#(if she admits it to herself she does know that she and dean were falling apart for a long while)

[chasingwhitebunnies]

I feel a bit silly writing this because I’m sure other people must have but I’ve not seen anything about it

(SPOILERS - I’ll also tag)

I really love how we see Coriolanus’s character descent into who he becomes through each of his kills

His first kill is Bobbin. It was self-defence, kill-or-be-killed. If he hadn’t done it, he probably would have been killed himself, but this sticks with him. Coriolanus is horrified when he realises he took someone’s life. He thinks about it for a long time.

His next kill is Mayfair Lipp, the mayor’s daughter. It’s not self-defence, but he sees it that way. In a way, he’s got a point. She would have reported him, and he would have been hanged. So would Lucy Gray, so he shot her. This time, however, he had a choice. Maybe not much choice, but it was there. He chose to shoot her, but it doesn’t affect him anywhere near as much as Bobbin’s death

The third is the hardest. He doesn’t pull the trigger or tie the noose, but he might as well have. He betrays Sejanus. Sejanus who loves him like a brother. Sejanus who he has known since they were children. He made the decision in a moment and he questions himself afterwards, but he still made that choice. He reasons to himself internally that it was necessary and Sejanus was bound to get himself in trouble, anyway, right? Right? So it’s okay. But it’s not okay. The blood is on his hands and he keeps thinking of the moments they spent together before the betrayal. He benefits from his death and is rewarded for his loyalty. How ironic

Next is Lucy Gray. Possibly. For argument’s sake, let’s say he did kill her. He calls out for her, his gun slung over his shoulder. He realises how she might be scared, the gun sending the wrong message… but he doesn’t put it back. He brings it with him, not to use it, he tells himself. He would never use it, definitely not. He just… wants to talk some sense into her. As soon as the snake bites him, he abandons all pretence. Even though he admitted moments ago he understood why she would be scared, now she’s the enemy. Now she has to pay. How dare she. Not even an hour ago, he had plans to run away with her. He claimed he loved her. They were going to be together. Now, he’s chasing her through the trees with a gun in his hands and he’s screaming for her to show herself. He shoots a lot. When he thinks he finally got her, he’s pleased. It was her own fault, he tells himself, for the snake trick. Even afterwards, when he finds out that the snake wasn’t venomous - which Lucy Gray definitely would have known and therefore was only intended to slow him down - he doesn’t have a single moment of regret. The only thing he regrets is falling for her in the first place and he swears he’ll never do it again. His heart is stone. Frozen like snow.

Finally, his last kill (before the ones that take place once this book ends) is Dean Highbottom. This is the first kill that is not made in a split-second. This is premeditated. He carefully adds just enough rat poison to the morphling, sure to wear gloves, and sets his plan in motion. He has every opportunity to change his mind, to not resort to violent means. Not only does he not regret it, he feels proud. Excited, even. He hopes Dean Highbottom will know it was him that killed him

By the epilogue, Snow has gotten over (or buried deep enough) what guilt he had over Sejanus enough to use the Plinths’ grief to his advantage without any conflicting feelings. He’s convinced himself Lucy Gray was the villain who played him, when she was just a sixteen-year-old girl who was forced into a terrible situation. As we know, he goes on to directly and indirectly kill thousands between TBOSAS and THG, too many. I doubt he remembers most of them, just nameless, faceless children. He doesn’t care anymore, not like he did the first time

The whole world is his Arena. Snow lands on top until it melts

#SPOILERS THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES #SPOILERS TBOSAS #THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES SPOILERS #tbosas spoilers #(melted by fire in case my on the nose metaphor was too subtle) #tbosas #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #Dean Highbottom #casca highbottom #Mayfair lipp #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #bobbin TBOSAS #500

[dramioneasks]

Hiiii!

So I am newwww to the dramione world and unfortunately my adventure started with Manacled and was follow by The Auction. So now I am desperately searching a fic that is anywhere near as good as Manacled. I read that entireeee thing in three days because I was hooked!

I started both breathmints/battle scars and Isolation and as it turns out, asshole Draco does not do it for me, I need a bit more depth to be intrigued. (Don’t get me wrong, both lovely fics, but doesn’t have my preference)

So would you have any recommendations with a good in depth character build and a good plot?

Thaaaanks a million!!

Hi, try these:

Wait and Hope by mightbewriting - M, 12 Chapters - “Harry,” Hermione began, voice very controlled, but she could feel the blade of panic slicing at her vocal cords. “Why was Draco Malfoy just screaming bloody murder about his,” and the word almost strangled her as she said it, “wife?”  Harry's green eyes blew wide. Healer Lucas pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly displeased with the recent series of events.“He was referring to you, my dear,” she said. “That was the other question you got wrong. Your name is Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy.” Hermione had to be sedated again. [In which Hermione loses the last six year's worth of her memories, including the entirety of her relationship and marriage to Draco.]

And its prequel:

Beginning and End by mightbewriting - E, 48 Chapters - Years. Broken into months into weeks into days—into hours, minutes, seconds—into moments. Simple at one end, complex at the other. In Draco’s experience, moments, even when simple, had a habit of becoming irretrievable. Moments grew, stretched, multiplied into ages and eras that defined whole stretches of measurable time. Draco regretted several moments in his life, some within his control, some without: all of them irretrievable in nature. At a certain point, wedged between ‘what-ifs’ of his own devising, he’d stopped trying to keep track of those regrettable moments: now and then, pushing and pulling, coming and going, beginning and end. Moments were only moments for just as long. After that, he had no control. [In which Draco is forced to work with Hermione, falls in love, makes many mistakes, and eventually becomes his own man. A Draco POV prequel to Wait and Hope.]

The Politician's Wife by pir8fancier - M, 14 Chapters - This story is set twenty-three years after the fall of Voldemort. Our main characters are Ministry employees, middle-aged, and the majority of them not very happy.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - M, 29 Chapters - It’s not until she’s brought a basil and strawberry sponge cake to Neville Longbottom and his new girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, a dozen rhubarb hand-pies to Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood, and another basket of ganache-covered muffins to Dean and Seamus, that Hermione admits to herself what she’s actually doing: she’s making a thing of this. It’s a veritable PTSD tour. With pastries. And hand-skimmed clotted cream. And she has no idea why she’s doing it, but it’s becoming very apparent that she is. Sometimes you're sad. Sometimes you need dessert. And sometimes, it's a little of both.

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22 - E, 42 Chapters -To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they're capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man.

Traditions by raven_maiden - E, 14 Chapters - She straddled him slowly, still biting her lip, her hands on his shoulders. He held her hips tightly as he stared up at her.“So beautiful,” he whispered, and she flushed prettily, like she always did from his compliments. “You never need to hide from me.” ** Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love during the war. One year later, they're heading home for the holidays so he can finally meet her parents. There's just one teeny little problem: her parents think they're both Muggles.

Love and Other Misfortunes by senlinyu - M, 23 Chapters - Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most.“Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.”

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19 - E, 51 Chapters - How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore?

The Eagle's Nest by HeartOfAspen - M, 71 Chapters - Hermione's eighth year at Hogwarts is already going to be difficult in the aftermath of the war, but is further thrown into upheaval when Headmistress McGonagall orders a re-sorting of all students to promote inter-house unity. But when the Sorting Hat sends Hermione to Ravenclaw with Draco - and without Harry or Ron - how will she cope? [Epilogue? What epilogue?] Prevalent alchemy.

Gravity by floorcoaster - T, 10 Chapters - It's about arranging stacks of books, wall colours, and jumping off a cliff. Draco/Hermione

The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man by ianthewaiting - E, 28 Chapters - Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible.

Don't Take This Sinner by hexmionegranger - E, 25 Chapters - Hermione Granger couldn’t help but think that no matter how difficult they had all figured rebuilding their society would be, no one was expecting anything quite like this. It was another stark reminder that just when things were finally starting to level out, they would never truly have peace and stability. Her entire life in the magical world had been full of shocks and stumbles, and this one seemed like the biggest of them all. A post-war Dramione marriage law fic... with a twist!

Seven Days in April by inadaze22 - M, 7 Chapters - They were still the same people with the same problems on either side of a bathroom door.

He Becomes by Abroma - T, one-shot - Things keep worming their way into Draco's heart and, to be honest, he's sick of it. Or: Draco fosters bunnies to impress a co-worker.

Aurelian by BittyBlueEyes - T, 43 Chapters - Two years after the war, a young stranger pays a visit to the burrow. His arrival alone is baffling, but the news he brings of an upcoming war turns the world upside down. Hermione's quiet, post-war life will never be the same.

Revert by SUPRNTRAL LVR - M, 25 Chapters - Six months post-war, Malfoy is in serious trouble. He's on the run from the Ministry, Death Eaters, and a deadly curse which is eating him alive. When he hits rock bottom, a change in fortune lands him in 12 Grimmauld Place under the Ministry's custody - and forces Hermione to remember the secrets they've both kept for years. Dramione, Sick!Draco, flashbacks to Hogwarts

Heavy Lies the Crown by floorcoaster - M, 36 Chapters - For seven years, Draco has carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and just when he thinks he'll be released, something happens that will make him seek help from the last person he could have imagined.

- AgnMag

#kieks-cx #draco: redeemed

[gold-onthe-inside]

I think the thing that makes it the hardest for me to laugh about the "deviled-egging Jess's car" thing is the way it feels kind of like a slap in the face when I think about the end of Season 2. Like, the accident was this traumatic event that Rory and Jess went through TOGETHER, for which Jess felt so guilty that he left town, and Rory was the only one who stuck up for him, vehemently insisting to anyone who would listen that it wasn't Jess's fault, and fighting with her mother to defend him... She and Luke were the ONLY ONES who would stand by him! But now? Lorelai and Lane have decided that Jess doesn't "deserve" to have a car because he crashed Rory's, and Rory? Despite genuinely not caring about the car (she tried to talk Lane down at first), Rory is now gleefully aligning herself with the ranks of Townfolk Against Jess, because he's dating someone else. I know the show wants us to think it's funny, but it feels like a betrayal of the relationship they set up in the previous season, and it just makes me sad!

god, you’re so right. i mean, you’ve got a whole season where rory’s the first person who really believes in jess’s potential and actually communicates it to him. like sure, luke has faith in him too, but they’re both such terrible communicators. plus you have the whole town treating rory like she’s some naive little princess falling prey to the big bad wolf even though she’s the one who initiates everything in their relationship. she asks him to drive the car, she tells him to keep going instead of going back to the diner, she runs to new york to see him, she’s the one who kisses him and to have everyone, especially lorelai, blaming this bookish, magic-obsessed dork for “breaking” her daughter? to have taylor doose who knows nothing about the boy call him a walking disaster waiting to happen?

and like, you can’t even really blame rory for expecting jess to wait around for her because dean would have done that. and i know people give her shit for comparing jess and dean but like, that’s her first relationship ever. dean’s the standard and i don’t think she fully realises how toxic he was to her. and lorelai, who should really know better, encourages that standard. she just doesn’t expect to be treated any differently by jess and she definitely doesn’t realise that actually, she’s the jerk in this scenario, not until their argument in doose’s.

and for someone who’s entire life is about making up for the fact that she wasn’t an intentional child (consciously or unconsciously), i don’t think she wants to admit the fact that she’s in the wrong here. it’s definitely unconscious, but it’s there and it’s a pattern later on too where she does immoral things and justifies herself by pushing the blame on someone else. it’s also a trait you see in lorelai so you can see where she might have learned it from. to a certain extent, you can’t really fault rory for being immature, i mean, she’s like 16-17 and girls that age can be really self-centred.

but really, if you ask me, the fault is with lorelai. because she’s a 20-30 something year old woman devil egging a teenager’s car because her ex-boyfriend and baby daddy had another child. and then rubbing it in his face after. lorelai’s the one who should’ve stopped it. and i think that’s the crux of the issue with the whole my mom is my best friend thing. cause lorelai doesn’t know when it’s time to be a mom and when it’s time to be a best friend. it’s also what amuses me about her relationship with mrs kim because as a fellow immigrant, i too would be so completely weirded out by her.

and as for lane, omg they wasted such a huge opportunity to have her and jess be, maybe not friends, but at least a little close. like, lane canonically doesn’t have a lot of friends in school and jess is very particular about who he wants to hang around with. plus, being a new yorker, he can handle the racial diversity a lot better than a tiny town in connecticut. so they could’ve absolutely fleshed that relationship out. not to mention, they had a whole summer where they could’ve gotten along. lane could’ve been the one to reassure rory, to tell her that jess and shane are just a summer fling. it just could’ve been dealt with so much better, especially considering lane knew all the details of what happened and rory repeatedly told her the crash wasn’t jess’s fault.

as for the betrayal part, i do have to agree with you. i mean, i honestly don’t know what rory expected him to do. and i just keep thinking about ‘the girls that i like don’t give a damn about me’ and i wonder how long he waited. he’s in a town where no-one likes him and the one reason he came back just left to go to washington dc and he’s not gonna hold her back because he did promise she’d be the next christiane amanpour. and i wonder when he gave up on waiting. cause, again, he’s not the guy that initiates things. so even with shane and jess, i doubt he’s the one that started it. like even if you watch their scenes together, he’s never the one to start the kiss. and, by the way, rory makes no contact with jess whatsoever even when she does come back. she pretty much acts like the kiss never happened, and it’s not like she breaks up with dean (which imo she should’ve done before she left). so yeah, i’d be pretty goddamn hurt too.

if i could take a crack at that arc, i’d definitely add a little jess/lane being friends and luke maybe not being so up on jess for working at walmart. in fact, i’m surprised he isn’t more concerned about it. like i don’t know if it’s an american thing, but i’d be worried if my kid thought he needed to work at walmart to pay for a car. it also worries me how luke doesn’t know where he is half the time and how long he lets the walmart thing go on. but that’s for a different rant at a different time.

#stellaluna33 #gilmore girls #jess mariano #rory gilmore #lane kim #lorelai gilmore

[hekate1308]

Leaves That Before The Wild Hurricane Fly, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 14

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

They did not stay alone for long. It quickly transpired that Crowley dropped in at all times, mostly just for a few minutes, just to chat, before disappearing (literally) again.

“What does he do for a living, anyway?” Castiel eventually asked.

“Well, Crowley…” Dean appeared stumped for a moment then said, “This and that. A little bit of everything. He can explain that better than I can, though.”

He doubted that, since he didn’t think Crowley would be very forthcoming, but had to contend with the answer.

It wasn’t just Crowley though. Apart from the customers – a few new ones and some regulars, all of which were nice enough and greeted Castiel enthusiastically – there was Charlie, who triumphally carried in a potted plant “She had rescued from a ship window in another part of town”, Andrea, who wanted to ask Dean’s opinion on a business proposal once of her clients had made (and, despite Dean’s protestations that He just had a shop, it turned out he as clever and insightful, something Castiel would have been ready to bet on without proof) and of course Sam and Eileen,who dropped in to have lunch with them.

“And Cas, how do you like Winter Wonderland?” Sam asked him when they had all sat down at a diner near the shop – and that Cas only realized Benny owned when the vampire came out of the kitchen to greet them, drawing Dean into a brief hug.

“So I might have gone overboard again, so what” Dean shrugged. “I like it.”

“It is very… festive” he replied calmly.

Eileen laughed and made some signs that had Dean blushing for once (and what an enchanting sight it was). He then mumbled something about it being “impolite because Cas doesn’t know sign language” and since no one translated for him, they left it at that.

“I didn’t think your business would be quite so large” Castiel admitted, “I didn’t think –“

“Yeah well, I have been here for a few years now, so I’ve established myself,.”

“Also helps that Dean’s the best in the business” Sam said. “Had any customers for something else yet?”

“Nah, so far, it’s only been flowers”.

He nodded, and Castiel remembered that there were other things Dean sold. Well, if he got lucky…

And he did.

So after they had returned form lunch, the bell rang out again and a young woman entered the shop, shyly looking around.

“Ah” Dean said quietly, then told Castiel under his breath, “Watch. First time, I bet, and unhappy.”

She was, and not only that, but also very unsure of herself, trying to speak several times and eventually falling silent until Dean prompted, “What is it, Miss?”

She swallowed. “I understand that – I earn – you sell…”

“Certain things, yes” Dean replied. “And I assume you want one of them?”

He made a small motion with his hand only Castiel could see; after a moment or two, he realized he had been drawing a cartoon heart.

He was right of course because this was Dean they were talking about. She was in love, and was wondering if there was anything to “Help her chances” because he was the “most perfect man in college”.

Didn’t he know that feeling, he thought before he could help himself, glancing at Dean, then berating himself. He and Dean were business partners in a sense, nothing more.

“Ah” Dean said dramatically, “Of course I have something. Don’t forget, this is mostly about yourself – you cannot influence hearts, but you can give yourself a better chance.”

“How?” she brightened up.

He drew out a small sack from underneath the counter. “This is the” he told her conspirationally, “You drink it in the morning and it will make you more confident. HE will have no choice but notice you when you approach him.”

She thanked him profusely and paid the small sum Dean named.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, he said, “It’s nothing of course. Just normal herbal tea.”

“But then why –

“Because now she believes that it’s something, and that’s all she needs. If it doesn’t work out it doesn’t, but believe me, confidence is key.”

“Might explain why my partner left me, then” Castiel tried to say lightly, but it came across as far more somber than he had meant it to.

Dean winced. “Ah. Sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. In truth, I hadn’t been happy in a long time.” Only the last few days, when he finally felt like he could breathe again, had he realized that that was how it had been, but that didn’t mean it any less true.

“Oh, alright then.” Dean smiled and winked. “But if you need me to beat him up, just tell me…”

“No, no it’s alright” he said quickly, not giving into the temptation.

#my writings #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #advent calendar

[magravenwrites]

The Ugly Duckling - Part 1:

Sihtric x OC

This was written for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie follower challenge - I am so so sorry its stupidly late! I hope you like it!

Also a huge thanks to @axe-does-writing for beta reading this for me 💕

Warnings: bullying, name-calling, mentions of fighting, themes surrounding 'the ugly duckling' story. Let me know if I've missed any!

Click on the moodboard to see it in better quality.

"Your hair is so messy."

"Your eyes are such a dirty colour."

"I've seen pigs prettier than you."

"No one will ever love you."

"At least Ma and Pa will have someone to look after them in their old age."

"You know Pa says you can't be his daughter.  You look nothing like the rest of us."

Her sister's torments swirled through her mind, the taunts repeating themselves over and over.

Sobs wracked the young girl's body, tears streaking her dirty face, leaving it red and blotchy.  Using the sleeve of her ragged hand-me-down shirt, she wiped away the tears, only for fresh ones to quickly replace them.

"Are you alright?" A voice asked, from only a few feet away from her.

A sharp gasp escaped the girl as she realised the voice was talking to her.  This was her hiding spot.  She didn't think anyone would find her here, tucked away between old crates behind the barn. 

Lifting her head, her eyes landed on a lanky boy, who looked to be about her own age.  He had rather pointed features, almost rat-like in appearance.  His dark hair was pulled back into a hair tie, a Mjolnir pendant hung from a string around his neck, and a dagger in its sheath was strapped to his belt about his waist.  His eyes, looking to be full of concern, were staring right back at her, making her feel exposed.

She scrambled to find the kitchen knife she had stolen, pointing it threateningly at the boy in front of her.

"Go away!"  She growled.  She might have sounded threatening if her voice wasn't still shaking with the aftermath of her sobs.

The boy merely looked between the knife and her, seemingly deciding she wasn't posing any real danger when he took a couple of steps closer to her.

"Have you been crying?"  He asked instead.

"So what if I have? Are you going to laugh at me too?"  She snapped.  She didn't need anyone else picking on her today.  She got enough of it at home.

"Why would I laugh at you?" His face scrunched up in confusion.

She avoided his eyes, giving a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders. 

"Everyone else does."  

The boy watched as her hand clenched around the knife still in her grasp as a wave of bitter anger crept through her.  

Resolved not to leave until he had gotten to the bottom of the girls crying, the boy sighed frustratedly.

"Look, would you put the knife down?  I only want to help.  Besides, I could disarm you in two moves anyway; you’re holding it all wrong."

She clenched her jaw and heaved a sigh through her nose, knowing he was right.  She weighed the knife in her hand for a moment, before casually throwing it onto the crate next to her, out of the way.  

Her eyes averted to her now empty hands resting in her lap, picking at her fingernails.  Now without her weapon, she felt exposed, weak, defenceless.   Now that her anger had burnt out, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself.

She sensed the boy carefully shuffling toward her, moving slowly, as if to not startle a frightened animal, eventually coming to sit on the crate beside her.  

He bowed his head to try and catch her gaze, but she stubbornly refused.

"Why were you crying?"  He asked gently.

"They were laughing at me." She whispered.  To say it louder felt like she was admitting she was too weak.  

Her fingers started to pick at her nails a little more forcefully as she tried to prevent the tears that were burning her eyes from falling once more.

She startled slightly but didn't move away when the boy reached over and took one of her hands in his own.  It had been so long since someone had shown her any form of kindness.  It felt to foreign to her, she couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

"Who was laughing at you?"

"My sisters and half of Dunholm."  She replied, studying how his hand seemed to fit perfectly in hers.

"And why would they be laughing at you?"  

She gained her courage, looking up to meet his eyes.  She wanted to be sure he wouldn't laugh at her too, she so desperately wanted to trust him, to confide in him.  

A small gasp left her lips when she found his gaze.  How had she not noticed before?  One of his eyes was a beautiful shade of deep brown, while the other was the most wonderful shade of green.  It was absolutely fascinating.  

She was also taken aback by the intense concern that was reflected in his gaze.  It was then she knew - that she felt, she could trust him, that she could tell him anything.

"Because they always do."  She explained. 

"I'm chubby, I have dirty green eyes and weird red hair that never does what I want it to. My sisters are so pretty with their blond hair and blue eyes and slim figures.  They call me names and laugh at me.  Tell me how no one would ever love me or want to marry me and that I'll be alone forever… I know it sounds stupid, but it hurts.  I just feel so different from the rest of my family."  She sniffed, using her spare hand to swipe away at the few tears that had escaped.

"It doesn't sound stupid.  Not to me."  He gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Your family are idiots.  You know I have been picked on because of my eyes?  When I was born, one of the slaves my mother worked with told her that I was possessed by the devil because my eyes were different colours.  Told her my mother she would be risking damnation if she kept me.  Not to mention I've been picked on because I'm a bastard."  

"I'm sorry, you don't deserve that.  You can't help who you are."  She sympathised.

"...And for the record - I think you have really nice eyes."  She blushed.

"Sorry, that sounded weird-"  She stuttered embarrassed, why didn't she think before speaking?

"Don't be, it's fine."  He laughed. 

"You have nice eyes too.  Green like the fresh grass in the fields first thing in the morning.  They aren't dirty like your sister's say they are." 

"Thank you."  She muttered, looking away to hide the blush rising in her cheeks.  She hadn't realised he had studied her that closely.  

It was then that she realised she was still holding his hand.  She gently pulled it away from him, back into her own lap, savouring how her hand was still warmed by his own.

"What's your name?"  She asked to distract herself.

"I am Sihtric."  He replied.

"You're Kjartan's bastard?" She asked curiously.  She had always imagined any son of Kjartans would be a bully like Sven.  But here was Sihtric, kind and gentle; the complete opposite of his cruel father.

"I am Sihtric, and yes, I am Kjartan's bastard son.  Though I don't take pleasure in the fact.  What is your name?"

"Elsef.  Elsef Larcensdottir."

"Elsef." Sihtric murmured, trying the name on his tongue.  

She liked the way her name sounded when he said it.

"Do your parents not stop your sister's torments?"  Sihtric asked carefully.

"No.  My father couldn't care less.  We are all daughters, not sons, so we are disappointments anyway.  My three older sisters all take after my mother so she tells him they will all make good matches, marry well and they will have money… Whereas me… I don't take after either of my parents.  It is rumoured my mother betrayed my father, and I was the consequence.  As such I have been deemed to be ugly and unwanted, therefore I'm destined to be my parents' keeper when they grow old.  Either way, no one stops the teasing, they'd rather join in."

"I know what that feels like - to be picked on, laughed at and beaten.  They'll never stop talking about people like us.  It's why I keep to the background.  I have learnt to listen and use what I learn to my advantage."  He said. "I'm learning to fight too."  He added.  "I managed to put Sven on his arse the other day, since then the other boys have been more careful what they say in front of me.  If you stand up for yourself, they'll stop picking on you as much.  You need to learn to ignore what they say, their opinion doesn't matter.  Never let them see how much it hurts you.  Like you said - you can't help who you are.  So don't apologise for it."  He stated, with almost a proud set to his shoulders.  It was the small victories that counted in their positions.  He made it sound so easy.

Elsef watched as he leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he thought.  There was something, perhaps a painful memory playing behind his eyes.  Maybe he already knew it wasn't an easy road to get to where he was now.

"It's all very well you telling me to keep to the background, unnoticed, but when you have bright red untameable hair like mine, you tend to stick out.  Not to mention I can't really hide at home, plus I don't know how to fight."  She argued.

He licked his lips as he considered his next words.  He moved so that he sat up facing her once more, tilting his head to peer at her.

"You know, I like your hair.  It's wild and untamed and bright like fire.  Fire is a symbol of strength, and I think there is a strength in you no one has seen yet."  He assessed her.  

Elsef merely blinked at him, dumbfounded. She felt her heart pound at his words, unable to comprehend any form of reply.  How was he able to see a strength in her that she couldn't see herself?

He seemed too wise for a boy of twelve - If his age was the same as hers as she had guessed. Though when in a position like his, it was unsurprising that he had to grow up so fast.  Too fast.  

"I could teach you to fight, stand up for yourself.  How to wield that knife properly.  I can help you fight them, but you need to show them that you won't be pushed around anymore."  He continued when she failed to say anything in response.

"But I'm a girl." 

Sihtric scoffed at her weak excuse.

"So?  Become a shieldmaiden."

She bit her lip, turning it over in her mind for a while.

"It would have to be in secret, no one can find out until I can at least hold my own."

"That's fine by me.  I'll help protect you until you can put them on their arses by yourself."  He grinned.

Elsef laughed, liking the image she imagined of her finally beating her tormentors.  Of being free.

"Here - I have something for you,"  Sihtric said, reaching into a pouch on his belt.

"I was going to give it to my mother, but I want you to have it."  He continued, pulling out a beautiful long white feather and handing it to her.

Elsef gently took it from his grasp, lightly twirling it between her fingers.

"It is beautiful, thank you Sihtric."

"It is a swan's feather.  They are strong birds, very graceful to watch, but they are more than capable of breaking your arm if you get too close.  I have always found their young to be slightly ugly - grey and nothing special, but when they grow - they become the most beautiful of creatures."  He explained, watching as a small smile graced her face at his story.

"I shall keep it always.  As a reminder that I can grow into a strong and beautiful woman one day."

Standing from the crates, ready to go ahead, finally feeling able to keep her head held high.

"One day, we'll escape this place.  We'll leave Dunholm - together."  She promised him.

Sihtric smiled at her as he climbed to his feet to join her.  He reached over to pick up her discarded knife, twirling it in his hand.

"You won't leave me will you?"  She asked, uncertainly, as he turned to face her.

His shining mismatched eyes stared at her own, unwavering.

"Never."  He handed her knife back to her.

--------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed it! Find Part 2 here

Tags:

@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @axe-does-writing @morosemagick @emilyhufflepufftlk @solinarimoon @evelyn-shelby @lauwrite1225 @ragsweas

#the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x oc #finan #osferth #The Ugly Duckling

[saturnsummer]

oh, how we’ve grown.

prompted by an anon from my ask here! 

notes: this was probably the fic that stumped me on so many occasions, since it was really bittersweet. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! it took me longer than expected and i’m not sure if everyone would be able to catch on how i interpreted the group’s futures and personalities! if anyone would like to know more, do dm me! as always, enjoy and thank you for the support and love!

original prompt: I think Joon Hwi and Sol A was already dating during their 3L (since Sol A looked so comfortable acting flirty and cute aroud Joon Hwi on their way to the old man's trial). Now I wonder what happen with them during time skip and by the ending, what stage of relationship they are in. Can you write a fic or headcanon ab that? Thank you! 🥰

words: 4373 words

it was finally the day of graduation.

joon hwi was beyond excited. he was nostalgic, sad and emotional, for sure. but after crying so many tears yesterday and the past week, he found it useless to cry any further. he lets the adrenaline set in for his new chapter lying ahead.

joon hwi was finally going to be a prosecutor.

his letter came in a few weeks after the bar exam. he counts himself lucky, being one of the students that helped to capture assemblyman ko, solve his uncle's murder, prove his professor's and his own innocence. all in his first year. it was no surprise that when he applied, they immediately wanted him. his grades were just the cherry on top to his stack of achievements. he was certainly overqualified for a guy who just passed the bar.

(well, he did pass the second round judicial exam.)

further than that, he was crowned valedictorian and was tasked to give a speech to his fellow batch mates. he had practiced his speech countless times, and he could recite it in his sleep by now. but he can’t quite place the feeling that he feels. his thoughts are all over and he can’t seem to keep his heart rate constant.

a knock on the door of his now empty dorm room distracts him from his thoughts. there, dressed in similar graduation robes, with long wavy brown hair is kang sol a, or to him, his kang sol. she walks in with a small smile on her face, but her smile fades away to a face of concern after studying his face. her eyes dart to the door, and she strides back to shut the door, giving him and her the privacy that he needs.

"what's troubling you?" she asks gently, taking his hand into hers. a quiet, simple gesture done by sol could soothe him so much. joon hwi is silent, not knowing why he’s so nervous. he’s done speeches and talked to crowds bigger than this. heck, he has testified for court. yet, the knot in his stomach refuses to cease.

“i don’t know… it’s nothing new, yet…” he trails off, avoiding his eyes with his girlfriend. his thoughts race through his head, but it leads back to his uncle, his samchoon, the man that brought him up: seo byungju.

“joon. joon, look at me.” sol brings a hand up to his cheek, gently raising it so it meets her eyes rather than the floor. joon hwi promised he wouldn’t be emotional today, yet he found his eyes glassy when he met sol’s eyes. as a tear slips, her fingers wipe it away gently.

“your uncle… he would be so proud of you to see the boy he raised achieve his dream.” sol says, a voice so quiet and soft, it seems to echo to joon hwi. she always knew what to say and always knew what was troubling him deep down, even if he denied it.

samchoon… are you proud of me?

“i’ll always be supporting you, like how your uncle did. when you’re on stage, if you feel intimidated, just look at my eyes, alright?” sol says, rubbing his cheek. he gives a small smile and nods slowly. taking his hand, sol intertwines it between her fingers, an action that he knows she only does when they are alone. an act so simple, yet his heart was so soothed by then.

joon hwi’s free hand reaches to the back of her head, as he lowers his slightly, so their forehead rest against each other. he breathes her perfume in, the one he bought for her a few months into their relationship, the one that she always wanted but could never buy. he takes slow breathes with her, her thumb rubbing his knuckle gently.

sol pulls away, much to joon hwi’s disappointment. he wanted her skin ship even more, just savouring her touch under his skin. sol notices his disappointment and only gives him a smile.

“they’re waiting for us. come, let’s go.” sol says softly, letting go of his hand after giving him a squeeze. he knows she hates being affectionate in public, even in front of their close friends. he gives her a quick peck on the top of her head before following behind her, walking to the lobby where they were.

“yah, hyung!” bokgi waved with enthusiasm, gathering the attention of the group. joonhwi maintains his composure and lets out a deep breath.

“nervous, hyung?” yebeom asks, his fingers fiddling.

“tch, it’s me. i’ll be fine.” joon hwi replies. it’s a half truth, now that sol is by his side.

“that’s why sol-noona had to find you, right?” bokgi teases, earning a nudge from yeseul. bokgi looks in mocked offence, but he recovers. everyone eyes at sol with prying eyes, the look of teasing on their faces. she takes this moment to shut her eyes, bring her hands up to face and shakes her head while sighing. these kids have literally nothing better to do than to just tease her and joon hwi.

“it’s time. you should go.” jiho says as he nods towards the lecture hall. the ceremony doesn’t start till half an hour later, but being valedictorian, he had preparations to do. they send joon hwi their last words of encouragement, but joon hwi was not going to leave unless he embarrassed his girlfriend a little longer.

his hand reaches up to sol’s hair, sweeping the curls behind her and cutely arranging her fringe the way she likes it. sol blushes as the group ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in front of them. joon hwi knows she hates being so affectionate in front of her friends, but it’s always fun to tease. sol’s bright red and her face forms the smallest pout. joon hwi knows he’s achieved his mission.

“i’ll see you later.” he says with a wink and walks away, hearing the tease from yebeom and sol squeaking back.

when he’s on stage later, giving his speech, the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. but the only thing that changes is that his eyes are fixed on the warm brown eyes of sol. as he addresses his late uncle at the end, he pauses and takes a deep breath. sol looks at him and gives him an encouraging nod. he ends his speech, eyes never once leaving her gaze, as the student body claps for him and he takes a bow.

one by one, the students are told to line up and take their certificates on stage from dean oh. she gives the seven graduates a knowing smile when they step on stage, knowing how much they’ve been through, after being swept up by their problems in their first and second years. even after all that, they managed to graduate with excellent results.

when they gather to take their photos (taken by seungjae, who decided to attend their graduation. it was the least he could do to show his support.), joon hwi swears he sees his uncle standing at the rock by the entrance of the school. he swears he sees the knowing silhouette of the tall man, grey hair and his metal spectacles. but what warms him the most is the smile of seo byung ju’s face and the slight nod.

yes, my boy. i’m so proud of you.

with that, joon hwi lets himself smile as seungjae snaps the camera.

(he doesn’t notice his blurred vision from his tears, but rather blames it on the sun hurting his eyes.)

-----

the group takes individual shots of themselves, even jiho and sol b are smiling when their photos are taken. sol doesn’t lose a chance to tease her roomie about her cute smile, one she only reserved for limited situations.

joon hwi watches as his friends spread out across the field to meet their family, sharing the good news of graduation and their new starting jobs. the smiles on the parent’s faces warms his heart deeply, somehow, even though he’s standing alone.

jiho was going to be a prosecutor with joon hwi in their new office. jiho could care less about joon hwi, but he can’t help but admit that it comforted him knowing a familiar face to be in his office in about two weeks. after all, they did share a room for three years.

sol b, against her mother’s wishes, has decided to take a gap year. her mother initially planned for her to continue her training, securing her route to being a judge. but sol b has had enough of her mother’s toxicity. as they went through therapy as a family, sol b had expressed as best as she could her need to discover what she wants for herself, not what her mother wants for her. what she will be doing in her gap year is still undecided, but she has chosen to move out for the time being.

yeseul was going to be in a firm that mostly did cases of women rights. while she initially was hesitant, bokgi encouraged her to take this opportunity, using her experience and her trial as a voice to the other victims. from time to time, she promised professor kim that she would come back to help at the legal clinic.

bokgi, on the other hand, had finally achieved his dream of being a human rights lawyer. while he was upset that he couldn’t work near yeseul, his spirits were immediately lifted when he heard that yebeom was going to be working just at the building across from him, another big law firm. (it was settled that as much as they went through, the bok-beom duo was never to be separated.)

sol, on the other hand, accepted her first job at attorney park’s firm, ironically. just when she had her first internship, she remembers screaming that she would never work with crooked lawyers like him. sol chose to work with him, as a return of the many favours she owes professor yang, starting with the one from high school. it was the most she could do for her role model.

joon hwi observes as he notices the proud faces of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and spots the few sightings of grandparents. somehow, he can’t help but feel a little lonely. his parents, the two individuals he had a short-lived relationship with had long passed. his uncle, the closest thing he had to a father had too passed. he can’t even guess where his aunts or other distant relatives are. his distant relatives probably don’t remember him, and neither does joon hwi.

a small body crashing into him breaks his flow of thoughts, as he looks down to see who it is. byeol wraps her arms around joon hwi’s waist happily and joon hwi breaks into laughter, realising who it is and lifting her before spinning her. she’s giggling in a mess as joon hwi spots sol’s mother and her walking to them.

“ah, hello, mrs kang.” joon hoi greets with formality. sol’s mother playfully smacks his arm with a smile, clearly embarrassed from such formality.

“ah! how many times have i said to not call me that, joon hwi-ah! at this point, you should just call me halmeoni!” she says, earning a big laugh from joon hwi and sol’s face burning with embarrassment.

“umma! don’t say things like this!” sol squeaks back. joon hwi only smiles and insists to call her ‘mrs kang’. byeol is getting introduced to their friends as bokgi and yebeom play a game of tag with her. sol’s mother stands by sol, her hand on her back and her other rubbing joon hwi’s back.

“joon hwi-ah, i hope you know how proud i am of you. sol has told me your own fair share of troubles. i know... you don’t have much of a mother figure in your life, but as your girlfriend’s mother, i hope you know i treat you like my own.” sol’s mother comments to him, holding both his hands in her warm ones. “more than just tutoring my daughter and helping her, you got through your troubles on your own.” joon hwi can only smile as he suppresses the emotions.

“your parents must be so glad to have such a righteous son.”

joon hwi, for a moment, is reminded of his limited memories with his parents. he doesn't remember much, being so young when they died. but how his mother would teach him the importance of kindness and compassion. his father would teach him to be strong, to stand up for the bullies that picked on the poorer kids in his preschool.

hearing his girlfriend’s mother tell him that, he couldn’t help but just pull her into a warm hug. sol joins in from behind, enveloping them with a warm that joon hwi was unable to explain. burying his face into the older woman’s hair, he lets himself be a child, as she rubs his back and holds him lovingly.

for the first time in his life, he finally experiences the warmth of a mother’s hug.

-----

as the field starts clearing out, the seven graduates and seungjae are left behind. their families have gone home, leaving them on the field, laid down in a circle, heads together. there was just silence, as they breathed in the air of hankuk university once more.

once more, as students.

once more, as graduates.

once more, before they step into their next phase.

“i’ll really miss you guys.” sol says quietly. yeseul, lying next to her, nods, although no one can see.

“we’ll meet up. especially you, seungjae-hyung! don’t be shy to ask for babysitters!” bokgi announces, earning a smile from seungjae. they slowly got up from the grass, dusting off the dirt and making their way back once more to the university lobby.

this was the place where these eight students met, all with different objectives and from all walks of life. yet, as different as they are, they got along and went through hell together, for each other. the short lived three years were filled with so many troubles, yet they pulled through together.

truly, they were more than friends. they were family.

seungjae took his leave first, being the family man he was. yebeom had to rush to a family event, and yeseul was going to catch a meal with bokgi. (yeseul promised bokgi to give him a chance once they graduated, and so she kept her promise.) jiho and solb were silently headed off in the same direction with their only conversation being “i’ll drop you off” by jiho and solb nodding. (joon hwi and sol only eye them, making mental notes to tease their ex-roommates.)

“are you going home?” joon hwi asks as sol grabs her bag. after graduating, sol made the decision to move home for the time being, to pay off her loans and support her family and ease her mother of some financial burden. joon hwi has opted many times to help, even wanting to pay off her loans. he had no loans, and after he sold his uncle’s mansion, he had a huge sum of money along with the inheritance. but sol couldn’t do it, she needed to work for this herself.

“yeah. i promised byeol i’ll help her with her work and catch a movie with her too. it’s been long since i could just spend time with her.” sol says. the lobby was now empty, with a few students walking in and out. sol looks at the lady justice statue, almost reminded of the many times she stared at it to remind herself of why she chose law. why she chose this profession.

together, they walk out, holding hands for the first time openly in their school. they were no longer students, and there was no point hiding from others anymore. she was just kang sol; he was just han joon hwi. no more ‘second round judicial pass’, no more ‘uncle killing nephew’, no more ‘klutz’, no more ‘twin failure’. just them.

joon hwi takes the bus to sol’s home, still in the ground floor apartment by an alley. sol’s mother invites him in, but he quickly declines, saying he needs to run some errands back at his own apartment. well, it wasn’t a lie. he just shifted in and he certainly had to clean and unpack.

when the apartment is packed with law books stacked neatly in his bookcase, the floor dusted and mopped, furniture clean and the fridge stocked with fresh groceries, he picks his phone to find seungjae sending the group their photos. there’s numerous comments on how yebeom is already missing us, and even jiho gives a ‘tch’ as a reply in the chat. he notices an unread text from his professor and opens the chat box.

you’re on my speed dial for cases. don’t ignore me.

joon hwi scoffs. he sets his phone aside as he flops back on his bed, for the first time processing all that has happened.

he can’t wait for the future.

(on his wall, he hangs a childhood photo of him and his uncle. on the frame, it has a tag with his daily reminder to judge fairly, and to make sure no one suffers unjustly.)

-----

the next few years for joonhwi are an adventure. his experience in the prosecution office is busy and stressful, but with jiho working just next door, he finds comfort in having him by his side. he battles many cases, slowly but surely, making a name for himself. instead of being known as the man that solved his uncle’s murder, he was now known as the prosecutor that never loses.

the study group kept in touch, meeting every two weeks for dinner at a barbecue place. somedays, they drank. on others, they just chatted and kept the plates of pork coming. seungjae did his best to join, but with his toddler kid, things were difficult.

seungjae took a year after his hearing to be with his wife, and take care of her during her pregnancy. he then decided to work as a forensic examiner. if he couldn't practice law and help people with it, the least he could was to uphold it and enforce it. his job was new and interesting, but he humbled himself to push through his training. he meets the group when they are dealing with criminal cases and helps them out as best he can.

the study group also took turns meeting his kid, and would always love babysitting. sol, as expected, was the best with chaotic duo bokgi and yebeom. instead of dinners some nights, they met at his house to catch up with him and spoil his kid. (seungjae couldn’t stop it. when the kid was born, he immediately gained 7 new aunts and uncles, ready to spoil and pamper him.)

his relationship with sol grew as well. working such long working days was tough, but they tried their best. sol would sometimes deliver homemade stews to his apartment and joon hwi would deliver jjajamyeon with her extra pickles on some nights. they met on the weekends, where they would just go to the park and take strolls or hole up in joon hwi’s apartment to work on their cases together.

sol was doing exceptionally well as a new attorney, almost successfully appealing to all her clients. her clients love her, not only for winning, but for always being so caring to them. many say she still keeps in contact with some clients, even after the case has been closed. while she thinks it is no big deal, sol’s career was climbing up. her loans were fully paid, and she has begun looking into apartments for her family and her to shift out of. that alley brought too much danger, especially with byeol growing into a teenager and her mother’s joints weakening.

sol b took that gap year to work at an administrative office at a law firm, before deciding to continue her law career to gain experience before moving forward to be a judge. throughout the gap year, she split her time on herself and therapy, as well as on her study group. she found herself wanting to be a judge, not for her mother, but for herself.

jiho and sol b also started dating each other shortly after they graduated, when joon hwi spotted sol b and jiho holding hands when he was leaving his office. they only told the group a few months later. but of course, everyone knew by then. ever since then, they caught sol b and jiho smiling a bit more, even if their smiles were just the slight curl at the corner of the lips.

yebeom was doing well in his law firm, handling mostly small cases, but he was content since he had a fun time handling the many cases and making visits to meet clients instead of being stuck in the office. bokgi was a human rights lawyer, with most of his cases about the discrimination of citizens in any aspect. he fought for the rights of those of different sexual orientations, races and religions and was extremely happy being able to do that.

yeseul was defending women of all walks of life, from their unequal treatment to domestic abuse. she was passionate and has made headlines a few times over the years when she chose to speak out about her story. she was well known in this area, being the first few lawyers to be a victim of domestic abuse and defending them. she also kept in contact with professor kim and made regular visits at the legal clinic.

bokgi and her only started dating a year after the graduated. bokgi respected the reasons and her space and yeseul found herself falling in love with him. after all, he stood by her all this while for the whole three years and have seen her at her worst. more than that, he treated her with respect and loved her equally, even after all that.

one day, as joon hwi and sol spent their day on the sofa at joon hwi’s apartment, joon hwi was nervous to ask this question. sol was busy looking at different apartment listings.

“sol, can i ask you something?” joon hwi asks, grabbing her hand. sol nodded, eyes still focussed on her screen.

“would you... would you want to move in with me?” sol’s hand stops scrolling as the words sink in and she slowly faces her boyfriend.

“i... i don’t know. i mean, byeol and umma will be left alone, right?” sol says, her voice quiet and soft.

“we can live near them. i think the lease of the apartment is ending soon, anyways.” joon squeezes her hand.

“but... i don’t know if i have enough money to get an apartment for them and us. joon, i really want to, i really do. but...” sol’s eyes are uncertain, and joon hwi sees her eyes guilty, almost like she feels bad for saying that.

“we can get the apartment in instalments. you can buy one for your mom and byeol first and we will slowly pay for ours.” he says. placing a finger under her chin, he raises it so her eyes meet hers. “sol, they are going to be alright on their own.”

sol nods her head and reaches up to pull her boyfriend’s face to hers, letting their lips connect. his lips are soft against hers, as she taste the slight coffee taste from his mug. it’s almost frenzy, from what started as a simple kiss lead to a fight for dominance. without knowing, sol is straddling joon hwi, as his hands pull back her long hair.

when they pull away, he feels her hot breath on his face, and her face burning red, embarrassed at how she acted.

“should we get back to looking at apartments?” joon hwi asks, a small smile on his face, ultimately an act of tease to her. she quickly nods and climbs off of him as they look at apartments together. joon hwi gives her a knowing smirk, before sol swats his arm and they resume scrolling.

and it was true, when professor yang had him on speed dial.

he was just about to leave for a coffee and bother jiho for a bit at his office one day, when a call came in from professor yang.

“han joon hwi.”

“professor.”

“you’re needed, now. meet me at hankuk university in thirty minutes.” and the call disengages. it was a habit of his professor’s, to give blunt replies and just cut off without saying goodbye. he slips on his blazer and grabs his briefcase before picking up the call from sol instinctively. so much for listening to orders, even though he wasn’t a student anymore.

“called you too?” he asks once he picks up, scribbling on a post it note, noting his early leave from the office.

“what else? gosh, i really hate it when he hangs up like that.” sol replies, a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

“i’ll pick you.” joon hwi says, as he leaves his office, then knocks on jiho’s door. jiho’s head pops up from his laptop, before nodding in acknowledgement.

“no, don’t bother. i’ve already caught the train.” sol replies and joon hwi hears the familiar beeping of train doors. sol knows she’s got to hang up soon, if she doesn’t want to irritate other commenters on the train.

“love you.” he says back. sol’s face is blushing red, but she’s lucky everyone on the train was busy on their phone.

“i love you too.” she whispers before hanging up and storing her phone away in her handbag.

when they meet at the doors of hankuk university each time they are called in for a case, they can’t help but to think of how far they’ve come. sol, the girl with bad grades and on a scholarship. joon hwi, the top student with a hidden secret. yet in a matter of years, they blossomed together with their friends on their routes.

professor yang is by the lady justice statue, and when he looks up to see his students stroll in with authority and confidence, he gives a knowing smile.

shall we start?

#jtbc drama #jtbc law school #jtbc #kang sol a #kang sol b #kang sol a x han joon hwi #han joon hwi #joonsola #solhwi #jeon yeseul #jo ye beom #seo ji ho #min bok gi #yoo seungjae #original by akinosakiya #solhwi by akino #ryu hye young #kim bum #kim beom #law school #netflix #kdrama #korean

[startanewdream]

Goodbye kiss

Summary: Lately they only share goodbye kisses (or Harry and Ginny's thoughts the day before they break up at Dumbledore's funeral). Sort of missing moment.

Or I was in the mood for some angst.

Harry’s kiss speaks of goodbye, tiny silver bells announcing their relationship is almost over.

Ginny is familiar with ending a relationship. She has had two breakups, after all, and she knows they are a risk at any relationship; she even encourages them when the relationship is going sour. Clean breakups are ideal - no hard feelings, just the acceptance that things didn’t work and now everyone is better on another path.

She remembers how it was with Michael. What they had had been cute at first, even special because he was his first boyfriend and she was his. But that was it; the only thing they ever shared was that beginning.

There wasn’t many feelings between them towards the end. Michael was too occupied with his OWLs and Ginny was too occupied with her Quidditch trainings, so they barely saw each other besides some meetings at the corridor when their schedules coincided. Michael was always at the library, Ginny was always outside and neither seemed to actually miss one another.

And then her efforts in training had actually paid off when Ginny caught the snitch under Cho Chang’s nose. She’d thought that Michael valued competition enough to actually praise her for her performance, but he wasn’t in the mood - and Ginny wasn’t very patient too, she admitted later.

‘If you are so upset that I beat Cho, why don’t you run off to comfort her?’, she’d yelled, annoyed that he was judging her for being actually pleased that they had beaten Ravenclaw.

‘Well, maybe I will’.

‘Do whatever you want, Michael, we are done’.

Michael had done exactly what she had suggested, and then Ginny had felt a tingle of annoyance that was the first real thing she’d felt for Michael Corner in a long time. But it was brief; she was better without him and in any case he was free to go comfort anyone he wanted.

Ginny would never discuss the need for a breakup.

Her breakup with Dean was late. Being with him had been nice for a long time, but a good snog was not enough to make a relationship last.

Things were rocky between them for a longer time than their relationship was good, but they still had feelings for each other, so they had tried. In the end, it had not been really his fault as much as it wasn’t hers; they just weren’t compatible, Ginny eventually realized. Dean wanted someone to pamper and to take care of and Ginny could handle herself just fine. She refused to be the lady in distress Dean somehow hoped she was.

Eventually she would find out that it wasn’t Dean that actually pushed her on the day of their breakup, but Ginny would not complain. Luck or not, their breakup felt necessary, a resolution of a relationship that was going nowhere and that was only damaging the friendship she once had with Dean.

Later Dean would try to talk to her, would want to rekindle their relationship. He might have lingering feelings for what they once had - but the sparkle that had first made them work together was gone.

All her previous relationships had faded so naturally.

Which is probably why this imminent breakup with Harry scares her so much.

She could understand if they had not worked out, if they found out they were better friends than lovers. But those few weeks they spent together only made evident how natural, almost effortless, it was being with Harry; it felt like they were supposed to be together. Dating Harry was a bright spot in the middle of a growing darkness, that Ginny had dared to pretend it would last.

Even knowing, she had hoped for more: they had so little time together, stolen hours that are not nearly enough. Ginny wants the time they never had to argue withhim, to find his faults and to discover what are her quirks that annoy him. She wants to have a bad day to see how they would work things out. She wants the tempestuous days that will show they can overcome any problem. She wants the good days where they will walk every little next step on their relationship.

But they won't have any of it.

Ending things with Michael and Dean had brought her relief. But breaking up with Harry is just… painful. Wrong. Heartbreaking.

Breakups are for when a relationship is bad, not for when in its best glorious days. Breakups are for when people are not in love anymore - and Harry likes her as much as she likes him, that Ginny knows, that she can see in the way he is staring at her, so desperate and so sorry.

He doesn't want to end things with her. But he will.

She can feel in the way he gazes at her these last couple days, or how he sometimes clings to her as if he fears letting her go, or how the joy in his eyes (that had glinted ever since Harry first kissed her) is gone, replaced by a quiet sorrow.

She hears in his voice as he talks to her, the ending always at the tip of his tongue. Not yet, but soon.

This would be easier, so much easier, if she didn't like him so much. If her heart wasn't beating desperately (for more, she wants more of him, always a little more) as she puts her arms around his neck like she has done hundred of times before, her lips touching his tenderly.

But Harry hesitates, his lips trembling and not moving against hers, and Ginny can already hear the parting words she knows he needs to say.

At night, when she can't sleep, she wonders how it will happen. If he is just going to tell her it's over. If he will justify. If he will cry.

If she will cry.

'Harry', she calls him, a soft plead. 'Kiss me'.

One more time, she thinks. We will leave the goodbye for another day.

When she feels Harry finally answering her kiss - his lips are urgent, feverish, needy and so sorry - she hopes for once that another day never comes.

~*~

Ginny’s kiss tastes like goodbye.

Harry hates it because it’s all wrong.

They must have exchanged hundreds of kisses by now - there was that first glorious kiss (sunlit, Harry had thought, it tasted like sunlit mournings), the goodnight kisses that tasted of good dreams and the even better good morning kisses that spoke of the possibilities the day brought.

That chaste peck on his cheek when they were in the Great Hall and he had wished her good luck on her exam.

That take-away-your-breath, fumbling-hands, intense snog in the broom cupboard of the sixth floor that tasted like desire and curiosity. The kiss on his bed that was forbidden and wonderful until they were hastily interrupted when Dean and Seamus entered the dormitory and Ginny had to leave under the Invisibility Cloak.

The warm kiss they shared when Ginny took him to the kitchens for a midnight snack and he could savour the hot chocolate on her lips - and then next day, when they had shared a picnic on the grounds, on that bright hot summer day, he had tasted every flavour of the fruits on her lips too. Fresh and sweet and acid.

But never bittersweet like it tastes these days.

Harry knows what he has to do and still he can’t. Not yet.

(Not ever, but he must)

Kissing Ginny is excruating as if lightning - the one in the tower that killed Dumbledore, the one marked forever in his forehead - is striking him, burning him; and yet kissing her still heals too, a phoenix song that fills him with a vain hope.

He tastes the goodbye in every kiss they share these last couple days. It’s Dumbledore’s funeral tomorrow and yet the day is warm, the sun shining on the surface of the lake, none at all caring that Dumbledore is gone and that Harry’s future is dark.

Harry looks away from the lake, his eyes falling on Ginny by his side. She is thoughtful, but when she feels his gaze, she turns to him, the corners of her mouth lifting up as if it is the most natural reaction for her to smile at him. Harry takes in the sight of Ginny - flaming red hair, warm fierce brown eyes, freckles carefully spread on her cheek (and collarbone and a little bit over her breasts, Harry knows) and he thinks this is the sight he wants to take to his heart, to last forever, even if their kisses are counted now.

She approaches him carefully and Harry reacts without even thinking, a second nature now - his arms reach to her, wrapping around her waist while Ginny throws her arms around his neck. Her lips brush over his, softly, the promise of a kiss he knows they will share in a second or too and for that second Harry hesitates, desperate for her lips and fearing it.

Every kiss they share is somehow closer to their last one. He already tastes the goodbye; he is not ready to let that goodbye leave his lips.

Maybe… maybe he can keep it there a little bit longer. Maybe if they kiss, time will stop and he will be able to live in that moment forever. But this will be the kiss that never ends.

‘Harry’, she whispers. Her eyes burn deep. ‘Kiss me’.

As if there is no tomorrow, he hears in her voice. As if it’s not the last time. As you always kissed me.

And Harry does.

#hinny #angst #just some feelings and words #t: fanfiction #they break up but they get back together eventually #I will review it in the morning

[starlingflight]

@thisismegz as requested, the missing scenes from Everything I Wanted of Ginny dealing with her guilt over how things went between her and Dean. 

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The sun felt especially bright contrasted as it was by nearly a full day in the dungeons with no one but Snape for company. Harry savoured the way the light summer breeze tickled his uncovered arms and the way Ginny’s hand felt in his as they made their way out into the grounds. 

It seemed the majority of Hogwarts’ population had decided to take advantage of the good weather, for the lawn beside the lake was crowded with huddles of students. Their usual tree was already taken by a noisy group of fourth-year girls and so Ginny led him to a free patch of grass not far from the lake's stony shore. She sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling Harry with her. 

He went to position himself beside her but Ginny clearly had other ideas, she shuffled slightly, placing her hands on his shoulders and smoothly guided Harry’s head into her lap so that he was lying on the soft grass with Ginny above him, her fingers tracing lightly across his forehead. 

“If your brother sees this he’s going to lose his mind,” Harry warned, though in truth he was finding it difficult to care. The headache that had been building behind his eyes, caused by a long day in the dark, stuffy dungeon was receding with every stroke of Ginny’s fingers over his skin.

Unsurprisingly, Ginny seemed to care even less about Ron’s reaction than Harry did. Her only response to his warning was to gently slide his glasses off and place them carefully on the grass beside them, making it easier for her fingers to trace the features of his face without obstruction. 

Neither of them said anything for a while, Ginny was now little more than a blur of creamy skin and striking red hair above him. Eventually, Harry let his eyes slowly drift closed, revelling in the feel of her fingers on his face and the sweet, floral smell of her shampoo drifting to him on the summer breeze. 

Snape became nought but a distant memory under Ginny’s careful attention and Harry was vaguely considering that there was a strong chance he was going to fall asleep, warm and content as he was, when Ginny broke the silence between them. 

“I think I'm going to apologise to Dean," She declared. 

It took Harry a moment to register what she’d said, his brain felt fuzzy from the heat. When his wits finally caught up with him, Harry almost asked her why but he immediately realised he didn’t need to. 

He’d seen the guilt on Ginny’s face last night and he’d felt the same thing himself. They’d both admitted they’d been in denial about their feelings for each other for a while and maybe that was no one’s fault but it didn’t change the fact that Dean had been caught up in it. 

“If I tell you I think it’s a bad idea are you going to think it’s because I’m jealous or threatened or something?” 

Ginny's fingers were still stroking lightly across his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, across his forehead and Harry found that it was almost impossible to feel jealous given his current situation. 

“No,” She said mildly. “I’m going to ask you why you think that, though.” 

He’d rather she didn’t but if Harry was being honest with himself, he knew her better than to expect Ginny to blindly accept what he was saying. “I’ve been in his position. I watched you with him for months, and I didn’t expect you to break up or begrudge either of you your happiness or anything but…” 

Harry trailed off, still not used to telling anyone his deepest feelings and still not entirely comfortable with it. 

"But?" Ginny prompted, one of her hands working its way up into Harry's hair, massaging his scalp. He felt himself relax immediately. 

"But there isn't anything you could have said to me to make me feel better about the situation, to make me not want you." 

Ginny's hands didn't stop their slow exploration of his hair for even a second. "It's not the same thing," She said without missing a beat. 

"How isn't it?" 

"It was never like this with Dean," Ginny unwound one of her hands from his hair in order to gesture between the two of them before quickly returning it, much to Harry's delight. "I was never this happy, not even at the start. The thing that you were waiting for is so much better than what Dean lost." 

Secretly, Harry wholeheartedly disagreed with this. The thing that he'd been waiting for, the thing that Dean lost, was Ginny and there were no words on the planet that could ease the devastating blow that Harry already knew would come from ever losing her. 

"You really want to talk to him?" Harry asked, knowing it was pointless to argue with her when she'd already made her mind up. 

“I really do,” Ginny responded and Harry knew the matter was settled. 

“Okay,” He agreed. “Did you want to go now?” He added reluctantly, he could quite happily stay in this spot for the rest of his life. 

“No,” Ginny said quickly, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to get out of detention, you’re staying right where you are.” 

**

Ginny and Dean did not cross paths for the rest of the weekend. Nor was he anywhere to be seen at breakfast or lunch on Monday. Ginny was beginning to strongly suspect that he was avoiding her when she quite literally walked into him on her way out of Ancient Runes on Monday afternoon. 

“Sorry - oh!” Dean’s apologetic smile faltered as he took Ginny in. 

“I��ve been looking for you!” Ginny said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, though Dean still didn’t look cheered at her pronouncement. 

“Er, have you?” 

“Yeah, do you mind if we go somewhere and talk?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in a way that made Ginny’s heart sink. They’d been friends for years, they’d been close since the first D.A. meeting and now the two of them had reached a point where the prospect of holding a conversation was enough to set Dean on edge. 

“It’ll be really quick, I promise.” Ginny tried again, hoping her face held as much sincerity as she currently felt. 

“Alright,” Dean said reluctantly, gesturing for Ginny to lead the way. 

There was a low wooden bench halfway down the corridor, under a row of mullioned windows which revealed the sweeping vistas of the Hogwarts grounds and the lake. If nothing else, at least the view would be pleasant. 

Ginny took a seat on the bench and Dean followed her lead; she couldn’t help but note he was sitting as far away from her as physically possible. One good shove and he’d topple over onto the castle’s stone floor. 

“How have you been?” She began cautiously. 

“Fine,” Dean responded. Ginny raised a sceptical eyebrow. Dean had always been forthcoming with his feelings, one-word answers weren’t his style at all. “I’ve been good, Ginny. I’ve been working on my art - I’ve had a lot of emotion to channel into my drawings, I think I’ve got some really good ones for my portfolio.” 

Ginny nodded, trying not to think too hard about what emotions Dean may have been using to fuel his creative pursuits. “You were always very talented.” 

It was Dean’s turn to raise a dubious eyebrow at Ginny now. “Is that what you wanted to say to me? You like my drawings?”

“No, I wanted to apologise,” She said slowly, half-expecting Dean to shut her down before she’d explained herself. When he said nothing, but continued to look at her expectantly Ginny took a deep breath before continuing. “I should have ended things between us long before I did. I knew your feelings were stronger than mine and I shouldn’t have kept stringing you along.” 

Dean listened patiently as Ginny spoke, but he began to shake his head in disagreement as she finished. “That wasn’t what bothered me. It was that I could clearly see where things were going between the two of you, but you were so adamant that I was seeing things that weren’t there. It was frustrating.” 

Ginny began to fiddle nervously with the ends of her hair, slipping the long strands between the ends of her fingers. “You’re right,” She said quietly, looking not at Dean but out of the window where she could just make out the Giant Squid’s tentacles rising out of the water in the distance. “I know it probably doesn’t help, but I hope you know I wasn’t lying to you on purpose - I really believed our banter and joking was innocent, it was unbelievable to me that Harry might actually have liked me.” 

Dean made a noise halfway between a snort and a chuckle; Ginny looked back from the window to find that he was smiling at her. “Of course he liked you, have you seen you?” 

“Stop it!” Ginny exclaimed, reaching out and shoving Dean lightly enough that he didn’t fall off the bench as she’d been worried he might earlier. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” 

“You stop it!” Dean argued through a laugh. “Serious conversations don’t suit you at all!” 

Ginny grinned, it had been so long since they’d joked with one another. Even in the weeks before they’d broken up all they’d done was argue. “Does that mean we can be friends?” 

“Honestly, I think friends will suit us better than a relationship ever did,” Dean said sincerely. “No offence, but I didn’t find the constant fighting particularly enjoyable and I don’t think you did either.” 

Ginny chose not to answer, there was no point in going over their old fights now. When she looked back on her time with Dean it was as though she was remembering something from a different lifetime. Instead, she pushed herself up from the bench and waited for Dean to join her. “Come on, let’s go and set the Hogwarts rumour mill alight by walking into dinner together.” 

Dean fell into step beside Ginny without protest, the cautious, guarded look that had been upon his face at the beginning of the conversation was no longer in sight. 

#hinny #harry x ginny #dean thomas #hp fanfic #hbp missing moment

[neonthewrite]

Washed Up Winchesters 2

Jacob has brought the waterlogged strangers to shore, where his smaller friends can help them get back on their feet. There's only one issue ... we're not in Kansas - ehhh, Blefuscu anymore!

Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!

Reading time ~10 minutes.

( 1 ) -2- ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )

Story Tag

~~~~~

Jacob looked down just in time to see that exhausted lean. He paused his trek through the now-waist-deep water to move his hands even closer to his chest. The tiny knife rested precariously on his knuckle, no longer clung to as a desperate defense by the tiny little person in his hand. Now both of them were out cold, reminding him how much trouble they’d been in when he spotted them.

If he hadn’t rushed out to get to them fast enough …

He didn’t let himself dwell on it. Instead, as carefully as he could, he moved his hands together so he could gently settle the second guy down on his palm next to the first. They lay exhausted and unconscious, hopefully getting plenty of warmth from his hand. For all he knew, they could have been out on the water for hours before he wandered by. That knife tumbled to rest near the first of the two, and he hoped they wouldn’t wake up and decide to put it to use on him.

Hunting monsters. Does that include giants?

On his way back to shore, Jacob kept his eye on the pair of them, but they didn’t stir. By the time the water was barely up to his knees, he worried they might be worse off than he thought.

He was so preoccupied, he missed a small voice calling out for him at first. Back on dry land, with water rushing off of him and almost creating a small lagoon, he didn’t know what approach to take next.

“Jacob! What the hell!”

He finally glanced down to find a familiar, tiny shape waving frantically at him from the seaside cliffs. Those didn’t even come up to half his height, so he squatted down to put himself closer to Chase’s level.

“Chase, they were just floating out there on the water,” he explained. His voice pitched higher with worry, and he held his hand out to the cliff edge for Chase to see.

Chase, normally always ready with a joke or a cheesy remark, was serious as he beheld the bedraggled forms collapsed on Jacob’s hand. “Holy shit!” he hissed, hopping onto Jacob’s fingers like a ramp. He gingerly stepped around the pair and knelt down to see them closer, but frowned. “They were out in the water? How far?”

Jacob leaned closer as if he might see the pair as well as Chase could. “Pretty far. I couldn’t even stand up.”

Chase shook his head and his pitch black hair waved messily. “O-okay. Well. We should probably get them some help. Bring us all back to the house, alright? They probably need blankets, and stuff, or something. I dunno.”

Jacob nodded. “Let me know if they look like they’re gonna wake up before we get there,” he said, before rising to his feet with three tiny people on his hand.

~~~

The first thing Sam noticed, upon waking up, was how dry his mouth was.

Drawing in a raspy breath, Sam turned his head to the side and coughed. His throat was scratchy and dry, as though he'd had no water in hours. Squinting his eyes open, he blinked a few times, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings keeping him confused.

"Dee--" Sam only got the first sound of Dean's name out before his voice gave out and he coughed again. Licking his lips, he tried again, this time forcing out a "Dean?"

“Oh, shit!” a voice from somewhere else blurted. Footsteps followed, echoing slightly in the room lit mostly by tall windows on one side. Thin curtains wafted in a slight breeze, creating a gentle but bright view above where Sam lay.

Until suddenly someone was leaning over him to check on him. Sam balked back, deeper into the pillow his head was resting on.

“Hey, dude,” Chase greeted quietly. “Take it easy, okay? Your guy is on the other couch,” he leaned back and glanced over his shoulder to indicate the couch sitting opposite the one Sam occupied. Dean was there, wrapped in blankets and towels just like Sam, after their prolonged dip in the ocean. “It’s uh. We couldn’t get you guys to any beds to rest, so. Couches it is.”

He belatedly realized that he had a glass of water in his hand. “You probably need this, right? Man, I’m glad to see you’re awake. Had us worried there.”

Before anything, Sam glanced in the direction indicated to see Dean sprawled out, a boot sticking out of the blankets wrapped around him. Relieved to see that his brother had survived their short attempt at infiltration, Sam sank down into the cushions, accepting the water and tenderly wetting his mouth so he could talk. "Thanks," Sam managed. The water had helped. He was left with a thousand questions about just how they'd gotten here, though, considering the last he recalled, they had been floating in the ocean, long abandoned by the ship they'd taken out. Trying to condense those questions into one, all Sam could get out was "Who are you?"

Chase grinned. “Name's Chase. This is my house. My friend pulled you guys out of the water clear out in the bay and brought you here since he, ah, doesn't go into town much. Ta-da!” He held his hands open to grandly display the tidy, modestly-decorated living room.

Quickly enough, a more serious look replaced his bemused expression. “Other than, yknow, almost drowning … are you hurt or anything?”

Sam shook his head quickly, then paused to actually check. Other than the general aches and pains that came from hours keeping afloat in the ocean, nothing stood out to Sam as abnormal. “No, but Dean took the fall harder,” Sam admitted. He sipped at the water, then pushed himself up. He needed to check on Dean and make sure there weren’t any injuries.

So far, Dean hadn’t roused or budged since Sam and Chase had started talking. Much like Sam, he was still in the same clothes as when they were on the boat, with the towels and blankets bundled around to keep him warm.

When he got over, Sam checked to make sure Dean was breathing steadily. The leather jacket his older brother was known for was bundled up nearby, drenched with salt water.

“Dean’s not gonna be happy,” Sam commented dryly when he saw the state the jacket was in. He looked over at Chase. “How’d we get here? Last I knew, we were stranded with land too far off to see.”

Chase’s smile was more subdued this time as he tried to figure out how to approach the topic. From what he’d heard, one of these guys was quite freaked out when Jacob had found them, and he didn’t want to cause more upset while they were still in his house. “My friend Jacob actually spotted you and got you out of the water in the nick of time,” he hedged. “He was pretty worried, we had to send him on a walk so he wasn’t just pacing in the backyard wondering if he’d let you drown.”

He glanced at the curtained windows. “Guess you were already passed out when he showed up,” he said more gently. “I can get my sister to go find him, if ya want?”

“Yeah, if you could,” Sam said offhandedly, the importance of Chase’s statement not really sinking in. He wanted to thank their rescuer for himself, as soon as possible.

After, he would need to get Dean up to see what he remembered. They were on a case, after all. If they kept getting held up, by the time they caught up to the ship there’d be a trail of bodies to follow.

They had started out ten steps ahead on this case. How had it all gone so wrong?

"Just a sec," Chase agreed, before retreating to an arched doorway leading somewhere else in the house. He spared Dean one last glance, then nodded at Sam and disappeared through that doorway.

Even out of sight, it would be hard to miss the footsteps moving away. Even tougher to ignore was the shout that followed as Chase called up the stairs. "Hey, Minnie!"

"What?" Her voice from far away would be muffled to Sam, but still easily heard in the otherwise empty house.

"Go get Jacob back here!"

"Why can't you do it?"

Chase sighed in the most put-upon way he could manage. "Because, I have to be a good host and stuff!"

Minnie appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down in a frown. "Then why are you yelling at me?" she countered, even as she hurried down to join him. Chase smirked as she had to step around him, before she shoved lightly at his side and made him stumble against the railing.

He followed her into the living room just as she reached it to check on their would-be guests herself. Her stern look softened when she saw that only one of them had woken up yet. "He gave you some water, right?"

Sam was bemused by the sight of the siblings' argument. It reminded him sharply of several arguments with Dean that had gone in nearly the same direction.

“He did,” Sam confirmed, getting Chase off at least one hook. He had a suspicion that it wouldn’t take the kid long to get himself in trouble yet again, much like Dean managed on an hourly basis. “We’re just waiting for Dean to wake up now.”

Minnie nodded, glancing once more at Dean with a small glimmer of concern in her eyes. “Alright. I’ll go get Jacob. Chase,” she fixed him with an almost accusing look, “will get you guys whatever you need.” She could see in his face that he had yet to explain who Jacob was, and if this guy was unconscious when the resident giant showed up, he wouldn’t be expecting his return now.

Chase gave Minnie a thumbs up as she left again, and then wandered closer to where Sam stood by Dean. Privately, he rued how tall both these guys were; they could barely fit on the couches in the living room, and had required every extra blanket he and Minnie could find in the house.

On one hand, they had the right build for sailors. On the other, it would be weird for sailors to be out floating in the bay, so far from shore that only a giant had a chance of spotting them.

“Won’t take him long to wander back here,” Chase said mildly. “Do you, uh. Why were you in the water?”

Sam sat back on his heels, continuing to hover close to Dean. “We’re on a job,” he explained. “It’s… complicated. Suffice to say, we got tossed overboard when our cover was blown.”

There was a lot about that nagging at Sam. His lips turned down as he thought over the events leading up to getting tossed overboard. Nothing, right up until the moment they were grabbed, stood out to him as out of the ordinary. They went undercover all the time, and on that ragtag ship of passengers and personnel, they’d blended right in even in their standard outfits.

“We just don’t know how they found us,” Sam mused.

“You were undercover?” Chase echoed, his eyes widening with intrigue. Jacob would be shocked to find out that he’d somehow rescued a pair of … well, whatever these two were to require undercover work. It was probably super cool. “Dude, so that means me, Minnie, and Jacob are helping out your, uh. Mission?”

Amused, Sam gave a half-shrug. “Uh, I guess?” he said. “It’s not like we’re government agents, after all…”

Dean stirred on the couch, mumbling in his spot. Sam was up in a flash, offering the cup of water before Dean tried to say anything. He remembered the raw, dry feeling in his throat from being stranded at sea for so long and didn’t want Dean to go through that any longer than he had to.

While he watched to make sure Dean didn’t spill the cup, Sam frowned. “We need to make sure no one gets hurt, and this whole thing will just get covered up if anyone else in Blefuscu finds out--”

“Blefuscu?!” Chase blurted, only reining in his volume on the last syllable of the word. He glanced at Dean, still barely conscious, before fixing his surprised look on Sam once more. “You’re from Blefuscu?”

They weren’t even from Lilliput. Blefuscu, the neighboring land across a wide bay, had a storied past with Lilliput. They weren’t really at war anymore, but even with some tense trade moving back and forth across the bay, the two countries weren’t exactly best friends. Chase wasn’t sure he’d even told Jacob very much about Blefuscu yet.

A distant rumble sounded, far enough to seem like a simple gust of wind if one didn’t know what it really was. Jacob must have wandered quite far, but he could cover distances like no one else. As this Sam and Dean were about to find out. “Anyway, uh. I guess you oughta know … Jacob brought you to Lilliput. Surprise?”

#mywriting #collab #washed up winchesters #jacob andris #chase lisong #g/t #g/t handheld #gullivers travels fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #chase in lilliput au #sam winchester #dean winchester

[mrslackles]

what do you think are gg's biggest flaws?

Ooh, Anon! It’s like you’re in my head. 

I’m busy making a video (that will probably never see the light of day) about this --  my distance from the show has really helped with some super objective clarity -- so I’ll use my notes from that to help me answer. 

I’ll preface this by saying what I was most shocked by after putting down all the points was that Rio isn’t even mentioned until really far down??

Anyway, let's get into it.

These are Good Girls' greatest flaws in my opinion (and relative to season 1 -- while I think it had its flaws too, the list is far smaller and I think that's a separate post)

1. It didn't stick to its guns

What set this show apart from others in the 'Everyday person does crime (poorly)' genre was its comedic lightness, strong friendship element, relatability and emphasis on girl power.

a) By season 2, the lightness was already slowly disappearing to make way for season 3's darkness. (Quite literally; this show said sunlight scenes for WHO.) It also stopped being as fun. Remember how it genuinely used to be fun? I mean let's not forget The Best Scene Ever where Ruby shoots Big Mike by accident and we all laughed our asses off. (Compare and contrast to a similar-in-tone-and-context scene -- or even the whole episode -- like Boomer popping up behind them as Rio's package in season 3.) I think season 3 had some great lines and laughs, but in general, the fun element was completely missing for me.

b) As was the friendship. We already know Annie and Ruby basically became Beth's backup dancers in season 2, but at least then they still seemed to have some type of agency. In season 3, they rarely question Beth's (truly questionable) decisions, don't talk to her about shit like why she's still with her horrible husband and have very few true friendship moments as they did in season 1.

c) Which made it less relatable, but what also contributed was the major plot holes (it's less easy to relate when you're constantly having to remind yourself to suspend your disbelief). And, to be honest, their stupid actions. Just the most common-sense things weren't followed, like not taking your children to a crack den or not putting a hit out on a gang leader. It's frustrating watching a TV show -- where characters are supposed to learn things, have arcs and improve over time -- and feeling like you have more logical sense than all the main characters in every scene. (WHO would think a hitman was going to use a sniper rifle on people in broad daylight on the side of the road???)

d) You don't have to look any further than the title or the stans who shout "THE SHOW IS ABOUT THE GIRLS" -- or, hell, the first 10 seconds of the show where Sara is literally talking about the glass ceiling -- to know that the main characters being women is very important to the show. If not formally feminist, it was at least supposed to be empowering or feel like "girl power" (a term I hate, but we won't get into that now).

And I think it did it pretty well in season 1 -- it actually played on my favourite theme of the show, which is the world's perception of these women being what ultimately allows them to get away with so much. (Rife with opportunities for commentary about white privilege, but also a genius way to upend patriarchal beliefs.) But more and more it seemed like the show was asking you to accept empowerment as simply "these things are being done by women, yay".

And, well.

2. Its marketing

I'll keep this one short because I think we all know how messed up this situation is. Basically they're selling a show (every week!) that they're not making while ignoring all feedback on every social media platform. Which brings us to...

3. The marriage of Death

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times -- Beth's character development starts with getting rid of Dean. Her growth is stunted by him on multiple fronts and it's frustrating to viewers since she's constantly put forth as the main character. Not to mention how the audience, separately from Beth, was originally conditioned to see Dean as the scum of the earth (think of scenes like him crashing his car because he was perving on a woman jogging) so keeping them together is really... a choice. To actively root for this marriage (which seems like what the show wants, at least for the protracted moment) means either thinking Dean is a great person (which, as I said, we've only seen the opposite of) or believing he's all Beth deserves. Which leads me to...

4. Beth's (socio)path(y)

Is sociopath a 'good' word? Probably not. Have I seen dozens upon dozens of posts talking about whether Beth is one? Yes. And I see it from a huge variety of people -- from viewers who just binged the show last weekend to those who've been watching for years, the question keeps coming up. And I entirely blame the writing of the show that, by the way, I don't believe is deliberately creating Beth to get this reaction. I think she's written (and, to an extent, acted) in a way that is much too aloof and I'm not convinced it's meant to come off as cold and unfeeling as it does. Everything else leads me to believe that the audience is supposed to root for Beth, but it's just so difficult.

Beth does a lot of messed up shit that requires dialogue to sympathise with her and the inner workings of her mind, but in the later seasons Beth rarely gets to express herself verbally. And every time she does get to speak about her emotions, the dialogue is a pick-your-own-adventure between "She's in so much denial", "This person feels no emotions" and "I'll go find an analysis/fic later to explain this" (scenes like "Nothing" or "I was just bored"). Compare and contrast with some of the great scenes in season 1 where she emotes, like her paralysing shock after they first rob the store or admitting she enjoys crime, or (one of my favourites!) the one in the park where she's mimicking the other mothers beside her.

5. Brio

I said in the beginning that I was shocked Rio doesn't get mentioned until this point and that's because I've always felt like he was an integral part of the show. When people say the show is about the girls, they're truncating -- the show is about the girls getting into crime. That crime is represented by Rio over and over again -- they never bring in another criminal at his level (which is another one of its flaws, but that's also a different post); Rio is it.

And though I stand by Rio's importance, the truth is that Brio isn't as essential to the show, by which I mean that if all of the above were done well, it wouldn't be as sorely missed. In lieu of riveting plot, a fun friendship, character development and empowerment, most viewers have glommed onto Brio like a lifeboat (or ship, heh).

Unfortunately it's also what the show has most stubbornly refused to develop significantly.

It's honestly a toss-up for why I feel Brio is a flaw: is the flaw that they got together? That they never got together well enough? That the writing keeps bringing in these 'chemistry-filled' scenes that are ultimately filled with air?

I don't know. Maybe all of them; maybe just one, depending on the day.

6. Its criticism falls flat without intersectionality

This is a big one because Good Girls is *trying* to do something very clever. As mentioned previously, my favourite theme of the show is how the women's apparent innocence/vulnerability in the eyes of society is their biggest strength. The show plays with this and other interesting themes with varying levels of success, but ultimately they all fall a little flat when they don't feel intersectional.

When Ruby gets sidelined. When Turner, who sees and all but calls out by name Beth's privilege, is portrayed as the villain. When Rio is told he's gonna "pop a cap" in his young child's "ass". When the racist grandma becomes a sympathetic character whom we must later grieve. (And she really didn't have to be racist, now that I think about it? It was just that one line for laughs and that was it.) When, despite the real-world implications, Dean can loudly announce in a store that he's buying a gun to kill someone with and the show just glides past it. When Ruby has to grovel for forgiveness from Beth for trying to protect her husband and family from the system, with no acknowledgement from Beth about how their realities are different. When Rhea gets booted off the show as soon as she's done serving Beth's plot. When Rio gets treated like a prostitute for absolutely no reason. (Oh, and is accused of raping Beth and is literally spoken of as an animal and starts only existing in zero dim lighting as a one-dimensional stereotype... the list goes on.)

7. PR/The actors

I'll risk my life here to sprinkle this in because I do think it's a massive problem. The Manny/Christina of it all is just the tip of the iceberg (although wtf Good Girls? There's nothing you could do to get these two into an interview together??). The main actors do the bare minimum to promote the show and it's weird. I also think it's the height of unprofessionalism to keep characters on the show against the wishes of the majority of the audience just because you enjoy their actors (Boomer confirmed; Dean highly suspected). While, on the flip side of the coin, limiting a character's screentime because you aren't best buddies with them. Having less and less Rio when he's such a fan favourite is dumb; as is not including him in any series marketing material. It feels personal and that isn't how a TV show should be run.

8. The entire hair and wardrobe department needs a stern talking-to

#Anonymous #NBC Good Girls #also imo Matthew Lillard is weird af online #and he's lucky he has his Scooby Doo rep #anyway Reno Mae and Isaiah are my faves #on IG #ALSO speaking of wardrobe! #I saw the Fitzpatrick scene #and it was really good ngl #but also Beth LOOKED good?? #her makeup was nice again #and there were even HEELS #the granny belt was also present again BUT #the rest was really nice #last also #the intersectionality really affects every other point as well #this show's racist/tone-deafness is an undercurrent throughout #sorry this took me so long to answer Anon! #I wanted to get everything #I had to come back and add the hitman thing #because it was SO DUMB!!!!! #I will forever have a gripe with that scene #it also was only funny for the first few seconds but the director persevered

[team-free-will-you-idjits-67]

In the Light of Death

Description: Death can bring out the best in people, especially Dean Winchester.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4736

Warnings: THIS COULD BE TRIGGERING. Reader gets cut up during the story. Slight Gore. SMUT. 

Author’s Note: This has been a request sitting in my drafts for sooooo god damn long from @shademered. They requested “I would like it to be a Dean imagine! Where the reader is a hunter and been hunting with the Winchesters for about a year and gets kidnapped by vampires during a hunt by herself. And the brothers come and save her before she almost dies! At the end, Dean and her finally admit feelings and end with fluffy smut.” I hope this does justice for what you imagined this story would be like! 

Masterlist / Dean Winchester Masterlist / Taglist

Throbbing behind your closed lids made you groan outwardly. Flashes of the last twenty four hours played in your mind as you opened your eyes slowly. Light flooded your iris’, causing you to squint until you got used to the bombardment of the flourescent's blaze. 

“Well, well, well.” Heels clicked against the wooden boards, “Look who’s awake.” You turned quickly, ignoring the protests from your sore muscles, towards the high, melodic voice. Seeing the tall, ivory-skinned and black-haired beauty in front of you made you angry as you thought about all the lives she and her nest were responsible for taking.  

“Yeah,” you pulled at your binds, wanting to rub at the blow to the back of your head, “It was a nice nap.” You smugly grinned towards the nest leader, “I really needed that.” 

She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her faux leather-clad limbs, “You hunters fascinate me.” She walked around your chair, disappearing behind you. You knew she had stopped when her heel clicks ceased behind you and small chuckles escaped her lips, “When you are about to die, you use sarcasm to ignore your fate.” 

“Oh really?” You tried turning towards her but failed as the ropes constricted with your movements, “So, I’m not the first hunter to try and kill you?” 

Heels clicked against the decaying oak boards of the old barn, the leader coming back into your view with a smirk splayed across her red painted lips, “Oh no honey.” She bit her bottom lip as she stopped in front of you again, “And you won’t be the last.” She sighed and looked up towards the ceiling, her arms dropping to her sides as she continued, “You all come in here, guns blazing, alone, and misjudge the size of my nest.” 

You raised your brows towards her, surprised she didn’t know that you weren’t alone and in fact with two of the most notorious hunters in the United States, and chuckled, “Oh, I’ll get out of here, sweetheart. Trust me.” 

She furrowed her brows, a curled strand of black hair falling into her face as she pouted towards you mockingly, “Oh, is the big, strong hunter going to break out of those binds and kill all of us?” She waved her hands dramatically, “Oh, I’m so scared.” 

You nodded, “Something like that.”

She shook her head, “I don’t think so, honey.” She walked towards you and crouched before running her coal black painted nails up your legs and digging them into the meat of your thighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll make this long and painful for you,” she winked. 

You steeled yourself for the torture to come as you waited for the boys to come to your rescue. The fight you had with Sam and Dean earlier in the day replayed in your mind. 

“Damnit, Y/N! Why are you being so difficult about this?” Dean sighed, “We’ve been by that barn multiple times, there’s no way that nest is holed up there.” 

Sam nodded, agreeing with his brother, “I staked out the barn, there was no sign of the nest.” He pulled his laptop across the bright green motel table top, “There’s an abandoned factory about 3 miles outside of town, I think they’re there.” He cleared his throat, “If the nest is as big as we think, that’s where they’re going to be at.” 

You shook your head and scoffed from the bed you were sitting on, “For a nest of this size to still be around and not have any hunters stop them, they’re smarter than we think. They wouldn’t be somewhere that just ANY other hunter would think they were at. They would cover their tracks and lay low until they could move again.” 

Dean shook his head, “Sammy and I have been doing this for a long time, quite a while longer than you have, Y/N. They’re not at that barn.” He walked towards the grime covered refrigerator and yanked at the door before pulling out a beer, “I know you haven’t been with us long, but just trust us.” 

You scoffed towards the eldest Winchester, “Normally I would,” you stood up, the mattress springs squeaking in protest from the movement, and walked towards the motel room bathroom door, “But, my gut is telling me something different.” You turned back towards the boys before you slipped into the dimly lit room, “And that is something, Dean Winchester, you taught me to follow in this last year.” 

“UGH,” you grunted as the leader sliced at your belly once more. The front of your gray t-shirt was now shredded and dark red, parts of the destroyed cloth clung to your skin as earlier cuts began to dry. 

“Oh, honey.” The leader licked the blade that was coated with your blood, “I’ve got so much more planned for you.” She ran the blade across your cheek, applying soft pressure to cut the plump meat, “I hope you can handle it.” 

You spit at the abhorrent creature in front of you, “Bring it, bitch.” 

She wiped at her face with a cackle, “That was a bad decision.” 

You stared at the popcorn ceiling as you listened to the rhythmic breathing of the boys. Turning onto your side, you looked around the room. The moonlight lit the room faintly, letting you make out the sleeping features of Dean on the bed beside you. One leg hung over the side of the mattress, his face half smashed into the pillow that he bear hugged, his hair disheveled and stuck up at random angles. You smiled and stifled a giggle as you looked at him. 

Even though you were pissed at him, you couldn’t bury your feelings for the goofy, overprotective, older Winchester. 

Sighing, you looked towards Sam, sleeping on the couch, that was far too short for him, with his laptop sitting on his chest. The notebook computer fell and rose with each slow breath he took. 

Your gut feeling nagged at you all night, keeping you up from the peaceful slumber you could be having with the boys. In that moment, you decided you were going to give in and go to that barn. You threw the stale sheets back from your body, grabbed your jeans from the floor and slid them on quickly but quietly. 

Your eyes darted between the boys as you slipped your boots on and grabbed your duffle, making sure you weren’t waking the boys as you slipped out of the motel room. 

You got into your 1972 orange, Dodge Challenger and started the loud engine. You silently prayed that the booming motor hadn’t woken the boys as you put the car into drive and headed out to the barn. 

You cursed at yourself for your dumb decisions as you could start to feel your blood loss begin to affect you, clouding your mind slightly. You only wanted to check out the barn, you didn’t expect for the nest to attack you when you parked your car a mile down the road from the crumbling building. 

The leader snapped her blood covered fingers in front of your face, “There’s no time to pass out on me, hunter.” 

You chuckled, “I’ve still got awhile, twilight.” 

“Boy, you hunters are something.” Her words dripped with annoyance as she continued, “You pretend you’re much stronger than you are.” She slashed at your other cheek with a hiss, “It’s annoying.” 

You looked down at your lap, watching blood drip onto your blue jeans as you heard yelling pick up from deeper within the barn. Her head shot towards the door closing you off from the rest of the nest, but her attention soon snapped back to you as you started laughing softly. “Don’t you wanna check on that?” You teased. 

She shook her head, “Probably just a dumb fight, they’ll settle it or kill each other.” You raised a brow towards her as she shrugged, “I can always make more vampires, but I can’t cut you up like this ever again.” 

You nodded with pursed lips, “That makes sense.” You shifted in your seat, the binds seemingly getting tighter as the noises deep within the barn started to get louder, “But, that doesn’t sound like a little fight.” 

She threw her blade down to the hay littered floor and stomped her foot in annoyance, “Those goddamn idiots.” She stormed towards the door as three other vampires within the nest broke through the oak entryway. 

“Hunters!” They yelled in unison. 

You looked up as Sam and Dean marched into the room with blood soaked machetes. Your stomach did somersaults when you saw Dean walk through those doors, relief flooding your clouded mind. You knew you were finally safe. 

Dean chuckled but his demeanour quickly changed as he saw you, alive but hurt, “Oh yeah, hunters.” He nodded, “And you’re going to pay for hurting,” he raised the blade towards you, “her.” 

You chuckled as the leader turned around to glare daggers at you, “I told you I was going to get out of here.” 

She started to run towards you, Dean following quickly behind, as Sam distracted the other three from the nest. “You haven’t gotten out of here yet, bitch.” She lunged towards you, fangs bared and aimed towards your throat. You closed your eyes, readying yourself for the impact that never came. You opened your eyes as you heard a loud thud against the floor, Dean was on top of the leader, struggling to push the machete down onto her neck. She screamed, “Get him off me!” Pulling the attention of her children of the night. 

Sam was able to slice one vamps head off as the other two darted to save their leader. He followed closely behind to protect his brother, pulling one vampire off of Dean, tugging so hard it slid across the hay littered floor. He lunged towards the vamp as it somersaulted backwards to upright itself, it looked up with fangs exposed as Sam sliced through its neck.

The one on Dean’s back successfully pulled him off the leader and began choking him. Dean swung his machete back with his right hand as his left pulled at the arm around his neck. “Dean!” Sam yelled out as he started to run towards his brother, ignoring the leader getting up from the floor and making her way towards you. 

“Y/N!” Dean rasped out, “Save Y/N!” 

You tugged at your binds, praying they’d loosen as the leaders face contorted with a hiss and she lunged once again. Sam leapt, grabbing her legs just in time, her fangs narrowly missing your throat as she was ripped away from you. 

The vampire fighting Dean shifted his focus as Sam struggled with the leader. He threw Dean against the outer barn wall, wood slabs cracked against the weight of Dean hitting the deteriorating oak. Dean groaned as he hit the floor, his attention shifting towards you as you screamed, “Sam! Behind you!” Dean’s eyes darted towards his brother just as Sam sliced towards the vampire coming up behind him, his free arm still holding the leader to the ground securely as he slashed the vampire's torso. Dean jumped up and tackled the injured vampire away from his brother, hacking its head off as Sam finally got enough leverage to slash at the leaders. 

You watched heads roll across the floor in opposite directions as Dean rushed to your side. You both looked at each other like deer in headlights as he cut at the ropes binding your limbs, “How are you doing, Y/N? Are you okay?” 

You nodded, “For the most part.” You winced when the last rope was cut and you could finally move, your muscles screaming from the abuse they had taken in the last couple hours as you tried standing from the chair.

Dean caught you as you stumbled forward, “Woah there tiger.” He wrapped your left arm around his waist as he chuckled, engulfing yours with his large, muscular arm and supporting most of your weight, “Take it easy. You’re cut up pretty bad.” 

You snickered and then hissed at the cuts that stung along your torso from the movement, “No shit, Sherlock.” 

Dean shook his head with a smile, “Let’s get you back to Baby so I can look at some of those wounds for you.” 

You shook your head, “I’ll be fine until we get back to the motel, help Sammy with burning the vamps.” 

You walked through the barn quickly, taking note of all the bodies that littered the floor. The glistening of Baby’s wax coating in the moonlight became a very welcoming sight to you as Dean stammered, “Ar-are you sure? You might have some cuts that need, uh, instant attention.”

You waved him off as the back seat door creaked open, “I’ll be okay.” You groaned as you slid into the back seat, “Things will go faster if you go help Sam out, and then you can patch me up back at the motel.” 

Dean nodded with pursed lips, “Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

You watched Dean jog back into the barn before leaning your head back onto the top of the bench seat. You closed your eyes for what seemed like seconds, but really had been 15 minutes, enough time for the boys to burn all the bodies and have the barn begin to engulf in flames. Your eyes shot open as Dean shook you softly, “Y/N!” 

“Ugh, what Dean!” You looked towards him as your eyes adjusted in the darkness, worry set deep within his features but relief flooding through his olive iris’ as he sighed, “I thought you had passed out.” He rubbed his mouth as he sat forward in the back seat, “You scared me.” 

“I’m fine, Dean. Just,” you yawned, “tired.” You glanced out the window of the impala, noticing the scenery fly past the windows. You turned your head quickly, your gaze falling on Sam driving Baby, his eyes darting between the mirror and the road. “Wait, you let Sam drive?” You giggled, “You were that worried?” 

Dean bit his lip as he stared at you, “You know what?” He smiled as he shook his head towards you, “Shut up.” 

Sam piped up from the front seat, “He was really worried.” A smile plastered across his face as he watched his brother from the rearview mirror. 

“Eyes on the road, Sammy. I don’t need you killing all of us,” Dean grunted. 

-----------------------

Dean followed you into the motel room as you heard Sam pull away in the impala. Sam ran to go get the three of you food while Dean cleaned, stitched and bandaged your wounds. You tugged your flannel off slowly as Dean shut the thin, wooden door. He walked over to the table, grabbing medical supplies from the black duffle that took up most of the bright green tabletop. You tugged at your blood soaked, shredded t-shirt as you sat onto the bed you left unmade earlier that night, “Dean.” You sighed, “I need help with my shirt.” 

He nodded, “Yeah, just a sec.” He dug through the bag and grabbed scissors before bringing all the supplies to the bed and dumping them next to you. He took a deep breath and smiled at you nervously, “Are you ready?” 

“Go ahead, Dean. I don’t bite,” you snickered. 

He rolled his eyes with a smile while he gripped the bottom seam of your t-shirt and centered the scissors on it. As he cut up the middle of your shirt, his tongue peaked out between his teeth and rested against his bottom lip as he concentrated, causing you to giggle softly. “What?” He questioned. 

You shook your head gingerly, “Nothing. You’re just a dork.” 

“Oh really?” He slid your t-shirt over your shoulders and down your arms carefully, “Well, this dork is trying to patch you up right now.” 

“I know, Dean.” You looked up towards the gentle giant that currently towered over your sitting frame, “I appreciate it Dean.” 

He scoffed, “It’s nothing, you’ve patched me up countless times.” 

You nodded, “Yeah, well, I got hurt because of my own dumb decisions.” Yours and Dean’s eyes locked as you continued, “You could have left me in that chair to bleed a little longer as punishment.” 

“Yeah,” he sighed as he gathered alcohol and gauze, pouring the clear liquid onto the sterile cloth, “it was a pretty dumb decision to go alone.” He paused with an apologetic glance, “This is going to sting.” You nodded as he continued, hissing as the alcohol burned against your wounds, “But, it’s something I would have done if I had felt the same way as you, so I can’t blame you for it.” He softly wiped at your cuts, cleaning the dried blood, “Like you said, I taught you to follow your gut this last year you’ve been with us.” 

You looked down at your torso, shocked at all the cuts that littered your stomach and chest, “When did you guys find out I was gone? How did you figure out that’s where I went?” 

Dean chuckled softly, “Well, I got up to pee like an hour before we showed up to the barn.” He sighed as he worked to clean a gash across your chest, “I noticed you were gone before I got back into bed. I checked outside to make sure you didn’t just go and decide to get a midnight snack but when I came back inside, I noticed your weapons duffle was gone.” He shrugged, “So, I assumed that’s where you went after our fight earlier.” 

You nodded, “Well, I guess I’m glad I’m a little predictable then.” 

Dean chuckled, “Like I said, it’s something I would do.” his brow furrowed as he focused on a cut on your side, the end disappearing underneath the bra you were wearing. He glanced up at you and then back towards the cut. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, “Is it okay if I get under there to get at that one?” 

You nodded, “Let me take it off for you.” You leaned forward slightly and bit your lip, trying not to cry out in pain from your injuries as you attempted to unclasp your bra. 

“Y/N,” Dean sighed, “I can get it off, don’t hurt yourself.” He pushed you back up gently and wrapped his arms around your back as he unhooked the clasps with ease. 

You could see the color wash away from his face as he began to panic with the thought of seeing your breasts. You giggled inwardly at his reaction but soon realization hit you as your bra fell into your lap. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as your nipples hardened to the new, cool air swirling around them and Dean drank in your naked chest. 

You both sat in awkward silence as Dean cleaned and bandaged your wounds. Once he was done, he almost ran towards his duffle that sat on the floor across the room and grabbed one of his t-shirts. “Let’s get this on you and then I’ll clean the cuts on your face,” he said with what seemed like a sad smile. 

You raised your arms as far as you could as Dean slipped his t-shirt over you. Even though the shirt was clean, you could still smell his musk embedded within the cotton. Bourbon and cinnamon enveloped your senses, distracting you from the sting of the alcohol on your cheeks. 

“Dean?”

He looked up from the gash that ran along your right cheek, “Yes?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you were going to say, making Dean smirk with the action, “What’s up, Y/N?” 

You sighed, choosing your words carefully you stuttered out, “Why were you so worried that you had Sam drive us back here?” You looked down at your lap as Dean’s hand dropped from your cheek, “I’ve seen Sam pretty messed up before but you never had me drive us somewhere as you checked on him in the back seat.” You looked back up towards Dean, his gaze directed towards the gauze stained with your blood. 

Sighing, he threw the gauze pad into the pile of dirtied dressings on the discolored carpet and looked up at you from his knelt position on the floor, “I-I care about you, Y/N.” He looked into your eyes, the olive orbs searching deep within your Y/E/C ones, “I have always gotten upset when someone who hunted with us would get hurt, but for some reason tha-that’s like,” he paused and licked his lips, “amplified with you.” He placed a warm hand on your left cheek below the second gash on your face, “I thought the worst the whole way there.” He chuckled as you leaned your head into his hand and placed yours over his, “I don’t think I’ve ever killed vamps faster in my life. I wanted, well needed, to know you were alive.” 

You rubbed your thumb along his slowly with a small smile, “I can’t even begin to describe how happy I was to see you walk through those barn doors.” 

You both stared at each other in that moment with grins fading as feelings began to heighten. You weren’t really sure who made the move first but soon enough, your lips were against Dean’s. His hands cupped both sides of your face as your hand that had previously covered his now wrapped around his neck, gripping softly at the nape. 

Dean broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “Woah.” You giggled together, “I’ve wanted to do that for awhile.” 

You pulled back slightly, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to hide the smile plastered on your face, “I had to almost die for you to finally wanna do that?” 

“No,” he said as he shook his head with a chuckle, “I just didn’t think you reciprocated my feelings.” He rubbed his thumb along your cheek softly, “To be fair, this is also the only time we’ve really been alone before.” 

“You’re right.” You glanced towards the motel room door, “Then why not make the most of it?” 

Dean’s face crinkled with confusion. “What do you me-,” he tried questioning before you cut him off with a kiss. 

Your lips became hungrier, kissing with more passion this time as your tongue slid against Dean’s bottom lip. Heat began building in your core as your tongues melded together. You grabbed at each other, Dean acting more careful than you due to your injuries as he slid you up the bed without breaking the kiss. 

He laid beside you and ran his hands down your body, pulling your leg up over his hip when his hand met your thigh. You both kissed each other like it would be your last time, but you both knew it would only be the first of many.

Dean rolled over you slowly, avoiding placing pressure on your stomach as he pulled at his t-shirt you wore. You sat up slightly, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head because of your limited mobility. He pecked your lips softly before he pulled back and took in your naked chest once more, but in a whole new light. His eyes sparkled as he bent forward, placing soft kisses along exposed skin, avoiding the gauzed areas.

He kissed down your body, stopping when he reached the waistband of your jeans. He looked up at you, asking for silent permission as his fingers hooked themselves into the band. You nodded and watched him as he pulled the denim down your legs slowly, revealing the baby blue panties you wore underneath. 

Dean’s hands ran along bruises in every stage of healing and old hunting scars gently. His eyes roamed your body, drinking in every inch of you as he smiled. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” 

You blushed from his adulation. “Thank you,” you said in a whisper. 

He licked his lips as he eyed your underwear, pulling the thin material down your legs and fully exposing you to him. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, shyness taking over as Dean looked you over once more before tugging at his clothes. In what seemed like seconds, his layers flew off his body and to the floor. You stared as he exposed his tanned, toned chest and then pulled at his own dirtied jeans. He stood before you in his boxers, tented from his erection, before pulling them down slowly. His cock bounced in the air as it was released from it’s confines, the length and thickness not going unnoticed by you. 

He crawled up the bed slowly before settling at your side once more, placing a longing kiss on your lips. Dean reached towards your cunt, slowly running his fingers through your slick with a pleasant groan, “You’re so wet for me.” He dipped his fingers into you, scissoring you open as his thumb rubbed small circles over your clit. You moaned softly as he began to work you towards your climax, “I’m going to get you ready for me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, “I don’t wanna hurt you more than you already are.” 

You wanted to laugh but his fingers worked you over expertly, bringing you to your peak within minutes. “Fuck, Dean,” you moaned out as your orgasm washed over you. 

He placed a small kiss to your cheek before getting up and settling himself between your legs. He lined the tip up to your entrance, sliding it through your arousal, “You ready?” 

You nodded haphazardly, side effects still flowing through you from your climax, “Yes. Please, Dean.” 

He obliged, plunging his cock into you gradually until he was fully sheathed inside you. He rocked his hips slowlly with a grunt, “Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N.” 

You gripped his biceps as he continued his relaxed and smooth thrusts, pulling yourself up slightly to catch his lips with yours. Dean worked the both of you towards your climaxes with a steady rhythm. Your moans became louder as the heat within your belly spread through your body rapidly, your orgasm making your whole body tingle and your cunt clench around Dean’s cock. His hips began to falter as he got closer, more grunts and groans falling from his lips before he came with a roar. 

He placed a gentle kiss to your lips before rolling off of you. He glanced towards you and watched you as you laid there with eyes closed, panting. “You okay?” 

You turned your head towards him with a chuckle, “More than okay.” Dean grabbed your hand with a smile and squeezed it tenderly. You laid there for a few moments, enjoying the alone time with Dean before you remembered why you both were alone. 

You sat up quickly and scanned the room for your discarded clothes, your eyes landing on your panties as you stood up from the bed to grab them. As you slid your feet through the leg-holes, you looked up at Dean. His brow was furrowed in confusion, “What’s wrong?” 

You grabbed his t-shirt from the bed and held it out towards him, silently asking your help as you responded, “Sam is going to be back with food any minute.” 

“Oh, crap.” He sat up quickly, helping you put on the shirt quickly before grabbing his clothes from the floor, “I totally forgot about him.” 

You shook your head as you laughed, digging through your duffle for pajama pants, “It would have been pretty awkward for him to walk in here to us being naked, twisted up in the sheets with each other.” 

He threw his t-shirt over his head, “He’ll find out eventually though.”

You nodded as you settled on a pair of shorts, “Right. But, I don’t need him finding right after we had sex for the first time by walking in on us.” 

Dean chuckled as he walked over to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you, “That’s true.” 

You wrapped your arms around his torso and buried your head into his chest, taking in his musk mixed with burning wood from the barn he had set on fire earlier that night. “We can tell him tomorrow,” you said as you looked up at him. 

He smirked, “Deal.” 

TAGS: 

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#supernatural fanficiton #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #spn fanficition #spn fluff #spn smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester and reader #dean winchester and you

[pumpkinpiejack]

A couple days ago I sent this ask to @lobotomycastiel and actually ended up writing it. It’s mainly about Dean, Claire, and baby Jack dealing with some of the pain of losing Cas.

You can also read it on AO3.

Three days.

Three days, Dean had been in charge of Jack. Three days since they found him smoldering the blankets on Kelly’s bed, sheets stained with blood. Three days since Dean had picked him up and refused to put him down.

Three days since Dean put Cas’s body on that pyre and watched it burn to nothing but ash and dust.

It stains everything he touches, streaks against Jack's baby pale skin, fingerprints on Sam’s clothes. The taste coating the back of his tongue. He can't escape it, can't drive fast enough to get rid of it. It lingers in the air around him and mocks him for his loss, but he still can’t seem to bring himself to wash it off.

Jack hasn't stopped crying since they lit the pyre. Dean prepared the body himself. He owed this to Cas after everything, to prepare his body right, to make sure his hands were gentle. He carried him out to the pyre too, a baby strapped to his chest, unnaturally quiet in the fading light of the sun.

Dean hadn't been able to finish it. His entire body stood curled around Jack, his face buried in the baby's soft hair as his hands shook so hard he couldn't light the match. He couldn't pour the salt, he couldn't hold the gas can.

His skin felt too tight for his body, like something was trying to escape, an animal in his chest scratching and clawing at the inside of his ribs and everything hurt.

Jack cries and he cries and he cries and Dean is thrown back into every shitty night on the road with Sam as a baby and he can't breathe. He remembers waking up at night to the same sound and curling up in a playpen that was far too small for both him and Sam. He wanted to make it better. He wanted to be able to help and make the crying stop.

But, the only time Jack stops is when Dean holds him and only when it's in a specific way. His tiny cheek needs to be pressed into Dean’s shoulder, just over Cas’s handprint and doesn't that just fucking hurt.

It aches in a whole new way, like he somehow senses Cas there.

The handprint itself has faded over the years. All the times he’s been healed and rebuilt from the inside out, and it is the only thing that remains. A discolored and slightly raised patch of skin that means more to him than any physical object on earth (besides his baby of course).

Three days. Two days to drive home and one day to prepare himself.

Sam made the call. Dean couldn't get Jack to stop crying long enough to do it himself, not without risking waking him up. Even with a day to prepare himself, it still wasn't nearly enough.

When Claire walks in it's like the floor falls out from underneath Dean’s feet. She’s a mess. Her eyes rimmed red, mascara and eyeliner streaking down her face and she looks like she drove straight through the night. Her hands shake, just like his as he hands Jack to Sam.

He holds him awkwardly, his hands too big, too unaccustomed to holding something so fragile. Dean could count the number of times Sam had held Jack on one hand. He couldn't be away from Dean for long or he would start crying, shrill shrieks that shake the very ground they stood on. Cries that cause the glass to rattle in its pane and nearly makes Dean’s ears bleed on more than one occasion.

“You look like a mess.”

“Says you.”

Touché. Dean hasn't slept either, hasn't showered, hasn't eaten. He drove 1,700 miles in two days, a crying baby strapped into his backseat the entire way. He knows he looks like shit. He still has ash smeared across his face, he can't seem to bring himself to wipe it away.

He can't bring himself to be far from Jack, can't stand him crying. He can't look at Jack, his eyes repeatedly drawn to the blue that is so familiar and so foreign all at once. He can't light a match. He can't think about his mom. He can't admit Cas is….

There's a lot he can't do right now.

Claire’s voice is quiet. It’s calm in all the ways that Dean knows that she isn't. He can see the rage boiling under the surface. The sadness, the grief all tangled into a little ball, locked away so deep inside of her that the only place it was visible was her eyes.

She tries to stay strong, but she still looks around as if she’s missing something, because the truth is, she is. She looks around the room searching for the same figure that he does every time he enters a room and they’ll never find it. Not now and never again.

He turns to tell Cas a joke, and he’s not there. He’ll see a blurry image of tan and black out of the corner of his eye and reach out with Jack, a mumbled thank god under his breath, but there’s never anyone there.

He’s just alone as she is, even with three other people in the room.

And then the dam breaks.

“How could you?” Dean keeps looking at her. He owes her that. He looks her in the eye and listens, because he owes her that. He watches as they fill with tears and, god, hers are the same as Jack’s. So similar but not quite right. Almost everything he could ever want and his chest burns.

Cas never cried, even when he was dying on the floor of that barn, black ooze streaming out of his mouth, skin rotting and flaking up the side of his neck, he didn't cry. He just looked at Dean with those blue eyes and told him he loved him, that he loved all of them.

They never got to talk about it.

“You were supposed to keep him safe!” Her voice breaks as she launches herself at him, her fists smacking against his chest, but he can't really feel it. Over and over and over she drives the side of her fist into his chest. Like a little kid throwing a tantrum. He makes no move to stop her, to grab her hands and still them. He just lets her. I owe her this, I deserve this. “You promised me you would keep him safe,” and all at once her anger is gone, washed away with her tears as she leans her head against his chest and she sobs. “How could you?”

Finally, Dean moves. He places a hand on the back of her head, careful of any indication that she didn't want to be touched, but she just leans in farther, collapses into his chest and sobs harder.

She’s so small, so young despite her fiery disposition, he could tuck her perfectly under his chin. Dean remembers feeling on top of the world at her age. Twenty years old and suddenly he could rule the world, tear it all down from the ground up and rebuild it in his own image if he wanted. But here she is, a perfect mirror of him and all he sees is a scared little kid.

He can hear Jack crying in the background, having reached his limit of being away from Dean.

Eventually, she pulls away, shoving him and turning to where Sam is holding Jack uncomfortably. Claire smears her makeup farther down her face. There is still anger in her eyes and part of it scares him. It was the same anger he had held the first time he laid eyes on Jack.

Part of him wanted to leave him there. Part of him wanted to do what he originally planned when he walked into that house gun in hand, but he knows he never would. Jack wasn't a monster. He wasn't anything more than a baby. He cried and screamed and had the tiniest hands and the bluest eyes and even just looking at him made Dean’s heart soften.

Something like that couldn't be a monster anymore than Sam could, or little Bobby John.

So, instead, he scooped Jack up, the baby's skin burning his own, a tiny handprint searing itself onto the skin of his left forearm.

“He looks like Cas.” Claire laughs, but it sounds more like a sob than anything. Jack seems to quiet as she draws closer, his blue eyes widening as he takes her in. He’s so small in Sam's arms, blinking and whimpering as his crying petered down to nothing.

“Yeah he does.” Dean’s voice is rough as he reaches out to take Jack from Sam’s arms.

Sam is looking at the two of them, his eyes flickering between them as if it was a tennis match, a furrow between his brows. He is probably just as confused as Dean is.

Jack doesn't just stop crying. He either cries so much that he passes out or Dean spends hours with him pressed against the last fading remnants of the handprint, humming and rocking him. To see him just fade off while still awake was damn near a miracle.

Claire collapses in one of the chairs around the radar and holds out her arms expectantly.

“Come on, then.” Dean lets out a huff of laughter, or something as close to it as he's gotten since everything. He moves closer with Jack in his arms and slides him into Claire’s. Jack coos and waves his hands around. It's the uncontrolled movements of a newborn, more of a muscle spasm than anything, and Claire snorts out another little laugh as he accidentally smacks her collarbone.

“He’s so calm.” Sam's voice is awed.

Dean is right there with him, Jack isn't crying, he isn't uncomfortable. For the first time, he seems almost happy. He curls closer to her and lets out the tiniest yawn, his eyes crunching closed. Claire looks mesmerized. She gives Jack her fingers and he wraps his whole hand around them.

“I'm staying.” Claire says suddenly, eyes still locked with Jack’s. She can't seem to look away and neither can he.

“Okay.” And it’s as simple as that.

-

Three days. 84 hours, with no more sleep than a cat nap here and there and yet he still couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Every time he tries, he manages to get five steps away from Jack’s bassinet before he starts to scream and he couldn't exactly sleep with the baby on him, not when he could wake up from a nightmare fighting.

So he wanders the bunker. Up and down through the levels, crisscrossing through the hallways. Jack is tucked up against his shoulder like always. The thumb of the handprint brushes against his cheek in the mockery of a caress. He’s whimpering slightly, but at the very least he hasn’t completely started crying yet.

Dean reaches the kitchen only to find it already occupied. Claire is perched on the counter, a beer in one hand and the other wiping away another round of tears. Dean debates leaving her there, but finds that he can’t.

He’s been there more than a handful of times and during each one he was constantly torn between wanting to be left the fuck alone and wanting someone to notice. He wanted someone to realize that he wasn’t doing okay, to sit there with him as he broke apart. He never wanted to talk, didn’t want to cry in front of them, but realizing that someone cared enough to notice his downward spiral always seemed to help in its own fucked up way.

So, Dean pulls the bottle from her loose fingertips and puts on a pot of coffee. Claire makes grabby-hands at him until he relents, handing over Jack who just coos and twines his hands into her leather jacket. Well, Dean’s leather jacket. The same one she had snagged from his closet not too long ago, as if he wouldn’t notice. Jack immediately falls more silent than he’s been all day, his eyes sliding shut with another yawn that is far too big for his tiny body.

She’s so good with him already, her hands gentle as they shush him.

Claire thinks her hands are made for violence, for torture, for killing, for hunting. She thinks that’s all they’ll ever really be good for. She’s a predator, a soldier, made for a war that she didn’t know existed until it ruined her life. But those hands are also for protecting, for comforting, for saving.

She is good, at her core. Gentle and loving and all of Dean and Cas and Sam and Jody and Donna’s good traits all mixed into one girl who stands before him. A better person than he’ll ever be.

She’s stolen his bad traits too, the same way she stole that jacket. Put it on as a layer of protection against the world. It’s too big for her, doesn’t fit quite right, because it’s not hers and it’s not Dean’s either. It was too big for Dean too when he first put it on 20 years ago and he doesn’t know if he ever actually grew into it, or just thinks he did.

Together, they sit, shoulder to shoulder and don't say anything and that’s enough for the both of them. They drink their coffee until they can blame their shaking hands on that and listen to Jack’s even breathing.

Dean doesn’t move, even as Claire rests her head against his shoulder, the same shoulder Jack does, and he feels the tears soak in.

Four days. 96 hours and Jack finally manages to fall asleep without crying.

-

Nine days.

Nine days and he’s barely surviving. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, he can’t exist without something tearing at him from the inside out. But, he continues on anyway.

So many things he can’t do. So many contradictions that have slowly become his life.

Claire and him have a system. They work like a machine, two parts of the same person. They don’t look at each other, they can’t. Dean sees all the ways she looks like Cas, all the ways she looks like him, and she sees all the ways he’s failed her.

But they work together, anyway, for Jack.

And that scares him too.

It’s hard to see her with him and not see himself reflected back. He was a lot younger when he first had to learn how to change a diaper or make a bottle but she’s still too young to have that responsibility thrown onto her.

Claire takes to it like she takes to everything else: a fake grin that he can spot from a mile away and a sly joke.

She pours formula into the bottle and he gets his bath ready and at night they sit together on the counter and they watch over Jack. On the nights they manage to sleep he can hear her sneak into his room and pass out in the chair closest to Jack’s bassinet. Four hours later, he guides her into the bed and takes up her spot.

It never fails to make him feel like shit when she steals Jack’s from his hands. Makes him feel like John.

Dean doesn’t tell Sam this, but he somehow knows, the same way he always does.

Sam looks at him as he looks at Claire and marches up to him with a furrow in his brow and Dean knows that he’s not going to like whatever comes out of Sam’s mouth next.

“Can we talk?”

“No.” Sam gives him a harsh look and grabs his arm, dragging him out of the room anyway, down the hall and around the corner so their voices won’t travel.

“Sam, I said no.” Dean doesn’t even have the strength to pull his arm out of Sam’s grip, he’s just so tired.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care.” Sam leans against the wall across from him, his hands open by his side, his shoulders slouched. “Look at me, Dean, you need to let Claire help you.”

“I have.”

“No you haven’t.” Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Dean really wants to take a pair of clippers to it. “She helps you, but you don’t let her.”

“Well, maybe it’s because it’s not her responsibility.” Dean crosses his arms, feet squared, even as he sways slightly.

“And it’s somehow yours? Dean, we were all friends with Cas.”

Were, were, were. Past tense, always past tense because Cas is gone. He’s not coming back, he’s ash and bone on a beach 20 hours away, and Dean took a shower but he can still somehow taste it on the back of his throat. His burns sting when he moves his hands. The handprint of his forearm reminds him of the one on his shoulder and he can’t breathe.

“Yes.” Dean chokes out. “Yes. He’s my responsibility and I’m not going to push that onto someone else just because I want to drink or sleep or go on a hunt.”

Dean watches as Sam’s entire face goes blank. He shuts down for a moment before coming back to life all at once, like a computer rebooting itself after it’s been overloaded.

“Dean.” It’s Sam’s turn to choke out the word. “Dean you're not dad.” Dean bolts upright and suddenly wants to punch something. He wants to scream and yell and feel the crunch of wood and bone under his feet.

He doesn’t even have the excuse of the Mark of Cain this time. Just his own shitty emotions getting the better of him.

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Yes we are.” Sam catches Dean's sleeve and Dean nearly socks him on principle. “Dean letting people help you isn't bad, that’s what new parents do. Claire isn’t four, she can choose whether she wants to help or not and right now she wants to help. So let her.”

Dean knows. He knows for as much as Claire acts like him, she isn’t him, but it’s hard to divorce the two ideas when he looks at her everyday and sees a mirror.

She’s been getting more frustrated over the week because Dean won’t let her help. She has to push her way through him in order to do anything useful. Dean can’t stop her from staying awake but he can make sure that he gets everything done before she does so she doesn’t have to.

Dean doesn’t want Claire to feel like she needs to help just because she can calm Jack down. She deserves to have her own life. To go out and hunt and have fun if she wants to and not have to take care of a newborn that is needier than most. But no matter what he does, she’s still right there next to him, trying to help in any way she can.

Dean rips his arm out of Sam’s grip and marches back to where Claire is holding a whimpering Jack. His eyes glow gold ever so often, but she just shushes him with a kiss on the forehead.

Claire already loves that kid. Loves him enough that she would put his life before hers. And you know what? Dean can’t even bring himself to blame her when he made the same choice at four.

Dean collapses into the chair next to her and reaches out to grab him.

“Do you want to go get his bottle ready while I try to keep him settled?” The smile she sends his way is worth more than anything.

-

“So I’ve been trying to find out why you two, in particular, calm Jack down so much.” Sam’s voice echoed through the bunker, breaking the suffocating silence they’ve been in for so long. He stares at the two perched in their usual spot on the counter, a single mug of coffee teetering between them, lipstick smears on one side.

They look like shit.

In sync they give him a raised eyebrow. Claire passes Jack over to Dean, the baby snuffling in his sleep, and snatches the coffee cup from his hand. She makes sure to twist it before taking a drink, lining up with the lipstick mark already there.

“Well back when that whole thing happened like four years back, we found out that angels leave a bit of grace behind.”

No.

“And that handprint was a direct tie from soul to grace.”

No.

“I think he’s reacting to Cas’s grace that remains inside of you. He obviously bonded with Cas before he was even born you remember the park as well as I do. It must calm him down, since Cas isn’t-”

Claire bolts up and Dean sees the coffee cup tip in slow motion, spilling down to the floor with a crash. She’s angry.

She’s so fucking angry it’s like looking in a mirror.

Dean can’t even blame her when she leaves. Walks right out of the kitchen and he can hear the front door slam echoing throughout the entire bunker. He’s just as mad. He wants to rage, he wants to throw the mug against the wall, he wants to scream because Cas left.

He left them with a kid and a piece of himself embedded underneath Dean’s skin that he can never get out. And he left.

He’s gone, turned to ash and dust on the wind and never coming back. No begging and pleading and praying will help them this time. It won’t get him back, it won’t get this piece of Cas under his skin out.

All he gets is the shitty consolation prize of a piece of his best friend's soul under his skin and the grief that keeps him on the teetering edge of insanity. All he gets is his family more broken than before and apparently a connection to a twenty year old who would sooner wish him dead than help her.

All he gets is flashes of something familiar out of the corner of his eye that disappears as soon as he turns and a lingering figure standing behind him in the mirror. Dean has stopped reacting to it. He’s stopped spinning wildly at the sight only to find no one there, he finds he can’t take the disappointment, the heartbreak.

But instead, he chases Claire out the front door, because honestly he can’t take another loss. Not right now.

Jack is still in his arms, working himself up into crying as Claire gets further away.

They catch up to her halfway down the road, her shoulders shaking with the force of holding back her sobs.

“Claire, stop.” Dean calls out and she stops walking but doesn’t turn. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She nearly shouts it, somehow curling in on herself farther. “It’s not okay. It’s always something new and I can’t.”

“Claire-”

“Don’t look at me.” Claire begs and Dean gets it. He does want anyone to see him cry either so he turns around and presses his lips into Jack’s hair.

“I just-” Claire starts and stops like a car sputtering to life and he can hear her growing more frustrated with every breath. “I keep-” Finally she breaks and lunges forward. Dean thinks she’s going to start hitting him again, like the first day she showed up, but she just rests her forehead between his shoulder blades.

“I keep losing everything.” Claire starts. “I lost my dad for a year and then he comes back and I lose him again and this time it’s my fault.” Dean doesn’t interrupt but he wants to tell her it’s okay. That none of this is her fault. That it was his, and Sam’s, and Cas’s but not hers. Never hers. “My dad wanted to protect me so he let Cas in again and now he’s dead and my mom couldn’t even look at me. She blamed me, I could tell. If I had just said no- but, she left too and now she’s dead. And Randy is dead and now Cas is dead too and I keep losing.” She’s sobbing now, her arms tucked up between her chest and Dean’s back. He’s tempted to turn around, but she doesn’t seem to be done.

“Every time I have Jack it’s like suddenly I’m okay, like I’m whole again. I feel like he’s not actually gone, like I’ll turn around and he’ll be there, the stupid look on his face.” She presses closer, and gently knocks her head into his back over and over again. “And now I know it’s not even because of me, I’m not getting better. It’s just this piece of grace still in me that’s making me think that way and I can’t. I just ca-”

“I know.” Dean finally spins and tucks her under his chin. Jack is squished between them, his eyes glowing gold in the fading light of the sun. They’d have to get back inside soon or he’d get cold. But for now, he just holds the two of them close. She tucks herself impossibly closer, her hands gripping the back of his shirt like a lifeline. “Trust me I know. My dad made a deal to protect me and I still haven’t forgiven him to this day, even though I’ve done the same for Sammy more times than I’d like to admit.”

“That guilt never goes away.” He admits, and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. He wishes Charlie where here. She always seemed to know what to do. “You’ll never forget the people who have sacrificed themselves for you. You’ll love them and hate them and want them back and never want to see them again and it’ll always be confusing.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better.” She laughs and it’s one of the best sounds in the world. It makes the knot in Dean’s chest unclench just a fraction so he can laugh back.

“Yeah I am, because we’ll figure it out together. You have us now and if anyone knows about survivors guilt it me and Sam.” Claire let’s out another laugh and Dean presses another kiss to her head before pulling away. “Come on we have to get back inside before it gets too cold for him.” Claire nods and wipes away the majority of her tear tracks before making the same grabby hands she always does.

Dean slides Jack into her arms and pulls her in for another hug.

“Together?” He makes a sweeping gesture back to the bunker and she snorts.

“Together.”

#baby jack truthing #my writing #Dean Winchester #claire novak #sam winchester #widower arc #I had a lot of fun writing this #helped me avoid my micro bio hw lmao #I’ve been thinking of writing the scene where they pick Cas up in this au too but also who knows #I need to write something besides baby jack #I have a problem #my post #ALSO!!! #HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESS!!! #I wish I would have known I could have written or drawn you something special :(

[saturnsummer]

sweet love

They say drunk words are your sober thoughts. Joon Hwi clearly had too many thoughts.

prompted by an anon from this question here! thanks anon!!

notes: hello! back with another fic, this time when joonhwi gets too drunk and spills more than he expects. stay till the end though, i added a little bonus as usual. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! thank you all for your love and support as always! i’ll see you for more next time!

original prompt: I love your fic 🥰 this is so far from canon but a drunk joonhwi being clingy towards sol a is one of my dream scenarios 😚 or the squad catching solhwi being clingy with each other because they were hiding their relationship

words: 3414 words

Joon Hwi was beyond excited everyday when he woke up for school. No, he wasn't excited to get the top grade, neither was he excited to get his essays and reports done. Though he loves the law, he’s sane enough to not love it that much.

Of course, he’s just excited about meeting his girlfriend, Kang Sol.

He never knew how they got together. It was a natural thing, after all. After the whole fiasco with Assemblyman Ko, their relationship suddenly felt a lot closer. They were close to begin with, with their daily studying and lunches and dinners. But something was different after the middle of their second year.

It started out as dinners every night, with or without the study group. Then Sol would be in study group sessions wearing his sweater or hoodies. When Yeseul or Yebeom teased, Sol would always argue to say that it was cold in their copy room and Joon Hwi was just being nice. Joon Hwi would just pretend that ‘sharing sweaters were normal’.

Then one day, as Joon Hwi sent Sol back home to take care of Byeol, they sat side by side in silence. Sol was desperately in need of catching up on her sleep, so the forty minute bus ride served as a quick nap for her. She turned her head to lean on Joon Hwi’s shoulder, resting her head there for her nap. To make things more comfortable, he placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

When they were nearing their stop, Joon Hwi instinctively shook a sleepy Sol up and held her hand as he dragged her out so she wouldn’t miss the stop. Sol doesn’t let go, and neither does Joon Hwi. Only when they reach the start of the alley do they let go of their hands. (Sol insists it’s because she doesn’t want Byeol to know. Joon Hwi thinks it’s because she’s shy.)

When Joon Hwi is at her front door with Sol, they shyly look at each other, the feelings mutual and conveyed with just their eyes. Of course, they are soulmates. They don't need the words to deliver their entire hearts or feelings.

It was always made known from the start to Joon Hwi that Sol was special to him. He has never met someone so persistent, so passionate and so damm beautiful. He had a couple of flings, being the popular smart boy in school, but none of the girls made his heart beat the same way Sol did. None of them made his world stop.

It has been a year since. And things weren’t easy when you tried to hide it. Sol, a student on a scholarship, had better luck being chosen to attend this school than the number of times the couple almost got caught.

In school, they acted normally as classmates and friends. Their study group sensed something different, but they would just deny and pretend. They put on a pretty good act, if they were to say so themselves, having Bokgi convinced that they needed to find Sol a blind date. (Joon Hwi would have spat his water at him like how Professor Yang did at Prosecutor Jin, but he held it in. Five months of hiding couldn’t be wasted now.)

They wanted to tell their friends, they really did. But they wanted to do it after their bar exams. After the weight of the bar has been lifted off will they share their good news. But while hiding a relationship is hard, making time for one was harder. (Arguably, Joon Hwi finds this harder than any exam he took.)

They absolutely found every minute they could to be together. Every hidden staircase was a spot they tried to spend a few minutes to themselves, but even that was difficult. Joon Hwi would remember how Sol would lead him to a hidden staircase far from their hideout, so as to not get walked in by either the professors or their friends. Even in the midst of Joon Hwi pressing Sol against the wall, as they devoured each other’s lips after a whole day of being unable to kiss, they would be interrupted by the sudden doors of the staircase upstairs opening, causing them to fly apart and run out.

The gossip the school carried was insane, and the last thing they wanted was gossip to reach their friends.

They could spend longer moments in the study room in the middle of the nights where they would be alone, as they worked on their cases and work. Occasionally, they shared bunggeoppangs and hotteoks, where they had long kisses tasting of sweet red bean and honey. But too many times Sol found herself shifting from her seat next to Joon Hwi to climbing on top of his lap in a make-out session, as Joon Hwi reached up to remove the highlighter holding her hair. Just as they wanted more, a sudden noise would bring them to attention and frantically, Sol would fall back onto her chair, both of their faces flushed red.

It was just four more months till the graduation ceremony came.

Till the world knows Sol was Joon Hwi’s.

-----

The bar exam went smoothly, as everyone received their results of passing. As a celebration, the boys decided to drink and have a meal apart from their usual delivery. No, it was time for the real deal of barbecues, meat and stews. They decided to even give a call to Seungjae, who graciously accepted their offer despite being so busy with his new son in his life. The study group has met his kid a couple of times, and even babysat a few hours together.

The boys met at a relatively near barbecue place in the heart of Dongdaemun, a location that the boys could easily return back to the dorms and not too far away. They were at an all-you-could-eat place, suitable for their budget so that they didn’t burn a hole in their pockets. Seungjae offered to treat his dongsaengs. After all, passing the bar was no easy feat. But they declined. His presence with them was enough of a gift from him to them.

But what was a dinner without the star, soju?

Joon Hwi prided himself on holding his liquor well. He could easily have a bottle without feeling the buzz. He could have a second without difficulty as well. Surely, he won’t be drunk, right?

Oh, but how wrong he was.

The bottles of soju and beers kept coming, never ending, as BokGi and Yebeom pushed shot after shot to him and themselves. They were surely prepared to get hammered tomorrow and show up to their 10am lecture spinning. Seungjae, having driven, only watched and smiled as he looked at his dongsaengs drink, sipping on his cola.

“Hyung, you sure you don’t have anything on with Sol-A noona? You know, we catch you with her all the time.” Bokgi asks, his face slightly flushed and words a little slurred. Yebeom nods his head, nodding his head in agreement. Joon Hwi only lets himself smile, not saying anything as he shoots back an additional shot of soju.

“Wah, hyung! So you admit it?” Yebeom says, setting down his chopsticks. Jiho stops chewing on his ssam, and looks next to him at Joon Hwi, who just shrugs, a mysterious smile on his face. Seungjae only places more meat on Joon Hwi’s plate.

With a short glance, Yebeom, Jiho and Bokgi’s eyes met. It was long enough for them to get what they were trying to say, but yet short enough for Joon Hwi to not notice the silence.

They weren’t blind to Joon Hwi’s actions. They noticed how Joon Hwi would look at Sol when she’s practicing for a mock trial, and his gentle voice when he would point out things she missed. Jiho, for one, noticed how Joon Hwi would return to the dorm later or look at his phone, smiling like an idiot. When asked, Joon Hwi would either use the excuse that he went out to the city or he was looking at cat videos, which bore Jiho.

But tonight, they were not leaving this place until he spilled his secret.

“Excuse me! Can we get three more portions of samgyeopsal, one more moksal, one dwangjang jjigae, and three more bottles of soju please?” Bokgi politely shouted to the store helper, who readily nodded.

“One more rice, please!” Yebeom added.

And so, with every portion of food, they shot back shot after shot as they feasted on their fresh juicy grilled pork and stew. They were glad that Joon Hwi was slowly slurring his words, because they themselves were barely hanging on.

“Hyung, you can be honest, you know. We won’t say anything about your private life with noona.” Yebeom says, fighting off the buzz and taking a big gulp of water. Joon Hwi, now face flushed bright red, only let out another smile as he laid back on his chair.

“Ah, Sol...” He murmured out loud.

“You know, she’s really touchy when she’s drunk? She likes to cling on to people when she’s drunk. When she’s angry, she pushes people away instead.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. No, this wasn’t Joon Hwi. This was drunk Joon Hwi. The other three immediately perked up hearing this.

“A-Ah, really? How do you know that?” Yebeom prompted, determined to draw out more information.

“Remember the time we were late to Dean Oh’s lecture? We drank that night with Yeseul and Bokgi. She couldn’t stop clinging onto my hoodie after both of them went back. And the other time when she pushed me away after her first year results were out.” Joon Hwi says, the stupid smile still on his face.

“How cute.” He quietly says, eyes closed.

There wasn't a need to know further that their hyung, Han Joon Hwi, had feelings for Kang Sol, the feisty noona.

“Hyung, then why not date her?” Bokgi says, the news keeping him at the end of his seat. Jiho merely sits, ears wide open and ready for any information.

“Date?” Joon Hwi says and lets out a light unmistakable giggle. Oh, he really was drunk now.

“We already are.”

The trio exchange knowing eyes, knowing how their objectives for the night have been accomplished. Seungjae, from the end of the table, merely shakes his head with a smile.

“Hyung, did you know?” Jiho asks. Seungjae nodded.

“They told me. After all, I am no longer a student.” This earned groans from the trio, calling it unfair.

“I miss Sol...” Joon Hwi murmurs, as his drunken state reaches for another shot of soju. Instinctively, Jiho reaches it first and shoves a glass of water in his hand instead. If anything, he was sleeping with this man in the same room. And he was not having his drunken state continue further. After all, they completed their mission for the night.

All that mattered was remembering it the next day.

-----

Sol was in the midst of folding her clothes before her phone rang, distracting her from her music that she had on with her ear pieces. Irritated, she picked up her phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Sol-A? It’s oppa.”

“Seungjae-oppa? Why are you calling so late? Is anything the matter?” She asks, alerted by the sudden call. It was almost midnight, and it was rare for Seungjae to call.

“Ah, no. Nothing is wrong. I’m just at the lobby of the school at the Lady Justice statue with a very drunk Joon Hwi and the rest of the boys. I can’t bring them up myself, especially since I can’t enter the dorms anymore.” Seungjae explains. In the back, Sol can hear a noisy Bokgi and Jiho telling him to shut up.

“Give me five minutes.” She says and hangs up. The urgency in Sol’s voice drew the attention of Sol B, who was ready to get to bed. Sol B only looks at Sol for a moment and Sol just gives a sympathetic smile.

“Could... Could you come with me?” Sol asks nervously. Sol B looks at Sol for a moment before she throws a hoodie on and throws another hoodie to Sol. The last thing they needed was them to be recognised. Seungjae was where he said he would be, with indeed, four grown men, sprawled on the couches. Bokgi, Yebeom and Jiho were at least conscious enough to greet both Sols, but Joon Hwi just had his eyes shut, murmuring incorrigible things.

“Sorry you had to deal with them, oppa. They really owe you a big apology.” Sol apologises for the sake of her boyfriend, and his friends. Seungjae only shakes his head.

“They should enjoy this before they step into the workforce and can’t experience it anymore.” He gives a smile. “Joon Hwi got a little carried away. He might have spilled your relationship.” Sol B was not standing far as she forced Bokgi and the rest upright, but she could clearly hear it.

“I’ll settle it. You should go home now, don’t keep Juyoung-unnie waiting. I’ll get them to their rooms.” She said before making her quick goodbye to Seungjae.

Together, both Sols pushed Bokgi and Yebeom up to their room, half guiding and half carrying the heavy boys to their door. When they were back downstairs, Sol B instinctively grabbed Jiho by his arm and pulled him up.

“Sol B, about what-” Sol was cut off by her roommate.

“I know. Don’t tell anyone yet. But, you know you suck at hiding and lying, don't you?” She says, her head turned back, before turning back to help Jiho back to his room. Sol does all she can to suppress her smile. Even though her roommate is harsh, she could feel the love. Turning around, she faces her drunk boyfriend.

“Joon. Joon Hwi.” Sol shakes gently. Joon Hwi’s lips curl up slightly, as his arms reach up to wrap them around the familiar body he missed. Sol was clingy when she was drunk, but it was the pot calling the kettle black for Joon Hwi. If possible, he was even clingier.

“You need to go up to your room.” She says as she fights away his loose grip and half supports his drunk body to his room.

“I missed you, Sol...” He murmurs, a face turning into a pout. “You know I kept telling them how good a girlfriend you are? How you always got me coffees and made extra ramyeons.”

“And you also told them we are dating?”

“Of course! I want the whole world to know I love you!” Joon Hwi says a little loudly, and she clamps his mouth shut. Oh, he was definitely more than drunk. Joon Hwi’s arms clung onto her waist as she reached his door.

“Go. You can face the mess you made in the morning.” She says. Joon Hwi clings onto her, giving her a sad pout.

“No more goodnight kisses?” He asked, a voice like a child. His eyes were big and round, his mouth downturned slightly like a pout.

Sol couldn’t deny him one, especially when he looked so adorable. Looking around, she made sure the coast was clear before she reached up to let her lips meet his soft ones. He tasted like lingering alcohol and she could taste it, but she couldn’t help but want more of his intoxicating lips on hers. But not today.

Pulling away, he let out a slight whine. But Sol gave him a quick peck.

“You’ll get more, when you get up.” And Sol pushes him into the room, leaving back to her own dorm, knowing that she’ll be faced with a big headache the next morning.

-----

When Joon Hwi is up the next morning, he’s greeted with a Jiho who rubs his eyes and holds his head in his hand. Joon Hwi isn’t sure if he’s spinning or the room is. Or if it is spinning in the first place. Jiho notices he’s up and grunts a good morning, before getting up to get ready.

The memories of last night come back to Joon Hwi in waves as the pieces start slowly fixing themselves together throughout the morning. By the time he’s at his first lecture, his memories have more or less come back.

He’s certain that Sol would be mad. He makes a mental note to send Seungjae an apology and thank you message. Then, he starts making plans to bribe the trio. He knows about Yebeom’s love for candy, so he starts with that. He just needs to think of what brand of sneakers to get for Bokgi. Heck, would bribes even work against them?

But throughout the morning, the boys do nothing to mention anything about last night. They chat about their hangover, how Seungjae is doing well with his new job and the amount of food they ate. No one mentions anything about Joon Hwi, or his words.

Joon Hwi counts himself safe. They must have forgotten, he thinks. He figures it was the best they did. It definitely would save him an earful from Sol and a large headache. During lunch, as they finished their simple meal at the cafeteria of soup, rice and bulgogi, Bokgi is about to clear his tray before he turns to Joon Hwi.

“Oh, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“We remember everything. From the start, to the end.” He says, a teasing grin on his face as he quickly scurries away, not wanting to die before he graduates. Joon Hwi rolls his eyes back and groans.

Well, shit.

-----

bonus:

“Sol B, did you know our roommates are dating?” Jiho asks, his voice slightly slurred as Sol B drags him up the stairs. She gives a nod. Sol B was no idiot to fall for her roommate’s excuses, when her face gave it all away. It was fascinating how the others haven’t noticed. 

“It would be an insult to our careers if we didn't notice the way they looked at their phones.” She sarcastically says. Jiho manages to scoff. Sol B is about to tap Jiho’s key card of their door, but his hand stops hers, as she feels his body right behind his. 

“Well, they haven’t found out about us yet.” Jiho says softly to her, his face nuzzled into her neck, lips brushing her neck as he slowly moves his lips up to her jaw. Sol brings a gentle hand to his cheek, before turning around to face Jiho.

“We’re better actors.” She whispers so soft. Jiho can't tell if it’s the alcohol or him, but all he knows is that Sol B looks so damm perfect with her doe-like eyes, soft pink lips and the way she teases him drives him insane. He wants her, and he wants her now. 

He crashes his lips on hers, wanting to so desperately taste her. It’s been a long day, and he’s never felt so in need. Sol B tastes the lingering alcohol on his lips, but she couldn’t care. She needs him the same way he wants her. Her hands reach up to grab his hair as Jiho’s hands slip under her hoodie, feeling the smooth skin of her waist against his fingers. They know that they are in the middle of the hallway, but, god, it felt so good.

“God, I missed this.” Jiho mumbled, almost growling, against her lips, earning a slight smirk from the younger girl that he could feel. He sucks on her lower lip, earning a soft gasp from the girl as she only kisses him harder. Biting lovingly on her swollen lips, he shifts his attention to her jaw, leaving butterfly kisses and earning a sigh of pleasure from her. 

But it was short lived, as she pulled away. They knew they had to stop, before their secret was revealed, too. Jiho wishes he could bring her into the dorm and continue this session with her. Sol B looks at him lovingly, biting her lip in an attempt to tease. 

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Sol B says, giving him another loving kiss as she leaves for her room and Jiho returns to his, buzzed from the alcohol and the adrenaline rush from his make out session. He inwardly groans, hating how his girlfriend teases him, but also smirks, knowing how to get back at her the next day.

Let’s hope he remembers this.

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