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holykillercake · 3 years

Text

Barrels, Bets and Balls

pairing: Zoro x Drunk!Reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: The Straw hats are presented with millenary rum from an Ancient Giant Tribe and, well, no one is giving you that anymore.

higlight: ¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨

warning: Don´t read and drive.

notes: HOLD MY BEER! Hi, guys! This was a lovely request from @roronoatrash for a drunk s/o! I have to say this is my first time writing a drunk character so I´m a bit nervous hahaha I really really hope you like it! Have fun and drink responsibly! <3 @vemuabhi

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Agh!¨ you mumbled when you tried to lift your head from the pillow. It felt like the Thousand Sunny had run over you a thousand times.

¨Hm?¨

¨Regret ... mhbeh ... thing...¨ your mouth was so dry that talking became almost impossible.

¨What´s that?¨ Zoro asked, definitely amused by your deplorable state.

¨Hmmm... I don´t... regret... anything.¨

¨Of course you don´t. You don´t remember anything.¨ he shifted on the bed, making it look like a black hole was opening in the mattress. ¨Here, take this.¨ He handed you something.

¨I don´t need your pity... ma-marimo.¨

¨This is not pity, Y/N. This is a painkiller. Come on, you´re gonna feel better.¨

When he helped you to sit on the bed, you noticed something stuck to the window, preventing the sun from entering and blinding you. The greenette removed a few locks of hair that laid plastered across your face before helping you with the herculean task of taking the pill.

¨If the stupid cook is not dead he must have made coffee.¨ he stood up, grabbing your slippers and placing them in front of you.

In the meantime, your mind tried to gather whatever useful information you had to understand what had happened, but everything was a void blank.

¨You ok?¨ he asked, hand on the doorknob. ¨Do you want me to bring it to you?¨

¨No, it´s ok...¨ you pinched the bridge of your nose, making one last effort to remember at least a crumb of the previous hours. You were fast to give up, though. ¨What happened?¨

¨Uhhh, you got drunk and passed out.¨ he said like it was no big deal.

¨Hmm, ok...¨ you took a few seconds to digest his words ¨but when you say ´you´ you mean ´you me´ or ´you guys´?¨

A chuckle left his mouth ¨Come and you´ll see.¨

The sun shone high in the sky, forcing you to wince back into your room like the time you had your shadow stolen. You stumbled and lowered yourself to the floor, crawling away from the light.

¨You go!¨ you said dramatically, covering your eyes ¨Run away and leave me! Tell everyone... that I fought until the last moment!¨

Zoro scoffed at your poorly performed scene, walking closer to you and squatting, back turned to you. ¨Hop, soldier. We don´t leave nakamas behind, right?¨

Your cheeks reddened with his gesture, and you hid your hungover smitten smile on the crook of his neck. ¨Hold tight, Y//N.¨

Oh, I will. Ouch, my head!

As soon as you reached the main deck, your eyes widened, ignoring the bright sun, and your mouth fell in a perfect O.

¨Oh my freaking... what happened here?¨

If it weren't for the countless barrels, you would have easily thought that you had been chewed up by a sea king.

The Straw Hats were scattered across the deck, mixed with garbage, blankets, and rolls of toilet paper. Their unorthodox positions would definitely grant them a stiff neck.

Zoro carried you to the kitchen where you found Usopp and Chopper talking at the kitchen table.

¨... like I fasted in a desert for forty nights, and then I survived... a buster call. And like... all of the battleships were pointed at me. And I was catching fire before that.¨ you heard Usopp whine to the doctor, who wrapped some bandages on him.

¨Oi, who made coffee?¨ Zoro asked purposely loud.

¨SHHHH!¨ you and the sniper hissed at him.

¨Sanji did.¨ Chopper answered ¨Oh, Y/N, how are you feeling?¨

¨Like my heart is beating in my head.¨

¨At least there´s a heartbeat.¨ the swordsman replied, putting you close to a chair so you could take a seat. ¨Hm, Chopper, I saw the cook dead outside.¨

¨Yeah, he made coffee and then passed out again.¨ Chopper discreetly pointed at Usopp´s bandages.

¨He passed out and spilled hot coffee on me!¨ he roared, stopping midway to whine.

¨But you two look pretty good, though.¨ You referred to Chopper and Zoro.

Not Usopp, definitely not Usopp.

¨Night watch. I didn´t drink last night.¨ the doctor sighed, relieved.

¨And I can handle my alcohol.¨ the greenette bragged, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of you.

¨What happened anyway?¨

¨Oh! You don´t remember too, Y/N? That millenary rum was really strong!¨ Chopper asked, fascinated by the effects of the beverage.

¨Millenary rum?¨

¨Yeah! It was a gift from an Ancient Giant Tribe!¨

¨Giant tribe?¨ you kept repeating every word he said, double-checking to see if you were not hearing things.

¨Y/N, what´s the last thing you remember?¨

¨Hmm, let me see...¨ you rested your elbows on the table, hands covering your eyes. Wow, even thinking hurts.

<~>

¨I swear to God, Tony! When Luffy falls into the water, you can not jump after him!¨ you yelled, panting from climbing back to the ship and soaking wet of salty water.

He pouted and whined. You only called him ¨Tony¨ when you were upset with him.

¨So-Sorry Y/N... AaaAgh...¨ his voice trembled, and you couldn´t help but soften a little.

¨Ugh, forget it.¨ you laid down on the grass and sighed, the reindeer on your belly ¨Are you alright, Chopper?¨

¨Y-Yeah...¨

Zoro emerged a few seconds later, carrying Luffy on his shoulder.

You had engaged in a fight against some bandits who were causing trouble on an island called Gran Brabados. From what you could understand, they were descendants of the Ancient Giant Tribe who emancipated from Elbaf after years of conflict.

¨I don´t wanna be rude, but¨ Usopp spoke to one of them ¨I thought giants were warriors. Like Broggy and Dory. Those guys fought for over 100 years!¨

¨Well, most of us are, but some are not. That's why we left Elbaf.¨ the giant said ¨We're not interested in war, we're interested in rum!¨

All of you stopped for a second, wondering if you heard the same thing.

¨Eh?¨ you spoke.

¨We don´t make war! We make rum!¨ he threw his huge hands in the air, chest puffing out of pride.

¨Oi, really? Give us some!¨ Zoro immediately threw Luffy on the floor and ran towards the giant. Next thing you knew, the giant burst into laughter.

¨Gabababa!¨ he hunched as he laughed ¨Sorry, but tiny people like you can't handle it! Gababababa!¨

You were not sure what offended you the most, he calling you all, who just saved their asses, weak or having to dodge the huge drops of saliva that came out of his mouth.

After insisting a lot, he ended up giving in, presenting the straw hats with barrels and barrels of millenary rum. Yeah, millenary. Rum distilled for one thousand years, or at least that is what he said.

The celebration didn´t take long to begin. Because Luffy had decided to set sail that same day, you would all be bathed with a pleasant sunset as you partied.

¨Wow!¨ you shouted after chugging the first tankard. ¨Oooohh, this is good booze!¨ you shook your head, already feeling the kick.

¨Girl, you should go easy on this. It´s super strong.¨ Franky said, making you scoff at him, possessed by some waspish Viking demon.

¨And here I thought you were hard-boiled.¨

¨What?¨

¨O-Oi, Y/N...¨ Usopp said, worried, sipping his drink.

¨Haven´t you learned anything with Tom-san?¨ you clicked your tongue ¨Meh, I guess I´ll be the one making things with a DON around here!¨ you chugged more of the rum.

The shipwright glared at you with a red beam coming out of his left eye. You remember questioning yourself for a second. Maybe you had said too much, but it was just for a brief second before you insulted someone else.

Back at the kitchen table, flashes of the events from the last night began to pop in your mind. Guilt and embarrassment gushed over you, making you twist and cringe.

¨And then you said ¨maybe I should wear your underwear.¨ Chopper shivered as he quoted your words.

¨Nooo...¨ you cried out.

¨It gets worse, Y/N.¨

¨What?! How?!¨

¨Because after that,¨ Zoro started to speak, and you saw him struggle to stop a smile from cracking. That was not a good sign. ¨you said "your balls are so small Robin could have grabbed them with one hand!¨

The men laughed and slapped the table as you looked for a place to bury your head or a knife to stab yourself in the heart.

¨WHY DIDN´T YOU STOP ME?¨ you yelled, pulling your boyfriend by the collar and shaking him.

He placed a hand on your forehead, a silly thing he did every time you got too nervous. ¨Oi, you´re a big girl. You know what you´re doing.¨

¨Noo, obviously I don´t!¨ He smiled.

He would not be the one to tell you, but he did have to stop Franky from Radical Beam-ing the hell out of you several times. For some reason, you were very keen on insulting the cyborg's masculinity.

Another thing he wouldn´t tell you was that he didn´t touch the rum in the last night. He decided to remain sober and look after you, making sure you would not kill someone or get yourself killed.

However, despite all the trouble you gave him, he recognized your strength. Straw hat after straw hat, you managed to defeat everyone in a stupid drinking contest.

The biggest achievement was to drag Luffy into the game since he dislikes the taste of alcohol. When he denied being part of it, you teased him by saying,¨I think you are just scared, Luffy. You know what, maybe I should be the Captain of this ship! Maybe, I will be the Pirate King!¨

That was about the sixth punch Zoro took for you. Or because of you.

The darker the night fell, the wilder you all got. And then insults began to come from every direction to every direction. You were arguing, then laughing, then crying and apologizing. If it wasn´t for Zoro, Chopper would have had a heart attack.

¨Nami, you thief! Give me back my queen, or I´ll be forced to shoot a Bidori Moshi at you!¨ Usopp yelled, holding a bunch of cards in his hands.

¨Oi, Usopp! How dare you speak with a lady like that?! I´ll kick you in the face!¨

¨Bring it on, Sanji! I eat eggplants like you for breakfast every day! AND IT´S GOD USOPP FOR YOU!¨

¨Zoro...¨ Chopper cried, falling close to where the swordsman was sitting. ¨W-What are we going to do?¨

¨Uh? Ah, sit back and relax. You know these guys, they are ju-¨

¨Y/N-san, may I see your panties?¨

¨Well, too bad for you I´m not weari-¨

¨OI! Y/N!¨ Zoro dashed over, throwing you on his shoulder.

That was about the first punch Brook took for you. Or, again, because of you.

And then, as the number of biological hazards began to decline, managing the situation became easier and easier. Chopper took care of the fallen drunken, and Zoro threw blankets over them.

In the end, it was you and Luffy. You were still arguing about the things you said earlier. Both of you were exhausted but didn´t want to give in. The argument only ended when you withdrew your words, saying that he would be the one to become King of the Pirates.

Luffy fell dead asleep immediately, and Zoro took the cue to approach you. ¨Hey, Y/N. Our time, let´s go?¨

You turned to him and nodded, red cheeks and tired eyes. He had to scoop you up and carry you back to your room since your legs were not part of the equation anymore, and you would let go and fall every time he tried to carry you on his back.

¨Heeey, you´re not drunk!¨ you whined, almost falling asleep. ¨Why aren´t you drunk?¨

¨Cause you drank everything.¨

¨Noo, I can find s´more.¨ you uncovered yourself, trying to get out of bed.

¨I bet you can.¨ he said, covering you again and pulling you closer.

The warmth of his body, altogether with his hand gently rubbing your back, made your system shut down.

¨You know... I can kick your ass... in a drinking contest...¨

¨Yeah,¨ he chuckled ¨I bet you can.¨

That was definitely not true, but for you, well, for you he could pretend it was.

#one piece #oneshot #worst generation #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #franky #usopp #chopper #luffy #nami #brook #thousand sunny #elbaf #rum #pirate king #opfanfic

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jadethest0ne · 3 years

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In need of Refueling, Chapter 11 - Help

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2173

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: Time for Red Son and Sandy to have a talk

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

He must have passed out at some point because Red Son wakes up, finding himself still on the floor, leaning up against the bed. Pillows and blankets have been stuffed around him and a heater has been placed in the small space. The shivers he was experiencing earlier have quieted down to a low rumble beneath his skin, and he feels much more cozy.

There is a tray in front of him as well, with some more tea and a couple of bean buns on it. From the steam coming from the tea, he can tell it is still warm. The steam reminds him of his sudden lack of powers, and he sinks his nose down into the blankets, hitching his shoulders up to his ears in remembered embarrassment and shame. Not only is he injured, but without his powers he is utterly defenseless.

A gurgle from his stomach alerts him to how empty it is, and he eyes the tray once more. He weighs having to leave his little cocoon of warmth to eat, but ultimately decides that having something warm to eat and drink will satisfy both his hunger and his need for heat. The thought that they might be poisoned did cross his mind, but he logics that if the Blue One was going to kill him, he wouldn’t have bothered healing him first. No, there had to be another reason he was going through all this trouble.

Red Son worms his arm out from the blankets and reaches down to the tray, picking up a bun and sinking his teeth into the plump bread. It has the perfect texture - soft and pliant, but firm enough that there isn’t a hint of sogginess where it touches the sweet beans inside. The bean paste has a nice creamy texture to it, with grains of surgery goodness. A contented mumble purrs out of his mouth as he chews on the sweet treat. He gets through half a bun before his dry throat reminds him to slow down and drink something. He takes a sip of the tea, which has a pleasant bitterness to it, with a mixture of ginger and flowery fragrance balancing it out. The tea and the buns compliment each other nicely. Red Son couldn’t remember eating or drinking something with so much apparent care and flavor put into it in a long time. If the big guy’s snacks taste this good, he wonders vaguely what any meals he makes taste like. Not like Red Son intends to stick around very long to find out though. A part of him that he doesn’t want to listen to quite yet, wonders where he’d even go.

Instead, he turns his thoughts to his present circumstances. Where is that big guy anyway? There are still a few cats in the room, but true to the man’s warnings they stay away, eyeing Red Son cautiously. Chewing through the first bean bun, he picks up the second one and notices another two items on the tray - a bell and a note. The note says ‘Red Son: I hope you enjoy the tea and bean buns. Please ring the bell if you need assistance.’

Red Son rolls his eyes at this. Like he wants anything to do with an enemy. Then again, he did seem to care for his injuries and give him some (extremely tasty) tea and snacks. But why? Red Son still can’t figure that out. He huffs out an anxious breath and puts down the last half of the second bean bun, stomach now having been filled despite the small amount of food. He slowly nurses the rest of his tea as he contemplates the situation. Where would he go? What happened to his parents? Would they even want a now powerless demon like him around?

After staring out at space for a bit, getting distracted at nothing but the same questions rolling around in his brain, he notices that his tea has gotten a bit cold. His body is also really achy from sleeping on the floor the whole time. He tentatively stretches out his sore limbs as best he can despite the bandages. He contemplates the distance from the floor to the bed, and decides that he can totally get up there by himself. He struggles onto his knees, careful of his sore ankle, and puts a hand on the bed.

A meow distracts his progress. He looks down to see that blue cat with the tuft of fur that matches the big guy’s mohawk. It’s pawing at his leg and giving him a meaningful look.

“What’s wrong with you? Go away! I’m trying to do something!” Red Son swats at the cat.

The cat responds with more meowing.

“Pft, dumb loud cats,” Red Son grumbles as he tries to ignore the yowling, and shifts his body upwards. He wobbles on one leg, but keeps steady with his hand on the bed. Unfortunately, the bedding is too fluffy to give him sturdy enough leverage to help him up to it. He lurches forward trying to use the momentum to get him up, but instead finds himself doubled over in pain, as his ribs protest the movement. His leg gives a final wobble, and he slips back to the floor with a grunt. He muffles a yell of pain and frustration in the soft mattress.

“Are you all right?”

The loud, but somehow still soft voice causes Red Son to flinch back. He swallows another grunt of pain, in the form of a growl he throws at the Blue One who had appeared in the room. “Of course I’m not all right! I-- I…” He looks to the side unhappily. “I can’t get into the bed.”

“You could have asked for help,” the man says matter-of-factly. “I left a bell.” He smiles genuinely and points to the bell still on the tray.

“I don’t need your help.” Red Son grumbles.

The blue man blinks, then squats down to Red Son’s level, and tilts his eyebrows upward, as if trying his best to appear as small and non-threatening as can be. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know?”

With an eye-roll, Red Son huffs, “Well, I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Technically, you did,” the man points up a finger.

“Listen,” Red Son says ignoring that obvious falsehood. “I’ve been completely fine on my own before. I’ve never had to ask for help! I don’t know what you’re doing here by bandaging me up and stuff, but I’m not playing your game! I don’t need your help! I can do this myself if I just try a bit more!”

“I’m sure you can!”

Red Son gives him a rueful look at his placating tone.

The man’s eyes soften. “But you don’t have to.”

Red Son’s instinct would be to argue further, but there’s something just so darn honest about the man’s tone and a gentleness in his eyes. He mulled over the man’s words. He hadn’t thought of it that way.

The man speaks up again, his gentle demeanor not changing in the slightest. “Would you like to get in the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get in the bed by yourself?”

“...Not… easily,” Red Son decides.

“Would it be easier and less painful if I helped you?”

“Yes.”

“Would it be okay if I helped you get in the bed?” The man holds out an offering hand, palm up.

Red Son looks between it and the man. He nods slowly.

“Okay!” The Blue One beams like Red Son just made his day.

Red Son grimaces and squints as if he is looking directly at the sun.

It ends up being much easier getting into bed with the man’s help. Red Son gets the feeling that the Blue One could’ve just picked him up and put him in bed. But he took care to allow Red Son to go through the motions of pulling himself up and shifting into a sitting position on the bed, as if he had done it on his own, and not that his entire weight was being supported by the Blue One. Red Son decides to not dwell on that fact, and tries to hold onto the last dregs of dignity he had left. Once in bed, the man moved the pillows and blankets back in place once again creating a warm cocoon for the demon to be nestled in. He also moved the heater closer to the bed, and brought him a new cup of warm tea.

A big part of Red Son hates all of this unnecessary pampering, but he was beginning to get very tired and cold again and he didn’t have the energy to fight back.

“Why did you help me?” Red Son asks finally.

“Like I said before, you asked me to!” the man says jovially.

“No, not the bed thing - why did you rescue me?”

“You asked me to do that, too!” Upon seeing Red Son’s disbelieving expression he says, “Well, technically, I don’t think you knew it was me you were asking - you were kind of out of it - and also maybe you don’t remember because of the whole shock, and cold, and being injured thing…” Red Son notes that the blue one really likes talking with his hands as they gesture about in his explanation. Either way, Red Son is not convinced.

“But why? This must be some sort of trick, or maybe a way to hold me hostage for-- you’re not going to try to use me as leverage for my parents, are you? Or-- what happened to my parents?! You haven’t captured them, too?!” Red Son’s voice starts pitching wildly, and he casts a highly suspicious gaze at the man.

“Woah, woah there! It’s not any of that!” The man holds up his hands in surrender. “MK was able to stop DBK. It’s… difficult to explain what happened, but you all were carried away by a, uh, flash flood…” Red Son quirks an incredulous eyebrow up at that. But the Blue One continues, “I happened to find you washed up on shore by my house boat. To be honest, I don’t know what happened to your parents. ” He shrugs apologetically, as Red Son’s eyebrows knit together at that revelation.

He mulls over the explanation. But something didn’t track right. “But I-- I attacked your friends. We’re… enemies! There’s… no way you would help me unless you had some sort of a plot.”

“Red Son,” the Blue One says, (again with that annoying, honest, gentle voice!). “I helped you because you asked, and I wanted to. No other reason than that. You are free to go and look for your parents whenever you want.”

Red Son sits there, confused. He considers himself very good at reading people. If this guy wanted to intimidate him and hold him hostage, he could easily do so through force, if his appearance is any indication of that. But instead he used everything in his power to appear not threatening. So either the Blue One was one of the best liars that Red Son had ever seen, or he was telling the truth. And he isn’t sure which explanation perplexed him more. Furthermore, if he was free to go and he did find his parents, would they even want him back? Maybe this was secretly a ruse to do so and find that they had actually disowned them. He would certainly deserve that after what he did…

Red Son shakes his head as if to rid himself of those thoughts. “How did you know my name?” he asks instead.

“I try to remember the names of everybody that I know.” The man gives a toothy smile, and points a thumb at himself. “My name’s Sandy, by the way!”

Red Son scrunches up his nose in what he hopes is convincing disgust and not embarrassment at not knowing an enemy’s name. “O-of course I knew that was your name, Blue One! I just don’t lower myself to using the names of peasants!” He tries to make a show of folding his arms, but it’s difficult when one is bandaged to his torso.

The Blue One laughs loud and heartily, which is not the reaction that Red Son wanted, but by now he supposes is the reaction he should expect from this impossibly happy man. “That’s fine! But please,” he places the tray with the bell on a table next to the bed. “Feel free to ask for assistance if you ever need it!”

Red Son grunts in response and buries his nose back under the covers, sinking into the cocoon of blankets. He realizes that he is still very tired and his eyes drift shut. He feels that he can maybe relax a little bit around the Blue On-- Sandy. Still, uncertainty about his parents and his powers bubble beneath the surface. Maybe it would be better if he stayed here. He couldn’t show his face to his parents. Not after all this.

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #in need of refueling #lmk fanfiction #lmk fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #red son #sandy #injury #help #hurt/comfort #recovery #my writing #jadethest0ne

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starfiretheninja · 4 years

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BBRae- Shaking Off the Dust

This was originally a piece for the BBRae Zine, but that got cancelled. Regardless, I was proud that I got another piece done for these two and still want to bring it into the world. Enjoy!

Despite being part demon, a creature associated with darkness, Raven had a standard sleep schedule. The headaches induced from staying up too late tended to aggravate her powers and often required a longer meditation session to alleviate. On this particular night, however, the trilogy Raven was close to finishing was simply too much of a cliffhanger to leave until morning. Her extended reading session paid off, as the book ended on a surprisingly non-cliché and satisfactory note and she was only suffering from mild thirst.

Nothing a little tea can’t cure, Raven thought as she stood up, stretching her tense legs.

Leaving the quiet of her room, she noticed a dim light down the hall. Shuffling past Beast Boy’s room, she blinked wearily at the light that peeked out from under his door. Only unintelligible mumbling sounded from inside. Raven shrugged, figuring he was up late playing a tough level of Mega Monkey: Apes Rising on his GameDude console again. He hadn’t done that in some time, but old habits die hard.

With that, Raven continued on her way. Having made it to the kitchen and satisfied her parched throat with warm herbal tea, she came back past Beast Boy’s room. This time, she heard a yelp, followed by the crashing of Beast Boy and what sounded like a stack of comic books hitting the floor.

Raven sighed. She couldn’t let that go uninvestigated. At the very least, she felt she had to know if Beast Boy had managed to break a toe tripping over his massive collection of nerdy treasures again.

Opening the door, she spied Beast Boy rubbing his face. Around him were his possessions, pulled from his closet and tossed around the room in what, to her eyes, was a haphazard mess. The garbage can in the corner was stuffed well past the brim with dolls—action figures, as he insisted—that Raven was certain he had had since the Tower was first built. Beast Boy caught sight of her. Surprised, then sheepish, he attempted to stand amidst the scattered pile surrounding him.

“Care to explain what you’re up to on this once peaceful night?” she inquired as he morphed into a hummingbird, flitted over the pile, and returned to his human form right in front of her.

“I’m, uh, cleaning up a bit,” he said, clearing his throat.

“If by ‘cleaning’ you mean ‘purging your room of all of your cherished comics and collectibles’.”

“If you’d like to help, then it would get done quicker. Heck, you could pick it all up with your powers.” He gestured towards the remaining work. Raven didn’t take the bait.

“I’d rather not be partially responsible for the post-cleaning regret you could have.” She took a pointed look at his belongings, as if to emphasize just how much he was suggesting tossing out.

“Aw come on, Raven.” He picked up a random comic by his feet and waved it. “Do you really think I’ll miss Goo Goblins #37? I think I’ve moved on past that one.”

Raven shrugged in slight agreement. The admittedly campy-looking comic was certainly goofy enough to make a seventeen-year-old question if he was engaging in appropriate level material. Still, Beast Boy was always one to cling to childish endeavors.

“If you insist,” is all she could comment. If he was truly ready for such an adjustment, she wouldn’t be the one to stop him.

Grinning satisfactorily, Beast Boy took to scooping up his disheveled comics and setting them in lumps just outside his room. Raven stepped further into his room to allow him through the open door.

“I’ll just set these out here for now. Then I can get them into boxes and maybe even pass them out to some kids at their schools. I know a few Dirty Dan fans who would kill for some of these issues,” Beast Boy thought out loud, already beaming at the thought of making a kid’s day.

“Just as long as their parents don’t object,” Raven snarked, hoping that Dirty Dan wasn’t about a kid who refused to take a bath. The last thing Robin would want was a surge of complaints from parents claiming they were bad influences on the youth.

Watching Beast Boy’s slow progress, Raven’s curiosity got the better of her and she leaned down to investigate what kind of reading Beast Boy had invested himself in for all of these years. There were plenty of brightly colored covers of fictional superhero groups. Why these were written when literal superheroes saved the world was beyond her. Beneath that was a handful of light horror, with cartoonish monsters chasing hapless teenage victims. Perfect for a demographic who hadn’t witnessed literal demons in their lifetime. Next was . . .

Raising it up for a closer look, it dawned on her just what she was holding.

“Wait, is this-?”

“Crud! My bad!” Beast Boy rushed over to carefully take the book from her hands. “This must have been mixed with my Deranged Daredevils collection. I wasn’t going to throw this one out, promise.”

Beast Boy reached over her to place the book on the singular chair in the room. So far, the supposed ‘safe’ pile consisted of childhood classics, Insect Care for Dummies, 1001 Drop Dead Puns, and a few wildlife encyclopedias. The newest addition was gifted to Beast Boy by Raven for his first birthday after the team had formed. Back then, she hardly knew him, but didn’t want to deny him the joy of receiving a gift from someone he always reached out to. So, she decided on something that could either come across as a gag gift or a genuine appeal to his interests, despite her complete uncertainty on whether or not he would appreciate it.

When he ripped open the packaging and read the title, The Essential Calvin and Hobbes, he lit up.

“Oh, cool! I’ve read some of these before! I don’t know half the words that come out of the kid’s mouth, but the tiger is pretty cool! Thanks, Raven.” He gave her a classic toothy smile and Raven was admittedly relieved that he didn’t reject the gift or feel any disappointment.

That was years ago, though. Was he still so attached to that particular book? Raven had given him far more personal gifts since getting to know him on a more familiar level.

“Why is that one an exception?” she posed the question as he squatted next to the pile she was looking through.

“Hmm?” Beast Boy looked back for clarification, and a light bulb went off.

“Oh! That’s easy. Because you gave it to me. You probably knew I wouldn’t get half the jokes, but you took a chance anyway. Maybe I’d get it eventually, you know?” His voice trailed off at that last statement.

There it was. Something truly was nagging at him, then. That something had pushed him to embark on a spontaneous cleaning spree to either distract or remedy. While Beast Boy was, oddly enough, the toughest one on the team for her to read empathetically, he was normally easy to understand by his actions alone. However, she had noticed a pattern with him over the years. He was the best at wearing a mask. Robin attempted to remain stoic, but one could still tell what he was feeling. Beast Boy, on the other hand, played pretend. Concealing aggravation and hurt with a stream of jokes was his fallback. This left him with buried sadness, which was never good for the long-term psyche.

Considering how to approach the situation, Raven supposed prodding him a bit would perhaps bring more clarity as to the cause of his distress.

“Hmm. I figured your vocabulary would expand.”

“When, though?” Beast Boy let slip out. He asked so sullenly, the way that a child would when they were seeking approval. Raven recognized this tone from her time spent with Melvin as she began her early teen years. The girl wanted more independence, but a part of her still sought to know that Raven was proud of her in everything that she did.

Upon realizing his slip-up, Beast Boy’s eyes darted around the room. He nabbed a toy from the pile before him and held it up.

“Does this one bring back memories or what?” he chuckled, beaming a large smile. It was the singing monkey with the cymbals that sounded while Raven’s manifested fear chased the Titans throughout the Tower.

Raven sighed softly. That was a poor diversion and he knew it.

“Beast Boy, why are you doing this?” she queried, gesturing around the room. “This ‘spring cleaning’ is too out of character to come out of nowhere.”

“Can’t a guy want a little more walking room?”

“Not when it involves pretending that nothing’s wrong.”

Raven’s eyes met his. He held contact for mere moments before the façade cracked.

Beast Boy’s false smile slowly dropped. He knew he shouldn’t be hiding from her. Raven was one of his best friends, after all.

“’s not a big deal,” he mumbled, looking away.

“It is if it’s bothering you,” she responded, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. Beast Boy turned back to her, setting the monkey down.

How would he start?

“It’s kind of complicated.”

Raven had the time for him.

“Then start from the beginning.”

With that, Beast Boy sat back, leaning his cheek on a propped-up knee. Raven lowered herself into a crisscross, fully facing him. He took a few moments to collect his thoughts, memories reflecting clearly in his eyes.

“Back, ah, with the Doom Patrol, I was just a kid when Mento started training me. He saw that my powers could be controlled and used for the greater good. And I wanted to be a hero! I wanted to help others. But I wasn’t used to getting shot at or transforming so much I passed out. It was rough for a while. And I messed up. A lot.

“Mento never let me forget any of the mistakes I made, even long after I learned from them. Sometimes, it took longer than it should have to learn, but I eventually got it. But that wasn’t good enough for him. It was for Rita, but Mento was the one in charge, so there was never an end to it.”

Beast Boy exhaled, stopping for a moment to likely push away memories that were crawling out of unpleasant depths of his subconscious.

“And that’s part of why you left?” Raven prompted.

“That was a big part of it. Just one day decided that I had enough, and I thought I could grow stronger if I became the sidekick of someone who could actually help me build on when I did something right. And when I met you guys, things were finally different, and everyone could rely on me in a fight. That felt good and I thought that maybe I wasn’t a total screw up after all. But today, with the mission I just- I messed up really bad and I knew what I did wrong right as it was happening.”

Oh.

Raven and Starfire had split off from the boys to tend to another emergency and didn’t hear back from them until after their mission was complete. Robin had seemed somewhat frazzled, but otherwise they had been successful as well. She hadn’t heard about any particular difficulties on their end.

Beast Boy continued on, his frustrations spilling out at this point.

“I mean, Robin and Cyborg were able to fix it, but Mumbo almost got away. We had him, but I slipped up and he did a lot more damage before we nabbed him again. That’s the kind of dumb mistake I made when I was just a kid, except back then, people died.” He nearly choked on his last words.

Raven’s thoughtful expression instantly morphed into a mixture between solemnity and shock. She had no idea he carried such a weight.

“Beast Boy . . .”

He let out a humorless laugh, his eyes unfocused and unwilling to meet hers.

“Do you ever just . . . get frustrated that you haven’t changed at all? Sometimes I still feel like the kid that can’t follow an order without screwing something up. I’m trying to get better at my job, but that’s not enough when lives are in danger,” he agonized, reaching up to grip his hair in his fist.

His emotions were beginning to overwhelm him. Beast Boy was so used to holding these demons in that he didn’t know how to handle them when they reared their ugly heads. And he hated himself for dumping his worries on Raven. She didn’t need to be dragged into his problems; he should be able to handle them on his own by now.

However, one fact that Beast Boy forgot was that Raven was a healer. She knew that part of the healing process included recognizing the hurt so one could fully recover.

“Beast Boy, you’re right to feel frustrated over this.” Raven began gently, so as to properly acknowledge his despair. “But you have grown up through the years that I’ve known you.”

“Today might prove you wrong,” he sighed defeatedly.

“One bad day doesn’t always indicate a pattern. Failing to react well under pressure happens to even the most disciplined of people.”

“Does it happen to you?”

Raven blinked. Where did that come from?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always so in control and know what to do. I just don’t know if I can ever be as level-headed as you are.” Truthfully, though he complained about her supposed standoffishness when they first met, Beast Boy always admired her ability to remain calm. She could be cranky at times, but Raven was the Titan to turn to when you needed sage-like wisdom and a calming presence.

“. . . Not always.”

Beast Boy paused. He met her earnest and somewhat hesitant eyes. Where did that come from?

Raven pressed her lips tightly together, then, ever so slowly, began to speak.

“Sometimes . . . I think that I’m still as much of an isolated shut-in as when the team formed. You guys understand my snark, but I still go too far at times and I can tell the others don’t want to tell me that I hurt their feelings. We all struggle with insecurity, Beast Boy, no matter how well we hide it.”

Beast Boy leaned toward her, resting a hand in the space between them.

“You’ve grown so much though, Raven. I’ve noticed how much more you smile nowadays, and you actually talk to us about what you’re thinking about. I don’t think you would have been caught dead in my room like this when we first met,” he cracked a small smile, realizing just how intimate their situation was.

Raven relaxed, quietly grateful that the Beast Boy she knew was reemerging.

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

Now it was her turn.

“But the same goes for you. You take initiative when it’s called for and frankly, some of your strategies are the reason we make it through rougher battles.”

“Name one time,” Beast Boy held up a finger, still not entirely convinced.

“The initial charge against the Brotherhood. Morphing into a jellyfish to filter Scarecrow’s fear gas. Disabling that bomb as a cockroach so you wouldn’t be detected or incinerated,” Raven listed off confidently.

Beast Boy looked down, pondering her words. His shoulders relaxed and a soft smile slowly crept up onto his cheeks.

“Huh. I guess that was pretty mature of me,” he chuckled.

“You know,” she started, peering her head down to catch his eyes once more. “If you’re so worried about making mistakes, maybe talk to Robin about changing your training routine. Having variety might help your ability to react appropriately to any situation.”

“Yeah. That’d probably be a good place to start.”

“Also,” she began, gesturing to the mess around them. “Growing up doesn’t mean getting rid of your childhood joys. It just means you step up without being asked to.”

“I suppose you’re right. But I’ve been meaning to clean up for a while. Kind of hard to stay focused with so much clutter in your room.”

“Maybe leave it until you get a good night’s sleep,” she suggested.

“Eventually, but first there’s something I want to try.”

“And that would be . . .?”

Beast Boy reached back and grabbed the treasure that had sparked their night of revelations.

“Giving this book a try.” He waved the Calvin and Hobbes compilation before her. “You’ve granted me so much wisdom just now, I must have aged a few decades mentally. That is, if you’re not too tired.”

His hopeful expression was too much to pass up, especially at a time when he had opened up so much to her. It was out of character, but Raven was willing to give it a shot.

“I think I’m up for a little humor.”

Beast Boy mock grabbed his heart.

“Such an anomaly only comes once every other blood moon, so I’ll have to cherish you discovering your sense of humor.”

“The anomaly will pass faster the longer you talk about it.”

“Got it.”

They sat on the floor together, each holding one end of the book. Page by page, Beast Boy laughed outwardly at Calvin’s incessantly precocious dialogue. His eyes lit up as he brushed Raven’s shoulder, giddy to share the joke with her. Raven, in return, chuckled at Hobbes’ playful antics and allowed Beast Boy to see her rare carefree expressions.

What happened next truly made their night. The punchline was perfectly worded and timed for the both of them and they shared a singular moment of genuine laughter. Raven’s only a brief chortle and Beast Boy’s a lengthier guffaw, but the laughter of two friends nonetheless.

Raven could have denied the moment and blamed her increasingly delirious state. But she wasn’t about to deny Beast Boy the rare opportunity to have made her laugh. After all, sharing this moment with him was the best feeling she had all day.

#bbrae #beast boy #raven #teen titans #fanfic #i write

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thisismysanderssidesblog · 5 years

Text

Demon AU- One Shot

So I wrote this at like 1:30 am the other day while slightly stoned. And I haven’t written fanfiction in like two years. But I edited it and its not terrible, so here it is:

Its a prompt from this list by @infinimay

Demon AU- Someone is bored and tries to summon a demon. Unfortunately, they didn’t do the ritual quite right, and the demon is looking rather… To be fair, the book never clarified that the size of the summoning circle determines the size of the demon!

“You gotta be fucking kidding me......” Virgil thought as he stared up at the three mortals who summoned him here.........

“Did.....did it work?” the one who was dressed as a flamboyant prince asked, staring down at the rather smol demon standing in the middle of the summoning circle.

“Well seeing as there was something not in the circle before you uttered that cantation, and now there is. I would say, yes Roman. It did work” the man wearing a black button-up with a blue tie and a pair of glasses on his nose stated.

“Don’t say my name in front of the demon Logan!” The one referred to as Roman screeched.

“What if that gives him power over me of some sort!!” he yelled, clearly panicking.

“That's preposterous. This is a demon, not a fae creature Roman.” the tie-wearing man stated.

“You said it again!” Roman screeched.

“I just stated that the creature can’t possibly control you by just knowing your name. And even if it could, you have now stated my name so we would both be in the same boat” The man known as Logan stated. “You don’t see me freaking out about the demon knowing my name do you?”

Roman looked at Logan flabbergasted “Just because he hasn’t tried to control us yet doesn’t mean he can’t!!” he yelled. “Look at him! He’s probably waiting for the perfect moment to use his full powers” He said staring down the demon.

‘You have to be fucking kidding me’ Virgil thought again looking at the two mortals who were bickering about him. He didn't even know how to use his full powers yet. As far as demons went he was still pretty young. He knew one day he would be able to master his full powers. But as of today the most he could do was simple illusions, intimidation tactics, and bind someone's soul to hell if they were already bad enough. He was hardly the demon most mortals would try and make a deal with, as he was so much less experienced than other demons he knew. Corrupting Mortals? He was more likely to make them turn out good than bad. Making deals? Again all he could do was simple illusion magic. And knowing this guy's name? Did absolutely squat for him.

While the first two mortals continued to bicker, the small demon looked over to the third human. The third human was staring at him in curiosity and partial confusement. The third human also wore glasses, very similar to the tie-wearing man, he also wore a light blue polo and had and gray cardigan wrapped around his shoulders. As Virgil made eye contact with the third human he saw the mortal begin to smile. It was a warm smile. A comforting smile. A smile that Virgil had never seen before. “Hmm.” He thought to himself.

“Well why don’t we just ask him then huh!?” the princely man yelled loudly at the other. Ah right. They were still bickering about his “powers” He turned his head to look back at the two of them.

“Very well.” The man in the tie stated before turning to look at Virgil. His gaze cold and steely, void of most emotion. ‘Geez....” Virgil thought. ‘Aren’t I supposed to be the demon?’ he thought to himself.

“Do you possess the power to control us using our names?” the mortal asked Virgil. Virgil stared at him. “Umm...don’t you think if I could I would have used that to get out of here by now?” Virgil asked the human.

“See Roman? Precisely as I thought. He can't control us’ just by knowing our names.” Logan said to the other.

“How do we know he’s not LYING? Huh, Logan?? He’s a demon. That's what they do. They lie. Why would he tell about his dark mysterious powers?” Roman asking accusingly towards Virgil.

Virgil blinked at this man. He guessed he did make some fair points. Still, if he had powers that can help him out of this situation he would have used them by now. Satan knows he was not a fan of being six inches tall just because these morals don’t know how to draw a summoning circle correctly. He may be a demon, but he was not a super powerful one. These humans held more power over him at the moment then he did. Maybe if he was the same height as them that could be different. But right now he was feeling pretty useless.

“Actually deception is more of my brother's job.” He spoke up for the first time. Maybe if he talked to these humans he could get them to erase at least part of the summoning circle and he could return to Hell.

The three heads shot towards him. “You have a brother.” The one known as Logan stated. Virgil looked at him. “Umm. Yeah. I have a brother. Is that really so crazy?” He asked him.

“No. I suppose not” Logan responded. “It’s just something I never thought about. Granted before today I hadn’t even entertained the possibility that demons could be real. It wasn’t until Roman had this grand plan to-” He was cut off by the one in the prince outfit.

“Yeah yeah, enough of this chit chat about family or whatever. What do you want with us demon? Have you come to steal our souls? Corrupt us to the dark side? Eternally bestow misfortune upon us!? Well, you can try all you like! But I swear I will protect my friends from you're evil doings with my last breath. So if want to get to us you have to go through me first!” Roman yelled out in a dramatic speech glaring at the demon.

Virgil stared at him. ‘Is this guy serious....’ he asked himself. When he saw that the man's gaze did not falter he internally groaned. ‘He is serious....god damn it.’

“Um. No.” He stated to the human. “I don’t know if you can remember this with your apparent short-term memory loss. But you summoned me here.” he snarkily said to the human. “I didn’t have choice in coming here. Now if you would please be so kind as to erase a small portion of this summoning circle. I will gladly be out of your hair and on my way back to Hell.” He told the humans.

“Hah! Nice try demon!” The one known as Roman yelled. ‘Satan damn it.’ Virgil thought to himself. “We won’t undo that summoning circle! It's the only thing keeping you contained at the moment! Why on earth would we potentially release you!” He bellowed at the demon.

“Now Roman! It's not nice to hold people captive who don’t want to be here!” The third man finally spoke up. “If........” The man looked at Virgil.

“Virgil.”

“If Virgil doesn’t want to be here, we can’t force him to stay here!” He said to Roman.

“We literally can though” Both Roman and Logan said in unison before looking at each other. The third man glared at them. “That doesn’t mean we should though! Besides! Look at him! He’s so small who could he hurt!” he said gesturing to the small demon.

‘Yeah no thanks to you idiots....’ Virgil grumbled to himself. The third man looked at him surprised. “What was that kiddo?” He asked. Virgil didn’t respond. It was bad enough they now knew he couldn’t leave without erasing the summoning circle. He didn't think it would be the brightest idea to tell them that this isn't his normal size. They might never let him leave if they knew he could potentially be much larger. At the moment they may see him as less of a threat and potentially let him go.

Damn Deceit for pushing him into the summoning circle. He didn't have an interest in collecting human souls or corrupting mortals to be doomed to hell. Call him a bad demon but he really didn’t care much about mortals, to begin with. And it was almost as if Deceit could sense that this summoning circle would be smaller then average, making the demon who came through only appear to be six inches tall. Since these humans didn’t have a specific demon they were trying to summon the summoning circle just appeared in a random location in Hell for any demon to jump, or in his case be pushed, through.

The third man looked at Virgil. “Virgil kiddo. Did you say something?” He asked the demon. Virgil scoffed. “Yeah, I did. But I’m not repeating myself.” He stated towards the cheery man.

“Oh! Okay, kiddo.” He turned towards Logan and Roman. “Guys, we can’t keep him here. We have to let him go home!” He said to the other two.

“But Patton! What if he brings an army of other demons here to collect our souls and damn us to Hell now that he knows who we are and where we are!” Roman asked.

“Why would I do that??” Virgil exclaimed. He didn't understand humans.

“Why wouldn’t you!? You are literally a demon! Do you not know what you are??” Roman yelled at him. Virgil was getting real sick of this guy.

“Yes I know I’m a demon! Of course, I know I’m a demon! I just happen to not care about mortals all that much, and I just want to go home! My stupid brother pushed me into the summoning circle before I could do anything because he knows I have no interest in most normal demon hobbies and he wanted to fuck with me! Now if you could please just erase some of this fucking summoning circle I will be able to go home and I can stop standing around listening to three argue for god knows how long!” He yelled, finally snapping.

His breathing had turned heavy, and he could feel his chest tighten. He didn’t know a single other demon who got anxiety like he did. But of course, he had always been an outlier. He could feel the panic begin to surround him. He just wanted to go home. He could feel the pace of his breathing pick up and his chest tightens even more as he felt the need to curl into himself rise. “Please. Just let me go home.”

The three humans stared at him as his breathing picked up. “Kiddo...” The one now known as Patton began moving towards him. Virgil backed up as much as he could inside the summoning circle. He may be a demon, but he was currently 6 inches tall, and technically immortal, but getting crushed by a human would still hurt. And with the current state he was in, he was in no mood to add more stress then he was already feeling.

Patton stopped as Virgil backed away from him. He looked to the others who also looked shocked. Roman more the Logan. “A demon.....can get anxious?” he asked the others, but mostly to himself.

“Of Course.. I can.... get..anxious! I am the physical.....embodiment of.....Anxiety!” Virgil screeched through the panicked breath. Roman backed away from him slightly. Logan, however, took a hesitant step towards him and crouched down slightly. Virgil flinched away.

“Virgil?” Logan called to the being in front of him. Said demon raised his eyes to look at the mortal.

“Can you do me a favor and go through this breathing exercise with me. I am sure it will help calm you down and we will then be able to release you so you may return home.” He stated. Virgil met Logan's eyes and saw the sincerity in them.

“But Logan!” Roman started. “No buts Roman. We are letting Virgil go home. If he wanted to harm us in any way he would have by now. Clearly, all we are doing is causing stress in a creature's life who did not ask for it.” His eyes returned to Virgil who while was still heavy breathing was able to give a nod in agreement to the breathing exercises.

“Excellent” Logan said. “Now I want you to breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7 seconds and then let out for 8 seconds. Do you think you can do that with me?” He asked.

Virgil nodded his head and started to breathe in as Logan began to count. “1....2.....3....4....Hold...2... 3....4.....5....6....7...Out....2....3.....4...5....6....7....8. Okay again.” This went on for a few minutes and as Virgil fell into the pattern he felt himself begin to calm a bit, and as much of the anxiety that could left him.

After a few moments of being calm, he looked up at Logan. “.......thanks...” He said.

“Not a problem. If you suffer from large amounts of anxiety, which I assume you do seeing as you are the ‘physical embodiment of anxiety’ It would probably do you well to know one or two breathing exercises to help calm you down and allow you to relax a little bit.” Logan told him.

Virgil nodded his head. “Makes sense I suppose. I had never thought of that before...” He told them. “My brother thinks I should be focusing on making my powers and anxiety stronger so I can use it on mortals. But honestly, I’m not too interested in corrupting humans and making them fear me.” He didn't know why he was telling them all this. Maybe it was because they gave him a coping mechanism for his anxiety? Either way. He should probably stop talking now.

But what he said caught the attention of the humans. “Oh? So what do you like to do then? If you're not interested in, corrupting humans?” the one named Patton asked. Normally Virgil would tell him to mind his own business. But there was something about this moral. Despite being a demon, Virgil couldn't help but naturally trust this human.

“.......I like to paint,” he answered after a few moments. “Not the craziest thing in the world, but pretty crazy when you're a demon who doesn’t care about scaring mortals....” he said.

“Paint?” Roman perked up at this. “You like to paint? What do you like to paint?” He asked him while trying not to show to much interest. Virgil stared at him for a moment.

“Probably not anything you would be too interested in Princey.” he snarked at the man, not wanting to get into details of what he painted. He couldn’t imagine humans being too thrilled with the things he painted.

“Princey??” The man let out some offended noises.

“Yeah, you dress like that, you act like a self-centered prick, you get the nickname Princey,” Virgil responded to the man. He turned back to the other two. “Look, it's been great chatting and all, but I really need to get home. I won’t try and corrupt you or anything like that. But i need you to erase some of the summoning circle so i can transport back Hell. I promise you will never see me again, I won’t come back around to bug you. But I really just want to leave.” He said to them.

Patton and Logan exchanged looks before Patton nodded and walked forwards, kneeling down and erasing some of the summoning circle. Virgil let out a sigh of relief before making eye contact with Patton. “Thanks...see ya probably never.” and popped out of sight.

Patton stood back up and exchanged looks with Logan, behind them Roman was still grumbling to himself about the nickname given to him by a demon.

“You think we’ll ever see him again?”

“I don’t know Patton. I don't know.”

#sanderssides #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #writing #g/t writing #g/t #romansanders #logansanders #pattonsanders #virgilsanders #tiny!virgil #deceit mention

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xwaywardhuntress · 5 years

Text

Family Don’t End In Blood (Part Eight)

Summary: What’s the damn plan Jack Belphegor?

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: Season 15 spoilers, language

Word Count: 3900+

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. This is fanfiction only. Please do not redistribute my writings on other sites, horrible or not. Thanks!

Author’s Note: This series is a season 15 rewrite with reader inserted.

Catch Up: Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

The plan to save Kevin seemed pretty simple. Dean and Sam would show up to meet Jack the Ripper and when the timing was right, Rowena would appear with the crystal with Cas and Y/N as back up and help. There was one problem. Rowena and Castiel were adamant that Y/N stay behind and that they could handle it without her. That argument did not go well with the huntress until Dean had agreed with them putting an end to that problem.

As everyone prepared for the plan, Dean was the last to be ready as he took Y/N aside. “I’m not trying to be a protective asshole, just so you know. But while we’re going to save Kevin, you should watch the kid.” His eyes glanced over at Belphegor who had been standing at the doorframe of the room when the plan was being discussed. The demon had been clear that he shouldn’t join due to being recognizable to the spirits. He had been their torturer, according to him. “After what Ketch said and what you told me you heard from Jack, we need to make sure an eye is kept on him at all times.”

Y/N sighed, knowing that Dean was right. “Yeah, okay. I’ll watch him.” She whispered back.

The older Winchester pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a moment. “Take this…” He gestured downward as he stuffed a pointed object into her jacket pocket.

She pulled the item out slightly, recognizing the handle of the knife. It was Ruby’s knife.

When Dean pulled away from her, he rubbed the side of her arms. “Take care and…call me if you need me. I’ll find a way to be there. ” He smiled at her.

She returned the smile. “Same goes for you.”

And then the older Winchester left with everyone else as Y/N was left in the room with Belphegor.

The demon looked over at her, from what she could assume, as he grinned, “Well, I think I’ll just go find myself something fun to do in the meantime.”

As the boy was about to leave the room, Y/N cleared her throat, walking over to Dean’s duffel bag as she grabbed a shotgun. “You’re with me. We’re going on a patrol run.”

Belphegor frowned, “If you were actually listening earlier, I’m pretty sure the angel and witch wanted you out of the action…”

“Yeah, well I will be as long as the spell holds. And that’s why you’re coming with me. If the barrier happens to break down for any reason, I expect you to help keep the spirits at bay. After all, you’d want to be proven useful still, right?” She eyed him, touching on the implication Dean shared earlier during the group discussion. The only reason the demon was still around was that the older Winchester found him useful for now.

The demon wore a straight facial expression as he contemplated her words carefully.

With no snarky response back but agreeing to go with her, Y/N grinned as she cucked the shotgun. “Let’s roll.”

“You’re definitely as stubborn as a Winchester. No wonder you and Dean pair up so well. I do have to admit that I’ve been shipping you too since the stories of you both first started to pour in into hell.” Belphegor complimented.

Y/N rolled her eyes, not enjoying this small talk that had been going on since they first stepped foot out of the school. Now she had wished she would’ve fought harder to join in Kevin’s rescue escapade. She could tell the demon was trying to get on her good side, and she couldn’t help but think it was for another reason.

As they turned a corner, Y/N spotted a body on the ground just a few steps past the barrier. Quickly, she ran to it, squatting down and turning the body over. It was Ketch. “Ketch?” She shoved him once before pressing her two fingers on his throat to feel for a pulse.

There was definitely still a pulse as the man began waking up. He looked up to see the face of Y/N as he pushed himself to stand back up.

Y/N assisted him by holding him by his arm, “What the hell happened Ketch?”

“I don't quite remember.” He answered a bit incoherently. “I believe I came across a soul but as I took it out, it seemed to have taken me out as well.” He added.

“Wow, the great Ketch being taken out by a soul. Who knew that’s all it took?” She sarcastically commented. Despite Dean being able to get along with this man, Y/N still wasn’t a big fan.

Expecting a smart remark back, Y/N was met with silence. Instead, Ketch seemed to be checking himself out.

“Uh, are you okay?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Ah, yes. Splendid.” Ketch smiled at her, a smile not expected. His expression quickly changed to surprise and almost terror when his eyes landed on Belphegor.

Before Y/N could ask what his problem was, a series of gun shots were heard nearby. Quickly, Y/N ran to where the sounds of gun fire came from as Belphegor and Ketch followed.

It was then that they ran into the Winchesters, Cas, and Rowena. Dean had been firing shots at what looked like nothing. There were energy bursts that appeared before the group in random spots.

“What the hell is going on?” Y/N yelled over Dean’s shots.

“Hm. It seems the souls are testing the barriers. This looks to be a weak point. Dean seems to be shooting some, but there’s still a lot.” The demon answered.

When Dean decided to stop shooting, he acknowledged the extra heads: Y/N, Belphegor, and Ketch. “How many is a lot?” He asked the demon boy. Belphegor answered that the older Winchester would run out of bullets before he could even get an eighth of the spirits currently present on the other side of the barrier.

Overhearing the demon’s comment, Y/N turned to Sam. “What happened with the crystal? Can we-?” She began to suggest, but Sam interrupted knowing what his friend was thinking.

“Rowena!” The younger Winchester called out as he made eye contact with the red head, quickly glancing at the crystal in her hands.

Rowena understood what Sam was implying, but before she could react the crystal was stolen away from her by Ketch. Confused and surprised by Ketch’s sudden behavior, Dean was the first to scoff and tell the man to quit messing around. Ketch had replied with a smirk, slowly walking backwards past the magical barrier, as he began to mock the group. The boys questioned him as to why he would want to help the spirits, but it was Y/N who raised her shotgun back up and aimed it at the man with the crystal. She had an inkling feeling that the man speaking before them all was not exactly Ketch and she had that feeling since she first found him lying on the ground earlier. His current actions were only feeding her suspicions even more.

As Ketch continued with the unnecessary monologue of how powerful he would be, it was Rowena who figured him out. “Francis…”

The soul in Ketch’s body smiled at the witch. “Hello again, my little witch…” Francis began as other souls appeared beside him.

Y/N did not want to hear any more speeches and with Rowena confirming Ketch was being possessed by a man named Francis, the huntress shot first and asked questions later. Ketch’s body fell to the ground as another older man’s spirit appeared where the body once stood.

The shot caused the group to look over at Y/N, who shrugged, “What? I’ve had enough bad guy monologue the past week to last me a lifetime and someone had to do it.”

The crystal had fallen from the body’s hands as it rolled out towards Rowena. She immediately took it back in her possession as she began chanting the spell to absorb the souls. The first soul being captured was Francis as the remaining began scattering to escape from the absorption.

“They’re leaving.” Belphegor commented as the crystal’s spell began to stop. From what had just occurred, it was safe to assume that the crystal was not quite the solution they were hoping for. There were too many souls to capture from such a large area and it only increased as time went on.

“So what now?” Dean turned to ask the group, realizing the soul catcher plan wasn’t that great of an idea either. It looked like it was back to the drawing board.

Back at the school, Castiel and Rowena informed Y/N on what had happened with Kevin and the souls. There had been souls that escaped when the Soul Catcher was first activated, including Jack the Ripper, whom Y/N found out was also Francis. Kevin had shared with them all that Francis had a plan B, which led to the encounter at the edge of the magic barrier. And she knew how that ended up. Ketch was sent to the nearest hospital after shooting him with salt ammo and the Winchesters were left with a personal side mission of trying to help Kevin with the help of Belphegor.

Did Belphegor really know how to close hell? Y/N couldn’t help but think about. Right now, she was beginning to doubt Jack’s words as the demon boy had many opportunities to share how to close hell, especially with the last plan they had not going so well.

The Soul Catcher wasn’t exactly a failed plan, but it also wasn’t an entirely successful one either. The real issue was the millions upon millions of souls that were escaping hell. Eventually, the crystal would hit its limit and they would still be stuck in the same current situation. They had to do something about hell being open if only Belphegor would share his damn plan already.

“I have an idea.” The demon announced as all eyes but two landed on him. Y/N and Dean looked at one another first. Their eyes silently asking each other if this was finally the moment the demon would spill the beans on how to close hell, that Jack insisted the monster knew.

“Do you know another spell?” It was Sam who asked first.

Belphegor awkwardly grinned, “Not exactly. You all, uh, probably won’t like it, which is why I haven’t brought it up till now. But you all seem like you’re in a reeeal pickle.”

After Belphegor had helped release Kevin from the barrier with the Winchesters and returned to the school, everyone had been non-stop researching a way to close hell again. Rowena had found one spell that would strengthen the existing barrier spell…temporarily again. However, the group had had enough of temporary solutions. And so, they continued to research till they found something more permanent, which was not going well at all. That is until the demon decided to finally speak up.

Y/N crossed her arms while sitting as she stared at the demon boy. “Well spill.”

Dean had stood up from where he sat and walked over, standing behind Y/N’s chair. The others gathered closer as well, surrounding Belphegor.

Belphegor let out a breath of air before smiling, “So you all know Lilith, right? The first demon created by Lucifer, blah, blah, blah, the last seal of the Apocalypse…”

“Get to the point, kid.” Dean ordered, very aware of who Lilith was as Sam narrowed his eyes at the mention of the white-eyed demon.

“Right. Well, as the first demon created, she was given a special item. Let’s call it a crook. Yeah, you know, one of those, uh, curvy ended canes that Shepards use? Little Bo Peep? It doesn’t matter. It’s actually more of a horn. Anyways, when Lilith began sending demons off to Earth to do her bidding, there was a liiii-ttle…” He enunciated, continuing, “….problem. I mean, yeah, she commanded absolute loyalty in Hell, but there was no guarantee that once her minions were topside, that they wouldn’t just take advantage of the situation. She needed to control her flock. So, the Crook was forged. It could retrieve all of Hell’s lost creatures and bring them…” He snapped his fingers. “…straight back home.”

“And why haven’t we heard about this before?” The angel asked, very skeptical about this idea. He wasn’t alone in feeling that way as it sounded too good to be true. If it were real, it was an item that would’ve been super helpful from the very beginning.

The demon shrugged nonchalantly. “She never needed to use it. When she ruled, it was enough for us that we knew she could. And then when Crowley took over, he had other forms of discipline: endless lines, endless paperwork, etc…He also didn’t spend a whole lot of time down there – with us anyways.”

Now came the real question. “And where is it exactly?” Y/N asked raising a brow. She had a feeling of where it could be, seeing as no one, including Cas had heard about it before. The lack of knowledge about it only meant that it was kept away and most likely in the one place that no one would want to go too. Hell.

Belphegor turned to face Y/N as he grinned. “Last I heard, it was in Lilith’s chamber, which has been sealed for ages. Now that all the doors of Hell are open, it’s probably just sitting there, ripe for the taking.” He began moving his head as if looking around at each person present in the room. “So the plan would be, I get the Crook, sound the Crook, and we suck all of Hell’s ghosts back into Hell. Then if the witch is feeling up to it, I slam the door shut behind them.” He turned to look at Rowena, as other eyes followed.

“What is he talking about?” Sam asked, confused with everyone else about the last bit of the demon’s plan.

The witch’s eyes widened as the demon’s attention fell on her, but she knew what he had been referring too. She’d never admit it, but the fact that this supposedly lower level demon knew of a spell that she had devised on her own was a bit frightening. Just who was Belphegor exactly? As all eyes were on her, she smiled awkwardly, “Well…there’s a spell I know of. One of my own devising. The Sanetur Acre Vulnus. A healing spell of a kind. If this gateway to Hell isn’t a gate at all, but a wound…” A realization that had hit her earlier after the Francis fiasco. “…or a rupture, I can use the spell to undo the damage Chuck did. Ideally, the hole will heal and close itself up. We’d have to time it perfectly.” The redhead looked down for a moment after speaking as if pondering over additional information to share.

Y/N noticed Rowena’s look but decided she would ask about it later, as well as why the witch had been treating her a bit differently since arriving. The witch had been against the huntress helping out in what seemed like any dangerous situation. A hunter’s life was dangerous 24/7 and usually before, Rowena was glad to have the help of a female hunter rather than male the majority of the time.

As the group contemplated about this plan, there was an issue and possible chance to resolve one additional problem the older Winchester worried about. “Alright, there’s one thing that bugs me with your plan. Let’s say you go to hell, find the crook. How will we know when to start Rowena’s spell?” The older Winchester asked.

The demon replied with an answer that was not really an answer. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

If this Crook was real, then it was probably the best plan they had and all of them knew that. As Sam began to inquire about the ingredients Rowena would need for the healing spell, Dean leaned over to Y/N’s ear level. “I think this is our chance, sweetheart.” He whispered, already putting together a plan to keep the demon in hell once the plan went into motion.

She looked up at the green-eyed hunter as she got out of her chair. “You’re not going with him.” Y/N all but ordered. She had known Dean long enough to know what he was thinking.

Before the older hunter could respond, his name was called out by the witch. Y/N and Dean turned to face Rowena.

“Dean, my dear boy, we will need you to be by the rupture. You will be near the edge to serve as a fulcrum, or carrier.” The witch explained, which caused the older Winchester’s thoughts to change to this new task handed to him.

“Why me? And where will you be?” Dean asked, staring back at the witch with a questionable look.

“I will be somewhere safe to do the spell, but near the rupture as well. Dibs on Samuel as my assistant.” She shared.

Dean looked at his brother to confirm if Rowena was serious. Sam smiled awkwardly at him confirming. The older Winchester rolled his eyes, “And what exactly am I a carrier for?”

“Well, to put it in, uh, American action movie terms, you’ll be carrying a bomb, I light the fuse, then you toss it in and boom, the rupture should heal itself.” Rowena brought her hands in a circulation motion to act out the boom as she continued. “You’ll be unprotected. No salt circles and all manner of angry spirits will be right up your grill. But we all know you are more than capable of handling that all.” She smiled at the end.

“And the angel comes with me.” Belphegor requested, grinning at everyone.

Castiel was taken back by this request as he glared at the demon boy. “Why?”

“I want protection. I’m sorry, but I’m not going down to Hell and getting past all those pissed off ghosts and demons that are maybe loitering down there, and sounding the Crook all by myself.” The demon fussed as Castiel rolled his eyes. The angel did not want to work at all with the demon that much was clear.

And here was Y/N’s chance. “I’ll go.” She volunteered.

Dean’s initial instincts wanted to stop her, but before he could say something, Castiel beat him to it.

“Absolutely not, Y/N. You are not going into hell.” The angel insisted very firmly.

The older Winchester was surprised by Cas’s sudden disagreement. He had taken notice of the angel’s a bit more protective actions towards Y/N lately, as witnessed earlier when Cas teamed up with Rowena for Y/N to stay behind, which was odd to him. However, Dean also knew Y/N very well and had an idea of what she had planned in mind. She had volunteered herself the same way he had planned too before she had shut him down. Their shared idea to make sure that the demon stayed in hell once it was closed. Just like Jack had stated to her. And so, despite every fiber of him wanting to go against her and agree with Cas, he knew that if it wasn’t him going down with the demon boy, she’d be the next best choice to make sure that happened.

It was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes as she looked over at Belphegor, “You said you need protection. I’m the next best fighting machine after the Winchesters. Human fighting machine, of course. So will I do?”

The demon stayed silent as he considered her offer. From watching the demon in thought, Y/N couldn’t help but think he would refuse, until he didn’t. “Okay, that works too.”

Cas opened his mouth, about to dispute, but was interrupted.

“She’s right. She’s the next best hunter after me. ” Dean added, showing that he was okay with this plan, for once. He looked at his brother as he shrugged and smiled. “Sorry Sam.”

Sam glared at his brother’s comment but also knew that it might’ve been true. Y/N was just as reckless, stubborn, and self-sacrificing as Dean. She also did end up almost breaking Dean’s nose when they had first met her way back in the day.

Turning back to look over at Castiel, Y/N couldn’t understand why the angel seemed to be so against her joining again. “Cas, if you have a problem with me going then you’ll just have to come along too.”

The look on the angel’s face was a mixture of disgust, disappointment, and defeat. Again, just like when she had asked him to tag along and part with Jack’s dead body to head to Harlan in the first place, Cas agreed to join her. “Well, it sounds like I don’t have a choice.” The angel couldn’t help but sarcastically comment.

“Go team.” Dean cheered in a fake tone.

With the Crook plan settled, the next step was to find a spot close enough to the rupture for Rowena to do her spell. As the group arrived back on the same grounds the majority of them once stood only a few days ago, it still surprised them to see the walking dead wandering around aimlessly. There had been some bodies that they had disassembled before that were now not moving. Of course, as the group got closer to the rupture, the amount of undead increased. Each of the wandering souls that had inhabited a dead body seemed to be in their own little world, which was good a thing in a way. The problem was that there were a lot of them and they didn’t want a repeat of last time.

“So, see any spots to do this spell of yours?” Y/N asked walking beside the witch. They had managed to walk past the undead without creating another huge battle so far. There were some that brushed against them and then reacted by trying to attack them, to which they took out quickly. Instead of the dead body continuing to live, once it was disassembled the spirit seemed to have left and gone elsewhere leaving an empty dead corpse.

Rowena stepped forward in front of the group as her eyes scanned the surroundings. It then landed on a crypt, very near the rupture. “Ah, that will do.” The witched pointed out. And of course, the crypt she pointed out was an area completely surrounded by the undead.

“Great. Of course, it’s surrounded by them!” Dean complained.

Before another complaint could be thrown out, Belphegor made his way to the front of the group as he began mumbling words. It sounded like a spell. Within moments, there was a burst of energy that left the demon’s body as it enlarged and passed through all the undead. All the possessed dead corpse immediately fell to the ground. The demon brushed his hands together as if he had finished cleaning, which technically he kind of did. “That should take care of them for now. Let’s head to that crypt.” He pointed onward with a grin.

Dean and Y/N looked over at each other as they mentally agreed that Belphegor had been holding back on them this whole time.

Next: Part Nine coming soon!

If you want to be tagged in this series, please leave a comment or message me! Feedback welcome!

FDEIB Tag: (If I missed anyone, please let me know! I’ve been MIA for a while Dx)

@leahslovelylibrary // @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce // @polina-93 // @deanwinchestersmydaddy // @witch-of-letters // @rainflowermoon // @rainflowermoonlibrary // @carryon-doctor-lock // @jxackles // @livelovelaug-h

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #spn fanfic #family dont end in blood #Jack Kline #dean winchester #belphegor

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drkcnry67 · 4 years

Text

title: good doggy

pairing: Sam x reader

rating: pg

H&H square filled: Hellhounds

Dark square filled: Hallucinations

tags: reader death, hallucinations, hellhounds, blood, despair, hopelessness, triggering agony

word count

summery: not telling

created for @spndarkbingo & @heavenandhellbingo

the hallucinations started a while ago, your mind would wander, create illusions that often frightened you to the point of your boyfriend not being able to sleep cause he had to be the strong one.

he didnt know what was happening to you, you hadnt told him... but you had made a deal... and now it was coming due...

in the coming weeks following when it started you tried to be as normal as possible, being a hunter didnt normally leave room for alot of normality, but you made due.

you were not scared of what was to come, you were not scared of dying or going to hell, you knew that Sam would never let you go if he knew.

Sam your loving boyfriend knew you were not dumb enough to make a deal.. but you had made this one the night you lost your brother... you got to say good bye to him and in exchange you had 10 years to live your life to the fullest extent.

The love of your life now standing beside you waiting for the mark to arrive, you guys were on a hunt hunting what you guys thought was a werewolf...

Being out hunting with Sam was one of your favorite things to do.

Sam: "are you okay? You seem a little quiet."

YN: "Sam I'm afraid I've been lying to you... I lied about how I got my start in hunting."

Sam: "babe whatever it is I'm sure it's not that bad."

YN: "I lost my brother a week in 10 years ago, when we were hunting a demon, he got possessed unfortunately the exorcism didn't help, my brother was already dead when the demon left his body. I made a crossroads deal a few hours later to be able to say goodbye to my brother one more time. I have only a week left before the hell hounds come for me my 10 years are almost up."

Sam: "what the fuck!? YN why the hell would you not tell me about this? We could have helped you figure something out..."

YN: "what could we have done Sam!? There is nothing that we could have done... I've tried... I've talked to even the likes of ruby... Even she can't do squat..."

Sam: "I have no idea what you think does or does not work... Don't even think for a second that I'm gonna let you die especially by hell hound it's not happening. I've watched Dean go through that and that was enough for me... I'm not gonna let you go through that..."

YN: "it's too late I made my bed, now I have t..."

Sam was all up in your grill immediately... He was in your face his hands on your biceps, gripping tight enough to leave bruising.

Sam: "don't you dare say the rest of that sentance. Look okay we will figure something out... I promise..."

You looked into those eyes of familiarity and felt despair drown you in seconds. All you wanted was to be held and spend the last days of your living life with the man who made your heart soar, but instead you were now standing alone on the sidewalk while Sam continued on the hunt alone.

of all days to come out with the truth did it have to be today... things were going so well then all of the sudden you opened your big mouth and now not so much... you went back to the motel room, you knew Sam would return eventually but you had no idea when that would be..

that night more hallucinations hit.. the sound of howls filled the air and now you felt more alone than not... you saw a number of things but the howls that sounded close but not were what scared you the most...

you called Sam’s cell but no answer... you were scared to close your eyes.. you knew that the images would still haunt you...

so you sealed the entrance with goober dust as well as the windows and whatever else could be used as an entrance and ended up just downing an entire bottle of tequila before passing out...

you woke to gunshots, you were sweating, it had been several hours, but you went to peer out the window to find Dean outside the motel room shooting something... you opened the window carefully not to remove the dust...

Dean: “YN stay back these things wants to collect you...”

YN: “so let them... i have made my peace with this... let them take me..”

you were just about to move the dust when Sam ran up and shot at the things... sam then made eye contact with you...

Sam: “YN are you crazy... dont give up so quickly...”

YN: “i know you will find a way to bring me back... just dont quit on what we have... i love you... both of you...”

you then removed the dust from the window and stood back... you held your arms wide open ready to accept your fate... the sweet release of the burden you released to your love was lifted and death came quickly.

the hellhounds and the reaper disappeared soon after you were torn to shreds. Sam and Dean made their way forcefully inside the hotel room... kneeling at your sides their anger levels running high...

Sam: “i swear to you YN... if you do not wake up right now baby you have all the power in the universe at your finger tips... you are the most badass half-celestial i have ever had the pleasure of knowing... i love you YN and if you dont wake up now i have no idea what we will be forced to do...”

thats when the entire room shook... your body started glowing... Dean and Sam went to seal the windows and door... as your body floated and your eyes suddenly opened and a shockwave of light went out through the room...

#spndarkbingo #heaven and hell bingo

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writtenbyrosey · 4 years

Text

Why I Think Steven Is Making Himself Into A Monster While Blaming It On His Gem

I’m going to start by talking a lot about Pink Diamond.

Yes, yes. We all know that-

...Right. That she’s gone.

But.. with everything that’s been happening during Steven Universe FEAR, I can’t help but think back to 3 Gems and a Baby, Change Your Mind, and the movie.

Here’s what I think’s goin on...

In Three Gems and a Baby, Garnet Amythest and Pearl each had different theories in regards to who or what Steven was.

Amythest thought Pink was simply shapeshifting into Steven, Steven merely being a disguise and Pink pretending to be Steven. Garnet thought Steven was a fusion between Greg and Pink, also assuming that Pink was aware and that she was only remaining fused as Steven as to not be rude to Greg.

But Pearl’s theory is what’s been bothering me lately...

We know that in a way, all three of them are correct.

That in order to even carry a fetus, Pink must have shape-shifted a womb inside her body so that she could properly incubate a child with Greg’s DNA. In order to mimic DNA that could ‘fuse’ with Greg’s, I speculate that she became one with the fetus upon his birth somehow. I’m guessing that once Steven no longer resided in her shapeshifted womb, where a child’s normal umbilical cord would be, that was also a shapeshifted part of herself. She used that cord to connect Steven to her gem, not to provide him with food (although she probably HAD to eat organic food so that Steven’s organic body could grow), but to provide his developing anatomy with her own ‘data’ so that the child would absorb aspects of herself.

Once Steven was born, the shapeshifted illusion of what allowed Pink to be an individual while he grew would no longer be enough to keep him alive. This explains why she had to give up her physical form. This is where Pearl’s theory takes effect. During his birth, she had to poof so that her gem would always be able to provide Steven with half of what makes him whole. I couldn’t really see properly in ‘Growing Pains’, but I don't think Steven had a heartbeat at all! That would make sense because, without Pink’s gem, he wouldn’t be able to exist in the first place.

So all that being said, I believe Pink’s gem DID hold her consciousness while Steven developed his own. Remember what Pink said in her video to Steven.

“Steven, we can’t both exist. I’m going to become half of you. And I need you to know that every moment you love being yourself, that’s me, loving you and loving being you. Because you’re going to be something extraordinary. You’re going to be a human being. Take care of them, Steven.”

(This sentence is important and I'm going to mention it for another point later on: And I need you to know that every moment you love being yourself, that’s me, loving you and loving being you.”)

If gems are computers, their ‘soul’ would be equivalent to a user’s files where their data would be stored, and the FOLDER that data is stored on would be the physical GEM. When Pink became Rose, nothing was changed in terms of her soul or her files, so it would be the equivalent of just renaming that folder something else. That is what pure shapeshifting would be in this case.

When Steven was conceived, Pink preparedly provided a shapeshifted female human reproductive system, which like the rest of her abilities, was powered by her Gem. When uh.. ermm... pink diamond’s file was edited with a sort of... ‘unrecognized genetic coding’ (I didn’t want to straight-up say Greg’s jizz lol) those files would begin to dramatically alter as Steven developed his own consciousness. So once Steven was born and began to experience life (ie: develop his first memories, learn skills like talking, develop likes and dislikes) every new development in Steven’s brain, every ORGANIC development from his human side began to OVERWRITE Pink diamonds files. It’s like when your computer begins to run out of file space, out of memory, what does it do to make space?

It deletes old files.

Going off of this logic, by the time Change Your Mind aired, Pink, or to make this simpler we’ll just say Pink’s gem, had existed as half of Steven for 14+ years. I think it would be the equivalent of two users sharing a computer. Whenever Steven was running low on memory, Pink very willingly began to purposely and consciously delete parts of what made her well... her. So that Steven could be anyone he wanted to be.

Her words in that video: “-Every moment you love being yourself, that’s me, loving you and loving being you. Because you’re going to be something extraordinary. You’re going to be a human being.”

Now I’m gonna be real with ya’ll. I believe that Pink AT THE BEGINNING wanted Steven for a selfish reason. Put down your pitch forks okay?? I said at the beginning! Originally, YEAH. She DID want an escape. She DID want to avoid taking responsibility for all her mistakes! I believe from when Steven was a newborn until he was like 7 or 8 probably, Pink was FULLY aware, she was FULLY herself and COMPLETELY feeling/seeing everything Steven could. She was literally an AUDIENCE member in Steven’s mind, watching and experiencing THROUGH him what it was like to BE him. Like a demon possessing a person, but not trying to control them in any way. Just.. squatting. Chilling in there and sharing in everything Steven felt or saw without him even realizing.

ONLY MAYBE did she make her presence known through relevant dreams now and again, when her memories were stirred by what Steven was living.

ANYWAY like I said, I think it started this way. But I believe just like Steven has done for every other damn character in this fantastic show, Pink changed because of her experience being him. And let me ask all of you this.

Would the OLD SELFISH SPINEL ABANDONING BISMUTH BUBBLING PEARL DUMPING GREG ABANDONING FALSE PROMISE INSTILLING CONDESCENDING PINK WE KNOW, WILLINGLY allow herself to slowly and completely fade away from existence, just to give this weird human gem hybrid experiment she created his own identity?

No.

But the Pink that spent almost a decade in the shoes of (thanks to Greg’s intense empathy soaked parenting) the most selfless, kind and innocent child? The Pink that FELT how good Steven felt when he helped others? Would THAT Pink just take away the life she’d given to him, just because if she didn’t she would cease to exist?

Obviously not. I mean..

GUYS. Can you IMAGINE how HORRIBLE it would be to SLOWLY, memory by fucking memory, erase yourself? Like it’d probably be painful, confusing, just day by day slowly forgetting who you are, who you knew, your friends, your memories, your IDENTITY, your CONTROL! OH MY GOD WHAT WAS MORE IMPORTANT TO PINK THAN CONTROL?? Nothing! That’s all she wanted! That’s all she was after! Control over her own life! Freedom! Being able to change! To GROW!

And yet.. she gave ALL OF THAT UP so that Steven could be who he is.

And the proof of that is 100% at this moment when White rips Pink’s gem OUT of Steven, and when it forms without him, all that’s left is the SHADOWS, the ECHO of who she used to be once upon a time. Because that gem is like 1% Pink, 99% Steven.

Without Steven, her gem is aimless, purposeless, devoid of ANY emotion or personality. It has ONE GOAL. To become Steven. The only part of Pink that may have been aware from within Pink Steven, that teeny tiny sliver of her data that might have remained. All it wanted was to be Steven.

THAT would have been an amazing place for the series to end, at least for the sake of Steven’s identity crisis. When he saw his gem half, he was so relieved to not see his mother. Because his whole life he was struggling with NOT BEING HIS MOTHER. He FINALLY FIGURED OUT that HE IS HIS OWWWWNNNNN PERSON!

YAY!

...

And then THIS shit happened.

UGH. That rejuvenation... It RUINED EVERYTHING for him.

We know from the movie that it set back all of the gems to factory settings. To their default. It completely wiped their memories!

The movie insinuated that it set Steven back to when he was a kid, and that he regained his abilities when he regained his sense of how he grew and changed from that helpless kid with no powers..

But is that all there is to it? A lot of people bring up the possibility that Pink Diamond was reset from within Steven, that she’s trying to get out from the inside of him, hence everything going on with his body in SUF. The enlarging of his body makes some people think that Pink diamond doesn’t recognize Steven, is somehow completely aware that she is trapped within him, and that she is fighting for freedom etc.

I don't think that’s it at all.

I think the rejuvenator did more than what the movie concluded, but I don’t agree with the pink diamond is corrupting steven from the inside out theories. Not at all.

If Pink Diamond and Steven were still sharing his gem, just like I had speculated before, in his early development, if they were struck with the rejuvenator THEN? Yeah. Then I’d think there was some merit to the “Pink is trying to escape Steven’s fleshy prison” theories. But what happened during Change Your Mind, that completely convinced me that if not 100%, then at least 98-99% of Pink’s data has been overwritten with Steven’s data. Resetting a computer would NOT restore data that has been overwritten.

Therefore, I think Pink Diamond has absolutely NOTHING to do with Steven’s corruption. He is 100% corrupting because of his own mentality, because of his gem reacting to puberty charged testosterone mixing with the cortisol surging through him due to his untreated PTSD.

Think about it.

What happens when you take a hormonal teenager and cross it with a shell-shocked war veteran who’s been having an identity crisis since he was ten?

Well. You get Steven.

I think the rejuvenator erased everything he was able to realize at the end of Change Your Mind. It took away his sense of self. At the end of that episode, after he fused with his gem half, he said “It’s me. I’ve always been... me.”

I find it very suspicious that each gem struggled with memory loss, not only as Steven acknowledged in the movie, that he forgot ‘how much he’d changed’ and that he ‘was capable’. He also forgot AND HAS YET TO REMEMBER that he is himself. He may have inherited his gem from his mother, and with that comes her IMMENSE powers and abilities. But that’s all. Maybe that, and a tiny teeny ghost of a sliver of how much she loves him.

BUT REMEMBER THAT LINE I SAID I’D BRING BACK FROM HER TAPE??

“every moment you love being yourself, that’s me, loving you and loving being you.”

Hey, guys? Does Steven still love being himself?

Or did he forget the very reason why he once did?

That’s why he’s physically beginning to look like his mother. Because that is who he is blaming for all of his self-hate. Because he looks at his gem and these stress-related painful changes and BLAMES his mother, as if she is somehow currently punishing him, trying to force him to become her.

But it’s ALL in his head.

He hates himself because, thanks to the rejuvenator, he’s forgotten the reason why he loves himself. He hasn’t remembered because he doesn’t realize that’s what his problem is! He was sent back to thinking he still is his mom.

He gets these flashbacks, these moments where his gem is struggling to remember why he is allowed to love being himself, only remembering the pain of his gem being ripped out and the fear it causes prevents him from remembering anything after that. I’d be shocked if he remembered what his gem turned into once he was separated. It’s not like anyone ever mentioned it again? Or brought it up to him. He hasn't been ASKED.

So because he forgot, he’s just left with this emptiness. With this horrible gaping question of “Who am I?”

And he tried all the unhealthy ways of coping. #relatable

-Controlling others lives so he could feel a sense of control over himself (Little Homeschool/Guidance)

-Replacing the idea of his mother with something new / forcing himself to be okay with the idea of his mother and faking a normal family context around her (Rosebuds)

-Fixing unfixable problems so he could feel like he doesn’t need to be fixed (Volleyball)

-Justifying his own paranoia by projecting it onto other unrelated situations, only to second guess his originally correct intuition about a malicious individual, and then figure out he was right in the first place. Instead of confirming to himself that he has decent intuition, he doubles down on deciding not to trust the advice of others. Also begins focusing on the constant presence of threats, as if he will never be safe.(Bluebird)

-Burns himself out from throwing himself into activities that keep him busy, even though he doesn't really feel passionate about those activities anymore, because instead of doing little homeschool cuz he enjoys it, all he wants is the resulting approval from others. he does. whatever anyone asks him to resulting in exhaustion and feeling like a failure, all in an attempt to feel like he is needed in order to emulate a form of love he cannot give himself. (very special episode/In Dreams)

-Misinterprets the gems concern and nostalgia cravings because of insecurities in which he feels like the others want him to be someone he's not and becomes resentful for not being respected for ‘who he is’, even though he won't admit that he doesn't actually even know who he is (because he doesn't fucking remember!!) (Snow Day)

-Feels like he’s being personally victimized and abandoned when his friends begin to move on without him to pursue their own dreams and ambitions, and allows that resentment to build while lying and saying he doesn’t blame them for leaving him behind. (Little Graduation/Prickly Pair)

-He focuses on what he can’t relate to when it comes to the human side of life that he feels he's been robbed of. Proceeds to try to solve this and everything mentioned before by running away and becoming someone else (Stevonnie) with no regard for how Connie would feel as an individual (Kinda sounds like what his mom and Greg did - the thing he was super pissed at them for. Ahhh projection and lack of self-awareness in teenagers is staggering) (Bismuth casual / together forever / growing pains / Mr. universe)

-Completely gives into his rage as an outlet, but allows it to overtake him. Having immense power + PTSD induced cortisol + Rage + Puberty charged testosterone = a very dead cheeto puff. Steven does something horrible that he himself said was something “a crystal gem would never do” and as far as we know, is something his own supposedly HORRIBLE mother didn’t even do. So he forces himself to believe he's not only done something a diamond would do, but by seeing the diamonds, he realizes that the diamonds are actually bettering themselves and trying to make up for the crimes they committed, while Steven thinks there's no way he could ever make up for what he did, even if he was able to bring Jasper back. Hits rock bottom. (Fragments / Homeworld Bound)

Shattering a gem betrays who Steven is at his core, and even if he remembers who he is and that he IS his own person, now he has no choice but to believe, at least according to his own morals, that he’s an even worse person than every single individual he had been resenting/judging.

This isn’t Human Steven VS Gem Steven.

This isn’t Pink Diamond trying to take back her gem.

This is Steven hating himself and making himself suffer. This is Steven never asking for help out of fear that he might somehow destroy the happy ending that he helped everyone else achieve. This is Steven forgetting who he is and failing to realize that he can’t do everything on his own, that he can’t fix everything, and that he can’t make it through life without letting people help him when he needs it.

This is Steven believing that he doesn’t deserve to be happy.

I anxiously anticipate this Friday, and I hope that all the people who love him can save him before he destroys himself.

This is and will always be one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

#steven universe future #steven universe future spoilers #spoilers #steven universe #steven universe spoilers #steven universe theory #spinel #pink diamond #steven universe movie #steven universe change your mind #steven universe movie spoilers

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cryptidkieren · 5 years

Text

come around (3/6)

waddup guys!! this one took forever but its 4000 WORDS so i hope that explains my absence :)

ao3 link

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“What about this one, angel?”

Aziraphale looked up from the soft yellow cardigan he was holding, people scurrying around them with their own shopping. He wished he hadn’t.

Crowley held aloft a maroon sweatshirt with what looked to be a drawing of Jesus… sneezing into his elbow?

“I don’t get it.”

The mischievous smirk on the demon’s face instantly disappeared. The bustle of the shopping center around them seem to grow louder in the silence that hung between the two supernatural beings. “What d'you mean, you don't get it?”

“I mean,” Aziaphale wrinkled his nose as he neatly folded the cardigan back into place, turning back to face his companion. “That I don’t know why a sweater of Jesus Christ sneezing is an appropriate gift for the son of Satan.”

Crowley, for whatever reason, seemed to be absolutely baffled. “I- What- Sneezing? For all the bloody-”

The angel stifled a laugh and plucked the sweatshirt out of the sputtering demon’s hands. He hummed as he looked it over, inspecting it for any mistakes in the stitching, as Crowley attempted to pull himself together.

Just as Crowley opened his mouth, most likely to criticize him for still culturally living in the 19th century, Aziraphale interrupted with a cheery “Actually, I think we should get it!” The angel quickly placed the garment into their basket as he watched, looking positively bewildered.

Aziraphale chuckled at Crowley’s expression; he was a bit of a bastard, after all.

“I cannot believe you, angel,” Crowley sighed, rubbing his temples rather vigorously as they continued their hunt through the department store. The angel only smiled serenely in response.

The festive season onslaught was in full swing by that point, people rushing about trying to finish up their Christmas shopping and attempting to dodge the snowdrifts that had piled up throughout the previous days. Loud, cheery holiday music blared in every store, while vendors on the sidewalk sold hot chocolate and warm pretzels to passersby.

It was Aziraphale’s favorite time of year, and Crowley’s least.

While the angel adored the general sense of goodwill and cheer that permeated the air during the holiday season, Crowley always saw it as more work. Every year without fail, Hell expected him to tempt and irritate humans more and more than the previous year.

He also hated Christmas music with the passion of a dying star.

The two unearthly beings had been through numerous shops in downtown London that day, trying to find the perfect gifts for their human friends. They wanted to do it the “proper way,” or Aziraphale wanted to, at least, since they had never bothered to before.

They had been in their current store for around 15 minutes, Crowley picking up joke gifts with all the seriousness of a clown while the angel reprimanded him fondly. At one point, the demon had eyed an over-the-top festive ugly sweater with growing mischief. Aziraphale only shook his head and steered him away, knowing the sweater would end up in Anathema’s pile of gifts at some point.

The angel perused the selection of sketchbooks the shop was selling, noting with a touch of disdain the ones made to look like antique tomes, as Crowley trailed behind him. He paused, however, when he saw something that caught his eye. It was a glittery notebook with a curly-headed dog on the front. The dog was sitting happily, tongue lolled out in a canine grin. It wore a black collar with a skull and crossbones, a human skull resting at its feet. ‘Bad to the Bone’ curled around the image in a pretty cursive script.

“I think you’d like this one, Crowley!”

The distinct lack of a sarcastic response made Aziraphale pause, turning to see what could have distracted his companion so thoroughly from him.

“Crowley?”

Crowley, however, was nowhere in sight.

Scanning the immediate area revealed nothing as to where the demon could have gotten off to. Dread steadily crept up Aziraphale’s spine as he dropped the notebook and quickly headed to the front door of the shop.

It seemed that the temperature had dropped since he had last been outside, the wind whipping snow around his ankles and blowing flakes down the stark road. The streets had emptied as the hour grew later, leaving Aziraphale alone on the sidewalk, with only the parked Bentley to keep him company. The angel stood there, freezing and panicked, torn on which direction to start searching.

A noise from the alley next to the shop caught his attention. It was a sort of wet sound, like slicing through meat, accompanied by what sounded like a muffled cry of pain. Vicious laughter followed, a sound that was as familiar as it was horrifying.

Of course the angel followed it.

What he found made Aziraphale’s blood boil and his Grace to erupt out of him in incandescent waves of light, violently enough that it almost discorporated his human body.

There was Crowley, tossed into the snow and bleeding from a large gash on his chest. His glasses lay broken by his feet, a cut across his nose oozing dark blood down his face. A bloodied hand was raised in front of him, as if to shield himself from an incoming blow.

The demon looked terrified. He looked as if he knew he was moments from death.

Above him stood Hastur and a squat, mean looking demon unknown to Aziraphale. Hastur looked as grotesque as ever, though both demons had curled in on themselves in fear as the angel’s fury reached them.

One of Hastur’s arms was covered in what looked to be a thick latex glove that reached his elbow, not unlike the ones used to handle dangerous chemicals. His protected hand held a golden dagger that radiated a soft white light, undimmed by the black ichor dripping off the blade. Aziraphale felt his breath falter for a moment.

He knew that weapon. It belonged to Uriel, though it hadn’t been wielded in millennia.

He also knew it was made of the best celestial steel Heaven could offer.

Celestial steel that, of course, could destroy demons permanently, as it was forged using holy water.

Aziraphale felt the tenuous control on his anger snap. His wings exploded out behind him, white feathers swirling with the untouched snow by their feet. They spanned so large that they completely blocked the entrance to the alley, making the glow of his Grace even more blinding in the dim light. When he spoke, it was as if a thousand other voices echoed his words.

“Hastur, Duke of Hell, how came you by this Heavenly blade?”

The two standing demons were quick to cower away from him. After a moment, Hastur dared to sneer up at the enraged angel.

“It was a gift, from the Archangels Gabriel and Uriel. They only allowed my possession of it for killing the demon Crowley and,” the demon paused then, straightening a bit when nothing happened to him. He licked his lips, a disgusting smile stealing its way onto his face. The demon next to him seemed to have gained confidence along with Hastur, grinning maliciously up at the angel.

“And they were hoping that by killing your boyfriend, you would go running back into their arms like a child. I believe they planned to make an example of you, Heavenly scum.” Hastur laughed wickedly, along with his little cronie.

While the two demons laughed themselves silly, Aziraphale stole a glance at Crowley, who was still sprawled in the quickly blackening snow. He was pale, a hand clutching at his bloody chest, while his golden eyes were wide in fear and… awe? He must’ve hit his head on something, because that couldn’t be right.

“Silence!” Aziraphale’s voice boomed around them, immediately putting an end to the two demons’ merriment. They were back to looking petrified, at least. “You forget yourself, Duke of Hell. One angel can destroy twenty demons without a thought. What could a Principality do?”

“Y-You can’t!” cried the undersized demon, wagging a trembling finger at the angel. Hastur was frantically trying to quiet him. “We have o-orders from Lord Beelzebub themself! The demon C-Crowley must die!”

With that, the demon ripped the celestial blade from Hastur’s grip. Aziraphale watched in frozen horror as he screamed, the skin of his palm already steaming and bubbling from coming into direct contact with an object from Heaven.

The angel snapped out of it when the demon raised a trembling arm above Crowley, poised to strike a killing blow. Time seemed to slow to a stop around them as Crowley’s life hung in the balance.

“NO!!”

A blinding flash of light and a bang that seemed to shake the very Earth. Uriel’s blade clattered to the pavement, a smouldering pile of black ash where the short demon previously was. Aziraphale’s outstretched hand (when did that get there?) trembled in the air. His breath wheezed out of him as he realized what he had done.

In all his many years, the angel had never killed anything, let alone destroy something so completely-

‘He was going to kill Crowley.’

And just like that, all of his guilt slipped away like water down a riverbed. His breathing evened out and his arm stopped wavering, dropping back to his side with a sense of finality.

Hastur, who had started screaming incoherently when he saw what had become of his partner (again), snapped his attention back to the suddenly calm angel. He looked even more terrified than before, and rightly so.

Aziraphale slowly approached the demon, who frantically tried to get away. Miraculously, his feet appeared to have been stuck fast to the ground, making his escape impossible. The angel rose himself the few inches difference between them to stare directly into Hastur’s soulless black eyes. His own were reflected back at him, burning an otherworldly blue.

The demon twitched as the angel’s Grace enveloped him completely, forcing little choked off sounds of pain from his throat. Aziraphale gripped Hastur’s white blond hair in a tight fist, burning the side of his face where they came into contact.

“You’ll tell everyone down there that no one shall harm what is mine. I am the angel who walked through Hellfire and never Fell, so please think before you act against me.” Aziraphale pulled Hastur closer, making the demon cry out in agony as the angel’s wrist pressed more firmly to his cheekbone. “Do you understand me, Duke of Hell? If any future suffering comes to Crowley from Hell, I’ll hunt you down first.”

“I do!” he croaked, squirming to get away from Aziraphale. The skin where they connected was bubbling up, smoke rising from the prolonged exposure. “I’ll tell them! I swear!”

“Good.” With that, he released the grip he had on Hastur, flicking his fingers to unstick his feet. The demon scrambled away from him, disappearing not a moment later.

Aziraphale floated softly back to firmer ground as he reigned in his Grace and wings, releasing a noisy breath. A pained whimper from the gutter had him scrambling towards Crowley, ignoring the sharp sting of falling so quickly to his knees on cement. The edge of panic that had kept its place in the back of his mind finally took control, making his hands shake with adrenaline and fear.

“Crowley- Oh-” The angels hands fluttered over the still bleeding wound. “Let me-”

“No,” Crowley rasped, coughing wetly to the side. A few drops of black blood stained the previously untouched snow. He caught both of the angel’s hands firmly in his own. “No, Aziraphale, don’t heal me like that. I wouldn’t survive it.”

Aziraphale was bewildered. The demon had never denied a healing opportunity from him before. Then again, nothing the angel had ever healed for him had been this serious. “What- What do you mean? I’ve healed you plenty before!”

The demon grinned up at him tiredly, white teeth stained black. “Your Grace, angel, it would kill me. It’s t-too big of a wound-” He turned to cough again, blood spilling over his lips.

His resolve hardened then. Aziraphale quickly hooked his arms under the demon, ignoring his weak protests, and gently lifted him into his arms. “Fine, but we’re not staying here. They could come back at any moment.”

“Wh-” Crowley swallowed thickly, his arms wrapped limply around the angel’s neck. “What a-about the sword?”

Aziraphale glanced at Uriel’s blade, still laying on the ground. The hilt had fallen into the ashes of the demon he killed, smearing them into the creases of the ancient binding around it. They would probably never come out, since miracles couldn’t work on Heavenly objects.

“I’m afraid I have to set you back down for this, darling,” Aziraphale said regretfully. He wanted nothing more than to run away right then, get as far away from that alley as possible with Crowley. But he had to send the blade back to its owner, lest it fall into the wrong hands. Again.

He also wanted to send a message, granted it was a nonverbal one.

“No no, it’s fine, I’ll just bleed q-quietly over here, n-no trouble,” the demon snarked as he was gently set to lean against one of the walls of the alley. Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly before getting to work.

Using the fallen demon’s ashes, Aziraphale quickly sketched out a messy sigil on a cleared area of the ground. It was reminiscent of the communicating sigil he drew all those months ago, with a few minor details switched around. Instead of being able to send messages, it would allow the celestial dagger to be sent straight to Uriel and whoever else was with her.

Sort of like a Heavenly mail chute.

The blade disappeared in a flash of light and the ash drawn circle blew away, leaving nothing behind but Crowley’s blood in the snow.

Aziraphale quickly gathered his demon (yes, his demon, God damn it; he had made his intentions perfectly clear, just then) and fled to the Bentley.

He only prayed no other forces were after them that day.

-----

Getting Crowley back to his flat was difficult, as any sharp turns the angel made caused him to groan in misery from the back seat. Aziraphale had never driven a day in his life, either, so that made the panic in his chest double as the speedometer steadily rose.

They screeched to a stop in front of Crowley’s stark building, the smell of burning rubber following them up the front steps. Aziraphale made it so no one would pay any attention to them in the lobby, because what was another miracle at that point?

The lift ride to Crowley’s floor seemed to go on for eternity. The demon had refused to lean against the wall for support, instead choosing to cling to Aziraphale as they rose through the building. The angel tried to ignore the wetness seeping through his shirt and jacket as he gripped Crowley closer to him.

When the lift stopped, the small jolt forcing a pained gasp out of the demon, Aziraphale quickly got them into the dark flat. He gently led the demon back to the bedroom, knowing that the unused couch in the living area was as uncomfortable as it was expensive.

“There we go, that’s a dear,” the angel muttered mindlessly, trying his best not to hurt Crowley further as he was set onto the soft mattress. He stared at the demon, fretting on how to help him, when he heard a breathless laugh.

“Calm down, angel,” Crowley said as he smiled up at him, exhausted golden eyes half lidded. “I-I’ll be alright. Don’t worry your p-pretty head about it.”

Aziraphale glared at him, snapping his fingers loudly to miracle away the demon’s unsaveable shirt and jacket. “I will not ‘calm down,’ Crowley! They sliced you open!”

“Alright,” the demon breathed, his eyebrows attempting to join his hairline. “Alright, Aziraphale, it’s o-okay. I’m okay, thanks to you.” He took one of the angel’s hands into his own, so gently that the angel almost started crying right then.

He sniffed instead, swallowing his tears back as he held onto the demon’s hand. “I-I have to help you, my dear. You’ll bleed out if I don’t do something about this, and then you’ll be discorporated.” The angel pushed back Crowley’s disheveled hair from his forehead, keeping his touch light, trying not to startle him with the affectionate gesture.

Crowley, however, appeared to have stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes wide and astonished. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Aziraphale blinked, surprised at how easy it was. Usually, the demon fought him every inch of the way when it came to healing him.

“Yeah, do your thing, angel,” the demon said, smiling weakly as a touch of redness crept onto his cheeks. “I trust you.”

Aziraphale felt as if his heart was going to burst. Not wasting any more time, he held his hands over Crowley’s mangled chest and called for his Grace to heal him. He was so absorbed already in what he was doing that when Crowley screamed bloody murder, the angel fell onto his arse.

Scrambling back to his feet, he hovered over the demon, not touching him but trying to help nonetheless. “A-Are you-”

“Keep going!” Crowley grunted and reached for those fluttering hands. “You can’t s-stop, Aziraphale, or it hurts more.”

The angel nodded briskly, readying himself before allowing his Grace out once more. The demon started screaming again instantly. His back arched to a painful looking height as the muscles and tendons knit themselves back together, his blood flowing backwards into his body.

It only took a moment, but it felt like it lasted for an age. When the open wound looked no worse than a shallow cut, Aziraphale retreated so quickly his back hit the far wall, the glow of his Grace dimming to nothing. Crowley dropped back to the bed like a puppet with its strings cut, panting and trembling minutely.

The angel felt his heart shatter, knowing he had to do it, but not liking it one bit. “C-Crowley?”

It took a moment, but the demon eventually answered. He sounded wretched, like he had been tortured for days instead of being healed. “Yeah?”

“Can I- Is it-”

A sigh and a flopped arm interrupted his babbling. “Just get over here, angel.”

Aziraphale let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Double checking that all of his Grace was firmly tucked back into himself, he quickly approached Crowley. The demon was sweating heavily, his golden eyes had a hazy sheen over them, and he was still bleeding from another slice on his arm.

But he was alive. Aziraphale hadn’t killed him, his body hadn’t discorporated, he was alive-

“Hey hey, angel, it’s alright, everything’s okay,” Crowley said gently, if a bit anxious. The demon reached up to gently wipe at one of his cheeks. “There’s no need to cry, love, I’m fine.”

Aziraphale realised then that the tears had finally escaped as all the adrenaline in his system lessened. He sobbed with his next breath, holding the demon’s hand to his cheek. The angel fixed him with a stern, if watery, glare. “Never do that again, Crowley. I mean it.”

The demon chuckled weakly. “I swear I won’t allow Hastur and whatever goon he’s toting about get the drop on me again.” His thumb brushed against Aziraphale’s cheek, catching the tear there. The angel smiled at him, feeling so soft and full of love for this man- demon- being, he was surprised Crowley himself didn’t feel it.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Aziraphale gently took the demon’s hand off his cheek. “Oh look at me, you’re the one who’s injured and yet you’re still consoling me for being overemotional.”

Crowley smirked up at him, looking fond. “Well, what else would you have me do, angel? Let you cry all over me like a tissue?”

The angel snorted, rather inelegantly, as he scrubbed at his damp face. “You menace. I assume you keep a medical box somewhere?”

“Now why in the bloody Heaven would I do that?” Crowley raised an eyebrow at him, his smirk growing wider. “I’m a demon, Aziraphale, I can just wish my injuries away.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the dramatics. With a snap of his fingers, a fully stocked medical kit sat next to the demon’s hip. “You’ll have to sit up for this one, my dear.”

He helped Crowley up to rest against the headboard, the fluffy pillows almost swallowing him whole. The angel climbed onto the bed beside him, getting comfortable and opening up the first aid kit.

He tried to make quick work of stitching up Crowley’s arm, knowing the demon hated needles. He was interrupted, though, when Crowley made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m almost done, my dear,” Aziraphale hummed. In truth he was only halfway through the cut, going slower than he usually would to prevent as much bleeding as possible.

“What? No, that’s fine, wasn’t even thinking of it,” The demon huffed, looking to steel himself against whatever he wanted to say. The words came tumbling out anyway. “Back in the alley, what- what did you mean by ‘no one will harm what’s yours?’”

The angel paused, his heartbeat kicking up a couple notches as he scrambled to find something, anything to say. Embarrassment made his cheeks flush hotly, keeping his focus on his work as the demon tried to catch his eyes. “I- Well, I think I rather told them what I think when I chose you a-and humanity over Heaven. Earth is ours, and humanity has us to protect it against- well, against everything else.”

Aziraphale risked a peek at Crowley. He looked pensive, his bloody face making him seem like a real demon. The angel jumped slightly when he was caught staring at the demon. Crowley smirked at him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, he seemed... Well. It was like he had accepted something, though the angel couldn't fathom what.

“Let’s hope we’re a bit more competent on that front, eh?”

Aziraphale chuckled weakly as he turned back to his task. He made short work of the last few stitches before running off to the kitchen to get a bowl of water. Crowley still looked like a bloodbath, after all.

The demon slid down the sheets to lay fully on the matress once more. He didn’t seem to mind the constant touching as Aziraphale carefully cleaned and wrapped his wounds.

He did hiss halfheartedly, though, when Aziraphale was accidentally too rough on his split nose.

“Sorry,” the angel cringed, prodding gently at the cut. He carefully stuck a plaster on it, just to be safe. “It doesn’t seem like it’s broken, so there’s one upside.”

“Praise be,” Crowley deadpanned. His tired smirk drooped a bit at the edges, but it was there nonetheless. The sight made Aziraphale shake his head affectionately, his chest growing tight once more.

The angel sat back when he was finished patching up anything hurt on his companion. “That should do it, then.”

Crowley hummed softly in acknowledgement, his eyes already closed. Aziraphale stared down at him, a quick flash of horror tearing through him as he thought of how close the demon had come to death. A warm hand on his knee quickly brought him back to reality.

“R'lax, angel,” Crowley slurred. He hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes, the hand thrown on Aziraphale’s knee now slowly moving back and forth. It was quite soothing, honestly.

“Sleep now, darling, you’re exhausted. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“F’got how scary you were. Still beau’ful, though,” Crowley muttered as he shifted about, getting comfortable. Of course, the angel immediately flushed to the tips of his ears.

“Wh-What was that, my dear?”

When all the demon said in response was a soft hum, his hand stilling, Azirphale let out a heavy sigh.

The angel risked a chance to run his own hand through Crowley’s fiery hair, smoothing it away from his steadily bruising face. He continued when the demon didn’t stir, effectively petting him at that point.

Though the angel himself was exhausted, for the first time in a few centuries, he refused to lie down beside Crowley (no matter how much he longed to).

Aziraphale took the remaining scraps of courage still within him and sat guard. He would wait, either for Crowley to wake or for the forces of Heaven and Hell to come for them. Either way, he would wait.

Nothing would harm Crowley ever again, not if Aziraphale had anything to say about it.

-----

[beginning] // [previous chapter] // [next chapter]

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #anthony janthony crowley #aj crowley #a.z. fell #im writin #fic: come around #in progress #aziraphale/crowley #5+1 fic #5+1 things

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 5 years

Text

OT3FIC: Dobberman

20 - tongue discourage lopsided gift execute tiny rose shame

Her tongue peeked out the corner of her lip as she shifted slightly in her car seat, shades over her eyes and the stirring itch to get outside and stretch her legs that she could not give in to. This case had been bothering her for weeks, the pattern erratic and strange and mostly based off of disappearances and memory loss rather than any bloody bodies or signs of other such problems. Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, Jo gave a deep sigh as she settled in to stake it out longer.

She had already been watching for two nights and thus far no extra disappearances and no leads. Sitting in her car she’d set up a camera with display, angled just right from her vantage point behind the bouncer, to check for the glowing eyes of shapeshifters and also tracking on the mirror above all of the arrivals to check for sirens. She had nailed an iron boundary over the doorway and the windows of all the buildings exits just before dawn that very morning to track if any demons or ghost possessions or shadows for that matter were behind it and to keep them getting back in. And she had even painted the external walls the day before with invisible angel wards just to make sure it wasn’t her favorite archangel-Trickster up to games. But so far, no such luck on cracking the case.

Jo gave another soft sigh, the quiet voice of some late night radio host babbling to himself as if there was someone else there echoed out of her stereo as she continued to glance between her camera and the line that was forming at the doorway.

It wasn’t for another hour, an hour of boring music, lame dad jokes and some kid calling to complain about the boring music, right as the lack of movement was almost enough to discourage her after three days of no signs that this might not actually be one of her cases despite what her gut told her for her to spot it.

Twisting the keys out of the ignition and throwing them into her pocket, Jo looked each way along the road before dashing across in a gap in traffic and striding carefully but quickly along the footpath behind the bouncer right as the man was about to okay the newest arrival with the four very beautiful women along his arms. The very same four very beautiful women that hadn’t been seen or heard of from their families in over four weeks that she’d known in her stomach were not just runaways or on holidays somewhere.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” She hissed from behind the group as they were about to pass through the doorway. As the man in the center appeared to freeze at her voice, and his shoulders almost appeared to shake whether in amusement or like a duck shaking very annoying water from it’s back she couldn’t tell, before he attempted to step over into the club and was unable to press forward with an almost awkward stumble. “Or, maybe more like, I couldn’t do that if I were you.”

That time there was another of those shakes before the man turned to the bouncer and hissed quietly, “You didn’t see any of us.” He turned fully around, delivering the same hissed Whisper towards the lot of the assembled crowd nearest the door while those a few feet down just yelled loudly about ‘fucking line-jumpers’.

Jo waited a second before stepping back and a handful of feet back away from the line and the bouncer as the rest of the late night revellers continued in their normal behavior, a lopsided grin on her face in the knowledge that her instincts were right for a moment before the four women all started walking in a straight line past her and down the nearby alleyway to the side of the club. That wiped the look right off, and forgetting all about exactly who it was she’d been talking to, Jo set off after the quartet of women, calling “Hey! Wait!”

“They aren’t going to answer you, sweetie.” The voice was right beside her as she made her way into the alley - spotting the group of women huddling in a dark corner like hens nesting in a roost. Looking to the side, Jo raised an eyebrow back at him curiously. “They’re following instructions. I make sure they know what to do if things go wrong when I let them out of the house.”

“The what now? The house?!” “Yes, house, sweetie. They have to live somewhere.” “Since when do you have a fuckin’ house?!”

The man gave a laugh at that, shifting to lean against the dark bricks of the building side a few feet in from the corner, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a click of his fingers. Gray draw a breath in and released a puff of smoke at her, her hand waving it away with a small cough and a scowl, before he shrugged a shoulder. “I overheard some guys talking about some..movie? Documentary? Something? Anyway-” The shadow took another drag, and gestured towards her with it questioningly as Jo didn’t move closer, only continuing once she’d shifted to stand in front of him out of the sight of those passing the alley way without really looking for her. “-They were talking about this guy who was some big-shot or other. Had a house full of beautiful women on hand for anything he wanted, you see? Gave me an idea, why keep going out to find good lays when I can just keep them all crowded up for when I want one.”

Jo felt herself frowning in confusion for a moment, before her eyes widened and she reached out to smack at his arm in an automatic response, letting out an outraged noise. “The R Kelly documentary?! You have taken inspiration from the R Kelly documentary to get yourself a house full of-” Her eyes widened further, twisting to look down at the huddle of gorgeous women all dressed exactly to the shadow’s liking and standing silently together as a group with their eyes closed as if ‘powered down’ and waiting their next direction. “-of.. of...”

“Gorgeous women. Yes, I believe I have.” Gray’s lips curled up into a smirk as he looked down at her, the look widening as she smacked at his arm again ineffectively and glared up at him. “You humans really do keep giving us monsters a run for our money, you know. And that idea? Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth when I can complete it much more effectively than some little human with cash to splash.”

“God, you’re fuckin’ disgusting, did you know that?” Jo growled the words out towards him, shaking her head as if to try to shake the idea from it before she froze. “Well, I guess it’s better in a way than your torturin’ and killin’ them-”

“Oh no, I have a group for that too.” “For fucks sake, Gray! Stop making this so much worse.” “Sweetie, I can’t let you go about thinking I’ve lost my touch. Of course I have the ugly ones or the ones that don’t please me well enough for that.”

“Absolutely disgustin’.” She shook her head again, leaning back against the bricks with a heavy sigh and ran a hand through her hair with a groan. This had been such a hard hunt, it had taken her serious effort to execute properly and cover all bases, she was even somewhat impressed with herself for just how good her sigil work and the idea to iron the entries where the owners would never find it was complete genius. And for it all to be wasted on it being this asshole with his goddamn smirk and his fucking suits and his cigarette that he held out towards her and Jo tugging from his fingers and breathed in like a drowning man trying to settle the frustration and adrenaline that was racing through her with the soft hug of nicotine. “I can’t believe you’d do that-”

“What? Say I got the idea from there and not from you, you mean?” “Fuckin’ what?” “I mean, if you want to get technical sweetie, I got the first thought of the idea from you-” “What the fuck you mean by that?!”

“Setting up that tiny little house of yours? With your two little sex boys there to do your bidding at the crook of your finger?” Gray replied over her head, that infernal smirk fully still in place as he reached out to light himself another cigarette as Jo glanced up towards him - the butt resting between her lips as they curled in disgust at the suggestion. “I always figured the runt couldn’t possibly keep you satisfied, so your taking on another was inevitable-”

“You shut up about that.” “Why? Don’t like the truth, sweetie? Face it, you’ve always been flighty and it was only a matter of time until you went for more.” “And how exactly is that what happened at all?” “Oh trust me, I’m as surprised as you are that the runt’s fallen in line so well. You’re much better at that then that-”

“Don’t.” Jo cut over the other warningly, and at the twist of how his tone shifted from teasing to what she could tell was tight and uncomfortable as his brain caught up with what he was saying, she leaned her shoulders to the side, bumping against his gently.

There was a long pause between them, the silence of those in the alley covered by the rise and fall of the crowd around the corner’s noise, before the shadow seemed to catch himself and rose off of the side of the building with a sneer. “But still, credit where credit’s due, sweetie, you showed it’s a good idea to keep toys on hand for such fun-”

“You know that’s not even remotely accurate, you asshole.” Jo bit back, dragging the last of the cigarette before squatting down to set it to the ground and stamping it out with her boot, glare in place as she tried to keep the flush of shame that threatened to run through her just in case there was any truth to the shadow’s suggestions. “Look, just... how long until whatever you’ve done runs out for those girls?”

“What do you mean?” “How long until your Whisperin’ fades?” “What’s that matter? It’s not like you’re going to be able to do anything-”

Jo shifted straight upwards and off the wall then, her hand pulling the iron knife out of her boot, and pointed at the other threateningly. She knew from the raised brow on his face and the amused quirk of his lip that he knew that it was as likely to go into him as it was she would suddenly begin tap dancing; but even then, Jo shot a lot behind herself towards the huddled group of girls and then back to him with a raised brow of her own.

“Sweetie, why do you always do this?” “Cause, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t. Now - the Whispering?” “What makes you think I’m going to let you just scurry off with them?”

“Easy,” Jo’s lips quirked up in a smile in response as she flipped her knife about, giving a small shrug. “Because, you’re goin’ to get bored of that set up in no time and havin’ to keep feeding and washing and Whispering the lot of them. How’s all the chewing they do been to watch?”

Jo bit down on a laugh watching the way that the monster’s shoulders shuddered again, and there was a pause when she thought that she may have used the wrong play before the next moment there was a quirk of his lips into that godforsaken smirk and his own cigarette butted out under his foot. He shrugged a shoulder, as if rolling the phantom disgust away, before waving a hand. “Maybe you’ve struck something there, sweetie. It has been rather... limiting to my fun.”

“You don’t like limitations-” “Are you trying to propose something there?” “God no!” “You sure? Two men enough for you? Does the new one scratch that little ...itch of yours?”

“Why? You want to join my tiny little house?” Jo teased back as she heard the tone moving in the other’s own voice to the same just shy of flirtatious way her own had, before she let out a laugh at the disgusted look that crossed his face at the concept. Another shudder, and Jo let out another laugh, bright and light, before the shadow pinned her with a look. Holding up her hands, and the knife pointed upright away from him in her hand, Jo smirked back at him. “Okay, fine. But still-”

“Fine, sweetie, you keep that knife in your boot and I’ll leave you to shepherding those lost little girls home. I can’t imagine your new little dog is any happier with his mistress being gone than the runt is.” Gray replied with a roll of his eyes as he gave a wicked grin at her. The next second he was gone, and Jo barely had time to roll her own until the smack on her ass surprised her and the same voice whispered against her ear, “Just this time though. Next time, I’ll want something in return.”

Jo turned to strike out at him in a knee-jerk reaction, but by the time her knife was passing through where he had been there was nothing but air and the fading sound of a laugh.

Sighing to herself, Jo rubbed at the spot that still stung slightly before she shrugged her shoulders, slipped her knife back into her boot, and then turned to move towards the gaggle of girls with a groan as she had to work out the best way to wake them back up and get them home safe and sound.

#ot3 grey/jo/will fic #jopov

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legion1993 · 5 years

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Good Doggy

title: good doggy

pairing: Sam x reader

rating: pg

H&H square filled: Hellhounds

Dark square filled: Hallucinations

tags: reader death, hallucinations, hellhounds, blood, despair, hopelessness, triggering agony

word count

summery: not telling

created for @spndarkbingo & @heavenandhellbingo

h&H masterlist dark masterlist

the hallucinations started a while ago, your mind would wander, create illusions that often frightened you to the point of your boyfriend not being able to sleep cause he had to be the strong one.

he didnt know what was happening to you, you hadnt told him... but you had made a deal... and now it was coming due...

in the coming weeks following when it started you tried to be as normal as possible, being a hunter didnt normally leave room for alot of normality, but you made due.

you were not scared of what was to come, you were not scared of dying or going to hell, you knew that Sam would never let you go if he knew.

The love of your life now standing beside you waiting for the mark to arrive, you guys were on a hunt hunting what you guys thought was a werewolf...

Being out hunting with Sam was one of your favorite things to do.

Sam: "are you okay? You seem a little quiet."

YN: "Sam I'm afraid I've been lying to you... I lied about how I got my start in hunting."

Sam: "babe whatever it is I'm sure it's not that bad."

Sam: "what the fuck!? YN why the hell would you not tell me about this? We could have helped you figure something out..."

YN: "what could we have done Sam!? There is nothing that we could have done... I've tried... I've talked to even the likes of ruby... Even she can't do squat..."

YN: "it's too late I made my bed, now I have t..."

Sam was all up in your grill immediately... He was in your face his hands on your biceps, gripping tight enough to leave bruising.

Sam: "don't you dare say the rest of that sentance. Look okay we will figure something out... I promise..."

you called Sam’s cell but no answer... you were scared to close your eyes.. you knew that the images would still haunt you...

so you sealed the entrance with goober dust as well as the windows and whatever else could be used as an entrance and ended up just downing an entire bottle of tequila before passing out...

Dean: “YN stay back these things wants to collect you...”

YN: “so let them... i have made my peace with this... let them take me..”

you were just about to move the dust when Sam ran up and shot at the things... sam then made eye contact with you...

Sam: “YN are you crazy... dont give up so quickly...”

YN: “i know you will find a way to bring me back... just dont quit on what we have... i love you... both of you...”

the hellhounds and the reaper disappeared soon after you were torn to shreds. Sam and Dean made their way forcefully inside the hotel room... kneeling at your sides their anger levels running high...

#spndarkbingo #heaven and hell bingo

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1000roughdrafts · 6 years

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Live and Let Die

Summary: After years of arguing with your older brothers, they finally let you go out and hunt on your own, but it was nothing like what you expected. After killing your first demon, you call them up for some comfort.

A/N: I started working on something else, but this one kind of took flight so let me know what you think! Written for @spnsongchallengebingo

Warnings: blood, depiction of Supernatural type violence, guilty!reader, comforting Winchester brothers <3

Parings: none, general Characters: Dean, Sam, Sister!Reader (no wincest - just wholesome brotherly/sisterly love)

Word Count: 2,037

Square Filled: Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney & Wings

It was certainly too early to be getting a phone call from anyone, Dean was sure of that. He rustled around in bed and waved his hand around the nightstand for his phone. Putting it to his ear and hearing your voice was enough to tell him something was wrong. You’d been missing for weeks with no word. His eyes opened wide and he shot up in bed, throwing his legs over the side and putting all of his attention on you. “Where are you?” He growled.

“I - I don’t know,” you whimpered. “I’m somewhere near our old house, I think, in Kansas. I don’t know how I got here,” you bit your lip to keep from crying. You could hear the uncertainty and fear in your brothers voice, and didn’t want your tears to make it any worse for him. “My phone should give you my location, right? Now that it’s on. I need to get myself somewhere - somewhere safer,” you took a sharp breath. “Just find me, please. I’m-” you paused, looking down at the torn clothing on your body and scanned for wounds underneath the thick, wet red that tainted your outfit. You couldn’t tell him about the blood.

“Stay where you are!” Dean grunted while jogging out of his room and scanning the hallways for Sam. “We’re gonna be right there, okay?” He said more gently before hanging up the phone and running to Sam’s room. “Come on, Sam,” he whispered. “Please be here,” he said to himself. He peered into the room and flipped the light on.

Sam’s bed was made up and the rest of the room was as tidy as usual. Dean groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket again with more irritable sighs before heading out into the kitchen. With the phone up to his ear, his heart was pounding heavily in his chest, “where the Hell are you?” he growled as Sam’s voicemail played.

The clanking of the bunkers door was heard in the distance, and Dean ran towards it. Sam patted at his face with a small cloth as he coasted down the stairs, “damn it, Sam! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I was running,” he sighed.

Dean threw his arms out at him, running back to his room to get jeans on and a bag of weapons. Sam followed closely behind, “what’s going on?”

“I told you we shouldn’t have let Y/N hunt on her own, yet!” Dean shouted, throwing the bag over his back.

“What?” Sam felt his own heart rate stirring in his chest, his steps quickened. “Where is she? Is she okay?” He said in rapid fire, watching Dean briskly leave his room.

“No, she’s not okay, Sam,” Dean snorted after turning to face Sam. He put a gun in his waist band, “we need to go find her. Are you ready?”

“Uh,” Sam looked down at his running attire, assuming it would be fine for now and there’d be no point in wasting the time to change. “Yeah.”

The drive was silent, save for the angry spurts of “what does it say now?” from Dean about your location. Pulling down a dark neighborhood street, they saw a figure sitting on the curb. Your hair was in a bun, but strands were strewn about and they could see a darker tint to it. Dean pressed even harder on the gas pedal, and screeched to a stop in front of you.

You stayed in a squat, with your head resting in your hands. You were far too exhausted to move, or look at who was approaching you. Dean jumped out of the car the second he put it in park and ran to you. He gripped onto your arms and pulled you up to your feet.

“Ow!” You shouted as he gripped tightly onto your arms. Sam was right behind him to inspect the blood that covered your body. “Dean, why are you holding me so hard?” You whined. He loosened his grip just slightly and your brothers held your arms above your head to inspect for deadly wounds.

“Guys!” You cried out in anger, finally breaking the barrier for the tears to fall down. “It’s not my blood! I’m fine,” you stuttered out.

Sam flipped his body around to look at the houses that surrounded you, holding a gun in his hand as he looked for suspects. Dean kept a hand firm on your arm as he pulled holy water from his back pocket and squirted it onto your face as Sam whispered the exorcism.

You glared your eyes at Dean and spit the water back onto his face, “I’m not possessed, assholes. Please,” you whined again. “I just want to get out of these damn clothes.” You were unsure of whether the salty taste in your mouth was the holy water or tears, but it didn’t matter at that point. You brothers were finally there to save you and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with them and forget about hunting forever.

Without saying a word, Dean kept his hand on your arm while Sam gripped onto the other, bringing you to the Impala. They continued to scan the street as you walked with them. Sam sat with you in the back seat while Dean put the car in gear to turn around in one of the driveways.

They asked you questions along the way, but you couldn’t hear much over the ringing in your ears. You stayed silent, staring out of the window to recall as much of the last few weeks as you could, specifically the night before. You killed someone that night. Sure, that someone was possessed by a demon that was about to kill you, but in that moment you literally had their blood on your hands... and on your face, in your hair and on your body.

Getting to the bunker, you kept quiet as your brothers gave you a towel and a set of clothes to wear. They pointed you in the direction of the bathroom and gave you time to get yourself cleaned up. You looked at your naked body in the mirror of the bathroom, trying to avoid your eyes. Your hair was tangled up at the top of your head and dripping blood onto your shoulders.

The heat of the shower fogged up the mirror and when you stepped inside you closed your eyes. The muscles in your calves and thighs started to quiver, forcing you to drop to your knees. Tears rushed down your face and cloaked themselves among the dark water that collected around your legs. You covered your mouth, trying to stifle the screams your body was trying to force out of you. Everything would have been so simple if you didn’t beg your brothers to let you hunt.

Just a few months ago, you were going to college and doing the normal things like studying for tests or going to parties and now you’d just killed someone for the first time. With your free hand you clutched onto your side in an attempt to catch your breath and relax the muscles in your stomach. Your failed attempt at calming yourself caused you to hyperventilate, swallowing some of the water as you did so.

You spit out what you could, tilting your head back and trying to brush the water out of your face. Slowly, you started to breathe normally again and with weak arms massaged the soap and water form your hair until the water was clear. Standing up, you scrubbed your body and turned off the faucet. As you wrapped the towel around yourself, there was a knock on the door. “Hey, Y/N,” Dean said with a muffled voice, “you okay?”

You cleared your throat, rubbing the water from your body and hair, “yeah, be right out.” You put on the set of clothes that your brother gave you and weakly made your way out of the bathroom. Dean was just outside of the door to guide you into the dining area.

Dean pulled three beers from the fridge and a piece of pie, setting one of the beers and pie in front of you. He pulled a chair back and sat close to you. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re here,” he said patting your leg and setting a fork down on the plate. “Uh, pie always makes me feel better, so-”

You smiled at him, “thanks, Dean.” You brought your eyes to Sam’s and then back at Dean. Both of your brothers were looking at you with the same eyes they had when they told you the truth about your parents. “I don’t deserve this pie, though,” you sighed, pushing it across the table.

“Why would you say that?” Dean leaned closer to you, putting a hand on your thigh.

You looked up at him, “I killed someone today.”

His eyes went wide, and his hand tensed around your thigh. Sam scooted the chair a tad closer to you before taking a drink of his beer. With a fuzzy voice, he speaks out, “okay,” he said before clearing his throat and turning his eyes to Dean. “Were they, uh- were they hurting you?”

“He was possessed, but-” you took a deep breath as Dean let out a long sigh of relief, “there was still a person in there. There was a person behind those black eyes and the evil and the throwing me around. I should have tried to exorcise, but-” you looked up at Dean. His eyes glued to you, “I only had that knife Sam gave me and he was on top of me.” More tears started to fall, and you looked back over at Sam. “I wasn’t prepared for this at all.”

Dean put his hands around you, more gently that time and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry into his shoulder. Sam moved over to the chair closest to you and rubbed his hand up and down your back while playing with your hair. They let you calm a bit before speaking again.

“Y/N,” Dean said. “When you were little, you used to say ‘live and let live’,” he chuckled. “But darlin’, the way this world is now, with all of the evil - when it makes you want to cry and give up, maybe you gotta live and let die.”

You pulled yourself out of his shoulder and looked between your brothers, scrunching your face at the euphemism, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, you went down this hunting path and if it’s truly what you want to do, you gotta buck up and realize that not all of it is going to end the way you want it to. There’s gonna be a lot of pain, blood, brutality, and tears, but when you got a job to do,” he trailed off. “Sometimes you gotta decide who’s life is more important; yours or the Joe Schmo that was stupid enough to get possessed by a demon.”

“Dean,” Sam scrutinized in a low voice.

Dean’s eyes shot over to Sam’s as he used his face to shrug, “I’m just being honest here. What we do is good. We help people, and sometimes - unfortunately- that means sacrifice is in order.” He pulled you closer to him, “but Y/N, you’re a tough cookie. I know that you’re strong enough to overcome this. I may not have been there to see it, but you did what you had to do to save yourself and that makes you a warrior.”

You pulled your head out to look into his eyes, “you really mean that?”

He tilted his head slightly at you, “would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

You cracked a small smile, leaning back onto him, “okay, but I’m not leaving you guys again. I don’t think I could do this by myself, yet. I thought I could, but-” the memory of the bloodied vessel the demon possessed flashed in your mind, sending electrical regret down your body.

You shuddered in Dean’s arms, burrowing your head deeper into his chest. “Maybe for now I’ll just do research,” you say in a muffled voice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept or eaten, and in that moment you felt safe enough to let your eyes shut and carry you off into a dream as Dean rubbed your back and held you tightly in his arms.

Forever <3 @fangirl490

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themoonandotherslikeit · 5 years

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The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 24

*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-Four, No One Ever Told You

Ella

About sixteen years later

"Truth." I stared at my father in front of me. My favorite person in the world. My rock. He’s a liar. "You owe me that much."

He pulled up the chair from my vanity and turned it so he sat with his legs on either side of the back of the chair. "There's a lot I need to say."

"I'll say."

He frowned, wringing his hands.

"Dad, this letter," I said gesturing to it. "What is she talking about?"

"I should probably start from the beginning,” he said meeting my eyes. "Get comfortable."

I lowered myself back into my bed in a seated position, surrounded by the photos and papers I'd been over examining for the last two days while he'd been gone. "Okay."

"I met your mom on a case."

"She was a hunter?"

"No." He laughed, shaking his head. "She was a detective. A good one. Which made her pretty invaluable to us. She was the niece of your great uncle Bobby, who we already knew. He was like a second father to Sam and I. He would bail us out of jams all the time. This time he was pretending to be our superior officer in the FBI, and she recognized his voice."

"She caught you in a lie."

"Hell yeah she did. She was a spit fire." He met my eyes. "Just like you. Always gettin her nose into something."

I smiled a bit. "You do the same thing."

He shrugged. "Probably. Anyway we worked the case, and even when we told her to stay away... she wouldn't. She ended up getting hurt." His eyes dropped to the letter. "That's when I knew I wouldn't be able to live seeing her hurt. I didn't want her to come with me. I worried if she did she would get hurt."

"Let me guess," I began, finding myself engrossed. "She didn't take no for an answer."

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. "You're exactly right. Sam didn't help, he wanted her to come. If I was being real, I wanted her to come, too. Somehow I knew I'd be better off with her. Just wish I would've seen that she wouldn't be better off with me." He sighed, rubbing his face, the letter crinkling in his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"She went on the road with Sammy and I. I couldn't fight it, ya know? I fell in love with her. She was a great hunter, saved my skin multiple times. She was so beautiful, and we had something between us, something we couldn't fight. We split up for almost a month, but even then we couldn't stay apart. She wasn't just another woman, El. She was my soulmate. Hell, she still is."

I got up and walked to him, squatting to look in his eyes. "Why did she tell you no when you asked her to marry you. If she was your soulmate?"

I looked at my father. He was hurting; I could tell by the wrinkles around his eyes, by the crease on his forehead. The image of him and my mom on their wedding day was burned into my eyes. He deserved to be happy, for once he deserved to be happy, and to find joy. He deserved to not have a fucking arch angel stuck in his head.

He met my eyes. "She died."

"I know that."

"No, sweetheart. She died before that. She was possessed and... and she didn't make it. The demon told me about you. We didn't know she was pregnant and I lost it. I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose you. I wouldn't."

I frowned, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"

"I made a deal. I made a deal and I didn't tell her. She was dead in my arms. I knew both of you were gone, and I couldn't have it. I made a deal."

"A deal..." I swallowed. I didn't want to believe what he was telling me. "Not a deal, deal?"

"I sold my soul. Fuck, I didn't want you to have to know that... I never wanted you to know that. I don't regret it, though. I never did."

"But you're here..."

"Cas pulled me out, but before that I was given six months."

I covered my mouth. It was too much. "You sacrificed all of that for us?"

He reached out and he held my face. "You're my daughter. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Of course I would, and I'd do it a million times over."

"And you kept it from Mom?"

"Of course." He laughed. "I couldn't tell her. Didn't want to make her mad. Didn't want her to look at me like you're looking at me,” he said touching my nose.

"Sorry," I said quietly. "It's a lot."

"I know, baby girl."

"So what happened next?"

"I asked her to marry me." He laughed. "We were at a wedding, and she looked so beautiful. I knew I never wanted to be without her, and then... then she found out. She was angry. She was betrayed. She wrote that letter to you, and then she told me yes." He smiled. "I didn't do a lot of things right, Nel. I fucked up a lot, but I loved your mom. I loved her more than anything. You girls were my life."

He stood up, scratching his head, blinking away tears. "El... I... I want to tell you everything, but I need to do something first."

"Okay, Dad." I stood up, and he pulled me into his arms. He kissed the top of my head. I could feel his body shaking from the tears he was letting out into my hair. "There's nothing else making you sad, right? Just missing mom?"

"Right,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes. "I'll be back later. Okay?"

I nodded and watched him walk away, knowing full well that he was still lying to me.

Ava

Present

"No way." I said, bouncing Nel on my hip. "You're not leaving."

I walked to Dean and rested my hand over his heart. "We just got you back."

Dean looked from me, to Sam and Cas. "Give us a second, guys?"

They nodded and slipped out of the room. "Ava," he began, taking my hand in both of his, keeping it over his heart. "I didn't tell you... I didn't know how."

"Didn't tell me what?"

"I started this. The apocalypse. I was the first seal... so I have to finish this."

I searched his face. Every freckle. The golden flecks in his green eyes. The love of my life. "Then I'm coming with you."

"I can't let you do that."

"You're my husband, my partner. You're not letting me do anything. I'm not letting you go alone. You're not doing this without me."

He met my eyes gently. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," I said pulling him close. He wrapped his arms around Nel and I. "I'll see if Lacey will watch Nel."

Dean reached for Nel and pulled her into his arms. "Hi little one. I'm sorry I haven't been around as much as I should've." He pressed his forehead to hers. "But I have to save the world, baby girl. I have to save it for you."

—————————————-

"So you picked the OG Winchester?" Lacey asked, sipping her smoothie.

"He's my soulmate," I said simply. "Sams amazing... but Dean and I were made for each other."

"Does that mean Sam is on the market?" Lacey asked wiggling her eyebrows.

"Come on."

She laughed. "Yeah I'm kidding. Mostly."

"There's... uh... there's more."

"More? Like?"

"Like... the apocalypse." I winced, waiting for a reaction from her.

She pushed her short blonde hair behind her ear and leaned forward. "Excuse me, what?"

"Just like what you think. So I need to ask you a favor. Can you watch Nel?"

"Why?"

"Dean and I... this is our fight. We have to help."

"Help save the world?" Lacey grinned.

"Something like that."

"Well how can I say no?"

I took her hands in mind. "Thank you so much. For everything. You're a good friend."

"The greatest." She winked.

"I'm... I'm kind of worried. This is big, Lace."

"I know,” she said quietly. "Why is it up to you guys to fix it?"

I shook my head. "I guess it's a Winchester thing. Ever since I met the boys they always think it's exclusively up to them to fix everything."

"Is it?"

"This time, it might be."

I looked at my daughter, asleep in her carrier. My heart already ached at the sight of her. I didn't know how long I would be gone, and I knew it would be dangerous.

I rested my palm on her belly as it rose and fell with every breath.

"I won't let anything happen to her," Lacey promised.

"I know. I know you won't. Just... if something happens to me, or to us. If this ends badly I have to know she won't go into the system."

"Hey, don't do that shit. Okay? Y'all are Winchester's, like you said. You will be okay. You'll save the world, and be home before she even notices you're gone."

I smiled a bit. "I hope you're right."

"And if I'm wrong, I won't have lied to you, because I won't let anything happen to her." She said reaching out, putting her hand over mine on Nels stomach.

"Thank you," I said, wiping my eyes.

"In other news," she said leaning in. "How was the makeup sex? Was it amazing? He looks like it'd be amazing."

I felt my cheeks heat up. I'd never had girlfriends so I wasn't used to talking about my sex life. "Honestly, it hasn't happened yet."

"What?! Oh, sweetie," she said, standing up. "I'm starting my babysitting duties early. Go home and be with your man." She said grabbing the carrier. "I'll bring her by later."

"Thanks," I said standing up. I pulled her into a hug. "For everything."

"Don't get all emotional on me, Winchester,” she said hugging me back.

————————————————

Dean was leaned over the trunk of the Impala, organizing the weapons. He analyzed each knife to make sure it was sharp. He counted the bottles of holy water and the bullets. He restocked the salt and oiled the guns. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead.

"Hey," I said, approaching him.

"Hey back," he mumbled, not looking up at me.

"Hey," I said, again, touching his shoulder.

He turned to look at me, and I caught him in a kiss, tasting the sweat on his upper lip. He dropped whatever he was holding into the trunk, and he wrapped his arms around me. He pressed his palm to my lower back to hold me pressed against him. His oily hands were probably leaving handprints on my yellow dress, but I didn't care.

I ran my fingers along his scalp and down his neck. His eyelashes fluttered against my face as he sucked on my bottom lip, running his tongue along it. I groaned into his mouth and met his tongue with mine.

"Ava,” he groaned into my mouth, letting his warm breath roll over my lips.

I bit down on his bottom lip, and he winced yanking me closer with force. We pressed so hard against each other, that it became physically impossible for us to be any closer than we were.

He grabbed ahold of my bare thighs and picked me up with one arm. He gripped my thigh in his hand, his callouses scraping against the skin of my inner thigh. I wrapped my legs around his waist, hiking his shirt up.

I scooted closer, pressing against the naked space on his stomach where his shirt was raised. His mouth opened slightly in shock as he realized that I wasn't wearing any panties. I smiled against his mouth and pulled him even closer.

He walked us around the car, his mouth never leaving mine as he threw the back door open. He lowered me into the backseat so I was laying on my back and he was hovering over me. He reached back and pulled his shirt over his head.

I ran my fingers over his chest, trying to memorize the way he looked. He was beautiful. The scar from where Castiel pulled him out of Hell was fading, but still there. I reached up and kissed it gently.

"You're something else, Sweetheart," he murmured, looking down at me. His cheeks were flushed and I could feel his pulse under my lips as I brushed them against his neck.

"Don't call me Sweetheart." I smiled, propping myself up. I undid each button that ran down the middle of my dress, exposing my naked body under it.

His green eyes widened as they looked over every inch of me. "Christ."

I smiled and shrugged out of the dress.

He ran his fingers along my body shaking his head. "How did I get so lucky?"

"The same way I did," I said pulling his face to mine. "I don't want to spend another day without having you."

"Me neither."

"Then take me, damn it," I said, not used to having to ask. Dean wasn't exactly delicate, but he had changed since he was back. Since he admitted what he'd done.

"Yes mam,” he whispered, unbuttoning his pants.

He slid out of his jeans and hovered over me. It was just us in the universe. Us, and the Impala, like we had our own bubble. Even with my sweaty back sticking to the leather, and the car fogging up with our breath. I couldn't have imagined it better. I'd never had a man that knew every inch of me, from the inside out. Dean knew me, and I knew him. We rolled over the edge together, panting, with our heads pressed together. He lingered inside of me for a few minutes of quiet. A few minutes of us being one, before he pulled out and rested his face on my stomach.

"Are you on the pill?" He asked quietly.

"What?"

"Because if not, I definitely just got you pregnant."

I laughed and swatted his shoulder. "Dean Winchester! Don't ruin the moment!"

He smiled up at me cheekily, his eyes half closed lazily. I ran my fingers through his messy hair. He needed a hair cut. "I couldn't ruin it it I wanted too,” he said slowly placing kisses under my breasts. "Plus, I loved you pregnant. I wouldn't mind another baby."

"Easy for you to say," I murmured, running my fingers along his back. "You're not the one who has to get fat and sick."

"You weren't fat,” he said seriously. "You were the most beautiful woman in the world. Still are. Nothin you can do or say could change my mind."

I held his face in my hands. "You're right, you can't ruin the mood," I said pulling him back up to my mouth. "But I won't be pregnant. I am on the pill." I said kissing him softly.

"Sounds like a challenge."

Dean

About 16 years later

I stared at Ava's grave. A fucking polished stone, that's all that was left of the woman who gave me more than anything in the world. It was unfair. It was so fucking wrong.

"Hey, Ave," I said, lowering myself into a seated position. I leaned against the stone, yearning to touch her. "I remember you saying you did this with me when I was gone." I laughed. "Guess it's my turn."

"Nel is asking about you. She found all your stuff... maybe it's fucked up, but it's hard to talk about. All of it. I don't want her to have to experience it. She was so young... that was the only upside."

I shook my head.

"I wonder al the time, how things would've been different. How you would look now. If we would've had another child."

I shook my head, not bothering to fight the tears that were stinging my eyes.

"I do have another son. Not like how you would think... there's never been anyone else." I smiled sideways. "There's no one that can compare to you. You're it. There's just... this kid. Jack. He came to our responsibility, and Cas, Sam, and I are doin our best to raise him. I wish you could meet him. You'd love him. You'd know just what to say."

I laughed humorlessly. "Nel is so good with him. She's a great big sister. Oh and she's dating a girl. Real good one. They're in love." I winced. "She found love, Ave. That's all we ever wanted. She's so fucking smart... she's so much better than I am. She's everything. More than I could've dreamed. I just hope she doesn't hate me once she knows."

I pressed my palm against the headstone. "I hope you don't hate me, too."

—————

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

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sammys-happy-ending · 6 years

Text

Desaturate: Chapter III

Chapter Title: Danger

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Amnesia, Canon show level violence

Summary: The reader wakes up in a room with Sam and Dean, not having a clue who they are. Through a series of flashbacks, the reader regains her memories, savoring all of the happy moments as well as the tragic ones, as she rediscovers her love for Sam.

Bookmark this piece on Archive of Our Own.

Sam’s voice is the first thing I hear. “Baby, I love you. Promise me you’ll remember that.” I feel him squeeze my hand and graze his thumb across my skin. “I miss you baby. I need you here. Really here. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you in time to kick that demon off you. Please come back.” His voice breaks at the next sentence, “You promised me you wouldn’t leave like everyone else has.” I feel a teardrop hit the back of my hand. “Please remember, Y/N,” he whispers. I feel my heart crack for him. Not quite to the point of breaking, but his voice breaking chisels little fissures into me.

I open my eyes and study him silently. His head is down, his brown hair shielding his face from me. He holds my hand in both of his and he presses a kiss to my knuckles. I squeeze him back involuntarily.

His head snaps up and my eyes meet his. They’re red and puffy. He’s been crying or trying not to. I swallow the lump that jumps into my throat, unable to explain why I feel his pain so deeply.

I’m the first to speak. I do nothing more than whisper his name. “Sam…”

He tucks his hair behind his ear and starts to reflexively rub circles into the back of my hand with his thumb. “I’m right here.” When I flinch my hand slightly from his, his shoulders droop. He lets go of my hand and walks to the door. He pauses in the doorway, turning back to look at me. His face is barely containing his sadness. “I’ll let you rest. I’m sure you need time to think about all this.”

“Don’t go,” I say hesitantly. I blush and avert my eyes to the foot of the bed. “Why can’t I remember anything? What happened?” I’m not sure why I’m not freaking out at this point. I don’t understand why I’m not running from him, or pushing him away from me. But at this point, it doesn’t matter.

He sighs and sits back down in the chair. He looks at me for a moment that seems to last a lifetime, pleading me without words to remember.

“Why don’t I remember marrying you?” My wedding ring peers at me from my left hand in the sling.

He huffs in amusement. “You figured that out, huh?”

“It was hard not to when there’s a picture on the dresser,” I say, smirking at him.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He looks up at me. “Did you remember anything when Cas knocked you out?”

“Was that the guy with the insanely blue eyes?”

“That would be him.”

“Who is he exactly?”

“Try to remember.”

I think about the man for a moment. I gasp suddenly as every shade of brown floods my mind’s eye. The tan interior of the Impala. The mousy shade of brown hair Sam had grown out of. The beige of Castiel’s trench coat. The chocolates Sam brought me when my cramps were so bad that I couldn’t get out of bed.

I feel my eyes widening at him. “Y/N?” He asked, hopefully curious.

“I remember Sammy,” I whisper.

His eyes widen, mirroring mine at the use of his age-old nickname. “What do you remember?” His hand reaches for mine again.

“I remember how we met.”

I peeked around the corner, wanting to stay as silent as possible. We had to find Jo before these assholes got to her. I signaled to Ellen that the way was clear. I ran forward, shotgun cocked. It wouldn’t kill the sons of bitches, but it would slow them down. I peeked into the window of the house where the demon half of town was squatting. Ellen darted up to the door, opening it. I followed closely behind and covered her back. I quickly searched every room in the house, but it was empty.

“Shit,” she huffed.

“Where could they have gone?”

“I have no idea! Let’s just head back to the church.” She walked swiftly past I and I followed.

I was no hunter. Not like Ellen or Jo. I’d been best friends with Jo since preschool, and I was there when she found out her dad died. My parents had been killed just a few weeks ago. Ellen told me it was a werewolf. All of this was still surreal, a nightmare I hoped I would wake up from. But if it was real, Jo and Ellen were all I had now. They traveled around, hunting anything and everything after the roadhouse burned down. There was no way that I was going to live the rest of my life knowing that the things that go bump in the night are real. So here I was, in River Pass, Colorado, hunting about 30 demons. Fabulous.

Ellen and I had made good time getting back to the church. I saw two men, one taller than the other, walking away from us. I pointed them out to Ellen, and she said she could handle it. I tried to protest, but she gave me the look I’d known since I was a kid; she was serious and there’s nothing I could do about it. I huffed and opened the door to the church silently, stepping over the salt line.

At the bottom of the stairs, I knocked on the door. “It’s me,” I said. The door opened and one of my non-demon comrades stood on the other side of it. He looked scared and he held up a bowl of water. Holy water. I dipped my fingers in, and when they didn’t sizzle and I didn’t cry out in pain, he let me through. Before this, he had no idea the kinds of things that were out there, and this was a rude awakening to him. I squeezed his arm gently and sat down at the table next to Amanda. The poor woman was pregnant; about seven months along. I prayed that she wouldn’t go into labor at this point. Partially because I wanted the baby to be healthy, but mostly because it would be a huge pain in the ass to try and sneak a newborn baby and her recovering mother past the demons. The girl with dark hair sitting across from me handed over a bottle of water. I took it gratefully, cracking the cap open and drinking half the bottle in one go.

Ellen came down at that point, followed by the two guys I pointed out to her. They looked apprehensively at the group of us. “This is Sam and Dean. They’re hunters. Here to help,” Ellen broke the uncomfortable silence that had overtaken the basement.

Austin, carrying an assault rifle, asked them, “You guys hip to this whole demon thing?”

The shorter guy replied, “Yeah, are you?”

Roger chewed on his lip pensively. “My wife’s eyes turned black. She came at me with a brick. Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal.”

Ellen catches Sam and Dean up to speed, telling them about Rufus’s investigation of demonic omens, when the entire town went possessed, and how Jo had gotten separated from Ellen and I. We ran into the guys when we were out looking for Jo.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her,” said the shorter one.

“Either way, these people cannot just sit here. We’ve got to get them out now,” the other noted.

This is when I decided to pipe up. “Great idea, but it’s not that easy. We’ve tried. We already made a run for it once.”

Ellen made short work of introductions. “Sam, Dean, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean.” Okay. So Sam was the taller of the two. That’ll make things easier. The boys gave a curt nod.

“What happened?” Sam asked me.

“There used to be twenty of us,” Ellen said quietly. There were only 10 left, including me and Ellen.

Dean looked troubled for a moment, but regained his confidence and calculated demeanor. “Well, there’s three of us now.” He looked at me questioningly. “Four?”

“Three and a half,” I joked half-heartedly. Dean smirks.

“You don’t know what it’s like out there,” Ellen warned, “Demons are everywhere. We won’t be able to cover everybody.”

I looked at Amanda’s worried face, her tense hand on her belly.

Sam asked, “What if we give everyone guns?”

“What are you going to arm up baby bump over here?” Dean retorted.

“More salt we can fire at once, the more demons we can keep away.”

Dean glanced at Pastor. “There’s a sporting goods store we passed on Main on the way in. I bet they’ve got guns.”

Sam dropped his bag and said, “All right. You two stay. We’ll go.”

Before Ellen can bring up Jo and Rufus, Sam reassures her that they’ll bring them back if they’re out there.

Austin opened the door to let Sam and Dean out, but Dean stops Sam. “Why don’t just I go?”

“What? Alone?”

“Someone’s got to stay here and give them shotgun 101.”

“Yeah. Ellen.” Sam turned to walk upstairs, but Dean stops him again.

“It’s going to be faster if you stay and help, okay?”

“While you go get guns and salt and look for Jo and Rufus? That’s stupid.”

“I can handle it.”

Sam paused for a second, and a look of realization crossed his face. They continued to argue while I mutter to Ellen, “Are they always like this?”

“Yup.”

“Great. Who are these guys anyway?”

“They’re good hunters. Good people, but they’ve made some pretty messed up decisions along the way. You’ll see,” she told me, then called up to Sam and Dean, “Take Y/N with you. She’s not too experienced but she’s a damn good shot.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean seemed in favor of it, where Sam did not. “Alright sweetheart, let’s go,” Dean calls down to me. I grabbed my shotgun, but Ellen traded me for her revolver, and we set out.

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just-another-winchester · 7 years

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When In Rome

Chapter 1 - Death Is Only The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x wife reader

Word Count: 1776

Warnings: I’d say show level violence, lot’s of angst, reader dies.

Summary: Dean notices changes in Y/N after she’s brought back to life, slowly realizing she isn’t the same woman he fell in love with and that she’s gone bad. Will he be able to save her? Or is she lost to him?

A/N: Well here it is guys, I’ve been having so much fun writing this. I really hope it at least sort of meets your expectations. This is an early release sort of since I am still writing chapter six. I am not sure yet how many chapters there will be. My tag list for this is still wide open, as well as my ordinary tag list. You can be a part of my Dream Team, my Dean Team, or my Sam Squad. Just leave an ask. I love you all!!!

This is unbetad. All mistakes are my own. I’m releasing this early cause I need more motivation to finish. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!

FEEDBACK IS MY SUSTENANCE!!!!!

The last thing you remembered was darkness.

A surge of water flooding over you, the sound of the liquid as you sank, struggling to swim upwards and catch a breath of air.

The empty feeling that filled you, the fear as you struggled to breathe.

You kept waiting, expecting Dean to save you. Dean would always save you, he was a hero, he was your hero. But as you felt your lungs begin to burn from lack of air.

You had always said to yourself you weren’t afraid to die, but in the end, you really were terrified, the knowledge that you were leaving it all behind.

Your friends, your family… Dean. It hit you like a rock and suddenly you couldn’t hold your breath any longer. You opened your mouth to gasp for air, but your lungs flooded with the lake water, you felt your heart clench, if you weren’t in water you would feel tears slipping down your cheeks.

The last thing you remembered was darkness as your lifeforce faded away.

That was until you woke up.

You vaguely heard a voice, it was muffled, and sounded far away, but it was there.

As you returned to consciousness you thought at first that the voice might be Dean’s, but this wasn’t his voice, no… his voice was rough, and deep. This voice was softer, but still familiar.

When finally you opened your eyes you felt confused at first, you gasped in a breath of air. After what happened you had never been so thankful for something as simple as air to breathe.

“Well it’s about time.” You heard the voice, you recognized it immediately and didn’t waste a second reacting.

You turned and lunged at the demon Ruby.

You were still weak from being… dead, that the fight couldn’t even be defined as a fight. You lunged for her, but she back stepped and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pinning your arm to your back.

“Relax alright, I’m not here to hurt you.” Ruby said behind you as you seethed, a deep anger rolling through you.

You tried to turn and fight back, but her hold on you was secure.

“Oh yeah, you just brought me back to life for a cup of tea.” You said sarcastically “How the hell are you even alive!? Dean killed you.”

Ruby released her hold on you and you turned around, but didn’t fight, not yet. Why were you alive? Why did she bring you back?

“Yeah, thank him for that.” Ruby said sarcastically, “Actually, I need your help.”

You gave the dark haired demon a laugh.

“You need my help? Well honey you should have just left me dead, I don’t help demon’s.” You informed her before pushing away and heading for the nearest door.

“You don’t help Crowley?” She asked with an accusatory tone as you stopped, your shoulders stiff as you turned, “No, I don’t. Sam and Dean do.” You said, “Now if we’re done here I have a husband to get back to.” You seethed.

“If you change your mind you know where to find me!” She called.

“If I come find you, it’ll be to kill you.” you said

“I wouldn’t if i were you. There’s a perk to bringing you back... kinda means safety for me. See, I die, you die just a little spell I worked into the whole life saving thing.” She smirked

But you igored her, reaching the door and stepping outside.

You weren’t certain where you were, but you could see Ruby had been squatting in a ratty old ranch house.

If you weren’t in these circumstances, and the house was to it’s original state, you may have taken a moment to admire the building, but you had to get home. You had to get to the bunker.

You weren’t sure how long you were dead, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was not spending one more minute apart from Dean.

You had to show him you were okay.

___

The trip back to Kansas was possibly one of the most excruciatingly long journey’s ever… at least it felt like it was.

You didn’t bother calling Dean or Sam, mostly because you were afraid of their reaction, you wanted to get home and see their faces, you wanted to see Dean, to be in his arms, to feel his warmth around you.

You’d found out you were in Fort Collins, Colorado, which luckily wasn’t more than about seven hours from the Bunker. You hitchhiked for a while, took a bus, finally managed to get a train ticket.

It took about two days for you to finally get back, after the hitchhiking and the one very nice woman who gave you some money to get back home you didn’t waste a second, hoping on the next train heading even remotely close to Lebanon.

By early evening two days after you woke up you were finally home as you ran to the door.

Stepping inside the bunker again, after what happened. It felt like finally taking off your shoes after a long hike. You were so tired and sore, but returning home felt good, you felt like you could relax.

While away you discovered you’d been gone about a month, which was a relief that it was almost no time at all, although you knew to the guys it must have seemed like too long.

Your footsteps echoed as you shut the door behind you, walking to the stairs that led to the war room, beginning to walk down the stairs. Where the boys home?

Just as you wondered to yourself whether they were there or not, you saw Sam enter from one of the hallways. You had been on the bottom step as you spotted the tall man, your heart stopping as you spied a familiar and friendly face.

“Sam..” You said, relief evident in your voice, your tone soft and hopeful as you felt uncertainty bubble inside of you.

Sam shifted his gaze to meet yours, your presence clearly startling him somewhat.

His mouth fell open and you could see he was obviously surprised, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hurried forward, once he saw this Sam reached out as well and pulled you into his arms.

Sam was more than your brother-in-law. He was your best friend, you knew you could always count on him.

As he pulled you into his arms you let your head rest against his shoulder, your fingers grabbing a fistful of hair as you held onto him, the feeling of the familiarity was a comfort after what had happened.

Finally you two pulled away, Sam taking a step back to examine you, his hands still on your shoulders.

“Y/N, are you okay? What happened?” He demanded, you looked up into Sam’s soft eyes and shook your head, “I can explain later… please, Sam. Where’s Dean?” You asked eagerly,

“He went out on a beer run,” Sam answered, feeling your skin. “You’re cold, and probably hungry. C’mon, you need to sit down.” he urged, but you shook your head, gently shrugging him off.

“No, I’m okay… I just need to see my husband.” You said softly, looking at him with desperation.

Sam looked down at you, “He’ll be back soon, he left a little while ago. For right now let’s get you something to drink.” He offered, and you gave in and allowed him to direct you to the kitchen.

You took a seat at the table and Sam made you a cup of coffee with a bit of creme, just the way you liked it.

The younger Winchester brought you the coffee before sitting across from you at the table, you took the mug gratefully and let the heated ceramic warm your hands.

“Y/N… How are you here?” Sam started softly, you looked away, unsure of how to answer him.

You shook your head, licking your lips as you tried to think of an answer.

“Would you take ‘It’s complicated?’” You asked him, Sam gave you a concerned look before sighing.

“Y/N, we found you, dead… we burned your body. We don’t even know how you got out there, all we know is that you drowned. ‘It’s complicated’ is kinda a given.”

You stared down at your coffee, the dark liquid reminded you of how you died. The fear, the pain. It was nothing but darkness, and suddenly you were just back.

“I was just taking a walk.” You said, “It was such a simple thing, Dean had fallen asleep but I couldn’t, I needed to think, it was late, and I wanted to let him sleep so, I went out. I wanted to look at the crime scene again, but when I got out there… it, I-” You muttered, blinking tears from your eyes, “Did you find out what happened? What the monster was?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

Sam nodded, “Yeah, it was a ghost… a woman. She was possessing the people she blamed for her son’s death, drowning them the way her kid drowned.” Sam answered.

You thought about his answer, “Then why me?” You asked, not to Sam in particular, just, aloud in general.

Your honest opinion was that once again, you were just in the way. You figured Sam was thinking the same thing, but didn’t get a chance to voice it as you heard footsteps and turned to see Dean walking into the kitchen.

You felt your chest tighten, your fingers gripping the handle of your coffee mug as Dean noticed you.

Everything seemed to happen all at once, it was a blur of emotions, you wasted no time getting up and surging forward into Dean’s arms.

Dean placed the beers haphazardly on the counter as he caught you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as you felt Dean’s arms slowly tighten around you, the grip of his arms soothing you and easing all of your pain.

You held on for dear life, after being dead you’d felt nothing but cold, but being back in his arms is what really returned you to life.

Dean pulled back and looked down at you, taking your face in his hands, his emerald eyes studying your features as your own orbs bounced back and forth, scanning his face with joy that he was before you.

Dean’s lips met yours in an instant and you smiled against his lips, a bit of disappointment as he pulled away.

“How…” He started, but shook his head, “Ya know what, I don’t wanna know.” He said, pulling you back against his chest.

You gladly accepted the embrace, no words had been spoken to Dean yet, but you didn’t need to say anything. Everything could be explained later, right now, you just needed him to hold you.

And for just a moment things felt perfect.

Unfortunately, that moment won’t last long.

MY TAG LIST IS WIDE OPEN!!

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@akshi8278 @polina-93 @aubreystilinski

When In Rome Tag List

@my-ships-will-never-be-sank @5sosandsoph @leilagracx @bisexualdolphinthings @reddhead95 @becs-bunker @babyismyspiritanimal @aubreystilinski @neganslittlebird @ryantherandomhero

#dean x reader #spn #when in rome #dean x wife!reader #chapter one #dean winchester fanfic #reader x dean #dean fanfic #dean fic #supernatural #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #spn fic #dean x reader angst #dean x you #you x dean #dean winchester #angst

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