#I worn out a bit recently. I have had an unfortunate string of nightmares ever since seeing my mother a few days ago!

[janebonbon]

Just a little warning that there will be an art stream tonight! I'm going to push it back to 8pm EST because I want to have time to unpack some delivered groceries!

[fidelismileslucem]

Know You Better

Slowly, Jack parsed through the thick file in his hands. He'd already memorized every detail between the manila folds, but it never hurt to re-review.

His new assignment was a wealthy vampire recognized for his generosity, his hand in destabilizing notorious slavery rings, and his relationship with the Queen herself. From what Jack had gathered, this 'Gabriel Reyes' was something of a confidant and adviser, and he felt it safe to say Reyes held a trusted friendship with her ladyship, one strong enough for her to come to his defense when accused of murder behind closed doors.

Evidence had recently surfaced that pointed to Reyes as the culprit behind an escalating string of murders, and the Queen, believing this to be an outside force attempting to frame Reyes, ordered an investigation.

That was part of Jack's job, determining whether or not this Reyes was a homicidal killer. The other part was keeping Reyes safe, as his personal bodyguard. If the Queen was right, that meant someone was targeting Reyes in a way that indicated they knew exactly who they were dealing with. A threat to Reyes' life would be imminent, and if he's innocent, it would be a tragic loss for both the Queen, and her kingdom.

Slavery rings were a well known cog in the machine of the Underground, and while they weren't polite topics to have over tea, everyone was aware of them. Feared them.

Men like Reyes had risen in direct and open opposition to them, and Reyes' property was symbolic, a beacon of hope for those freed and not. To lose that (during critical moves to bring the last of the rings to their knees, no less) would have repercussions that even Jack couldn't predict.

It was common knowledge that the village surrounding Reyes' mansion housed freed slaves, free to go wherever they wish, while given the option to stay under Reyes' protection in the village. The property was well warded and well guarded, and if the rumors of Reyes' abilities were to be believed, the man himself was as dangerous as they come. The promise of his protection alone would be enough to scare off any slavers trying to reclaim their property, while the rumors of it among those still trapped provided something something to believe in.

They needed Reyes now, more than ever, and Jack could only hope that Reyes was as innocent as the Queen believed him to be.  

Jack looked up from his folder and out the carriage window to the town passing by. It was a beautiful little place, small houses pressed tightly together with creeping vines edging over any surface within reach. The cobblestone streets were well worn and well tended, along with little gardens and planters scattered down the alleys and window ledges. If it weren't so late, Jack knew he would have seen the streets bustling with people, and the more he watched, the more it reminded him a little bit of home. As his thoughts started to drift, Jack caught his first glimpse of of Reyes' mansion through the trees.

This building two stories high, and matched the weathered look of the surrounding village. Dark, elegant accents of iron fought snaking foliage along the walls, and Jack's second thought, the first marveling at the gorgeous mansion, was how much of a nightmare this building was going to be to reinforce.

Jack regretted starting to count how many windows and access points he could see, and that didn't even include all of the ones he couldn't. He'd have to do a walk around the perimeter himself to see all of the vantage points one could use as a sniper, but he'd already noticed at least four. A crease formed between his brows as he counted three trees providing direct access to the second floor via branches.

All things he would have to address with his new charge.

Jack thumbed the small sketch of Gabriel Reyes, given to him in the file, and he tried not to think too hard about how many times he'd looked at the little photo. Reyes was... attractive. Dark, hooded eyes, with broad shoulders, and a jawline that Jack had caught himself staring at multiple times- all made the unprofessional side of Jack wish this wasn't a job. Gabriel Reyes was exactly the type Jack would ask out for drinks, and then some.

A soft sigh escaped Jack's lips as the carriage pulled to a stop at the front door, and a young elf dressed in a servant's uniform descended the steps. Jack tucked the picture back into the file, and he placed his derby hat back on his head. The file returned to his bag just as the door was opened for him, and it didn't go unnoticed by Jack that when he smiled at his greeter the pointed tips of his greeter's ears turned a bright red.

“Mr. Morrison?”

Jack nodded again, and the other man looked shyly away.

“Master Reyes has been expecting you,” he gestured for Jack to follow him, and as Jack stepped out he took a slow breath of misty, evening air.

“Could I get your name?” Jack asked as they ascended the stairs, and the servant blinked over at Jack in surprise.

“I... I'm Renneth, sir.”

“Thank you Renneth,” Jack smiled again, and Renneth quickly looked away.

Once inside Rennth took Jack's coat and hat, and he gestured to a waiting room off to the side, where Jack politely took a seat.

“Please wait here while I announce your arrival. I'll return shortly.”

Jack nodded as Renneth bowed politely and departed, and Jack watching him ascend a set of stairs to disappear down a hall on the second floor.

It took about an entire minute before Jack was on his feet and inspecting his surroundings. He'd never been the type to sit still for long, and the new setting only made the new body guard want to explore.

The interior of the manor was as rustic and charming as the exterior, with matching furniture, accents, and artwork. It was... homey, while still a representation of the vast wealth this man must have. It seemed Reyes was a collector, both in certain aesthetics as well as magic items, which were generally not cheap. Most magic items appeared as and ordinary object to those not magically inclined, but as Jack drifted past a vase holding a delicate bouquet of dried flowers, he felt a familiar hum resonate from it's surface. Jack had always had an affinity for sensing magic, and when he noticed two more items held the same vibration, and he wondered what the enchantments might be.

Jack was no wizard or fae, so he'd never be able to learn how to identify magic or it's intended purpose, but the fact that he could sense it at all was odd for a human. Having adoptive parents meant he'd never really know if he had any magical ancestry, but it was unlikely that he did. If there was magic in his blood, Jack should have shown signs by now, puberty was often a time for supernatural abilities to manifest, and after the super soldier serum trials it was obvious he was simply an oddity in his little talent.

A secret project among the Queen's guard and her secret service, the series of experimental injections were meant to enhance the abilities and magical properties of supernatural soldiers receiving the serum. Someone like Jack should not have been a potential candidate at all, but after hearing about the project and taking interest in it's focus- an elite team dedicated to serving the Queen more directly- Jack reached out to his superiors and personally requested to take part. He was a perfect candidate, as far as numbers went, acing every test and check the administrators put in place, and after a short debate over his eligibility, Jack was allowed his place.

Unfortunately, while the serum did cause Jack's body to change, he was stronger, faster, and had reflexes far above the average human, these weren't the types of changes the project was looking for. These were enhanced natural abilities, not magical. Jack was simply an 'exceptional human' – and he was quietly dismissed from the project. The actual results of the project were hidden from anyone not directly involved, and Jack was one of the few who knew the terrible fate he'd narrowly missed.

Despite his disappointment, and the general failure of the project, Jack's dedication to the Crown and his exceptional abilities, new and old, were quickly recognized. It wasn't long before Jack's knack for tactical planning, quick thinking, and ability to lead under pressure were noticed, and he was promoted to a position within the Queen's secret service.

Now Jack was here, babysitting a friend of the Queen. It felt odd to be doing this type of job, and he could think of a few coworkers who might tease him about this assignment. Jack knew he was here because he was trusted, he wouldn't be here if this wasn't important, but it did feel a little strange to be working on his own, without his team.

Jack was startled from his musings when he glanced down the next hall. At the very end stool an ethereal looking woman with dark skin, long brown hair, and an elegant green dress that did not belong to that of a servant. Jack blinked and he tried to remember the mention of a family in the file he'd been given, and he blinked again as her visage wavered. For a moment Jack wasn't sure what he was seeing was real. He gave a small wave and took a step down the hall, only to be stopped by a familiar, and gently frantic voice.

“Mr. Morrison – sir!”

Jack turned to see a flustered Renneth rushing towards him, and when Jack glanced back down the hall the young woman was gone.

“Please sir, I-I didn't know where you'd gone! I'm to bring you up to M- ma- Lord – Lord Reyes' study. Please follow me.”

It surprised Jack that he wasn't scolded for his wandering, but not finding Jack where Renneth had left him had obviously upset the young man, and Jack found himself feeling a little guilty.

“Of course, lead the way Renneth. I have a bad habit of jumping right into work, I'm sorry.”

The servant nodded, Jack's apology seemed to settle his nerves, and he led Jack up the stairs to second floor.

“Can I ask you something Renneth?” Jack asked as they walked. “I wasn't aware there was a lady of the house, who is she?” Jack took silent notes of each little improvement he'd want to make to the security of this particular hallway.

“Excuse me, sir- but there is no lady of the house. L-Lord Reyes has no family, he lives here alone, outside from those of us who work here.”

Jack's brow furrowed but he said nothing more about it. What he'd seen earlier must have been a trick of the light, a result of a long day of travel.

It wasn't long before they were standing in front of the door to the study, and Jack adjusted his suit jacket and vest before thanking Renneth. The elf blushed when addressed and bowed politely before he scurried off down the hall.

He must be new.

Jack mused before he let himself into the study. Once inside he closed the door quietly behind him, and turned to his new employer with one of his most charming smiles.

“Captain Jack Morrison, at your service, Lord Reyes,” he offered the other a small bow before straightening up to face the start of his new assignment.

[leechfluff]

Transformation (2/2)

Part 1

Content Alert For - Stuffing (aftermath), transformation, body horror, vague hints to blood drinking, mild belly kink, hurt with comfort, very mild whump, gagging (no vomit), hints to a past abusive relationship.

Note- I plan on doing way more with these characters but this is the end part of their first story. Please feel free to send in asks for my OC's at anytime or to ask me anything! I'd love some ideas for drawing them.

Cardinal cursed at the lock, jiggling the key until it finally gave and let them cross into the dark room. It was messy, but not overly so. The desk (as usual) being the focal point, covered in its usual clutter of pens, paper and coffee cups.

They entered the kitchen, not bothering to hit any of the lights on the way through. The light was unnecessary, their vision worked better in the dark than in the light if they were to tell the truth. As they bent over to put the container of soup into the fridge, their stomach gave out an unhappy grumble.

"Oh hush." Cardinal mumbled in response, rubbing at the taught skin in an attempt to quiet it down and wishing they had thought to wear a hoodie rather than the snug T-Shirt. Really, they'd barely even fed. Just enough that they wouldn't have to worry about it. Still, their stomach stuck out unhappily and complained at any sudden movements. It would be an excuse to steal one of Grace's hoodies, something soft and warm.

The young vampire was brought out of their thoughts by a loud thud from Grace's bedroom. Followed by crashing and more thudding, like furniture being knocked over. Cardinal froze, listening up at the rapid heart beat pounding overhead.

It was louder than it should have been, faster too. The most concerning thing however was the sound of claws on wood. A fact that was especially upsetting considering Grace didn’t have any pets, especially nothing that large.

Cardinal crept up the stairs, not even breathing as the sound of breaking glass carried through the home. The door was closed tight, and no light shone from underneath. The scrabbling noise increased, it sounded like the claws were scraping drywall now.

In a single, fluid, movement Cardinal wrenched the door open before sliding in and slamming it behind them. Whatever they had been expecting, the large wolf escaping through the (now broken) window left them at somewhat of a loss for words. There was no sign of Grace, and the animal had clearly not been dragging her with it.

There was no evidence of a struggle, no blood on the sheets, and the air smelled strongly of Grace albeit sharper than Cardinal ever remembered it being. The dresser had been knocked over in the creature's (in her) attempts to escape. It was apparent nothing had entered or exited the room recently other than the concerned vampire.

The pieces fit together in an unfortunate manner, making Cardinal groan in dread. This… wasn't how they had ever wanted to introduce their girlfriend into this world but it was happening regardless. Time to minimize the damage, at least to Grace anyway. 

--------

The first thing Grace did when she woke up was groan.

Everything hurt. Her joints cracked and popped as she stirred and her muscles complained. Her head pounded in a way reminiscent of a hangover, but worse in it's own special way.

Potentially topping the migraine however, was the cramping pain coming from her stomach.

"Easy, I don't know exactly what you did but I reckon you feel pretty bad right now"

It was Cardinal, in a voice as smooth as honey. Soothing the headache to a degree. 

Grace struggled against the blanket laid over her, feverishly trying to get up.

"Hey, just lie down. Please, Grace. Just lie back down."

She did, that sticky-sweet voice drawing her in. The blanket was pulled back, leaving a sheet to cover her.

A sheet that was the only thing covering her naked body.

"I'm going to grab you some clothes and help you get them on, ok?"

The voice was less sticky now, more recognizable. Once again Grace felt acutely aware of the heavy, painful feeling in her stomach. A feeling accentuated by a prolonged groan.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open. Cardinal was holding a tshirt and shorts, an older outfit Grace usually wore when sleeping. Their hair was wild, sticking up all over and falling in their eyes. Their dark shirt was ripped and muddy and their pants were much the same way. It was a simple outfit that Grace didn't think she'd ever seen worn before on the petite figure. 

"Wha' happened to ya shirt?"

Grace didn't even register how bad her mouth tasted until she opened it. Coppery and foul, with a touch of something gone off.

That was the breaking point and she bolted upright despite her painful stomach and leaned off the bed as she retched.

And retched.

And try as she might nothing came up but strings of saliva for her efforts.

A cool hand rested on one shoulder and supported her until it ended.

"I'm sorry. God- just- just lean back. Oh God" 

Grace hadn't even realized she had her arms cradled around her stomach. What was typically fairly average and flat was stretched out painfully. Hard and round, it had expanded outwards a significant amount and with every threatening gurgle she felt as though she was going to vomit.

But it never happened.

The cool hands pulled her back until she was no longer hanging off the bed. Hands pulling her shirt over her head as she numbly complied by lifting her arms gently. The soft shirt was still baggy around her shoulders and chest but was just barely snug around the mysterious belly. Every movement of her midsection left her panting on the verge of gagging as she worked with her partner to get the shirt on.

Cardinal leaned her back onto the bed before lying beside her, on top of the sheets that covered Grace's bare legs. Her stomach let out a long gurgle in protest of the movement and a pale hand reached tentatively for it, pausing before gently rubbing it. The motion was painful as first, eliciting groans both from Grace and her tortured stomach. Soon however, the pressure seemed to lessen and Grace belched wetly. The taste almost brought on another retching fit, but the slight decrease in pressure and the relief it brought helped immensely.

"What…" Grace coughed, and held a hand to her swollen midsection.

"I…" Cardinal froze. Their voice was soft as they stammered, "What do you- um. You…" 

They took a deep breath.

"You might be a, uh…"

"Werewolf?" Grace croaked out.

Cardinal shifted their body weight suddenly.

"How did you even know to guess that?"

"Had an ex-boyfriend who bragged... well it was threats really but I thought he was full of shit. Not to say he wasn’t-" she burped again, less satisfying this time but it helped "Just not about that. I guess."

"How much do you know?"

"Not much." Grace admitted. "I thought he was trying to be funny, then I thought it was annoying when he threatened me with it. He called me last month all pissy and angry. I told myself that the nightmares I had that night were coincidental. That it didn’t mean anything, just my subconscious picking up on his claims."

Another burp, more relief and unbelievably her brain presented the idea of actually trying to go get something to eat. An idea that made Grace almost want to weep.

Instead, she curled up as Cardinal lay still and silent at her back. Soon she was asleep again.

-----

This time when Grace woke up she could move. She felt… good actually. Really good. Her stomach still had a small paunch to it but nothing like the painful, heavy lump she had woken up to. 

The smell of coconut curry soup wafted through the open door, and Grace was on the verge of drooling as she pulled on her shorts and hurried towards the kitchen. Trying hard not to run down the stairs and trip in her haste she stuck a head around the corner into the kitchen

Cardinal was standing there, with an amused expression. 

"Glad to know you feel a bit better."

Grace nodded as she grabbed the bowl of soup sitting on the counter, barely even bothering with the spoon. It didn't fully end the ravenous hunger, but gave her room to think with a clearer head. 

"Yeah, I do." She glanced around the kitchen hoping to spot some more but was out of luck. The rest of the soup must have been in the fridge still 

"God. This is insane. I don't think I've ever been so hungry in my goddamn life and considering this morning I really shouldn't be."

"I think it's just part of it darling. Best to eat when you're human, at least then you have more of a choice."

Grace stopped for a moment. Gears turning. If her stomach had been full, then she must have eaten something and if she were to go by the rancid taste in her mouth when she first woke up...

"What exactly did I eat last night?"

"Honestly? Not a fucking clue but your breath was rank and you certainly seemed to regret it. I had to carry you back. That is, after I chased you through the woods for several hours."

Grace groaned and leaned against the counter. 

"It's not over yet, is it? So will several days a month be trying to consume literally anything I can rationalize as food or is this an all the time thing?"

"You're asking the wrong person, I have no idea."

Grace eyed them suspiciously. Her rational side finally catching up despite the weirdness of it all. 

How did they know this? How did they know any of this?

"Got something you want to share?" Grace kept her tone controlled, looking Cardinal dead in the eye.

Their partners' body language shifted, from comfortable to mildy self-conscious. Like they were trying to shrink in on themself.

“What do you mean?

She poked Cardinal in the stomach, where the soft skin bulged beneath the hoodie stolen from her closet. It was obviously an attempt to be subtle, but it wasn't the first time they had been mysteriously bloated. Typically they just tried to pass it off as a food allergy or intolerance. Other times they both just ignored it.

"Between the belly and the nighttime disappearance act-"

"I'm not a werewolf. I'm something else. Think more along the bloodsucking side of the spectrum."

Grace recoiled before gently poking Cardinals firm stomach. 

"So… You're like a tick or a leech or something?"

"I think vampire is the politically correct term, but yes."

"So… you were going to tell me when?"

Cardinal grimaced.

"Probably not now and not like this. I just… I was worried about you."

"Hmm."

"Are you mad?"

Grace paused in the tactile exploration of her lover's distended stomach before grabbing them by the face and kissing them slowly.

Cardinal pulled away gently, lifting their head and looking them in the eye.

"We should make sure you actually eat enough today. I really don't want to have to chase you through the woods again."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I have a friend who’s a bit more in touch with this sort of stuff that I am. He said you should actually go ahead and cave to that growling stomach of yours. Supposedly it’ll make the change easier, and will hopefully keep you from trying to go hunting.”

"Hunting? What was I even hunting?"

"Judging by the smell, you didn't hunt anything. You found it."

Grace grimaced, not even wanting to know anymore.

She leaned into her partner, the ghost of the pain she had felt this morning when she woke up was still fresh and that gut had to be a little sore. It gurgled softly, as if in reaction to her thoughts.

"You ok?" She said, putting a hand gently on their stomach.

"Hmm?" Cardinal glanced down and laughed. "Oh yeah, this is mild really. I stopped short to come back early. I wanted to go ahead and check on you. Turned out that was a good idea, wouldn't have wanted you stumbling naked back to your house just to find the door locked."

Grace hummed in response, already casting her eyes around the kitchen for more food. 

It was going to be a long day.

----------------------

Grace woke up suddenly, having fallen asleep on the couch with her small partner curled up next to her.

It was easy to realize what had woken her up.

"Holy hell."

At her exclamation Cardinal stirred.

"What's up?"

Grace didn't even answer, trying to stand up and immediately collapsing onto her knees as a wave of vertigo washed over her.

There was swearing from Cardinal, then the short vampire picked her up and set her down on the couch. 

"Your bedroom window is broken. We decided you should stay down here, remember?"

Grace shook her head, a clawing pain in her throat starting to bring her to tears. As if reading her mind Cardinal grabbed a water bottle, removed the top and steadied Grace's hands as she downed the whole thing. The pain didn't go away, but as she moved her joints started to crack and pop.

-----------------

Cardinal watched helplessly, their enhanced hearing picking up every shift and squelch as Grace's body began to rearrange itself. The taller girl curled in on herself, shivering even as her temperature skyrocketed.

"I-it's going faster this time." 

Grace managed to force out the words as Cardinal helped her with her shirt. Despite the close relationship, the vampire still grabbed a light blanket and wrapped it around the werewolf. Covering her bare torso and hiding the disconcerting warping of tissue and bone beneath the skin. Then, they carefully massaged her back along the spine and shoulder blades and tried to ignore the feeling of bones moving under the skin every so often.

Caelum had said this would be rough, and not just for Grace either. As usual, the witch was right. However, Cardinal had more sympathy for the person actually going through the change than for the person who only had to listen.

And watch.

And feel.

Grace moaned feverishly, a sound that lengthened into a yell as her muscles clenched abruptly.

It cut off suddenly with a choking noise, and Cardinal instinctively backed away as the girl convulsed. When it got to be too much, they closed their eyes. Refusing to look at Grace’s body was forced into its other form.

Until the noises stopped, and something bumped their leg. They jerked their head up, obviously startling the large gray and copper wolf who jumped up and scrambled back like a scared dog.

Guilt tugged at Cardinal’s insides from the sight. Some half forgotten tidbit of information presented itself to her mind. Something about helping werewolves by saying their name.

Well, it was worth a shot. Right?

“Hey-” 

The wolf began snarling, and Cardinal swiftly realized the large animal had backed itself into a corner.

“Grace, it’s ok. You know me. I won’t hurt you, and you don’t have to worry about hurting me, ok?”

The animal still seemed wary, but it recognized the name.

“Grace, you there sweetheart?”

They suspected they knew the answer. The wolf was definitely intelligent, but something was clearly lost in the transformation. Leaving a wild animal with some version of human rationality. A fun concept considering Grace already had the incredible ability to get into heaps of trouble, even when not high off of adrenaline and moonlight.

The wolf stopped snarling, cocking her head before rushing Cardinal and knocking them to the ground.

Cardinal yelped hands going up in an instinctive attempt to protect their face as the wolf-

Started licking their face like an excited puppy.

The vampire laughed, gently rubbing their hands through the unbelievably thick fur while they tried to come up with ways to keep the energetic werewolf occupied and the damage to a minimum.

[wwwafflewrites]

The Not-So-French Mistake

Chapter 7: Inner Demons

Castiel devoured his cheeseburger like Famine had strolled into town.

As for Sam, he was grinning into a biteful of food as he stabbed another with his fork, and then proceeded to jab a few sweet peppers in amusement. Pasta salads were a rare treat when on the road. Dean usually protested against his healthy habits, but it was no use. Sam preferred naturally sweetened foods over the artificial pounds of meat, grease, and cholesterol Dean usually supported.

He cast his eyes from his meal to his laptop screen for a moment, mapping out Bobby's present location. “His cell is at a warehouse about seven hours from here. It's a long drive. You sure you don't want to stake out at a motel for the night? I mean, we can't search for Bobby if we're sleep deprived.”

“No. Unless you feel it wiser. I'll be alright.” Cas assured and then gestured toward the burger in his hands. “Thank you for this, Sam. I appreciate it.” A frail string of cheese laced onto Castiel's lip as he spoke. He pulled the burger further away, letting the line of softened cheese thin out until it snapped, latching onto the bottom of his chin. Cas made a huff, frowning at his nose in regard to the loose strand of cheddar.

“It's nothing, Cas,” Sam dismissed contentedly, relieved that Castiel was satisfied. His angelic friend had been uncomfortable in the car, whiny snarls resonating from his stomach. Sam disliked watching him hunch into himself, a pinching expression similar to pain decorating his face.

Castiel set his burger down respectfully, adding emphasis to his seriousness. He softly disagreed, shaking his head. “No, Sam. It isn’t ‘nothing’.” 

While the added finger-quotes were a tad hysterical in the sincerity of the moment, Sam listened without a crack of a smile breaking along his face. Cas was serious, so he was as well.

“I... understand I am difficult as a human. This was all very sudden, and I am unfortunately slow to adapt. Hunger is foreign… and these, inner emotions of turmoil and guilt… I was capable of feeling as an angel, but this…” he struggled to explain, “Sam, I constantly feel this… panic, and it’s all very compressing within my vessel.” He took a breath. “Every nerve reacts to my being, and they bring overwhelming sensations. How do you cope with such complicated feelings?” Castiel almost looked distraught.

Sam held a soft, understanding gaze. “Cas, you’re anything but difficult. Sure, you’re not used to being human, but you’re our friend. You’re no burden to us. We can teach you.”

Cas looked uncertain. “I am also unsure of the social customs among humans. I had once believed I understood, but there are so many rules. Hidden, unspoken rules which determine your functionality. And the lying… I cannot even begin with how to lie…”

Sam set his fork in his dish, rolling a lone pasta noodle in thought. “It's about the body language. Looking nervous or tense tends to give you away. Hesitating doesn't help. The genuine expressions are what tells a lie from a truth. Not that lying is all that great, but sometimes it's necessary for cases.”

Cas nodded, worn. “Thank you, Sam. You have been very kind to me,” he murmured.

“You're welcome, Cas. Anytime.”

By the time they had finished their meal, the sun was touching the horizon, ambers and ochres illuminating the landscape. The clouds reflected salmon pinks and dusty blues. While the noontime sun had set a nightmare upon the previous town, the sunset was gorgeous. Sam admired the sky as if it were a delicate acrylic painting. Geese flew in an uneven V above the stolen truck, faint honks ringing into the evening air.

Cas fell asleep on the drive, his head lolling onto the window, sometimes jolting forward and startling him awake until he was lulled to sleep once again by the engine's purr and the setting sun's warmth blanketing his skin. It was no Impala, but drive was smooth and the road was velvety.

Sam knew angels shouldn't sleep, and that he should be concerned over Castiel's recent humanity, but all he could manage was guilty contentment. Castiel was rarely so peaceful.

When Dean slept, he either looked like he was ready to stab you in the gut or he was stupidly drooling on a pillow with his morning hedgehog hair at attention. But… that was Dean.

Castiel woke drowsily to silver lines of clouds weaving into the horizon, having furrowed downward into the silhouettes of spindly trees. Looming shadows and blinding streetlamps flickered past as the night defeated the light. He knew that as the sky darkened, so did Sam's thoughts.

Sluggishly, he shifted his head toward Sam, still leaning against the door of the vehicle. “Sam?”

Sam startled a bit, as if snapping out of lost, intense thoughts. “Yeah, Cas?”

“Are you alright?” He needed the truth.

Sam stared at the road, letting the silence envelope the innocent question until he whispered, “No. No, I'm really not.”

Castiel nestled his head between his chair and the window. “I suspected such. You seemed troubled after we left Sydney.”

Sam shifted his hands along the steering wheel. “She just… she dug up a lot of memories that I'd buried, you know? She's struggling… like I was… with the, uh, with the demon blood.”

Castiel shot a soulful look at Sam, sympathy washing over his features.

Sam paused thoughtfully. “You know… I used to really believe that I was a freak. Everyone knew it. Even you knew it. I was titled ‘the boy with the demon blood’ before I could walk. But then, I thought: maybe I can make that part of me my strength. Maybe I can use it to save people. I trusted Ruby, I trusted my powers, and ended up unleashing the one thing I was trying to stop. The one thing that caused me the most pain. The most sacrifice. The one ghost, to this day, that still haunts me.”

“Sam…” Guilt bled into Castiel’s features. “Others led you on that path. It wasn’t your fault.”

“And it’s kind of funny. You’d think I’d be worried about vampires, or demons, or witches. Every monster that I face daily. I’ve lived my whole life hunting the creatures that lurk behind people's shadows. But no, it’s the creature lurking behind my shadow. It’s the devil that haunts my sleep. It’s Satan. Lucifer gives me nightmares.”

“Sam.” Cas pleaded.

“But, it’s not even the nightmares... I’m just… I’m afraid Sydney will fear herself like I did once, and she’ll just wind up inflicting more pain―more suffering. I’m afraid she’s going to unleash her own Satan, you know? I’m terrified that it’ll be something that we can’t fight with bullets or brawn.” Sam’s eyes never left the road, deep-threaded pain shimmering along the whites of his eyes. His fists clenched the steering wheel like a life-source. “I don’t want anyone to go through that, Cas. The guilt I felt…” his voice cracked shamefully. “I don’t want her thinking she’s a freak. I can see it in her eyes. It’s the exact same look I saw in the mirror during the apocalypse.” Tears pooled in his eyes, his lashes dampening, but nothing dropped. “Nobody should ever feel that. Because not only can you not trust the world, but you can’t trust yourself. And that's scary.”

Castiel silenced as Sam’s heavy final words sank in. The thought invaded Castiel’s heart like a worm―a parasite―shimmying into the crevices of his aching soul. Not that Castiel had a soul, only humans had such, but it felt like it. And past Castiel’s brave face and stony appearance, his grace wept for Sam Winchester. He wept for Sam's losses, for his sorrow, for his fear, for his centuries of pain and torture in the Cage. He wept for Sam Winchester because Sam Winchester deserved to be wept for. 

Unfortunately, Sam did not see past the hardened facade of Castiel's vessel.

Hours past. Cas frequently volunteered to drive, but Sam insisted he was ‘okay’ and he was ‘fine’. However, after his confession, it was clear he was far from such a claim. 

Sam finally shredded the burdened silence with a sigh. “How are you holding up, Cas?”

Cas seemed genuinely flustered. “Me?”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I think we've heard enough of my baggage for one night. Anything been bothering you lately?”

Cas wondered if there wasn't something that bothered him lately, but he replied, “Other than my wings having been reduced to nothing but feather dusters, I am adjusting.” The angel was rather proud of that metaphor (even though he’s stolen it from Dean).

Sam let his brow lower in puzzlement. “How can you still have wings and not be able to fly?”

Castiel was thankful for the questions he could answer. “My grace allows me to bend distances. so I can fly into the next space within the matter of a microsecond. Much like the theory of black holes. Picture taking a string as a representation of two distances, and then folding the string until both ends meet. I allow two places to become one.” 

“Interesting.”

Cas continued to explain it simply, “Sigils generally control the bending of space. Whether it be banishing an angel or preventing it from entering warded areas. They hold an aura we cannot break unless disassembled. It targets our platform, if you will.”

“Platform?”

“You could say it's a layer of existence. It is very… complex. Difficult to visualize.

“Our blades, for example, exist in many platforms. Our grace, however, lives on one. Since only a shadow of our grace remains on this platform, normal weapons will not penetrate it. Normal weapons will only harm the vessel, and our grace will work to stitch the wound immediately.” Cas tried to aid Sam in visualizing it in a way he could understand. “There are other platforms, but they are generally irrelevant. Picture them as layers to reality.

“Simply put, a blade can kill grace as long as it exists on the same platform. They cannot penetrate shadows of grace,” he took a heavy breath.  “It gets much more complicated when you visualize alternate universes as layers going vertically. Sydney managed to jump those layers when she entered our reality.” He added, “Humans cannot jump horizontal platforms without dying. Such as heaven or hell.”

Sam made a left turn, headlights sweeping across the barren, deserted asphalt. Sam was unsure if grace could apply to physics, but Castiel's description definitely granted him a vague insight on how it worked. “So when your grace drains…”

With the turn, Cas was nudged further into the window as inertia gently pulled him right. “Our vessels rely on human behaviors. Eating, sleeping. Just as human souls do. The less grace, the more human we become. Currently, my grace is very compressed and useless, but present. I believe something within the town was limiting my grace to become completely unavailable to me. I believe now that we have left the town, it is beginning to unravel. I should be able to utilize my grace's abilities very soon.”

Sam looked relieved to hear that. After a minute of thought, he conjured another curious question. “Do platforms apply to dreams?”

Cas nodded into the window. “Yes. That is its own platform. A complicated one. It merges both conscious and unconscious thoughts, depending on your state. It's a platform your soul is in charge of. Hence why those who are soulless do not dream.”

“Demons?”

“Lucifer created them to live amongst their own platform. Your demon knife exists on theirs.” He paused. “I suppose angel blades do as well. The Colt was designed to target their platform, and all other monsters’. There are very few things the Colt can't kill.”

“Witchcraft?”

“Witches discovered they could control platforms with specific spells. They generally target humanity’s.”

They continued the one-sided game of questionnaire until the questions ran dry. Admittedly, they were both thankful for the distraction.

The sun had yet to rise. Pale mountains of clouds had piled along the skyline, their peaks just barely cutting into the sky. Murky darkness had faded into pale, noticeable splotches of cobalt and a modest tone of lime. It was roughly five in the morning, dawn not having broken yet.

Castiel yawned, removing himself from his somewhat suitable pillow for the everlasting night, the window. He stretched, joints cracking and popping as he extended his stiff muscles. “I can understand why most humans abhor mornings.”

Sam parked, squinting at the warehouse that stood three blocks from the hunter. He scanned the windows for movement, and upon finding none, he bundled his gear in preparation for a fight. He squared his shoulders..

“Let’s get Bobby back."   

Tags: @queen-bubble, @rosaren2498

[bnha-hcs]

Japan’s #1 Housewife - Chapter 1

“Tiki” you say “Why are you starting another series when you already have like 4 you haven’t touch at all during your absence”

Shhh I say it’s okay one day I’ll get to those even though I’ve been so dead. Plus I’ve been sitting on this idea for like a month and I need to get it out. Anyways here’s my new Aizawa X Fem Reader series Chapter 1 that literally no one asked for hrrrrrg

You’re Japan’s #1 housewife. Your quirk is to be able to make things larger or smaller to which you use the full extent of in your cooking specials on TV and other promotional appearances for commercials and product lines. If you need a bigger pot for cooking, you just use your quirk to make it bigger. If the pieces you chopped up are too big, you just make them smaller. You live in a large suite in the middle of the city with a spectacular view and are paid more money than you know what to do with. You’ve written many books since high school about cooking and how to manage a family of picky eaters in a mini series on an early morning talk show. It’s a busy life, and yet… You find yourself bored sometimes with what to do.

Despite you being called Japan’s #1 housewife you’re… actually not married at all. In fact you have all the suitors in the world coming after you and it’s everyday you have to sift through a mountain of love letters just to get to your real work. Your assistants are sweet enough, but sometimes it’s a little hard hearing about their love lives and how they’re all getting married. You’re much younger than a lot of the cooking hosts that you’ve been with on shows, and it’s been a question as of late of whether or not you’ve found yourself a lover and be the real housewife that your namesake suggests.

You were at an interview this morning on the news about a new recipe book you had come out with recently when they main hosts popped a series of questions. You had to sheepishly tiptoe around the situation and say that you hadn’t been thinking about it lately. It was true though, the thought never seems to pop up, and with your hands full with your work and any sort of charity work you can have your secretaries fit into your schedule… you were honestly too busy for a relationship right now. Until this afternoon apparently decided to prove you wrong. And today you realized that you shouldn’t have taken your “boring” life for granted.

It had been such a long time, and though you hated to admit it, you once thought you could make it at a hero. You had enrolled at UA for a while, but truth be told you actually couldn’t cut it. Your two best friends were so understanding of you when you decided you were going to transfer to a different set of classes. Even though you were super smart when it came to grades, it just didn’t work out for you when it came down to heroics. But today you had decided to catch up with your old friends. They were teachers at UA now, being full fledged heroes for years, and you couldn’t be prouder.

“Yooooo (Y/N)!” You heard Hizashi yell from the table at the cafe.

“Shhh!!” You hushed him while putting your finger to your lips. People were already starting to look over to you as they heard your name. “You can’t just yell like that!!”

“You seem to have forgotten who you’re friends with, (Y/N)”

You turned your attention to the second male at the table, your bag falling down your arm as you went to sit down in the third seat. Shouta looked the same as always - tired and ready for either a nap or 20 shots of espresso.

“I guess so, but you could try a little harder not to blow my cover.” You sighed, pushing your sunglasses up. “I’d rather not be swarmed at a cafe if we can avoid it…”

The two of them gave you a deadpanned look and you pouted a little bit. To be fair, it was your idea to meet up with them for some lunch, barely managing to fit this in between the three of your schedules. Being an adult was hard… You could’ve just met up at your flat downtown but you just felt like that was too… boring. It was nice outside too!! On a day like this you hated to be in a stuffy old room.

“Anyways… how have you two been? I hope your students aren’t driving you insane.” You sigh, fiddling with the ends on the menu as you looked it over. After a few moments you reached over to Shouta’s plate to steal some of his coffee cake before taking a sip of a cup of coffee that they had already ordered for you.

Hizashi and Shouta shared a look and you instantly knew that it was unfortunately not that easy. You had heard all of the things happening with the league of villains and all the attacks that happened. Especially after the fall of All Might, things at UA had been hectic to say the least. Seems like the days never let any of you rest.

“I’m sure you already know how things have been on our end.” Shouta mumbled  making you feel a tad bit bad for even asking. Even Hizashi seemed a little more worn down than usual as he just tiredly nods. You all share a sigh.

“But yo (Y/N)!! You’ve been up to a lot recently too haven’t you??” The blond suddenly asks, springing up in his chair.

“Oh you know… just the usual same old same old…” You mumble. “The press can’t seem to leave me alone about my love life.”

“Why don’t you just wear a fake engagement ring like every other single person your age. Maybe they’ll stop asking.” Shouta suggested. You squished your face with your hands as you thought about it

“It’s not that easy I have to actually HAVE someone related to it.” You sighed taking the ring you had gotten last week off your left middle finger, putting it on the ring finger to see how it looked. “But maybe I can try it…”

“You still haven’t found someone??” Hizashi asks in such large surprise that you can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “At this rate you’re going to die old and alone. I’ll light a candle for you, (Y/N).”

“Oh shut your face loudmouth.” You almost hiss at him. “I don’t see either of you with rings on your fingers either!!”

“Hizashi is too loud he just scares everyone away.”

“Hey that’s mean!!”

“Shouta’s kind of right though you are kind of-”

“IT’S WHO I AM.”

“Shhhh!!!” You’re laughing and trying to get Hizashi to stop screaming in the cafe. Multiple people have already been eyeing you this whole time making you uneasy. If your friend was going to continue being loud and lament about your teasing, you might have to take this elsewhere before-

“There she is!!!”

Ah shit.

In a flurry there’s a mass of reporters, cameramen, and photographers coming at you. You’re groaning and looking at your friends with such dread on your face that they can’t help but laugh. The crowd now coming every closer, you’re begging them to help get you out of here, but it looks like you’re all stuck as everyone begins to crowd around you. There’s nothing but strings of questions being thrown at you, some about your latest work, others about your next appearance on the hit new competitive cooking show, or if you think that you’ll still have brand deals with All Might after his big secret came out. But most of them are…

“Are you currently on a date with two of your suitors??”

“Who are these men that you’re with today??”

“Wait aren’t those two teachers at UA?!”

“Miss (Y/N), are you keeping a secret love life from the media?? When are you going to release your love interest??”

Oh what a fucking bother. You’re groaning even louder now.

“Oh no these two are just old friends of mine from high school and we just wanted to-”

“But Miss (Y/N) we saw you sharing a coffee cake with THIS man right here!! How do you explain that!!”

“It was an indirect kiss you two shared the same fork!!”

Oh gods is this a goddamn high school drama??? What are these reporters about anyways… Oh wait sHIT THE RI-

In a loud chorus of voices you hear all the people in the crowd are now seeing the new placement of the ring on your finger and it’s definitely NOT GOOD. You feel your soul leaving your body as you send Shouta a side glare. This was his idea!! Now you’re in more trouble than you wanted to be in right now, and you were sure it couldn’t get any worse. But of course it could!! Because this wouldn’t be interesting if there wasn’t some sort of sick twist at the end!!

Glancing over at Hizashi you can tell that he’s trying hard to hold in his laughter, and you could believe that him seeing his two friends being mistaken as being married was probably the funniest thing in his damn life right now. Especially because it’s Shouta, and the thought of that man ever being married to such a dedicated and well known housewife like you was… well, it was a fun thought to entertain wasn’t it? So why not help it along the way?

“That’s right folks you heard it first here!! Japan’s Number One Housewife is married to the underground hero Eraserhead!!!”

You and Shouta stop dead and look at each other with wide eyes, slowing turning to face Hizashi with such blatant rage and intent to kill that if this wasn’t a public place with crowds of witnesses… he’d definitely be dead. The two of you watched as reporters rushed over to the loud mouthed idiot that just sealed their fate, to ask him questions about you. You’re so embarrassed that you feel like you could die right here and now. There was no way you’d be able to get your ass out of this mess now. And as the cafe became more and more bustling with people it became more apparent that this wasn’t just a dream either.

It was a goddamned nightmare.