#i am seriously thinking about getting the gabriel body pillow

[anachronisticbones]

I think I have a few very specific types.

They're all either:

Faceless

Insane

Pathetic

or All of the above

[morganaspendragonss]

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

*

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

*

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

*

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

[samwinchestersgf]

guardian angel

requested by: anonymous

request: Could you write something with Gabriel being the guardian angel of Sam and Dean's little sister?

summary: sam and dean’s younger sister is a klutz. after cracking under the pressure of living up to her brothers’ reputation, gabriel, her guardian archangel, makes her feel better.

warnings: mild language. angst. gabriel being a turd bucket, and then being a sweetheart. fluff.

i sit around the big map table in the bunker with sam and dean. with my arms crossed, i lean back in my chair. damn, they’re insufferable at times, but, this time is worse than ever before.

“what do you mean i can’t come on the hunt with you?” i ask, outraged.

“i mean exactly what i said, y/n.” dean’s voice raises, daring me to top it.

i match his volume. “why can’t i come?!”

“because i said so, okay?” he gets up to his feet. he’s louder than me, and bigger than me. he always has been.

“this is some misogynistic bullshit.” i bring my tone up the slightest.

this really pisses him off. “i am not a misogynist for wanting to keep my little sister safe. sorry, that’s not how it works.”

“i’d be safe on the hunt!” i look over at sam for back up. he’s always been the more reasonable one.

he shrugs his shoulders and mouths the word, ‘sorry.’

“when have i ever not been safe on a hunt?!” i retry my approach.

“just about every damn time!” his voice booms through the bunker, ricocheting off the walls.

“i’ve never gotten hurt!” i look back over to sam, my eyes begging him to stand up for me.

“maybe you’ve never gotten that hurt... but you are super clumsy.” his voice is low and quiet compared to mine and dean’s.

“see, i’ve never gotten that hurt, just like, scratches and stuff.” i give him a smug look.

“you fall around so much, there’s a chance that this time could be the time that you get seriously hurt.” sam’s sympathetic with me, trying to get me to calm down.

sam has always been the level-headed sibling. he’s always the mediator. even when we were younger, the only person he’d argue with was dad, and he didn’t get the balls to do that until he was older. still, he’s 6 years older than me and has made it his personal duty to protect me. he enjoys playing the role that dean always got to play when we were little.

dean and i, though, are always at each other’s throats. it not that we don’t get along, because we do, but we both inherited our father’s stubbornness, whereas sam was blessed with mary’s mediating abilities. dean’s a whole decade older than me, so he thinks he’s all tough.

“i can take care of myself,” i reroute the conversation. i find myself saying that line a lot.

“when dad died, he made it my responsibility to take care of you and i’m not gonna let you go out and get hurt.” dean spits.

when dean brings up dad, out of respect, he knows that i’ll do what he says. that’s why he doesn’t bring him up very often. i lean backwards in my chair quickly, but too harshly. the chair goes flying down to the ground.

i close my eyes and prepare for impact, but it never comes. i feel myself being pushed up and back to the chair’s neutral position. my brothers look confused, and so do i.

“did you...?” my voice trails off, looking at dean.

“my reflexes are quick, but not that quick.” he shakes his head. “but, see? you’re clumsy.”

“dean, can i at least pr-“

“you’re not coming. i’m serious.” he says sternly.

“sam?” i turn to him, pleading with my eyes.

“sorry, y/n.”

i huff and push my hair away from the table, standing up. “fine. i’ll go to my room and be useless.”

as i whip around, my elbow bumps into the chair, which goes tumbling to the ground, charting course to land right on my feet. but, i’m yanked backwards, away from the chair.

“ow!” i yelp at the grip on my waist. “dean!”

“that’s wasn’t me.” he throws his hands up.

“seriously? i’m not stupid.” i gripe.

“it really wasn’t him.” sam confirms.

irked, i shrug it off. “whatever.”

i walk to my room and flop on the bed. what a lousy day. apparently i’m too clumsy for anything. frustration bubbles up in me. when are they gonna stop treating me like a little kid? i’m 25 years old.

i grip my pillow in my hands. stupid brothers. stupid hunting monsters. stupid clumsy feet. stupid everything. it’s not fun being the weakest link.

i groan and chuck my pillow across the room, but it stops midair. i blink, “what the fuck.”

i grab the gun from my bed side table, and when i turn back around, the pillow is gone. i stand up at the foot of my bed, holding the gun ready. something weird is going on.

something that feels a lot like my pillow smacks me in the back of the head. i turn around and point the gun at the wall. there’s nothing there. i let out a deep, shaky breath.

suddenly, my pillow is being held to my face from someone behind me. i let out a scream, and the pillow immediately falls to the ground. i turn around and with a sweep of my feet, knock the intruder to the ground. i stomp on their leg and cock my gun, pointing it at their head.

“who the hell- gabriel?”

footsteps pound down the hallway. it’s no doubt sam and dean, alerted by my scream. i look at him, absolutely confused.

“call off your attack dogs and then we’ll talk.” he says before disappearing again.

sam and dean burst through the door. dean is the first to speak, “what happened?!”

“there was a snake!” i lie. “he slithered back into the wall.”

“you scared us, y/n.” sam relaxed.

“well, the snake scared me.” i half-apologize.

they roll their eyes and leave. i shut the door behind them and cross my arms at gabriel, who has reappeared, but this time on his feet.

“why did you try to suffocate me with my pillow?” i whisper.

“just having some fun, darlin.” he smiles.

i’m not amused. “why are you here?”

“well, if you haven’t noticed, you’re a little clumsy.” he teases.

“if you’re just gonna bash me for it, you can leave.” i warn, aggravated.

“that’s not why i’m here. although, it is super funny.” he smirks.

“i will scream.”

“fine, fine. i’m your guardian angel, or whatever.” gabriel admits.

“my what?” i raise an eyebrow.

“all those times you should’ve gotten hurt out there, but didn’t? that was me.” he comes clean.

“so, you’re the prick that bruised my waist from grabbing me so hard.” i roll my eyes.

“i’m the prick that stopped you from breaking your toe.” he sasses. “let see the bruises.”

“gabriel, no-“

“seriously, let me see. i’m not supposed to let you get hurt.” he demands.

“it’s just some bruises.” i counter.

“that’s still an injury.” he points out.

i reluctantly lift my shirt up to my ribcage and hold it there, allowing him to look at the purple bruises he left. it’s an awkward moment, for sure. his eyes linger there for what seems like forever. i clear my throat, and he snaps out of it and walks toward me.

i let my shirt drop to it’s neutral position and back up, “what are you doing?”

“healing you.” he states.

“gabriel, it’s literally just a few bruises.” i screw up my face.

“it’s bruised down to the bone.” he informs me.

“what the hell?!” i lift my shirt up slightly and look at the bruises again. “all you did was grab me!”

“i’m an archangel, sweetie. we’re rough.” he winks.

“ew.” i throw my pillow at him.

“seriously, c’mere.” he beckons me toward him.

i roll my eyes and walk toward him, holding my shirt up. his large hands grip my waist, sending jolts of butterflies through my stomach. light radiates from his fingertips, and when he pulls away, the bruises are gone.

i gingerly press on my side, and there’s no pain at all. i look back up at gabriel, who is inches away from me. my face flushes red and i clear my throat, taking a step back.

“thank you.” i swallow.

“you’re welcome.” he nods.

dean’s shouts echo through the bunker. “we’re leaving now! remember to stay inside and call jody is you need anything.”

“gabriel?” i smirk.

“what?”

“you might have to protect me from my brother’s fists.” i grin.

“what? kid, don’t make my job harder. y/n-“

i take off towards the garage, taking a short cut, and hop in one of our spare cars. it’s a pickup truck. i sink low into the seat so the boys won’t see me. i hear them as they walk into the garage.

“i kind of feel bad, dean.” i hear sam say as they approach their car. “she really wanted to come.”

“so? she’ll be fine.” he shrugs.

“she’s upset.” sam reasons.

“and she’ll get over it. should we take the truck?” he asks. my body tenses up. oh god, please don’t take the truck.

“it’s too cramped in there.” sam shakes his head.

“you’re right.”

the door to the impala closes and i watch as they drive off. gabriel pops into the passenger’s seat beside me.

“this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. they’re gonna kill you.” he tells me.

“good thing i have a guardian angel.” i smile cheesily.

i speed off after them and follow them through the twisting roads. i wonder if they’re suspicious of me. they probably are. they’ve probably already recognized the car.

my phone rings, making me jump. i pick up. “hello?”

“is everything okay at home?” sam’s voice asks through the phone.

“yep. hey, where you guys even going?” i ask.

he sighs, “a vampire hunt. it’s not too far, but stay home. we should be back soon.”

“fine. bye, sam.” i hang up the phone. “ready to watch me kill some bloodsuckers, gabe?”

“y/n, you should go home.” he leans back in the seat.

“if you say that again i’ll make your job even harder by crashing the car.” i joke.

he scoffs. “seriously, go home.”

“listen, i don’t even need a guardian angel in the first place, much less another person bossing me around.” my tone becomes serious.

“you do need a guardian angel.” he rolls his eyes. “you’d be dead by now without me.”

“bullshit. i don’t need- or want a guardian angel. so, go away.” i huff.

“y/n, c’mon-“

“go away and stop guarding me, gabriel.” i demand.

he sighs. “fine.”

he disappears and i slam on my steering wheel. i watch as sam and dean pull into a warehouse. i wait until they walk into the building to park and get out. i walk up behind them and tap them on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin on my face.

“y/n, what the hell?” dean whisper shouts. “get out!”

“i’m here to help, there’s no reason in sending me home now.” i smile.

“i’m killing you when we get home.” he groans as vampires come running towards us.

i take my machete and start slinging, one by one demolishing the nest by cutting their heads off. i get carried away. i’m doing really good!

a pair of fangs plunge into my neck and start sucking. a sharp pain coarses through my body. i scream and writhe under their touch. i feel the blood flowing out of my neck and into their mouth, but i’m utterly helpless.

i’m pushed to the ground, away from the vampire. i look up and watch as gabriel decapitates him. he looks down at me, his face saying all i need to know. if he were to speak right now, he would say- “i told you so.”

he quickly leans down and presses two fingers to my neck, healing my injury, and then vanishes into thin air. sam and dean come running over to my side.

“are you okay?” sam asks.

“did it hurt you?” his voice is threatening.

“no, i killed him.” i lie. “i just fell.”

dean is furious with me, so he drives home alone, while sam accompanies me in the truck. after a few minutes of driving, he turns to me with a smile on his face.

“you faired pretty well.” he’s full of pride.

i know i really didn’t, and i’d probably be dead if it weren’t for gabriel. “i know.”

back at the bunker, i sit on my bed, hugging mh pillow. i was raised by one of the best hunters ever, and i suck at hunting. i’ve had every resource i could imagine to get better, and all the experience i could have, and i still suck.

i cry. the hot tears stream down my face. i’m really not good at anything, am i? i’m the worst winchester. i can’t do anything. i need a guardian angel to save my life because i can’t even handle myself with a dumb vampires nest. sam and dean were right; gabriel was right; everyone was right about me.

the bed dips a little in the corner. i look up and see gabriel sitting there, watching me. i sniff and wipe the tears away, trying (and failing) to cover up the fact that i’m upset.

“you’ve gotten stop surprising me like that.” i force a laugh.

“i’m always watching, y/n. i know you’re crying.” he’s sympathetic, but i don’t want him to be.

i deflect. “always watching? that’s creepy.”

“a little, but enjoy the show.” he laughs.

“ew, gabe.” i crinkle up my nose.

“why are you crying?” he asks, getting back on topic.

“do we really have to talk about this?” i groan.

“well, i am your guardian angel.” he shrugs.

“i’m not hurt.”

he adds, “physically.”

“it’s a story for another time,” i sniff.

“no, no. now.” he corrects.

i roll my eyes and hesitate. “i’m the worst winchester.”

“you’re all pretty insufferable, and stubborn.” he waves a dismissive hand.

“gee, thanks, but, thats not what i mean.” i press my lips into a grimace. “i can’t hunt. i need a stupid guardian angel to watch over me so i don’t die. i’m not good at anything.”

“i bet you’re good at something.” he reasons.

“nope.” i shake my head.

“hm...” his eyes flicker down to my mouth. my breath hitches.

he leans in, before i could even protest (if i wanted to), and kisses me. gabriel, the archangel, kisses me. my hands work through his hair momentarily before he pulls away.

he breaths, “you’re good at that.”

my face flushes red. maybe i do need a guardian angel.

[achillestiel]

the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part seven of eight | ao3 link

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch @stjimmie @cmths5 @chamomilecas @syrille

“Just stay. I don’t know how but we can work something out.” Cas said. “Please.” He said pleadingly. Dean’s reply was to bring their lips back together. Cas sighed happily as they just sat on the couch kissing for a long time. “Dean, come to bed with me.” Cas said breathily, his lips hovering just over Dean’s ear. It sent a shiver of excitement through his whole body.

“Of course.” Dean replied, taking Cas’ hand as one of the phones on the coffee table vibrated loudly. Claire’s phone. Dean was about to ignore it until he saw Eileen’s name on the screen. With a roll of his eyes, Dean grabbed the phone off the table, looking down at the screen and smiling.  

Hey! We haven’t heard anything from you for a while. Guessing you’re still in DC. Did you do the car thing? Gotta keep the rest of Team Parent Trap updated!

“You ever feel like your whole family is plotting against you?” Dean asked, showing Cas the screen. “Those kids are seriously doing to be the death of us if they’ve roped Eileen, Sam and Gabriel into this.”

“I think it speaks volumes that they all want to see us together.” Cas said, smiling down at the phone screen as he scrolled back up the messages. “Why are they called Team Parent Trap?”

“You...you’ve...wow. Cas, you’re lucky you’re hot.” Dean said, shaking his head. He threw Claire’s phone onto the couch while Cas flicked off all the lights downstairs. They walked hand in hand upstairs, stopping by Jack’s room and knocking on the door. Jack and Claire were sitting watching TV, looking like butter wouldn’t melt. Claire grinned smugly at Dean when she saw his hand laced with Cas’.

“We’re going to go to bed kids, don’t stay up too long.”

“And don’t even think about touching the car again.”

“We’re innocent until proven guilty with concrete evidence.” Claire said with yet another smug grin.

“Spoken like the niece of a lawyer.” Cas said, chuckling. “You may have gotten away with it if your Aunt hadn’t thrown you under the bus.”

“Dang it Aunt Eileen.” Claire muttered.

“Yeah well, we’ll talk more about your punishment in the morning. Night kids, love you both.”

“Love you too dad.” The twins said in unison. Dean grinned at them as Cas also wished the twins goodnight and headed to their room.

“I honestly don’t know whether to be proud of them or question our parenting skills.” Dean said as Cas led him not to the guest where they had slept the night before but to Cas’ room. He smiled to himself as he walked into the room. It was just so Cas. Nearly every available surface was covered with books, nick nacks from around the globe and photos of him and Jack.    

“What?” Cas asked, noticing Dean’s smile.

“Twelve years and you still manage to make any room you call your own a museum of stuff. ” Dean said, looking around the room and smiling at various ornaments. “It’s like a cross between a gift shop and the library of congress.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Cas said and Dean just laughed, pulling him close for another chaste kiss. “I was serious by the way, I want you to stay come the morning.”

“Cas, I want to stay but I need to go home. For starters, I’ve been wearing the same boxers for two days but I also have a garage to run.” Dean said between kisses. “How about we just enjoy tonight and try to work something out come morning?” Dean asked. Cas sighed but nodded, letting Dean pull him in for another kiss. Clothes were soon discarded on the floor, both men losing themselves in the touch of the other.

“Dean…” Cas whispered. Both of them moments away from drifting off to sleep. “I...I love you.” he said. Dean was silent for a beat before Cas felt him wrap his arms around Cas’ waist.

“I love you too.”

When Cas awoke the next morning it was to Dean’s arms holding him close, the distance of twelve years effectively dissolved over the course of two days. Dean’s face was burrowed into Cas’ back, making him smile when he felt Dean’s gentle breaths against his skin. Cas knew their time together was drawing to a close, because even he knew that Dean needed to go back to Kansas. He didn’t want to think about it but it was inevitable. Dean and Claire would have to return home, leaving both Cas and Jack heartbroken.

Downstairs, Cas could hear the sound of laughter and clanging pots. He was warm and cosy in Dean’s arms but if he didn’t get downstairs soon then there was a high chance something would catch on fire. Careful not to wake Dean, Cas slid out of bed and dressed in a simple sweater and pants combo. From the bed Dean let a contented sigh, smashing his face into one of Cas’ duck feather pillows. Cas smiled to himself as he looked down at Dean. Even after all these years Dean really was the most beautiful person he had ever met. Another loud clang from the kitchen pulled Cas’ focus from him. He prayed that his kitchen was still standing as he hurried downstairs.

"Hey Pops!" Claire called as Cas walked into the kitchen.  

"Pops?" Cas asked, glancing around the room. Pots and pans littered the surfaces

"It was getting confusing calling you both Dad. If you don't like Pops there's also Daddy-o or Padre." Claire said with a grin.

"Pops it is." Cas said.

“How long have you two been up? You haven’t been playing mechanic again have you?” Cas asked the twins.

“Not long, we’ve only just got up.” Jack said. “We haven’t touched the car, we promise.”

“I have a hard time believing that when it comes to you two.” Cas said. “What exactly are you two up to?”

“Making pancakes.” Jack said, grinning brightly.

“And yet it looks more like you’re making a mess, scooch over. I’ll make breakfast while you two try to stay out of trouble.” Cas said as he started to make breakfast. He was just plating up a huge stack of pancakes when Dean came into the room.

“I smelt pancakes.” Dean said between a loud yawn. He stretched out his arms as he walked over to Claire, giving her a high five before ruffling Jack’s hair.

“You could smell pancakes from a mile away.” Cas retorted. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

“Thanks.” Dean said, shooting Cas a warm smile as he filled up two mugs, passing one over to Cas. Neither Dean nor Cas missed the smug looks on the twin's faces. “Shut up and eat your pancakes. You two are still in trouble for yesterday.”

“Yes, we’re now contemplating whether to go old testament or new testament god.” Cas added. The four of them sat in comfortable silence, eating pancakes and drinking coffee. The fact that Claire and Dean were leaving still felt like it was hanging over their heads and Cas noticed just how slowly the twins were eating. Drawing out the departure for as long as possible. After nearly half an hour there was no more putting it off.

"Claire, why don't you go and grab your bag? I just have to talk to your dad for a second." Dean said. Claire nodded but she and Jack walked away Dean heard them both sniffling. Dammit, all it took for Dean was to hear the twins sniffling and his eyes began to water. "Um...how about we come here for Thanksgiving? You and Jack can spend Christmas with us...I know it's not the best but..."

"I can't leave DC right now and it's not the best for you to leave Kansas?" Cas offered. "I want you and Claire to stay so much but..."

"We can make something work, right?" Dean stammered as tears welled in his eyes. He tried to blinked when but when he saw Cas' eyes filled with tears that sent him over the edge. "Dammit Cas, you just had to be so easy to fall in love with didn't you?" Dean joked between tears.

"I'm going to kiss you but it's not a kiss goodbye ok?" Cas said, cupping Dean's tear-stained face.

"Ok Cas." Dean replied. Cas pulled him in close and their lips met. They only parted when they heard coughing. Claire and Jack stood their awkwardly, both of them with red-rimmed eyes. "We...we best be heading off...traffic...you know." Dean stammered out. "Come here dude." He said to Jack, holding out his arms. Jack ran into his arms, hugging him tightly as Claire sprinted towards Cas. The four of them just standing there and hugging for several minutes.

"So, Jack and I will be seeing you at Thanksgiving." Cas said to Claire. Claire nodded but Dean could see the tears in her eyes.

"And then you're gonna spend Christmas in Kansas with Claire and me, that's cool right?" Dean said to Jack. He too was crying as he nodded. Dean pulled his son back in for another hug. Holding on tightly until it was finally time to go. "Love you kiddo."

"Love you too dad." Jack said.

"This is going to be hard but try to stay out of trouble." Cas said to Claire. Claire let out a sniffling laugh and nodded.

"I'll try. Love you Pops."

"I love you too Claire-Bear." Cas said. "We'll walk you out to the car." Cas said to Dean. The four of them walked out to the Impala, Dean towing their bags in the trunk. Claire and Jack exchanged a tear-filled hug. Dean wiped away a tear and felt Cas lace his hand through Dean's. Cas gripped tightly, silently telling Dean that he loved him. Dean squeezed back and watched as Claire gave Jack and Cas one last teary look before she got in the car.

"Um...I'll call you when we're home...maybe we can talk more when Claire and I are back in Kansas." Dean said, giving Cas one last kiss.

"Drive safe Dean." Cas said. He and Jack stepped back as Dean got into the car. Cas and Jack stood in the driveway waving to them until Dean was halfway down the street.  

"Are you mad at me?" Dean asked a still sniffling Claire. She turned to glare at him with her red-tinged eyes. "Gonna take that as a yes."

"Yes I am mad at you and I think you're an idiot! You love Pops, I know it and you know it. Heck, Jack, Uncle Gabriel, Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen know it! Even Pops himself knows it! You love him and he loves you! YOu've always loved him otherwise you wouldn't get drunk and cry watching cowboy films." Claire yelled, her eyes filling with tears again. "I just want my family to be together and instead we're driving away from them! I know we have Uncle Sam and Aunt Eileen back home but Pops and Jack are our family. This whole thing is so goddamn stupid!"

"Claire, we'll see them at Thanks-"

"I don't want to wait until Thanksgiving to see my dad and brother. I want them with us! Don't you want them with us?"

"Of course I do Claire!"

"THEN WHY ARE WE STILL DRIVING BACK TO KANSAS ?" Claire yelled, her voice so loud that Dean nearly slammed on the breaks. "Just answer me that Dad!"

"I...I don't know...holy fuck you're right. I don't know." Dean said, slamming on the breaks and doing a completely illegal u-turn.

“What are you doing ?” Claire hollered, sliding around on her seat as the drivers behind them blared their horns.

“Chasing after your dad...kind of...ok I'm going to your dad...either way, I'm doing something I should have done twelve years ago.” Dean said, racing back down the road towards Cas’ house. The Impala had barely come to a stop but Claire was unbuckling her seatbelt and leaping out the car.  

“Dad! Claire!" Jack called, sprinting out of the house and running up to Claire. They both hugged tightly as Cas stood in the doorway just staring at them with disbelief.  

“It took us about 30 seconds after we left for us to realise we didn't want to lose you two again.” Claire said.

“We?” Cas asked.

“We.” Dean said, climbing out the Impala and striding over to Cas. “I made the mistake of not coming chasing after you all those years ago. I didn’t want you to have to chase me this time.” Dean said, shrugging like his words were far more casual than they were. Cas let out a chuckle and just shook his head.

“How is this going to work?” he asked. “I’m here in DC and you're in Kansas. What about the kids? How is this going to work?”

“We can make it work Cas, I know we can 'cause...I love you Cas. Always have. Always will.” Dean said, pulling Cas in for a kiss.  

"And I love you too Winchester. Until the end of my days." Cas said, grinning from ear to ear.

“I can’t believe we actually did this.” Jack said, high fiving Claire.  

“Yes...you two are still grounded you know?” Cas said.

"Aw dang it." Claire and Jack said in unison.

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 2

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

His body heavy, eyes drooping closed, Adrien released his transformation and flopped on his bed face down. Who in the world thought that him running a fashion empire after spending all day teaching the principles of physics to teenagers was a good idea? Add in Chat Noir’s obligatory patrols, and you've got yourself a sleep-deprived, confused, and stressed disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow.

“I’m so tempted to just sleep,” he whispered into the silence of his bedroom. “There’s always morning for changing clothes and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably a kwami-free one. I didn’t sign up for this uncivilized, touchy-feely stuff. Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being an involuntary participant in your grossly romantic endeavours?”

“If it were up to me, I would've done that a long time ago,” Adrien murmured. His shoes and clothes already on the floor, he crawled under the comforter, yawning. “But, you know just as well as I do that it isn't up to me, and Ladybug might actually be right about it being dangerous.”

“Hawkmoth hasn’t been active for years,” Plagg whined, finishing wiping himself with a sanitizing towelette and immediately heading straight for his stash of Camembert. “He’s probably dead already. Why do you still need to keep these masks on?”

“Hawkmoth not being active for a while isn’t proof that we’ll never see him again,” Adrien replied, wrapping himself around his pillow. “What if he’s just waiting for us to put our guard down to strike?”

“He isn’t that smart.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Adrien yawned again. “The man kept us on our toes for a decade. But even if, presumably, he’s out for good, this isn't the time to start a relationship still.”

“Why not?”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien mumbled, his eyes closed as he snuggled the pillow closer. “You know as well as I do that Ladybug is going through a rough period right now. Her job now demands all of her time and attention thanks to that jerk-boss that ditched them. Her relationship with her roommate—her best friend may I add—seems to worsen every time I hear about it. And have you even seen her? She’s lost weight and looks pale and tired all the time.” Adrien paused, opening his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked into the darkness of his bedroom. “Right now, Ladybug needs a friend who’ll support her, not another relationship to work on. And since I can’t help her with her civilian life, I’d be damned if I added to her problems.”

Adrien rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head. Ladybug needed a friend right now, not a boyfriend, and he loved her too much to add a romantic relationship to her already nearly unbearable pile. So until she got her promotion, he’d support her as a friend and would remain close for whenever she needed him. Once she reached her goal, though, that would change because then, Ladybug would actually have time and strength for a relationship with him. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid he was risking ruining everything before it even started. He’d already waited for her for years, he could certainly wait a little longer.  

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and started to settle in his little bed, turning and twisting until he found the perfect position. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Plagg,” Adrien replied, his thoughts racing back to his Lady and the effortless friendship they’d developed that tiptoed dangerously on the border of romance. It would come eventually. Adrien knew that, and when it did, he'd make his Lady the happiest girl in all of France. He'd never take her for granted. He'd always—

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg suddenly grumbled. “It’s creepy to grin like an idiot in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your wastebasket all the way over there?”

“I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. Now, stop it and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours left to sleep.”

“Don’t remind me.” Adrien groaned, flopping on his back. “I should’ve sold my shares and been done with it.”

“Then why did you listen to that dude from your work? You should try it, Adrien,” Plagg mocked. “See for yourself before deciding on what to do: continue teaching or follow in your father’s footsteps. Nonsense, I tell you. You should’ve sold and invested in Camembert production, something useful for once.”

“Max isn't a dude,” Adrien chuckled. “He's a friend, and he has a point. I've spent my life hating the fashion industry only because of my father and his crazy obsession with his work. Maybe—”

“He kicked you out of the house because you followed your passion instead of whatever he wanted you to do.”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, this fashion nonsense ruined your life. Why would you want to ‘try it out’?”

“My life isn’t ruined. And I think it’s smart to make sure I really do hate heading a fashion empire instead of simply projecting my failed relationship with my father on the whole industry.”

“A load of BS if you ask me.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s just for a few months. If I don’t like it by the end of the summer, I’m selling.”

“It’s May now—”

“Almost June.”

“Still May, meaning that there are more than a few months until the end of the summer. And good luck enjoying each and every one of them with Marinette around. She gave you quite a welcome today, didn’t she?”  

Adrien froze, all sleep vanishing at once, events of the past that changed his life forever flashing in front of his eyes.

***

On the day of their high school graduation, Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable, expressing in the most beautiful and sincere of ways just how much he meant to her. When she finished speaking, with a trembling, hopeful smile on her lips, she raised her eyes, full of fear and anxiety, to look at him, but stunned, Adrien couldn't reply for the longest time.

He loved Marinette. He truly did, but only as a dear, close friend. He hated to reject her feelings, but even if Adrien wanted to give Marinette his heart, he couldn't. It had belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they’d met.

Speechless, all Adrien was able to do was look back at Marinette with eyes full of regret and apology. She didn’t need words to understand his answer. Whispering something he didn’t quite catch, Marinette escaped before Adrien could do as little as to say how sorry he was.

He’d never forgiven himself for breaking her heart, and if only he had been more careful, Adrien was certain they would’ve gotten through that incident without losing their friendship. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t so lucky. A few days later, he learned that Marinette had been pre-approved for an internship at his father's company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew quite well what working for his father entailed and what it did to people as nice as Marinette. Sure, from the sidelines, being an employee at the hottest fashion house around seemed glamorous and exciting. In reality, there were only two options: you either allow this work to squash you and have a nervous breakdown before your first year was up, or you become just like his father—a cold, emotionless, heartless workaholic. There were no in-betweens or exceptions as far as Adrien was aware.

He couldn't let any of those happen to Marinette. Not when he wouldn’t be there to protect her. Not when, following a massive argument with his father over his plans for the future less than a week ago, Adrien was about to walk out of there himself. As of that moment, Adrien was supposed to move out of his childhood home by the end of the month if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Otherwise, he’d have to cater to his father’s every whim indefinitely. The choice was clear, and seeing as he was escaping that hell of a company himself, Adrien couldn't silently stand on the sidelines and watch Marinette try to get on board. Not when, unlike him, she didn't know the reality of working for his father. Sadly enough, considering the timing, Adrien doubted that based on his words alone, Marinette would ditch her lifelong dream of working for Gabriel in favour of any other fashion houses that were sure to welcome her with open arms as soon as they saw her portfolio.

That's why he'd done it. That's why Adrien stole her file from his father's office.

He only wanted to protect her. He never meant any harm. He planned to sneak her portfolio to a few of his acquaintances in the other fashion houses that would be a much better fit for Marinette than his father's company ever could.

Perhaps, he could've chosen a better way to go about that, but at that moment, this was all that Adrien could come up with. Better timing also would’ve been nice. With his rejection of her confession, the moment to mess around with Marinette’s passions was as wrong as could be. Still, Adrien was confident his plan would work. The next day, he had a photoshoot for a fashion house that was on top of his list of better options for Marinette, so he stashed a copy of her portfolio in his bag and didn’t think twice about it.

Big mistake.

An hour before he was supposed to leave for the said photoshoot, Alya and Nino dragged him out of the house, picked up Marinette on their way and headed to their favourite cafe for some celebration he couldn’t even remember now. Despite the slight awkwardness between Marinette and him, their hang out turned out to be quite enjoyable. So pleasant, in fact, that Adrien let his guard down and made the second biggest mistake of his life—he’d allowed Alya to rummage around in his bag for mints while he visited the men's room before departing for his photoshoot.

Huge… colossal mistake.

Adrien stopped short of reaching the table on his way back. His friends stared at him in shock; his gaze focused on Marinette.

“Is this the reason no one could find my application when I called them three days ago?” She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes as she clutched her portfolio in her hands. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well? They couldn’t find my portfolio because you took it?”

His body and mind paralyzed, Adrien stood frozen in place. He hadn't expected Marinette to find out. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do or say.

Hastily, Marinette gathered her things and headed for the door only to halt her steps in front of him a moment later.

“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I can understand and accept you not returning my feelings; no one can control their heart. But this?” Her voice cracked as tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her face. “Why would you be so cruel? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

Stunned, Adrien helplessly watched Marinette for a few moments, his dumbfounded silence only fueling her already rushed assumption about the situation. When his speech had returned, he’d scrambled to explain.

“You can’t work for my father.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. And why?”

“It’s a bad idea. You don’t know what working for him can do to you. Marinette, I’ve been there. I’ve seen things… terrible things that happen to people because they can’t handle the workload and demands. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you—”

Marinette raised her hand and spat, “Stop it. I don’t care what you’ve seen there. Those people aren't me. This is not yourdecision to make, Adrien. It’s my life. My decisions. And if it would be a mistake, I want to be the one making it!”

“But—”

“Save it. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong. Friends support each other, not—” She swallowed, looking away, and quietly added, “If my feelings are so much of an inconvenience to you that you didn’t even want me working at your father’s company, you should’ve said so. I would have stayed away on my own. You didn’t have to do this.”

With those words, she walked away. Alya and Nino followed.  

“I can’t believe you,” Alya had snarled. Nino kept looking down as he followed his girlfriend.

They’d kicked him out of their private chat room that same day. Adrien's multiple calls, emails and texts over the next few weeks to the three had gone unanswered. His hope for a chance to explain had been slowly dying, and in the end, it was Chloe—the only friend who remained by his side—who’d convinced him to give up. His heart was breaking, but Chloe was likely right; if none of his friends had responded by then, they’d probably blocked him. Adrien had some pride left, and he wasn’t going to impose himself on anyone in person if they wouldn't speak to him over the phone. There was only so much he could do trying to fix that mess; and he’d done more than enough. By the end of the month, Adrien moved out of the mansion, changed his contacts, and tried to start a new life, leaving everyone behind.

With his move, his relationship with his father had taken a sharp turn for the worse, the two of them becoming as good as strangers. Thankfully, Adrien had enough work and savings to support himself. Soon, he’d found new friends in university, and life seemed to be regaining at least some sense of normalcy. He regretted neither leaving his father nor trying to stop Marinette from entering Gabriel. Quite the opposite, Adrien would've never forgiven himself if he hadn't tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

Years passed. Adrien graduated and began working as a physics teacher at a local high school, ending his modelling career as soon as he’d signed his teaching contract.

He never heard much from Gabriel until the day his lawyer called from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything, but in his heart, Adrien still mourned. He still cared because no matter how estranged they'd grown, Gabriel was still his father and there had been times when Adrien had been happy with him. He wished it could've been different. He wished they could've had a better relationship, but it was a little too late to change anything when his father was taking his final breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

***

Adrien shifted in his bed. He had never asked to inherit anything. He didn’t need this company. It ruined a good part of his life, and for that, he hated it. Being cut off by his former friends, he didn’t know Marinette had been working there, sending all of his sacrifices to hell. But, boy, was he right. That gorgeous woman that snuck into his father’s office today—yes, he had to admit she was gorgeous; Marinette was always pretty but she had bloomed into a beautiful woman—was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. A thick layer of exhaustion glazed over her stunning blue eyes; her flawless skin looked pale; the sagging curve of her pink lips did absolutely nothing to accentuate her loveliness. The deep frown line in the middle of her forehead might have been there because of meeting him, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working for his father hadn’t been merciful to Marinette.

Just as he’d predicted.

The worst part of all, however, was that Marinette seemed to not see it herself, fighting for a company that, without a strong leader, was quickly going under. Didn’t she have anyone in her life to care enough for her to shake her out of that trance? Didn’t she—

A thought popped into his head so unexpected and crazy, his eyes widened. It was rather insane, but perhaps fate was giving him a chance to redeem himself?

Whatever wrong he’d done before, his intentions were always pure: to help Marinette. She used to be his friend. He cared for her. Surely fate or destiny or whatever cosmic force that controlled his luck saw that and thought it unfair for Adrien to be condemned for what he hadn’t done. He wasn’t a backstabber; he was a loyal friend.

So, perhaps if he was the bigger person and helped Marinette now, she’d see his noble objective and would have to admit that he wasn’t as horrible of a person as she probably thought him to be. Perhaps she’d even apologize. He was older now, more mature. Surely, he could come up with better plans for how to improve Marinette's life, help her succeed, and prove the purity of his intentions and sincerity of his character.

He did also kind of owe her for breaking her heart. Maybe this was a chance to atone for that as well.

Adrien shook his head and rolled over in his bed. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for someone who tossed him aside without even letting him explain. He shouldn’t help anyone who wouldn’t even listen to him or give him the benefit of the doubt.

He had been her friend. She had claimed to be in love with him. Why then was a simple mistake big enough for her to dismiss years of friendship and kick him out of her life? Why should he even think about doing anything nice for such a person, even if only to prove himself right?

Because she helped you just a few hours ago despite hating you.

Adrien groaned. Damn conscience! He still shouldn’t! She did it for the sake of her job, not because she cared for him.

She still helped you when you needed help. She isn’t a lost cause yet. There's still good in her.

Adrien pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t! Not after the way she treated him.

Weren’t you the one to deliver the first blow, though?

Adrien sat up, running his hands through his hair. Why was he such a pushover? Why couldn’t he be more like his father when it came to things like these? Why was he already thinking of the ways he could help Marinette?

Because you aren’t your father, and you still care.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help her.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Just leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

Settling back into his bed, Adrien closed his eyes and hoped for a few peaceful hours of slumber. Instead, his head buzzed with ideas crazy enough to make him chuckle one moment and bemoan his existence the next. By the time the morning rolled in, there were only two things that Adrien was certain of:

First, Gabriel would have to go. His father had built that company on his employees’ tears and suffering. It wasn’t worth saving, even if Adrien thought he figured out how to do that. It might be a petty, personal revenge move, but Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to care. It would be the right thing to do. Most of its employees had already handed in their resignation letters, anyway.

Second, there was only one way for Marinette to make it in this industry now: find a position in a different company. With her talent, it shouldn't be a problem. He just had to play his cards right and find her a company that would appreciate her more than his father ever did—showing her in the process what a grave mistake she made all those years back when she had cast him aside so cruelly.

Next >

[xiueryn]

I live for 63. Like when they have been “best friends” for so long they don’t realize that they are one kiss away from married and it drives everyone else crazy. Especially if even Gabriel assumes that his son is secretly dating Marinette. Could you please do this?

sixty-three: “everybody knows/mistaken for couple”

“I got asked about you again today,” Adrien confessed.

Marinette didn’t look up from where she had her head against his shoulder, keeping her gaze on her laptop that was placed on the coffee table in front of them. The volume was a little too quiet to hear, especially when he was talking, but she was too comfortable to move.

Plus, it wasn’t that interesting.

“What this time?” she asked. “Questions about our ice cream date last week?”

“Close,” he replied, amusement clear in his voice. “About the pictures we posted together. My mom saw them and got excited again.”

She laughed. “No.”

“Yeah.” Adrien sagged back against the sofa, causing her to shift closer to him to try and get comfortable again. “It’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

Marinette mused, “I mean, we do kind of lean into it.”

“Barely,” he said. “Only if they’re teasing us.”

“As open as I am to having fun and pretending to flirt with you, I’m never doing that in front of your parents,” Marinette proclaimed. “Or mine, at that.”

His body shook as he laughed. “What if I paid you?”

“It would have to be some damn good payment,” she replied. “Loving you has to be hard work. I mean, look at how fed up with you your mother is—”

He sniffed. “Rude.”

“Worst son,” Marinette cooed, lazily reaching up to press her finger to the tip of his nose. “Can’t even get a girlfriend, can you? It’s so sad.”

“I am not a disappointment just because I’m not dating,” he protested, pushing her hand away.

With a laugh, she pointed out, “You break her heart, like, every time you tell her we’re not together.”

“And how is that my fault?” Adrien asked. “Maybe you shouldn’t befriend my parents in the first place.”

Marinette turned her head to grin up at him. “But I’m so charming.”

“That’s not the word I’d use,” he muttered.

“No?” Marinette questioned, purposely fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Adrien lightly shoved her off of him.

Laughing, she stretched out and lounged on her back, draping her legs over his lap to his half-hearted protests, and made sure there was a pillow behind her head as she faced him. “That’s not an answer.”

“Do you even deserve one?” He gestured towards her legs. “You clearly don’t love me.”

“Oh, I adore you,” she assured him, but it sounded ever-so-insincere. “But I also know how much of an idiot you are, so I have no respect for you any more.”

Dramatically, he put the back of his hand to his forehead. “I miss the days where you were nice to me.”

“I’m plenty nice to you,” Marinette said. “I even made your dad think we’re dating.”

Adrien’s expression was unimpressed. “And now he thinks we’re secretly dating.”

She grinned. “Nice.”

“No, not nice,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “It means he keeps pulling me away for secret talks.”

“Surely not the sex talk again?”

“Worse,” Adrien uttered. “He asked if we’re using protection last week.”

She almost choked on her laughter.

“It’s not funny!” he exclaimed, but it was ruined by his own laughter. “He—I almost died, Marinette. Why did you even say yes in the first place?”

“Because he was so excited about it,” she explained, grimacing. “I couldn’t break his heart. He’s already got enough grey hairs.”

Adrien pointed out, “You literally told him he looks like a bird when we were younger.”

“Yeah, so I contributed to some of the grey hairs,” she agreed. “But I was clearly joking when I said yes, okay. It’s not my fault he actually took it seriously.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to die because of you.”

With a wide smile, she asked, “Is that a compliment?”

Adrien crossed his arms. “No, you suck.”

“I could suck you, if you were nicer,” she deadpanned.

Adrien was still unimpressed. “I’m sure.”

“Tell me I’m pretty and we’ll see.”

His face was straight as he announced, “Marinette, you’re so beautiful I want to cry.”

She pretended to shoot him with her fingers. “You bet I am.”

“You can’t even be modest,” he scolded.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Marinette replied, shaking her head.

He raised his chin up. “It’s called being honest.”

She made a non-committal noise in response to that.

“So,” he started, uncrossing his arms and resting one hand on her shin, the other going behind his head to be more comfortable. “That’s a no to fake-dating me, isn’t it?”

The laptop was still playing the show, but neither of them were paying attention to it any more.

With a laugh, she replied, “Not unless the payment is really good.”

“My company’s not enough?”

“No,” she confirmed without hesitation. “I need compensation for putting up with you.”

Adrien breathed out audibly. “You can just say you hate me, you know.”

“I love you,” Marinette replied. “Just not that much.”

“But how much is that much?” he enquired.

She held up her hand, showing him the small distance between her thumb and finger. “About this much.”

“Very informative,” he blankly said. “Thanks, so much.”

She beamed. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t realise I’m this undateable,” he lamented.

Far too lazy to sit up and reach out to pat his arm, Marinette chose to remain how she was as she replied, “You’ll find a special someone someday.”

“So,” he started once again. But unlike the previous time, he didn’t immediately continue with what he wanted to say.

She raised her eyebrows. “So?”

Adrien was visibly thinking his answer through, going as far as to open his mouth to start, only for him to close it again, looking a bit frustrated.

Sitting up, she put her feet on the floor—no longer in his lap—and scooted over to him so her thigh was touching his. “What is it?”

“On the scale of one to ten,” Adrien began, sitting forward and running a hand through his hair. “How much would you hate me if I… I actually asked you to go on a date with me?”

She blinked. “But I’ve already said no.”

“Yeah, to a fake one,” he pointed out. “I mean, like, a real one—if you’re notopposed to that, that is. I mean, I’d get if you don’t want to—”

“Hang on,” Marinette said, holding a hand up. “You—what?”

The top of his ears were pink. “I’d like to go on a date with you?”

It was very apparent that it came out sounding like a question.

He cleared his throat. “A real one. Not a—not as friends.”

“Why?”

“I like you,” he confessed. “And, well, my dad did give me condoms because of you.”

It took a moment for him to realise what he said.

Then, he sounded horrified as he backtracked and exclaimed, “Not like that! I meant—it was just a joke, okay?”

As surprising as it was, Marinette was able to ask, “Is one or ten the worst?”

He looked baffled. “What?”

“On your scale?” she supplied.

“I—I didn’t really think about it,” Adrien admitted. “I was just being dumb.”

She beamed. “I’d like to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Marinette confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “We could even go for ice cream again, if you want? And post another picture for your mom to see.”

He snorted. “That’s just baiting her at this point.”

Marinette couldn’t resist saying, “If it goes well, you can say yes to her this time, then.”

pick two prompts from here and i’ll write a small(?) adrien/mari drabble for it

[wwwafflewrites]

Team Free Will+ Getting Stranded

Part 1

Both Winchesters would admit that the fight wasn't going well. Indeed, even with Castiel and Gabriel on their side, that ought to have been enough to stop an army of demons, they were losing. Sorely.

Dean ducked and met with Sam once again, fighting as one as the demons surrounded them. At one point, their backs were touching. Sam had the demon knife while Dean had an angel blade.

Castiel was doing his own thing, mostly with his own angel blade. He hardly had enough juice to smite one demon, much less an entire army.

Gabriel just kind of happened to be there. Wrong place, wrong time. It was actually quite impressive; Gabriel was still recovering from his time with Asmodeus, and now after only burning his tormentor twenty-eight hours ago, he was smiting demons again. It was quite the unexpected turnout, considering two days ago Gabriel was a terrifed, broken victim who had suffered to an unfathomable number of years of torture.

Too bad everyone was too occupied to notice the demon painting a bloody symbol along the wall. By the time Castiel saw it, it was too late. The demon slapped their hand on the sigil, splattering blood, and Team Free Will felt the air tremble at the immense power.

Castiel's eyes had blown wide. "That sigil is forbidden!" he yelled. But since when did demons care about forbidden? He had then put his hand out, reaching for Dean's and Sam's shoulder to warm them; he had to warn them. The force of the sigil knocked the wind out of him before he could speak a word.

Castiel was in the sky, falling at breakneck speeds. He could smell the burning grace of his wings, which had ignited in the heat of the fall. He was spinning, out of control, and his wings were too broken up to cushion much of anything. He then realized there was nowhere to land except back to Earth because Heaven was locked.

Then he realized his hand was still holding on to something. A jacket… a shoulder. His eyes managed to look at who it was connected to. It was Dean, who was unconscious, likely from the unbearable G-force he was enduring. And with all the strength he had left, Castiel brought him closer, curling his wings around the fragile human, for otherwise there was even fewer a chance of the hunter surviving such a fall.

Cas frantically looked for Sam, but Gabriel's voice called out before he could worry to death over the younger brother, "I've got the moose!" The archangel was trying to sound strong, words still heavy with sass like such a fall was above him, but Castiel could hear the strain in his voice.

They were still falling, with little choice of where they were to land. Castiel could see miles of wooded area, through the blur of his vision. This was definitely far from any civilization.

The oak tree branches hit them like bullets, and they could barely acknowledge the pain of it all before they hit solid ground.

It hurt so much that Castiel didn't dare breathe. His wings unfurled on their own, revealing a mostly unharmed Dean Winchester. The hunter was still unconscious, but it relieved Castiel like nothing else. Dean was alive.

Gabriel stood, head in his hands like he was only dizzy.

Cas shouldn't have been surprised—Gabriel was an archangel, and he was not.

Said archangel eventually snapped out of his stupor, checking on his brother before letting his face show a flicker of vulnerability: worry. Worry for Castiel.

Gabriel moved Dean from off of the angel, scowling and cursing out the hunter for using his brother as a pillow. Cas tried to voice that he didn't mind, but nothing came out. Why couldn't he speak?

Gabriel was staring at his chest. "Kiddo."

Cas then realized there was a branch impaled into his sternum. Huh. He hadn't noticed before.

"Alright, alright bite onto this." Gabriel offered him a convenient stick.

Castiel did as he was told like a soldier.

Dean came to before Gabriel had the chance to work out how to remove Cas from the piercing branch. The human rolled, grunting but overall he was fine. He blinked up at the pair of angels and their situation, and suddenly he forgot his own pains. He scrambled up, stumbling over to Gabriel's side. "Cas," he breathed.

Gabriel motioned to Dean. "I need your help."

"He's… Cas, he's…God, he's..."

"He's not going to live if you don't give me a hand right now!" Gabriel commanded, the breeze coincidentally becoming heavy. His eyes were angry, tinged with gold.

Dean nodded, staring in horror at his friend.

The archangel, held the left side of Castiel's still body, and he gestured for Dean to take the right. "On three."

"Three…"

Castiel closed his eyes. He bit into the stick and it dented under his teeth.

"Two…"

He tried not to move. Tried not to feel.

"One!"

They pulled Castiel away from the offending branch, and the angel couldn't help as he cried out, slumping into the dirt a foot away. His breathing was ragged and weak.

Gabriel tenderly examined Castiel's back, staring at the invisible mess of feathers with a pained, sympathetic expression. "Ouch, Cassie." He rolled him onto his back, crouching and placing his hand on top of the wound. As golden light flooded the area, Gabriel staggered, throwing out a hand to catch himself from getting a face-full of dirt.

Dean reached out, steadying Gabriel.

"Thanks Dean-o," the archangel gasped, and then passed out. The hunter caught him, rolled him onto his back beside Castiel.

Dean, paranoid as ever, checked Castiel's injury, and was very relieved to find just a shallow wound and some bruising. Cas's chest was moving with strong breaths. The angel would be in a lot of pain for a while, but ultimately he'd be okay. Assuming they ever got out of here.

He paused, allowing himself to take a much needed breath. Castiel was alive.

"What am I going to do with you two?" He then looked to his right, where Sam was sprawled in a crater. "Three," he corrected.

Dean took a seat on a nearby log, then realized his hands were shaking. He made the mistake of looking left, where blood coated the branch, and he felt sick. He'd seen a lot of terrible things, but that might have taken the cake. Cas, that nerdy dorky little guy, should not have been strung up like that. Dean just couldn't erase the image from his mind.

He didn't know how long he sat there in shock, but eventually Gabriel stirred and sat up, groaning. The archangel spared a glance to stunned Dean, and then he stood up. "You okay there, Dean-o? Hey, your boyfriend's gonna be fine. Seriously."

"He's not my—"

"Sure, he isn't. Could have fooled me." Dean continued to protest, but the archangel ignored him. Gabriel shook his head in disbelief, then made it over to Sam, who was still out cold. He loomed over him, lightly kicking his arm. "Wakey wakey, Sammich. You missed the party."

Sam finally stirred. "What—?" Then he gasped and jolted up, wincing. "Where..?"

"Middle of nowhere," Dean told him.

"Disneyland without the Disney," Gabriel added.

Sam blinked, processing what they were telling him. He asked, "You can just zap us out of here, right? I mean, you're an archangel."

It didn't fool anyone when Gabriel shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, no can do, kiddo. Would have done it already if I could. My wings are fried from the sigil. Also keep in mind that we kept you guys from roasting in that fall. I mean, my wings are in rough shape, but Castiel's are even nastier." Gabriel glanced to Castiel, and then said in a lower tone, turning to Dean, "You're lucky he's loyal, Dean-machine, because those things look like they went through a meat grinder."��

"So how long will it take you two to heal up?"

Gabriel was dreading this question. He sort of wished he could just ignore it, but he knew they wouldn't let it go. Stubborn bastards. "Me? Maybe a few weeks. Him? I don't know. He may set back plans by a few months." To be honest, the archangel didn't even want to acknowledge it. Who wanted to sit around in a stinky forest for that long?

Dean's face reflected Gabriel's internal feelings and conflictions. "A few months?!" 

Gabriel glared. "Hush up. It ain't all bad, I still have some mojo, yeah?" He attempts to snap a lollipop from midair, but winces when a paralyzing pain stops him, like his grace is shredding, and he staggers, blinking away the grey in his vision. "Holy—okay, maybe not. We might need to stick to hunting, boys. Literally."

The archangel lists to the side, and Dean manages to catch him again.

"Dude, sit down or something," Dean said gruffly, then guided the archangel to a clear patch of ground.

"Glad I have you holding my hand, Dean-bean," Gabriel said halfheartedly.

The hunter scoffed. "Sam, you babysit. I'm gonna quick check out the area."

"It's almost sunset," Sam reminded him. "We're probably on the other side of the world for all we know. It's not noon anymore, Dean."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I said 'quick'." And then Dean left Sam alone with the mouthy archangel. Great.

"You okay there, Samantha? Think you might be growing a worry wart." Gabriel grinned.

"Bite me."

"Maybe later."

Sam rolled his eyes. He sat himself down on a nearby log, then noticed the drying blood a foot away. Alarmed, he asked, "What happened?"

"Hot wings over here got himself impaled."

"What?!"

"Relax. I healed him. Nearly drained me, but he'll live." Gabriel paused. "He's almost human, right?"

Sam let himself relax a bit, but his stomach twisted. He felt a little sick looking at Cas. "Yeah."

Gabriel whistled. "When he fell, he fell hard, huh?"

"Yeah." Sam looked up, expecting to see an expression of sarcasm and indifference, but the archangel was looking at Cas sadly.

"Poor kid," he said. "I hope you know what he went through to side with you knuckleheads." But then Gabriel looked up and saw Sam's face. He closed his eyes in complete exasperation. "He didn't tell you."

"What do you mean?" Sam's eyebrows went down in concern. "Tell us what?"

"What heaven did to him. Of course he wouldn't tell you. That idiot—you can't see it, so of course he wouldn't bring it up."

"What? What'd they do?"

"Just like hell, there are parts of heaven that don't obey time. What you thought was a couple days… well, they tore him up for years. They brainwashed him with simulations worse than torture. You're lucky he's so strong. Most aren't." Gabriel curled his lip in disgust at the thought. "Most are so broken they become mindless soldiers."

"Like Anna?"

"Yeah, like Anna." Gabriel said. "Heaven is corrupt, and Castiel got the brunt of it because he was the brave one." He let out a breathy laugh, "I'm supposed to be the Archangel of Justice. Funny, how he was the brave one and I was the coward."

Gabriel laughed, but it wasn't funny.

///

Dean was a bit disoriented by the setting sun. Like, he knew and understood why it was setting, but his brain just didn't like it. Dean wanted to blame it on time, but he knew it wasn't about that.

It reminded him of Purgatory.

The long shadows, the neverending trees. Dean could feel an old, locked part of him starting to creep out. Predatory and feral. Scary.

Dean gripped his gun tight, hoping that Sam was making a fire and setting camp. He didn't know what he planned to do, but he had needed to get out of there. If only for a while.

Dean lucked out big time. The sound of the gunshot reverberated off of the surrounding trees and had nearby birds fleeing their nests. He scored a big, stupid turkey, who didn't seem too threatened by Dean's presence. In its own way, that wasn't a good sign. That meant there weren't people nearby to hunt these animals. Or many predators, for that matter.

The hunter was proud to drag a turkey back to base camp, though.

He was also happy to see that Sam had built a fire. The wind was calm and it made feeding the flames easy. Sam's three layers had now become two; his jacket was draped over Cas's still form.

Dean held the turkey up by its neck, flashing a smug smile at Sam, who watched Dean, unamused.

"Wow, fancy," Gabriel muttered. "Guess we got some Dean-cuisine, huh?"

"Shut up," Dean said cooly.

Gabriel was reluctantly drifting to sleep, curled up against a log, which wasn't a very good sign at all. "Just need a big recharge. I should be a bit better by morning. So should Cassie," the archangel assured them.

The Winchesters watched over as the angels slept, and the irony was not lost on them.

"Aw, aren't they just angels," Dean said.

Sam sighed, warming his hands over the well-made fire. "So is this it? We just wait until their mojo is back?"

It was Dean's turn to sigh. "Seems like."

///

Not even an hour later, they were interrupted by the rumble of a jeep off in the distance. Both Winchesters were awake and shared glances.

Soon, a man—a park ranger—was visible through the trees and eyed their camp. He then saw the dead turkey. "This is the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. You can't hunt here."

Sam's eyes widened. "We didn't know. I mean—we'd like to leave. We're lost."

"You didn't know?" The ranger was disbelieving.

Dean clapped his hands together. "Don't know how we got here, actually. We just woke up. We just want to leave, man." It was mostly true.

"Our friends are hurt. Could you help us?" Sam added.

The ranger made him way over the Cas, who was still completely out of it. Dean came over and lifted the angel's shirt to reveal the wound. For Cas, this was nothing, but for any normal person this would look serious.

The ranger's eyes furrowed. "My car is parked not far from here. Can you help me carry him?" He then looked to Gabriel. "He okay?"

"Uh, yeah, he's just a hard sleeper," Sam assured him.

Dean offered, "Here, I'll wake 'im up." He walked over to the archangel while Sam and the ranger helped move Cas. Dean prodded and poked Gabriel's shoulder. "Up and at 'im sunshine, we're gettin' outta here."

Gabriel woke with a start and scowled. "So much for beauty sleep." He took Dean's offered hand up.

"You can get your eight hours in an actual bed, how about that?" Dean said snarkily. "Now get a move on. The ranger's car is that'a way."

"Ranger?"

"We're in a National Park."

"You certainly are," the ranger answered, apparently having been listening for a while. "Your friends are in the car. If you don't mind, I'd like my own beauty sleep as well."

They complied.

Once they were settled in the car, with Gabriel in the front, Castiel's head rested on Sam's shoulder, and Dean on his other side, the park ranger sighed, looking at them through the rearview. He offered a tired smile to Dean. "So you really don't know how you got here, huh?" The man's crooked teeth gave him a slight lisp.

"Nope," Dean replied sincerely. He looked to Sammy, who was out like a light. "Look, we're sorry for hunting here. Really. To be honest, we thought we were in the boonies."

"Well, I suppose I'd rather you go off hunting in the park than the other alternative."

Dean shifted, now wary. "Why?" Dread filled his veins. That was the kind of vague thing that a monster , demon, or Anything That Wants to Kill Sam and Dean™ said before they lunged out.

But the ranger didn't attack, and Dean relaxed some. "Well, this has been going on for a couple of weeks. We've been finding people out in the middle of the park like you bunch every night"

"And they don't know how they got there, either?"

The man's lips thinned. "They're dead when we find them. Mountain lions, we figure."

Dean straightened. "You figure?"

"Yeah, well, I mean, they look like animal attacks. Big predator. But it's just strange. Mountain lions don't often come around these parts, much less attack people. They're solitary animals. Plus, there were these… fang marks on all the victims."

"Fang marks?"

"Nothing like I've ever seen. Drained each victim of all their blood. One of my coworkers swore up and down he's seen a vampire the other night. But that's crazy talk, right?" The ranger exhaled. "I just don't know how these people are all getting into the park."

"You find out who they were?"

"We've matched some people. I just don't know. I mean, one man went missing in Florida and two days later he just shows up dead in North Dakota? We matched a couple from Michigan, too. Sam deal. Where were you last?"

Dean but his lip. "Massachusetts."

"Christ."

The hunter in Dean was suspicious. This sounded like their kind of gig. Did they really just stumble onto a case? Ah, what the heck. I'll just ask him. "You know of any nearby hotels by chance?"

The tanger looked surprised. "You're planning on staying?"

"Well, I mean, we get planted in a National Park, might as well go sightseeing." Dean offered an innocent smile.

"You don't have family to go back to?"

"Nah. Just us. We like to roadtrip anyway."

The ranger nodded. "You sure everyone's in shape to be sightseeing?"

That was true; Castiel was not in any condition to be running around hunting monsters. "All the more reason to stay. I don't want to move him around anytime soon."

The ranger didn't look so convinced, but he didn't say anything.

///

Sam woke up in a hotel bed. 

"You finally up, Sleeping Beauty?" Dean's voice sounded from across the room.

Sam wiped at his face, blinking until his vision was clear and he could make out Dean sitting at a table…

Researching.

"What's going on?" he asked. Because if Dean was researching, there was something wrong.

"What, I can't just read a book?"

Sam sent him a disbelieving look.

"Fine. Ranger said they've been finding more than just us. Except the people he found were all dead before they reached 'em." He closed the book, frustrated with it. "Animals attacks, he said."

"Since when were animal attacks our gig? You know this is a National Park, right Dean?"

"But this thing isn't hunting animals, Sam. It's hunting people," Dean said. 

"Probably just mountain lions upping their game, Dean. Civvies aren't that difficult to kill."

"That turkey that I got? It was fearless. Like it'd seen a predator in its life. I'm just sayin'. We've looked into less."

Sam nodded. "I guess you're right."

"'Parently people are disappearing from all over the place. I've been looking into it, Sam. They're coming from all over. Not even just the states. They found two guys from Europe."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed as he thought. "That does sound like our kind of gig."

"Yeah. That's what I've been trying to tell you," Dean snapped.

"So that forbidden sigil that the demons were using… they're using it everywhere?" Sam got out of the bed, walking over to see the research Dean had been doing. "What does the sigil actually do?"

"No idea. That's why I'm researching, Sam," Dean said. "But whatever it was, it must be bad. What kind of sigil sends angels and humans away?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know."

"I know." Both Winchesters turned to look at Gabriel, who was sitting up in the hotel bed, stretching. "Man, this thing is just not comfortable. You two deal with this all the time?" He snapped, upgrading the bed to something better. "There."

"Thought you didn't have your mojo?"

"Let's just say that power nap kick-started some things." The archangel stood, walking over to the book. We waved his hand casually, letting the pages fly and flap until he thrust his hand forward, stopping the book. "It's a sigil of condemnation. It repels all the followers of God." He looked up at the boys. "It's not perfect. It just repels anything that isn't demonic, and send them here."

"Why?"

"Why does anything do anything? Sigils are just writing. Someone designed it for this purpose. Why? Beats me." Gabriel shrugged. "Whoever made this wanted anything that wasn't a demon to be transported onto this particular land. I'm sure it was just designed for humans, but it managed to send us away too. Probably because we're not demons. I know, it's a shocker."

Dean thought about that. "Cas recognized it too."

"As I said, it's just writing. Whoever designed this thing knew Enochian. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did recognize it. That kid's always getting into trouble."

Dean looked to the bed, scowling, but not actually angry. "Damn it, Cas. Wake up already. We need your help."

"Really pour your heart into it, Dean-o. Maybe he'll even wake up," Gabriel said. His sarcasm was palpable.

"Shut up, why don't you."

"Make me."

Sam had had enough of this. "Grow up, both of you. Let's just work on the case, okay?" He snatched his laptop and sat himself on a bed, brooding.

Dean raised his eyebrow at his brother. "Well someone's cranky." He sighed, tapping the book as silence encompassed the room. After several minutes of awkward tension, where Gabriel played with the tips of pages, making them dog-eared while Sam put his full attention on his screen. Finally, he cracked. "Hey, Sammy."

"What?"

"What if it's the chupacabra?" Dean joked, a stupid smile on his face, vainly trying to lighten the mood.

Sam shook his head and brought his eyes back to his computer.

Dean's grin faded. This was going to be a long day.

///

"I... think I found something," Sam finally said after two hours.

Dean was grateful. He felt like his head was going to explode if he read anymore. "What is it?"

Sam sighed, visibly hesitating. "You were right, Dean. I don't know how, but you were."

Dean looked excited. "I was right?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause.

"Right about what?"

Gabriel snorted.

Sam rolled his eyes. "The chupacabra."

"Oh." Dean looked almost baffled. "That was just a joke, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Sam snapped. "But apparently they've been associated with demons. Even mentioned as demons themselves sometimes." 

Dean had not seen this coming. He had not expected to be right, of all things. "And it's camping out in a National Park why?"

"Honestly? That's probably the best place they could hide. People can't bring in guns, so they're left defenseless."

Gabriel hummed. "The demons are sending people to it, then. Feeding it."

"Wait wait wait. But I thought they only attacked livestock," Dean said.

"Well, it sounds like they just go after the largest prey they can find. In the lore, it was livestock because that's what was out and vulnerable at night, when the chupacabra would strike." Sam shrugged. "Sounds like they would go after farmers too."

"Humans can't be the biggest animal in that park. What about the mountain lions?"

"Prey, Dean. It goes after prey."

"But humans aren't prey. I mean, hell, we're at the top of the food chain!'

"Without tools and weapons? We're prey."

Dean scowled, but after a moment he realized something. "That's why we weren't attacked last night. We had guns, Sammy. Weapons. Last night, we weren't prey." He thought back to the turkey. "We were predators, and it knew that."

"Well, that explains some things." Gabriel looked almost impressed by Dean's deductive skills.

Dean frowned. "How do we kill it?"

"Well, it sounds like people used to stab them with pitchforks when they were found on their farms. So I'd say iron is our best bet… which would make sense if they're a demonic monster."

"Right. Okay. We know why the demons are all buddy buddy with them, then? There's got to be a reason they're feeding it. Demons don't do stuff like this for nothing."

"Dean's right. I mean, he would know," the archangel said bluntly.

Dean glared. The nerve of this guy…

Sam cleared his throat, trying to pull Dean's attention away from the source of his irritation. "Maybe? It says that… well, crap."

"What?" Both Dean and Gabriel asked.

Sam's face had frozen, staring at the letters on his screen. "Well, you know some people thought they were demons? Turns out it could also be said that they could be a type of wild hellhound."

 "Well, crap." Dean echoed. "So, what, the demons lose their pet and now they're trying to lure it back with treats?"

Sam pitched a reluctant sigh. "We should probably ask Crowley."

"Crowley?! After that demon army launched us five states away? No. Nuh uh. Have a Plan B? I mean, we do have an archangel on our hands."

"I'm right here, you know," came a protest from behind them.

"Seriously, Dean. Think about it. We know how to call the actual King of Hell and ask him what's going on, and we're not going to take it?"

"Great to know I'm appreciated." There was a huff.

"Sam, what about a demon army do you not understand? I don't think anyone particularly wants to be launched out of the sky again!"

"What other choice do we have?! We can't speak with the victim's families because they're on the other side of the country, and we can't pose as law enforcement because the ranger would call us out!"

Dean looked light he was going to argue, but then he huffed. "Fine. We call Crowley."

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien/Lukadrienette Drabble: Nachtmusik Chapter Ten

A Little Night Music (Eine Kleine Nachtmusik) Chapter Ten: The ACDC Residence

Adrien was ready to pass out.

…After he scrubbed the rest of the stage makeup off.

Luka and Marinette would fuss if he got the stuff on the sheets (on them and their clothes and the pillows) again, so first he’d take a shower, and then he would crawl into bed between his husband and his wife, and Adrien would pass out.

He opened the front door of their house in the sixteenth arrondissement as quietly as possible, gently pushing it open as he debated whether or not he wanted to risk waking Hugo and Emma by sneaking into their rooms to check on them and give them kisses. Hugo was such a light sleeper, and Emma had been sick when Adrien left that morning. If he woke Hugo up, Hugo would want to cuddle. Ditto with Emma, and he was sure they were both in need of the rest.

Adrien slowly pulled the door closed behind him, only letting go of the knob when the door was flush to avoid making noise.

He needn’t have bothered.

Once inside, he heard the soft and steady sounds of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude emanating from the front room off to the left of the foyer. The piece was just getting to the deep, rumbly thunder part low in the register that made Adrien shiver in pleasure.

It had to be Luka playing, as Hugo’s little hands couldn’t span an octave yet.

Sure enough, when Adrien peeked around the corner, he found his husband at the piano, their two-year-old daughter in her sling, her head resting above Luka’s heart.

“Hey, Orpheus,” he called softly as he made his way over to his family.

Luka looked up, eyes filled with exhaustion, but when they met Adrien’s, they lit up with renewed energy. “Hey, Perfect Fifth. Welcome home.”

In one fluid motion, Adrien sat on the bench beside Luka and leaned in for a kiss. He could feel Luka smiling into it even as Luka’s fingers still found the right notes on the keyboard.

“Why Chopin?” Adrien chuckled against Luka’s lips before gently nipping and pulling back slightly. “Isn’t that kind of my thing? Why not Ravel?” He carefully reached down and tucked a loose strand of thick, obsidian hair behind Emma’s ear.

Luka’s smile turned pained. “Because Chopin is your thing.” He tipped his chin down at Emma sleeping fitfully, eyes cracking open only to slip closed once more.

“She’s been calling for you all day, Adrien-bocchama,” Nooroo informed, fidgeting nervously as he came to settle in his customary spot on Adrien’s right shoulder.

Adrien gave the butterfly kwami an affectionate scritch under the chin.

“I got her to settle for ‘Daddy’s music’ until you got home,” Luka explained with a weary sigh.

Adrien gave Luka’s ear a nibble. “How’s Hugo?”

Luka took a deep, tired breath. “…Hugo should be back to sleep by now, but he’s already been down here twice fussing over Emmie and asking why Chopin’s always crying in his songs. He said it sounds like ‘Chopin lost something he loved a whole lot’, so we had to talk about how Chopin was sick and lonely and heartbroken. The whole time I was thinking, ‘What four-year-old talks and thinks like this?’”

Adrien rested his chin on Luka’s shoulder as he hummed, “I bet you did.”

Luka rolled his eyes fondly at his husband. “Not even I was that spooky-perceptive that young. I may be considerably empathic, but Hugo looks at you with those big, blue eyes, and he sees into your soul.”

“He would be a good Butterfly Miraculous user,” Nooroo noted, nodding in satisfaction. “I feel a deep affinity with him.”

Luka winced. “Please keep the arcane magic away from our four-year-old. He’s enough of a handful as it is without the ability to create an army. I don’t want him turning out like his grandfath—er…uh…” He turned his head to smile apologetically at Adrien. “Sorry. No offence.”

Adrien shrugged, sitting up straight. “My father has the capacity to be both a very good and a very bad man. I’m proud of him for choosing to fight his inner demons, and I’m grateful that he’s winning. I love my father, but I’m about as eager as you are for our son to take after him. At least Hugo has genetics on his side.”

Luka winced again. “So if he turns out like Gabriel, it’s nurture. If he turns out like my father, it’s nature, and that’s on me and my inferior genes. Thank you, Angel.”

“Any time,” Adrien snickered, giving his husband’s cheek a lick.

Luka tried not to laugh as he ended the Chopin piece on a satisfying closed cadence. “Come here,” he whispered, voice husky and completely enamored as he cupped Adrien’s face, running his thumb tenderly over Adrien’s cheek as he took Adrien’s lips in a deep, unhurried kiss.

The music lapsed, and, with a muted whine, Emma starting to blink sleepily into wakefulness, startling her parents apart with her quiet yet pained cries.

In a flash, Plagg flew out of Adrien’s left shoulder and down to check on his grandkitten. “Hey, Minette,” he purred, rubbing against her cheek.

“Blague,” Emma burbled as Plagg phased through her and came out the other side.

“She’s still hot,” Plagg observed. “I’m intimately familiar with what the internal temperature of a human being is supposed to feel like, and she’s too hot.”

“Her fever hasn’t broken yet?” Adrien gasped, suddenly going cold. He looked to Luka in wide-eyed panic. “Marinette said she was doing better when I called between shows.”

“She is, but she’s still running a temperature. It’s not super high, but…it doesn’t seem to be breaking, so I’m starting to get a little worried. I was waiting for you to get home to decide whether we should take her to the hospital.”

Adrien shook his head. “I’ll ring up one of the doctors Dad has on call and have them come. It’ll be easier than trying to take her out in the cold.”

Luka nodded slowly. “I always forget that we’re rich and can do things like that. I don’t know how I feel about relying on your father, though.”

Adrien waved away Luka’s reservations, already dialing the doctor on call and getting up to pace. “Dad knows she’s sick. When he calls me tomorrow morning, he’s going to ask how she is, and if she’s not better and I haven’t called one of his doctors, he’s going to freak.”

Luka put up his hands in surrender, familiar with how fanatically Gabriel Agreste doted on Hugo and Emma.

“Papá, piano,” Emma whimpered, reclaiming Luka’s attention.

Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, so he gently wiped them away before obliging her entreaty.

Luka pressed down on the mute pedal as he began Chopin’s Spring Waltz so that Emma could still hear the song but the playing wouldn’t disrupt Adrien’s phone call.

“Thirty to forty minutes depending on traffic, he said,” Adrien reported a minute later, coming back to sit on the bench beside his husband.

Luka smiled wryly. “Seeing as it’s just past one in the morning, I don’t imagine traffic will significantly impact arrival time.”

“Daddy!” Emma called, beginning to struggle. “Papá, down,” she pleaded. “Daddy!”

“Just a sec, Minuet.” Luka stopped playing to loose their daughter from the sling.

“Hey, Angel-Baby,” Adrien cooed, taking the carrier and child from Luka and fitting her to his own body so that she rested snug against his chest. “You not feeling so good?”

Emma made a little grumble, large green eyes staring up distractedly into his own.

Adrien dropped a gentle kiss to his daughter’s forehead and nuzzled her hair, wrapping his arms around her and patting her back. “Hang in there, My Sweet One.”

All the while, Luka looked on with a besotted grin.

Adrien glanced up, caught his husband staring, and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. “What?”

Luka shook his head, reaching out to run a hand through Adrien’s hair. “You’re so incredibly beautiful; I can’t believe you’re real.”

Adrien laughed in delight, catching himself by surprise. A delicate rose blush spread like spilled ink across his cheeks. “You’ve been married to me for how long?”

“Four years, eleven months exactly now that we’re past midnight,” Luka decreed, immeasurably pleased with himself. “And I thank the powers that be for every hour.”

Adrien gave Luka a warm, soft look. “You and me both.”

Luka leaned in to nuzzle Adrien’s ear. “You holding our daughter ties for second place as my all-time favourite sight.”

“What’s first place?” Adrien wondered.

Luka didn’t even have to think about it. “You and Marinette holding both of our children. No contest.”

“You’re so sappy,” Adrien purred. “I love it. You turn my insides to mush…. You know, when Marinette finally kicks this stomach bug, we should seriously discuss making more babies.”

Luka hummed in amusement, running his hand down Adrien’s neck and back up to rub behind his ear. “You’re already ready for another one?”

“It’s been two years,” Adrien whined, nuzzling Emma’s hair. “…Speaking of our lovely wife, how was Marinette today? Like I said, I called her between shows to check on her and Emmie, but she was really evasive.”

“I’m beginning to think she’s not really sick,” Luka confessed.

Adrien gave him an odd look. “She’s been throwing up for a week. How is she not sick?”

An impish smile unfurled on Luka’s lips, and an excited glint came into his eyes. “You’re out of tofu.”

Adrien frowned, even more confused. “I had half a block left after I made my tofu scramble this morning. How am I out of tofu? No one else eats it.”

“After Marinette finished throwing up this afternoon, she announced that she had the strangest craving for tofu and rose jam.”

Adrien’s eye flew wide. “You think we’re pregnant,” he gasped.

Luka shrugged. “Only Marinette would know for sure, but…I am seeing similarities between this and the other pregnancies.”

Adrien had to restrain himself from tackling Luka or leaping for joy so that he wouldn’t jostle Emma. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed, leaning in and resting his forehead and nose against Luka’s shoulder.

“Please don’t get too excited yet, P5,” Luka begged, beginning to regret telling Adrien. “Please don’t get your hopes up too much until it’s confirmed and the doctor says we’re out of the woods. I don’t want you hurt, and you know how torn up you were after…” Luka bit his lip.

Adrien nodded. “…the miscarriage,” he completed in a whisper, nuzzling Luka’s arm and holding Emma closer. “I know. I’ll calm down,” he promised. “But…a baby,” he giggled. “Even the possibility of a baby is just so…” He looked up and shook his head, grinning. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Luka whispered against Adrien’s lips, taking a long pull from them.

“You should head to bed,” Adrien suggested as they pulled away. “I’ll sit up with Emmie; you’ve had her all day while I was gone and Marinette was sick.”

Luka shook his head. “Adrien, didn’t you have a matinée on top of an evening performance? You must be exhausted.”

Adrien shrugged, downplaying his fatigue. “My understudy is filling in tomorrow; I have the day off, so I can sleep then. You, on the other hand, need to go to bed. Don’t you have some kind of concert tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night,” Luka countered. “I can sleep all day tomorrow once our daughter is doing better.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the stubbornness of his spouse. Figuring it wouldn’t do much good to argue, Adrien shrugged. “You know best.”

“Finally he admits it,” Luka snorted, but his smile was all fondness and teasing.

“So…I’m horrible, but remind me of what kind of concert exactly you have tomorrow?” Adrien asked sheepishly. “Are you a rock star or a piano soloist or in with the first violins? You’re too talented. I can’t keep up.”

Luka shrugged and wrapped an arm around Adrien, thumb rhythmically stroking the top of Adrien’s shoulder as Luka tipped his head to rest against his husband’s. “I’m performing with the symphony tomorrow—just one violinist among thirty—so it won’t be as bad if I’m a little tired. The band has shows on Thursday and Friday. Next Saturday and Sunday I’m soloist for Beethoven’s Third Piano Concerto. Don’t worry about not being able to keep it straight…. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I can’t remember what show you’re in right now. Are you…Raoul in Phantom of the Opera?”

Adrien chuckled, shaking his head as he smoothed Emma’s hair. “That’s next month; we’re in rehearsals, so that’s what you’re thinking of. Right now, I’ve got one more week left of playing Gabriel in Next to Normal.”

Luka nodded, licking his bottom lip. “That’s right…. Isn’t that…a challenging role for you? Maybe a little taxing emotionally?” he carefully inquired. “I remember being a bit nervous when you were telling me about the part.”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “…Yeah. Yeah, it is a difficult, draining role. I’m glad it was only for a month. I mean…I play the manifestation of the main character’s dead son and spend the whole musical feeding my ‘mother’’s mental illness, at one point encouraging her to join me in death, and constantly taunting my insecure ‘sister’ and being denied and dismissed by my ‘father’. It’s tough to be in that headspace, but…in the end, each of the characters reaches a sort of closure, and when my ‘father’ finally looks at me and acknowledges me…when he looks at me and says, ‘Gabe…. Gabriel?’, and I smile and say, ‘Hi, Dad’…it’s a good feeling. The whole show I feel like I’m working up to that scene, and that scene makes the rest of it okay.”

Adrien turned his head so that they were face to face and smiled self-consciously. “Does that make any kind of sense? It’s okay if it doesn’t.”

Luka considered for a minute and then nodded. “In a way, yes. I have songs that I wrote about painful things. It stings and throbs and itches when I play them, but when I hit that final note…there’s resolution there. It’s cathartic. Now, I don’t know if I could make it through a two-hour musical experience like that, but…I kind of get what you’re saying.”

Adrien hummed, satisfied. “…It’s different now than it was a decade ago. I wouldn’t have been able to play Gabriel when I was eighteen. Now, it’s okay because the wounds have scabbed over a bit. My relationship with my dad is…I mean, we have a relationship. It’s not perfect, but it’s good. It’s strong. He’s hurt me, and there are things that are difficult to forgive him for that still kind of hang between us, but I’m mostly at peace with my dad. And I finally have closure about my mom.”

Luka tightened his hold on Adrien.

“Just knowing that she’s dead and that she didn’t abandon me…that’s a huge weight off. There’s still a lot of pain there, but it’s better than the decade I spent thinking not even my mother loved me.” Adrien smiled sadly at his husband. “It’s also different because I have my own family now. You and Marinette…with you two beside me, I don’t have to be afraid of anything. I know you two will always catch me if I fall. We had a bit of a bumpy start, but we fell into place, and now we’re unshakeable. And our kids…”

Adrien looked down at Emma, and his heart swelled. “This is pure, untainted, uncomplicated love. Having kids of my own with the two people I love most in the universe has given me all kinds of closure and a new perspective on my relationships with my own parents. I couldn’t have played Gabriel ten years ago, but now…with my family, our home…it’s a healing experience more than reopening old wounds.”

“Yeah,” Luka whispered, kissing the side of Adrien’s head. “Yeah. I know what you mean. These past five years…our marriage, our children…even though there have been dark times, these past five years have done a lot to heal the wounds inside of me.”

“Blague?” Emma called as she came into wakefulness once more.

Plagg was hovering at her side in a heartbeat. “Yes, Minette?”

“Purr?” she entreated, turning her big, peridot baby eyes on him.

Plagg nestled up against Emma on Adrien’s chest and started a gentle, comforting purr.

“Plagg, you’re so whipped,” Adrien snickered.

Plagg gave a little snort but kept purring. “It’s been a long time since one of my kittens had kittens. This is special, Kid. Precious.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed contentedly, raising a finger to scratch between Plagg’s ears.

“Daddy?” Emma called, eyes glassy with fever.

Adrien’s ears perked up. “Yeah, Angel-Baby? What is it?”

“Piano?” she mewed interrogatively.

“Looks like she’s tired of hearing me play,” Luka chuckled, giving Adrien’s arm a pat before scooting over on the bench to give Adrien better access to the instrument.

“You have been playing for several hours,” Nooroo reasoned, poking his head out of Adrien’s right shoulder to gaze down at Plagg and Emma. “Poor baby.”

“What do you want to hear Daddy play, Emmie?” Adrien inquired as he warmed up with some scales.

“Papá song,” she answered sleepily.

Adrien and Luka looked at each other, raising eyebrows in tandem.

“Ravel?” Adrien guessed.

Emma made a little hum of assent. “Woof,” she specified.

Luka and Adrien traded glances.

“I believe she means barque,” Nooroo translated.

Adrien and Luka nodded, sharing an, “Ooooh” of elucidation.

“Miroirs Three: Une Barque sur l’Ocean,” Adrien announced and began to play a series of shimmering, rolling notes: sails billowing in the soft breeze, seagulls calling in the distance, waves gently lapping at the side of the boat, the sun shining down in a bright, even shower of tangible warmth.

Emma’s eyes slipped closed two minutes in, and she quickly fell back to sleep.

Adrien kept playing with a soft smile.

Luka was content just to watch and treasure the moment.

“You know,” Adrien chuckled quietly. “I was talking to the people in charge of marketing and programs for the production of Phantom of the Opera I’m going to be in, and I managed to convince them of the efficacy of crediting me as ‘Adrien ACDC’.”

Luka cracked up. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Adrien snickered. “Didn’t I tell you I would? They were a little reluctant to lose the ‘Agreste’ because of name recognition, but I reasoned with them that it was a ridiculous amount of space on the line, not to mention the ink, to print ‘Adrien Agreste-Couffaine-Dupain-Cheng’. They suggested just going by my maiden name, so I told them that those three other names were a hard-won battle that I shed blood, sweat, and tears for and that I wasn’t giving them up without a full-scale war…. So ‘Adrien ACDC’ it is.”

“That’s too wonderful,” Luka laughed, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound so as not to wake Emma. “I might need to talk to my agent about crediting me as ‘Luka ACDC’ going forward. That’s too wonderful.”

“Aren’t you glad I thought of it?” Adrien preened.

Luka nodded appreciatively. “It’ll make signing autographs a lot easier.”

Just then, a trampling of feet came pounding down the stairs, long nails clicking on the wood floors.

Adrien made a mental note to schedule a grooming appointment to have those nails trimmed. The children often roughhoused with Mélodie and were liable to get scratched.

One hundred pounds of pony-sized Anatolian Shepherd lumbered into the front room, a sleepy-eyed Hugo loosely hanging onto her creamy tan coat.

“Papá?” Hugo yawned. “Daddy?”

“Hey, Buddy. Up again?” Luka got to his feet and scooped Hugo into his arms, bringing their four-year-old to sit on the bench with them.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Hugo explained, resting his head on Luka’s shoulder.

“Hey, Sweet Prince,” Adrien greeted, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead and nuzzle his thick black hair.

This resulted in Adrien fumbling a few notes and Emma stirring once more with a little whimper.

“Sorry, Angel-Baby,” Adrien whispered.

“How’s Emmie?” Hugo leaned in to look down at his sister, sapphire eyes wide with worry.

“Gogo,” Emma whined, and Hugo reached out to stroke her hair.

Nooroo flew over to nestle in his favourite spot on top of Hugo’s head.

Mélodie sat at Adrien’s feet, resting her head on the piano bench and nosing Adrien’s thigh for attention.

“Hey, Baby Girl,” Adrien cooed.

Mélodie gave a tired thump of her tail. She would be ten years old in December, and she was beginning to slow down. She adored her little siblings, but Hugo and Emma wore Mélodie out.

“Emmie’s in pain,” Hugo observed, beginning to tear up himself.

“She’s going to be just fine, Young Master Hugo,” Nooroo assured, petting Hugo’s hair.

“Yeah. No need for tears, Minou.” Plagg flew up to wipe Hugo’s eyes before returning to his post cuddled up with Emma.

“We called one of your grandfather’s doctors, and he’ll be here soon to take care of her,” Luka added with a big, encouraging smile.

Hugo looked deep into Luka’s eyes and frowned. “You’re worried, Papá.”

Luka grimaced. “But that’s no reason for you to be. This is a grownup worry thing, not a Hugo worry thing. …Why don’t you play something for your sister? Emmie, would you like to hear Hugo play?”

“Mmm. Gogo,” Emma agreed.

Hugo pursed his lips, staring Luka down for a minute before relenting. He turned himself on Luka’s lap and slowly worked through Adrien’s usual set of ‘bare-minimum-warmup’ scales. He took a deep breath and carefully, slowly started to play Mozart’s Twelve Variations on “Ah, Vous Dirai-Je, Maman”.

“Twinkle, twinkle little bat,” Emma sang along, substituting in the lyrics from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland that Adrien had been reading the children as their bedtime story. (It was a dramatic reading complete with singing and dancing and character voices and sound effects. Sometimes Marinette and Luka would come stand in the hall to peek in and listen without disrupting the children’s one-on-one time with Adrien.)

Hugo’s hands were sometimes too small to hit all the notes, and his motor control wasn’t good enough to always play at tempo, but he did his best, and, although his best paled in comparison to his professional and hobbyist pianist fathers, he far outshone most other four-year-olds.

“That’s really awesome, Hugo,” Luka praised as Hugo finished playing the theme section with relative control and fluidity.

Hugo smiled up toothily at his fathers. “I can do more. It’s not that good—I can’t do it like it’s supposed to be—but I can do the first six variations.” He proceeded to play the first variation slowly and imperfectly, but his performance definitely showed promise.

Luka let out a low whistle. “You’ve got all that in your head?”

Hugo nodded, moving on to the second variation.

“Where did you learn this?” Adrien wondered, awed. “We don’t have the sheet music, do we? Was it in one of your beginning piano books?”

Hugo shook his head, concentrating hard on the notes. “Grandpa plays it with me. He says the songs in my books are too simple for me, so we play Mozart when I go over.”

Luka looked at Adrien quizzically.

Adrien put his hands up in surrender. “I did not know about this.”

“And you like playing Mozart with your grandfather?” Luka asked neutrally, testing the waters.

Hugo nodded, hitting the wrong key, frowning, and starting the measure over to fix the mistake. “It’s fun. We play other stuff too.” Hugo gave up on talking and playing at the same time and looked up at his fathers. “Grandpa likes Ravel like Papá, so sometimes we play Ravel. I like the fairytale pieces.”

Adrien nodded knowingly, his nose scrunching up. “He used to make me play those.”

Luka frowned. “You didn’t like them?”

Adrien’s grimace turned sheepish. “I didn’t like that he made me play them.”

Luka hummed in understanding.

“Is that why you didn’t love the piano until you met Papá?” Hugo inquired, big sapphire eyes boring into Adrien.

Adrien blushed, head tipping to the side. He adjusted his hold on Emma. “That’s part of it.”

Luka rested a hand on Adrien’s knee and squeezed.

Adrien placed his hand on top of Luka’s, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a quiet, unspoken declaration of love.

“Grandpa doesn’t make me play piano,” Hugo remarked thoughtfully. “I have to make him some days. Some days he has projects he has to work on, so I play on his tablet painting clothes until he can play piano with me.”

Luka and Adrien blinked down at their son.

“He lets you play with the tablet? He never let me play with the tablet,” Adrien pouted, giving Luka’s hand a squeeze. “Orpheus, I think my father loves my son more than me.”

Luka tried not to laugh too hard. “It’s okay, P5. Don’t get a complex. I love you.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Hugo chimed in.

“Mmmm,” agreed Emma.

Nuzzles and kisses were passed all around.

Then Hugo thought of something. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that I paint clothes. Don’t tell Grandpa I told. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Adrien and Luka’s brows furrowed at that.

“What kind of surprise?” Adrien pressed. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Grandpa you told.”

Hugo bit his lip. “…When I paint clothes, Grandpa tells me which ones are really good, and we save those ones to make into clothes patterns in real life like Maman does. Grandpa trusts money for the clothes that become real, and he said that when I’m older I can trade the trust to go to university or for a boat like Nanna’s Liberty or a bicycle or a whole lot of ice cream or the newest Zelda game or whatever I want.”

Adrien got the feeling that Hugo had verified this list with Gabriel, item by item.

“That’s…really generous of him,” Luka replied, a little stunned. “Very…thoughtful.”

“But Grandpa said it should be a surprise because it was too much like working and you wouldn’t like me working.” Hugo looked back and forth between his parents. “But I like painting clothes. I don’t have to stop, do I?”

“No,” Adrien assured, reaching out to stroke his son’s face. “You can keep painting clothes as long as you want. I think I owe your grandpa a thank you, though. That really is nice of him to do that for you.”

Suddenly distracted, Hugo looked down at Emma. “Emmie’s feeling better.”

Plagg quirked an ear curiously. He hadn’t felt any change in Emma’s status, pressed up against her as he was, but he experimentally phased through Emma anyway. “She is cooling down,” he confirmed. “Still a little hot, but definitely better.”

“Thank God,” Adrien breathed as Luka sighed in relief.

Hugo turned back to the piano and began to play the Snowdin Town theme from Undertale.

Luka snickered, leaning in to nip Adrien’s ear. “He’s your son all right.”

Adrien nipped back, getting Luka’s cheek. “He’s inherited my good taste in video games. You should be grateful. I mean, he’s biologically Marinette’s son. You dodged a bullet.”

“Papá, play the bottom hand,” Hugo instructed. “My hands are too little to do the chords one-handed.”

“On it,” Luka assured as Adrien held in a laugh. He teased Luka with his eyes instead.

Luka made faces back at Adrien as Hugo played contentedly and much more consistently than with the Mozart.

“We’re doing Scarlet Forest from Delatrune next,” Hugo announced, and Luka was happy to comply.

Emma hummed dreamily along.

When they’d finished, Hugo looked up and back and forth between his parents. “Now you two. Play Field of Hopes and Dreams from Deltarune. Daddy, you be on top. Papá, you take bottom.”

Luka clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

Adrien just grinned. “I mean…what else is new?”

Luka flicked Adrien’s cheek without malice. “You say that like we never switch.”

Adrien shrugged. “I just know your preferences.”

“Piano,” Emma whined, losing patience with her fathers.

Luka shook his head and counted them in, covering the bottom line with his left hand while Adrien took the top with his right. It was a little difficult with both children in the way, and sometimes their hands almost overlapped in the quick note turnover, but they managed and stayed more or less in sync.

As the last chord rang out and dissipated into the air, applause sounded from the entranceway.

Luka, Adrien, Hugo, and Nooroo turned as one to find Marinette watching them.

“Maman!” Hugo called out, hopping down from Luka’s lap to go to his mother.

Mélodie wisely moved her tail out of the way with a little whine of indignation.

“Mama!” Emma echoed, beginning to fidget.

“Just a sec and I’ll let you out, Love,” Adrien promised, standing and undoing the sling so that he could hand off the wiggling Emma to her mother.

Marinette tussled Hugo’s hair as he wrapped his arms around her legs. “What are you still doing up, Caterpillar?” she hummed, smiling down lovingly at her child.

“I was worried about Emmie, so I couldn’t sleep,” Hugo explained, squeezing Marinette’s knees to his chest. “Papá and Daddy and I were playing piano for her.”

“You’re such a good big brother,” Marinette chuckled before turning carefully to take Emma from Adrien. “And how’s my baby girl?” she cooed, nuzzling Emma and giving her a kiss.

“Better,” Luka supplied, coming up behind Adrien and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Adrien back against himself and giving Adrien’s neck a kiss. “She’s still feverish, but I think it’s going down. One of Gabriel’s doctors is on his way to get her checked out, though.”

“Probably for the best.” Marinette nodded, bouncing Emma gently and making soothing clicking sounds with her tongue.

“Do I get a welcome home kiss, or am I old news nowadays?” Adrien pouted, leaning back against Luka, placing his arms on top of his husband’s.

Tikki flew up and deposited a kiss on the tip of Adrien’s nose. “Welcome home, Adrien!”

Luka snickered into Adrien’s neck, the vibrations tickling.

Adrien laughed. “Thanks, Tikki. It’s good to be appreciated.”

Marinette smiled, but it was her ‘smug Ladybug’ smirk. “You’ve got one of the hottest guys in the country literally hanging off of you, and you want my attention too?”

“I’m greedy.” Adrien shrugged, turning his head to lick Luka’s cheek.

“You’re needy,” Marinette corrected, shifting Emma onto her hip so that she could have a hand free to pet Hugo’s hair, mindful of the kwami still perched there.

“You married me, Milady,” Adrien tossed back.

Marinette shook her head. “Not legally, Chaton. Legally, you’re Luka’s problem.”

“Be nice to my husband, Chanson,” Luka chuckled. “He’s perfect.”

“Isn’t he, though?” Marinette stepped in, careful of Hugo, to press her lips to Adrien’s. She pulled back so that their noses brushed. “Welcome home, Adrien.”

“Good to be home, Princess,” Adrien purred, perfectly content to be sandwiched between the two people he loved most with the children their love had made.

“…but I think you need to take your husband back up to bed,” Adrien added gently. “He’s got a concert tomorrow night, and you’re still sick, so you could both use the sleep. Only one of us needs to stay up with Emmie to wait for the doctor.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep,” Hugo pouted, sounding like a tiny Adrien replica. “I want to make sure Emmie’s okay.”

“She’s going to be fine, Buddy,” Luka assured, reluctantly letting go of Adrien to scoop up their son. “Why don’t I go tuck you in?”

Hugo gave Luka the ‘petulant Adrien frowny face’.

“Or not,” Luka conceded defeat. He’d never been much good up against the full-sized version of the ‘petulant Adrien frowny face’, and the miniature version wasn’t any easier an opponent.

“How about we all pile onto the couch and wait together?” Marinette suggested, leading the way with Emma.

Adrien, Luka carrying Hugo, the kwamis, and Mélodie all fell into step behind her. Marinette tucked her feet under herself as she sat on the near end of the couch with Emma reclining against her. Mélodie curled up on the floor in front of Marinette, and Tikki landed on Emma’s head. Plagg snuggled up next to Tikki, and Adrien curled up with Marinette. Luka threw an arm around Adrien as he sat on the far end of the sofa, hip to hip with Adrien and with Hugo on his lap, Nooroo on Hugo’s head. All together, they made a snug bunch.

“So,” Adrien hummed once they were all situated. “…Luka tells me that you ate my tofu, Buginette? Care to explain yourself?”

“Adrien,” Luka scolded. It wasn’t very effective, as he was smiling widely at the time.

Marinette blushed and returned her husbands’ grins. “I haven’t taken a test yet, but…it’s highly possible that our family might be getting bigger in the near future.”

Adrien could barely contain his squeal of glee as he leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on the side of Marinette’s head and then turned to do the same to Luka.

Hugo looked back and forth between his parents. “Are we finally getting a hamster?”

Marinette laughed like the starlight-like notes of the upper register of the piano. “No, Sweetie. Maybe someday…but I was talking about a baby.”

“Baby?” Hugo scrunched up his nose.

“Mmhm. How would you like a new little brother or sister?” Marinette proposed.

Hugo’s expression turned troubled. “But I like Emmie! I don’t want a different sister. Is this because she got sick?”

Adrien clapped a hand firmly over his mouth.

Marinette grimaced. “Oh…no, Sweetie.”

Luka gave Hugo a squeeze. “Buddy, Emmie’s not going anywhere. We meant that we’re going to have a new baby in addition to Emmie.”

“I get to keep Emmie?” Hugo verified, a hint of terror still in his voice.

“Yes,” Luka stressed. “And you’ll get a new little sibling too.”

Hugo pursed his lips and thought about this. “…Okay. That would be okay. …Could we get one with hair like Daddy and eyes like Auntie Juleka and skin like Uncle Nino? Can you order one like that?”

“Do we tell him about designer babies?” Adrien chuckled.

Marinette smacked his arm. “No, Sweetie. You don’t order babies. You grow them. They’re like flowers.”

“So can’t we just buy seeds for a baby with yellow hair and orange eyes and tan skin?” Hugo reasoned, looking up at Luka.

Luka and Marinette grimaced in unison.

Adrien took a stab at answering the question. “Unfortunately, we only have seeds on hand for babies with blue or green eyes and black hair. Maybe brownish hair if the genes mix right. Your new little sibling is going to look a lot like you and Emmie. If not, your mother will have some explaining to do.”

Marinette pinched Adrien’s nose hard.

“Ow!” Adrien whined. “It was a joke. I was joking, Milady. Luka, save me!”

“You’re on your own, P5,” Luka snickered.

“Mama, no hurt Daddy,” Emma whimpered, reaching for Marinette’s arm.

Marinette let go of Adrien and beamed down at her daughter. “Oh, Baby, I wasn’t really hurting him.”

Adrien leaned in to nuzzle Marinette’s ear affectionately. “We were just playing. We love each other, right, Princess?”

“Mmhm,” Marinette agreed, turning to catch Adrien’s lips. As they pulled away, Marinette gave Adrien another ‘smug Ladybug’ smirk. “But I like Luka better.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue. “What a crazy coincidence. I do too.” He turned to wrap his arms around Luka, tucking his head under Luka’s chin. “Mine.”

Hugo reached out, putting his hand on Adrien’s face. “You’re silly, Daddy.”

“I’m theatrical,” Adrien corrected patiently. “That’s why I’m so good at my job.”

“I’m good at playing pretend too,” Hugo boasted, grinning broadly. “…How old do you have to be before they give you money to watch you play pretend?”

“I had my first acting role when I was a couple months old,” Adrien recounted, reaching out to stroke Hugo’s hair. “My mom, your Grandma Émilie, was an actor like I am. I used to be in plays and musicals with her when I was little. There are roles for children of all ages, but…I think maybe you should wait until you’re a little older.” Adrien snuck glances at Marinette and Luka who both nodded.

“How old?” Hugo pressed.

Adrien bit his lip. “Hmmm…a few years older? The Parental Council will discuss and let you know. If you’re still interested when you’re a little older, maybe we can sign you up for a class or a summer camp or something. I don’t know. I don’t know if I want you jumping into the bigtimes right away like I did. Being famous is no good for a kid. I know you’re already kind of there just with your family, but…I don’t want that for you, Hugo. Okay?”

Hugo frowned and opened his mouth to ask a question, but he was blindsided by an enormous yawn. “Okay,” he replied sleepily, starting to rub at his eyes.

“Why don’t you sleep for a bit?” Luka suggested. “We’ll wake you up when the doctor gets here.”

Hugo blinked slowly at his father. “No, you won’t,” he moped but set his head down on Luka’s left shoulder anyway, closing his eyes. “Daddy, wake me up, please.”

“Will—” Adrien was cut off by a yawn of his own. “—Sorry. Will do.”

Marinette and Luka snickered at Adrien’s expense.

“Tired, Chaton?”

“You can close your eyes for a bit too, Angel,” Luka tempted with a smirk.

Adrien nuzzled Luka’s neck. “I’m not falling for your clever scheme. I’m staying awake with Emmie. You should head up to bed.”

Luka turned his smirk on Marinette. “He’ll be asleep in less than five minutes.”

Adrien bit his husband.

Luka chuckled sibilantly. “I love you.”

“…of ya…too,” Adrien replied disjointed, his breath starting to even out. His eyelids fluttered open several times as he fought off inevitable slumber, but he eventually succumbed to sleep.

Marinette smiled at Luka. “You know, if you wanted to close your eyes for a few minutes…”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Love you too, Chanson.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” she assured, reaching out past Adrien to fiddle with a strand of Luka’s hair.

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “I know.”

[omgilostmyshoe]

Sabriel Week 2019. Day Six: Neighbours/Roommates

Waiting for Superman

(title from the song by Daughtry)

Rating: T

Pairing: Sabriel

Wordcount:  2028

Tags and Warnings: Human AU, K9 Unit Officer Sam Winchester, Author Gabriel, Aromantic Gabriel, Tooth-rotting fluff.

@sabrielevents

What to do when you find a stranger in your hallway, trying to get to the neighbor that is no longer there? You can try giving some advice on the cheap hotels nearby or just ignore him. Sam, however, is the officer of the law and cannot just let the man vanish into the night. Especially, such a cute man. So, he might as well offer him to stay until morning... Or until death does them apart.

"Police, freeze! Hands where I can see them!" 

Sam reacts instinctively when he finds a stranger, trying to get into his neighbor's closed door.

The man in question freezes, following the commands, even though all Sam has is the dog on a leash. Which is actually quite a lot, considering that said dog is a trained police animal. 

"Turn around and identify yourself!" 

Again, the man complies instantly, his face changing from slightly concerned to surprised, when he sees the one who was giving out the orders. Sam knows that out of the uniform, without his badge or a gun, all of which are in the apartment, he can't really prove that he's a cop. 

But he stands his ground, just as the dog at his side also stared down a possible foe. 

"I'm Gabriel Novak. Just flew in, planned to crash in with my girlfriend, Ro. She lives there." The man still doesn't lower his arms, just points with one finger at the door he was fiddling with. "But it seems nobody is home..."

"She moved out. About a week ago. Said she's moving to Europe or something. And please, lower your arms... You can relax." 

The more Sam talks, the more Gabriel face falls. He's handsome, but visibly tired, the dust of the road and lightning of the hall accentuating the lines of his face. 

While wondering, what to do, Sam automatically pats the dog at his side, who relaxed as his owner does.

His neighbor was rather adventurous, her apartment always filled with new people, men and women alike. She loved to talk, but never would confess her own name. Her favorite subject of gossip though, when she managed to catch Sam, were her numerous lovers. 

Mostly it was in some odd hours of the night, when after the double shift or an emergency, Sam was returning after a dog walk. The woman would glide out of her apartment--her gait couldn't be described any other way--and just start talking. 

So this is how he knows, sort of, who the man before him is. 

He was one of her more or less steady flames, Gabe, as she called him. Author of some books or something, always on the move, always traveling. Which is why their meetings were very few and far in between, but so hot she could not help herself but to "keep him," as she put it. Except now he wanted something more permanent, settling in New York for at least a year, and in the last conversation, Ro was lamenting how, "Gabe was getting clingy". 

Apparently, her way of saying goodbye to clingy lovers was to move to the other side of the world without warning. Or anything. 

"So... What's his name?" 

Gabriel is the first to break the awkward silence, watching the dog at Sam's feet with a weak smile. 

"Dogmeat." Sam grits out, readying himself for a joke, that he heard plenty, but Gabriel surprises him. He only lightly laughs and nods, winking at the animal. 

"Good choice, and very good look alike. Though I certainly would like your version better if I could pet him." 

It seems surprises would never cease today, as Dogmeat does the maximum his ironclad training allows. He quietly whines and tugs at the leash lightly, indicating that he would very much like to be petted by Gabriel. With a cautious stare, Sam hesitates, looking from the German shepherd to Gabriel again.

"So, no problems with dogs?"

"Is loving them too much counts as a problem?" 

Sam chuckles and releases the dog, giving a freeing command. Dogmeat runs like a torpedo, paws scrambling on the slippery tile floor. 

His furry body collides with Gabriel legs and the dog whines and wags his tail happily as the man immediately starts petting him. 

Soon, Dogmeat is on the floor, all four legs up, his belly exposed for the expert rubs that Gabriel bestows, and Sam is left just to stare in amazement. 

Even though his dog's reactions are the perfect judge of character already he, after getting permission, still snaps a pic of Gabriel, focusing on his face. The man probably thinks it's for a cute moment with the dog--which it is, partially--but Sam also sends the pic to Jody, asking to run an urgent background check and attaches a name. 

In the meantime, Dogmeat having gotten plenty of belly rubs now stands and starts licking all over Gabriel's face, neck and even his hair. 

Sam just got to save the poor man, a quiet call of dog's name enough to stop the shower of slobbery affections, and Gabriel nods gratefully. 

He wisely doesn't speak before getting a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his face of the worst of the damage. 

"He likes you," Sam announces, perhaps a bit unnecessary, after the clear approval his dog shown this man. 

"Well, at least somebody does, that's good." 

He jokes, and smiles again, but Sam can see the exhaustion that weighs on him, and it's probably not all physical. Going to somebody you care about, expecting to find at least a place to rest and a friendly face, and finding only the closed door... That must be harsh. 

"You don't seem so bad to me either," Sam gives up, smirking, and finally this gets his a more genuine and energetic response. He likes as Gabriel's face morphs and he smirks in return, winking again, now to Sam, which is just as effective as it was on his dog. He can’t say he’s ready to drop on all fours before the man just yet, but it’s a pretty close call.  

"Which is why I'm gonna do you a favor." 

"Oh?" 

As Sam finally goes to unlock his door, Dogmeat glued to his side in the familiar formation, Gabriel tenses. Sam notices but does not comment, just gestures to the couple of suitcases, that are tucked in the corner of the hall. 

"You need a place to stay the night, at least. As an officer of the law, I can't in good conscience simply leave you out in the cold at,” He checks his watch, “4 am." He then opens the door and ushers the dog inside, who promptly lays down at her appointed spot, waiting for the wash and feeding. 

"So, you actually are a cop? Can I see the badge?" 

A curious tilt of the head cannot hide a guarded stare Gabriel levels him with. 

"Sure," that request is easy and actually sensible, making Sam like the man more and more, and with just a half a minute rummaging in the apartment, he shows off his credentials to Gabriel. Who hasn't moved much, though Sam noticed he and his suitcases had shifted a little closer to the exit, ready to bolt if needed with minimum casualties. 

Sam smiles approvingly, wishing every citizen would be as vigilant and careful with their life and health. Perhaps then he wouldn't need to work as much. 

On the other hand, that way, he might have not caught this late shift. 

He might not have met Gabriel. 

Who finally surrenders and rolls the suitcases in, while accessing Sam's home with a curious glance. 

Dogmeat wags his tail happily from his spot, watching two people interact, talk, and touch. 

It's just a random connection, as Sam helps Gabriel to shrug off the tangled coat. 

But as Gabriel lifts his amber eyes, hand not moving from Sam's bare forearms, sending a wave of goosebumps from the contact, he speaks, low and serious. 

"Thank you, Superman." 

"You're welcome... What?" 

And then Gabriel breaks out in a fit of giggles, breaking the moment and the contact, pointing at Sam's shirt, that does bear the symbol of the aforementioned superhero.

"You still haven't told me your name." 

Sam blushes, running a hand through his hair and huffing and embarrassed laugh himself. 

"Sorry. Sam Winchester. It's nice to meet you." 

They shake hands, and there it is again. 

Eye contact, catching, getting a lot longer than necessary, and Sam feels as his palm is enveloped in both of Gabriel's hands now, warm and dry. 

"It truly is." 

Sam turns in the bed, trying to escape the sun shining through the crack in the curtains. 

As soon as he settles back into the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows and blessed darkness however, there is a broad wet tongue on his face, licking him thoroughly. 

"Gabe, leave me alone. Day offff..." Sam mumbled, half asleep, hiding his face below his arms, shoving the loving attention away. Because really, he was promised a good rest tonight with as much sleep as he could handle. 

"Wow, now I feel really offended, you can't even tell the difference between us." 

Mocking remark sounds from the foot of the bed, definitely not from anywhere near his head, and Sam jumps up, eyes bleary, and trying to kick his brain into working mode.  

He relaxes, finding Gabriel, not on the bed, only standing near, a tray laden with dishes in his hands. 

The check of the bed reveals a bouncy Dogmeat, who's blinking happily at Sam. 

"Off the bed! Now!" 

The dog scatters off, properly shamed. For the moment, at least, until Gabe finds another way to sneak some treats to him or something. 

Gabriel stalks closer, settling a tray across Sam's knees above the blanket. It is barely able to fit all the mugs, plates and saucers stacked onto it, all filled with delicious foods, and two main dishes even covered with fancy metallic domes. 

"What's the occasion, Gabe? This seems like a lot." 

He knows the answer, but he just likes to hear it. So he asks. 

"Well, today

the day. It has been whole three years since we became roommates." Gabriel announces dramatically, even finishing off with a flashy shake of his hair, that got a lot longer, brown curls reaching his shoulders now.

"Seriously? Roommates? That's what you're going with?" 

It is hard to keep a straight face while Gabriel does his thing, pouting and staring imploringly. 

"Roommates with benefits?" Under Sam's raising his brows, unimpressed, and him fighting a smile, that probably got his face in a strange twitching grimace, Gabe gives up. 

"Okay, okay. Three years anniversary, my lovely boyfriend Superman. I'm happy you're still with me, and, as astounding that is, still love me." 

Sam ignores the pet name, that of course stuck--Dean laughed his ass off at that one--and pulls his boyfriend into a grateful kiss. 

After a tender and long moment they separate, barely, Gabe smiling softly. Sam though, he looks into the amber eyes deeply, not searching or waiting for anything. He is long made his peace with how they are. 

"Always. Happy anniversary." 

The next kiss is longer, lingering, Sam clutching onto Gabe's thin shirt to tug him closer. They stop only when the tray clangs alarmingly, and both giggle before moving everything around. 

Gabe slides under the blanket, cuddling to Sam's side and--dramatic as ever--reveals the first dish, lifting the dome covering.

The plate is practically drowning in maple syrup that drips from the impressive stack of fresh pancakes. 

"That's... very sweet," Mumbles Sam, eyeing the stack. 

"Indeed it is, which is exactly why I cooked it for myself. Yours is this one, my favorite health nut." 

And with a loud smooch to the cheek, Gabe lifts the dome from the second plate, this one with totally different contents. A bowl with oatmeal--egg, steamed vegetables, and a little cheese on top--front and center, its aroma and sight mouthwatering. It is surrounded by different kinds of toasts: avocado, more vegetables, fresh this time, mixed in with Sam's favorite Italian cheeses. 

"Thank you, Gabe... This is perfect." 

It really is, the tray filled with both of their favorite items, lovingly prepared and carefully arranged. Gabe waves off the gratitude, but his smile says it all. 

Before digging into the feast, Sam steals another thorough kiss from his boyfriend, deep and passionate. 

They even actually manage to eat before falling into bed to satisfy a different hunger and between more kisses, Sam whispers, again and again, 

"You are perfect. I love you." 

[p-artsypants]

Nine Lives (1- The Plan)

When Adrien Agreste is scheduled to go to a Military School in Germany, Chat Noir must make a critical decision. Does he give up his Miraculous? Or does he give up his life as Adrien? I'll save you the trouble of guessing, he gives up being Adrien.

Full disclosure, I’ve been planning this in my head for a few years now, but I just wanted to write other stuff first. But now, I’ve fallen back into Miraculous Ladybug hell, and I had to get this out. I have no update schedule. But I hope you all enjoy!

FF.net | Ao3

—

Finally, it was done. All his planning, all his underhanded dealings. It was all worth it. Now he'd live in peace. That is, after he died.

It was complicated.

Adrien Agreste was planning something big.

It all started when he came home from a late night photoshoot two weeks ago. As soon as he walked in the door, his father was standing on top of the stairs, staring at him.

"My office. Now."

His father never even said his name. He knew this had to be bad.

It turned out to be even worse.

The chairs in the office were uncomfortable, and hard. His father looked at his computer and files on his desk, anywhere to avoid eye contact.

Finally, he looked up briefly. "You're moving to Germany.” He stated.

These words were French, yet they might have been Swahli, because all comprehension flew from Adrien’s head.

“What?”

“You heard me,” said Gabriel, heartlessly. “Germany.”

“G-Ge-Germany?!” Adrien stuttered.

"Don't stutter, boy. It makes you look foolish."

"But—Germany!”

"That's what I said."

"But why?"

“There is a very prestigious school in Tannenwalde. If you insist on going to school, I’ll have to ask you to attend on my terms.” Gabriel stood, his hands behind his back, and paced over to the windows. “I only want what’s best for you, after all.”  

"I think...it's a lousy idea.” Adrien crossed his arms. Though it was an act of rebellion, it sounded weak in his ears.  

Mr. Agreste met his eyes, a look of intense focus on his face. "Listen here, boy."

Oh no, here we go.

"You have no right to speak to me like that! I am your father and you will do as I say! I own you!”

Adrien didn’t like the use of the word ‘own.’ Was he a slave? A pet? Or a trophy?

He winced. “Did you even think about how I'd feel?”

“Yes, but you’ll get over it.”

“Not likely! This is my future!”

“Watch your tone.” His father glared. “And I know it’s your future, that’s why I took it into my own hands. You’re only 17 years old. You’re still a child, just learning how to walk. You can’t possibly make these kinds of decisions on your own.”

“I wasn’t planning on it! Father—Germany?!”

“Yes, Adrien! How many times must you make me repeat it?”

Adrien stood and paced. “This is just unreal…I don’t…I’m only 17! I can’t live that far away from everyone! This is the only place I’ve ever known.”

“Your bodyguard will be going with you.”

Stellar.

“And it’s only a day’s drive, it’s not that far.”

It is when there’s an akuma attack, he thought bitterly. “Why?”

“I already said, there’s a prestigious school—…”

Adrien cut him off. “But why now? Why not when I started school? Why do you have to do this to me?”

“Paris is too dangerous for you. What with all this superhero nonsense.”

Adrien slouched in his seat. “Isn’t it dangerous everywhere? Why not just keep me home, where you know I’m protected?”

“Oh, did I not mention? Saint Erhard’s is a Military school. Highly regulated dorms, schedules planned out to the minute, maximum security. I know you’ll be fine.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking, right? I can’t believe this. This is completely unfair!”

Gabriel looked away from him, and returned to his desk. “Life is unfair. It’s nothing you won’t get used to. It’s a lot more fair if you respect my wishes and listen to what I have to say.”

Adrien shook his head, his body filled with rebellion. “I won’t do it.”

Gabriel glanced at him, quirked an eyebrow and frowned. “You will. You’re enrolled and set to begin at the next trimester. You have no choice. I know what I’m doing. End of discussion. You are dismissed.”

“Discussion?! More like commandment! Please don’t make me do this!”

“Adrien, you are dismissed.” His father raised his voice. Then he turned back to his computer without another word.

The teen, more angry then he had ever been in his life, stomped to the door. Before he left, he threw, “I hate you,” over his shoulder, and then slammed the door.

Adrien was fuming, surely there was smoke coming out of his ears.

Plagg zipped out of his jacket and whizzed in front of his face.

“Germany! Why that man is a monster! German cheese is vastly inferior to French!”

Adrien snatched the cat out of the air, a bit forcefully. “Not now Plagg!”

When he reached his room the threw open the door, slammed it behind him, dropped Plagg, drop kicked his backpack, and slammed face first onto his bed, where he laid silently for many moments.

The black cat came an nestled next to the boy, a small paw playing with a tendril of hair. “I’m sorry for joking. I’m not good at taking things seriously.”

Adrien didn’t answer.

“Please say something Adrien, these are the emotions that get someone possessed by an akuma. If you get taken, who will help Ladybug? Surely, you wouldn’t make her fight you, would you?”

That got a response. The teen turned his face to his Kwami. “Plagg…what am I going to do? It’s easy being Chat Noir when my dad ignores me. But Germany? I’ll never be able to help Ladybug! Forget Hawkmoth, I’ll never have a minute to myself! This is a mess!” He buried his face back in his pillow. “I want to die.”

Plagg sighed. “C’mon. You don’t want to die. You can’t help Ladybug if you’re dead. And…would you really make me find someone else to be Chat Noir? Some poor boy that can’t afford Camembert more then once a month? You’d do that to me?”

Adrien could tell the Cat would actually miss him if he was gone, and he was trying to convey that, in his own way.

“Well, I don’t wish I was dead. I wish Adrien was dead.”

“How would you manage that? You can’t kill one without the other…unless you faked it.”

Adrien had to hand it to Plagg. Sometimes his wisdom of a thousand years really showed. “Fake it, huh?”

The kwami stared at him, wide-eyed. “Now, don’t do anything rash. You know your father sometimes changes his mind.”

“Yeah, like the amount of times he’s pulled me out of school, because he changed his mind. Fencing, piano, Chinese, modeling…those were all his ideas. He made me do all of those, despite the fact I didn’t want to.”  

Plagg was quiet for a moment, thinking. “So what are you going to do?”

Adrien was getting angry again, and had to take a calming breath. “God, I wish there was someone I could talk to about this.”

“What about Ladybug?”

That much was obvious. It just took some prompting to get to. With only a nod, Adrien uttered ‘Claws Out,’ and Chat Noir was off into the night.

It wasn’t a patrol night, so Chat just had to roam around and hope for the best. He withdrew his baton, and called his Lady.

Miraculously, she answered. “Chat? Is everything okay?”

“Um…not really. Like, Paris is fine, but I’m not. Can we talk? Like, face to face?”

Her soothing hum came from the line, “Of course, Chaton.”

The city was peaceful, but ever bustling. The lights glittered in the cool autumn mist, and the sounds were drowned out in the height of the Eiffel Tower. Chat had arrived first, but was only alone for a moment before Ladybug arrived.

“Hey,” she greeted softly.

“Hi,” he returned.

She hurried her steps to him and enveloped him in a comforting hug. Whatever was wrong, she would do her best to fix it.

“So,” she began, after many moments of silence. “What’s wrong Chat?”

Chat pulled away from her to sit, his knees up and rested his arms on them, folding his hands in front of his face. “My lady…would you be able to fight without me?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate. “You have always saved my butt, and swooped in in the nick of time. I just…I know I wouldn’t be able to do this without you. Why would you ask such a thing?”

Chat took a shuttering breath. “My father wants to send me away. Countries away.”

Ladybug’s eye brows rose. “I—…” She didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t want to go. Some of my friends I could keep in contact with, but you…my best friend…” His brows knotted together. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.

Ladybug had never seen her partner so lost. Her heart went out to him. “Oh kitty…” She rested her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around him. She felt him press a soft kiss to her head as he leaned into her embrace. “I don’t know what to do either…” She bit her lip. “I’m…I’m still a kid, there’s so much I don’t know…did you talk to your kwami?”

He hummed. “Plagg…helped me come up with pretty extreme solution.”

“And that is?”

Chat hesitated. “For the sake of my secret identity, I probably shouldn’t tell you.”

She nodded in understanding, as she thought, “God, I don’t want you to have to give up being Chat. You’re my partner, I trust you with my life.”

“As I trust mine with you.” He admitted. “And my heart.”

She scratched the back of his head with affection and then asked. “Have you met Master Fu?”

“Oh!” He shouted, nearly forgetting. Chat sighed with relief. Having a real human adult on their side really made him feel like there was a security net underneath them for this exact scenario. “Yes, but…I don’t know how to get in contact with him.”

“I’ll reach out to him for you.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” Chat said sincerely.

Ladybug smiled back, “and if there’s anything else you need, you just let me know. Okay? Chat Noir comes first, and that includes who you are under the mask.”

Feeling a bit more relieved, Chat sat up straighter and managed a genuine smile. “Thank you Ladybug, I knew you’d be able to help.”

—

The next day, Adrien came home from school. He hadn’t had the courage to tell any of his friends that he would be leaving soon, in one way or another. So he acted as normal as possible, and as far as he could tell, no one suspected a thing.

“Your Chinese Instructor is sending a substitute again today,” Nathalie explained. “Mr. Chang, if you remember him.”

Adrien smiled. Ladybug worked fast! “Oh, okay, Nathalie! He was really good, and I liked him.”

The secretary offered a twitch of a smile and went about her business.

Master Fu arrived within the hour, bowing respectfully to Adrien. “It is good to see you again,” he said in Chinese.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Adrien responded in kind.

Satisfied, Nathalie closed the door and left them alone.

“So, Ladybug said you needed to speak with me.”

Adrien invited him over to the couch and sat heavily. “Yeah, I have…a pretty big problem.”

“Regarding the Miraculous?”

“Well, sort of. It effects it.”

Fu nodded, urging him to continue.

“My father wants to send me to a Military school in Germany. 24 hour surveillance, and even if I was able to get away, it would take hours to get here to fight an akuma.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to find a new Chat Noir.” Fu said easily, stroking his beard.

Adrien winced, clenching his fists.

Plagg looked to Fu with sadness, and then anger. “That’s it!? You’d just replace him!? That’s not why he called you here! If you take that ring…I’ll— I’ll—“ He frowned, knowing that he couldn’t do anything.

“Now we know that Plagg is willing to do what it takes, are you Adrien?”

The question stunned Adrien, as he hunched in on himself. “I…” There was real, true conflict in his eyes. “Chat Noir is the only freedom I’ve ever had. And now that I’ve had it, I can’t go back. It…it would destroy me.” He nodded once to himself, steeling his resolve. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Even if it means hurting those you love?”

With still great hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah…”

Fu smiled wisely. “You would not be the first Miraculous holder to seek a new identity. I myself had to do it once before. Whether they were compromised by public knowledge, or they wanted to invest full time in being a hero, the reasons vary, but the process changes little. Though in this modern world, we will have to take new steps. Are you 100% committed to this?”

“I just have a few concerns…”

“And they would be?”

“If I were to run away, my father would hire PIs to find me. He will not stop until he finds me.”

“So we make it that he won’t look for you.”

Adrien’s understanding grin was wavering. “You mean…fake my death?”

“It is the most drastic, but obvious solution. But you are a celebrity, with a very rich and powerful father. Drastic means to an end.”

“I figured.”

“When are you being shipped out?”

“My father said I’m starting next trimester…which is only in a few weeks.”

“Then we better work quickly. I will set up a private bank account for you and make up a Birth Certificate. Since you are younger than 18, I’ll will be your legal guardian. It only makes sense, right?”

Adrien could only nod, a lump in his throat.

“You can stay with me until you are ready to go out on your own. I don’t have much room, but it’ll be a safe place to go. I also don’t have a lot of money, so don’t expect me to pay for university.”

“My father gives me a pretty good allowance in my personal bank account. He hardly checks the balance either, so I can funnel it into the new account.”

“If it is your own personal account, that will work, I think. I will need you to create a private email address so that I can contact you with the details. Are you following me?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright, your new surname will be Fu, same as mine. But you get to pick your first name, whatever you desire.”

Adrien thought a moment. “Emile. Emile Fu.”

[whatarubberchicken]

AU YEAH August - 2 - College

@auyeahaugust

Based on a true story.

(Not that I’m saying y’all should try this, because the people involved were actually hurt, so please try to party responsibly.)

Warning: Language and mild anime-style groping.

Crash Course

“WHEEEEE!!!” Thump!!

“WOO HOOOOO!!” Thump!!

“COWABUNGA!!!” Thump!!

“Really, man??”

“Hey, don’t hate on the classics!”

“Whatever, you two! Just GO!!”

“Wait, I wasn’t ready—AAAHHHHH!!!” Thump!!

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING?” Alya seethed, as she and Marinette tried to get some sleep in their dorm room. Sleep… that was evading them with all the noise right outside their door. Even with pillows over their heads.

Marinette sighed and threw the pillow off. “Last I checked, they poured laundry detergent on the bathroom floor to make themselves a slip-and-slide.”

“And they can’t do that on their floor???” Alya hissed, as another thump! was followed by a round of laughter.

“They probably already got kicked off their floor. And Alex is with them, so she’d be the one who suggested our suite.”

Whoever designed these suites, with four dorm rooms all situated around a bathroom—with freaking already-slippery linoleum all around—well, they needed to be shot. Or she could just aim for Alix, who lived across from them, and had obviously invited a bunch of her guy-friends up for a little fun…

“DOU-BLES!! DOU-BLES!! DOU-BLES!!”

“They’re gonna break something,” Marinette groaned, covering her face again.

“I’m gonna break something!!” Alya growled, flinging herself out of bed and stomping over to the door. “HEY, YOU JERKS!! SOME OF US HAVE EIGHT AM CLASS—WHOA!!”

“WAAAAHHH!!!”

“AAAHHH!!”

Marinette sat up just in time to see two guys fly through their now-open door, one of them taking out Alya, and the other… headed… straight for her bed!!

She screamed.

He screamed.

CRASH!!!

Marinette groaned as she heard distant voices. They were nowhere near close enough to belong to the large weight currently sprawled on top of her. Damn, he was really warm. Said heat source groaned and shifted on top of her.

She tensed as his shifting brought his hand down on her chest, and felt him freeze.

“I… umm… hi...?”

Oh, she was done being nice to this jerk.

“GET OFF ME!!” she screamed, ramming her knee as hard as she could to his private areas. (Which was sadly not very hard, as her sheets stopped her momentum.) He still let out a very-satisfying yelp and rolled off the bed.

Furious, Marinette sat up and grabbed her pillow, fully-intent on pummeling the douchebag who wasn’t letting her sleep, had crashed into her room, and just grabbed her boob!! She was gonna—

She gaped at the wide, green eyes staring up at her.

Oh fuck. I just racked Adrien Agreste.

“I am so sorry!!” he babbled, gasping for breath as he struggled to his feet while clutching his… well, yeah. “I didn’t expect us to go that fast, and then the door opened—”

“Aww, the Physics major didn’t take physics into account,” Alix snickered from the door.

“Oh, shut up, Alix,” Adrien snapped, still looking at Marinette anxiously.

“Ooo, pretty boy’s in a temper,” Alix teased. Then she saw what he was clutching. She howled in laughter. “You went right for the jewels, Mari?? That’s my girl!!”

“I was assaulted. On my bed,” Marinette seethed, now both angry and terrified that Gabriel Agreste, the Head of her department, would hear how she’d attacked his son. Even if it was completely justified.

“Believe me, complete accident!” Adrien said, holding up his hands and trying to reassure her.

“If you all don’t get out of my room right now, I will make your deaths LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT!!” Alya screamed, as she slowly stood and reached for the nearest weapon. It happened to be her desk chair. Alix and the two boys didn’t need any more encouragement, and they raced each other out of the room, with Adrien casting one more desperate glance at Marinette before the door closed.

……..

Class the next morning was awkward. She was sleepy from worrying all night, it was hard to get out of her room without slipping (because of course the stupid group of boys hadn’t cleaned up after themselves, of course!), and she found she couldn’t look her favorite teacher in the eye (he may be a frigid bastard, but he was also brilliant when it came to fashion).

She’d never run out of the fashion building so fast in her life.

Unfortunately, she didn’t see the obstacle in her way.

CRASH!!!

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow, I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t looking where—YOU!?!” Marinette gasped, scrambling off the blond she’d just landed on.

“Me. Again. And I guess I deserved that,” Adrien mumbled, just laying there on the ground.

“Yeah, well—! I… I.. umm… yeah! I… You… you....” Marinette sighed in defeat and stood up. “No, this one was my fault. I’m sorry,” she said, offering him a hand to help him up. He blinked at her in surprise, and smiled as he took her hand.

“I was actually coming over here to apologize to you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was gonna bring you coffee or something, but I realized I didn’t know what you like… and Alya wouldn’t tell me…,”

Marinette smothered her smile with a hand. Alya was still boiling-mad about last night, and had been talking about going to the RA. Adrien? He was seriously cute, and obviously embarrassed about the whole debacle.

“…so I figured maybe I’d ask you out for a coffee instead?” he finished hopefully, flashing her a winning smile.

She raised an eyebrow. Normally, she’d take anything Lila Rossi said with more than a few grains of salt, but the girl had sworn up and down that Adrien Agreste was a typical pretty-boy player who couldn’t be trusted, and Adrien was looking at her like a cute smile and a cup of coffee could fix everything.

So, instead of swooning, she crossed her arms and shot him an unamused look.

“I’d much rather you go back to my room…” (Adrien looked surprised, but still interested.) “And clean up the mess you made,” she finished evenly. “The cleaning staff doesn’t get paid enough to clean up something like that.”

Sure enough, pretty boy’s smile faded.

“Ye-yeah, sure, of course,” he stammered, trying a sheepish smile instead. Marinette still wasn’t mollified. The boy was a model. He knew what his body-language looked like.

“Alya’s last class is done at six,” she said. “It should probably be done before then.”

Adrien gulped and hesitated. “Well, I have a pretty busy schedule today….”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Typical.

“But you had enough time to come over here and harass me?” she pointed out.

“I—I’m not harassing you!” Adrien exclaimed. “I’m trying to apologize! Please—just, don’t tell my father?”

“Oh, yeah, that’d work out great for me!” Marinette exclaimed. “I can’t think of a quicker way to get kicked out of my department than to tell the Head I assaulted his son! What are you, nuts?”

Adrien looked visibly relieved. “So, we’re good, then?” he asked hopefully.

“Not even close, Fabio,” she snarled, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her dorm. “You’re gonna get started cleaning!”

“Fabio??” the blond sounded offended. “You really think I look like—Hey, wait! I have—class!!”

“So do I, pretty boy. But if you can skip to buy me a cup of coffee, you can skip to clean up your mess!!”

……

“And then, your mother dragged me back to her room and did wicked things to me,” Adrien finished, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I got you a mop and bucket and taught you how to use them when it became clear you had no idea what you were doing,” Marinette corrected, flicking her husband on the nose.

“Like I said: wicked,” he nodded solemnly to their new son.

“Yup, and I plan on being just as evil to both of you for the rest of your lives. You will learn to cook, and clean, and fix broken doors….”

“Hey now, I wasn’t part of that one!” Adrien protested. “And I’m pretty sure Kim and Nino were drunk!”

“Didn’t stop you from encouraging Nino when he proposed to Alya to get her to stop screaming at him,” Marinette pointed out, taking her infant son from him and cradling him.

“I still think they’ll be a great couple,” Adrien shrugged, shifting so he was sitting a bit closer to his new family. “If they ever stop trying to kill each other.”

Marinette agreed. “We’re getting them a slip-n-slide for their wedding present.”

End.

[hunterenough]

December 13

Notes: I’m co-posting this on AO3 (hunterenough). Written for @notfunnydean for the SPN Advent Calendar Challenge. This post contains NSFW highly technical wing grooming smut.

December 13

Waking up from a nap with an angel was kinda hot, he’d learned yesterday. Waking up after sleeping for a full eight hours was like, very grossly hot in another way. Cas was like a furnace, and between his body heat and the blanket, Dean was roasting. Every part of him felt sweaty. And he had to pee, like immediately, but he couldn’t wiggle his way out of bed.

“Cas, c’mon man.” He gave his angel a little shove. Cas just whimpered and tightened his hold, pressing down more firmly on his bladder, and the urge to pee became urgent.

“Seriously, dude. I have to get up.”

Cas grumbled, but he rolled over.

Dean leapt out of bed with a sigh of relief. The cold air on his sweaty skin was doing no favors to his bladder situation, so he rushed to the bathroom. He detoured to the kitchen for coffee on his way bad to his room, deciding his angel might be more agreeable to morning after his first hit of caffeine. He waited, mostly patiently, for the coffee to brew.  

By the time the pot was three quarters full, he was freezing. The warmth of both his bed and his angel had worn off, and the floor felt like ice under his bare feet. He was debating breaking his own rule about interrupting the coffee brew cycle when Sam wandered in.

“G’’morning.”

“Morning Sammy.”

“Where’s your robe? ‘S cold in here.”

“I just had to pee, wanted to grab some coffee before I went back to bed.”

Sam arched his eyebrow and glanced obviously at the two mugs laid out before the coffee pot.

“I...uh, Cas…” He spluttered.

Sam started laughing.”I’m just giving you shit man. Way to step up and be a good boyfriend. Everyone deserves coffee in bed now and then.”

Dean glared at him as the coffee pot gurgled indicating the brew was finishing up.  Dean filled the two mugs, returned the pot to its home, and pointed at Sam. “You shut up.”

Sam’s laughter followed him out of the kitchen.

Cas was literally buried in the pillows and blanket when he got back to the room. When Dean tapped his shoulder, he groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head.

“I brought coffee. I had to face down Sam to get it, the least you can do is sit up.”

“Can’t we just stay in bed?” Dean was pretty sure that’s what Cas had said, but given that he hadn’t moved from under the pillows, it could really have been anything.

“Cas, we spent all day yesterday in bed. We only got up to eat. If we do that every day, we’re going to turn into fat slobs. Well, I will, you can probably grace yourself all hot again.”

Cas’ shoulders were shaking, and it sounded like he was laughing. He finally rolled over. Dean joined him on the bed, propped up against the headboard. He handed Cas a mug when the angel finally sat up.

They sat there for a quiet minute, enjoying their coffee.

“So, what do you have planned for today Santa?”

“I was thinking of another snow tradition maybe, I don’t know.”

“I like the snow. Were you planning on breakfast? I owe Gabriel breakfast for teaching me about music.”

“First, I think Gabe negated that when he got you all freaked out about the spell. Serves him right if he never eats my cooking again after getting you all worked up. Jesus, either one of them could have talked to me about it first.”

“I’m guessing it would be bad form to mention that talking has not generally been a strength of yours until very recently?”

“You guess correctly. Second, Sam’s on my shit list for calling you my boyfriend all smarmy like this morning.”

“Am I your boyfriend?”

“Ummm, yes? I mean, I kinda assumed, after yesterday, I don’t know! Do you want to be?”

“Hmmm, I would say, yes. So, why does that merit wrath toward Sam?”

“Because, he teased me about it before I even got to ask you myself.”

“Dean, despite the lack of sexual physical contact, I’m pretty sure we’ve been romantically involved for years, he’s pretty late to be teasing you about it. He could have started teasing you when we started staring at each other for extended periods of time. Eye fucking I believe he calls it.”

Dean groaned. Hearing his angel swear had an alarmingly stimulating effect on his dick.

“Fine. I can’t really argue that one. Just don’t tell Sam. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Gabriel’s been teasing me for years. I never bothered to contradict him because I couldn’t argue that I didn’t have a romantic interest in you. Usually, I just ignore him until he gets bored.”

“Good plan. I’ve got a better one. Let’s go engage in gross amounts of PDA until he gets scared and runs away.”

Cas grinned. “I like the way you think...boyfriend.”

“Ugh, that just sounds wrong. Maybe don’t call me that as a nickname. Save it for introductions, like ‘This is my boyfriend, Dean.’ But only when we’re not under cover or on a case or something ok?”

“What should I call you? Honey?”

“I suppose, or hon could work, although, I’ve always kinda like the way you say my name.” Dean blushed.

“That...explains a lot.”

“What!?”

“Nothing, it’s just...your soul sometimes.”

Dean lifted his eyebrow.

“I know you don’t like it when I get in your head, so I don’t do that anymore, but sometimes, your soul is just so...I really like looking at your soul. And sometimes, it does this thing, like kinda flares up for a second, red sometimes, but sometimes gold or silver or purple…”

“Get to the point babe.”

Cas preened at the diminutive. “I could never figure out what that meant. The color was never predictable, which was confusing, and I couldn’t relate it to anything in particular, but I’m beginning to understand it was lust. All of those, among other things, are colors of lust.”

Dean flushed. “I thought I kept that under wraps.”

“Dean, I didn’t know what it meant until after we’d had sexual contact. All those colors have multiple meanings. Red can mean anger or anxiety, gold can mean divine protection, silver, growth, purple can mean healing. None of them are out of place in your soul, in fact they’re pretty common to see in you, it was the shape of them that caught my attention. Usually your soul is...I don’t know how to describe it really...like a vaguely you shaped blob of color. Sometimes, when you’re feeling something really strongly, it takes on a more definitive edge, this was like...well, like when you throw a log into a fire and it sends up sparks for a second before the flames settle back down. It was always too fast for me to examine.”

“That actually sounds, kinda awesome.”

“It is, it really is.”

~~~~~

Dean had finally dragged Cas out of bed with the promise of pancakes. They’d agreed that Cas could bless the ingredients, though Dean had offered, because Cas’ grace was unlikely to be directly affected by the spell.

“It’s not that I don’t love how open you are when you’re bespelled Dean, it’s just...I’d rather know you’re sharing things that you want to share.”

Dean had tried to explain that there was no compulsion, just no fear of side effects, but the angel had been insistent. Dean had yielded.

He’d dug out all of the ingredients and while Cas did the blessing, he went to find Sam. He wanted to be sure his little brother got his fill of the Dean and Cas show so he’d stop the teasing. He located him in the library, and told him they’d be serving in ten minutes.

Brother inbound, he rejoined Cas in the kitchen. It seemed his angel really did like to watch him cook. “You got a thing for me in the kitchen Cas?”

His angel laughed and leaned over to brush the flour off his shirt. “I have a ‘thing’ for you looking happy Dean, and you always look happy when you’re cooking breakfast for us.”

Dean flushed a little. “I like feeding my family, making sure everyone is taken care of. Food is important.” He continued mixing the batter, then greased the skillet.

“Breaking bread together has been a sign of solidarity since the dawn of mankind. It is a very important social act.”

“You make it sound so formal.”

“It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. When food was scarce, sharing a meal was definitely a sign of trust or intimacy...family. But even in good times, sharing abundance was reserved for friends, or developing trust. Making a meal for someone is a deeply meaningful act Dean.”

Sam came in at the tail end of his sentence. “Whoa. I don’t really think I need to hear about ‘deeply meaningful acts.’”

Dean shot Cas a wink and leaned in for a kiss. His angel grinned and wrapped his hands behind his neck, pulling him close. It was meant to be a chaste kiss, but when their lips touched, the rest of the room kind of...faded from Dean’s mind. They might have gotten a little carried away. Tongues were definitely involved.

“Oh my God you guys! Seriously, I was kidding. I don’t need to see you do it! Gabe! Gabe, there’s porn in the kitchen!”

Gabe popped into the chair next to Sam. “Where?”

Sam gestured to where he and Cas were now leaning together by the stove.

“Dammit Sam, we’re still in our pajamas!”

Cas chuckled and waved his hands. He and Dean were instantly clothed in jeans and faded t-shirts.

“Sam, I think we need to talk about your definition of porn.”

“Shut up Gabriel, I was just trying to get them to stop making out in the kitchen.”

“Ahhh, and I missed it?”

“Dude, he’s my brother!”

“Shut up Sam, it’s not like you’ve never seen it before.”

“No, I really haven’t. Not like that man, you guys were like trying to climb into each other or something. It was like...really awkwardly cute and hot at the same time. Like that!” He waved wildly between the two of them. Dean raised his eyebrow and Cas just laughed. “Gabe, did you see that?”

Gabe looked at Sam like possibly he was possessed.

“The eye fucking. It’s dirty. I really, really don’t need to see that.”

“Sam, I once walked in on you fucking Ruby doggy style. You have exactly zero room to complain.” Dean turned back to the stove.

“That was just fucking, this is...it’s intimate.”

Dean flipped the first batch of pancakes onto a plate and brought them to the table. Cas followed with plates and silverware.

Gabe was shaking his head. “So let me summarize. Your brother seeing you actually having sex with somebody is okay because it was just a physical act. You seeing your brother kissing my brother is not okay because there’s...emotion involved?”

“Exactly.”

Dean walked over and planted a loud kiss on Cas’ lips, then rubbed their noses together, grinning. “Better get used to it man. I’ve got a live in boyfriend now.”

Sam groaned and Cas just laughed.

Dean waved his spatula at the pancakes. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold, whiner.”

Things calmed down once they were finally eating. Cas made little noises of enjoyment, which made Dean squirm which made Gabriel laugh and Sam groan, but other than that, no further comment was made about Dean’s boyfriend situation. Dean considered it a win. He’d also scored a new way to completely gross Sam out, and those were few and far between, so he tucked that knowledge away for later use.

When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Dean led the way to the crates. “Sorry Gabe, you’re back on the shit list for getting Cas all worked up about the spell.”

“Still thinking I’d rather have breakfast than a present Dean, so I’m okay with that.”

Cas and Sam unwrapped new winter jackets, insulated Carhartt. He’d gotten Sam’s in black and Cas’ in navy. “I know your trench coat is plenty warm, but you look cold in it. And I have one just like this in green.”

Cas just smiled and hugged his coat. “This will look much nicer with my new jeans. Thank you Dean.”

“You guys are just gross.”

“Shut up Sam. Go get some clothes on, we’re gonna teach these guys how to make snow angels.”

~~~~~

They’d gotten bundled up and tromped out behind the bunker. Gabriel’s sledding hill had disappeared, and their snow family had reappeared with a noticeable haloed addition.

Sam laughed and pointed. “I have never, ever, seen an angel with halo Gabe.”

“Had to do something so you’d know it was me.” Gabe grinned.

“Is that a snow angel then?” Cas asked.

“Not even close. That is a snowman, masquerading as an angel. This is a snow angel.” Dean fell straight back into the snow and waved his arms up and down until the snow was well packed around him. He sat up carefully and raised his arms so Cas could help him up. “See? It’s got wings.” Dean grinned at him.

“Those are not wings. I’ll show you wings.” Gabriel repeated Dean’s fall, but kept his arms close to his side. He blinked, and two huge wings appeared at his side. He hopped up on his own grinning.

Dean looked stricken.

“No. Nope.” Sam stepped between Dean and Gabriel’s “angel.” Cas snapped his fingers and it was gone.

“What?” Gabriel looked between the three men.

“Think about it man.” Sam whisper-yelled at him.

“It looked like a fucking corpse you assbutt.” Cas gritted out.

“Oh, shit. Dean. I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

Dean just shook his head, trying to clear it of the the memory of Cas’ wings stretched out like that. Cas pulled him into a tight hug.

“You just need to see Cassie’s real wings. I swear, they’re actually awesome.”

“He can’t you idiot. Eyes burning out of their sockets ring a bell?” Sam was too busy being protective of his big brother to pretend to be grossed out at the show of affection.

“Not if I help they won’t, idiot.” Gabe shot back. He closed his eyes and started chanting in Enochian.

Cas whirled to face him. “Gabriel, you don’t spell people without permission.” Dean followed him with his eyes. His angel, pissed, was a sight not to be missed, or taken lightly.

Gabriel continued chanting for a few seconds longer, then stopped with a wave of his hands. He squinted his eyes open. “Did it work?”

Both Dean and Sam looked shocked. “I’m guessing it worked.” Cas moved back to his hunter and gripped his shoulder. “Dean, I can explain-”

“Dude, your wings are awesome.” At the tone of Dean’s voice, Cas glanced over his shoulder. When he’d last looked at his wings, they’d been torn and burned. Functional, but barely. Now, they looked, at worst, in need of a good grooming. When he glanced back at Dean, he was still staring at the black appendages. He looked away, flushing, only to see Sam staring at Gabriel’s larger, golden wings with equal intensity.

“Can I touch them?” Sam asked, awe clear in his voice.

Gabriel laughed. “Not without buying me dinner first.”

“Huh?”

“An angel’s wings are...sensitive. Exposing them isn’t really...Grooming is very…” Cas trailed off.

“What my brother is rather eloquently trying to say is that angels rarely expose their wings to humans. They’re part of our true form. An angel can grant a human the ability to ‘gaze upon them’ without getting his eyeballs singed out, but we don’t usually, unless we have a really good reason. Nobody touches an angel’s wings except the angel himself, outside of grooming. They’re very, well, sensitive is a good word for it, to touch. Grooming is...usually not a communal act. It’s kinda like cleaning yourself in the shower. You don’t exactly let just any random stranger clean your junk for you.”

“It’s intimate.” Sam said.

“Yes.”

“Like sex.”

“Yes. And not the kind you don’t care if your brother sees.” Gabriel teased Sam.

Sam, who’d still had his arm stretched partially toward Gabe’s wings, suddenly pulled it back like he’d been burned. He flushed red.

“Don’t want to touch ‘em anymore Sammy?” Gabriel said with a laugh.

Sam just flushed deeper red.

Dean, who’d been listening without looking away from Cas’ wings, finally looked back at Cas. “True?” He asked simply. Cas nodded.

“How long does it last?”

“About an hour.” Cas said.

“Until Cassie turns it off,” Gabe corrected him. Cas’ gaze whipped to his brother. Gabe shrugged. “Archangel, Cassie, I’m smarter than the average bear.”

 Dean grabbed Cas’ wrist and turned toward the bunker, tugging at Cas to follow. Cas caught on quickly, and they popped out of sight.

Sam looked at Gabriel, his eyes wide.

“Count yourself lucky, Samalam, at least you won’t have to watch.”

~~~~~

Cas flew them to Dean’s room, but planted himself on the opposite side of the bed from his hunter.

“Dean. Gabriel’s assessment of grooming was not exactly accurate.” He held his hands up when Dean looked like he was going to crawl across the bed to get to him.

“So, tell me in your own words Cas, tell me about grooming.”

Just hearing Dean say the word nearly had Cas groaning. His mind was flooded with memories of his care with the Christmas tree and the fantasies it had sparked. He swallowed roughly.

“Grooming is a deeply intimate act.”

“Like sex.”

“No. Yes. Not the way you’re thinking. It’s not about reaching orgasm, although I’ve heard that can be a result if grooming occurs when inhabiting a vessel.”

“Then what is it? Because it sounds to me a hell of a lot like spending hours, hours exploring your wings. Touching every one of your feathers, making sure sure they’re lying exactly the way they should. It sounds like taking care of you in a way that nobody else does.”

Cas knew he’d chosen his words purposefully to mirror his own to Dean at the pond, and more importantly, that he’d understood how Cas thought of grooming. “I’ve never let anyone groom my wings for me.” He said it quietly.

“I’ve never spent hours worshiping a lover.” Dean was equally quiet.

“You would want that?”

“I told you Cas, I want everything with you.”

Cas was next to Dean in a blink, clinging to his hunter. Dean tugged him close, but didn’t lean in for a kiss, just held him tightly, their bodies pressed together head to toe, breathing each other in. Dean carefully avoided touching his feathers, though Cas let his wings relax perilously close to his hands.

“Will you groom my wings for me?” He whispered it into his hunter’s chest.

Dean just tugged at his jacket. “I think you’re a little overdressed, don’t you?”

Castiel took a step back and shrugged out of his coat. Dean mirrored his action. They sat at opposite ends of the bed to remove their boots. Cas hesitated before pulling his t-shirt over his head. Dean watched, fascinated, as it seemed to slip through his wings. He motioned Cas to the bed. “If you lay on your stomach and spread them out, I can reach better.”

“You’re not going to take off your shirt?”

“Nah, this is about you Cas, I can get at your feathers just fine with my clothes on.”

“It’s just...I feel very exposed.”

“Cas, I will strip down and groom you naked if that’s what you need. I just want to take care of you.”

“I would like it if you would remove your shirt, and...maybe your pants. I’d like to feel your skin with my feathers...it’s...they’re mine, a manifestation of my true form.” The idea of being able to feel his hunter without the filter of his vessel was...exhilarating.

Cas stripped out of his jeans and socks and quickly lay on the bed as Dean had requested while the other man removed his own clothing. He spread his wings the small amount that the room would allow, thankful that his wings were smaller in physical form than in in their projected form Still, they brushed the boundaries of the room before being extended fully.

He could feel Dean studying him. He was ashamed at the state that they were in...he hadn’t bothered with grooming much when his wings were so badly broken… but grateful that Gabriel had healed them. It was an impressive gift, and one he hadn’t known the archangel was capable of giving. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for Dean.

“I don’t know where to start.” Cas sucked in a breath at his hesitation. He could see how badly Dean wanted to get it right.

“There’s not really a wrong place, but I usually start in the middle and work my way out.”

Dean crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips, he could feel the skin of his legs against his chest when he drew a breath.

“Okay, tell me if I do something you don’t like.” Cas just nodded.

Dean gently stroked the skin of his back, between his wings, as if familiarizing himself with it’s resilience, and it dawned on Cas that despite their mutually satisfying encounter the day before, they had never really touched without at least a layer of cloth separating them. He breathed in a quiet gasp, and Dean stopped.

“No, I like it, it’s just...new.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s voice was gravely and low as he returned to his exploration of skin. He worked his way back up to the top of Cas’ back and finally, finally, ran the tips of his fingers over the very edges of his marginal coverts, brushing the joint between skin and feather. Cas moaned deeply and Dean drew back with a light hiss.

“Did it hurt?” they asked the question simultaneously.

Dean chuckled and answered first. “No, but man, it sent very pleasant tingles straight to my dick.”

“An...accurate assessment of the feeling.”

“Yeah?” Dean sounded pleased.

“Yes. Please, Dean…”

Dean settled his weight on the top of Cas’ butt and and leaned over for better access, he balanced himself with a hand between his shoulder blades, and carded his fingers through the same feathers, from skin to the edge of his marginals, seeming to sense where the feathers changed before stopping. The pressure was perfect, the tips of his hunter’s scarred fingers brushing into his down, the thicker parts of his digits smoothing the barbs along the vanes. Cas could only whimper. He’d groomed himself many times, but having someone else, Dean, touching his feathers...it was unlike anything he could have imagined. Dean seemed to take the sound as encouragement, repeating the motion again and again until he’d finished with the marginal coverts, Cas felt boneless, and the hunter hadn’t even finished with a quarter of the first side of one wing. When Dean paused and leaned back, Cas grumbled.

“Just checking…” Dean took the base of a single feather between his thumb and forefinger, and gently pulled toward the tip, ensuring that barbs were perfectly smooth. Cas couldn’t hold back his groan. Dean stroked the skin of his back gently with his thumb while he repeated the motion with several more feathers before he moved on to the secondary coverts. Cas’ body was humming with sensation. Every touch and stroke was a caress directly to his grace. It felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. He noticed Dean shifting away and a small pained noise escaped him.

“Not stopping baby, just can’t reach.” He smoothed this skin of Cas’ back again as he moved away, careful not to accidentally kneel on the newly groomed feathers. Cas lowered his wings slightly so they brushed against Dean’s thigh as he walked around to the top of the wing he was studying. “Jesus, Cas.” He sounded short of breath.

He positioned himself near Cas’ alulae, which he had spread wide. He skipped those feathers though, digging his fingers through the section of his wider primary coverts, top to bottom, smoothing through his down, caressing the barbs into place with the joints of his fingers and palm.. Cas’ gave up on controlling the motion of his body. It was just to much effort. His his twitched down into the mattress with the first pinch of an individual feather.

Dean gave each primary individual attention, starting with the largest and working inwards, through the primaries and secondaries and finishing with the small section of tertials. He paused again for a second before leaning forward across Cas’ wing to reach his three wriggling alulae. “Don’t want to forget these guys.”

He stroked the most sensitive feathers with absolute precision, careful not to tug even as Cas flicked them away reactively. The sensation, paired with the hunter’s chest pressing down on Cas’ wing made him buck his hips. “Deeean” the sound was ripped from him, a cross between a moan and a shout.

“Don’t get too worked up love, we’ve got a long way to go.” His hunter was sounding downright smug at this point. When Dean had settled his weight over his butt to start with his second wing, Cas gave a quick thrust up, dragging the top of his ass along the hunter’s shaft. Dean groaned and pressed his own butt down more firmly. Cas smirked.

“Cas,” he started, his tone dark, “You start that and we ain’t gonna finish. I’ll stop right now.” Cas grunted, but settled back into the mattress, hips still.

Dean worked the second wing over, more quickly for being more confident in his ability to bring pleasure, but with no less care. He stroked the alulae as soon as he took his position to start on the outer edges of the second wing, rather than teasing Cas this time. When he’d finished with the tertials, he patted Cas on the ass. “Flip.”

Cas rolled over and repositioned his wings carefully. Even without his hunter’s touch, they were buzzing with residual sensation, and the lightest brush against the sheet had him hissing. He was too blissed out to even care about the tent in his boxers. Dean wandered back to the other side of the bed, assessing the situation. He took hold of Cas’s elbow gently, and tugged his arm across his body until he was leaning on his side. Nodding to himself, he worked through the ultra sensitive axillars and his anterior marginal coverts before rolling him to his other side and repeating the same sections. Seemingly satisfied that he could reach the rest of his feathers from a central location, he guided Cas back to lying flat before crawling onto the bed. Cas watched as Dean hesitated for a second then once again straddling his hips. He was careful not to press his weight down, and Cas could see that the situation in Dean’s boxer briefs was as prominent as his own.

Dean glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “You good?” Cas could see the love and lust swirling in his eyes.

Cas nodded. “Sooo, good Dean.” Dean smiled. He looked truly happy, not smug the angel realized, that he could wring out such pleasure from his lover.

Dean leaned forward slowly, his arms stretched out in front of him, and Cas braced for his weight. Nothing, not a thing in heaven or on earth, could have prepared him for the joint sensation of Dean’s cock pressing against his as he slid his fingers into both wings. Cas’ hips shot up uncontrollably, increasing the pressure where their groins met, and both men groaned heavily, Dean’s hands frozen in his feathers.

“Pleease.” Cas gritted out. Not bothering to control the rocking of his hips. “Dean.” His voice sounded wrecked, even to his own ears.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second, his body held perfectly still. Slowly, he reopened his eyes and restarted the motion of his hands, answering each of Cas’ thrust with one of his own. When Cas didn’t think he could take any more, Dean paused for a second, seeming to assess his work. A dangerous looked crossed his face before he was leaning forward again, pressing his weight into Cas cock to stomach to chest to shoulder, finally, bringing their lips together. Cas sighed at the relief of his oversensitive feathers, his eyes fluttering closed. He missed Dean reaching out. The hunter’s sudden loose grip on his alulae shocked him over the edge, tumbling into his orgasm with a shout. Dean rode down hard against him, shouting his own release.

They came down from the high slowly, Dean gently caressing the skin of Cas’ arms, chest, and sides, careful to avoid Cas’ still fluttering feathers, and pressing soft kisses to his face. When Cas finally opened his eyes, his hunter was staring down at him, a small smile on his face.

“That was…” He trailed off, there weren’t really words for how deeply satisfying that had been.

Dean’s smile just widened. “Yeah, it was.” He shifted a little, then leveraged him weight back onto his knees groaning a bit at their stiffness.

“Would you mind if I put them away? They’re so sensitive that the air is almost painful. These sheets feel like sandpaper.”

“I can’t even imagine. Besides, I want to cuddle, and I don’t want to lay on your wings. But…”

“I’ll bring them out again, some other time Dean.” He reassured his hunter.

“Okay then, do your thing.” Cas tucked his wings back into their dimension then touched Dean’s knee, relieving the stiffness and cleaning up their mess.

“Hmmm. Perks of having an angel boyfriend. Might have to keep you around.”

Cas flopped back onto the bed. “You’re stuck with me now. What’s that saying? ‘Once you go Cas, you never go back.’”

Dean snorted out a surprised laugh and snuggled into his side. Cas draped his arms around his hunter and tugged him closer, burying his own smile in Dean’s hair. He was almost startled when he heard Dean’s silent prayer.

Cas? Thanks for letting me do that. I love you. His hunter buried his face more firmly into his chest.

He whispered his reply. “It could have only ever been you Dean, I love you too.”

[dcddyrecper]

*Sends every single headcanon symbol from the last meme* :3

Send ❂ for a like headcanon.Death has a certain regard for people whom catch his fancy. He might find them cute, in their actions. Interesting or over all view them as more than a insect sitting at the table with him. (Especially in Dean's case, Death find's him cute, he thinks he see's the big pictures and he fails, but its human to fail, and its Dean's humanity that draws him. It's the same way in most cases, their is always something "shiny" about certain people.

Send ✄ for a favorite movie of my muse’s.Does watching humanity count as a movie..NO ? oh well... When he actually take in the cinema it's usually something one of his friends managed to drag him too. His favorite movie he's seen is the Crow, there was just something about the way the lines were delivered and how heavy the story line effected the crew that draw him to it. He personally went for Brandon Lee.

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.

Send ✚ for one of my muse’s prized possessions.Many would assume his ring of status, this isn't so. One of Dee's most prized possessions is his Cadillac with the BUh-Bye license plate, no one ever said the Grim Reaper's white horse doesn't have a sense of humor. When Dee himself, never takes himself to seriously...his pale horse..another matter entirely. Still, its been his steed forever, and he does love it. In fact he feels bad for people who try to steal or vandalize it.

He's pretty sure Stephen King must have had an encounter with his car or one similar when he wrote Christine.

Send ✿ for a happy memory.It was Halloween he was in full Grim Reaper Regalia and he and Flip were working the night. Those who tormented little trick or treater’s were his prey. It never helped that anyone who screamed in shock and terror when he pulled the hood of his black robes back to expose the skeleton skull, than ran into the true mischief for the night.

On particularly rotten child. Who had never seen anything but the naughty list, had been bullying some children on his block.  So Dee had initially only set out to give him a small scare. The boy had insisted he was in a dime store costume--now Dee wasn't certain for sure what a dime store costume was, but the tone implied it was disrespectful. So he REALLY set out to scare the hell out of this child.

Knowing a certain Fairy absolutely helped. So when the pumpkins had animated and chased him into his yard. Than the shadows had risen when his parents reassured him their was nothing in the shadows. That is was all his imagination. No one said Fairy magic was just shimmer and shine. With the creaking of boards, and whispers of voices never quiet full sentences, and the weight of someone sitting on the bed next to him when no one was their.

It might have been gaslighting him--a little, but it was a wake up call.

The boy had assured himself it was ALL a DREAM but the next morning he paled even more. On his pillow in Flip's whimsical script was SEE YOU NEXT YEAR.

Send ♡ for a friendship headcanon. Friendships last forever with Dee, he remembers every single friend he ever had back to the start of what ever it was he and God were before they were what they are now. Dee take's his friendships very seriously, they are glimmers of humanity, and that he can care for people is always a marvel to him. So he is loyal to the memory. The person is never dead if not forgotten, and he knows excactly when a person is back in the gene pool, or when they have gone to a final rest. He always personally comes to get a friend. He feels its the least he can do as they have been his friend.  He might even call up a memory of who a person was, before they are who they are now.

Send ♬ for a childhood headcanon.He doesn't recall being a child, however, he does recall when the angels were children. His favorite was always Gabriel, the little trickster he had a certain air about him that Dee liked. The ability to not take himself to seriously.  Though it had to be said before he became a complete brat, Lucifer was also on his favorites list. Than he betrayed the trust and friendship that Dee had for him.

So the childhood memory he has is theirs, and it was when it rained for seven days and seven nights. God was much more wrathful back then, and he tasked the little angels with gathering people they'd like to see survive and place them on an island far away from the flooding--what became of them, who they became can only be guessed at--Dee acknowledge's nothing.

Send ☼ for a dream headcanon.Do things like Dee dream ? The answer is yes all things dream even if they do not recall it. His dreams span more than one galaxy. His dreams can spawn the worst of nightmares, yet--these never really effect him. When he is in the throes of nightmares, a whole village may well suffer from them. So he often secludes himself away. What can scare Death, very little. The nightmares are suffered by him but not his as he is in a state of awakened dreaming even when he is "Sleeping". Sometimes they can stir him enough to wake up. Other times not so much. The fears and terrors of humanity are what he experiences, as he has to, so he can better guide those on their final journey. Luckily, his entombment is very rare.

Send ♧ for a cooking headcanon.SHOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED NEAR A KITCHEN MUCH LESS IN IT...Ahem... As has been noted before, Dee makes himself accountable for the fire that broke out in Chicago. The Windy City was not accounted for when he attempted ..and is was an attempt, but the struggle was real. While he has infinate knowledge. He had no real practical skill of HOW to do the cooking, and well--mistakes were made. Send ❧ for a food headcanon.Dee love's food, of all kinds and any kinds. He often brings rare (and strange) treats from all over his travels to his friends. No really don't thank him. he sometimes forgets that the human body might not be able to handle some of the things he returns with -OPPS- always ask what's in it if it doesn't look like anything you've ever seen!.

Send ★ for a talent headcanon.While some people might not be aware. Dee is actually a very skilled Doctor, this is a talent for him as he rarely has a reason to use or practice the skill. He often carries a fully stocked doctor bag and is quiet capable even without his magic, of tending to the wounded, surgery all that entails. Very few people would know this of him as he's fairly closed mouth about the life he lives when he has his one day as a mortal. Send ❀ for a crush my muse has had.Anyone who thinks Dee has any form of game is deluding themselves. He wasn't even aware he could experience more intense love than the general affection for his friends and others. So when he first met his wife and he was smitten he didn't know how to tell her he liked her let alone that he was Death. She already knew, the perceptive type she was, and she gifted him with a small heart held by skeletal hands, and this is how he came to have a wife.  Send △ for a sex headcanon.-blank stare- All right so here we go. Dee doesn't actually have a gender, he is comfortable as a male or a female. He has worn both forms.  He was never particular interested in sex. It wasn't something that came up really. He's a primordial "thing" and the concept of being that entangled with anything was rather unappealing, or he thought this way until he fell in love with his wife. Than he had these emotions he had to work through, his feelings that he couldn't examine, why did he want to touch her , to hold her hand. To be near her. It was taxing trying to figure it out to be sure.

Send ➷ for a sports headcanon.Dee can kick box...he sarcastically asked Castial if they should kick box now. However, there was a point where it might have been an interest and he learned it.

Send ♤ for a ‘dislike’ headcanon.Please stop messing up the natural balance. He's had about enough this century to be sure. The Winchesters, Lucifer...all these people tossing off the cosmic balance. They really don't understand how much work they make for him. Which is troubling.

Send ♆ for something my muse hates.Being Bound...you want to find yourself on the wrathful side of Death, bind him. He can hold a grude--FOREVER.

Send ⊗ for a phobia headcanon.Death has no phobia's but he finds the fact that people have them to be intriguing.

Send ☾ for a sleep headcanon.He doesn't really have to sleep when his wife is tired though he likes to curl around her and cradle her close against him. He really doesn't take up a lot of space in a bed, but he finds it soothing and a comfort.

Send ✜ for a fear headcanon.I am just going to point to his fond memory--Dee particularly likes to make people who are rotten  but have a chance to change, fearful.

Send ☠ for a death headcanon.He is there for you, when it is your time. If you have questions, he has answers. Rest assured it is not Dust In The Wind. -ahem-

Send ◊ for a headcanon of the mun’s choice.X Dee's favorite health food is fish, and his favorite type is catfish

[petrovakitten-blog]

Casifer x reader

(gif not mine)

Characters: Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel & You

Pairings: Casifer x Reader

Warnings: pregnant reader, Michael is the baby’s father, ooc archangels

Your miracle pregnancy reached the end of its first month. All the pregnancy related things that had gone relatively smoothly up until then, went downhill, fast.

The morning sickness started and knew no end. It was mid-morning and you were where you normally were – hunched over the toilet.

"Y/N…"

You would have shook your head and made a valiant attempt to ward him off, but sudden movement caused the room to spin so your arms flailed and then dropped. You didn't want him to see you like this. Your stomach heaved again.

You felt your hair lifted from your shoulders, cool air brushing the back of your neck. There was a rustle, the swoosh of a trench coat hitting the floor somewhere and then a cool cloth was pressed to your face.

"All done?" he asked, now kneeling on the tiled floor beside you.

"For now. What a bitch." You dragged air into your lungs. "I'm a mess. Miracle baby pregnancy sucks."

He chuckled and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You sat back on your knees and he let your face go. He was smiling.

"What's so funny?"

"You don't think it's amusing that we are both sprawled leisurely beside a toilet?"

"Well, you are in a suit." You groaned. "A very expensive suit."

"Three piece actually. It's a favourite."

You felt a pang, even though you knew he was teasing. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head imperceptibly. "I will always protect you."

You rolled your eyes. He always reminded you of this fact. "Protect me from a toilet bowl?"

"From anything."

His tone, coupled with the look in his eyes had your stomach lurch. He rose to his feet, extending his warm, upturned palm towards you. When you looked up at him, you realised that the queasy feeling in the pit of your belly had nothing to do with miracle baby morning sickness and everything to do with the unrelenting charm of Lucifer.

The first time you felt a fluttering in your stomach, you were alone. You had read about what it would feel like. Was this the baby moving? Standing, stupefied, this was how Lucifer found you.

"Are you alright?"

You raised your head, a confused look in your eyes and he frowned.

"I think… I think I feel the baby moving."

You watched his eyes flick to the swell of your stomach as he automatically took a step towards you.

On instinct, you reached for his hand and placed it where the feeling persisted.

"Can you feel that?"

His brow furrowed with concentration, and he moved closer, placing his free hand on the curve of your waist. You positioned both of your hands over his, moving its position slightly. Eventually, he shook his head. "I cannot." His disappointment was palpable. "But I can hear its heartbeat."

"Sometimes," you confessed in a low whisper, "I'm not sure whether I want this baby. I mean," you rushed on, "I wonder about what kind of mother I will be. And then a moment like this happens and I am overwhelmed with… affection, I guess, for a child I considered aborting. I could screw this kid up in a million different ways."

The hand at your waist moved to stroke gently down your cheek. You leaned into his touch and briefly closed your eyes. When you opened them, Lucifer forced you to meet his gaze head on, his finger under your chin.

"You will be a wonderful mother." When he said it like that, you could almost believe him.

"And what about this baby's father? Michael tolerates me-"

He shrugged. "You are in the company of family. I will always protect you and this baby. Always."

"Lucifer…"

He gently pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. You stood like that for a long time. You wanted it to last forever.

When you were six months pregnant, Michael stumbled into the mansion with a bloodied Lucifer.

"What the hell?!" There was blood everywhere.

"No need to worry love. Just a few scrapes."

You rushed forward but Michael had already veered towards the sofa, depositing his brother. Lucifer was unconscious, his dark suit bloodied.

"What the hell did you do?" you demanded.

Fire kindled in his eyes and his lips thinned. "Nothing. Just caught in the crossfire between the Winchesters and that pesky witch Rowena."

You kneeled beside Lucifer, temporarily distracted when Michael stormed from the room.

"Hey! Where are you going? He could be seriously hurt!"

"To teach someone a lesson. Cheer up, my brother is an archangel remember. So we know he won't die." The door slammed shut so hard, the windows rattled.

Your attention returned to Lucifer and your touched your hand to his forehead.

"Lucifer?" you called. "Lucifer."

His pristine suit was bloodied, his tie askew. A smile curved your lips at the sight. He always prided himself on looking impeccably groomed. You reached down and tugged at the knot, loosening the ruined piece of silk.

"I am bloodied and bruised and you tower over me with smiles."

"Are you alright? What happened? Michael brought you in and dumped you on the sofa before hightailing it out of here. Asshole."

He shook his head. "Just caught in the crossfire."

Your hands stilled, resting on his chest. He frowned but reached out a hand, pushing a dark/light curl behind your ear. "You're on the floor."

You rolled your eyes. "I am pregnant. Pregnant people are allowed to kneel."

"My back is in spasms," You complained as you lowered yourself into a cushioned sofa. It was late and you sat in the study.

"I can't imagine being pregnant," Gabriel said as he eyed the large belly. "Look at the size of your ankles! And dragging around all those additional kilograms."

"And just like that, whatever self esteem I had left has evaporated." You laughed.

Lucifer sat on the arm of the sofa across from you and chuckled as he sipped from a crystal tumbler.

"But, one thing I will say, in aid of your self esteem, is that your skin looks bloody amazing." Gabriel moaned with envy.

"You glow," Lucifer said, his gaze fixed on you. You squirmed a little, not sure if it was your back or the seriously sexy look of the archangel across from you.

"She does, doesn't she." Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Although, not even the promise of your glow would tempt me."

You shifted again, trying to get comfortable.

"What is the matter?"

"It's just hard to get comfortable when I'm carrying the eight month old miracle baby inside of me."

Gabriel rose. "I'm off to bed." He paused beside you and placed his hands on your rounded stomach. You had learned early on that your belly belonged to all of the archangels. Even Michael enjoyed feeling the child move. "Goodnight my nephilim little niece or nephew. I still can't believe you do not want to know the gender."

"Everything else about this pregnancy has been a damned surprise. Might as well have this one be as well."

Gabriel blew the belly a kiss and left, leaving you alone with Lucifer.

You shifted and grimaced. "Where is Michael?"

Lucifer lifted a brow, placing his empty glass on a nearby table. "Where is my brother usually?"

"Usually? Making someone, somewhere incredibly unhappy," you said in jest.

Lucifer laughed softly and sat beside you. He placed a large cushion on your lap and met your querying gaze.

"Lean into the pillow. Come on. It will help."

You shifted forward and leaned into the softness on your lap. He moved even closer and you felt his hands move on your lower back. He rubbed gently and you bit your lip, a small, low moan of endless pleasure escaping.

"Oh. That feels amazing."

He didn't reply, only continued to rub rhythmically. Eventually, your head lolled to the side and you jerked awake. You had fallen asleep.

"Enough of this then." His hands stopped.

"Oh no, please. I will beg. Don't make me." You pulled a face that was ridiculously close to a pout. You couldn't even muster up the nerve to be embaressed.

"Bed time, I think," he said firmly. "Come." You didn't know how, but within the blink of an eye the pillow was gone and you were swung into his arms.

"Oh!"

It was unusual to be this close to him. You could not get yourself to regret it though. If your time in this family had taught you anything, it was that Lucifer could be good. And somewhere between taking in a pregnant stray, dealing with his volitile brother, running interference between Gabriel and both brothers, you had fallen in love with him.

It was no surprise. You had a track record of making stupid decisions. But this wasn't a decision you'd made. It just happened. And now there was nothing that could be done about it.

When he lowered you to the floor beside your bed, you placed her hands on his shoulders for balance. This late in the evening, he only had on a shirt, no tie, his trench coat long discarded. You smiled a little. Seeing him this dishevelled was a highlight of your day.

"I think I can take it from here," you whispered, eyes fixed on the bump between the two of you.

"The child is active this evening," he said, his head also lowered, his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"Mmm." You met his gaze, your eyes giving your consent. "Like all of you, this baby seems to like the night time."

The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth as his large hands gently touched the firm mound. He laughed huskily when the baby kicked, a ridge forming where some body part pressed.

"I'll never get over how freaky that is."

"It's a miracle," he said earnestly. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For being here. For sharing this gift."

You shrugged. "It's not like I had a choice."

"I know."

For no good reason, tears popped into your eyes and you blinked them back. He raised your chin and slowly, deliberately placing his lips to yours. The kiss was chaste really. But the sweetest moment of your life, you realised.

"Good night."

When you opened your eyes, he was gone.

They say you forget the pain of childbirth the minute you hold your child in your arms. It was bullshit. But now, a month after the birth of your son, you could honestly say that you would do it all again. He was perfect. And he was a nephilim.

While you and Michael would never be close, the birth of their son had brought with it a tangible truce. You still fought like hell, but you also laughed together sometimes.

It was almost midnight and you had just changed the baby's diaper. Michael had requested - you’d barely believed it - that the boy be called Castiel - although he was informally called Cas. The name was in honour of the archangels’ brother, a sibling whose fall from heaven Michael had always felt responsible for.

There was a knock at the door and you frowned. It was late. Not even Michael bothered you at this hour.

It was Lucifer. "Apologies," he said when you opened the door. "I heard him cry and thought to check in."

You turned your son in your arms and deep brown eyes were barely visiable as his lids drooped.

"Actually, would you mind? I need to go to the toilet. I've needed to go for the last hour. But he was feeding and-"

Castiel was gently, but firmly, removed from your arms. For a minute, you watched Lucifer hold him and your heart squeezed. Two dark heads pressed together.

When you returned a few minutes later, he sat on the side of the bed and Cas was fast asleep. You sat down beside him and you both stared at the boy.

"He is a powerful nephilim," Lucifer said.

You nodded. "Michael is very proud."

"We all are," he said.

"Are you?" you asked breathlessly because his eyes were fixed on you, drawing you in.

You watched as he placed Cas in his crib before he straightened, placing both his hands in his pocket. It was his "thinking" stance you had come to learn.

"I find myself in quite a quandary these past months. I made a vow not to touch you while you carried Michael's child." Your heart raced and you stood too. "But now you have birthed him and I cannot be silent any longer."

He reached for you and cupped his hands to your face. "You are a delight and you have offered this family hope."

"I am forever the saviour," you said, disappointed. Would this be all you ever were to him?

"But perhaps," he said. "You have also saved me."

Your hands cupped his wrists as they rested by your face. "I don't understand-"

He placed his lips to yours and your knees almost buckled. You could barely breathe.

"I have vowed to protect you. To protect your son. Always. But I had no protection against you. I have fallen in love with you Y/N Y/L/N. And it is a complication we might both come to regret."

"Do you? Regret it?"

"Michae and Gabriel may suspect my feelings for you. But suspicion is not fact until there has been action. Now there has been. And yet, no, I have no regrets."

You pressed your lips to his this time and for a moment, you were both lost.

"I do not regret it either," you whispered. "You have protected me. And you have protected my son. I trust you with our lives. We both love you."

He touched his forehead to yours. "Michael might kill us both," he warned.

"Let him try."

You smiled at him as your arms wound around his back. You would deal with Michael in the morning.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Omen 6

A/n: no warnings 

Link to Chapter 5

Words: 3,739

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

______

“So I guess I'll see you, I'll see you around. I'm spinning while I'm falling down. Now you know why I'm begging you, I'm begging. Cause I can't stop it now. Its so amazing how, I know I can't, I could never walk away.” ~Cartel

After your nap, you went downstairs with Gabriel. It was painfully clear that Michael wanted nothing to do with either of you! Instead of talking to Gabriel, the eldest archangel simply glared at that two of you. Gabriel shrugged it off like Michael's behavior was no big deal.

You however, glared right back at Michael. The last thing that you wanted him to do was get comfy. You wanted him to know that you didn't like him. He had taken so much from you and the last thing that you wanted was for Michael to think that you had forgotten any of it!

Gabriel's eyes were looking between his brother and you. He heard every cold thought that you were shooting toward Michael.

“You have take so much from me. I don't care what universe you came from! You took my twin brother from me. I will never forgive you for what you have done to Gabe either! I want you to remember my face mother fucker because it will be the last thing that you see one day.”

Gabriel was worried how Michael would react to that one. When Michael didn't move a muscle and only starred at you, he felt better. Gabriel reached up pulling you onto his map.

“That's enough.”

He whispered longingly to you. All it took was a couple of kisses to completely have you like butter in the archangel's hands. Gabriel always knew how to make you forget what you were pissed at for the moment and focus on those talented lips of his.

Gabriel meanwhile, glanced at his brother who was busy watching the two of you make out. Michael's face showed nothing nut pure disgust. He stood a moment longer before storming out onto the porch.

Michael noticed Jack sitting on the porch.

“So what Gabriel and Y/n are doing...does this happen often?”

Jack looked up. His frowned before answering his uncle.

“You mean have sex quite loudly?”

Michael winced at his nephew's bluntness.

“Sure.”

Michael replied trying not to gag on his words. Jack meanwhile, nodded with a smile.

“A couple of times a day. My suggestion is to invest into some good earplugs. They are happy so I am happy.”

Michael groaned.

“Of course you take up for Gabriel and her.”

Michael's tone turned negative at the word “her.” Jack looked automatically offended but didn't move to get up.

“Well they help take care of me. You however, are stuffy”

Michael, realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with his nephew, walked back inside with a growl.

He froze again at the sight of Gabriel and yourself making out even more. Looking down, he smiled seeing Jody's decorative throw pillow on the couch. Michael raised an eyebrow before picking up the pillow and looked at the back of his brother's head. He slammed the pillow into the back of Gabriel's head.

It took all of two seconds for Gabriel to turn to face his brother.

“The hell was that for?”

Michael scowled at Gabriel.

“I don't want to see you with your tongue down her throat! Married people don't act like that.”

Gabriel chuckled.

“Jokes on you ass hat! We aren't married. Second, I'll put my tongue down her throat or other places anytime I damn well please.”

Michael looked like he could vomit! He had thought the two of you were married by the way that you were asking. That had been another part of his hostility to you. The last thing that he wanted was for his brother to be married to a dirty human!

“You mean that the two of you aren't married and acting like this? This disaster keeps getting worse!”

Gabriel smirked before looking back at you. He was glad to see that you were silently laughing at Michael.

“So sugar, want to marry me so Mr. Holier than thou doesn't have an aneurysm?”

You laughed ruffling Gabriel's messed up hair before standing up.

“You are so funny, Gabriel.”

He frowned looking up at you.

“I was serious.”

He said in a low displeased tone. You, however, knew better! Gabriel would never ask you to marry him. That as too much of a human thing! From the moment the two of you got together you immediately had the vibe that Gabriel wasn't the “settling down type.” Sure, he would stay with you as long as he could in addition to keeping you young and healthy but marriage? It wasn't happening.

You figured this behavior was just him trying to antagonize Michael.

“The day you marry me is the day I become an astronaut.”

You replied with a smile. Michael, meanwhile, looked between the two of you with almost a confused expression.

“Angels can't marry humans.”

He replied after a moment. Gabriel glowered at his brother.

“I do what I want.”

Michael rolled his eyes. He could see through Gabriel right now. His younger brother was beyond offended! He clearly expected you to say yes when he asked you to marry him. When you shot him down thinking this was just another one of his tricks, he was livid.

“Gabriel, we need to go see if we can find alternate me. As much as I enjoy witnessing you two and your domestic fluff, I have bigger fish to fry.”

You stopped in your tracks before turning to look at Gabriel. He stood up and was clearly having a silent conversation with his brother. Gabriel yanked on his leather jacket before turning to face you. He new right away you were panicking!

Gabriel was at your side in an instant and pulling you into his arms.  

“Y/n, please don't make this difficult. I will be home in a few days.”

You shook you head.

“I don't want you going anywhere with him.”

Michael frowned.

“Oh jeez, don't go anywhere with Michael! He's crazy!”

You nodded.

“At least you can admit it. Gabriel, please don't do this. You know I can't stand the thought of you going off anywhere with him. We just talked about this!”

Gabriel sighed.

“Y/n, I have to keep psycho Michael from coming here and hurting anyone. Its going to come down to this Michael and I to take care of the situation. Babe, I can handle myself. If it makes you feel better I will take Jack. You of all people know he can handle this.”

You nodded. If you trusted anyone to join that fucked up hunting party, it would be Jack. He could put Michael in his place quick!

“Fine.”

You muttered, looking down coldly. Gabriel pushed a strand of your hair away from your face and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I promise you I will be home soon. Trust me, okay?”

You nodded, still not feeling very trusting. Gabriel knew that you wasn't trusting a damn thing about this situation and it was dumb to ask for your trust. It was like him stabbing you in the leg and asking you not to bleed.  

“Maybe when I come back I can talk you into marrying me?”

You looked up at that. Gabriel's face was dead serious and it was making you wonder why he kept trying?

“Yeah, we'll see.”

You replied. Gabriel stepped closer tilting your chin to his face. His fingers traced over your cheek.

“I mean it baby. I want you to be mine forever.”

He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily. Gabriel had quickly realized the seriousness of the situation. He savored the moment, the way you felt against his body, and how you nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Enough lover boy.”

Michael snapped. Gabriel pulled away from you slowly.

“Stay here and don't go hunting”

Gabriel said calmly. He and Michael vanished before your eyes.

“And the nightmare continues.”

You said before going to the couch and laying down.

2 days later...

“Easy does it, Dean.”

Sam hissed as Dean carried you into Jody's living room. Dean looked over at his shoulder.

“Sam, I know how to handle this! I'm not going to drop her on the floor!”

Jody hand dropped the dish that she was watching before rushing in. Her face was immediately worried as she looked at you.

“What happened?”

You smiled down at your foot that was over Dean's shoulder.

“Vampire got a little handsy.”

You said with a grin. Jody quickly walked to the couch fixing a space as Dean sat you down. Jody carefully inspected you foot while Sam explained the whole situation. Had you not tried to be brave and rescue Sam, this may not had happened. You didn't care though. A hurt foot was better than your brother being dead!  

“Sweetie, I really think that your ankle is broken.”

“Fudge.”

You grumbled angrily. Now you knew that you were in for it! Not only were you injured but now you had no angels to heal you at the moment. That mean that Gabriel would find out that you were hurt! Cas had went to join his brothers. Jack was with them as well...you were screwed! Hopefully Cas or Jack would show up first so they could fix you up before Gabriel turned up,. You could already see the disapproving expression on your lovers face and already expect the lecture that you had coming!

Later that night, Gabriel, Jack, and Cas appeared in the living room near midnight. Gabriel smiled when he saw you curled up on the couch. Your face was snuggled into a pillow while clutching a soft blanket the way you held onto him at night.

Sam was passed out on the other couch while Dean sat beside you. He was half asleep while watching some western movie. Gabriel rolled his eyes and fought the urge to call Dean an old man. However, the urge to tease Dean stopped the moment that he saw the orthopedic boot on your right ankle.  

As soon as he was about to say something, your eyes fluttered open. You immediately smiled seeing him.

“Gabe!”

You said his name sleepily. Jody had given you some strong pain medication to knock out the pain in your ankle. Little did you know that you had no tolerance for hard core pain medication. It put you out like a light!

Gabriel raised an eyebrow before giving you that smile on contempt that he wore so well when you did something stupid. You internally winced knowing that he was well aware of your injury.

“Hi sugar, why don't you come kiss me? I've missed those pretty lips of yours.”

You sat motionless for a moment. Gabriel gave you a quizzical expression before tapping his foot. It was all over! You luck had ran out on you! Deep down you had been wishing that it was Cas that came home first so he could heal you really quick but nope! There stood you very annoyed looking archangel of a boyfriend looking at you with that all knowing expression.

As slowly as possible you gingerly stood. You made sure to put as much of your weight as you could on your good foot before limping your way toward Gabriel. His golden eyes immediately went to your bad foot.

“What happened?”

His voice was calm and even. Dean was looking between you two with wide eyes as you started to mumble your words together. Gabriel meanwhile, was busy playing dumb.

“What was that lovey? I can't hear you.”

You sighed.

“Its a funny story...I kinda...went hunting and a vampire broke it. He was big mother too! Bigger than Sam...if that gives good visuals. Well anyhow, that big mother fucker was bashing Sam into the floor. Just look at his handsome face! So I gave the big mother fuck a fist full of don't mess with my family. Mistakes were made and he snapped my ankle but don't worry the rest of me is good.”

Gabriel didn't smile. His face remained totally annoyed.

“You went hunting?”

You nodded, looking like a child who was about to be scolded by their parents. Gabriel sighed.

“Didn't I ask you not to go hunting?”

You nodded.

“I was bored and I missed you.”

You were trying to think of any sweet thing to say so that Gabriel wouldn't completely go bat shit. Gabriel chuckled.

“So getting your ankle broken by a vampire is what you do when you miss me? Y/n go upstairs and wait for me while I speak to your brothers.”

You quickly walked to the stairs saying “ow” after every step. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the next thing that you knew, you were on the bed. You wished that you could be listening to what Gabe was saying to your brothers. Part of you, however, knew that you really didn't want to!

Meanwhile,

Gabriel was glaring at Sam and Dean. Both of the Winchesters sat casually like they had done nothing wrong.

“What part of don't take her hunting baffles the two of you so much?!”

Dean shrugged.

“Shes a grown woman, Gabriel. Y/n knows how to hunt. Gabriel, you can't be with 24/7 to make sure that she doesn't harm herself!”

“Like hell I can!”

Gabriel snapped. Dean's looked a little creeped out at Gabriel's comment.

“Dude, that as kind of creepy. I don't like the idea of you watching my sister's every move. One word: Stalker.”

Gabriel blinked.

“Two words: Fuck you.”

Gabriel vanished immediately. Sam groaned before laying back down on the couch.

“I think you offended him.”

Dean rolled his eyes, not giving a good god damn!

“I don't don't care. I hate the idea of that son of a bitch with or sister. I just have to deal with it because she is happy!”

Sam smirked. He knew that Dean flinched every time that he say you and Gabe together. But he put his feelings in the closet so you could have your happiness.  

“What are you going to do when he asks her to marry him?”

Dean choked on his drink.

“Sam that will be the day that I die.”

Meanwhile,

You sat on the bed, not daring to move. Not only did it hurt too much but you knew Gabriel would be even more annoyed when you left the room. He had clearly put you here for a reason.

Gabriel appeared in the room after about 10 minutes. His face was still furious as he walked to you. “Let me see your ankle.”

You slowly put your foot out wincing as he took the boot off. Gabriel gently ran his fingers over the swollen purple bruise.

“Its definitely broken. Sugar, why do you have to keep putting yourself in danger?”

You was quiet a moment.

“Its because danger is kind of part of my life, I guess.”

Gabriel looked up at you sadly.

“I don't like this. Any time I am away from you this happens. I don't like seeing my girl hurt.”

He was kind of right there. Any time that Gabriel was away from you for any length of time and you went hunting you were getting hurt. Possibly you were getting hurt because your head really wasn't in your job. Your mind was off wondering where Gabriel was and missing him, which was clearly bad as a hunter!  

You reached down running your fingers over Gabriel's cheek. He looked like he could purr from the moment of contact alone.

“I'll be more careful. I love when you call me your girl.”

Gabriel smiled before healing your ankle.

“Because you are my girl and if I have to spend eternity healing your boo boos and ouchies I will.”

The next morning while you were still sleeping, Gabriel went downstairs to make sure that Jack had gotten back in one piece. Gabriel walked into the kitchen only to be met with Dean half screaming at him.

“IS Y/N BEHIND YOU?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“No, why are you yelling? Its too early for that shit.”

Jack poked his head up happily.

“We are planning Y/n's birthday party!”

Gabriel's master plan came right back as he smiled gleefully. Cas looked up from the table as well.

“Come plot with us.”

Gabriel sat down crossing his arms over his chest.

“I know what I am doing already.”

“Well tell us what it is.”

Sam replied. Gabriel shook his head. The last thing that was going to do was reveal his secret.

“Nope. You will have to wait and see. Its too epic to share.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Whatever! Anyhow, where were we? Jack what are you getting her?”

Jack grinned happily.

“She was telling me about her locket that her father got her and how it got broken in a hunt. I fixed it myself. I like to make her smile.”

Dean looked at the boy with a proud smile.

“Good move. Y/n will definitely smile. She will love that.”

Jack was clearly pleased with Dean's comment and went back to the book that he was  reading. Gabriel was proud of Jack on that one and also slightly confused. You had never told him about a locket.

“So what you two mutton heads getting her?”

Sam and Dean looked instantly proud of themselves. Dean grinned evilly.

“I got her a new gun. For her to use when we go hunting together.”

Gabriel looked totally pissed after that one. Sam quickly started talking to avoid any showdown's between Dean and Gabriel.

“I got her a sapphire bracelet that Y/n has had her eye on for sometime.

“I got the matching ear rings!”

Cas said suddenly as if he too was wanting to prevent his brother and Dean from fighting too. Gabriel smirked.

“Well that's nice Cas. Good job.”

Sam and Dean had arranged to make the party the day before heading back to the bunker. Dean had convinced Jack to take you out to watch some pretend monster. Once you were out of the house, Dean started getting everything ready. Bobby, Charlie, and Marry showed up an hour or so later.

“Glad you all came now. She just left a bit ago.”

Sam said showing them into the house while Cas walked into the house carrying the cake that Sam had ordered. Dean let go of of his mother and nervously looked at Cas.

“Cas man, please tell me that you didn't have them write, “Its your birthday” or something else odd.”

Cas frowned, looking highly offended.

“I had them write the usually Happy Birthday. I thought that was the standard message.”

Dean looked relieved at that.

“Good job. I was worried there.”

Cas gave Dean a glare before stalking off to help Jody with the snacks. He turned seeing Gabriel sitting on the couch looking very “un Gabriel” like.

“Is something bothering you?”

Cas asked calmly. Gabriel shook his head. He didn't turn to look at his younger brother. Cas knew the response coming before he even said it.

“Gabriel, don't tell me no. I am not blind.”

Gabriel turned looking at Cas now.

“I have a lot on my mind that's all.”

How was Gabriel supposed to tell Cas everything what he was feeling. He would never understand. No one in the house would understand! Michael sure as hell would never understand! Not one soul in the WORLD would understand what he was going through mentally.

An hour or so later you walked in with Jack behind you. You were indeed shocked when everyone started yelling surprise. Jack wrapped his arms around you eagerly. When he let go Sam and Dean group hugged you.

“I'm going to kill you two. I said no party!”

You giggled. Dean shrugged.

“We don't listen.”

“Every girl needs her birthday.”

Sam said with a smile. Jack quickly reached out grabbing your hand.

“Come open your presents!”

You chuckled at Jack's eagerness. Someone watching from the outside would have thought that it was Jack's birthday.

“Wait, where is...”

“Right here, sugar.”

You relaxed the moment that you heard Gabriel's voice from beside you. He smiled at you but something in his eyes was worrying you. Jack quickly handed you a box. After a few minutes of opening you were beyond happy with your new gun (even though Gabriel looked less than amused), the bracelet that you had been trying to justify buying and the matching ear rings. You had almost cried all over Jack when you saw that he had given you the locket that was a gift from your father. Jack looked rather proud of himself that he made you that happy.

“I fixed it myself!”

He said gleefully.

“Well you did amazing!”

You said tearfully as you put the locket back on. It had been of the few tender moments that you had shared with your father. One where he saw you as his daughter not as a third boy

Gabriel stepping in front of you made you look up.

“My turn.”

He said with a small smile. You didn't know what to expect from your boyfriend. Gabriel had to be the most unpredictable person that you had ever known! Gabriel held out a hand helping you out of the chair. You frowned becoming worried w hen he simply stood looking at you for a moment.

“You know I love...”

He began. Something inside you began to snap. Was this a break up?! Was he permanently going off with Michael? The other stuffy archangel stood across the room looking less than interested.

“Gabriel, what are you doing?”

Gabriel took a breath.

“Something that I should have done a long time ago. Y/n will you marry me?”

______

@gone-to-fight-the-fairies

@tas898

@greenappleeyes

@li0nh34rt

@sherala007

@everyjourneylove

@authoressskr

@fand0maniac

@cipherwheeldecoder

@fandom-trash-worth-it

[gvbejvmesmichaels]

Drabble: Wish Upon a Star

Title: Wish Upon a Star Word Count: 1100 Rating: PG-13 (language) Characters: Gabriel James-Michaels, Georgiana James Adams, Jonathan James-Michaels, Isabella James-Michaels, Andrew James, Derrick Adams (mentioned) Relationships: Gabriel & Georgiana, Gabriel/Jonathan, Georgiana/Derrick Warnings: Canon character death, mentions of murder weapons, fluff. Summary: Georgie’s 45th birthday.

“Gabey!” The excited voice called out before a body flopped across his sleeping form. If he had to guess, it was at least past six in the morning, if only because his husband was up. Although… his sister probably would have still thrown herself across the bed even if Jay was in it, but if that was the case, he wouldn’t have gotten the whole brunt of her weight. “Wake up! It’s my birthday.” And he swore to fuck – his sister was forty-five going on five.

He groaned, and buried his face into his pillow. No. He sniffed the fabric. His husband’s pillow. “Go away.” He grumbled. “Fighting bumblebees.” And he was trying so hard to slip back to sleep.

Suddenly there was a little finger in his eye and he violently jerked away from what must have been Bella’s hand. In doing so, he knocked Georgie off him, which caused Bella to break into a fit of giggles. “What the fuck?” He asked with a whine, rubbing at his eye to make the weird sensation go away.

Bella was suddenly right there where he could see her before grabbing his mouth with her fingers. “GG.” She said very seriously. “Did you not hear? It’s my GG’s birthday.” And that was Bella’s latest thing. Once she realized that Gabe and Georgie called each other G, she decided they were both GG – obviously. But after more than a couple toddler meltdowns when she realized they didn’t know which GG she wanted, she decided that Georgie was her GG while Gabe was Jay’s GG. It was confusing as hell, but Gabe figured it was just a phase.

“I did hear.” He told her, knowing that there was no way Bella was going to let him go back to sleep now. “But I’ve already celebrated forty-four of them. I think I can miss one.” 

He could hear his sister’s eyeroll. “Put your pants on, and come downstairs. Your man is making breakfast. And he already made your stupid tea.”

And suddenly Bella gasped. “OOOH! My GG said a bad word.” She announced, scrambling off the bed. “I’mma tell Dad on you!” She threatened before running out of the room. 

“G literally said fuck!” Georgie called after her with a pout.

Grinning, Gabe finally pulled himself up to a seated position. “Bad words hurt feelings.” He explained to his sister. “Plus she got in trouble at school for calling something stupid.”

His sister rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you convinced the kid that ‘fuck’ isn’t a bad word.” She complained before finally getting off the bed. “Seriously though, put pants on. If I leave Derrick alone with Jay for too long, they’ll come up with the idea to make us do something psychotic again – like run another 5k.”

This time Gabe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He promised.

Georgie pulled a pair of jeans from the top of the hamper, and chucked them at his face. “I mean it. Their jogging club is disgusting, and I hate hearing about their shin splint remedies. Get dressed.” 

He picked up the jeans, and rolled his eyes when he felt the fabric. “These aren’t even mine.” He complained as his sister walked to the door. “Why do you think we can wear each other’s pants? We have different inseams, George.”

His sister ignored his comment and slipped out of the room.

“Hey, G?” He waited until she poked her head back into the room before tagging on, “Happy birthday.”

–

Gabe’s eyes sprung open, and he desperately looked around the room for Georgie, but of course she wasn’t there. “Fuck.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fuck.” It had felt so damn real, but then again, his dreams usually did. He glanced at the clock – 2 am and Georgie’s birthday. Sighing, he rolled out of bed. He wasn’t getting back to sleep any time soon. 

For a moment he just stood there watching Jay sleep. Or pretend to sleep. It was too dark to tell if he was faking it. For a moment he debated waking him up, but it didn’t make sense for both of them to lose sleep. Someone had to take Bella to school in the morning. He pulled his slippers on, and slipped out of the room.

He grabbed one of the spare comforters from the hall closet before wandering downstairs and outside onto the patio. Somewhere along the way, he’d gained the two older dogs, Gulliver and Scully, and they ran outside first, probably hoping for snow. Not seeing any, they curled up into one of the chairs together. Rolling his eyes at their antics, he dragged the heat lamp over towards the chairs and turned it on. The irony of using something that helped contribute to his sister’s death would never be lost on him. 

After wrapping himself up in the comforter, he curled up onto one of the lounge chairs and stared up at what little stars he could see. “What doing, Daddy?” A tiny voice asked him. 

For one wild moment, he thought the dogs were talking to him, and it took him way too long to realize that Bella had followed him outside. “What are you doing up?” He asked before picking her up, and pulling her into his lap and into his comforter cloak.

“You stole Scully.” She accused, snuggling in closer to him. “Didn’t answer my question. What are we doing?”

“He’s looking for the constellation he made up with Aunt G.” Drew explained before settling into the chair with the dogs, the blanket from the couch wrapped around him. “You can see it here and back in New Mexico.”

Gabe couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at his son. “Did I wake up the whole damn house?” He asked in annoyance.

Drew shrugged. “I don’t sleep so hot on her birthday either.” He confessed before pointing up at the sky. “Is that one it?”

“You can’t see it yet.” His husband’s voice greeted. Well, he had been only fifty percent sure that his husband was still asleep anyway. “We have about a half hour.” He explained before passing Drew a cup of something steaming, and then climbing onto the lounger with Gabe and Bella, a thermos of what Gabe guessed was either tea or hot chocolate in his hands.

Gabe shifted around so he was more or less in Johnny’s lap. “Thank you.” He whispered out into the night.

“Happy birthday, G.” His husband murmured out in response before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Happy birthday.”