#and cas knows he can't stay here forever

[mitsies]

❊ be sweet - yuuta okkotsu . . there's no love quite like this one.

yuuta okkotsu returns home to the smell of ginger, root vegetables, and spice.

it's your night to cook dinner, and it seems like that's exactly what you've been doing. a pot of unidentifiable, fragrant broth is simmering over the stove. the kitchen is a little bit of a mess; it usually is on your turns to prepare dinner. a slight smile graces yuuta's face as he recalls you explaining it away as part of your 'method.'

you are, however, nowhere to be seen. the living room and kitchen of your shared apartment are recently deserted. you must've been here recently, though, and you should still be close, considering the heat on the stove and a newly lit candle settled on the kitchen counter by a vase of flowers. dropping his bag down in the corner of your shared apartment, yuuta is about to make his way to your bedroom to come look for you when he hears footsteps.

he knows they're yours. there's nothing of yours that he couldn't recognise. he'd know your footsteps anywhere. he'd know the way you exhaled, and he'd know every individual freckle or mole or scab or scar on your body. you're committed to his memory.

you don't notice him at first. instead of coming to greet him like you usually would, he watches as you make your way over to the kitchen from where he stands by the entrance to your shared apartment. you mill about the kitchen, sweeping away some preliminary food scraps— garlic peels, the tops of carrots, onion skins— into your palm, before depositing them into the waste bin. he likes to watch you cook. there's music coming from your phone; it's a song he showed you the other day. you hum along like you've loved it your whole life.

he could probably stay and watch you forever. to yuuta, there is magic in the way you move. pure, utter adoration; that's all he feels for you. but if there's one thing he loves more than simply being around you, it's talking to you, and he can't quite talk to you if you don't know he's there. he calls your name, delighting a little in the way your eyes widen and you swivel to face the direction of his voice almost right away.

"yuuta," you beam. your smile is one that might rival the sun and win. you walk over to him, onion skins still stuck to the palm of your hand, not like you'd notice. taking your boyfriend in an embrace, his hands cradle the back of your head like you're made of precious gemstone. his face is buried in your hair. you smell like root vegetables and home.

"hi," he mumbles into your scalp. you pull away, arms still loosely wrapped around him, and grin. "hi, yuuta. i was just about to call you. how long've you been here?"

"not long."

"good," you reply, finally releasing him and moving back to the kitchen, "dinner's almost ready. i'm trying a new recipe— yuuji told me about it. don't remember what it's called, though."

yuuta follows you, leaning on the counter with his forearms, gaze fixed on you. "it smells good."

"does it? i think i've gone nose blind. all i can smell is onion."

your boyfriend laughs, and you smile. he loves your smile.

a brief silence lapses. it's not uncomfortable, it never is. the sounds of a wooden spoon clanging around a pot and bubbling broth echo through the small kitchen. music still hums from your phone, which now lies discarded and forgotten about next to the candle. he notices the flame flicker a little too close to the flowers next to it. yuuta gingerly shifts the two away and blows the candle out— you'd likely forget to do it later.

the stove clicks as you turn the heat off. "i guess the last thing left to do is let it cool. that might be a while— can you wait?"

yuuta nods. "i need to change anyways."

you turn back to him, nimble fingers tugging at the sleeves of his white jacket. "how was your day?"

it's moments like this where he can forget the world. he can forget the horrors of his career, the tragedy of the world he was unable to save, if only just for a moment. he can chase happiness by its tail. he can find home. there are few things that bring him solace anymore; his friends, the few he can save, and you. he'd always have you. maybe the one person who could fully understand him. the one person he could be honest with.

and he knows he can trust in you. he knows you'll catch him if he falls. so he exhales, and lets himself breathe. "could've gone better."

you frown lightly. taking his face in both hands, you study his expression like you're searching for something. wordlessly, with all the gentleness of a saint, you lower his head into the crook of your neck. he's sure his breath tickles the skin exposed to it, but you're unflinching, unmoving. he feels safer than he ever has, with your hands roaming the planes of his broad back in comforting circles.

"i'm sorry," is all you say. he'll be okay, though. it'd be okay so long as he had you. and he pulls away, and smiles a little, and tells you just that.

he likes the way you look bashful all of a sudden, as if he wasn't yours forever. how long have the two of you known each other now? since he transferred into gojo satoru's class, years ago now. you'd been hesitant like the rest of them at first. but he'd fallen for you— your kindness, your occasional dramatics, your tendency to leave candles unattended near very flammable objects. and somehow, some way, it'd worked out. he used to be so shy, then. timid. he could be sometimes still, but yuuta likes to think that he's grown alongside you. the thought makes him smile. he chases that joy he finds in you. "tell me about your day. i hope you used your first break in forever well."

you give him a teasing, dirty look. "please. of course i did. i'd never choose to go to work."

he laughs again, because it's just so easy to do when he's around you. he loves you more than life, he thinks, as you explain how you and maki got stuck at a train station in kawasaki. while you talk, he picks a piece of vegetable out of your hair. no wonder you were smelling onion everywhere.

yuuta would always be there to look out for you. he'd be there to put out the candles you'd forget about, and clean up your messes, and love you unconditionally, always. and he knows you love him like that, too. you love him in the way you hold his head when he's not feeling his best, and you love him in the way you'd always greet him with a bright smile and a big hug, and you love him in ways he never thought of himself as deserving of.

and it's nights like these, yuuta thinks, that prove that there will be no kind of love to come close to this one.

flowers chosen: jasmine & daisy . . sweet love, amiability & innocence

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #yuuta x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #reader insert #mitsies 5k

[ann-ann-alan]

Angel Dust x Satan!M!Reader

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Word count: ~1.6K

TW: Talk about what Valentino has done to Angel Dust. Angel and Val's extremely toxic relationship.

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Angel's eyes flapped open slowly as the light shined through the curtains of his room at the hotel. For once in his afterlife he felt well rested. He felt so safe and warm cuddling up to his new boyfriend. If only Valentino could be this nice. Valentino. Angel's mind began racing at the thought of his cruel boss, a man that had made him suffer so much, and he would have to go back to him today. Every day until the end of time, or until Angel died. Again.

"Stop thinking about Val." You said as you pat the top of your boyfriend's head. "He's not here. I am. You're safe with me, you know that right?" Angel felt your hands on his face, lightly caressing him, so soft, so caring. "Of course I trust you."

"Good" You kissed him deeply as you swiftly picked him up bridal style. He let out a little squeak at your actions. "Don't worry my little divine being, I won't drop you."

You suddenly turned into a smaller man. A man named Saturn. That's the fake name you had gone for as it was kind of close to your real one. No one could know you were Satan. What would happen if it was revealed that the most powerful of hells beings, second only to Lucifer himself, was staying at a hotel for redemption and was dating a sinner? Hell would be chaos, well, more than it already is anyway.

"I love Saturn and all, but I really wish I could see your real face more often." Angel presses a light kiss to your cheek. "I do too honey, I really wish I could be myself but you know what could happen if people found out about us. It could get real dangerous."

----------------->

You and Angel walked down the steps of the hotel towards the bar where Husk was cleaning glasses.

You and Angel sat on the stools at the bar. As he was rabbling on you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him. His pretty face, beautiful hair, big eyes, and that cute little chest fluff. He was perfect. If only you could truly be with him.

Your train of thought gets interrupted by Angel's phone going off. "Guess I got to get to work." He stared down at his phone sadly, defeated. "Bye Sweetums." He kisses your forehead and heads for the door.

"You really hate Val don't you?" Husk utters, wiping a shot glass down. "What makes you say that?" "Your claws are out and you're ruining my counter." You look down to see both your hands ripping into the counters wood. "Oh sorry. I just- I hate him." Your eyes glowed red. You wished you could rip the head off that disgusting moth. There's nothing wrong with lust (you are good friends with Asmodeus) as long as it's consensual. And Val was anything but.

"Why do you care so much? Angel's just a fling." Husk said starring at your enraged state. "What no! I- well- I- I love him ok?! And I can't keep seeing Val rip my boyfriend apart over and over again!" You love him. You just said it. Husk stared at you with a knowing smirk. "Look, I get you love him and you want to keep him safe but there ain't nothing you can do about a soul contract. He's stuck with Val. Forever." Husk frowned, of course he knew about deals with souls, he made one.

Suddenly an idea comes into your brain. "But what if the contract was broken?" Husk looked at you strangely. "There ain't no way to break a soul contract." "But what is they could be? Would that free him? Would he truly be safe?" You muttered more to yourself then Husk. "Well yeah? But like I said, there ain't no wa-" You put your hand over his mouth. "But what if I could do it? What if I could break the contract?"

"You can't."

"But what if I could?"

"You can't"

"But what if I could?"

"You ca- YOU CAN NOT! Soul contracts don't just break, they just don't. It's better to just give up now."

You could do it. I mean, you're LITERAL SATAN. YOU are the contractor. All soul contracts get run by you. That's your job. You remember when you first came across Angel's contract. You thought nothing of it, just another hopeless sinner who needed a job. Just another hopeless sinner you were now deeply in love with. You could do it. If Valentino willingly showed you Angel's contract, it was over. One touch and the contract would be gone, reduced to ashes and Angel would be free. But everyone would know who you really are. Only one person could break contracts, only one. Satan. Your reputation would be tarnished.

But you would do ANYTHING for the one you love.

----------------->

Angel was tired, he had already filmed three intense scenes and Val only wanted more, just like always.

"Alright my little Angel, you'll be filming one more scene and then you'll come to my office ok?"

Oh god not his office, never his office. Angel couldn't count the amount of unhappy memories he's had in that office. Angel wanted his boyfriend, his real boyfriend, not Val.

"Is there a problem Angel Dust?" Val sneered. "No, no, not at all Val, everything's fine." "Alright then, why wait? Let's go to my office now."

Panic hit Angel like a truck. "Wait now?! I thought I had another scene to film?!" Angel was almost hyperventilating. He couldn't go in there with Val, he couldn't. Not again.

"You said there was no problem. Let's GO!" Val roughly grabs Angels arm and yanks it towards him. "You better behave Ang, you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?" Val looked at him with a disturbing smile. Angel looked into those bright red bug eyes, he was scared, really scared. Scared just like he was when Val made that deal with him.

"Excuse me." Val and Angel looked to the side and found you standing there. "Sata-Saturn what are you doing here?" Angel says. "You know this guy?" Val released Angels wrist and walked towards you. "I'm Val, well you definitely already know me so... Angel said your name was what, Saturn? That's quite a strange name for a sinner." Val held his hand out for you to shake, you just starred at it with your arms crossed. "Well, um, you must be here for a job right? Angel must of told you about me!" Val said as he retracted his hand. "I actually came here because I wanted to take my boyfriend back home."

"What in the hell are you doing?!" Angel whispered to you as he held your arm, almost trying to hide from Val. Valentino noticed this. "Your HIS boyfriend? MY Angels boyfriend? That's a funny joke." Val said almost as a threat, 'it better be a joke.'

"Oh it's no joke. And Angel isn't yours." You stood protectively in front of him. "Oh! But he is. He is MINE. FOREVER." Val says, starting to get angry.

"Baby, you should go..." Angel said from behind you, clutching the back of your shirt with all his hands.

"Yeah, you should listen to him Saturn." Val smirked down at you.

"Let me see it." You utter, holding your hand out in front of you.

"See what?" Val crosses his arms and sneers at you. Looking at you up and down. Judging.

"Let me see the contract that has Angel tied to you. One look at it and I'll leave you alone, forever. You have my word."

Val looks at you suspiciously. "Sure, whatever." He makes the contract apear right in front of you.

You reach out for it and pretend to read over it, but all you could really stare at was the signature at the bottom.

"Well?! Are you happy know? LEAVE!" Val says. He was getting angry. His little play thing had a boyfriend? Who was interrupting his job? What a little BRAT!

"Actually.... I was thinking something a little.... different." Suddenly the contract set ablaze in blue fire, the paper disintegrating.

"WHAT?!?" Val stepped back. HOW?! How was that possible?! How could you do tha- "You're not REALLY named Saturn are you?"

Val could barely get that sentence out before you pushed him to the ground. "You are a pest Valentino. And I'm not afraid to CRUSH you."

Your eyes turned beep red, you gained back your height, long red horns like a ram came out of your head.

"YOU stay AWAY from MY BOYFRIEND! If I EVER see you near him again, you will see the full strength of wrath, you disgusting bug!"

Val stares at you in fear, laying on his elbows, tying to crawl away from you.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't kill 'im baby!" Angel set his hand on your shoulder. Looking back at him all you could see was the man you loved. The FREE man you loved.

"Lets get out of here."

---------------->

"You sure that was a good idea? People know who you are now." Angel said, cuddling into your side as you both sat on the hill of the Hazbin Hotel, looking over the rest of hell.

"That's ok with me. You mean more to me than some stupid reputation I barely cared about in the first place." You pressed both your hands to the sides of his face. "No matter what happens I will always be there with you. Through Earth, Hell, Hay! Even heaven if Charlie's plan works out!" You plant a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you for eternity my darling."

"I love you too big guy."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #x reader #x satan!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x oc #angel dust x reader #angel dust x male reader

[queerstudiesnatural]

dean walks into cas' room one night when he's had enough of pacing in his own room and bursts out "why?"

cas looks up from his book, looks at dean with his eyebrows furrowed and says, "i don't think that was a full sentence."

dean rolls his eyes then shrugs because cas is kinda right, and tries again. "why do you love me?"

cas leans back against the wall behind his bed, which he is sitting on with his legs straight out in front of him, and says quietly, "i've already told you why. do you really need me to give you that whole speech again?" in a tone indicating that he doesn't particularly want to but that he will, if asked.

"no, i mean, how?" dean says. "how can you love me? how can you look past... why don't you... i mean, all i do is mess things up. i'm not good with people, i'm always angry, i- i've caused more than one apocalyptic event. i yell all the time, and i push people away, and i've hurt you so many times, and i- i just don't get it. i don't understand why you don't see that."

"i do see it," cas says calmly. he tilts his head to the side, looking for his words. "i do see all of these things. you are not a perfect man, dean. you can be quite frustrating sometimes. but how much of a hypocrite would i be if i held that against you? i have messed up too, perhaps more than you. i am not good with people either. i have pushed you away many times, not only hurting you, but myself as well. i have stubbornly clung to my need to fix things on my own when i should have trusted you. and you've managed to forgive me every time. can you not see how i can do the same?"

dean's mouth opens and closes a few times, then he says, "but you always had a good reason. you've always been good."

"so have you, dean. every mistake you've made was in an attempt to help someone else. me, on several occasions. you are not the consequences of your actions, dean. you are the intentions behind your actions." after a pause, he adds, "i would say this is why i love you, but i don't think it is. i don't love you because you're good. i love the bad, too. i don't have a reason to love you, i just do."

dean looks at his angel, sitting awkwardly on his unmade bed, his discarded book laying open next to him, its pages folded at an unnatural angle against the mattress, and thinks, it doesn't matter. none of it matters. maybe it did once, maybe it will again. but right now, nothing matters but the joy he feels at having cas here and safe and casually going through his t-shirts any time he needs a change of clothes.

he walks up to the bed and lies down next to cas, his head on cas' stomach, his arms around his waist. "thank you," he whispers, a tear sneaking its way down his nose. "thank you."

he feels a hand land gently on the top of his head, fingers carding through his hair, slowly massaging circles into his scalp. the hand moves in small motions until it reaches his temple, his cheekbone, the hollow of his cheek. it wipes away the tears on dean's skin, and dean only cries harder at the tenderness of it. he grabs the hand and folds cas' arm around him. he intertwines his fingers with cas', taking his time to feel all the points of contact between them. his lips find the back of cas' hand, and with his eyes closed, he says, "i can't quite believe i get to have this yet. i don't know if i will ever truly believe it. but i love you too. i wasn't sure before because, well. i'm me. i'm not good at putting things into words. but i know now. i love you and i'm happier when you're here. i'd like you to stay with me. uh, if you want to, that is. if you want to stay with me then i'm all yours. forever."

he hears a sniff as cas' hand squeezes around his. "yes, dean. that would be nice."

dean falls asleep soon after that, unbothered by nightmares, and when he wakes up a full eight hours later, cas is still warm against him, their hands still intertwined, and in his own heart he feels the noticeable absence of the ever-present flutter of fear.

#hi guess i can't escape the hold destiel has on me no matter how hard i try #rain posts #ficlet #destiel #destiel fic

[hauntedpearl]

because I process everything through dean and cas. i think. i think dean doesn't know what love is really supposed to feel like. the forever kind of love. the kind he thinks cas feels.

i think it felt like heat and hunger when he was twenty three and there was this girl with the dangerous smile and a look in her eyes like she could kick his ass and he better know it. and I think it felt like something that didn't quite fit right but fell across his shoulders all the same when he was with Lisa and he thought, well, it keeps me warm, this, whatever it is. it keeps me happy.

but then there's cas and he can't put his finger on what it is he's supposed to be feeling. and he thinks it should be big. after the dungeon and death and the empty and everything. after. after. he thinks it's supposed to make the world feel different. he thinks it's supposed to do something to his bones, the way cas talks about it. and it doesn't. and dean thinks, maybe, he's not meant for things like this. maybe it's just that he's empty. maybe cas is missing out by choosing him. and it's selfish, but there's something in there, and he can't let go, because it hurts, hurts like a heart attack, and he'd know because he's had a few. and he thinks, whatever it is, this broken, bent, useless thing, it wants him to stay still, for once, and he listens.

and it's the little things, i think. it's how he knows to spear tomatoes off Cas' plate or maybe it's how he knows to make time to tie his tie for him when they go out. how he switches the radio in the car to whatever cas wants to listen to — knows a frown means pop music, and a sleepy heaviness in his eyes calls for the oldies and there, that soft light, that makes dean think of the summer and the sea, that's when he knows to pick his own favourite mixtape.

i think it comes slow, this realisation, that there isn't dean's life anymore, not really. it's deanandcas' life, and they fit together, seamless, and dean's been worried about how he is not enough, but he thinks about how he's slotted into place here, in Cas' arms and his home, and his habits, and he thinks. he thinks maybe that's what it is supposed to feel like. or maybe it's what it feels like to him. and it's not a feeling that lifts his feet off the ground, but it's this soft thing in his chest, something like his mother's hug when he was young, truly young. like watching his infant brother's fingers curling around his pinkie for the first time. like walking into a house and seeing a place where your shoes are supposed to go, putting them there, almost unthinking, your mind already on the food at the table. like the smallest shift in your being. a settling of sorts.

he doesn't think he loves cas like cas loves him, doesn't think he could if he tried. cas' being is the breadth of the world and his love is bigger than that. it's hard to compete with that sort of thing. but dean's heart is full, and he thinks he fits nicely, at the center of it, this big, wonderful, impossible thing. thinks he makes it happy, too. thinks maybe that's kind of the whole point.

#from the drafts #hahaha....*softly* what the fuck #i do not. remember writing this #doe's writing adventures #spn posting #destiel stuff #dean is some flavour of aroace to me #anyway. ANYWAY. I THINK. sometimes you fall in love and it doesn't feel like the movies znd you're like maybe that's sth wrong w me #but maybe love is this big all encompassing blanket snd you're always in it so you don't alwYs notice it big like that ykwim

[dulltoned]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

It's dark. Not in the way that's familiar like the dreary shadows of the bunker. He knows that darkness, those shadows that he wraps himself up in like a blanket. No, rather, it's dark like he's lost. Dark like when he'd wandered into the forest when he was a trolling and he had no one to come look for him so he'd stumbled hopelessly through the pitch black praying that he'd find his way home. It's dark and he can't remember why.

He doesn't call out or feel around for someone else. He's not an idiot. He knows that more likely than not he was alone. He wouldn’t dare alert anything that could be out here. Instead he carefully moves forward, arm extended in front of him in hopes to keep himself from stumbling into anything while his feet silently drag across the floor to prevent himself from tripping. It's slow progress but no matter how far he goes nothing changes. The floor is rough but even beneath him and he doesn't run into anything. Not a wall or a tree or even a table. It's like the world itself has disappeared and left him behind in its shadow.

Despite that he feels strangely calm. There's no panic rushing through his veins or anxiety clogging his mind. He just moves slowly and silently through the darkness like something will change. It doesn't. Not until it does.

A long stretch away a ball of light is birthed into existence. It doesn't come into view or appear from around some invisible corner. It simply just is in the same way that before it simply wasn't. He startles at the small ball of orange and yellow flickering a forever away. At this pace he'll never reach the pinprick of fire dancing slowly closer but he was far too cautious to just make a run for it. The burst of flame was all there was. It didn't illuminate a world he couldn't see. It just sat in the center of the black, its glow absorbed into the vacuum of nothingness that consumed everything.

"Branch?" Poppy? "Branch where are you?" She sounds worried. Scared. There's a tremor in her voice that shouldn't ever be there and it sends a spike of ice through his chest.

"Here!" He calls, looking around frantically like suddenly he'd finally be able to see. Poppy broke his calm. The false sense of ease he'd felt was ripped away from him in a moment and suddenly he could feel his heart pounding a desperate rhythm in his chest and anxiety curled around his ribs and squeezed the air from his lungs. "Poppy, where are you?" He screams into the void but there's nothing there. Nothing but the fire. He throws caution to the wind and runs for it.

"Branch?" She sounds so small, so meek. She sounds so close but she's nowhere to be found. The fire, the light, it's his only hope. "Branch!"

"I'm coming!" He's trying, please, he's trying. "Just stay where you are!" She doesn't respond, just sobs, and he can't breathe. She's crying, she's scared, he can't find her. He's supposed to protect her. He's getting closer. The small speck of light is growing alarmingly fast. The fire has to be gigantic, a large ball of flame at least four times the size of him. "Poppy, please." He begs. He's still not close enough. He's still too far.

"Branch?" His heart stutters and stops and lurches into his throat. That's not fair, this isn't fair-- "I don't know where I am." Floyd. Floyd's here. Why are they here? Where are they? What is this?

"I'm coming," He swears. He's getting closer, the fire is almost as bright as the sun and somehow there's still nothing but darkness. There's no warmth, no heat, only all-consuming shadow. He feels the weight of it now. It presses in on him and slows him down. "Just wait for me."

"You're taking too long," John Dory. No. No no. He's coming. He's moving as fast as he can. "We can't wait forever." His voice is unsteady, eager to escape the unknown that makes him uncomfortable. The knee-jerk reaction to get away before something terrible could catch up to him.

"I'm almost there," He promises. He lies. He doesn't know where they are. He doesn’t know where he is, either. He can't lose them. He can't lose her. "Just wait for me."

"We're waiting," Bruce's soothing voice cuts in. He sounds sad. Patient and bittersweet and it feels dismissive.

They're lost. They're scared. They're asking for him, searching for him, and he can't find them. The fire is there. It's right there. It's the only beacon in this terrible, vacant nothingness. He's getting close enough that he can see it's raised high in the air. He has to look up now to keep it in his sight.

"Come on, Branch, you can do this," Clay urges, using his anxiety to fuel his support. He can imagine the green-haired troll wringing his hands together and he wishes that he could see it. He wants to see them. Please. He can find them, he can do this, please--

The ball of light is directly above him now and he cranes his neck to look up at it. "I'm here," he breathes, panting less from exertion and more from the weight of emotion crushing his chest.

"Branch?" Poppy whimpers. The light goes out and he's plunged into the suffocating nothing--

Branch jerks awake, eyes snapping open as he scrambles up against his headboard. His chest is heaving with each breath and panic courses cold through his veins. A dream. Of course it was just a dream, it was unrealistic and ridiculous and… haunting. It couldn't have been anything other than a nightmare but he can still hear the tremor in Poppy's voice and JD's false bravado and when he looks down at his paws cupped in his lap he can see them shaking even in the low light. Damn it. He really figured he'd be better by now. At least about this. He'd been riddled with nightmares most of his life, ever since Grandma Rosiepuff died, but he'd gotten better after he got his colors back. Until his brothers started staying with him at least.

The dreams had started back up with a vengeance after that. Some of them were completely unrelated, the Bergens betraying them or Poppy's bubbly friends ridiculing him again, but some of them hammered home just how deep his issues ran. Sometimes it was his brothers sitting him down and explaining in painful detail how the band breaking up had been his fault. Other times it was waking up to the bunker empty and all of his brothers nowhere to be found. Every once in a while the dreams would twist and morph into something unreal but no less painful, like it had tonight. Usually those ones are easier to brush off. They should be easy to pick apart and see for what they were: fake. He couldn't make rhyme or reason of the nightmare that's left him drenched in sweat and trembling like a leaf in his bed. It's infuriating that something so fantastical could shake him to his core. Sitting here alone in his room he can admit to himself that he was still scared. The terror lingered heavy over his head and he pressed his back harder against the headboard like it could protect him from some unknown evil trying to sneak up on him. He felt pitifully unsafe in his own home and the shadows he usually found soothing were quickly becoming oppressive.

Branch leaped from his bed and turned on his bedside lamp, taking a few grounding breaths when the warm glow gently spread across the room. He needed to calm down. He was fine. The others were fine. With the darkness pushed away he feels a little more at ease but his chest still feels tight and there's still a chill between his shoulder blades. He's still pitifully, achingly afraid.

Running a hand down his face and counting slowly to ten in his head he makes for the door. Always, without fail, he was the last up and the first awake. He hated the idea of being caught off guard, especially in his own home, and the constant hypervigilance kept him up and focused until he just couldn't be anymore. Ever since his brothers came back into his life he'd gotten maybe five hours of sleep every night, rarely uninterrupted. He didn't mind the routine but there was an exhaustion in his day-to-day that hadn't been there before. It was starting to catch up to him, his energy and focus were waning more often than not, but at least he knew with a fair amount of certainty that no one else was awake at this hour.

He steps silently out into the open space of the bunker and moves swiftly towards the stairs. He doesn't want to make any noise and wake anyone up so he avoids both the elevator and the lights despite how his anxious mind insists that the darkness is nipping at his heels, eagerly reaching out to drag him away from the light--

He makes it to the kitchen faster than he should have.

He speed walks down the hallway and flips on the light the second he crosses the threshold, bracing his hands on the table the moment he's close enough and just taking a few minutes to breathe. His whole body is wracked with fine tremors and his knees feel weak. You're fine, He seethes to himself, Get it together. His heart is racing beneath his ribs and he feels like it's only moments away from bursting. He pries his fingers off the edge of the table and forces himself to take measured steps over to his fridge. You're fine, he insists as he sifts through the bottles and jars tucked into the fridge door, You're fine, he chants as he selects a bottle of homemade strawberry milk Poppy had gifted him.

He lets the fridge door swing shut behind him and turns on his heel to grab a mug from the cupboard. He pointedly ignores how the bottle visibly shakes in his grip and grits his teeth when his fingers clumsily miss the handle of the mug the first few times he tries to grab it. His heart stutters and stops and aches sharply and he's fine. He snatches the cup with a violent anger that's stirring to life deep in his stomach and slams it onto the counter. Immediately he winces, cringing at the loud sound that echoes ruthlessly through the space, and when he places the bottle down beside the mug it's with a much lighter hand. He goes through the motions subconsciously, grabbing a small pot from a cabinet and pouring a generous amount of milk into it before placing it on the stove. He barely even registers that he's turned the stove on, staring blankly into his empty cup and wondering if it would be overstepping some unspoken boundary if he were to show up at Poppy's pod right now. Maybe, if he was quiet enough, he could slip unnoticed into his brothers' rooms and make sure that they were okay. Assure himself that, against all odds, they were still here. He knows it's a ridiculous fear, they were adults and they all seemed fairly happy with the arrangement, but a small part of him pleads with him to check anyway. A terrifying what-if that persists despite his best efforts to squash it with logical thinking.

He startles from his stupor when the milk boils over, hissing and spitting when the liquid dribbles into the flame. He scrambles to turn off the stove and pull the pot away from the heat, sucking in a sharp breath when the milk almost sloshes over the side in his rush to avoid making a bigger mess. Like he hadn't already been on edge before. He quickly goes about pouring his drink into his cup and setting the pot into the empty sink to cool. Haphazard clean-up complete he gently cradles his warm drink in his hands. Immediately the warmth seeping from the mug begins to soothe his nerves and a trembling sigh falls from his lips. It's a small comfort, one that does very little to calm his heart or stop the tremors wracking his body, but he's never been one to take the small things for granted. He hadn't been for a long, long time.

You're fine, he closes his eyes, focusing on the weight of the mug in his paws. You're fine, you're fine, you're fine, he chants it like a mantra inside his head. The shaking doesn't lessen. His chest still aches. He still feels like he can barely breathe and his heart is desperate to escape. You're fine, he tries in vain to convince himself, messily leaning back against the counter and sliding down until he's curled up on the floor. You're fine. They're fine, it was just a stupid dream. Nothing happened, no one left, they're all still here, His thoughts sound desperate even to himself, he knows that he's working himself up but he's helpless to stop himself from spiraling.

He sets the mug aside before he spills the scalding drink and instead wraps his arms tight around himself, drawing his legs up to his chest and burying his face into his knees. "You're okay," He chokes out just to fill the silence. His voice is strained and choked and his breath is warm against his face, "You're okay." It sounds like an empty promise, one he's tried to keep for decades. He thought he'd gotten better. Maybe he had just gotten better at fooling himself. He sobs, clenching his jaw in a futile attempt to keep his cries at bay. His eyes burn and he squeezes them shut like that would make the tears go away. "You're okay," He pleads, arms tightening around himself in a poor imitation of a hug. What's wrong with him? Why is he like this? It was just a dream, he knows that!

Another cry bursts from his lips and he gives in. He shakes apart on the kitchen floor, muffles whimpers into his arms and jerks with silent, full-body sobs that leave him gasping for air. He tugs at his hair and bites his lips to keep quiet and he falls apart because he can't possibly keep himself together anymore. Instead of some sort of catharsis, he only feels worse. He feels tired and broken and still so agonizingly frightened. He feels like he's lost himself to these empty rooms, like they've gutted him and left him hollow and alone. He cries and cries and cries and all he feels is empty and haunted. Alone, the way he's always been. Branch doesn't move for a long, long time. When he finally uncurls and peels himself off the floor he picks up his mug long gone cold and dumps the milk down the drain.  

#| Game Plans | #{ isolationist } #trolls fanfic #trolls band together #trolls branch #dreamworks trolls #angst #hurt/comfort

[shallowseeker]

It's my fault. I let my guard down. But it's your fault, too. It's on US. And it...it's more your fault than the others, because--

///

I kinda lost my big Dean farewell tour meta, but I still stand by the fact that Dean's decision not to go into the Mal'ak box was very much based on multiple people's support (Sam, Mary, Cas, Jack). That said, it was so so so conspicuous that he actively avoided Cas and Jack the most.

When Cas cornered him in Prophet and Loss things got, "an awkward beat / So this is goodbye?"...weird fast.

via @spnscripthunt

///

In Ouroboros, all Cas has to do is catch Dean's eyes, and he just...falls right open. It's very clear that Cas's opinion on the matter is a quiet, powerful unsaid-thing.

Cas's hope is important here. More important than perhaps ANYONE is willing to admit. When he reassures Dean, Dean feels more at ease. More hopeful. And with most hopeful things, it feels a long way down when you fall from it.

///

(Aside///Love how Dean throws Cas this cheeky little smile and Cas glares at him btw.)

///

Later, when Dean wakes up after his injury, yes he's talking to all of TFW, of course he is. (He's talking to his brother, his best friend, his foster son.)

Here we have Dean lamenting that, like the chicken in Noah's story, he let his guard down, and now the snake is loose in the bunker.

///

And here, we have such a subtle thing. The first of many cracks. Cas jumps in to talk to him, and Dean immediately fires back. He's reacting to Cas.

The camera focuses on Sam, gets Sam's reaction. But Dean? Dean's squared up to Cas. He's invoking his fresh conversation with Cas in the diner.

Cas is holding Dean's gaze evenly, and they're assuming their usual battle positions. Sam holds up his hands like he's getting between them, de-escalating the thing between them on gut instinct.

(it reminds me of this one)

Already, there's an insidious, human emotion seeming to take hold. Or at least, the seeds of it.

Somewhere deep is the burgeoning blame Dean's going to eventually put on Cas -> putting on him "the things he can't take," expecting him to protect everyone from everything, to be safe and keep them all safe.

("It's your fault I stayed. Because I stayed, [OMITTED, people I loved died]. It's more your fault than the others.")

But why is it more Cas's fault? Why is the reaction so outsized in Dean?

He doesn't just blame Cas for Mary, for the loss of Jack's soul that lead up to it. (Cas was supposed to succeed where John failed.)

He blames Cas for being a big part of why Dean wanted to stay in the first place. Cas made Dean want things.

And Dean's historic willingness to sacrifice himself is built on not wanting things for himself.

///

Heroes die.

JOHN E. WINCHESTER 1954-2006 LOVING HUSBAND & FATHER REMEMBERED FOREVER DEAN: It's like my old life is, is coming after me or something. Like it like it doesn't want me to be happy. Course I know what you'd say.,,, So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? (begins to cry while talking) What about us, huh? What, Mom's not supposed to live her life, Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? (pause) It's... (Dean's lips tremble. Silence. We hear the sky rumbling. Tears begins to falls on DEAN's cheek.)

2x20

When Dean was willing to blow himself up in season 11, he was rewarded with his Mom coming back. When he wasn't willing to do it in season 14, his son stepped in to do it for him, losing his soul in the process and leading directly to the death of Mary. How horrible.

#wanting things #dean and wanting #the blame game #spn absense #spn game night #spn the trap #spn ouroboros #on heroes

[bisaster-energy]

Suptober 2023 Day 7: Black Cat

haha this was posted on the right day i'm not late what are you talking about...

anyway here's my contribution to this year's Suptober! I had a lot of fun writing again lol

Title is the link to ao3.

Summary and Excerpt below the cut!

Title: Cattus ex Machina

Summary:

"It's a game we play. She...hates cats and tries to keep me out. But she can't, of course. I come and go as I please." - Cat, Coraline (2009).

Dean can't move on. He's not even sure he wants to. His family and friends are all worried about him, he knows. But he can't seem to bring himself to be fine. Hell, he can't even make himself voice his inability to be fine. The most he can manage is to stay alive, to make it so the sacrifices weren't all for nothing. So he takes life each day at a time, never daring to think farther ahead than that. He doesn't have the right to think about the future. His future died in that dungeon with Cas.

Dean's willing to soldier on like this forever, as miserable as it is. But then he comes across a cat. Or rather, a cat comes across him. He's pretty damn lucky it did.

Excerpt:

The Empty wasn't a thing meant to be seen. It wasn’t meant to welcome the eyes of any creature, whatever they may be. The Empty is a place for quiet. For dark. Nothing but blissful, blissful sleep. Everyone held here lies in slumber, for residence here means they must’ve fulfilled their purpose, and so the Shadow will fulfill its own by keeping them where they belong. Angel and demon alike, they’re all the same to this place. Just occupants of this wonderfully silent void, never to disturb or be disturbed.

There was one…one got away, didn’t he?

With an unsettling gurgle of sorts the entity dismisses the thought. That hardly matters now. All Castiel did was delay the inevitable, making things worse for himself in the end. Because he had to go and make things difficult, the angel was being sufficiently punished. Once the Shadow is able to put the stragglers back to sleep, all will be as it should be. If it was holding physical form, the Shadow would surely be smirking triumphantly; truly the cat who caught the canary at long last.

The Shadow has never seen a cat. Perhaps that’s how one was able to slip in so easily. Cats can be so quiet after all. And the Empty has no reason to interfere when things are quiet.

#suptober23 #day 7: black cat #destiel #destiel fanfic #cee's writing #pspspsps come here i wont make out with u if u read my fic i promise...

[markofcastiel]

The Plan

Relationship: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Cas has been his best friend since they were eight. But now they're both applying for universities and Dean is more anxious than he wants to admit.

Tags: fluff, first kiss, self-esteem issues

"If you get accepted to all of them, which one are you gonna pick?"

"I dunno, Sammy!" Dean snaps, closing the book in front of him with more force than necessary. The pencil that Dean had been anxiously chewing on just seconds ago rolls off the desk with the vibration, and lands on the hardwood floors with a clack.

"I'm so sick of everyone pressuring me for answers!"

"Dude... it was just a question..."

His baby brother is getting bigger and bigger. He's nearly Dean's size now and shows no signs of stopping his growth spurt. But in moments like these Sammy can still pull off a face that reminds Dean that he's just a gangly 14 year old kid - with huge puppy eyes and a sad retriever look. Dean would calm down and apologize for snapping if he wasn't so riled up:

"Not when you're the third person asking me that today. Just lay off my back already!"

Sam raises his brows high, and his lips quirk in the way they do when he's preparing a comeback.

"Touchy~~"

"Bitch."

"Moooooom, Dean called me a bitch..."

"You-"

Mary's voice reaches in from the hallway almost instantly: "Dean, language!!"

Sam sticks his tongue out, grins triumphantly, and then whispers "jerk" before running back to his room.

Freaking Sammy...

"At the risk of being the fourth to ask..."

His best friend speaks up from behind him, letting the sentence linger in the air unfinished. Dean turns around in his chair to see Cas sprawled across his bed, calmly observing him. He has a book open in front of him, but it's upside down so Dean's pretty sure he wasn't really studying.

"I do wonder the same, Dean."

"Not you too, man."

"I'm just curious."

"Look... I don't know, Cas."

Dean sighs, and finally decides to give up on studying, since his mind is too far gone.

His room is not so big, so when he stretches his leg, it actually reaches the bed. He uses this fact to his advantage, one foot pushing insistently at Castiel's thigh in a silent demand for him to move. It works, effectively making his best friend sit up and scooch over enough so that Dean can also sit down on the cushy mattress.

Even though there was more than enough space to leave a few inches between them, they end up squished right against each other. But Cas doesn't complain, so Dean lets his head drop onto his best friend's shoulder, and closes his eyes for a brief moment, trying to chase away the worry bubbling inside. His brain keeps racing around, thinking about the future and how everything seems so scary and uncertain. He still feels like a kid but he has to make all these grown up decisions and move away from everyone he loves.

It doesn't really seem fair.

"Can't I just stay here forever?"

Although Cas doesn't answer, he reaches out, sensing Dean's distress. His hand finds Dean's nape, and starts stroking tenderly along Dean's spine, soothing all the muscles down its path. Dean just leans into the touch and sighs again, now a happier sound.

Cas has a way of always feeling like sunshine, peeking through even on the cloudiest days. Dean basks in the attention, and lets go of the worries for a moment, just focusing on the warmth of Castiel's hand, and the way Cas' breath ghosts against his hair. He thinks he feels Castiel kissing the top of his head, a feathery touch, barely there - but maybe he was just imagining it. After a few moments of silence, Dean finally allows himself to ask:

"What 'bout you, Cas? You never told me which university you decided on."

The soothing hand leaves Dean's back and he instantly misses the contact. Cas stares at him silently, and it's only when Dean rights himself up and looks back, raising a brow in question that Cas replies, with a mysterious finality to his tone.

"I don't know yet."

"What? Really? You don't know?"

Cas simply shrugs. He's suddenly very interested in the book in front of him - it seems he finally notices that it is upside down and his hands fumble to turn it around.

"Oh..." Dean is surprised, to say the least.

His best friend is always so sure of himself, so certain of the path that has to be taken to succeed in life. When they started highschool Cas had already picked all his classes before Dean could even decide on one. So Dean wasn't expecting an 'I don't know'. If anything, Dean was expecting a bullet list of next steps and timelines to achieve his life goals or something geeky like that.

"Ok," Dean mumbles out, slightly dazed, before turning even more interested. He can't believe he never asked:

"Huh... which universities did you apply to?"

Blue eyes snap back up, meeting his.

There's a weird sort of tension in the air until Cas finally answers.

"MIT, Caltech and KU."

"What?! Are you serious?"

Dean turns to face Cas fully, the ecstasy obvious in his eyes. He grabs Castiel's knees and squeezes.

"Those are exactly the same ones I applied to! Dudeeee, that's such a coincidence - it would be awesome if we ended up in the same one!"

Dean rambles excitedly, not noticing the calculated gaze on his best friend's eyes.

"This is the best news I've heard all year, Cas - I freaking LOVE you!"

He throws his arm around Cas, squishing him tight and kissing his cheek like crazy, forgetting that wasn't a normal thing best friends do.

"And with your big brain I'm sure you are gonna get into all of them, Cas!"

Cas huffs out a small laugh, his eyes crinkling softly at Dean's excitement. But his smile fades away when Dean's face darkens. He slowly releases his grip on Cas, and Cas knows what's coming before Dean even starts.

"Me, on the other hand... I mean... what if I don't get into any of them?"

"Dean."

Cas sounds tired beyond his years, as if he hasn't just turned 18, but instead has lived centuries watching the Earth turn on its axis.

"Dean, look at me."

Dean complies, though he's not sure why. Emboldened, Cas barrels on, confident and unwavering:

"You're one of the brightest people I have ever known."

"No, I'm not," Dean scoffs.

Cas squints, and his head tilts.

"You do realize that your GPA disagrees?"

"You're one to talk, Cas... you have 5.0 GPA! And I'm pretty sure the only reason you don't have higher is because you were afraid the teachers thought it was too good to be true."

"I like Advanced Placement classes..."

"Yeah, well. You're basically a superhuman genius or something."

"Hmm... in that case perhaps you should listen to me when I say you'll get into all of the universities you applied to."

Dean rolls his eyes, but Cas persists:

"My GPA is not the point, Dean. I'm not the one who secretly thinks I'm dumb, despite being elected Valedictorian and having the second highest GPA in our entire school, and likely one of the highest in the country for our year."

"I was only chosen as Valedictorian cus everyone knows you suck at speeches, Cas! You'd probably just get up there and give a one-liner about how 'we're all people trying their best in a world where it's easy to do your worst' and then end with a weird goat joke that no one gets."

"That was my speech in middle school."

"Exactly!"

"The joke just didn't translate well. It was funnier in the original language."

Dean roars with laughter, and then slaps Cas in the back.

"And that is why I am Valedictorian, buddy."

Cas looks slightly uncomfortable, but it just makes Dean laugh harder. He's clearly imagining a myriad of terrible speeches that some imaginary Castiel would do. When he finally comes down from his high, he wipes the corner of his eyes, and shakes his head.

"Man... I'm gonna miss you too much if we don't end up in the same uni..."

Cas awkwardly looks away.

"Why didn't you pick one yet anyway? Knowing you, I thought you already had a whole grand plan in mind," Dean pries, curious. Cas remains quiet, staring a hole into a spot on the wall. Dean can tell when his best friend is holding something back. Dean bumps his knee against him, and insists.

"What is it, Cas?"

Cas chances a look, and quickly caves in as soon as he sees the bright green eyes staring up at him.

"I'm waiting."

"Really? What for?"

Cas looks away again, cheeks slightly tinged in pink. If Dean didn't know him so well, he would say Cas was embarrassed. But Cas was never embarrassed, so he must be imagining it. When Cas seems to stall, Dean pushes again.

"What are you waiting for, buddy?"

"You didn't pick yet."

"Ok..."

Dean scrunches his nose.

"What does that have to do with it?"

Cas looks back at him, annoyed.

"What?"

"You didn't pick yet," Cas repeats slowly, as if somehow that explains everything. Dean just makes another face, even more confused.

"So what? It's not like you're planning to follow me into whatever university I-"

Cas looks at him meaningfully.

Wait. What?

Dean can feel himself turn red and redder, all the way up to his ears. No. No way. Was Cas really waiting for him to choose just so he could go to the same one???

"Yes, so..." Cas confirms his unspoken question, closing the book in front of him, "please hurry up, Dean. Your indecision is interfering with my plan."

"Your... plan?"

And that's when Cas pulls out a bullet list of his life goals - Dean was right, he does have one - and hands it over.

"I was supposed to be at step number 7 already, which is getting an apartment for us near the campus. But if you don't pick a university I can't start on that one."

"Cas."

"Yes?"

"Did you seriously put 'Marry Dean Winchester' as bullet point number 20?"

"Well, 18 is too early, and 22 seems too late. I think bullet point 20 is the perfect balance."

"Cas..."

"Yes?"

"We're not even dating yet."

"Of course not," Cas says with some exasperation, pointing at number 10 on the list, "that's only after step 8 and 9, Dean, since we will be much more emotionally mature."

Dean smiles, a silly, huge grin and shakes his head. Well, he was never one to follow grand plans and by led by other people's rules so he cradles Cas' face between his palms, leans in and kisses that stupid look off of his best friend's face.

Cas squirms under him, a delightful surprised hitch leaving his mouth, but ends up clinging to his leather jacket like there's no tomorrow. When Dean finally pulls away he marvels at his best friend's spit-slick lips, and the way that dark hair got all ruffled up, making Cas impossibly sexier.

"So," Dean chirps cheerfully, the future suddenly seeming much more exciting.

"Which university are we going to?"

Cas doesn't answer, just pulls him back in for another kiss, and then another. They only stop to come up for air, and even then they're both smiling wide, breaths ragged and hearts beating fast.

"What about th-"

Oh god,

Cas started kissing up his jaw, and somehow Dean's jacket found its way the floor.

"-C-Cas, w-wha- t-the plan?"

"Mmm," Cas mumbles between kisses, and then his tongue darts out to lick a line behind Dean's ear, making Dean shiver and fall apart with a whimper.

"Changed my mind."

"Hell yea-"

"Boys."

The voice suddenly startles them both apart, and they turn at the speed of light to find Mary Winchester at the entrance of Dean's bedroom, staring past the -very open- door. Dean can't believe he was this freaking stupid, and he can feel his heart hammer anxiously in his chest.

"Mom, it's - it's not what it looks like-"

Mary rolls her eyes.

"Oh really? 'Cus it looks like you knuckleheads finally realized you're made for each other. I could power a town with the stares you two have been throwing at each other for the last ten years."

"M-mom," Dean mumbles.

"Now, hands off each other and come help me with dinner. I think I burned the rice again..."

---

"MIT."

Dean blurs out right in the middle of dinner. All the eyes lift off of busy plates full of food, staring up at him, waiting for more explanation. Dean squeezes Cas' hand a bit tighter below the table before clearing his throat and trying again:

"We decided on MIT."

His family cheers, rushing to congratulate him. Sammy however, asks all too eagerly:

"We? Are you both going to the same one?"

Dean blushes, suddenly nervous, "y-yeah."

John groans, making Dean practically jump out of his skin, heart hammering on his chest. But then his little brother's voice raises over the sound:

"Called it," Sammy announces, and shoves an open palm in front of their father, "pay up old man!"

John reluctantly pulls out 50 dollars, just as Mary smacks both of them on the back of their heads, clearly displeased with whatever just transpired.

Dean stares at his father like he just grew an extra head but John just slowly chews at his food, and doesn't provide any additional explanation.

"I'm happy to hear that, baby," Mary says gently, looking genuinely pleased. She proceeds to elbow John, and the man finally seems to realize he should say something.

"Yeah. Good for you, son. You take good care of each other, you hear? Keep your noses outta trouble."

Dean blushes and nods furiously, the words of his father always his gospel.

Cas, in the meantime, is far too focused on scribbling all over his (now slightly crumpled) piece of paper. It seems 'Marry Dean Winchester' is now circled extra hard, and has been moved up a few steps on The Plan.

Dean ducks his head and smiles, shy and proud. Yep, it's still gonna be scary moving away from his mom and dad and he's gonna miss the hell out of his lil brother.

But he's got Cas.

Whatever happens, they're gonna be alright.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #ok this one had to be sweet and fluffy since the other one was so dark haha #my writing #in which John Winchester is not a complete asshole for once #also Mary #look i just want dean to be happy and loved

[profoundbondfanfic]

Third day of sharing our favorite aro/ace/demi fics!

Part 5

Triquetra by Ltleflrt [Explicit, 46K, Demi!Cas]

In a world where magic is common, there is an institution known simply as The University. It has the best teachers, the best library, and the best location no knows where. But that's what the portals are for, anyway. Teacher Jimmy Novak, and Head Archivist Castiel Novak, have a unique relationship that is generally tolerated by staff and students, minus a cruel word of gossip or two. Otherwise, life is easy, work is fulfilling, and their world is quiet. Only the students change, and that's fine. Until Dean Winchester joins the faculty and everything else changes.

Still Falling For You by Casloveshisfreckles [Mature, 35K, Demi!Dean]

When Dean and Cas find themselves sitting across from one another in their crowded college library, awkward silence and stolen glances follow. Eventually, strangers become friends who become best friends. But what happens when the years pass and the miles between you grow, yet so does your (not-at-all-platonic) love for your best friend? Are you doomed to pine forever, stuck in an endless heartache? Or do you risk it all for a chance at something more? Because even after everything… you’re still falling for him.

The Truth (And Dry Kisses and Unbeating Hearts) by broken_ankle [Teen, 15,7K, Aro!Dean]

Cas is dead. Dean doesn't take it well. Cas is back. Dean isn't taking it well, but at least he's trying. Cas offers a relationship and, well, of course Dean takes it.

Wants and Needs by Castielslostwings [Mature, 6,4K, Aro&Demi!Dean, Ace!Cas]

From a prompt in the Destiel Port FB Group! "Asexual Incubus!Cas and Demisexual Vamp!Dean" Asexual!Incubus!Cas who has to have sex to feed to stay alive and has always resented it, until he meets Demi!vampire!Dean and discovers that being fed on… actually turns him on, and makes feeding not feel miserable for the first time ever. Imagine Ace!incubus!Cas starving for a long time because he can't stomach the thought of having sex, and then here comes Demi!vamp!Dean feeding on Cas, giving him gratification he thought can only be gained from having sex. And, you know, they live happily ever after.

Partnered by K_K_TiBal [Teen, 28K, Aro!Dean, Demi!Cas]

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant. Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners. But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lover by casbean [Explicit, 27K, Ace!Cas]

Dean knows that Cas doesn't like him. They're not even friends, not really. But Dean can't help it, he wants to be around Cas, he wants to be his friends, he wants… more. But he has to respect that Cas is just not interested. It's not until Cas gets into the first heat of his life in front of him that Dean is faced with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Cas doesn't hate him at all.

#destiel #group rec #ace week #ace!dean #ace!castiel

[castieldelamancha]

Castiel doesn't know much about comforting humans, specially in a physical way. Not like he would ever do something like hugging Dean, that's a comforting gesture he has seen humans do for eons, but he doesn't think Dean, not now in his desperation, or in any other moment really, would appreciate Castiel making him participant of what he would claim is a cheesy emotional moment. He simply sits down next to him, on the steps to Bobby's porch and offers him the beer Bobby told Castiel was for Dean. Dean takes it but doesn't say anything, he doesn't take a sip either, he stares down at it and, for a moment, Castiel believes he is going to smash it on the ground.

"This will never be over, Cas." He says, quietly.

Castiel doesn't know what to say to that. He could agree, add his own hopelessness to the one Dean is feeling, create an ugly monster that will take away what little light the future ahead seems to have in store for them. He could try and give Dean some encouraging words. But he isn't good with those, he isn't good at lying either.

He stares at Dean and, while doing so, he spreads his wings, slowly. Dean can't see them, can't feel them, but Castiel lets one of them rest over his shoulders, covering him gently. The other one bends forwards in front of them, as to shield them from the world, from prying even, from any harm waiting for them out there.

"You are tired," he states, "but we have to keep trying." Dean, almost imperceptibly, moves closer to him. He drinks some beer.

"I guess so."

.

Castiel hugs back, just as tightly as Dean is holding him, he unfurls his wings and they wrap themselves around Dean too, the touch and sight of them invisible to the human eye, but he can feel Dean's soul rejoicing at their embrace. Their reunion, their forgiveness. His wings aren't as glorious as they used to be when he first started using them to hold Dean close, in a way that is selfish in a way that would probably have Dean upset with him if he knew what Castiel is doing. They are tired and wounded, missing feathers here and there, full of scars and missing their original strength, the brightness of what used to be their rich dark blue color.

But they still allow him such a tender gesture as this one, a quiet confession of love that he can afford, a well-kept secret.

Castiel can't wait to get out of here, Purgatory a hostile land full of dangers, not like the world waiting for them out there is any better.

He also wants this moment, their embrace, to last forever. His feathers touch Dean's face gently, as if they were hands cradling it lovingly, his wings refuse to let him go, just as Cas' arms.

But it can't last forever, nothing can. Soon they are on the go, running towards the exist, their mission a success. As they rush back to Earth, side by side, Castiel makes sure one of his wings stays around Dean, the grace infused in them dancing gently with the glow of Dean's soul.

.

Far behind are the days when Castiel could simply reach out with his wings and envelope Dean with them as a sign of closeness and comfort. Long gone now he misses at times the way he could feel the warmth of Dean's body against his feathers, the intimacy of it all as they closed around them, solid walls only his eyes could see.

But where there is lost now there is also a win, he doesn't need his wings anymore to hold Dean as he used to. He still has his arms and his hands and not only that he has also found out that Dean is far from being averse to this kind of affections as Castiel thought him to be.

So, whenever he feels the need to put his wings around Dean he simply walks up to him and lets his arms wrap around him, he holds him close, be it for a few seconds or for long minutes that seem to pass in the blink of an eye. Dean always hugs him back, a small smile on his lips, a kiss on his cheek.

The best part, Castiel thinks, is that Dean now can see, feel and enjoy that comfort and love Castiel had always wanted to give him so openly as he does now.

#destiel #ficlet #long post #vanessa writes ✨ #wiiiiiiiiings!!!!!!! #one silly little ficlet a day ✨ from me to youuuuuu🎶 #so it would be season 5 season 15 and post canon of course! #human!cas

[wisefoxluminary]

Dean is staring out into the heavenly night, leaning against the impala as his mind is conflicted. He had been fighting for so long. Now that he had died, there was still work to be done. He had to do anything he could to repair the fraught universe, to ensure that nothing can interfere with Sam's happiness. He wanted Sam to live out the life he always wanted. He wanted to do all the work that needed to be done if he wanted to achieve peace with his family. But deep down, one thing was troubling him, a lingering wish that burned bright in his heart. He would give everything to see Castiel again, the angel who had risked everything for him. He had done everything in his willpower to keep Dean safe, he gave up his blind faith to serve Dean in his cause. Dean had changed Cas for the better. He made him feel like he was human, a feeling he had been longing for ever since he first stepped foot on the holy earth. After so many years of sacrifice and kinship, it was the goodbye that hurt the most. Castiel had gave his life to the darkness to save Dean, the man he loved. The words I Love You were forever engraved on his heart. He wished he could turn back the clock and say everything he needed to say, to unearth the buried feelings he had kept under suppression. He needed to see Cas, no matter what trials he had to accomplish to be under the angel's warm embrace again. Now that Cas was in heaven, maybe Dean could repair the pieces that had crumbled that last night on earth, to address what was left unspoken. It happened so fast that Dean couldn't even save him, he just watched as he slipped away into the dark abyss. Everyone he lost, disappeared from him like a flash of light. Now that he was fighting for peace, he could right every wrong in his past. Cas was one of them and he needed to see him again. He had saved his parents, that was one thing on his list checked out. Saying what he needed to say to Cas was the next thing to mark off.

Dean could feel a presence making its way towards him, like the great powers of heaven were keeping his spirit guarded. Jack was behind him.

Jack: Are you alright Dean, you seem troubled?

Jack was the only source of comfort Dean needed right now. He sighs, unwilling to keep his emotions bottled up anymore.

Dean: You once told me there'll be peace when I'm done. I've been this world's beholden anchor for so long. I won't rest until the sun sets on my hunter's legacy. But there's one thing I need to make up for....and that's for never saying a proper goodbye.

Jack watches Dean with a coy smile, reading the feeling of longing on his face. He knows exactly what he's thinking.

Jack: I know how you feel Dean. Cas misses you with all his heart. He tries his best to stay strong, but he can't help but watch over you in heaven's pale light. He did this all for you.

Dean: Watching from a distance is a pain in the ass. Is there a way....I can speak to him? I need to see him Jack.

Jack: Don't worry Dean, I can arrange that. Just hold tight.

Jack's eyes begin to glow a faint blue as Dean watches in astonishment.

Jack: You will feel nothing. My power will take you to where you most desire to be.

Jack puts a hand on Dean's forehead as the world around him is engulfed in heavenly, blinding light. Dean opens his eyes to find himself in a calming abyss, an ancient tapestry of a restored heaven as there was a majestic garden surrounding him. Everything around him was drenched in phosphorescence as it was like he had been transported to the most purest part of heaven. It wasn't what Dean expected but here he was, waiting for his angel to return.

Castiel: Hello Dean...

Dean turns around to see Castiel standing there in the heavenly light, a worn smile on his face. He looked like he never changed. He was still the same man from the night the darkness swallowed him. The same man who fought by his side for countless decades. The man who professed his love in a time of great desperation. Looking at Cas's brown trench coat and blue eyes was like time had stopped, like nothing had gone by for Castiel since he had sacrificed his life that day in the bunker. Dean had changed, he was a different man now that he was dead. But seeing Cas was enough to remind him that his humanity was still within him.

Dean could feel tears prickle at his eyes as he went in to hug Castiel, something he had been longing for ever since he lost him all those years ago.

Dean: I missed you buddy....

Castiel could sense the sadness in Dean's mind, of how he missed him so desperately. It didn’t matter if separation kept them apart, they would always find one another again.

Castiel: I never thought I'd see you again Dean....

Dean: Well life happens, what can I say.

Dean pulls away from Cas's embrace as he admires the heavenly sight before him.

Dean: So you became all high and mighty? I'm loving the place by the way. Suits you.

Castiel, smiling: Ever since Jack rescued me from the empty, I stood by his side as I helped him rebuild the gates of heaven. I bask in the light and watch as I ensure the the universe is perfectly balanced. There are worlds born anew who still need a protector. This world needed an omniscient being to watch over it. Heaven is a station of peace thanks to Jack's power. I have been helping him keep an eye on things. Especially you Dean. I still have great purpose to carry out before my work is done, but I can assure you, I will be at peace once again.

Dean: I'm doing all of this for Sammy. There is still so much work to be done before I can find peace with him. Until the universe is safe from all evil, I'll get my time to rest.

Castiel: You are a strong man Dean, I have hope your love will conquer this great tide of evil. You always feel like you have to keep fighting. You will carry on fighting. That is who you'll always be. You are a man who uses love as his great power.

Dean bows his head down nervously, pondering what to say. This was probably the only chance he had to speak his mind. To tell Cas how he truly felt.

Dean: Cas, there's a reason I'm here...what I wanted to say....what I needed to say....

Castiel: Dean....

Dean: I never got to say goodbye. You are the one thing I need to find forgiveness for and this is my only chance to say it...I love you Cas, I always have.

Castiel stares at him in shock, it wasn't something he expected to hear. He had often dreamed of this moment, he always wondered what Dean would have said if they had gotten one more minute together. There was no barrier keeping them apart any longer. Time wasn't stopping them. This was Dean's chance to say what he felt, to answer Cas's last prayer.

Dean: There's not one moment of the day where I can't stop thinking about you. I wish things were different. I wish I listened to you and held your hand all the way. I should have faced that darkness with you. You saved my life that day, and a part of me....a part of me wishes I went with you. After that, I never stopped loving you. I kept fighting for you. I may be making the afterlife into my own rodeo for Sammy, but you have always been there. I can't find peace unless you're in it. So I love you Cas. I always will. If I have to stay in this moment with you forever, I will do it. So if there's one thing I'm gonna set right here and now, it'll be with you Cas. I'm with you to the very end.

Castiel: I did this all for you, Dean. I couldn't help but feel distracted from my seraphic duties. But there's one person I look to - and that's you Dean. I have watched the noble things you have done. What you did to save your parents. It just shows how much of a good man you truly are. So when my work is done, I will spend every moment I have with you. I will stand by your side until my name is forever written on your heart.

Castiel felt a lump grow in his throat as his wildest dreams were coming to light. Dean loved him unconditionally and this was the only chance he had to tell him. He couldn't fight with his feelings anymore as Castiel and Dean kiss under the divine light. It was warm and tender, the world around them melting away as it was just them and their passionate love. Cas was left stunned as he didn't expect to experience affection quite like this, especially from a Winchester. This was everything Dean had wanted to do for so long, as each kiss healed his worn scars. He caressed the angel's face, trying to remember how his mellow skin felt in his hands. He couldn't believe the land he was walking on. He had found forgiveness and love in Castiel, something he thought was unattainable. Dean had never felt more happy in his life. He and Castiel were more than friends now. They were everything to each other.

They move away from the kiss, the breath taken out of each of them. Castiel rests his forehead against Dean's as he can't believe his luck. Tears shed down his face as his feelings were finally reciprocated.

Castiel: What happens now?

Dean bows his head down lowly, still leaning against Cas's forehead. He tries to find the words.

Dean: I've got work to do. The universe needs saving, and I can't do it alone. I need you Cas, I need a partner.

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, looking him in the eye sincerely.

Castiel: Then I will stand with you until the very end.

Dean is grateful to have Cas on his side, to have the angel's love as his shield. He can't help but feel a pull towards Cas's eyes, lost in their winesome fidelity. He holds Cas in his arms, deep down knowing that he'll always have his back.

Dean: One last hunt

Castiel: One last hunt

Dean holds Cas tight in his arms as he is so relieved to have his lost lover at his side again. He found atonement being in the angel's company and now he needed him more than ever. He nestles his head against Cas's shoulder, burying himself into his embrace as he wished he could stay like this with him, to dance among the heavenly light. As the luminousity engulfed them, Dean knew that he would always carry this memory with him. Dean will always have Castiel by his side...

#supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #destiel fanfic #short ficlet #angst #love confessions #set post the winchesters #destiel reunion #dean misses cas #cas misses dean #reunited in the afterlife

[mlobsters]

supernatural s8e8 hunteri heroici (w. andrew dabb)

(huh, has he written without daniel loflin before? looks like no, but does exclusively after this)

literal cartoonish death, always a great sign. to go along with the very serious business in the recap

that's one creepy ass smile there, misha lol wtf are you doing. i wanna be a hunter *performing human smile flawlessly*

CASTIEL Can I, uh, at least ride in the front seat? DEAN and SAM simultaneously [SAM while shouldering CASTIEL out of the way] No.

so this is how it's gonna go

DEAN Listen, you see anything weird, anything out of the box, you give us a call. DETECTIVE Whatever you say, Scully.

where the hell did that come from? (picking scully instead of mulder)

*blurry flashback on sam starts to fade in* me, out loud: OH JESUS CHRIST. i know amelia was in the recap but i forgot, okay. i'm so tired of this plot mechanic

this man (brian markinson) has been in so many of my things

the x-files s5e9 folie a deux as gary lambert

the killing s2e12 donnie or marie as gil sloane

mad men s6e2 the doorway, part 2 as dr arnold rosen

the magicians s4e7 the side effect as everett

god mad men was a beautiful show. look at the sets and costumes and lighting. gahhh. and second, he played the character in the magicians that basically caused quentin to kill sacrifice himself and i just got real hurt over it all over again good job, brain-o

i swear i keep getting natalie portman's character in garden state vibes from how she's playing this part

SAM Uh, no. Maintenance, mostly. STAN Ah. Well, that makes sense. 'Cause I got to say, Sam, you look like a real fixer-upper to me.

i laughed out loud because ????? and also sam🧍‍♂️

DEAN Cas, you gonna book a room or what? CASTIEL No, I'll stay here. DEAN Oh, okay. Yeah. We'll have a slumber party, braid Sam's hair. Where are you gonna sleep? CASTIEL I don't sleep. DEAN Okay, well, I need my four hours, so... CASTIEL I'll watch over you. DEAN That's not gonna happen.

what a weird little interaction. i guess cas is back to being clueless about social stuff for comic relief. he had some really good snarky moments there for a bit, why are we backsliding

all right so. weird feelings about this dean cas convo. dean being very.. forthright demanding a serious conversation with cas. but this...

CASTIEL Dean, I... When I was... bad... and I had all those things – the... the leviathans... writhing inside me... I caused a lot of suffering on earth, but I devastated Heaven. I vaporized thousands of my own kind, and I – I – I can't go back. DEAN 'Cause if you do, the angels will kill you. CASTIEL Because if I see what Heaven's become – what I – [sighs] what I made of it... I'm afraid I might kill myself.

i don't like how this is framed to gain sympathy (and i have a general great distaste for how suicide is thrown around in media anyway)

ORDERLY It's creepy, right? A lot of these people – they just tune out and live in their own heads. It's like maybe the real world is too much for them, and they just run and hide, you know?

the way i laughed at that prompt for a flashback

STAN I think the two of you are holding on to each other, yeah. 'Cause I know she's scared. After what happened to Don, I don't blame her for taking off. Needing to run away and hide – I know why she did it. The question is – what are you running from, Sam?

yeah current!sam, what are you running from huh?? good thing the kevin tran thing drags out for a long time so you can figure out you wanna keep hunting or whatever by the time it wraps up

oh gosh, it's bj from mash

m*a*s*h s10e18 heroes - mike farrell as bj hunnicutt

*mumbling threats at the screen, if you flashback again because dean said something about living in a dream world........ 🔪*

SAM Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

it's a 3 way pep talk. everyone here needs it. personally iffy on the whole cartoon schtick but i do like this test pattern room effect

bro please i'm having extreme flashback fatigue 😭

LOL i took a screenshot of dean opening the bottle this way at the beginning of the episode because i was like this is so strange that they're focusing on it, is he using his pocketknife?? also like, opening a beer while getting in the car still at the gas station? well. now i see, more silly setup for a silly payoff later

SAM My, uh – my brother used to do that. STAN Yeah? SAM Yeah. STAN He a good guy? SAM Yeah. Yeah, uh, he – he was... the best. Uh, I, uh... I lost him, and, uh, I ran.

i don't hate the story they're telling through the flashbacks, i just hate how it's executed. i can see why they're doing it this way, so we're not actively suffering through the separation, it already happened. and the people want sam and dean together. but avoiding separating them has also made this really clunky and drag out by chopping it up and sprinkling it over so many episodes

anyway, resurrecting amelia's not-actually-dead husband certainly gives us all a guilt-free out of this whole fucking situation

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 8x08 #andrew dabb #spnhiky #hiky #amelia richardson #castiel #brian markinson #mike farrell #the xfiles #m*a*s*h #bj hunnicutt #the magicians #the killing #mad men #amelia from garden state

[shallowrambles]

Ok so, another thing somewhat more lighthearted about the bunker dismissal. (I promised some lighter takes.)

///

Obviously, it wasn't going to take forever to heal Sam.

Meanwhile, Dean was agonizing about whether to leave Cas in Peace or not ("Nobody wants him here more than me" and then Dean can't bear to tell him the Heaven spell was permanent, lol).

But in the later dialogue between them, it also kinda looks like the temporary-ness might've been a Known Thing. If that's the case... It makes the whole thing 1000% more hilarious. They're that broken up that they, quote, "can't work together...for a little while."

Also, shoutout to Cas for figuring out that this shit was related to Ezekiel quick. And Dean is dropping such heavy hints, too, lol. He's dying to open up. You can practically hear the gears turning here in 9x09:

CASTIEL: (clears throat) I, um, I noticed you look... kind of uncomfortable whenever Sam mentions my leaving. Doesn't he know that you told me to leave?

DEAN: Here's the deal. When Sam was doing the trials to seal up Hell, it messed him up. Okay? The third one nearly killed him. If I'd let him finish, it would have. He's still messed up, bad.

CASTIEL: You said the angel, Ezekiel, helped heal him.

DEAN (looks down, avoiding the question): Look, I got to do anything I can to get him back. Now, if that means that we keep our distance from you for a little while, then... Then I don't have a choice. I don't feel good about it, but I don't have a choice. It's great to have your help, Cas. Okay, but we just can't work together.

In Dean's perfect world, Ezekiel heals Sam, gets outta dodge, and Dean explains and invites Cas back to The Bunker.

Also in this same episode, we see yet more evidence of Cas's renewed confidence and actual preference to stay away once he's re-considered the danger. We could argue out his emotions, sure, but even before getting Grace, Cas is strategically embracing his Heaven's Most Wanted status (perhaps because April the reaper and the Riet Zen both found him, after all).

He's re-enlisted and re-embraced war and his Heavenly responsibilities. This parallels some of the themes of Cas using hunting to run away from his Heaven messes in season 8's Hunter Heroici, except this time he resolved to face the fight, even as a "human." And then, later he resolved to forcefully amass more power/Grace TO survive and fight.

CASTIEL (on the phone): Dean, I don't have a lot of time, so listen. The leader of the opposition is an angel named Malachi.

DEAN: How do you know that?

CASTIEL: He had me. I, uh, I was tortured. But I got away.

DEAN: How?

CASTIEL: I... I did what I had to. I became what they've become. A barbarian.

DEAN: What are you – Cas, where are you?

CASTIEL: It's better I stay away. They're gonna want me even more now. But I'm gonna be all right. I... I got my Grace back. Well, not mine per se, but it'll do.

DEAN: Wait, you're – you're back? You got your mojo?

CASTIEL: I'm not sure. But I am an angel.

DEAN: And you're okay with that?

CASTIEL: If we're going to war, I need to be ready.

DEAN (pause) Cas.

CASTIEL: Dean. There's more.

DEAN: What?

CASTIEL: Didn't you say Sam was healed by an angel named Ezekiel?

DEAN: Uh... Yeah, why?

CASTIEL: Ezekiel is dead.

DEAN: What?

CASTIEL: He died when the angels fell.

DEAN's face has a very concentrated "oh this is bad" expression.

I just think it's neat. There's a lot of soldier stuff Cas works through that has nothing to do with Sam and Dean.

#spn 9x09 #soldier cas #soldiernatural

[destiel-wings]

Ooh what's "the one where Dean holds tight"?

Thank you for asking!! 💙

The full title (of the prompt) would be "the one where Dean holds tight and is taken too by the Empty" and i don't know about you but I'm already SCREAMING.

So you get the idea. When Cas tries to push him away Dean doesn't let him and he holds on to Cas with all the strength that he has --and they're both taken to the Empty.

It's one of the first prompts i came up with, but it's currently sitting there waiting with my other prompt drafts in my "fics to write" pile cause I'm writing another WIP at the moment.

Here's a raw sneak peek from my draft, set immediately after they find themselves thrown into the Empty (yes, they're awake because of reasons, will think it through when i actually write it 😆)

*********************************************

"No."

Cas dismayed, his low deep voice

"What have you done."

(D, shackled)"What have i--what have I done??"

Cas turns to it, angry

"You have to throw him back. You hear me? OPEN THE PORTAL."

(Empty/Meg)"No, can't do thaaat."

(C)"This wasn't part of our deal. He has no part in it all."

(D)"Cas..."

(C)"It was MY deal. You're going to let him out."

The Empty chuckles

"Well I opened the portal to get you, little angel, and if your boyfriend's stupid enough to follow you here, then that's his problem, not mine."

"--NO. (moves) No you're gonna--"

"--CAS."

Dean stops him from the shoulder. Cas turns.

He's still frantic.

"Just... just stop."

"What, what do you mean stop, you could stay trapped here forever, are you suicidal?!"

(D, mad)"Well, I don't know, are you??!"

This shuts him up. For the moment.

(C, guilty)"This... this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Which part?!"

Cas' gaze is suddenly lost, buried in self blame.

"All of it."

*********************************************

#spn #destiel #fic writing #my fic #my wips #ao3fic #ao3 writer #answered asks #ask game #send me asks #angelinthefire

[thecryptcatt]

Sewing is awful.

I've never sewed (I hope that's the correct term) in my life, and I decided to give it a shot. Sewing by hand is time consuming, but I've gotten the hang of it... Using a sewing machine is very different. I made the world's worst bow tie for my dog, Sookie...

The Doctor would be disappointed.

But, I did manage to make something.

His name is Dean, and he's a little cream-colored squirrel- complete with the freckles. I thought it was a fitting name, seeing as it's a squirrel (and because Sookie is often called a hellhound). She's been in love with the little guy since I started making him. I got to see the excitement in her eyes while she watched me make him :3

I'm really enjoying the whole stuffie making thing, and I'm debating whether to make the rest of the supernatural crew: Sammy, Cas, Jack, and maybe even Crowley and Gabe. It'll take me absolutely forever, but I think it's worth it for the gag, and for the dog.

Other than that, I don't have much else going on. It's nice to finally be home and in my own space, even if that space is shared with my sister. My parents are snappy, as expected. I don't think anythings changed in the time I've been gone.

I decided to FINALLY sit down and finish work on my art final, which took absolutely freaking forever. Don't ask for the meaning or symbolism though. My lizard brain just thought PEGIN and that's what I did!! It's A2 in size I think, and it took about a month?? I honestly can't remember.

Tomorrow I get to see my girlfriend, and I am so excited... But also nervous. She isn't out to her mom yet, and so I can't introduce myself as her girlfriend. I love her with all my heart, and I know she's the girl I'm gonna marry. It's just gonna be a challenge to make sure I stay "platonic" when her mom's around. Oh boy.

I'll most likely update tomorrow evening again, or whenever something big happens. Whatever mental or psychological illness I have is giving me all kinds of memory loss, and I think that maybe journalling here can help me better remember the important things.

Anywho, goodnight yall ♡

#superntural #doctor who #dog things #sewing #fuckin pegin

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

"Home of the Lost: Chapter 21"

It's been a while, but I think I finally found a way to continue this story :) That being said, have fun reading it! Feel free to leave suggestions, things you'd like to see in further chapters or a response 💜 Enjoy!

Masterlist

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

Four days later

Things had changed, Star realised as she woke up that evening. Things had changed when Greg had shown up, causing her to look over her shoulder whenever she entered the boardwalk, scared to see him staying behind her. Things had changed when Paul and Eleanor had magically escaped the painting where they'd been stuck in - something Star found hard to grasp still. She also still had to meet Eleanor, since she hadn't left Paul and Marko's room since she got back. Things had changed when Max had accepted her into the family, with her getting an allowance and a room at his house. Things had changed, and she wasn't sure if it was for the better. She and David were talking now, not any deep talks as she might have liked, but it also went a bit further than a simple "hey, how are you?". She sighed, sitting up. With everything going on, she had thought she could explain the reason why she had such a dreadful feeling stuck in the pit of her stomach, and yet she couldn't, not even with Greg being around. Something - what it was she didn't know - would go wrong. Or was it wrong already. She didn't know. What she did know was that it did frighten her.

Eleanor woke up, not moving at all. She didn't want to, in all honesty. As much as she had hated the painting and had feared the Underpainting, she wasn't sure about this - leaving what she knew now. This room - the one that belonged to Marko and Paul - was safe. It smelled like home, and she knew everything in it. Her stuff was there, their stuff was there, and it was nice. What else did she need? She looked up when someone knocked on the door.

"Elle, you can't stay in here forever."

She decided not to answer, pretending to be asleep. Dwayne would leave after a few minutes, and then she could decide what to do in the room today.

"Eleanor," she sighed as she rolled her eyes when she heard him open the door, "You can't do this."

"Do what?"

"Hide."

"Im not hiding! I - I'm just accommodating."

"You're hiding. At any mention of going outside you pale, shut down and refuse to do anything."

"So?"

"It's not good for you."

"But I like it here," Eleanor said, looking at him as she still laid in bed. "I don't want to leave home so soon."

"What's really going on?"

Both were quiet for a while, him sitting on the ground before the bed and her still laying on it.

"I'm weird."

"So?"

"Thirty years is a long time."

"We are weird too. Weirder than you."

"I freaked out when I heard Paul play a cas-thingy."

"Cassette. And no one blames you for finding unknown stuff weird."

"I don't want to be pitied."

"Then don't act like you will be."

Eleanor sighed. "I'm not going out."

"You need to feed."

Eleanor nodded. She knew that. But after thirty years of not feeding at all, somehow, the thought alone scared her.

Star was glad she was not alone when she walked over the boardwalk. Paul and Marko had decided to go on a date, celebrating the fact they were together again, and David had decided to accompany Star.

"We can take care of that ex of yours." David said. It wasn't even an offer. It was just a fact. "So can you."

Star nodded. "I know. And I want to..."

"But?"

"I don't want to hurt my sister either. She is a bitch, but I don't want to kill her."

"You don't have to. We will, if necessary."

Star stopped walking, looking at him. She shook her head. "I want her to live."

"Fine. Just know that it will be easier to kill her immediately too."

"No."

David lit a cigarette. Truly, he understood Star's reasoning. And yet, she was their sister now, having lost al bonds she previously might have had with her mortal family. She shouldn't feel so strongly or protective about them. She should be seeing them as another meal.

The two of them walked further, the Big Dipper coming into view.

"What are we?" Star asked, as they entered a deserted piece of the boardwalk a while later.

"Siblings, in a way. Friends, possibly."

"Nothing more, then?"

"No."

"Then why were you like that when you met me? As if I was something more?"

David chuckled, stopping as he looked at Star. He rested his hand against her cheek, a smug grin forming on his face.

"I'm a vampire, doll. I take what I want, when I want it from whomever I want it."

"Would you have killed me?"

"No. If you failed Paul and Marko would have done it."

"Then why keep me alive and around?"

"For them, you reminded them of Eleanor. For me, it was just some fun."

Star was quiet for a moment, shaking her head before laughing. "This is a mess. An absolute fucking mess, and somehow," she paused and looked at David, "all of this is still better than the home I left."

David grinned. "See, now you're getting it."

Her screams slowly fainted away as they sucked her life force out of her. Marko took her wrist, Paul her neck. It had been a good night, a quiet one. They had both felt like going to the movies, and in doing so, they had found their perfect meal. She had been scared by the picture, a brand-new horror directed by Wes Craven, and the sudden terror she felt when the boys grabbed her and killed her - it made her blood even tastier. As she laid there, dying, Marko sighed. "We got to do something about Eleanor."

Paul nodded. "She needs a space of her own to begin with. The whole going out, hanging on the boardwalk, and everything else can come later."

"You just want to be able to fuck in our own room again."

"Obviously! But seriously, we need to get her to go somewhere else. Outside our room."

That day, a storm crossed over Santa Carla. Rain poured everywhere, lightning crashing across the sky. The loud rolls of thunder echoed through the cave. There, an abandoned painting lied. As the storm grew stronger, and the sky turned darker and darker, a black smoke emitted from the painting, slowly taking the shape of a long and slender man. As a new lightning bolt flashed across the sky, the light illuminated his face. Sharp features were visible, a chin as if it was cut with a knife, a nose sharp as one, and eyes as piercing as a needle. And then he laughed, baring his teeth - which were more like fangs, rows upon rows showing as he opened his mouth.

By the next flash of lighting he was gone, melted away in the shadows of the cave.

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