#rattie roller coaster

[arrow-dykenamics]

canada's wonderland! technically my first international theme park even though it's right across the border. as is expected from someone with my url the arrow suspended coaster is my favorite (it's the tallest and tied for the fastest of its type currently operating !!)

[bepisbee]

Take me back to eden

based on this post https://www.tumblr.com/c-is-for-circinate/731826400486653952?source=share

“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say. An important part of you. Part of you we brought back haha,” He cupped Shadow’s cheeks in his hands “I am so glad you are here.” Shadow was overwhelmed at the moment in conflicting emotions. “Welcome back.”

Read on Ao3

He was suddenly and painfully, very painfully, aware. Everything was wrong. His body felt too big, he couldn’t get enough air. There were black spots covering the majority of his vision. Shadow's body gasped air into his lungs, retching him upright with the force. Too many things slammed into him at once, his head felt detached from his body and dizzy. If he could see the room would be spinning wildly. Shadow could hear voices but not make out what was being said. Gulping in air fast, then slowly ebbing out to normalcy. It quenched the ache in his chest. The burning sensation faded. Someone was gripping his left hand tightly. Something hard and cold was under him. Stone? As he blinked the black blurred into shapes. Tunnel vision faded as his body finally calmed down. He still felt too big at the moment.

“Can you hear me?” A familiar voice was in his ear, soft and concerned. More mature than he last remembered. Was it possible?? Shadow looked over and met his eyes at last. Unique ice blue as sharp as glass filled his vision. Until it got blurry with tears. There would never be any mistake whose eyes those were. His heart thumped loud in his ears as blood rushed back into his system. Something in the eye contact was beginning to bring up a fight or flight response.

Shadow had a feeling it wasn’t to do with his sudden consciousness.

Vio sat next to him on a hard cold stone floor. Hand interlaced with Shadow’s clawed fingers. Shadow nodded at him yes to the question. Vio being the first sight since he’d died, it made him breathless. It was almost enough to shake off the strange chill that ran up his spine when he met his gaze. Something putting goosebumps and hairs on end in an unfamiliar way. At least the feeling of running from immediate danger had gone away.

“Hey.” Shadow’s voice was rough and dry. His lips stuck a little when he opened them to speak. A shorter version of Vio, wearing a red cat shirt, handed over a glass potion bottle. He took it gratefully. After chugging the refreshing liquid magic he finally realized who was all around him, his senses coming back but by bit. Kneeling down was Red, who gave him the potion. Green, a little ways back standing up. Blue halfway between, watching. He couldn’t read their expressions from here. Vio. His beautiful Vio. His dry lips split as he smiled to his eyes. Shining bright and pretty as ever. Vio melted.

“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say. An important part of  you. Part of you we brought back haha,” He cupped Shadow’s cheeks in his hands “I am so glad you are here.”

Shadow was overwhelmed at the moment in conflicting emotions.

“Welcome back.”

Shadow was now sitting on a large old jean blue couch. Its cushions restuffed (overstuffed) to pure comfort. The small home was new to him of course. As was everything inside it. It had been a few days since he woke up and things had been a roller coaster. After some serious private conversation with Vio, they had decided on a trial relationship. There were many things to air out between them and trust to rebridge. Shadow tucked himself up, knees underneath like a cat loaf. He was wearing Vio’s ratty black hoodie. He had said it was a five “ex el” so it was ginormous on them both. Shadow had a lot to learn about the world. It had been interesting enough when he barely saw it but now that he had the time? Technology amazed him, as limited as they had right now.

Vio had explained they owned a cottage in Faron Woods. Well he did anyways. The others lived in Hyrule City, where they could walk to work at the castle. They had rebuilt and recovered quite well. Shadow hummed in thought, looking down at the bowl of stew in his hands. It has been ten years so it wasn't surprising life was normal again. Vio claimed to be a potion curator. Creator, herbalist, and magic influencer. He seemed hesitant to talk in detail about it.

Steam rose up from the bowl. Shadow needed to get used to this whole eating thing. The others were currently working on projects, (Blue and Green), cooking, (Red, who had woken him for this delicious smelling meal) or somewhere. He wasn't actually sure where Vio was at the moment.

He had been getting a nagging feeling they weren’t telling him something. Everyone on the surface was smiling, laughing, talking, and teaching. There was something in it though. Smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes, nervous glances at each other when they don't think he’s looking. Not to mention how cold he felt down his spine when making eye contact with Vio. Shadow had been doing his best to put it aside. How would he even ask something like that without making it sound bad?

“ -ot feeling stew or too hot?” Shadow jumped, startled at Vio’s sudden voice. Speak of the devil.

“Ha sorry.” He laughed it off. He genuinely was happy to see him. “Just thinking about you actually,“ he put the bowl down on the coffee table in the middle and patted the seat next to him. Vio sat, one long graceful leg over the other. A strange chill filled the air again.

“What've you been up to? I couldn’t find ya.” Shadow leaned against him barely. Vio leaned back. They were still learning each other's boundaries and touch starvation made things complicated on both ends.

Shadow’s skin felt warm and tingly where they made contact.

“I’m sorry, I got lost in some research. You know me and books.” He nervously tucked some hair behind his pointed ear. A habit he had picked up a while ago.

“Down in your super secret locked basement of doom?” Shadow teased. It had 5 deadbolts and a magic seal. His memory of waking up was hazy enough he knew it was downstairs, but not much else about it.

“There’s dangerous equipment and ingredients. Red spilled something once and burned a hole in the floor.” Vio smiled fondly. “I’ll spend all of tomorrow with you, to make up for it.” the blonde hesitated a little before running a hand through his purple locks. “How about a little bath? I have these soap things that we call bath bombs.”

“Bath bombs??” Shadow perked up. He liked explosives.

“You put them in water and they… well you’ll see it.” Vio chuckled at his excitement. “They are surprisingly easy to make…” he began talking about how to make the soaps, scents, and compress it. Shadow sort of listened. The longer he sat close to Vio the more he noticed the slightly off smell. Not bad or stinky necessarily, just different. Usually it was his lavender soap, maybe some incense. Today it was different. It reminded him of the dark world portals he used to plague the world with. Strange herbs and weird fire. Shadow mentally shook it out of his head. There was no way. He must just be thinking about the past too much.

Shadow helped clean up some dishes, much to his grumbling. Red claimed it was to help him get better with helping people. While he was washing, hands all full of soap he had an idea. He grinned and slowly snuck up behind the red hero bubbles a plenty. Just as he was about to prank he noticed: the distant look. Red’s eyes were flat, plain, no light. Just staring off creepily. An offset frown on his face. It was the first he had ever seen a frown on Red, even during their adventure. Shadow paused for too long getting his attention.

“O-oh! Sorry! Did you need something?” Red went back to his cheery self but it was empty. Shadow shook his head and went back to the sink. That really weirded him out.

“I'm going to go to bed soon, I think Vio said for you to meet him in the bath when you were done? G'night shadow! ~’

“Alright!” He called back to his retreating form. “Erm- thanks!” Shadow remembered. They had tried to teach him about politeness. Whatever was going on with them he did not want to rock the boat.

Shadow kept replaying the odd scenarios over and over. He finished setting all the dishes on a drying rack and let the water go down the drain. “Fuck. I’m sure it’s just me…” shadow took a deep breath and headed over down the hall. It started smelling very strong like soap and herbs.

He gently opened the bathroom door. No he did not open the wrong door first and blush about it, thank you very much.

Vio was waiting for him, reading while sitting on a counter. “Ah! Hey,” he put it away. “Good timing.” The bath was luxurious! A giant tub that you feel the warm water of making the room humid. He handed Shadow a small chalky ball that was purple and dried but with something inside. Flower petals?? 

“Hey,” Shadow looked it over and was about to lick it.

“Do not!” Vio laughed. “You put it into the water.”

“I know!” Shadow flushed. He did not know. He stepped over and put it in. It seemed to spark to life. The tiny ball started fizzing and rolling around in the hot tub water. “Woaaah!” It started to turn it into a deep purple color that sparkled. The tiny petals floating at the top. It smelled of lilac and honey.

Vio put a hand on his shoulder. “If you step in, I’ll wash you?” Vio looked a bit uncomfortable and vulnerable. This was a big step for them. This almost felt more intimate than some of the things he’d read in Vio’s secret book stash.

Shadow did as told. Thankful Vio had turned around while he derobed. He almost missed the cute blush on his face. The blonde only turned around when he heard Shadow stop moving. “This is so warm!” He sank into bliss. Vio knelt down by the edge and rolled up his sleeves. It was almost scandalous. He never showed any skin afterall. There were some battle scars but not anything that seemed too concerning.

They spent the next while talking while Vio washed his hair and showed him to clean up. As peaceful and serene this moment was, an anxiety formed in his gut. Shadow tried to push it down but it just would not go away. Vio seemed to be the only color fully presently aware when making eye contact. That was almost worse. It felt intense, like a predator about to strike. And he knew that feeling, for Hylia’s sake he had a dragon! Shadow’s shoulders remained tense.

“It’s alright if this is too much for you,” The ever observant Vio noticed. “I can stop-”

“No! No- I uhhh…” shadow raised his wet hands up. “I'm just not used to this sorta thing!”

“If you're sure… I think it’s probably time to get out and dry anyway. The water is turning cold.” Vio stood up. “There's a plug in the bottom can you reach? You just pull it out.” He turned to grab a fluffy towel from the small cupboard. Shadow leaned down and did so. A sharp spike of fear struck his back upright afterwards for showing his back to Vio. But when he looked, he was still in the cupboard fiddling until he found a black towel. Shadow let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and stood up carefully. He was warned the water was slippery.

Shadow took the offered towel and dried up, the wrapped it around his waist haphazardly. He had no idea what he was doing and the panic was rising as much as he tried to bottle it up. Something wasn’t right. It was awkwardly quiet on the walk to their room. Him and Vio shared since there were only two in the small cottage. The others were sharing the guest room and rotating who slept on the couch.

They changed into pajamas avoiding eye contact. Shadows of course was just some of Vio’s old clothes. When he brought up shopping (stealing really) something for his own it was shut down hard. Faster than reasonable honestly. More so about going into the city. Shadow supposed it was reasonable, he did terrorize them after all. But it had also been ten years since, and surely no one would question their heroes?

They slipped into the bed and eventually Vio fell asleep.

It had been very hard for Shadow to sleep next to him. At first he thought it was lingering feelings over Vio’s betrayal. He was sure that was still part of it. But not all.

It must have been well past midnight when Shadow snuck up. Careful not to disturb Vio, he crept downstairs. He needed to know. He wrapped the loose long edges of Vio’s sweater around his palms in comfort as he slowly walked to the basement door. Tunnel vision prevented any other thought. Need to see, need to know. He reached up and undid all the locks. It was just his pure luck that this night Vio had forgotten to reseal the magic. Maybe it was him sitting on the couch? Or a slip of carelessness. It didn’t matter. The door opened. It was darker than the abyss that had trapped him so many years.

His mind whirled back to that first day. Less than a week ago now, that still felt like years. Just out of reach. It smelled the same as Vio had when he approached earlier. Like dark magic.

Shadow took each step down slowly, unsure in the darkness. Feeling the walls as he went for any sort of switch or even a candle. He found one at the base of the steps. It flickered the overhead light in a dingy barely lit yellow. It flickered and buzzed. The room of course was made of stone, as most basements were. There was a small white container in the corner, shelves upon shelves of things, a cauldron in the middle. Jars of specimens, parts, preserved roots, all things that would seem normal for an alchemist to have, lined the shelves and table. It was creepy but not out of the ordinary. He noticed drag lines near the bookshelf. Way to make your secret liar obvious, Vio. He smiled a little. It gave him nostalgia. As he pulled aside the shelf he found another room. There was no stash or storage. It looked savage and It all came back to him at once. This was the room he woke up in. He could feel the unnaturally cold hard floor. It was a giant mirror surface, or at least appeared to be. Shiny inky blackness of a dark mirror on the floor. A circle with some kind of writing he didn’t recognize the language of sat in the middle. He had enough experience to know that it was dried blood that spelled out whatever ritual he had been part of. Shadow’s whole body felt cold. This entire room, the second he stepped into it, felt absolutely utterly wrong. He had been in the presence of evil, hells he was evil until very shortly to the end of his life! This was something darker. More malicious. The floor under him swirled about not acknowledging his presence.

A sharp chill shocked his spine. Something was wrong. He felt watched. That first instinct he had had on this floor: the fight or flight. It was kicking in and he was freezing instead.

In hindsight, VIo thought, he should have double checked the door as he usually did. Tonight he was just so ecstatic that Shadow seemed more reciprocating to his touch and advances. He just didn't think about it. His revived partner was happy, warm, in his clothes. Vio’s breath came quicker now, looking around. Shadow wasn’t in bed, wasn’t in the bathroom, or the kitchen. Options to where he could be were running slim and he didn’t like the odds. He glanced over now, at the partially ajar basement door. Shit.

Shadow meanwhile looked around in paranoia. He shuddered and when he turned to look again from the corner of his eye he saw eyes watching him inside the mirror. He quickly faced them as they disappeared. Whose were those?? It happened again. Lingering longer than last time. Three pairs stayed this time. He couldn't look away. It was Link. Or well, his parts anyways. Something clicked for him.

He wasn’t sure why but something Vio had said to him after waking up.

“The eyes are the window to the soul, they say.”

What had he done?

As true panic began to set in, making him hyperventilate, a sudden force knocked his world into blackness.

Shadow woke up the next  morning with a minor headache and a start. “Ha! Whuh??” He looked around. His movement woke a bleary-eyed Vio in the process.

“Huh? Whas?” Vio mumbled rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “Ok?”

“Oh.” Everything felt fine. He was exactly where he had been the night before. Vio was where he had been when he fell asleep. Fell asleep?? When did he fall asleep?

“Are you alright Shadow? You were kicking in your sleep, was it a nightmare? I’m sorry, maybe I should have woken you… but I’ve read it’s better to let nightmares sort themselves out…” Vio sleepily supplied. Shadow started. A nightmare…. Of course! That’s why his brain was foggy about what he saw. There was no way the other colors would have let Vio make a giant floor dark mirror in his basement, let alone sacrifice their own souls to bring him back.

“Sorry. I… I don’t even really remember what it was about now.” He laughed nervously. Vio did not catch onto his lie. “Can we have some of that tea? The Sharp one.”

“Chai?” “Yeah! Ch eye!” Shadow beamed at him, once again stuffing down his body response. Vio smiled back and got up. “I’ll be right back then.” He left to go downstairs.

Shadow let out his breath, his body still tensed up. He knew exactly what happened. He knew it was no dream or nightmare. Maybe one day he would be willing to accept that.

A thought occurred to him though, as VIo left the room. He didn’t remember seeing Green after the first day in the basement. He didn’t remember seeing Blue on the couch where he was supposed to be sleeping last night. He couldn’t hear Red humming from the kitchen today…

Downstairs, the door had a new magical seal on it. This time, to keep anything in rather than out.

Vio glanced only briefly at it, before heading back upstairs. He needed to make sure Shadow couldn’t see them anymore after all. He brought up the tea where Shadow was waiting.

[simgrump]

Gen One, Day Fifty-Six

“Do you think... maybe it’s time for a new shirt?” Eris asked. 

Allan had come over after school to get started on the partner project. She could see why Brittni didn’t like him, or even called him weird. He was sloppily dressed and not just for the style of it all. His hair was a mess, acne rampant on his face and his backpack had basically been a ratty old thing that he’d had to duct tape back together in places. At first sight, he definitely was...different. 

But once he’d got to work on their computer typing in calculations to show her how they could incorporate a loop into their rollercoaster design, she found herself thankful that at least he knew his stuff. 

“What? Are you kidding?” Allan asked, looking over his shoulder at her for only a moment. “This is my favorite shirt. I’ve had it for years.” 

“I can tell,” she told him, shaking her head when he stuck a finger through one of the holes in his shirt to show off. 

“So, I think we could do something like this,” Allan said, moving on from the comment to point at a picture he’d googled. It was a roller coaster that looked awfully traumatic to be on. Loops and twists, high velocity turns. She lifted a brow to look at him. “You ever been on this before? It’s down at the Copperdale pier.” 

“Really?” she asked, perking up. “No, I, uh...I haven’t been there.” 

“What?” Allan asked with a laugh, turning to look at her. He snorted. “And here you and your friends call me lame.” 

The comment caught her off guard, brushing her hair back, a little offended that he’d think that. “I never called you lame,” she told him. 

“Yeah? Not even crazy? Loser? Weird? School shooter material?” The last one made her nose scrunch up. “I’ve heard them all, it’s okay. I’m used to it.” He said the words with a chuckle, but Eris didn’t find any of that funny. Not only the fact that people would say it to his face, but the fact that her own friends had used at least one of those to describe him. And she’d gone along with it. 

“Sorry,” she said suddenly, feeling her cheeks flush. “I mean, sorry that you have to... deal with that.” 

He gave another chuckle, a shrug like it was no big deal. “Told you, it’s okay.” He went quiet for a second before he looked back at her. “Hey, are you going to be able to get things like poster board? Wire for this and stuff? I can get tools but I don’t know if I’ll be able to buy supplies or...” 

“Yeah!” she said, nodding her head, glad the conversation was moving along from it all. “Yeah, I can get all that. If you help me put it together.” 

“Cool,” Allan grinned at her. 

Legacy Page

[miss-authorcita]

A/N: So, I'm obsessed (once again) with Taylor's Fearless album and I've decided to write one shots of each of the songs. They probably won't be that good cause I'm literally just writing them down and posting them. (No spellcheck, no beta reader, no nothing) I just wanna get back to writing and this came to mind.

SUMMARY: It's been almost 2 years since Civil War. You and Steve have grown closer while on the run, but you can't help missing the roller coaster love you and Tony shared. (Inspired by: That's The Way I Loved You)

I was sitting by the window of my ratty Motel room, simply staring at the wet cobblestones of the empty street barely lit up by two lamp lights. My thoughts kept drowning me, it was a new thing with me when I was alone. I made so many mistakes in my life and now the solitude seemed to bring them all to the forefront of my mind.

A knock brought me out of my stupor and I was instantly in alert, gun out of its holster and aiming towards the door.

"Y/N, it's me and Nat." Steve's voice was heard muffled by the wood.

I relaxed, letting my shoulders fall. I reholstered my gun and unlocked the door, letting both of them step into my room. As soon as I locked the door behind them Steve pulled me by the waist and kissed me. Just a quick peck. I blushed and stepped away.

"I got you something." He smiled and pulled out a packet of skittles from his pocket.

I couldn't help, but smile. "I haven't had these in years not since..." I trailed off not wanting to mention his name.

Steve nodded and kissed my forehead.

"I have to stop by Wanda's and Sam's just to check in. I'll be back later tonight, alright?"

I nodded still staring at the bag of skittles in my hand. Steve opened the door and waited for Nat to walk by first. She stopped beside me and squeezed my forearm making me look up. She gave me her signature side smirk. She always voiced her support. She was mine and Steve's biggest shipper.

After the two of them left, I waited till I couldn't hear their footsteps anymore before collapse on the bed. Once again, while in solitude, I let the memories of my mistakes flood my mind.

It was a few hours later when Steve knocked on my door again. I opened and stepped to the side to let him in. He locked up and once again pulled me towards him by my waist. This time he just holds me.

"I know this life is hard. I know how hard...how difficult leaving was..." He's hesitant with his words, always sensible and caring of my feelings.

I just nod, unable to use words, afraid I'll just start sobbing.

"You know I'm doing everything I can to make this as easy for you as possible, right?"

I pull back and stare up at him. I let my hand caress his bearded jaw as I look deep into his blue eyes. "I know, Steve and I appreciate it so much" I whisper and stand on my tip toes to kiss him.

I fall asleep in his arms that night like many before and again like many times before we have to leave suddenly. Sam is the one to wake us, urgently banging on the door. We'd been tracked and we needed to move out quickly. All of us are out of the building in less that 15 minutes. We head to our cars and Steve opens up my door, helping me step in like a true gentleman.

"You look beautiful tonight." He says with a grin and I roll my eyes with a chuckle and close the door. He jogs to the driver side, and we're all off to find our next hideout.

The ride is long and before I know it I've fallen asleep.

*

"Tony!" I yell as soon as the elevator doors open. "Tony Stark!" I shout once again.

"What!? What!? Why are you shouting?" He asks, coming out of the kitchen. His hair is wet , he's wearing a black tank top and sweats and holding a bag of chips.

"Why am I shouting!? Have you seen the news!?" I yell again. His confused face only makes me madder. The rage is building like the rain and thunder outside like it's mimicking my mood.

"I was showering...so no?" He smiles and that is the last straw. I explode, my voice basically shrill.

"All the news channels are showing the explosion! The one of the building you and the Avengers were in! They don't show you guys coming out of it! I called Tony!"

"Sweetheart, I'm fine. I'm alive." He says like my tone isn't a very obvious clue to my state of mind.

"You didn't answer when I called! You what? Came home, showered and were gonna eat fucking chips! Did you even think to let me know you were okay!?" I couldn't seem to lower my voice even if I wanted to. I was so upset.

"I was gonna call you as soon as I sat on the couch." He excuses.

"Fuck you, Tony Stark!" I hissed and started walking to the elevator to leave.

"Friday close access to the elevators." Tony said as he made his way towards me. I dodged him and made my way to the doors that led to the hall.

"Friday if you could, please." At his command the padlock turned red, obviously meaning they would not open, at least not for me.

We stood a few feet apart, me glaring and him smirking. I must've lost my mind that night because I looked out towards his Ironman platform and made a run for it. He followed me out, both of us instantly soaked by the rain. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to face him.

"Are you insane!? What was your plan!? To jump off of the building!?" He yelled over the roar of the rain.

"You're the one who locked all other exits."

"I was bloodied, bruised and covered in soot and cement and dust, okay!?" His change of tactic threw me.

"What?" My eyes were wide. This whole conversation was an unpredictable rollercoaster.

"That's why I didn't call you. I...didn't want to scare you. I don't want you to worry eveytime I go save the world...So I came here, hid the suit, cleaned up and then I was going to call you."

"I always worry about you, Tony."

He sighed and looked away from me. I'd always known his fear. He lost Pepper because she couldn't handle his Ironman life, so he tried to keep me out of the loop thinking he was helping, but it wasn't.

I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him. "Call me. It helps me to know how you are. Even if you're bleeding out." I said locking eyes with him

He chuckled. "I'll be sure to do that. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, you insufferable man."

And with a laugh he kissed me in the rain at 2am we were so in love back then.

*

"We're here." Steve's voice roused me up from my dream, or more like memory.

"Where is he? I mean 'here.' Where is here?" I ask still groggy.

"One of Nat's safe houses." Steve fills in and starts unloading the car.

I'm not sure if it was the dream, but the memory of Tony crushed my mood. Steve must've noticed my shift because he asked if I wanted to sleep alone tonight and I agreed. They're so different that sometimes it's shocking to me. Steve respects my space, Tony was always there even when I didn't want him to, but always needed. Steve has never made me wait, Tony was known for being late. I started telling him the wrong time to try and trick him into arriving on time. They're opposites. Steve gets along so well with Nat who is basically my sister, while her and Tony were never the best of friends. Steve is just charming and endearing and even while being on the run for almost 2 years he's managed to make me feel comfortable. But I can't help it, I miss Tony.

It's while sitting on my bed alone, opening my bag of skittles that the tears come as I remember him. I fall asleep, sobbing that night.

*

I had been sitting in the couch for an hour. Dressed amazing if I may add. Heels and everything which I hated and he wasn't here. He was always so late and I was more than frustrated. I heard the elevator doors open and I didn't even glance. I was gonna strangle the man.

"I know I'm late. I'm sorry, I was--"

I interrupted his apology "Let me guess, you got tied up in the lab? Again."

"Actually no."

His answer suprised me and I turned to glare at him, but my eyes widened when I saw him holding a huge jar full of red skittles.

"W-what is that?"

He smiled and walked closer to me, setting the jar on the table next to the couch.

"I know you only like eating the red ones so ta-da."

I laughed. "Are these the reason you were late or are these a gift to make up for being late?"

"A little bit of both? I forgot to pick the order up earlier today...cause I got tied up at the lab...so I went to pick them up after and that's why I'm late."

I sighed and kissed him. "You drive me insane."

"But that's the way you love me." He teased.

I nodded and kissed him. That's the way I loved him.

*

As I sit outside with Steve, leaning on his chest, I can't help but wonder if he knows. My smiles aren't real, and I've gone numb over the months. I barely feel anything anymore. The numbness worsened after we started whatever this is. Steve has always been looking for someone to fill the emptiness since Peggy and conveniently I needed a balm for the pain of losing Tony. We weren't in love, or at least I hoped he didn't love me...because my heart doesn't feel anything anymore.

*

"You're...you're siding with him?" The crack in his voice made me wince.

"Tony, I can't sign the Accords."

"Why not!?"

"You know what being under the governments control has done to me!" He knew of my past, of the millions of tests I was subjected to, the betrayal, the rules that were only there to hurt me. I'd confided in him every dark moment.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We need to be held accountable." He repeated to me what he'd said at the conference room.

"I know, but not like this. Tony--" I went to touch him and he flinched away. That simple move broke my heart.

"If you side with him, it'll break us."

"Tony..."

He locked eyes with me, begging me to stay, but I didn't. I couldn't and I lost him.

*

I had decided that morning that I needed to talk to Steve. He was my friend before we became anything more and even if it meant making our runaways situation awkward, I needed to be honest with him. I couldn't keep sleeping wrapped in his arms. He needed to know that my heart belonged to Tony. He needed to know that I spent my days dreaming up plans of how I could see him without getting arrested. He needed to know that I looked for him in every person we passed by. He needed to know...or at least I needed to tell someone. I took a deep breath and started walking towards him when a ring broke the peaceful morning silence.

He looked at the number on his burner phone before locking eyes with me. "It's Tony."

[talesmaniac89]

Well, Hello There Stranger - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Sam informs you that Dean’s suffering from temporary memory loss and has forgotten you. Yet, when you meet your boyfriend, it isn’t the cold eyes of a stranger that meets yours.

Triggers: Memory Loss, but mainly just fluff

Y/N = Your name | Y/H/C = Your eye colour

Read Part 1 Here

---

“Hey Sammy, I was just remembering that time you…” 

Dean was sitting on the bed, looking perfectly healthy as he turned with sparkling green eyes to throw a mischievous grin at his brother. The smile dropping slightly, together with the rest of his sentence, as his eyes focused on you instead of the brother he’d been expecting. Any other day, that smile would have been growing warmer, brighter, instead of fading away once his eyes met yours. 

As memories of past smiles, ones that the hunter couldn’t remember, hit you, you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep from crying. Dean was the one suffering. Your tears wouldn’t help. Looking down at the ratty motel room carpet, you willed your tears to stay back. Promising them that you’d willingly let them soak your tattered soul, as long as they didn’t hurt your heart. Because that was what Dean Winchester was to you, your heart. 

Yet, as you finally got the traitorous tears under control and looked up again, what met you wasn’t the fallen smile of a man confused by a stranger. Nor the empty eyes you’d expected him to have when looking at someone he had no connection to; like glancing at a passing stranger on the street. 

No. It was something completely different. 

His green eyes were wide and fully focused on you, instead of going to find Sammy behind you. And as you watched, frozen in place, a careful smile grew on silent full lips. His eyes brightening as he saw you, really saw you for the first time. Well… First time for him at least. The intangible warmth of his eyes on you was like an electric current. Waking up all your nerves from your numb pain as it sent waves of little pleasant pinpricks of heat through your body and into your heart.

Dean was looking at you. And not like you were just another stranger. He was looking at you like you were precious, important. Like he’d been lost until he found you. Dean Winchester was smiling at you, a warm smile filled with reverence and relief. Eyes wide in wonder, as if he’d just discovered some long sought out secret truth. As if you’d just shared the meaning of life with the man, by simply walking through a door. 

Like you were still the meaning of his life. 

You held your breath, unable to speak or even move further into the room. Frozen by the high voltage of Dean that was coursing through your body. Until Sam’s hand on your shoulder acted like your grounding, finally snapping you out of it as your eyes moved from the man in front of you to throw a sheepish nod hello in Castiel’s direction. Your muddled mind finally realising it wasn’t just Dean and you in the room. Pulling you back to earth from where you’d been momentarily lost in the endless shades of the emerald galaxy that was his brightly sparkling eyes.

“Dean, this is… Uh,” Sam’s voice came from behind you, his eyes going to you. A silent question lingering in them as he waited for you to introduce yourself. 

However, before you could get a word out, Dean had jumped off the bed and, stumbling slightly over his feet, made it over to where you were standing. Clearly choosing to ignore his brother’s half-finished introduction as he grinned at you. 

“Whoa, hey there,” Dean's voice was low and warm as he smiled in that way that made his soft eyes shine brighter, the heat from them burning into yours. That bright boyish smile coupled with the way his eyes crinkled at the corners easily doing dirty things to your mind and creating innocent girly butterflies in your stomach simultaneously. As if the entirety of your love story was flashing in front of your eyes, from innocent first crush to heated whispers shared among tangled sheets. The way he was looking at you, and that small wink that followed his words was threatening to tease a laugh out of you as you realised what was happening.

He wasn’t… Was he?

“Please tell me I know you too... Or at least that you’d like to get to know me,” Dean’s voice dropped a little lower as he murmured the words at you. Like a goddamn Casanova with amnesia. Yeah, that sealed the deal. 

Dean Winchester, the cute dork, was flirting with you. 

For a second you struggled between laughter and tears. The heartbreak that never came to fruition forcing you onto a roller-coaster of emotion as the adorable man in front of you waited, eyes hopeful where they focused on you. Your mind and body struggling to keep up with the quick shift as your heart went from numb to pounding and euphoria drowned your sorrows in giddy, girlish glee.

“You know me Dean,” You finally managed to push the words out with a roll of your thankfully still dry eyes and a soft smile, as you tried, and failed, at suppressing the blush that always betrayed how you felt for the hunter. Former thoughts of pained heartbreak fading away into nothing, as the beautiful man in front of you chased all the shadows away with his brightness. Hell, even not knowing who you were, Dean was still flirting with you, still smiling at you. 

Of course. You should never have doubted your strong, stubborn soldier. Never doubted all the whispers of forever that he peppered your hair with whenever you were wrapped in his strong arms. Dean Winchester loved you. He was simply lost and trying to find the way back to you. Back home.

“I do? Lucky me,” The man in front of you looked younger as he beamed at you with boyish glee. Your eyes, perceptive after years of hunting, not missing the way he not-so-sneakily pumped his fist by his side in a childish display of victory. 

His eyes were filled with wonder. Innocent and untainted by doubt as he realised, somewhere deep down, that he really did know you. Though he couldn’t remember you just yet. The bright smile only softened into something more provocative once they tore themselves away from your own goofy smile to take in the rest of you. Clearly the hunter had been as lost in your eyes as you’d been in his, if the lingering look that ghosted over your body was anything to go by. Like he was finally seeing all of you. 

“Hey…” Dean sounded slightly breathless as he let his eyes linger on the shape of you. His tongue rolling over his bottom lip when he finally managed to tear his eyes off your body to look up at you throw slightly hooded eyes again. “Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?” 

As the slightly corny pickup line left your momentarily forgetful boyfriend you couldn’t stop the surprised whisper of a chuckle that left you. The line just solidified that this really was your adorable dofus of a hunter.

No doubt about it. Dean Winchester was definitely flirting with you.

“My name is (Y/N), but you can call me tonight,” You shot back with a wink, easily playing his game right back at him. Just like you’d done countless times to the mix of mirth and exasperation from your friends and family.

In front of you, Dean’s viridescent eyes widened in surprised glee at your reply. His smile, if possible, beaming even brighter as he looked from you to Sam and back again. The unadulterated elation on his face nearly too much for your little heart to handle as the muscle was left to work overtime in your chest in a vain attempt to keep up. You bit your lip to keep from laughing out loud as every nerve in your body was tingling. Like you were drunk on his dorky endearing smile.

“Damn, Sammy! This girl’s awesome!” Dean, however, didn’t bother holding back his happy laughter as he looked over at Sam. Following his eyes to his brother, you turned to catch Sam’s eyes as well.

Watching the big guy suppress a laugh at the way his brother was acting. As the youngest Winchester’s eyes met with yours, wide in surprise and laughter, he silently asked, no, begged you, to keep this going for a while. To not let the cat out of the bag about who you were. 

At least until the older hunter calmed down. 

For Sam Winchester, it was just a way to get a laugh in at his older brother’s expense. For you however, it was a much more selfish thought that slipped into your mind once your eyes strayed from Sam and back to Dean. 

The oldest hunter was just so damn adorable. And you couldn’t help but fall in love with him once more as he met you for the first time all over again. A little while wouldn’t hurt, plus, you had to break it to him gently. At least that’s how you justified it, as you allowed yourself just a bit longer to get drunk on the bubbly, tingly feelings this slightly forgetful and very cute version of your boyfriend was steadily supplying you with.

“I’m just answering back in-kind Winchester,” You spoke up instead of Sam, raising an eyebrow as you challenged the hunter head on. Yet, you couldn’t help but just smile warmly at the man in front of you as he turned his full attention back towards you. Missing memories or no, this was your Dean.

“Awesome,” Dean’s voice was low and awed when he finally found it again. His eyes fully back on you after momentarily focusing on his brother. The crooked smile that followed the single words tugging at your heartstrings just as Dean reached out and grabbed your hand, gently pulling at it to bring you further into the bright motel room. 

“Sammy probably told you already, but I kinda lost my memory. Though I can’t for the life of me understand how I could ever forget about someone as…” Dean took a generous pause between words to drink you in once more, now that you were fully framed by the lights of the motel room. “... breath-taking, as you,” He finished, the breathless way the words left the hunter acting as evidence to back up his own words. 

“You’ll remember everything soon Dean,” You said with a small sad smile as you watched the hunter in front of you. For a second you considered just coming out and telling him who you were. But before you could find the correct words to introduce yourself as his girlfriend, Dean spoke up again. 

“I can’t wait that long. I need to know everything about you, right now,” The impatience shone through the raw look in his eyes as he watched you. Greedily etching every detail of you into his mind as he did. 

“What’s your favourite song? Who’s better, Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd? Oh! Have you met Baby?” The rapid-fire questions caught you unawares as your eyes widened in barely suppressed laughter at the choice of questions from the hunter. 

You’d expected him to ask who he was to you right off the bat. But instead the hunter decided to find pleasure in getting to know you the old-fashioned way. Well… Slightly more rambled, you realised as the big man was eagerly waiting for your answers.

“Whoa there Winchester, let a girl grab a beer first before you start with the interrogation,” You chuckled, slipping your hand from his to walk over to the small motel kitchen and root through the fridge. Using the moment and added space to relearn how to breathe again, as Dean kept stealing yours away whenever you looked at him.

Yeah, there was no way your heart would survive the constant roller-coaster of Dean’s attention if you didn’t have something to drink first. Casting a quick look behind you, you noticed Cas and Sam quietly following you. Both boys only threw you a quick smile and glance, eyes brimming with laughter, your way before sinking down into the kitchen seats. Silently giving Dean and you a little bit of privacy by staying in the small kitchen nook at the other end of the room. 

Letting your eyes slide past the two boys with a grateful smile you leaned down to grab an armful of beers from the fridge. Depositing a few on the table between two of your best friends in the entire world before heading back to the man that was your world. Two bottles in your hands as his eyes met yours, soft and warm with joy at your return. Like you hadn’t just been gone for a minute at most.

“So, which question was first again?” You smiled as you handed him the beer, sinking down on the edge of the bed and patting the space next to you. “Favourite song was it? Totally ‘Ramble On’,” You grinned, knowing the reaction that was coming before Dean even caught your words. Since it would be the same as the first time he realised you had so much in common. 

“No way! That’s one of my favourites too,” The big dork grinned at you, touching the neck of his bottle to yours in a shared solidarity of good music and even better company. Still smiling as he raised the bottle to his lips.

---

For a while it was just a back and forth interrogation. As the hunter asked about your likes and dislikes, or other little things about you. Never going too deep into the core of your relationship. And as you watched his big hand tear at the bottle label, you finally realised why. 

Dean Winchester was nervous. 

He was afraid of what he’d learn was actually between you once he got around to it. Unwilling to risk facing rejection in case you turned out to be just a hunting buddy. And he clearly wasn’t fully ready to go there just yet. 

So instead, you let him ask his questions. The butterflies in your stomach having a field day as you let them fly free every time Dean rewarded your words with a happy sigh and a goofy smile. Your boyfriend was slowly but surely getting to know you again as you shared little superficial tidbits with him, each of which was always greeted with happy smiles or surprised laughs. 

“Wow (Y/N)... You’re my dream girl,” Dean said with another happy sigh when there was finally a break in the constant stream of questions. “I just wish I could remember…” He grimaced a little; worry tainting his own eyes as he looked over at you. 

“Are you… Alright?” You asked, heart squeezing painfully at the unease on his features. Only realising that the worry painting his eyes a much darker green was a direct reaction to the pain in your own when you allowed yourself to fully feel it a millisecond after the question left you. Dean’s hand gently reached out, holding onto your hand as his eyes focused on yours. Putting all his energy into showing you the sincerity of his whispered words. 

“I’m awesome. Even better now that you’re here in fact. My memory’s coming back slowly, and…” 

As the soft smile reached your lips from the little hint of flirting he’d attempted to sneak in there, his own eyes brightened easily again. A slight mischievous edge to the upturned full lips. Clearly he’d decided to shift the topic back to happier things, to keep you smiling. Just like he always used to do when you were stuck in your own shadows of nightmares and bad hunts.

“Hey… So, I just relearned a ton of shit. Like, the fact that there’s angels,” Dean started back up again. His words were innocent enough, though you knew this was going somewhere, simply by the glint in his green eyes. Yet, you let it happen. Knowing the cheesy line would make you roll your eyes but finding the hunter too cute to care. 

“So, are you an angel? ‘Cause… Hell, you’re so beautiful I forgot my pickup line,”

The mixed-up line and little jab at his own temporary memory loss caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. You laughed out loud, not just a chuckle or a breathy imitation of a laugh. For the first time since you heard about Dean’s accident from Sam, you properly laughed. 

The way only Dean could make you laugh.

“Wow that laugh…” Dean whispered the words after nearly a minute of silence broken only by your soft laughter. His eyes wide with wonder and a careful warm smile of his own. The pure joy in his eyes making it seem as if you'd just performed a miracle, instead of just laughing with the man you loved. 

“Hey, (Y/N)... How can I make you laugh again?”

“Why?” You said, the last remains of laughter still in your voice as you leaned your head a little to the side, throwing him a quizzical look.

“‘Cause that right there’s the most beautiful sound in the world,” His words were awed and honest when he finally found the breath to whisper them into the small space between you where you were seated on the edge of the motel bed. Hidden from Sammy, Cas and the rest of the world. These words were just for you.

The innocent and pure honesty in the awed whispers leaving your adorable amnesiac boyfriend squeezed at your heart as you blushed. Taking a second to find your voice again as you felt as if you’d somehow left your own body. Floating just by the ceiling in a soft bubble of Dean’s gentle, careful love and adoration.

“You, Dean Winchester, are a flirt,” Was all you managed to say when you finally found your voice again. Your hand going up to your cheek, in hopes of calming the furious heat from your blushing. Damn it, you felt like you were back in school. Going through puppy love all over again. With your boyfriend of two years to boot.

“I’m not flirting… I promise! I’m just genuinely captivated by you,” Dean’s voice was just slightly louder than the previous low whisper as he lifted your hand off of your cheek, only to replace it with his softly shaking fingers. The way he touched you felt like a million fireworks and like the definition of pure love. Easily teasing some unwanted tears out of your eyes that you assured him were happy ones with a silent shaky smile. 

“Hell, maybe it’s just me being a little too hopeful. But the way I feel…” He continued, gently wiping at your tears. His voice breaking over the words as he kept his soft eyes on you. Their warmth only shaken by the same nervousness you could feel in his touch and hear in his voice as the bravest man you ever met finally asked you the question that had been hanging in the air between you the whole evening.

“Please tell me that there’s something here. Something that I’ve forgotten,” Dean’s voice was thick with emotion as he finally found the words. Forming them like a prayer to you, instead of a question. A wish upon one of the million stars he seemed to be discovering in your tear stained eyes. 

“‘Cause this is real, I know it. My palms are all warm, my heart’s in my throat and I can’t stop smiling. Hell, I’ve never felt this way before, but I know it’s real. Well… I don’t remember feeling this way at least,” The final words were followed by a breathless chuckle and light playful commentary of his own situation, teasing another teary smile out of you as he brushed your (Y/H/C) hair out of your eyes. 

Yet there was nothing but honesty in them. Hell, you could feel it. His shaky hand, tracing the shape of your jaw as if he was colouring in a masterpiece, filling you with his colours. The warmth of his smile, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Both showing you how he felt, more than what words ever could. 

“It’s just… I can’t explain it, but when I look at you, I feel like I’m home,” It was your turn to reach a shaking hand up, gently wiping away the tears making green eyes swim. His own words pushing the hunter over some unseen edge and making the tears flow silently over his cheeks. But there was no pain there, no sadness. Just love. 

Your beautiful soldier, the man with a bigger heart than anyone else, was crying because he had no other outlet for the feelings that were overflowing in his heart. And, as you wiped away another tear, lost in his overflowing eyes, like looking at the reflection of a forest through ripples in a lake, you felt your own tears spill over again. Just as much out of love as those of the man in front of you.

Taking a shaky breath, you gave your hunter a weak smile as you leaned in. Letting your forehead touch his and making sure the words stayed just between the two of you. Your heart racing and hands shaking with giddy nervousness. Just like it’d been nearly two years ago. 

Even after two years of endless ‘I love yous’ and sweet whispered words, you were surprised you were still as shy as you were back when you first confessed your feelings to the hunter. But, looking at the wordless confession that was spilling from his eyes in the shape of tears, you found the courage to repeat your words. Words that would forever be tattooed on your heart and soul. Curses or memory loss be damned.

“I love you Dean. You’re my heart, my home and my light at the end of every tunnel,” You whispered into the small sliver of air between the two of you. Your smile echoed his as you watched the hunter react to your words, finding new hope in them even as you spoke. 

“I loved you the first time you yelled at me for taking stupid risks at a hunt. I loved you even more when you let me into your inner world. And I’ve loved you more and more each and every day, since you became my boyfriend two years ago,” Your voice was shaking as you shared a piece of your heart with the man in front of you, the only one you ever really wanted to make memories with. 

The effect was instant. 

Your confession was rewarded with a wide-eyed smile, filled with wonder. Green eyes brightening, the same way they had back when you’d shared your heart with him for the first time, two years earlier. Not willing to take his eyes of yours; his shaking hand clumsily sought out yours on the cool sheets as the careful smile grew bright enough to blind you. 

“Boyfriend. I’m your boyfriend. So that means you’re… You’re my girlfriend? Wow, just… Really? Wow,” Dean’s words were barely audible as he spoke in a hushed, awed whisper. Happy, relieved laughter bubbling through the man as your words fully sank in. Already forming new memories together before the old ones had even found their way back to him. 

“Damn... I’m one hell of a lucky guy,” He added, the smile widening as he lifted his forehead from yours, replacing it with a timid careful kiss before he turned on the bed. Hand still holding onto yours. Clearly ready to shout the happy news to the world as his elated laugh made your two friends jump and turn towards the two of you.

“Hey! Did you hear that Sammy? (Y/N) said she’s mine!”

----

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​ @woodworthti666​ @defenderrosetyler​

All Story Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @winchest09​ @hobby27​ 

Well, Hello There Stranger Tag: @feelmyroarrrr​ 

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Kill Me Hardly (Ch.4)

Notes: Tai’s Point of View in the beginning. She/you used

@youtubequeens : It’s a roller coaster, lol

Warnings: cussing, deranged criminal, poor excuse of sibling rivalry, death, PTSD, ect. Read at your own risk

…….

He fucking hated it. Craving warmth and friendship, a familiarity that he’d once known. For so long he’d push those feelings down, and then a fucking ethereal ghost had to show up, tearing down the walls that he’d built, while wearing a little heart on her sleeve while not giving a shit.

He wanted to strangle the damned woman to death, well, to another death.

He was too prideful, he knew, but he had demons of his own that were locked tightly within his personal hell, and this fucking...annoying angel, he guessed, seemed to calm them. He didn’t let her know that, though.  

 Two months. Two months he fought to keep those barriers up, metaphorical walls had been covered in thorns, and for what?

What was he even fighting for? He questioned himself. Memories of blood and lifeless eyes filled his mind. It was such a dark place that he’d tried to shut out for the longest time. He ran from his fear, yet he had embraced whatever life had thrown at him. He had spent so much time either stalking the streets, in hospitals, or behind bars, and he was getting tired of it all.  

The ghost’s company actually helped. He had to tear his gaze away from her. Telling himself that she wasn’t special, she was a dead woman walking. She was a thorn in his side until she could move on. His own words hurt him, for he knew that she was more than that.

Brick by brick, she seemed to remove, and yet, he found himself placing three or four more on that wall.

 Then, he woke up without her in the house for once in two months. Empty. Cold. He couldn’t help but think. He didn’t know how much influence she had on him, until he began panicking. Did she finally cross over? He should feel relieved, he berated himself. He didn’t. He felt as if he had accomplished nothing, and now the only one to seem to really give a shit about him, was gone.

Hours later, he seen your figure, and yelled out his displeasure, sounding more violent than he meant too, because he was scared. Then your eyes met his, and his world stilled, and then cracked as you admitted to what you’ve heard.

No, this couldn’t be, couldn’t it? His stubborn, stupid little ghost was actually fleeting, this time when he finally decided that he tolerated her company. It would be hours later when he would see you again, but he couldn’t help but feel weighed down by the news, how you looked with a broken heart, and how he was feeling such feelings that he never really did want to.

He actually gave a genuine damn about somebody who he could say that was stuck to him. Tears slid down his own cheeks as he hastily rubbed them away. It’s been so long since he had cried for another person. The last one was for the kid who he was trying to save. Opening a pack of smokes, he looked at the thing with disgust as he threw the things in the garbage can, opting instead to light his favorite candles, the vanilla cream one that oddly smelled like you.

He couldn’t save you, even though he kept saying that he wanted to kill you. He awoke later with your hand floating through his hair, a gentle expression of care marred your features, and he couldn’t help but sigh. No, he couldn’t think about such thoughts. You were going to die. Then the two of you began talking, and then, it hit him on how truly lonely and fucking scared you must’ve been.

No warmth, no safety, nobody to care about you or hug you, or brush away your tears, as your family grieved for your dying body.

A dumbass, is what he had felt, another set of tears stinging his eyes as he took your exhausted, tired form in. You weren’t fully dead, but you looked like that’s what you wanted to be. He had to be alone and think some more. After telling you that he was going to take a nap, he sat on his bedroom floor and thought. You were dying, and although he could understand why that you stuck to him like glue, you did things that he wanted to do. You stuck by him as he hurt those people, taking their money as you helped be his eyes and ears, never betraying his trust.

Then he turned on the news in his bedroom, to get his mind off of things. Tough luck for him, for when he was about to switch the channel, the subject had changed, revealing a very familiar face of a certain caught criminal. Your brother, he couldn’t help but think as certain physical similarities between the two of you had matched. There was no doubt that the young, hooded-eyed young man was related to you.  

He needed to talk to you.

…………

Here you were, staring at the man with bewilderment and wonder. Who was he, and what did he do to Taishiro?

“Stop fuckin’ lookin’ at me like that.” He griped across the dining room table.

 “But it’s so weird, you look so soft.” You said.

“Pft. Ya have a weird image of ‘soft’. Anyway, let’s get started. Ya don’t ‘ave enough time, an’ probably need to make peace, right?” He asked suddenly, and it confused you.

“Peace with what?”

“Yer brother. Fucker got arrested last night’, and you and I are gonna see him.” He said smoothly, and it caught you off guard.

“What?” Was all your brain could ask.

“Ya heard me! We’re gonna see yer brother! Ya wanna, or not?” He snapped, and your heart pounded in your chest. Although it was two months, why was he doing this for you? Didn’t you annoy the hell out of him, constantly? You asked him, and he groaned into a sigh, palming his face with exasperation.

“The sooner ya make peace, the easier it is for ya to finally fuckin’ leave.” Came out harshly, he bit his lip, as if embarrassed by his own words. It had hurt, yes, but he was right. You didn’t want to be like those spirits who weren’t at peace. The bloodied ones who had an emptiness to their eyes, stalking old memories that they only knew.

“Will you be my voice, Tai-chan?” You asked, instead, and he looked at you as if baffled.

“What else, ya Ninny? Tch! Don’t let anybody, even me, say stupid shit like that to ya!” He huffed out, and you smiled despite the churning of nerves within your stomach.

………

It was easier to visit than you expected. With a roll of her eyes, the secretary had one police officer escort Tai into the cells, you following as you gathered your courage, sick to your stomach. You wanted to face him and your fears.  

“I’ll leave you to him.” The officer said finally, opening a metal door, and Taishiro gave a curt nod as the two of you went inside. It was a fairly large, yet empty room, surrounded by chairs and in front of the chairs, were different, mostly empty cells. Save for one.

You swallowed thickly you had easily found your brother, who was looking down, hooks underneath his eyes as he resembled a pale, sickly shell of his former self.

“Ya sure ya wanna do this?” Tai asked thickly. You stared at him, seeing his mouth pursed in a thin line, eyes trained onto your brother with a look of fury and yet exasperation. He seen the type, you knew, yet his hot-blooded anger wasn’t aimed at you. It seemed as if it never was, not this type.

“I’ll be fine. I just…want...closure, I guess.” You admitted, looking at the shell who use to protect you from bullies. As the two of you neared closer, you felt nauseated and tired, but it was as if it was nothing compared to the loneliness and lack of warmth and closure that you had felt for a little over a year.

You and Tai still as your brother raised his head. A sinking dread churned your insides as you felt as if you knew what was about to come.

Your brother’s eyes met yours, and you froze.

“Holy shit.” Taishiro murmured.

“Yeah.”

    “T-the fuck? I-is this a nightmare? You’re suppose to be dead!” Your brother shouted, his words echoed in the almost empty room.

“Not dead, thanks to your shitty skills with a blade.” You swallowed thickly, tears threatening to spill, already. You weren’t sure if you were ready for this.

“Why did you do it? Was it worth it? Leaving us all behind while you snorted crack beside some dumpster with your ratty friends?” You couldn’t help but growl out, anger bubbling within you as tears of frustration threatened to boil over, yet you couldn’t care less, as all of your focus was pinned onto your brother.

“What do you know?! They were all I’ve got! You know Mom and Dad held you onto a pedestal, leaving me to fend for myself!” He gripped the bars, knuckles turning white as he stared at you with wild-eyed abandon. He wasn’t making a very compelling argument, and you knew that it was due to the drugs.  

“Says the guy who had a scholarship in Nursing! What was the real reason for that night, dumbass? You’ve been missing for months, and finally! Finally when you visited, Mom and Dad welcomed you in, crying with relief...and then…and then….” You choked, holding your hand to your throat as you pinned your brother with a hateful, seething stare mixed with agony. He stilled, as if seeing your wound   for the first time.

Paling, he fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he grit his teeth, his eyes widened as fat droplets of wet fell onto the floor.

“You were in the way! I was gonna just hack the old goat and hag! But then, the inheritance would just fall onto you, instead! I wanted to spare you, I did! But I needed that hit, that high! You’ll never understand!” He growled out, facing towards you with a furious glare. Your stomach sunk as the realization had hit you. You weren’t the only target planned for that night, and you were wasting your time with somebody who had replaced you, along with the rest of his family, so easily. The knowledge of the fact had hurt worse than you wound, you swallowed thickly.

“We’re done here.” You choked into a whisper.  

“Okay.” Your attention snapped towards Taishiro. He was so quiet, and yet you’ve never seen so much fury and hurt burn underneath those amber irises, before. His hands clenched as if itching to tear the other man apart.

“Let’s go home.” He growled out, instead, and you nodded dumbly, following him as your brother shouted more obscure things, wedging that metaphorical knife deeper into you, still. Knocking on the metal door, the police officer’s face looked pale.

“I didn’t know that he was that bad. Are you alright, Sir?” He asked, and Taishiro huffed out a nod.

“Man’s been admitting that he was gonna kill the girl’s parents, too.” He thoughtfully added. The officer nodded.

“Yes...we have the right to record, and so it’ll show up in his court hearings. If you mind me asking, who is this man to you?” The officer prodded gently.

“His sister’s a friend of mine.” Was all he said. The two of you moved in silence as he unlocked the front door to his house, actually holding it open for you, this time. You could tell that he was worried about you, glancing at your grieved expression as you felt almost nothing but numb as the realization had hit you. He was going to cause your parents more grief after his confession, you couldn’t help but think bitterly.  

“Sit down.” It was a demand, yet something in his voice sounded as if it were pleading. Curiously, you looked at him. Once again, he was biting his bottom lip, his hands clenched as if he was preventing himself from crying.  

“Okay.” You said softly as you sat on the couch. You wanted to touch him, to hug him, and let him comfort you, yet you couldn’t. He sat close to you, though, and the action was rather comforting.

“I known them since high school,” He began, shifting himself to be in a comfortable position, eyeing the carpeted floor, rather than at you. Yet you listened closely with awe. “older adults who preyed on hurtin’ kids like me. They offered me a way out from underneath my pa’s boots, an’ I took it.”

“Older adults?”

“Yeah. Yakuza wannabes who plucked out fledglings for sport. Anyways, the group taught me how to fight, steal, sneak, and then allow me to crash at their homes. I was good at it, an’ soon, I began thrivin’ on my own, crashing at different hotels, an’ runnin’ with them. I grew to hate the fuckers, but it was the only home I’ve really known.”

You opted to say nothing as he continued, letting your hand to rest inches away from his as he glanced at it.

“Been doin’ gigs that they’ve wanted me to do. I never really wanted to murder anybody, but they sure as hell did. Laugh at the corpses of drug-dealers, robbers, salesmen, shop-owners…ya get the idea. They were a bunch of sick bastards, but they were my sick bastards. Then...this fuckin’ kid, all starry-eyed and hopeful, wanted to join.” Tai’s voice cracked, but he swallowed thickly as he continued.

“He had to support his ma. He’d start doin’ crimes tryin’ to impress us. He annoyed the fuck outta everybody else, but he took a shine towards me. I was the youngest, and my ego was easily stroked when some hotshot declared me as “big brother”. So I ran a few gigs with ‘im, helpin’ him get money for his mother ‘cause he was a fresh face, and wasn’t an asshole crone who thought he was better than me.”

“….” Your mouth was pursed as you listened closely.

“His ma was nice. Reminded me of mine. Cooked for me whenever I came, totally unaware of our lil’ activities. She helped with the orphanage and donated a lot of stuff. Anyways. Like Icarus, he flew up too close to the sun. Word got out about it. I didn’t get into any trouble, seein’ that I was the “baby” of the family, but….they didn’t like that a young, inexperienced hotshot bargin’ in on ‘em. When I came to his house to pick ‘im up for a job...the door was unlocked.”

“What happened, Taishiro?” You gently prodded. He looked worse for wear as he glanced at you.

“He and his mother’s throats were slit open, and the fuckers had the gall to stay and wait for me, and laugh ‘bout it. Laughed as I fuckin’ stood there, seein’ white film over their distraught faces. I couldn’t help it. I fuckin’ snapped.”

“You…”

“Did what I should’ve done years ago. Reached for the same knife, inspected it, and lunged it in the closest one’s throat. I hate killin’, but I felt like that kid and his ma could do some justice. Burned the bodies n’ place, never looked back. Course word got out that I wasn’t with ‘em, anymore. I found myself doin’ things what his mother had did, and felt as if I was atonin’ fer her son. How I should’ve left him alone, shouldn’t let ‘im get so close to me.” Taishiro finished, gripping the couch as you let everything sink in.

“His death wasn’t your fault.” You said. He sighed.

“I know that, now, but the guilt of how I easily murdered my comrades, and letting this kid prance around me while I knew that my former gang were murderers, shook me. Started findin’ myself turn towards thievin’, giving money towards the same orphanage that his ma donated to, and other charities. Dabi and Tomura found me, then. Knew that I was good at my job, an’ were good at shuttin’ up the police.” He finished, laying fully back with glistening eyes.

“Taishiro...you went through so much.”  You said. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he had went through, as well.

“I saw myself in ya. Goin’ through all of this crazy shit, your mind on the brink of insanity at the exhaustion as the ones closest to ya hurt ya. We both have nobody.” He shrugged.

“I have you, though.” You admitted, letting the words flow out before you could stop them. He then stared at you in surprise.

“Yeah, I guess we have each other.” He admitted it softly. Despite of everything happening, you couldn’t help but let out a small smile.

…….

He took a break from being a criminal the day after, the two of you just taking a walk in the park as he snacked, and you enjoyed the view around you. After both crying your eyes out in separate rooms, he offered to take a break away from the violence and hurt, if only for a little bit, and you agreed hastily.

“Whatcha gonna do when I’m gone?” You asked, floating beside him as he popped a piece of candy into his mouth.

“Don’t fuckin’ know. I’m twenty-nine, been doin’ this shit since fifteen.”

“F-fifteen!? No wonder why you’re emotionally stunted!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“Wish I could do that. So? What about charity work? Or a job that requires you to be swift, like housekeeping!”

“Housekeepin’?”

“Yeah! I use to work as a housekeeper for the nursing home! It’s a pretty rewarding job.” You grinned.

“Pft. If ya went there now, could ya see the gho-

“Tai, noooo those are nice, elderly people! You can’t make a joke about them being dead!” You pursed your lips.

“What? You’ll have somethin’ in common, then.” He snickered, and you huffed.  

“Okay, you blonde giraffe, do you have any ideas?”

“Probably work as a stripper.”

“You’re kidding.” You deadpanned, giving him a guffawed look of disbelief. He grinned at your expression.

“I don’t know, Dabi might hit me up. Might look good in heels.” He chuckled, but you were fighting with your dirty mind, trying not to imagine him looking at you seductively as the lingerie rode up- no! No!

“You can’t be a stripper, Taishiro.”

“Oh, an’ why not? Might be afraid of seein’ something ya might like?” He grinned sleazily, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yes.

“Nope! Do you even know how to dance? Or work your way around a pole?”

“Hey! I’d make a pretty damned good stripper!” He shouted, and you bit your lip.

“We’re in public, Tai-chan.” You said instead.

“So?”

“A bunch of kids just heard you shout to thin air that you’d make a good stripper.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up and c’mon.” He growled, yet there was pink dusting his cheeks. How cute, you thought.

………………..

      Your two months left had slowly became one. His attitude had shifted into something calmer, friendly on some days, and it didn’t help your growing emotions. You liked him. You didn’t know if you loved him, but you knew that the two of you had helped each other, and made a great team. You wished that you could live certain moments forever, but not in the gruesome way some spirits did.

 The missions had dwindled down as to your amazement and pride, he started doing more charity work, helping out Dabi’s girls and other places such as the orphanage through non-violent crimes. It was as if he was another different person, despite him still being snappy to you, it was a little bit softer. Of course he didn’t change over night, he had a lot to learn. Such as biting his tongue when there were children nearby, trying his best to keep his temper in check, and you, still being a little shit, but less, still liked to rile him up sometimes.

“Oh! I’m going to kill you!” He huffed, crossing his arms as you smirked, standing behind him as he made pottery for a small business, earning a little bit of money.

“Maybe next time, I should lift a penny for you to prove that I’m here?” You grinned, and he gave you an ugly, disapproving look.

“I’m not Demi Moore, an’ you’re not Patrick Swayze. Fuckin’ cut it out.”

“Whooooa~!” You started singing. He turned to you and growled.

“Don’t you fuckin-”

“My Loooooooove! My Daaaaarlin~!” You laughed manically as his ears and cheeks flushed red. Oh, it was a treat, you thought with glee.

“If ya somehow miraculously make it alive, I’m gonna make you sit through so many fuckin’ horror movies.” He huffed, turning his attention back the pottery. You smiled, seeing his ears flush with red.

………..

  Fate didn’t want to give you a break, however. It was the day of Halloween, and you went back to the hospital, having another, dreadful epiphany. Fear churned within your gut as you tried your best to rush towards your body’s resting place.

“-doctor, please. I’ve already lost one baby...I can’t lose another!” Your mother’s dreadful wailing greeted you when you finally had reached your destination. The old man’s eyes held nothing but sorrow and sympathy. You glanced at your body. It looked pale and thin, and you knew that if you couldn’t inhabit it soon, it was going to wither.

“I’m terribly sorry, but it has to be done tonight. You and your husband have been grieving for the longest time, and Kami knows how long it’ll be until her body decides to shut down itself.” His gentle tone wafted over you as you clutched your chest. It was sooner than you’ve expected, but you felt oddly relieved and yet so scared.  

You swallowed thickly and you rushed to tell Taishiro.

…….

“What?” He looked pale, disbelieving at you as the noodles slipped from his chopsticks.

“We have all day until night falls. So...would you like to spend the remaining time of my life with me?” You asked softly.

“Of fuckin’ course, Sweetheart. Where do ya wanna go?” He didn’t hesitate, and if you could blush, you knew that you would. You glanced up at him.  

“Everywhere.”

………………..

   The two of you just took your time as he took you to Disneyland’s Halloween theme park, enjoying your lightened up face with pure joy and innocent happiness for the first time since he’s met you. He was the only one who could eat, of course, but he delighted you in describing the texture and sweetness of each candy and treat, your eyes shining with your own memories as you replayed them aloud.

Of course there were stares, but for once, you didn’t try to egg him on. He was sweet to you, and you knew that he was crumbling on the inside. It hurt you, seeing him like this, yet the both of you wanted to spend your last moments together.

“Ugh! Damn it, it’s getting dark!” He shouted as the night had started to crawl upwards into the sky, and you knew that you didn’t have much time left. You were correct, seeing your ghostly arm burn brighter with white. Yet, you didn’t feel too scared. For over a year, this is what you’ve been wanting. The people you loved dearly, could grieve properly and move on, and you were more than willing to accept that.

“Taishiro.” You said slowly, catching his attention. His eyes widened with horror.

“Damn it! Y-you should’ve been wakin’ up! Why does it fuckin’ have to be you, huh?” He growled into a choking sound, trying to grip your arm, but no avail. You felt oddly peaceful as you stared into a teary-stained face, your body burning brighter as you looked in amazement. It didn’t hurt, but your fingers had evaporated into floating white butterflies, floating along loftily, as if seeking your body.

“Don’t fuckin’ leave!” He tried gripping them, but no avail, your heart lurched at his determination.  

“I’ll never regret meeting you. In the next life, I hope that we can probably become friends. Perhaps something more. I hope that you have wonderful parents, and an amazing job. Please don’t lose hope in this life.” You said softly, more of the butterflies evaporated from your body.

“Y/n!” He cried out, gritting his teeth. You could only give him the location of you hospital, finally as your world floated to black.

…………..  

 The reference is Ghost, a classic 90’s movie if anybody was curious

[shadedrose01]

Tony the Teddy

Ship: None. Platonic (parental/paternal) relationship between Peter Parker and Tony Stark

Summary: Peter loses his teddy bear, and gains something more.

Tags: Febufluff, Day 10, Teddy Bears, Peter Has a Teddy Bear, His name is Tony, But Tony and Tony Stark are not the same thing/person, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Aunt May is a good aunt whos just trying her best, Mentions of uncle ben - Freeform, Light Angst, Peter is a sad boy for a bit in this, But Tony Stark makes it better, Fluff, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, Tony Stark Has A Heart

Day ten of Febufluff: "Teddy Bear"! (From the platonic list)

--

There was one constant in Peter's life growing up. When everything around him was swirled into chaos at the age of 7, when his parents got onto a plane and never came home, his uncle ben knelt down in front of him, told him the heartbreaking news, and gave him something.

A stuffie. A plush teddy bear with soft fabric in the shape of Iron Man's armour, apparently a gift his mother had planned to give him for his birthday but never got the chance to. Ben had given it to him, and had reassured him that he was so strong, as strong as a real life superhero, as strong as Iron Man, and that they'd get through this, the pain, the grief, the loss, together.

And Peter had held onto it tight, tears in his eyes and running down his cheeks, and had promised to his parents, to his uncle Ben and his Aunt May, and to himself that he would never let it go, no matter what. Later that month, Peter would be sat in front of the tv, eyes glued to the screen and holding the teddy close as Tony Stark announced that he was Iron Man. From that point on, the bear was named Tony.

Tony stayed by his side throughout his roller coaster of a life. Dragged behind him during the few childhood years he had left, as a shoulder to cry on whenever the bullies got too much and a buddy to talk to while he had no friends. Then, when he found Ned and grew out of the age where bringing around a Teddy bear was acceptable, Tony stayed home, but he was always on Peter's bed, always there, a constant presence and reminder of warmth, comfort and love, of security and safety, and home.

Then Ben died, right in front of his eyes, in his arms, and Peter's life was flipped upside down again, but still, Tony was there. He remembers coming home from the hospital, still coated in dried up blood, his uncles blood, blood that was split because of him, it was all because of him, all his fault-, and grabbing the bear as soon as he hits his bed, burying his face into it and sobbing loudly, his river of tears soaking into the matted fur. But he had remembered his uncle's words, "With great power comes great responsibility", had remembered that he was strong, that he had to be strong for his aunt and had pulled himself together, and had pushed forward, even as he longed to give up.

Everything after that was a blur, becoming Spider-Man on a whim, meeting the real Tony Stark, fighting in Germany, the 'internship', the vulture, homecoming, the real internship. It all happened so fast, and yet, there Tony was, still sat on his bed like all those years ago, looking worn and torn from good use, but still there, still kicking, still around.

But now, Peter couldnt find him. He couldnt find him, and he was freaking out.

Peter was searching his room, practically tearing it apart trying to find the precious stuffie. Where could he be? He was on the bed this morning, Peter knows, he remembers him being in his normal spot before he left for school, but now hes not there, hes not anywhere, and he knows Happy is going to be there soon, and he cant find Tony-

"Peter? Are you ready?" His aunt calls out from the living room, and Peter shakes his head violently, anxiously, still checking under his bed and around his drawers for any sign of the Iron Man plushie.

"I can't find Tony." He calls back, his actions getting more frantic as he searches places hes already checked again and again, his chest tighten and stomach dropping more and more as time goes on. He needs to find him, he has to-

"Tony?" Aunt May sounds amused but her show show her concern as he rounds the corner to his room, not even flinching at the scattered mess of it. "Isn't he who you're going to see?"

Peter groans, stopping momentarily to run his hands through his hair. "No! I mean, yes, but not the same one!" At his aunt's puzzled look, Peter expands on his explanation. "You know, the teddy bear? Iron man costume, kinda- kinda frizzy looking?"

His aunt's eyes brighten with recognition, but also with confusion, and a hint of guilt. "Ohhh, that guy? I thought you weren't into stuffies anymore, so I gave him away."

Peter chokes on his spit, his heart breaking, eyes widening. "You- you did?! May! Uncle Ben gave him to me, and he was from my parents!" His voice is high pitched, shaky and loud as tears burning his eyes, feeling ripples of loss rushing through his body. It feels like losing his parents, losing Ben all over again.

Aunt May makes a noise of sympathy and her face scrunches up with guilt, a downward tilt to her lips. She reaches forward and places a hand onto his cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth soothingly. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry, I thought it would be fine, I didn't think it would hurt you-"

"It-its okay." He sniffles, blinking back his tears and forcing a smile on to his face as he stands, swallowing back the lump in his through. "You're right, I should be over it by now."

His aunt's face scrunches even more, her face turning even more gut wrenchingly guilty. "No, baby, that's not-"

Peter feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and, knowing it was from Happy, takes his escape as soon as physically possible. "I think Happy's here, I gotta go." He hears Aunt May call after him as he pushes past her and out the door, getting into the awaiting convertible quickly.

He isn't mad at his aunt, or blame her for getting rid of the teddy, she didnt know any better. She didnt know how important he was to Peter, but it still hurts, even though Peter knows it shouldn't. Its just a teddy bear, but he still finds himself wiping away stubborn tears the entire drive to the compound, feeling one small inconvenience away from sobbing his heart out.

He says a small thank you to Happy once they finally arrive, not noticing the man's worries stare as he takes a deep breath and makes his way to his mentor's lab, the doors opening immediately for him.

As soon as he walks into the room, Mr. Stark is already on his case, looking up from his project with a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowed. "Hey kid, everything alright? Happy said you were quiet on the way over."

Peter shakes his head and reinforces the fake smile on his face, hating the way his cheeks twitch with the effort. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay." His voice is quiet, subdued even to his own ears as he walks to his station, picking up a pair of tweezers even if he has no plan to use them.

Mr. Stark snorts at him, giving him a look. "Yeeeeah, you see, Happy also told me that you were crying the entire way up here too, and that little act you're trying to pull isn't sitting so well with me right now, bud." Peter just stares down at his table and shrugs, watching as the tools get blurrier and blurrier as wetness fills his eyes again. Mr. Starks tone softens significantly as he places a hand on to Peter's shoulder. "Come on, Pete, what's going on in the head of yours, hm?"

Peter sniffs and wipes his eyes with his sleeve, mumbling. "It's stupid."

Mr. Stark rubs a thumb against his shoulder reassuringly. "If its upsetting you, it isn't stupid, kid."

"It is. It's just a teddy bear." Even as hard as he tries to keep his composure, his voice cracks at the end of his sentence, his eyes fill up again and he breaks as soon as the words are out of his mouth, placing a hand up to his lips as the first loud sobs echoes in the room.

Mr. Stark makes a small noise, before pulling him into his chest, holding him tightly as Peter sobs, soaking his old, ratty tshirt with his tears, hand curled into the fabric as he spills everything, how his uncle gave him the bear when it was little, how it came from his parents, all they've been through together, and mostly how much it meant to him. It takes a few minutes for Peter to calm back down again, and as much as he hates to admit it, he feels quite a bit better now that the tightness in his chest has ceased, the grip on his lungs loosening slightly as he got everything off his chest.

"See?" Peter chuckles wetly, sniffling. "Stupid."

"Look at me, bud." Mr. Stark pulls away, and thumbs away the wetness still littering his cheeks, tilting his head up to make sure he's looking him in the eye. "Just because it's a stuffed teddy bear doesnt mean it didnt mean a lot to you," Peter goes to rebuttal, but Mr. Stark blows over him. "And just because you know your aunt didn't mean to, its allowed to hurt. You're allowed to feel this way, Pete, it shows that you care." He smiles gently at the boy, who smiles back shakily.

"Yeah, I-I guess so."

"I know so." Mr. Stark states like it's a fact, patting Peter's cheeks and causing him to giggle, the sound making Mr. Starks entire face soften. "Feel better now?"

Peter nods firmly, smiling easily now. "Yeah, think so... thank you, Tony."

"Of course." The older man gives his shoulders one last squeeze before letting go completely and stepping back, walking back towards his project, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Now that we're done with all that emotional shit, wanna help me on this?"

Peter just grins back at him. "Hell yeah."

A few days later, when Peter comes back for his internship again, a stuffed Iron Man teddy bear is sat at his station. Theres no note or anything attached to it, and Mr. Stark never brings it up, but Peter knows it's from him. And, as he watches the man working in the corner of his eye, he smiles softly down at the teddy bear, his heart warm. He may have lost Tony the teddy, and one of his last connections to his parents and his uncle, but maybe, just maybe, he can make some new memories with this little guy by his side. New memories with his friends, with his new father figure, and his new family as a whole.

[literatehiss]

Try Again - A series of firsts

Read from the start on tumblr here or on AO3 here Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 First Dinner Elias had been busy the first day, setting things up and probably bribing some people into making the adoption process go by much faster. Jon had heard a knock at his new bedroom door and a bowl of pasta had been pushed into his hands while Elias continued to talk on the phone.  The second day Elias had rushed off for a “very important meeting” just before dinner had ordered delivery for Jon just before he left.  It was on the third day since Elias had taken Jon away, three days since his grandmother had died, that the two of them finally sat down for a meal.

It had been delivery again, apparently, while Elias could and would cook occasionally, he generally didn’t bother especially since he was so very busy. It was Thai and Jon had never had it before, his grandmother must not have been fond of it. He thought it was going to be another meal spent alone and was surprised by the amount of food that came to the door. He was sat down at dinner table, crunching on a sort of battered dough sticks that were sweet and salty and peanut-ty type dish that he was working steadily towards completely demolishing when a suited arm reached over his shoulder and plucked a few of the battered sticks out of the plastic tub. “Slow down Jonathan, I would like to get some of them thank you.” Elias sat down opposite him and started portioning out the various containers. They ate in mostly silence and Jon was sipping gingerly at a citrusy sour soup when Elias finally spoke. “I am sorry that I have not been paying enough attention to you Jon. It has been a hectic few days. I hope you have not been too bored.” Jon shook his head, Elias had a large enough bookcase in his living room that, despite them perhaps not being for his age range, he had plenty to read. “Well I have to go back to the Institute tomorrow,” seeing Jon’s perplexed looked he explained, “The Magnus Institute, it is where I work. Anyway, you will be coming with me and while I suggest you find something to do to fill your time there, I will have some things I want you to specifically read and do while we are there.” And with no more explanation despite Jon’s insistent questions, Elias went back to picking at his food and somehow leaving Jon feeling like he was being watched while seemingly looking in a completely different direction.

First Day at the Institute The air was cold and Jon wrapped his coat around him as they walked to the Institute. Elias had given his ratty coat a derisive look and had muttered something about shopping but Jon hated the thought of having to go around shops to buy clothes and decided to leave the man to it. It was very early in the morning, half-past five and Jon wasn’t all too happy about being up this early. Elias pulled a set of keys from his own jacket and unlocked the front doors of the Institute. Jon looked down at his feet, at the shiny marble floors and waved his hand to watch his reflection. Jon’s trainers thudded against the floor as he ran to catch up with Elias who had walked away, his posh dress shoes clicking against the stone and then eventually wooden floors. He gazed at the large, ancient wooden desk that sat in the middle of Elias’s office before the man waved him over to a couch. “Get some more sleep Jon, we can have our first lesson once you wake up at a more reasonable time.”

First Lesson

“What are you scared of Jonathan?”

Elias had woken Jon up about an hour ago. There was a take-out mug of coffee and some kind of pastry in front of the older man, a mug of sweet tea and a breakfast sandwich in front of the seat Jon sat at. Elias watched in amused confusion as Jon picked the sandwich apart before eating all the layers individually.

“Spiders.”

“But why are you scared of spiders?” The man’s stare was off putting and Jon flushed, embarrassed by his own fear. The thought of the book made him feel a little sick and it almost put him off his breakfast.

“The book. Mr Spider hurt that other boy he was going to… he was going to eat me and I couldn’t do anything about it.” Elias nodded along.

“Right. So what you fear, was not the spider in particular, but that it could control what you did. That it could hurt you without you being able to resist in any way.”

“I-I-I g-guess so?” Jon hadn’t thought of it that way, but he couldn’t disagree with Elias’s words. The thought of being controlled certainly did make him feel scared.

“I want you to consider things that people are scared of, heights, the dark, spiders, for example and then I want you to think about the deeper reasons someone might be afraid of those things”

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with archiving, that’s what you want me for right?” Jon tried not to sound too confused, too desperate to do well.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older. I want you to work on that until mid-day. After you have had lunch you can have the rest of the day to yourself. I ask that you don’t wander too far, I recommend the library.” Elias looked away and left Jon staring at the piece of paper that lay in front of him.

First Argument

“No” “Jonathan-” “No!” “You are being unreasonable” “I don’t want to!!”

Elias leaned against Jon’s bedroom door with a heavy thud and sighed. “It is only a few hours, then we can leave. You can have as much of the buffet as you like, I won’t even scold you for eating too many sweets.”

The door creaked open to the face of the upset child Elias was trying to convince to come to the Institute fundraiser. So far he had failed to even get Jon into the suit laid out on his bed.

“Don’t wanna talk to a bunch of boring adults and that,” he gestured to the suit, “feels weird, I don’t like it” He had put on the white button-up but the trousers were just too much apparently. He was still wearing his pyjama bottoms.

“You don’t even need to talk to most of them, I just need to make sure certain people know you exist. Will you wear the suit if you can wear something else instead of those trousers?”

“Whatever I like?”

“As long as it is black, yes.”

“Is Ms Robinson going to be there?”

“No-”

The door slammed closed in his face and Elias spent a quick minute gentling his own rage and the rudeness. He raised his fist to knock on the door again.

Jon came out wearing the full suit, the only change being a long, plain black skirt. He held out a length of fabric in his hands, wordlessly asking Elias to tie it for him. Elias shrugged and accepted it, the outfit didn’t look too bad all things considered.

First Time Jon Went to Elias for Comfort

The fundraiser had gone better than Elias could have hoped for. Jon hadn’t caused a fuss and had spent most of his time trying everything on the large buffet. He had even tried a sip of Elias’s Champagne before scrunching his face up in disgust. He had met the other avatars gracefully and hadn’t said anything to insult any of them which was Elias’s biggest fear of this whole experience.

The night was coming to a close and Jon was acting oddly. He hadn’t been a chatterbox throughout the night, though Simon had gotten him into a conversation about different roller-coasters around the world, but he had become uncomfortable and sullen in the past few minutes. He finished his conversation with the Institute patron he was talking to and pulled Jon a little bit away.

“Jon, Jon what is wrong? You have been doing so well for me all night.”

He looked into Jon’s face to see tears building in his eyes.

“Jonathan?!” Jon flinched a little and put his hands over his ears and suddenly Elias knew exactly what was happening. You couldn’t be married to Peter for as long as he had without recognising the signs of someone getting overstimulated. He stood up from his crouch and hurriedly found Rosie, mentioning that he was heading out, pulling Jon with him. He didn’t bother waiting until they got home, dragging Jon to his office and pushing him onto the sofa. He left Jon for a moment to grab the young boy a glass of water. Normally with Peter, he would get him a glass of scotch and just leave him be, but Peter was a grown man, Jon was just a child.

Jon choked down the water with shaking hands. The shuddering eventually calmed down and Jon looked up at him with a hesitant look in his eyes. He seemed to stare at him for a moment before flinging himself into Elias’s arms, crying a little into his suit.

Elias was not an affectionate man, not like this. He was more used to pats on the shoulder, but something about Jon coming to him for comfort made his cold heart grow warm. He shifted and sat down onto the floor, letting his charge cry.

Jon might one day be a terrifying force of nature, but for now he was just a scared child and Elias had no problem making sure that he would associate Elias with comfort. It could only serve him well in the future and could never backfire, it wasn’t like he would grow fond of the child after all.

[arrow-dykenamics]

[deloresisout]

@armsdealing​   said  :  (dev anon) in the verse where she's, i think, abt her thirties-forties and sal dies, for how long does delores grieve? and how does she do it? how long does delores wait to get back into the dating scene? and how does she feel about it? a lot of widows feel guilty about doing so and that stops them for a while, did she feel this way or did she feel like sal would've wanted her to move on? for that matter, what *would* sal have wanted?

Anon Development Questions! || Accepting

        DELORES GRIEVES FOR A LONG, LONG TIME. It’s a roller coaster. It’s a heavy depression. It’s her thinking this is what happens when she marries a thug. It’s her thinking things just don’t add up. It’s her feeling vengeful. Delores is well put together on the outside. But inside, she’s doesn’t know whether she’s “coming or going” on some days. She’s dealt with her grandfather dying, she’s dealt with a young child dying, but having her husband die is so much different.         It’s additionally difficult raising her children. Explaining death to Bianca, defending Sal against Cassandra who hates him now. She also wonders how her daughters would feel, having another man live in their house.         When it comes to dating, Delores would also have difficulty. Ever since Sal was in prison, she missed having a sense of intimacy with her husband. Sure, she visited him in prison, wrote him loving letters, and generally communicated, but it just wasn’t the same. She wanted to see him daily. She wanted somebody to hold her. So that yearning amplifies tenfold when he’s dead -and he was still serving time? it’s terrible- she’s starved for face to face physical affection, guilty, but starved. 

       She doesn’t actively seek out lovers, though. Partly because Sal has a friend or two that wants to use this chance as a moment to slide into her life and she doesn’t...want to be with them. Delores, initially, has to frequently think about what Don Fiorello will think of her moving on. She’s suspicious if he would harm her or use her feelings of love for someone else against her in some form.      That being said, she would definitely cling to Emile after a short amount of time. Alternatively she would fall for someone slowly, gradually over shared interests [ex. an elderly, single Delores could easily and gradually fall in love with a man who owns an antique shop.]      If one of Sal’s ratty companions said that he would approve of Delores having a relationship with him, Delores would be unsure. But really? Sal is a selfish man. He would want her to just raise the girls, keep his memory alive. However, because Sal genuinely loves Delores, he would feel like shit seeing her so lonely and miserable...     So, he would come around. He would want her to move on. Find someone who can make her smile and laugh the way he did.

[amxrp]

hello again! before we jump into our first preview (!!) we'd like to thank each and every person who's posted in our tag so far! it's been a blast reading your introduction posts and getting to know you better! we're all looking forward to seeing what else you have in store for us throughout the buzz period! that being said: our first preview is going to be more on the traditional side and completely handy for those who beginning to map out their characters. under the cut you will find look at our eight member groups. as to stick with the salem spirit, each member group is representative of a different herb or plant that witches frequently use. we decided to go with an aesthetic approach with the descriptions. we hope in doing so you'll not only be able to have more wiggle room with the group that you choose, but that the descriptions may be of some use of you if you are having a difficult time choosing one! without further ado, here are our member groups! 🎃

foxglove

fireflies. hot chocolate with marshmallows. a canopy bed. 11:11. cottage in the woods. recognizing faces but forgetting names. freshly baked pies. the soft touch of velveteen. chiming grandfather clocks. first snowfall of the year. laughing with your eyes squeezed shut. loose glitter. falling asleep with a book in hand. rosy cheeks. piano music. butterflies in your stomach. old carnival rides. napping in a patch of sunlight. chunky sweaters. casual displays of affection.

lavender

crickets in the evening. falling asleep on someone's shoulder. handwritten letters. breezy afternoons. acoustic song covers. early morning commute. the comfort of your favorite childhood movie. vanilla extract. a palette stained by oil paints. wire frame glasses. practical presents. self-deprecating jokes. catching snowflakes on your eyelashes. post-it note reminders. the breakfast rush at a coffee shop. bullet journal ideas on pinterest. the taste of plain chapstick. water rushing in stone fountains. shopping for office supplies. reading online advice columns.

licorice

racing pulse. the burn of sour candy. clicking a zippo lighter. classic arcade games. playing mad scientist. lightning storms. grainy polaroid photos on instagram. gold medals. road rage. industrial architecture. losing your temper mid-argument. glasses of absinthe. stainless steel. flickering fluorescent lights. the tick of a metronome. tacky holiday decorations. mistakes made in permanent marker. purposely torn clothing. misplaced house keys. staying up to read horror stories on reddit.

nightshade

the taste of cold medicine. ghost stories. intricate stained glass patterns. moonlit fog. dogs barking in the distance. night vision camera footage. tired eyes. biting your tongue. songs heard from another room. sleep paralysis. washed out instagram filters. driving late at night. silent movies. stifling your own anger. black on black clothing. long walks through wooded paths. waking up alone. minimalist tattoos. poetry in a language you don't understand.

patchouli

windswept hair. mismatched craigslist furniture. getting in trouble for talking in class. music festivals. more cream than coffee. cinnamon sugar. rose gold. modern art galleries. freshly cut pomegranate. catching fireflies beneath the autumn moon. socks with cartoon animals. mistaking satellites for stars. putting laundry off until the last possible second. doodles on notebooks and napkins. making a blanket fort on a tuesday night. nostalgic visits to an old playground. trying to pet stray cats. three hour phone calls.

rosemary

sunshowers. long days at the beach. always remembering anniversaries. breakfast for dinner. self-care spa days. instagram fashion. daydreams of a vacation. new text message alerts. sand between your toes. crinkling candy wrappers. overusing emojis. orange juice with pulp. marathoning the latest netflix original. window sill full of succulents. lying to spare someone's feelings. aquarium tunnels. garden fresh produce. listening to lofi music. water gun fights. feeling sunbrunt and windswept.

sandalwood

full sketchbooks. deja vu. wind chimes. the feeling of being followed. peacock feathers. liminal spaces. befriending stray animals. thrift store accessories. the itch of curiosity. vivid dreams. paint on your clothes. sitting by the window in a café. roadside attractions. picking up a new hobby every week. bohemian interior design. reading newspaper articles from years past. craft store coupons. pressing flowers into an old book. progressive instrumental music. wearing patterns that clash.

thistle

late summer nights. discovering a new bruise. scalding hot showers. brutal honesty. old ripped denim. arguments with your parents. half-healed piercings. old books with yellowed pages. roller coaster drops. the smell of gasoline. crossword puzzles done in pen. truth or dare. standing around a bonfire. staying up late but waking up early. letting your hair grow out. "cursed image" humor. full-body ache after a cardio workout. wearing black even in the heat. ratty graphic t-shirts. procrastinating and still getting an a.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 25

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Twenty-Five, This is the First Day of My Life

Ella

About fifteen years later

I sat on the counter, my bare legs hanging down as I stuck my spoon directly into the pint of chocolate brownie ice cream. I had shrugged out of my button up, and was wearing my tank top and plaid uniform skirt. My hair was up in a bun. It was so fucking hot outside. My Chemistry book was in my lap as I did my best to be studious, even though I’d rather rip my hair out than read another word of biology. My final was coming up and it was too damn much.

"You're not my father, Castiel! You may look like him, but you're not him."

"Claire," Castiel grunted. I could hear footsteps padding down the steps to my right. "Please slow down."

"No! I can't believe you brought me to a creepy underground bunker. You had no right!"

My eyes widened as a blonde girl about my age stormed into my kitchen. She wore a gray, ratty T-shirt under a black leather jacket with an excessive amount of silver zippers. Her hair was long with wild curls. She had obviously been crying by the black smudges under her blue eyes.

"This is bullshit!" She shouted, throwing her hands in the air. She turned and caught my eyes.

"Uh, hi," I said awkwardly, spoon still between my lips.

"Do you have other girls trapped here?!" She asked, gesturing to me.

"I actually live here," I said, as I pulled the spoon out of my mouth.

"I'll get your bags from the car," Cas said, awkward as ever.

"I'm El," I said, offering my hand out to her.

She eyed me, checking me out. "Claire." She put her hand in mine. "You a stray, too?"

"Deans daughter."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Mhm." I looked her over. Claire. I'd heard that name before. Her words echoed in my head. "You're Jimmys daughter."

Claire's expression softened a bit, but her mouth was still stuck in a scowl. "I was."

"I'm sorry about your dad."

"Me too, but he's been gone for a long time."

"I can't even imagine losing my dad," I admitted.

"The goof in the flannel?"

I smiled a bit. "That's him. He's got a charm." I shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I won't,” Claire said, folding her arms across her chest. "I won't be here long enough to get used to anything."

"It's not a bad set up. Good Wi-Fi. Lots of lore. Great shower pressure." I offered a smile, taking another bite of ice cream. "Not exactly a place to bring dates, but most girls don't have three dads. That has nothing to do with the bunker."

Claire winced. "Three dads. Hell I'd give anything to have one."

"I know Cas isn't your dad, but he's a good guy. He tries."

"I don't want to talk about him."

"That's fair," I said, shoving the spoon back into the carton. 

I could see her eyeing my ice cream, and I noticed how sharp her collar bones were under the swoop neck on her T-shirt. "Want some?"

She looked taken aback, but she slowly nodded. "Yeah, okay."

I reached under my legs to open the drawer and pull out another spoon. She hopped up on the counter to sit next to me, and dug her spoon in. "I have a chocolate problem," I admitted. "Especially when I'm stressed. I think it fixes everything."

"What're you stressed about?" She asked, eyeing my plaid skirt.

"Finals." I smiled cheekily. "I know it sounds dumb..."

"Nah. It's a nice change from the roller coaster I'm on."

"Are you in school?"

"Got my GED." She tilted her head to the side, sucking on her spoon. "School wasn't my thing."

I resisted the urge to reach up and wipe the makeup off from under her eye. "So no college?"

"I'm in the college of life,” she said flatly.

"Hm."

"I'm surprised you're in school at all. If you grew up with hunters."

"Dad wanted a different life for me. He wanted me to have opportunities that he didn't have."

"Noble," Claire said taking another bite of the ice cream.

"Maybe," I said, closing my chemistry book. "But on the other hand, maybe it's not what I want."

Claire leaned closer to me. "And what do you want?"

"I'm still deciding." I looked down at my book, sitting it next to me. "But I haven't even had the opportunity to learn the hunt. He's worked so hard to keep it away from me. I love what they do. They save people, and I'm just in class reading a fucking book about theories."

Claire looked taken aback when I cursed and then she smiled a bit, mischievously. "You have some fight in you."

"I'm a Winchester." I smiled widely. "All we do is fight." I grabbed her hand. "I know you don't want to be here, but if you stay we will fight for you, too."

Dean

Present

Things were way too fucking quiet on the apocalypse front. Sammy said he had some things to take care of. He wouldn't tell me what. Things seemed fine between him and Ave, but I wondered if he needed some time away from us, to get his head on straight. So I let him go, even though it's against everything I believe in to watch my little brother walk away, I let him go.

I sipped my coffee in the kitchen and looked out the window at the sunrise. I never got up early, but I couldn't sleep. I never could anymore.

"Morning," Ava said, walking into the kitchen.

"Hey," I said, glancing at her.

"I have a present for you."

I turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

She walked to me, the island in between us. She pulled her hand up and and sat down her newspaper. "I think I have a case."

Her eyes were glistening. Fuck she was beautiful. "Really? A case? Sam just left."

"I thought you and I could work it together."

I walked closer to the island, just the counter between us. I reached across and touched her cheek. "I'd like that," I admitted. "Tell me about the case."

——————————————-

"Uh... can I help you?" A young man behind the counter asked.

We were in a book store that carried a large selection of comics. We suspected a haunting, even if it seemed like a long shot.

"Sure hope so. Agents DeYoung and Shaw. Just need to ask you a few questions," I said, flashing my badge. Ava did the same next to me.

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?" Ava asked.

"Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights," I said, glancing around.

The man scratched his head. "Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

"What about noises? Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?" I asked.

The cashier squinted. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

"What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?" Ava asked leaning into him.

A grin grew on the mans face. "I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

Larping? The fuck is that? "Excuse me?"

The cashier gestures to us. "You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Ava asked, crossing her arms.

I tugged on the tie around my neck, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. "What is 'LARPing'?"

The cashier rolled his eyes. "Like you don't know. Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too."

I frowned, my eyebrows coming together. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... Supernatural. Two guys, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?"

I swallowed hard and Ava and I exchanged a look.

"Sam and Dean?" She offered.

"That's it!"

My head was spinning. He didn't make any sense. How could he know any of this? "You're saying this is a book?"

"Books. It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." He moved from behind the counter and walked over to the bargain bin and began to dig around. Eventually he came across a book and handed it to me. "That's the first one, I think."

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund." I frowned at the classic romance novel cover. "Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."

Ava raised her eyebrows. We had suddenly forgotten about the case. "We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you've got."

Ava

We went back to the motel. Dean was getting obsessed with the books, and if I was being honest, my head was spinning too. I sat crisscrossed on the window seat typing away on my laptop. I was doing research on the books about their lives, about my life. Dean lounged on the bed, reading intently.

"This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?"

"I have no idea," I said, glancing at him.

"Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the vampires on the beach to us having sex. I'm full-frontal in here." Dean stood up, rubbing his face. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

I sighed and gestures to my screen. "They're not exactly popular, Dean. Kind of obscure. The publisher got put out about a dozen before they went bankrupt. The last one ends with you going to Hell. I'm in here too. It all is in here." I was suddenly happy that there wasn't another. I couldn't take him reading about Sam and I raising his child without him.

He took the laptop from me. "I reiterate. Freaking insane." His eyes widened. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Mhm."

"There are Sam girls and Dean girls and... what's a slash fan?"

"As in... Sam-slash-Dean. Together."

Dean looked up at me over the laptop. "Like, together together?"

"Yup."

He looked disgusted. "They do know we're brothers, right?"

"I don't think they care." I laughed. "They say a lot about me too, look," I said, taking back the computer. "Ava's character is flatly written. Dean deserves someone just as complexly written as he is." I rolled my eyes.

"We got to find this Carver Edlund."

"I don't know if we can, babe. No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

Dean groaned. This was really getting to him. "Somebody's gotta know who he is."

"Well, I have an idea, but it might be a little crazy."

He leaned into me, putting his hands on either side of my face. "You know me, Ava Winchester. I live for crazy."

After some research, I found the location of the publisher. She was obscure, but surprisingly active on social media. Not only did she publish the books, but she ran the official fan club. It wasn't hard to locate her house.

Dean and I stood in her kitchen. She poured us each a glass of iced tea. "So you published the Supernatural books?"

"Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books... You know, they never really got the attention they deserved."

I forced a smile. "Right. Well, we're hoping that our article can... shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press then maybe we could start publishing again." She pushed her glasses up her nose. She was bouncing in her shoes.

Dean raised his eyebrows, throwing his hands up. "No, no, no, no. God, no. I mean, why would you want to do that? You know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to Hell and all."

Nice recovery.

The publisher, but her hand on her chest in a swoon. "Oh, my god! That was one of my favorite ones, because Dean was so strong and sad and brave. Watching him give up everything for Ava. It was beautiful. I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. Gosh... if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings."

I snorted a bit, biting the inside on my cheek. I did my damndest to keep it together.

"Real men?" Dean asked flatly.

"I mean, no offense. How often do you cry like that, hmm?"

"Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

I elbowed him gently.

The publisher took off her glasses. "How do I know you two are legit, hmm?"

"Oh, trust me. We, uh... we're legit."

"Well, I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys."

"No! We would never," I jumped in. "We are big fans. Really."

"Hmm. You've read the books?"

"Cover to cover," Dean agreed.

The publisher crossed her arms in defiance. "What's the year and model of the car?"

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala."

"What's May 2nd?"

"Sams birthday," I said, wincing, knowing it was coming up.

"What is the gender of Ava and Deans baby?"

"A little girl," I said, itching to reach for his hand.

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie. Between Zep's Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues."

The publisher grinned. "Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" I asked, leaning forward

"Oh, no. I... No. Sorry, I can't do that."

"We just want to talk to him. You know, get the story in his own words," I said weakly.

"He's very private."

"It would mean so much to us. Like I said," I stepped to Dean, unbuttoning his shirt. He looked at me suspiciously, but allowed me to continue. I exposed his anti possession tattoo. "We are big fans."

The publisher looked weak seeing Deans skin. She fanned herself a bit. "Okay." She took out a pen and paper and started to write. "His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off."

Dean

Present

The front door swung open after a few brisk knocks. A man with an unkempt beard and shaggy hair squinted at us.

"You Chuck Shurley?" I asked.

"The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?"

The man eyed us. "Maybe. Why?"

"I'm Dean. This is Ava. The Dean and Ava you've been writing about."

The door shut in my face. I groaned and pounded on it again. It creaked open.

"Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life." Chuck tried to shut the door again, but I put my arm in the way, stopping it.

"See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books."

I pushed my way past him into the house, Ava following behind me.

"Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny."

"That's the understatement of the year." Ava laughed dryly. "We just want to know how you're doing it."

"I'm not doing anything."

I turned to him. "Are you a hunter?"

"What? No. I'm a writer."

I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms. "Then how do you know so much about demons?" I stepped closer to Chuck, causing him to fall backwards on the couch.

"What do you want?" He stumbled over his words.

"I'm Ava, and this is Dean. Sam isn't here, but he's real too."

Chuck shook his head. "Ava, Sam, and Dean are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

"The fuck we aren't," I said, grabbing him by his ratty T-shirt. "Get up."

We walked him to the Impala, and I popped the trunk, showing him our full Arsenal.

"Are those real guns?"

"Yup. This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs," I explained.

"Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans. That's, that's awesome. So, I...I think I've got some posters in the house."

"Chuck, stop," I said putting my hand up.

"Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me," Chuck said cowering in front of me.

Ava laughed a bit and walked toward him. "How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

Chuck looked at her in shock. "Wait a minute. How do you know about that?"

"No. The question is how do you."

"Because I wrote it?"

"Waits" Ava began. "You kept writing?"

"Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

I sighed and punched the bridge of my nose. "Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my wife, Ava."

"The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down."

"Now you're getting it," Ava said with a forced smile.

Chuck looked weak, so we each took a side of him and took him back inside.

He sat in the sitting room, and poured himself a whiskey. "Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god."

Ava laughed and shook her head. "Yeah, you are not a god."

"How else do you explain it? I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through. The physical beatings alone."

I shrugged. "Yeah, we're still in one piece."

"I killed Ava in front of you. I killed your mother... both of your mothers. All for what? For entertainment?"

"You didn't create us, Chuck," I said gently. "You're not god."

"We think you're probably just psychic," Ava added.

"No. If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."

Ava sat next to him. "It seems that somehow, you're just... focused on our lives. On Sam and Deans."

"Yeah, like laser-focused. Are you working on anything right now?" I asked.

Chuck gasped, suddenly rising. "Holy crap."

"What?" Ava asked, watching him rifle through papers on his desk.

"The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird. I uh, I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house... confronted by my characters."

Ava and I exchanged a look again. What the fuck is going on?

Ava took the papers from him.

"So... You wrote another chapter?" I asked.

"Dean," Ava said, scanning the pages with her eyes.

"What?"

"If this is real... it's... fuck it's bad."

"What is?" I asked, my eyebrows coming together.

"It's Lilith." Chuck said, meeting my eyes. "She's coming for Sam."

—————

Chapter Twenty-Six, The Winchester Way

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[batneko]

Chosen Star, part 2.1

wake up! it’s a new day.

words: 2026

[previous]

The caravan was haunted.

Teru learned this on the first night, sleeping in one of the fold-out bunks (there were only two, which raised some questions about how this little journey was going to work). He was drawn from an unusually restful dream by the faint sounds of voices, a chuckle, and then a deep voice which rumbled, “Hands off.”

But what fully woke him up were the human screams that followed.

He sat bolt upright, panicking for a second when he couldn't see, before the toupee slipped off his head and into his lap. For a long moment Teru could do nothing but stare into the dim shadows of the caravan, listening to his heart pound, waiting for whatever-it-was to show itself so he'd have an idea of what to do.

But nothing happened. Outside the caravan he heard two male voices exchange a few words. In the other bunk he heard Kageyama grunt and roll over. After that, silence.

It was the middle of the night, and Teru was drained from the emotional roller coaster of the previous day. He lay back down, waiting for sleep or death, whichever came first. The light beyond his eyelids brightened, briefly, and out of habit he opened them to curse the dawn.

Instead, he saw a blob of green light float through the door and settle on the tiny writing desk crammed against the wall. The light faded almost immediately, but Teru couldn't convince himself he'd been dreaming it. His eyes were too sore for that.

He'd just seen a ghost.

He woke early. He had been for the last couple years, since his magic could keep bugs and the cold away but not block out the light of the rising sun. Teru hadn't needed a spell to sleep last night. The first time in two years. Though, given what happened, maybe he should have taken the precaution after all.

He jammed the toupee on his head and opened the door – going back for his blanket when he felt the chill – and headed outside to find some answers. Reigen, dressed now in an old sweater and ratty trousers that were probably his pajamas, was sitting next to the campfire and rolling a cigarette on his knee. The kettle over the fire was a smaller one than yesterday, and smelled like coffee, and Teru poured himself a cup without asking.

“Your caravan is haunted,” Teru said once he'd taken a sip.

“Yep,” Reigen replied, mildly. He leaned over to light his cigarette from the embers.

“You knew?”

“How could I not know? I live in the thing.”

“Don't you think it's a problem?”

Reigen shrugged, and took a drag. “He pays rent.”

“He what?”

“Pays rent,” a voice said next to Teru's ear.

Teru wanted to believe he didn't yelp. Perhaps a choked gasp, no more. But if there was ever a circumstance where it was acceptable to yelp, it was a ghost suddenly floating over your shoulder.

“Which I don't think is fair,” the ghost said. “Since it was mine first.”

“The hell it was!” Reigen exclaimed. “I paid for it!”

“And it wouldn't have been so cheap if it wasn't for me, huh?”

“It was only cheap because someone died in it.”

The ghost was small, barely more than hand-sized, shaped like a constantly-shifting wisp of green smoke with a squashed approximation of a human face. It manifested tiny green arms and jabbed a finger at Reigen's face.

“And that death allowed me to move in! Finder's keepers!”

“You weren't the one who died in it?” Teru found himself asking.

The ghost looked back at him. Beady eyes trailed up and down, and Teru hugged the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“No,” he said. “Not that it's any of your business.”

“The previous owner died peacefully, of old age,” Reigen said. “She came from a family of travelers. But they didn't need the spare caravan so they left it for sale in the next town, which is where I was lucky enough to find it.”

It was exactly what Teru wanted to hear, which meant it probably wasn't true.

“This is Dimple,” Reigen introduced the ghost. “He's... well... He helps out so we haven't had a good enough reason to get rid of him.”

“Oy!” the ghost protested.

“I- I heard screaming,” Teru said. “Last night.”

Reigen nodded. “Some people tried to mess around with the merchandise, and Dimple scared them off. That's what I meant by 'rent.' He watches our backs.”

“In more ways than one,” the ghost muttered. He was still staring at Teru. “Picked up another kid, did you?”

“I guess? Do you want to stick with us, Hanazawa? You don't have to decide until we're ready to leave.”

“I... I don't know.” Teru sipped his coffee. It was bitter but it was warm.

“You have a problem, Reigen,” the ghost said dryly.

“It's not my fault, dammit! It's not like I'm trying to collect teen wizards. Anyway I don't even know if he's coming with us yet!”

They bickered like an old married couple, or at least the way Teru had always heard old married couples described. He drank his coffee and tried to pretend he wasn't analyzing every word of their argument for signs that one or both of them were lying.

At some point Kageyama woke up, and when he left the caravan he had a cooking pot and a bag of oats. Teru watched him serve some to the shaggy pony loosely tied to a nearby tree, and then bring the bag back to the firepit.

“We're eating the same thing as the horse?” Teru asked. He didn't mean to make it sound disdainful, but he could hear himself drawing out the last word.

“No,” Kageyama said, though he was scooping it into the pot. “Oats are a treat, mostly she eats hay and grass.”

Reigen, Teru noticed, had stubbed out his cigarette as soon as Kageyama approached. Reigen poured himself the last of the coffee and started trying to take a sip. Trying, and giving up each time as soon as it touched his lips.

“What's her name?” Teru asked, because it seemed like the thing to do.

“Miyako,” Kageyama said. The ghost bobbed behind his shoulder, chuckling.

“Use her title, Shige, show some respect.”

Kageyama's lips thinned, almost imperceptibly. “Princess Miyako.”

“He was eleven when he named her,” Dimple said, grinning.

“She looks like a princess,” Teru said, for politeness' sake.

Reigen gave up on coffee and hopped up. “I'll go get dressed and start tying things down. Then we'll have breakfast and go shopping and...” He flashed Teru a grin. “Well, we'll see.”

It wasn't like Teru had all that much of a choice. He couldn't go back to living the way he had been before, not now that he realized how wrong it was to take advantage of people for money. Not now that a full twelve hours in the company of others had reminded him of how lonely it was. But a night of sleep and the presence of a ghost made him wonder just what he was getting himself into.

“Kageyama,” Teru asked, trying to sound conversational. “How did you... come to travel with Master Reigen?”

Kageyama blinked at him in surprise. “You want to know?”

“Yes.” Was it so hard to believe Teru could have an interest in others? “Of course.” Then again, he was only asking for his own self-interest.

Kageyama stirred the oatmeal. Beneath his thick bangs, Teru thought he saw his brow wrinkle. “I needed help. I was... afraid, I guess. Of myself. You saw me, I...” His voice cracked. “I can't stop it. I can't control myself.”

“That was normal for you?” Teru asked, sweat beginning to prick at his brow.

“No!” Kageyama said quickly. “But... it happens. Sometimes. And when I was younger it happened more. Not- not losing all control, but every time I got upset my powers would do things. I guess I was lucky; our town is in the middle of nowhere and the emperor's soldiers never came through. My parents didn't even know the emperor wanted all wizards to come to the capital.”

“They didn't know?” Teru repeated. “How could they not know? Everyone knows.”

“I guess, but-”

“Hey, kid,” the ghost reappeared, just when Teru had forgotten about him. “Your parents told you it was your destiny to overthrow this guy, right? So it's not like you've got a good idea of what's common knowledge and what isn't.”

“Um.” Teru's face felt hot. He might be blushing. Him, blushing! “You're right.”

The ghost floated back to the campfire. He seemed to like hovering in the flames, making it look otherworldly.

“I didn't know, anyway,” Kageyama continued with his story. “My parents thought I'd learn to control my powers eventually. But I was afraid, and so when Master Reigen came to town I thought I would ask him about it.”

Teru had to physically stop himself from saying what he was sure Kageyama already knew.

“I know witch magic and wizard magic are different,” he said, and Teru let out a breath. “But he was still the first fellow mage I'd ever met. I didn't think anyone else would understand, so I'd kept it all to myself...”

Behind him, Teru heard the door to the caravan creak open.

“Master Reigen told me that I wasn't weird. Everyone's different, everyone's good at different things. Having magic is just like that. He taught me not to be afraid of myself.”

Teru fixed his eyes on the dregs of the coffee in his mug. “That's what you told me, before. That we're both just... ordinary.”

“Everyone's ordinary, because everyone's different.”

He nodded. It still made his stomach clench to hear it. Equality was nice on paper, but if Teru wasn't special... if Teru wasn't a hero...

“All that matters is what you do with your life,” Kageyama said, confidently. Bold words for someone who had never been told he had to do anything with his life. “All that matters is being a good person.”

“I don't think I am,” Teru said, quietly.

Kageyama said nothing. At least, not until the ghost hissed something at him that Teru couldn't make out, at which point he jolted and said, “Um. I don't know you that well. But you can be. Anybody can, I think.”

Teru sighed. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I guess not. Master's better at this than I am. But it's important, I think.”

“You think,” Teru muttered.

“That we're not special, I mean. That you don't have a destiny, because no one does.”

“You know what I think?” Teru began. He already knew he was going to do this wrong. He was going to tell Kageyama exactly how he felt about him at this moment, and hurt his feelings, and ruin his opportunity to have regular food and shelter, and turn the ghost against him. But he couldn't stop. The words rose in his throat like bile, and he opened his mouth-

“I think breakfast is done!” Reigen said. Loud, bombastic. He smacked the back of Teru's head as he passed, and said, “Oops!” with exaggerated cheeriness.

He'd dressed down today. No more gold embroidery or brightly-dyed vests. He sat down next to Kageyama and started spooning oat mush into bowls. There was a little honey pot Teru hadn't noticed warming near the fire, and Kageyama offered it to Teru along with his breakfast.

“Where's the salt?” Reigen said.

“You put salt on your oatmeal?” Teru asked, horrified.

“What? It's good!”

“It doesn't sound like it!”

“You won't know unless you try it, will you?”

He snatched the honey pot out of Kageyama's hand. “I'll stick with food I can trust, thank you.”

Reigen shrugged. “Your loss.”

[next]

[rpmemes-galore]

Gotham --- Season 1  {Sentence Starters}

“I'm learning to conquer fear.“

“Hit me, and I'll let you kiss me.“

“You think I'm crazy. That's fine.“

“Relax. I'm supposed to take you in alive.“

“He doesn't know it, but he's a dead man.“

“You make a life of crime sound very noble.“

“I should put a bullet in your head right now.”

“I do like that you think of me as a loved one.“

“No, I'm game. Like I said, I'm doomed, anyhow.“

“Get your things. I'm taking you someplace safe.“

“'Cause if you don't want to do this, there's no shame in it.“

“There's nothing more dangerous than an honest man, huh?“

“You're like a human roller coaster, except you only go down.“

“You're still a douchebag. But, you have the moral high ground.”

“When you know what a man loves, you know what can kill him.“

“You're a true beauty. Something you can use to your advantage.“

“I'm just like the phoenix. I'll just rise again, and again, and again.“

“You disappear in the middle of a case, you can't even tell me why?“

“You seem like a nice guy, but this is not a city or a job for nice guys.“

“But, I learned my lessons. I'll be back, stronger and smarter than ever.”

“You know, if it were up to me, this would be over quick, without all the fuss.“

“You have a little danger in your eye. I wonder what you plan to do with that.“

“He got what he deserved. I'm gonna go get a danish. That's what I deserve.”

“You're just a little sinner like the rest of us. I'm almost kind of sad about that.“

“You understand why I might be skeptical, considering it's you telling me this.“

“I love this city, and I see it going to hell. But, I won't let it fall apart without a fight.“

“There are plenty of things in this world that can't be explained by rational science.“

“Fear doesn't need conquering. Fear tells you where the edge is. Fear is a good thing.“

“Remove the dirt, that old hood, those ratty clothes… I bet we find a princess underneath.“

“You tell yourself, ‘I'll just do this one bad thing. All the good things I'll do later will make up for it’. But, they don't.”

“Shall I get a broom then? Or would you rather continue crying over the shattered fragments of your young dreams?“

[velociraptor]

remembered when i was a little girl with long ratty hair down to my waist who wore plaid skorts and sparkly tshirts and hand me down jeans who was shy and fiery all at once who hated holdng earth worms and liked going fossil hunting with my dad and always had dirt under my nails and i think im going to spend my whole life trying to get that feeling back i think that's what makes me so sad trying to get back to the feeling of riding my bike barefoot and going up and down every drive way on the street pretending it was a roller coaster ride until my mom yelled at me to come inside bc it was too dark and she was afraid i was gonna get hit by a car but i was too little to understand and always got mad and would lie in the cool grass in the summer evening heat till i could see stars anyways i miss that so fucking much and im never gonna have it back ever and i hate coming to terms with that idk how to be happy in the life i have now

[writingstyle101]

You’re the One Dylan x Reader Chapter 11: The Best Thing

chapter 10

I walked into the doorway of my apartment completely drained. After my talk with Dylan, I caught the next flight out back to Florida and left California broke and broken. 

“Jesus Y/N you didn’t answer any of my calls. I've been worried sick.” Jamie shot up from the couch meeting me at the door. 

I turned and looked at her shaking my head. Her shoulders slacked “Oh.” She breathed. 

“I'm gonna go to bed.” I swallowed. 

“Y/N you need to talk about this.” She frowned. 

“I will I promise” I shook my head. “But I'm exhausted and I just need to go to bed.” She nodded her head as I made my way past her to my bedroom and climbed into bed. And for the first time since I walked away from Dylan out in California, I cried. 

I let everything out and sobbed as I thought of Brody, and Dylan and how bad I messed everything up. And now I don’t only have one marking to remind me, but I have two because I just had to get a stupid tattoo that would end up being my imprint on someone I can't have. I cried so hard that it was a struggle to catch my breath, feeling my bed dip as Jamie crawled in and laid down with me, pulling me into a hug. And for hours I just cried. 

That’s how its been for the last four days. I only got out of bed to use the restroom. Jamie hasn’t left my side and has begged me to eat but I just can't. I haven’t turned on the tv or even turned my phone on because I was too scared to see him. I just laid, slept, and cried. 

“I don’t think so.” I heard Jamie in the living room. Jamie has been talking to someone on the phone every hour but shes never left the house and never said anything about the conversation when she’d come back into the room so I never asked. 

“I understand but it's not a good idea.” I furrowed my brows as I listened closer. I could hear the murmuring of another voice. I sighed standing up and wrapping my blanket around me before walking out into the living room. 

“Jamie whos-“ I froze when I walked into the room, standing only twenty feet away from Dylan. “What are you doing here?” I whispered. I stared at Dylan taking his appearance in. He looked rough. His face was covered in stubble when it's normally clean and shaved. His hair ratty and wild like he hasn’t brushed it in days. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale. 

“We need to talk.” He nodded to me, his face was stone. 

I nodded and walked towards the door, handing Jamie my blanket and giving her a soft smile as we stepped outside. 

“What do you-“

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” Dylan cut me off, taking me off guard at his bluntness. 

“Excuse me?” I scrunched my forehead. 

“You walk into my life, lead me on for months and break my heart. Then decide to fly out to where I live and fuck with me before the biggest fucking premier of my career.” He raised his voice staring at me like I was a nuisance. 

“You came all the way here to tell me that?” I scoffed shaking my head. 

“I'm not done.” His tone was cold and bitter. “You do all of this to me. You make me fall in love with you when you're engaged.” He looked disgusted with every word that came out of his lips. “and now I'm stuck because I don’t know what to do because I’m in love you.” He shook his head.

“Then stop! Stop loving me if its such an inconvenience for you.” I shook my head.

“You think its that easy?” he looked at me like I was crazy. “If I could stop loving you I would! But I fucking cant! Forget about Bryan, forget about Britt, and the lies, and these stupid fucking marks!” he yelled throwing his hands in the air “Forget all of it because I can't forget you.” His voice got softer, his expression looked almost pained to be saying the words. “I wish I didn’t love you, but I do. And I need to know if you love me too, only me.” he emphasized the last two words like they were the only ones that mattered. 

I looked up at him, trying my best to hold everything in. “I can't be your soulmate Dylan. I know your soulmate isn’t someone so fucked up like me.” I shook my head.

“I’m not asking if you’re my soulmate y/n” he lifted my head to force me to look at him “I’m asking if you love me too.”.

I shut my eyes wishing all of this would just disappear. Too much damage has been done and I know I should walk away, but the idea of walking away from Dylan broke my heart even more. I started to cry, biting my lip to keep from sobbing completely. “Y/N.” Dylan’s voice cracked. “Give me a reason not to walk away right now. Please.” 

I looked up at his bloodshot, swollen eyes and breathed. “I wish I didn’t love you. Because you deserve someone so much better than me.” I shrugged, looking away as the tears kept falling. “But I do. I love you.” I sobbed looking at him. 

Dylan let out a breath of air, shaking his head, letting out a low chuckle. “Promise me you're done with him.” He looked at me completely vulnerable. 

“I am. But are you done with her?” I was scared to hear his answer, scared to fall back into bed and sob like I have for the past four days.

“y/n I have been done with her for over a year.” He shook his head “I was there because my house was being worked on because of a gas leak. I was never back with her.”

I sighed, relieved that he really wasn’t getting back together with Britt. “I swear.” I moved closer to him and cupped his face lightly. “Brody and I are done. It's over Dylan.” I whispered up at him. I watched as his facial features got much softer and less guarded as I spoke. “It's just you.” I whispered. 

Dylan stared at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. I watched as a small smile broke out on his lips. “I have never met someone who made me feel like I was on a roller coaster the way you do.” He laughed lightly, staring at me in disbelief. 

“Is that a good thing?” I whispered as he inched closer.

“The best.” He whispered back before leaning down and for the very first time, Dylan kissed me.