#what she does and has to live with and worries about

[timmydraker]

On Tim’s nineteenth birthday he had a party with his friends and had chosen to celebrate it at a karaoke bar.

Kon, Cassie and Bart are there in civilian clothes and identities and so are Tim’s old school friends as well as come of his college’s kids, as well as Tam.

Everyone is having fun and while they have alcohol I drinks available, everyone is being mindful to not send it to hard due to Tim only just agreeing to drink before he’s legal.

Naturally, a few of them get competitive and Ives ends up becoming a judge for who wins in certain face offs.

It’s all fun and games until Kon points out that Tim had been spending most of the time taking photos of other people, though admittedly a fair amount are selfies, and insist on everyone watching Tim perform and filming it.

Tim, who’s used to having lots of eyes on him quickly goes from bashful to scheming and everyone gets the performance of their lives.

Tim wakes up with a mild hangover, (hes a good boy who made sure to drink water and eat a lot), and around a dozen missed calls from various family members. He feels out at first before he sees his latest text is from Stephanie saying ‘Handsome and rich and you can sing? Urg why did we break up again?’ She hadn’t been able to make it due to a break out but promised to make it up to him and she always did.

Attached is a link to a TikTok from an account he knows for a fact is one of his friends.

It’s him, standing on the stage with his big pink feather shall, black dress shirt open with glitter visible on his collar bones and a large jacket that defiantly isn’t his likely hanging over his arms. In the video Tim is swaying around happily, cheekily even, while singing ‘I Am A Good Girl’ by Christina Aguilera from Chicago and sauntering around as if he himself is playing her role.

Tim’s face isn’t all that flushed and part of him wishes that wasn’t the case if only because it shows he was sober enough to be fully aware of what he was doing, which is unfortunately true.

Tim is confident in his public appearance and knows how to handle any backlash, it’s the text from his family that are going to make him crawl into a hole and die.

Dick: Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, why are you at a club?

Dick: there better not have been alcohol

Dick: also, unimportant and totally not the most important thing, WHY DIDNT YOU INVITE ME 😭

Damian: You look like a fool, Drake. Alfred has been muttering about Father being a bad influence and is threatening my to kick him out.

Damian: I cannot be sure, but I belive I heard Alfred say ‘your playboy ways better not be swaying that boy to be a nuance like you, young man’.

Damian: Fix this.

Stephanie: ‘why you in the club with people wildin’

Stephanie: get it

Stephanie: like the Meghan the Stallion song?

Jason: why the fuck are you at a club

Jason: don’t think I didn’t see that vodka raspberry in your hand

Jason: answer me you little shit

Jason: I swear to go if you were in crime ally I will loose it

Duke: dude Bruce has such a big worry frown I think I heard a muscle snap

Duke: you’re a really good singer though

Duke: good song choice for a rich brat lol

Duke: that was meaner than I meant for it be sorry!

Duke: still true tho

Cass: drink lots of water and I’ll bring you bat burger in the afternoon xx

Bruce: I’m not angry, you haven’t done anything wrong, but did you have to sing a song about being a rich girl when people complain about us being out of touch enough as it is?

Bruce: I’m not mad though.

Bruce: have you drunk water?

Bruce: also did I see Conner Kent there?

Bruce; why was he there.

Bruce: does he understand the dangers of drinking as a Kryptonian?

Bruce: again, I’m not mad at you, just concerned.

Bruce: I’m mean in a little mad but not because Alfred is yelling at me.

Bruce: you know the Brucie Wayne persona was a farce, I have no doubt about that, but that doesn’t mean you need one.

Bruce: not that you can’t have a good time!

Bruce: please answer Dick is yelling at me now too

Damian: Grayson is now yelling at Father.

Damian: He has called him a whore but I believe that had nothing to do with your provocative dancing. I think he just wants to call father a whore.

Jason: I found the bar.

Bart: heyheyheyheyheyhey! Barry said to warn you that Bruce is making everyone do a course on teaching your kids to be alcohol safe and that even the ones who aren’t parents have to do it too lollolololololol

Jason: I was going to get do something but the woman owning it kept talking about how nice you all were so I feel bad

Dick: I mean you didn’t have to invite me I know it’d be weird to have a 27 year old there but that’s not that old!

Alfred: I shall be around shortly with adequate food. Be ready.

Tim was in for it that was for sure, especially when he saw ‘Tim Drake’ and ‘Thristtrap’ trending.

[breadwithpoprocks-fandom]

additions:

@a-mind-of-color-blog :

OMG absolutely and I can absolutely see like, before he’s revealed as red hood Tim and Dick are like hella bitter. Like plotting looney toons level traps to get Jason to slip up in front of Bruce and lose his Goldechild status and it always fails (or Jason turns it so he comes out looking even better) and there getting so frustrated and then. Jason is just. Revealed as Red Hood?

Tim and Dick absolutely loose it: “WHAT!! This whole fucking time we just had to focus on getting dad to bust your shitty crime ring?!!?”

@aviolettrose (adding onto prev) :

Dick and Tim are the last kids staying

•Damian stopped trying when he saw Jason tripping more than once over air

•Cass stopped after Jason helped her with her speaking and asl

•Duke stopped after Jason helped him with an science project

•Steph figured out that Jason is RH and never said anything because thanks to him, Crime Alley got better

But Tim and Dick never stopped because Tim always got compared to Jason. Dick because he has this feeling that there is something and he needs to know what.

Jason: shitty crime ring? Excuse me, it took the whole JL to get me. They only managed it because I didn't want to fight against Wonder Woman, and in the moment, I became careless she was able to catch me. And you guys never noticed anything.

Bruce: You were able to trick not only us but you were able to hold yourself against the JL?

Jason: yes

Dick and Tim:🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

Bruce: I'm proud of you son

Dick and Tim: OH COME ON!? Are you fucking kidding me?!

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@krilati :

There's no way Tim didn't know!

Tim is stalker and Jason is his favorite Robin.

He knows everything. But I'm pretty sure he thinks everyone else already knows. They're too paranoid to talk about it out loud.

Tim is sure that B just doesn't want JL to find out that his son is a crimelord.

They don't know how to talk, this is a normal situation.

@rubydubydoo122 (adding to prev) :

No, Tim was about to find out but then Jason was like ‘do you want to be Robin’ to throw him off scent.

Now Tim’s too busy

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@isupposethisisagoodusername :

Jason, at the biweekly dinner at the manor where everyone goes: Something wrong guys? You all seem awfully tired.

A bit after Bruce rescued Jason from the Joker and he retired, a new criminal showed up.

Red Hood, a crime lord that quickly takes over the Gotham underworld. He's violent and brutal, kills some people but usually refrains from it. He does shoot live rounds and injures people terribly but rarely ever murders.

And the bats are losing their shit over it, they just can't catch the guy, rarely ever crossing paths with him as if he knew their patrol routes and where each of them was at all times.

Jason, at the biweekly dinner at the manor where everyone attends, it's mandatory, if someone doesn't go they get a disappointed letter from Alfred and it fucks everyone up: Hey guys, are you alright? You seem all awfully tired.

Bruce, worried about telling Jason too much to not stress the poor kid out: Don't worry about it kiddo, just a new criminal worrying us.

And Dick catches the small glint of mischief in Jason's eyes as he agrees and drops the subject like Jason would've caught the same glint in his own eyes when they were younger and Dick pulled some prank.

Dick, later that night: alright little Wing. What's up with you? You're plotting something I can tell.

Jason, faking idiocy: me? What, come on, I'm not. You're just upset I moved on from being Robin. Wanna play videogames and eat cereal?

Dick, wanting to play videogames and eat cereal now: I wish, sorry. I've got patrol scheduled for tonight.

Red Hood, even later that night, taunting Nightwing with some dumb voice changer on: Come on Nightwing, where do you think you are, at home playing videogames?

It pisses Dick off so much that Jason legit has to fucking hide to not get caught and he doesn't even know how he managed to escape.

Jason doesn't taunt Dick anymore after that.

Then, one week, Jason is away for some nerd thing and Red Hood shows up on the other side of the country.

Without all the knowledge of where the heroes would be, Red Hood gets caught.

They bring him to the Watchtower and call Batman.

Superman: Batman, I think you'll like to know that we caught that Red Hood criminal of yours.

Batman goes over there with Nightwing because Dick has been dying to beat him up.

Wonder Woman pulls off the helmet and of course the dramatic theater kid fuck has a domino mask underneath that shit.

Red Hood, ashamed, looking the other way with a dumb apologetic smile on: Hey dad.. I can explain...

Nightwing folds over laughing.

Nightwing, fallen on the floor while Batman laughs softly: I fucking knew it you dick!

Red Hood, offended to be called by his brother's designation: Hey fuck you! You're the Dick here!

Batman starts laughing because now they're both bickering like they would as children.

The League is scared because Batman doesn't laugh.

Dick takes so many pictures with Jason tied up and then a concerning amount of children with bat symbols on their suits of armour show up to also take selfies with him.

Red Hood, being untied: I hate you all.

Nightwing jumps him and suddenly all of the children are sparring in the middle of the Watchtower.

The League is concerned for Batman's sanity.

After that, Red Hood is taken off the wanted list and gets a bat symbol on his chest.

He also takes selfies with Wonder Woman.

@aviolettrose (adding onto prev) :

I like this take of the prompt!

I (my opinion) wouldn't "create" the red hood shortly after Jason was rescued, but a few years later, after he traveled and was trained by multiple people (like Talia, Lady Shiva, Duraca, maybe even Ghostmaker idk) (he would blackmail Talia (she and Bruce dated and Jason figured out that she just wanted his DNA for a child) to train him, and they would have after a while a mother-son bond, but after she realized Jason was in danger she sent him away to the All-Castle where he would meet some other people who could train him.)

Also, Jason would try everything to keep the facade of the Golden Boy up, so I don't think that he would taunt Dick, for him to find out so easy

But I love your take on it 🙏🫶

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@twodimensionalboyfriend : he becomes a crime lord on “accident” after an encounter with some people mugging a mom and her son. he manages to save them and scare the mugger off. so he tells a few people what happened to spread word and be careful. word spreads to the gang that runs that block, so they let jason know that they’re gonna look out for him and keep him updated if they ever see anything. jason sees this as an opportunity to keep the neighborhood safe in a way gotham pd was never able to. he then works to acquire more territory through whatever means necessary, and go out as red hood to personally patrol the streets; all while studying for his midterms!!

@profoundlyprocrastinating (adding onto prev) : Jason the accidental crime lord would actually slap

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@spirit-fingers22 :

Bruce, finding out Jason is Red Hood in this AU: WHAT??? JASON!!!

Jason: I had a reason

Bruce: WHAT WAS THE REASON???

@aviolettrose (adding to prev) :

Jason: ... I was bored

Dick: BORED?! WITH YOUR- WAIT. Did you even get your degrees?!

Jason: Of course I did, Dickhead. Who do you think I am ? Tim?

Tim (on the phone): Hey.. Highschool is not for everyone

Dick: So let me get this straight. You got multiple degrees, (other good stuff), while you're one of the most feard crimelords?

Jason: jup

Bruce: *strangly proud*

comments:

@magical-awesome-kid : I’m CRYING!!! Also Diana and Clark know all about Bruce’s one “good, non-crime fighting” kid, and they are both just staring at Bruce being like “nope. You’re just as bad as the rest of us at keeping your kid out of the mess.” Jason does get a clean slate after he explains his operation is largely an undercover operation to protect people, but Dick frames the picture of him tied up.

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : both of them are also freaking out because they have Jason as a babysitter. "TF you mean you didn't knew that your SON sent a duffle bag full of heads to "mAkE a StAtEmEnT". Best detective in the world, my ass!" And Jason just sits there and says, "Oh please, those heads where from pedophiles who had a record of SA children, if anything I did you a favor."

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@owlithere : it'd be even more fun if Jason continued to learn things from LoA and all castes, simply in the form of study trips: everyone thinks he's at some university in Mongolia, the Middle East or wherever, when he got someone to teach him; still've bandits etc so it's not just one secret, it's much more

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : I thought about it as well! That he went on trips where "he builds homeless shelters all over the world", when in reality, he went to the LoA or to the all Castle or he went to Lady Shiva to train his martial arts skills

@owlithere (responding to prev) : also the comedy would have reached its peak if he still has his outlaws (superhero friends - he was Robin so it's expected, but not to this extent) who knew about some of his secrets but never mentioned it, just rolled with it and helped him from time to time

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : YES! Dick feels betrayed because "what do you mean two of my exes knew?!" But also Damian knows the whole lore. He knew it already when he moved in first, because he was still in the league when Jason went there, and Damian plays dumb like "What do you mean you didn't know that Todd was trained by mother? I thought it was an unspoken thing in our family. Like the fact that he has the All Blade". (Jason bribed him, back then, with showing him the All Blade)

(Damian regrets accepting the bribe back then because he could have gotten so much more). Bart is the only one who knew it from Tim's generation and everyone just thought he admired Jason because he was such a good person, but in reality he admired (and feared) him because he is one of the most wanted crimelords since he's 17

@owlithere (responding to prev) : Yes for both of your answers (I love Damian's assumption that it's an open secret and poor Bart and his future knowlage), but consider before he was exposed, Roy and Kori are easy to explain in an everyday situation, but Artemis and Bizzaro or Rose (Essence could propably pass as "weird" girlfirend)

[before being unmasked] Jason probably told them that he met Artemis to interview her about his "medical knowledge in a practical situation" essay and they didn't even bother to ask about Bizzaro, they (Bruce) just assumed he was helping him with his social skills because Bizz is like a big child (and Jay is good with them), Rose well Rose is harder maybe they met before maybe not

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Everyone assumed that his relation (romantic or just friendship) with Artemis just happend is because Jason is a big Wonder Woman fan, and they just thought that it was like a worship thing, yk? Everyone thought he and Bizzaro get so along because Jason took "pitty" on him (his brother's thought that he befriended him because they thought that Jason saw that as a new "charity" thing). And everyone thought that Rose told Jason that

that she doesn't want to be like her father, and they broke up because Jason found out that she still is an assassin. But I haven't figured essence out, yet.

@owlithere (responding to prev) : Once again YES, he probably introduced Essence as his long distance girlfriend (later ex) that he met during college travels, everyone thinks she's a little weird but no more than "normal", they broke up because of said distance, BUT they are still in touch MOSTLY because Jason became friends with her grandmother (and the entire Batfam knows that Jay is liked by too many older women)

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : YES! (Also every partner of Jason has to life with the fear of their family either adopting him or asking him if he couldn't have done better)

@owlithere (responding to prev) : the comment about "if he couldn't do better" got me thinking about Kyle Rayner (and hopping dimensions with Donna), which would take a hell of a lot of explaining - both in the context of Kyle as potential friend/boyfriend and Donna's presence as Dick's twins wonder

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : uhh yes. Bruce asked Jason, after Kyle left, why he would date a lantern and if he couldn't find someone better. (Jason just looked at him and told him, "I don't wanna talk to you right now". He ignored Bruce for a whole month (he went on a business trip), and in this month, Bruce cried every day because his baby wouldn't talk to him. Jason only started to talk to him because Dick threatened him).

and Dick just feels betrayed. "First,you take Roy and Kor'i, and you guys know what? I forgive you guys for not telling me, even after you saw what he did to me. But you Donna? My friend. My sister from another mother. My TWIN in heart. You betrayed me for not telling me, and idk if I could ever forgive you. It's like as if Wally knew and never told me." Wally:👀 Jason:👀 (They know each other from college, and Wally knows because he saw the rh gear once)

@owlithere (responding to prev) : haha omg it just keeps getting better and better, Wally probably could have known it even earlier thanks to Bart (who hinted at it and based on the evidence Wally was sure of it). I like to think that in Kyle's situation, after he was bullied into coming back, Jason simply asked B if he was ready to be the adult in this relationship, and when B started complaining, he left again xD

can we put Constantine in the "knowing" category please? I want someone older to know, to create more drama in JL, and Constantine is a good option for that. Maybe they met by chance at a bar and started complaining about Batman and bonded around it, and since Jason needed to learn more about magic and Constantin needed an extra pair of hands, they became friends, and now RedHood is on JL Dark's emergency contact list, and B didn't notice the addition

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : YES! He definitely knew, and therefore, Zatanna and Raven did, too. I like the fact that at this point, all of Dick friends are in the known. Imagine him complaining about his "perfect" little brother who, apparently, wants to study medicine after his English degree because his degree in business and English isn't enough. And the Titans just look at each other,like, who is gonna tell him?

@owlithere (responding to prev) : I'm crying, all of Dick's friends know, and now I want Tim's to know too, BUT Dick's didn't tell him, becouse a) comedy, b) not my circus not my monkeys mindset (Batfam is crazy), Tim's would assume, like Damian, that it was an open secret (they probably found out about it later than Dick's, beside Bart, but still) or made it an inside joke (well, Tim thinks it's a joke - Jay doesn't have enough time to do it - should be imposible)

ALSO Con found out through Lex and his contacts with RedHood and al Ghuls and assumed that RH was simply a representative of the Batfam when it came to Lutor's "new way of life" (at least in a universe where he is a decent father), Cass found out from Donna (she was telling her some story and forgot for a moment)

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : I can see Tim's titans making an "inappropriate" joke after a fight. Someone: "Damn, he looks bloody...like jay" and they laugh except Tim. Tim just looks at them and says, "Guys, that's not funny. I know I freak out sometimes because of him, but that's no excuse." And it was this moment that Bart realized, that he doesn't know that they know, and he tells the others like, "he doesn't know, that we know, that he doesn't know, you know?"

Ever since Tim's team make "inappropriate" jokes towards Jason. And Tim just assumes that sometimes they are really supportive friends or that his friends have a crush on Jason. And Cass knowing? Love it.

@owlithere (responding to prev) : Yes, Crush! That would also be a funny assumption on Tim's part. He would be so frustrated. NOW I really need someone to write like 100 chapters of this...

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@late-tothe-party-07 : Take it from the "Good Daughter". Just because a good kid is a good kid, doesn't mean they don't wanna beat up crap with a cool mask. They probably want to do it MORE than normal people

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : I know what you mean, sometimes you just need to release this "build up"

It's cheaper than therapy

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@x-atm099 : Additional Shenanigans: Jason accidentally became Red Hood/The most feared crime lord.

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Clark gets a panic attack because he left his son with the most feared crimelord alone. More than once

Yes. Like, what do you mean the guy who hosts charity events for health care stuff, better access to knowledge and so on, is a class A Crimelord?!

@x-atm099 (responding to prev): Like, Falcone tells his driver just to hit the kids in the street instead of stopping/going around. Jason sees it's about to happen and saves the kids, but Falcone dies in the process. Ppl think Jason killed Falcone so other gangsters align with him. Reg ppl saw Jason save the kids so they're loyal to him. Jason gets picked up by some mobsters one day and he thinks he's gonna die but they bring him to his hideout and call him boss.

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : "Here is the monthly wrap up, Boss. Smith sold something to a child, we beheaded him and took the stuff back from the child. We made *a shit ton of money* every week this month. Oh, and Brigitte's dog, Sammy, died last Saturday." "Okay, thank you Miller. Now go back to work." 'Damn, I liked Sammy...' Or he gets "random" respect from criminals. Like idk, who ever is the villian of the week fights Robin and Jason just appears with sunny's, a red hoodie

And a face mask, and the villain just apologize to Red Robin and run away. Meanwhile Tim turns to Jason who stands there like, tf did I do now? And asks why he isn't in the batmobile waiting because "it's too dangerous for him"

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@nixeau : Jason's just pouting in that chair while Bruce processes everything and Dick's is absolutely taking pictures for the group chat

@kifkay : “dick, stop taking pictures, your brother is going to jail”

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : dick: Can I get his pictures from his imprisonment 😇😄😁(yk those pictures with those cards, idk what they're called)

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@why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat : It would be hilarious if Jason actually did get those degrees while starting his criminal empire (on accident, he swears on Bruce's parents graves!) so we could get a nice scene like. Jason's goons helping him with science, Jason going to Dick for help with math, Jason seemingly writing notes during his gangs meetings but actually writing an essay. His family would find him in really weird places (gargoyles, dumpsters, sewers) so he could get the 'right vibes' to study

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Oh, he definitely did get those degrees (i was thinking about a business (bruce was the most proud by this one, because he wants to give Jason WE), english and maybe he wants to start a degree in medicine). Being one of the most feared crimelords ever is just one of his maaaany hobbies, like crocheting or playing like 10 different instruments

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@fortuna-majoris : And the thing is, he invests all the profit he makes into the betterment of the Crime Alley, also he only sells drugs to those who have prescription from a doctor and has paid for rehabilitation for the addicts. After learning all of this siblings are like, 'Can't you stop being the golden child for a minute?'

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : YESS Jason:..so yeah, that's a reason why I do this Dick: Stop. Just stop talking! Why do you have to be sooo perfect? I thought your little charity events are for that?! Did you even spend the money for that?! Why can't you be a crimelord for shit and giggles?! Jason: Of course I did, but it will never be enough, dickhead! Look at Crime alley now! There're better schools, and the drugs are controlled Dick: 🧍‍♂️Fuck you Bruce: *proud af* JL: error 404

@fortuna-majoris (responding to prev) : plus the college he went to, yeah that was true, (he also has a doctorate but only Bruce and Alfred know about it). But the one year sabbatical he took post college where he "travelled" was when he went to the LoA and trained. (Really Bruce should've realised it after he gave the same excuse to the public after he returned from his training)

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Jason is doing meditation ways the same way Bruce and Khoa learned it, and Bruce is not realizing because he's happy that Jason has a healthy coping mechanism. Also, Jason corrects Damian by LoA moves, and everyone just assumes that he's a natural

@fortuna-majoris (responding to prev) : agreed. Tim was kinda suspicious of him after he visited (blew up) LoA but after Jason mentions the Dal Makhani of Delhi (he wasn't actually there) that he tasted during his 'travels', his suspicions slowly fade away

that is hilarious. Imagine him just telling Tim that he has never been to India and he regularly sends Talia letters and that Ra still has his spleen while laughing. He also tells Cass that she did well when she fought against Lady Shiva and that he was there to witness it. Imagine their frustration. It would be hilarious

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : YEEESSS, Jason correcting Damian by a LoA move and everyone just assumes that he's a natural lmao

@fortuna-majoris (responding to prev) : while Dames just side eyes him. But the very next moment, Jason trips over air and falls down. Dames then think that 'If mother has taught this fool, he wouldn't trip over air' and let's go of the suspicion

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@siliceouspebble : Why would he go on scholarship? Bruce is loaded!! He could afford to send all his kids to college multiple times over?!

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Jason doesn't want to be dependent on Bruce. Dunno if you know that, but when you grow up poor, money will always be a complicated topic because you don't want to make yourself depending upon someone, and I want Jason to still have this mentality. He will tell Bruce that he wants to pay him back for all the medical bills from when he was rescued

@siliceouspebble (responding to prev) : I kinda thought about that but considered the angle of him thinking he'll be taking the scholarship away from talented people with no fallback plan besides heaping amounts of debt.

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : he could support the college with a part of the money he makes as a crimelord, so technically he would "pay" for his degree, while also paying for other scholarships

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@lenacraft : It would be funny if Jason actually does become a doctor and needs to Zeta down while after they’ve unmasked him. “I didn’t break the Hippocratic Oath because Red Hood is no a doctor.”

@fortuna-majoris (responding to prev) : personally, I think he would get a doctorate in English Literature and a masters in Teaching. But this scenario is hilarious

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : I thought that he already has his degree in Business (Bruce wants to give him WE ever since), does one in English currently, and wants to start medicine afterward, but maybe he did medicine since the beginning because he thought those doctors who helped him were amazing and he wants to help people

Jason straight up gaslight a while family of detectives

@fortuna-majoris (responding to prev) : ykw? Makes sense. As a person who wants to do Law and then (after retiring) wants a doctorate in English, I can get behind that

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : yes, Jason, part-time student, part-time crime Lord, while doing full-time professional gaslighting

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@u5an5 : I like the idea of him having A+ student priviliges, where he could straight up walk into public toilet in full suit, come out still wearing it besides his hood and only coment he'd get is "Looking good, Jay!" or ask them for details about something he has no reason to even know about in first place and they'd go "Oh wow, my brother shure cares about me, asking how my day went"

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Yes, Past: Jason, still wearing his Red Hood gear except for his helmet: hard night? The others: Oh Jason, hun, don't worry about our silly little problems with Red Hood. Concentrate on your essay Now: The Bats: Are we really that dense? The JL: best detectives, our ass

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@hedgehogcryptid : This is a most blessed concept. His siblings looking at him being the golden child with perfect grades and dedicating any spare moment to charity, telling themselves "I could totally do that, I'm just too busy RISKING MY LIFE TO SAVE PEOPLE" but then finding out Jason was ALSO creating and running a lucrative criminal empire, getting extra training AND gaslighting his family about it, which would make the entire thing even harder and more time consuming. They'd be livid

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : lmao Jason: ...that's how I managed to do it, without you guys knowing anything Bruce: Jason, I know I should be mad, but I'm proud of you, actually. Dick: *eye tweaking* Yeah, we all are so proud. I mean, we barely manage it to keep our two life's super, and you managed it perfectly. Like you always do🙂 Other Batkids: Yeah, totally, proud Damian:...I'm still a child that has to count as a Joker, right? OBK: OH SHUT THE F UP! Now you're a child?!

@hedgehogcryptid (responding to prev) : The JL, after listening to Jason's confession: *nervous sweating* we are soooo lucky this kid has somewhat working morals. So so lucky

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Jason: Also, I would never do anything against the JL JL: *no sweat* t-thats good to know Jason: Because I don't want to hurt Wonder Woman JL, to Diana, telepathically: If you leave us, we will kos The bats: of course, because of her

@hedgehogcryptid (responding to prev) : That was the only thing the bats knew for sure in this whole situation. He might have been lying about everything for years, but he was NOT lying about his admiration of wonder woman

@aviolettrose (responding to prev) : Jason would never lie about the women he admires (the bats thought that Jason dated Artemis only because she's Amazonian like WW, kinda like a worshiping thing, yk?)

tags:

@shadowkat2000 : #I feel like he was having a bad night frustrated studying and started brainstorming how to become a crime lord#just to distract himself#and then ended up having a good plan deciding fuxk it and did it

@mockerd3light : #this is fucking gold#delicious crack#of his sibs just DOGGING on him because they FINALLY have the dirt on the 'golden child'#what was that bruce??#'why cant you take a break and go to college like Jason?' 'why dont you give up this dangerous line of work like Jason?'#'my pride and joy' Jason who is a CRIME LORD#get WRECKT Bruce

@fantasycantasy : #fuck dude this is incredible#I think Dick would laugh so hard he’d either pass out or piss himself#Jason being an icon

@ive-been-mostly-dead-all-day : #i love everything about this#its just#SO fucking funny#hands down the BEST day in each of his siblings' lives#not a single one of those bastards are ever going to let him live this down#i feel like there should be a plot twist somewhere about tim knowing about this#but they had a MAD-style agreement because tim is also routinely lying to bruce's face about all sorts of shit#“Keep your mouth shut about this and I won't tell Bruce about the batmobile you hid in the batarang budget”

fanfic spawned from this:

@ezra129799 's A Golden Child Painted Red

@radioactivepidgeons 's A young goat with my friends /and/ Your share of the inheritance /and/ Prodigal Son (Ao3) (tumblr)

A fanfic idea:

Bruce was able to rescue Jason before he died, and after this experience, Jason stopped being Robin.

He became afterwards the golden child, he goes to college (with a scholarship), helps out in the city library, teaches children (helps with their homeworks and helps them to study), works part time in a car garage in crime alley, and is a supportive brother.

And it pisses his siblings off.

Because there has to be something fishy because no one, really no one, is that perfect.

And there is something fishy.

He is also Red Hood.

No one knows, and the vigilantes never talk to Jason about "the family business" because he needs to concentrate on his studies and other stuff.

So imagine, Batmans suprise when the JL was able to catch Red Hood.

Someone takes Jasons helmet off in front of Batman, Nightwing, and other members

And Jason, who wears also a domino mask, doesn't look Batman in the face even as he says :

"Hey Dad. I can explain."

And Dick loses his shit, he laughs so hard because, Jason, The golden child, the one who gave up on being a vigilante, who reads to children in the library, is a goddamn crimelord.

Bruce just stands there frozen because wtf Jason?!

And Dick takes selfies with Jason being tied up and calles the other Batkids in because they should definitely not be left out of it.

(Edit: As someone who doesn't really write (or can write good stories), I want to say, feel free to use this prompt for a fanfiction. Just please give credits to me (because I don't know if someone else had also this idea and posted it) and please inform me if you publish something (because I want to read a fanfiction like this too))

[heyyoufriendthere]

Nobody asked, but hey. I’m unreasonably sure of myself when it comes to comic book opinions.

Aunt May doesn’t know Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

I mean, she does NOW, but for a good majority of Peter’s career from the sixties up? Hell no. I know it’s cute whenever she’s dying to get that scene where she’s “always known,” and fandom LOVES a “it’s SO obvious when you think about it” moment for when they want to dump on the medium, but no. May Parker doesn’t know he’s Spider-Man and- more importantly- she DOES NOT want to know, and I like it that way.

“Why?” I hear you ask. “She’s been basically his mom since he was a little freaky marvel baby! Who on earth knows him better than her? How on earth couldn’t she have figured out her beat to shit nephew wasn’t Spider-Man when he’s basically just leaving his blood and costume all over his room?”

1. Because as feel good as it is, the Parker household isn’t sunshine and roses. May and Peter shut themselves off for years after Ben died. They love each other to death, but they don’t communicate. He's either shut away in his room, cracking jokes or off running around doing god knows what.

She's talking around him. Walking on eggshells. They both blame themselves, and it took decades for them to admit that to each other. Peter let the robber go, May chased him off because they got into an argument.

This shared guilt manifests in them both desperately wanting to take care of each other.

First, Peter throws himself into being both the Spider-Man, AND, more importantly, the breadwinner. The boy is broke. You know it, I know it, it's one of the single most iconic and relatable things about him. He gets weird about it. He's ALWAYS worried about it. I hear he might even have a money-worrying disease.

Money or the lack thereof has always been important to the mythos, even before Ben's death, but before Ben dies it manifested in things like Peter wanting a car or motorcycle the family couldn't afford and doing a wrestling gig. After Ben dies, his priorities shift.

He treats Aunt May like she’s made of glass (to be fair, she kinda is. Early Spider-Man has that woman fainting or having a heart attack every other week. Her constitution is held up by tissues, the US Healthcare system and Anna Watson’s unbreakable back muscles.)

Now, on top of being a near full time super hero, he's also saddled himself with the responsibility of taking care of the only parental figure he's got left in life while also trying to juggle both school and spending time with a friend group whose bank accounts aren't worried about when Jonah's feeling particular chipper about paying his employees.

Now he's trying to cover May's medical bills. Now he's trying to cover the rent. Now he's more worried about leaving May alone to live with Anna when his burgeoning friendship with Harry Osborn and the Coffee Bean Gang has netted him a free, all expenses paid apartment.

Meanwhile.

May's doing the exact goddamn thing. Richard and Mary dying the way they did kicked off the Parker family habit of keeping secrets, and Ben dying kicked her s-mothering into overdrive. She starts doting on him in a way that makes him feel like a child (modern depictions will try to convince you he was an itty bitty baby boy when he got his powers. They're lying. He was out of high school like 30 issues after Amazing Spider-Man #1.)

She's pawning her jewelry. She's trying to set him up with Mary Jane because she knows what's best for him (he needs someone fun and energetic because he's so quiet, and it's certainly not going to be that awful Betty Brant who will keep him on his toes).

Her entire idea of their relationship is that he's functionally helpless and she needs to take care of him. She’s not getting younger! Practically has one foot in the grave! That’s why she needs to put on an act to show him that everything is fine.

Richard and Mary are dead. Ben is dead. She's barely functioning on her and Ben's savings, the things she can sell and the money Peter's bringing in from his photography work. But it’s fine! Everything is fine and life will be just a bit brighter with a nice schmear on the bagel.

(Shout out to JM DeMattheis for showing up in the 90's to inject some fucking LIFE into Aunt May. Look at that quirked eyebrow. What a legend. Never read his Doctor Fate run, it will give you hives.)

2. Because, contrary to popular belief, Peter’s VERY good at hiding his identity and gaslighting his friends and family, especially when you combine his GGG skills with the good old Parker luck and its passive debuff to everyone's collective sanity.

Is this not the face of a woman doing okay in her relationship with New York's Friendly Neighborhood dirtbag?

I blame the Ultimate Spider-Man cartoon (he's fine with Shield immediately revealing his identity to a group of teen heroes? Absolutely the fuck not.) and the continuing woobification of comic books for how much this idea that Peter's inherently bad at keeping his identity secret comes up, because it's backbreaking work Peter doing to pull the wool over all of their eyes.

Why is he late? His job. Why is he never around? His job. What could his excuse be this time? Aunt May had her bi-weekly heart attack. Why is he beat to hell and back? He got hurt in the middle of getting pictures of Spider-Man. Why won't he ask for help? Why do none of his friends find this suspicious?

Part of it's because he didn't have friends in High School except for Betty and Liz Allen. He was an angry loner too stuck up his own ass about how smart he was to take the NUMEROUS opportunities presented to him to actually engage with his peers except to fight with Flash, (don't let modern depictions fool you either. Flash Thompson and Peter Parker weren't Bully and Bullied, they were enemies. They gave as good as they got. That's also, not coincidentally, why Gwen and Harry's first impressions of him in college were that he was rude little jackass).

So by the time he's in college and finally has a social life, literally everyone is used to him being a flake.

Which isn't to say that's the only way he's keeping his secret.

Here's the first of a few attempts to tell people exactly who he is.

Peter has a habit of telling his friends the truth they need to hear you see. Sometimes when he's delirious, sometimes when he's not, like here at Gwen's birthday party.

Or here when he's finally resolved himself to stop ruining his girlfriend Debbie's life after numerous therapy sessions about how she knows he's Spider-Man.

But that'll never be the end of it! He can't just out himself to the people he loves! No! He just made Gwen cry! Think about what this would do to May! So he does things like going to Hobie Brown to help him sucker the gang back into blissful ignorance.

Or walking back his reveals the second someone doesn't take them seriously.

After all, if it's fixed her and she doesn't suspect a thing, why bother telling her the truth? Yeesh. She goes on to write a book about it, it’s very funny.

But you get my point. Peter gets both very good at keeping his identity secret and is very wary of actually telling anyone over the years, to the point that just about the only people who knew leading up to the Civil War reveal were Mary Jane (don't you love a friendly neighborhood retcon?), the Fantastic 4, off again/on again dead or dying Harry/Norman Osborn, and Black Cat.

Otherwise it’s just people with superpowers or extenuating circumstances ENTIRELY out of his control that find out, like when he gets ambushed by Serial Sniffers like Wolverine and Daredevil. Or when he gets outed by his gooey ex Venom after it oozed onto Eddie Brock. Or the occasional psychic like Cyclop’s and Jean Grey's time/dimension adrift fail-son Nate Grey.

But this is a post about Peter and Aunt May, so let's get back to that before I run wild and free on another tangent.

3. Aunt May has had so many opportunities to know his secret. She finds his costume in his room!

She's literally seen a whole doll made of web fluid in his bed! She faints immediately of course, it was the sixties, but what does he do? Does he say, "Oh Aunt May, I'm so sorry I've been lying to you for awhile, I'm actually Spider-Man"? No! Of course he doesn't! He lies about why the hell there was a webbing doll in his fucking bed!

But why does she believe him?

Because it all comes back to this.

If Aunt May knows three things, it's that Aunt May knows her nephew.

Aunt May knows reality.

And Aunt May knows that she HATES Spider-Man.

Wait what?

Yeah! Aunt May hates Spider-Man, go figure. That rotten motherfucker is the cause of so much grief in her life. Why is Peter getting hurt? He's taking pictures of Spider-Man. Who's always causing trouble in the Daily Bugle? Spider-Man. She's set to marry Otto Octavius, and who shows up to ruin it? Spider-Man. George Stacy died, orphaning Gwen?! Spider-Man! GWEN DIED? SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-FUCKING-MAN!

She hates him so much that she pulls a gun on him. She fires it! There's a BKOW effect and everything!

Let that sink in. Not only is this the only time Aunt May has ever used a gun in the main continuity, but it's pointed at him. In her purse you'll find petty cash, some important documents, her change purse, a cooking utensil or two, and Aunt May's Glock For Spider-Man.

To me, Aunt May not knowing and not wanting to know is an important part of the character because her not being able to square these two things she knows are true in the same round hole makes her even more compelling. Peter Parker is her frail nephew who she loves more than anything in the world and Spider-Man is singlehandedly the largest, most destructive cause of stress for the Parkers. If her finding out isn't a shock, if it isn't negative, then something is wrong with the reveal.

Because you can't tell me that this woman finally coming to terms with the fact that Peter Parker is Spider-Man is going to be a peaceful affair. That she'd know and just be waiting for him to tell her.

This is a woman who hates and loves with a passion. Peter is her son and she's going to do what any good mother would do if they found out their kid is actively putting himself in harms way and lying about it to their face. Fic culture and games like Insomniac's Spider-Man, LOVE to smooth over all of her edges. She's the perfect, prim, caring Aunt May with infinite patience and a penchant for dramatic reveals. Can she be sad? Sure. Happy? Always. Worried about her nephew? No problem. Sometimes she can even be disappointed.

But angry? Not the perfect mother? No we can't have that, what about our feel good narrative? God forbid if she occasionally bites Peter the way he bites everyone around him! That would sully the message!

I don't know. I've spent the past five hours typing this up and finding my various images. Section 2 had to be cut way down because I can't hop across 12 more runs looking for the way he let Harry get trucked off to a mental hospital or how he burned Norman's goblin suits to keep him from relapsing from his amnesia and revealing his identity.

Long story short. Let May kill a man. Let her have a reaction less tepid than gasping out how proud she is of Peter. It's what makes those moments when she starts harassing Jonah and the Bugle feel so much better. It's why it's so cathartic to see them finally reconcile. Smooth Aunt May has never and will never hit the same.

[nakylvr]

— DREAMER GIRL ✧ M.S

summary જ⁀➴ general hcs with lacrosse player!megan

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ hcs, lacrosse player!megan, sports medicine major!f!reader, fluff, suggestive, established relationship

part one | part two

• lacrosse player!megan who is on a athletics scholarship, and is nearly failing all her classes except physical education for obvious reasons

• megan who was known as the "literal player" of the lacrosse team despite never actually playing any girl before, she would just get scared and do something stupid to piss them off and stop talking to her

• megan who is actually terrified of being loved unconditionally, dealing with coaches, her mom, and school in general, she grew used to people loving her cause she was convenient, not cause they actually loved her – or they wanted something from her

• megan who watched you from afar in every class you two were in together, but never saying anything cause she was too scared to go forward with her first real crush in her life

• megan who learned info about you through daniela which was through chaewon, literally writing it down in her phone notes to remember the little things

• megan who opens up more the longer she's with you. even if she's slow, it's progress. she's still afraid of loving someone, thinking she isn't good enough for you, but your constant reassurance helps her a little bit

• megan who still texts some girls that are obviously trying to hook up with her, cause she doesn't realize that's what they want. you caught her one day and it caused the first real argument in your relationship, and it made her realize that she didn't want to lose you, not to anything or anyone

• megan who watches cooking videos to surprise you with something new if you're having a rough day or just cause she's bored and wants to do something nice

• megan who teared up when you showed her the custom jersey you got with her last name and number on the back, but grins widely when she sees you wearing it at a game

• megan who brings you to every practice and game, claiming she does better when you're around – and she is, actually to your surprise

• megan who is the chaos to your calm, she may be dramatic about everything, but she always ropes you into it and giving you the time of your life you never would enjoy by yourself or with others

• helping megan with leg exercises cause she's worried she might tear something again, coming up to you and quietly asking if you can help her out so she doesn't do something stupid and hurt herself (she has before)

• also helping megan study for tests and classes, leaving video/audio notes of everything in case she misses a class or doesn't understand it in class and needs it better explained, though sometimes it ends with her dragging you to your bed cause she "thinks you're hot when talking all smart"

• megan who buys the most random things when she's at away games, telling you it reminded her of you so she immediately got it, it ranges from cute little trinkets to some...other things

• megan who goes all out for your birthday every year after you start dating. she makes a cake, food, buys presents, or takes you out to some expensive fancy restaurant that she can barely afford, doing it cause she wanted to spoil you

• megan who always asks for a good luck kiss before a game and a victory kiss when her team wins

• cooking her favorite food when she's stressed and she just looks at you like you're her whole world (you are)

• megan who gets terrified whenever you two fight, worried that she'll say the wrong thing and lose you forever

• and when you do fight, she always takes the blame even if it isn't her fault. she can never stay mad at you, and will be the first to break the silence majority of the time.

• megan who hosts movie nights every saturday night for you both, making popcorn and buying a ton of snacks and drinks, setting up a fort in your living room and watching any movie you pick

• megan who kisses you like it's the first time every time, her hands shaking trying to find your waist and pull you closer, and her face bright red when you pull away

• megan who says "i love you" for everything, if you do something for her, when she's leaving for practice, or sometimes for no reason when you're cuddling in bed. she just wants you to know she loves you, more than anything else

[lieyarzy]

Hii :] this is my first request so I hope you don't mind! If you don't feel comfortable doing it it's totally fine! :}

If you don't mind can you do a scenario or story (not actually sure what it's called) for kpop demon hunters, the Saja boys when your secretly dating one of their members like Abby or Romance or baby (you can pick, or do 2 or both of them) and your apart of Huntrix and they find out and their reaction isn't good.

Oh…OH!!! This is a good one…ya’ll better be ready cause it ain’t gonna be my fault.

I did all the members, cause I was like “erm🤓☝️ only 2?? Nah we going all out on this one”

Also, thank you google for the words that you have given meaning too…ily

Jinu: Crimson Lies

The air in the Saja Boys' practice room crackled with tension, thicker than the lingering scent of sweat and cheap air freshener. Jinu, usually the calm center, fidgeted, his gaze darting nervously to the others. Abs, his usual stoic composure replaced by a simmering anger, stood rigidly by the wall. Baby, surprisingly quiet, fiddled with a stray guitar pick. Mystery, his expression inscrutable as ever, leaned against a speaker, his eyes narrowed. Romance, usually overflowing with emotion, paced restlessly, his face a mask of worry.

It had started with a seemingly innocuous photograph—a blurry paparazzi shot of Jinu and Y/N, a member of HUNTR/X, the notorious demon-hunting group, sharing a tender moment. The photo was quickly deleted from the internet, but not before it reached the Saja Boys’ phones.

Abs broke the silence, his voice dangerously low. "So, Jinu. Care to explain this?" He held up his phone, displaying the blurry image.

Jinu swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "It's…not what it looks like."

Baby, ever the pragmatist, cut in, "Yeah, it looks like you're holding hands with a demon hunter. Pretty straightforward, actually."

Mystery, his voice a chilling whisper, said, "This is a serious breach of security. A demon hunter…involved with one of us?"

Romance, his voice trembling, added, "This could get us all killed, Jinu! Do you understand the risks?"

Jinu, his voice cracking, finally confessed. "I…I didn't know she was a hunter. We met at a charity event. It just…happened."

Abs scoffed. "‘Just happened’? You fell for a demon hunter? You’re dating someone who hunts our kind, Jinu! Do you have any idea how unbelievably stupid that is?"

Baby, surprisingly calm, said, "So, are we going to kill her, or what? I'm hungry." His casual tone only amplified the tension.

Mystery, his expression unchanging, said, "We need to assess the damage. Has she learned anything? Does she suspect anything?"

Romance, his voice thick with emotion, said, "This isn't just about the mission, Jinu. This is about our lives. Our friendship…" He trailed off, his voice choked with unshed tears.

The ensuing argument was a maelstrom of accusations, recriminations, and desperate pleas. Abs’s anger was a volcanic eruption, his words sharp and cutting. Baby, despite his nonchalant exterior, was clearly concerned, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a grim seriousness. Mystery's quiet intensity was chilling, his words laced with a cold, calculating assessment of the situation. Romance’s emotional turmoil was palpable, his voice cracking with a mixture of anger, fear, and betrayal.

Jinu, overwhelmed by the weight of their accusations, remained silent, his guilt palpable. He had risked everything for a love he hadn't fully understood, a love that now threatened to destroy everything he held dear. The crimson stain of his secret threatened to consume them all. The future hung precariously in the balance, a delicate dance between loyalty, love, and the chilling reality of their dangerous world.

Abs/Abby: Shattered Facades

The air in the Saja Boys' dorm hung heavy with unspoken tension. Abs, usually the stoic rock of the group, sat rigidly on the edge of his bed, his face a mask of controlled fury. A crumpled photograph lay on the floor beside him – a paparazzi shot, blurry but unmistakable, showing him and Y/N, a member of HUNTR/X, sharing a quiet moment in a secluded park.

Baby, surprisingly calm despite the gravity of the situation, casually flipped through a magazine, his usual playful demeanor strangely muted. Mystery, his expression unreadable as always, observed the scene from his usual spot by the window, his eyes narrowed. Jinu, usually the peacemaker, paced anxiously, his face etched with worry. Romance, his emotions always close to the surface, sat slumped on the sofa, his shoulders shaking silently.

Abs finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, "So. Care to explain this?" He gestured to the photograph.

Baby looked up from his magazine, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "That's…awkward. Didn't expect you to have a soft side, Abs."

Mystery, his voice a chilling whisper, said, "This is more than awkward, Baby. This is a catastrophic breach of security. A demon hunter…involved with one of us?"

Jinu, his voice tight with concern, said, "Abs, this is serious. What were you thinking?"

Romance, his voice barely a whisper, added, "We could all be in mortal danger. This could ruin everything."

Abs, his jaw clenched, finally spoke. "I…I didn't know she was a hunter. We met at a recording studio. It just…happened."

Baby snorted. "‘Just happened’? You, Abs? Mr. Stoic, Mr. Unflappable, fell for a demon hunter? That's rich." His casual tone only amplified the underlying tension.

Mystery’s eyes narrowed. "Did she know who you were? Did she suspect anything?" His tone was devoid of emotion, but the underlying threat was palpable.

Jinu, his voice shaking, said, "Abs, we need to figure out what to do. We can't let this jeopardize the mission."

The ensuing argument was a brutal clash of personalities and emotions. Abs's controlled fury was a terrifying force, his words sharp and cutting. Baby's casual cynicism, while seemingly detached, only served to highlight the gravity of the situation. Mystery's cold assessment of the risks was chilling, his words laced with a threat that hung heavy in the air. Jinu's concern for the mission and their friendship was genuine, his pleas for understanding heartfelt. Romance's emotional outburst was raw and painful, his words a mixture of betrayal and fear.

Abs, usually the pillar of strength, was left reeling under the weight of their accusations. He had risked everything for a connection he hadn't fully understood, a connection that now threatened to shatter everything he held dear. The façade of control he had carefully constructed crumbled, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. The future of the Saja Boys, their mission, and Abs's own life hung precariously in the balance.

Romance: Whispers of Betrayal

The Saja Boys' dorm was usually a chaotic blend of music, laughter, and playful banter. Tonight, however, a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional nervous cough. Romance, usually the most emotionally expressive member, sat slumped on his bed, his face buried in his hands. The others—Abs, Baby, Mystery, and Jinu surrounded him, their expressions a mixture of concern and suspicion.

The revelation had come in stages. First, a fleeting glimpse of Romance and Y/N, a member of HUNTR/X, sharing a tender moment during a music awards show. Then, a series of seemingly innocuous details—a shared glance across a crowded room, a whispered conversation overheard in the hallway, a subtle touch during a performance. Finally, a grainy paparazzi photo, confirming what they had already suspected.

Abs, his voice low and dangerous, broke the silence. "So, Romance. Care to explain this?" He held up his phone, displaying the blurry image.

Baby, surprisingly calm, leaned back against the wall, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a detached curiosity. "Well, this is certainly…interesting. Didn't peg you for the sneaky type, Romance."

Mystery, his expression unreadable, said, "This is a serious breach of security. A demon hunter…involved with one of us?"

Jinu, his voice tight with concern, added, "Romance, this is incredibly reckless. Do you understand the risks?"

Romance looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and despair. "I…I didn't know she was a hunter," he whispered. "We met at a charity event. It just…happened."

Abs scoffed. "‘Just happened’? You fell for a demon hunter? You're dating someone who hunts our kind, Romance. Do you have any idea how unbelievably stupid that is?"

Baby, his tone still surprisingly detached, said, "So, are we going to kill her, or what? I'm getting hungry." His casual comment only heightened the tension.

Mystery, his voice a chilling whisper, said, "We need to assess the damage. Has she learned anything? Does she suspect anything?"

Jinu, his voice tight with concern, said, "Romance, we need to figure out what to do. We can't let this jeopardize the mission."

The ensuing argument was a maelstrom of emotions. Abs's controlled fury was terrifying, his words sharp and cutting. Baby's detached cynicism only served to underscore the gravity of the situation. Mystery's cold, calculating assessment of the risks was chilling. Jinu's concern for their mission and their friendship was genuine, his pleas for understanding heartfelt. Romance's emotional turmoil was raw and painful, his pleas for forgiveness desperate.

The argument continued late into the night, a painful dissection of trust, loyalty, and the consequences of their actions. The whispers of betrayal echoed through the dorm, a chilling reminder of the precarious balance between their mission, their friendships, and the dangerous world they inhabited. The future of the Saja Boys hung precariously in the balance, their unity fractured, their bond tested to its limits. The weight of their secret, and the potential consequences, threatened to consume them all.

Mystery: Shadows of Deception

The Saja Boys’ practice room was usually a haven of creative chaos, a vibrant tapestry woven with the threads of music, laughter, and playful banter. Tonight, however, an unsettling stillness hung in the air, thick and heavy like a shroud. The usual vibrant energy was replaced by a palpable tension, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken truth that hung between them.

It hadn't been a dramatic revelation, no explosive confrontation or shocking discovery. Instead, it had been a slow, insidious unraveling, a series of seemingly insignificant details that, when pieced together, painted a disturbing picture. A shared glance across a crowded room, a whispered conversation overheard in the hallway, a subtle touch during a performance—all pointing towards a secret relationship between Mystery and Y/N, a member of the notorious demon-hunting group, HUNTR/X.

Abs, his face a mask of controlled fury, broke the silence, his voice low and dangerous. "Mystery," he began, his tone devoid of any warmth. "We need to talk."

Baby, surprisingly calm amidst the tension, leaned back against a speaker, his usual playful smirk replaced by a thoughtful frown. "This is…unexpected. I always thought Mystery was above such…mundane attachments."

Jinu, ever the peacemaker, nervously adjusted his glasses. "This is serious, Mystery. We need to understand the implications."

Romance, his emotions always close to the surface, paced restlessly, his face a mixture of worry and betrayal. "This could jeopardize everything we've worked for," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Mystery, his expression unreadable as ever, remained silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, chilling murmur that sent shivers down their spines. "I…I didn't know she was a hunter. At least, not at first." His confession was a slow drip of poison, each word carefully chosen, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken lies.

The ensuing argument was a brutal clash of personalities and emotions. Abs’s controlled fury was a terrifying force, his words sharp and cutting. Baby’s detached cynicism only served to underscore the gravity of the situation. Jinu’s attempts to mediate were met with resistance, his pleas for understanding falling on deaf ears. Romance’s emotional turmoil was raw and painful, his words a mixture of betrayal and fear.

Mystery, usually the enigmatic observer, was now at the center of the storm, his carefully constructed façade crumbling under the weight of their accusations. His silence, once a source of intrigue, now felt like a damning confession. The shadows of deception cast long, dark tendrils across the room, threatening to consume them all. The future of the Saja Boys, their mission, and Mystery's own fate hung precariously in the balance.

Baby: The Calculated Risk

The usual boisterous energy of the Saja Boys' dorm was replaced by a suffocating silence. Baby, typically the most carefree member, sat unusually still, his usual playful smirk absent. The others—Abs, Mystery, Jinu, and Romance—were gathered around him, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and simmering anger. The air crackled with unspoken accusations.

The discovery hadn't been a dramatic reveal, but a slow burn. It started with a seemingly innocuous detail—a shared coffee cup glimpsed in a blurry fan photo, a fleeting touch during a live performance, a hastily deleted social media comment. These small, seemingly insignificant details, pieced together by Mystery’s sharp observation, revealed a shocking truth: Baby was secretly dating Y/N, a member of HUNTR/X.

Abs, his face a mask of controlled fury, broke the silence. "Baby," he began, his voice dangerously low, "explain this."

Mystery, his expression unreadable, simply nodded, his silence more damning than any words.

Jinu, ever the peacemaker, tried talking it out with him. "This is serious, Baby. We need to understand the implications."

Baby, surprisingly calm, met their gazes directly. "I…I didn't think it mattered," he admitted, his voice surprisingly steady. "She's…different. Not like the others."

Abs scoffed. "Different? She's a demon hunter, Baby. Someone who hunts our kind. You've taken an unbelievable risk."

Mystery, his voice a chilling whisper, said, "Did she know who you are? What did she learn?"

Jinu, his voice tight with concern, added, "Baby, we need to assess the damage."

The ensuing argument was a chaotic blend of accusations, recriminations, and desperate pleas. Abs's controlled rage was a terrifying force. Mystery's cold assessment of the risks was chilling, his words laced with a threat that hung heavy in the air. Jinu's attempts to mediate were met with resistance. Romance's emotional turmoil was raw and painful, his words a mixture of betrayal and fear.

Baby, however, remained surprisingly calm, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a steely resolve. He hadn't acted recklessly; he'd made a calculated risk, a gamble on a connection that transcended the boundaries of their dangerous world. But now, the consequences of his choice threatened to consume everything he held dear. The future of the Saja Boys, their mission, and Baby's own life hung precariously in the balance. The weight of his secret, and the potential consequences, threatened to shatter their carefully constructed world.

BTS———————————

Author:”fml, what other words that a term ‘sad’ has”

Author:”I’m repeating the words..fk this idc *post”

Author:”*Relaxing atm, realizes she did not update the story…”

[ashthesalamipiece]

Dabi x reader but they have a son who’s like 14-15 and has always been such a mamas boy and Dabi teasing him for it

"Mama's Boy"

Setting: A quiet weekend afternoon at home

Characters: Dabi (Touya Todoroki), Reader, your 14/15-year-old son

Genre: Domestic fluff, humor, light teasing

POV: 3rd person

---

The house was unusually quiet — which was rare. You were curled up on the couch, flipping through a book, enjoying the rare moment of peace. The smell of tea lingered in the air, and the soft hum of music from the kitchen gave the house that lived-in kind of comfort.

Dabi leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his scarred lips.

“Y’know,” he drawled, “for a teenager, he sure still clings to you like he’s five.”

You glance up at him, amused. “Who?”

He tilts his head toward the hallway — and right on cue, your son shuffles in, hoodie half-zipped, hair a mess from just waking up. He pads barefoot across the living room like a half-conscious cat and wordlessly drops down beside you on the couch, practically molding himself into your side.

“Morning,” he mutters into your arm.

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Dabi says dryly. “Try again, champ.”

Your son groans and doesn’t even bother to look at him. “Whatever.”

You stifle a smile as you smooth his hair, brushing it gently out of his face.

“You see this?” Dabi motions toward the boy with mock disbelief. “This is what I’m talking about. You’d think he was fresh outta the womb the way he’s glued to your hip.”

“I’m tired,” your son mumbles. “And mom’s warm.”

“‘Mom’s warm,’” Dabi repeats in a sing-song voice, a hand pressed to his chest dramatically. “That’s the same excuse you gave when you were ten. And eight. And six. Honestly, I think you peaked emotionally at five.”

Your son finally cracks open one eye and glares over your arm. “You’re just mad because mom likes me more.”

Dabi scoffs. “I’m not mad, squirt. I get it. She’s the nice parent. The soft one. The one that doesn’t roast you for still making grabby hands when she leaves the room.”

“I do not make grabby hands—!”

“You absolutely do,” you say gently, trying not to laugh. “Remember when I left for work last week and you stood in the driveway like I’d abandoned you?”

“That was a joke!” he protests, though his ears are going red.

Dabi lets out a low whistle. “Man, I’d be worried for your future relationships if I wasn’t so damn proud of the commitment. You’re gonna end up writing poems about your high school crush while eating ice cream straight from the tub.”

“I have dignity.”

“You had dignity,” Dabi corrects. “Then you crawled into your mom’s lap like a baby koala.”

Your son groans and buries his face in your shoulder. “Make him stop talking.”

You run a soothing hand through his hair again, biting back a grin. “You know he only does this because he thinks it’s cute.”

“Lies,” Dabi says. “I’m doing this because watching him implode is the highlight of my day.”

Despite all his protest, your son doesn’t move away — just tightens his hold on your arm a little.

“...You're still my favorite parent,” he mumbles, barely audible.

Dabi leans against the wall with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait 'til she makes you do chores. We’ll see who you cry to then.”

Your son huffs but doesn’t reply, already dozing off into that half-sleep teens specialize in. You and Dabi lock eyes for a moment — your smile soft, his gaze a little too fond for someone who spent the last ten minutes teasing his kid.

“He’s really not gonna grow out of this, is he?” Dabi murmurs.

“Do you want him to?” you ask.

Dabi shrugs. “Nah. I like it. Gives me more ammo.”

You laugh and return to your book, Dabi eventually dropping beside the two of you, arms lazily thrown across the back of the couch. And for a while, the house is quiet again.

Warm. Safe.

[deansbeer]

HIIII idk if u remember me but i dm'ed u about ur 40s!dean bot couple of months ago or smth(⁠T⁠T⁠) love ur works and bots queen!!!

so since ur reqs are open now i wanna ask if u have any thoughts on young jensen like in his late teens-early 20s because im wild about him in this era. fluff or smut doesn't matter I'll eat anything with this man on it

hi, sweet angel, i do remember you!! thank you so sooo much 🤍 since you gave me free will, i paired him up with model!reader, since i feel the 90s were very fashion and modeling centered (???) i don’t know lmaoo, but yeah <3

warnings 𓏵 smut | fluff | mentions of alcohol | industry pressures | struggling times | intimidation/nervousness around successful people | semi-public sex | period-typical 90s stuff (?) | oral sex (both f&m receiving) | overstimulation | car sex. (i’m definitely missing some, but i’m too tired to check)

[ cutesy type shit ]

you meet jensen at some industry mixer in a cramped west hollywood penthouse, the kind where everyone’s trying too hard to look like they’re not trying at all. he’s nursing the same beer all night because he can’s afford another one, wearing a dark flannel that’s seen better days over a white tee. when someone introduces you as “that girl from the guess campaign,” he gets this deer-in-headlights look before recovering with ”oh cool, i think i saw that on sunset boulevard.” (he definitely stared at that billboard every time he drove past it).

he’s so broke in those early days, like scary broke. you catch him at craft services during a modeling gig where he’s doing background work, loading up napkins with bagels and fruit “for later.” instead of calling him out, you just start inviting him to lunch after shoots. he always protests at first — “nah, i’m good, i got...” — until you say it’s your treat. his pride takes a hit but his empty stomach wins.

jensen’s got this beat-up toyota corolla that makes concerning noises when it turns left. you’re used to drivers and being driven around, but there’s something charming about him picking you up for dates in his piece of shit car, apologizing when he has to slam the door three times to get it to close properly. “sorry, she’s temperamental. like an old cat.” the radio only gets two stations clearly — classic rock and spanish — so you learn all the words to the songs that had a catchy tune or beat whether you wanted to or not.

he lives with three other aspiring actors in a two-bedroom apartment. the first time you come over, he spends twenty minutes frantically cleaning, which apparently just means shoving everything into closets and spraying an entire can of febreze. his roommate walks out in boxers halfway through your movie date and jensen looks like he wants to die. “dude, i told you she was coming over!” “oh shit, this is her? nice.”

watching him at auditions is painful in the sweetest way. he practices his lines in the car beforehand, running them over and over until you have them memorized too. when he comes out and you ask how it went, he always shrugs and says “probably terrible”even though you know he nailed it. the day he books his first real speaking role (two lines on sweet valley high), he picks you up and spins you around in the parking lot.

he intimidated by your modeling career at first, not in a macho way but in a “what are you doing with me?” way. you catch him looking at your magazine spreads with this expression like he can’t quite believe you’re real. “you know you could date like... actual famous people, right?” he says one night. you shut him up by kissing him senseless. he never brings up the topic again. and if he does, it’s because he loves when you slam your lips on his as a way of shutting him up.

jensen writes his parents these long letters every sunday, telling them he’s doing great, bookings are rolling in, everything’s perfect. you watch him carefully craft these lies with the sweetest intentions, not wanting them to worry. when he finally books days of our lives, the first person he calls is his mom. you can hear her crying in glee through the phone.

he’s weird about money in that prideful small-town texas boy way. when you try to pay for dinner at nice places, he gets this look like you’ve physically wounded him. you learn to be sneaky about it — “accidentally” leaving your card at the bar, telling him you have a gift certificate that’s “about to expire” he knows what you’re doing but eventually stops fighting it.

late nights at denny’s become your thing. 2am grand slams after you wrap a shoot, him coming from waiting tables at some beverly hills restaurant where they make him wear a lil’ bow tie. he does impressions of the customers, you tell him about the photographer who made everyone do nude yoga, and somehow these fluorescent-lit conversations feel more romantic than any fancy date ever.

the way he looks at your portfolio is different from how other guys in the industry do. instead of that calculating, “what can you do for me” gaze, he studies each photo like it’s art. asks about the locations, the photographers, if you were cold during that beach shoot. he remembers every detail you tell him!

when he’s learning lines, you help him run scenes. you’re terrible at it, of course, making him break character and laugh when you dramatically overact the nurse or secretary role. “baby, that’s not... i’ve never heard anybody talk like that.” “excuse me, i'm giving you range.” he starts requesting you specifically as his scene partner, swearing you’re his good luck charm. and he never ever criticizes your bad acting, always finding it amusing.

jensen gets star-struck in the weirdest ways. not by the big names but by working character actors he recognizes from childhood shows. “holy shit, that’s the guy from murder she wrote!” he’ll whisper-yell in your ear at catering, making you giggle. but when actual celebrities hit on you at parties, he just gets quiet and holds your hand a little tighter.

he keeps every magazine you’re in, even the random catalogs and newspaper inserts. you find them stacked neatly in his closet one day. “it’s not weird,” he defends, ears red. “i just... when you’re famous-famous, these’ll be worth something.” you both know that’s not why he keeps them.

summer days by his apartment complex’s questionable pool become your escape. he’s self-conscious about being pale (tv auditions always want that california tan), so you lie on cheap loungers and quiz him on lines while he slowly burns then freckles. the pool is probably 40% chlorine but it’s free and private-ish, minus the kids doing cannonballs

he practices his headshot poses on you, trying to find his “angles.” you teach him the modeling tricks — how to find his light, the tiny chin movements that make all the difference. he feels ridiculous but listens intently, and when his new headshots book him three auditions in a week, he credits you entirely.

[ freaks come out at night type shit ]

that texas boy thing extends to the bedroom — all “yes ma’am” and polite restraint until you make it clear what you want. then something shifts. he’s got this whole southern gentleman act that dissolves the second you climb into his lap, his hands gripping your hips like he’s been thinking about it all day (news flash, he has).

car sex becomes a necessity when you both have roommates. his Toyota’s backseat is barely big enough but you make it work, windows fogging up in some lonely parking garage at 1am. he jokes about feeling like a teenager until you do that thing with your tongue that makes him forget how to speak.

he’s got a praise kink a mile wide, even if he doesn’t know that’s what it’s called. the first time you tell him how good he feels, how perfect he is, he actually whimpers. gets this desperate look like he needs to hear more, so you tell him exactly what he does to you, how he’s ruining you for anyone else, and he loses it completely.

jensen’s possessive in this quiet, intense way. not jealous of your job — he’d never — but when photographers get too handsy or male models hit on you, you see that jaw clench. that night he fucks you like he’s trying to mark you, sucking bruises low on your hips where they won’t show on camera, making you say his name until your throat turns hoarse.

hotel rooms after your out-of-town shoots become your paradise. he drives hours to meet you in random cities when he can scrape together gas money. shows up tired and scruffy from the road, but the second that door closes, he’s all over you. months of sexual tension worked out on random hotel sheets.

he’s absolutely obsessed with going down south on you, could spend hours between your thighs if you’d let him. gets actually upset when you try to pull him up, mumbling “not done yet, darlin’” against your skin. you learn to just let him have his way, gripping his hair while he takes you apart for the third time.

the first time you blow him in his car after an audition, he nearly puts his fist through the window. “fuck, fuck, baby you can’t— ‘m gonna—” barely gets the words out before he’s coming everywhere, then apologizes for like twenty minutes after. you shut him up by climbing onto his lap and riding him until he stops talking entirely.

he’s surprisingly dominant once he gets comfortable, that whole ‘yes ma’am’ thing morphing into him calling the shots. pins your wrists above your head and makes you beg for what you want. “that’s not very specific, sweetheart. tell me exactly where ya need me.” makes you spell it out while he smirks down at you.

quickies in your agency’s bathroom become risky routine. you on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist, his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. the thrill of maybe getting caught, ruining both your reputations, only makes it hotter. he always fixes your hair after, makes sure you look perfect before you go back out.

phone sex while he’s working late shifts at that fancy beverly hills restaurant. he huddles in the back alley on his break, whispering filthy things while you touch yourself in your empty apartment. “wish i could see you right now, bet you look so pretty falling apart.” his voice gets rougher when he’s close, forgetting to be quiet. he almost got caught once by his boss who stepped out for a smoke and he played it off as if he were trying to scare away a raccoon he’d found digging in the trash cans outside.

that texas stamina is no joke. young and eager and so focused on making you feel good. recovers stupid fast, ready to go again while you’re still catching your breath. “just gimme five minutes,” you pant. “i can wait,” he says, then proceeds to kiss down your spine until you’re begging for more and more rounda.

he’s got this thing about marking you where others can’t see. loves leaving bruises on your inner thighs, bite marks on your ribs, fingerprints on your hips. gets off on you being at some fancy shoot, knowing what’s hidden underneath all the designer clothes you wore. “think about that when they’re posing you,” he murmurs, admiring his handiwork.

hotel balconies at golden hour become your favorite risk. you in his lap on some tiny chair, sundress hiked up, him trying to keep quiet as you ride him slowly. the city spread out below, chance of being seen from other buildings, his hands bruising your thighs as he fights not to thrust up into you.

he starts getting more confident as pilot season approaches, that nervous energy manifesting in the best ways. fucks you against his apartment door when his roommates are home, hand over your mouth, daring you to stay quiet. takes you in casting office bathrooms, in his car in broad daylight, anywhere he can get you alone for ten minutes.

the night he books his first series regular role, you celebrate in every room of your quiet apartment. kitchen counter, shower wall, living room floor — he’s insatiable, high on success and possibility. keeps saying your name like a prayer, like you’re his breath of fresh air, like he plans to keep you forever. “gonna move us somewhere better,” he promises between kisses. “gonna give you everything.”

you believe him. because in your eyes, jensen can do anything.

[boopboopedoop]

hi love!! omg your message made me emotional fr 😭 thank you so much for taking the time to say that —you have no idea how much it means to me. i’m so honored to know anything i wrote inspired you to start your own stories... like?? what do i even say to that except thank you times a million. i’m genuinely so excited for you 𖹭𖹭

i took a look at your rules and i was wondering if you’d be up for writing a yoongi x reader one-shot where he lets them play with his hands while he’s rambling about something he loves—and he starts stumbling on his words or getting distracted bc of the physical affection GOD I’M SOFT RN

Track 03: You

Pairing: Idol Min Yoongi x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, gentle intimacy.

Word count: 1,479

| Summary: Yoongi can’t help but fluster when you touch him so gently.

CONY’S note: I know my writings not there yet. I’m still learning and trying to find a style that fits for me. But I can’t deny the joy I felt writing this for my fav fic author so I really hope she enjoys this!

Masterlist

There’s a routine the universe complies to. One that we overlook daily, like the birds flying high in the sky or the mourning leaves crushed under our boots. When the sun rises in the morning, and the moon beckons us goodnight. A farewell meant to recognize the end of the day, a whisper of goodwill meant to help us slumber.

There’s a gentle routine to Yoongi's life too. One that escapes his notice when you appear before him. The stutter of his breath when you're close enough and he catches your scent. The way his eyes follow the curve of your lips when you smile. It’s a routine he follows unknowingly. One that his body accepts as if it was made personally to deliver such commands. Yoongi thinks his body was meant for loving you. Like how the moon was made to whisper us goodnight.

The early mornings stick in his head as he writes lyrics dedicated to the curve of your shoulder, hidden between sheets that hang off your curves. Yoongi makes music to the flutter of your eyes when you eventually wake up to the careful hand he lays on your back.

Yoongi does not solely exist for you.

But there are times when he feels that if you weren’t here on this earth, he would live the rest of his life in search of a piece of his soul that does not feed off his melodies alone.

Yoongi mumbles a curse of frustration as he stares at the monitor in front of him. The hook of the song he's writing feels weak — like it’s clutching its thin fingers to the edge of a seriously high mountain of stability. The beat is something he's proud of. Its simplicity feels deserved; it doesn't need much to sound appealing. He worries if he's overdoing it. What if the lyrics are too corny? What if metaphorical memories are too difficult to understand?

He sighs as he leans back into his chair. The cold coffee that sits on his desk is almost empty, and the ice has started to separate, creating an unpleasant sight. He was thirsty a second ago — now he's just trying to figure out how he’s ever going to fall asleep tonight.

The sound of a soft knock interrupts his thoughts, and he hums a low,

“Come in.”

before turning toward the door.

It’s you. A takeout bag in your hand and a sheepish smile on your face.

“Thought you’d be hungry by now. You’ve been in here for a while.”

Yoongi's small frown dissipates immediately at the sight of you coming closer to sit on the small couch a few feet away from his desk. The scent of his favorite lamb skewers fills the makeshift studio in his apartment.

“Thank you. Could actually use a break right now. I don't think I’m making any progress.”

You make a soft sound of acknowledgment before beckoning him over to sit next to you — and he does.

“I’m sure you're just overthinking it, like you always do, Yoongs,” you say before reaching over to grasp his hand, running your thumb over the back of it. Yoongi’s breath stutters slightly at the simple gesture of your affection.

“I know, but I feel like anything I write just doesn't feel real enough. I want people to understand where I’m coming from, you know?”

You smile at Yoongi softly, your hand still grasping his. You take care to massage his sore fingers from what must have been hours of running over a keyboard again and again.

“You’ll get there, honey. I know you will — you always do.”

Yoongi blushes slightly at your gentle reassurance, his hands warming under your careful attention to his palm. He exhales slightly before nodding at you, eyes fixed on the way your hand meets his.

“What are you working on that’s got you all cooped up in here, anyway?”

You question Yoongi, an eyebrow slightly raised in curiosity.

You rarely ask — out of respect for his privacy. Music is Yoongi's first love. He breathes life into lyrical messages that force people to listen to what he has to say. Some are meant to hide away after a particular stroke of genius, and others are meant to be shared with the world.

Yoongi's music is deeply shaped into his character. There are times when he leaves his studio with red-rimmed eyes and tears threatening to spill over. You always wonder what kind of music he makes in those moments, but you never dare to ask. Sometimes, music is made just to build an escape — and that escape can be just as temporary as any sandcastle. Even with all the love and care that goes into making it.

Yoongi takes a second to think before replying.

“It’s just some side thing I’m working on. Nothing concrete. I doubt the label will let me put it on an album or anything.

It’s just— I feel like I need to make it perfect. Like there's no going back after it’s done, and I need to keep pushing forward before the words escape me. I know it sounds stupid—”

“It doesn’t sound stupid, Yoongs.”

You cradle his other hand.

“I get what you mean. It means a lot to you, right? That you express yourself clearly.”

Yoongi blushes harder involuntarily before nodding.

“I promise you’ll get there. I’ll try to offer advice too, if you’re willing to let me hear it — even though I don’t really know what I’m doing. But I have ears, and I’m willing to help in any way I can.”

Maybe it’s the way you're gripping his hands slightly harder to show how willing you are to help him. Or maybe it’s because of that look in your eyes — that both gentle and stern look you give him when he expresses any doubt in himself.

But Yoongi can’t help but be flustered by you.

You’re still holding his other hand, but now you’re giving attention to the one you haven’t massaged yet — and Yoongi’s heart melts a little further into his chest. He’s sure that if someone peeked inside his chest cavity right now, all they’d see is the way his body has formed into an unattractive pile of goo, barely managing to keep him afloat and attentive in your presence.

You notice his sudden silence — and of course you do. You always notice the little things about Yoongi. Like the little nose scrunch he does when he’s trying not to laugh. Or the awkward way he stands when he’s not sure he’s welcome in a group setting. You always notice the things no one really seems to care to dissect about him. And maybe that’s part of why Yoongi loves you so much.

“You okay, Yoongs?”

You smile and giggle lightly as you question him, noticing the red tips of his ears that almost always appear whenever he’s flustered.

He grumbles stubbornly, averting his gaze to the window in his studio.

“I-I’m fine,” he mumbles.

You start to laugh — not unkindly, but unbearably fond of the way he tries to look at everything else but you in this moment. Your shoulders shake as you lean back into the couch, your eyes lined with tears of mirth as he dramatically pulls his hands away from your lap.

Yoongi eventually starts laughing with you when he sees you nearly fall off the seat in your haze of laughter. The loud screech you let out as you almost hit the floor. The studio soon fills with the sound of your embarrassed cough and his cackle of pure joy at seeing you in his shoes.

Eventually, the laughter dies down and you lean back into the sofa again — this time with the remnants of happiness across your face. Smiles painted across both of you.

“Are we going to eat those lamb skewers now?”

Yoongi questions with a raised brow.

You scoff, but you’re still fighting the smile off your face.

“Of course.”

Yoongi eventually forgets his troubles as you sit side by side on the old, worn couch he’s been meaning to replace for years now. The light sounds of chewing fill the room. He hums gently when he’s done eating. Words begin to work themselves into his head for that new hook.

This time, he thinks he knows what he’s going to say.

There’s a routine that Yoongi’s universe complies to. Like the way your eyes flutter open to the careful hand he lays on your back in the mornings. Or the way you never fail to spark creativity into the dark cloud that can be his mind if he’s not paying too much attention. Sometimes Yoongi can’t help but think his best music is written when it’s you that he has in mind.

And maybe the universe made it so.

Like how the sun rises in the morning, and the moon beckons us goodnight.

When you silently give me a light smile / Only then, I feel a little relieved

SNOOZE - AUGST D

[godmadeaterribleerror]

HAPPY LATE THURSDAY!!!!!

1. yearning olympics, here we come

2. john winchester cannot stop ruining his childrens lives and he's DEAD!!!!!

3. because it is🩷😔

4. and he doesn't even KNOW YET!!!!!!!

5. dean when she's mad at him🥰😍🥹🫠🩷

6. bro's cooked

7. LMAOOOOOOOO

8. i love a sleeping trope what can i say it's about the intimacy

9. Adam's had a long 24 hours he might be in love with a hot older lady (by like, 8-ish years, but still) and she's in a very confusing relationship with his older hald-brother. also he died and she resurrected him.

10. John when woman spark joy😡

11. one shot where they're just helping cas not get fucked by her wards

12. heheheheh you'll see

13. let Dean be LOVED!!!!!!!!!🩷

14. they really are. 4 years apart in age, but twins

15. i know 😔

16. fr all God has done is be creepy🙄

17. hehehehehehehehehehe ✨secrets✨

18. and that's so real of you you're right

19. Cas being a Creature let him live

20. we can share the meal🩷

21. he's not afraid of Dean but he IS afraid of Dean's wrath for waking her up. Dean being pissed about the fate of the world?? nothing. Dean being pissed about HER???????? run.

22. Sam, Princess, and Cas need at history yapping session

23. Cas chose the right side in this war (she could put him in a jar if they weren't besties)

24. fr let them go🤨😬 about god's creepy plan

25. he's just a boy.

26. hehehehehheehhe✨secrets✨

27. he's not about to let his DAUGHTER marry GOD the asshole didn't even ASK HIM FIRST smh

28. ...... the nda

29. he's the most down bad man in the history of down bad men

30. :( free him

31. she's a girlboss

32. give them a chill second

33. she will!!!!! (maybe. nda)

34. THE NDAAAAAAAAA

35. even his own brother's hate him what a loser

36. he really be getting a boner all the time. he loves that crazy woman

37. Cas cannot stop being ominous love that for him

38. LMAOOO she's on one all the time

39. fr she's literally just a girl

40. you get it. try and hurt dean? she'll kill you about it

41. GET HIM!!!!!!!!!

42. She DOES have big dick energy. dean i get u

43. it is😭

44. he won't😔

45. nooooooo (you're so real for that)

46. again. A QUEEN

47. bro got killed like a bug. loser

48. because to him, it is i fear

49. but he's AFRAID

50. ...... don't worry about it right now!!! don't borrow grief from the future

51. Dean really cannont catch a break the people he loves won't calm the hell down

52. there's actually a really specific reason he knows when she's lying, and nobody's caught it yet (or at least told me they caught it) :)

53. HE LOVES THAT CRAZY WOMAN!!!!!!

54. John winchester would be so pissed (good)

55. SHE DID!!!!!!!

56. lmaoooooooo you're right

57. Bobby my king

58. DAD OF THE CENTURY

59. TELL YOUR MOM HI!!!!!!

60. he really is. help him.

61. to be fair she still does feel crazy she's just not afraid he'll leave anymore

62. sure!!!!!! let's go with that!!!!

63. everyone loses their minds when they kiss we're gonna have to throw a party when they fuck

64. .... have you been to chicago.

65. Fr he doesn't give a fuck about anyone but Her??? swaggy bff.

66. FREE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!

67. they cannot stop sacraficing themselves for each other when they just need THERAPY

68. don't judge her you'd do the same

69. 🩷🩷

70. End note: both??? why not both.

71. that is very real of you but remember! don't worry about it!!!!!!!

72 THANK YOU!!!! one day they'll even FUCK (and it's both closer and further than you think)

Chapter 26 - Worth the Fight

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Dean about to take gold in the Yearning Olympics.

Chapter Title from Nettles by Ethel Cain

Word Count: 19.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean picks you and Adam up, and everyone makes some choices. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 25 - Chapter 27

Read on A03!

There are a lot of different types of fear, and Dean Winchester has felt most of them.

There’s the white-hot, fury-made fear he feels during hunts. That one is useful. It’s a fuel. He can brace his body and fly through the fight with ease, swinging and shooting and marching right to the other side. Just like Dad taught him. 

But then there’s the rotting fear, and that one is just annoying. It sort of festers in his throat, and then he can’t damn breathe out of nowhere, the fear having taken months to root with no clear way of how to get it out.

Sammy’s moping in the corner about unleashing the apocalypse, can’t figure out the right words to tell the kid it’s not his fault, and it’s electric under his skin that something horrible is going to happen. Bobby’s trapped in the wheelchair, and Dean isn’t a doctor, but one day that’s going to end in an empty chair and another funeral pier.

But this is the worst fear. The frenzied, wired one, that means something’s gone wrong—why the hell does something always have to go wrong—and Dean won’t be able to feel okay until it’s better.

That one can be about Sammy and the demon blood. About being forced to his knees while Anna sliced Jo’s neck open.

But it’s mostly about Her. 

In pain in his arms. Calling him and saying She’ll be in Michigan, but then Dean got to Michigan and all that was left was the Firebird. Then hunters get the jump on his and Sam, because this fear doesn’t make him useful, or delay until he can’t ignore it anymore. It’s demanding, and painful, and every single time they’d walked into a memory of Her in Heaven, Dean had wanted to grab Her and never let go. Even when he damn well knew it wasn’t Her—the memories didn’t smell like fruit, and he should’ve gotten that it was Her in the blanket fort in the first second, because She’d smelled like fruit there—Dean had felt all the air tighten in his lungs.

Then he’d lost Her.

He’d grabbed the real Her—not dead, just walking through heaven like it was nothing, because she was a freaking angel—and then watched Her vanish with Zachariah. 

The rest of the night had been a blur. A lot of Sam and Cas trying to calm him down, things breaking, and graphic threats that he wouldn’t actually inflict on them, but likely on himself. He’d roared at the sky, begging it to split open and Dean catch Her. He’d somehow lost Her again, and there was no damn point in being Her shadow or guard or friend or anything if Dean just kept fucking dropping Her, when She needed to be held like it was the world and all the stars in his hands- 

“Dean.” Bobby had frowned at him from the doorway of their room. 

Her room. Her room, that She trusted Dean to share. That had all his clothing, because they’d all stopped pretending Dean would ever be able to sleep without Her. The sheets still smelled like Her. Dean was holding one of Her notebooks, all the words in Enochian, like he could somehow read it and find a way to bring her back. 

“Don’t say anything,” Dean had muttered, closing the book. “I don’t want to hear it, Bobby, I freakin’ know-“

“She called, ya idjit.”

His head had shot up. “She-“

“Sent a text first.” Bobby had grunted. “Called ‘er, we figure she got dropped somewhere in Northern California. She’s tryin’ to find somewhere to lay low ‘till you get her, but she’s stuck luggin’ that Adam kid with her. I were you, I’d get her fast.”

The fear had been clouding his brain. She’d gotten out, with Adam, but that didn’t mean she was safe. They didn’t know what the hell the angels had done to Her, if they’d hurt Her, if She’d needed Dean and he hadn’t been there. And California was far, and- 

“She fucking hates California.” Dean had said, the only thought able to get itself out of his mouth, and Bobby had only shrugged.

“Then you’d better drive fast.” He’d paused. “Don’t get arrested. I ain’t got the time to bail you out.”

Dean had nodded, and sprinted out of the room. No need to wake Sam up for this, not when they were still a pissed at each other. All of Sam’s Heaven’s had been fucking bullshit—times he’d left Dean, shit he’d pulled off that had spurred memories of Dad spitting in Dean’s face and bruises on his jaw—and Dean had thrown a few chairs after Sam told him he couldn’t just go back to Heaven and get Her. 

They fell the fuck apart, without Her. And Dean needed Her back now. The fear had turned almost numb and electric, and slowly ebbed out the closer he got to the address Bobby had given him.

But it gave way to new fear.

Cold fear. He could sort of feel it in his bones, and he’d been able to feel it since Mom died. He’d felt it every time Dad had gone out for a hunt, and Dean hadn’t been sure he’d return—and whenever he’d fucked up while Dad was on a hunt, and he hadn’t wanted Dad to return—and he’d felt it when he’d been in the demon deal, and She hadn’t known. Felt it every damn month She’d been gone, he’d called Her, and it had twisted in his stomach that this might be the time She didn’t pick up. 

Dread. It was dread. 

And as he pulled up the final dirt street—he’d been driving for over a day without sleep, but he didn’t need sleep, he needed Her—that was the fear that sunk into his body.

The fear that She’d be in pain when he saw Her, and this time, he wouldn’t be able to fix it. 

Dean shut off Baby’s engine, but this would be quick. He just needed to grab Her—and Adam—and get home. And this was the address, but it was a dusty, abandoned looking cabin on the edge of some farmland, so- 

Something tackled him from behind, arms wrapping around his chest and a face pressing into his back. 

Anyone else, and he would’ve shot without thinking. But somehow—maybe the smell, maybe the feel, maybe just a deep instinct that told him don’t shoot the best person you’ve ever loved, dumbass—he knew it was Her. So his arm dropped to keep Her’s around him, and he let out a heavy breath as they swayed on the sidewalk. 

Dean muttered Her name, craning his head back to meet Her gaze, and found her face still buried into his back. Her cheeks were smushed, and Her hair was a mess—but still somehow shiny, even in the dust of California—and when Dean repeated Her name, she just held him tighter. 

“You found me.” She mumbled against his shirt, something soft and choked in Her voice, and Dean twisted fully in Her arms. He needed to hold Her back. To make sure she was real. 

“Course I found you,” he kissed the top of Her head—that was allowed right now, she was crying—and she was going to suffocate him. He didn’t mind. “You-“

“I’m okay.” 

Dean sighed, and took Her face between his hands, tipping it back to meet his gaze. 

Her eyes were almost blinding, and glossy. Tinted red with tears, just as her cheeks were flushed and Her lips were swollen, likely from chewing. And there was that little, worried furrow in Her brow. 

She wasn’t okay. 

Dean ran his thumb down the bridge of Her nose, and tried to make his voice as gentle as possible. He didn’t know how to fix whatever was getting to Her. He had to fucking try.

“What happened?”

She shook Her head, hair sliding over her face that Dean got to brush away with his softest touch. 

“I-“ She took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch. And he really was a piece of shit, because that was going to replay over and over in his head for the rest of his damn life. “I’m-“

Someone called Her name, and Dean tugged Her forward, wrapping an arm back around Her and raising his gun. He got Her, he had Her, she wasn’t anybody’s but Dean was Her’s, and they’d have to kill him to touch Her- 

“What’s-“ Adam’s head poked out from behind the cabin, and his eyes widened, flicking between Dean, and Her in Dean’s arms. “Oh. Dean, you, uh- I thought Sam was coming?”

“Sam was sleeping.” Dean grunted. “And I’ve got the freakin’ car- Shit-“

Dean groaned as She shoved him, right in the gut, and leaned back with a glower. 

He tried to give Her a winning smile, but it was more of a wince. “Ow, Princess-“

“Don’t Princess me, Winchester.” She snapped, and Dean’s grin felt a little more real. He was either going insane, or the hours without sleep were finally getting to him. She was so pretty, and the sun was rising, and all the light seemed to only shine for Her. Making Her almost freaking glow. “Put the gun down.”

He hadn’t realized he was still holding it. But he listened, raising his brows as he tucked it away. 

Her scowl didn’t waver. “Where is Sam.”

“I told you, sleeping-“

“So you drive here alone?!”

“Uh,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and glanced to Adam, but the kid was just staring at Her. “Maybe. But you needed help-“

“Not drive all night help, Dean!” She grabbed his face between Her hands, and Dean didn’t even bother to fight it. He was pretty sure she could try to stab him for real this time, and he wouldn’t do a damn thing about it. “When was the last time you slept?”

He wasn’t sure. He knew he hadn’t slept on the drive to Michigan, then he hadn’t slept in Heaven, but he’d been dead. That didn’t count. And She’d been missing for about a day and a half, plus the drive-

He was well over thirty-six hours.  

Telling Her that didn’t seem like the best idea. 

“I dunno,” he mumbled, and Her hands were so soft. “I’m fine, Princess-“

“Dean Winchester.” She hissed, and he might have lost all the blood in his face, rushing to other places in his body. She needed to keep looking at him like that. Forever. Like his health was something that really mattered to Her. 

He drawled Her name back, but he sounded a little drunk. This wasn’t working in his favor. 

“When did you last sleep,” She hissed—now didn’t feel like a good time to kiss Her—and he sighed. 

“Connecticut.”

Her eyes flashed, and before he was sure what was happening, they were moving. She’d grabbed Dean’s hand and was tugging him around the back of the cabin, and he was Her shadow. He didn’t know how to do anything but follow Her, wherever the hell she wanted to take him. 

Adam mumbled Her name as they passed him. “What-“

“We’re sleeping.” She snapped, and Adam frowned. 

“But-“

“Dean can’t sleep in the car.”

That was true. He couldn’t. And he didn’t know how the hell she knew that, but it didn’t matter. She was holding his hand. Half shoving him into some sort of makeshift bed before crawling up to his side, like She couldn’t bear to be away from him.

“Uh-“ Adam cleared his throat from somewhere near the door. “I thought we were going somewhere safe-“

“We’re safe here.” She shrugged, and Her hand was in Dean’s hair. He wasn’t sure She knew she was doing it. He never wanted Her to stop.

“Oh- okay.” Dean let his eyes flutter open, and Adam was frowning between them.

Dean let out a slow breath, and Adam’s attention settled on him. “We’ll drive in the morning, dude. I’ll call Sammy to get a room ready for you.”

Adam blinked. “For- me?”

“Bobby’s got a lot of rooms.” She hummed. “You can take Dean’s old one. We’ll figure the rest when we get home.”

Adam nodded nervously, and Dean felt a little guilty. He should be doing more, but his thoughts were only circling around old room. His old room. Because now they shared one, and didn’t bother to pretend.

But that wasn’t important. And even if Adam wasn’t Sammy, they were still family. Dean was the big brother. He should be helping Adam. Telling him that he was going to sleep because telling Her no took all the willpower in the world—and with Her hand in his hair and his head on Her thigh, Dean didn’t have any willpower—but then they’d go to Bobby’s, and everything would be fine. 

But he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what had happened to them, in those two days. And Adam was looking at him strangely, the same way Dad used to look at him. The way that made Dean feel like he was doing something wrong, when he was doing nothing at all. And Adam wasn’t Dad—he wasn’t going to hurt Her—but Dean didn’t like the way the kid’s eyes kept flicking between Her and Dean. 

Mostly Her. Adam kept looking at Her with an expression Dean knew from the mirror. Like She was the most beautiful thing in the universe—She was—and just a brush of Her skin against his would be a high better than goddamn heroine. 

Dean could understand a crush. Adam was just a kid, and She was magnetic. But She was sitting with Dean. And he was Her shadow. Adam could want Her, Dean wasn’t going to be weird about that. Dad might crawl out of the grave to strangle him if he ever chose a girl over family—even though She was family, and he’d only just met the real Adam—and Dean didn’t have any right to get possessive. She wasn’t Dean’s to possess. Only to protect, and hold, and maybe touch wherever he was allowed.

Another selfish thought. He should be focusing on Her and Adam’s safety and stability. On how there was a hollowness to Her features that told him something was wrong. But She was warm, Dean was exhausted, and this cabin was safe. Dean could recognize Her handwriting if he was blindfolded, even when said writing was in Enochian. Those were Her wards, the ones She’d put up at Bobby’s, and they’d had to toss three kinds of salt over Cas’ shoulder, dump him in holy water of the spring—rose water that Bobby had blessed with an eye roll—and let Her burn a lock of his vessel’s hair for him to be allowed into the yard. They’d be fine. 

Dean could turn his face to rest on Her abdomen and hear Her breath hitch, grinning to himself at the sound. He’d like to stay here for a while. Maybe damn the world and rest here into the apocalypse and after. Her fingers combing through his hair and making him feel like a dog, the smell of fruit all around him, his body relaxing because it was Her. 

And She was humming softly.

That wasn’t the voice of a siren, or an angel. It was whatever starlight sounded like, humming Ramble On just so Dean could sleep. 

He passed out faster than maybe ever in his life. He didn’t dream. And when his eyes blinked open to hazy, golden sunlight, She was watching him. 

She was so beautiful. There seemed to be a halo around Her head, and Her skin was still glowing, and Her eyes were so bright Dean was pretty sure he’d be able to see them guiding him home in the darkest storms.

He loved Her. 

She looked so tired. 

Dean reached a hand up before he could think better of it, and traced his fingers over Her cheeks. She blinked at him, leaning into his touch as Her eyes went glossy again, and something was wrong. He’d been an asshole, he’d known something was wrong, and he’d just fallen asleep like she hadn’t just been an angel prisoner-

“Feel better?” She whispered, and Dean voice was barely a rasp.

“Now I do, yeah.” He sat up slowly, keeping hold on Her careful. Tight enough that he could shift Her into his lap. Lose enough that, if She wanted, She could leave.

But She didn’t. 

She just wrapped Her legs around his torso, and dropped Her head to his chest. His arms flew up, caging Her back to keep Her steady, hands tangling in Her hair because he could.

Dean muttered Her name, and She held him tighter. “What the hell happened, after we got zapped.”

“I- I can’t-“ She curled further into him, and Dean knew that strain in Her voice. She was trying not to cry. “De, I don’t know how to- I don’t know what to do- I- I’m not-“

“It’s okay.” He kept his voice soft, swallowing down another baby. It wasn’t the time. “I’ve got you, Princess, you’re safe-“

A sob shook Her body, and Dean just held Her. If that was all he had to do right now, to be worthy of being Her shadow, he’d do it every damn time. Until Her breathing was even, and he could carefully tip Her head back and give her a sad smile. 

“I’m here.” He murmured, and She blinked at him through Her tears. 

He wiped them away with his thumb, then let it drift to the bridge of Her nose once more. Her eyes fluttered shut and She let out the best, airiest sigh he’d ever heard in his damn life. Dean could die here. With Her relaxed in his arms, their bodies tangled together, and nothing real in the world but the feeling of Her against him.

But Adam. The end of the world and Adam. 

Dean kissed Her brow, fought the urge to just kiss Her when She made another soft sound and curled her fingers on his chest, and forced himself to get up. He kept Her in his arms—She didn’t fight it, another bad sign—and walked Her outside to the Impala. After She was safely in the passenger’s seat, he went back for Adam. The kid had been sleeping in the room over, and it wasn’t hard to get him moving. 

He just had to say She was waiting in the car.

They were on the road quick. And it was a day long drive, but that was for assholes who obeyed things like speed limits.

Dean didn’t have time for that. She was being too quiet, Adam kept opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to ask questions but wasn’t sure how, and Dean could feel that cold fear again. Something had happened. Something had to have happened. Ellen was gone, all She had was her knives and a jar with something brown and sludge-like in it, and She kept looking at the skyline with that small wrinkle in her brow. 

It was going to drive him insane. He could beat his own muscle and soft tissue going black and blue over it, how he’d just fallen asleep at Her request, like he wasn’t supposed to be the one taking care of Her-

“Dean.” She mumbled, after they’d stopped for gas somewhere in Wyoming, long Adam knocked out in the backseat. “I called Sam. I think Adam’s a little sick, so they’ll be ready to look at him.”

Dean glanced at Adam in the rearview. “He looks fine-“

“He’s got a bite mark.” She was picking the skin on Her nails again, and gave Dean a sad look when his hand shot out of cover her’s. “I-“

“Don’t do that.” He muttered. “How the hell’d he get a bite mark, a freakin’ snake?”

She shook Her head, her hair falling over Her face and Her voice almost a whisper. “Me. I- I’ve never resurrected someone before. I think I did it wrong or something, because it looks like a ghoul bite, and it’s right here.” She reached up and touch the soft skin under Dean’s collarbone. A little electric shock ran through his body at the contact. He was worse than a damn teenager. 

He took a steadying breath—he was a grown man, he’d just slept in her lap, he could handle her touching him and talking to him all gorgeous and awesome—and shot her a small frown. “You’re the one who brought him back?”

She only nodded, and Dean felt the dread move deeper than his bones. Into something colorful and vital and shimmering, that knew Dean was just another thing in Her orbit, but he still had to keep Her safe.

Dean said Her name, and Her fingers twined with his. As if She was afraid he was going to let go. “Tell me what happened, sweetheart. Please.”

Her grip was death like. And it didn’t loosen, as She turned to press Her face into his arm. Her breaths muffled in Dean’s body, but She was also clinging to him like he was a buoy in a hurricane, so he just squeezed Her hand once.

There was a pause, then three squeezes in return. She didn’t seem fine. But before Dean could push it, she was talking. 

“I- I need to tell you most of it later.” She mumbled. “With everyone else. But, I – I don’t know what to do.”

He sighed. “I know, but-“

“I met Michael.” Her words were quick, and the dread was going to eat him alive. “He- He was yellow. And big. And he- he said that I-“ 

She made another weak noise, and Dean muttered Her name. “Breathe, Princess, I’ve got you-“

“Dean.” She whispered, Her chin propping on his shoulder, and when he shot Her a glance, Her eyes were big and bright on his. “Michael told me something.”

Dean frowned. “Like what? His evil plan?”

“No. Not his.”

“Wha-“

“He said I was the bride of God.” She whispered. “He- He said that’s what I was made for. That it’s why I’m like this.”

Dean couldn’t really hear anything. Couldn’t really see anything, either. It wasn’t a safe way to drive, but he didn’t care about driving right now. 

He cared about Her, half clinging to his side, Her voice far too fucking small and defeated. He cared about why She’d say like this—She was perfect, if anything, everyone else should want to be more like Her—and that Michael would call Her that. 

Bride of God.

“What the fuck does that mean.” He muttered, and his knuckles were white on the wheel. 

“Probably what it sounds like.” She mumbled, blinking up at Dean with a nervous expression. “Dean?”

He grunted—he felt like he was drowning without any water to blame—and glanced back to find Her watching him with an open, nervous expression.

“Are you mad at me?”

Dean stared at Her for a moment. That was insane. None of this was Her fault, it was God and the Angels and Hell and all these stupid fucking games with people’s lives that didn’t make sense, he understood it but he couldn’t let it make sense-

She opened Her mouth, and Dean shook his head. Her shadow. The most important thing was being Her shadow, and keeping Her safe.

“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing the top of Her head and forcing himself to not crash the car when She made another little sound. “We just- Guess we got work to do. We’ll call Cas. See what he knows.”

“Okay.” She dropped Her face back down to Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Course.” I love you. I just want to love you Princess, cryptic douchebag archangels or not. “You’re gonna be alright, Princess. Pinky promise.

He turned his hand in Her’s, hooked their pinkies, let out a slow breath as She hummed into his side.

Bride of God.

She was the Bride of God.

Son of a Bitch, he wished that didn’t make sense. That he could just call Michael a lying asshole and be done with it.

But She was divine. Dean had always known She was divine. Ethereal and blinding, made of something he should never be allowed to touch. Something nobody should be allowed to touch, something that was too good to be stuck in the mud with the rest of them. Not just hunters and people born with no way out but a bloody one. Everyone. Even the fanciest asshole at bars—hitting on Her while Dean had glowered at his beer and shoved down the urge to march over and slam his lips against Her’s—had been beneath Her. Dean had just gotten real damn lucky, being the animal that She grew fond of. 

Or unlucky. 

Because if She was the Bride of God—if that was a real thing, and She was it, and She might as well be because Dean had always worshipped Her all the same—that meant She could never be Dean’s. That the most he would ever get was this. 

Her head on his shoulder as they drove, fast asleep and peaceful. Her hand was still in Dean’s free one—he could drive with one hand, he wasn’t a fucking idiot, and when he kissed Her knuckles she made another soft, sweet sound he wanted to devour—as he listened to the music, and got them home. 

Sam was pacing outside, when they pulled into the yard around midnight. She and Adam had both been knocked out for a few hours, and while She didn’t jolt awake as the engine turned off, Adam did.

“Wha-“ The kid blinked around, rubbing his eyes as Dean adjusted Her in his lap. “Where are we?”

“Bobby’s.” Dean muttered, glancing in the side mirror. Sammy was coming over, he could help Adam while Dean took care of Her. “It’s safe. He’s family, and the place is warded to freakin’ hell.”

Adam paled. “Like- Literally?”

“No.” She made a small noise as Dean wrapped Her arms around his neck, but didn’t try to pull away. He was the most selfish asshole in the world. “Sam’ll help you with that bite, then we’ll all meet up in the morning.”

“How’d you know about-“ Adam paused, then said Her name. “She told you?”

“Yep.” He glanced up as Sam knocked on the window, and nodded his head to the backseat. Sam understood—thank Fucking Christ—and opened the back door.

“Hi, Adam, I’ve got the medkit, and- Dean?”

Dean grunted, and glanced back to see Sam frowning at Her.

“Is she-“

“She fine.” Bride of God. “Need to get her to bed, can you-“

“Yeah, I’ve got it. You want me to-“

“Call Cas. Tell him we’re gonna talk in the morning. Is Bobby-“

“In his office. I’ll tell him you’re home.”

Adam cleared his throat, and they both looked to him with a frown. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “That’s just- It’s kinda freaky.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean adjusted Her fully, and he’d be able to carry Her like this. He’d always carry Her. “Lot more shit where that came from.”

He was being an asshole. Dean knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He needed to take care of Her. 

Their room was untouched, from when Dean had left it. Her notebook was still on the floor. Everything was in its place. 

Including Her. Fit perfectly in Dean’s arms.

Bride of God.

Maybe it wasn’t Her place. Maybe She should be sleeping on a freaking cloud, or on vacation in Jupiter, making angel babies. Dean really didn’t want to think about Her making angel babies. It didn’t matter if it was Her destiny, he didn’t want Her to be anywhere that he couldn’t follow. Because even if She was the Bride of God, God wouldn’t hold Her like Dean could. It was an insane, absurd thought—it was fucking God—but it was the only thing that eased the frozen dread in his body. If God was out there, he hadn’t done shit for Her. Dean would do anything. He loved Her, and he loved Her like it was written into his fucking DNA, and when he eased them both down onto the bed, She wrapped herself around Dean’s body. 

Michael might have been lying.

Dean wasn’t that lucky. 

That could be what being Her shadow was. Her lover in the corners, and Her guard dog, and nothing more than just the luckiest son of a bitch alive, there for Her in all the ways God couldn’t be.

God.

Fucking God.

What chance did Dean stand against God-

She made a soft, sleepy sound, and Dean glanced down. She was drooling, right onto his chest. Her nose was nuzzled into his throat, and son of a bitch, of course She was the Bride of God. She was perfect.

But She was still sleeping on Dean. When he so much as shifted, Dean was the one who got a distressed sound and tight grip around his neck. 

Dean was Her’s. He loved Her, and he’d love Her all the way down. 

He shouldn’t have been able to sleep, with all the lingering dread. But She smelled like fruit, and She was warm around him, and- 

This place was creepy.

The ceilings were too high, everything was too clean, and the polished floor had some sort of weird engraving on it. It looked like Enochian, when Dean squinted and tilted his head. But the people around him couldn’t be angels. Angels didn’t wear fancy clothing like that, and while they did have cold, unforgiving features, they didn’t lurk in dark corners. The only angel Dean had ever seen lurk in a corner was Cas, and Cas wasn’t a normal angel. 

Angels didn’t whisper, and all these assholes were whispering. Slowly milling about until they’d formed some big sort of circle, and shooting glances at the center of the room.

Dean felt like he was supposed to go somewhere. Maybe anywhere but here. He was like a freaking match in a needle stack, surrounded by sharp, polished people, while he wore a leather jacket, jeans, and mud-caked boots. 

At least he wasn’t tracking the mud, as he tried to push through the odd crowd. Given how clean these people were, that would probably be a whole thing. 

He should just leave. He was definitely intruding on something that he wasn’t supposed to see, and didn’t really want to anyway. But something was calling him. Pulling him forward like a magnet, tugging on something just to the right of his heart and telling him to fucking go-

He stumbled forward as the crowd suddenly ended, and there She was. 

A smaller version of Her—a little doll-like with her black dress, perfectly styled hair, and blank expression that made Dean’s gut twist—but Her. Dean would know Her anywhere.

She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the old man standing over Her—he had the same nose She did, and different coloring, but an almost identical posture—and the blade in his hand. 

It looked like an echo of Her blade. A crude replica. And She stared at it as the man took Her hand, and flipped it palm up. 

Dean wanted to call Her name, but his voice was stuck in his throat.

The old man beat him to it. 

“First born daughter of the coven’s last born daughter, you have bled for the first time. Your second blood will be spilt in his name, the great one, Yahweh, the creator, who has promised us greatness in his service. Do you offer yourself to him, in entirely, should you be the Bride?”

He had to do something. Dean was just goddamn standing here, and She looked so young, and her voice was so soft and small and this felt like something someone should get shot about-

“I do.” She bowed Her head, and the whole room started whispering. There were some barely muffled laughs, too. As if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. They were lucky to even be in Her presence, but Dean still needed to do something, why couldn’t he fucking move and do something-

Her name escaped his throat, his voice hoarse, and Her head whipped to his. For a second, She was the version of Her Dean knew, and loved, and would drown in the mud or the ocean or pits of hell for. Then the old man sliced the blade deep into Her hand, and she flickered back into the little girl. 

It was only for a second. As Her hand was twisted so the blood fell to the floor, and the room filled with some creepy chant that nobody seemed to be trying all that hard on. Then She was back to herself, yanking Her hand away from the old man and sprinting over to Dean. She slammed into him with an almost frightening force, but Dean didn’t flinch. His arms wrapped around Her and he lifted her off the ground, their faces inches away, Her eyes blinding on his and Her lips parted with a small flush-

The room shook, and a few people screamed. Dean’s grip tensed around Her, his hand shooting to his jeans for his pistol, but she caught it first.

“It’s fine.” She mumbled, squeezing his hand three times and pressing Her face to the crook of his neck. “I- I’m glad you’re here, De. I hate this one.”

“Course I’m here, Princess.” He muttered, even though he didn’t like this one either, and he didn’t even know what ‘this’ was. “Always here.”

She let out a soft laugh, and just held him a little tighter. But Dean’s eyes were trapped on the sight before him. 

Her blood, no longer just a single stain of red in the Enochian carvings.

It was a river, running through the sigil, fucking glowing silver. Like someone had sliced a little bit of starlight, and dumped it over the fucking floor. It looked molten and dangerous and alluring, and the whole fucking chamber smelled like fruit to the point that Dean was pretty sure it wasn’t just her hair near his nose. 

Dean said Her name carefully, and She shook Her head.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She mumbled into his skin. “I- I don’t want it to be real.”

And he didn’t have to ask what. He knew. That cut had been exactly where Her scar was, and She’d always told him that her family was full of cultic assholes. That they’d thought She was destined to marry-

Son of a bitch.

She’d been right. Dean didn’t really want to talk about it either. He just wanted to hold Her a little tighter and bury his face in Her hair, as chaos broke out around him. People were shouting and screaming like this hadn’t been the whole purpose of the stupid thing, the Silver was only growing brighter and brighter, and Dean just kept holding Her. 

He’d hold her like this when the real world ended too. 

He’d hold Her until she was ripped from his arms, and he was left in the mud. 

His eyes blinked open to harsh light through the windows, and they’d shifted in their sleep. Dean was still holding Her, but she wasn’t straddling him anymore. Her face wasn’t his neck either, but pressed right against Dean’s as he lay on his stomach. Pinning Her to the mattress. Their legs tangled together and Her knee pressed dangerously close to-

Fuck.

Dean tried to shift away, but he was too slow. She mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like his name, held him tighter, and Dean groaned. Right in Her ear. 

Another mistake. 

She made the softest, most musical and intoxicating sound Dean had ever heard, and he definitely had to move now, but it was too late. Her eyes fluttered open and landed on his, and-

“Dean?” She mumbled, yawning right into his face, and Dean never wanted to move again. 

“Hey, Princess.” He sounded like a fucking idiot. “You, uh-“ His boner. He was so hard it hurt, and She was right there and so pretty with glazed eyes and sleep swollen lips. And he was all kinds of fucked up for having a nightmare then getting a hard-on for his best friend, but that’s what was happening. “Breakfast?”

She hummed and nodded, but made no effort to move. 

That was fine. Dean could move for both of them. He pushed up off of Her slowly, angling his hips carefully to keep them out of Her attention, and let just a little bit of his will falter. He ducked down at the last second, pressed a kiss to Her brow, and grinned to himself as She made a soft, sweet sound. Son of a bitch, he loved Her.

But he was still a piece of shit. He still brushed hair from Her face and ran his thumb down her nose, before shuffling to the bathroom, turning on the sink, and fisting his cock in his hand. Letting his thoughts wander to Her beautiful, heavenly features and soft skin and body tangled with his. The feeling on Her breath on his neck and the flutter of Her eyes in the low light of parking lots. The sound of Her voice saying his name in a tiny gasp and the phantom taste of Her from months ago, they haven’t kissed in over half a freaking year but Dean was still being haunted by Her touch and taste, and he could see Her sprawled out below him in bed, or maybe straddling his waist again and kissing his jaw-

He clenched his jaw as he came, choking on the groan of Her name and squeezing his eyes tight enough for it to hurt. He didn’t deserve Her. He still stopped at the edge of their bed after he cleaned himself up—their bed, he was standing at their bed—and stared at Her for a long moment like some stalker.

Breakfast.

He needed to make sure She ate, because that cabin hadn’t looked like a restaurant, and something told him she’d probably told Adam she was eating whatever rations they’d had, while giving them all to him. And the kid didn’t know how to tell when She was lying. So it was Dean’s job to make sure She ate. 

He opened the door, and almost had a damn heart attack.

“Jesus fucking-“ He took a steady breath, running a hand over his face. “Son of a bitch, Cas, what are you doing-“

Cas frowned at him, as if the answer should be obvious. “Watching over you, Dean. Well,” Cas nodded past his shoulder, when Dean could hear Her shifting in the sheets. “Both of you.”

“Dean?” Her voice was still filled with sleep, Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas, and Cas paled slightly. “What’s-“

“Nothing, Princess.” He grunted. “Go back to sleep-“

“Cas?” Goddamnit. “What are you-“

“I told Dean already,” Cas said, his words slow. “I was watching over you both.”

Dean sensed Her behind him before he felt Her. And he could be normal about this. About Her standing right next to him, Her chin propped on his bicep, his arm braced on the door. He could be normal.

“But you were standing outside?” Dean glanced down to see the prettiest frown on Her face, and Cas shrugged. 

“This seemed to be a private moment, I didn’t wish to interrupt it.” He glanced back to Dean. “You should change. We have been waiting for you to awaken.”

Dean sighed. He couldn’t punch Cas, even if he’d woken Her up. “Don’t say awaken, dude, you sound a million.”

“He is a million, Deano.”

Dean gave Her an exasperated look, and Cas frowned.

“I am actually over a billion-“

“Really?!” Her eyes went wide, and Dean sighed. 

“Princess,” he muttered, letting his hand glide down to Her lower back. Her attention turned to him, Her eyes fluttering slightly, and two boners in one morning was too many. “They’re waitin’ for us to awaken. Go change.”

She glanced back to Cas. “But I wanna ask him about dinosaurs-“

Dean gave Her a flat look, and She sighed.

“Fine. But,” She shot him a glare. “Just because Cas said we need to change. You’re not my boss, Winchester.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I got that, sweetheart-“

“Shut up.”

“Bossy.” He called after Her, watching Her stomp into the bathroom, and turned back to Cas with a sigh. “C’mon. Gotta make her majesty eggs.”

Cas nodded, following Dean down the stairs, and everyone was waiting for them. Seated around the table, frowning at Dean and Cas as they entered the kitchen. 

Bobby cleared his throat. “Dean, where-“

“Getting dressed.” He muttered, walking over to the stove. “She’ll be down soon. You guys already gone over all the shit?”

“Almost,” Sam sighed. “We know that the Angels were going to use Adam as bait for us, that we all got brought back when Zachariah showed up, and Adam says that they were in some sort of magic room for a while.”

“I don’t know how long.” Adam jumped in. “It felt like it was a while? They took me, the brown-haired lady-“

“Ellen,” Sam muttered with a grimace, and Adam nodded. 

“Yeah, her. And,” Adam said Her name, shooting Dean a strange look. “She said she had a plan to break us out. But I blacked out, and when I woke up she was fighting the bald guy-“

“Zachariah.”

“And she made him vanish, then sort of,” Adam placed his hand on his brow. “And I woke up on the side of the road with her next to me.”

Dean frowned. “Ellen-“

“Didn’t make it.”

Their attention all shot to the door, and She looked so small. Her arms wrapped around Her stomach and her words nervous, as if she was worried someone was going to try and kick her. None of them would. Ever. Even Adam seemed to understand that after a day, scrambling to his feet and pulling out the chair next to his. She shuffled over with a small smile of thanks—and a bigger smile to Dean, but he wasn’t going to let that go to his head—and dropped down with a long sigh. 

“I- Um- I got Adam.” She whispered, Her eyes fixed on her hands. “But Zachariah came back. And he grabbed Ellen. I don’t think angels can kill souls, but he- he was going to do something. I couldn’t stop it, and she said it was okay, but- I-“ She swallowed, and Dean abandoned the eggs. There were more eggs in the universe anyway. There was only one Her. 

He muttered Her name, standing right behind her chair, and Her head tipped back to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to-“

“Yeah, I do.”  

She fucking didn’t. But he wasn’t going to win this conversation. So Dean just offered his hand. 

She took it. In front of everyone. Squeezed it three times—She was fine—and took a shaking breath. 

“I don’t know what happened to her. But I got Zachariah-“ She sat up suddenly, and Dean grunted as Her grip tightened. “Fuck- My jar, where the fuck is my jar-“

“I’ve got it.” Sam cut in quickly, pulling it out of his bag on the floor. “What-“

Cas cut Sam off with Her name, his eyes comically wide. “Is that…”

“Yeah.” She sighed, pulling the jar forward. “Say hi, Zachariah.”

There was a long silence, filled with only the sound of the frying pan sizzling and brown sludge slushing around.

Bobby cleared his throat. “Kiddo, you’re tellin’ me that you got an angel in a fuckin’ jar?”

“Yeah.” 

“But-“ Sam shook his head. “I mean, how-“

“Don’t know.” She sighed, setting Zachariah down on the table. “I just… did. Then I ripped open a hole in the room, and walked out.”

“The room?” Cas frowned. “The green room?”

“I don’t think so. This one was in heaven and- Reinforced. With iron. It seemed like it was part of old Heaven.”

Sam raised his hand. “What’s old Heaven-“

“Heaven before God left.” Cas said, still watching Her. “Most of it is off limits to everyone, but archangels have access to certain areas. Did you-“

“Yeah. Micheal.”

Silence again, this time broken by Sam.

“You met Michael? Did he, like, want something?”

“Yeah. Um, a lot. He wanted a lot, and said a bunch of stuff and-“ She took a shaking, long breath, and broke into a frantic ramble. “He wanted my alliance. For me to tell Dean to say yes, just like Lucifer wanted me to convince Sam to say yes, and I know I should have told you guys that when it happened but a lot was going on and I- I don’t know. But Michael said he wanted me at his side when God returned, because I- He-“ 

Dean muttered Her name, and she shook Her head. 

“I’m the Bride of God.” She whispered. “He said it was my destiny. That I should want to speed this along, because the sooner Lucifer is dead the sooner God will return.” She wrinkled Her nose. “For- For me.”

Dean was getting really sick of the silences. They let him feel his heartbeat in his fucking throat. And he didn’t even give a shit that She’d lied about Lucifer, because he’d known She’d lied. He just wanted that last part to be a lie, for him to have a single fucking chance of keeping her.

“The Bride of God.” Cas’ expression was strange, but Dean understood it. And the last bit of his hope sank into his gut like a stone. “That is supposed to be a myth.”

Sam frowned. “Angels have myths?”

“More like bedtime stories.” Cas sighed. “But I have to admit, it does make sense. You fall into every part of the legend, Heaven bent to your will, and you were able to enter the throne room. There is… no other explication. The only part I don’t understand is how you are also the Magdalene-“

“One angel- Joshua, he said it was a cruel joke.” She said quietly. “But Michael said it was on purpose.”

Bobby grunted. “Don’t think it matters. You wanna marry God, kiddo?”

Her nails were digging into Dean’s skin. “No.”

“Then you ain’t gonna. Any other archangels tellin’ you important shit?”

She nodded, and they all just fucking kept talking. About Gabriel, and how he’d explained a way for them to put Lucifer back in the cage, with the Horseman’s rings. And it was important, and Dean felt a little damn sick when She said they’d need to find a way to get Lucifer into the cage—there weren’t a lot of options, and Sammy’s expression meant he was thinking something smart and stupid—but they needed to go back. To stop talking about the last two rings, and start talking about how She was the Bride of fucking God. Destinies weren’t easy to avoid when it was just two archangels trying to ride Sam and Dean’s ass, there was no way God was just going to take Her no thanks and walk away. 

And if She didn’t want to marry the asshole, Dean try his goddamn best to stop it. But it was fucking God. If the guy was still alive, he was going to be impossible to just sock in the jaw and kick to the curb. They needed a plan, to keep Her here. Talking to Bobby about the Horsemen—She said she’d tracked Pestilence to upstate New York as She twisted the skin of Her finger, and Dean knew She was lying, but he was already sort of having trouble doing anything except holding Her hand like she was going to vanish a flash of light—and explaining to Sam how She’d made a spell to track Eileen, but just had to alter it for Death. 

She needed to stay next to Dean. 

She needed to stay Her own. 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled that night, the day having passed in a slow inch of planning and trying to make sense of the whole, horrible situation. 

Dean spat out his mouthwash, and frowned at Her, sitting cross-legged on their mattress. “‘Bout what?”

“Not telling you about Lucifer.” She frowned at Her hands, rubbing Her wrists. “And making things more complicated.”

Dean let out a long, slow breath. He wasn’t thrilled about the Lucifer shit, but there were other things to worry about. The end of the world. Getting all the rings. How there was an archangel in a box downstairs, because none of them had really wanted Zachariah hearing their conversations.

Her. 

She was curling into Herself, and Dean was worried about Her.

He crossed the room to stand over Her, taking Her face between his hands and saying Her name as soft as he could. The way he’d say a prayer, if that was something he did. The way he’d always said it. The way that told him, yet again, that She was never his.

But She was leaning into Dean’s touch. 

And he didn’t want to let Her go. 

“Hey.” He murmured, and She looked at him under her lashes like some sort of perfectly designed sin. “I’m not pissed at you.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

He didn’t know. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t remember how to be, when Michael had offered Her paradise and she’d still chosen to be here.

“I lied.” She whispered, Her eyes wide and glossy on his. “And I- I’m not human, I’m just like them-“ She grabbed Dean’s wrists, Her words growing frantic. “Dean, I’m just like them-“

“Breathe.” He made his voice firm, commanding, and it wasn’t good for his health how She obeyed in half a second. “You’re not just like them, sweetheart-“

“Michael said I was designed to mirror god-“

“And I’m designed to be Michael’s favorite outfit.” Dean gave Her a pointed look. “You want me to be a meatsuit, Princess?”

“No.” 

“Then that’s it.”

That was it. 

Looking at Her, still clinging to his wrists and staring up at him like he was maybe the only planet in an infinite universe, Dean got what Bobby had meant. 

It was just Her. She didn’t want to be the freaking Bride or whatever, She wouldn’t be. If Dean didn’t get to have Her just because he wanted Her, God didn’t either. Dean had put in close to a decade of fights and conversations and trust and teamwork into just getting Her to kiss him once. She was here because She wanted to, so Dean would fight until his guts were lining the walls of heaven to keep Her here. 

He’d been right. He’d never been worthy of all Her light and life and smile, of the contact high he got just from being where she might smile at him.

But God wasn’t worthy of that either. And until She looked up at the sky and decided She’d rather be in the stars, Dean would care for Her in the warmth of the mud. 

“Can we-” She took a long, slow breath, and Dean’s thumb paused on Her nose. He hadn’t even realized he was doing that. “Go for a drive?”

Goddamnit. He was going to get another boner. “In… the car?”

She gave him a flat look. “No, De, on a horse.”

“You got a secret horse, Princess?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you about it-“

“Thought you trusted me,” Dean gave Her a wide grin, even as he faked a wounded tone. “Safer together, sweetheart-“

“That in no way applies here.” 

“Maybe. But you’re gonna feel real stupid when I die in a horse related emergency.”

“That means it’s an emergency with horses, Dean. Another one would not help.”

Dean laughed—She was back to being his girl, even if She wasn’t Dean’s anything—and helped Her to her feet. “C’mon, we can get a huge tub of ice cream and stick Zachariah in it.”

She sighed, but Dean could see the twitch of Her lips. She felt better. No longer shrinking into Herself, Her fingers laced through Dean’s as he pulled her outside with low whispers and Her pretty giggles carrying on the wind. They ended up at the convince store—armed, because they weren’t idiots—to get snacks, and sat in Baby’s front seat as the night crept on, and Her head landed on Dean’s shoulder.

He cleared his throat when he was about halfway through his bag of jerky, and She turned to him with that pretty, fluttering gaze. He almost forgot how to talk.

“I, uh-“ Dean coughed, and this was important. He had to ask, or it was going to drive him insane for the rest of his life. “What was Heaven like, before you jailbreaked?”

She stared at him for a beat before answering. “Different.”

He raised his brows, and She let out a slow sigh. 

“I- I don’t want to talk about it.” She mumbled. “Please.”

Dean didn’t want to not talk about it. He needed to know if he’d been in Her heaven. If he’d haunted the edge of all Her greatest hits, the same was She’d lined his. Because half of Dean’s heaven had been the better times with Sammy, and his rose-painted memories of his mother, but the other half had been Her. Meeting Her. Hunting with Her, hugging Her, two out of their three kisses—the second one a harsh, bright loop, because She’d kissed him—and a lot of moments like this. Sitting in his car, talking like things weren’t complicated. In a way that, to anyone just passing by the window, would look like two normal people in love. 

And that was exactly why Dean wouldn’t push it. He loved Her. It had been a long enough day as it was, and he didn’t want to end it in a fight.

“Alright.” He held out a gummy worm for Her, and tried not to jump on Her when she ate it out of his hand. “Who made the better case? Lucifer or Michael?”

She gave him an odd look, and Her voice fell to something soft. “Neither.”

“C’mon, sweetheart-“

“I’m serious.” She said, reaching into Dean’s lap for another gummy worm. She was trying to kill him. “They both sort of offered me the same thing. And even if I trusted one of them more than the other, and I fucking don’t, I’m not picking a side.”

Dean hummed. “What’d they offer you?”

She paused, scanning over Dean’s features so carefully, and he really hope She wouldn’t lie. Not because of the lie, but because if She didn’t want him to know what they'd offered Her, it was probably something he’d have to worry about-

“Paradise.” She whispered, and Dean swallowed. That was the truth. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” He sounded like an idiot. She didn’t seem to mind. 

“Promise me you won’t say yes to Michael.”

Dean blinked. “Wha-“

“Please.” She held up Her pinky. “Promise.”

Dean had considered it a few times. When there looked to be no way out. But then Michael had kidnapped his girl and made Her cry. And Dean had made Her cry a lot, but at least he’d been sick with guilt after. Michael probably thought he’d been right to lock Her up. And Dean would never hurt Her on purpose. So he wasn’t going to say yes to anyone who hurt Her. Ever. 

It seemed to mean a lot to Her that he promised, though. And it was an easy promise to make. 

“Okay.” He hooked his pinky through Her’s. “Pinky promise, Princess. Michael’s too tall to get on this ride.”

She let out a soft, breathy giggle, but didn’t let go. “For anything, right? You’ll never let him in?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.”

She let out a slow breath, and nodded. It calmed Her down. Dean was helping Her, and right now, that was the most he could do. 

They had work to do—planning and hunting and trying to stop the end of the world—but Dean most just had to help Her.

“I am not saying that.”

Dean glanced at Cas in the blue light of the TV, and found him glaring at a box in his lap. “Cas.”

Cas’ eyes shot up. “Dean.”

“What are you doing.”

“Talking to Zachariah.” Cas sighed, glaring back down at the box. “He was of a higher rank than I was. I was hoping he’d be able to tell me what Michael knows about the Bride of God, but he is being… uncooperative. And vulgar.”

She hummed, tilting Her head against Dean’s chest. She’d been lying there for an hour. He’d been very chill about it. “You can talk to him, in his jar?”

“Angel radio.” Cas muttered. “A one-to-one line.”

“Walkie talkie.” Dean offered, and Cas frowned.

“I do not know what that means.”

“It’s like a one-to-one radio,” Sam called from the table, not looking up from his book. “Dean’s actually right with this one.”

“The fuck you mean this one-“ 

Dean’s snap was cut off with an oof, and She’d shoved him back down onto the couch, giving him a firm glare before turning back to Cas. Dean was mostly just gaping up at Her like a dumbass. He wanted Her to shove him again, then maybe climb onto his lap and kiss him stupid, until he rolled them over and fucked Her into the couch-

“Do you think it’s important for us to worry about that?” Her voice was catious, and Dean let his hand trail up to Her waist. Just to rub small circles, and keep Her steady. “I mean, it’s not like I am God-“

“Yet.” Cas shrugged, and She tensed. “If both Michael and Lucifer want you on their teams, there may be other reasons than Sam and Dean. And if you are the Bride of God, maybe there is some sort of connection. My search has been useless-“

“Cas.” Sam cut in, his words soft. “I don’t think we should use her as just- A way to find God. This isn’t like Dean’s amulet, we need her-“

“And it’s not like God seems all that interested in what’s goin’ on anyway.” Dean grumbled. “He’s fuckin’ God, Cas, he wants us, he can make a house call.”

“No.” Her eyes were locked on to Cas’, and Dean frowned. That was a weird stare. “I- I’m with Cas. It can’t hurt to check.”

Dean sighed, “Fine.” And got a glare from Sam.

“Really, man? You’re just going to switch sides-“

“We lost, Sammy. Deal with it.” Dean looked back to Cas. “We bought ice cream, last week. We can shove him in there until he starts talking.”

Cas shook his head, and it was the only thing that saved Dean from getting hit. “That will not be effective. I do not believe he actually knows anything.”

She frowned. “Then wha- Oh.” Her eyes widened, and Dean sighed. She was going to say something stupid. “I have an idea.”

Dean needed to get better at saying no to Her ideas. They were always designed to try and fucking kill him. A good idea would be something safe and controlled, where the chances of it going wrong were slim and if it did go wrong, Dean could shoot their way out and carry Her to safety. 

This was not that. 

This was insane. 

Raphael. She wanted to use one of Her easy bake magic spells to summon Raphael and interrogate him like it was a freaking job interview. And there were about a million ways that could blow up in their faces, but Dean used all his willpower to say no to Her hunting Pestilence with Cas and Sam. And that had taken a whole argument in the kitchen, that he’d only won because Bobby cut in, called them both dramatic, and told Her that while her magic shit was still haywire, she shouldn’t be playin’ with jumper cables.

And this wasn’t much better. But at least She didn’t have nightmares about Raphael. 

So, small victories.

“It don’t like this,” Dean muttered, frowning at Her on the floor. She was knelt on the grass in the middle of the woods, drawing a sigil in the dirt. “I wanna go back to my ice cream idea-“

“If this doesn’t work, we can do the ice cream idea.” She stood up, wiping Her hands on her jeans. “Did you bring the mushrooms?”

Dean nodded, fumbling in his pockets with a small frown. “I want it down that I think there are other options,” he muttered, passing her the weird, moldy looking fungus he’d been tasked with carrying. “Jumping right in archangel wrestling is insane, Princess-“

“I’m not wrestling him, I’m trapping him.” She ground the mushroom in Her hand. “And I know you hate this, De, but I’d- I don’t want to do it alone-“

Her words ended in a squeak as Dean rolled his eyes, and tugged Her to his side. 

“You’re not doing anything alone,” he wanted to say baby. Her eyes were so bright on his, and She’d chosen to be here.

He couldn’t get away with it.

So he just said Her name, and held her gaze.

“Safe together.” He grunted, and Her throat bobbed. “All the way down.”

She nodded slowly, the tension in Her shoulder loosening. “All the way down. Are you-“

“Light it up.”

Her hand locked into Dean’s, and She looked up to the sky as she said a word that had to be Enochian. Then another word, then–right as She called the last one—the sky split open and she tossed a match onto the forest ground. 

A wildfire didn’t start. Lighting was striking the ground before him, but Dean wasn’t dying. Their hands felt fused together for a split second—skin melting into skin—but then it was over. The blinding light cleared, and there was Raphael. Frowning around the forest, then scowling as his attention landed on Her. 

“Oh.” He let out a long, heavy sigh. “Of course it’s you. And the most frustrating creature on the planet. And Dean Winchester, I thought I promised to make you wish you were never born?”

Dean shrugged, tugging Her a little behind him. “You can try, buddy, but-“

“You’ve got me in holy fire.” Raphael drawled, giving him a flat look. “I am aware. And reinforced holy fire, too. You are smart to keep such insubordinate company.” His eyes landed back on Her. “Smart to bring the whore.”

 “Listen here, you son of a bitch-“

“You want me to find God again?” Raphael cut Dean off with a bored tone. “Or maybe try to reason with Michael, when I have made it very clear I have no interest in doing so? Maybe you’re coming to your senses, and Michael’s blind faith in her,” he jerked his head to Her, and Dean was getting pretty fucking sick of how Raphael looked at Her like she was meat. “Isn’t misplaced?”

“We just want to talk,” She said, Her voice in a strange sort of song with the holy fire. “I- I have-“ She pulled Zachariah out of their bag, and Raphael’s eyes narrowed. 

“You expect me to care about Zachariah? You brought him as leverage? The most irritating angel I have ever met, including your little pet rebel?”

Dean scowled. “Cas isn’t our pet, dipshit-“

“Ah.” Raphael cut him off with a smirk. “Not your pet. I mean. Maybe your pet. But I was talking about her.” He looked back to Her, and her breathing sounded too shallow. “The Bride. The little girl, running around with angels in her pockets and gallivanting with humans, when she could bring paradise all on her own. Michael doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows.”

“Knows?” She whispered, and Raphael’s grin grew. 

“What you could be, if you weren’t you. He can see it. I can see it. But he will not accept that our father is dead-“

“He isn’t.”

Dean froze at Her soft words, and Raphael frowned. 

“What.”

“God,” She said, taking a slow step forward. “He isn’t dead.”

Raphael flinches slightly, but scoffed all the same. “You don’t know what you speak of, girl. You are still in infancy, and I have seen false prophets before-“

“But I’m not a false prophet.” She whispered, and Raphael froze. She was releasing Dean’s hand, passing him Zachariah, and walking forward. “You know that.”

“Do not tell me what I know-“

“But you do know.” She tilted Her head, and Dean could swear all the colors on the forest were getting saturated. That Her skin was starting to glow from more than the fire. “Just like you know that if you do touch Cas or Dean, I’ll hurt you.”

That was fear on Raphael’s face. Real damn fear. And Dean understood it. 

She’d stepped over the holy fire, and it had done nothing but dance along Her skin. Dean had a feeling if She turned back to look at him, Her pupils would be a brilliant silver. 

“Nobody would ever hurt again,” Raphael said, taking a step back as She walked forward, the Blade spinning in Her hands. “That father of yours would walk, Castiel’s grace would be returned, that girl, on your fingers, we’d bring her back as well, and- I know what Michael promised you-“

“I don’t care what Michael promised me.” She hissed, and Raphael seemed backed right to the edge of the circle. “And I think I can give Castiel his grace back myself. Just as I can resurrect, and heal. I don’t think I need you.”

Raphael’s eyes darted back to Dean, then narrowed. “You don’t understand what you can do. And we have a backup, while you will not get the liberty of a second choice-“

“I don’t need one.” She shrugged, stopped barely a foot front Raphael, all the wind seeming to swirl around Her. “Tell Michael that I’m out. And if he tries to touch my d- family, we’ll find out exactly what does make God come back.”

Raphael opened mouth, and Her hand pressed over it. 

Then there was a second where Dean couldn’t see anything but Her. Like a lighthouse in a storm, telling him to follow Her and dodge the swirling chaos of the lightning and thunder. It hadn’t been raining a minute ago. 

But when his vision cleared, it was pouring. The water pressing the holy fire into smoke, Raphael had vanished and She was passed out in the mud. 

Dean skid to his knees at Her side, pulling her limp body fully into his lap. She was infuriating, and if Her cheeks weren’t flushed, and if Dean couldn’t feel the heat of a fever, radiating from Her skin, he’d shout at Her for trying to give him a heart attack. He’d known this was a bad idea, and now he had to carry Her back to the car, through a whole ass forest-

The forest.

It was blooming. 

Leaves larger than Dean had ever seen, and flowers with petals that he could swear were sucking up light like a void, then spitting it back out into the air. The grass seemed to be singing, and there were oddly twisted branches spreading over their heads as Dean carried Her, as if they were trying to shield them from the storm. Strange, iridescent apples hung over their heads, and whenever Dean glanced over to the side, he could swear he saw a flash of fur or feathers, just out of sight. 

Not attacking. 

Guarding. 

Guarding Her. All the way to the edge of the tree line, when Dean stepped on concrete, and the rain seemed to triple in force. Dean half ran to the Impala, tucking Her into the seat first and pressing a kiss to Her brow before standing back upright. She was going to drive him insane. 

He never really wanted Her any other way. 

And he stared at Zachariah, in his stupid little jar, as he waited for the rain to lighten up. Baby could make it through the storm, but Dean didn’t want to risk the roads. Not when She was in this state, and seemed alright with just the heat of the car one, and Her body curled into Dean’s. He’d changed Her into the dry clothing he kept on the trunk, but kept his eyes off the goods. 

This—Her in his arms, his hand tangled at the base of Her wet hair, and Her breath on Dean’s arm—could be enough. Dean loved Her, even when She pulled crazy shit like this, so it was enough. 

He wasn’t going to say yes to Michael. And if that hadn’t made it clear enough to the feathered douchebags, he hoped this would.

Dean grabbed the angel blade Cas had given him a few months ago, kissed the top of Her head and stepped out into the storm. The sky lit up, and another clap of thunder rolled over through the air. If they wanted Dean, they could hit him. 

But they didn’t. 

So Dean slammed the jar down on the ground and drove the angel blade right into Zachariah’s ugly mug. He looked like a tiny, strange beast, reduced so small and pathetic it didn’t even make his eyes hurt to look at. And it flickered like a candle as the rain pelted down—cold and hard, like small bullets against his skull—but Dean didn’t move. Not until the light went out, and Dean got to slam his boot down, until Zachariah was nothing more than a shit-colored stain on the pavement. 

The whole experiment had failed. But he’d still killed Zachariah. And when Dean finally got to drive Her home, he got to have Her cling to his chest. Got to carry Her inside, and bring Her right to bed. Their bed. 

At least Sammy and Cas had some better luck. 

“It’s just Death, now.” Sam said, frowning at the three rings on the table. “I think we have a little time, though. He seemed surprised to see us.”

“Their plan wasn’t completed.” Cas muttered. “He and Lucifer have been working on infecting humans with the Croatoan virus-“

Dean cut in with a frown. “Like when Zachariah sent me to the future?”

“Zachariah sent you to the future?” She gaped at Dean—wrapped in a fuzzy blanket he’d forced around her shoulders—and he sighed.

“Sorry, Princess, thought I told you-“

“No, you didn’t-“

“Dean got sent to 2014.” Cas said, and Dean was going to have to get him a gift for taking that bullet. “Croatoan had wiped out much of humanity, by causing them to kill each other, and Lucifer had won. Without Pestilence on the front lines that outcome may be delayed, but demons are not idiots. They will be able to finish what Pestilence started.”

“Great.” Dean ran a hand over his face, and the rings were fucking taunting him on the table. Unable to open the door with only three, unable to just grab Lucifer when the door did open. “So we got a game plan to stop the murder plague?”

Cas shrugged. “Imprison Lucifer.”

“By what, asking him nicely?” 

“I- I have an idea.” Sam cleared his throat, and when Dean looked to him, he seemed almost guilty. Dean didn’t trust it. “I can’t think of anything better, and it’s- it feels fair.”

“Fair?” She was frowning, and Sam gave her an almost apologetic smile.

“I’ll let Lucifer in. Then jump into the cage before he can take over my body.”

There was a high ringing in Dean’s ears again. He needed to have a serious conversation with the people he loved about trying to kill him with stupid fucking ideas. “No.”

“Dean, I don’t like it either-“

“I don’t just not like it, Sammy.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “It’s fucking insane. Batshit. What if Lucifer gets the jump on you first? What if you can’t hit eject, and now you’re stuck in the cage-“

“He will be stuck in the cage.” Cas muttered, glancing to Her. “There is no external eject button.”

The color drained slightly from Her face. “What happens if Michael and Lucifer don’t get their vessels. Are they weaker?”

“Yes.” Cas sighed. “But we already know Michael has a backup plan. And I doubt Lucifer will want to fight in his current vessel, but he doesn’t need to. If he waits Michael out, he wins.”

“So we won’t wait him out, he’ll take me and then we can trap him-“

“Sam.” Dean snapped. “We’re not fucking doing that, so stop suggesting it-“

“But-“ Sam looked to Her, and said Her name in pleading tone. “Please, it’s the only way-“

She shook He head. “I- I don’t know. It’s a big risk to take, if we don’t know it will work-“

“It will work-“

“But Dean’s right.” She’d drawn Her knees up to her chest, rubbing at her wrists as she spoke. She was distressed. “What if it doesn’t work, Sam. Then you’re stuck with Lucifer and no way out, and Dean- The future you saw-“

“Lucifer had Sam.” He muttered. “Zachariah sent me there to show me what would happen if I didn’t say yes.”

“Where is Zachariah-“

“I smashed him.” Dean grunted, narrowing his eyes at Sam. “Don’t try to change what we’re talking about, Sammy, you’re not letting Lucifer ride you like a prize pony, and that’s it.”

“But-“

“No but. I said no to Michael, you say no to Lucifer, that’s how this fucking works-“

“They’re just going to try and take Adam-“

“Then we’ll keep him here. And if you don’t stop talking crazy-“

“I could do it, Dean.” Sam stared at the floor, his voice quieter than Dean had heard it in a long time. “I know you don’t want me going to hell, but you did the same for me-“

“That’s-“

“And I started this.” Sam looked up to Her. “I want to finish it. Please.”

She swallowed, Her eyes darting to Dean’s, then Cas’. And they lingered on Cas. Like they were having a silent conversation Dean didn’t get to be a part of, and he wasn’t sure what the hell they were up to, but he didn’t like it. 

“There has to be another way, Sam.” She whispered, and Sam’s face fell. “I don’t think you should do it.”

Sam sighed, and looked back to the rings. “Just- can you think about it? Until we get the Death ring?”

She took a stuttering breath, and nodded. “Fine. I, um- I’m having trouble with the tracking spell, but I’ll get it soon. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Dean didn’t think there was shit to talk about. He wasn’t going to let Sammy just jump into Hell, when there had to be another way. She could kill Lucifer. Death could kill Lucifer. Fuck, Cas could kill Lucifer if She gave him another dose of steroids, like Heaven. They’d figure out another way. 

They just had to find Death first. 

She’d been staying up all night again. They’d watch TV on the couch, Cas frowning at it like it was something to study, Sam pouring over a book at the table, and Her at Dean’s side on the couch, scribbling down notes so fast Dean wasn’t sure how Her hands weren’t getting tired. Bobby would grumble that he was going to bed, Adam would drift in and out of the room like he wasn’t sure where he was allowed to be, and She’d just keep writing. Dean would have to pull Her to her feet, when it hit one in the morning and she wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. Then She’d just sit on the bed, Dean’s head pressed near Her thigh as he tried to sleep, and wouldn’t lie down until Dean pried the pencil from Her hands and tugged the covers over Her body. 

He was worried about Her. She was acting like this started and ended with Her, when she was refusing to choose a side. She and Cas kept fucking whispering, and She’d been looking at a lot of books on angels, and Dean knew Her.

Knew when She was planning something fucking stupid. 

“You’re not gonna use your, y’know.” Dean leaned down to whisper in Her ear, after almost a week of no progress on finding Death. “Thingy.”

She blinked up at him in the dark, and She was always so fucking beautiful. “My thingy?”

“Yeah. Your zap,” He poked Her side, and tried not to grin at Her high squeak. “The magic.”

She whacked his chest, before settling right back into his side and shaking Her head, twisting the skin of Her finger. “No. I’m not.”

Lie. 

That was a fucking lie. And Dean didn’t know how to call Her on it, but he needed to figure it out. How to tell Her that, whatever She was up to, it was probably as insane as Sam’s plan. Maybe more insane. And She couldn’t just pull something without at least warning Dean, because Sam was still pushing the let Lucifer in plan, and if he lost either one of them, Dean was going to go insane. 

But they weren’t making any progress. Cas said they had time, but it couldn’t be that much. They’d gone over Sam and Cas’ fight with Pestilence—he’d tried to make them sick, had whined about humans, and Cas had cut his finger off, nothing special—about a million times in the hope it would give them ideas about Death, or a bigger picture of Lucifer’s plan, but it hadn’t. And they were stuck right where they’d started. Holed up in Bobby’s cabin with only a few small cases, trying to figure out how to stop the end of the freaking world and keeping Adam away from Michael.

“Can you shoot an archangel?” Adam asked, and Dean shook his head, reloading his shotgun.

“Not in a way that’s gonna do anything.” He muttered. “But you can piss them off, if you want.”

Adam nodded, glancing down to his own gun. “So there are no protections?”

“Not for you and me, other than telling the douchebags to take a hike.” 

“How come they’re not, like- Burning down the house, then? If they’re that desperate for us.”

Dean grunted Her name, and something to the right of his heart whined. She was in the freaking library with Cas. She was fine. “Told you, she’s warded the whole property. Nothing’s getting in that she doesn’t open the door for.”

“Oh.” Dean glanced over, and Adam was blushing. “She’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.” He jerked his head to the lined-up beer bottles. “Shoot.”

He didn’t want to talk about how cool She was with Adam. Not when the poor kid had been making heart eyes at Her all week, and Dean had been trying to figure out if now was a bad time to try kissing Her again, every single waking moment. It probably was. Any time right before the end of the world was, She was still processing the Bride of God thing, and Raphael hadn’t been helpful in telling them about her destiny at all. All they knew was that She didn’t seem to have a 100% approval rating with archangels, she could be more, and God was alive. 

Dean hadn’t loved how certainly She’d said that. He needed to figure out how to ask Her about that, too. As well as what the hell She was planning, and how to talk her out of it without caving, and—if She got the choice, and God returned—She wouldn’t just want to not marry God, but maybe stay with Dean-

“How did you guys meet her?” Adam cut through Dean’s thoughts, and none of the bottles had been shot. 

“Case we worked in 2000. Then we just kept running into each other, and now we’re here.”

Adam frowned. “But isn’t she Bobby’s daughter-“

“Adopted.” Dean muttered. “It’s complicated. The bottles-“

“And she’s, uh- Just your friend-“

“Adam.” Dean snapped. “Shoot the fuckin’ bottles.”

Adam swallowed, and obeyed. He was an alright shot, but getting better by the day. He had asked if She could teach him how to shoot, instead of Dean, but She’d just shaken Her head and mumbled that she didn’t use a gun.

And Adam had a crush. Which was fine. It was a weird, intense crush that didn’t seem to let Adam notice how She was always next to Dean, but it was just a crush. Dean couldn’t be pissed about a crush. Not on Her. She was beautiful and smart and funny, and sweet in strange, small ways that he’d never really understand. Even when She was up until three in the morning—writing and reading in bed, swatting Dean’s hand away whenever he tried to get Her to sleep—She kept quiet so he could rest. And when Dean would roll around with a grunt, Her fingers would tangle into his hair, and he’d feel like a dog again. She kept getting all his favorite foods when She and Sam did their grocery runs. She always sat with him while he worked on Baby and the Firebird.

“You never named him, y’know-“

“I did, actually.” She was sat on the hood of Baby, parked across from the Firebird as Dean ran his maintenance. “I just haven’t told you yet.”

Dean raised his brows. “You gonna tell me, sweetheart?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“Pretty shit surprise-“

“That’s what you think.”

Dean snorted. “That is what I think. And you gotta tell me, Princess, it’s not fair to just tease like that.”

“I think I’ll tell you whenever I want.” She shrugged, leaning forward with a bright, pretty smile. “But you’ll like it.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, you will.” She glanced to Dean’s grease-stained hands. “Do you want gloves, De? It’s cold-“

He shook his head. “I’m fine. But if you gotta go inside-“

“I’m good here.” She said it like it was the plain, simple truth. She was good here. With Dean. 

So he wouldn’t let Her down. And She was awesome, all the time, so Dean would claw himself apart to be worthy of that. He couldn’t be God, but he could buy Her all the root beers in the world, and make Her breakfast, and sit with Her while she did Her research. Soothing Her when she had nightmare. Pretending that the walls weren’t closing in on all of them, as they got closer to finding Death, and didn’t have a plan to get Lucifer in the cage. 

“I can’t get it.” She glared at all Her notes on the kitchen table, shaking Her head. “Dean, I- I can’t get it-“

“Hey.” He grabbed Her hand, and She looked to him with big, glossy eyes. “You’ll get it. You need to go for a drive?”

She nodded weakly. “Or- Maybe a walk-“

“I could go for a walk.” Adam jumped in, his eyes shooting up from the lore book in his lap. She and Sam had been helping him catch up on everything, and he was taking well to it, but son of a bitch, Dean didn’t want Her to go on a walk with him. Not because of insane reason like jealousy, but the kid didn’t know how to take care of Her. How to defend Her if angels started raining down from the sky. If She started having a freak out, She’d need Dean-

“Okay.” She gave Adam a small smile, squeezing Dean’s hand three times as She stood up. “Let’s go.”

Dean gave Adam a small nod as they passed him, and he had to be fine with it. He had no real reason not to be. She’d be fine, Adam would be fine, and it wasn’t like they were storming a vamp nest. She was just being kind, and letting Adam go for a walk with Her. Probably just around the yard. Dean wouldn’t lose more family by letting that happen. 

And Sam kept pushing the Lucifer idea, in the car and the morning and every damn second of peace Dean tried to get. Bobby had put them on ingredient gathering for Her spell—Sam and Dean found them, Cas ran the errand—and Sam wouldn’t stop bringing it up. All while Adam was still trying hit on Her, and Dean had to herd Her away for the ingredient work.

She was already doing everything. She didn’t need to do more. Dean couldn’t take Her hurting herself while Sammy was trying to fucking die. She—by some miracle—gave it up. And Cas was able to sweep up all Her ingredients in a night, so the moment She got it, they’d be set. Then a whole new issue would arise, but that was a problem for after. 

She and Cas had been whispering. A lot. Sam and Dean left for two days, doing demon hunt a town over, and when they came back Adam was reading a book in the living room, Bobby was cleaning his guns, and She and Cas were talking in low voices in the kitchen. Sam shot Dean a worried look, and Dean sighed. He didn’t know what the hell to do about that. They were probably just talking about the Death spell. 

Probably. 

Son of a bitch, Dean hoped they were just talking about the Death spell.

Maybe Cas was helping with it, and they’d get this over with sooner, and She’d start sleeping properly again. Dean could see the bags getting heavier under Her eyes. She’d been eating less again, and all Her sleep had been nightmares he had to hold Her through—or, over the past nights, talk Her down from over the phone—and it was splitting him in half. She was going outside less, as well. Just a few walks with Adam, because the kid kept asking Her, and midnight drives with Dean. Every other moment had been research, teaching Adam about the lore, and whispering with Cas. 

Dean said Her name, and She looked up at him with a wide, blinding smile. She looked exhausted. “Hey, Princess.”

“Hi,” Her smile didn’t waver as She glanced to Sam. “You guys-“

“One piece.” Dean dropped in the chair at Her side, and he might have gotten away with carrying Her out of the room for research, but carrying Her to bed with it was barely dusk was going to get him stabbed. “You eat yet, sweetheart?”

“She had yogurt.” Cas said, and Dean frowned.

“You make her eat the yogurt, dude?”

“Don’t answer that.” She gave Cas a firm look, and his mouth snapped shut, but Dean understood what that meant.

“Goddamnit,” he said Her name with glare, and She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Fuck off, Winchester, you’re not my dad.”

Sam snorted, and Dean shot him a glare. 

“Shut your face, Sammy-“

“I didn’t say anything, dude.” Sam raised his hands, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I was just going to ask what they did while we were gone-“

“Death spell.” Cas said, and Dean narrowed his eyes. Cas had said that too damn fast. And Dean opened his mouth to push it, but he didn’t get the chance.

“Good,” Bobby grunted, wheeling into the kitchen. “You four travel like gazelle, you know that?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“I find one of ya idjits, the other three ain’t gonna be far behind.” Bobby stopped at the head of the table, giving Her a firm look as he said Her name. “No knives at the dinner table.”

She frowned. “But-“

“No but. We’re eatin’ dinner now, together.”

Cas cleared his throat. “I don’t need to eat-“

“Then you can shove it down your throat and play pretend like it matters. I’m a cripple, Cas, let me have one dinner where none of us are tryin’ to run away.”

They all exchanged quick looks—Dean liked the idea, liked the thought of getting to sit with Her for a family dinner, even if it was forced, and everyone seeing his hand in Her’s or his arms around Her chair or something—and didn’t fight it. They didn’t know how many more times they’d get a chance to sit there, with the end of the world. With Cas still on the angel blacklist, Sam gunning to jump in the cage, and Her whole Bride of God thing. 

None of them had been talking about that. 

They didn’t know how. And God wasn’t going to just swoop down and take Her, so it couldn’t be the focus right now. 

Dean really hoped God wouldn’t swoop down and take Her. 

But it was a thought stuck to the back of his brain, now. All the time. He could defend Her from demons and monsters, and he’d bleed to keep Her from God, but if they guy just appeared and grabbed Her, Dean didn’t know what kind of line he’d be able to hold. Same as if Sammy decided to say yes to Lucifer, without any heads up, Dean wouldn’t be able top stop it. Then he’d lose both of them. And he couldn’t fully enjoy the mock family dinner, because all he could think about was how he didn’t know how this ended. 

It felt like they were building up to a high, horrible drop. Like the rollercoaster he’d taken Sammy on when they were kids, hovering right at the edge of a fall they couldn’t even see with no way out but down. Sam was right. Dean didn’t have a better idea to get Lucifer in the cage. And even if that worked, and they stopped the whole apocalypse train from leaving the station, he’d have lost Sam. His one job was keeping Sam safe. Keeping his family together, and fucking safe.

They were all safe and together now. Adam was still a little stiff—as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be here—but he was still making conversation, telling stories about high school and asking them all—mostly Her—nervous questions about their own lives. Cas was answering all Her questions about history, and Sam and Bobby had started to jump in with their own. She and Sammy were nerding out about some science museum that Dean had taken Sammy to as a kid, and she’d visited when She was sixteen and hunting alone. Bobby rolled his eyes and grumbled about her illegally driving, and she just hummed who taught me how to drive, old man. 

Dean wanted to enjoy it. To not feel like he was holding something that was about to break. But there was a sort feeling in his gut, and that deep, cold fear creeping back over his bones. 

And he couldn’t sleep that night. All the was running through his head was a bunch of goddamn what ifs.

What if he let Sam jump, and lost him. What if, after he lost Sam, God swooped down and tore Her from Dean’s arm. What if the world ended, and God took Her anyway. What if God was always going to take Her. And this wasn’t like the vessel deal, where they could say no.

What if, one day, Dean woke up and She was just fucking gone.

So he couldn’t sleep. She’d passed out, but Dean had never felt more wired. He just watched Her, slumped against his body and molded so perfectly against him, and tried to reason how God could ever hold Her better than this. She fit too damn well with Dean. It didn’t matter how God had made Her, Dean got Her. Even when he didn’t understand Her, Dean got Her. He was Her shadow. He loved Her. If he could, he would have made the world for Her too, but he wouldn’t have made it like God. He would’ve made it without pain.

And he wished he could take all Her pain. Instead of just running and hiding like a fucking pussy, making Her deal with it herself.

But he couldn’t.

So when She started to mumble, and the little wrinkle formed on Her brow, Dean cradled Her in his arms. He wasn’t God.

He’d never leave Her to hurt alone. 

She tried to claw out of his arms. Pushed at his chest as a small, distressed noise left Her throat, and the world started go a little brighter without a single light on in the room. But Dean just held Her. Not tighter—he didn’t want to hurt Her, or make Her more frantic—but firmly. And when Her eyes shot open with a choked scream, silver seeming to fade quick from Her pupils as She writhed and scratched at his chest, Dean didn’t move. He just caught Her hand and squeezed it three times, because nothing was okay, but She was safe. They’d spent the time after dinner tracking omen after omen, and the end of the world drew closer with every breath, but right now, She going to be okay.

“I’ve got you, Princess.” He moved Her carefully into his lap, and She melted quick.

Broken sobs shook Her body as she wrapped around Dean, and he tried not think about how this was going to work into his own nightmares.

Something would claw Her out of his hold, She’d vanish up into the sky, and the only proof Dean would have that She ever existed at was an empty room, and pile of notebooks he couldn’t read. He’d have to tell Bobby. Tell Sammy, if he was still with them. Then either keep sleeping in Her room, or find a new one and move on, but he’d never be able to move on. He loved her, and She didn’t want to leave him, but what if God showed Her paradise and she did chose to leave him-

“Dean?” She whispered, Her words muffled in his shirt. “Am I- Did I hurt-“

“I’m fine,” he murmured. She wasn’t allowed to think She could hurt him. Ever. “You’re okay. Just a nightmare.”

She hummed, Her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah.”

“Oh- Okay.” There was a beat of silence, then- “I don’t want to go.”

Dean frowned down at Her. “Go where?”

“Back.” Her gaze titled up to meet his, and Her eyes were so soft and bright and sad. Glossed with tears and wide in the dark, and Dean sort of felt like he was drowning. “To Heaven. I- I don’t want to be one of them, Dean, I don’t want to go-“

“Hey.” He cupped Her face, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, Princess-“

“But what if he comes.” 

She’d been thinking about it too. And it didn’t make Dean feel better. It only made the cold dread drop right into that dark pit, splitting it wider and wider open. It would slice him in two, if She left. If the dread kept growing, and then he lost Her. 

“He’s going to come, De.” She whispered, planting Her hands on his chest as she sat up. “He- He watches me. I’ve always felt him watching me- And I don’t wanna go-“

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Dean wrapped himself a little tighter around Her. “He, uh- He watching right now?”

She shook Her head. “The windows are closed.”

The windows. And the curtains in every motel, for years. And She didn’t like going outside, and son of a bitch-

“He’s in the sky.” She dropped Her face down to Dean’s neck, and his hand shot up to tangle in Her hair. “He- He doesn’t come inside, and I don’t know why, but- He’s angry with me. I can feel it, and- He wants me to leave but I don’t want to-“

“Princess-“

“I don’t want to leave you, Dean.” She mumbled, and he froze. “I- I never want to leave you, but he- He keeps- I don’t want to leave-“

“So you’re not gonna. We’ll keep you safe-“

“It’s not up to you.” Her voice was so soft, and the dread grew. “He’s just waiting. And watching. But it’s- I don’t think I get to choose, and when he- When- I don’t want to go, De.” She held him a little tighter. “I don’t wanna go.”

Dean felt like his heart was trying to strain out of his chest. He was goddamn useless. He was supposed to protect Her, to make sure nothing hurt Her, but she said it wasn’t up to him. Or Her. 

He should’ve pushed Raphael for more answers. For what the Hell this meant, and how it all lined up. If it was something Dean could kill, or She just needed to be defended. If it was like a demon deal She didn’t choose to make, or a trade they could barter for. Dean could go in Her place, if God was just looking for a human. They could get God a freakin’ dog, if this was about companionship. Or one of those sex dolls, if that was about that-

He felt sort of sick.

Just thinking about Her with anyone had always made something to the left of his heart sour and foul. Thinking of God doing that, when She was crying in his arms-

Not now. She needed Dean here, holding Her. He’d deal with that later. 

Her breathing had steadied, but She wasn’t falling back asleep. She was just tracing patterns on Dean’s forearm in the dark, and he just watched Her in his arms. When She wanted to talk, she would, and he-

“Dean.” She angled Her face to his, Her eyes wide, and he frowned. “I think I’ve got it.”

 “Got-“

“Death.”

Dean blinked, and he wasn’t fast enough to pull Her back to bed, when She crawled out of his arms. This was something that could wait for morning, when they could make a game plan, and She hadn’t just been sobbing ten minutes ago.

“Princess-“

“It’ll take a few hours to finish.” She was cross-legged on the floor, all the ingredients spread out around Her as she worked. “Can you-“ She swallowed. “Please sit with me?”

Dean sighed, and nodded. It was the least he could do, because he couldn’t do much. And he fucking hated it. The itch over his skin of just sitting there as She mixed everything together and started talking in Enochian, before grabbing Her blade and passing it to Dean. She held Her palm open to him, a silent request on Her face, and the dread was starting to fester.

He muttered Her name, and She shook Her head.

“I raised him.” She whispered. “It will work. And the cut needs to go right over the scar, but I don’t think I can get the angle. Please.”

Dean swallowed down some bile, and gave a short nod. He had to. She’d asked him to. 

He still had never felt like such a horrid fucking lowlife as when he sliced Her hand open, and She made a small sound of pain.

“I’m-“

“It’s okay.” She drew Her hand back, and let the blood fall over the fancy bone of an extinct animal Cas had found. “It’ll take a few hours, then it should be like- sort of a compass. Can you-“

Dean nodded, and ran to grab the stitch kit. She didn’t fight it, when he helped Her to sit on the edge of the mattress, and dabbed the rubbing alcohol on Her hand. “Not deep enough for stitches.” He muttered, and She hummed. 

He glanced up, and found Her watching him. Shiny hair falling over Her face and blinding eyes, something gentle in Her face that was rare to see. The was the same position he’d kissed Her in, this first time. 

He wanted to kiss Her now. To show Her, best he could, that he didn’t want to leave Her either.

And he didn’t know how to say it right.

He’d fuck it up.

He’d make it sound like he had a claim to Her instead of God, or She owed him to stay after everything they’d been through. Like Paradise wasn’t something She was worthy of, when he didn’t know anyone who deserved it more. He’d been barely better than a demon in hell, and She’d been made for fucking Heaven, but She was still here with him.

But Dean was good at doing things.

And She was so close, and She smelled so good, and Her breath was hitched and lips parted and-

Fuck it. 

He tugged Her carefully down, winding his fingers between Her’s and starting soft. Just a light press of their lips together, telling Her that he was here. Even when it hurt, Dean was here. 

She let out the sweetest little gasp, Her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck, then kissed him back. 

She was kissing him back.

Her lips were soft and already a little swollen from chewing and crying, but goddamnit, they fit perfectly against Dean’s. And the kiss was a slow and unhurried, letting Dean taste every bit of salt and fruit on Her lips and his hands to wander. Skimming right under Her shirt and savoring Her small shiver. How She angled Her head back to try and carefully push his tongue between Her lips. 

She opened for him in a second, then moaned. Right down his fucking throat, with Her fingers tugging at his hair when he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled Her into his lap, without ever breaking the kiss. Dean was getting dizzy from the high of Her skin—soft and warm and so goddamn responsive, it was going to drive him insane—and body pressed right to his, and She’d started to squirm, and-

They broke apart with ragged breaths, their brows pressed together, and She let out a high, breathy giggle.

“Good?” He rasped, because he had to check, and She nodded.

“Good, De. I…“ Her lips ghosted over his as She trailed off, her eyes fluttering in that way that make his cock twitch.

She squeezed his hand three times, and Dean dragged Her wounded hand up to kiss Her knuckles, and neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Now wasn’t the time to have the Conversation, either. 

So She curled into his side, Dean kissed the top of Her head. He watched the bone on the floor as the night crept on, and drool began to fall from Her lips. He shifted Her to lay down on the bed, moving the hair from Her face, and let out a long, slow sigh. 

He was never going to be worthy of Her. Born in the mud, likely going to die in the mud, too. Dean was selfish. He knew he was selfish. The angels and demons had spent years warning them to stop letting Her fight, the Horsemen had said this wasn’t Her fight, but he’d dragged Her into it because he’d never wanted to lose Her. And now he was going to lose Her no matter what. She was going to do all the work to save their asses, and Sammy was going to try and take a bullet he didn’t deserve, and Dean was going to do jack fucking shit. 

Dad had been right. He was just a weapon, and he wasn’t even an effective one. All that skill and talent to hurt the people he hated and protect the ones he loved, and She was in pain, and he was on the edge of losing Sam. He was nothing. 

But he still loved Her. And She might be designed for people to love and want Her, but Dean loved Her best. He knew Her. He’d do anything for Her. 

Including, when the bone started to glow, one end turning black and spinning on the ground to angle East, something that was going to get him yelled at. But he was sick of just sitting here. Of making Her do everything, when this wasn’t Her fight. And it was like Pestilence. Dean knew She had nightmares about Death. He was just keeping Her from having more.

And She was going to kill him. Bobby was going to kill. Hell, Cas was going to kill him. 

But he was doing it anyway.

He had to.

The bone stayed on Baby’s dash for the entirety of the drive. Dean’s phone started lighting up in Iowa, but he didn’t look at the messages. Sammy might trace the call with all his nerd shit, and send Cas to come grab him. And if it was Her, She’d yell at him for doing the exact thing he always got pissed at Her for doing. But it was different. Dean had a solid plan of get the ring, even if he had to make another deal, and She had other ways to help. Dean was keeping them all out of the line of fire. It was Death, they didn’t know what the hell he was capable of, and every time She’d faced off with a horseman She’d come out sobbing and clinging to Dean in the dark.

The calls died down when he got to Illinois, the sun long over his head. He’d apologize. He’d come back with the ring, and let Bobby and Sam shout at him, let Cas glare and say low words of disappointment, and let Her shove him and scream until she decided She was done. But Dean was keeping Her from more pain.

He’d rather have Her furious with him than not have Her at all. 

And the bone kept spinning, guiding him to Death, and Dean kept coming up with ways they be pissed, and ways he’d apologize. He’d be fine. His whole life had been jumping in front of bullets, then letting blows land on him for daring to protect the people he loved.

If the bullet was Death, he’d see if it stuck this time. And if it didn’t, he’d go back and pray they still wanted him around.

The bone wasn’t turning anymore. It was spinning around and around as Dean circled a block in Chicago, and it was angled towards a Church.

Dean knew this church.

He’d been dreaming about it lately.

A lot.

And the rain was coming down right so hard he was soaked the second he stepped out of the car, but it didn’t matter.

The second he stepped through the doors, he was dry as a bone. 

This had been a horrible idea. One of his worst. He should have brought Her—She’d raised Death, for Christ’s sake—or at least a bigger gun. His steps were echoing of the walls, his seeming to be the only living soul in the whole building.

But not the only person. 

Because sat in the very front row, the was a man. Thin, pale, weedy black hair. And Dean froze in the aisle, but it didn’t matter anyway.  

“Dean Winchester.” The man’s voice was cool. Measured. Dean didn’t think he was made of anything but the dread anymore. “You’re early. I appreciate that.”

“Uh,” Dean cleared his throat. Chicago was such a stupid place to die. “You haven’t killed me.”

“I admire your bravery.” Death shrugged. “You are less than a bit of dust, floating in the air, but you are a very brave and stupid piece of dust. And I would call you inconsequential, but for a piece of dust, you are quite important. By association, of course.”

“Because I’m Michael vessel?”

Death let out a dry laugh. “No. That is like calling the shoelaces of a toddler important. He will get other shoelaces. If fact, he may have already.”

Dean swallowed, and took a slow step forward. He really was a dumb piece of dust. “Then what?”

“Hm. I’d prefer you sit first, before we talk.”

“But-“

Death turned, and his face was sunken. Bored. Almost skeletal, his eyes locked onto Dean’s. “Sit.”

Dean nodded, and half scrambled down the rest of the aisle, before dropping on the pew at Death’s side. It was really fucking weird. Death turned back to the dais with a small nod and sigh, and Dean just waited. This didn’t feel like an icebreaker situation. 

“I supposed you’re here about the ring.”

“Uh,” Dean felt sort of light-headed. Maybe Death was just getting him slowly. “Yes.”

“I am willing to give it to you.”

He blinked. “What?”

Death sighed. “I will give you my ring. That is one of the reasons you are not dead. You are a piece of dust that can swirl up quite the hurricane, if I direct you on the right wind.”

“Can we, uh- Drop the dust thing-“

“No.” Death turned to him with another, painfully blank expression. “Lucifer has me in a bind, I would like the ropes cut free. By putting him back in the cage, you will be doing me a favor, and I will let you continue to breathe until your time comes to a bloody, natural end.”

“Putting him back?”

“Letting Sam go on with his little plan. Not doing anything selfish to stop it.”

Dean opened his mouth, and Death shook his head. 

“People will die, if he does not. It is that simple.”

“But-“

“There is no but. I give you the ring, Sam goes in the pit. If you find another way, you may explore it, but not at the cost of the war lost. Understood?”

Dean nodded, glancing down the ring on Death’s finger. “There are other ways, though? That might work.”

“Not for you, Dean.” Death sighed. “As I explained, you are less than dust.”

“You said I was important.” Dean pushed back, because he could never shut the fuck up. “By association.”

Death gave him another bored look, and said Her name. Dean’s hands curled into fists. He couldn’t sworn that outside, thunder clapped. 

“I don’t-“

“You are of quite some significance to her.” Death said carefully. “More than I think you can understand. Killing you would be… a poor decision.”

“You- you know about her-“

“Of course I know about her. I was there when God decided he wanted her. She will likely be there when I reap him.”

“Reap God?”

“One day, yes.”

Dean felt sick, as he whispered Her name. “Does she- One day-“

Death tilted his head. “I am not sure. But you have yet to answer my question. Will you take the ring, and do whatever it takes.”

“You said there was another way-“

“Not for you. Just as there will never be another way for you to keep your princess. Not with a gun, or a bargain. She is the Bride of God, among other things. It is not something she will be. Not something that can be replaced, or worked around.” Death gave him an almost pitying look. “I like her, Dean. If I am being honest, I would happily spend eternity with her. And I do not think he deserves her, but I did warn him. Now, the ring?”

Dean felt like he was drifting. He took the ring with a weak smile and nod, and he made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but he didn’t feel it. Death vanished, leaving Dean alone in the church, but he didn’t move for a long, weighted moment. 

No other ways. There were no other ways. 

Not to save Sammy. 

Not to keep Her. 

He checked his phone, before he started the drive back. It was a lot of missed calls from everyone, and a bunch of messages he didn’t bother to read. They’d tell him all that to his face when he got back. The only important one—not worrying about him or telling him to get back now—was at the top anyway.

Sam

Adam’s missing. Get back now.

New shoelaces. Backup plan.

Fuck. 

He drifted through the drive back, too. He brought the bone back—pissing Her off more by losing her magic bone didn’t seem like a good idea—and kept the ring in his pocket, trying not to think about any of it. He didn’t want to lose Sam. He’d promised Death he’d let the plan go forward, and that didn’t seem like a good promise to break. There was no way for Dean to keep Her, even if he didn’t see anything bright through the storm if it wasn’t Her. 

And the rain had cleared, but the sun had set. The clock on the dash read 1am, when he pulled into Bobby’s yard. And all the lights were off in the house, except for one. 

The lamp in the library. 

She just looked up at him. Nothing on Her face that he could read, not a single shout or scream. Only a heavy, exhausted expression and bright eyes tracking Dean’s movements around the room, as he shed his jacket and crossed the room. She wasn’t saying a single fucking word.

It was worse than shouting or hitting.

It was made of the dread. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly, dropping to his knees before Her. He wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch Her right now. “I trust you, Princess, and I woulda brought you with me, but Pestilence and Famine, those sons of bitches fucked you up, and-“ He didn’t know what he was saying. It was going to be the wrong thing. He couldn’t stop. “It fucking kills me, when you’re like that and I can’t do shit about it. But I got it. I got the ring. And I know you’re pissed, and you can kick my ass and I’ll sleep on the couch, but- I’m sorry.”

There was a long, horrid moment of silence, and he’d lost Her. She wouldn’t be in pain, but this had been the thing, the one that was always going to happen, and She’d leave, and Dean was never going to get to hold Her again-

“I thought you left.” She whispered, and Dean’s gaze shot up. “You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

Son of a bitch. Dean could see it now. The red of Her eyes, the rattiness of Her hair and shine on Her cheeks, combined with the raw skin on Her wrists. 

She’d been crying.

Dean was never supposed to make Her cry.

“I didn’t leave-“

“You said we’d go together.” She cut him off with an almost pleading tone. “And I- I had a freakout last night, and I told you God’s watching me, and we-“ Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We kissed and I- I thought-“

Dean grabbed Her hands, rising up a little higher on his knees. “Look at me.”

She shook Her head, and they done this dance before. A lot.

Dean would keep doing it, as long as he got to keep touching Her. To brush the hair from Her face, take Her face between his hands, and angle Her gaze onto his. He’d do it forever.

“I’d never leave you, Princess.” He muttered, keeping his words low and firm. “I don’t give a shit that God’s watching you. I’m with you. All the way down.”

“Oh- okay.” She took a shaking breath. “I’d never make you sleep on the couch, De.”

He sighed. “You don’t gotta-“

“I couldn’t sleep.” She mumbled, Her gaze still locked onto his. “Needed you.”

Fuck.

Dean could be needed. He could nod, and carry Her to bed, mumbling a lot more apologies, because he was a piece of shit, but he was Her piece of shit. And once he was in bed, he changed fast and crawled into bed, because this wasn’t going to be his to keep, but he had it now. Her in his arms. Her face in his neck. 

And there had to be another way. Death said there wasn’t, but there always was. Maybe not for Dean, but for someone else, doing him a favor. There had to be another fucking way, because if the smell of fruit haunted him like this for the rest of his life, just out of his reach and crying for him to come save it from the tree, he’d drive himself mad. 

“I’m mad at you.” She grumbled against Dean’s shoulder, and he sighed.

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Don’t ever fucking do that again.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She paused, Her arms wrapped around his torso, and he would fight for this. 

He loved Her. 

And if Dean was good at anything, it was breaking things for people he loved.

“De?”

He grunted, and She propped her chin on his shoulder. 

“Happy birthday.”

He let out a long breath, and took another stupid risk. It was his birthday, and the world was going to end, and She was looking at him so pretty in the dark, and-

Son of a bitch, he just wanted to be selfish. That was the only real reason. 

And it was worth it. Because he sat up carefully, until he was propped over Her on an elbow, and leaned down. Slotted his lips gently over Her’s and taking it lazy and slow, kissing Her just to kiss Her. To taste Her and know She was here and, for now, Dean’s. 

She let him. She fisted his shirt and pulled him deeper, until he was half on top of Her and he could hear only his heartbeat, and all those amazing sounds he was somehow allowed to pull from Her.

He didn’t pull away this time. Not fully. Dean kept his lips hovering over Her’s and folded his hand into Her’s, giving Her his best, widest, most come fucking love me, please, because I’ll love you until I don’t have a soul anymore, grin.

“Thanks, Princess.” He murmured, and he’d stay here forever. 

With Her. 

In the dark, as the end of the world drew closer, but the whole universe was in his arms, and he never wanted to let it go.

End Note: What a beautiful, rare win for their communication skills. Two whole kisses. They're going to be so normal about this.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[elvensorceress]

snippet sunday

more of Buck pining and being an oblivious disaster. whee! and also buckleydiaz roommate summer because I will accept nothing else.

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Buck puts the flyer away and doesn't think about it. He doesn't need to. It's not relevant. Until it comes up at breakfast the next morning.

“Where did this come from?” Chris sits at the table and sets his crutches to the side. He holds up the colorful flyer advertising Pride Night Speed Dating at some wine bar in WeHo this weekend. Buck had left it in the living room with his keys. Where it was supposed to be forgotten and not something to worry about.

Buck puts down the cutting board he was cleaning and dries his hands. “Uh, Maddie gave it to me. You hungry, buddy?”

Chris nods but focuses on reading the flyer. “How is this supposed to work? What is a ‘speed date’?”

Buck dishes up a hefty serving of the scramble, tops it with extra cheese because Chris always wants extra cheese, and sets it in front of Chris with silverware and one of the muffins. “I don’t know for sure. I’ve never been to one of these. I think the idea is you sit down one on one with someone for five minutes, small talk and try to get to know them a little, and then switch tables and talk to someone else and do it all over again. Until you find someone you want to keep talking to. If that even happens.” 

Chris thanks him but hums contemplatively before he sets the flyer down. “So you go around ‘dating’ a bunch of people?”

“Y-yeah. I guess. Yeah?” 

Chris raises eyebrows at him. “I thought it was better to only date one person. And not go around dating a whole bunch of different people because it can hurt their feelings when you’re dating around behind their back.” 

Buck stops and stares at him, and why does it sound like a criminal accusation? Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. He hasn’t gone out to the event. He hasn’t even decided if he is going to go? “That’s when— when you know you like someone. And you know you’re dating only them. This is for— f-for when you don’t have anyone you like. You’re trying to find someone you like. Someone you’d want to go on a real date with.” 

Chris tips his head and keeps looking at him oddly, accusingly. At least it really feels like it. 

“This,” Buck picks up the flyer. “Is just a thing so you can find someone. S-someone you want to get to know. And might want to— to be with. If you had someone you liked, you wouldn’t go to one of these.” 

“Then,” Chris says. “There’s no one you like?”

Oh god. 

It’s too early in the morning for this. 

Why is there a washing machine churning Buck’s stomach and prickles all over his skin? Why is his face so hot? Why is it so hot in here? The A/C is working just fine and it usually comes through the kitchen first because the unit is in the backyard on the other side of the kitchen wall. It should be plenty cool in here. Why does this feel worse than hiding away illegal drugs or some other kind of contraband? It’s just an innocent social mixer thing. And it’s true that Buck isn’t crushing on anyone. He has no feelings for anyone. He’s single, unattached, and feelings-less. 

“Nope. No one. No prospects. Or suitors. Or whatever the hell we’re calling them in this century. Don’t want to be an old bachelor. And Maddie thinks I’ve learned my ‘how to be alone’ lesson adequately again. So. She thought I might like to go meet some people.” 

“You want to meet people. And find someone to date.”

“Yeah?” Isn’t that what most people want? A lot of them anyway? Maybe not, but Buck wants someone. He really, really wants someone to love who will also love him. And be with him forever and become his home and family so he actually has a home and family. “At some point?” 

Chris nods but doesn’t look at him. He does pick up his fork and stab through his food, not really putting together a bite and not doing anything but picking through it.

[bnhaobservation]

Ultra Age bits: the Q&A (Part 2)

And here there's part two of...

"MY HERO ACADEMIA"

READERS' QUESTIONS BOX

Q. 37 I was shocked when I saw the name Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! What was the origin of the name?

A. 37 I just wanted him to remember it. It’s not a sparkly name, it’s a very serious name.

Q.38 There was a scene where Monoma and Bakugou were blowing things up at the graduation ceremony. I wonder if they became closer!

A. 38 Monoma has been getting closer than ever. Bakugou died right in front of his eyes. He must have been worried.

Q.39 Did Kendo participate in beauty pageants in his second and third years? If so, how much did he come in?

A. 39 In his first year, Monoma entered her without her permission, so she hasn’t participated since.

Q. 40 What was the most popular gag of Mirio after he became a pro hero?

A. 41 Now, the expanded version of “The peaches are ripe” called “We have to harvest the peaches quickly” is very popular among children. I drew it inspired by Nakayama Kinnikun-san’s candy-picking game*. Actually, I drew Mirio with Nakayama Kinnikun-san in mind.

* Nakayama Kinnikun (なかやまきんに君) is a Japanese male comedian, YouTuber, and bodybuilder. It seems he makes a game in which he throws candies and people has to grab them with a plastic glass… though I’m not 100% sure about it.

Q. 41 Is there any food that Tamaki hesitated to eat because they would be reflected by his Quirk?

A. 41 No. When he was a child, he used to get scared like most people, but the fun of being able to copy it with his Quirk outweighed that, and now he only see food from that perspective. He’s someone who is interested in eating everything.

Q. 42 I heard that Nejire is so popular that the floor will collapse, but will she still be popular after she becomes a pro hero?

A. 42 She is so popular that it seems the universe is expanding faster. She doesn’t even realize it.

Q. 43 When Hatsume was so involved into development, what was the longest number of days she went without a bath?

A. 43 Two weeks. I went for over a month, but that was because I didn’t sweat. An active person like Hatsume would probably have tears in their eyes from yawning by the third day.

Q. 44 How fast did All Might run in his prime?

A. 44 He was running at Mach 10.

Q. 45 How much has Endeavor, the hard worker, recovered

A. 45 He has recovered enough to walk without help. He carries a cane.

Q. 46 Does Hawks still treasure his Endeavor stuffed toy? Does he have any other Endeavor goods?

A. 46 He doesn’t display it. I think it’s somewhere in his house as something he can’t throw away. Hawks doesn’t buy merchandise or anything. I think it’s a different emotional vector from the so-called fan psychology.

Q. 47 In the final episode, Aizawa-sensei’s hair was short. Is there a reason for cutting it?

A. 47 Aizawa keeps his hair long because he thinks it’s irrational to cut it regularly. So he only cuts it once every few years. It was just the right time.

Q. 48 Please tell me the secret of Mirko’s vitality!

A. 48 It’s because she’s living always ready to die.

Q. 49 Is there a reason why the name of the 6th One For All user, En which is written as ‘kemuri’ (“smoke”), is pronounced “En”?

A. 49 At first I wanted it to be pronounced “Kemuri”, but there was a comedian with the same name, so I made it “En”. My intention was that 煙= Kemuri would be a wordplay with け六(む)り, but no one understood the joke*.

* The kanji 六, which means “six” is normally read ‘roku’ but can also be read ‘mu’. Basically the wordplay is similar to say his name would have been KeSIXri, referencing the fact he was the six user.

Q. 50 What kind of “quirk” did Shigaraki have when he was born?

A. 50 The circular thing All For One (AFO) had when he was floating was the basis of Tenko’s “quirk”. It’s a combination of several Quirks, so Tenko’s original Quirk didn’t have that much propulsive power.

Q. 51 I heard that Shigaraki played games with Spinner, but what kind of interactions and games did he have with the other members of the League of Villains?

A. The only one he played with was Spinner. With the others he just chatted. Maybe he played poker with them.

Q. 52 All For One said “Shigaraki” was his surname, but what is his real name?

A. 52 His name is Shigaraki Zen (死柄木全)*. He gave himself his first name first, and later he took that surname. When he was old enough to understand, he heard a rumor about “The Shigaraki Tanuki of the Red Light District.”** A woman used to always stands at the entrance of his town, waiting for customers to arrive, but no one would speak to her. Her swollen body and the way she stood motionless made her look like a Shigaraki Tanuki. The woman's body was found downstream of the river, but she was so thin that it was hard to believe she was the same person. To be precise, she was just skin and bones. In that town a monster lurked. Zen has no memory of it, but strangely enough, he liked the story and from then on took the surname “Shigaraki”.

* Zen (全) means “all”.

** Shigaraki ware (信楽焼) is a type of stoneware pottery made in Shigaraki area, Japan. The kiln is one of the Six Ancient Kilns in Japan with figures representing the tanuki, a kind of yōkai (supernatural beings) found in the classics and in the folklore and legends of various places in Japan, commonly associated with the Japanese raccoon dog being one of their popular products.

Q. 53 Which one Dabi prefer, hot soba or cold soba?

A. 53 Zaru Soba. The kind that aren’t hot.

Q. 54 Toga-chan always wears a sailor uniform, but does she have any cute casual clothes?

A. 54 She has several sailor uniforms, and buys her favorite ones for casual wear, then throws them away as soon as she’s done with them. It’s a habit to deceive pursuers. However, she likes the sailor uniform very much, so she thinks it’s fine.

Q. 55 When drawing Twice what is your favorite expression of his?

A. 55 I remember that I had fun drawing all the frames for Twice.

Q. 56 Kurogiri was like a bar owner at the League of Villains’ hideout, but is he good at making things like coffee?

A. 56 He’s good at serving Shigaraki what he wants to drink or eat within 10 seconds. It takes about 3 minutes longer to serve it to other people.

Q. 57 What kind of magic is Mr. Compress best at?

A. 57 He has mastered all the vanishing magic tricks. Magician characters often carry playing cards, so I thought I would not have him hold playing cards, but I think it would have been better if I had shown him doing more magic tricks.

Q. 58 How has the public responded to the book that Spinner wrote?

A. 58 It was published under heavy criticism. It caused a big stir, but some people gave it a certain amount of praise from the perspective of learning why such a big incident occurred.

Q. 59 How did the League of Villains prepare their meals? Also, was there anyone who could cook for themselves?

A. 59 They went shopping in disguise. It was basically ready-made food.

Q. 60 I want to know what Stain liked to eat!

A. 60 He had an extremely organic diet. His staple foods were fish and wild vegetables. He despised industry processed foods.

Q. 61 How many centimeters are Gigantomachia’s feet?

A. 61 It varies, so I don’t know.

Q. 62 Are there any stories about Overhaul's cleanliness freak habits?

A. 62 He had a lot of clothes and changed them three times a day. I didn't draw that because it could have been cute.

Q. 63 GeL Inc., where Gentle and LaBrava work was established by them? Also, what kind of work this company does?

A. 63 It's a startup. It does things like Google.

Q. 64 I’d like to know the name and quirk of the child who was helped by the grandmother in chapter 429!

A. 64 His name is Terumoto Kouki-kun (照元光輝). His quirk is “darkness” (闇). His ability is similar to that of Zehahaha*. He’s about 9-10 years old.

*Zehahahaha is the sound Marsall D. Teach, also known as Blackbeard from “One Piece” makes when he laugh. He ate the Yami Yami no Mi Devil Fruit and can therefore create, control, and transform into darkness. The darkness is visually demonstrated by a black smoke-like substance spreading out from his body. The darkness, similar to a black hole, is a void that devours and crushes everything. Due to this, he can absorb physical matter and attacks of any type by sucking it into the darkness and can also use this ability to irresistibly pull the opponent to them, regardless of their current state. He can also absorb and completely nullify the powers of other Devil Fruit users by simply touching them. I don’t know if this means Terumoto is able to also nullify Quirks.

Q. 65 I’d like to know the details of the hero chart rankings as of the final chapter!

A. 65 I had written out up to 50th place, but I’ve changed it since then, so I don’t have the official ones... sorry! There’s a character named Rodeo who hasn’t appeared yet who’s in the middle of the list.

Q. 66 In the final episode, Eri was holding something that looked like an instrument, so is she in a band?

A. 66 She joined the light music club. She played guitar and sang until middle school, but in high school she wanted to start a band, and the band members are the friends who were in that frame.

Q. 67 What does the hero license exam consist of?

A. 67 There is a written test, an interview, and a practical test. The practical test consists of three types: a physical fitness test, a rescue test, and a combat test, and the content changes every time.

Q. 68 Does U.A. High School have a school song?*

A. 68 I think it has one, but I haven’t thought of one yet. Maybe I’ll make one.

* Japanese high schools (and all levels of Japanese schools) typically have a school song, often called a "school anthem" or "school song". These songs are an important part of school culture and are often sung at ceremonies, events, and even during regular school days.

QUESTIONS FROM OVERSEAS MY HERO ACADEMIA FANS!!

Q. 69 What aspect or process of creating My Hero Academia do you enjoy the most?

A. 69 It’s the most fun when a character does something beyond my imagination. It gets my adrenaline pumping.

Q. 70 What made you want to start writing My hero academia and what was your inspiration?

A. 70 I thought this would be my last attempt at having a printed story on Jump Magazine, so I started drawing with the idea of ​​drawing what I like and what I can draw as I like, with all my might, so that I would have no regrets.

Q. 71 Which character’s story did you enjoy telling the most?

A. 71 Deku and Katsuki, from the perspective of enjoying trials and difficulties. In my opinion, every scene was like walking a tightrope, and if I made even a slight mistake, the story will fall apart in an instant. But I felt a sense of accomplishment, and I’m glad I was able to draw them.

Q. 72 Does America get a new number one hero? And what would be their name and quirk?

A. 72 A new No.1 is already on the way. Agate Menou (アゲート・メノウ). Her Quirk is “Fault” (断層). She admired Stars and Stripes and became a Hero. She breaks down various barriers and inspires people.

Q. 73 After the final page of the manga, does Deku continue working at UA as a teacher like other pros?

A. 73 He’s a teacher. He also visit facilities and elementary schools all over the country, and is invited to give lectures, so he spend his days very busy.

Total number of questions: 139,608!!!

Thank you to all the readers for all the questions!!!

And thank you to Horikoshi-sensei for his answers!

[syndrossi]

How would things have been different in Resonant if Rhaenyra had been Queen instead of Viserys when Daemon went back to King's Landing in Chapters 16-18?

Hah, so this is a tricky question, because Resonant as we know it would play out very differently had Rhaenys become queen rather than Viserys. For one thing, it's unlikely that Daemon is constantly getting banished and unbanished. For another, given how important the shipping lines are to both the Crown and House Velaryon, she would have devoted plenty of resources to the Stepstones conflict to achieve victory, so that would not have dragged out nearly as long and would have likely already had a holdfast being build there to secure the area.

Rhaenys, unlike Viserys, knows much better how to wrangle Daemon and likely sets him up in a position where he can thrive and feel important, whether that's as Lord Commander of the City Watch or if she invents some position for him related to affairs of war/conflict. And she can gain a lot of loyalty/goodwill by annulling his marriage to Rhea when he asks for it, especially since both parties dislike the match.

The biggest challenge is almost Daemon staying married to Rhea long enough for the twins to be conceived/born. Perhaps Rhaenys tells Daemon to stick it out for a few more years and they'll re-evaluate once Laena is of age, if she is interested in Daemon as a match, since Rhaenys is a bit more strategic about pairing dragonriders given their dwindling number of living Targaryens. (I'm assuming that Rhaenyra gets paired with Laenor still.)

What I can almost see happening is Daemon playing as by-the-rules as he can to stay on Rhaenys's good side for the carrot of annulment+a match with Laena, which means Rhea herself is the one definitively pregnant with and birthing the twins. Does she try hiding them because she's worried that living children would mean that they don't get their annulment? I feel like the answer is no, which means things play out very different.

BUT. In a world where somehow everything remains roughly the same as Resonant except that Rhaenys is the queen during ch16-18, I assume the Stepstones are at least under Iron Throne rule and that she has a far more competent master of whisperers, so investigation into potential foreign interference with dragonseeds + war with Volantis becomes very possible/likely.

Unlike in Resonant, Jon and Rhaegar aren't princes though, in the same way that Laena and Laenor weren't prince/princess in canon despite Rhaenys herself being one. You generally have to be the king or queen's nieces or nephews for that honor, and they're only cousins, though the king/queen can also name anyone a prince/princess if they like. For similar reasons, Rhaenyra isn't a princess either!

Things get even more complicated when PTWP business comes up. I could see Rhaenys explaining to Daemon that his sons are special and in particular need of protection. I have to think that just like with Resonant!Viserys, she'd be pretty keen on a Daemon/Laena match now, though she probably handles that way more delicately. It's not framed as an order, but rather an apology/offer from the Crown for the consequences of not annulling his marriage, and the carrot there could be the boys being declared honorary princes of the realm.

Heck, I could even see Laena being the one who is sent to pick Daemon and the kids up rather than crown prince Laenor, which gives her early access to the kiddos to bond with them.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

why is it that so many people watching the original little mermaid, they almost ALWAYS side with Triton and say "yes humans dangerous must keep Ariel away from them this is reasonable"

Because, in the movie, the danger to Ariel always comes from the sea and sea creatures. Not the land. Not humans.

it NEVER shows humans as dangerous to merpeople.

Triton doesn't know that, sure- but WE the audience see them talking respectfully of the sea king as they're out sailing, we don't see them plotting to catch or hunt merpeople, we don't even see them hurting each other! One of them almost dies saving a dog! They fish, yes, the chef wants to cook a crab. And that's it. Normal, usual, eating meat behavior.

They aren't even show accidentally threatening the balance of life under the sea, no hint of over-fishing or pollution, just the occasional shipwreck that no one other than Ariel bothers with.

On top of that, the only danger even the shipwreck was to Ariel wasn't the shipwreck's fault! A shark, a SEA CREATURE, tried to eat her.

And the only threat to Ariel throughout the whole movie (shark aside) is Ursula. The SEA-witch?

Ursula, who we see spying on and plotting to use and manipulate Ariel even BEFORE Ariel met and fell in love with a human. The human thing just became the easiest way for Ursula to entrap Ariel. If it hadn't been that though, there's no reason to think Ursula wouldn't have tried something else.

Which wouldn't have been hard because Ariel ONLY goes to Ursula AFTER Triton breaks his daughter's carefully curated room full of treasures in front of her. Ursula doesn't exploit Ariel's love for a human specifically, no, she just wedges herself into the space between Triton and Ariel the moment their trust in each other starts cracking.

So why, when the only danger is from the sea, when humans aren't a threat, when Triton does things when he's angry that he's quickly shown to think better of and regret-

"Do you, er, think I - I was too hard on her?" "Oh, what have I done? What have I done...?"

Even TRITON knows he's making mistakes and not handling this well!

Why do so many people assume he's right?

In the real world a mermaid would be in danger of humans, but in THIS story, at THIS moment, they aren't. And the movie shows it.

"He must have a good reason for thinking humans are dangerous-" maybe so, but we never see it. It's not important enough to be shown. It's never backed up by the behavior of the humans his daughter meets. He calls them savage, harpooning, fish-eaters, but aside from the fish eating None Of That Is Depicted Or Even Hinted At. He's been cutting off contact with the surface for a while it seems, meaning whatever happened (cough cough ariel's mom got herself squished by some ships cough) happened long ago and has nothing to do with most if any of the humans we see now.

But still. People watching trust him to know the right thing.

I don't get. I don't get it!

Trion's worry is understandable as parent, but it's also CLEARLY shown to be aimed in the WRONG direction!

He's so on edge and furious about the surface but never warns Ariel about Ursula! Ariel gets chased by a shark and that's not what makes Triton snap! He shatters his daughter's dreams of the human world and leaves her along to sob- WHILE A SEA WITCH WHO CAN TRANSFORM PEOPLE AND IS KNOWN FOR MAKING CROOKED DEALS WITH ANYONE WHO DESPERATELY WANTS SOMETHING IS LIVING RIGHT NEXT DOOR!!

He's not being rational! Understandable, but not rational!

Gods, how can anyone watch the opening of this movie and end up thinking TRITON is the one who knows what's going on here!

I dont. I just don't get it. Hurts my brain, ow pain, ow.

[vsa-pieldepapel]

I still love your post-deltarune ralsusie hc where she lives in a truck(?) and basically spends her whole free time on the dark world with ralsei. (Though I can't find it :() How has chapter 3 and 4 affected that headcanon for you? Also, what do you think Ralsei is? kris's horns? green crayon? some other unidentified object? Not even a object and just pure darkness???

if you're struggling to filter for specific things, you can add /archive to the blog url and filter by the tag #ralsusie, it has to be there im certain. Was probably an ask, as you see, asks are how I end up rambling about different ideas... Lets get into it together anon

yeah, the whole thing was flipped over on its head, not gonna lie. Now that the writing has been emphatic on the illusory ethereal nature of Dark Worlds, including confirmation that DW food doesn't actually fill the stomach, I can't say the best end is one in which Susie stays... There is a theme that was planted since Ch.2 but has become especially resonant recently, which is escapism into idealistic fantasy worlds, and I feel like the theme being built upon here is finding fulfilment in the real, too. My gut's telling me that what is being set up here now is Susie taking Ralsei out of the darkness to bring him to the Light World, so he can live as a normal 17 year old guy without worrying about the end of the world.

I remember the unused blushy sprites from chapter 2 that, at the time, I believed toby removed because they were a little too ralsusie-y (Susie lowkey flips her shit internally in them) but now I see that the probable actual reason on top of my Pepe Silvia reason is that toby chose a much more poignant moment to reveal that Susie has blood. Does this mean that monsters in DR bleed, and are cremated to create their "dust"? or does this mean that Susie is a hybrid between a monster and a human? It's very interesting that the discoloration of the DW that she made, influenced by her subconscious, has her coloured like a white human girl with brown hair and otherwise features purple prominently. Is that reflective of this? Being a medical enigma, caught between two worlds?

the truth is, we don't yet know. But I feel like setting up the blood to appear there was purposeful because of... Pinocchio, of all things

Ever since Spamton (puppet element, strings, long nose, a trickster/deceiver/liar), we first got introduced to a general pinocchio, puppet, strings, control, reality theme. Whoever is calling the secret bosses informed spamton about a human SOUL having the power to see past the dark into the light. Is this an indication that through the power of a human soul, a Darkner can gain a body not illusory or dependent of an object or concept? And it's very interesting the way Spamton phrases it: [A Real Boy]. Very much a pinocchio phrase.

Pinoccho is about a wooden puppet of a boy, wishing to be real, a flesh and blood human child for his father Gepetto. Eventually his wish is granted through the power of morality and love for his father (and willingness to sacrifice out of love). Ralsei insists that he's not real, but through the affection and support of Susie he has become more his own person since the very instant they met and she got him to remove his cloak.

Is the Last Prophecy meant to imply Ralsei's sacrifice? I think so, at least; the way she emphasizes that ESPECIALLY Ralsei won't let that happen is probably her placing her will to live on him (most people don't want to die). If Susie is at least partially human, could she give some of her power to help him become a real boy? Could his willingness to sacrifice, and her love, be the conduit to make him Real? Is that the ultimate subversion of the Last Prophecy? I don't know. But that's what all of this has made me think about. And I am now very excited at the idea of Ralsei becoming real, not just in spirit but through the power of hope and friendship.

(Susie can still live in a van though. They can cuddle together there).

As for what object Ralsei is, I like the green crayon as a joke a lot, but I'm honestly starting to doubt if he is an object at all. There's something special about him, his endless seemingly innate knowledge of the rules of the dark worlds, his role as a prince and a hero, the fact that he was the very first Darkner Kris and Susie met and he seems to have been spawned from the grand fountain in Castle Town... I can't confirm it either way, but that seems to suggest he may be something more like pure darkness. I don't have a strong bet at the moment though.

Thank you for this ask! My passion for ralsusie has been fanned to a forest fire with the new chapters oh my godddddd

[just-xylia]

Deep dive into the Bench scene with Tomoko in P5X

So Motoha makes sure Tomoko has some time to speak to us alone after finding out Tomoko was curious about us. Yet the first thing She talks about, and the only thing she talks about is Motoha.

Tomoko, A girl who has been by Motoha’s friend for most of her life is saying that Motoha has been Selfless to the point of self negligence. The first thing Tomoko talks to us, a complete stranger, about is how worried she is about her friend. THis must have been a struggle for so long if Tomoko seems eager enough to just freely give this info to someone she barely knows. 

So, Motoha and Tomoko have a history, yes, but we see a bit more here. We see how Tomoko views herself. Her self esteem isn’t exactly the highest, especially when she compares herself to Motoha. Yes she is absolutely singing her friends praises, but to start with “Unlike me”? She lacks confidence in her own skill, which she clearly has especially when just a scene prior we learn that she is scouted for her talents. Yet even then she compares herself to Motoha. 

This line, especially this line is one I wanted to talk about. “I used to love listening to her talk about.” Goodness, that is just a whole lever of adoration and love to have to love hearing someone talk about something. Like, This is something that Motoha loves. Baseball and her dream in said sport are so so important to Motoha and Tomoko is clearly so important to her as well. Honestly all I can think about with this line is Tomoko staring at Motoha with a dreamy look as she yaps on and on about baseball. 

And there is the source of Motoha and Tomoko’s grief. This incident that caused Motoha to quit. Of course we find out about that incident later in the story but it isn’t important to this deep dive, what is important is that Motoha blamed herself for something that was in no way her fault, and she quit her dream over it. Her choice was so self-deprecating and all Tomoko can do is watch as her friend spirals downward. 

Then we have Tomoko’s new dream. Her new dream does not feel like her own at all. Tomoko had to watch one of her favorite people go from actively and excitedly chasing her dream to quitting and that must have been painful for Tomoko to watch. It seems like Tomoko cares more about Motoha than she does herself, so she’ll achieve Motoha’s dream as her own, because doing something else would feel like abandoning someone she treasures. 

Ok let's talk about this keychain. It’s very clearly mirroring the relationship between the two and how they view Motoha’s dream. Motoha gave her keychain to Tomoko as a way of saying, “I’ve given up on this dream but I know it's still so important to you. Please don’t give up for my sake.” Meanwhile Tomoko sees it as Motoha placing her dream onto Tomoko’s shoulders. Like, if she lets go of either of their dreams it will be like she is letting them both down. It seems to Tomoko that achieving Motoha’s dream became so important that she may not even know what her own wants and desires are anymore. All it has been for so long was to live for someone else's dream.

Motoha’s kindness is a parasite to her own mental health. She cares so much to the point she’ll take on other people’s pain. She will keep as much of her own struggles hidden behind a mask because a kind person isn’t selfish in her eyes, and her trying to seek any help would be selfish. Tomoko’s love (Platonic or otherwise) has always been more for those important to her than it has been for herself. Motoha and Tomoko are the closest people the other has, yet between masks hiding true pain, and chasing empty dreams that aren’t one’s own, they have become so distant from one another in a way that they are they cannot clearly see. 

This one scene has lived rent free in my head so apologies for the wordy post. In any case I hope you enjoyed my rambling.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

idk if i’m allowed to request max for more than one but max 💔🥩 please 🫣

You are!

500 for 💔:

---

“Yeah,” Buck nods. “Y-yeah, obviously. That’s why I needed to explain.”

Eddie’s head is spinning. What the fuck does he mean he doesn’t want to reject Eddie? How the hell else was Eddie supposed to possibly interpret that? Usually running away gives a pretty clear message of not wanting the thing you’re running away from. 

“Well, you have time to explain it now,” Diane suggests. 

Eddie gives her a pleading look. No. No. He doesn’t want to do this here. In front of her. All of this is already embarrassing enough.

“Sometimes it’s good to work things through with a neutral third party,” Diane tells Eddie. 

Well, it doesn’t feel like Diane is neutral. It feels like Diane is against Eddie’s agenda of keeping all this shit out of work. Which is a betrayal! Who calmed her panic? Who stabilized her ankle? Not Buck. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He’s not the one who needs to explain himself. He just shrugs. Let Buck say whatever he’s going to say. Eddie’s not promising he’s going to like it. 

“I think you should just do it before he changes his mind,” Diane whispers to Buck, as if Eddie isn’t closer to her and can’t hear her perfectly.

But, otherwise, good advice. He has until they get them out of this hell hole to talk, and after that, Eddie is going home and sleeping and forgetting anyone but himself and his son exist for as long as possible. 

Buck sighs.

“Okay, uh… I thought we’d obviously be alone for this…”

Eddie looks at the ceiling. Fuck this.

“But Eddie, I never thought there was a chance in hell that you’d feel that way about me,” Buck says. “You-you have to know that. I never thought… I mean, I’d just sort of not let myself even consider it, because how painful would that be right?”

Oh, yeah. Why doesn’t Buck just tell Eddie how painful it would be to have the person you love have zero interest in you? It’s not like Eddie has spent forty-eight hours living in that exact hell.

Eddie grits his jaw. “It’s not like I was hiding anything from you, Buck.”

“I know!” Buck says. “I know. I’m not… I know. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m saying, when… When the whole thing came up, Maddie kinda thought I probably was… What Tommy said, you know?”

Eddie’s head hurts. Why can’t he just say anything normally?

“Who are Maddie and Tommy?” Diane asks.

Really? She needs a character breakdown.

“Maddie is his sister, Tommy is his ex boyfriend,” Eddie says quickly. Keep up.

“Got it, got it,” Diane mumbles.

---

Because 🥩 is done, randomly selected 500 for:

---

He can’t take the time to think too much about the implications of Shannon being alive right now. If he does, he’ll immediately become overwhelmed. If he’s too overwhelmed, he can’t get to them. He needs to just get to them. Wondering if he’s now unintentionally committing bigamy is unproductive. 

He knocks on Josie’s door lightly before opening it. In the interest of giving Bobby privacy, they let her have some extra screen time. It was either that or subject him to more questions about being dead. That’s the last thing he needs. 

“Hi, Joze,” Eddie says. “I have to go to Christopher’s for a bit, so-”

“CHRIS?” She exclaims, tossing her bright turquoise handheld gaming console on her bed. “Can I come?”

Eddie smiles softly. She loves her big brother so much. But Chris is in no place to be big brother right now. He’s just a kid whose mom is back from the grave. 

“Not this time, kiddo,” Eddie says. “Chris needs my help right now… So you have to stay here, okay?”

She frowns. “Is he hurt?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s an adult thing, but… I’ll explain it when I’m home, okay?”

He’s not going to tell her Shannon is there if it turns out… Well, he doesn’t know. He just needs to be sure. 

She nods. “Okay, Daddy.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he tells her. “I love you.”

She smiles. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t know why, but on top of all the other things he’s worried about right now, he’s worried about his daughter. She didn’t know Bobby or Shannon, though she’s heard of them frequently enough. But how does knowing people come back from the dead impact her? She’s only seven. He doesn’t want to traumatize another kid. 

🪷

As Eddie is leaving the house, he passes by Bobby and Harry coming back in through the front door with Buck. 

Bobby looks at him, eyes creased with concern. 

“Shannon, too,” he says. Not a question. Just a statement on the reality of what’s happening. This isn’t contained to Bobby. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nods.  

“She must be very disoriented,” Bobby says empathetically. And he’d know. 

Eddie nods again. 

“She’s asking for me, apparently.”

“You’re familiar,” Bobby says. “Even in an unfamiliar world.” 

Eddie can tell Bobby means that as much for himself, as he does for Shannon. But maybe, to Bobby, it hasn’t seemed like too much has changed about Eddie. He always knew a different side to Eddie than most people. Will Shannon think the same? Probably not. 

“Better not keep them waiting,” Bobby says, when he sees Eddie thinking just a little too hard.