#and Sam grabs him by his shoulders and reminds him there's something to fight for

[polarisbibliotheque]

Sorry, I saw one post and a half of yours and I'm already a fan.

I still have to scroll down your blog to see more about you, but I saw that two-post-long answer you made for an anon ask (btw, you have such poetic vibes :D your style made me smile, seriously) and I couldn't holf myself to ask:

Hm, have you ever heard of... I mean, "whump"?

If yes, what are your thouhts on it?

(you don't need to answer this, specially if it makes you unconfortable in any ways or anything else XD)

However, I hope you have a wonderful day/noon/afternoon/evening/night(?) !

Hello hello!! First things first, sorry for taking SO LONG to answer, I had a ton of health issues the last couple of months >.<

Secondly, thank you SO MUCH for being so kind!! I saw all your reblogs of that huge answer for such a tiny thing I did and thank you. I'm really happy you like my style too, that makes me smile!

Now now, about your question on whump, I'm gonna be very honest, I had to Google it to make sure we're on the same page HAHAHAHAHAHA

Jokes aside, I know it's sort of a term for hurt/comfort fanfiction - but it's not really clear to me if it's a kink thing or not.

Because you see, if you're talking about hurt and comfort, I mean, that's basically what I write HAHAHAHA writing for the Devil May Cry fandom, inevitably someone will be hurt/tortured/mentally abused somehow.

Or impaled. A lot.

(I mean, that's all this bitch has done for the past 5 games)

And also there's the whole thing with Vergil, his twin brother, being kept as a slave in Hell for 20(?) years and coming back after dragging his crumbling body out of there to find out he has a son and being the peak of cluelessness in the Universe - and me being adamant he deserves love after all that.

So I guess everything I write has a LOT of hurt - and I even put some serious warnings before the fics, 'cause everyone is traumatized in this household - but despite of that, they still can find love, happiness and somewhat soothe all that pain and trauma.

(dramatic, real, horrible, but stil comforting xD)

As a kink, though, I don't enjoy it - and I also don't enjoy putting characters I love through pain and suffering just because. That's why I have a love/hate relationship with horror media: I LOVE horror, but I HATE exploitation.

Movies that have just people being abused, hurt, dismembered and all that kind of horrible stuff happening just because without a real reason to be on the plot - meaning, torture porn - just make my blood boil. And there's a lot of that in horror.

I like when things are more psychological and actually have a REASON to be there. So, in my writing, I'll never torture a character just for the pleasure of doing so and for the pleasure of the reader, I need a point out of it.

For instance, on my cyberpunk-style story, both main characters have gone through a terrible experience together and lost someone who was really dear to them. Both of them went through a lot of physical pain, lost some limbs and needed to install cyberprosthesis, and lost everything they had worked for til that point in their lives.

Horrible, yes. But they had to go through it so I could start the story: because of all of this, the guy made an anarchist/terrorist group and just wants to burn down the city along with the people in power who allowed all that to happen to him, while the woman becomes the best killer for hire so she can get enough money to live and, eventually, retire.

All that physical and psychological pain is a very important plot point and I can't take it away from the story, or else there's no story to begin with. Meanwhile, every time I'm writing I'm thinking "how can I make this as unpleasant as I can so the reader can understand the crushing feeling of all of this?" hahahahaha

That's why I'm not into pain kink - I respect everyone who is, but I can't do it, I feel no pleasure from it.

That's my opinion, I think. For pleasure's sake, I don't like it, but for plot, I really like it. I think it has a hopeful note to it - that even after the storm, the days will shine bright again, you just have to go on. That's what I enjoy from writing things like this, the hope.

Who would've known, I'm not 100% a bitter bitch hahaha

Reading my personal original stories, I think all of them have a painful background and many unpleasant scenes. But I like it, because it's human nature and how life is: bad things will happen, we can just try to make the good ones count even more :)

I hope that was a good answer to your question hahahaha

Thank you once again, and I hope you have a lovely week ahead!! Feel free to spend some time around and ask things if you'd like! ^^

[wandering-winchesters]

A Desperate Moment I

Summary: After a life-threatening hunt, Dean, overwhelmed by fear and desperation, shares a raw and intense moment with Y/N, revealing the depth of his feelings and solidifying their connection as they promise to face the future together.

Part 2 Here

The air in the bunker is thick with tension, the kind that comes after a particularly rough hunt. You, Sam, and Dean have barely made it back in one piece, each of you nursing your own set of bruises and cuts. The silence between you is heavy, each of you lost in your own thoughts as you process what happened.

You’re in the library, pacing back and forth, trying to shake off the adrenaline that’s still coursing through your veins. The room feels too small, too constricting, and your mind is racing, replaying the events of the night over and over again.

You almost died tonight. You came so close to not making it out, and the thought of how close you came has your heart pounding all over again. You’ve been on countless hunts before, faced down monsters and demons with a steady hand, but tonight was different. Tonight, you felt the cold touch of death brush against you, and it’s left you rattled in a way you can’t quite shake.

Dean walks in, his footsteps heavy on the floor. He’s usually so composed after a hunt, but tonight, he seems just as on edge as you are. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time. He’s been distant ever since you got back, barely saying a word to you or Sam.

You stop pacing when you see him, your breath catching in your throat. There’s something in his expression that makes you uneasy, something raw and unguarded. You’ve seen Dean angry, you’ve seen him hurt, but this… this is different.

“Dean,” you start, your voice shaky as you try to gauge what’s going on with him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just stares at you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s like he’s wrestling with something inside him, something he doesn’t know how to put into words. And then, before you can say anything else, he takes a step closer, his movements almost frantic.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice rough and filled with a desperation that you’ve never heard from him before. “You—” He stops, clenching his fists at his sides as if he’s trying to hold himself back. But whatever he’s fighting, he’s losing.

You barely have time to react before he’s right in front of you, his hands grabbing your arms with a grip that’s almost too tight. His eyes are burning with something fierce, something that looks like fear mixed with anger, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in waves.

“Dean, what—” you start, but your words are cut off as he suddenly pulls you to him, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like you ever imagined.

It’s not soft or sweet; it’s rough, urgent, full of a desperation that takes your breath away. His hands move to cup your face, his fingers trembling slightly as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The kiss is fierce, raw, like he’s pouring every ounce of fear and frustration into it, and you can feel the weight of everything he’s been holding back.

You’re too stunned to respond at first, your mind reeling from the suddenness of it all. But then you feel the way he’s trembling against you, the way he’s clinging to you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, and something inside you snaps. You kiss him back, matching his intensity, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt as if you’re trying to pull him even closer.

The kiss deepens, becoming almost frantic, and you can taste the desperation on his lips, the way he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this one moment. It’s like he’s trying to drown out the fear that’s been gnawing at him, to remind himself that you’re still here, still alive.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you struggle to catch your breath. Dean’s eyes are still closed, his chest heaving as he tries to steady himself. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your own, the echo of the fear that’s still coursing through him.

“Dean…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you try to make sense of what just happened.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just stands there with his eyes closed, his hands still gently holding your face. When he finally opens his eyes, there’s a vulnerability in them that makes your heart ache.

“I thought I lost you,” he says, his voice rough and filled with a raw honesty that takes you by surprise. “When I saw you go down, I… I thought that was it. I couldn’t… I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

The weight of his words hits you like a punch to the gut, and you realize just how deeply tonight’s events have affected him. Dean’s always been the strong one, the one who holds it together when everything else falls apart. But tonight, you saw a side of him that you’ve never seen before—a side that’s scared, vulnerable, terrified of losing the people he cares about.

You reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead, your touch soft as you try to comfort him. “You didn’t lose me, Dean,” you say, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I’m right here.”

He closes his eyes again, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension slowly start to melt away from his body. For a moment, you both just stand there, holding onto each other, finding comfort in the shared silence.

When Dean finally speaks again, his voice is quieter, more controlled, but still filled with that same desperation. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”

You shake your head, cutting him off before he can finish. “Don’t apologize,” you say softly. “I get it. I was scared too.”

He opens his eyes, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or regret, but all he finds is understanding. Slowly, he leans down, pressing a much softer, almost tentative kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the way his hands have stopped trembling.

“Just… promise me something,” Dean says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t… I can’t go through that again.”

You nod, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his words. “I promise, Dean.”

And in that moment, with the weight of the world still pressing down on both of you, something shifts between you. It’s not just the kiss, not just the fear of what could have been—it’s the realization that beneath all the teasing and the banter, there’s something real, something that’s been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to surface.

You pull him into another kiss, this one softer, less desperate but just as full of emotion. It’s a kiss that promises things unsaid, a kiss that seals the unspoken understanding between you. And when you finally pull away, you both know that things have changed—irrevocably, but for the better.

Dean presses his forehead to yours again, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, his voice full of quiet determination. “Whatever this is… we’ll figure it out.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest, but this time, it’s not from fear. It’s from the overwhelming sense of something new, something that feels like hope.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, your hand still resting on his chest. “We will.”

tag list: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester

Part 2 Here

[ultralightpoe]

Chaos - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: terribly written but I'm clearing out my drafts

Warning: mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2340

Part One Here

Enjoy!

“What the hell happened?” Cho snaps, moving to the gurney being pushed in and surveying the amount of blood that was spilling. “Back up! I need room, someone page Stark immediately!”

The lights of the tower flicker under the storm, and Steve watches as Cho’s team wheels the gurney away quickly, his hand shaking heavily. Panic claws at his throat as the scene from earlier unfolds in his mind once more, turning slowly to the redhead beside him. 

“Steve-” She starts before he shakes his head. 

“Nat, this is not a conversation you want to have with me right now.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose before he realizes it’s coated in blood and pulls it back sharply. “I need to shower.”

He storms off, shoulders squared as he thinks about all the reports he is about to fill out. 

- 

“We won’t have much time, in and out as fast as we can. Everyone has their tasks?” Steve asks, making sure everyone nods back to him before making eye contact with you. “Y/n, I know this will be your first mission-”

“We should go before the storm gets any worse.” You interrupt, fixing your headset and moving to the bay of the quinjet, grabbing your bag before being the first to leave the ship and rushing to leave them behind. 

“Slow down Y/n.” You hear Bucky warn in your earpiece, and normally you would turn around to wait for him. But he wasn’t your partner on the mission today, so you didn’t turn and kept the same pace. They could catch up if they wanted. 

Bucky stops in his tracks when he sees you march off, not bothering to turn to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Normally you would slow down for him, normally he would have your back during missions. 

It was a slow realization that you would be alone. 

“Maybe we should-” He starts, feeling like a fool as Sam turns to look. 

“We gotta go, come on man.” He mumbles, watching as Nat takes lead. 

It was going to be a simple mission, in and out, Bucky reminds himself. Taking a deep breath before following the rest. 

- 

“We need a report,” Tony sighs, tracing through the footage of the mission, eyes widening at the fight. “I’ve never….”

“Tony, I’ve never seen it before. And it’s my fault.” Nat sighs, rubbing her hand across her face. “I got involved.”

“How?”

“I got in Bucky’s head a bit. I was just worried-”

“Worried about what?”  

“About Bucky and- I just remember coming out of the red room and being so attached to Clint. I had no family, no story, no morals. I was just pain. I was in pain myself and I inflicted pain onto others.”

“You went through something terrible-”

“THEY WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TERRIBLE! Bucky went through 70 years of it and the experiments they ran on Y/n….. I just wanted them to safe. I didn’t want them to get hurt.” She sighs, picking at her hair. “I love them both and I just wanted them to take a break. Maybe they would see how much they needed each other, and they would finally admit it to each other.”

“You should know by now that Barnes never thinks the way we do.”

“He thinks he is going to ruin everything he touches.”

“I know someone like that.” Clint interrupts from the door, giving Nat a small smirk. “Let’s just take a night to rest, Cho will update us if need be.”

- 

It had turned into a mess too fast, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The rain covered most of your vision as the walls of the compound seemed to be closing in quickly, the others screaming over the intercoms as they had been ambushed. 

You had been tasked to get the files from the lower levels of the compound, and you had planned to get it done quickly. You had not planned, however, to be locked in the basement as it began flooding. 

“GUYS!” You should, tears springing from your eyes as you cling to the door, the water reaching your ankles at the top of the stairs. 

“They blew up the dam-” Sams voice cuts through, half static half radio. “Steve, to your right-”

Gunshots could be heard in the background, Natasha cursing and you truly did not think they could hear you at all anymore. “Shit.” 

Instead of clinging to the door you turn to survey another way out of the room, eyes scanning over every inch of space to find your exit. The intercom in your hear rumbles with static before your name breaks through, Bucky’s voice sounding panicked. The next thing you know the intercoms have a sharp ringing through them that makes you gasp out and tear it from your ear quickly, dropping it in the water and diving in to find a way out. 

- 

Bucky curses as he tears the intercom from his ear, dodging a bullet quickly and diving behind a wall as Nat stays covered by her own, making eye contact for a second as she tears her own comns out.

First the heavy explosion that shook them down, the dam breaking and water beginning to flood, Hydra soldiers attacking them and now their comns were down. Worst of all Bucky could not find you. 

Heart thundering through his ribs as he bites at his tongue to keep from grunting in pain when he realizes he had been shot, but right now that doesn't matter. He had to find you. 

“I have to find Y/n!” He shouts, watching Nat nod before he dashes to the exit that you were supposed to use. Just as he reaches the metal door something loosens in his chest, knowing you would were near and he could find you. He would never let you go he swore to god. 

He pulls the door, desperate to get to you, only to find it sealed shut. So his metal hand takes charge, bending into the metal as he grunts out, doing his best to get it off. A shout of pain fills the air as Sam comes into view, moving to help Bucky tear the door off. 

They make eye contact for a moment, the rain beating down on them before a blast of light blows them to the side, heat covering their bodies as they ram into the wall. 

Bucky’s head slams into brick, he hears Steve shout and Sam scream out in pain before it all goes blank. 

He would never see the chaos erupt. 

- 

Steve is up the second the sun filters through the curtains, happy to finally get to leave his room and check on his friends' health. 

Nat is already waiting for him in the front hall of the med bay, a nervous look on her face as Steve walks past her to speak with Cho.”Any update?”

“He’s breathing.” She sighs. “And he was so lucky Y/n was there.”

- 

You could hear the explosion from under the water, and in a panic you swam back up, only to find that the water had flooded to the roof and your face was pressed to the ceiling to catch your breath. 

Taking a moment to breathe as you hear Sam scream in pain, there was a pain in yoru chest that you couldn’t explain. It felt like a panic attack but worse, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t stop crying. 

“PLEASE!” You scream, hands pressing to the ceiling as the water gets worse. 

“Stop crying!” A voice breaks out, and you whip your head to find your old boss, the man that had thrown you into your first cell. The man that had ruined you. 

He was standing in the center of the room, and you had to blink for a moment to realize that there was no water, and you were completely dry.

“W-what?”

“Stand up!” You listen to him immediately, just as you used to, the tears still streaming down your face as you look around the room. It was different now, when you had come in it had looked like a simple office, now it was your cell. 

Or had it always been your cell?

Who was screaming?

“I SAID STAND UP!” Doctor Cornell shouts, stomping forward to drag you up himself, a slap tearing across your face as you cry out. 

“Where’s Bucky?” You gasp, the pain in your cheek fading away quickly. “I want to find Bucky.”

“You think he wants you?” Cornell laughs bitterly. “No one wants you, I’ve made you a fucking freak.”

“I want b-” Before you can finish your sentence you remember Bucky ignoring you, avoiding you….. And then you realize why. Cornell was right, he had made you a freak. You were a monster. 

A sob racks through your chest, and the painful feeling explodes. 

You try to scream out, only for your lungs to fill with water and more panic to take place. 

- 

Steve could not believe his eyes, holding Sam's abdomen tightly in an attempt to stop the blood, watching as vines burst from the basement and travel across every surface faster then he ever thought possible. 

“Is that……” Steve starts, looking to where Nat was trying to get Bucky up.

“Y/n.”

Sam gasps out as the vines wrap around him, tightening around his wound and glowing a deep golden color as some of the blood stops, the vines traveling further and wrapping around the Hydra soldiers tightly to stop them all. 

Now that Sam's wound is being taken care of, Steve dashes to dive in the water, swimming down to try and find where you were. Only you were nowhere to be found, whatsoever. 

By the time he comes back up he is panting for air, watching as Bucky kneels by the water with blood leaking down his face and panicked eyes looking at his friend. “Where is she?”

“She’s not down there.” Steve gasps. 

“STEVE WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky snaps, the water reaching his waist as Nat moves to snatch him back. 

“The vines are dying, Y/n can’t hold them off forever. We gotta go.” She rushes out, snatching the back of Buckys vest. 

“NOT WITHOUT Y/N-”

“Bucky. Y/n is holding them off but we have to get Sam out of here. Please.”

- 

“Any word on Y/n?” Bruce asks, coming into the surveillance room where Clint is deep diving into the footage. 

“I can’t find her.” He admits, eyes never leaving the screen. “I would love some help.”

“You got it.”

“Lock the door before Barnes comes in and bothers me again.” He sighs, watching Bruce lock it. It was a joke, but he knew that Barnes was hurting. He could understand that. 

- 

Bucky woke up in a startled panic, reaching to your side of the bed quickly, sitting up to find you when he doesn’t feel you. “Y/n?”

His voice is scratchy, a mix of all the screaming from yesterday, and he slowly realizes you aren’t there as the memories resurface.You weren’t here, you were gone. They weren’t able to find you yesterday. 

A knock sounds at the door and Bucky jumps up, excitement filling him as he rushes to answer, hoping to see your face on the other side of the door, only to find Steve on the other side. His heart plummets to his stomach as his friend looks at him softly. 

“You found your way to her apartments then?”

“I think I came here immediately yesterday.” He answers truthfully, letting Steve in before looking around the room, seeing all the dead plants. “How did her plants die in a day?”

“Buck…..” Steve starts, and Bucky tenses, fists clenched as he turns to his friend. “It’s been…. It’s been a week.”

“What?” Bucky laughs, flinching as Steve turns on the light. 

“It’s been a week. You came here the night we brought you back and you passed out, I think because of the head injury-”

“If it’s been a week then where is my doll?”

“We…. we can’t find her Buck.” Steve sighs, rubbing between his eyes. “I think it’s time you and I talked about some things-”

“Talk about things? I can’t talk I have to go find her Steve-” He moves to pass his friend but Steve shoots his hand out to catch him. 

“I think it’s time to admit you love her.”

- 

Freak freak freak freak freak. 

Your mouth was dry and your feet hurt, this was the only thing you could comprehend. 

The lady in the market was staring at you wildly, looking terrified as she reached a hand towards you, concern flashing through her eyes. “Are you okay?” 

She had a heavy accent, one that reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. What was it…..russian?

“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks, rubbing your shoulders. “What’s your name?”

“I…..I’m….” Who were you? You blinked slowly, trying to remember who you were. All you saw was a flash of someone with a metal arm before you were met with a bald man in a lab coat. “I… don’t…. Who am I?”

- 

Bucky finds himself in the med bay the next morning after a long lecture from Steve, staring at Sam as his friend runs on the treadmill. 

“I… I am so confused. Steve said you were in critical condition?” 

“He was.” Cho answers in amazement, reading the stats that Sam is sending through the tech pad in her hands. “But he is completely healed.”

“How?”

“Y/n, there were traces of her vines left in the wound. It’s completely healed now.”

“Her…. she’s never done that before.” Bucky mumbles, a tight feeling in his chest. “What do you think it means?”

“I think we need to find Y/n, as fast as we can. That was way too much energy used.” Cho answers, a grim expression on her face.

Bucky could do that, he would tear apart the world to find you.

Tag List:::

@spookyparadisesheep @minaxcarter @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @whatishappeninghere81 @vicmc624 @unaxv @elite4cekalyma @scott-loki-barnes @luciaexcorvus @zephyrmonkey @littlewhiterose @classyunknownlover @cyberficlya @m00n5t0n3 @donttalktosposts @magnificentsvn @jenniferpendragon @dexter99

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt4 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

Taking the day to go to the beach you meet someone new...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Masterlist!

Warning! James is a dick, use of language

“Oh, Flo, where did you go?

Where did you go? Where did you go?”

The song was expected at this point as you ran along the beach. You huffed begrudging, humming along. The song reminded you of America.

The fights kept coming in the few months before you left.

It happened one day, after a day of talking with Sam about trying to start your next book. You had returned home to an upset James. He had met you at the door with a dark look, something storming in his mind that immediately had you asking. Despite your questioning, he remained silent, pacing back and forth before heading to the bedroom and slamming the door shut. 

“You're falling about

You took a left off Last Laugh Lane

Just sounding it out

But you're not coming back again

You're falling about

You took a left off Last Laugh Lane

You were just sounding it out

But you're not coming back again”

You just stood stunned in the hallway before turning with a frown to make dinner.

A few minutes later James sauntered out, a mean smirk on his face,

“You’re fucking him aren't you?”

The question came out of nowhere and you dropped the spoon, 

At first, you thought he was joking and you cracked a smile.

“Yea, me and an aroace man!”

His eyes sharpened,

“I am not joking you little bitch,”

At the term you froze, anger tightening your muscles as you turned off the stove.

“You will not speak to me that way.”

James huffed and then chuckled, he approached you, running a hand down your hair and the back of your head, then resting on your neck. The next gleam in his eyes frightened you and you pushed at his chest but against his height, you had no power. He gripped the back of your neck and pulled you closer, his mouth brushing close to your ear.

“I will say anything I want.”

And with a final warning, he stepped back fingers slightly digging into your hair before he released. 

“You’ll do well to remember that.”

“You used to get it in your fishnets

Now you only get it in your nightdress

Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness

Landed in a very common crisis

Everything's in order in a black hole

Everything was pretty as the past though

That Bloody Mary's lacking in Tabasco

Remember when you used to be a rascal?”

The song finally finished out and you slowed then paused in your running. A sudden weight on your shoulders and in your chest you sank into the sand, not caring about the mess. How could years go to waste? You put your head on your knees. What had you lost?

A love, yes but a vibrant career in one of the best publishing firms in the US. But what of your family, your friends? You disappeared within a week, leaving the only world you knew behind. Despite the state of America, you missed it. You had grown up in your childhood home, worn walls and height lines scribbled into the door frames. You made your first stories in those rooms. 

You close your eyes. After a messy relationship in your late teens and early 20s, you left your hometown. Leaving to a liberal arts college on the East Coast you pursued your masters in creative writing. One faithful day in your first year of your masters you met Sam. He was in an engineering program online but was taking a few classes in the college. You had heard his distress over an essay in the campus cafe. And, as a new 23-year-old master's student eager to make friends on campus. You had approached him, explained your position and he nearly grabbed you and threw his essay at you. What followed was the closest friend you had ever found and 6 years of friendship followed. At 25 you graduated with Sam following and entered the publishing business. A few months in you met James and the rest, 

Well, the rest is history.  

You stare out into the clear skyed ocean. Sighing, you turn your music back on and just stretch out your legs. Turning the music down you zone out. It was a couple of days after getting Simon’s number, Thursday to be exact, and you had driven out to the coast hoping to get some inspiration. But nothing came up. 

You watch the ocean. Now that was something you missed, the sealife along the East Coast. You remember always loving the sea, during the evening taking the boats out to spot blue whales and others. 

You soon became lost in thought and as time passed, the sun grew high towards noon. As your thoughts traced the bottom of the sea a shadow overtook your form and you blinked. A body, you notice, a man standing over you, he was speaking. You pull an earbud out to be met with waves and a deep voice pulls your eyes to a handsome face, and a fishing hat?

“You alright down there?”

You look at him unsure, the combination of casual clothes and a camo fishing hat humors you, and you work to pull yourself up. He offers a hand, and with a good spirit, you take it. He pulls you up effortlessly, muscle flexing in the bright sunlight.

“I’m sorry I was lost in thought.”

He gives you an honest smile that doesn't fully reach his eyes making you wonder.

“Quite alright I understand the feeling. Seems to be a lot.” 

It’s a strong statement that takes you aback for a moment as the man stares out into the endless blue. You take a moment to observe, something in your writer's mind buzzing. The man is a bit older than you, he carried himself well, shoulders back in proper form but there was a weight there. He wasn’t as tall as Simon but nearly there. His blue eyes meet yours again and there is a depth you try to understand. You brush some sand off your legs to break the weight of his gaze. 

You return to his face with a small, shared smile, wondering what he had been through. Holding out a hand you introduce yourself standing a little straighter. Seeing this he nods and grabs your hand.

“Johnathan Price” 

His hands are rough, worn after years of work as the name sparks a flame of recognition. Price sees it in your eyes. 

“Captain John Price?”

He chuckles and releases your hand but you see the change in his form, subtle but tense. 

“Was, retired now. Now how did a lady like you know that?”

You expect the question, and you grin pointing to the hat.

“Johnny goes on and on about you.”

Price relaxes instantly, his smile now reaching his eyes and he chuckles again. 

“Soap, a good man. I haven't checked in on the lad in a while. How do you know him?”

You continue to explain your bookstore and meeting Johnny. As you speak Price relaxes and he mentions to a bench a little across the way, towards the end of the beach. Taking a seat you finish up.

“Sounds like John alright. He not giving you any trouble is he?”

You grin,

“Not at all, I've gotten quite used to him dropping by. He and Simon stop in a lot.”

That catches Price’s ear,

“Simon? Now that is interesting. How is he?”

You find his interest understandable, and you answer the best you can. 

“He pulled quite a stunt to help me, but I've enjoyed him so far.”

“He certainly has a presence, no worries though at heart he is a good man. He left an impact I assume?” 

He says it with a familiar grin, one that tells a history, there is also curiosity there. He raises a brow in expectation which makes you giggle. He looked like a dad, the image of Soap and Simon running around coming to mind for a moment before Price catches the look and raises another brow. 

There is respect for the man in Price's tone and you question how long he’d know the quiet man. 

“A while, a long while. He served as my lieutenant for years. He and Johnny are close. Been through a lot.” 

“I like that about Johnny, he has a lot of stories.” You lean back on the bench to stare up at the sky. Gathering clouds hint at a coming rain blowing in from the sea. You deal in stories but you can’t seem to catch a break, your eyes return to Price to see him observing you with keen eyes.

“Something troubling you?” he asks it honestly and you sigh, feeling the light shine upon you to share. 

“Yea. I am an author without ideas currently.”

Price hums, 

“I see, that's quite the predicament indeed. What’s causing it?”

You sigh again and the weight of the past few months falls upon your shoulders.

Price sees the change in you instantly and you just crack and break down the situation for him. It starts with your masters, to meeting Sam and James, the company, and your first books. You had started with children’s books following your interest in childhood literacy. As you explain the premise of the books, a fond smile lights up your face. 

Of three books, your second was your favorite: It followed the story of a fox kit lost amongst wolves. He was smaller than the rest of the other cubs but soon grew to love his own identity. The Fox’s Den pulled its name from this book. You had based the story on the forest around your childhood home and roaming through the woods while your parents were always too busy to keep you entertained.

With the success of your first books, your manager had insisted on middle-grade fiction and you wholeheartedly agreed. But your old boss at the publisher had dropped the expectation of a young adult or new adult book and you had started brainstorming, but that was when your world came crashing, well, tearing down. You explain this to him. 

“Everything was torn out from underneath you, there was nothing you could do. Your heart was, and I believe, still is in your writing, but everything that has happened has tainted your worldview,”

He pauses to regard the ocean for a moment, the winds blowing in cause choppy waves. 

“Often when things turn against us, or we have our backs against the wall is when we find it from within ourselves to overcome. Be it from within, or I believe in your case, around you. Perhaps you are just looking in the wrong place. Your past consuming you and tarnishing how you are experiencing the present.”

Price seems to be talking from within himself and it makes you wonder. You look out into the gathering storm. The waves cut like sapphire and the distant rumble of thunder. The close wildness of the ocean engulfs you in the moment. You take in the smell of the sea and exhale. Price was right, you had come here for a new life anyway, and you meant to make the best of it. 

Price watches you for a moment,

“I just feel like I am missing something in all of this. Why did it happen?”

Price sets a friendly hand on your shoulder,

“You may never know, but don’t let it consume you, instead revisit your old passions. Take what you remember of home and try to find something here to spark your interest. Besides James sounds like a right nasty bloke.”

Hearing someone older say it makes you feel a lot better. While your friends of course had been on your side it seemed like the entire company had turned against you. All except your manager who had followed you to Sam’s family company. While the boss held no power over you anymore your manager agreed with the sentiment of increasing your output to an older audience. She felt it would be good to expand into that market. 

“You're right.” 

Price’s advice comes at a good time, and he was right. Maybe you were looking too often into the past. Your phone buzzes, and you look and find a message from Simon. You smile, he was asking to take you up on the offer of tea. Price notices and smiles himself. 

“Well, you better get in before the rain hits, dear.”

You put your phone away and nod to the man.

“Thanks, John.” 

He stands up and nods.

“Until next time then.” This is all he offers before returning to his original route. Despite there not being an exchange of numbers you couldn't help but feel you would meet the man again. 

You sit for a moment longer, lingering on the feeling of being understood and the wildness of the sea. But as the wind picks up you receive a text from Sam. He calls a moment later.

“Where are you?”

“At the beach Mom, what's wrong?”

“I’ve got some interesting news. Besides the news says there's a storm brewing and I think you should head home. Your boyfriend is looking for you, he’s been in twice already.”

At that you are at a loss for words, a slight blush coming over your face,

“Come home buttercup before he haunts the place-” there's a pause on the other line, “and Soap says hi.”

You laugh at that, getting up and starting the run back to the car.

“Alright, I’m on my way, see you in a bit Sam, I'll be in a little late.”

“Drive safe. Bye”

With that you hang up and run, feelings of excitement building.

Taglist: @ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost

End chapter 4

[ellebakers]

☆ Liar.

Ethan Landry x Reader

Summary : You find out your boyfriend is a liar, luckily you are too.

Warning(s) : Violence ; mention of death and blood.

"NEVER TRUST THE LOVE INTEREST."

That's what Mindy said a few days ago, and damn she was right. You clung to Tara's arm to find some balance as you tried so hard to stop the blood from flowing from your hip wound. An injury inflicted on you by your boyfriend. Or rather future ex-boyfriend. You knew it though, it was too perfect to be true. Even though he was younger than you, he was very mature and that was hiding something. Now you know what. He's a fucking killer.

"It was so easy to make you think I was in love with you." He told you, which made Quinn and Bailey laugh.

"Fuck you."

He was laughing as he waved his knife in front of you. "Oh sweetie, we've already played this."

You shook your head at him. "True, it was easy to fuck you. And even easier to mess your brains up." He laughed even more. "Damn, I even managed to make you think it was Sam." He finished his sentence by pointing the eldest of the two sisters with the tip of her knife.

This time, you were the one laughing. "You're as dumb as your bastard brother."

Ethan turned his head towards you. "What the fuck did you just say ?"

You let go of Tara's arm and walked towards him. "Did I stutter ? I said, you're as dumb as your bastard brother."

"Fuck I'm going to kill you." Quinn exclaimed, raising her knife and walking towards you.

"Here we go." You exclaimed grabbing the gun you had hidden in your back pocket and shot her in the head. The redhead fell to the floor in no time, then you pointed your gun at Ethan and Bailey. "Welcome to the act three, motherfuckers."

Your boyfriend was trying to move forward but you shot him in the shoulder, the pain made him groan. You took a deep breath and cracked your neck.

"Here's how it's gonna be. First, Tara's gonna get out of here."

You turned your head towards the brunette who was speechless. Sam shook her slightly and nodded to tell her to leave, the student looked at her sister and you, then she left. Once you were sure she was out of danger, you continued.

"Now I'm going to let Sam take care of you detective. Ethan and I have some scores to settle."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead to the one your boyfriend sent you. He gritted his teeth. "Damn, who do you think you are, bitch ?"

You smirked at him. "You really think Samantha is the only one with a famous dad."

As the girl pointed her father's knife at Bailey, she frowned, just as confused as the two men in front of you.

"What the fuck are you talking about." Ethan shouted.

"I am Stu Macher's daughter." The boy's eyes widen. "You weren't expecting that one, were you ?"

"Liar." He accuses you.

You ran the tip of your gun through the brunette's curls.

"See, my mom was there that night at Stu's. She slept with him, and here I am."

You pressed your gun to his forehead. "And you see, it was after Anika's murder that I realized it was you. Seems like being crazy runs in your family."

"Slut." He screamed pushing you to the ground and throwing himself on you. Sam tried to help you but Bailey grabbed her by the hair.

He put his hands around your neck and squeezed. "Remind you of anything ? You liked it when we were fucking."

You tried to grab the gun that had slipped out of your hands but Ethan grabbed your arm and pulled it up above your head to stop you from grabbing it. He rubbed his pelvis against you. "Tell me, does it bring back memories or give you ideas ?"

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a shadow approaching while staying out of sight, it couldn't be Sam since you heard her fighting with Bailey. You thought Tara might have come back, you opened your mouth to ask for help and the person slid a knife towards you, you quickly grabbed it and turned to Ethan.

"Ideas."

You pierced his neck with the knife. He let go of you coughing blood, he fell backwards and you straddled him. You pulled the knife out and grabbed it with both hands, you lifted them above your head. "Say hello to your asshole brother." Then you slammed the knife into his chest and lowered it to his lower abdomen opening him like a fish.

You looked up at Sam and smiled as she held Bailey by the hair, forcing him to watch the scene. She leaned over and whispered to him. "Looks like you down another child." Then she slits his throat, the man fell forward and bled to death. A silence fell as you settled on the stairs behind you and sighed. Your friend imitated you and stuck to you.

"So you're Stu Macher's daughter."

You lowered your head. "Yes."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about it ?"

You closed your eyes. "I learned it after you left Woodsboro, at the time we didn't speak to each other anymore and after last year, I thought that everyone had had their dose of horrors, so I preferred to keep the secret."

The brunette took your hand. "I understand. But you're not alone, I'm here for you, we're here for you."

You smiled at her and rested your head on her shoulder.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After Danny brought renford home, and after being happily informed that Chad, Mindy and Gale were out of danger, you were standing next to the ambulance where Tara was being treated.

"Thank you Tara."

The brunette frowned, smiling. "Why are you thanking me ? You're the one who saved my life."

You roll your eyes. "Thank you for earlier, for giving me the knife when Ethan was on top of me."

The brunette's smile faded. "It was not me."

You froze, your body shivering.

The paramedics informed you that Tara needed to be taken to the hospital. "Are you going with her ?"

The brunette looked at you with a frown, you glanced towards the theatre. "Um, I'll meet you at the hospital." Without question the paramedics closed the doors and started for the hospital.

The police had left the scene taking the bodies of Ethan, Quinn and Bailey, leaving only traces of blood in the theater. You approached where you had been standing and tried to remember the scene. Who was this person ? You sighed, maybe you were dreaming, maybe the knife was already there. You were about to leave when a man's voice was heard behind you.

"Looks like Billy and I made it after all."

[shukein]

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿(𝘀): 𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗮, 𝗱𝗲𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲. 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿: 𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭.𝟬𝗸

𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂

today was like any normal day. when there was no lessons to attend to, no errands to run, just a normal day sleeping in the dorm. [name], in the midst of the early morning, could be found in the dorm's kitchen, cooking something nutritious that he and his other three idiots friends could eat.

he'd hum a quiet tune, his gaze focused on the eggs that slowly turned white in the pan, not yet realizing somebody walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, but a loud yawn did catch his attention.

"Mrah? Oh, henchman! You're up early..." the tired grim spoke, his tiny paws rubbing his eyes as he jumped onto the counter, wanting to see what the male was cooking.

"Hm, good morning, Grim. Are the others awake?" [name] inquires, placing the cooked eggs onto a plate as he grabs the pack of raw ham, given generously by Sam at his shop.

"Mm, no." "Ah, well could you go and wake 'em up for me?" [name] queries, placing a few slices into the pan, listening to the satisfying sound of it sizzling.

"Ugh... fine, but only because I get an excuse to hit Ace on the face." and with that, the small creature ascends back up the stairs, followed with a loud scream from ace and deuce, who soon enough chased the weasel down the stairs.

"Get back here, you stupid raccoon!" ace exclaims, chasing grim around the lounge along with deuce, who soon stops when he notices [name] cooking in the kitchen.

"Ah, morning, [Name]. What're you makin'?" deuce walks up behind the [h/c] boy, peering over his shoulder to see what was in the pan. "Eggs and ham. You think you can make some toast for us?"

deuce nods silently, grabbing bread from the cabinet and placing two into the toaster. he'd wait patiently for the bread to pop out of the toaster, having small conversations with the [h/c].

ace soon walks into the kitchen, holding grim from his neck as the latter would scratch at his hand, causing the red-head to hiss and yell at the weasel. "Oi, [Name]! Control your stupid cat here!"

"I'm not a cat! I am the Great Grim! Unhand me now!" [name] merely ignores the two, grabbing out the last few slices of ham out of the pan and placing them on another plate.

"Deuce, mind bringing some plates for us and the toast, please?" he'd grab the plate of eggs, walking past his two bickering friends and sparing his blue haired friend a glance before leaving the kitchen and walking into the lounge.

"Uh, yeah sure," deuce grabs the other slices of toast out of the toaster, placing them on a side plate before grabbing four other plates, heading into the lounge after the [h/c]. all the while ace and grim continued fighting with each other.

but the two soon joins in, hair and fur completely ruffled and a mess as they take a seat down on the ground as far away from each other as possible. "Mm, the food looks good! Nice job, [Name]!"

ace would complement, dishing out some ham and egg onto his plate, grabbing a toast as well as he takes a bite, a hum of satisfaction erupting from him.

"Yeah, maybe you could make me a delicious tuna sandwich, henchman!" grim pitches in, his paws reaching out to take a slice of ham before devouring it.

"Right, anyways, what do you think you got on Crewel's assignment?" [name] suddenly brings up, taking a bite of his toast as he spares the three a short glance.

ace groans in annoyance, simply rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of his food, "Ugh, don't even remind me. I don't wanna think about it." "Well, I bet I got an easy 100!" grim speaks up, a smug grin etched onto his lips.

"Oh, please, your barely passing his class." "Says you, Deuce, you get straight D's, I don't wanna hear you talk about me not passing!" [name] sighs as deuce and grim begin to bicker this time. ace leans back, staring at the [h/c].

"What about, [Name]? What d'you think you got?" [name] hums in thought, tapping his index finger onto the table, "Maybe and 80? I asked Azul and Riddle for help, so I'd hope I get something higher than a 70."

"What!? You cheater! You got Riddle to help you out?" ace and grim yell out in unison, eyes widened in shock. "And Azul didn't make you sign a contract for it?" deuce pitches in, equally shocked as the other two.

"Mhm. I made a promise to Riddle that I'd make him a strawberry tart, as well as helping Cater out with painting the roses for the next unbirthday party. As for Azul... well, I owe him a favor, so, no contracts needed for it."

"Ah, lucky. Though, I probably wouldn't ask that octopus for help. He'd force me to sign a contract, and I learned from my mistakes." ace would say gloomily, grabbing another slice of ham.

"Yeah, and if I were to ask Riddle for help, he'd chew me out for not understanding..." deuce mutters, equally as gloomy as he slowly chews his food.

"Ugh, [Name]! Why couldn't you have taken me with you so they could've helped me out too!?" grim exclaims, huffing out as his small paws slam against the table.

"Hm? I told you, but you said you could do it yourself. Besides, who was the one that said they got an 'easy 100' just a minute ago?" [name] responds, grabbing another egg and eating it.

"Hey! Don't use my words against me!" grim yells, exclaiming a loud groan of annoyance as he lays his body on the floor.

"Hah... whatever, at least I know I'm not the only one who probably failed..." deuce would say, leaning his body against the couch as he was seemingly finished with his food.

"Oi, don't lump me in with you and this guy, I never said I failed, I just didn't want to think about that stupid assignment." ace grumbles, glaring at the blue haired boy as he points down at the beastman who laid still on the floor.

"Ace, you barely pass Crewel's class either, I think it's fair that Deuce can lump you in with him and Grim." [name] would say, playfully rolling his eyes as he grabs the dirty dishes and heading into the kitchen.

"Huh?! What's that supposed to mean?" "Yeah, henchman! Explain yourself!" "I said what I said. You're all idiots."

"Huh?!"

©SHUKEIN. please do not translate or repost any of my work on any other platform, or claim any of it as your own. 2024

[thedaughterofadam]

@sams-darlin @kxemii as promised

Warning!: Gaslighting, mentions of drugging, Just Quin being himself. This may suck but please try to enjoy

A/N: I am a Darlin' kinnie, no I will not elaborate by saying I put my heart and soul into them.

Halloweek: Darlin' Edition

Darlin x Quin

When Darlin' was younger they loved Halloween. Scaring Milo and Asher with their costumes running a mock with Sweetheart as they emptied out pillowcases of candy. The year they met Quin, they went to a College Halloween party. Some gross drinks made with candy, the hookups in the hallways too strong cologne and perfume mixing together making Darlin' s nose itch. They had dressed up as a car technician repurposing a Michael costume they used to scare Milo, Quin dressed up as a werewolf opposite of what he was.

Darlin was drawn in by the humour, the way he tucked hair behind their ear to look into their eyes was a plus. Instant butterflies trying to keep up a gaurd that had faltered throughout the night. One of the girls they came with gave them a drink and the night got blurry.

Feeling safe as Quin had his arm around their shoulders to keep them steady. Maybe it should have been a red flag that Quin knew where they lived, or the fact he had snuck the key to their apartment off of their person. But what should have gotten his throat torn out was the bite to theirs.

Quin had a way before they had even started dating to make them feel stupid and small. Making them want one more with simple touches, the way his lips curved to smile was addicting. After that night Halloween just wasn't the same.

Their first Halloween together started off normally, the usual good morning text, in between class planning to hangout. Darlin' had reminded Quin from the middle of September throughout each of their plans that the 31st after classes they had to help make a parade float for the schools Halloween parade. Since their phone was dying they sent him a quick text saying They wouldn't answer for a bit.

Covered in paint, small foam bits in their hair, and their hands sore from having to do writing using their paint brushes all they wanted to do when they got home was sleep. Practically forcing themselves up the last step they noticed the door was open to their apartment and Quin had made himself at home.

His piercing gaze fixed on them as they entered their now trashed apartment was something they never wanted. "So what's his name thrall?"

Darlin' dropped their bag, trying to keep it cool, "I told you I wouldn't be able to answer I-", they were cut off to a vas being thrown past them, Quin getting up from his seat. "You couldn't take a break? Couldn't text me back it takes five seconds!"

Darlin' hated when he yelled, or threw things, it reminded them of their parents. Constantly fighting, pointing fingers but never talking. "Don't yell at me, I told you where I was going to be, what I was doing and that I wouldn't text you till later."

Quin looked down at them in contempt and amusement. "You're right."

Darlin' hated those words coming out of his mouth. Venom would always follow after and it felt like they were right back to being a kid and never being good enough.

"I mean look at you, who else would want you?", Quin grabbed their face, forcing them to look him in the eye as her berated their very being.

"You look like a mess half the time, and the other half like a whore.", he laughed letting go. It did a number on Darlin' the state of their home, the frustration from the float and now Quin's words. They had never wanted to hit or bite or scratch anyone that they loved. But one moment of seeing red can cost us our lives and in Darlin' s case it did.

Darlin's claws grew out of their nails, as they slashed Quin across the eye. His scream could be heard from the neighbors next door. One hospital trip and police visit no charges were brought up thanks to Quin. It was his word over theirs and they would be living with that scar and Quin's never ending guilt trip for years to come. His words from that Halloween forever echoing in their brain.

"Looks like I'm your knight in shining armour, but would that make you my damsel or the monster?"

[girls-alias]

Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester P9

Title: Have A Little Faith - Dean Winchester Part 9

Words: 998

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: SPOILERS S1E12

Taglist: @deans-baby-momma, @qinnroki, @moldyorangees, @creative-writing92, @lokischickadee, @take-it-on-the-run, @daisy-the-quake, @ilikw, @selfdestructionandrhum

Part 8

We pulled up to a tent in the middle of a muddy field. Dean instantly groaned in annoyance. I smirked to stop myself from laughing. Sam climbed out of the car and rushed to Dean's side to help. Sam helped him out of the car as I climbed out the other side.

"I've got it," Dean protested not wanting his help. Dean thought this was as ridiculous as I did. I walked around to be with Dean, he smiled at me weakly but rolled his eyes at Sam. "Man, you're a lying bastard. I thought you said we were going to see a doctor." Dean groaned as he slammed the car door.

"I believe I said a 'specialist'. Look, Dean, this guy is supposed to be the real deal," Sam argued but Dean sighed wrapping his arm over my shoulder and letting me help him walk.

"Man, I can't believe you brought me to see some guy who heals people out of a tent," Dean groaned as he walked, most of his weight resting on my shoulders.

"Reverend le Grange is a great man." Some old woman commented as she walked past. I raised an eyebrow stopping myself from laughing.

"Yeah, that's nice," Dean's tone showed how enlightening her comment was. I chuckle, earning a smile from Dean. Sam watched as someone argued with a police officer. "What do you say we leave Sam here," Dean whispered in my ear making me giggle as I shook my head continuing to lead him to the tent.

"Look, when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam commented not noticing that Dean and I were talking about something else.

"Yeah but come on, Sam. A faith healer?" Dean questioned.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam commented but Dean scoffed. Dean seemed to think for a second before he spoke.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's going on." Dean seemed to burst so I stopped to look at him. He seemed surprised that I stopped so pulled away to look at me confused.

"If you know evil is out there how can't you believe good's out there too?" Sam asked but Dean's eyes were on me. Searching my face to find the answer as to why I stopped.

"You asked to keep me if you survived," I reminded and he placed a hand on my cheek, clearly noticing my eyes filling at the thought of Dean not even willing to try anything to be cured. He stepped towards me. "I just thought you'd be willing to fight. We've all seen what evil does to good people from hunting and we're always the ones fighting to save them. We're the good in the world, we save them when no God does but to save you we need help, Sam and I are fighting for you like he always does on hunts but this time praying to some idea of hope is better than doing nothing at all," I ranted and Dean smiled as he sighed. He licked his lips and nodded. I smiled, searching his face.

"I'd like to kiss you right now," He commented staring at me deeply, his eyes searching for the tiniest bit of evidence that I didn't want him to. I glanced at Sam seeing him smiling and turning to look the other way. I grinned before grabbing the back of Dean's neck and guiding myself to him. He smiled as he leaned down to kiss me. It was slow but full of meaning. I pulled away to smile up at him, and he seemed to just smile at me for a moment, it was plain to see that he was happy.

"Aw, what a beautiful newlywed couple," An old woman commented as she passed us. I rolled my eyes, God I hate religion buffs. Dean chuckled as he watched me.

"Let's just get this over with so we can leave," I sighed making Dean chuckle as he put his arm over my shoulder again we were about to walk in when a woman stepped in front of us.

"God works in mysterious ways," The skinny blonde with a fake smile beamed at Dean. Is this bitch blind? Is that why she's here she clearly mustn't see me standing here.

"Maybe he does," I replied mocking her voice slightly. She didn't even look at me she just kept smiling at Dean. My Dean! My focus was on the woman but I could see Sam trying not to laugh. "You've convinced him, maybe you should move out the way so we can get in and you can put your umbrella away," I don't why I was saying it, she just looked stupid. The high-maintenance type cries if her hair gets wet.

"I'm Dean, this is Sam-" Dean started introducing and I questioned if he even remembered I was there. This boy is trying to be killed. "And this is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N," He finished and I smiled to myself realising I was so annoyed at this bitch flirting with Dean in front of me that I thought too soon.

"I'm Layla," She added shaking Dean's hand and no one else's. I ran my tongue across my teeth. I will hit her, I will make out with Dean right now to mark my territory. Maybe Dean's too attractive. She went to speak so I coughed loudly and walked through Dean and Layla's eye contact as I marched into the tent. Dumb blonde thinking she can have Dean if she makes googly eyes at him. I took a seat saving space for Sam and Dean but right now I didn't care if someone took the seats.

Dean's too attractive! I rolled my eyes as I crossed my arms. I sunk into my chair huffing and puffing as I waited for the service to start. Who am I kidding? Dean is too hot. Everyone is going to fall in love with him.

Masterlist

Working On

Taglist

Part 10

[deanwritings]

FwB: Chapter 10 - Blurred Lines

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: FwB - Friends with Benefits.

After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

FwB - Master List

Word Count: 2,132

Warning: 18+ themes and language.

Gif:

A/N: This is it!! The final chapter!!

The drive back was excruciating, and not just because of how beaten up you were. You and Sam, despite how tired you both were, were working overtime to make sure Dean wouldn’t fall asleep. You were still worried about a potential brain bleed with how hard he smacked his head, and if he got more than an hour of sleep, you had to wake him up and check his vitals. To say he was cranky was an understatement. He would swat you away any time you tried to check him, and any attempts to keep him awake with conversation was met with a wall of silence. 

You weren’t sure if it was because he got his ass kicked or if he was still pissy following your talk. All of your anger and pain had faded away when you saw him crumpled up on the car. Now all you cared about was making sure he was okay. But Dean seemed to be holding a grudge either against you or the monster. Maybe both. 

Sam, who is normally happy to keep to the speed limit, hightailed it back to the bunker, managing to get you back in under eight painful hours. 

As you drag yourselves through the garage and into the bunker, you let your bags fall at the table. Sam disappears down the hallway, his brother right behind him, but you reach out to grab Dean before he could follow.  

“Hey, I know you’re exhausted but you can’t go to bed.” You offer gently. You and Sam would need to still keep an eye on him for the next sixteen hours. If he managed to go a full day without any worsening symptoms, he would be in the clear. Until then, he would have to have to be under someone’s observation. Since Sam drove the whole way back, you offered up the first watch.

“I don’t need you to babysit me.” He snaps, pulling his arm out of your grasp. You frown at him and cross your arms. 

“I’m not babysitting you, I’m taking care of you. Don’t be an asshole about it.” You huff, turning away from him and digging into your bag for a hoodie, the bunker cold from a lack of heat while you had been gone. 

“It’s not like I want to sit around and watch you. I would much rather grab some sleep, too.” You remind him. It’s not like you were doing this for fun. You were going on about an hour or so of sleep, maybe, not to mention all the alcohol that had been in your system when you had been abruptly awakened. And it’s not like Dean was the only one injured. Your side was still aching, as was your shoulder, but you kept that to yourself, considering Dean was much worse off than you. 

“I’m not your problem.” He grunts, but settles himself down at the table anyways, replacing the first aid kit ice pack back on his head after taking it off when you first arrived back. 

“I could definitely argue that you’re a problem right now.”  You mutter under your breath as you pull your sweatshirt over your head, but as you settle into the fabric, you catch a roll of Dean’s eyes. He’s heard you. 

“Stop being a baby and suck it up.” You say louder, meaning for him to hear you this time. 

Dean grumbles something, but unlike him, you can make it out.

“What?” You snap.

Between the pain of your likely broken rib and your exhaustion, mixed in with Dean’s nonstop shitty attitude, you’ve just about had enough. 

So let’s just say you weren’t in the mood for whatever bullshit he was about to start with. 

Dean just stares you down, his lips pursing as he decides if he wants to actually speak up louder. 

“Just say it,” you order. If he wanted a fight, so be it. Anger was a great replacement for pain. If he wants to have a temper tantrum like a toddler, you’ll stomp your feet and yell just as loud as he can. 

Bring it on, bud. 

“Why’d you end it?” He asks quietly, his tone a complete shift, and you're thrown off by his question. 

You open your mouth, but words evade you.

Why the hell was he bringing this back up now?

“Why does it matter?” You turn away from him, rezipping your bag as a way to distract yourself from the question. 

“Because I want to know – that’s why.” He states matter of factly, as if that’s the only explanation he needs. And maybe it is. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head. Is it even worth telling him? 

Once Dean was in the clear, you weren’t planning on staying around. You had made up your mind last night that you were going to leave the bunker for a while. You weren’t sure how long, and if you would make your way back, but you needed space from Dean. You needed time away to let your heart heal. Because if you had to see Dean every day, watch him fall back to his normal patterns of flirting with waitresses and disappearing on Friday nights, you would never recover.  

So if you did decide to tell him, you wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would surely follow. 

But with how pissed Dean was, it didn’t seem like the right time to pour your heart out to him. 

Instead of answering, you just sigh, not able to come up with a good enough lie that would get him off your back. 

Without a word, you stand up from your bag. If you weren’t going to answer him, you might as well walk away from him. Maybe if you take long enough, his concussed brain will forget he even asked you. Which was an awful thought, but this was an awful conversation. 

“For the record,” Dean’s voice follows you as you’re about to step into the hallway. “I wasn’t ready for it to end.” 

Your breath catches as your feet stop. 

What the hell did he just say?

You pivot, not fully turning towards him, but enough to make sure you could see him.

“What?” You don’t mean for it to come out harsh, but your disbelief is short circuiting your brain. 

Dean drops the ice pack from his head onto the table and stands up. He takes a few long strides towards you, but you don’t move.

“Look,” he waves his hand. “I know you had that rule that you can back out at any time.” He continues getting closer. “And I respect that.” You now turn your full body to him, only steps away. “But you owe me why.” He stops in front of you, his green eyes staring down at you.

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you can almost feel him he’s so close.

“Why can’t you just let it be?” You whisper, your voice failing you. 

You watch as his eyes scan your face, and as you feel tears prickle at your eyes, you hope that in the dimness of the bunker, he can’t see them. 

“Because I don’t want to.” His voice matches yours as he continues to watch for your reaction.

When you don’t answer, he leans in closer, and without thinking, you close your eyes and lean into his touch, until your lips find his, moving slow and steady, both of you taking your time, savoring the feeling as your fists ball up against his chest and his hands cup your cheeks. 

Your heart feels like it’s going to explode, completely overwhelmed. Your lips begin to quiver.

It’s too much.

“Dean,” your voice breaks as you pull away. You feel a tear push past your lash, trailing down your cheek. “Please don’t do this.” You swallow hard. It was all too much. The pain, the exhaustion, the fighting, and now, whatever the hell this was. Your thoughts were completely jumbled and your head felt it was going to explode from the pressure of confusion. 

You feel him recoil away from you, his hands dropping from your face as you open your eyes. He’s somehow already put space between you, his head cocked away from you, his eyes shut and jaw tight. 

Your hands shake as more tears pool in your eyes, spilling over without hesitation. 

“Dean,” you call out to him, but he won’t look at you as you watch his cheeks flex at the sound of your voice.

He was right. You at least owed him this. And it felt like it was going to crush you if you kept it in any longer. 

“I broke it off because I blurred the lines.” You admit hastily, part of you hoping your words were jumbled enough that he won’t fully hear you. But as he slowly finds your gaze, his eyes are glossy and confused. 

You take a deep breath, shaking your head, tears splattering on the ground.

“It started off as sex, but somewhere along the way, all the late nights together, I.” You take a deep breath as your heart pounds in your chest, your hands tingling. “I wanted more. I want more.” You correct yourself with a humorless laugh, knowing that’s something Dean can’t give you. You shake your head and lick your dry lips.

“And I know that’s not what you do, Dean. You don’t do relationships, and that’s okay. That was never the agreement. But I can’t just be your fuck buddy anymore, Dean.” You feel resolution flow through you at your honesty, the words and feelings you had been battling against for weeks finally set free, and you take a deep breath and square off your shoulders, your tears subsiding. 

“Why?” His eyes find yours, and your shoulders drop as your heart breaks all over again.

Because now you’re seeing what you had missed when you were in the motel; it wasn’t a bruised ego. It was Dean Winchester’s worthlessness enveloping him. Just another person in his life he wasn’t good enough for that was leaving him. 

“Dean,” your voice breaks. This time, you walk towards him, and his eyes never leave yours as you take his large, calloused hands in yours. You refuse to break his gaze, and it sets your resolution for your next words.

“You are the best man I have ever met. You care and love like no one else.” You swallow, a smile painting your lips as your next words come to mind. “All wrapped up in one handsome and sex-defying package.” You laugh as more tears fall, and your chest warms as a smile breaks out on Dean’s face, his tongue running over his lips as he shakes his head.

His fingers play along your palm, and he swallows before speaking again. 

“Sweetheart, all I want from you is more.” He whispers. “And yeah, me and relationships have never really worked, but if you let me, I’ll give you everything I’ve got.” His eyes shine down at you, and you can hear in his voice, he means every single word. 

You nod your head vigorously, your hands jumping up to his face and pulling him down to meet your lips. His arms encircle your waist, lifting you off the ground as he pulls you against him as you smile against each other. You wince as he unknowingly digs into your injured side, breaking the kiss as he sets you down on your feet, concern etched onto his features. 

“I’m fine,” you assure him before he can ask. “Just a bruise,” you fib, knowing that if you tell him the truth, he’ll go into doctor mode and begin fussing over you, and you aren’t willing to lose this moment just yet. 

You move your hand from his cheek and brush his hair away from his forehead, careful to avoid the bump.

You frown.

“This better not be the concussion speaking.” You narrow your eyes at him, though a smirk tugs at your lips. 

Dean just shakes his head at you.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” His arms tighten around your hips this time to avoid your “bruise” again as his eyebrows quirk up.

“Well I think I’m your pain in the ass now, so you better get used to it.” You grin, your hand falling to the nape of his neck. 

“I think I can get used to that.” His eyebrows raise with a grin as his hands find your ass, giving it a squeeze. 

“You're incorrigible.” You huff with a smile. 

“Well you better get used to it,” he mimics you, leaning back down and finding your lips again.

That's all folks! Hope you enjoyed it. See you next time!

FINAL FwB TAG LIST

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[kittyamore0]

𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫

༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉

༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉

[PART II]

RATING: SFW

FANDOM/GENRE: Horror, dark romance, scream 6, Ghostface, Ethan Landry

WRITING STYLE: One-shot

TAGS: @kittiescrownedsoul, @zspen, @h34rtsformilli, @alice121804, @kylespencersvocalcords, @babywantskith

REMINDER: Do NOT translate, transfer, modfiy, copy or steal my ideas!

CW: Attempted murder, stalking, stabbing, breaking and entering, usage of a knife, knife mentions, fighting, shouting/screaming, swearing, blood, passing out

༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉

"You fuck up!" An angry Quinn slams her hand on the small, wooden coffee table. "I wasn't going to sit there and watch you kill the love of my life!" Quinn scoffs. "Richie didn't care about trying to kill Sam!" Ethan rolled his eyes. "That's because he was with Amber! He didn't care about Sam, none of them did! Billy, Stu...I care about [Name!]"

Quinn lets out a frustrated groan. "You fucking virgin..." Ethan shrugged. "That changed with [Nam ]" Quinn pretends to gag. "Dude, overshare!" Ethan raises his hands in a 'whatever' matter.

"Dad won't be happy about this. You're messing up the plan...!" Ethan mumbled 'i dont care...' to which Quinn responded by bumping into him, hard.

She slammed the door shut, making Ethan flinch. "Cranky..." He faked shivered.

↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔

You hummed while listening to music on your headphones, glancing outside your house window, remembering your terrifying experience on the makeshift ladder while trying to escape.

You shook your head and lifted your shoulders up and down, continuing on munching on your small snack.

Your phone rang. You were hesitant to pick up after seeing the callers ID, 'unknown caller,' but it could be Gale, prank-ers, etc...

You decided to play the safe game by hanging up, nibbling on your sweet treats.

You received another phone call again. You started getting pissed off and grabbed it in a swift motion, 'Tara' it read.

You took a deep breath in before answering and putting the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Tara, whats up?"

You could hear faint breathing from the other side.

"Hello, [Name]..."

Your breathing stopped, all of your movements stopped.

That same fucking deep, moderated Ghostface voice.

"How have you been since the last time we met, hmm? That ladder stunt you pulled was impressive, but incredibly bitchy at the same time..."

You turned to your window and then your door.

"You're acting like you wouldn't pull something like that if you were on the brick of death, cocky asshole."

They chuckled.

"You've got a point, so vulgar though..."

You scoffed.

"Says the fucker who said my surviving skills were bitchy!" "Feisty, i like it..."

You grimaced.

"Fuck you, you perv!"

You ran to your knife holder, pulling out a knife. You were about to hang up until you heard Ghostface shriek.

"Hang up and ill have you hanging on those trees on your front porch like ornaments, and we all know Its too early for Christmas so you'll be an early Christmas gift! You hear me?!"

You smiled and flashed a smile grin.

"You think I'm scared of you now? Maybe at when i was on the ladder, but this is my house and I'm for sure not gonna let you parade around MY house trying to kill me and doing whatever the fuck you want!"

You hanged up, stuffing your phone in your pocket. At first, it was quiet. You stayed still trying to figure out where Ghostface could be hiding.

You heard some clothes shuffling in the background. There. You swung your head to the left of you and a gloved hand holding a knife came in contact with your right that held nothing.

You kicked the figure in the back of their knee, making them fumble forwards. You held your knife and swung it at them, but they had also lifted their knife, clashing it against yours.

During that process, the knife in your hand flew from the impact. "Fuck!" They tried stabbing you again, but you dodged by crouching under their arm and running to the kitchen counters.

They were hot on your tail. Your current goal was to get another knife, but chances were slim with this fucker running and partying. You pulled on one of your cabinets, letting it fly right into Ghostfaces mask, hitting them directly without the mask too.

You reached out to the knife holder, until the clothed arms slithered around your waist. They raised the knife and let it sink into your waist. You scream in pain.

You lifted your right foot up and then down, kicking them from your behind, pushing them back too. The knife went with them as they flew.

You took this chance to run upstairs, going into your bedrooms closet and stuffing yourself behind a suitcase.

↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔

"Goddammit...where did she go?" Ethan huffed in frustration. Text after text, Quinn didn't respond. He passed the room she was staying in, sending another text, but hearing the notification come from her room.

He opened the door to her room, slowly going in after curiosity got to him. He spotted Quinns phone on her bed. "She probably forgot to take this..." He grabbed her phone while it switched on.

'Tara and [Name] have to be got to be taken care of.'

What...?

He opened her phone, and paused before putting the password in. He scrolled through messages until he found the message between Quinn and detective Bailey.

Quinn: Im telling you. That fucker, [Name], has Ethan under control! He beat the shit out of me for trying to kill her. If i wasn't wearing the mask, i would have a massive black eye! Detective Bailey: Tara troublesome too. More than Mindy. Quinn: Mindy's such a fuck ass. Nagging about whose this whose that, what can be the killer or what cannot. Killer history! I never asked for it. Detective Bailey: Well, we have to be patient. Quinn: No, the fuck we dont. I dont even have the patience either. That bitch, [Name], is getting me on my nerves. I have a plan anyways. Detective Bailey: And what is that plan, Quinn? Quinn: You go for Tara, i go for [Name]. We get rid of them and dont tell Ethan the plan. Detective Bailey: What do you suggest we do other than what you said? Quinn: I just need Taras phone, to call [Name], then you can have your way with Tara while i have mine with [Name]. Detective Bailey: Alright.

"Shit!" Ethan rushed out of Quinns room, running towards his own. He fell foward into his room, scrambling to get his own Ghostface costume.

"No...no, no, no!" Tears build up in his eyes

↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔↔ᰔᩚ↔

You sighed in relief, feeling your phone still in the same place you had left it.

You dialed the police, explaining your situation to them. They asked you to stay on call, but the closet door burst opened. Ghostface. Out of panic, you hanged up and put a hand over your mouth, also putting your phone on silent and low light.

They rummaged through your clothes, even taking some out. They grunted and slammed the door.

After a few minutes of silence, you crawled out of your closet. You put a hand over your chest, in relief that they werent here, but wait... something felt wrong?

You turned around to see Ghostface charging at you. You yelped and threw yourself to the left again, making them miss their hit and run.

They turned around and lifted the knife in their hand. You ducked under their arm and grabbed the lamp of the nearby, throwing it at their mask, causing them to grunt.

You tried to take another swing before Ghostface held your right arm that held the lamp. You brought your foot up and kicked their arm away. You hit them with the lamp. Right and then left, their head went.

You ran out of the room and slammed the door closed. You heard your door crack from how hard the door hit. Your throat felt tight, the collar of your shirt was snatched, but as soon as it was snatched, it was let go.

You heard a grunt and felt the Ghostface chasing you not so hot on your trail anymore. You turned around to see two Ghostface brawling it out.

"What the fuck...?" One of them jumped at you and hugged your body, pushing you away from the other one trying to snatch up.

The Ghostface that was holding you pushed you aside and punched the first Ghostface to appear. The first Ghostface to appear hit the back of their head on the hallway mirror.

The second Ghostface grabbed the same mirror and smashed it on the other Ghostface head, making them go limp and all movements stilled.

The other turned to you, and you stayed put, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, they embraced you, before pushing you away. "Leave. You're bleeding..." You nodded, confused.

You turned around and ran downstairs, limping your way onto your porch and streets. Your vision went black and everything had caught up to you. You were just saved by a Ghostface and your waist is bleeding as in status SOS!

Your head throbbed and everything twisted and turned in your vision.

The last thing you remember was losing your breath before hitting the concrete ground.

༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉

༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉༉𓆩❀˚𓆪༉

[ourtearsofrain]

Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 4

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: ANGST

Word Count:  1.8k

Warnings: ouid consumption, Sam and Danny fight again and Danny gives him a harsh reality check, Sammy boy’s going through it and his family is worried about him

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

“Alright, I gotta take a leak.” Josh slaps his hands on his thighs, a classic midwestern habit he would never be able to get rid of no matter how long he lived in New York. As he stands, he sways slightly as the half of a joint he smoked catches up to him. He grabs Jake’s shoulder for support, trying to pass him but only succeeding in bumping into his camping chair and nearly toppling the pair over.

“I’m gonna go with him, make sure he doesn’t fall off a cliff or something.” Jake stands, offering his arm out to his brother for support as he takes cautious steps over the loose rocks below them.

Fuck. They’re seriously going to leave me alone with him? The pit in Danny’s stomach only grows as the twins disappear into the trees, the sounds of Jake trying to keep Josh on the path growing quieter and quieter by the moment. Just look anywhere but him. Anywhere but him, it’s that easy. He distracts himself by focusing on the rocks below him, beginning to balance them on top of each other. He can feel Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye and after five minutes, it finally gets on his nerves.

“Do you have something to say?” Danny didn’t mean for his question to sound so harsh, but it comes off angry nonetheless.

“No.” Sam looks away quickly, down at his hands as he picks his cuticles in his lap.

“Then find something else to do than stare, please.” Sam says nothing more, not once glancing back at Danny as he continues stacking the river rocks, looking up at Sam every so often to make sure he wasn’t looking at him. Why the fuck do you care if he’s looking?

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Sam’s question comes out of nowhere, and for the first time in years, he makes direct eye contact with Danny, his expression serious and unfaltering.

“What?”

“Did you find whatever it was that you were looking for? In New York. Are you- are you happy?”

Danny can’t tell if the weed was impairing his thought process or if Sam truly was making no sense, taking longer than he should have to consider his words. “I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m looking for. I’m happy… I could be happier.” Jesus fuck, remind me never to smoke around Sam anymore. The man ignores me for years and then the second he starts asking questions I’m an open fucking book.

“What would make you happier?”

You. Danny catches himself before he says the word, shaking his head at Sam as he tries to come up with any other answer. “I don’t know, but I do know it’s better than staying here.” If he gets to say cryptic shit, then so do I.  “Maybe I just moved to the city hoping the noise drowned out the regret.”

“What regret?”

Fuck. I wasn’t actually expecting him to ask. Danny fixes him with a blank expression, deep-rooted pain flashing behind his eyes. “I think you know. Why do you even care?”

Sam’s glad Danny isn’t close enough to see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and he hoped that when he found his words, they wouldn’t betray him. “So, you regret it?”

“Yes. I do.” Of course I fucking regret it. If I hadn’t kissed him, we would still be friends. I could still have him in my life, even if it wasn’t in the way that I wanted it to be.

“Good to know.” Sam picks his book up again, opening to a random page and hoping that Danny would drop the subject before it made him cry.

“Why the fuck do you keep bringing the kiss up, Sam?” Danny stares daggers at him, anger welling in his stomach as Sam shows so little emotion towards the event that ruined their friendship. “It’s in the past, move on.”

Sam looks up from his book, his eyes darting between Danny and anything else in the clearing he could distract himself with. “We just never talked about it.”

“And who’s fucking fault is that?” Danny saw that his comment hurt Sam, his features twisting slightly as if he were on the verge of tears, but it’s not enough. He continues, bringing every feeling he had to the surface as Sam blinks back tears. “You know what your problem is, Sam? You’re stuck in the past while everyone else around you moves forward. Leave the past where it belongs, or you’ll be left behind.”

He stands as if to leave, only turning and taking two steps before Sam’s voice stops him. “I’m not- I’m not stuck in the past.”

“Yes, you fucking are!” Danny rounds on him, his voice raised in his frustration. “You’re too focused on the past, on the kiss, on all of us leaving to actually live in the moment. We aren’t 18-year-old kids fresh out of high school anymore, we’re adults. You’re going to need to grow the fuck up at some point, and for your sake I hope that happens soon.”

“Fuck you.” His voice is quiet as a tear rolls down his cheek, not bothering to wipe it away as more come.

“NO, FUCK YOU SAM! You’re a fucking coward. Too scared to talk about the goddamn kiss so you ignored me, your closest friend, for three years. Too scared to move away from Frankenmuth so still living with your parents. Too scared to actually take control of your life so you study fucking business. What the fuck happened to astronomy, Sam? What happened to the boy I knew who was excited for his future after graduation, who was so passionate about following his dreams and getting out of Michigan?” Danny takes a deep breath, waiting to see if Sam had anything to fling back at him for his outburst. He thought seeing him cry at his truthful words would make him feel better. It didn’t. “If you find that boy again, tell him I fucking miss him. I want that Sam, my Sam, back.”

Danny turns before his tears escape his eyes, hastily making a grab for his shoes and shirt as he storms away from the clearing. He doesn’t even feel the sticks and stones stabbing the bottoms of his feet or the blistering asphalt until he’s safe in his old room, every ache riddling his body hitting him all at once as he sinks to the floor, holding his face in his hands until there are no more tears left in him to cry.

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

June 30th, 2:42 PM

Danny had blocked that day from his memory, doing his best to enjoy his summer without focusing on every negative thing being back in Frankenmuth brought back. He hadn’t seen Sam since, but what did he care?

“Hey Danny?”

He cracks his eyes open, squinting at Josh as they lay on the beach of Saginaw Bay sunbathing after several hours in the water. “Hm?”

“Did you and Sam get into a fight after Jake and I left? When we went to the watering hole.”

“I don’t know if I would call it a fight.”

“Then what would you call it?” Jake’s head pops up on the other side of Josh as he sits up, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I kind of… maybe yelled at him. A lot. He cried.” Danny keeps his response short, not wanting to get into the details of it. But the twins, being who they were, needed to know more.

“What did you say?” Josh’s voice is quiet, his mind racing between every possible thing Danny could have said to leave Sam the way they found him; alone, sitting on that same rock, sobbing.

“I called him a coward. Said he wasn’t the same boy I knew before I left.” His voice breaks as he remembers how angry he was, how disappointed at the man in front of him he had been. And worst of all, Sam’s expression. He knew he should have stopped himself; he shouldn’t have said such harsh things, even though they were the truth. He had watched Sam crumble away at each blow, but even that hadn’t stopped him. He had wanted Sam to hurt as much as he had. Just another thing to add to my list of regrets.

Jake and Josh exchange a look, seemingly telepathically communicating before Jake speaks for them. “You need to talk to him, Daniel.”

“No.” His response comes too quick, trying to backpedal as he stumbles over his thoughts. “I mean, he won’t talk to me. He didn’t want to talk to me before, so he definitely won’t talk to me now.”

“Please. Do it for us.” Jake’s statement makes almost no sense until his twin cuts in.

“We’re worried about him, mom and dad too. We don’t know what to do, Danny.”

Danny sits up, the broken tone of his statement sending his anxiety spiraling. “Why are you worried about him?”

“He’s moody, stays in his room all day. And yeah, he’s been like this since we all left but… but it’s worse now. He won’t talk to us, he barely comes down to eat. We invited him to join us today without telling him you’d be here, and he still refused. Any time any of us try to go talk to him about what’s going on, he gets angry, yells at us until we leave. We don’t know how to help him. We just- we just want our little brother back, Danny.” Danny’s regret only grows as tears glint in Josh’s eyes as he explains, feeling completely responsible for the state that Sam was in.

“If anyone can help him, it’s you. You might not be close anymore, but we know he would still hold your opinion and advice higher than ours.” Jake finishes, both men looking at him with pleading expressions.

They think I’m their last hope. “Fine.” The twins’ faces flicker with optimism at his agreement, causing Danny to continue. “But I can’t make any promises that he’ll even talk to me. He hates me and we’re strangers to each other at this point, I don’t know why you guys think it’ll work. But I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

“I knew we could count on you.” Josh moves to his knees in the sand, leaning forward to close the distance between them to hug Danny.

“I said I’ll try, not that it’ll work. The second he yells, I’m out.”

“Understandable. And that’s all we’re asking of you, Danny. To try. Know that it means the world to us.”

I just have to try to reason with a man that hates me after I berated him a week ago. How hard can it be? Where the fuck do I even start?

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

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @sanguinebats @theres-a-tvjoe @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @currentlyfangirling10

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, smut, fem!receiving

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean doesn't want to talk about this inside the Bunker where you're at because he doesn't want you to know about this. He called Cas to come out right after discovering that your blue magic was pouring out of his hands last night. All three men are standing outside the Bunker while Dean tries to conjure the magic from last night.

"Okay, I can't do it now but I swear, Cas, I had her magic."

Cas lifts his hand and checks on the status of your soul which still has slivers of darkness in it.

"Her soul still isn't ready but it's almost there. It's getting lighter every day. I can only assume that since you have her soul in you and her magic is tied to her soul, you have access to her magic."

Dean opens and closes his mouth as he thinks of something to say. Sam slaps his brother's arm and Dean looks at him like he's crazy.

"Dude, this can work. If you can learn how to control this, that gives us a real shot at beating Y/N."

"I don't know," Dean sighs.

"The only way to get her back to who she was before is to take that mark off her body and shove her soul back in. All you need to worry about is her magic and her soul, and we'll worry about the Mark."

"What if she finds out? She'll kill my kids," Dean almost cries.

"If you act like nothing is wrong, then she won't know to suspect anything. Look, Cas and I will go find a way to get this Mark off. Just keep her here and keep her distracted. Tell her I'm seeing a French film." Dean still doesn't look convinced. "You said it yourself. You promised her that you'd stop looking. I never promised anything. This way, you get to keep your hands clean."

"Fine," Dean sighs.

Sam and Dean head back into the Bunker while Cas waits outside. You're still inside your room where you've been all night so Sam quickly and quietly packs a bag. He pats his brother on the shoulder as he leaves, and Dean sighs at the thought of being alone with you. He walks over to your room reluctantly because what is he even going to say? What is there to say? He stands in the hallway looking like an idiot when your door opens. His mouth goes dry when he sees you standing in your room wearing one of your most revealing lingerie sets. Your ass is on display, your nipples poke through the very thin fabric of your bra, and your skin glows from the moisturizer you just put on.

"What are you doing?" he asks with hooded eyes.

"How do I look?" you grin and turn to him.

"Hot but what are you doing?"

"I got bored and decided to try some of these on." You walk over to Dean and lean against the door frame. "Where's Sam?"

"To Witchita to see a movie."

"So, what you're saying is we have the Bunker to ourselves?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good."

You grab Dean's shirt and pull him toward you, and he doesn't know what to do when your lips slant against his. It's been so long since he's felt your lips on his, your body on his. You might be soulless and want to kill him but you're still you. Dean fights against himself to reject you but he doesn't. You feel too good to pull away from.

"Get in here and remind me what it feels like to have you in bed."

Dean steps inside the room and slams the door behind him. You don't care about Dean. You don't have feelings for him. What you do care about is the mind-blowing orgasm you know he can give you. Dean knows he shouldn't do this but he isn't thinking with his upstairs brain right now. He can't think about anything right now with the way you're running your hands over his body like that.

"Well? Aren't you going to touch me?"

Dean backs you up to the bed and you fall down onto it. He leans over you and decides to start from the very top. He peels off the straps on your shoulders and with each piece of new skin, he presses kisses against you, licking thin lines down your body. He reaches around your chest to unclasp your bra, tossing the offending material out of the way. He peppers light kisses around the skin of your breasts before attaching his lips to the place you need him. He wraps his lips around your right nipple while his hand pinches your left. 

One of the most sensitive spots on your body are your nipples, and the tugging of his lips and fingers sends waves of pleasure down to your core. You don't give him the noises he wants but your body tells him everything he needs to know about you. You like this but your pride won't let you tell him verbally. Popping the hard bud out of his mouth, he grins as he kisses all the way down to your panty line.

"So pretty for me. Bet you look even prettier with them off."

"Only one way to find out, Winchester."

He reaches down and unhooks the straps connecting your panties and your tights so he can remove the one piece of material that's truly in his way. He can smell just how needy you are when he slides off your panties. He likes the way your legs look with the tights and heels, so he opts to leave them on. With nothing standing in his way, he spreads your legs. He is definitely going to Hell. He shouldn't want this but he does.

"So pretty and pink," he mutters.

"Are you gonna eat me or do I have to get my vibrator to come do your job for you?"

He immediately dives right in. He hooks your legs over his shoulders so that he can have better access to your dripping pussy. He licks one thick stripe up your slit, gathering the juices that have leaked out of you. He wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks hard, causing you to let out an unexpected squeal.

"Fuck!"

He moves his tongue back down to your entrance and shoves his tongue in without warning. One hand keeps your thighs open while the other rests on your lower stomach so that his thumb can work over your clit. He licks you from wall to wall, swirling it around to taste every inch of you. His thumb rubs hard circles around your clit, feeling the small nub throb from the pressure. He pinches your clit and rolls it around between his fingers, feeling you right at the edge. He gives a single swish of his tongue, and you're toppling over the edge.

You refuse to say his name but you do moan loudly from the pleasure. Your hand flies to the back of his head, and you hold him there while you ride out your orgasm. Your legs shake from how intense it is, and he licks every drop you have to give him. When he pulls away from you, his beard is glistening with your orgasm.

"Fuck," you whisper. 

He crawls up your body and kisses you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

"Now fuck me," you say against his lips.

"Who am I to deny you?"

He stands up to his full height and grips your waist, flipping you over so that you're now lying flat on your stomach. He pulls your hips to meet his, your ass now sticking in the air for him while the rest of your body is smushed into the sheets below. He strips himself free of his clothing and his hard cock bounces free. You peek over your shoulder to see him stroking himself, and your pussy clenches at the thought of having his cock inside you. Dean is a big man in general, and even his hand can't fit all the way around him. He might be an ass but he's damn good at sex. 

You spread your legs further to entice him and he takes the bait. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before sliding himself in. He doesn't exactly take it slow, but he isn't slamming into you. Your pussy flutters all around him, and he begins to move. In and out, slowly at first. When he knows you can take more, he picks up the pace. He feels your need and lust for him even if it is only momentary, and he's going to give you exactly what you want. He grips your hips and holds you steady before slowly pulling all the way out and slamming right back in. 

"Fuck!" you scream.

He keeps the brutal pace, pounding so fast that the only thing that can be heard from inside the room is both of your pants, your drawn-out moans, and skin slapping against skin. Pleasure stems from your pussy and shoots out in every direction, numbing your whole body in the most delicious of ways.

"Fuck," you groan, "I'm going to come. Please don't stop."

"Go ahead. Come."

You clench hard around him but he still finds a way to shove himself deeper into you. He taps your g spot from behind, and the dam breaks. You and Dean come together at the same time, and you feel both of your orgasms mix together inside of you. His thrusts begin to slow down until he is finished. He pulls out of you and watches as the evidence of your activity drips out of your pussy and down your thighs. He flips down on the bed next to you, and you turn your head to face him.

"Okay, maybe you're good for one thing," you smirk.

Dean closes his eyes and tries not to think of what his brother would say if he found out about this. Sam and Cas have been driving in silence for an hour when Sam breaks it.

"Thanks for coming, Cas," Sam says.

"Of course. How is Y/N doing?"

"Not good, Cas. She's stealing power from people. That's why she wants to hunt. She's feeding this Mark with power. This is exactly what we've been trying to avoid this whole time."

Cas sighs and looks out the window in thought.

"The Mark is going to consume her from the inside out the longer she goes without her soul. We need to cure her fast. At least without the Mark, we'll be rid of our biggest problem."

"Would she still have magic without the Mark?"

"I don't think so. I think the Mark gave her magic to help feed it."

The entrance to Heaven is located at a children's park in Witchita. There aren't children playing when they get there, only two people who are pretending to enjoy themselves. To anyone else, it looks creepy because they're just sitting there lightly swinging on the swings. To Sam and Cas, it looks like two guards guarding the entrance to the castle. Sam and Cas get out and approach the two angels who stand at cautious attention.

"That's far enough, Castiel."

"Excuse me?"

"I have orders. You aren't allowed upstairs."

"Says who?" Sam asks.

"Hold, please."

A rift opens on the sandbox and the angel steps through it. Moments later, another angel comes out but it's not one that Sam recognizes.

"Hello, Castiel."

"Hannah."

Sam furrows his brow when he hears a woman's name but sees a man in front of him. He stays silent and allows Cas to handle this one.

"I swore I'd never occupy another vessel but we need to have this conversation face-to-face. What do you want in Heaven?"

"Metatron."

"Why? Is this about your Grace? Are you fading?" she asks, concerned.

"I'm fine for now."

"This is about my brother and his wife," Sam says.

"Because you think Metatron might have information about the Mark of Cain?"

"No. We know he does."

"So he says, but Metatron lies."

"Hannah, we just want to talk with him," Sam sighs.

"No, you want his help, but we both know the only way Metatron helps you is if he's free. I can't let the scribe out of his cell. Not again. He's too dangerous."

"We won't--"

"Yes, you will because you're desperate."

"Listen, Hannah, Dean and Y/N are getting worse. Y/N is the Scarlet Witch now. She's becoming ruthless and deadly. She does not care who lives or dies and that includes her children. If we don't remove this Mark from her, she will become too powerful for anyone to stop. I don't think you're understanding the gravity of the situation," Sam explains.

"I understand just fine."

"After all I've done for Heaven after all I've done for you," Cas glares.

"I'm sorry," she sighs.

"You should be!"

The door to Heaven opens and three more angels come out to back Hannah up.

"Cas, let's go," Sam says and tugs on his arm.

"What? We're leaving?"

"Yeah, we can't fight off four angels."

Sam tugs Cas back over to the car and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"So, what? Are you giving up on Metatron?"

"No, we need him. Time for plan 'B'. We break him out."

"How?"

"The only way we can get into Heaven without actually getting into Heaven is to contact someone who is already here. I know someone who would do anything for Y/N and Dean. We just need to find a psychic to make that connection, and I know who can do it."

x

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[tilvcei]

► 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓 PT.3

⭢ In which: it’s finally revealed who ghostface is, you just didn’t expect it to be someone you cared for deeply. if only things would’ve changed. you and your friends start to add two and two together and finally figure out who was behind this all.

☆ | warning(s): knifes, stabbing, blood, death, language, guns, needles

☆ | note: grab your snacks and lean back as this is a long, and I mean long part. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! also, uh, we got a little funny fight between mandy and ethan which I’m pretty sure you’re all here for lol, now, READ 👿

☆ | gender: they/them (reader)

☆ | REMINDER: mandy is NOT apart of the scream franchise. he’s just an add in and a oc of mines. this is all just fiction which is not real, don’t take this seriously.

Tagging 🏷: @fanboyluvr @nellyboosworld @I5byrinth @kittyamore0 @ncllcraines @briefwinnerpersonaturtle

It was now late at night, you had stayed at the shrine with the others, mindy was currently at the hospital after getting stabbed, you just hoped she was okay.

Ethan had left, mandy felt relief when he left cause he was getting on his last nerve. maybe one day he could tolerate him, who knows?

You had took your jacket off cause it was getting hot, mandy was in the lobby checking out some old books. to say he’s been with you through about— everything? tonight is the night to confess to him.

You made your way inside the lobby to check on mandy, he was busy reading a vampire rom-com. knowing he wasn’t interested in them he was just probably bored maybe.

"Hey." you said and sat next to him, he sent you a small smile, "hey." he replied while putting his attention back to book. you looked over his shoulder, you’ll admit that the book was a bit interesting.

"Okay, but why did they have to make this a sequel? I mean, it’s obvious the book is horrible but nobody wants to say it." Mandy spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

your eyebrows furrowed, "it’s not that bad. I’ve read this book before, the reviews are good." when you replied, mandy smirked.

"The rating of this book is; 2.5 stars. wanna explain that?" Mandy questioned, you groaned.

"Well when I was reading it, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, the ratings are bull. do not let me get into the story where I begged my dad to get me another one of those books. cause-" you stopped speaking when you noticed mandy was just staring at you.

What? was there something on your face? Why does he always have to make everything obvious.

"You’re beautiful." he suddenly said, your eyes widened and a blush appeared on your cheeks, "stop and pay attention to the damn book." you said and stuttered a bit.

Mandy threw the book to the ground, a deep grunt coming from his throat. then he looked at you, "I don’t think I want to." he said.

This was the right time to confess to him. It’s been almost a couple of months now, but what you don’t know is he’s been wanting to tell you himself for awhile now.

"I love you." you said, mandy let a gasp escape from his mouth. his eyes widened.

You noticed there was no reply, did he not love you back? maybe it was too soon, you said it to fast. now he’s just gonna leave.

Before you could say anything you felt lips on yours, you realized it was mandy, you wasted no time to kiss him back, he wrapped his hand around your waist as you gave him a deeper kiss in return.

Then you both pulled away, "I love you too." he said breathlessly. you pulled yourself closer into his embrace.

But this happy moment wasn’t going to last forever. a scream was heard and you recognized it as tara’s screams.

You and mandy both glanced at each other before getting up and running towards the direction of the screams.

Once you found her, you saw tara and Sam there, Chad fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood, "NO!" Mandy screamed himself.

That was his bestfriend he just saw get murdered, you looked up and—

"There’s two of these bitches?" Mandy said, they both turned to him and swiped their knifes, the blood disappearing from it.

Sam pushed you and mandy behind her protectively, you were on the verge of tears because everything was just fine a few moments ago.

"(Y/n), listen to me, okay? you see that door over there? Sam will take you and Tara there while I fight these two off." Mandy said, "What? No! I’m not leaving you." you replied, mandy placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Look at me, I’m gonna be okay. I promise you." Mandy said and then pointed behind you, you turned and saw sam and a crying tara waiting for you.

You didn’t move an inch though, you sobbed and wiped your tears away. as much as you wanted to stay, you knew he was right.

"You’ll come back, you promise?" you asked, "always." he answered and pushed you towards tara and sam.

Then he grabbed his bat, sighing to himself, "Okay now this is real annoying. can’t you both hurry up and get this over with? I’m not gonna mock you both. but uh," mandy smirked.

"You both look real fucking stupid in those ugly ass masks. wanna know what you really are? cowards. just like the rest of them." Mandy said, you didn’t hear anymore as sam and tara dragged you inside another room.

———

As you stopped running to catch your breath, the atmosphere in the room changed. Tara placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"You okay?" She asked, all you did was nod in reply as tears fell from your eyes. you hoped mandy was okay, and that this was all a dream you’d wake up from.

You held your aching side, the wound reopening after getting hit by one of the knifes. everything was happening all at once that you yourself couldn’t even comprehend.

"(Y/n), get back." Sam said, pulling you close to her, Kirby appeared and so did detective Bailey. you turned to her, eyes wide with rage.

Kirby hands were shaking as she held the gun in her hands, "it’s okay, I’m here now. you-" you cut her off.

"Go to hell kirby, we know it’s you." you said, Kirby looked confused for a second, if it was her then who was the other person with her?

"What? No, I-" before she could finish detective Bailey appeared and shot her in the chest and stomach, your eyes widened.

You turned to detective Bailey, "Wait, where were you? I called you hours ago. and when you didn’t show up I thought they got to you too." you said, he just shook his head.

"You’re so innocent it’s ridiculous." Detective Bailey added, "Wh..what? What do you mean by that?" you questioned, you winced in pain when the blood started pouring from the reopened wound again.

Both of the ghostfaces appeared beside detective Bailey, you looked at the two, what was happening here? Tara pushed you behind her.

"Who are they?" you asked, pointing your finger at the two with a shaking hand, you heard one of them chuckle from under the mask.

"show yourself motherfucker! what did you do to Mandy?!" you yelled, your voice hoarse from screaming.

And when that person took off their mask, you stood there in disbelief. you wanted to gouge your eyes out from just seeing who it was.

Ethan.

It was him. who in the hell in their right mind would’ve thought it was the cute, dorky boy, under that mask?

Definitely not you. instead of crying or anything, you looked at him in shock and betrayal.

He smiled maniacally, his teeth being visible, his eyes were mainly on you, a crazed look crossed his features when you looked away.

"How? I thought you had went to study hall. you lied about that too, huh?" you said, that was not the question he wanted to hear come from your mouth.

Ethan didn’t reply and tilted his head in wonder, maybe you weren’t happy about this outcome but did it matter? it was a fair fight between him and Mandy. he might even brag about it.

Then that’s when it made sense. it was him at the apartment. it was him sending you those notes. all him.

How did you not know sooner? how did you not add two and two together? Mandy was right, he’s always right when it comes down to these type of things. him and mindy. they were both right. but you were too oblivious to see, you just wanted to see the greater in him. give him the benefit of the doubt.

But you were wrong. terribly wrong.

"What’s wrong (Y/n)? not who you wanted to see? holy shit, you must’ve really thought you both could be friends, too bad. he sees you more than a friend, that’s why he killed your boyfriend back there." a familiar voice said, that person took their mask off and it revealed to be none other than quinn herself.

"How? I thought you died." you said, a tremble coming from your voice, Quinn rolled her eyes, "You really are stupid. I can see why ethan likes you." she continued, Sam glared at her.

"Watch it." Sam said, you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. this didn’t make any sense. you actually believed ethan had econ and study hall. But that shit wasn’t true, none of it was.

Ethan gave you a frown, "Aww, are you okay there dove?" he asked, you didn’t answer. at the moment all you felt was betrayal and agony.

You told him everything, you trusted him. he didn’t seem like the type to hurt anyone.

"We get ready to run in 3. okay?" Sam whispered you nodded, "Oh sam, let’s not even talk about you." Quinn said, you and Tara turned to her with confusion.

"What do you mean? Sam didn’t do anything to you psychopaths. you’ve all just gone mad." You said, Ethan smirked.

"Everyone goes a little mad sometimes. didn’t your mom go mad?" he said, at the mention of her, you went quiet.

They both made there way to the three of you, Ethan had another mask in his hands, one you didn’t recognize.

"Listen. I don’t know what you believe, but I didn’t commit those murders in woodsboro, it wasn’t me!" Sam said, holding her bleeding arm.

"Yes you did, you bitch! you killed our brother!" Quinn yelled, you turned to her while clutching your injured side.

"I thought you said you’re brother died in a car accident." Tara added, breaking the intense silence.

Wait, what were they trying to say? that Sam killed their brother? who the hell is their brother anyway, none of it made sense.

You weren’t able to add two and two together when you thought Ethan wasn’t ghostface and he was all quote on quote 'innocent'.

"You’re…you’re Richies family." Sam said, Quinn clapped her hands together with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Fucking finally!" said quinn as her knife went right through your shoulder, causing you to scream.

"They’re finally getting it!" another hit came to your leg this time, you let out another scream, tara grabbed a nearby brick and hit Quinn in the face with it, knocking her teeth out and watching as she fell to the ground.

Tara helped you up and you both ran upstairs, you slipped but regained your footing.

'Everyone goes a little mad'. he was right about one thing, but you weren’t like her. you would never be like her.

you made your way upstairs successfully, your throat felt like it was being clogged with nothing but blood. there was nothing there though, Quinn must’ve got you good then.

"(Y/n), tara, I’m gonna need you both to go first. I’ll be right behind you." Sam said, you looked down at your bleeding stomach and kneeled down to the ground, clutching it.

Tara noticed, "hey, hey, what’s wrong?" she asked, her mascara sticking to her face from all the crying.

"I think- I think when we were running, Ethan hit me with something. I don’t know what it was but it’s hurting my body." you told her with a pained sob.

Tara checked you for any injures but noticed a growing bruise on your arm and neck, "Shit, I don’t know what he hit you with but you’ve got about two bruises. can you stand up or do you need help?" she asked.

"I can try to-" when you tried to move more pain erupted from your entire body, it felt like getting poked and prodded by tiny little needles every time you tired to stand.

You were only going to hold them up, "I can’t move. my arm feels like it’s falling asleep." you said, eyes getting droopy.

"No, no! (y/n) stay awake okay? Sam’s waiting for us." Tara said, you nodded and stood up anyways, regardless of it hurting.

"I see the needle helped, huh sweetheart? in about, 10 seconds you’ll be asleep real soon." Ethan spoke, looking up at you and tara with that crazed stare.

How did he even do that so quietly and quick? there’s no way he had a needle there too. but he did, somehow he was even more sneaky than before.

Your leg was now falling asleep, "what did you do? how—" before you could finish ethan cut you off.

"I used a paralysis drug to do that. I know, smart right?" he said with a laugh, all you did was close your eyes and continue to follow tara who had her hands wrapped around your waist to support you.

"I hate you!" you yelled, ethan only smiled, "And I love you too, pretty thing." he replied.

You started running, tara and sam were in front of you, detective bailey had his gun aimed at you, "Go easy on ‘em." Quinn said, referring to you who was running.

Without even noticing, your feet left the ground but before you could fall tara grabbed you by the wrist and so did sam, the both of them trying to haul you back up.

"No, no, don’t— he’s down there." You said, Quinn giggled and made her way upstairs, the blood from her mouth falling out of it, Detective Bailey went off somewhere else which you didn’t pay any mind to cause you were nearly on the brink of death.

It really wasn’t anymore use since you could feel your arm falling asleep after being injected with that drug. shit, you were running out of time.

"Let me go." you said, that was the only solution since there was nowhere else for you to go, "Come on now, don’t keep me waiting sweetheart." Ethan said, you winced at the sound of his voice.

The blood was making your hands slip out of their grasp, "We’re not gonna let you go, just—" you cut sam off.

"Just. let. go." you said, sounding more demanding this time. Tara grabbed something from out of her pocket and put it in your hands, you looked down at it and saw it was a knife.

Even though this whole situation was wrong and bodies were probably everywhere, but weird thing about it..you smiled.

This time you squeezed the knife that was in your hand, you weren’t even scared anymore.

You aren’t like her. of course you aren’t. but there was a resemblance of her inside of you. And that? that wasn’t going to change.

You smiled up at sam and tara, "Go." you told them, they both nodded and let your hand go.

You fell on top of ethan who caught you in his arms. weirdly he was strong for someone who was 'shy' all the time.

"Gotcha!" Ethan said, he wanted you all to himself, and now he got you where he wanted you. in his arms. no one else’s.

He placed a quick kiss to your lips which caught you off guard. you hurried and pulled away, "the fuck is wrong with you? Ethan I don’t know what you think, but I will never ever be with you. I will never be yours. find some other crazy psychotic bitch that’ll like you…" you said and got closer to him.

"Cause I’m not the motherfuckin' one." You said and dived the knife right inside his mouth, "You die a fucking virgin. or better: die just how your bitch of a brother did." you said and twisted the knife, ripping some of his vocal cords.

Blood fell from his mouth and onto the ground, his grip tightened on yours, you felt yourself smiling, a crazed one.

Then you removed the knife from his throat, Ethan fell to the ground with a thud. even though you didn’t want to hurt him or anyone else, what’s done had to be done. or else you’d still be running.

You looked down at your bloodied hands, then you looked over at the mirror, blood was covering your face as well.

Standing up you staggered a bit, hopefully the drug was out of your system by now.

Oh. Mandy. he didn’t make it…

You sobbed and covered your eyes, sitting on the ground and just crying to yourself.

"You stupid bitc—" before ethan could finish that sentence he was shot directly in the chest.

Wait, that wasn’t you-

"Pretty boys die first." said a familiar voice, you searched for the sound of whoever spoke and locked eyes with the person.

You turned around and saw that it was mandy. he was still alive.

"Mandy?" you said, getting to your feet you hurried and ran over to him, the both of you embracing each other tightly.

tears started falling from your eyes, you thought you’d never see him again.

"It’s okay, I’m okay." Mandy reassured, rubbing your back reassuring. Tara and Sam came downstairs and sighed in relief when mandy was in a good condition.

You and mandy pulled away, then turned to Tara and Sam, "c’mon, save some space for us." Tara said jokingly, but she and sam joined the hug.

Relief washed over you and then everything went dark.

———

It was now morning, the ambulance and police had arrived. Mandy and you sat at the edge of the ambulance, Chad was alright thankfully.

Even after all of this was over you still can’t get over how you looked while you had 'killed' ethan. Mandy finished off the job though, so there’d be no more problems for you both.

Hopefully all this would just be over and done with so you could go back to your normal lives. Mandy looked tired, like really tired.

"Where do we go after this?" you questioned, "hm, good question. I mean, we’ve been running for about a year now." Mandy replied.

"So we should stop running. if this happens again we just face it off. don’t trust anyone until we actually get to know them. so what do we do from now on?" You asked, holding Mandy’s hand.

"We trust no one." he answered, you nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling tired tried from everything.

"Love you, (Y/n)."

"I love you too, mandy."

The feeling of someone watching you didn’t leave after leaving the shrine. but you really didn’t care. all of this was over.

And there we go, the final part! or..is it? yes lol this is the last one. I just might make a scream fanfiction. so look out for that :D !!!

[kryptid-writes]

Chapter 14 - A Battle of Fates

When Sam, Dean, and Cas track down Y/N and Lucifer, there is an all-out battle that results in Y/N having to make the ultimate decision. Will she accept her fate and choose Lucifer? Or will she create her own destiny and choose Dean?

(4.4k)

The days with Lucifer fly by. Counting the cycles from day to night, I believe I've been here for about 3 weeks, but it feels like I've spent my whole life with him. Each day holds another exciting adventure that’s designed to keep me happy and busy. He’s created amusement parks, animal sanctuaries, extravagant balls, and fancy dinners, even taking me to my favorite plays and movies, all created out of thin air with the snap of his fingers. 

It’s been incredible. Truly something out of a fairytale. But everywhere we go, it’s just him and me, Lucifer and I, the rest of the world be damned. I’m not dumb, I know he’s doing this to keep me isolated and safe from anyone that may want to steal me away. 

“I have a lot of enemies.” He grabs my shoulders and looks at me in full seriousness. “Many powerful people that will use you to get to me. But I promise you this, I will never let anyone hurt you. Not now. Not ever,” he explains, confirming my suspicions. 

I have no doubt that’s true. What better way to hurt the Devil than threatening the one thing in this world he loves, his Achilles heel, and God help anyone that dares come between us. But, I suspect he has ulterior motives as well, primarily keeping me from the Winchesters and their pocket angel. I can tell that he’s on edge, always glancing at the door, obsessively checking that each sigil is still intact, just waiting for them to burst in guns blazing.

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The house is secure, located in the middle of nowhere, and sigiled to high Hell. He’s careful. No one knows where we are, not even me. The odds of them ever finding this place are slim to nothing, that is if they’re even looking for me at all. The thought crushes me, feeling as if a little part of me has curled up and died.

I wonder where they are, what they’re doing, which monster they are hunting down this week, but most of all, if they miss me. I know it’s selfish of me to think that way. I put them through Hell, especially Cas, and they’re better off far, far, away from me. 

Nevertheless, I've been practicing the demon exorcism Sam had taught me. I’ve got it down to a T, memorized every word and perfected each pronunciation. I'm ready for any demons that may cross my path. I can just picture the cheery smile on Sam’s face and the way he would squeeze my shoulder to show how proud of me he is.

I’ve even picked up my lessons in Enochian. I doubt Castiel would approve of my methods, but Lucifer has continued where he left off. He was surprised when I asked him, but happy to teach me the basic alphabet and meaning of the simple symbols. I’m still a novice, barely even able to decipher the simplest of writing, but I’m getting better by the day. I dream of seeing Castiel again one day and greeting him in Enochian. The surprised look on his face would be priceless and his kind smile would warm my heart.

Despite the wonderful time I’ve spent with Lucifer, how close we’ve grown, how much I truly adore him now, I miss my family… I miss Dean. The ghost of him lives in my mind. I keep expecting to wake up in the Bunker and see him in the kitchen drinking a beer and going to town on a tower of bacon. I miss his musky cologne and comfy flannels that are way too big for me but feel so right. I miss the way he would hold me at night and whisper that everything will be okay. My heart yearns for him, more than I thought possible. After the way things ended, the big fight that resulted in him storming out, the rage that burned in his eyes, I doubt that he would ever want to see me again. 

“It’s for the best,” I keep reminding myself, trying to quell the feelings that seem to grow stronger with each moment that passes.

Lucifer knows. Despite how hard I try to hide my pain, he’s not oblivious, and the deep connection that we share sure doesn’t help.

“Y/N?” Lucifer asks, hugging me from behind, pulling me to his chest and resting his head on my shoulder like he often does.

“Yes, Luce?” I lean back into his chest.

“Somethings bothering you,” he states matter-of-factly, “talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” I attempt to ease his suspicion, but it comes out less than convincing.

Uneasy silence hangs in the air as he thinks of what to say.

“Dean could never love you like this, you know.” He gently brushes my hair away from my neck and places a series of soft kisses from my jaw to my shoulder.

I freeze, turning rigid as a board. Hearing those words come from his mouth, it feels like the wind is knocked out of me. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about Luce,” I laugh nervously, trying to brush off his suspicion. 

“Yes, you do.”

A sinking feeling drops in my stomach, and I close my eyes, preparing myself for where this dangerous conversation may lead. As much as I adore Lucifer, he is anything but predictable.

“A little birdy told me what you and Dean have been up to.” He grits his teeth, trying to control his temper.

“A little birdy being you spying on me?” I bite back defensively.

“Besides the point.” He pulls me in even tighter, perhaps scared that I'll flee at any moment. “I know that you have feelings for that insolent human… I know that you miss him,” he says bitterly, face scrunching up in disdain. “Do you really think he misses you?” He snaps, knowing that it will cut deep.

“Luce…” I whisper, my voice trembling. It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a million times before, a thought I can’t seem to shake.

“Y/N,” he spins me around to face him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes comb over my face like he’s admiring a work of art.

“I’m going to show what it truly means to feel love.” He takes a deep breath. “I promise you that in due time, these feelings you have for that… Winchester,” he says in disgust, “will be a thing of the past. The only person you will crave is me.” He pulls me into a deep and passionate kiss. It’s not angry and possessive like I expected, but rather tender and loving.

I pull away, my lips puffy and cheeks flushed.

“He will never touch you again, do you understand?” He growls, his eyes flash a bright crimson red for a moment, before returning to their usual state. He wraps his magnificent wings around me in a protective manner, the silky feather brushing against my bare arms.

“Yes Luce.” I nod and rest my head against his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat brings me a sense of peace and safety. Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to forget the feelings I have for Dean Winchester and spend the rest of eternity with the angel fate has decided I’m meant to be with. But the other part of me wants to say, “Fuck fate,” and run into his arms, reuniting with the man I hold so dear. A storm of conflict brews ever stronger inside of me.

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“I want you to focus, I mean really focus,” Lucifer says, encouraging me.

I hold my hand out in front me, just a few feet away from the fireplace. I can feel the heat licking my palm. I screw my eyes shut and pour all my mental force into the flame that flickers weakly from the charred-up logs. My brows furrow and a bead of sweat runs down my face. I give it my all, but still, nothing comes.

“Ugh! This is useless!” I groan, dropping my hand down by my side in defeat. “Maybe I just don’t have grace abilities like you.” My mood fades from frustration into sadness, wings wilting pathetically.

“You think Rome was built in one day?” He replies sarcastically. “I’ve had millennia to perfect my grace, you just need some more practice.”

I shoot him a dirty look, but eventually nod my head in understanding.

“Now,” he clears his throat and steps closer until his chest is pressed against my back, the tingly feeling returning. “Spread your feet apart.” He kicks my shoes with his boot until they’re about a foot apart in distance, giving me better balance. “Hold your hand out. Stiffen your arm.” He lifts my arm into place, intertwining his fingers in mine and holding my palm forward.

The feeling is comforting, his large hands seem to fit perfectly with mine, the familiar electric feeling pulsing between us.

“Close your eyes,” he calmly instructs.

My eyes flutter closed, this time letting them relax instead of scrunching them up in frustration.

“Take a deep breath and imagine the fire growing clearly in your mind.” He rests his head on my shoulder, grounding me just enough to provide reassurance.

I take a deep breath in through my nose, and out through my mouth, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I picture the fire burning hot and growing several feet tall, the image in my mind so realistic that it feels like It’s really happening.

There’s a warm tingling sensation that builds in my stomach, growing ever so slightly. My hand shakes as a cold feeling wraps around my core. It’s Lucifer’s grace, a sensation I've grown quite accustomed to. My warm grace tangles with his, dancing in harmony. My grace is much smaller, more submissive to his. His grace is heavier and far more overpowering, like a cold ocean wave that makes my ears ring and blood hum.

“You feel that?” He whispers in my ear, the feeling of our graces merging together pleasantly surges through my body.

“...Yes.” I nod, holding back the groan that threatens to spill from my lips.

“Use it.” He kisses my neck, leaving a playful nip. “I know you can do it.”

His encouragement lights a fire in my stomach, and with renewed determination, I put my full focus into the task at hand.

 The fire roars to life, burning to the top of the fireplace. The flames dance up to the chimney, the smell of crackling wood and thick smoke fills the room. A feeling of power surges through my veins, the rush has me instantly hooked, surely an addiction in the making.

“I did it…” I mutter to myself in shock. “LUCE, I DID IT!” I turn around to face him and my wings flutter in excitement, a happy grin on my face.

“I knew you could, my beloved!” He picks me up with ease and spins me around like I weigh nothing to him. His wings twirl around us, magnificent feathers flowing in the breeze. “I never doubted you for a second.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and stares at me lovingly. “I’m so proud of you.” He places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Mm…” I hum in content, happy that Lucifer, of all people, is proud of me. I melt into the kiss, the rest of the world fading into oblivion. I could stay here forever.

The soft clicks of a lock being picked is covered by the fire that still roars strong behind us and the blood rushing in my ears.

The door bursts open with a loud bang, the splintered wood hanging off the hinges. Light from outside pours into the dimly lit room, illuminating the three figures, their shadows stretching across the floor.

Surprised, I whip my head around to see Dean standing his ground across the room, Sam and Castiel looming behind him, all of them armed with angel blades.

“LET HER GO YOU WINGED BASTARD!” the familiar sound of Dean’s voice booms.  Dean looks pissed, more than I ever could have imagined. This must be what monsters see in their final moments, truthfully, it scares me. His knuckles are white from gripping the blade so hard, ready to spring into action.

“Well, look who’s come to party,” Lucifer teases, holding me closer, surely leaving red marks where his fingers dig into the skin of my arms.

“Dean!” I call out. I never thought I'd see him again and my heart flutters at the sight. They came for me. They actually came for me…

Without giving it a second thought, I break free of Lucifer's grasp and make a beeline towards the Winchesters and their beloved angel, awaiting the feeling of being in their arms once again.

Before I even make it halfway across the room, Lucifer appears in front of me. I bump into his chest, stumbling back onto the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He shakes his head, giving me a disapproving look and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I'm just a child. 

“PUT!... ME!... DOWN!” I demand, pounding my fists against his back. When this has absolutely no effect on him, I run my hands into his feathers and twist, remembering the reactions it elicited from him before. He growls, but refuses to let me down, his grips only growing tighter on me.

“Put the girl down, brother,” Castiel warns, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Castiel, pleasure to see you again, come back for seconds?” He taunts him with a grin.

Dean takes a step forward, practically fuming.

“Stay!” Lucifer commands me, placing me on the ground behind him. He splays his wings out protectively in front of me, as if I'm the one at risk.

The tension in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife.

The sound of every window breaking around us, practically makes me jump out of my skin. Shards of glass fly in all directions, one piece just barely missing my face by half an inch. The sky that had been clear just moments ago, is now raining like we’re in the eye of a category five hurricane. Booming claps of thunder fill the room, followed by strikes of lightning that illuminate Lucifer’s wings in the most intimidating way. 

Snapping out of my shocked daze, I completely disregard his command and try to run forward but find that his grace is holding me in place, essentially super gluing my shoes to the floor.

For just a moment, the three boys give each other a knowing look before they all swing into action.

Dean lunges forward, swinging the blade with full force. He aims for Lucifer’s head, but he flawlessly dodges the attack, his eyes flashing red in anger. But this doesn’t deter him, Dean’s unrelenting, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.

Sam keeps himself fixed to the closest wall across the room. He drags the blade across his hand, creating a deep gash in his palm. Blood drips to the floor in abundance, creating a crimson puddle. He dips his finger in the liquid and quickly begins to draw a symbol on the wall with haste. I’ve studied enough to recognize that it’s an Enochian symbol, but I can’t decipher what it means.

Castiel stands a few feet behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concentration. He extends his arm towards Lucifer and his eyes glow a light blue. He chants quietly under his breath, his voice low and steady.

Dean continues his attack on Lucifer. With one precise swing, he slices Lucifer across the face. A cut on his cheekbone forms, blood dribbling from his cheek to his chin. Dean flashes him a cocky smile.

I struggle against his hold with all my strength, desperately trying to pry my shoes from the hardwood floor, but it's ultimately useless. I have no choice but to stand by in horror, watching the scene unfold in front of me with no way to stop it. The only thing worse than being in love with two men, is watching them kill each other right in front of your eyes.

Lucifer reaches up to his cheek, tenderly touching the wound that instantly heals shut with a white shine. He lowers his hand, looking at the blood that coats his fingers in anger.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he growls, lunging at Dean.

“I don't think so brother,” Castiel states, his eyes glowing a bright blue. With the power of his grace, he stops Lucifer in his tracks, forcing him on his knees and keeping him stuck in place.

Dean tilts his head, giving him a look that says, “I win.”

“Hurry Dean, I can’t hold him much longer,” Castiel groans, his body straining to fight off Lucifer’s powerful resistance.

Without a second of hesitation, Dean plunges the blade into Lucifer, his body visibly shaking with adrenaline.

“NO!” I scream out, my wings frilled in panic. With the attack, Lucifer's grip on me breaks and I rush to his side in an instant. I kneel next to him on the ground, lifting his limp head in my hands, his eyes closed and blood dripping from the wound where the angel blade remains buried deep in his flesh. I can feel the hot tears pricking my eyes.

Silence hangs in the air. Dean, Sam, and Cas anxiously waiting to see if they’re plan had really worked. After a few moments pass, they give each other a look of relief and collect themselves.

Their relief is short lived, as he opens his eyes and breaks out of Cas’s hold, more pissed than ever.

“You missed.” He smiles and pulls the blade out from the right side of his chest, dropping it to the ground with a clank, blood splattering the wood. Within seconds the wound is healed shut with a white glow. He stands from his knees and spreads his wings, towering far above the rest of us. “You should really aim for the heart next time.” He grins wide like a Cheshire cat.

All three boys exchange a look that practically screams, “Oh shit.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lucifer throws the three of them against the wall, pinning them in place. They struggle with all their might, but their efforts are essentially useless against his powerful grace. In a fight, archangel always wins.

“Sit, stay awhile.” he teases.

“Lucifer, no,” I beg, just wanting this nightmare to be over.

He wraps his arm around my waist but pays me no mind. He twists his hand into a fist and at once, both of the brothers’ writhe in pain, their body contorting in unnatural angles. 

Dean and Sam groan, their faces twisting up in agony. As if it couldn’t get worse, they start to spit up blood. And not just a little, but a disturbing amount of blood pouring through their lips, staining their skin and clothes a blooming red. The sound of groans and coughing makes me sick to my stomach.

“Lucifer, stop!” I yell in horror. I bunch my hands up in his shirt, desperately trying to snap him out of his fit of rage. I’ve never seen him like this before, but I start to question if those stories about him are actually as true as they say.

“No!” Castiel yells in his gravelly voice, staring at the beloved Winchester brothers squirming next to him.

“Wait your turn, brother.” Lucifer snaps his head in his direction and shifts his hand towards Castiel. A white glow slowly burns inside Cas. It starts low in his chest but builds until the white light shines through his throat and eyes with a deafening ring that continues to grow.

“You really think she loves you? I mean, you?” Lucifer mocks, staring Dean down intently.

Dean tries to speak, but his words are undecipherable through the spluttering blood and groans.

“STOP!!” I pound my fists against Lucifer’s chest so hard that it would surely leave painful bruises on any normal human. But he’s not human, no, he’s the farthest thing from it, an archangel in a savage rage.

He continues his assault, the boy’s looking as if they’re on the brink of death, perhaps they are.

“You promised…” my voice breaks.

This pulls him out of his trance. He stops his brutal attack and turns to me, looking guilty and the slightest bit pained.

“You’re right,” he admits, getting his temper under control. He takes my hand in his and brings them to rest on his cheek, evening out his breath.

The Winchesters gawk at him, as if they can’t believe what they’re seeing. They cough and choke, but the waterfall of blood stops and Castiel ceases the blinding glow.

“You’re scaring me, Luce.” I step closer, my eyes wet with tears.

“Forgive me, love.” he looks at me with loving eyes, the man I love coming back to me, even if it’s just for a moment. He pulls me into a kiss. It’s soft at first, caring and apologetic, but it soon turns deep and possessive. He wraps his wings around me and looks over to Dean, holding eye contact, needing to see his jealous reaction.

“Leave her alone,” he demands in a hoarse voice, his face burning with anger.

I break the kiss with a light shove and look at him, my cheeks burning in shame. I can practically hear his heart breaking into a thousand shards.

“Or what?” Lucifer snaps, “What did you think was going to happen, hm? You’d just storm in here, kill me, and she’d come running back to you like some lovesick puppy?”

Dean musters up the strength to shoot him a look that could kill, but I could see Lucifer’s words were gutting him inside.

“Newsflash kid, Y/N’s my soulmate. We’re meant to be together, it’s our destiny,” he says, pulling me so close that my wings are pressed flat against his chest, wrapping an arm around me to secure my body in place.

Dean’s face becomes somber as he processes the information. I can see the internal debate going on inside of his head, one that I’ve had many times before. 

“Is that true, Y/N?” Sam asks hesitantly.

Cas gives Sam a knowing look.

“Yeah, tell them Y/N.” Lucifer takes my chin between his fingers and forces me to look them in the eyes, unable to escape their awaiting glares, “Is it true?” He mocks.

“...Yes,” I admit, barely a whisper.

Dean’s eyes go wide, tears threatening to spill at any moment. His green irises flick back and forth, desperately scanning my face for any sign that I might be lying, that this is all some part of a masterplan to deceive Lucifer, but finds none.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracks and I close my eyes in shame, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can feel Lucifer smirking behind me, clearly amused with this turn of events.

The room is quiet for a moment before something in Dean changes. His eyes harden and he lifts his head with a wave of confidence. “Yeah? Well, I say screw destiny. You can shove it up your feathery ass!” He spits in defiance.

“Give it up Dean.” Lucifer rolls his eyes dramatically, “She’s my mate, you can't have her!” He growls, his wings spreading to their full wingspan.

“Lucifer… that’s enough!” I warn, grabbing him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention, but he keeps his eyes glued on Dean.

“No, she’s not! She’s one of us now, she’s a Winchester!” He snaps back.

Hearing those words makes my heart flutter but it sends Lucifer over the edge. His eyes glow a red so bright that I’m sure the color will be burned in the back of my retina for days to come. He balls his hand into a fist and twists it sharply. 

Dean screams as the unmistakable sound of his rib bones crunching and breaking under the angel's grace bounces off the walls, followed by a series of pained whimpers, drowned out by Sam and Cas’s protests. 

“I SAID, ENOUGH!” my voice echoes around the room. With a sudden surge of grace, Lucifer is shoved halfway across the room. Dean, Sam, and Cas are released from his hold, falling to the floor. The storm stops and all is quiet for just a moment.

Dean clutches at his ribs and attempts to stand, but collapses onto the ground in immense pain. Sam and Cas rush to his side and help him to his feet, throwing his arms around each of their shoulders to help him stand. The three of them look at me in shock, Dean seemingly more amazed than the others.

Lucifer, on the other hand, is beaming, clearly impressed with my sudden surge in power. “Look at y-” Lucifer starts with a cocky smile.

“Shut up!” I interrupt him, shooting him a warning look.

“I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m some prize to be won!” I yell, angrily looking between the two of them, disgusted with the little show they put on tonight. I try to catch my breath as I collect my thoughts.

“I’m my own person, and I decide my destiny! Not you,” I turn to look at Luce, images of our amazing dates together play like a movie in my mind, how he makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, the only thing that matters to him, and the powerful connection pulling us together like magnets. I can just imagine spending eternity with him, exploring where my powers could take me, seeing how deep our connection goes, and what the next millennia together has in store for us.

“Not you,” I look at Dean. Memories of my nights with him flood back, the way he was always there when I needed him, the way he makes my heart flutter every time I look at him, the way I crave him in every sense of the word. It’s no use denying the feelings I have for Dean, and what I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my days with him, watching him grow old and showing him what it really means to be loved.

“And definitely not fate.” I raise my head high and frill my wings out to their full extent, refusing to hold myself back any longer.

“It’s my choice, and I choose…”

Series Masterlist

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Tags: @roseblue373 @iprobablyshipit91

[frodo-cinnamonroll]

Hi! I know this isn't one of your prompts, but would you mind doing a Frodo x human reader fic in which she's worried that she'll succumb to the Ring like Boromir did and Frodo will despise her for it, and Sam comforts her? Whether or not Frodo hears this is up to you (plus, I feel like how the ring would affect the reader isn't really talked about enough)

Torn in Two

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: none, a little angsty

A/N: This is my first ever request and I had a blast writing it! Thank you! ♥

_________________________________________

“You will destroy us all! Curse you! Curse you!”

The shout came not far away. That alone was worrying, but even more, it was a voice you knew and that was worse. Much worse.

You dashed through the forest, a panic rising in your chest. Your sword was drawn. You feared what lay ahead. You knew not what you might face. Even so, you ran. At last, you caught sight of a figure kneeling on the hill. He was mumbling to himself and seemed to be greatly distraught. You stopped and sheathed your sword.

“Boromir?” You stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Boromir? Brother, what is the matter? Where is Frodo?”

Boromir said nothing. He didn’t look up.

“Where is Frodo?”

You had almost never seen Boromir so troubled. Your brother was strong and fearless. You knew something terrible must have happened.

“He’s gone,” Boromir said, trembling, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s gone.”

“Where to? What happened?” You looked into your brother’s eyes but he did not keep your gaze. Guilt and pain you saw.

“I . . .” he started. “I do not know. He disappeared.”

Your eyes widened. “He used the—it?!”

Boromir nodded and clasped your hands, pressing them to his forehead. “Forgive me! Forgive me!”

“For what? What has happened? You must ell me!”

“I tried to… no!” Boromir shook. “I tried to take it from him! I do not know why. A trance came over me, stronger than any will! I could not resist it! It was as if nothing in the world was of value except that thing. Frodo ran away. He was not hurt. But I tried to take it from him, Y/N!” And with that he wept. You were stunned. Even as you pondered these words Boromir’s face changed and he managed a smirk. “But why not? Why shouldn’t I have taken it? After all, we are doomed if the Ring is in the hands of that…rat.”

“Boromir!”

“What?” Boromir’s face was dark and fell to look upon as he stood over you. “Would you too take us all to our death? Would you march the One Ring straight to Sauron and have us all destroyed? The quest is hopeless! Yet you would counsel that we give the Ring back to the Evil One! No! I will find it! I will have it! I must have it! It is mine!”

“Boromir, no!” You grabbed at his cloak as he started away.

Boromir drew his sword, his face filled with rage and darkened passion. He lifted it high above you, gleaming in a red fire that reflected his face. Then it came down. You screamed.

_________________________________________________

“Boromir!” You sat up with a jolt, your hand over your side where the sword had pierced you . . . or where you thought it had. 

The night was dark around you and the world was mostly silent except for the invisible winds whistling quietly over the rocks and lonely clumps of grasses nearby. There was no wound and no Boromir. You sighed, laying your head in your hands. It was all a dream, well, partially. You, Y/N, a daughter of Gondor, Boromir and Faramir’s sister, was one of the Fellowship of the Ring. You had insisted on coming with your brother. Though many laughed at your attempts to fight for greater things because you were a woman and “not a warrior,” you kept on. Mainly that was because you were tired of the dreary, hopeless waiting in Gondor that grew as the days went on, but also you wanted to keep your brother in check. He was dear to you, yet you knew he could be too proud sometimes, and you were one of the only ones who could remind him and keep him steady. And you were one of the only ones he would tell his mind openly to. Yet most of those in Gondor still doubted you.

“One does not need to be a master of the sword to change the world,” you had told them, “one only needs wisdom, courage, and endurance.” Even then, you were very skilled in the ways of swordsmanship, but you did not like to show it unless the need arose. Your brothers had trained you well. Strong and mighty though they were, they still treated you with love and respect and you loved them for it.

But now you were far away from your brothers, though it had pained you to leave them. Faramir had stayed behind in Gondor under his father’s wishes. And Boromir . . . you did not know where he was. Aragorn had sent you to find Boromir since you were his sister and that you did, but Frodo had been nowhere to be found. After Boromir told you what had happened, he was too distraught to go anywhere for a while. You had gone in search of Frodo, and you had found him just before he had left. He couldn’t convince you to stay, and you, Sam, and Frodo had left the company. Now it was your second night since the Fellowship was broken.

You sat back against the cool ledge of rock under which the three of you had taken refuge for the night. Rest seemed far away, for you at least. You looked over at the two hobbits who were sleeping nearby. Sam was unmoved, snoring lightly. His sword was still on his side in case of an emergency and he needed to protect his master. Frodo slept less easily it seemed. His face looked worried, as if he were in a troubling dream. That you did not doubt. Often on your journey since Gandalf had fallen, Frodo had been disturbed by unhappy dreams. It hurt your heart but there was nothing that could be done about it. Even now he mumbled Gandalf’s name, tossing and turning slightly. You watched them, your heart ever filling with love for the small creatures. You could easily see, as you had when you first saw them, how Gandalf so loved hobbits. They were small yet had such courage as many men lacked. In fact, you believed what they lacked in size, hobbits made up for in character. You were thankful to be a part of the journey with them and the others of the Fellowship and to have gotten this far.

As you looked, Frodo turned on his back and you could barely see the cold silver of the chain that he wore, the chain that held the fate of Middle-earth. You flinched when you saw it. So easy it would be to take it and rid the hobbits of the torment and horror that might lay ahead. A valiant deed it would be. Yet, as you thought about these things, something seemed wrong about it all. If you were to take it, trust would be broken. How long could you resist the ever-growing pull of the Ring? How long until you, like Boromir, were driven mad with the desire of it and harmed the very ones you claimed you were helping? Maybe it would have been better if it had just been Sam and Frodo left to take the Ring. Maybe you weren’t meant to be here at all. Maybe . . .

“Worrying about what-ifs is not going to change anything,” you whispered to yourself. “You mustn’t despair now. They need you. It would be foolish to leave them.”

But is it just as foolish to stay? How long can you hold out? How long?

You shook your head. It was as if another voice was whispering into your ear, low and menacing yet almost sweet to hear.

Spare them the pain. Spare them. Take the Ring and spare them of what lies ahead. You know it is the only way. Maybe Boromir was right. Is there any hope with things going the way they are now? Spare them.

“No!” you said to the darkness, as if someone stood before you. “I will not. Indeed I would spare them if I could but it is not my choice to make.”

Think of Gondor. Its power is failing. Think of the deeds you could do to save your people. What honor you would receive! 

“I heard what Gandalf said. Only the Dark Lord can use its power and I cannot. The Ring-bearer was chosen and it was not me for a reason. Leave me, you foul voice. Leave me in peace.”

Your head was silent once again. You felt weary in your spirit yet as if you had won a victory, though it seemed small whatever it was. You did not doubt that the temptation would come again. How long could you hold out?

You sighed and laid back down, watching the hobbits rhythmic breaths. Frodo moaned in his sleep, clutching his elven cloak. Sam was motionless and seemed peaceful. Slowly, sleep took over you and you drifted away into dreamless darkness.

________________________________________________

“Miss Y/N,” it was Sam’s voice that pulled you into the morning. “Miss, the sun’s up. I think we best get going as soon as we can.”

You opened your eyes and sat up. The day was dull and soundless but for the Great River roaring not far away. Sam had made a small fire and three small fish were cooking in one of Sam’s pans. Frodo was silent, watching the fire. He seemed deep in thought.

“How did you manage to catch fish?” you asked.

“I happened to find a net in my pack,” Sam said. “I don’t know what from but it’s a blessing for sure. It’s a shame I won’t be able to use it much, considering where we’re going and all, but I thought we should have a good meal before all we have is lembas. It’s not too risky to make a fire, is it?”

“If it smokes,” you looked up at the dreary sky, “but it isn’t. It might be the last fire we will get in a long while, so enjoy it. We should reach those barren hills today.”

Sam nodded and served the fish as best he could manage with the meager spices he had. The three of you ate as slow as time allowed, but you needed to be off soon. When you finished, you packed up what belongings you had and continued your journey once more. You led the way with Frodo behind you and Sam bringing up the rear, not that you knew much about these lands, for it was far away from Minas Tirith and was largely unfamiliar. 

The vast terrain before you between the Great River and the Dead Marshes was lifeless and unfriendly. There seemed to be nothing but the brown-gray rock in many forms of jagged hills. You cautiously picked your way between the sheltered clefts, sheer drops, and rugged boulders. For now the Ring was forgotten to you and your mind was only focused on picking the right path, and the safest one at that. Every now and then, you would reach a dead end, some high wall that none could scale or some drop that led to an end that you could not see. However, you did not give up hope and the three of you worked your way backwards and came upon another route that seemed to have appeared only then which had hidden itself from you before. Thus, slowly, you worked towards the Land of Shadow. 

But even as the day went on a fog began to grow in the deep crevices of the hills and worked its way slowly upward until it covered everything. You could not see much farther in front of you and it was only thickening. It was as if someone was building up the mist to stop you from going forward, and maybe someone was. It didn’t dampen your spirits entirely, only making the way harder and more troublesome.

Even so, the three of you spoke softly of your homelands far away. You were very interested in life in the Shire and Sam and Frodo told you of what things were like there. They told of the land, their heritage, and happenings of their childhood and whatever they could recall had happened before they left. They spoke lovingly of their home and as you looked at their faces you could see their longing to return to its comforts. Frodo especially seemed saddened and when he spoke of his home, you could see in his eyes that he feared he would never return.

Then you all fell silent for a while, walking in the ever-thickening fog. The end of the day was coming near and the light was beginning to fail. For some reason or another, your heart felt heavier as the day faded. A light rain began.

“We should find somewhere to rest for the night,” you said, peering around you in search of some form of shelter. “I don’t think we shall be able to see much further.”

“I don’t think I can walk much further either,” Frodo said. He swayed a little where he stood. Sam put a hand on his arm to steady him.

“Come, this way.” 

You led them to a shallow cave-like opening in the rock and made yourselves at home to the best of your ability. After eating a little lembas, you settled into silence and laid down. Frodo was asleep almost instantly and Sam followed soon after, but you couldn’t shake a rising feeling of dread that seemed distant and near at the same time. An hour or two passed, and you looked out into the fog, waiting for something or someone dreadful to appear. Then suddenly you heard what sounded like the beating of wings coming nearer. The dread was so strong you couldn’t think at first. Forcing yourself to move, you shook Sam and Frodo awake.

“Frodo, Sam, wake up,” you whispered as quietly as you could manage. Your hands were shaking.

The hobbits started awake and the three of you crouched against the rock as far back as it would allow.

“They’ve come,” Frodo whispered.

“It’s only one,” you managed to say.

“But that’s more than we can handle,” Sam said, shaking.

Then out from the darkness there came a cry so piercing and  full of hatred and evil power that the three of you covered your ears and lay on the ground in terror. Now you could hear the Nazgûl on whatever evil creature it rode not far above. It shrieked again and Frodo cried out, clutching where his old wound had been. He slowly reached for the Ring on its chain but Sam stopped him. You saw It now, right in front of you and not far from your grasp. Then, in some dream, your hand reached for the Ring under some will that was not your own. You felt the chain cold and heavy in your fingers against the warmth of Frodo’s body. Sam was staring at you with wide eyes but made no move.

Take it. Take it. The voice from the night before was back, luring you. Take it and have it for yourself. Put it on and you can run, invisible and mighty. You can escape the death that awaits. You can escape. Take it now.

Your fingers were inches away from the Ring. All you had to do was take it. But the image of Boromir in your dream flashed through your mind and another of him lying in one of the boats of Lothlorien still and unmoving, floating away to be swallowed up by the sea and stars. Then in an instant something awoke inside you and you reeled back and the voice and terror and evil will passed. The Nazgûl was gone.

You sat back against the wall, breathing heavily and staring out into the distance. Frodo sat up now and looked at you. You covered your mouth with your hand as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Forgive me,” you whispered. “Forgive me.”

 You stood and, without another word, walked out into the fog. You didn’t go very far, so as to not get lost, but you went as far as you dared. You sat down on a small boulder, heedless of the cold, and let tears fall down your face. You wrapped your elven cloak around you and cried softly to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. What was the point of all this? The struggle? The pain? Why were you even here in this desolate land? Then your mind went back to the day you had left Gondor with Boromir.

“I’m still not sure about all this,” Boromir said, saddling his horse.

“There are many things we do not yet know, brother,” you answered. “I think we will learn much more in the days to come. Who knows? Maybe one day tales will be sung about us, whatever we are about to do.”

Boromir shook his head with a smile. “Ah, sister. Still dreaming of valor and tales? You may have your chance to be in one yet. But whether or not we are, we must do what is right, honor or no.”

“So you have learned a thing or two from me.”

“Indeed. I have a feeling that more than the lives of our people depend on this.”

“Then let us not forget. Let us not fail. Let us fight to the end.”

You looked back up into the fog, resting your chin on your knees. You breathed the night air deeply. Though it wasn’t fresh or pleasant, you felt a little lighter somehow.

“Miss?”

You turned around wiping the tears from your eyes. The hazy figure of a hobbit stood behind you. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Sam said. “It’s getting quite cold I think. Mr. Frodo’s already out. We should probably get the most sleep we can too.”

“I don’t know that I can,” you said, not looking at him.

Sam sighed and sat down next to you. “I . . . I know you think you . . . well, I know you feel bad for it.”

“For what?”

“What happened . . . with the Ring . . . when the Black Rider came by.”

You looked at Sam and then buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t stop the tears and you didn’t try.

“I’m so sorry!” you cried. “I don’t know what came over me. It was so . . . strong, whatever it was. My mind filled with thoughts of the Ring and some foreign desire made me want it! I do not want it, Sam! I do not! Yet ever since we left it’s tempted me. I understand now why Frodo told me not to come. He saw in me what I could not see in myself. I thought I could resist it, more so than Boromir, but I was wrong. I fear I may succumb to it and be taken by it and who knows what I will do then!” You could say no more and your words were buried in sobs.

You felt Sam’s hand on your arm. “Miss Y/N,” he said, “with all due respect, you seem to have missed something. I’ve noticed how it’s tempted you and made you torn in two. Mr. Frodo has too. But, Miss, you resisted it. When that Black Rider came by, you were drawn to it, sure, but you didn’t let it get a hold of you. You said no. When you did that—now don’t take me for a loon—but when you did that, I saw a light around you. It was as if you had finally overcome it’s call to you and you won, if you understand me. You don’t need to worry about it any more. And even if it does still draw you a little, you’ve got something stronger than it. I don’t know what, but it’s there. Mr. Boromir, he had strength, but he didn’t have all of what you do. It would be more than a shame if you left. I think we’ll be needing you down the road, so that’s why you’d better not leave.”

You looked at Sam in shock and admiration. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do. I may be a bit of a ninnyhammer sometimes but I’m no liar.”

“Oh, Sam!” you hugged the hobbit tightly. “Thank you! Thank you. Bless you, dear hobbit! Gandalf was right, there is more to halflings than meets the eye. Come, let us rest now.”

“Just a minute,” Sam said. “I just want to say, too, that Mr. Frodo, he doesn’t hate you, Miss. He told me just now that when you came back he was going to say something similar to what I just said now, but my poor master can hardly keep his eyes open whenever we stop for the night. He’s fond of you and I am too. Mr. Frodo and I would trust you with our lives, and everything else besides.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” you said softly. “I have never really had friends so close as I have you and Frodo. Thank you for that.”

“Of course, Miss, it’s a pleasure.”

The two of you went back up to the cave where Frodo was at rest. You felt at peace now, at least enough to get through the night. You laid down and closed your eyes, humming a song that you had learned many years before. Such a song had never been heard in those parts in many many years, if ever at all. And over the dreary hills it floated, a sign of hope sailing the wind.

____________________________________

The next day came quietly, and your small group got an early start when the light was still new. The fog still lay thick around the land, but it was thinner than the day before. The misty whisps curled around the shapeless rock forms like ghostly white snakes. Although the day was just about as dreary as the last, you felt more hopeful. You had hardly spoken to Frodo and Sam at all, as there was nothing much to say. You had wanted to say something to Frodo but you couldn’t find the words. You kept glancing at him and opening your mouth to speak but no words would follow.

Just before you thought you couldn’t bear it any longer, the three of you stopped to rest. You sat on a small rock with withering moss clinging to it and looked out into the dissipating fog. You could barely see a glimpse of the Dead Marshes far away. You could smell them too. Nearer by, you could hear what sounded like a trickle of water.

“If my ears aren’t mistaken,” Sam said, breaking the silence, “I think there’s a stream nearby.”

“I believe you are correct, Sam,” you said, glancing around.

“I’ll refill our bottles,” Sam said, grabbing the three flasks you had. Not waiting, he started off with a quick look in Frodo’s direction.

An awkward silence ensued.

“Frodo,” you said at last, forcing the words out.

“Yes?”

“Please . . . please forgive me for what happened last night with the Ring. Sam already spoke with me about it, but I need to tell you myself that I am sorry, terribly sorry, for what happened. I do not think it will happen again but . . .” Suddenly, everything Sam had said the night before was forgotten to you and the tears ran down your face again. “Oh that it should be I that is your worst enemy, and whom you have most cause to fear! It would be better if I stayed here while the two of you went ahead! It would be better if I rotted alone in this desolate place than brought any harm or trouble to you!”

Frodo’s face was filled with sadness when you said this. He squeezed your hand, looking into your eyes with empathy. “No,” he said. “That is . . . nonsense, Y/N. It is a shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you, and I shall not hear it from you. May Eru judge me by my deserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything shall ever come between us!”

“But it is not your act, Frodo,” you said, looking away. “It is mine. It is all my doing.”

“No. No it is not. It is not your fault that we are here. It is not your fault that the Ring came to me. It is not Bilbo’s fault that it came to him. I do not believe it is Gollum’s fault that it came to him either. When we were in the mines of Moria, Gandalf told me this: he said it is not for us to decide the times we see or what we face, but all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. You are not succumbing to the Ring, Y/N. If any of us is, it is me. Last night you resisted and overcame the desire for it. I wish I had the strength to do the same. You have more to you than meets the eye, a hidden strength, I think. I trust you, Y/N, and I believe I always shall. Please don’t forget it.”

You said nothing. You couldn’t. You wrapped Frodo in a hug and cried. Frodo said nothing else and patiently returned the gesture, holding back tears himself.

“So there is hope for this journey after all,” you whispered. “We just might not see it yet.”

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 21 - Shatter

Words: 2,132

Summary: What if it had never been Danny's choice to lose his powers in Phantom Planet? (PP AU)

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Tucker glanced anxiously at Sam. “Are you gonna knock?”

She scoffed, but it was half-hearted at best. “It’s Danny, when have we ever knocked to come in?”

“Then, why aren’t you going in?” he retorted, raising an eyebrow. He could call her bluff far too easily like this, when she donned her bravado to hide her own anxiety.

Still, he couldn’t blame her. These waters were treacherous, and they were some that the three of them had never thought they would cross. He knew perfectly well that she didn’t know how to approach the situation (a rarity for someone as confident as Sam Manson), but it was because he felt the exact same way. 

After knowing Danny for more than a decade, he figured he was prepared to help his best friend through anything. Really, the three of them knew each other backwards and forwards; usually so well to the point where they would absolutely blow everyone out of the water during those “dating game” ice-breaker things they would do at camps and such. So it wasn’t normal for him - for either of them - to feel so far out of their depth that they didn’t know what to do or say.

As far as he could remember, he and Sam had only found themselves in this same situation once - back during the first couple of weeks after Danny had the accident that made him half-ghost. After all, what are you supposed to say to comfort your friend when they die? It’s not like either of them could relate.

It’s not like either of us can relate now, he thought quietly. He had no idea how to put himself in Danny’s shoes, especially after going through this most recent situation.

He exhaled shakily and, without thinking, grabbed Sam’s hand. Normally, she’d recoil from the physical contact, but she gripped his hand back like it was her lifeline. Their eyes met, and the unspoken message was there. We do it together.

They both gave a curt nod, and then Sam carefully edged Danny’s door open.

“Danny?” she called quietly into the dark room. “You in here?”

“Jazz said you’d be here, and I don’t think she’d lie to us,” Tucker joked nervously. He couldn’t help it; he was the kind of guy that needed any humor he could get when dealing with a heavy situation. 

Danny was, in fact, in his room, sitting at his desk with the curtains drawn and the lights off. He had his star-studded comforter draped over his head and wrapped tightly around his shoulders. A couple of half-eaten Chinese takeout containers and empty Mountain Dew bottles cluttered his desk, though his laptop still sat open in front of him with some Nat Geo documentary on Saturn playing quietly. 

Tucker did his best to avoid cringing as he remembered the encounter with Vlad a week or two ago that Danny had told them about - some sort of fight over the Infi-Map on the outer rings of Saturn. Naturally, he and Sam hadn’t been able to go, what with their human needs like warmth and oxygen. He wondered if it was really the best idea for him to be wallowing in things that would remind him of Vlad, considering what had happened.

When Danny heard them enter, he turned. Dark, heavy bags weighed under his eyes, and his skin looked chalkier than normal. Still, he managed to muster a frail smile for his friends. “Hey guys,” he said hoarsely. 

“Hey Danny,” Sam replied. “We just - well, we haven’t heard from you since… you know…” 

“We just wanted to check in on you,” Tucker picked up when Sam trailed off.

Danny’s eyes pierced through them like knives, but the look wasn’t one of anger or accusation. Slowly, he nodded and flicked his eyes to the side. “Jazz told you what happened then…” he said, his voice quiet.

“And we’re glad she did,” Sam said as she sat on the edge of Danny’s bed. Tucker took a seat beside her. “We’re worried about you. We had no idea Vlad had figured out how to do something like that.”

“Me neither,” Danny muttered. He pulled his knees up to his chest, making him look even smaller. “I just… it’s…”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. As Tucker kept careful eyes on both Sam and Danny, he chewed his lip. Frankly, he’d expected more pushback from Danny. He loved his best friend to death, but he knew he could be a bit of a stubborn jerk sometimes. And sometimes, Stubborn Jerk Danny liked to try and put up walls of defense between himself and the people worried about him.

This was an entirely different Danny, though. This Danny was devoid of hope and life, as though someone had come in and sucked all his vitality away.

(It wasn’t too far off from what had really happened, all things considered.)

Danny sighed and buried his chin into his knees. “I don’t have some sort of plan to fix it, if that’s what you wanted to hear,” he said. “It’s just… It’s over guys.”

“Don’t say that!” Sam insisted. “There’s no way… I mean, he can’t have actually done it, can he?”

Danny only held one of his hands in front of his face and stared at it intently. Tucker got the feeling something was supposed to be happening - invisibility, intangibility, anything - but the hand stubbornly refused to change. 

As the seconds ticked by, Danny’s face grew stormier until he finally shouted in exasperation and let his hand fall. “See? It’s like I said. I’ve been trying to get it to do something, anything for days now and nothing. It’s all gone. I can’t even feel -” he stopped abruptly and swallowed thickly, holding a fist over his sternum. Tucker couldn’t hide the wince this time; he knew what Danny was referring to, and if he wasn’t feeling it at all…

“There has to be something left,” Sam said. Desperation was starting to creep into her voice, and the blankets on Danny’s bed began to bunch up under her grip. “Even when you split yourself, it was never a clean split! There was always something left!”

Danny’s eyes were fixed on a pair of jeans lying haphazardly on the floor, but they were distant. He shook his head absently. “We tried, me and Jazz,” he whispered. “We even looked at a bit of my blood, and it’s… normal. No ectoplasm or anything.”

At this point, Sam looked like she was about to cry, which shook Tucker almost as much as Danny’s news. “Dude, I… I’m so sorry,” he said, not sure what else to say. He’d been at a similar loss for words more than a year ago, when part of Danny had died in that portal.

What could he say now that Danny had un-died?

“And because the portal was shut down, he was able to destroy it,” Danny was saying. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to Frostbite, or Clockwork, or someone, I don’t care if it’s the freaking Box Ghost. I need…”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Sam growled. “He’s a sick, twisted little -”

“Whatever you’re gonna say,” Danny interrupted, “Jazz has probably already said it for you. The only reason she didn’t try to tear Vlad apart when he did it is because she didn’t know if he’d just actually killed me or not.”

“Then I’ll tell everyone! What’s he gonna do, spill your secret? I could call down to Station 7 right now and -”

“Tell them what? What proof do we have?” Tucker surprised himself with his interruption. Judging by Sam and Danny’s wide eyes, they’d been caught off guard too. “He can just deny it, and he still has other ways to get back at Danny.”

“I don’t care! He’ll have to get through me first!” Sam shouted. “I can’t believe you’re saying we should just lie down and take this!”

Tucker frowned. “Do not start with that. I didn’t say anything like that; you’re putting words in my mouth again! I’m just… trying to be realistic.”

“Okay, fine, but ‘realistic’ doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can do!” Sam jumped to her feet and pointed an accusatory finger at Tucker. “I get that you’re trying to temper expectations or whatever, but you can’t just shut things down like that!”

“Like what? I said one thing! And you just started jumping down my throat!”

“Well maybe if you’d let me finish my sentence, you -”

“Enough!” Danny thundered, startling his two arguing friends into silence. 

Well, it was part of the reason they fell so immediately quiet.

In his anger and desperation to stop them arguing, Danny had sprung out of his seat when he shouted, and in the process, the comforter which had been so tightly wrapped around his head and shoulders fell in a heap at his feet. Without the blanket, Tucker and Sam could see where his head had originally been covered, and what they saw stunned them just as much as his outburst.

A pure, jagged bolt of white streaked through his black hair. It started somewhere towards the back of his skull, where the hair began to sweep forward instead of down, emerging like a shooting star through a night sky. It followed the contour of his hair and into his bangs, falling just to the side of his left eye.

Sam was the first to react. She gingerly reached forward and laid a gentle touch to the white streak. Danny flinched when he realized what the two of them had seen, but he still allowed her to get close.

“Oh Danny…” she whispered, her voice thick and devoid of all the heat it’d held just moments before.

“Oh my God,” Tucker muttered. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him. For some reason, Danny’s loss, his trauma hadn’t truly hit him until he saw the awful reminder of what had once been. Now, seeing the aftermath of Vlad’s cruelty, the impacts nearly overwhelmed him.

Danny Phantom was gone. Danny Fenton was left, broken beyond recognition.

Danny wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes. “I can’t… I-I’m just…”

In one motion, Sam swept him into a tight hug. Tucker was an instant behind her. Danny started, but then sniffed and leaned into their embrace. Seconds later, he broke down entirely and sobbed into Sam’s shoulder. The sound broke Tucker’s heart clean in half.

He didn’t know how long they stood like that, him and Sam holding onto Danny’s weeping form like they’d lose him if they let go. At some point, he didn’t know when, they’d moved to their knees, and Tucker draped the comforter around the three of them. Eventually, as Danny’s cries tapered off, they found themselves in some sort of three-person pile. Danny had his head in Sam’s lap, and she combed her fingers through his hair gently. Tucker pressed himself against Danny’s back and rested his cheek against Sam’s shoulder.

As they laid there, Tucker couldn’t tear his eyes away from that cursed streak. The way it rippled and parted around Sam’s fingers only reinforced the fact that this wasn’t some nightmare they would just wake up from. Vlad really had found a way to forcibly revert Danny’s half-ghost status. And now…

Danny’s cries died into hiccups and sniffles. A heavy silence fell around the three of them, only broken when Sam placed a hand against his cheek and whispered, “Hey.” Watery blue eyes looked up and backwards to meet her own; she made eye contact with Tucker too before speaking again.

“We’re right here, Danny. We’re not going anywhere.” Her voice was tender yet firm with the sincerity of her words. Tucker reinforced them by taking Danny’s hand and squeezing it. “We’re gonna get through this, Phantom or not. We don’t care what it takes or how long.”

Tucker could tell by the look in Danny’s eyes that he wanted to smile back and thank them, but he couldn’t muster enough to do so. Instead, he closed his eyes and relaxed further into their loving touch. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” he whispered.

The moment was interrupted by the harsh jangle of Tucker’s PDA ringtone. Cursing under his breath, he pulled it out of his pocket. “I forgot I still have news alerts turned on,” he said as he swiped to open the notification. Both Danny and Sam craned their necks to see as Tiffany Snow’s face loaded onto the screen.

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you breaking news from NASA and the Department of Defense. A major asteroid, originating from Saturn’s orbit, has been forecasted to make direct impact with Earth…”