

“Yeah. Um, a lot. He wanted a lot, and said a bunch of stuff and-“ She took a shaking, long breath, and broke into a frantic ramble. “He wanted my alliance. For me to tell Dean to say yes, just like Lucifer wanted me to convince Sam to say yes, and I know I should have told you guys that when it happened but a lot was going on and I- I don’t know. But Michael said he wanted me at his side when God returned, because I- He-“ 

Dean muttered Her name, and she shook Her head. 

“I’m the Bride of God.” She whispered. “He said it was my destiny. That I should want to speed this along, because the sooner Lucifer is dead the sooner God will return.” She wrinkled Her nose. “For- For me.”

Dean was getting really sick of the silences. They let him feel his heartbeat in his fucking throat. And he didn’t even give a shit that She’d lied about Lucifer, because he’d known She’d lied. He just wanted that last part to be a lie, for him to have a single fucking chance of keeping her.

“The Bride of God.” Cas’ expression was strange, but Dean understood it. And the last bit of his hope sank into his gut like a stone. “That is supposed to be a myth.”

Sam frowned. “Angels have myths?”

“More like bedtime stories.” Cas sighed. “But I have to admit, it does make sense. You fall into every part of the legend, Heaven bent to your will, and you were able to enter the throne room. There is… no other explication. The only part I don’t understand is how you are also the Magdalene-“

“One angel- Joshua, he said it was a cruel joke.” She said quietly. “But Michael said it was on purpose.”

Bobby grunted. “Don’t think it matters. You wanna marry God, kiddo?”

Her nails were digging into Dean’s skin. “No.”

“Then you ain’t gonna. Any other archangels tellin’ you important shit?”

She nodded, and they all just fucking kept talking. About Gabriel, and how he’d explained a way for them to put Lucifer back in the cage, with the Horseman’s rings. And it was important, and Dean felt a little damn sick when She said they’d need to find a way to get Lucifer into the cage—there weren’t a lot of options, and Sammy’s expression meant he was thinking something smart and stupid—but they needed to go back. To stop talking about the last two rings, and start talking about how She was the Bride of fucking God. Destinies weren’t easy to avoid when it was just two archangels trying to ride Sam and Dean’s ass, there was no way God was just going to take Her no thanks and walk away. 

And if She didn’t want to marry the asshole, Dean try his goddamn best to stop it. But it was fucking God. If the guy was still alive, he was going to be impossible to just sock in the jaw and kick to the curb. They needed a plan, to keep Her here. Talking to Bobby about the Horsemen—She said she’d tracked Pestilence to upstate New York as She twisted the skin of Her finger, and Dean knew She was lying, but he was already sort of having trouble doing anything except holding Her hand like she was going to vanish a flash of light—and explaining to Sam how She’d made a spell to track Eileen, but just had to alter it for Death. 

She needed to stay next to Dean. 

She needed to stay Her own. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled that night, the day having passed in a slow inch of planning and trying to make sense of the whole, horrible situation. 

Dean spat out his mouthwash, and frowned at Her, sitting cross-legged on their mattress. “‘Bout what?”

“Not telling you about Lucifer.” She frowned at Her hands, rubbing Her wrists. “And making things more complicated.”

Dean let out a long, slow breath. He wasn’t thrilled about the Lucifer shit, but there were other things to worry about. The end of the world. Getting all the rings. How there was an archangel in a box downstairs, because none of them had really wanted Zachariah hearing their conversations.

Her. 

She was curling into Herself, and Dean was worried about Her.

He crossed the room to stand over Her, taking Her face between his hands and saying Her name as soft as he could. The way he’d say a prayer, if that was something he did. The way he’d always said it. The way that told him, yet again, that She was never his.

But She was leaning into Dean’s touch. 

And he didn’t want to let Her go. 

“Hey.” He murmured, and She looked at him under her lashes like some sort of perfectly designed sin. “I’m not pissed at you.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

He didn’t know. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t remember how to be, when Michael had offered Her paradise and she’d still chosen to be here.

“I lied.” She whispered, Her eyes wide and glossy on his. “And I- I’m not human, I’m just like them-“ She grabbed Dean’s wrists, Her words growing frantic. “Dean, I’m just like them-“

“Breathe.” He made his voice firm, commanding, and it wasn’t good for his health how She obeyed in half a second. “You’re not just like them, sweetheart-“

“Michael said I was designed to mirror god-“

“And I’m designed to be Michael’s favorite outfit.” Dean gave Her a pointed look. “You want me to be a meatsuit, Princess?”

“No.” 

“Then that’s it.”

That was it. 

Looking at Her, still clinging to his wrists and staring up at him like he was maybe the only planet in an infinite universe, Dean got what Bobby had meant. 

It was just Her. She didn’t want to be the freaking Bride or whatever, She wouldn’t be. If Dean didn’t get to have Her just because he wanted Her, God didn’t either. Dean had put in close to a decade of fights and conversations and trust and teamwork into just getting Her to kiss him once. She was here because She wanted to, so Dean would fight until his guts were lining the walls of heaven to keep Her here. 

He’d been right. He’d never been worthy of all Her light and life and smile, of the contact high he got just from being where she might smile at him.

But God wasn’t worthy of that either. And until She looked up at the sky and decided She’d rather be in the stars, Dean would care for Her in the warmth of the mud. 

“Can we-” She took a long, slow breath, and Dean’s thumb paused on Her nose. He hadn’t even realized he was doing that. “Go for a drive?”

Goddamnit. He was going to get another boner. “In… the car?”

She gave him a flat look. “No, De, on a horse.”

“You got a secret horse, Princess?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you about it-“

“Thought you trusted me,” Dean gave Her a wide grin, even as he faked a wounded tone. “Safer together, sweetheart-“

“That in no way applies here.” 

“Maybe. But you’re gonna feel real stupid when I die in a horse related emergency.”

“That means it’s an emergency with horses, Dean. Another one would not help.”

Dean laughed—She was back to being his girl, even if She wasn’t Dean’s anything—and helped Her to her feet. “C’mon, we can get a huge tub of ice cream and stick Zachariah in it.”

She sighed, but Dean could see the twitch of Her lips. She felt better. No longer shrinking into Herself, Her fingers laced through Dean’s as he pulled her outside with low whispers and Her pretty giggles carrying on the wind. They ended up at the convince store—armed, because they weren’t idiots—to get snacks, and sat in Baby’s front seat as the night crept on, and Her head landed on Dean’s shoulder.

He cleared his throat when he was about halfway through his bag of jerky, and She turned to him with that pretty, fluttering gaze. He almost forgot how to talk.

“I, uh-“ Dean coughed, and this was important. He had to ask, or it was going to drive him insane for the rest of his life. “What was Heaven like, before you jailbreaked?”

She stared at him for a beat before answering. “Different.”

He raised his brows, and She let out a slow sigh. 

“I- I don’t want to talk about it.” She mumbled. “Please.”

Dean didn’t want to not talk about it. He needed to know if he’d been in Her heaven. If he’d haunted the edge of all Her greatest hits, the same was She’d lined his. Because half of Dean’s heaven had been the better times with Sammy, and his rose-painted memories of his mother, but the other half had been Her. Meeting Her. Hunting with Her, hugging Her, two out of their three kisses—the second one a harsh, bright loop, because She’d kissed him—and a lot of moments like this. Sitting in his car, talking like things weren’t complicated. In a way that, to anyone just passing by the window, would look like two normal people in love. 

And that was exactly why Dean wouldn’t push it. He loved Her. It had been a long enough day as it was, and he didn’t want to end it in a fight.

“Alright.” He held out a gummy worm for Her, and tried not to jump on Her when she ate it out of his hand. “Who made the better case? Lucifer or Michael?”

She gave him an odd look, and Her voice fell to something soft. “Neither.”

“C’mon, sweetheart-“

“I’m serious.” She said, reaching into Dean’s lap for another gummy worm. She was trying to kill him. “They both sort of offered me the same thing. And even if I trusted one of them more than the other, and I fucking don’t, I’m not picking a side.”

Dean hummed. “What’d they offer you?”

She paused, scanning over Dean’s features so carefully, and he really hope She wouldn’t lie. Not because of the lie, but because if She didn’t want him to know what they'd offered Her, it was probably something he’d have to worry about-

“Paradise.” She whispered, and Dean swallowed. That was the truth. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” He sounded like an idiot. She didn’t seem to mind. 

“Promise me you won’t say yes to Michael.”

Dean blinked. “Wha-“

“Please.” She held up Her pinky. “Promise.”

Dean had considered it a few times. When there looked to be no way out. But then Michael had kidnapped his girl and made Her cry. And Dean had made Her cry a lot, but at least he’d been sick with guilt after. Michael probably thought he’d been right to lock Her up. And Dean would never hurt Her on purpose. So he wasn’t going to say yes to anyone who hurt Her. Ever. 

It seemed to mean a lot to Her that he promised, though. And it was an easy promise to make. 

“Okay.” He hooked his pinky through Her’s. “Pinky promise, Princess. Michael’s too tall to get on this ride.”

She let out a soft, breathy giggle, but didn’t let go. “For anything, right? You’ll never let him in?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

She let out a slow breath, and nodded. It calmed Her down. Dean was helping Her, and right now, that was the most he could do. 

They had work to do—planning and hunting and trying to stop the end of the world—but Dean most just had to help Her.

“I am not saying that.”

Dean glanced at Cas in the blue light of the TV, and found him glaring at a box in his lap. “Cas.”

Cas’ eyes shot up. “Dean.”

“What are you doing.”

“Talking to Zachariah.” Cas sighed, glaring back down at the box. “He was of a higher rank than I was. I was hoping he’d be able to tell me what Michael knows about the Bride of God, but he is being… uncooperative. And vulgar.”

She hummed, tilting Her head against Dean’s chest. She’d been lying there for an hour. He’d been very chill about it. “You can talk to him, in his jar?”

“Angel radio.” Cas muttered. “A one-to-one line.”

“Walkie talkie.” Dean offered, and Cas frowned.

“I do not know what that means.”

“It’s like a one-to-one radio,” Sam called from the table, not looking up from his book. “Dean’s actually right with this one.”

“The fuck you mean this one-“ 

Dean’s snap was cut off with an oof, and She’d shoved him back down onto the couch, giving him a firm glare before turning back to Cas. Dean was mostly just gaping up at Her like a dumbass. He wanted Her to shove him again, then maybe climb onto his lap and kiss him stupid, until he rolled them over and fucked Her into the couch-

“Do you think it’s important for us to worry about that?” Her voice was catious, and Dean let his hand trail up to Her waist. Just to rub small circles, and keep Her steady. “I mean, it’s not like I am God-“

“Yet.” Cas shrugged, and She tensed. “If both Michael and Lucifer want you on their teams, there may be other reasons than Sam and Dean. And if you are the Bride of God, maybe there is some sort of connection. My search has been useless-“

“Cas.” Sam cut in, his words soft. “I don’t think we should use her as just- A way to find God. This isn’t like Dean’s amulet, we need her-“

“And it’s not like God seems all that interested in what’s goin’ on anyway.” Dean grumbled. “He’s fuckin’ God, Cas, he wants us, he can make a house call.”

“No.” Her eyes were locked on to Cas’, and Dean frowned. That was a weird stare. “I- I’m with Cas. It can’t hurt to check.”

Dean sighed, “Fine.” And got a glare from Sam.

“Really, man? You’re just going to switch sides-“

“We lost, Sammy. Deal with it.” Dean looked back to Cas. “We bought ice cream, last week. We can shove him in there until he starts talking.”

Cas shook his head, and it was the only thing that saved Dean from getting hit. “That will not be effective. I do not believe he actually knows anything.”

She frowned. “Then wha- Oh.” Her eyes widened, and Dean sighed. She was going to say something stupid. “I have an idea.”

Dean needed to get better at saying no to Her ideas. They were always designed to try and fucking kill him. A good idea would be something safe and controlled, where the chances of it going wrong were slim and if it did go wrong, Dean could shoot their way out and carry Her to safety. 

This was not that. 

This was insane. 

Raphael. She wanted to use one of Her easy bake magic spells to summon Raphael and interrogate him like it was a freaking job interview. And there were about a million ways that could blow up in their faces, but Dean used all his willpower to say no to Her hunting Pestilence with Cas and Sam. And that had taken a whole argument in the kitchen, that he’d only won because Bobby cut in, called them both dramatic, and told Her that while her magic shit was still haywire, she shouldn’t be playin’ with jumper cables.

And this wasn’t much better. But at least She didn’t have nightmares about Raphael. 

So, small victories.

“It don’t like this,” Dean muttered, frowning at Her on the floor. She was knelt on the grass in the middle of the woods, drawing a sigil in the dirt. “I wanna go back to my ice cream idea-“

“If this doesn’t work, we can do the ice cream idea.” She stood up, wiping Her hands on her jeans. “Did you bring the mushrooms?”

Dean nodded, fumbling in his pockets with a small frown. “I want it down that I think there are other options,” he muttered, passing her the weird, moldy looking fungus he’d been tasked with carrying. “Jumping right in archangel wrestling is insane, Princess-“

“I’m not wrestling him, I’m trapping him.” She ground the mushroom in Her hand. “And I know you hate this, De, but I’d- I don’t want to do it alone-“

Her words ended in a squeak as Dean rolled his eyes, and tugged Her to his side. 

“You’re not doing anything alone,” he wanted to say baby. Her eyes were so bright on his, and She’d chosen to be here.

He couldn’t get away with it.

So he just said Her name, and held her gaze.

“Safe together.” He grunted, and Her throat bobbed. “All the way down.”

She nodded slowly, the tension in Her shoulder loosening. “All the way down. Are you-“

“Light it up.”

Her hand locked into Dean’s, and She looked up to the sky as she said a word that had to be Enochian. Then another word, then–right as She called the last one—the sky split open and she tossed a match onto the forest ground. 

A wildfire didn’t start. Lighting was striking the ground before him, but Dean wasn’t dying. Their hands felt fused together for a split second—skin melting into skin—but then it was over. The blinding light cleared, and there was Raphael. Frowning around the forest, then scowling as his attention landed on Her. 

“Oh.” He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Of course it’s you. And the most frustrating creature on the planet. And Dean Winchester, I thought I promised to make you wish you were never born?”

Dean shrugged, tugging Her a little behind him. “You can try, buddy, but-“

“You’ve got me in holy fire.” Raphael drawled, giving him a flat look. “I am aware. And reinforced holy fire, too. You are smart to keep such insubordinate company.” His eyes landed back on Her. “Smart to bring the whore.”

 “Listen here, you son of a bitch-“

“You want me to find God again?” Raphael cut Dean off with a bored tone. “Or maybe try to reason with Michael, when I have made it very clear I have no interest in doing so? Maybe you’re coming to your senses, and Michael’s blind faith in her,” he jerked his head to Her, and Dean was getting pretty fucking sick of how Raphael looked at Her like she was meat. “Isn’t misplaced?”

“We just want to talk,” She said, Her voice in a strange sort of song with the holy fire. “I- I have-“ She pulled Zachariah out of their bag, and Raphael’s eyes narrowed. 

“You expect me to care about Zachariah? You brought him as leverage? The most irritating angel I have ever met, including your little pet rebel?”

Dean scowled. “Cas isn’t our pet, dipshit-“

“Ah.” Raphael cut him off with a smirk. “Not your pet. I mean. Maybe your pet. But I was talking about her.” He looked back to Her, and her breathing sounded too shallow. “The Bride. The little girl, running around with angels in her pockets and gallivanting with humans, when she could bring paradise all on her own. Michael doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows.”

“Knows?” She whispered, and Raphael’s grin grew. 

“What you could be, if you weren’t you. He can see it. I can see it. But he will not accept that our father is dead-“

“He isn’t.”

Dean froze at Her soft words, and Raphael frowned. 

“What.”

“God,” She said, taking a slow step forward. “He isn’t dead.”

Raphael flinches slightly, but scoffed all the same. “You don’t know what you speak of, girl. You are still in infancy, and I have seen false prophets before-“

“But I’m not a false prophet.” She whispered, and Raphael froze. She was releasing Dean’s hand, passing him Zachariah, and walking forward. “You know that.”

“Do not tell me what I know-“

“But you do know.” She tilted Her head, and Dean could swear all the colors on the forest were getting saturated. That Her skin was starting to glow from more than the fire. “Just like you know that if you do touch Cas or Dean, I’ll hurt you.”

That was fear on Raphael’s face. Real damn fear. And Dean understood it. 

She’d stepped over the holy fire, and it had done nothing but dance along Her skin. Dean had a feeling if She turned back to look at him, Her pupils would be a brilliant silver. 

“Nobody would ever hurt again,” Raphael said, taking a step back as She walked forward, the Blade spinning in Her hands. “That father of yours would walk, Castiel’s grace would be returned, that girl, on your fingers, we’d bring her back as well, and- I know what Michael promised you-“

“I don’t care what Michael promised me.” She hissed, and Raphael seemed backed right to the edge of the circle. “And I think I can give Castiel his grace back myself. Just as I can resurrect, and heal. I don’t think I need you.”

Raphael’s eyes darted back to Dean, then narrowed. “You don’t understand what you can do. And we have a backup, while you will not get the liberty of a second choice-“

“I don’t need one.” She shrugged, stopped barely a foot front Raphael, all the wind seeming to swirl around Her. “Tell Michael that I’m out. And if he tries to touch my d- family, we’ll find out exactly what does make God come back.”

Raphael opened mouth, and Her hand pressed over it. 

Then there was a second where Dean couldn’t see anything but Her. Like a lighthouse in a storm, telling him to follow Her and dodge the swirling chaos of the lightning and thunder. It hadn’t been raining a minute ago. 

But when his vision cleared, it was pouring. The water pressing the holy fire into smoke, Raphael had vanished and She was passed out in the mud. 

Dean skid to his knees at Her side, pulling her limp body fully into his lap. She was infuriating, and if Her cheeks weren’t flushed, and if Dean couldn’t feel the heat of a fever, radiating from Her skin, he’d shout at Her for trying to give him a heart attack. He’d known this was a bad idea, and now he had to carry Her back to the car, through a whole ass forest-

The forest.

It was blooming. 

Leaves larger than Dean had ever seen, and flowers with petals that he could swear were sucking up light like a void, then spitting it back out into the air. The grass seemed to be singing, and there were oddly twisted branches spreading over their heads as Dean carried Her, as if they were trying to shield them from the storm. Strange, iridescent apples hung over their heads, and whenever Dean glanced over to the side, he could swear he saw a flash of fur or feathers, just out of sight. 

Not attacking. 

Guarding. 

Guarding Her. All the way to the edge of the tree line, when Dean stepped on concrete, and the rain seemed to triple in force. Dean half ran to the Impala, tucking Her into the seat first and pressing a kiss to Her brow before standing back upright. She was going to drive him insane. 

He never really wanted Her any other way. 

And he stared at Zachariah, in his stupid little jar, as he waited for the rain to lighten up. Baby could make it through the storm, but Dean didn’t want to risk the roads. Not when She was in this state, and seemed alright with just the heat of the car one, and Her body curled into Dean’s. He’d changed Her into the dry clothing he kept on the trunk, but kept his eyes off the goods. 

This—Her in his arms, his hand tangled at the base of Her wet hair, and Her breath on Dean’s arm—could be enough. Dean loved Her, even when She pulled crazy shit like this, so it was enough. 

He wasn’t going to say yes to Michael. And if that hadn’t made it clear enough to the feathered douchebags, he hoped this would.

Dean grabbed the angel blade Cas had given him a few months ago, kissed the top of Her head and stepped out into the storm. The sky lit up, and another clap of thunder rolled over through the air. If they wanted Dean, they could hit him. 

But they didn’t. 

So Dean slammed the jar down on the ground and drove the angel blade right into Zachariah’s ugly mug. He looked like a tiny, strange beast, reduced so small and pathetic it didn’t even make his eyes hurt to look at. And it flickered like a candle as the rain pelted down—cold and hard, like small bullets against his skull—but Dean didn’t move. Not until the light went out, and Dean got to slam his boot down, until Zachariah was nothing more than a shit-colored stain on the pavement. 

The whole experiment had failed. But he’d still killed Zachariah. And when Dean finally got to drive Her home, he got to have Her cling to his chest. Got to carry Her inside, and bring Her right to bed. Their bed. 

At least Sammy and Cas had some better luck. 

“It’s just Death, now.” Sam said, frowning at the three rings on the table. “I think we have a little time, though. He seemed surprised to see us.”

“Their plan wasn’t completed.” Cas muttered. “He and Lucifer have been working on infecting humans with the Croatoan virus-“

Dean cut in with a frown. “Like when Zachariah sent me to the future?”

“Zachariah sent you to the future?” She gaped at Dean—wrapped in a fuzzy blanket he’d forced around her shoulders—and he sighed.

“Sorry, Princess, thought I told you-“

“No, you didn’t-“

“Dean got sent to 2014.” Cas said, and Dean was going to have to get him a gift for taking that bullet. “Croatoan had wiped out much of humanity, by causing them to kill each other, and Lucifer had won. Without Pestilence on the front lines that outcome may be delayed, but demons are not idiots. They will be able to finish what Pestilence started.”

“Great.” Dean ran a hand over his face, and the rings were fucking taunting him on the table. Unable to open the door with only three, unable to just grab Lucifer when the door did open. “So we got a game plan to stop the murder plague?”

Cas shrugged. “Imprison Lucifer.”

“By what, asking him nicely?” 

“I- I have an idea.” Sam cleared his throat, and when Dean looked to him, he seemed almost guilty. Dean didn’t trust it. “I can’t think of anything better, and it’s- it feels fair.”

“Fair?” She was frowning, and Sam gave her an almost apologetic smile.

“I’ll let Lucifer in. Then jump into the cage before he can take over my body.”

There was a high ringing in Dean’s ears again. He needed to have a serious conversation with the people he loved about trying to kill him with stupid fucking ideas. “No.”

“Dean, I don’t like it either-“

“I don’t just not like it, Sammy.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “It’s fucking insane. Batshit. What if Lucifer gets the jump on you first? What if you can’t hit eject, and now you’re stuck in the cage-“

“He will be stuck in the cage.” Cas muttered, glancing to Her. “There is no external eject button.”

The color drained slightly from Her face. “What happens if Michael and Lucifer don’t get their vessels. Are they weaker?”

“Yes.” Cas sighed. “But we already know Michael has a backup plan. And I doubt Lucifer will want to fight in his current vessel, but he doesn’t need to. If he waits Michael out, he wins.”

“So we won’t wait him out, he’ll take me and then we can trap him-“

“Sam.” Dean snapped. “We’re not fucking doing that, so stop suggesting it-“

“But-“ Sam looked to Her, and said Her name in pleading tone. “Please, it’s the only way-“

She shook He head. “I- I don’t know. It’s a big risk to take, if we don’t know it will work-“

“It will work-“

“But Dean’s right.” She’d drawn Her knees up to her chest, rubbing at her wrists as she spoke. She was distressed. “What if it doesn’t work, Sam. Then you’re stuck with Lucifer and no way out, and Dean- The future you saw-“

“Lucifer had Sam.” He muttered. “Zachariah sent me there to show me what would happen if I didn’t say yes.”

“Where is Zachariah-“

“I smashed him.” Dean grunted, narrowing his eyes at Sam. “Don’t try to change what we’re talking about, Sammy, you’re not letting Lucifer ride you like a prize pony, and that’s it.”

“But-“

“No but. I said no to Michael, you say no to Lucifer, that’s how this fucking works-“

“They’re just going to try and take Adam-“

“Then we’ll keep him here. And if you don’t stop talking crazy-“

“I could do it, Dean.” Sam stared at the floor, his voice quieter than Dean had heard it in a long time. “I know you don’t want me going to hell, but you did the same for me-“

“That’s-“

“And I started this.” Sam looked up to Her. “I want to finish it. Please.”

She swallowed, Her eyes darting to Dean’s, then Cas’. And they lingered on Cas. Like they were having a silent conversation Dean didn’t get to be a part of, and he wasn’t sure what the hell they were up to, but he didn’t like it. 

“There has to be another way, Sam.” She whispered, and Sam’s face fell. “I don’t think you should do it.”

Sam sighed, and looked back to the rings. “Just- can you think about it? Until we get the Death ring?”

She took a stuttering breath, and nodded. “Fine. I, um- I’m having trouble with the tracking spell, but I’ll get it soon. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Dean didn’t think there was shit to talk about. He wasn’t going to let Sammy just jump into Hell, when there had to be another way. She could kill Lucifer. Death could kill Lucifer. Fuck, Cas could kill Lucifer if She gave him another dose of steroids, like Heaven. They’d figure out another way. 

They just had to find Death first. 

She’d been staying up all night again. They’d watch TV on the couch, Cas frowning at it like it was something to study, Sam pouring over a book at the table, and Her at Dean’s side on the couch, scribbling down notes so fast Dean wasn’t sure how Her hands weren’t getting tired. Bobby would grumble that he was going to bed, Adam would drift in and out of the room like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to be, and She’d just keep writing. Dean would have to pull Her to her feet, when it hit one in the morning and she wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. Then She’d just sit on the bed, Dean’s head pressed near Her thigh as he tried to sleep, and wouldn’t lie down until Dean pried the pencil from Her hands and tugged the covers over Her body. 

He was worried about Her. She was acting like this started and ended with Her, when she was refusing to choose a side. She and Cas kept fucking whispering, and She’d been looking at a lot of books on angels, and Dean knew Her.

Knew when She was planning something fucking stupid. 

“You’re not gonna use your, y’know.” Dean leaned down to whisper in Her ear, after almost a week of no progress on finding Death. “Thingy.”

She blinked up at him in the dark, and She was always so fucking beautiful. “My thingy?”

“Yeah. Your zap,” He poked Her side, and tried not to grin at Her high squeak. “The magic.”

She whacked his chest, before settling right back into his side and shaking Her head, twisting the skin of Her finger. “No. I’m not.”

Lie. 

That was a fucking lie. And Dean didn’t know how to call Her on it, but he needed to figure it out. How to tell Her that, whatever She was up to, it was probably as insane as Sam’s plan. Maybe more insane. And She couldn’t just pull something without at least warning Dean, because Sam was still pushing the let Lucifer in plan, and if he lost either one of them, Dean was going to go insane. 

But they weren’t making any progress. Cas said they had time, but it couldn’t be that much. They’d gone over Sam and Cas’ fight with Pestilence—he’d tried to make them sick, had whined about humans, and Cas had cut his finger off, nothing special—about a million times in the hope it would give them ideas about Death, or a bigger picture of Lucifer’s plan, but it hadn’t. And they were stuck right where they’d started. Holed up in Bobby’s cabin with only a few small cases, trying to figure out how to stop the end of the freaking world and keeping Adam away from Michael.

“Can you shoot an archangel?” Adam asked, and Dean shook his head, reloading his shotgun.

“Not in a way that’s gonna do anything.” He muttered. “But you can piss them off, if you want.”

Adam nodded, glancing down to his own gun. “So there are no protections?”

“Not for you and me, other than telling the douchebags to take a hike.” 

“How come they’re not, like- Burning down the house, then? If they’re that desperate for us.”

Dean grunted Her name, and something to the right of his heart whined. She was in the freaking library with Cas. She was fine. “Told you, she’s warded the whole property. Nothing’s getting in that she doesn’t open the door for.”

“Oh.” Dean glanced over, and Adam was blushing. “She’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.” He jerked his head to the lined-up beer bottles. “Shoot.”

He didn’t want to talk about how cool She was with Adam. Not when the poor kid had been making heart eyes at Her all week, and Dean had been trying to figure out if now was a bad time to try kissing Her again, every single waking moment. It probably was. Any time right before the end of the world was, She was still processing the Bride of God thing, and Raphael hadn’t been helpful in telling them about her destiny at all. All they knew was that She didn’t seem to have a 100% approval rating with archangels, she could be more, and God was alive. 

Dean hadn’t loved how certainly She’d said that. He needed to figure out how to ask Her about that, too. As well as what the hell She was planning, and how to talk her out of it without caving, and—if She got the choice, and God returned—She wouldn’t just want to not marry God, but maybe stay with Dean-

“How did you guys meet her?” Adam cut through Dean’s thoughts, and none of the bottles had been shot. 

“Case we worked in 2000. Then we just kept running into each other, and now we’re here.”

Adam frowned. “But isn’t she Bobby’s daughter-“

“Adopted.” Dean muttered. “It’s complicated. The bottles-“

“And she’s, uh- Just your friend-“

“Adam.” Dean snapped. “Shoot the fuckin’ bottles.”

Adam swallowed, and obeyed. He was an alright shot, but getting better by the day. He had asked if She could teach him how to shoot, instead of Dean, but She’d just shaken Her head and mumbled that she didn’t use a gun.

And Adam had a crush. Which was fine. It was a weird, intense crush that didn’t seem to let Adam notice how She was always next to Dean, but it was just a crush. Dean couldn’t be pissed about a crush. Not on Her. She was beautiful and smart and funny, and sweet in strange, small ways that he’d never really understand. Even when She was up until three in the morning—writing and reading in bed, swatting Dean’s hand away whenever he tried to get Her to sleep—She kept quiet so he could rest. And when Dean would roll around with a grunt, Her fingers would tangle into his hair, and he’d feel like a dog again. She kept getting all his favorite foods when She and Sam did their grocery runs. She always sat with him while he worked on Baby and the Firebird.

“You never named him, y’know-“

“I did, actually.” She was sat on the hood of Baby, parked across from the Firebird as Dean ran his maintenance. “I just haven’t told you yet.”

Dean raised his brows. “You gonna tell me, sweetheart?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Pretty shit surprise-“

“That’s what you think.”

Dean snorted. “That is what I think. And you gotta tell me, Princess, it’s not fair to just tease like that.”

“I think I’ll tell you whenever I want.” She shrugged, leaning forward with a bright, pretty smile. “But you’ll like it.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, you will.” She glanced to Dean’s grease-stained hands. “Do you want gloves, De? It’s cold-“

He shook his head. “I’m fine. But if you gotta go inside-“

“I’m good here.” She said it like it was the plain, simple truth. She was good here. With Dean. 

So he wouldn’t let Her down. And She was awesome, all the time, so Dean would claw himself apart to be worthy of that. He couldn’t be God, but he could buy Her all the root beers in the world, and make Her breakfast, and sit with Her while she did Her research. Soothing Her when she had nightmare. Pretending that the walls weren’t closing in on all of them, as they got closer to finding Death, and didn’t have a plan to get Lucifer in the cage. 

“I can’t get it.” She glared at all Her notes on the kitchen table, shaking Her head. “Dean, I- I can’t get it-“

“Hey.” He grabbed Her hand, and She looked to him with big, glossy eyes. “You’ll get it. You need to go for a drive?”

She nodded weakly. “Or- Maybe a walk-“

“I could go for a walk.” Adam jumped in, his eyes shooting up from the lore book in his lap. She and Sam had been helping him catch up on everything, and he was taking well to it, but son of a bitch, Dean didn’t want Her to go on a walk with him. Not because of insane reason like jealousy, but the kid didn’t know how to take care of Her. How to defend Her if angels started raining down from the sky. If She started having a freak out, She’d need Dean-

“Okay.” She gave Adam a small smile, squeezing Dean’s hand three times as She stood up. “Let’s go.”

Dean gave Adam a small nod as they passed him, and he had to be fine with it. He had no real reason not to be. She’d be fine, Adam would be fine, and it wasn’t like they were storming a vamp nest. She was just being kind, and letting Adam go for a walk with Her. Probably just around the yard. Dean wouldn’t lose more family by letting that happen. 

And Sam kept pushing the Lucifer idea, in the car and the morning and every damn second of peace Dean tried to get. Bobby had put them on ingredient gathering for Her spell—Sam and Dean found them, Cas ran the errand—and Sam wouldn’t stop bringing it up. All while Adam was still trying hit on Her, and Dean had to herd Her away for the ingredient work.

She was already doing everything. She didn’t need to do more. Dean couldn’t take Her hurting herself while Sammy was trying to fucking die. She—by some miracle—gave it up. And Cas was able to sweep up all Her ingredients in a night, so the moment She got it, they’d be set. Then a whole new issue would arise, but that was a problem for after. 

She and Cas had been whispering. A lot. Sam and Dean left for two days, doing demon hunt a town over, and when they came back Adam was reading a book in the living room, Bobby was cleaning his guns, and She and Cas were talking in low voices in the kitchen. Sam shot Dean a worried look, and Dean sighed. He didn’t know what the hell to do about that. They were probably just talking about the Death spell. 

Probably. 

Son of a bitch, Dean hoped they were just talking about the Death spell.

Maybe Cas was helping with it, and they’d get this over with sooner, and She’d start sleeping properly again. Dean could see the bags getting heavier under Her eyes. She’d been eating less again, and all Her sleep had been nightmares he had to hold Her through—or, over the past nights, talk Her down from over the phone—and it was splitting him in half. She was going outside less, as well. Just a few walks with Adam, because the kid kept asking Her, and midnight drives with Dean. Every other moment had been research, teaching Adam about the lore, and whispering with Cas. 

Dean said Her name, and She looked up at him with a wide, blinding smile. She looked exhausted. “Hey, Princess.”

“Hi,” Her smile didn’t waver as She glanced to Sam. “You guys-“

“One piece.” Dean dropped in the chair at Her side, and he might have gotten away with carrying Her out of the room for research, but carrying Her to bed with it was barely dusk was going to get him stabbed. “You eat yet, sweetheart?”

“She had yogurt.” Cas said, and Dean frowned.

“You make her eat the yogurt, dude?”

“Don’t answer that.” She gave Cas a firm look, and his mouth snapped shut, but Dean understood what that meant.

“Goddamnit,” he said Her name with glare, and She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Fuck off, Winchester, you’re not my dad.”

Sam snorted, and Dean shot him a glare. 

“Shut your face, Sammy-“

“I didn’t say anything, dude.” Sam raised his hands, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I was just going to ask what they did while we were gone-“

“Death spell.” Cas said, and Dean narrowed his eyes. Cas had said that too damn fast. And Dean opened his mouth to push it, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Good,” Bobby grunted, wheeling into the kitchen. “You four travel like gazelle, you know that?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“I find one of ya idjits, the other three ain’t gonna be far behind.” Bobby stopped at the head of the table, giving Her a firm look as he said Her name. “No knives at the dinner table.”

She frowned. “But-“

“No but. We’re eatin’ dinner now, together.”

Cas cleared his throat. “I don’t need to eat-“

“Then you can shove it down your throat and play pretend like it matters. I’m a cripple, Cas, let me have one dinner where none of us are tryin’ to run away.”

They all exchanged quick looks—Dean liked the idea, liked the thought of getting to sit with Her for a family dinner, even if it was forced, and everyone seeing his hand in Her’s or his arms around Her chair or something—and didn’t fight it. They didn’t know how many more times they’d get a chance to sit there, with the end of the world. With Cas still on the angel blacklist, Sam gunning to jump in the cage, and Her whole Bride of God thing. 

None of them had been talking about that. 

They didn’t know how. And God wasn’t going to just swoop down and take Her, so it couldn’t be the focus right now. 

Dean really hoped God wouldn’t swoop down and take Her. 

But it was a thought stuck to the back of his brain, now. All the time. He could defend Her from demons and monsters, and he’d bleed to keep Her from God, but if they guy just appeared and grabbed Her, Dean didn’t know what kind of line he’d be able to hold. Same as if Sammy decided to say yes to Lucifer, without any heads up, Dean wouldn’t be able top stop it. Then he’d lose both of them. And he couldn’t fully enjoy the mock family dinner, because all he could think about was how he didn’t know how this ended. 

It felt like they were building up to a high, horrible drop. Like the rollercoaster he’d taken Sammy on when they were kids, hovering right at the edge of a fall they couldn’t even see with no way out but down. Sam was right. Dean didn’t have a better idea to get Lucifer in the cage. And even if that worked, and they stopped the whole apocalypse train from leaving the station, he’d have lost Sam. His one job was keeping Sam safe. Keeping his family together, and fucking safe.

They were all safe and together now. Adam was still a little stiff—as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be here—but he was still making conversation, telling stories about high school and asking them all—mostly Her—nervous questions about their own lives. Cas was answering all Her questions about history, and Sam and Bobby had started to jump in with their own. She and Sammy were nerding out about some science museum that Dean had taken Sammy to as a kid, and she’d visited when She was sixteen and hunting alone. Bobby rolled his eyes and grumbled about her illegally driving, and she just hummed who taught me how to drive, old man. 

Dean wanted to enjoy it. To not feel like he was holding something that was about to break. But there was a sort feeling in his gut, and that deep, cold fear creeping back over his bones. 

And he couldn’t sleep that night. All the was running through his head was a bunch of goddamn what ifs.

What if he let Sam jump, and lost him. What if, after he lost Sam, God swooped down and tore Her from Dean’s arm. What if the world ended, and God took Her anyway. What if God was always going to take Her. And this wasn’t like the vessel deal, where they could say no.

What if, one day, Dean woke up and She was just fucking gone.

So he couldn’t sleep. She’d passed out, but Dean had never felt more wired. He just watched Her, slumped against his body and molded so perfectly against him, and tried to reason how God could ever hold Her better than this. She fit too damn well with Dean. It didn’t matter how God had made Her, Dean got Her. Even when he didn’t understand Her, Dean got Her. He was Her shadow. He loved Her. If he could, he would have made the world for Her too, but he wouldn’t have made it like God. He would’ve made it without pain.

And he wished he could take all Her pain. Instead of just running and hiding like a fucking pussy, making Her deal with it herself.

But he couldn’t.

So when She started to mumble, and the little wrinkle formed on Her brow, Dean cradled Her in his arms. He wasn’t God.

He’d never leave Her to hurt alone. 

She tried to claw out of his arms. Pushed at his chest as a small, distressed noise left Her throat, and the world started go a little brighter without a single light on in the room. But Dean just held Her. Not tighter—he didn’t want to hurt Her, or make Her more frantic—but firmly. And when Her eyes shot open with a choked scream, silver seeming to fade quick from Her pupils as She writhed and scratched at his chest, Dean didn’t move. He just caught Her hand and squeezed it three times, because nothing was okay, but She was safe. They’d spent the time after dinner tracking omen after omen, and the end of the world drew closer with every breath, but right now, She going to be okay.

“I’ve got you, Princess.” He moved Her carefully into his lap, and She melted quick.

Broken sobs shook Her body as she wrapped around Dean, and he tried not think about how this was going to work into his own nightmares.

Something would claw Her out of his hold, She’d vanish up into the sky, and the only proof Dean would have that She ever existed at was an empty room, and pile of notebooks he couldn’t read. He’d have to tell Bobby. Tell Sammy, if he was still with them. Then either keep sleeping in Her room, or find a new one and move on, but he’d never be able to move on. He loved her, and She didn’t want to leave him, but what if God showed Her paradise and she did chose to leave him-

“Dean?” She whispered, Her words muffled in his shirt. “Am I- Did I hurt-“

“I’m fine,” he murmured. She wasn’t allowed to think She could hurt him. Ever. “You’re okay. Just a nightmare.”

She hummed, Her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah.”

“Oh- Okay.” There was a beat of silence, then- “I don’t want to go.”

Dean frowned down at Her. “Go where?”

“Back.” Her gaze titled up to meet his, and Her eyes were so soft and bright and sad. Glossed with tears and wide in the dark, and Dean sort of felt like he was drowning. “To Heaven. I- I don’t want to be one of them, Dean, I don’t want to go-“

“Hey.” He cupped Her face, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, Princess-“

“But what if he comes.” 

She’d been thinking about it too. And it didn’t make Dean feel better. It only made the cold dread drop right into that dark pit, splitting it wider and wider open. It would slice him in two, if She left. If the dread kept growing, and then he lost Her. 

“He’s going to come, De.” She whispered, planting Her hands on his chest as she sat up. “He- He watches me. I’ve always felt him watching me- And I don’t wanna go-“

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Dean wrapped himself a little tighter around Her. “He, uh- He watching right now?”

She shook Her head. “The windows are closed.”

The windows. And the curtains in every motel, for years. And She didn’t like going outside, and son of a bitch-

“He’s in the sky.” She dropped Her face down to Dean’s neck, and his hand shot up to tangle in Her hair. “He- He doesn’t come inside, and I don’t know why, but- He’s angry with me. I can feel it, and- He wants me to leave but I don’t want to-“

“Princess-“

“I don’t want to leave you, Dean.” She mumbled, and he froze. “I- I never want to leave you, but he- He keeps- I don’t want to leave-“

“So you’re not gonna. We’ll keep you safe-“

“It’s not up to you.” Her voice was so soft, and the dread grew. “He’s just waiting. And watching. But it’s- I don’t think I get to choose, and when he- When- I don’t want to go, De.” She held him a little tighter. “I don’t wanna go.”

Dean felt like his heart was trying to strain out of his chest. He was goddamn useless. He was supposed to protect Her, to make sure nothing hurt Her, but she said it wasn’t up to him. Or Her. 

He should’ve pushed Raphael for more answers. For what the Hell this meant, and how it all lined up. If it was something Dean could kill, or She just needed to be defended. If it was like a demon deal She didn’t choose to make, or a trade they could barter for. Dean could go in Her place, if God was just looking for a human. They could get God a freakin’ dog, if this was about companionship. Or one of those sex dolls, if that was about that-

He felt sort of sick.

Just thinking about Her with anyone had always made something to the left of his heart sour and foul. Thinking of God doing that, when She was crying in his arms-

Not now. She needed Dean here, holding Her. He’d deal with that later. 

Her breathing had steadied, but She wasn’t falling back asleep. She was just tracing patterns on Dean’s forearm in the dark, and he just watched Her in his arms. When She wanted to talk, she would, and he-

“Dean.” She angled Her face to his, Her eyes wide, and he frowned. “I think I’ve got it.”

 “Got-“

“Death.”

Dean blinked, and he wasn’t fast enough to pull Her back to bed, when She crawled out of his arms. This was something that could wait for morning, when they could make a game plan, and She hadn’t just been sobbing ten minutes ago.

“Princess-“

“It’ll take a few hours to finish.” She was cross-legged on the floor, all the ingredients spread out around Her as she worked. “Can you-“ She swallowed. “Please sit with me?”

Dean sighed, and nodded. It was the least he could do, because he couldn’t do much. And he fucking hated it. The itch over his skin of just sitting there as She mixed everything together and started talking in Enochian, before grabbing Her blade and passing it to Dean. She held Her palm open to him, a silent request on Her face, and the dread was starting to fester.

He muttered Her name, and She shook Her head.

“I raised him.” She whispered. “It will work. And the cut needs to go right over the scar, but I don’t think I can get the angle. Please.”

Dean swallowed down some bile, and gave a short nod. He had to. She’d asked him to. 

He still had never felt like such a horrid fucking lowlife as when he sliced Her hand open, and She made a small sound of pain.

“I’m-“

“It’s okay.” She drew Her hand back, and let the blood fall over the fancy bone of an extinct animal Cas had found. “It’ll take a few hours, then it should be like- sort of a compass. Can you-“

Dean nodded, and ran to grab the stitch kit. She didn’t fight it, when he helped Her to sit on the edge of the mattress, and dabbed the rubbing alcohol on Her hand. “Not deep enough for stitches.” He muttered, and She hummed. 

He glanced up, and found Her watching him. Shiny hair falling over Her face and blinding eyes, something gentle in Her face that was rare to see. The was the same position he’d kissed Her in, this first time. 

He wanted to kiss Her now. To show Her, best he could, that he didn’t want to leave Her either.

And he didn’t know how to say it right.

He’d fuck it up.

He’d make it sound like he had a claim to Her instead of God, or She owed him to stay after everything they’d been through. Like Paradise wasn’t something She was worthy of, when he didn’t know anyone who deserved it more. He’d been barely better than a demon in hell, and She’d been made for fucking Heaven, but She was still here with him.

But Dean was good at doing things.

And She was so close, and She smelled so good, and Her breath was hitched and lips parted and-

Fuck it. 

He tugged Her carefully down, winding his fingers between Her’s and starting soft. Just a light press of their lips together, telling Her that he was here. Even when it hurt, Dean was here. 

She let out the sweetest little gasp, Her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, then kissed him back. 

She was kissing him back.

Her lips were soft and already a little swollen from chewing and crying, but goddamnit, they fit perfectly against Dean’s. And the kiss was a slow and unhurried, letting Dean taste every bit of salt and fruit on Her lips and his hands to wander. Skimming right under Her shirt and savoring Her small shiver. How She angled Her head back to try and carefully push his tongue between Her lips. 

She opened for him in a second, then moaned. Right down his fucking throat, with Her fingers tugging at his hair when he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled Her into his lap, without ever breaking the kiss. Dean was getting dizzy from the high of Her skin—soft and warm and so goddamn responsive, it was going to drive him insane—and body pressed right to his, and She’d started to squirm, and-

They broke apart with ragged breaths, their brows pressed together, and She let out a high, breathy giggle.

“Good?” He rasped, because he had to check, and She nodded.

“Good, De. I…“ Her lips ghosted over his as She trailed off, her eyes fluttering in that way that make his cock twitch.

She squeezed his hand three times, and Dean dragged Her wounded hand up to kiss Her knuckles, and neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Now wasn’t the time to have the Conversation, either. 

So She curled into his side, Dean kissed the top of Her head. He watched the bone on the floor as the night crept on, and drool began to fall from Her lips. He shifted Her to lay down on the bed, moving the hair from Her face, and let out a long, slow sigh. 

He was never going to be worthy of Her. Born in the mud, likely going to die in the mud, too. Dean was selfish. He knew he was selfish. The angels and demons had spent years warning them to stop letting Her fight, the Horsemen had said this wasn’t Her fight, but he’d dragged Her into it because he’d never wanted to lose Her. And now he was going to lose Her no matter what. She was going to do all the work to save their asses, and Sammy was going to try and take a bullet he didn’t deserve, and Dean was going to do jack fucking shit. 

Dad had been right. He was just a weapon, and he wasn’t even an effective one. All that skill and talent to hurt the people he hated and protect the ones he loved, and She was in pain, and he was on the edge of losing Sam. He was nothing. 

But he still loved Her. And She might be designed for people to love and want Her, but Dean loved Her best. He knew Her. He’d do anything for Her. 

Including, when the bone started to glow, one end turning black and spinning on the ground to angle East, something that was going to get him yelled at. But he was sick of just sitting here. Of making Her do everything, when this wasn’t Her fight. And it was like Pestilence. Dean knew She had nightmares about Death. He was just keeping Her from having more.

And She was going to kill him. Bobby was going to kill. Hell, Cas was going to kill him. 

But he was doing it anyway.

He had to.

The bone stayed on Baby’s dash for the entirety of the drive. Dean’s phone started lighting up in Iowa, but he didn’t look at the messages. Sammy might trace the call with all his nerd shit, and send Cas to come grab him. And if it was Her, She’d yell at him for doing the exact thing he always got pissed at Her for doing. But it was different. Dean had a solid plan of get the ring, even if he had to make another deal, and She had other ways to help. Dean was keeping them all out of the line of fire. It was Death, they didn’t know what the hell he was capable of, and every time She’d faced off with a horseman She’d come out sobbing and clinging to Dean in the dark.

The calls died down when he got to Illinois, the sun long over his head. He’d apologize. He’d come back with the ring, and let Bobby and Sam shout at him, let Cas glare and say low words of disappointment, and let Her shove him and scream until she decided She was done. But Dean was keeping Her from more pain.

He’d rather have Her furious with him than not have Her at all. 

And the bone kept spinning, guiding him to Death, and Dean kept coming up with ways they be pissed, and ways he’d apologize. He’d be fine. His whole life had been jumping in front of bullets, then letting blows land on him for daring to protect the people he loved.

If the bullet was Death, he’d see if it stuck this time. And if it didn’t, he’d go back and pray they still wanted him around.

The bone wasn’t turning anymore. It was spinning around and around as Dean circled a block in Chicago, and it was angled towards a Church.

Dean knew this church.

He’d been dreaming about it lately.

A lot.

And the rain was coming down right so hard he was soaked the second he stepped out of the car, but it didn’t matter.

The second he stepped through the doors, he was dry as a bone. 

This had been a horrible idea. One of his worst. He should have brought Her—She’d raised Death, for Christ’s sake—or at least a bigger gun. His steps were echoing of the walls, his seeming to be the only living soul in the whole building.

But not the only person. 

Because sat in the very front row, the was a man. Thin, pale, weedy black hair. And Dean froze in the aisle, but it didn’t matter anyway.  

“Dean Winchester.” The man’s voice was cool. Measured. Dean didn’t think he was made of anything but the dread anymore. “You’re early. I appreciate that.”

“Uh,” Dean cleared his throat. Chicago was such a stupid place to die. “You haven’t killed me.”

“I admire your bravery.” Death shrugged. “You are less than a bit of dust, floating in the air, but you are a very brave and stupid piece of dust. And I would call you inconsequential, but for a piece of dust, you are quite important. By association, of course.”

“Because I’m Michael vessel?”

Death let out a dry laugh. “No. That is like calling the shoelaces of a toddler important. He will get other shoelaces. If fact, he may have already.”

Dean swallowed, and took a slow step forward. He really was a dumb piece of dust. “Then what?”

“Hm. I’d prefer you sit first, before we talk.”

“But-“

Death turned, and his face was sunken. Bored. Almost skeletal, his eyes locked onto Dean’s. “Sit.”

Dean nodded, and half scrambled down the rest of the aisle, before dropping on the pew at Death’s side. It was really fucking weird. Death turned back to the dais with a small nod and sigh, and Dean just waited. This didn’t feel like an icebreaker situation. 

“I supposed you’re here about the ring.”

“Uh,” Dean felt sort of light-headed. Maybe Death was just getting him slowly. “Yes.”

“I am willing to give it to you.”

He blinked. “What?”

Death sighed. “I will give you my ring. That is one of the reasons you are not dead. You are a piece of dust that can swirl up quite the hurricane, if I direct you on the right wind.”

“Can we, uh- Drop the dust thing-“

“No.” Death turned to him with another, painfully blank expression. “Lucifer has me in a bind, I would like the ropes cut free. By putting him back in the cage, you will be doing me a favor, and I will let you continue to breathe until your time comes to a bloody, natural end.”

“Putting him back?”

“Letting Sam go on with his little plan. Not doing anything selfish to stop it.”

Dean opened his mouth, and Death shook his head. 

“People will die, if he does not. It is that simple.”

“But-“

“There is no but. I give you the ring, Sam goes in the pit. If you find another way, you may explore it, but not at the cost of the war lost. Understood?”

Dean nodded, glancing down the ring on Death’s finger. “There are other ways, though? That might work.”

“Not for you, Dean.” Death sighed. “As I explained, you are less than dust.”

“You said I was important.” Dean pushed back, because he could never shut the fuck up. “By association.”

Death gave him another bored look, and said Her name. Dean’s hands curled into fists. He couldn’t sworn that outside, thunder clapped. 

“I don’t-“

“You are of quite some significance to her.” Death said carefully. “More than I think you can understand. Killing you would be… a poor decision.”

“You- you know about her-“

“Of course I know about her. I was there when God decided he wanted her. She will likely be there when I reap him.”

“Reap God?”

“One day, yes.”

Dean felt sick, as he whispered Her name. “Does she- One day-“

Death tilted his head. “I am not sure. But you have yet to answer my question. Will you take the ring, and do whatever it takes.”

“You said there was another way-“

“Not for you. Just as there will never be another way for you to keep your princess. Not with a gun, or a bargain. She is the Bride of God, among other things. It is not something she will be. Not something that can be replaced, or worked around.” Death gave him an almost pitying look. “I like her, Dean. If I am being honest, I would happily spend eternity with her. And I do not think he deserves her, but I did warn him. Now, the ring?”

Dean felt like he was drifting. He took the ring with a weak smile and nod, and he made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but he didn’t feel it. Death vanished, leaving Dean alone in the church, but he didn’t move for a long, weighted moment. 

No other ways. There were no other ways. 

Not to save Sammy. 

Not to keep Her. 

He checked his phone, before he started the drive back. It was a lot of missed calls from everyone, and a bunch of messages he didn’t bother to read. They’d tell him all that to his face when he got back. The only important one—not worrying about him or telling him to get back now—was at the top anyway.

Sam

Adam’s missing. Get back now.

New shoelaces. Backup plan.

Fuck. 

He drifted through the drive back, too. He brought the bone back—pissing Her off more by losing her magic bone didn’t seem like a good idea—and kept the ring in his pocket, trying not to think about any of it. He didn’t want to lose Sam. He’d promised Death he’d let the plan go forward, and that didn’t seem like a good promise to break. There was no way for Dean to keep Her, even if he didn’t see anything bright through the storm if it wasn’t Her. 

And the rain had cleared, but the sun had set. The clock on the dash read 1am, when he pulled into Bobby’s yard. And all the lights were off in the house, except for one. 

The lamp in the library. 

She just looked up at him. Nothing on Her face that he could read, not a single shout or scream. Only a heavy, exhausted expression and bright eyes tracking Dean’s movements around the room, as he shed his jacket and crossed the room. She wasn’t saying a single fucking word.

It was worse than shouting or hitting.

It was made of the dread. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly, dropping to his knees before Her. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch Her right now. “I trust you, Princess, and I woulda brought you with me, but Pestilence and Famine, those sons of bitches fucked you up, and-“ He didn’t know what he was saying. It was going to be the wrong thing. He couldn’t stop. “It fucking kills me, when you’re like that and I can’t do shit about it. But I got it. I got the ring. And I know you’re pissed, and you can kick my ass and I’ll sleep on the couch, but- I’m sorry.”

There was a long, horrid moment of silence, and he’d lost Her. She wouldn’t be in pain, but this had been the thing, the one that was always going to happen, and She’d leave, and Dean was never going to get to hold Her again-

“I thought you left.” She whispered, and Dean’s gaze shot up. “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

Son of a bitch. Dean could see it now. The red of Her eyes, the rattiness of Her hair and shine on Her cheeks, combined with the raw skin on Her wrists. 

She’d been crying.

Dean was never supposed to make Her cry.

“I didn’t leave-“

“You said we’d go together.” She cut him off with an almost pleading tone. “And I- I had a freakout last night, and I told you God’s watching me, and we-“ Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We kissed and I- I thought-“

Dean grabbed Her hands, rising up a little higher on his knees. “Look at me.”

She shook Her head, and they done this dance before. A lot.

Dean would keep doing it, as long as he got to keep touching Her. To brush the hair from Her face, take Her face between his hands, and angle Her gaze onto his. He’d do it forever.

“I’d never leave you, Princess.” He muttered, keeping his words low and firm. “I don’t give a shit that God’s watching you. I’m with you. All the way down.”

“Oh- okay.” She took a shaking breath. “I’d never make you sleep on the couch, De.”

He sighed. “You don’t gotta-“

“I couldn’t sleep.” She mumbled, Her gaze still locked onto his. “Needed you.”

Fuck.

Dean could be needed. He could nod, and carry Her to bed, mumbling a lot more apologies, because he was a piece of shit, but he was Her piece of shit. And once he was in bed, he changed fast and crawled into bed, because this wasn’t going to be his to keep, but he had it now. Her in his arms. Her face in his neck. 

And there had to be another way. Death said there wasn’t, but there always was. Maybe not for Dean, but for someone else, doing him a favor. There had to be another fucking way, because if the smell of fruit haunted him like this for the rest of his life, just out of his reach and crying for him to come save it from the tree, he’d drive himself mad. 

“I’m mad at you.” She grumbled against Dean’s shoulder, and he sighed.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Don’t ever fucking do that again.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She paused, Her arms wrapped around his torso, and he would fight for this. 

He loved Her. 

And if Dean was good at anything, it was breaking things for people he loved.

“De?”

He grunted, and She propped her chin on his shoulder. 

“Happy birthday.”

He let out a long breath, and took another stupid risk. It was his birthday, and the world was going to end, and She was looking at him so pretty in the dark, and-

Son of a bitch, he just wanted to be selfish. That was the only real reason. 

And it was worth it. Because he sat up carefully, until he was propped over Her on an elbow, and leaned down. Slotted his lips gently over Her’s and taking it lazy and slow, kissing Her just to kiss Her. To taste Her and know She was here and, for now, Dean’s. 

She let him. She fisted his shirt and pulled him deeper, until he was half on top of Her and he could hear only his heartbeat, and all those amazing sounds he was somehow allowed to pull from Her.

He didn’t pull away this time. Not fully. Dean kept his lips hovering over Her’s and folded his hand into Her’s, giving Her his best, widest, most come fucking love me, please, because I’ll love you until I don’t have a soul anymore, grin.

“Thanks, Princess.” He murmured, and he’d stay here forever. 

With Her. 

In the dark, as the end of the world drew closer, but the whole universe was in his arms, and he never wanted to let it go.

End Note: What a beautiful, rare win for their communication skills. Two whole kisses. They're going to be so normal about this.

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

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