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#those two are very important because they’re like an angel and devil on both shoulders that don’t disappear fully ever and seem to reach all
radskull-69 · 3 months
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I have a question (For educational purposes) How would Sazz and Bozo feel about a polyamorous relationship + marriage? (Foreducationalpurposes-)
they’d be so chill with it you would wonder if these two were already in a relationship before another came (homos)
(This is basically headcanons for a poly relationship with these guys srryyy)
like, I unintentionally made these two oc’s with so much chemistry that adding a third would make the most healthiest throuple eveerrr
Surprisingly bozo would be the one to offer a three way relationship, sazz might be suave and flirty but he does not have the confidence to even ask something like that. So bozo is the wingman for everyone
sazz and bozo are basically the devil and the angel on your shoulder, sazz wants to sleep in with you, eat all the junk food you could want and anything else to indulge in your desires even if it won’t be good for the future you. He loves spoiling you
meanwhile bozo thinks for logically even if he does wanna do all those tempting things, he would be the one to wake you two up early even after all the whining and unhappy groans, he makes sure you two eat healthy and this guy does the taxes. Give this man a vacation..
sazz and bozo definitely bicker a lot, not out of jealousy but because they aren’t good at sharing. Like they know they’re loved equally there’s enough to go around, but they keep cutting into eachothers time with you.
Sometimes bozo does like to finally unwind and indulge with you two, kicking back on the sofa and watching movies together. Sazz personally likes action or sexy movies to set a mood, bozo likes animated movies or even ‘kids movies’ as sazz puts it since it reminds bozo of his early days entertaining kids
sazz would buy so many matching couple t shirts for all three of you even if they’re corny, embarrassing and inappropriate. And he somehow convinces you both to wear them in public.
if you ever want to get a pet (like a cat or dog) be ready for these two to treat it like it’s your child, sazz hates kids and bozo loves them (idk how you’d feel about kids-) so everyone compromises with a cute pet. (It’s very spoiled by both of them)
holding hands in public but you’re always the one in the middle, don’t even worry if you have to hood stuff cause they will hold it for you. You need your two hands to hold theirs! ^^
bozo would be the housewife honestly, this man takes care of y’all and cooks with a apron and everything.
I wanna say sazz has a job and supports y’all, but he lowkey be gambling or at least stealing people’s wallets to make money for everyone.
it’s why bozo keeps a secret bank account sazz doesn’t know about to pay for important shit
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nejibaby · 3 years
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The Sun
Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader
Summary: If there’s two things common between you and Icarus, they’re 1) you both tried to get too close to the sun, and 2) you’re both mortal — vulnerable and susceptible to the pain that comes with it.
This is initially intended to be the second part of Burn, but this can also be considered a standalone fic. 😊
[I also tweaked the story of Icarus and Daedalus a little bit so they can fit the One Piece universe. Hope you don’t mind.]
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: So you see I’m trying out this new writing style, but I’m not sure if it turned out how I wanted it to be. But please let me know your thoughts about it~
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Icarus.
Back when you still lived in your hometown, as a child, you have grown to like the tales of sailors who docked at your island. There’s this story about one of the first ever heard of uses of devil fruit powers.
It’s about a master craftsman named Daedalus imprisoned in some far away kingdom with his son, Icarus. With their cell up high in the castle and the ground filled with guards, there was no means to escape for an average person. But Daedalus was all sorts of things other than average; he’s a father, a genius, and a devil fruit user of the Doru Doru no Mi. And because of those, he has found a way to get out of the kingdom through something that only he can make: wings made out of candle wax.
“Don’t fly too close to the sun or else the heat will melt the wax and you’ll fall into the sea.” A fair warning from Daedalus to Icarus as he handed a pair of wings to his son, who only nodded in response.
Their escape went on without a hitch with the help of the wings. However, because of the delectable taste of freedom, the further away they had gone from the kingdom that constricted them, the more precarious Icarus got. He flew higher and higher and higher, until his wings started melting. And only when he was falling to the sea did he notice that the wings had melted off completely. Even Daedalus had noticed it too late, and all he could’ve done was lament for his son who didn’t heed his words.
“It was tragic,” the sailor once told you. But all you could ever think about back then was that Icarus was dumb. Foolish. Idiotic. Stupid. Moronic.
Why would he fly higher when he knew the risks? It just didn’t make sense. There was no rational explanation, no sensible justification for it.
But now that you’re older, you might have found a possible reason why he did what he did.
Maybe, just like you, he fell in love with the sun.
The Sun.
Icarus might have fallen in love with the sun. But who are you to judge him? The sun is bright, brilliant, warm, and enticing. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be guided by its light, to bask in its warmth, to ever so gently be caressed by its flames. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to be nearer, despite the repercussions.
You can’t call him out because you did just the same. Ace was — no — is your sun.
With his charming and boyish smile that’s always capable of cheering you up, you can mistake him as the light. He’s like the sun peeking from the clouds after a stormy day, or the sun rising after the darkest night.
In his embrace, no matter how momentary, anyone would be able to feel his care. Hell, even with his arm slung over your shoulder or his mere presence beside you, you would feel a sense of security. Because Ace is also the warmth and the comfort. Pretty much like the gentle rays of the sun enveloping you with a blanket after a cold breeze.
But you also know that like the sun, he too is dangerous. The least he can do is to burn you. And at the very worst, he could be destructive.
The Fall.
When Icarus got too close to the sun, his wings melted and naturally, he fell into the sea. There were no stories about how he felt or what was in his mind when it happened, but recently you’d like to imagine that he was content.
Falling is scary, that much is true. But falling can also be exhilarating and thrilling — it’s feeling only your weightlessness, the breathlessness, the adrenaline flowing through your blood.
You’d like to think that as Icarus fell, his thoughts were about how he did not regret what he did. In the end, he got his freedom and then he made a brave choice of going after his love. Isn’t it better to have felt the burning light than never at all? Isn’t it better to have a taste of love albeit briefly?
You’re no Icarus. You’re not a child of a genius, and you have no wings that’ll melt once you get close to your sun. But for you, the answer to these questions is yes.
You’re grateful to have experienced being by Ace’s side. You’re happy to have seen his smiles and to have heard his laughs. You’re content to have been the recipient of his sparing touches.
And as you ran with bloodied hands and injured parts after escaping from the Blackbeard Pirates, you’re pleased that it was you in this predicament and not Ace. He’s safe and it’s because of you. And despite standing face to face with death just moments ago, you’re delighted because you accomplished your mission to get information about their plans.
If there’s one thing you and Icarus should regret though, it’s being vulnerable and susceptible to pain.
The Reunion.
Icarus did not live long enough to be reunited with the sun. But you did. Your body might have been littered with scars now, but the important thing is that you survived. You’re alive, you’re healed, and you’re at peace.
And you’re back with the Whitebeard Pirates.
Whitebeard, the Division Commanders, and the former members of the Spade pirates are quick to reprimand you for your rash actions once you board the ship. You listen to their sentiments quietly, understanding the severity of your decision, but you stand by your ground, telling them you didn’t regret doing it, especially since you’ve gotten valuable information about Blackbeard. And once you’ve relayed everything to them, they all quickly let you off the hook.
All except one, of course.
You’re just about to retire to your room when Ace softly asks, “Yo, can we talk?” once you pass him by.
The sun is always so inviting. It’s capable of luring you out of whatever cave you’re hiding in. That’s the aura Ace gives off when you turn to look at him. So you nod your head and follow him to a more private area on the ship.
At this moment, you can’t help but think that the sun and the planets are bound by the laws of science. Science tells us that planets orbit around the sun because of attraction, however, they must never cross the line. This has been your mistake in the past, but now you know better. And so now you try to physically distance yourself from him.
Ace doesn’t comment on the distance. You aren’t sure if he even noticed. Instead he asks, “Why did you do it?”
You raise your brow, “We wanted information, right?”
“I was the one who should’ve been doing that. I’m his Commander. I’m the one who’s supposed to be responsible for that.”
You scoff. “It’s done now, let’s not dwell on it anymore—”
“But you could’ve died!”
“So what? Would you rather it was you? Because I don’t! If you died… if you died…” you choked back a sob. You didn’t want to think about him dying. Just the thought of it is enough to tug your heartstrings.
The sight of you softens him up right away. “Hey, hey, hey,” he tries soothing you. “I’m not gonna die.”
“You say that, but even the sun will die eventually. And I don’t want to witness that tragedy.”
This shuts Ace up. He didn’t really understand how much he matters to you until now. Seeing you crumble with just the thought of him dying makes him realize that your confession to him before the two of you parted was indeed the truth. “You’re right. I’m sorry…”
You could only bite your lip to calm yourself down.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking when you were away…” Ace murmurs. “And my thoughts were always about you.”
You gulp as your heart rate accelerates. Will he be turning you down properly this time? Give you the confirmation and closure that you need?
If you focus on your thoughts, you can hear a chant in your head: The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love. The sun will prioritize light over love.
But you reason, that’s okay. The sun is bound by the laws of science and one of its main purposes for its existence is to provide light. And you will not hold Ace back from doing that. If he doesn’t love you, it’s fine, you’ll be fine.
“I thought… you didn’t like me,” Ace says.
This statement catches your attention immediately. You’re about to object but he continues, “Because you always called me ‘Captain’ and then ‘Commander,’ and never by my name. And I thought that that was you drawing the line between us.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not good at these things,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
But you remain tense, trying to comprehend what’s happening.
Ace takes a small step toward you.
And you couldn’t help but think that if Ace gets closer, you’ll burn once again.
Yet you watch with wide eyes, not stopping him as he gets closer and closer and closer.
At this point you can only hear how wildly your heart is beating across your chest.
And when Ace raises his hand to tenderly touch your cheek, you realize: The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.
Which could only mean one thing: his focus has always been on you.
“I love you, my angel,” Ace whispers as he presses his forehead against yours. “I’m in love with you,” and he seals his admission with a kiss.
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lucemferto · 3 years
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Hey girl, don’t mind me, I just quickly went and rewrote Dream SMP Season 2.
I’m focusing on the big plot stuff from Season 2, which makes it really easy for me to make it good, because I don’t have to contend with all the hard parts like dialogue and scene pacing and stuff. As an additional challenge to myself, I try to change as little as possible. If I don’t mention stuff (like the Egg-Arc) then that means I’m fine with them the way they are.
I wrote this in an hour, so don't expect it to be good, pls.
Whether you agree or think this is trash, I'd be so interested to hear your thoughts!
ACT I
Fundy’s early arc with Ghostbur, Eret and Phil is great and should stay the way it is. It sets up the character relationships and potential for conflict that we can explore in the future.
Similarly, I wouldn’t change too much about the conflict during Exile with one exception: Both Tommy and Quackity don’t want to include Technoblade. Instead, they believe that they can take one Dream by themselves – this is important for Techno’s, Tommy’s and Quackity’s personal journey later on. In this rewrite, Quackity also didn’t found El Rapids, but instead recruited George & Sapnap to L’Manburg – because his stated goal is to make L’Manburg the strongest nation on the server, so why would he make a rival nation with a plotline that goes nowhere?
What’s also important is that it’s revealed that Dream has a spy in L’Manburg around here. Maybe Tommy confessed his burning of George’s house during a cabinet meeting and word still got out to Dream. Who knows, but it’s important for later.
Something big that I would change about this Act I is that I would give Techno an actual B-plot. As it stands, Techno’s early plotline was just “Grrr, I’m angry that Tommy would use me like that! Someone killed my cows and robbed me! L’Manburg will know my wrath”
3 weeks later
“Nevermind, I’m a pacifist now and live in the arctic”
Instead, we pick up where S1 left off. Techno is intent on destroying L’Manburg and instituting anarchy. During that time, he comes into conflict with Quackity’s henchmen (Fundy, George, Sapnap, etc.) to establish that L’Manburg could be an actual threat to him.
We also have some conflict with Phil. They’re old war buddies, but Phil’s son built L’Manburg and Phil himself is unofficially Tubbo’s advisor. I think them reconstituting their friendship will take up this early part until Tommy’s exile – it makes for a nice foil to Tommy’s and Tubbo’s friendship falling apart.
Technoblade also tries to recruit people like HBomb and Niki to his cause, but they’re hesitant, because, you know, he sent Withers to destroy their home. Not the best first impression. Techno is hurt, but convinced it’s because of L’Manburg propaganda and they don’t want to work with him, because they don’t see him as useful.
ACT II Part 1
Exile-Arc basically stays exactly the same – with one notable difference. When Technoblade comes to visit Tommy it’s not to mock him – it’s as a final attempt to convince Tommy to join him. It’s a first culmination of Techno’s character journey so far: His previous interactions with the citizenry of L’Manburg has left him shaken, but not shaken enough.
Tommy truly does need “The Blade” right now and he has no reason to further believe L’Manburg’s propaganda. So, by Technoblade’s inner logic, Tommy should accept.
But he doesn’t. Tommy viciously rips into Technoblade and gets very personal (he’s in a bad space, understandably) – Techno can play it off nonchalantly, but either the cinematography or some later moment shows us that he was hurt by this.
Nevertheless, he gives Tommy a compass that points to his HQ, showing us that he cares about Tommy, like he did during their early days in Pogtopia.
This is where we implement some big changes. The story of Technoblade and the Butcher Army becomes the A-plot, while the Exile becomes the B-plot.
It makes perfect sense. The Exile-Arc is a very inward-focused, almost a character study of Tommy and Dream. It doesn’t have a lot of big narrative movement – so the perfect time to execute on that narrative movement in the storyline that has a lot of moving pieces.
So, after Tommy chewed him out, Techno is hurt and meets with Philza. Techno then explains that for him anarchy always was the natural order of things – to fight for a world where only the strongest survive – but pursuing anarchy like that has left him empty. Philza then explains that anarchy should be more about helping people and building an equal community.
We’re all but stating a major thematic conflict of this storyline: Fighting those who wronged you vs. Helping those in need. All this while also exploring the philosophy of anarchy with Techno and Philza serving as symbolic stand-ins for some different thoughts on the matter.
So, while Tommy’s Exile is going on, Techno refines his approach. This goes hand in hand with Quackity using his henchman to turn L’Manburg into a totalitarian police state in order to root out Dream’s traitor (told you it would become important later).
This will be the main conflict here in the first half of Act 2. Quackity and Philza will play shoulder-devil and shoulder-angel respectively for Tubbo and Fundy, pulling them in different directions. Ghostbur also hangs around L’Manburg – a constant reminder for Tubbo of the most sanitized version of President Wilbur and the lofty ideas he stood for.
This is another big thematic conflict for this storyline – externalized in part through Ghostbur’s presence: When do the ends no longer justify the means? It also feeds into the motif of Tubbo and Tommy becoming like Schlatt and Wilbur respectively (even if that’s still mostly superficial).
During this political turmoil, Niki is getting into Quackity’s crosshairs. She opposes his policing and brutal methods. So Quackity really focuses in on her and she has to live with constant surveillance, searches, etc. Niki tries to talk to Tubbo about this, but he says it’s necessary to keep L’Manburg safe. Slowly, Niki grows disillusioned with L’Manburg.
It is during this time that Niki gets into contact with Techno and the two start to form a bond and helping the citizenry hold out hope during this time (I don’t know who would be the citizenry, probably people that don’t have their own storyline going on such as HBomb, Vikkstar, Lazarbeam, etc.)
And we can have a few lorestreams like that, where the conceit is that Techno’s sneaking into L’Manburg to help people and there’s actual tension.
All this culminates in Hog Hunt. Fundy sees Phil, Niki and Techno team-up. He confronts them after Techno left and Phil begs Fundy to not out them – but their divide has grown too deep (and we’ve actually shown that during Fundy’s streams this time).
Quackity has Phil and Niki incarcerated (L’Manburg has a prison now, it’s not as good as Pandora’s Vualt). Tubbo is deeply disturbed that Philza and Niki would betray him by working with the man that took one of his canon lives and finally gives the Butcher Army his presidential approval. Quackity was already prepared and the events of Hog Hunt play out as we know them.
ACT II Part 2
Again, plays out relatively similarly, except for one major difference: Tommy comes to Techno with the explicit purpose of asking for his help. Exile has left him really hardened, probably more so than we have currently.
This would a.) make Tommy a bit more proactive in his partnership with Techno and b.) actually gives some weight to Techno’s later beef with Tommy, because now it’s based on more than just some flimsy phrasing during S1.
Otherwise, this plays out relatively similarly – Techno and Tommy maybe share a few more character moments, just to drive home that Techno cares about Tommy. Also, none of that dumb keeping it a secret whether or not we destroy L’Manburg – that’s some contrived nonsense and I hate it.
Tommy knows that Techno wants to destroy L’Manburg and while he’s conflicted, he ultimately goes along with. Once he gets his discs back, everything will be over after all. The destruction of L’Manburg will have been worth it.
Part of the rising action will be breaking Phil and Niki out of prison instead of the petty bullshit about Techno’s items that he doesn’t need. This is where we have the initial confrontation between Tommy and Tubbo (and Techno doesn’t ruin the moment by being his worst self).
Other plot points include: Techno receives the Wither Skulls over the course of him and Tommy working together by some mysterious benefactor. This is after he and Tommy confronted Dream. He doesn’t tell Tommy who the benefactor is, even though he knows (spoilers: it’s Dream).
Meanwhile, Tommy, Techno, Niki and Phil are secretly rigging New L’Manburg with TNT a la Wilbur, just to really drive that comparison home. Niki is getting really angry; she has suffered enough and she’s really gonna get revenge.
One of her big moments of terrorism before the Green Festival is burning down the L’Mantree (maybe we can include some character conflict Fundy, so we have these two people who were once really close friends now so warped and torn apart by these two sides at war).
Meanwhile, Quackity has figured out that Ranboo was the traitor and is pushing for Tubbo to execute Ranboo for the greater good of L’Manburg. Tubbo is hesitant, but as there’s no moderate voice in the cabinet anymore, he concedes to the idea.
Finally, the Green Festival is here. This part is really … tough to rewrite, because you have to accommodate so many different character arcs, but I’ll try my best.
In a move not unlike during the Red Festival, Ranboo is revealed as the traitor and put in the execution cage (because those parallels). Tubbo feels really bad about it.
This is when Tommy and Techno start their assault and unleash the whithers. L’Manburg is under attack and we have the big fight between Tubbo and Tommy. We get the big shout-out “The discs were worth more than you ever were” and the ensuing epiphany on Tommy part.
Techno’s calling for him to explode the TNT, but he doesn’t do it.
Quackity is calling for Tubbo to execute Ranboo, but Tubbo has an epiphany himself and refuses. Both their personal conflicts are resolved here. Also, we have some nice parallelism between Quackity and Techno as Tubbo’s and Tommy’s respective bad influences.
Techno – understandably this time – feels betrayed and hurt. He and Tommy have their shouting match. Quackity tries to attack Techno, but during their match they accidentally trigger the TNT. Quackity’s hunger for power has created the grave of his ambitions.
(Niki is also pissed at Tommy and Fundy is fully distraught, because L’Manburg was everything he had left from Wilbur).
Dream steps out of the shadows and reveals that he was Techno’s mysterious benefactor. He gets his hands on the second disc and gloats to Tommy. The scene from Doomsday plays out only that Techno shows some stings of remorse for helping Dream accomplish what he wanted. (Quackity flees the ensuing chaos).
Dream tries to goad Tommy with the discs, but Tommy doesn’t bite, because he has resolved his Want vs. Need now. Dream is frustrated, but retreats for now.
ACT III
In the aftermath of ACT II, I think it’s very important to hammer home that this wasn’t a win for Techno, Niki or Phil. For that to work I think it’s important to make clear that Tommy’s and Techno’s bond was genuine and that they really cared for each other during the Bedrock Bros thing. Neither of them is happy for how this turned.
Niki is plagued by nightmares and sleeps in a prison cell like in the current canon. She stands in symbolic for the emptiness that vengeance brings. Phil is shaken from his talk to Ghostbur and he’s the one who brings up that maybe what they did wasn’t for the best.
Then Techno and Phil have a discussion about the nature of anarchy again, calling back to that earlier conversation at the beginning of Act 2. Techno also feels empty – his vengeance and the destruction he wrought left him no happier.
Meanwhile, Punz and Tommy are actually spending some quality bonding time. Thanks to the medium, they could simulate that pretty well. Punz actually gets attached and when Dream mentions his coup-de-grâce, the cinematography shows that Punz isn’t too happy about it.
Tommy and Tubbo prepare to fight Dream on their own terms. They know, they have to stop him lest he hurts the people they care about (this makes both of them a bit more proactive in the finale). Punz (as per Dream’s orders) tells Tommy where Dream is hiding. Tommy thanks him, oblivious that Punz is a traitor, but Punz feels bad. He has grown attached to Tommy.
During the Final Disc War we actually get two perspectives: One is Tommy’s and Tubbo’s as we know it (only without the constant “Your discs or Tubbo”-stuff) and the other is Punz’s. He has decided to help Tommy even though there’s nothing monetarily in it for him.
First, he goes to Quackity, but Quackity says that Tommy has betrayed him and L’Manburg and that he gets what’s coming to him.
In a last-ditch effort, he goes to Techno. Here’s where we resolve that thematic conflict (Vengeance vs. Charity) for the Techno-Butcher Army storyline: Quackity has chosen to perpetuate the cycle of vengeance (because he will be the villain in S3), but we want some nice character development for Techno.
Niki is against it and stays put, but Techno and Philza ultimately decide to go with Punz and the others to help Tommy.
Finale plays out the same. Stuff’s still awkward between Techno and Tommy/Tubbo; they haven’t resolved all their problems, but it’s a first step. Some good set-up for S3.
And that’s my basic rewrite. It’s long and probably not the best.
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seyaryminamoto · 3 years
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As someone, who's favourite character is Zuko, let me just say that your analysis about the Southern Raiders is spot on. Something about that episode (especially the way Zuko acted) always felt a little... off to me. And I could never figure out what it was exactly and considering the fact that discussion about this episode centered around the Kataang vs Zutara, I thought I was the only one who felt that way. So, I guess thanks for putting my thoughts into words.
Oh, I really feel ya, anon. If you actually don't look at the episode from a shipping point of view, which seems to be the focus of most the fandom, a lot of unpleasant things really start sticking out. I'm personally neutral to the Kataang vs. Zutara debate, I see good points and drawbacks to both ships, and no one's going to convince me that this episode proved the superiority of either pairing, especially when the shipping interpretations have never been important to me when analyzing this episode. People can say Aang is right in the end, they can say Zuko understands Katara's plight better (which, considering Aang has lost even more people he loved than Zuko has, he certainly should have understood Katara's suffering quite well too), but focusing on whether Zuko or Aang are the angel or the devil on Katara's shoulders practically blinds everyone to the very glaring and mindboggling flaws in this episode's writing, imo.
In general, the concept of Zuko's life-changing field trips with the three Gaang members he'd wronged the most is fine and fun for most people, but from the first time I watched the show it felt like the production team knew they were pressed for time and needed some veeeery quick and effective solution for Zuko to gain acceptance in the Gaang ASAP despite all the bad blood there. I can imagine a lot of people love these episodes, but admittedly I wouldn't rank any of them among my favorites because, as interesting as some of their concepts could be, if executed right, my immersion certainly wasn't as strong as with the rest of the show due to the nagging feeling that this was all for the sake of redeeming Zuko in the eyes of each Gaang member... and not necessarily in the eyes of the audience.
They get away with it, of course, because by this point in time, the audience is 100% conditioned to love the Gaang and Zuko, and if you see them getting along, you should be rejoicing in their team-up... but if you put some emotional distance between yourself as a viewer and the events of these episodes, their writing leaves a lot to be desired, especially in the concept of giving Zuko a quick whitewashing in the eyes of Aang, Sokka and Katara, one after the other, so they can genuinely accept him as a teammate and friend. If we'd seen similar trips frequently or occasionally in the rest of the show, with two specific members of the team taking off on an adventure by themselves, it might not be so glaringly obvious (and even... artificial? I guess?) that they're trying to quick-redeem him for each of them here, but on top of it happening thrice, it's literally happening one after the other, too. There's no episodes in-between, it's just literally a four-parter arc of "let's help Zuko become friends with these three".
The plotlines to be dealt with in these episodes are basically catered to each Gaang member, tailor-made life-changing field trips based on whatever they'll value the most, all of it conveniently possible and doable in the span of time they have between Zuko's joining of their group and the show's finale. Aang needs to learn firebending, Sokka needs to save his dad, Katara is permanently grieving for her mother's death. And so, Zuko to the rescue! If he helps them with their personal character quests, he gets 50+ approval points! :'D Honestly, I'm absolutely not against the notion of Zuko befriending them, obviously not, but the methods through which they chose to make it happen simply might not be the finest...?
Zuko loses his ability to bend because he "lost his rage", but he's still angry pretty often, the show even spoofs its own writing by showing him losing his patience at Sokka... while at the same time trying to sell that Zuko "isn't angry" anymore? Zuko helps break out random prisoners from the Boiling Rock without taking a single moment to actually learn who they are, why they were locked up, and without pondering if they deserve to be helped or if perhaps they're genuinely dangerous? Zuko gives Katara every possible tool and information she needs to take revenge on Yon Rha, because, loosely quoting his own words, he "cares what she thinks of him"...?
How about if we'd seen Zuko trying to connect with Fire Nation people, to help his fellow Fire Nation citizens, especially the ones who were living in dreadful conditions, like the ones in the Jang Hui river village? How about if we'd seen Zuko saving lives rather than threatening to take them? How about if we'd seen Zuko actually reasoning with his anger, and either working his way out of it, or repurposing it consciously, or making legitimate, personal efforts to find a new source of strength for his firebending through self-reflection, above all else?
We didn't really need sudden one-on-one field trips to teach Aang, Katara and Sokka to trust Zuko: we needed Zuko to prove himself worthy of that trust, to show how much he has changed, to literally contrast his new behavior with the old, to actually see that the guy no longer jumps into violence-mode 24/7, that he's willing to listen to other people's opinions or wisdom, that he wants to learn better when he knows he's misguided or misunderstanding something or another. Would he have become BFFs with any of them in four episodes if this had happened? Well, it definitely would have happened with Aang, the other two would have been trickier, but they definitely would have been more willing to accept him if they actually got to SEE that the changes in Zuko weren't skin-deep. Katara can be as thick-headed and stubborn as she may want to be, but I have no doubts she wouldn't have been able to hate Zuko as much as she used to if she'd seen him helping people, much like she often wants their group to do. But instead, they don't get to see the actual changes and growth... they just get their biggest goals and wishes satisfied, and that's enough to decide Zuko's trustworthy, no matter whatever sketchy behavior he displays in later episodes.
I absolutely appreciate the worldbuilding context we gain for the raids on the Water Tribe through The Southern Raiders, but I don't think this was an organic way to tell the story of how Zuko became friends with the Gaang. If pressed, I'd even say that Zuko's overt desperation to be their friend is OOC, to a degree: if this guy actually knows how dangerous his father's plans are (and he's supposed to :'D), how isn't he focusing on that side of things, when he's always been such a go-getter? It's not like he grew out of this sort of ends-justify-the-means behavior, seeing as he's absolutely obsessed with stopping his father ASAP, by any means possible, in the finale, when there was no such urgency to be found ever since he joined the Gaang. How isn't he more worried about stopping Ozai than about becoming best friends with the Gaang? Immediately sharing everything he's learned about Ozai's intentions of destroying the whole world might not make them friends instantaneously, but it would certainly get someone like Sokka to take his information seriously and immediately begin strategizing how to counter Ozai's plans. Instead, Zuko spent all those weeks, over a month, even, teaching Aang firebending, going on field trips and hanging out with his new friends in Ember Island. Once you have all the cards on deck and you actually look at all of them at once, doesn't it feel like there were so many more ways to achieve what the show was going for, far more effective ways than through the "let's be friends with Zuko" arc?
Ultimately, there's very little display of growth, in my opinion, in this small arc, on Zuko's side, despite the most obvious and reasonable way to earn the trust of the Gaang would be by outright showing them how much he's grown. I won't deny I appreciate that the writers respected his personality and didn't just warp him into the perfect good softboi the way the fandom apparently interprets him, but even if Zuko was going to be cranky and speak one-liners like "I'm never happy", it wasn't impossible to write better situations for him to connect with the Gaang's members and gain their trust. Even if the writers were set on having these episodes happen exactly as they did, they absolutely could have been written in a much better way, to create an explicit and direct contrast between Zuko's early behavior and the new Zuko's behavior when it comes to things that matter (most the parallels I've seen the fandom drawing are things like "oh look he hated tea before but now he brews it for his friends! So much growth!"... would've been nice to see the growth when it came to a lot of other things, too, if the growth really was there? Am I rite...?).
I may just be influenced by other redemption arcs that focus mainly on characters having common goals and working together to achieve them, then becoming friends in the process... but I really don't see how Zuko's character benefited from these episodes. Yes, bridges were built... but they absolutely could have been built in a more organic way that didn't make people like myself (and a few others) question if Zuko had learned or grown at all, considering the way he behaves isn't all that distant from the Zuko we've seen and known throughout the rest of the show. And the fact that he really seems to have learned nothing in The Southern Raiders once you reach the show's finale... you're basically asked to take for granted Zuko did learn a lot of lessons because he says he did, to assume he's going to put them into practice sometime in the future despite he has chances to do it during the show itself but never does, simply because they drop the ball upon every opportunity to show how much he's changed.
I really don't blame his character at all, when it comes to these shortcomings... it's seriously, genuinely, a problem with the writing department. Take a look through the fandom and you'll see thousands of people who claim Zuko's character arc is the most touching, complex and beautiful writing they ever have seen... and why? Because we're in the face of tell-don't-show :'D most people's perception of Zuko's character are based not so much on HOW Zuko displays his growth, it's strongly based on him stating he made progress, even if there's too many instances where the growth simply seems to have fallen to the wayside or gone forgotten for the sake of a plotline or another. Zuko absolutely could have been written far better than this, he could absolutely have the redemption arc his fans are sure he does have, but for me... there's way too many gaps in logic, too many missed opportunities, to truly think his growth was as extraordinary as a lot of people are hung up on saying it was.
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mmmonie · 3 years
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Hi my other post? Got notes? And I already had this basically ready to go so………….? Here it is I guess! Also I’m so sorry for how long this is LOL…..I am incapable of shutting up once I get going so it’s under the read more for you…….(also?? thank you? for the followers uhm cheesed to meet you? 😳 lol)
This is basically what I imagine the manifestation of a demon's powers to be like??? I called it the “juvenile phase” in my other post so thats what im going with lol
Here’s some things I said in my first post that are relevant here, slightly edited. (I elaborate more on the different ways demons are born in that post and I think they’re pretty self explanatory, but u might wanna go read it just in case it’s not clear enough 😔 sorry): (link to first post)
* Demons have multiple forms, not just the two shown in game. All in all the brothers have 5, each becoming less and less humanoid. (Most demons only have 4) 
* Half/human born demons are more likely to have both a tail and wings in their first demonic form. Stronger demons like the brothers are merely showing off the strongest of the two, but everyone has both. (Again bc I think they’re sick as fuck lol) This is why the stereotypical devil in our world has both wings and a tail. 
*a demon's features can be influenced by what sin they are, but it’s not a hard or fast rule.**
***this does not apply to little Ds whose look is entirely dependent on their sin. They are an entirely separate conversation 😈 (I elaborate on this briefly at the very end LOL) 
* half/human born demons can have two sins assigned to them, though this makes them less powerful in both. Usually there is a more prominent sin. 
*It should also be noted fallen angels do not have a juvenile phase. While the powers they develop after the Fall are different, they already come prepared, having had intense restraint implemented in their training in the celestial realm. The only things they develop are tails and horns, which happens very quickly during the Fall. They still have the same instincts as demons lol they are just much better at maintaining control. 
*another note: I’m gonna use acronyms for our different types of demons after a while to save me some headache. They’re pretty self explanatory (Ex: half demon = HD) 
With that let’s begin, shall we? 
~~~
*All demons are born with innate magical abilities, the juvenile phase is just the manifestation of their sins and some of their power. Some powers do not come into fruition until much later in a demon's lifespan. (Will elaborate later) 
*They won’t have a complete hold on their powers after this either, it’s just like. The bare minimum of getting a grip so they don’t cause immediate damage LOL they have many years to get into the nuances. Magic to demons is about as easy as breathing, but it still comes with its own challenges. 
*Many of the powers that manifest are shaped by what kind of sin(s) they display. I’m gonna say the sin(s) developed depend on the individual rather than it being hereditary. Though there are powers that are inherent to all demons. (i.e. hypnotizing humans like in lesson 11-14)
*The beginning of the juvenile phase starts when a demon develops their horns, wings, claws and tails. 
*For almost every demon, the juvenile phase lasts about two or three weeks. A human born’s phase will immediately kick in the day after their ceremony. Because of a half demon’s heritage, their transition is delayed and will usually happen around “middle school” age. (However many thousands of years that is lol. Also imagine going through puberty AND growing a bunch of extra shit.........smh.) 
*Natural demons have it slightly easier, they go through this phase very early (around toddler age). They develop the nubs of their horns, wings and tail a while after they’re born. 
*However this is NOT easier for whoever is taking care of them. Demons that develop later are mostly self-sufficient, meaning you can leave them to rest a bit. Can't leave a baby alone for very long though, can you? Especially not when they’re hurtling objects around with their mind, or causing things to spontaneously combust. (Also imagine a regular baby during their teething phase……….now imagine a baby’s teething phase being ten times more itchy AND manifesting new powers. Congratulations on your very cranky and powerful baby, best of luck to you.)
*Parents take this in stride as it’s just how demon babies are. It is all very Addams family esque…. like awwww, our baby just tried to induce horrific hallucinations of our own deaths!!! 🥺🥰🤧 they grow up so fast!!!!
*HB and HD wings and things grow in very quickly. The nubs will sprout from the skin and then mature into wings and horns in just a few days. ND transitions are much more drawn out, taking about a week to complete. All the growth is very itchy for everyone though. 
*You know when you have an itch that just won’t quit or that you can’t reach, so you have to use some outside force to get some relief? Same concept here. Much like deer and their antlers, demons rub their horns and wings up against things to get to those spots they can’t get to themselves. It also has the added effect of encouraging growth and getting excess skin/keratin off them. Family members often help with preening and scratching. 
*There are special concoctions/spells to make the process easier and to help ease the itchiness. As well as products made for specific purposes, like to get at that space where your wings meet your shoulders lol 
*There are also things to pad horns. Having your baby demon impale your shins is no fun. Neither is having your best friend accidentally get stuck in the cabinet because their horns went through the shelf. 
*The first week and a half is usually when a demon is most active. They are encouraged to play fight, stretch their new wings and become familiar with their new instincts. 
•Play fighting is a way to help learn to readjust to their new strength. (and thank god demons are near impossible to kill lol they can get VERY rough.) It’s also considered a bonding activity. 
*Hunting instincts also come into play so it’s not uncommon to see a demon in their juvenile phase playing a really fucked up game of hide and seek with their loved ones (no one gets hurt. Probably <3) 
*These two skills also help with learning how to fly. A game of fucked up hide and seek in the forest is both fun and educational. 
*This is very much like when puppies' paws are too big for they got damn them, except y'know. with horns and claws. So expect some accidental scrapes and
*This is also usually the time where their sin(s) will manifest, along with their new powers. At this point this is where family comes in, as a newly developing demon is reliant on everyone around them to help them learn how to control their strength/powers. Taking care of a demon in their juvenile phase is a family bonding activity, and even those who are prone to being cold are a bit softer during this time. (A reminder that family can be anyone, not just blood related.) 
*The second half of their transition is more about conserving energy for the introduction of their final form.  
*Nesting instincts kick in and are important here, because any nest created will be that demon's home for a period of time. They won’t stray very far from wherever they’ve chosen to stay. Nearly all demons will just choose a comfortable place in their home to nest, however, some demons (i.e. demons like Levi) need a special place because of their final forms. They will be drawn there instinctively.
*A nest is just composed of soft material and sometimes extra objects. For example a greed demon might want shiny or precious objects around their nest. 
*This will also be the home of the loved one(s) taking care of their demon. They will go out and find anything the other one might need or want. A demon will only choose one or two others to take care of them at this time. Other family members are allowed to visit, but the chosen demon(s) stay with their struggling one for nearly the entire last half of this period. 
*It’s considered an honor to be chosen and it is a bragging point, especially if you have been chosen multiple times. 
*Despite what you might think, parental/domestic skills are very important to demons. They live a very long time, and it be a waste to treat their spawn poorly. They’re stuck with them for nearly an eternity, so you might as well try to do your best with them. Being able to showcase being chosen to whomever your courting is, how you say.............a little sexy. So being chosen multiple times? “Wow you’d be a great parent? Tell me more…..😳” 
*Demons will slowly spend more and more time in their nest as they approach the end of their phase. Growing extra things takes a lot of energy! Many demons end up mostly sleeping for the last couple days in preparation for the end. 
*Since they are so sleepy, this is the most outwardly cuddly most demons will be. Close family members are encouraged to come stay in the same space for a while. The demon will often be asleep, but waking up and playing games with them is a great way to bond. If you’re REALLY special you might end up being allowed to sleep in their nest for a bit. 
*The juvenile phase culminates when the demon reaches their final form (usually the fourth one.) Over this last half, they slowly grow more monstrous features. Scales, fur, claws, eyes, teeth, spines.........the whole lot! Anything and everything you can imagine. Each demon's final form is unique, though they do not get a decision as to what features they have. Final forms tend to be very large. 
*This is where they are taught how to use their glamor and how to piece themselves back into a form that’s easier to maneuver. Think of it like starting from the top and working your way down. 
*There are demons whose job it is to go mark down the details of every single final form. Things like what powers manifested, to how tall they are, their overall physical strength and what sin(s) they portray, etc. They are all recorded in the royal archives. It’s a bit like a right of passage, especially for younger demons and their parents. 
*Going back to the very top, some powers won’t manifest until after the juvenile phase. Some won’t even manifest until the demon has hit sexual maturity (which takes a MUCH longer time for demons.) This is true of almost every power that Lust develops except for perhaps an increase in their charisma/ability to charm. Demons who are assigned Lust are considered the late bloomers of the demonic world, as almost all other sins manifest more power right away. 
*Also relating to the top of this post: the reason Little Ds looks are biased on what sin they are is because they are pure concentrated forms of sin given life. They’re extracted from the souls of humans who committed sin, and used for grunt work/errand running. They develop their own personalities as they go, but it takes a bit so they’re kind of a blank slate until then.
~~~
I was gonna be like oh treat for you here’s how the brothers dealt with Satan and his juvenile phase but this is long as FUCK already so I will make…...a separate post. Edit: SURPRISE! treat for u! heres the link if u want
Thanks for reading! Until next time ig? 
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phoebehalliwell · 3 years
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Prue gets together with Mitch (reincarnated Micah) and lives. How does their relationship evolve over the rest of the series?
okay so fr because like i've been thinking about this I've Been Thinking About This. WHY give us that connection if we're not gonna do anything with it??? WHY make it worse my literally giving us the guy THE EXACT SAME GUY and then never mention him again What is the motive?????? okay okay okay so here's what i'd do: 2.6 undercut lmao
because prue has really only had two boyfriends in the series so far: andy & jack (bane doesn't count as he was more of a tryst and also he's in jail :'( could have been fun tho! he could have sacrificed himself for somebody else and become a whitelighter he already knows the ins and outs of the underworld like. could have been something there. but as they were only together twice, once when prue was posing as a hitwoman and then again when he kidnapped her, he, tragically, does not him boyfriend status.) so here me out andy is a cop he represents protection and familial ties / ties to the past (prue's childhood best friend, already friends with the sisters, he's also a third generation cop so like there's that too). he represents prue's early stage, where she feels like she has to be the protector of the whole family, of which she is basically the matriarch. she doesn't get to have fun, she has to protect her sisters and now the whole world, and her past is having some very real effects on her life right now. that's her andy era.
jack era is at buckland's, it's her breadwinning era. we even saw in morality bites (which, i am once again bringing up, is fake) that she goes on to be superbillionaire whatever. so jack kind represents professional ambitions, amplified by the fact that the fonet also served as a blatant metaphor for their relationship (prue, the world is made up of almost perfect. it's nothing but near misses and necessary compromises. in this case, i think we got a little bit of both. that's okay, i know how you feel. i'm just asking you not to look so close. nothing bears up under that kind of scrutiny. are you talking about the monet? yeah, that too.) and that their relationship ends when she decided to leave bucklands to pursue a career in photography.
so now we enter season three, which is prue's artist era, her passionate like zeal for life era she finally seems to have a weight lifted off her shoulder for the first time in a long time like you can tell she like. trusts her sisters more than she ever has before she sees them in a new light and knows that they are strong and smart and independent and she doesn't need to protect them every waking hour. this era's for prue. so i'm pitching that micah mirrors this by being an artist, too. i wouldn't say the same medium (photography) as prue because like. prue's definitely someone who would compare herself to him just like subconsciously constantly that's the type of woman she is, but maybe like a painter. not a writer because they're all insufferable. lmao 🤙🤙. but someone who lives in a hella nice studio type loft filled with art and just like life. passion. something prue hasn't really allowed herself in like. a hot minute. and i would make micah (mitch??) a witch. haha it rhymes. scratch that i'd make him a warlock. or a darklighter i'm cashing in my half-darklighter character. it's mitch now. idk how this would fit into phole narrative foils maybe or we scrap phole but they're really coming from two different perspectives where cole is entering the joint like i am evil and here to murder and then he catches feelings whereas mitch would be like yes i have some dark past but i'm not letting it define me bonus points is prue is able to piece together the clues of his origin just by looking at his paintings. this also adds to the rift between prue and phoebe on prue's cole stance like oh your evil boyfriend is fine but mine, for some reason, is still evil? yes. oh you know what we keep the source's heir in this au let me continue.
instead of introducing mitch in p3 because like WHAT WAS THAT, we instead, parallel their first meeting. mitch's origin story is
his mom was a future whitelighter knocked up by a darklighter this was not intentional on anyone's part mom wasn't trying to become mom dad wasn't trying to become dad Nor did dad know mom was a future whitelighter. because well he's not great at being a darklighter in spite of maybe being like the. head darklighter's son he's like the fucked up son who doesn't wanna run things. he doesn't know he has a kid!! until something something an oracle or something tells him he has a son But he can't find mom because she's cloaked by her whitelighter. mom dies doing something heroic idk (maybe mom was a firefighter??) and then cloaking on mitch is lifted when he's in his late teens his dad finds him his dad is now like proper leader of the darklighter clan and is trying to bring mitch into the fold which initially he is game for because mitch has all these powers black orbing touch of death that he doesn't understand and finally a community to explain that to him! he gets a crossbow (which is lit) but um. quickly catches on to how blatantly evil the whole thing is. he's secretly teamed up with some whitelighters (not his mom tho. friends of his mom, but he's not allowed to see her :'/ ) to help get other halflings like him out and cloaked.
leo's been taken hostage by the darklighter something something something a plot a plot a plot we do some solid pleo angst we maybe have cole drop some thinly veiled advice about the underworld without coming out as a demon, something that will help the sisters later. but what's really important here is they're sneaking through the underworld maybe they've been split up and they need to find leo so either they're looking for him Or they're looking for a darklighter to interrogate. and prue hears shifting behind a rock and goes over to look and it's mitch and some kid and the kid immediately summons his crossbow but mitch knocks it away just like prue did with piper in the past and piper's like prue u see anything and she's like no nothing here and then mitch and the kid blackorb away which just leaves prue with this sinking feeling like what the fuck?? because. what the fuck??? a) that was the same guy from puritan times and b) she still feels the same she felt back then and c) it's clear he does do but d) --and this is the crucial one-- D) he's fucking evil????? so blah blah blah we save leo but now prue is left with one crucial question what the fuck is going on?
so what she's gonna do is research the town the colony whatever that melinda warren was born in she astral projects to salem or whatever and steals. maybe the mask mitch wore at the party she recognizes it from all hallows eve. and she brings that home and scrys with it. and she finds him!! and um bonus points looking at his place she sees he's an alum of the college she went to because backstory!! when prue was in college back when she was still pursuing photography before grams got sick, they had met before! once before, at a party, and it was this instant spark, this instant connection, but then something pulled them apart be it one of them was already in a relationship or their ride was leaving something but like. again! this connection has always been there. so like blah blah blah prue has broken into mitch's place she sees their college connection she sees his art and starts to pull together a life story he sees maybe some paperwork that just says like in bold letters like saving kids: good person activities something real obvious you know and that's Right Next To his crossbow. ~juxtaposition~ so like. what the fuck is this. but whatever that'll be dealt with later she has to get to work! but!! at the magazine her boss is like hey prue some guy came by here earlier asking for you you know [description of mitch], [description of mitch], [description of mitch], you know him? and prue's like ummmmmmmm. no. ?. and her boss is like ?? i don't really care. photography! but now she knows that while she's been digging up on him, he's been doing the same with her. so that night at p3 prue's like okay i've got to come clean with u guys remember micah and phoebe's like oh yeah that hottie from the past who was like . spiritually in love with you? and prue's like yeah i found him. and piper and phoebe are like 🤗🥳😃 and prue's like. and he's a darklighter. and piper and phoebe are like 😳😶👎 and prue's like yeah remember when like we were trying to save leo and you asked me if i saw something? well i did. it was him and and this kid and i think he was trying to save him and phoebe's like wait you think? and prue's like well i mean yeah phoebe like. it was like the same thing when he saved us in the 1700s. and phoebe's like well no because we're good witches and he saved us you saved a darklighter? and prue's like he's more than that phoebe and phoebe's like but how can you know (flash forward to her sparing cole in about three episodes and being like hmm 😐 those words are gonna bite me in the ass).
the point is they're hashing it out phoebe's devil on the left and piper's trying to be angel on the right But he is in the clan that kidnapped her husband so like..... but prue is explaining the good person papers she found on his desk, the fact that she went to college with him, she's like. she thinks he's only half darklighter and he's helping others like him and piper phoebe are like ....................do you just want him to be half darklighter and helping others like him but prue's not even listening but look who's coming down the stairs!! so she beelines over and phoebe's about to follow but piper holds her back bc wait let this play out they'll watch from afar and piper will freeze the room if she has to.
and something something something blah blah blah they tal and there's this tense like. what now. because like. What Now? you're evil and i'm a charmed one but this invisible string pulling me here whether i want it too or not. and i think prue kinda shifts back into her earlier seasons self where. it's family above all else. like i need you to steer clear because if i see you again i will vanquish you. and mitch knows she's bluffing. because he know that if he tried, even if he really wanted to, he couldn't harm a hair on her head. and it's clear she's like. suffering from the same ailment so to speak.
something something something maybe they have a couple quick brushes but not actual meetings And Then we get another time travel/past life episode where!! as it turns out. prue and mitch r soulmates cursed by a spurned lover to always be on opposite sides. meanwhile we just got cole demon reveal/cole's still alive reveal so prue's like hi mitch you're. evil. evil-adjacent. what do you know about belthazor/cole turner. and mitch does his due diligence and like. the stuff on belthazor is appalling. genuinely terrifying. but then there's some stuff on cole turner that's like kinda okay. this is were mitch does is big tragic backstory reveal, kids born of dark magic falling in with the wrong crowd blah blah blah and this kind of. supports our theory moving forward it's not really a theory. our endgame moving forward of healthy!cole. also prue and mitch still have not gotten together through all of this in spite of the cosmic pull and the past evidence of like. soulmatism. because they're both a bit too pragmatic they both think it's kind of a lost cause. blah blah blah pining we give prue a mini love interest here someone to keep her mind off mitch and we do make him good. kind, attentive, caring, smart, hot, but like. it's so painfully obvious she's not all in. so he calls it off. heart to heart with piper because piper's like hi you're in love. and prue's like yeah with a doomed relationship i think i'd rather not and piper's like hello you're talking to the queen of doomed relationships you wanna know the secret? and prue's like yes :( and piper's like just go for it. the time you have together is. it's better than anything else you'll ever have. there's gonna be heartbreak, but hell there's always gonna be heartbreak in the halliwell family. wouldn't you rather spend your time with someone you love?
something something something leo/mitch/cole buddy episode b plot. leo/mitch/cole/DARRYL buddy episode b plot. :D. prue and micah get their big first kiss in a very tv show build up way my heart is saying new years and all the fireworks go off around them.
we're bringing in paige because i love her she's first introduced by some seer oracle whatever as your other sister and the girls are like respectfully, bullshit. but micah's like hey......... she's half whitelighter. because he can sense those kind of things, being a darklighter. and piper and leo are like patty's affair....................... and all the pieces are falling together and in this one. paige either gets a witch love interest a cupid love interest or we keep henry because fwiw i do really like mortal love interests. if we do do the witch love interest it won't be richard i love him to piece i do but he sucks <3. source!cole time.
oh we introduce paige thru mitch trying to help one of his kids and that lands him at social services.
source!cole. idk what happens here but like. using our nifty-difty tool box the squad has been assembling over the years helping all of these wayward souls born from evil, things mostly work out fine. source's heir is born, a girl, but since prue isn't dead her name is either colette or victoria. depends if cole died or not.
prue moved out at some point and lives in a hella nice studio apartment with mitch they r both artists (who the fuck is paying for that?) phoebe moves back in the manor post-source fiasco paige moves in the manor but spends a lot of time with her sister prue and soon to be brother in law (??) mitch. (paige is like fr dude when are you gonna pop the question and mitch is like woahhhh pump the break because paige is new here and when she saw them she's like oh. married couple. but then they're not married. engaged? nope. no just loosely dating? okay. lame. bad idea. but as it turns out one of them always dies so they're just trying to avoid that for as long as possible) but paige spends a lot of time at pritch's place because not only is it The Art Zone it's also the rehabilitating kids zone, of which paige is a grand help. prue jokes about how much paige reminds her of phoebe as a kid, and since we're already muddying the timeline, we're having paige enter and solid advice columnist, married phoebe and paige is like haha what the fuck??
source's heir born twice blessed born magic school located under the charmed & co squad becomes integrated with children born of all magic and like our season 8 wrap up saccharine finale is like how magic has reached a new era of peace n understanding. <3
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zmediaoutlet · 4 years
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in support of wildfire relief, @bulbuli83 donated $50 and requested ‘Sam showing how far he’ll go to save Dean’. Thank you for donating!
to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.
Sam prays, every day. He keeps it secret, sort of, although it's less that he's hiding and more that he just doesn't know how to talk about it, and so he doesn't. He picked it up when they were really little, staying with Pastor Jim up in Blue Earth, and he was staying up past his bedtime and saw Jim go down to his knees on the dusty floorboards through a crack in the door, and watched, amazed, while he talked quietly to someone who wasn't there. An imaginary friend, is how Sam thought of it when he was small. When he got bigger he thought of it as… he doesn't know. It's hard to articulate.
It's harder to pray, some days. People die and worlds end. He watches a wife crouched by the broken body of her husband, gripping his ripped bloody shirt and making these awful, awful sounds into his sagging neck, and that night while he lies sleepless in bed he looks up at the ceiling, his hands locked together over his stomach, and he thinks—things he can't say. Questions that don't have an answer. Intellectually, he knows that half of this is just talking to himself—reflection, indecision. Justification. There's never an answer, and for a long time he thinks there never will be. Then, he meets an angel.
It was a bad year. He thought before that he'd been through bad. He had no idea what bad was until Dean's timer was ticking down, the days slipping away from them both like a paper blown on the wind, always just out of reach. Dean acted casual and it was a lie and Sam hated it more than he hated anything. Then, Dean wasn't lying anymore, and Sam thought, bleakly ironic, maybe he should've been happy with the fake smiling and the devil-may-care, because Dean hollow-eyed and afraid was—worse. It was worse.
He prayed then, too. Asking, in an incoherent way. He didn't often get on his knees for it, but he did those last months, in random places—by his bed like a little kid when Dean was sleeping troubled; in the bathroom under fluorescent light, the shower running to provide the excuse for privacy; on the cold ground, on the side of the road or in the woods, his hands clasped so tight they hurt, just asking, asking, saying please. Of course there was never a response. One day, when there were just weeks left on Dean's deal and Dean was waking out of panting desperate nightmares every morning and Sam could hardly eat, could barely sleep, all his focus locked onto finding some way, getting out of it somehow, he was on his knees by the car, his shoulder leaned against the cold side-panel and his lips moving in something furtive, desperate, saying I'd do anything, I swear I would, I'd give up whatever it took, if only—and then he opened his eyes, and Ruby was standing there, watching him.
There's a story he always liked. Sort of a joke, sort of not. A man's house is flooding and he prays to God for help. The waters rise, inevitably. A neighbor comes by with a rowboat, and the neighbor says, come on, there's a flood!, but the man says that no, he'll stay, because he's a faithful man and he knows that God will save him. The waters keep rising and the man has to go to the second floor of his house. A police boat comes by, and the police say, sir, sir, come out of your house, there's a flood!, but the man is faithful, and he says no, he will stay, because God loves him, and will save him. The waters rise. The man climbs up to the roof. A rescue helicopter comes, and a rope hangs down, and the flood surges dangerous all around, cracking trees and threatening foundations, and from the helicopter comes a voice that says, sir, the town is gone, you must come with us to be safe. The man sits alone, on the roof, and ignores the rope, and looks to the sky, and the helicopter leaves, and the man is content because he knows that God will save him. When the house shatters—when the man drowns, brackish water filling his lungs—he goes to heaven, and is met by God, and he says Heavenly Father, I prayed, and I believed in you, and I thought you loved me, and you didn't save me. God says, I sent a rowboat, and the police, and a damn helicopter. What else do I gotta do, you idiot?
Dean died. Sam—didn't. He tried to for a while but it didn't stick. He got very, very drunk, and he went to his knees mainly because he was struggling to stand, and he braced his hands on the ground and thought he was going to puke, his shoulders hunched against the pain of it, and he said, or thought he said, I would've done anything, I promised you, I said—I said I would save him and I couldn't save him, and that's the meat of it, in the end. That he had made Dean a promise and he'd seen how Dean tried to believe him, and then he broke it. He didn't do the only thing that mattered. He hunched there, on the ground, and it was only when Ruby came and touched his shoulder, lifted him up, that he realized that he hadn't really been praying the whole time—that he'd been begging—and Ruby said, then, her little hands hard on his wrist and on his jaw, You can't fix it, Sam. You can't. No one can. The only thing we can do now is get revenge. If you let me help you, we can kill her. You and me. He swayed on his feet but she held him up, her eyes dark and steady. He thought of water, rising. Tell me how, he said, and she did.
He'd already broken one promise. It didn't seem that much worse to break another. He drank her blood and he cleared his mind of anything but one goal. Lilith had to die, and the world would be better for her dying. It seemed—not fair, nothing was fair, but it seemed—right. She'd taken something from him. The most important thing. He'd take something from her. When he prayed, for the rest of that year, he prayed not for mercy or for clarity or for wisdom, but for focus. He had one thing he needed to do. He just needed to be able to do it.
Ruby had told him that no one could fix it, and she was right. Dean comes back and Sam can hardly believe it. He holds Dean in his arms and Dean grips his hair, his shoulder, vivid and breathing and real. Dean's alive and he's here, with Sam, and that should resettle the world. It should make things—okay, again. It doesn't. Dean says he doesn't remember hell but his eyes are still haunted, as raw and fearful as he was in the months that led up to his dying. Dean says things are okay, that he wants to make it work, but he's harsher, his voice wrecked and low, the way he watches Sam strange and mistrustful. They meet—and Sam can hardly bear it—an angel, and Sam's whole body feels strange, resonant. Proof, if he ever needed it, when faith had always been enough. The angel looks at him and is an answer—God's warrior, solid on the earth—and he says to Sam that he is an abomination, and he says to Sam that what he's doing, his work, the only thing that had made sense out of Sam's life for the broken time when Dean was gone—he says that it's wrong, and he has to stop, and that the angels will take care of it.
Of course, they won't. Sam knows that. Angels are miracles, God's intervening hand, but Sam has to do this himself. That's been clear for a long time, now.
He prays still but it's to something distant. He doesn't know if it's God, anymore. He sits on his bed, watching Dean sleeping (troubled, frowning), and he folds his hands between his knees and thinks, what can he do? How can he make it right, make it better?
There's a fight. An alley, a hard fast scrum. They're looking for one of these stupid seals, at the behest of the angels, but apparently the angels can't be trusted to watch their backs. In the alley they're all normal-looking guys except for how their eyes go black, when Sam comes around the corner and finds them with Dean, and Dean's bleeding. Dean's bleeding, from his nose and his lips, a cut on his temple like someone bashed his head into the wall, and even if Sam's had the impulse to do the same a few times in his life, other people aren't allowed to hurt him. What has it all been for, if not for that?
"Sam," Dean says, warning—warning, like there's not a demon's hand around his throat.
One of them squares up. Four, in the alley, two on Dean, one watching, one making like he thinks he's going to take Sam down. Last night Sam prayed and Ruby came, telling him that they were close to Lilith, that they were going to make it right, and she nicked her wrist and he drank deep and it's still there, crackling under his skin, filling his bones with light. He holds out a hand and the demon going for a haymaker stops in his tracks, flinches. There's a rustle. Leaves blowing, underfoot.
Sam concentrates but it turns out that it's not all that hard to concentrate, anymore. He's focused. He has clarity of purpose, and all the belief he needs, because it's easy to believe when the proof's right there in front of you. The demons surge at him and he stops them all, two hands out and his eyes half-lidded, the light in him roiling up, yoked to his needs. The one holding Dean lets go and Dean sags, his legs unsteady after that head wound, but Sam doesn't have time for him right this second—it's more important to make sure that the one who was touching Dean dies, and—he dies. The smoke in him gutters out, his spark crackling and then snuffed, like a fire without oxygen. The others go—more slowly, all three at once, and Sam breathes and feels them ebb, their soured souls trapped inside their mouths, the pain flaring and the light in Sam white-hot, bright, scorching them away until the bodies drop, empty, broken in the scattered leaves and trash of the alleyway. None of them stand up. The meatsuits must have been destroyed, too. Sam breathes out, rolling one shoulder, and feels—righteous. It'll be like that, he thinks. It'll be this way, when he finally kills Lilith.
Dean's still crouched by the wall of the bar. Sam steps over the bodies, crouches too. Dean flinches back a few inches but Sam shushes him, touches his jaw. "It's okay," he says, "it's over," and Dean sucks in air and looks at him with big worried eyes, but it is okay. Sam made it okay.
He runs his hands over Dean's shoulders and then gets his forearms, helps him up to his feet. No broken bones, that Sam can tell, and he gently presses Dean back against the bricks and tilts his face toward the neon light. In the blinking blue-red-white the blood looks bad, but it's been worse, and Sam applies a crumpled bandana from his pocket to the spot by Dean's temple where it's still seeping. Dean's eyes are closed, his face turned a little away. Sam touches his throat and feels his heartbeat, racing. They haven't been this close in weeks—Sam's heart is racing a little, too.
"I know you don't like them," Sam says, quietly. "My powers, I mean. But—if there's a way to save you, I'm gonna take it. If there's a way to fix things, to make it better—take out Lilith, stop all these seals from falling—then I'm gonna do it. I can do it, Dean."
Dean shifts against the wall but Sam holds him in place. Dean goes still. "The angels don't like it, Sam," he says. His voice sounds wrecked, like he's been yelling. Was he yelling, during the fight? Sam can't remember. "They say it's—wrong."
"Well, they're wrong," Sam says, and Dean opens his eyes, and Sam smiles at him, and shrugs. "I mean, how can it be wrong? Look," he says, and Dean looks, at the alleyway with the bodies filling it. His eyes are hooded a little but when the neon sign flashes white, Sam can see the green. He takes the bandana away and cups his hands around Dean's jaw, instead, turning his head back, and Dean's eyes are still lowered, fixed on Sam's chest, his breathing heavy. That's okay. Everything's okay.
"No one's going to touch you, again," Sam says. He's broken two promises, already. This third one, he can keep. "I swear. I'm gonna keep you safe, okay? And there's nothing any of the angels or any of the demons can do about it."
"You swear?" Dean says.
Sam frames Dean's face with his hands, the light still churning inside him. He leans in, and Dean's head tips back against the brick wall, and he looks Sam in the eyes finally, and his lips part, a breath heaving in. Sam could answer, but he thinks this is answer enough—he bends his head and kisses Dean, carefully, like they haven't in—god, months and months and months, with things so strange between them. He moves his mouth very softly, aware of how Dean's bleeding with that cut inside his lip, and Dean shudders under his hands, grips Sam's jacket, but then—slowly, tentatively, he kisses back. His tongue tastes like dark iron, like copper's tang. Sam pulls him in, closer, and Dean makes a small deep sound and presses close, just like Sam wanted, and Sam thinks, giddy, that all his faith was worth it. All those prayers, all those works. He did what he had to, and in reward he has—this. Dean, safe and his. Above them, it starts to rain.
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gayregis · 4 years
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hi! why do u think Regis doesn’t not exist as a character without hansa?
i am so glad you asked this question!! it's something important to me when it comes to regis's character that was made apparent to me after i read the hansa parts of baptism of fire, tower of the swallow, and lady of the lake. this argument came to me from flipping back and forth between games!regis as he appears in blood & wine, and books!regis as he appears originally. 
this train of thought stems from the differences between book and game regis, which i think i have already described at length somewhere else (edit, i found some thoughts (still couldnt find the og post i had in mind though, idk where it is, it was very long and i wrote it on a train): (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x))
but to summarize, games!regis isn't as personal with geralt, he doesn't seem committed to humanity at all, and his scenes involve more depressing and violent overtones (forced relapse? unable to control self with tempting of blood, having to be locked in a cage? what in the spiral...). in this analysis of the differences between games and book regis, i attributed some of games!regis's OOC-ness to the lack of the rest of geralt's hansa.
i think that regis cannot really be an accurate representation of his character without the presence or at the very least, the acknowledgement of, the other members of the hansa in a sincere and involved manner.
the conditions that i mean by this: when i refer to the "rest of the hansa," i mean at the very least geralt, dandelion, milva, and cahir (since angouleme was introduced later), but especially milva, for reasons i will desciribe later. when i refer to a "sincere and involved manner," i mean to say that the characters can't just sit there as pretty background or interact once and never again - they actually have to interact multiple times if not constantly, have meaningful conversations which demonstrate things about their characters, play off of each other in humorous exchanges, etc.
okay now onto my two main points
i. positive relationships with other members of the hansa demonstrate commitment to humanity
regis’s primary character goal and purpose in-universe is to be the “epitome of humanity.” i ask, how is this goal ever going to get represented or achieved if he never speaks to or interacts with any humans on a meaningful level other than geralt?
regis’s first and foremost role, that we learn as an audience as he introduces himself in his character debut in fen carn, is that he’s a barber-surgeon. this means that he is a healer, his whole job (which is quite significant in a medieval-esque setting such as this, one’s job pretty much defines their entire life, which you can see with geralt, yennefer, dandelion, milva, cahir, etc) is that he heals people and tries to help as many human lives as possible. 
how is he supposed to be a surgeon if he never actually is shown healing anyone? if he doesn’t have close relationships with the hansa, who else is he supposed to heal? one of the large parts that regis provides the company in baptism of fire is that he actually functions as a healer. he assists the peasant milva gave a concussion to, he sews the head wound dandelion garnered from his and geralt’s escape from the partisan camp, and he helps milva with her options relating to her pregnancy and later immediately goes to provide medical attention when she begins to miscarry. these actions demonstrate not only his role in society and demonstrate how he fits into the world of the witcher, but demonstrate his committment to humanity and to the wellbeing of others.
but of course, he could heal random other humans. why does he need to be around the hansa, specifically?
regis has many valuable interactions with the hansa, part of which i’ll expand on in my second point, but his developed friendships with each of the members and as a group begin to define him as committed to humanity not only in a general ethical sense, but in a personal manner. 
i have mentioned this “arrogant immortal vampire” archetype (think of like, a vampire that thinks they’re so much better, powerful, and knowledgable than humans just because they are a vampire) that regis is completely the opposite of, and we get to see that he is the opposite of this archetype only through his interactions with the rest of the hansa. 
it’s parts like when dandelion notices, “i see you know your fish!” and regis replies modestly, “i know lots of things :)!” or when regis criticizes geralt for not having a goal and that the cardinal directions of the compass mean nothing to him, and milva disagrees and says, “but ciri’s his goal? how can you say she’s nothing?” and regis apologizes and explains he was joking, without much tact... when regis treats angouleme with distance in their first meeting and tries to accuse her of lying, but then gives her his horse and in the next book defends her against fringilla/distracts fringilla’s sharp tongue from her and onto him. regis demonstrates humility and respect for others, as well as genuine friendship to others and propensity for humor during his interactions in the hansa.
without the hansa, specifically in blood and wine, what is regis? he doesn’t interact with anyone else, only geralt, maybe another vampire. how is he supposed to demonstrate and develop such meaningful interaction, good nature, and weighty values towards humanity without ever having the opportunity to be amongst friends? he simply will be a shell of the character he is supposed to be if he is separated from the hansa which defines him. 
ii. contrasts with other characters develop character
regis without the rest of the hansa will be expotentially weaker as a character because his qualities are not effectively made apparent without contrasting him against other characters.
i think milva and regis in baptism of fire have a very good character dynamic in that they are kind of opposites of one another. milva is action, force, to kill. regis is talk, placation, to heal. they address situations in extremely different manners, and have extremely different senses. this is good because they are both members of geralt’s company, and are liable to sway geralt either way, sort of representing a fork in the crossroads, or an angel and devil on his shoulders.
this is apparent in many scenes, but the ones that first come to mind are in baptism of fire, when regis describes the refugee camp in a very elaborate manner and then milva tells him “why use three dozen words, when three will suffice?” and is very blunt about the situation, and later when they are sitting by the fire as regis dispells myths about vampires, milva criticizes his philosophy and points out how generally useless it is. neither character is wrong in this situation, but their exchanges provide an opposite to compare the other to.
if regis spoke about philosophy on his own, and geralt nodded and muttered “hm...” (as you might see in tw3), or argued a little with him about what he was proposing, but ultimately conceded (as you see in baptism of fire), then what you as a reader get from this exchange is that regis philosophizes. that gives you information about his character, but it’s essentially useless - what does that say about him? he philosophizes. great, that’s good for him. but it doesn’t make him stand out as a character, because there’s no dissenting voice or someone to argue with him and point out the faults in his approach. 
by milva addressing regis’s approach as not the only way to approach a situation and to give another perspective, you learn something valuable about both of their characters: regis doesn’t just philosophize, he philosophizes unnecessarily, to the point of annoying and excessiveness. milva doesn’t just come at things from a simple point of view, she is headstrong and unwilling to entertain ideas she deems stupid. this is so much more interesting than just regis talking on his own, and no one responding to it with a genuinely different viewpoint or approach. geralt may argue with him, but in tw3 geralt is more of a vessel for the player to adopt rather than a character so his responses are limited, and also in baptism of fire, geralt is more wanton to argue with regis about the actual topic regis brings up: for example, discussing vampires and the symbolism of blood. geralt disagrees with regis’s analysis of the symbolism of blood and engages with him on this, milva disagrees with addressing the whole subject in a philosophical manner entirely.
and it’s not just contrasts... it’s also the general exchanges they have as a company, like regis getting excited about what dandelion is writing in the tower of the swallow, like angouleme calling him uncle and him trying to address her formally but she gives him more sass, like when they are walking in angren and regis points out the pines, “take a closer look at those trees,” and begins to lecture them, like when regis reappears and gives advice to geralt despite geralt trying to get rid of him. it’s this kind of human interaction which demonstrates to the reader his character traits, what kind of behavior he is prone to, how he is liable to respond in a given situation.
idk how to end this but basically yeah like regis needs his friends :( i also believe that more broadly, as it relates to real life, that we are defined by the people we share our lives with and how we treat them, not by our own conception of ourselves. it is our actions towards others and care which make an impact on this world and show what our inner characters are like
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sweetest-honeybee · 4 years
Text
To Hell and Back
Chapter 19
Summary: Hels and Wels get a bit of an examination, there’s a sappy apology, and Evil X accidentally confesses his love for Hels.
Characters: Helsknight, Welsknight, Evil Xisuma, Xisuma, Beef, Doc, and Tango
TW: None I think
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Beef certainly wasn’t expecting Wels to look so...different already. When Doc landed and practically threw the knight into one of the back corners of the room, Wels glared at him through the wool with blood red snake eyes. Doc removed the cloth around his mouth. Wels grinned evilly at Beef, showing off a pair of fangs and licked them slowly.
“Hey, Beef, you gonna make me a little angel again?” He batted his eyelashes at the butcher. “Wouldn’t want me getting loose, huh?” He wriggled in his place on the floor while Doc tied his ankles together.
“He’s changing at a much faster pace than Hels is. That was so….sudden,” Beef observed.
“Yeah, where’s Hels, anyways?” Doc asked, noticing how the dark knight wasn’t on the table. Beef snickered, briefly distracted by the question from Wels’s current state.
“Went outside to play with the piglets. I made a pen out back a few days ago and the dude is obsessed with them apparently.”
“Ooo, sounds like someone plans on making bacon later,” Wels stated from the corner. The creeper gifted his teeth.
“Keep talking and your dinner will be more wool. Don’t think I won’t clock you too. Xisuma’s strong but he’s not mutant,” Doc replied without turning to look over his shoulder at Wels. Beef stared at Doc with wide eyes.
“Xisuma punched him?!”
The creeper shrugged. “Wels seems to know how to push his buttons. Got him right in the jaw twice and Evil Xisuma had to keep him to doing it again,” he chuckled.
“I- Okay then. Where’s Xisuma? I thought he was coming with Tango and Evil Xisuma.”
Doc rubbed his neck. “Xisuma must’ve gotten overwhelmed or something, I don’t know. He looked like he was gonna pass out so I just brought Wels here and had the other two take care of that.” Their communicators buzzed, catching their attention. Beef hummed.
“Speaking of the devil, here he comes.”
As if on cue, Xisuma, Tango and Ex landed in front of the doorway. As they walked in, Tango and Xisuma marveled at the cloning machine. Or well, whatever it was. They didn’t imagine Beef wanted more clones running around possibly causing more problems like this. Nonetheless, the machine in the center of the room was one crazy looking contraption.
“Hey guys!” Greeted Beef. “Hels is out back and Wels is in the corner over-“ Beef turned, now noticing how long the silence was lasting. As Beef looked, he didn’t find the knight in the corner. “Oh no.”
The others peered around the machine where Doc and Beef were searching. Only was it when Beef walked out the suspiciously ajar back door, did he find Wels completely free of his ropes in the small pig pen with Hels.
“Wels, how did you-“ Beef was interrupted by the loud squeak erupting from one of the piglets. Wels had one of them held in his arms with a grin.
“I didn’t know you had a pig pen over here! Look how cute the baby pigs are,” the knight cooed. Somehow he was even fine with Hels sitting next to him as well. Both held and petted the babies happily.
Now Beef was confused. Very confused. He stepped back inside, not even knowing how to behind to describe what had happened. He wasn’t even sure how Wels managed to get out of the ropes, let alone explain how his personality completely reversed from his previously sadistic self. Perhaps he only switched back and forth rather than being completely evil in the span of three days.
“He- He’s playing with the pigs. He’s in the pen with Hels and they’re playing with pigs.” The butcher rubbed the bridge of his nose. “His entire personality just did a full 180, too.”
The other three made their own confused expressions. Evil Xisuma, surprisingly to the other two, spoke up.
“That’s not surprising. When I found him he was freaking out about nearly killing Tango. Didn’t seem very evil to me.”
“So it’s not constant then….” Doc added. “That’s odd. Hels is going through such a slow, but much more constant change from what I’ve noticed.”
“Yeah he’s been at it with the pigs for over an hour now,” interjected Beef. “No signs of changing anytime soon.”
“Exactly, but Wels is full on Jekyll and Hyde. And the switch is much more apparent and more aggressive. Hels doesn’t do more than crack a few jokes and play with the animals,” Doc continued. “I wonder why that is….” he thought aloud.
Ex also added an important point. “He said he didn’t know what had happened. Like he didn’t remember anything.”
At those observations, Tango suddenly felt guilty for what he said prior. Though not as guilty as Xisuma still was. The poor guy was still hesitant about speaking up about the situation. He simply watched as the others discussed. That was until Beef brought it up.
“Right right. Well, we need to get going with this stuff. I was gonna have Suma try to slap in some commands but….” he turned his head to the admin. “I think that’ll wait. Punching Wels over and over is probably just gonna make it worse after he’s already provoked.” He eyed Xisuma pointedly.
Xisuma shuffled sheepishly, feeling the other pairs of eyes on him. “Alright,” he agreed. “But if he’s threatening anyone, I’m interfering.”
Ex chuckled. “No you’re not.” X glared at him, but rolled his eyes. If he was going to try anything, Ex would just hold him back again. Not what he preferred by any means, but nobody was getting hurt at least. He’d rather not keep punching his friends in the face.
Beef clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get on with this, shall we?” The rest nodded in unison. “Great! Evil X, go retrieve the boys and the rest of us will start on some kind of analysis.” With a nod from the evil counterpart, the others split up for their tasks and Xisuma stepped outside.
As Ex walked out back, he couldn’t help but to awe at the knights happily playing with the piglets. Hels especially, even if it was only because of whatever was happening to the two. It was too overbearingly cute to see the usually hateful and malicious knight pull the baby pig up to his face, only to laugh when it licked his nose.
Sadly, Ex had to stop their activities. “Alright, that’s adorable, but we’ve gotta do some tests on ya’.” He pulled the piglets from the two and made a gesture for them to stand while he closed the pen. They followed his directions with little to no hesitation, which he personally found odd considering Wels’s previous mood, but again, he had another one of his mental switches.
Not to mention the fact that Wels was perfectly fine with being around Hels, let alone barely three feet apart behind the fence gate. The knight even would grab some of the pigs and show his counterpart, usually pointing out how some had little brown spots or that some of them weren’t actually pink with awe. It really was interesting. That only made him wonder if Wels had been doing this a couple weeks ago and the Hermits just happened to meet up with him while he was in his happier state of mind, and also somehow avoiding provoking him into lashing out again.
As they made their way back inside, Beef had the two sit on two tables sat far across the room from each other, Wels’s little table surrounded by iron bars and an iron door for the access to get inside. Visibly, everyone saw the knight grimace at his setup and pulled their hands to the hilts of their swords in case a Wels was to throw another tantrum.
But he didn’t. With a worried expression and a shake of his head as if to block off the ever growing hateful thoughts, he walked inside the cage and sat down. Hels on the other hand didn’t have precaution of any type, really. Just a stone table held up on fence posts which he gladly sat on much to Ex’s personal dismay. Oddly, he missed how rude Hels used to be. He was more confident, stronger, and for some reason, Ex weirdly admired his hateful personality. He loved it better when the knight would throw offhand insults jokingly and ask questions about how the over world worked. Even if he wanted to destroy the Hermitcraft server, but Ex knew he could prevent that himself.
Now, the used-to-be dark knight was now swinging his legs back and forth while he sat on the table like a child. Ex couldn’t help but to stifle a laugh at that.
“Alright, Doc, you take Hels, I’ll take Wels. Just poke around, ask some questions if you need to, write down the current changes. I can probably give a good estimate on how long they have before they’ve completely swapped,” Beef explained. “I’m not exactly an expert on this whole thing but I did make the machine after all.”
With a nod from the creeper, the butcher pulled a lever on the side of the room, making glass panes lifted from the floor to separate both parties from each other. Ex stayed on Hels’s side with Doc while Tango stood with Beef and Wels.
For a few minutes, the room was fairly silent minus the occasional “Open your mouth” or “Can you show me your hands”. Tango and Ex watched as the men observed the knights, carefully trying to not provoke either of them into a sudden change in personality. Though Hels still interestingly kept a quite calm and happy demeanor and followed his directions with no hesitation.
Wels on the other hand? Beef felt like he was walking on eggshells. He was closed into the little cage with Wels with enchanted diamond armor- though no sword- and worrying he’d set him off with a jab to the wrong part of his body or the wrong request. However, Wels followed his directions as well, but much sadder than his counterpart. He decided to speak up.
“I’m sorry.”
Beef looked up while the others in the room also turned. “What was that?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Wels, you weren't in control of that,” the butcher replied with a sigh. “You have nothing to say sorry for.”
Wels begged to differ. “I do, Beef. And I don’t know what’s happening and it’s….terrifying not being able to control the outbursts, but just know that….I’m sorry, Tango. For hurting you.” Wels peeked around the butcher and peered outside, speaking to Xisuma. “And I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I don’t know what I did but I heard from outside that I’ve done something to you and I’m very sorry.”
Everyone became silent at his apology. Really, if anything, it made some of them feel worse like the admin outside the building. But still, they accepted his apology happily.
“That was the sappiest apology I’ve ever heard.” Everyone turned their attention to Hels who stared down the other knight with a smirk. “Seriously, you didn’t have to go on about it. I’m sure they already know.”
With a burst of excitement, Ex pulled Hels into yet another spine crushing hug which he reciprocated by patting the other on the back awkwardly. Ex didn’t mind, however, and pulled away with a smile.
“You’re still in there!”
Hels eyed him curiously. “Uh, yes? Is something wrong with you or what?” He peeked around Ex. “Is something wrong with him?”
Ex simply laughed. “No, no, I just….missed how rude you were? That actually sounds odd when you say it out loud.” Nonetheless, the others got the gist. They smiled as well.
“Also what was he apologizing for anyways? Tango doesn’t look injured in the slightest,” asked Hels. He eyed the demon. “But I can change that.” Tango shifted uncomfortably.
Beef rolled his eyes. “There’s the Hels I expected. Be nice, bud. He’s been through a lot today already.” As if to try to seem like some kind of authority, the butcher put his hands on his hips which only earned a laugh from the others. Though, his statement still stood.
“Pfft, alright ‘dad’, whatever you say,” the knight replied sarcastically. That only brought a flush across Beef’s face and wide eyes.
“I uh- okay then,” he stammered. “Well still, just….be as nice as you’re able to.”
With that, the men continued on their examinations, now with more uplifted spirit. Beef could easily point out how oddly pointed Wels’s ears were, how much sharper his canines were becoming, and how dark of a blue his irises were- much to Doc’s frustration. The creeper couldn’t seem to point out any significant changes to the other knight. Nothing more than shorter, but still pointed ears and less of the red scales dotted over his cheeks. He hadn’t seen Hels in person enough to see anything too obvious.
Ex decided to butt in Doc’s examination. Easily, the counterpart could point out that Hels’s eyes were no longer slitted pupils, how much shorter his nails were as opposed to his previous claws. He confirmed the lack of the scales and the ears easily, and how Hels’s own fangs weren’t as long, nor as sharp, as they used to be.
“His hair is lighter, I think,” Ex added, finally. All of his observations brought Doc’s jaw to the floor. Hels mirrored his expression as well.
“You….really pay attention that much?” Hels asked slowly.
“Just need something to do when I’m with you. You’re very different from Wels. You’re taller, for some reason. Your tail is about five feet long, your pupils grow when you’re looking at something you’re interested in, and you always sneeze two times around the oxy daisies,” Ex listed.
Even Tango was gobsmacked by the amount of details. “You just happen to notice those things?! Yeesh, if I didn’t know better I’d say you liked him.”
“Well, yeah I like Hels a lot! He’s my friend, I think?” Ex turned to Hels. “Hey, are we friends?”
Hels just shrugged. “With that much random information, might as well be. Don’t get your hopes up, I’ll just complain the whole time.” Ex grinned in response.
Yet, Tango shook his head with a laugh. “Not what I meant, but I guess that works, too.”
Ex had to think for a moment about what the demon meant before his eyes widened. “Oh! You mean romantically, don’t you?” The counterpart laughed nervously, a flush creeping across his cheeks but it wasn’t too noticeable to the others. “Well, I mean Xisuma had to explain that to me. I suppose that’s a yes to that.”
From outside, they all heard a bark of laughter, quite obviously belonging to their admin.
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chipper9906 · 4 years
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Bound To You - Chapter 11: Always Happy To Bleed For The Winchesters
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WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15
NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated
Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Rating: General Audiences
Chapter Word Count: 7,338
Overall Word Count: 84,673
Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (11/?)
Chapter Preview:
The smug, knowing look that crossed Claire’s face was not one Dean was expecting at his stuttered answer (if it can even be called an answer), the young woman turning to Kaia with a roll of her eyes and a good-natured slap to the arm. “See, what did I tell you? Knew he’d do it eventually…”
“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.
“Oh, not much,” Claire says with a grin much too sly for Dean’s liking. “Me and Kaia just had a bet going on which one of you would confess to the other first. I bet Cas would do it first. Kaia bet you’d do it first, but I said you were way too emotionally constipated to manage something like that.”
“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.
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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations
'Italic Text' - Castiel
'Bold Text' - Dean
  The second time Dean rides as a passenger in the Impala since… the incident… is different from the first time. That car ride home was nothing less than awkward, of stale silences and anxious side glances from his brother.
This time? Dean has a smile on his face. The mood is light, the silence replaced with soft rock blasting from the cassette player, of airy laughs from Eileen whenever he taps her shoulder from the backseat and tries to sign the lyrics to a song he’s taken a particular liking to, and Sam’s grunts of telling him to knock it off and stop distracting him; even when he’s got a smile on his face, too.
To put it simply… the hope is palpable. They’re celebrating like they’ve already got Cas back. Like they’ve already won.
Dean tries his best not to let his nerves at that show.
“You really should have let me call Jody ahead and let her know,” Sam throws at Dean over his shoulder as the sign for ‘Sioux Falls’ flashes by them.
“You telling me you’re not looking forward to seeing the look on their faces when they see me like this? And find out that Cas is chilling up here with me?” Dean retorts.
“But did you have to knock my phone out of my hands?” Sam complains, turning the Impala towards the exit ramp of the highway. “Concrete floors aren’t great for fragile glass screens, you know.”
“Your nerdy ass loves any chance to tinker with toys. I gave you a reason to replace your screen. You’re welcome.”
‘Considering you two live off of scammed credit cards, you’re very care-free with your expensive electronics.’
‘Thanks to Charlie, we don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. Nothing better than scamming credit card companies, Cas. Bastards do all they can to bleed people dry.’
‘If you say so. Perhaps you’d see it differently if you were actually earning a wage.’
‘Oh God, I forgot you didn’t properly get to ‘meet’ the us from the other world… They got paid to hunt monsters, and you know what? I’d rather live off credit card fraud and be myself than be… whatever the hell they were… assholes had their own damn plane…’
‘Are you saying you wouldn’t want your own plane?’
‘Don’t like flying Cas. Prefer to keep my feet on the ground, thank you very much.’
‘You don’t like flying?’
‘Hell no. Trapped in a stuffy metal tube with hundreds of other people, babies crying throughout the whole damn flight, eating overpriced and stale snacks? Oh, and the fact that I’m not in control of the plane whatsoever? And even if I was - if something were to go wrong? Not much you can do but hope you go quick.’
‘Oh. I suppose it’s different for me. I love… um, I loved flying. Plus there’s the fact that we as angels were designed for flying whereas you… were not.’
‘Yeah… and you have a few billion years’ experience over me with flying. Probably as natural to you as walking.’
‘Hmm… I suppose that’s where angels and humans are different. Our ability of flight… it’s part of who we are. A major part of what makes up our true form is our wings. The ability to travel the entire globe, even to anywhere within the Universe if we so pleased – in the span of a second? I’ll admit, it was something I took for granted.’
‘You still miss your wings, huh? I mean, I know you still have them, but…’
‘But they’re broken. It’s okay Dean, you can say it. And, yes, I still miss them. I always will. But it gets easier. You adapt to these things. You learn… there’s more important things.’
‘Yeah… that’s… that’s some words to live by, Cas. Kind of wish I could have seen your wings. I mean, I know you did the whole shadow puppet thing when we first met to show off – and don’t deny that wasn’t what you were doing; I got that smug face of yours seared into my brain. Hell, not even just your wings. I wish I could have been one of those ‘special people’ who get to see your true form.’
‘You… you do?’
‘Course I do, Cas. Sure, I think of you and I see Jimmy’s face, and… well, Jimmy’s face and his body are you now, in a way, but… I don’t know, you’ve seen both my physical form and my soul, and then… I’ve never been able to see the real face of the angel I’ve fallen for.’
‘I don’t think you’d truly want to see me… an angel's true form is… ‘unsettling’, to say the least.’
‘Cas, I don’t care if you’re really ‘the size of the Chrysler building’ and have multiple animal heads like Zacharia did. You’re Cas. You could be in Jimmy’s body, in some random dude's body, your true form, whatever. It doesn’t matter to me. So long as I know it’s you in there? I’ll love whatever is staring back at me.’
‘…what if I was possessing Sam?’
‘Not only did you ruin the moment, but you made it super weird. I’m kinda impressed.’
“What are you two gossiping about now?” Sam’s amused voice brought Dean back into the present, realizing with a startle that they were already pulling into Jody’s driveway.
“Eh, nothing much. Cas just wanted to know If I’d still bone him while he was possessing you.”
“What?!” Sam spluttered, slamming on the brakes a little harder than he intended.
‘That’s not what I meant!’
“That’s messed up, Cas!” Sam turned wide-eyed to face Dean, his startled and disgusted look boring straight through to Cas. “I hope you told him no, Dean!”
‘Technically, you haven’t said no-.’
‘NO, Cas! I would still love you, but that is a line I am not willing to cross.’
“What the hell is happening?” Eileen had her arms braced against Baby’s dash, not at all expecting the rather sudden stop.
“You don’t want to know,” Sam signed towards Eileen, giving Dean one last offended look before switching off the Impala’s engine.
Sam and Eileen had only just transferred Dean from the Impala into his wheelchair when the front door to the Mill’s home swung open, an already welcoming smile plastered on Jody’s face as she took in the sight of Sam and Eileen.
“I thought I heard the Impala’s obnoxiously loud engine,” Jody joked, leaving the front door open a crack as she steps out into the driveway. “Where’s-,”
Jody’s face dropped as Sam shifted to the side, catching sight of an oddly cheerful-looking Dean Winchester sat within a wheelchair. She hadn’t meant for her mouth to drop open the way that it did, or for her mind to fully expect for Dean to jump straight out of the wheelchair and all three of them to burst into laughter at her reaction in what would be some sick prank. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wheels closer to her, the cheerful smile on his face wavering as the seconds tick by.
“Okay Sammy, maybe you were right… Probably should have warned her…”
“What is…” Is all Jody can get out at first, clearing her throat and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of the situation. “What happened?”
“Now that is one hell of a story…” Dean says with a half-hearted laugh. “And it ties into the reason we’re here.”
“I did want to tell you first, but Dean decided he wanted to be an asshole about it,” Sam offers, giving Jody an awkward wave. “Oh, and… this is Eileen.’
“Hello…” Eileen greeted the sheriff with a wave that was somehow even more awkward than Sam’s.
“Right… well, um… you should probably come in…” Jody says, glancing back to the front door. “I’m guessing you’re not just here to catch up?”
“Afraid not. We, uh… we actually need to speak to Claire, too.” Sam said.
Jody frowned at that, crossing her arms across her chest as she stared them down. Typically, when the Winchesters needed to speak to you, it was either because you were in trouble, or they were about to get you into trouble. “…What for?”
“It’s probably best Claire joins us first. Just so we can get the whole story out in one go.” Sam tells her.
“You’re telling me that the reason Dean is… you know… ties into you needing Claire?”
“Sounds weird, but yeah,” Dean says.
Jody can only sigh at that, uncrossing her arms and waving at them to follow as she turns back towards the Mill’s family home.
“You boys do like to test me…”
 * * *
Dean had never felt so out of place. Sam and Eileen were sat comfortably on the couch in the living room whilst he was sort of just… off to the side in his wheelchair. Yeah, he could have sat on the couch if he wanted to, but a) he’d rather not be squashed up against Sam and Eileen, and b) …he’s too lazy to move back and forth from the wheelchair.
Plus, even though he feels bad for how distraught Jody looked at the sight of him, he still kinda wanted to see Claire’s reaction.
Sam’s right, he is an asshole…
Speak of the devil, those bounding ‘taking two steps at a time’ footsteps stomping down the stairs could only be those of teenage angst, two other pairs of footfalls following just behind, though much calmer than the ones of the blonde-haired girl that appears in the doorframe leading to the living room.
“Sup dorks-,”
It seemed that Claire is taking after Jody more and more every time that Dean sees her, considering the fact that her expression is pretty much identical to Jody’s, her eyes drawn to Dean sticking out like a sore thumb in the room.
“I know,” Dean says as seriously as he can. “I just get more handsome the older I get, don’t I?”
Claire was so frozen in place that Kaia, who had been following just behind, nearly ran into the back of her. Kaia’s eyes widened upon seeing them, partly hidden by Claire with a hand hanging onto Claire’s sleeve as what could ever be a comforting gesture for Claire, or an attempt to ground herself.
“Oh my God…”
“Nope, we took care of him,” Dean joked.
“Jack took care of him,” Sam corrected him. “We got our asses handed to us.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on then,” Jody’s voice booms from the bottom of the staircases, striding into the living room and brushing past Claire and Kaia as she went. “Apparently, we’ve got a story to hear.”
Claire finally snapped herself out of her frozen trance, taking a few timid steps into the living room with Kaia following close behind as usual. “How bad is it?” She asked Dean, unable to tear her eyes from his limp legs.
“I can’t walk so, you know, not great. Still got my arms and the use of little Dean though, so-,”
“Let’s not get too detailed,” Jody cuts him off, holding out a hand to stop him with a grimace. “Did you… did you break your back?”
“More like shattered. But, uh… probably best we go from the beginning, like Sam said.”
“Wait…” Claire stopped Dean before he could start, her eyes darting between all three of them. “Where’s Castiel? And no offense, but uh… who’s this chick?”
“Claire!” Jody scolded her surrogate daughter. “It's not a crime to remember manners every once in a while, you know.”
“I’m Eileen,” Eileen answered, the off-rhythm tone of her voice getting Claire to raise her eyebrows in recognition.
“Oh! Are you, um… hard of hearing?”
“Lost all my hearing as a baby to a banshee,” Eileen answers. “I can read lips, though.”
“A banshee? Does that mean you’re a hunter, too?” Kaia piped up, starting to shift away from her hiding space behind Claire.
“Born and raised, pretty much,” Eileen answers.
“We met Eileen a few years go on a banshee hunt – the same banshee, actually,” Sam adds. “She, uh…”
“I was killed by a Hellhound set on me by the British Men of Letters,” Eileen finishes the sentence Sam struggled to say.
“Oh…” Claire is just about able to get out, staring bug-eyed at the female hunter in front of her. “And now you’re…?”
“Don’t worry, she’s alive. And human,” Dean reassured them. “Sam went all witch-mode and brought her back.”
“You… Sam, you did what?” Jody spluttered in her mom voice.
The power of ‘the mom voice’ had Sam instinctively cowering in submission. “The spell was mostly completed already…”
“Okay…” Claire butt in before Jody could scold Sam for dabbling in witchcraft. “So… where’s Jack and Cas? Could they not make it…?”
“Technically… they’re both here, in a way,” Dean says with a grin.
Sam sends yet another classic bitch face his way. “Dean-,”
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop being cryptic,” Dean mutters in defeat. “So… you remember when Jack got sick? After he died… Cas found him in Heaven. Along with the Empty… Cas decided to be a dumbass and make a deal without telling us. Jack came back and… Cas’s life was exchanged for it.”
The grief-stricken look that passed across Claire’s face had Dean scrambling to continue. “He’s not dead! Not right now, anyway. He, uh… he sacrificed himself for me. Death was coming for us – and I’m talking the literal Death here – and Cas used his deal with the Empty against her.”
“Wait, I’m confused-,” Jody interrupted Dean’s story. “What exactly was the deal Castiel made?”
 “He took Jack’s place in the Empty. Except, the Empty decided it wanted to be a dick about it. It would only take Cas once he ‘experienced a moment of true happiness’, so…”
“So… Cas forced himself to experience a moment of true happiness to… save you?” Claire asked. “How does that work?”
“The Empty… kinda had a grudge against Death. When Cas summoned the Empty to us, the Empty took Death along with Cas.”
“Oh… and, um… the moment of true happiness? What was that?”
Dean’s words froze in his throat, reluctant to leave his lips. There was something about the fact that he was saying it to Claire… the daughter of the guy his angel wears… he could only hope she didn’t find it too weird…
“Well… uh… he…”
The smug, knowing look that crossed Claire’s face was not one Dean was expecting at his stuttered answer (if it can even be called an answer), the young woman turning to Kaia with a roll of her eyes and a good-natured slap to the arm. “See, what did I tell you? Knew he’d do it eventually…”
“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.
“Oh, not much,” Claire says with a grin much too sly for Dean’s liking. “Me and Kaia just had a bet going on which one of you would confess to the other first. I bet Cas would do it first. Kaia bet you’d do it first, but I said you were way too emotionally constipated to manage something like that.”
“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.
“Excuse me-,”
“The only way I could see you making the first move would be to kiss Cas at some random ass time, panic that you did it, and then run away,” Claire told him, counting the events on her fingers.
“I…” Damn, she was probably right… “Uh… you knew?”
Claire scoffed at that, feeling comfortable enough to walk further into the room and drop down into the armchair opposite, leaning back against the cushioned pillow with her arms crossed. “Please. I don’t have many memories of my dad, but I remember the way he would look at my mom. Cas has the same damn look when he looks at you.”
‘Well… it IS his face…’
‘Yeah, and that probably freaks her out a little so… maybe not mention that?’
“Hey, me and Eileen had a bet going too!” Sam says jovially, the amused smile on his face slipping away as he caught sight of Dean’s fiery glare. “Sorry…”
“Alright, alright, everyone knew me and Cas had a thing for each other before either of us did. We got it…” Dean grumbles, copying the moody teenager opposite by crossing his arms, glaring at the concealed smiles of the others in the room.
Claire perks up as she picks out something Dean had just said. “Uh… did you just say we?”
‘Time to shine, Cas…’
Jody, Claire, and Kaia startle at the piercing blue light that overtakes Dean’s eyes, unsettled by the unnaturally blank and tense posture that comes over Dean. Three pairs of frantic eyes shift over to Sam and Eileen, only relaxing marginally when they see the two aren’t phased by what was happening.
The blue slowly fades away as Dean slumps back into his chair, shaking his head and blinking sluggishly as the disorientation of possession switching clings to him. He raises his eyes up, settling on Claire with a light smile that was oddly familiar to the teenager, yet looked so foreign on Dean…
“Hello, Claire.”
She didn’t know how, but she knew straight away. Perhaps it was the strained, constipated sounding way he spoke, or his voice dropping deeper (which she thought was impossible already), or the way Dean’s eyes had lost that playful and joking edge they usually held with her, replaced with a much softer and more… more fatherlike look.
“Castiel? Is that… is that you?”
“It is for now, yes,” Castiel answers. “Dean and I… we are currently sharing possession of his body. To repeat Dean’s earlier words, Dean decided to ‘be a dumbass’-,”
‘How dare you-,’
“-during a hunt and got himself injured.”
“Like… ‘shattering your spine’ injured?”
“More than that,” Sam says darkly, gritting his teeth against the harsh memory of that night. “It was a pack of Vamps that had been around for a while. And when I say a while, I mean our Dad once tried hunting them. One of them managed to get ahold of Dean and it… it shoved Dean into a rebar.”
“The rebar pierced through his back and into his chest,” Cas embellished, the others grimacing at the image. “It punctured his heart, along with a lung. And, as you can imagine, it did some devastating damage to his spine. Fortunately… Dean made the decision to pray to me. Dean saved me from the Empty, and in return, I saved his life. But… my grace is running low. I used a majority of it healing Dean’s wounds, but it wasn’t enough-,”
“I thought your grace recharged itself?” Claire asks.
“It does, usually. I’m not entirely sure the reason for it, though I believe it may be connected to Heaven’s weakened power… Either way, it’s still not replenishing itself. In fact… it’s doing the opposite.”
“You’re running out of your grace?” Claire leans forward as she says this, her brow pinched in worry. “What does that mean for you? Will you…”
“I could die. Or I may live in Dean’s body, forcing him out and killing him.”
“Oh… And, um… what happened to… to my dad’s body?”
Castiel frowned at the way Claire’s voice seemed to shrink on itself as she asks him this, for a moment seeing the frightened little girl that stood in the doorframe, asking for her daddy as an alien being takes him away from her forever.
“That’s the reason we’re here, Claire,” Castiel tells her. “I know I’ve taken so much from you already. And now… I have to ask more of you again.”
Claire shuffled uncomfortably under Castiel’s intense and sorrowful gaze. Kaia is by her side within seconds, hovering near the armchair as she senses Claire’s clear discomfort. “Is this going to be dangerous?” Kaia asks on Claire’s behalf.
“No, it shouldn’t be,” Cas answered, unable to see Sam looking uneasily at him in a quick side-glance. “I am asking you… for your permission; your permission to use your father’s body once more as my own. We believe it might be the only way to keep me alive, as transferring me to another vessel may just use up the last of my grace, but seeing as I already had your father’s permission…”
“Right…” Claire mutters, clearing her throat and dragging her line of sight back up to face Dea- no, Castiel. “I’m not going to lie to you Castiel, it’ll always be kind of weird for me. But… I know Dad’s up there with mom, and that they’re happy, and… asides from my actual dad, you’re the closest thing I have to one, so… If this means I don’t have to lose you too, then yeah. You have my permission.”
Claire stubbornly fights back the burning tears in her eyes at the watery smile Castiel gives her, always taken aback to see the once stoic and hard-ass angel showing such raw emotion.
“Thank you, Claire. There’s… one more thing I need to ask of you.”
“Actually-,” Sam interrupts, much to Cas’ surprise. “There might be two things…”
Both Eileen and Cas frown up at him, racking their brains to try and remember the extra ingredient that they apparently needed from Claire.
“We found a spell that might be able to re-create your dad’s body without needing his soul,” Sam begins to explain to Claire, ignoring Eileen and Cas’s inquisitive stares. “One of the ingredients requires a vial of blood from a relative of the vessel. And… you’re the only surviving relative that we know of.”
“That… seems easy…” Claire says, suspicious at how simple this was all sounding.
“That one should be no problem, but uh…” Sam sighs, switching his gaze over to Castiel. “Listen Cas, I didn’t want to bring this up back at the bunker because I kind of had a feeling you’d shoot it down before I could even ask Claire.”
“…Sam…. What are you talking about?” Castiel asked, already dreading the answer.
Sam sighs deeply once again, tearing his gaze away from Cas and back to Claire. “Thing is, we need to use Cas’ grace for the spell. Problem with that is that there’s not much for us to use, and… we don’t really know what could happen if we don’t use enough. The last time this spell was used, the spell caster used pretty much all of the angel’s grace. I’m guessing we need all the grace we can get, and um… I was thinking about it, and… you see, the thing about possession is that the angel typically leaves a piece of their grace behind inside the previous vessel. And, if I remember right… Cas once possessed you.”
“No,” Castiel said sternly, the harshness in his tone making everyone in the room startle at the reminder of the powerful angel in their presence. Castiel knew what Sam was getting at. He knew what this was leading to.
“It’s worth a shot, Cas,” Sam argued, not backing down from Castiel’s ticked off glare. He holds Castiel’s gaze for a few moments before breaking it, turning back to Claire as he continues. “There was a time when I was possessed myself by an angel. We were able to use a, uh… kind of like a big needle to extract the grace from me-,”
“And it nearly killed you!” Castiel spat out. “We might not even need that much of my grace for the spell. Sam, it is not worth the risk-,”
“We don’t know that. And we won’t go all the way, Cas,” Sam assured him before turning desperate eyes back to Claire. “We won’t, Claire. I promise we won't. We managed to extract some grace from me without killing me. It won't extract all of Cas’s grace, but… that extra bit of grace from you could be the difference between this experiment failing, or saving Cas’s life. It’s all up to you, okay? If you don’t want to do this, we won’t force you into it.”
Nearly everyone in the room looked uneasy at Sam’s plan. Hell, even Sam didn’t look like he liked his own suggestion, but mostly… it was a look of desperation, of understanding, patiently waiting when you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the answer. Claire got to take this all in, along with Dean’s – or Cas’s, she supposed – conflicted grimace, unable to meet her eyes.
“What about this makes it dangerous?” Jody’s voice broke the tension. “You mentioned a needle?”
Sam nodded his head, reaching down to the duffel bag by his feet and unzipping it. All eyes in the room focused on him as he rummaged through the bag, their faces paling at the imposing metal syringe Sam held in his hands.
“The Grace has to be extracted from the neck…” Sam tells them, his own face twisting into a grimace at the reminder of his own experience. “That’s what made it dangerous. To get all the grace… you need to push the needle in further and further. But we’re not going to do that, okay?”
Sam placed the syringe to the side, picking up on how Claire was unable to tear her gaze away from the menacing instrument. “Cas can monitor you the whole time, right Cas? We’ll keep to a safe level, extracting what we can.”
Claire nodded her head, just barely noticeable, her eyes drifting across the room as she sits, lost in thought. “And… doing this… it’ll help you?” Claire directed the question at Castiel, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet Dean’s.
“I… I suppose so, yes,” Castiel begrudgingly admitted. “Every piece of my grace would help, but Claire-,”
“Then I’ll do it.”
Castiel’s mouth swung shut at her answer, taken aback by the assured confidence in her voice.
Kaia looked to Claire, torn between wanting to say what was on her mind, but also wanting to respect her decision. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Claire insisted with a soft smile at the girl behind her. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Cas is looking out for me.”
‘Huh… you know, you and Claire have the same smile. I mean, I know it’s Jimmy’s smile, but… you smile at me like that, too.’
“I can’t say I’m feeling all that jazzed about this decision,” Jody says. “But… I also know it’s not mine to make. Just… be careful. Please.”
“I’ll intervene before even the slightest bit of harm could be inflicted,” Castiel assured Jody in that sincere grovel of his that the Winchesters know mean he’s ready to sacrifice himself if it comes to it. “I give you my word.”
“Okay, let’s just…” Claire tried not to shudder at the thought of what that needle would feel like in her neck… “Let’s get this over with…”
* * *
Claire was able to hold back a wince as the marginally smaller needle slid out from the crook of her elbow, barely even able to get a glimpse of the puncture wound it left behind before Jody was swabbing at it with the gauze from the first aid kit.
She did get a glimpse of the small glass vial filled with a dark crimson liquid that was once running through her veins, now held in Sam’s hands. He carefully screwed the lid back on the top, avoiding spilling any of what was – technically – a precious ingredient to them now.
“Never liked getting blood tests taken…” Claire mumbled, rolling her eyes at the brightly colored care-bears band-aid that Kaia stuck over her arm.
“Better than having to slice your palm open a few thousand times for spells,” Sam said, handing the vial over to Eileen for safe storage. “Makes handling weapons a pain for a few weeks…”
“Maybe you guys should just keep bags of your blood around or something for that,” Claire joked from the couch. “With how often you guys get injured, it would probably be useful.”
‘Doubt a bag of blood would have fixed my heart, but it’s the thought that counts.’
The joking smile on Claire’s face disappeared the second the ridiculously big syringe was back in Sam’s hands, the sight of that long and sharp needle sending chills up her spine.
A small smile of sympathy hitched at Sam’s lips at the clear apprehension on Claire’s face. He takes the few steps over to the couch where Claire was sat, followed closely behind by Cas as he wheels himself next to Claire.
“You might want to lie down for this,” Castiel tells her. “The procedure is… unpleasant.”
Claire swallowed nervously at his warning, shifting around on the couch until her head was resting against the mountain of pillows that Jody had quickly built for her, placing trembling hands across her stomach as she waits for something that’s going to be – well, ‘unpleasant.’
Her eyelids flutter shut at the comforting touch of Castiel’s hand on her forehead, able to feel the gentle hum of Castiel’s grace just beyond the skin of his hand. It was weird to think that it was searching through her body, taking account of her pulse, her rate of breathing, the smallest sign that something was amiss.
“Are you ready?” Sam’s voice filters through her thoughts. Keeping her eyes firmly shut, she nods her head. She didn’t want to see the needle again. She especially didn’t want to see it going in her neck…
‘Unpleasant’ was not the right word, she very quickly decided. In fact, ‘unpleasant’ was pretty damn far from the word she would use to describe the burning pain that takes over every other sensation in her body. ‘Unpleasant’ was a word used for heartburn, or when you scrape your knee falling off your bike as a kid.
She finds her hands digging into the couch underneath her, gripping onto the soft material in a vice-like grip. She has no doubt that Jody isn’t going to appreciate the gouge marks she makes in the expensive leather with her nails, but that’s a problem for future Claire. Right now, present Claire has to focus on remembering how to breathe, on keeping the scream that wants to burst out from her lungs settled in place, on easing pressure in her jaw as she clenches her teeth in case she ends up biting her tongue.
The needle slides in further and, somehow, the pain gets worse. She didn’t think it could, but oh boy, was she wrong. It’s a damn miracle she’s able to bite back the scream, but even her tightly clenched eyelids were unable to stop the few tears that squeezed their way out. There’s a hand brushing through her hair – likely Jody’s – and another hand gripping onto hers almost as tightly as the other is burrowing into the couch – one she knows for sure is Kaia’s. She almost can’t feel them, but… they’re distractions. They take away from the pain in just the slightest, but quite frankly, she’ll take as much as she can get.
“That’s enough.”
Dean’s voice had never been so relieving to hear, even if it was in that freaky deep voice that sounded like Dean trying – and failing- to mimic Castiel’s. You wouldn’t think the feeling of a needle slipping out of your throat would feel good, but anything was better than the agonizing pain she had just been going through.
“There. It’s over.” Sam’s relieved voice finally gets her to pry her eyes open. The sight of the wispy, cloud-like blue gas shifting around within the syringe is almost mesmerizing to see. That grace was inside her – still inside her, in fact – and she had no idea. She can never feel it, it’s just… there.
Seeing five heads peering down at her was rather jarring, even if she knew they were doing it out of worry for her. “Jeez, could you guys back up a bit? I promise I’m not dying…”
“Technically, she’s telling the truth,” Castiel said, his hand slipping away from her head. “I can’t sense any permanent damage done. You might feel somewhat weak for a few hours, possibly a day, but you should recover fairly quickly.”
“How are you feeling?” Jody asks, the worry in her eyes remaining despite Castiel’s diagnosis. She offers a hand to Claire, who gladly takes it, allowing herself to be pulled up into a sitting position.
“About as well as you can after having a needle in your neck…”
‘I think she takes after me more than you, Cas.’
‘You passing on your sarcastic deflections is not something to be proud of, Dean…’
‘Hell yeah it is. Being honest is for losers.’
‘Huh…. For so long, I worried that Jack was going to take after Lucifer… I should have been more worried he’d take after you.’
‘Damn. Don’t get me wrong, that was a great burn, but also… screw you.’
‘Actually, I was waiting for you to do that.’
‘Ha, that’s… Wait, wha-,’
“This spell of yours better work after all that…” Claire tells Sam, getting one last look at the vial of Castiel’s grace before it joins the other vial of her blood that’s tucked away inside Sam’s duffel.
“Thanks to you, it just might,” Sam responds with a grateful smile.
A flash of blue pulls Claire’s gaze away from Sam, glancing over to see the last second of Castiel before being greeted by eyes she knows belongs to Dean Winchester. She can only grunt in surprise when Dean’s arms are wrapping around her back, yanking her towards in a rather clumsy and awkward hug.
“That’s from both of us,” Dean says quietly in her ear, his arms tightening around her side.
Claire chuckled at the unusual softness Dean was displaying, along with the fact that Dean was very nearly dragging her off the couch with his hug. “You went back into the bad place to get Kaia back, so… only fair I did what I could to get Cas back to you.”
Another laugh bubbled out as she felt the heartfelt hug turn into more of a tense hold, patting Dean’s arm in sympathy at what she knew was going to be an awkward question from Dean once he pulled away from the hug.
“Uh, actually, about that… Me and Cas were kinda wondering…”
“Just try and reduce the number of times you two suck faces around me once you get Cas back,” Claire tells him, much to Dean’s – and Cas’s – horror. “It’s gonna take me a while to not see it as you kissing my dad…”
“I’m not too sure what I just walked into, but it sounds like a juicy topic.”
The new voice in the room gets everyone to jump, those with weapons tucked away pulling them out in a smooth practiced motion, training them on the unexpected newcomer. Sam’s eyes widen over his pistol’s iron sight, lowering the gun instinctively once his brain registers that the woman smirking over at them was someone he knew.
“Rowena?” Sam splutters in surprise, gesturing for Jody to lower her own gun – which she did somewhat reluctantly. “How did you-,”
“Just a heads up deary, your devil's trap has been damaged. Think you might have some little micey’s nibbling away at your floorboard.” Rowena tells Jody with a sweet smile and an equally sweet-sounding voice.
“Who the hell are you?” Jody asks, pistol still held firmly in hand.
“Rowena. As Samuel over there just stated.”
Jody’s eyes narrow at the stranger in her living room. Sam’s judgment was the only reason she had her gun pointed to the floor, and not at this fiery woman. “Okay, I’ll be more specific; what are you?”
“Centuries-old witch. Freshly created damned soul. Demon. The Queen of Hell.” Rowena’s impressively fake friendly smile only widens at the discomfort that washes over Jody with every new title she provides. “Take your pick.”
“Sam...” Jody takes a step back from Rowena, instinctively moving closer to where Claire and Kaia were – nearly bumping into Castiel in the process.
“What are you doing here, Rowena?” Sam asks her, sensing the need to defuse the situation before Jody starts shooting.
“What I said I would do,” Rowena answers, sauntering over the armchair Claire was occupying not long ago and dropping into it like it was her own home. “Imagine my surprise when my demons pick up on an angel's grace on Earth that’s not occupying a vessel. I sent some of my men to investigate and… what do you know, they report back to me that the Winchester’s are involved. I could only assume this is a part of your little plan to save the angel?”
“I have a name,” Castiel grumbles from his spot by the couch, mostly blocking Claire and Kaia from view.
“Oh! I suppose that means Dean’s been placed in the timeout corner for the time being?”
‘…the timeout corner…?’
“If you’re asking me if Dean is currently the one not in possession, then yes.”
“Uh, I’m sorry, you guys are friends with a witch?” Claire leans away from Castiel to try and get a better look at the witch that was currently sitting in her favorite chair.
“Ah, well, you know the saying,” Rowena mused out loud, leaning back against the comfortable pillows of the armchair. “Keep your friends close…”
“Yeah… and I’m guessing you’re a powerful enemy to have?” Claire asks.
“Good instincts, that one,” Rowena notes to Jody.
“You still haven’t explained why you’re here,” Eileen interrupts, bringing Rowena’s attention over to her. “You were able to sense Castiel’s grace and… then what?”
“As I said, I can only assume this is a part of your plan to bring back Castiel here. I did say I’d help, didn’t I?”
“You? Are willing to help them?” Jody asks incredulously.
“Aye. It’s only fair I help them after they got me killed.”
“Um… you say that like you wanted to be killed?” Kaia asks.
“Oh no, not in the moment, heaven’s no. But it turned out that dying was the best thing that ever happened to me. No mother should outlive her child, but… it’s only right that I should take over my son’s throne, isn’t it?”
“Your son? Your son was the former king of-,” Jody stops as her brain makes the connection, looking between Rowena and Sam in disbelief. “Crowley? Crowley was your son?”
“You’re acquainted, I presume?”
Jody huffs out a laugh at that. “If you call trying to kill me on the first date ‘acquainted’, then yeah.”
“Ah, that sounds like my son… Both the ‘killing’ part and the ‘trying’… poor boy had so many ambitions, just always failed to reach them…”
“Are you saying your son ‘trying to kill me’ is an ambition-?!”
“Alright, alright, let's -,” Sam quickly jumped between the two ladies to defuse the tension, sensing an argument that could only end poorly. “Yes, we found something. One of the Men of Letter’s – our grandfather, actually – managed to create a spell with the help of a witch back then, uh… Anikka Whitmore?”
“Ah, Anikka…” Rowena drawls out the witch’s name, shaking her head in what Sam could only assume was fake pity. “Shame what happened to the poor girl… She just needed to help people… had a soft spot, you see… Every witch worth her money knows that helping the needy just attracts unwanted attention. She found that out far too late, I’m afraid…”
“Yeah, we… we found the pictures…” Sam says with a wince. “Actually, I have the spell on me right now…”
Sam hurriedly searched through his jacket pockets, pulling out the little folded square of delicate paper and rushing over to Rowena to hand it over. Rowena took the paper with careful hands, long nails unfolding the old paper before taking in the written spell.
“Hmm… Ah, that makes sense… perhaps a bit risky using angel's grace, but… the human blood should help to temper the grace’s volatile power…”
“Does it… does it seem like it will work?” Eileen asks, unable to stop herself from worrying over the fragile paper crumbling away in the witch’s hands.
“I don’t see why not, considering it says here that the experiment was ‘technically’ a success… just not in the way this poor lad was expecting…” Rowena tells them, handing the spell back over to Sam – much to Eileen’s relief. “Except…”
‘Ah, dammit. Of course there’s an ‘except’. Another ‘but’, or ‘however’. Always something… ’
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, boys. But I have to say it. The amount of grace is… it’s a problem. The grace is essentially the power of this spell. It’s… it’s almost like the glue that puts the body back together. Creates new atoms, replicating DNA from the blood, then binds it all together. And since you said Castiel doesn’t have much of his grace left…”
Rowena’s sentence drifts off at the sight of Dean’s eyes flaring blue, watching as Castiel fades away behind green eyes. Those blank, unoccupied eyes quickly shift to ones of worry, of impending doom as Dean Winchester once again takes control of his body. “It’s not going to work…?”
“I’m not saying that,” Rowena said gently, keeping her gaze focused on Dean alone despite the four other pairs of eyes staring at her. “It’s hard to know for sure when I have never performed the spell myself – as well as it only being done once. There’s every chance this could work with the grace you have, but…”
“Don’t sugar coat it for me,” Dean insisted, his voice coming out weaker than he intended. “We need to know the risks.”
“If it’s not enough… the spell will break apart mid-way through. The body will begin to disintegrate back to nothing as the grace burns away, and once it's empty? That will be it. Castiel will be gone.”
“Is there anything you can do?” Dean asks. Though, ‘pleads’ would probably be a more apt word… “Something that can boost the spell?”
“There’s nothing I can do myself, no. The spell is simple enough, able to be cast by whoever. I’m afraid it won’t matter who casts it, as the power of the spell all comes down to one ingredient: the grace.”
“What about using another angel's grace, or-?”
Rowena stops Dean's blabbers with a shake of her head. “It has to be the grace of the angel that possessed the vessel. Unless another angel possessed the vessel?”
“Uh… that would be Lucifer…” Sam mumbled uncomfortably.
“Ah. Probably best not to go down that route…”
“So… how likely is it that… that this isn’t going to work?” Dean asks Rowena. “What’s the chance that…”
‘That I’m going to lose him,’ Dean thinks the words his mouth can’t voice.
“There's a chance,” Rowena's answer doesn’t make him feel any better. “But you want my honest opinion? Make sure you say all you need to before the spell. Don’t leave regrets.”
Rowena stood up from the armchair, feeling an unusual pang of sympathy in her chest at the crushed look on the elder Winchester’s face. “If you do make it back to the land of the living, Castiel? I expect an invitation to the wedding.”
And with that, Rowena was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving behind a room of uneasy stillness. Perhaps, in another world, Dean would roll his eyes at Rowena’s parting comment. He'd brush off whatever snarky comment Sam would add, perhaps even make a joke of his own, pretending he wasn’t picturing what that would be like; a private wedding, most likely, small and familiar, just the people he cares about most.
He doesn’t want to picture that in this world, though. Maybe even just a few hours ago, he’d let himself delve into such dangerous indulgences, of things he never thought he'd have. Hell, things he didn’t even know he wanted.
Now, though… what was the use of imagining such things, when in a few weeks he might just be falling asleep clutching the trench coat of who was once the husband in those dreams?
Next Chapter - - - >
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gisachi · 4 years
Note
For the writing ask can you do number 4 please 😍💜
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Hello, thank you for patiently waiting 🤗 I hope you don’t mind that I combined your asks since it’s the same prompt. ^^ It’s pretty obvious by now that I’m a sucker for College AUs and not only that but I feel like I have this thing for Drunk!Ran lmao if I’m not mistaken this will be the fourth time that I write her character under the influence of alcohol. I’m sorry!! She’s just so fun to write like this! No holds barred when it comes to saying what she wants. Also this kinda went longer than I expected so I put the rest under the cut. Anyway, here it is and I hope you like it!
4. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose. (2,125 words)
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“Ne, Sonoko, what does a kiss on the nose mean?”
Sonoko finishes her glass and sets it down the table, its loud clatter punctuating Ran’s unexpected question. Her eyes narrow, studying Ran carefully like a professor to her student, but bereft of any form of judgment.
“Heeeh,” she cocks an eyebrow, “so Shinichi’s been doing that? For how long?”
“Since the start of this year…” she replies unthinkingly, only to turn beet red after realizing her blunder half a second later. “I-I didn’t say it was him?!”
“Ran, really? You think you can hide that fact from me?” she exclaims loud and proud, brandishing her signature grin of victory that makes Ran shrink in her seat and their other girl friends chant their excited ‘oooh’s’ around the table.
“Seriously, though. It’s about time he does that,” Kaede remarks. “Ran-chan, I only met you and Shinichi-kun here in uni but the first time I saw you both I knew right then you’re bound to get married.”
“Oh please, they’ve been married since 4.” Sonoko drawls. “I don’t know if they’re playing oblivious but everybody with eyes knows they’re practically married. Even their parents.”
“Right? Who on earth would religiously walk the other home even if their dorms are in opposite directions? Even my boyfriend doesn’t do that!” Minami adds.
“Mou, minna! Just answer my question!” Ran squeaks, torn between being flustered for what she has asked or annoyed at her friends’ embarrassing side comments, the truth of which she cannot find in her to deny.
“Okay. So since you’re such a helpless little angel, let me tell you Ran that you are surely Shinichi’s object of committed affection.”
“He finds you cute.”
“He cares for you deeply.”
“All of these, you mean like a sister or a friend?”
“Ran! As in romantically! Shinichi likes you! No— he’s in love with you! Goodness!” Minami runs her hand over her face. “How you’re so smart and so dense at the same time, I don’t understand.”
“B-but it doesn’t make sense!” Ran defends. “I mean if he uh, l-likes me... then why not say it straight to my face...we tell each other everything. We’re best friends.”
Kaede pats her shoulder like she’s consoling a child. “That’s exactly why. You’re best friends. Perhaps he’s shy of admitting his real feelings yet. So he conveys it through nose kisses instead, hoping you’ll get it.”
“More importantly though,” Sonoko leans to her, “what do you feel about it, Ran?”
Overcome by shyness, she bites her lower lip to restrain any slip of tongue that may give her away completely, although she knows deep down that she’s still unsure of her response. Her friends think he’s in love with her. Though she trusts their judgment, she cannot, for the life of her, reconcile with the idea of her and Shinichi being more than best friends by title, even if by fact they already are. The fear of uncertainty bothers her. She’s known him to be a man of his actions and words. So when he does something a guy friend won’t normally do like kiss her on the nose and without him clarifying what it actually means, she’s befuddled. Actions may speak louder than words but that doesn’t make the latter any less important.
Seeming to understand her struggle, the trio share a common look of agreement that leads them to shove her one glass half filled with alcohol.
“We got you, girl. Want a drink?”
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One glass in and Ran feels like she’s a completely different person from the woman who sat in that same chair an hour ago. She feels lightheaded and floaty. She also feels more talkative than usual, her mouth on its own accord ranting on and on about this certain detective, while her friends listen with utmost interest.
“...and when he did that the first time, I remember it was the start of school after holidays, I was shocked, really shocked, ‘cuhs he did it sooo quickly and with such a straight face and...ugh god.”
“And what? That’s when you realize you want to marry him for real?” Sonoko wiggles her brows while Kaede and Minami guffaws.
“NO! Shut! I-”
“Speak of the devil.”
The main subject of their conversation arrives, which, as they know it, means that Ran’s about to be picked up. That’s just how those two are. Still, that doesn’t stop Sonoko and Minami from offering him a shot, which he doesn’t decline.
“Sorry for taking her away from you so early. You know how her mother blames me whenever she goes home late.” Shinichi stands behind Ran and rubs the back of his head, somewhat apologetic for ruining their night out.
“It’s okay, Shinnn. We understand how strict your in-law is,” Minami coos and waves her glass in the air. “Oh, and sorry by the way if we made Ran-chan drink.”
“She drank?” Disregarding Minami’s first statement, Shinichi looks at the three then at Ran, who flashes him a wide goofy smile.
“She needs it for our session today, sorry Shinichi!” Sonoko makes a peace sign. “Only a half glass, so she’s probably just a tiiiiny bit disoriented. And she already drank water.”
Though not mad, Shinichi doesn’t hide his surprise. Ran only drinks juice whenever she hangs out with the girls, a fact he has known since they entered college. Now in their second year, this is the first time he actually hears her drink alcohol. He doesn’t mind at all because she’s in good company anyway. After bidding the others good night, he guides her out the pub.
The walk back to Ran’s apartment consists of her talking about her day half the time and the other half complaining about how she feels weird being too talkative. Shinichi walks alongside her, enjoying Ran’s newfound vibrancy as he listens, his eyes smiling with his lips and Ran forgets talking for a second because she nearly trips and falls after catching herself getting mesmerized by his beautiful smiling face yet again.
Whenever he brings her home, Shinichi doesn’t go up her floor, only to the lobby at most, but tonight is an exception. He needs to ensure that Ran makes it inside her apartment. He watches her fumble for her keys and when she finally succeeds in opening her door, he says his good night. He is about to leave when Ran tugs on his sleeve.
“Heey,” she starts. “Arentcha forgetting something?”
“Forgetting what?”
She hiccups, doesn't say anything as she drags a finger to the tip of her nose. “... Right here.”
Shinichi stares at her, startled.
“You always do that… why not now?”
“I’m... quite surprised you remember trivial details like that even when you’re like this.”
“Weell! It’s not trivial!” she puffs her cheeks, “At least for me.”
“What does that mean?” He smiles, facing her completely.
“Iunno? ‘Cause we’ve been tight since forever? And you’ve been doing that since the year started? At least be consistent? And I like it when you do that? What else?"
She catches his pupils dilate for a split second and back.
“Ran,” he suppresses a little laugh. “Stop that, okay.” Then he inches closer. “Now I kinda want to give Sonoko an earful for turning you into this shameless talking machine."
Shinichi bends a little to level with her face. “Do me a favor and look yourself in the mirror once you’re in, yeah?” One hand is in his pocket and the other he uses to part loose locks dangling over her right eye and cheek, giving him an unobstructed view of her very pink, almost swelling face. “You’re a mess.”
「A kiss on the nose means he cares for you deeply.」
“I’m nooot. You are,” she lightly punches his chest, to which he just sniggers.
“I am what?”
“You’re the messed up one. You mess me up.”
“Again, what does that even mean?”
“As far as I know, you’re the detective here. Figure that out yourself will ya.”
He gives her this tiny smirk and Ran barely catches it.
“I don’t know, Ran. Perhaps... hearing it straight from you is much better.”
She tries to keep her eyes open but they burn so much they sheen with tears, and the alcohol’s to blame. “Huh?”
“Nothing.” He chuckles, his timbre doing things to her heart that she cannot resist stealing him a glance despite the aching throb in her head.
Damn it, he’s so annoying but so beautiful, his eyes are so bright, his cheeks so rosy—
“Pfft aren’t you blushiiiing!”
“Shut up.” And he plants a little kiss on her nose.
「A kiss on the nose means that he finds you cute.」
“There. Happy?”
While that effectively shuts her up, the fleeting drop of his lips landing as gently as a falling petal on her nose has her instinctively following his head with her own, honest in wanting another feel.
“Wait no! Again. But sloooower, pretty please?”
Her grip on his sleeve tightens, and she wonders if it’s possible for the erratic drumming of her pulse to be conducted through such fabric as to make the man in front of her aware of her state. She sounds so needy and clingy, and a part of her wants to barf and slap herself into sobriety, but a part of her also insists to just keep going.  And the latter is winning.
“... You really are something, you know that?”
As swift as the night, he slowly leans his head and she closes her eyes, her senses becoming hyper aware of how open and vulnerable her entire being is before his presence. Her heart thumps mercilessly against her chest.
「A kiss on the nose means you’re his object of committed affection.」
...
What if he’s my...
The voice at the back of her head tells her to reciprocate. Which she eventually goes for as she lifts her chin, aiming to kiss his nose right before he does.
What she doesn’t expect is for their lips to brush and suddenly there is spark and both of them retract fast.
Sky-crystal eyes meet azure. For that brief second, she thinks she’s stepped one foot beyond their demarcation line, and she searches her mind and heart for that doubt and dread and fear brought about by an accidental venture to an unknown territory, yet she finds nothing. Nothing of that sort.
Instead, she feels like she has just dipped her foot on the ocean, the expanse of which scares her, but the moment the water touches her skin she discovers that it isn’t so bad and fear disappears and all that’s left is the genuine willingness to feel more of its glorious warmth, to let it consume her, to submerge into its depths.
And so she doesn’t push him away when he cups her left cheek and closes their gap; nor does he say anything when she steps on tiptoes and eyes flutter close as her lips purposely seek his. It doesn’t last long, just enough to acquaint herself with his softness, his shape; she feels him chapped from the spring cold, but really she doesn’t mind.
A kiss on the nose is sweet.
But a kiss on the lips is...
They separate as soundlessly as they merge. Both remain silent for a good minute, forehead against each other, his thumb brushing her cheek like it’s responsible for painting the crimson colors across it.
Shinichi purses his lips, before stepping back and locking eyes with hers, shyly.
“So, uh...Tomorrow. 10AM. I’ll be here. Please get a good night’s rest and I-... We’ll sort this out, properly...when you’re ready and sober. Ran.”
For the last time that night, he plants a light kiss on her nose and departs, leaving her in a trance by her doorstep.
W-Wait, Shinichi, I—!
Her eyes scan the corridor, but he’s already gone.
I’m...
Her head floats and so do her feet as she retreats to her room, all while her fingers trace her lips, trying to replicate his lips through them but she isn’t taking it. Even in this state, she cannot find the exact words to describe how he truly makes her feel. She recalls how their conversation ran. Her honest words. His vague replies. His sweet actions. Her eager response.
Their shared kiss.
Shoot. That makes everything even more confusing, doesn’t it?
She falls with her back on the bed, still in a state of trance. Reaching for her phone deep in her bag, she presses a button for speed dial, with one intent in mind.
“Hello, you’ve reached Suzuki Sonoko. I’m currently unable to take your call, so please leave your message after the beep.”
“Ne, Sonoko, what does a kiss on the lips mean?”
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Text
99 Problems: Part One
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,846
Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!
Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.
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The wound on your side keeps bleeding no matter how much magic you use. Sam’s injuries are minor, Dean just barely got away, but you got the worst of it. After all, you’re the reason why you three are in this mess to begin with. Blood covers your left hand as it puts pressure on the wound, and your right focuses the magic to work within you. Blue magic strings from your fingertips and into the wound, and you watch as it slowly closes. You would tend to the brothers’ wounds, but yours is more pressing. Dean races down the street without looking back in fear the demons are right behind him.
“Drive faster, Dean,” you grunt.
“I can’t! Are you both okay?”
“Yeah, I’m amazing,” Sam grits.
“I’ll be fine. Why the hell were there so many demons? You two ever see that many?”
“No way, not in one place,” Sam shakes his head.
Even though the surface of your wound is sealed, you know there could be internal damage which is why you keep siphoning magic into it.
“What the hell?” Dean mutters.
“Sam, come here. Let me fix you,” you offer and scoot closer to the younger Winchester.
Sam takes his hand away from his bloody shoulder, and you reach out to touch it when Dean slams on his brakes. You were about to tear him a new one when you saw the barricade up ahead. It is up in flames, covering the entire stretch of road which means there is no possible way for you three to get around it. Someone had either did this deliberately or it was a freak accident, but there has to be another way around it. Dean starts to back up the car when the windows shatter.
Demons from all sides of the car break the windows to try and grab it the three of you. Dean is prepared for this just about as much as you and Sam are, which isn’t really a lot. They try and grab whatever they can manage, and just start pulling. A demon reaches into the car, but you throw small balls of magic at him to get him to back off. The impact makes him wince in pain, and you keep trying to hold them off. You’ve learned a lot about your powers ever since you found out you were pregnant. You can do a lot more with the energy that’s been sitting inside of you.
Yes, you plan on telling Dean, but now is not the right time for it. It’s not fair you’ve been keeping this secret from him, and it’s time you step up and take responsibility for your actions. Before the demons could do anymore damage, about half a dozen men and women show up in a big vehicle with fire truck hoses. The main leader start spraying the demons with water, but when you see their skin start to sizzle, you know it’s holy water. Where did these guys come from? How do they know about demons? You don’t recognize them as hunters, so who are they?
The demon screams in pain as they release you and the brothers and move away to try and get to safety. The main leaders starts to perform an exorcism in Enochian, and now you’re curious as hell. Where did they learn the language? Who are these people? You get out of the car just as the demons fall to the ground. Black smoke pours out of their mouths and disappears into the air.
“Well that’s something you don’t see every day,” Dean chuckles.
“You three alright?”
“Peachy.”
“Be careful, it’s dangerous out there,” he warns.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second,” you interrupted and got out of the vehicle.
“No need to thank us.”
“No, hold up a second! Who are you?”
“I’m Rob. We’re the Sacrament Lutheran Militia.”
“I’m sorry—the what?” Dean inquires.
“I hate to tell you this, but those were demons and this is the Apocalypse. So… buckle up.”
“Yeah, we know. We’re hunters.”
“Prove it,” Rob scoffs.
You take a quick look at Dean, and he rolls his eyes lightly, but opens the trunk of his car up. There is nothing but an empty trunk, but as soon as he pulls up the cloth flap, all of your weapons are on display. Three of the important men take a look at the weapons to see if you three are legit.
“Looks like we’re in the same line of business,” Sam comments.
“And among colleagues. That’s a police-issued shotgun,” Dean motions you the shotgun in Rob’s hands. “That truck is, uh… inspired. Where’d you guys pick up all this shit?”
“You know, you pick things up along the way,” one of the other men shrug.
“Guys, come on. This whole corner of the state is nuts with demon omens. We just want to help. That’s all,” you sigh.
“We’re on the same team here. Just talk to us,” Dean tries to convince them.
“Follow us,” Rob nods and heads back to his truck with his friends.
Dean shuts his trunk and locks it before all three of you climb inside the car. Once Rob and his friends get inside their car, he takes the lead through the forest on a back road that Dean didn’t see earlier. The forest is dense, the trees are thick, and there’s a little bit of fog, but it hides the road well enough from cars that are passing by. Once Rob makes it out of the forest you can see a small town up ahead barricaded with barbed wire.
There are many men with guns surrounding the place, and you can’t help but think what might’ve happened here. They let both cars through the gate and close it once you’re safely inside. Dean Parks off to the side and gets out to see what exactly is going on. Everyone seems to be gathering at the local church, which is why you three are heading inside.
“Dylan, it’s a church. Headphones off,” an older woman says to one of the men with Rob.
He’s a bit younger, maybe about early twenties, but still too young for this kind of work. Well, you started off way younger, but that was under different circumstances.
“Yes mom,” he sighs and does as he’s told.
In front of the church are two men with guns, and in between them is a devil's trap. Everyone who passes through it passes the test, but it doesn’t stop them from giving you and the brothers weird looks. You can tell they don’t take strangers lightly here. Not with all of the protection they feel the need to take. It’s best if they don’t know you’re a witch, so you keep quiet about that part of yourself.
Walking inside the church, you notice that it’s not that different from outside. The pews are full, and there are three couples in front. It looks like there might be a wedding going on, but you can’t be so sure about that.
“Who would have thought the Apocalypse could be so romantic? Marriage, family—it’s a blessing. Especially in times like this. So hold on to that,” the pastor says.
“A wedding?” you whisper. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. We’ve had eight so far this week,” Paul, one of Rob’s men, confirms.
Apart from the creepy ceremony happening, every person sitting in the aisle seat of each pew holds a shotgun like Rob’s. What the fuck is going on here? It looks like the pastor is the main bitch around here, so you patiently wait for the ceremony to be over to approach him. As soon as it is, the three couples leave the church as people throw confetti above them. They can pretend this is a real wedding all they want, but it’s not.
“So Rob tells me you three hunt demons,” the pastor says when he approaches you.
You look over at the man but pause. He is decked out in weapon gear from the thigh holster to a shoulder one. This man may be a preacher, but he’s definitely something else.
“Uh, yes sir.”
“Please, call me Gideon. But you missed a few.”
“Yeah, tell us about it. Any idea why they’re here?” you ask.
“They sure seem to like us, though. Follow me, gentlemen, lady,” he nods.
He leads you back into the now empty church toward the back. There is a door that when you walk down the stairs, it leads to the basement.
“So you’re a preacher?” Dean asks.
“Not what you expected, huh?”
“Well, dude, you’re packing.”
“Strange times,” he shrugs and opens the door.
There are people of all ages and backgrounds inside. There are stations where people work and do different things. At one table, there is a little girl making salt rounds, and you try to hold in your initial shock. Everyone is doing something, and there isn’t a twiddling thumb anywhere.
“Is that a twelve-year-old packing salt rounds?” you ask.
“Everybody pitches in.”
“So, the whole church?” Sam wonders.
“The whole town.”
“A whole town full of hunters. I don’t know whether to run screaming or buy a condo,” Dean shudders.
“Well, the demons were killing us. We had to do something.”
“Why not call the National Guard?” you ask.
“We were told not to.”
“By who?” you ask but receive no answer.
“Come on, Padre. You’re as locked and loaded as we’ve ever seen. Plus, that exorcism was Enochian. Someone’s telling you something.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I, uh, I can’t discuss it,” he sighs.
“Are you talking to angels?” you gasp.
“Look—”
“Dad, it’s okay,” a young woman says from behind you three.
You turn around, and you immediately get bad vibes off her. There is definitely something wrong with her.
“Leah—”
“It’s Sam and Dean Winchester, and Y/N Singer. They’re safe. I know all about them.”
“The angels?” you ask. “There’s only one species who know Enochian.”
“Yes, the angels,” she nods with a smile.
“Awesome,” Dean scoffs.
“Don’t worry, they can’t see you here. The marks on your ribs, right?”
“So, you know all about us because angels told you?” Sam wants to confirm.
“Yes. Among other things.”
“Like the snappy little exorcism spell?” you ask.
“And they show me where the demons are going to be, before it happens, and how to fight back,” she nods in response to your question.
“Never been wrong. Not once. She’s very special,” Pastor Gideon goes to his daughter's side with pride.
“Let me guess. Before you see something, you get a really bad migraine, and see flashing lights?” Dean asks.
“How’d you know?”
“You’re not the first prophet we’ve met,” you give her a bittersweet smile.
“Excuse me for a second,” Pastor Gideon apologizes and takes his daughter off to the side to speak with her.
“There’s something not right with her.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks.
“She’s not human. I don’t know what she is, but it’s not human.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her,” he assures you.
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huntertales · 4 years
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Part Three: Indecent Proposal. (Devil May Care S09E02)
Episode Summary: In the aftermath of the fall, Sam and the reader are taken by surprise when they learn Crowley is still alive–and stuffed in the trunk of the Impala. A temporary situation before the reader and the Winchesters relocate him to the Men of Letters dungeon. Kevin is anything but enthusiastic about seeing the king of hell under the same roof as him. However the three hunters want the demon close, hoping Crowley will provide useful information about others of his kind. Meanwhile, Abaddon re-emerges and plans to take over hell. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 7,825. (Oops. This got away from me lol)
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"The hell happened here?"
The location Abaddon led all of you to was a complete ghost town; rundown buildings overtaken by weeds, the ground beneath your fear was nothing more than dirt. It must’ve been decades since it had seen any form of life. You weren’t that surprised to see the demon lured you into a deserted part of the state like this. Better for her to have you all to herself, letting you run around while she waited for you to fall into the trap she set. 
You wondered what came of the town and the people who once lived here that caused it to turn into an abandoned wasteland. Rarely do you see towns and buildings nowadays to be empty like this without a good explanation behind it. She picked this place for a reason, and not just because it was the perfect spot for whatever she had planned in that head of hers.
“A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks.” Sam explained to the both of you the town’s history. You let out a slight noise from hearing that piece of information you weren’t expecting. “Guess it’s still contaminated.” 
"Wait, so this whole place is still poisonous?" You found yourself asking out of caution for your own safety. Sam nodded his head to answer your question. You rolled your eyes, you should’ve figured that much. No reason why Abaddon chose this place. If she didn't kill you, the leftover pollution lingering the air eventually would if you were exposed to it long enough. "It's like our very own Chernobyl." 
Dean didn’t find your words comforting. He found himself thinking of a certain place on his body where he didn’t want to be tainted from any chemicals that might still be polluting the air. You turned your head at the exact moment to see him lower his hand to shield his private area. You let out a scoff and titled your head slightly in disbelief at how he was acting.
“That’s not gonna help.” Sam warned his brother.
“It doesn’t hurt.” Dean muttered. 
You rolled your eyes and lightly whacked his arm away to get the man focused on searching this entire town to find the two other hunters. Your hopefulness that they were still breathing made you disregard the possible contamination you were about to walk right into. You put your life on the line almost everyday with all sorts of threats, a little pollution never hurt anyone until the long way down the line. You kept yourself vigilant for any possible surprise attacks Abaddon and her goons had planned as you traveled deeper into the town. 
You and the boys managed to cover some distance as you kept walking through empty looking buildings with windows still intact and doors most likely unlocked from the rush people must've been in to get out of here. You checked a few buildings and scoped them out to see if anyone was inside, but all the souls that seemed to be around at the moment were just the three of you. You continued to follow behind the boys as you looked around the place, cautiously eyeing the edges of buildings and looking behind your shoulder for any possible demon trying to make a sneak attack. It seemed that you were still alone. However you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you heard a noise, it sounded like shuffling in a building not too far from where the three of you stood. 
You followed behind the boys as Sam drew out his gun for any possible attackers when he approached the diner to inspect inside. The younger man kicked down the door with one swift kick and stepped inside, he took one look around the place to see there was no active threat around. The only people that were inside were the two hunters Abaddon had kidnapped. Sam lowered his weapon and called for you and Dean's attention from what he found. You made your way into the place to see the sight for yourself. While you were happy to see the Irv and Tracy were unharmed, you couldn't take anything for face value, You quietly shut the door behind you before taking one glance around the outside to make sure the coast was still clear from anyone besides the five of you.
"Irv? Hey." Dean pulled off the gag from the older hunter's mouth to give the man a chance to talk freely from the question he asked a few seconds later. "Where's Abaddon?"
"Abaddon's been torturing hunters." Irv said. "She's been trying to get intel on you kids." 
"Do you know why?" Sam asked. 
"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card. Now," Irv veered the conversation to something more important other than trying to figure out the demon's motives for why she was doing all of this. "Do you wanna make it with the rescue or what?"
"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?"
You wanted to believe that Abaddon just kidnapped the two and left it at that, but you knew from personal experience that things like her never made things easy. You pulled out the flask of holy water from your back pocket and twisted off the cap, you tugged off the cloth from Tracy's mouth and poured the liquid into her mouth. You watched as she swallowed without a problem and gave you an annoyed glare from the dramatics. She looked young, probably no more than someone in her early twenties at most. She must’ve been new to the game. 
“Happy?” She asked you.
“Sorry about that.” You apologized for the cautious steps you had to take around them. Tracy’s glare seemed to harden when she heard the sarcastic tone lined in your voice. “Gotta be safe than sorry.” 
"Don't worry about it." Irv said. At least the older hunter understood you couldn’t let them free without running a quick test to make sure they were still human without running around in their skin, waiting to jump up and rip your guts out. "Last thing you need is us popping black eyes." 
Dean took it upon himself to free the hunters from the chairs they were tied to after he took out a pocket knife and cut them free. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as they stretched their aching muscles from sitting in the same position for so long. Sam decided it would have been the perfect time to introduce himself to the younger woman. 
"You're Tracy, right? I'm Sam Winchester." He said. When you noticed Tracy��s gaze had wandered over to you after Sam shifted his finger over to you, you forced yourself to give the woman a half smile and a wave before tucking your arm back where it was before. “And that’s Y/N Y/L/N.” 
“Good for you.” Tracy responded with a lackluster tone, as if that name was supposed to mean anything to her. Your expression shifted slightly from the attitude she was giving the both of you, suddenly looking as if you were boring her with your mere presence. 
“She’s new. We did a shifter job back in Sacramento together." Irv explained how he knew the younger woman. “Smart, but got a mouth on her."
“Sam and I know a little something about that.” Dean’s said. You rolled your eyes when you noticed his eyes wandered over to you to drive his point home. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s gear up.” 
You got to work with unloading all the supplies you had brought with you to take down Abaddon and her demons. Ruby’s special knife was your favorite weapon to use against a demon. While it might not be able to kill a knight of hell, something you learned from the first encounter you had with Abaddon, it worked well on others you had come in contact with without a problem. Angel blades were also useful and trusty to have on hand. You had enough ammunition to take down dozens of demons with the special carvings you had made. Might not be able to kill them, but they locked those suckers in place so you could take them down once and for all. 
You threw back a canister of spray paint when Dean took out another gun and set it down on the countertop with the rest of the weapons you had lined up. It appeared to you that you had just about everything you needed to take down the knight of hell once and for all. 
“All right, we got Jesus juice, guns loaded with devil’s trap bullets. Shoot a demon, put him on lockdown.” Dean listed off a few of the weapons Tracy and Irv were free to pick from to arm themselves for the fight ahead. He picked up a silver blade to swiftly flip the weapon in his hand with ease. “The angel blade works.” 
You found your concentration breaking away from the conversation when you heard something in the near distance catch your attention. You turned around in your spot and looked over to the window as Sam jumped up from the table he was sitting on top of and peered outside to see if he could see who caused the noise. The younger Winchester’s expression fell when he caught sight of two demons possessing those soldiers making their way to where you were. 
“They’re coming.” Sam announced. 
“Good.” Dean said, seeming ready for the fight ahead. 
You made your way over to the window and pushed down a few of the blinds to get a better look for yourself. You spotted the same demons Sam had pointed out just a few seconds prior, but he failed to mention they hadn’t come here empty handed. It seemed Abaddon had chosen those soldiers for a reason. You looked over your shoulder to break the news that made things slightly more complicated for all of you. “They’ve got assault rifles, Dean.” 
“Okay, less good.” The older Winchester noted. 
You were pretty sure the whole “don’t bring a knife to a gunfight applied to this situation a little too perfectly. You stepped away from the window and made your way back over to the counter in some kind of attempt to figure out how to get out of here. Luckily the demons didn’t know just yet where you were, they probably knew you were here from the parked Impala on the outskirts of the town. Irv wondered how you and the boys were going to get yourselves out of this one. You’ve been in a situation like this enough times to know that you couldn't risk the chance of sneaking out the back without arousing suspicion. You needed something to distract the demons to give you enough time to bolt. And what a better way to give the illusion that you were stupid enough to go up against them.
All of you packed up your things after arming up with weapons to protect yourselves in the case those demons weren't alone. You anxiously waited behind with the others while Dean was still back at the diner, setting up your phone after you got the brilliant idea to lure the demons into a trap with a recording of the older Winchester's voice on loop calling out the monsters, luring them to an empty diner, all of you long gone. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Dean making his way back to the four of you after setting up the phone like you told him to do. 
“All right. We got to flank seal team douche in there, so, Irv, you and me will go left.” Dean said, coming up with a plan for a way to get out of here alive. “The rest of you go right."
You nodded your head at the instructions without much thought and looked over at Sam, both of you ready to start moving. You took a few steps over to Tracy and without much thought placed a hand on her shoulder to get her moving, however it seemed that was the worst thing you could have done. Suddenly you felt yourself stumbling backwards after Tracy turned around and shoved you off of her, hissing at you to get away from her. You were stunned at what just happened, Sam was even taken back himself when she threw daggers at the man when he tried to go even near her. Tracy had given you attitude before, you thought it was because she was pissed off at the fact she was roped into your problems. But she was staring at you like you were the kind of monster that had gotten her into this situation. 
“Okay, that’s it.” You couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself snapping back at the younger woman with an abundance of frustration from how she had been treating you since you met her. There was no reason for the attitude. Tracy responded by continuing to stare at you with the same disgusted glare. “Look, kid, I am not in the mood.”
“Whoa.” The older Winchester was quick to notice the sudden shift in mood from the reaction Tracy got out of you. He observed the three of you slowly to try and figure out what happened to have caused this. “What’s the problem?” 
“My family’s dead because of them.” Tracy's reason took you and Sam both by surprise. Your hardening glare slowly began to change at her confession, the younger Winchester was left wondering for the few seconds of silence that fell between the woman’s confession to figure out how that could have possibly been his fault. Both of you had done some pretty terrible things in the past. There was no denying that. But to have murdered someone in cold blood? You swore you never went that far. And you didn’t. Just the mistake you had made of freeing Lucifer came with more consequences than you realized. “I watched a demon slaughter my parents, and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How a couple of dumb kids let Lucifer out of his cage.” 
You pressed your lips together and moved your gaze somewhere other than Tracy. Sam couldn't help himself when he stared at the younger woman with a guilty expression at the actions he knew were all of his fault. He was the reason why Lucifer was freed from the cage. He was the reason why her parents were slaughtered. He wanted to apologize for the pain he caused her, but right now wasn't the time to do so. Dean was quick to switch things up, deciding to have Tracy go with him and let Irv tag along instead. You swallowed down your own heavy conscience in favor of getting Tracy and Irv out of here. Sam remained where he was for a few seconds while his brother and Tracy went off. You placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, nodding your head for him to get moving. 
The three of you went on your journey of heading into the right side of town like Dean told you to do so. Most of the journey was in complete silence, you following behind Sam as Irv chose to linger behind the line that formed. Sam had the demon knife in his head at the ready while your loaded gun remained tucked in the waistband of your jeans. You didn't know why, but you found the confession Tracy made lingering in the back of your mind. From the way she looked at you. How she told you both that you were the reason why her parents were dead. You carried the burden around what happened back at that church on your shoulders every single day. If you could change the past, you would in a heartbeat. You even tried to fix your mistakes...but all that came of it was more mistakes on your part. 
"Kids, you copacetic?" Irv's question broke the silence between all of you. Sam nodded his head as you did the same a few moments later. You stopped behind a building and looked over at the older hunter, wondering to yourself why he wanted to know such a thing. “Good. Now hand me that toothpick and you two get Dean and Tracy—you beat feet out of here.” 
“What?” Sam sounded nothing more than confused as to what the man was suggesting. It sounded like a suicide mission, because it was. There was no way in hell you were letting Irv in there by himself with all those demons with one knife and no backup to help. 
“I’m going in there alone.” Irv said. “I’ll buy you two as much time as I can.” 
“Irv, that’s death.” Sam told the hunter. 
“Yeah, well, it’s what I got coming. It’s my fault, Sam.” Irv’s confession wasn't what you were expecting to come out of the man's mouth. You looked at him a little funny from what he was implying, wondering how that could be such a thing. There was more to the story that the hunter withheld from you until now. "I was in some dive and I was sloppy and lonely and I met some girl, and the next thing you know, I'm strapped to some bed and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted.”
“‘She’ who?” You questioned the man.
“Abaddon.” The name that fell out of the hunter’s mouth made you sink your shoulders down in disappointment. Sam took the news the same as you. Irv was distraught with the things he had done against his own will, but there was only so much a man could take before breaking. “I gave ‘em up. Pete, Tracy—I gave ‘em all up. So you hand me that blade and let me do what I got to do, or so help me—” 
Before the man could finish the argument to get what was coming to him and die with some dignity after the wrongs he had made, it seemed death came to him sooner than he was anticipating. You felt a sudden gasp of surprise escape from your mouth at what happened in the matter of seconds. You didn't realize Irv had been shot until you saw him lying on the ground with a bleeding wound in his chest. Sam quickly grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you closer to him when he figured out what was going on. You felt your back collide with the brick wall as another shot went off. The demon who was trying to take you down must’ve been a sharp shooter. You and Sam quickly drew out your own guns, knowing a simple knife shared between the both of you wasn’t gonna cut it. 
Sam slowly inched himself closer to the edge of the wall and peered out with his weapon to see where the demon was. He managed to spot him sitting on a rooftop straight ahead, he took his chance by firing off a few rounds until he managed to hit a bullseye into the scope. When Sam tried to aim for the demon next, that’s when you made a run for it, Sam following behind right after you. You ran for cover in the nearest building that you found and pushed the door open with your body, not even bothering to think there might be someone inside waiting for you. You didn't come into that thought until you saw someone pressing their shoe against your wrist that was holding your gun. You looked up to see the barrel of a gun staring back down at you and the smile of a demon to greet you. 
“Boo.” The demon taunted you. 
+ + +
Dean couldn’t help himself when he thought back to what Tracy had said about her parents. The situation of freeing Lucifer came with a ripple effect that felt like it was never going to end. When all of you thought the dust had settled and things could go back to somewhat normal, there was always a small wave to come creeping back up. Tracy had every right to be pissed off at what happened to her parents. Hunters got into this lifestyle without much of a choice, almost always it was because of some sort of tragedy that dragged them into this lifestyle. You and the boys knew the story. It was your lives that lead you to this point. The reason you made the choices you did. 
You and Sam made mistakes with terrible consequences. There was no denying that factor. But so did Dean. Irv most likely would confess that he had nightmares from his past choices that kept him up at night. Everyone does. He was sure Tracy would make some along the way. In the moment, before everything falls apart, you feel like it was the right thing to do. You don’t realize how wrong you are until you’re faced with the mistakes of your actions that you can’t go back from. 
“Okay, I think they’re still inside. We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one.” Dean gave the layout of his plan while him and Tracy slowly made their way closer to the edge of a gafettied up wall. She listened without much as a peep. He adjusted his grip around the knife and looked over at her for a second. "Listen, for the record, Sam and Y/N weren't the only ones who thought they were doing right and watched it all go to crap. Okay? That's just part of being—"
“Being a hunter.” Tracy cut off the man, finishing his sentence with the moral lesson she thought he was trying to make. 
“Being human.” Dean corrected the woman. “Look, you want to be pissed off at them, that’s fine. I get it. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure they got black eyes. Got to know who the real monsters are in this world, kid.” 
Dean nodded his head for Tracy to start moving when he thought it was the perfect time to start heading to the spot he located. He cautiously made his way forward with his gun pointed forward and figured just centimeters from the trigger, ready to take down any demon that tried to get the jump on him. However the hunter was stupid enough to overlook the small alleyway that was just big enough to have someone hiding in there. Dean found himself being taken by surprise when he felt someone take a swing at him, sending him straight to the ground. Tracy was fast enough to act without a second thought. She fired off several rounds into the demon that now stood in front of her, thinking it would have been enough to take her down. However this demon had seen this sort of trick before, and learned some herself. 
Tracy lowered her gun when she realized the five rounds that she shot off had done nothing to the redhead. Instead all she got as a reaction was a smile. Abaddon lifted up her shirt to reveal the bullet proof vest she was wearing. The hunter was stupid enough to waste all her bullets on a chest shot, why she didn’t go for the head was a rookie mistake she would pay for in mere seconds when Abaddon went over there and ripped her throat out. 
“Nice grouping. Kevlar. Beats magic bullets.” She said. “I love the future.”
Dean had some tricks up his sleeve to make the demon back off enough for a chance to get Tracy out of here and get some extra weapons. He twisted off the cap to a flask of holy water and splashed it in Abaddon’s face, happy to know that at least something worked on her. She stumbled backwards as her face burned from the liquid. Dean took his chance to get back up to his feet and make his way over to Tracy. He shoved his car keys into the palm of her hands. 
“Listen, my car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water—get everything.” He instructed her. Tracy couldn’t help but worry about the man from the danger that he was putting himself in if she left him. “Just go! Go! Now!”
Abaddon felt the burning sensation on her skin slowly subside as she watched Tracy listen to the man, running off and going for more supplies would be rendered useless. The demon grew a toothy smile when she saw Dean turn around and face her, ready to let the real fun begin. She adjusted her red hair and tossed back a loose curl from her face. The demon had been waiting for a very long time to finally see the older Winchester’s handsome face. 
“Alone at last.” She said. 
Dean responded by taking out an angel blade from the inside of his jacket, something Abaddon wondered to herself how he managed to get hold of such an odd weapon. She smiled at the flimsy little tool that he thought was going to take someone as powerful as her. She watched as he attempted to take a stab at her, but the demon managed to block the shot with ease. Abbadon roughly disarmed him as she bent his arm behind his back, pulling him uncomfortably close to her body with his back pressed against her chest. She made the situation worse by hovering her lips over his ear.
“I missed you. Did you miss me?” She whispered to him. Dean wasn’t given a chance to give a snarky response from the way Abaddon was bending his arm to the point where all it would take was one wrong move and she’d snap it. She pushed him forward and down to his knees, his one arm still painfully in her grasp as the other was wrapped around her wrist. There was no way Dean was going to get out of this one, at least, not without Abaddon's permission. "So appreciate Y/N and you boys coming when I call. I think that's what I like most about you Winchesters.” The demon used her free hand to run her hand through Dean’s hair, enjoying the sight of such a handsome face. She smiled when he felt his body stiffen under her touch. She grabbed a fistful of the short locks, forcing his neck back slightly. “You’re so obedient. And suicidally stupid. I like that, too.” 
“Are we gonna fight or make out?” Dean asked the demon, wondering where all of this talking was going to lead them. “Cause I’m getting some real mixed signals here.” 
“I want Crowley—or what’s left of him.” Abaddon said, giving her reasons to the hunter. 
“Yeah?” Dean wondered if that’s all it really was. He flinched when she tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up at her with a tilted neck. “What’s in it for me?”
“I let you die.” Abaddon said. The demon thought her persuasive offer would be something Dean would be very much interested in than deal with the consequences if he didn’t cooperate. “You give me Crowley’s head, and I will snap your neck quick and clean.” 
“And if I tell you to get bent?” Dean asked. 
“Well…” The demon’s gaze fell away from Dean’s face and to his body, her lips stretched farther into a smile at the sight of a familiar tattoo on his chest. An idea crossed the woman’s mind that seemed like a perfect act of revenge against the man if he didn’t do what she said. “You know, I’ve loved this body since the moment I first saw it.” 
Dean grabbed the demon’s wrist when he felt her grab a fistful of his jacket and shirt, bunching up the fabric as she yanked it aside to reveal the one thing stopping her from using his body like a puppet. She smiled at his attempts at fighting back. The man was no match against her. “You’re the perfect vessel, Dean. You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas. Y/N is a very lucky woman, being able to enjoy this body all to herself.” Abbadon eyed him up like a piece of meat she was ready to devour. “So go ahead, and play hard to get, and I’ll peel off this ‘No demons allowed’ tattoo and blow smoke up your ass.”
“Oh...well, I got to tell you, between you and me, it’s a horror show up there.” Dean warned the demon if she chose to be stupid enough to try and ride around in his skin. The demon merely chuckled at the man’s silly little thoughts that were nothing more than foreplay compared to what she could cook up in a mere afternoon. 
“It can get worse. Trust me. Have you ever felt the pure joy of ripping a fetus straight out of a mother's womb? I was gonna do that to your little girlfriend when I went to the church. Just like how I did to Henry. Remember that? Of course you do. Maybe I’ll make you do it. I’ll use your body any way I please.” Abaddon chuckled darkly when she saw the look that crossed Dean’s face from her own threat. It was so easy to get humans riled up when you went straight for the people they loved. “Let me ask you, Dean. Have you ever felt the blood of an infant drip down your chin? Or listen to a girl scream as you rip her guts out?”
Abaddon forcefully grabbed the man by his face, digging the nail of her index finger into his skin as her thumb rested against his chin. “Because you will.” The demon promised him the torture ahead for him. “You and me lover, and we’ll have a grand old time. Because if there’s anything I can keep, it’s a promise. And I promise I’m gonna kill everyone you love with your own bare hands.”
+ + +
There was only so much two hunters could do when they were up against three demons. A fight like this wouldn't have been a problem if you were on your feet and gave Sam a proper warning to take them down when he had the chance. All you could do was regret your slow response as you were dragged back up to your feet by the demon who was crushing your hand with his boot. You tried to put up a proper fight, you really did. But there were only so many times you could handle your head being smashed against the wall before your vision grew blurry. After the demon was done with you for the meantime, he tossed your body across the room like you were a rag doll. A set of chairs broke your fall after you hit the table and went sliding to the ground. 
Sam was struggling to hold his own after he was somehow overpowered by the two demons that chose to pick a fight with him as you went up against the other. If given a proper chance, he could have taken them both down, but he realized that the fight was rigged not in his favor when he heard the sound of crashing. And it wasn't the demon you were going up against when someone decided to join in. Things were starting to look grim as the younger Winchester kept on trying to take them down. If he could find the knife after he dropped it, maybe he could take one or two down before going after the other. One of them demons roughly threw him across the counter and watched as he fell to the floor like a ton of bricks, laughing at how easy this was going to be.
In the moment all Sam could think about was trying to survive and use the knife that he lost on the three demons and not let them use it on him. He didn't realize that you were back up on your feet after being knocked out cold. It seemed your awakening caused the demons' attention to shift away from the younger Winchester. They were soon going to realize who they were staring at wasn't you, but something else. Sam didn't forget there was someone else hitching a ride in your skin. A silent passenger who was healing your internal wounds and organs back to normal. The angel hadn't made a peep or broken his problems about doing what needed to be done. But it seemed that Ezekial had come out just in time, as if he knew the both of you needed a lending hand.
Sam quickly lowered himself to the ground when he saw your eyes starting to glow a bright blue, as if the angel was warning him for what was about to be done. He heard a warning about covering his eyes before the room was lit into a blinding white light. The ground beneath his feet began to violently shake from whatever the angel was doing. Whatever he had done, it stopped quickly as it started. When Sam noticed the ringing in his ears stopped and his vision grew black, he noticed things had calmed down. He outstretched his hand and placed it on the counter, using it to push himself up to his feet to inspect the damage Ezekiel had inflicted. 
The younger Winchester looked to see that Ezekiel was standing over the dead body of the demon who was ready to kill him with the same knife the angel was using to slit the monster’s throat. Sam wondered why Ezekie was doing that when the demon was already dead. But then he realized, the angel was covering his tracks. He was making it look like one of you had done this. Sam made his way from behind the counter and watched as Ezekiel continued to work on the last body, finishing up right as his brother rushed in to see what the commotion was all about after witnessing only a glimpse from the outside.
"Thanks for the heads up." Sam spoke up, his tone of voice made him sound the least bit thankful for the rescue. And he wasn’t. He still wasn't sure how he felt the angel possessing you. You were tricked into having another partner walking in your skin, healing you up. He knew now was not the time to strike up the argument about his disagreement with the plan. 
"They were going to kill you and Y/N." The angel must have felt Sam's lingering stare, the frustration from the unexpected jump in appearance after being quiet for the past few days. Ezekiel turned his head to give the man a blank, almost unreadable expression. 
"Ezekiel?" Dean sounded surprised to see the angel was the one who was still out and about, cleaning up the mess that he had made so it wouldn't cause any suspicion for when you woke up. The older Winchester turned his head to see that his brother was okay. A little pissed off, but same from harm. "The hell did you do?"
"We had it under control." Sam said.
"If I didn't intervene when I did, you would be dead right. And so would Y/N. I was protecting your friend." Ezekial said. Sam knew the angel was right about that. But he wouldn’t admit to it. The silence that followed told the angel he wasn't going to be thanked for the rescue. He didn't understand the younger man's hostility towards him, he was merely doing what was promised. "I thought that was what the both of you wanted."
"Right, yeah, no." Dean mumbled out a response to the angel, his mind racing too fast for him to comprehend the situation he was in right now. For a split second he thought he was still talking to you. It looked like you, sounded like you. But the person standing in front of him was an angel who promised to help. Ezekiel hadn't made such a peep since he hitched a ride in your body a few days ago. Seeing him out and about took Dean a moment to comprehend. "I-I...sorry, I'm just still getting used to this whole thing." 
“As am I.” The angel agreed with the complexity of the situation. 
"Is she gonna be okay, at least?" Sam asked the angel in a concerned tone of voice. if anything, your well being was the one thing he cared most about. "Y/N. Is she gonna be okay?"
"She was knocked unconscious. In a way, she still is." Ezekiel said. "Y/N will not remember any of this." 
"So what the hell am I supposed to tell her when she comes to?" Dean questioned the angel.
Dean was no stranger to a situation like this; two souls sharing a body with one not knowing the other was there. It happened too many times with you. The memory loss, the questions. He didn't want to deal with the complications like he had to when you were still a half demon. When you found out about that, the fall out caused damage in a monsterous way. But this...this was worse than any of that somehow. Not only would he lose your trust you would most likely never forgive him. Maybe you would never be able to look at him in the eye. And when you did, all you could think of was that he was a selfish man. Choosing your life over another. "Selfish little bastard. That's what you are. You should've let me die...you should've let me be at peace." 
"That's why I used the knife." Ezekiel's voice broke the man out of his personal thoughts. Dean looked down to see the demon knife in the angel's outstretched hand. 
"Right." Dean muttered, grabbing the knife by the handle and dropped his arm back down to his side. "Smart." 
Ezekial noticed the shift in Dean's voice first before his expression began to change. Despite talking to him, Dean couldn't look at him directly in the eye for very long. He slowly turned around so his back was facing him. Dean must have felt as if he wasn't speaking to an angel, but you. He was lying to your face without having talked to you directly. "You are troubled, still." 
"Yeah, it's that, uh...this is on me. I was the one who talked Y/N out of boarding up Hell. Okay? And I know what would've happened if I let her. All of this is my fault. I should've been there. It should've been me who did those trials. Not her. Not Sammy." Dean admitted his guilt for the entire situation that affected them here. He looked over at his brother, as if he was silently wanting to let him know not to carry this burden. All of this fell on his shoulders. If he had been quicker, if he said no to Cas maybe all of this would have turned out differently. But it didn't. "So every demon deal, every kill they make...well, you're looking at the person who let it happen."
“Dean, come on.” Sam suddenly spoke up after hearing the nonsense that was coming out of his brother's mouth. “It’s not your fault.” 
"You were protecting Y/N. I am in her head. Everything she knows, I know. And I know what you did, you did out of love." Ezekiel said. The words weren't reassuring enough to help ease the older Winchester's worried mind. "You two are soulmates, correct? Dean slowly nodded his head, wondering why it suddenly mattered. The angel's lips stretched into a smile. "It's a love not many humans will experience in their lifetime. But it doesn't always show in romantic forms. I believe it can be palontic as well. The three of you have a strong bond. Unbreakable. She can feel it." 
"Yeah, uh, look, Zeke—and I'm gonna call you Zeke—we're not really with the whole love, and...love." Dean was starting to feel a little awkward from how this conversation was shifting into sharing their feelings. He did it for almost no one. He barely let his brother in sometimes. The only person who could see him at worst, the most vulnerable was you. He always had a soft spot for you. He was the only one who told you that he loved you. Three little words with such heavy meaning. And yet they felt too hard to say these days when the both of you needed to hear it the most. 
"But it is why I said yes." Ezekiel said. 
"Yeah, and if that goes sideways, that's on me, too." Dean said, shifting the blame on himself for a situation that hasn’t even arisen yet. 
"That's not going to happen." The angel reassured them both. 
Ezekiel's kind words didn't help the older Winchester's racing mind. Dean let out a chuckle from the situation he was in. "This is nuts. I mean, you're Y/N, but you're not Y/N, and normally she's the one I'm talking to about all this stuff. You think I would be used to talking to someone else in her skin." Dean muttered the last remark to himself, his lips stretching into a weak smile at how this situation was spiraling. "Sam and I are trusting you, Zeke. I just gotta hope you're one of the good guys." 
"I am." Ezekiel promised both of the Winchesters that he wasn't like his siblings. However the angel was quick to realize how the human mind worked. Sometimes a worded promise didn't come with reassurance that they meant what they spoke. They were complicated creatures, their words were flimsy. They could mean so much to a person, and yet so little. "But I suppose that is what a bad guy would say. Sam and Dean Winchester, you are doing the right thing.”
The brothers slowly looked away from the angel, finding their gaze reached to each other.  Ezekiel’s words were full of reassurance and hopefulness that everything was going to be okay in the end of all of this. Much as things seemed like it could be, but nothing was going to make the guilt that came as a heavy weight on their chest loosen up even the slightest. If anything, the words made it feel worse. Both of them stared at one another with the same defeated, almost pained expression. If this was the right thing, the only good thing they could have done to save you...then why did it feel so wrong?
+ + +
You didn’t come back around right away. The boys kept themselves busy while your body remained where it was on the floor, making it appear as if things were left as you last remembered them. Dean dropped the last of the supplies into the duffel bag as you slowly made it back into consciousness. You weren’t sure what was going on right away, feeling the coldness against your bruised cheek made you piece together that you were on the floor. How you got here was still a blur. You shifted around slightly as you tried to sit up, but the sudden jolt of pain reminded you that you weren’t willingly put here. A demon had thrown you across the room...
The sound of someone speaking your name made you jump slightly in the noise you weren’t expecting, your mind tricking you into thinking it was a demon trying to go another round with you. When you looked up to see that it was just the boys, Dean holding the bloody knife that you remembered his brother lost in the fight you had gotten into, you were confused as to what was going on. You looked around the diner from where you were to see that it was just the three of you. 
“Guys?” You winced as you slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, wiping your hands clean from the dirt you accidentally touched. You noticed the bodies of the demons you had tried going up against, now lying on the ground dead. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion and looked up at the brothers. “What the hell happened?” 
“You took a shot to the head, Sammy was pinned up against three demons. I came in and saved your asses, like usual.” Dean gave you a recap on what you missed out on. 
“You killed three demons?” You asked him. “Alone?”
“I took them by surprise while Sam distracted them.” Dean slapped a hand on his brother’s back and cracked a smile at the fake story he was making up on the spot. To you, it sounded like the truth. He slipped the clean knife back into the inside pocket for safe keeping. “Got a little messy. I got a little lucky. Oh, and uh…” He outstretched for you to take and pulled you back up to your feet like you weighed nothing. “I’m awesome, so there’s that.”  
“Geez. Yeah. You are pretty damn awesome. Nice work.” Your eyes wandered around the three dead bodies that were led to believe were killed by Dean. A smirk spread across your lips as you looked over at the younger Winchester. “You did good, too, Sasquatch.” 
Sam couldn't help himself but smile at hearing the nickname for the first time in what felt like forever. The conversation was monentaly paused when you heard what sounded like the Impala's engine coming your way. You and the boys headed out to see Tracy was coming your way, she parked the car out front and got out to greet all of you. You felt a little easier knowing she was at least safe from the harm. 
“Hey. You okay?” You asked her, expecting a snarky response in return. 
“Yeah.” She said. “What about you two?” 
You shrugged your shoulders, “More or less, yeah.” 
“Good.” Tracy took you by surprise when she sounded rather happy to hear. She must've noticed your slightly skeptical look at her change in behavior. She tossed the keys to Dean and made her way to the backseat. "I got everything. But guess I'm late to the party."
“Lucky you. Let’s blow this toxic waste dump.” Dean said. All of you took your respectful places and got comfortable for the long drive ahead of you. "Burgers and silkwood showers on me." 
You smiled at the thought of eating something and washing away the possible containimentation you were subjected to. You might not have been able to take down Abaddon easily as how you wanted, and not to mention how Irv was killed. But you had to take your wins where you got them. You and the boys made it out in one piece, ready to see another day.
[Next Part]
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Original Characters Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff Series: Part 4 of Ineffable Outliers Weekly Prompts Summary:
A day in the life of a certain angel and demon, a little over a year after the failed apocalypse. Featuring a visit to a coffee shop and a visit to a little Greek restaurant called the Olive Grove.
---
This is a prompt fill for the Ineffable Outlier’s Weekly Prompts!  This week’s prompt was:
It's a typical, mundane Post-End of the World day for any set of Gomens characters. How does this nice slice of life day go for them? How do the characters react to each other doing everyday trivialities such as washing dishes, gardening, shopping/running errands, etc. etc. Try to focus on the little things in life!
---
10:17AM
Crowley almost didn’t like coming back to this place.
Sure, the coffee was great (large black, two sugars, every time, without him asking), and the baristas were some of the best in London (their sarcastic attitudes being a bonus, not a drawback), but the location. Well, the location left a lot to be desired.
Because this particular coffee shop was in Broadgate Tower.  Main Earth location of the head offices of Heaven and Hell.
Not people he particularly wanted to be around these days.
Sure, they had formed a tenuous partnership with their former offices.  Turns out, nobody upstairs or down knew jack shit about how things work on Earth.  So now, they freelance.  Sometimes the old Arrangement even kicks in, and Hell will (reluctantly) hire Aziraphale for a temptation or Heaven will (reluctantly) hire Crowley for a blessing.
Kind of ironic, in that Alanis Morissette kind of way.
They’d just come from one such meeting, Heaven was hiring the both of them for some minor blessings in Wales next week.  Something to do with a charity soccer game or something, Crowley never paid much attention.  Spent too much time glaring at Gabriel to listen to him.  He’d really just wanted to get the heav-hel-WHATEVER out of there and go get his angel some lunch, but the silly featherhead wanted cocoa.
Oh, but dearest, they make the best cocoa here at the towers, Aziraphale had said, practically bouncing, they have the tiny little marshmallows I love and everything!
That’s where the ‘almost’ came in.  As anyone who knew them would gladly tell you, Crowley was powerless to resist any request from his angel.  
Hand in hand in a line full of business suits to get some much-needed warmth for this December chill.  He recognized a couple of the baristas (1); Rose had really come into her own, was one of the best of them by now.  She was working register today; Jisel was making the drinks. Couple of new faces here and there.
One would probably expect Aziraphale to know everyone by name, it came across through his sunny disposition.  Sometimes, especially mundane times like this, Crowley would be struck by just how ridiculously in love with this fussy angel he was.
Sure, they were married now.  Even their former bosses knew that had happened (2). But seeing the angel’s eyes light up over his favorite cocoa from his favorite coffee shop was almost a religious experience for the demon.  Or how he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand right now that the angel would squeeze back without hesitating and turn and give Crowley that soft little smile that was reserved just for him.
He tested that theory.  Squeeze the hand, he squeezes back, and there’s the smile I love so much.
It was all unbearably sentimental.  Made his insides feel all gooey.  Unbecoming for a demon.  Not that he gave a toss about that anymore.
“Hullo Mr. Crowley; Mr. Fell,” said Rose, now masterful at the register, “Same as always for today?”
“Yes, of course my dear,” Aziraphale said brightly, “With– ”
“Extra marshmallows, of course.” Rose smiled at them and Crowley could already feel Aziraphale blessing the rest of the baristas’ day.
Rose handed Crowley his coffee and they moved along to the end of the counter to wait for Aziraphale’s cocoa; leaning against the bar top with their shoulders touching.  It was ridiculous how something so small made Crowley want to melt into a puddle of snake on the floor and slither off someplace secluded to scream and blush in peace, dammit.
Aziraphale sighed, “You know, Darling, it might not be the best idea, but in some small way I’m glad we’re freelancing now.”
“You just wanted to keep getting your cocoa, Angel,” Crowley said, bumping his shoulder into the angel’s, “which really, you could do anywhere.”
“Oh, but it just isn’t the same, Dearest.” Always with the pet names.  It had taken Crowley quite a while to get used to them, felt like there was a new one every day and he couldn’t keep up.  Every single one was infused with so much love and devotion they nearly knocked him off his feet.
“If I’m being honest, it’s the marshmallows,” the angel said wistfully, smiling at a memory, “Remember when we went back to Paris, after the Reign was over?  And we found that quaint little candy shop and they were selling marshmallows there? I swear the marshmallows here taste exactly the same as those.”
“They’re probably just some megamart brand that you haven’t tried yet.”
“I-well, I never...A megamart, Dearest?” The angel stammered, “As though I’d ever.  The sheer thought-“
“I’m only teasing you, Love,” Crowley said before leaning over and planting a kiss on the angel’s cheek, “You do get so cute when you’re full of that self-righteous fury.”
That earned him an eye roll.  He knew what he had to do for these little reactions he so loved (3).  
Little reactions he never thought he’d have.  For the longest time, Aziraphale had been just a little too far from his reach, and just a little too in Heaven’s grasp.  The angel had held Crowley’s twisted dark heart in his hands ever since that first day on the wall of Eden.  Six thousand years of stolen glances, stolen time; lunches here, drinks there.  Always, the forefront of his mind screaming please, please, just stay a little longer, a few more minutes and maybe I’ll finally get past all this emotion that’s eating me from the inside out.
Then the apocalypse didn’t happen.  Then they were together, like it was the easiest decision in the world.
He’d still had his issues, to be sure.  Not thinking he was good enough, not thinking Aziraphale would want to stay with him once he saw what a mess Crowley could actually be when he wasn’t putting up the cool façade.  But the angel had stayed, had chosen him over everything and everyone else.  And now they were married.
He liked to tumble that word around in his head sometimes. He did now, as he gazed lovingly (gross) at his husband (husband?!) as the angel prattled on about this or that to Jisel while she made his cocoa.
A commotion broke him out of his reverie.
“What do you mean my coffee is £3.80?  It was £3.40 last week!”
“I do apologize, sir,” Rose stammered from behind the register, Crowley was already on alert, ready to intervene, “But the tower management raised the prices a couple of days ago.”
“Bullshit, don’t you know who I am?” the man shouted, Rose looked like she might faint.  Crowley was about to say something, but Aziraphale beat him to it.
The angel had stood up and walked back to the register and was now addressing the customer directly, while Jisel handed his cocoa to Crowley.
“My dear fellow, I do believe you’ve forgotten to do something very important today.”
“I have?” the man asked, confused.
“Yes, I believe you said something about an…anniversary, maybe?” Aziraphale says, with a bit of miraculous intent.
The man goes pale, “Oh no, I forgot, I don’t have anything for her!”
“Well, I’d suggest you get a bit of a wiggle-on then, hmm?” Aziraphale said, with what Crowley could only describe as a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
“Yes,” the man stammered, “Yes, I-I suppose I should. Thank you.”
The man left without getting his coffee.
Crowley caught up to his husband, “Come on then, Angel, did your good deed for the day?”
“No rest for the good,” the angel smirked at him, “As it were.”
It was about this time that the man slipped and fell on a freshly mopped floor, sign conveniently missing, but now appearing out of thin air.  His phone flew out of his hand and the screen shattered.
Aziraphale was practically giggly.
Crowley just stared at his angel, ever surprised by him to this day.  Six thousand years doing nothing to dampen that affection.
That’s my Angel, he thought to himself, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing.
---
1:34 PM
There weren’t many things in this world that Aziraphale loved more than a nice hole-in-the-wall family restaurant (4).
The feelings of love that emanated from them were nearly intoxicating.  As an angel, a being drawn to love, he gravitated to these establishments.  Passed down from generation to generation, some further back than others.  This one was a particular favorite, for more reasons than one.
“EAT!”
“I already told you, Yaya, I’m not hungry,” Crowley told her for the fifteenth time since they had sat down.
It was always this way here at the Olive Grove.  Yaya thought Crowley was too skinny, she wanted him to eat.  Crowley didn’t like eating, so he didn’t want to5.
All Aziraphale could do was stare from across the table and giggle.  This was his favorite part of coming here, after all.  Crowley may pretend to have a devil-may-care attitude, but the angel knew deep down that wasn’t the case.
Crowley would never admit it out loud, but he had a certain love for Yaya of his own.  One that was misplaced by a Mother many, many eons ago.  There’s a lot to be said for taking care of someone.
Not that any of that prevented Yaya from smacking Crowley’s hand with a wooden spoon as he reached for his phone instead of a fork.
“EAT!”
“Ok, alright, fine, I’m eating,” Crowley grumbled as he picked up the fork.  Satisfied with the results, Yaya gave them both a smile and returned to her own work.
“You know, love, she’s only looking out for you,” the angel said between giggles.  He couldn’t help it; it was always funny to see Crowley embarrassed.
“Doesn’t bloody need to, crazy old bat.”
Despite whatever thoughts Crowley had on crazy old people, bat or otherwise, he was digging rather quickly into the moussaka she had brought him.
Crowley was always a surprise, even after all this time. Aziraphale knew his husband had a soft heart underneath that bluster and bravado.  Demons didn’t do things like sing the (alleged) Antichrist to sleep. Or stowaway children on the ark.  Or save books of prophecy for dithering angels who might forget about them.  Or go for lunches at the Ritz and picnics in the park.
But his demon did, and oh how Aziraphale knew how lucky he was.
He’d given Crowley a million reasons to give up on him through the years.  Calling their friendship ‘fraternizing’, pushing him away when all he wanted to do was pull the demon closer.  That last day before Armageddon was the worst.  Aziraphale still had nightmares.  Of Alpha Centauri and holy water and bathtubs.
But Crowley was always there when Aziraphale would wake from these, holding him and comforting him.  Crowley has nightmares of his own, the angel knows.  Of bookshops and sulfur and bandstands.
Bandstands.  After that day, Aziraphale truly thought he’d lost Crowley for good.  How could he have said something so mean.  I don’t even like you! The furthest thing from the truth he ever could have said.  Fear can make someone do things they wouldn’t, angels are no exception.
Aziraphale props his chin on his hand and looks at Crowley, who is now loudly complaining that no little old bat in a hole-in-the-wall Greek place can tell him what to do (he’s finished the moussaka and moved on to the dolmas at this point).  All the angel can do is sigh.  
Almost a century ago, when the angel had felt their fingers brush over a leather satchel of books in the burning wreckage of a church, he knew that the thing he’d been repressing had a name.  A very familiar one at that.  He tried to keep it at bay for so long, but it all came bubbling over after lunch at the Ritz following Armageddon.  They had been walking and their hands were so very, very close.  Almost touching with every step they took.  Crowley rarely, if ever, had his hands out of his pockets and Aziraphale tended to flip back and forth between worrying his in front of him and having them behind his back.  He’d seen the chance and took it.
And on they had walked, hand in hand, fitting together like missing puzzle pieces.  They didn’t look at each other or speak, both afraid that they might ruin the moment.  
They made it three steps into the bookshop before giving up and kissing each other senseless, no time for talking then, that would come later. In hushed breaths and soft spoken I-love-you’s that had waited for far too many centuries to be spoken into the world.
He’d spent some time at the beginning absolutely terrified.  To him, Crowley was so vibrant and he always seemed to be running on all cylinders.  Aziraphale had been afraid, when it came right down to it, that one day Crowley would wake up and realize just how boring he really was.  Sure, Crowley had always teased him about his fashion and his books among other things but being together in this capacity was so different.  So new and fresh.  Aziraphale was scared he couldn’t live up to the expectations of 6000 years of want.
But here they were, on their own side.  With the rings on their fingers to prove it.  He can’t help but stare.  Crowley’s been growing his hair out long again, and it’s almost to his shoulders now.  It catches the light and is reminiscent of the copper pots that hang as decoration on the walls.  He’s gesticulating wildly to go with whatever nonsense he’s decided to complain about now, and Aziraphale traces the motion, focused on the gold ring that looks like wings on Crowley’s finger.
He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there staring when Crowley stops ranting and leans in to kiss him gently, breaking him from his self-imposed trance.
“See something you like, Angel?” the demon says with a twitch of that mischievous smile.  The one that he saves for Aziraphale, without the demonic intent behind it.
Which doesn’t change what that smile means for later. But Aziraphale knows how his demon’s mind works.
“Just admiring the most beautiful person in this restaurant, dearest,” and if Aziraphale is right, what comes next is–
“Ngk.”
Yes, just as he thought.  He reaches across the table and takes his husband’s hand, “You do realize you’ve almost made your way through three plates while complaining about Yaya’s concern for you.”
“Well…I…ngk…uh…” the demon stammers, trying to come up with a bad reason to eat the food that Yaya gives him, “Well…um…the thing is. The thing is..”
Aziraphale lets him work through it as he eats his spanakopita and drinks his wine.
“The thing is, Angel, if Yaya keeps giving me this food…that’s less for the paying customers…then business goes under…and then the restaurant closes!  See? Perfectly evil of me!” Crowley smiles smugly and takes a drink of his own wine.
“Except we do pay for our food here, if anything we’re helping the business, so that line is out my dearest.”
“Well…well…uhm…”
Aziraphale loves flustering Crowley this way, it’s always so easy to do and always good for a show.  
“Sometimes you can be quite nice my dear.”
“Shaddap,” Crowley says, sulking into his chair.  The demon looks over to where Yaya is taking an order and she gives him a pointed look.
“Dearest, best eat up, you know she’ll insist on you having the baklava before she lets you leave.”
“Well,” Crowley says quickly and almost inaudibly, “Be rude to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”
There’s my demon, Aziraphale thought to himself, sipping his wine and smiling, just a little bit a good person, whether he admits it or not.
---
7:23 PM
In a little flat above a bookshop in Soho, and angel and a demon are watching TV.
Well, they were watching TV.  They’d started out with Crowley resting his head in Aziraphale’s lap while the angel carded his fingers through the demon’s hair.  But then Crowley had stilled the angel’s hand to kiss his wrist.  Which of course meant that Aziraphale had brought Crowley’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Which led to the demon leaning up to kiss along the angel’s jawline, and that’s how we ended up here.
Snogging on the couch while they were intending to watch TV.
A typical Monday spent the typical ways.  The sun sets, and the calendar turns a page.  There will be more Mondays, more Decembers.  More coffee shops and little Greek restaurants. More anniversaries and holidays.  More interrupted TV shows to go with interrupted morning crossword puzzles, because what can hold a candle to love?  What else does anyone need?
Let us retreat and give them their privacy.  They deserve it after so long being watched by Heaven and Hell alike.  They don’t need to be watched by us as well.
Let us draw these curtains and slip away, and as we do, think of love.  Love everlasting and love unconditional.  Love that waits and is waited for.  A love that is patient, and a love that is kind.
---
1 - Crowley made a habit of remembering his favorite baristas.  If that happened to be most of them, you couldn’t really blame him.
2 - There wasn’t an official ceremony, as it were, they just exchanged their rings in the park while book-girl took pictures from a bush.  But as there had been witnesses (one purple-eyed intrusive spy from Heaven, and one very buzzy spy from Hell) it had been considered official and they had been given rounds of forced congratulations when they got called in for the next freelance assignment.
3 – And if one of these things was a minor miracle that ensured the shop always had those lovely little marshmallows from France when Aziraphale was there, who was anyone to judge?
4 – There were three. The Ritz (too many good memories), Books (too many good stories), and Crowley (there’s not enough space in the footnotes to get into why the demon ranks at the top.  Perhaps there’s a place with copious amounts of stories at the push of a button that could give you a few examples, hmm?)
5 – Crowley and Yaya had done this back and forth since the first visit.  Crowley knows Yaya barely speaks English, and Yaya knows that Crowley doesn’t like to be told what to do.  Neither of these things stop either of them.  They both love it.
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blackcatkita · 5 years
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6, 9, & 14
6- Have you ever experienced anything supernatural?
Oh boy, have I! I’ve got three stories that came to mind. Pull up a chair!
-On vacation in Deadwood SD we stayed at the famous Bullock Hotel. Very cool if you’re ever in the area! It was built in 1895 and is haunted by the former sheriff himself! Which is why we stayed there. My dad and I stay in haunted hotels whenever possible; we’re weird like that.
So, there we were on vacation and my dad and his girlfriend decided to try their luck at the casino on the first floor. I was too young, so I did what any curious 17 year old amateur ghosthunter armed with a 35mm camera and more guts than sense would do. I went exploring!
I was walking down an empty corridor and felt a cold spot. I was excited! Anyone who knows anything about hauntings knows about cold spots! I stopped right there, might have had a tiny thought in the back of my mind of evil twins, redrum and all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy but eh, thoughts like that aren’t going to get me a ghost pic. So there I am, snapping pictures like the paparazzi and I felt a tug on my ponytail. Like, head pulled back tug. I whipped around with a gasp, saw I was all alone in the hallway and... ran like hell. And guess what? Not ONE of those pictures turned out when I had the film developed.
-After my grandpa died I said something to my grandma about how much she must miss him and she said, “Miss him? How the hell could I miss him? He won’t leave me alone!”
Granny always was a little touched so we didn’t really think anything of it. Well, one night I had just turned off my bedside lamp and rolled over, facing the wall to go to sleep and someone sat on the edge of my bed. I felt it, plain as day. My eyes shot open, heart racing, body tense because holy shit, this is how I die. Murdered by an intruder in my childhood home. I remember holding my breath then thinking, why am I holding my breath, they know I’m here! Somewhere deep down I found the courage to flip around, swinging my fist because, YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!! and... nothing. There was no one there but damn it if I didn’t FEEL someone there. 
This weird sense of calm washed over me and I said, “Grandpa, if that’s you you’re scaring the shit out of me and you have to go.”
I felt the bed shift again and the feeling that someone was “there” went away. My bedroom door never opened. Thinking I had finally lost it, or maybe I had been half asleep and dreaming, I never said anything. Imagine my surprise when a week or two later Granny was over for dinner and right as I took a bite of mashed potatoes she said, “Oh, grandpa said he’s sorry he scared you.” All nonchalant and everything, like she just said, “gonna be a warm one out there tomorrow.”
-Third and final story is about my friend Danny. He was... I could talk all day about what he was. Devastatingly handsome with the prettiest blue eyes, the life of the party, both the devil and the angel on my shoulder depending on the situation. I could talk to him for hours until one of us fell asleep on the phone, count on him telling everyone to shut up because he wanted to hear me sing, hang out in his room watching movies with him in only his boxers (don’t ask me why he did that, I still don’t know) and not have to worry about him having ulterior motives.
He was my confidant, my protector and one of my closest friends and I loved him from the bottom of my heart. (not like that) I still do and I always will. If it was a romance novel it would be the perfect friends to lovers troupe but in real life, EW. No. 
When we were 20, he and another friend went up north for the weekend and they went to a bar. At the bar was a girl they didn’t know, sloppy ass drunk and getting inappropriate attention from some of the guys there. Danny drove her home because that’s the kind of guy he was and on their way from her house to their hotel there was an accident. Danny didn’t survive the crash. I had suffered heartbreak before of course but nothing like getting that phone call. I was devastated. One of the brightest lights in the world was gone, just like that.
Anyway, I wanted to give a little backstory because I think it’s important and those who we are close to let us know they’re still around if you pay attention. So, me and my friend were in the car driving I don’t remember where and talking about Danny like we so often did back then. I made a comment about Danny probably checking us out in the shower because we never let him see the goods when he was alive and his necklace that was hanging on the rear-view mirror fell into my lap. It was still clasped. I shouted, “I knew it! Danny, you pervert! Stay out of my shower!”
9- What is your favorite kind of literature?
The rest of these answers are going to be so boring now lol. I like suspense, psychological thrillers, historical fiction and fantasy I suppose. I’ll read pretty much anything though but if it doesn’t grab me in the first 50 pages I’m done. Life’s too short to read books I don’t enjoy.
14- Where is the farthest you’ve ever lived from home?
Umm... like 5 miles? Ok, weird. I just googled my dad’s address to mine and it’s exactly 5 miles. Exactly. My first apartment was only 20 blocks from his house so at least now it’s further!
Thanks for the ask @bobasheebaby!
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swiftorbust · 5 years
Text
One Thing I Learned From Each Track on Lover
1. I Forgot That You Existed:
Sometimes the people that you think are going to be there forever end up showing you their true colors in times when you need them most. Just because you’re committed to sticking by them through the good and the bad, doesn’t mean that they’re willing to do the same. You don’t have to hate each other, you don’t have to fight, you can just move on: Indifference.
“It isn’t love, it isn’t hate it’s just indifference.”
2. Cruel Summer:
There will always be a newer, shinier, better version of what you may already have. It’s a good reminder that what you want might now be the best thing for you.
“Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes.”
3. Lover:
When you’re with the right person for you, you feel safe, valued and heard. You can travel through life with a set of rules thats unique to your relationship and your relationship only. Nothing else matters.
“This is our place, we make the rules.”
4. The Man:
To put it simply, human beings are not all equal in some people’s eyes. Minorities have to work twice as hard to get to the same point as someone more privileged. And even if/when you get there, your successes are still questioned.
“They wouldn’t shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve.”
5. The Archer:
Recognize who you are at face value: the good, the bad and the ugly. Acknowledge your weaknesses and start to take ownership. You’re worthy of love and kindness, but if you don’t work on the flaws within yourself, no one will stay for what you have to offer.
“Who could ever leave me darlin’, but who could stay?”
6. I Think He Knows:
If your heart isn’t skipping beats, it ain’t it sis. That feeling of butterflies every time you see someone is so important in a relationship. That sense of longing someone and missing them when you just left them an hour ago; that’s something special. 
“You’ve got my heartbeat, skippin’ down 16th Avenue.”
7. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:
We’re in a very scary time for many reasons, but a change in the world of politics is vital. We as American citizens need to recognize and stand up ourselves, our communities, and most importantly, those who are unable to fight for themselves.
“American glory, faded before me. Now I'm feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress.”
8. Paper Rings:
Love trumps any and everything. If you were to lose all of your material things tomorrow, what would your relationship look like? Would there be a strong foundation of love, respect and loyalty? Or would everything crumble because it wasn’t built on those factors? For better or for worse, if you care about someone at the most fundamental level, you’ll want to be there for everything.
“I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays.”
9. Cornelia Street:
There’s no point in playing games - don’t way too long to show your hand. Lean in, follow your feelings and don’t hold anything back. Passing the chance you have to be vulnerable and reveal your feelings can hurt way more in the end than the idea of being rejected. What if it doesn’t work out? But what if it does. Things will fall into place, but you need to help gravity  a little bit on the way down.
“But then you called, showed your hand. I turned around before I hit the tunnel, sat on the roof, you and I.”
10. Death By A Thousand Cuts:
Sometimes love isn’t enough between two people. Sometimes, two people aren’t meant for the long haul. People are placed Into your life for certain reasons at certain times to help you change, evolve and grow. The worst goodbye is one you don’t have a reason for.
“I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up. Chandelier still flickering here cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when its not.”
11. London Boy
Love is supposed to be fun, playful, giddy and make your heart flutter. Showing your significant other your hometown, having them meet your best friends and doing the things you love to do with them is what a relationship is all about. Don’t sweat the small stuff and actually enjoy your time together, whatever you’re doing.
“He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling I fancy you.”
12. Soon You’ll Get Better
The age-old tale of you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Any loved one with cancer is a terrifying thing, and knowing that your best friend and confidante could be taken away from you at any moment Is a pill that you’ll never be able to swallow. Losing my mom to Breast Cancer, this song perfectly, yet simply,  translates the fear, irrational hope and constant desire to make anything you can better for the person going through this.
“And I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you?”
13. False God:
Believing in something whole-heartedly doesn’t make it true and doesn’t make it right. As much as you want to stay on course and take that leap of faith blindly, there’s more than likely red flags that line the very path that you chose to walk down.
“They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith.”
14. You Need To Calm Down:
Focus on yourself: your actions and your actions only. The energy that you put out into the world can have the power to make or break someone and your words matter - use them for good or don’t say anything at all.
“You just need to take several seats and try to restore the peace and control your urges to scream about all the people you hate.”
15. Afterglow
We over-think, over-analyze and over-complicate. We blow things out of proportion, take things the wrong way and hold people accountable for something they didn’t do. Maybe you didn’t realize, or want to realize, that this is something that’s on you to fix. Anxiety and insecurity are real and raw parts of any relationship that can hurt both sides if it isn’t talked about. Emotions can sometimes get the best of you, but try to recognize when you’re in the wrong.
“Hey, it’s all me, in my head. I’m the one who burned us down, but it's not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you.”
16. ME!
Value the relationships that are so special and dear to you. Cherish the fact that each relationship in your life is different and unique in their own right - they aren’t comparable to each other and they shouldn’t be.
“And I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me.”
17. It’s Nice To Have A Friend
You don’t know what someone is going through and everyone has battles they’re fighting daily. Seeing someone in pain or showing emotions can be uncomfortable and it can be hard too gain the nerve to address it. It’s awkward and uncomfortable. But showing your support through something as simple as holding someone’s hand can make a world of a difference for someone who is struggling.
“Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand, it’s nice to have a friend.”
18. Daylight
Not everything on your shoulders is yours to carry. Let go of the things that are weighing you down - make it easier on yourself. You are in control of your emotions and have every right to make your way out of the darkness that surrounds you. There’s a bright light waiting for you.
“I’ve been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night, and now I see daylight. I only see daylight.”
--
Thank you, @taylorswift for creating this masterpiece!
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