#and he's pleading. BEGGING crowley to come with him. because he can make it all better again. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkaditty · 4 months

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How will the TWST characters react to you having to leave? (Pt 1)

summary: Crowley had finally lived up to his promise. You were going to go home. All he needed was around a month to get the mirror set up for your return. Your eventual departure made each of the TWST boys turn into a ticking time bomb.

a/n: okay. so. i watched a tiktok today on my fyp. and i was inspired. i wrote this in hours and grappled with whether or not i should post it bc... well, i have a lot of requests piled up...! but, in the end i decided, why not? its my blog and ill do what i want with it. not to worry though, i am still working on your asks, i promise. i won't post part two of this (even though it's already written) until i've done at least 2 more asks, so no worries! i do see your requests, and i am working on them!

cw: creepy behavior (kinda), drugging, manipulation, and angst. i think that's all!! mc is mentioned but has no pronouns nor physical attributes mentioned.

minors... are actually allowed to interact with this post specifically. i don't mind it this time. NOT THE REST OF MY BLOG THOUGH. MINORS THAT INTERACT WITH MY NSFW POSTS WILL BE BLOCKED. thanks!

HEARTSLABYUL:

Ace:

He really has a hard time with it. Like, a really, really hard time. Once news reaches him, he almost can’t handle it. The anxiety that the thoughts of your departure cause will eat him alive. It will eventually get so bad that it prevents him from living in the moment, or enjoying his time around you. He falls into a depression, losing motivation to go on, keep living, or keep having fun. The wind has been taken from his sails. His grades slip as the weeks pass, but he can’t be bothered to care. He won’t show up anywhere unless it’s where you are. Despite his inability to enjoy anything anymore, he still spends time with you because, somewhere in him, he hopes you will be too attached to leave. He won’t do anything to damage, destroy, or hide the mirror, but when it comes down to it, he will plead with you not to leave right in front of the mirror on the day you are to go. He will also look the other way, should it end up mysteriously disappearing or broken. He refuses to be the culprit, but he will do everything in his power to make you stay, so long as it’s within the rules. Even begging. Please don’t go. You’re not all he has, but you’re all he wants. Please don’t leave him.

Deuce:

Recognizes the importance of family and knows what it’s like to disappoint them or be separated from them. He doesn’t want that for you. But at the same time, he considers you family. The real question is whether he will put himself and his feelings for you first, or if he’ll put you and your feelings first. He grapples with this a lot. He’s not selfish, and has no desire to be, but he found himself wanting to be selfish with you. He wants to keep you around, at least for a little while longer. A month is not enough. Whenever he passes by the summoning room, and sees that dreaded mirror, a rage awakens in him. The urge to return to his old ways burns within him, and for a moment, he can see himself punching the mirror, shattering it to pieces, forever ruining the chance you have to return home. But then he imagines the despair you will feel, and he is left with an empty hole in his heart. Should that mirror end up missing or broken, he will do everything he can to help fix it or find it. He knows he must let you go, and he will, but he will not be happy about it. He will clench his fists and mumble goodbye and try to act like it is all right. It is not. It is not alright.

Riddle:

He also recognizes the importance of family, but to a lesser degree. Rather values friendship and found family more, which is what spurs his desire to keep you around. You were a part of his found family, the one he desires to keep. Sure, he had to get used to having you around, but you had grown on him a lot. Far more than he wished to admit. His heart breaks at the news. What was he going to do? He’s uptight. Can’t bring himself to break nor bend the rules, so he won’t. Instead he puts on a mask and slightly distances himself. He acts pleased for you, happy that you have a way to return home, at last. The thought of sabotaging you doesn’t even cross his mind, but should he find out you have been, he will help you. He knows what is best. Come the dreaded day, when he watches you walk away, his heart will crumble. He will spill enough tears to create a river. He will not beg you to stay. He will not convince you. He will not do anything to prevent you from going. But he will cling to the sleeves of his ceremonial robes and bawl quietly. Why did his found family have to leave him all over again?

Trey:

His heart just sort of… sinks. It doesn’t hit him immediately, the despair of you leaving, but it approaches. When he finds himself baking sweets, and thinks of you, it hits him. When he finds himself scoring well in class, and thinks of you, it hits him. When he’s hanging in the Heartslabyul common room, and thinks of you, it hits him. It hits him over and over and over again until he can’t do a single thing without somehow connecting it to you and thinking about your eventual departure. He starts to spiral internally, despite usually keeping a cool head. Just the thought of you leaving will have him grip his pen so hard it snaps, pouring far too much sugar into his sweets and staring down at the ruined mixture, staring up at the ceiling of his dorm at night wondering how time continues to pass. He’s so far gone, so out of it, yet no one else seems to notice because they’re all so wrapped up in their own heads. He won’t beg, he won’t cry, he won’t plead, he won’t break anything, so long as it’s someone else breaking the mirror. But if you leave, the blood may rush to his head and he may find himself fainting, the shock of it all finally reaching him. Is this what loss is? What it feels like?

Cater:

No. Oh god, no. Immediately his spiral starts. He already knew he shouldn’t have become attached to you, knowing that you would have to leave. But the longer you stayed, the more he opened up to you. And the more he opened up to you, the more he liked you. You were Ramshackle dorm’s Prefect, or more like “perfect” if you asked him. There was something so fitting about you to him, and having someone leave all over again… At this point, he should be used to it. But he’s not. He never will be. He knew opening up was a bad idea, he knew indulging himself in this friendship would lead to nothing but despair, he knew, he knew, he knew. The guilt and anger at betraying himself and the building feelings he harbored for you eat him alive at night, and haunt him during the day. However, should that mirror end up broken, he won’t exactly do anything about it. If it doesn’t break, of course, he puts on a brave face, acts like everything’s normal, but he’s so far in his own head he doesn’t even realize how clingy and attached he’s become. He will act normal to the end, even wave a final goodbye as you leave, and will return to Heartslabyul like nothing’s happened. When he’s alone, the tears come. He cries harder than he’s ever cried before. Everything’s back to normal, but now he realizes he never wants normal ever again. Every day, he misses your chaos. Why can’t you come back to him? You were perfect, not normal.

SAVANACLAW:

Leona:

To hell with rules. This herbivore may not have been his favorite at first, but it’s not quite like he can imagine a life without them now. Instead of fear or sadness, he feels anger and entitlement. He should be getting what he wants. He’s a prince, for seven’s sakes. He may not be any type of inherent heir, but he had his rights, and the way he saw it, that also gave him the ability to do whatever he pleased. It’s not like you even spoke about your past a lot anyway, or the world you came from. It didn’t matter more than him and his need to have you nearby. Nothing mattered more than that. He soon hatches a plan to try and destroy that mirror; either through breaking it with his fists or turning it to sand, he would do it, and he wouldn’t care if you knew it was him. As long as you were here, by his side. If all else fails, he will prevent you from even approaching that mirror. He won’t kidnap you, he’s not crazy, but he might just block your way or try to convince you to reconsider. If you remain hard-set, he may become angry, but the more stubborn you are, the more the despair will finally grip him. He may even break down and beg, hoping that the humility of a prince will force you to feel guilt and regret. He could never have cared for an herbivore this much, but it was you. He can’t let you go. And if you really do leave, he won’t sleep at all for weeks.

Ruggie:

Will 100% act nonchalant about it, but on the inside he’s freaking out. He immediately goes into hyperdrive, and will do anything and everything to get you off his mind. He studies until his mind melts, stays after classes for extra tutoring, idles in the cafeteria, hangs out with friends, and whatever else he can possibly think of doing that means he gets to avoid you and the thought of you leaving. May even go as far as starving himself so he can think of food and water instead of you. Of course, this all fails because no matter how much he denies you, he still sees you. He still knows you’re around. He caves at long last when he cannot ignore your presence any longer. He goes to see you all the time, to make up for time lost. Every minute he can spare, he’s with you. Doesn’t think of breaking the mirror, but won’t stop Leona if he tries. He’ll look the other way, because just as badly as you may want to go home… he wants you to be here with them. If you do end up leaving, his heart will be empty as he watches you go. He won’t so much as hug you, but wave a weak goodbye and wish you well. He crumples in the time that follows and is a hollow shell of who he once was. It could’ve been different. You could’ve stayed.

Jack:

He’s an upstanding character. He has a moral compass and knows what is best. He is also stubborn and hard to sway. That said, every single day of the month that leads up to your departure, he finds himself standing in front of that mirror for some time, contemplating. He could break it. Technically, he could. He could just punch it and no one would be able to pin it directly on him, at least not immediately. That way, you would be here. You would have to stay. It may not be the best outcome for you, but he could be a shoulder to rely on. However, he shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and ends up scampering away from the mirror, lest his thoughts get the best of him. Every time he lays down in bed, he tries to resist it, but then he finds he can’t sleep. So he creeps around to the summoning room, looks that mirror head on, and battles with himself. In the end, he does not break it. He has a hard time not doing it, but in the end, he knows what’s best. He will inevitably run into someone attempting to sabotage you, but he will be far too caught up deciding what to do to stop them. He will inevitably fail to stop a sabotage, but the guilt will claw at him, and he will do all he can do to help. Should you go, he will feel happy that you are returning home, but squeeze you very tight for a little longer than usual. The tears will come when he is alone, contemplating on that mirror, staring at his fists and imagining if they were bloody and stuck with glass. What would have changed?

OCTAVINELLE:

Azul:

Is as cool as ever externally, but freaking out internally. He tries to play it off to himself as being concerned about outstanding debts, or bemoaning about less free labor, or even worrying about what will happen to Ramshackle if he can’t get his hands on it when no one but Grim resides in it? Oh, the horror…! Or, so he tries to say. In reality, he actually can’t stand to see you go. Sure, it hadn’t been very long, but you’d been through quite a lot together, and you had become quite reliable. It was nice having someone he could depend on, trust in, and enjoy one another’s company without the looming threat of becoming disinteresting, like Jade and Floyd. He’d actually come to like you. Perhaps more than that. Before long, he stops moping and starts thinking of ways to get you to stay. He even enlists Jade and Floyd’s help, fully aware they already have their own tactics in mind. He doesn’t care what works, he just hopes something will. He scribbles up contracts, some that would be appealing to you, and give you more benefits than him, but in small fine print reads: “Upon signing this contract, the signer agrees to remain in Twisted Wonderland for as long as the contractor sees fit.” He makes so many that you feel guilty turning him down. It gets to the point where he is begging and pleading with you not to go through that mirror. Not to leave them all behind. If it all fails, he collapses as he watches you go. He returns to his office and rips those contracts to shreds. It was all for naught. All for naught. For the first time in his life, he feels as though he’s drowning.

Jade:

Oh, he cannot let this happen. He cannot simply let you leave. Not when he’s grown so fond of you! He’s not letting you leave him behind. He puts on a brave face, as though he’s self-assured, but in truth, he’s shattered. He feels hopeless. Of course he knew you had a home, but he did not expect you to leave, so soon, and so quickly. Maybe he didn’t want you to leave at all. No matter though, this could be fixed. When Azul entrusts him and Floyd with similar tasks, he can tell that Azul is just as desperate to keep you here. They work mostly independent, but as long as something works, none of them mind which one’s plan did the trick. Jade uses his signature spell on you to pry the truth from you. When he finds that even the smallest part of you does want to return, he finds himself sinking. He must stop this, he has to. A twisted idea is born and soon enacted on the day of, when he encourages you to have a final meal he’s prepared. When you finally collapse, he takes great care to ensure that you won’t make it. But, should you be found and carried to the summoning room, assuming you are in a deep sleep, it will have failed. No surprise will show on his face, and when you finally wake to leave, he will nod and smile, wishing you well. His hands are curled into fists and he is boiling with anger. His room will soon be trashed and he will be shaking with rage. This could have changed. It could have all changed.

Floyd:

Little Shrimpy? Leaving him behind? No way! He’s already pouty about this, but somehow he is assured that you won’t leave. As though he trusts that whatever plan he puts into action specifically will stop you. This is why he is the only one seemingly totally carefree. For everyone else, the stress shows somewhere: in their eyes, in their expressions, in their hands, in their jaw, in their movements, in their behaviors… somewhere. But for Floyd, it just can’t be found. He is 100% carefree and confident that you won’t leave him behind. He intends to make sure of that, no matter what he must do. Of course, he does pout for show around you, complaining about how you have to leave, and might even blubber about it to earn your sympathy. When Azul puts him and Jade up the task of making you stay, he’s elated because he already has the ball rolling. You have to stay - no ifs, ands, or buts about it! And he does his best to convince you. He earns your guilt and remorse in every way he can, even popping up at the most inconvenient times to hang out so you can turn him down and he can pretend to feel bad about it. He lets the guilt fester in your heart, playing the long game. At last, when he’s certain he has you under his thumb, he waits until the day you are to leave. As you are stepping towards the mirror, he grabs your arm, looking at you with false pleading eyes, and begs you to stay. He watches the turmoil boil in your eyes, and almost feels that he has won. But if you ultimately tell him you have to go, he will go blank. His face will lose all emotion, and he will let go. In the coldest voice ever, he will murmur his goodbyes. And some time later, when he’s swimming through the cold, deep sea to get his mind off of everything, he will wish he didn’t have gills. He will wish he couldn’t breathe. He will wish he could drown.

a/n: wowie this was soooooo much fun!!! i totes forgot how much i ADORE writing angst ouuuugghhh!!! best thing ever awaaaaaa!! anyways, i hope you all enjoyed! leave a like, comment, or just reblog if you liked it!! please tell me how much you enjoyed it, i love catering to you all! shameless bit that i do adore asks just as well, so if you come up with a request, my asks are open! thank you!

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 9 months

Note

OP I am new to twisted wonderland but I saw the binding hc post and I uuuuuh have a request if that’s okay. My request is basically like, MC/Yuu who is AFAB and NB or Trans Masc who isn’t out. They get sorted into dorms or something and refuse to wear the uniforms because Tiddies are More Pronounced and that’s not cash gender of them. and they basically get into a fight with the dorm leaders that lead to them coming out while yelling and then just. The dorm leaders are like ???? Well shit that’s fixable why didn’t you say that earlier ??

Trans Yuu

Yuu is a trans dude in the middle of transitioning at the worst place to do it— NRC.

Notes: went in a wild direction lmao. Anyways FTM Yuu. Shitty jokes and cringe.

You are a 2010 Stefani Canturi Barbie and God is a mother going through her kid's toys to donate to the Bratz section at goodwill, you are sure of it. There is no way in hell it was coincidence that you ended up in an all-boys school filled with the stupidest people you met otherwise. Perhaps god just assumed you were both dolls so it doesn’t really matter what toy pile you were put in, and you don’t know if that is the biggest compliment you have received— to be compared to cis dudes— or an insult (these men fucking suck).

With all the running around you had to do the first day, no one was able to sniff you out, yet. Still, it didn't last that long, and it didn’t. Deuce was far too kind and dense to really tell what you were, and Grim was Grim. Ace on the other hand almost seemed to side-eye you at times. You tried to ignore it and pray to the goodwill mom that he doesn’t say anything, and surprisingly he didn’t, you got that stupid gem, celebrated, and went over to your crow overlord (who doesn’t even notice your predicament either) to turn it in and go the fuck home. Perhaps the only break you got was the fact that people here spoke a sort of similar language to you even if it was a bit… strange. Whatever, you can think tomorrow, right now you can make yourself comfortable and finally sleep uninterrupted.

And then that fucker from before came to you at one in the morning, after you have unbound yourself and got comfortable begging for you to let him sleep in your bed, strange collar on his neck. “No, Ace. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch.” You crossed your arms over your chest nervously and thankfully the dumbass didn't notice. “C’mon, c’mon, I’m super skinny! I won’t take up any space!” Ace pleaded. You and Grim looked at each other tiredly then back at Ace. “No.” You said before sighing and heading upstairs.

“Awwee!! Cmon!!!” “Cry about it.” You sneered, but as you ascended the steps you notice Ace watching you with that look in his eyes from earlier. He knows doesn’t he…

***

You may not know Trey and Cater well, but you owe them your life. The dumbass trio you were with despite living in this world their whole life could not tell you the most basic shit about it for the life of them. And even worse, despite two of them being selected for this university and one choosing to sneak in with plenty of time to research it beforehand (hell, Ace has a brother who went here), they both decided to go in completely blind and not understand anything at all.

Thankfully, your dear juniors seemed to take pity on you and actually took time to explain the bare fucking minimum for all four of your sakes. Yet as they explained everything to you in such sweet simplicity, you notice Trey look over to your form that you kept nervously wrapped up in the only oversized overcoat (that all Yuu’s in the manga have) to hide your figure. “Are you alright there Yuu?” He asks and you freeze.

“Yeah, it's just…” Trey frowned and adjusted his glasses out of concern. “Did Crowley provide any resources for you? It must be difficult being stuck here as a girl and all.” You pause and before you can speak you are interrupted. “YOU’RE WHAT.” The dumbass trio all yelled at once making you, Trey, and Cater all shut your eyes pensively. “Dude! I mean bro— I mean— Ugh!” Ace sputtered, and Deuce looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die with how much he was overthinking. Looking over at Trey, the regret on his face was obvious, and you can only assume he thought you told the other three. “You didn’t tell us you're a girl!” Ace yaps.

“I’m not, I’m a guy, I just…” Cater speaks up. “They got the wrong body babes, it's nbd.” The ginger strikes a selfie pose, “That's a thing???” Deuce stared wide-eyed. “Exactly!” You speak up. Trey clears his throat, looking even more ashamed. “Ah, my…. I’m sorry Yuu I didn’t know.” “It’s fine, you didn’t know, plus I guess it was obvious.” At that, the group around you went quiet.

“Uh no it wasn't ?” Ace crosses his arms. “Have you seen the guys in this school? Some of them straight up look like chicks!” “I thought you knew 'cause you were looking at me weird yesterday!” Ace’s face becomes slightly flustered. “I wasn’t staring—“ Ace stopped his excuse when he saw you and Trey glare. “Okay, fine I was! You happy?” “Why were you staring at them?” Grim asks unimpressed.

Ace gets even more flustered. “It's cause, well you know—“ Cater raises his brows and suppresses a knowing smile and a laugh to the best of his ability as he looks over at you. Ace huffs, “How did you not know Grim? You share a bed with them!” “Haaah? Don't change the subject—“ “Okay that's enough.”

Trey sighs. “Once again, I am very sorry about that Yuu, I thought—“ “It's okay Trey, you didn’t know… But also how did both of you know?” Cater winks, “Oh he’s just like that, babes. Trey-Kun attracts all sorts of fruit to him.” You snort and not how Trey seems to sigh, “Are you one of them?” Cater's eyes widen for a moment before he gives a chuckle. “Good one, but we’ve dealt with enough people in this school to tell by now, though. “So you both just have a gaydar, got it.” “Ooh I like that word, I’ll steal it from ya!” Cater winks again.

“In any case…” Trey adjusts his glasses again. “There's no need to sweat over it. You’ll fit in fine here, Yuu, however, I recommend that you bother Crowley for a spell or potion to get you switched to a new body as soon as possible so this conversation doesn't happen again.” Trey is putting on a brave face to hide his mortification of how he accidentally outed someone. “Crowley can be a real pain sometimes, but he will deliver on that at the very least. Until then you could probably get something from Sam’s for a temporary fix, though they will cost a small fee since they’re home-brewed, or brew your own potion.”

“Oh yeah, you guys have magic here for that stuff… that's crazy…” “Oh yeah, there’s no magic in your world huh Yuu-Kun?” Cater thinks for a moment, “Healthcare here includes that sorta care, but I imagine it’ll be a little difficult to apply for it since you're not from this world and stuff. Kinda hard to do that stuff if you don't exist here, huh?” Cater muses. “Alright, now let's get back to telling them about the dorms Trey!”

“Ah, one more thing, all of you.” Trey’s expression becomes more serious, and gestures to a table where two people— twins with teal hair sit together. “Be careful with Octavinelle students,” he warns, “especially those two. They work for their dorm leader, Azul. They’re scam artists, do not ever make a deal with any of them, especially you, Yuu. Do not tell them what you are.” “Why?” Cater nudges you. “They’ll totally be like ‘We can help you transition Yuu!’ And then your soul is theirs!”

“That’s no different from where I’m from.”

***

Ace and Deuce were a bit weird with you for the next few hours, before Grim got annoyed with them acting overly cautious and insulted them, which in turn made them all have an annoying argument that you got involved in, in which they treated you like one of the bros. You have to make a note to get Grim the world's most premium tuna for that later.

And when it came time to grab the tuna, you also had to check out Sam’s potion brewery, where you learned that Sam was a real cool dude. He’s a salesman at the end of the day, always looking for a profit, but at least he was fair. He never overpriced things and always knew how to make a good deal. And though you were prepared to drop nearly your whole allowance on a potion Sam seemed to stop you.

“Hey there little imp! Before you pick one of those out, what form are you lookin’ to take?” You look around for a moment, making sure no one was nearby. “I’m looking for a transitioning potion? I wanna be a dude…” You mutter. Anxiety brews in your gut as Sam leans in, keeping eye contact with you. The salesman then bounces back to his feet in an animated and theatrical manner. “Well, we got those iiiiiinnn STOCK! Lucky for you, we have all sorts to choose from!” Sam says before taking out crate after crate.

“Please, pick that one that calls to you.” You look at the vials nervously before pulling one out of the velvet casing they were carefully placed in. The liquid inside has the consistency of a purple, glittery syrup. “That's a great one!” Sam says. “One small issue though.” Oh god here it comes, by picking up the vial you probably should your soul to him and you're gonna be doomed to work here the rest of your life.

“That's gonna be temporary, little imp! Not good for the long term. The Mystery Shop cannot sell permanent potions for these unless you have a prescription, but my little friends from the other side say that you ain’t from these parts.” Sam smiles. “Take 4, on the house! And drink them all at once, that should give you around 4 and half months in that form!” “Really? Are you sure!” Sam nods, “Course! It's not a loss at all either, I get compensated to give em out anyways! Do be sure to tell Crowley to get you a permanent one though! Or it may be quicker to ask that professor of yours!”

“Thank you Mr.Sam! I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

Crowley is an asshole, a real bitch, and one of the most annoying people you know. But at least he can be reasonable once in a blue moon. When bringing up needing a potion he merely went on a 30-minute rant on how he’ll get a prescription for you because he’s “oh so generous” and totally not because he’s probably a fruit too like everyone else in this school.

You expected this process of getting a prescription to be a very annoying and long wait, just for you to receive the paper later allowing it less than an hour later. Sam did say that asking Professor Crewel for a good potion would be better than asking him since he’s certified to make them. Given how extra he is with everything too, you're sure any potion by him would be insane. So here you were, head down and begging that this man help you, one alphabet soup to another.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to make you a prescription potion for you, rather than get it from Sam’s because you think I would make a better one.” You nod, and Crewel could tell there wasn't any flattery behind your words, you truly believed what you said. “Sam didn’t put you up to this did he?” “I mean he mentioned you could help but that’s it, why is he plotting something?” “He’s been trying to get me to make him a batch of these for ages, saying that he only wants the highest quality products for his customers.” “Seems like I was right to go to you.”

Crewel almost lets out a sigh, before tapping his whip against his palm. “Fine then pup. I’ll give you a private lesson for potionology because you will be taking notes and helping me as well.” “Really?” “Crowley did say there is no record of you existing anywhere. Consider this the pre-lessons you were supposed to learn in high school.”

After an hour of work, you have successfully created three giant bottles of the stuff Crewel guided you to make, and now in your notes, you have the recipe just in case something happens to them. “Listen here.” Crewel commands and you whip your head to him. “Wait until those four months are up on the serum you are on before taking these. Take only 15 milligrams of each a day until you are all out. This way, it’s permanent and you don't have to worry about someone turning you back so easily.” The professor smiles and taps his baton in his other hand.

“Any questions?” “Why am I on the serum then, sir?” “That one prepares your body for a more permanent change, especially if you show any complications with the magic used.” “Got it, sir, that’s all the questions I have.” “Good, now clean your workspace, and go back to your dorm. I expect you to be fully awake in the morning for class.” “Yes, sir” “And I also expect that you will be more responsive than your peers in class because of this.” “Of course, sir.”

Carefully putting the bottles in your bag, and using your jacket as a cushion for each one you braved your way outside nervously. Sam did say that the vials you took will take a while to take effect since your body isn’t used to magic…

***

The final thing you learned in these past two days was that the misogyny here is very much inclusive, you can't tell if that’s a sign of progress or not. The second you walked out of that door you had your very first instance of bullying (Aside from Ace) since arriving in this world. A few Savanaclaw jocks standing by seemed to immediately look over and snicker.

You stood your ground as they approached, knowing walking away would make it worse and if it got bad Crewel was still in that room. “Tch, you’re the new kid huh?” One said in a very stereotypical stupid school bully way. You’re half surprised they didn’t include some insult like “dweebus” or something. “Hah, bro doesn't even have good pecs, what a fucking girl.” One says. “Never knew they made exceptions for girls!” The other says.

“Uh, yeah, it's gonna take a while for this potion to take effect.” A cat boy scoffs, “What potion.” “The one that’s supposed to make me a boy, it's taking a while.” The group went silent for a moment, the weird wolfman sniffs the air at you for a moment before beckoning his bros to lean in and listen. After a painfully awkward moment, the cat boy leader comes back to lean into your face. “So you are a boy! Big deal! You still don't have pecs!” He says, changing his whole tune. “Yeah well you may be a boy but you're… your…” The fox boy pauses, trying to find a proper insult, just to be interrupted by the wolfman again. “But you fucking suck at being one!”

“YEAH!” All three cheer together as they finally find the right niche to bully you in. Suddenly the door next to you opens. “You three! Silence! Leave them alone, it's curfew! Or do you want me to put you to work?” Crewel reprimands, leaving the three running off with their tails between their legs. “You too Yuu.” And you nod and take it as your sign to leave.

You were gonna have a great time learning how to be a boy

#trans reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #sam x reader #twst sam x reader #divus crewel x reader

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avocado-writing · 9 months

Note

thinking abouttttt reader (perhaps nightingale!!) and crowley fucking etc on a couch in the bookshop while aziraphale works nearby, trying to distract him and moaning his name begging him to join them

perhaps even leaving a perfect space for him to fit in 🤫

notes: yes teehee tltdatsib-verse. utter filth.

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: E, minors dni

“Time for bed, angel.”

Aziraphale looks up from his desk to the two of you. Between you and Crowley you take up most of the doorframe, a double hit of pleading eyes and soft hands. Crowley’s just wearing silk boxers, and your short pyjama set leaves very little to the imagination. Aziraphale knows what you actually mean when you tell him it’s time for bed: we’re both feeling up for it, and we want you to come and join us.

And to be fair, usually Aziraphale says yes. He might be an angel but he’s a sinner when it comes to lust, when it comes to the both of you. It’s a delight to have one person’s hands on you, but the touch of two? Two who love him to the ends of the earth and desire nothing more than to have him between them, caress him, hold him, make love to him? How does one not fall into that temptation?

Bookseller issues, that’s how. He’s had a smarmy letter from someone claiming there’s a family heirloom in his shop, donated by an ancestor years ago, and they want it back. He needs to work out how to squirm his way out of this one or the word will spread that he can be bullied into surrendering his stock. So he slides his glasses off his face and into his hair and gives you both a resigned smile.

“I’m sorry, my darlings. I won’t be joining you tonight, for anything but sleep anyway. But don’t let my absence stop you. I’m sure you can find ways to entertain yourselves.”

He says this last part with a wink and hopes it will solve the matter, but you and Crowley exchange a look. The two of you are masters of silent communication. Aziraphale is a little jealous of it if truth be told, but usually when you do this it’s because the two of you are scheming something about him.

“Alright,” you sigh, taking Crowley’s hand and heading to the sofa, “we won’t go to bed then.”

Aziraphale furrows his brow.

“But—”

“No angel, you’ve made yourself quite clear,” Crowley says, raising his palm to silence his husband. He takes a seat and pats the area next to him, where you slide in perfectly. There is just enough room on the couch for Aziraphale to join you.

“I don’t know what the two of you think you’re doing —”

“We’re just not letting your absence stop us,” Crowley explains. You sling a leg over his so you can mount his slim thigh, and then the two of you begin to kiss. There is no preamble to it. There is no warming up. Suddenly the two of you are lips-akimbo, pressing your tongues together in a way which borders on pornographic. No, scratch that, there is nothing bordering about it at all - the moan Crowley releases into your mouth, the way your back arches as he grabs a handful of your arse, this is all practically choreographed.

For him. To make him pay attention.

Aziraphale will not let it work. He turns back to his papers and stares down at them, but the letters turn into a jumbled mess before his eyes. A moment passes but when you groan his head whips around involuntarily.

You’re riding Crowley’s leg, pressing your sex to it and dragging it back and forth slowly. You’ve reached into his boxers, too, and pulled out the length of him: half-hard and already beginning to leak. His precome shines on your fingers. Both of you are looking directly at your angel.

“Stop it,” he says, but doesn’t mean it at all. He’d very much like for you to continue, actually. Aziraphale reaches down to adjust himself in his trousers, where his cock is beginning to grow heavy and ache.

He didn’t even realise he’d manifested one. He must have done it subconsciously. This is what the two of you do to him.

“Gosh, I wish our husband was over here,” you sigh, dramatically, swiping the moisture off Crowley’s slit, “you’re lovely, Crowley, but Aziraphale’s thighs are so lovely and thick. I could fuck them all day.”

“Normally I’d take that as an insult, nightingale, but I can’t help but agree,” Crowley murmurs. You capture his lips in another filthy kiss to show you didn’t mean to offend your demon, digging your hips down more roughly. You must catch in a pleasurable way because you let out a needy little mewl.

“Oh, Crowley–” you huff, matching the speed of your thrusts with the timing of your hand. You look wickedly back to Aziraphale.

“There’s room. You could join us. I’d love to feel your thigh under me, darling. I’m sure Crowley would too, you have two of them after all. And his pussy is just as pretty as his cock, don’t you think? Isn’t he such a lovely demon?”

You lick a line along Crowley’s throat and bite at the hinge of his jaw, teasing the skin with your teeth. The two of you let out a twin little cry, and it snaps the last thread of self control Aziraphale was hanging on to.

He stands, suddenly, and you both look delighted.

“If you’re going to terrorise me, you’ll get what you asked for,” he states. A motion of his hand has the two of you scrambling to make space. Aziraphale sits heavily between the two of you and pats either one of his thighs.

“You want to ride me? Ride me. And whoever comes first I’ll pay special attention to.”

You and Crowley exchange a look. This has gone from an allyship to a competition with one sentence. Aziraphale is overwhelmed by the feeling of the two of you suddenly mounting him, your sexes rough and needy against him.

He slips a hand around either of your waists and holds you both close.

Perhaps the outside world can wait.

taglist: @angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound@a-mediocore-writer

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #ineffable husbands x reader #good omens x reader #request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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weirdmorefics · 9 months

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I Don't Know Who I am Anymore

(Crowley x Platonic Reader x Aziraphale)

A/n- Sorry, I haven't been finishing requests it's hyperfixation time and this time it's Good Omens. This also can be read as romantic or platonic

Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 1,183

Summary- The reader is an angel more like was and gets cast out of heaven. When they fall they happen to fall directly in front of their good friend Aziraphale's bookshop.

I never expected falling to feel so cold. I just always assumed it would be burning hot as the air pulled you down to hell. I never thought it would happen to me though. I shut my eyes tight and waited for the feeling to pass. I tell myself this nothing I should embrace the cold before I am forced to an eternity of hell fire.

I hit the ground with a huge thud and cracked the pavement below me. I feel like I can't breathe which is a strange thing I have always been perfect as an angel. My wings shielded me from most of the blow from hitting the ground but I am missing a lot of feathers which are now on the ground. I move my wings around to see what is left of them and they are no longer the shiny white I once knew but a dark grey. Just when I started to breathe better from the fall the shock from the sight of my wings left me completely breathless. I start wheezing uncontrollably and try to stand up my vision blurring from my tears. I whip my head back and forth feeling many eyes on me expecting many demons to be staring at the incompetent angel that couldn't make it in heaven but instead, I see a shocking amount of humans pointing electronic devices at me. I turn in a circle and humans surround all sides except behind me there is a familiar bookshop.

Some humans were asking me if I was okay, some were assuming I jumped, and others said I must be on drugs. Then a tiny human came behind and pulled painfully hard on my already sore wings and shouted "Mom their wings are real they are really real!"

At this shout the building from behind me door swings open at high speeds. I instantly recognized him as the angel Aziraphale he used to be my dear friend we even helped Job together. He probably hates me now because I am no longer an angel they probably sent me here to get tortured by the person it would hurt most from. I just wanted nobody to get hurt! All I said is why should we fight Adam he is just a tiny human, he isn't even fully grown yet. I just didn't want a war where all kinds of beings would die and now I am a traitor! I look at Aziraphale with fear in my eyes pleading with him to just let me run.

I try to turn away but he is quick to grab my arm and announce to the crowd, "Be assured this is just a costume for an advertisement of a new book that will be coming to my shop soon! We were just testing that? Isn't that right Y/N?"

I swallow hard and nod in agreement so as to not make the angel hate me even more. The humans find this as an acceptable excuse because they often will accept anything to explain the unexplainable.

Aziraphale pulls me the rest of the way into the building that is filled with shelves and shelves of books.

Another person walks towards us " What was the commotion angel?" His face instantly sours at my presence, "Who is this demon and what are they doing here?"

That can't breathe feeling is back I try to back up towards the door in preparation.

Aziraphale looks at me and back at Crowley "Surely you must be mistaken! This Y/N they helped us with Job!"

"I remember Y/N but they were an angel this is a demon," He states like Aziraphale is blind. He gets closer to look into my eyes "Though they do look remarkably like Y/N. The Y/N we knew though refused to leave heaven after the job incident for her guilt of disobeying God." He rolled his eyes.

I fall to my knees and beg, "Can we end this charade, please? I know I was only sent here to be tortured before my eternity in hell! By those I consider my only true friends."

Aziraphale's jaw lightly drops open in shock, Y/N is the last angel he would ever think of falling. He is stunned speechless and does not move.

Crowley shakes his head and immediately pulls me to my feet, "No, no, no there is no need for that."

"I- I have failed God. I don't know who I am anymore. I have no purpose in this world. I will no longer be accepted by Heaven and Hell will surely not accept me as you said I did not leave Heaven in decades and I fell trying to keep the anti-Christ safe and out of celestial affairs. I am no one!" I rant out so fast I can truly breathe no more I start wheezing and tears blur my vision.

"Crowley I am not quite sure what to do in this situation. I have never witnessed an angel fall in person." He looks at Crowley with uncertained worried eyes.

Crowley walks up to me but I hardly notice in my state until he holds my body still, "Hey breathe! Heaven is idiotic to let you go! You are the most loyal angel I have ever met and so kind it is nauseating. Heaven doesn't deserve all you have done for them and Hell doesn't deserve your kindness! What do you say and join our side!"

I pull out of his grasp still tearful, "Your side! Aziraphale protects the gates and visited me frequently in heaven! He is an Angel and you hardly know me!"

What Y/N doesn't know is that Crowley already knows he frequents Heaven to visit Y/N. She is a common topic among them during their visits to the Ritz. Aziraphale has always regretted getting them involved with Job because it made their love of God turn to fear making her scared to connect to humans and leave Heaven.

"Trust me, I know you Y/N. You have loved humans since day one when you praised Aziraphale for giving his swords to the humans and assured him it was the right decision."

I twiddle my fingers embarrassed "You know about that?"

Aziraphale pipes in nervously, "Yes, sorry about that. I may have told him since you made me feel so much better in my decision. We also may discuss you a lot… I have been worried about you."

This angered "Did you have doubts about me being a good angel and if so why didn't you say anything!"

"Y/N you have to know I didn't imagine anything like this happening. But there has to be a reason you ended up here and not Hell and it isn't to torture you. You are good Y/N and I know it even Crowley knows it. So as Crowley said join us in our mission to prevent armageddon and we will take it one step at a time together."

I take an unsure breath and look at them both, "Ok I will join you."

#aziraphale x reader #good omens x reader #good omens fandom #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #crowly x aziraphale #crowley good omens #crowley x reader #crowley x y/n #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #good omens

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dotster001 · 1 year

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I saw that it said, Requests are open. May I request Jade and Vil with a reader whose personality is similar to Dia from Court of Darkness?

Summary: gn!reader

A/N: when I say it literally took me four months to finish these....

Similar HC's: Leona/JamilxRio voleri reader

Ace/Deuce/Epel x Toa Qelsum reader-coming soon

You probably only met because you were both foraging for mushrooms and literally bumped into each other. It was love at first sight for Jade. Up to this point he'd never thought he was capable of it…but damn, when he saw you holding his favorite mushroom from this area, he swears a chorus of angels started singing.

Floyd and Azul have never seen a lovesick Jade…and it's a little frightening. He's got a dopey smile on his face every time he sees you, even when (especially when) you tear him to shreds with a single sarcastic comment. He's humming to himself as he works around the lounge, and he's seeking out your attention at all hours, doing or saying anything he can for a glimpse of that beautiful smile of yours. He's almost a little like Floyd…and even Floyd is scared of it.

It doesn't take much work to get you to join the mountain lovers club. He got dirt on Crowley, blackmailed him into making joining a club mandatory, and left a pamphlet where you'd conveniently find it after hearing the news. Obviously you would join his club, because you are clearly soulmates and meant to be together forever! *Dreamy sigh*

You're always suggesting solo hikes, but Jade's nothing if not persistent. He agrees to solo hikes. And you take solo hikes together! Plus, he knows where all the best mushrooms are, and he has access to rare ones that you had never seen before. It's easy to Pavlov you into loving him by giving you cool mushrooms whenever he sees you.

You to your friends: "I can't explain it, but I get so excited when I see him!"

Jade: 😈

Anyway….once you start dating, Jade is ecstatic about how affectionate you are. Like a cat he found on the street, who slowly bonded to him. You'll snuggle up against him, and he'll blush and grin like a fool.

He is literal putty in your hands. You tease him flirtily, and he's ready to give you his soul. You give him a hard time about how he always turns beet red when you kiss him, and he'd sell you Floyd's soul. You take him to a secluded spot for a private picnic, and playfully feed him a mushroom, and he'll kill for you.

You only know soft lovesick Jade…and are very confused by all your friends saying he's a terrifying tough guy. Talk about an over exaggeration. 🙄

Your existence upsets Vil. You always look lovely and beautiful, despite never putting any effort into it. You always stay in your room, much like Shroud. And when he tries to help you, you snap at him, very like Epel. You're an annoying potato.

But one day he hears a melodic voice luring him deep into the forest, and sees you singing to the stars. He isn't sure if you cast a love spell on him, but he is instantly in love. Naturally, you are annoyed at the interruption, and storm off.

But that doesn't stop Vil! He is begging you to audition for the SDC. And you keep telling him to fuck off. Vil never thought he'd fall for a tsundere, but damn is this back and forth setting his heart ablaze.

You don't audition….but Vil obviously doesn't have much time to pout about that when he's training the crew, and giving you tasks as their team manager. And he has even less time to pout as he's waking up with a hoarse voice after apparently overblotting. But when he gives you a pleading gaze, you sigh and announce that you'll sing for him.

Of course they won with your voice leading the way! Vil never had a doubt! That's why he tried so hard to get you to audition (also because he loves you, but that's a "surprise" for later)

Later comes sooner than he's expecting when, one day, you're doing homework together and you ask him with a wide grin if he's in love with you.

Let's just say, Vil failed to uphold the image of the fairest queen, that day….

Now you're constantly teasing him. You'll hold his hand and, when he tries to pull away, you pout and say you thought he loved you. You'll trace his lips, then boop his nose, and say you thought he wanted your affection. You'll lean in when you work together, and he'll catch a whiff of his favorite perfume of yours, and you'll tease him about how much his face is burning. It's infuriating for two reasons. The first being that you are absolutely right, he craves all the affection you throw his way.

The second is, in all of this, you have yet to even allude to whether or not you reciprocate his feelings!!!!!! He keeps trying to outplay you, and you expertly sidestep it, and it's an infuriating dance that Vil is getting tired of performing.

So one day, when you're being a tease as per usual, you say something like, "Isn't it normal to want to kiss the person you love?" And he just goes for it. He's ecstatic at how surprised you are by the kiss, but he's even more thrilled when you reciprocate.

Now that you're dating, (which you keep alluding to the fact that you are) you still infuriate him. But at least now you let him into your room. And while you aren't always the chattiest to "outsiders", now he gets to hear your lovely voice all the time. Plus, you're much more snuggly, and Vil secretly just wants to be held, so….

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #twst jade #jade leech #dia akedia #court of darkness #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

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smartycvnt · 1 year

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Left Behind

Title: Left Behind Pairing: Abaddon x Reader Summary: You had been warned not to put your trust in a demon, but you preferred to make your own decisions. NR WC: 892

It was always going to be Sam and Dean in the end. That was something that you had known since you met them, hell you had known it before then too. Your father had been a religious nut who had relished in your brother becoming a prophet at the start of the apocalypse. You had been sent out to find Sam and Dean, which had been easier than you expected it to be. They had seemed almost like guys who didn't want to be found at first, but they had a tendency to leave a bit of a trail behind them. All you had to do was follow the trail and wait at the next town that was showing signs of the end. Still, you had been too late. Almost as if it was some sort of retaliation from God, your hometown had been struck down and completely destroyed. Since then, you had been an occasional guest on some of their hunts, but you preferred to do your own thing most of the time.

"Y/n, we need your help." Dean looked down at you with a pleading look. He was close to begging for your help, which you told him was close to what it would take after the bullshit he had put you through to side with Crowley.

"This isn't any run of the mill monster-," Sam paused, as if he was unsure of what to tell you, "-She's a knight of Hell."

"Abaddon," you filled in. Both boys looked surprised. Sam knew that occasionally you kept tabs on them, but they hadn't expected you to know about this one. You didn't hunt demons because you hated them, you just avoided them at all costs. The less in Crowley's view you were, the better. "We're familiar with each other, which is why I'm telling you now to leave me alone."

"Familiar?" Dean questioned. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what you meant by that. Dean's face fell as he turned to Sam, hopeful that he wouldn't have to say it. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"That she could put Crowley down for good, and maybe, just maybe that if I helped her my place in Hell wouldn't be so bad. The things I've done for the two of you have more than damned my soul to Hell, so if cozying up to her makes the pain and suffering a little shorter, I'd say it's more than worth it. Besides, she seems less likely to leave me behind than you two," you told them. You didn't have to explain yourself to them, but you still did anyways. Obviously your words held some merit because they both backed away after that.

"I think you're making a huge mistake Y/n, and when things come down to the wire, I don't know if we can protect you," Sam warned you. You knew that if things had come down to it, they wouldn't have protected you anyways. Your time was running short anyways, so you might as well have a little fun first. Being one of Abaddon's demons didn't sound nearly as bad as being forced to do something else like buying and selling souls. She could use your strengths as she knew them, just like she had promised.

"They're gone!" you called out. The door was shut and locked, which was when the familiar scent of Abaddon hit you. It was hard to describe, something along the lines of smoke and metal, like she was a weapon literally forged in battle. You had needed a bit of time to get used to it, but you were grateful that she didn't reek of sulfur like some of the other demons you had encountered.

"What did you tell them?" Abaddon asked as she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. You shuddered a little at the feeling of her breath against the back of your neck. Her body felt hot pressed against yours, much hotter than anybody else. It was almost like she was filled to the brim with hellfire, just waiting to break free and burn the world.

"I didn't say much, but they came here asking for my help just like you said they would. Dean's probably running back to tell Crowley about us now. Don't worry though, they don't know about the books," you answered. Abaddon hummed as she pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. "I'd die before I told them what I did."

"If they lay a finger on you, I'll burn the world down before they even know what's happening," Abaddon promised. You wriggled out of her arms to turn around and face her. Abaddon glanced down at you with a serious look on her face. You weren't used to the sincerity from her, and at times, her intensity scared you a little, but you trusted her. To distract yourself from that look, you closed your eyes and kissed her. The gentle press of her lips from before was gone without a trace as she kissed you fiercely. You shouldn't have been so trusting of her because you knew exactly what she was, but Abaddon had already done much more to make sure you wouldn't be left on your own than the Winchesters ever had.

#my writing #abaddon x reader #abaddon #supernatural x reader #supernatural

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sarah-dipitous · 10 months

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 231

Brother’s Keeper/In the Forest of the Night

“Brother’s Keeper”

Plot Description: Realizing the Mark of Cain has pushed him too far, Dean makes a drastic decision, while Rowena readies a spell that could have huge consequences

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: (I don’t think anyone’s going to die in this opening unless we cut to Dean, but for now it’s Sam and Cas arguing about what to do about Dean) we did cut to Dean, and he looked rough, but no one died

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SONNNNNN!! We have somehow come to the end of season TEN. I’ve watched TEN. FULL. SEASONS…are we not going to get the traditional “the road so far”??? Absolutely rude, if there’s ever been a time to play a song about a wayward son, it’s the end of this season. Though I suppose we shouldn’t be encouraging him to carry on the way he has

Dean’s just being a DICK to everyone he meets today, dead or alive.

I love how bored Rowena is with Sam right now. She knows he needs her to do the spell, pointing a gun at her just wastes everyone’s time

Cas is probably right that agreeing to Rowena’s revised terms is a mistake but I’m so glad she’ll be getting her freedom back (with any luck)

I don’t know why Sam is so incredulous about the actual fruit from Eden is real in this universe. He’s standing in a room with an angel and the witch mother of the king of hell. And a tree’s existence is too much for him?? Oh, he’s just mad that the very first ingredient is so impossible to get (as is the second)

The third ingredient thoooooo. This is why I love Rowena. The spell requires her to sacrifice something she loves…unfortunately for everyone needing this spell cast, Rowena doesn’t love anything or anyone. She’d sacrifice whatever it is to gain her freedom, but…

Pfffft, Cas went digging in Rowena’s memories for something she loves and only came up with a Polish peasant boy who’s been dead for a couple centuries

Dean, don’t traumatize the teenage girl further!! Don’t bait the vampire into killing the other hunter and then slice its head off like nothing. Dean, this isn’t you. This isn’t your heart

YEAH! I HOPE YOU’RE HAUNTED BY CAS’S BLOODIED FACE AFTER YOU NEARLY KILLED HIM AND RUDY’S SINCE YOU GOT HIM KILLED

You do not look tough trashing that motel room. You look like an oversized toddler throwing a tantrum

Castiel not having Crowley saved in his phone is so unbelievably funny to me. Omg they’re both so bitchy to each other. Crowley wants Cas to beg for his help, call him King….and Cas will physically do it but you can just tell his words are drenched in sarcasm. I love them both

Hi. I hate this show. Sam just got to the motel room, and amongst the ruin, there were the keys to the impala and a note that said “she’s all yours.” I need them to stop this. I need them to stop hurting me like this

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, DEAN?? Who did you summon? Oh. Cool. Just Death. I have missed seeing him, wish it was under some other circumstances

I hate that after he’s been such an asshole the past few episodes, I’m still drawn in by what a sad wet kicked puppy he looks like right now pleading with Death to kill him. And Death refusing

Had to rewind because I got distracted. Got brought back into focus by the phrase “the proverbial finger in the dike” which my brain interpreted…differently.

Well, damn. Seems like both the brothers now have connections to actual Lucifer (though the darkness of the Mark apparently predates Lucifer, too, so that’s fun)

Of COURSE Dean would never pass the Mark along to anyone else. He has to take on the burden alone…because he’s so fucking eldest daughter coded

Omg even Sam’s “this isn’t you”-ing Dean. This is fine

THE DINER COUNTER WORKER CROWLEY A LITTLE BIT BONDED WITH IS RELEVANT?! HE’S A DESCENDENT OF—OMG NO. HE *IS* THE POLISH BOY. ROWENA MADE HIM IMMORTAL. This is the wildest show…(I take that back. I forgot Riverdale just wrapped up)

Wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf. It’s so fascinating how the tables…they do turn. We’re in such a similar conundrum as last season. Though, instead of sealing the gates of hell, it’s making sure the darkness never gets set free (whatever that is). And instead of…well, no, Sam would be the one to die this time, too, but it’s not like Dean will be much better off somewhere off planet (literally) so he can never hurt anyone else, will never die, will never pass the Mark on. And Dean’s yelling at Sam about being selfish…when he was the one to save Sam’s life at the expense of shutting hell’s gates FOREVER because he couldn’t live without his brother. They are so toxically codependent

Uuuuuggggghhhhh, the writers are ruining Rowena in one scene. I loved that she was cruel and selfish. Now she’s crying over potentially having to kill the boy she saved. He wasn’t supposed to live past 8, and now he’s lived centuries. Kill him, get your freedom, girl. This isn’t you, Rowena. Just kill him

Would it be the end of a season without a knockdown drag out fight between the brothers?? Maybe…but not one in recent seasons, I’m pretty sure

I feel like Sam is lying…..omg, Dean has to kill Sam himself?!?! With Death’s scythe!!

NOT THE PICTURES OF DEAN AND MARYYYYYYY. This is so melodramatic and YET. AND YET. I’m still on the verge of tears

So what NOW, DEAN?! You just KILLED DEATH (I knew he wasn’t gonna kill Sam, but I did get swept up in the emotions of the scene) they really do just keep screwing over Death. I feel bad for him

Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Ugh, finally.

No no nooooooo, you were only supposed to harm the Polish boy, not turn Cas into a rabid animal to attack Crowley. Crowley I could, to an extent, take or leave, but CASSSSSSSSS

Did you unleash the darkness, boys? Did you? (I know TECHNICALLY it was Rowena, but who forced her hand?)

This seems fine…😬

“In the Forest of the Night”

Plot Description: The Doctor discovers that the final days of humanity have arrived

(I really how we get Missy for real soon. Truly I just want to be tandem simping for her and Rowena)

Not going to lie, I think it’d look pretty cool if we let a forest overtake a good portion of London. Those giant lion statues in Trafalgar Square just in the middle of the woods? Would look so cool

Omg…they had no idea what happened to London……sorry, the whole world, while they were doing a sleepover at some museum or another. Could be the natural history one. So it was QUICK quick

The little girl raises an excellent series of questions. Why CANT they just wait for a coach? Why CANT they wait for the trees to disappear? They did simply appear overnight. The answer, of course, because that wouldn’t be much of an episode

Why isn’t one of you staying behind the group of kids?? One of you should lead and the other should be behind so none of the kids get LITERALLY left behind

Do these kids not remember the weird custodian who was at their school not too long ago? Why do none of them recognize the Doctor?

Kids on the TARDIS remind me of when kids come into the branch. They have no business there, it’s kind of boring to them, but they WILL find a way to pass the time “aren’t any of you surprised it’s bigger on the inside” “there wasn’t a forest, now there is a forest. Nothing surprises me anymore”

Pfffffft, these kids shipping their teachers are so worried for their relationship

It’s like this episode invented the manic pixie fourth grader…Maebh is strange, she has so many of the answers the Doctor is looking for, she has some kind of mysterious past (she’s suffering from some kind of trauma likely related to someone she’s lost), she can’t stop getting lost in the woods…I want to protect this child but the writers are just being insufferable about her. She’s little red riding hood (even wearing a red raincoat)

Omg, why is she so special she can literally communicate with the forest?

So some…ancient plant growing sprite thingies and they are calling a solar flare to destroy earth

It’s weird when a companion sends the Doctor away to save him

Sure, that should be no problem. Give the task of saving the planet to a group of 10 year olds

Another tiny tiny scene of Missy

And Earth is saved, and the forest is gone, having protected the planet once more

And Maebh’s missing sister returned home

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 3 years

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I have another question: Have you read the demon slayer manga by any chance? If so, how far into it are you? like have you eat all of the chapters already? Cause I got the idea where even after MC is sent back to their original world, the boys are still able to check up on how MC is doing through the mirror from the opening ceremony. That way when MC eventually participates in the final fight against Muzan they get the chance to truly see MC in action which brings me to my actual question (Assuming you've read everything to avoid spoilers) how would they react to the severity of MCs injuries against Muzan or even some of the upper moons? Based on their personalities who do you think would be cheering for MC, begging them to live another day so they can have a chance to meet again since they're absolutely working on a way with Crowley to bring them back. Since this is the battle against the big boss,it means demon slayers won't be necessary and it'll be fine for MC to live the rest of their days in peace at NRC or in the world of NRC right? on the other hand, who do you think would instead be hoping that MC will stay down and receive medical treatment, let the other slayers handle the rest of the battle because they're already so badly injured they really shouldn't push themselves any further and they can't bear to see their friend hurt so badly (Considering what happens to a majority of the cast, if MC is a pillar, Ooooooh boy.)

I also found an absolutely amazing demon slayer video that's fan made but I don't want to risk spoiling anything cause it's way later on in the series, hence why I asked earlier.

So I just read some of the manga (not in order cause being orderly and me do not mix)

Decided to detail the fights more cause they can all be summed up to “worried as heck” with varying degrees

WARNING SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA OF DEMON SLAYER (I TALK ABOUT SOME OF THE UPPER MOON FIGHTS, WHO BEATS THEM AND SOME IMPORTANT STUFF ON THE TANJIRO FIGHT. ALSO A SPOILER FOR THE DEMON SLAYER MOVIE Y’ALL KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT)

The upper moon fights that MC likely participate in are the Hantengu fight and Douma or Kokushibo (I will cover both) before Muzan

Being a successor of a Hashira, if they were the flame pillar or the sound pillar’s tsugoku it’s likely they might even join the hashira if deemed skilled enough and since they joined in overblot fights, their skills definitely weren’t slacking so it’s likely they have

During the Hantengu fight they join Mitsuri in fighting Hantengu’s strongest clone so the others can go for the main body but since Mitsuri was the one to jump in and get the attack to the face and recalls her past, only she awakens the demon slayer mark

Douma has a past of pissing people off and ruining families and if they were Shinobu’s tsugoku alongside Kanao then they know full well what she plans to do and Adeuce and the others really wish they could go and comfort MC as the grief on their face at the idea of their master dying is clear

If MC is a girl and joins Shinobu in the fight, they might wind up getting eaten by Douma alongside Shinobu if they fight well enough and Kanao doesn’t make it in time, in this scenario Lilia and several other Diasomnia members have to calm Malleus down as his anger at watching his friend die while being helpless is clear as the others grieve

Luckily in this scenario, if the mirror keeps on to at least see Shinobu’s plan through then they get to see Douma’s defeat by his own gluttony with Kanao and Inosuke dealing the finishing blow

If they end up not being eaten or just don’t catch Douma’s interest (either by not being a female, them being saved by Kanao in the fight or other possible reasons), Grim really wishes he could join and melt all the ice created by Douma as his blood demon art starts to freeze them as they throw their own swords alongside Inosuke (or help in some other way) to assist Kanao in finishing the blow against Douma and ending him once and for all

Azul, Jade, Jamil, Leona, Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Rook, Vil and the teachers have to applaud Shinobu for her suicidal yet extremely effective plan, they likely would not defeated Douma without her and hope she rests in peace (ngl her death broke my heart lol)

If they ended up fighting Kokushibo, they’re all pretty shocked to see the regenerative abilities of a demon both from Kokushibo and Genya, they had heard about it from MC but seeing the extent of how far it can go in this fight amazes them

The Kokushibo fight seems allergic to letting people under the age of 18 survive (Muichiro death was sad but Genya death animated may actually emotionally break me) so it’s very possible that they die in the fight as after all Kokushibo is the strongest demon moon that probably spits on Upper moon 6’s 22 pillars killed so it’s very unlikely that they could ever leave this fight unscathed or with their life

Jack has to help Adeuce and Grim who are breaking down as they watch their friend who they were hanging out with the other day like normal teenagers would, give their life to defeat the demon who has killed hundreds of people

The older members of the cast like the teachers, Malleus and Lilia all have moments of silence for the young lives slain by the man who was obsessed with being the strongest samurai

In the Muzan fight (if they make it there alive), since they’re stronger than many other members, the lower ranked demon slayers give their lives to protect them a gruesome sight that characters like Kalim have to cover their eyes to all the death and gore in the mirror

MC like Tanjiro and the hashira get poisoned by Muzan’s blood and all of them think it’s the end until Tamayo’s cat comes in and saves them, avid dog lovers like Crewel have to give props to the cat for saving their lives

It’s possible that at the memory of the twst cast waiting for them to win and the family they’ve lost yo Muzan, MC gets their demon slayer mark to help them in the fight against Muzan, luckily if they are aware of the demon slayer mark’s deadly condition from Kokushibo, the more experienced magicians and potions experts like Crewel, Vil, etc. believe that if MC gets through the fight they could create a way to prevent the demon slayer mark from ending their life at the young age of 25 something that brings hope to all of them

Of course optimistic thoughts like that can also be crushed at the end of the fight after Muzan disintegrates under the sun once and for all since they could’ve received fatal injuries in the fight until dawn and die with the kakushi trying to save them, while the others plead for them to be sent back to their world so they can receive immediate treatment and are reminded of the fact that they likely won’t make it and are forced to just let them die surrounded by their comrades

If they manage to survive the fight against Muzan (likely having one of their senses permanently ruined, having a lot of permanent scars on their body or even missing a limb or two) and are ready to just retire for the rest of their life and they receive a message from the twst cast are always welcome to have them back if they want to retire in their world

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x demon slayer #demon slayer x twisted wonderland #demon slayer #twst x demon slayer #demon slayer x twst

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

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after the credits

to thirteen years of cas and of the greatest love story ever told...an empty rescue fic for y’all :) 2.3k, read on ao3 here

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After a while, Castiel gets tired of watching. He’s practically dreaming all the time, but he’s so tired.

Eternal sleep is not restful.

He can’t leave the Empty, but he manages to mold it, with his mind, into a theater. He went to one once, with Dean, and there are probably nicer theaters, like those for plays and operas, but this movie theater is right for him. If he concentrates, he can almost smell burnt, buttery popcorn and spilled soda and old carpet, and Dean right next to him, aftershave and car oil and whiskey.

Almost.

The scenes unfold in a memorable order, because they’re Cas’s own memories. At first, he tried to jump in, alter the scene, but he’s powerless. So, like clockwork, he watches. He’s saving Dean in hell. He’s being stabbed in the chest by the same man he raised. He’s asking Dean to get answers from Alastair and then almost getting the grace pressed out of him. He’s slamming his palm onto a bloody sigil. He’s--

Everything, all of his twelve years on earth, pass by, over and over and over again.

Right now, it’s an early scene, not far into the cycle. It’s not one of his favorites, because he can see the expression on his face, remembers exactly how he felt. Remembers that he he was feeling at all.

“That was a pretty awkward kiss, huh?”

Cas turns sharply at the sound of Dean’s voice. Of course, Dean does talk in this scene, before he kisses Anna. But this Dean is sitting next to him, frowning at the screen.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Cas says.

“I know.”

Chances are this is just the Empty trying to mess with him. Last week a random trashcan showed up in his theater. Or maybe it was last year, or a millenia ago, or five minutes from now. Time is weird.

They keep watching in silence. On the screen, in the memory, Cas’s head jerks away from the sight of Dean and Anna kissing. The scene flips then, to a park at night, Anna right in front of Cas, no Dean in sight.

“For the first time, I feel...” Memory-Cas says.

“It gets worse,” Anna warns.

“So your first feeling….” Dean starts.

“It was something.” Cas can’t look at him. The scene on-screen changes.

Dean, to his merit, doesn’t press.

The memories progress through the year they spent trying to stop the apocalypse, the year that ended with Sam diving into the pit and Dean going off to Lisa’s. Then through Cas starting to work with Crowley, a conversation that happened right behind Dean without his knowledge.

On-screen, Cas is watching Dean rake leaves. The expression on his face is nearly mournful. After a moment, Crowley steps into view.

“Ah, Castiel. Angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?” Crowley says.

“What are you doing here?” Memory-Cas asks.

“I want you to help me help ourselves.”

“Speak plain.”

Crowley smirks. “I want to discuss a simple business transaction. That’s all.”

“You want to make a deal? With me? I’m an Angel, you ass. ”

The scene flips again.

“Is there a way to pause this?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “It just does this, on a loop. I can’t sleep. The Empty won’t let me.” He puts a hand on the armrest between them. “I forced the theater up, to make it better.”

“It looks a lot like that theater we went to once.”

“I know.” Cas stares at Dean for a moment, looks away.

Many of these scenes are things Dean knows of. Cas works with Crowley, gets locked in a ring of fire, feels his chest seize up as Dean looks back for a moment. Watches the Leviathans lead him to a lake. They meet again on porch steps, Cas unable to remember who he is but still able to figure out that Dean is important. Cas gets his memories back, takes on Sam’s hell trauma. They go to Purgatory, Cas stays behind. It’s like clockwork.

Until.

“I don’t remember that,” Dean says slowly, watching himself die on the screen. “You never--you’ve never killed me.”

“Yes and no.” Cas knows what’s coming next--he’s going to kill Dean thousands of times. Each one is the same, with Cas in tears as these copies, mock-ups of Dean struggle, beg and plead, tell him not to. Each time, Naomi makes him do it again.

Until, finally, he doesn’t hesitate.

And she says he’s ready.

As they watch that scene in the crypt unfold, with the real Dean at Cas’s mercy, Dean leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs and propping his chin in his hands. “You lied.”

“Hm?”

“You said you didn’t know what broke the connection.” Dean twists his head to look at Cas. “But you did.”

“I did,” Cas assents.

They watch Cas ride cross-country on a bus, pulling out his phone and almost calling Dean over and over again.

“Is there a way that we can see some of my memories?” Dean asks.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”.

Dean shrugs. “Well, I am here, and you figured out how to make a friggin movie theater, so I think I can do it.”

The image on the screen shudders, coalesces, breaks into a million pieces and then reforms. Dean is standing on the edge of a lake, picking up Cas’s coat, still covered in Leviathan goo. “You dumb son of a bitch,” Memory-Dean mutters, wrapping up the coat in his arms.

The scene flickers again--the coat in those same hands, moving from car to car to car, and then being passed to Cas. “I always knew you’d come back ,” Memory-Dean says. It’s a soft scene, almost, but then it flips to Dean seizing a monster’s collar in purgatory. He’s covered in blood and grime as he shoves the monster up against a tree, practically growling, “Where’s the angel?”

Even after the monster answers, Dean guts him.

It’s a cycle. The memory blurs through sleepless nights, through Dean stepping into streams to pray, prayers Cas knows well. It pushes past Cas letting go of Dean’s arm in the portal, and here’s something else new: Dean sees Cas on the side of the road, sees him outside the window while it pours down rain, sitting bolt upright at the phantom sight of Cas’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cas finally asks. This must really be Dean, after all. The Empty wouldn’t know these things, wouldn’t be able to dream them up. They’re too good, too honest.

“To bring you home.” Dean kicks the back of the seat in front of him, leans back in his own chair.

“I can’t go home.”

“You should.” The scene on screen rapidly changes--it’s Dean as he looks now, carrying a little boy on his back. The little boy is blonde, round-faced, holding onto Dean’s neck for dear life, laughing as Dean swings around.

“Is that--” No, it can’t be.

“Yep. He’s four, you know.” Dean clears his throat. “He misses you.”

“I wish I could have gotten to say good-bye.” Cas trails off.

“Come home. Then you never have to say it.”

Cas shakes his head. On the screen, Dean is reading to Jack, Jack following the words with a chubby finger. “It would be...awkward.”

“How?” Dean raises an eyebrow. “We’re family, dude. Jack misses you, Sam misses you, and Eileen’s been hanging around, and me…” Dean clamps his mouth shut.

That’s why.

“Things aren’t going to be the same. Not after…” Cas takes a deep breath. “What I said. We won’t be able to ignore it.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Dean--”

“You don’t know?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “You don’t know. Okay. I, uh…” The screen turns black.

“You what?” Cas is almost afraid to know.

“I didn’t want you to see this.”

The blackness unfurls into Billie’s library, Dean standing in front of her. They’re clearly in the middle of a conversation.

“What do you want me to say?” Memory-Dean asks. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. ”

“Don’t you?” Billie replies.

“I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.”

“Dean--” Cas starts, but Dean just looks at the floor, like he’s trying to avoid this.

“You really believe that,” Billie says. “You wanna die.”

“When was this?” Cas asks, speaking over the rest of Billie’s statement.

“It was...right before we, uh, got the call from you. That you were back.” Dean leans his head all the way up, looks at what would be the movie theater’s ceiling, if it wasn’t in the void. “I had a bad time. I…I would show it to you. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I held it together enough to wrap your body and burn it…”

“Hunter’s funeral.”

“Only kind I know how to do.” Dean swallows, audibly. “I’m doing what I can now. Having Jack to take care of, and Eileen around, too, helps. But it’s…” He finally looks at Cas again. “Please let me take you home. Please come home with me.”

Cas would do anything for Dean Winchester. He has done anything for him before. So he will grant him this, at least the illusion, because Cas knows he can’t leave the Empty. He’s trapped here for eternity.

He takes Dean’s hand.

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

There is a little boy crawling on him.

“Daddy,” the boy says, poking his face, “I know you’re awake.”

“Jack,” Dean says, from somewhere up above, “Cas is still sleeping.”

Cas blinks rapidly. “‘M not.”

“Shouldn’t’ve said that.” Dean releases Jack, and Jack fully clambers onto Cas.

“I missed you,” Jack says.

“I missed you too.” Cas holds onto him, tight. He’s so small, like he’s supposed to be. A kid. Safe.

Cas thinks he might be in Dean’s bed.

The bunker, he discovers, looks much the same. He was gone for four months, in which time Dean and Sam took care of Chuck, Jack became a kid, and Eileen became a permanent fixture. When Dean and Sam aren’t looking, she signs to Cas, “He already looks better.”

“Who, Dean?” Cas signs back.

Eileen nods. “He had a pretty bad time.”

Dean turns around then, and Eileen presses a finger to her lips.

There’s not a quiet moment for the rest of the day. Sam explains what happened--”You might be human now,” he says, and Cas replies, “I’m not tired yet.”--and Jack wants Cas to read to him and play Barbies and racecars and puppets (apparently Dean built Jack’s little puppet theater, which--).

After dinner (spaghetti and meatballs, and Dean has a Coke instead of beer, Cas notices), everyone goes off to bed, and Cas realizes he is tired, which is something to think about.

He starts to head to the room he typically stays in, but Dean seizes the top of his arm. “Nope, you’re coming with me.” Dean drags Cas down the hall towards his room.

Cas hadn’t gotten a good luck at it earlier, what with Jack climbing all over him, but he sees it now. Dean’s bed unmade, scraps of random paper littered across the dresser, a picture Cas recognizes because he and Dean are wearing cowboy hats, and now he knows how Dean was really doing right before that case in Dodge City--

There’s also a dent in the wall. That’s new.

Dean follows Cas’s gaze. “I chucked a whiskey bottle at it. Sam took the rest of my stash the next day.” Dean steps over, brushing the drywall’s cracks with his fingers. “I didn’t fix it up so I wouldn’t forget.”

I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.

“Dean,” Cas says, “Tell me in words.”

“What?” Dean turns away from the wall. “Tell you what?”

“You know.”

Dean swallows, licks his lips. “I’d say don’t ever do that again on the whole dying thing, but I said that to you once and you didn’t listen. And maybe if I say it the right way now, you’ll stay, but…” Dean slumps, sits on the bed. “You can’t leave again.”

Cas touches the wall himself before sitting next to Dean on the bed. “I’m not going to.” He isn’t sure if he’s allowed to touch Dean.

Dean touches him instead, leaning into Cas, finding one of Cas’s hands, holding it tight. He’s crying, Cas realizes. “I love you,” Dean says into their joined hands, then his chest wracks with a sob. “I was always so sure that if--” another sob, “If I said it, you’d leave. Get taken away from me.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Cas repeats.

He isn’t sure how long they sit like that, but Dean finally straightens up, lets go of Cas’s hand, wipes his eyes with the back of his own. “Pajamas,” Dean says, standing and crossing to the dresser. “We gotta get you some of your own, but…” He digs a pair of sweats out of the drawer and tosses them to Cas. “These’ll do for tonight.”

Cas doesn’t ask if he can stay. Dean doesn’t ask him to leave.

With the lights out, it’s pitch black, almost as inky as the Empty, but Cas can hear Dean breathing, so close to him. The bed is almost too small for both of them, so they’re nearly chest-to-chest. Hardly ever have they been this close. Never did Cas dare to dream it.

In the dark, under the covers, the world outside of this room, Dean kisses him. It’s flat, soft, a brush of lips, the barest ghost, but it’s enough. More than enough.

Cas is home.

#offbeatwrites #it's DEANCASAVERSARY #IT'S CAS DAY #IT'S CAS'S BIRTHDAY #it's also one of my best friend's birthdays she has the best birthday huh #anyways I don't really know where this fic came from I just went hey. what if cas hadmovie theater #and I LOVEEEEE the trope of them showing each other their memories. there was so much stuff that if they'd just TALKED about it..........#god.#anyways! enjoy :)#also yeah minor similarities to a drabble I wrote this summer #that was very much an accident but I think they're different enough

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onionsaremeansstuff · 3 years

Text

Barriers fall

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Gender: Male

Warnings: Drinking

Summary: Castiel can’t love you, can he?

I dont own the character or the gif

Beta’d by the incredible @chaoticgaysstuff

The bitter taste of alcohol burns your throat as you poured yourself another drink.

You didn't really like to drink. You weren't really much of a drinker. Sometimes only having a glass or two, but tonight you needed to get blackout drunk to stop the feeling of pain and heartbreak in your heart.

The dusk hid you and your actions. The shadows were the cruel lover who comforts you while you cut yourself with the pieces of your own heart.

It wasn't really Cas that you were upset with. You were mostly upset with yourself for falling in love with someone who doesn't love, or even like you back.

Many years going by of you creating lies just to ignore the harsh truth.

The truth that Cas doesn't like you back.

No matter how many times the two of you spent together. Or how many times you hung out with the Angel. Or how many times you would get hurt on hunts just to have Cas heal you. He would only see you as a friend, or a partner.

Besides did Cas even like men? Did Angel's even have sexualities? But you ended up remembering that Cas said that he is indifferent to sexual orientation. Which means that he definitely could be into men.

"The reason he doesn't love me back is because he is an angel. He doesn't have feelings or emotions. He isn't human. He's a soldier. It's not because I'm not good enough." You told yourself, trying to reassure yourself, but you didn't even believe the words that were coming out of your mouth.

That was the first lie you told yourself to not get your hopes up and fall in love with him.

As days became weeks, and weeks became months, you we're finally starting to get over Cas.

Until Meg arrived to tell you about Crowley's wearabouts.

When Cas pushed Meg against the wall and kissed her passionately, you felt jealous and the feelings that you tried so hard to keep from resurfacing has finally resurfaced.

You knew that the kiss was only a distraction, but that didn't stop you from feeling hurt. Why couldn't you be the one to kiss him?

"The kiss was only a distraction. That's it, nothing more. He doesn't like her like that." You told yourself.

That was the second lie you told yourself. Created to protect your heart.

And this one remained standing for sometime since she was out of our lives.

Your heart found comfort in the cold barriers that protected it.

Until the day he fell along with the other Angels.

You called out to him. Prayed to him, but he never answered. You knew that something was wrong because he always answers your prayers. Even more than he answers Dean's prayers.

You were going to find Cas himself because if the other Angels fell then Metatron needed someone's grace to do it. And you were betting that he used Cas grace to do it. Which means, he is human.

Dean and Sam managed to stop you before you could leave.

"You can't just go out looking for Cas, especially when the Angels just fell." Dean said to you, holding onto your wrist, not letting you make it a foot up the stairs.

"You dont understand, Dean. He's human now! And we have to find him before the other Angels kill him."

Sam and Dean saw how your eyes were pleading for them to help you and they finally gave in.

You ended up saving him, or that Gadreel person more specifically.

And it turns out that you were right. Cas was human. And in the back of your mind there was a voice that said you finally have a chance, so you were planning on telling him your feelings until the next sentence that came out of the ex Angels mouth.

"I had sex with April."

In that moment, you realized something. Cas could love someone and have sex with someone. He could feel attracted to someone.

He just doesn't feel anything for you.

And for the very first time, you felt pain in your heart. Something that you never wanted to experience.

Gosh. You felt like an idiot now.

Feeling worried for Cas and thinking you had a chance with him.

So, you found comfort in the bitterness of alcohol that was constantly burning your throat.

Hoping that you could finally pass out and forget your pathetic existence for a while.

"What happened in here?" Sam asked, noticing the bottles of alcohol littered all over the kitchen table in the bunker, where you were currently passed out at.

"Looks like Y/N dranked himself to sleep." Dean said, wondering why his friend even got drunk in the first place. He walked over to you and picked you up off of the chair, "Help me take him to his room, Sammy."

Sam went on the other side of you and lifted you up.

As they walked towards your room, Cas walked out of his room which was 3 doors down from yours, and saw the brothers carrying you, who was passed out.

"What happened to Y/N?" Castiel asked the brothers, an unknown feeling welling up inside his chest at seeing Y/N like this. What was this feeling?

"Y/N dranked too much alcohol." Dean answered.

"I thought that he hardly drinks?" Cas questioned, feeling an emotion that could only be described as concern.

"He doesn't drink that much. Something must have happened to him for him to get like this." Sam said quickly, wanting to hurry up and take you to your room since you were quite heavy.

The two brother continued walking down the hall with Cas following behind them. Once they entered your room, they placed you on the bed and Cas stood by your bed.

"Cas, Sam and I are going to see if we can find something to improve Sam's health. Stay here with him." Dean told Castiel as Sam and him left the room, but Castiel stopped Dean.

Wait! What about him? Will he be okay?" The ex angel spoke, pointing at you.

Dean waved Cas off, "He'll be fine." And he closed the door behind him.

Castiel sighed and looked down at your sleeping figure. He sat on the other side of your bed and ran his fingers through your hair, "Why did you do this to yourself, Y/N?" Castiel muttered.

You woke up with a loud groan, "Ow!" You exclaimed. Your whole body was aching from head to toe.

But the pain your were feeling was nothing compared to the pain in your heart.

"Good morning, Y/N. Or more like afternoon now." You heard Castiel's voice. You opened your eyes and he was standing over you with a bottle of water in one hand and a pill in the other. "While exploring the internet, i read that pills usually help when having a hangover," He held it out towards you, but you didn't take and continued to just stare at it. Cas frowned slightly, "This will make you feel better."

Castiel's voice throbbed in your head. The mixture of inner anger along with your aching head, and feelings for Cascaused you to not care about what's about to come out of your mouth.

"And since when do you care about my well-being, Castiel?" You barked and Castiel's eyes widened in surprise. Where was this coming from?

"What do you mean by that?" He asked softly, not wanting to see you explode like that again.

You knew you should stop speaking now, but you were still a little drunk right now and everything you've been feeling is finally going to come out.

"You can't hurt me and then pretend to care about me, Cas. You can't cut me with a knife and then put a bandage on it." You barked once again as your head throbbed in pain.

Castiel continued to stare at you, not understanding what you we're talking about.

"What are you talking about Y/N? I don't understand what I did to hurt you." He spoke, desperate to figure out what he did that caused you pain.

You sighed, "You didn't do anything, Cas. I did this to myself, but I can't deal with this anymore. Just leave me alone." You said, feeling tears start to form in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

The ex angel was very confused.

"Explain what is going on to me, Y/N. Please, I want to be able to help you and apologize for what I did even without knowing what I did." He begged, setting the pills and water down on the bedside table, taking a hold of your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There's really nothing to explain. I was just an idiot to think someone as amazing and selfless as you could like me back." You said, tears finally flowing from your eyes.

Cas wiped away the tears from your eyes. He didn't like seeing you cry.

"But I do like you, Y/N. I consider you what humans call a best friend. Your my best friend, Y/N." Cas stated, and smiled in an attempt to stop you from crying, even though he didn't understand why this was something to cry about.

You let out a humorless chuckle. You decided that you would not hold in your feelings any longer. You would tell him the truth.

"But I like you as more than just a friend, Cas!" You exclaimed, "I love you as more than a friend. The way I feel for you is different for what I feel for Dean and Sam. I have feelings for you and I wanna be with you. I wanna be with you for the rest of my life." You told him, staring at the wall not even wanting to see his reaction.

It was silent for a while. And that made you think that you fucked up. You just ruined your friendship with Cas. You were about to leave the room, planning on going to the bar, or leaving the bunker forever, but Cas took your chin and made you look at him. You couldn't though, and instead started looking down.

"I have feelings for you too, Y/N." Cas said softly.

You snapped your head up to look at him. Did he really just say that he had feelings for too? "W-What did you just s-say?"

"I said I have feelings for you, Y/N."

You shook your head slightly, still not believing that the man you have been crushing on for years likes you back.

"B-But... but you never showed any interest in me before. And what about Meg and April? You kissed Meg a-and had sex with April."

Cas looked down, feeling ashamed.

"I… I didn't understand feelings very well. I still don't understand them that well. But I knew that I felt something for you and I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Castiel replied, feeling ashamed that he was the reason for you getting drunk, "I was deeply ashamed of myself after teaming up with Crowley and the fall of the angels. I didn't want anything to happen between us because I'm a failure, Y/N. You are amazing person and incredible human being. I didn't think that I deserved to be anything more than a friend. Sometimes, I feel like I don't deserve to be your friend," Tears were coming out of Castiel's eyes, "So, I decided to never tell you about my feelings, but I only ended up hurting you in the end. I'm so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive me. I beg you to forgive me." Castiel begged, tightening his grip on your hand. His blue eyes stared at you, begging you to forgive him.

You planted a gentle kiss on his lips, "You are already forgiven. It would be kinda hard not to forgive you. And all of that stuff with Crowley is in the past now. It's time to forgive yourself, okay?" He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you, "And please don't do that again. My heart and kidneys can't go through that again." You joked.

"I promise to never do that again," He gave you a hug and buried his face into the crook of you neck, "Now, it's time to take your medicine. I'll get us something to eat."

"Yes sir," You took the pill and the previous conversation came back to your mind, "Wait. Cas, do you even know how to cook?"

#Male reader #x male reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #castiel x reader #castiel x male reader #castiel x male!reader

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

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In Another Life

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader x Aziraphale Summary: “Come on, we might have all the time in the world, but life is an undetermined thing.” Word Count: 1,122 Warning: Homophobia, death mentioned. A/n: So, like some, if not all requests have disappeared from my ask so rn y’all wanna request some game of thrones, good omens, criminal minds shit - kinda avoiding twilight, tvd, and a bit of marvel stuff rn.

In the 6000 years that the two great entities have existed, there is one human that has always stuck in their minds.

A foreign memory that just keeps them jittery, somewhat excited, somewhat anxious. The Tudor rich boy from a high-status family, a charming smile with a spark in his eyes. Not like most Tudor men, who were very disgusting in the way they acted with money and power, especially those who wanted their way with women.

You were soft-spoken, admired Shakespeare’s plays. You were well educated, handsome - perhaps of all of England, women had flocked towards you. Though, you never accepted such nice gestures. You got to know the two beings, the pair of them actually cannot remember how you met or how you came to be one of their greatest companions.

“You’re not so bad, (Y/n),” Aziraphale commented as you scoffed, “I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

“I think you’re not bad enough,” Crowley placed his input dryly.

“Well, thank you,” You responded.

You knew their big secret, there was no one else for you to be telling their secret, so they were comfortable in confiding in you. Often getting juicy gossip from Hell or Heaven, which always brighten your day when you’re down.

“I have a death sentence over my head,” You hummed, getting dinner sorted for yourself, knowing that the angel and demon do not eat unless it was for fun.

“Pardon?” Aziraphale exclaimed as you chuckled and shrugged.

“I saw it coming, really, still saddening, I must admit,” You explained to the two of them, “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” Aziraphale questioned as Crowley was silent at the matter.

“Queen Elizabeth has reinstated all sodomy laws? In which, her father’s law of all male-male sexual activity is punishable by death,” You shrugged your shoulders, “I come from a high-status family, I get looked upon more often, can’t be setting that type of examples for my family.”

“They won’t protect you?” Crowley asked, baffled as you let your shoulders fall in defeat.

Smiling weakly, you explained yourself softly, “Father doesn’t want to accept me as his son anymore since I’ve been caught. Mother is begging him alongside my sisters but he’s pretty set. I have a trial tomorrow, but I can imagine it won’t favour me.”

“What?” Crowley exclaimed, “I mean we can’t do anything-”

“Not even a little miracle?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, his fingers gesturing a small gap in between, desperate to save you. You could hear the little plead from the Angel’s tone.

“I don’t expect to be saved,” You pulled out a bottle of wine, “I want to spend my last days with my friends.”

“And that we shall,” Crowley pulls the bottle from your hand to start pouring everyone a glass.

“And one last thing, before I do die,” Your voice was somewhat gentle and nervous, “I would like to thank you for all the great memories you’ve given me. You have been the only two men that I would say I have most definitely fallen in love with you and who knows? I’ll find you in the next life?”

And so they hoped, they hope to come across you again. They had imagined what you’d look like in different attires. Crowley believes you’ll look good in the seventies wear and Aziraphale would have loved to see you Victorian Era clothing. But, there was no sign of you, and often times the two had ever wondered if you were just living at those times but was just missing them by a hair.

But, it was the modern times now, a few months from the whole situation with Lucifer’s son had passed over. And you were just a distant memory.

“I’m sorry; I can’t help but feel...but, do I know you two?”

Aziraphale and Crowley stop their conversation, Crowley immediately rolling his snake eyes behind his sunglasses as the two looked over to the intruder. Upon inspection, the two was stunned. There, before them, was some sort of sick joke and yet a miracle made by God, herself.

“Maybe, I’ve got it wrong, but I feel like I must have known you in some sort of past life?”

You wore an oversized jumper with your rolled-up cuffed jeans, luckily it was warm enough to venture out London with no jacket or umbrella. There were a few rings on your fingers, glasses upon the bridge of your nose and a beanie. You looked soft and just as handsome as ever. You tilted your head, wearing that charming smile and the sparkle in your eye.

“Maybe?” Aziraphale was the one to snap out of it first, holding his hand out to you, “Aziraphale, and this is Crowley,” The Demon nodded, “Nice to meet you-?”

“Oh!” You shake the angel’s hand, “(Y/n).”

The two had to pretend not to freak out that you were most definitely that person back in Elizabethan Era. In your hands you held some of Shakespeare books, ones that Aziraphale had collected, in fact, he stole them from your house after it had been confirmed of your death. You were to make sure you had signed them in the first page in the top rightmost corner, Aziraphale made sure it was signed by William himself.

Hoping that one day, you would come across Aziraphale and remember the times with him and Crowley. He wanted to surprise you, that is if he were to ever see you again.

“Huh, your names sound very familiar to me, and that’s saying something since Aziraphale and Crowley are pretty rare names to come about.”

“Why don’t we head out for lunch?” Crowley suggested as Aziraphale nodded ecstatically.

“Leave the books here, we can check them out later, but we must talk to see if we actually know each other,” Aziraphale placing the books out of your hands and onto the desk, you looking mildly lost at their sudden change of behaviour.

From exasperated as you interrupted them to almost joyful and in a hurry to know you. But, the two great entities wanted you to remember them so soon because they lost an opportunity of love and romance the first time, it had ruined them to bits. Often imagining what could have been.

“Uh, okay?” You tilted your head at the two, who looked at each other, “Why are we in such a hurry.”

“Just excited,” Crowley hummed, “That’s all (Y/n).”

Arizaphale clapped his hands, “Come on, we might have all the time in the world, but life is an undetermined thing, wouldn’t want to waste it.”

You smiled as Crowley and Aziraphale grab you by the hand, you chuckled as you responded to Aziraphale’s statement.

“Yeah, but there’s always another life.”

#ineffable husbands x male reader #crowley x male reader x aziraphale #anthony j crowley imagine #anthony j crowley x male reader #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale x male reader #good omens #good omens imagine #good omens x male reader #x male reader

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

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metamorphosis

Chapter 1 (ao3)

Prologue (ao3) (tumblr)

What if, when Jack was born, he stayed a baby?

A retelling of season 13, with a few key differences.

No planned schedule, will update when I finish chapters lol

Chapter 1 - Dean I

“Cas?”

Dean waited, watching Cas’s lips. He waited for his name to be spoken, said in that same mixture of fondness and exasperation and gravel that ticked the tempo of his heart up a notch. He waited for his angel to smile, then tell Dean that he’s fine; that it wasn’t more than a scratch, that he’s still here.

Any minute now.

“…Cas?” Dean’s voice sounded scratchy, raw, like a needle ripped through a spinning record. He blinked back his tears, embarrassed, because Cas might wake soon and see him break, see him not be strong enough. His gaze broke from Cas’s bluing lips, staring at the starless sky above. He saw night begin its transition to early morning, a sun sliver dipping into the horizon, and wondered how long Cas will play with him like this. How long will Cas pretend to lie there? How long will Cas insist that he’s –

“Cas!” Even with the extra help from gravity, Dean couldn’t stop the pinprick tears tracing their way down to his ears, wetness setting his skin aflame. He choked on a sob, the rubber band of his body snapping and recoiling into itself. His shoulders shook. He squeezed tight to his stomach. Dean closed his eyes, but inside that shuttered darkness was Cas, emerging from the portal. Cas with the blade in his hand. Cas with a blade, poking out his chest. “Oh… oh, God…”

He’s really gone. He’s gone and Dean hurt. Dean hurt so much.

Dean cracked one eye open, then another. In his periphery, he saw the tips of Cas’s limp fingers lying in the dirt along with the rest of his body.

It was something he has wanted to do for some time now. Dean noticed what happens halfway into its journey, his trembling hand hovering over Cas’s. He lowered it cautiously. When there’s barely an inch of space separating his middle finger from Cas’s knuckles, Dean stopped. Dean couldn’t close that final gap. He stared at the emptiness between them, small but terrifyingly infinite, and was frozen in terror.

“Dean!”

Sam’s call stirred him from that horrid trance, urgency reminding Dean of all else that happened. Of Crowley’s sacrifice, of the portal closing, of mom on the other side; those events crashed into him like a terrible wave, washing him out into a roaring sea that denied him any sense or reason. Standing, legs ready to give out on him at any moment, Dean stumbled towards where he last heard his brother.

He forgot about the steps. Sam caught him, guiding him past the threshold and into the cabin with lumbering haste. Dean’s vision returned to him soon, though. He drew Sam further to his side, for a loose hug, then shoved his brother’s oafish frame off of him. Dean supported himself using the wall instead. “What?” he asked, growling, “What is it?”

Sam tried to speak but got cutoff by a shrill cry coming from another room. Sam shrugged, jerking his head to where, Dean guesses, the crying originated. He’d also take a stab at who’s responsible for crying, too.

Kelly’s son. Lucifer’s son. The whole damned reason Dean’s life lay shattered in the clearing out back.

Hearing those whines and sobs rattle the cabin’s chilly silence helped harden what remained of his heart, enough so that the baby’s shrieking echoed in the hollow chambers of Dean’s chest. It made what he must ask next much easier. “You didn’t kill him yet?”

Sam visibly startled, jaw clenched that familiar way Dean knows meant an argument brewed within; his brother’s puppy dog features deceived, hiding his true feelings. Again, as Sam readied to speak, the baby took his cue and interrupted with a damning wail. Sam pressed his lips into a thin, mangled line while he waited his turn.

A minute passed, and it’s doubtful the little guy would lose steam soon. Dean sighed. He pushed off the wall, passing Sam as he followed the noisy little bastard. Sam stayed right behind him, heavy footsteps and chiding tone mixing with the crying to shred Dean’s nerves into oblivion. “You are not doing this, Dean,” Sam hissed, tugging on his elbow, “we need to talk about it first –“

“Who can talk over all this racket!” He wrenched his arm free, storming into the baby’s nursery while Sam dawdled under the doorframe. Their entrance meant little to the newborn, who continued crying despite their entrance. “And I’m not killing him –“ he kept his yet stored in the barrel of his mouth, unfired, conscious of how it will be received in the moment – “gonna shut him up for a while, s’all…” Dean punctuated his claim by grabbing the baby, Jack if the painted name on the crib meant anything, and tucking him into the crook of his arm. He bounced him like he did Sam decades ago, like he would for any normal baby, cooing sweet nothing that tumbled out of him as if they were sand in a broken hourglass, shards mixed within. Dean spied a rocking chair in the corner and, with Sam’s piercing gaze studying him, Dean collapsed into it.

That seemed to work. Dean’s gentle rocking, paired with a hummed lullaby cherrypicked from his past, put the hellion in his arms at ease. Jack stared up, transfixed by what Dean guessed is the tall lamp casting a gentle glow on them both; a lamp Sam, now in the room and by his side, flicked on after Dean sat down. It must be the center of his focus, because Dean wouldn’t believe the baby looked at him like he did; like he’s a bright and beautiful thing, deserving of attention, of being the center of his known universe. He didn’t want that, especially from him.

Dean swallowed a curse and ended their contest, sure if he looked into the baby’s eyes any longer, he would damn the consequences and wring the life from this tiny body nestled in his hands. He waited for Jack’s fit to tamper lower and lower, rising only after a moment of uninterrupted silence. Dean carried Jack back, returning him to his crib. He added another mistake into the column of ever-increasing errors and glanced at Lucifer’s kid a final time. He examined him, searching for little horns or a tail or tattoos of sixes; he found nothing. Nothing that proved he’s more than a child, innocent and carefree.

Sam hung by his shoulder, buzzing halo bothersome in Dean’s ear. “I think he likes you.”

Dean huffed under breath, “I wish I could say the same.”

He left. Sam trailed in his wake; tread heavy from being constipated with a smug righteousness Dean dreaded will be shat all over him when Sam had the chance. He was silent until the kitchen, then Sam struck. “His mother just died, Dean.”

Dean shrugged, “So did ours.” He expected that to feel weird saying, but it hadn’t. Sam gaped at him, like it had. Maybe Dean’s in shock. Maybe he was too used to having a dead mom. Dean carried on regardless. “If you think a sob story’s gonna convince me of anything, try hitting me when the kids got enough pages to fill a book larger than Moby Dick’s, or ours. Right now, he’s a table of contents and not much else.”

“Exactly,” Sam needled, poking Dean’s chest. Dean swat him away with the refrigerator door, creating a makeshift barrier to protect himself from Sam’s crusade. He dug around for something to drink, something boozy, as Sam prattled. “Look, Dean, we… I know our thing is – our thing is killing monsters but, Dean, he’s a baby. He – he didn’t do anything –“

“He was conceived,” Dean said, “that’s enough for me.” His groping fingers pushed aside the carton of milk for a third time; he still couldn’t find the beer.

“That wasn’t his fault.” Sam rested his hand over Dean’s where it rested on the refrigerator door, pleading for Dean to look at him by touch alone. Dean relented, darting his eyes for a fleeting glance. Sam’s brows were drawn in like a steep hill, and he appeared absolutely ghastly because of the refrigerator’s light. Dean fell back to his mission. “Lucifer… he set this in motion, and we’ve dealt with him.”

“And what did it cost us?”

Sam sighed. “Everyone we lost knew what this was about,” he told Dean, “knew how it might end. They were ready to risk their lives for this.”

“We were here to take down Lucifer, end of story,” Dean spat, knocking items onto the floor in his fervor. He tore through like a whirlwind, throwing food everywhere. Eggs, lettuce, ketchup and pickles – no beer though. Dammit. “And with the kid kicking, we haven’t even finished our mission.”

“Jack is not Lucifer!” Sam squeezed Dean’s wrist, begging for more attention. Dean’s spiteful, rigid glare burned a hole in the back of the fridge. He refused to move even an inch. “He’s a baby, and we… we kill monsters. We kill the ones who have no chance of being saved. He was just born, Dean. He had no choice in that.”

“Who’s to say that he won’t choose to be a monster, once he’s old enough?”

Sam strangled his wrist, now, Dean’s fingers numbing because of his brother’s impassioned grip. “We’ll make sure. We’ll raise him right.”

This drew Dean out of the refrigerator. “We?” he laughed, bitterness churning in his gut. “We, really? You think…” Dean didn’t finish, speechless at the insanity Sam presented. He and Sam, raising Lucifer’s kid? He and Sam, sheltering the baby who ruined their lives? He and Sam… “I hate to break it to you, Sammy,” he continued, his voice returning, “but this ain’t the nineties. We can’t have it all, clearly. And we are not taking that kid in like some muddy stray.”

“Cas wanted to raise him.”

Dean gagged. The toxic rush of seconds ago disappeared, spilling out from the seam Sam pulled loose.

Sam, at least, was aware enough to briefly mime an apology. His face contorted into a pained expression, exaggerated to better mangle his earlier fury. However, that’s smoothed and replaced with sterner features as he detached himself from his words, and the ugliness that they inspired. He stood tall, committed to the outburst, and from the curl of his scowl, Dean wouldn’t expect him to take back what’s been said. It will linger like the other ghosts.

If that was how he wanted to do this.

“Sure,” Dean agreed, “and that got him what, exactly?” He slammed the refrigerator door, startling both of them and the baby. Jack’s wailing picked up where he left off, although sharper and more annoying. Dean pushed into Sam, instinct urging him to soothe like he did earlier. Dean stopped himself, hesitating. He spun on his heel, leaving where he came in.

Sam shouted, “You can’t just run away Dean!”

“I’m getting some air, is all!” he yelled back, ripping the door off its hinges in his haste to leave.

A terrifying gust rammed into him almost immediately, giving him the very air he craved. Then, a second wind blows in the opposite direction; stealing his breath as his gaze landed on the body of his angel, immobile, with black skid marks in a shoddy recreation of what might be wings splayed beside him like oddly bent branches. Dean blindly descended, too focused with Cas’s form than the stairs. When his feet reached solid, uneven ground, Dean slowed to a glacial pace. Cas didn’t react.

Dean tried not to, too. Hand at his cheek, wiping some more stray tears, Dean failed.

He ripped himself away, jogging from the backyard space towards the front where his true escape was. Dean white knuckled his keys, jagged teeth biting into the palm of his hand. Pain kept him from spiraling, from thinking, from staying there. And when he couldn’t use pain, key nestled in the ignition instead of his hand, Dean had the next best thing – open roads.

The engine roared, overpowering the blood rushing past his ears. Dean demolished the speed limit easily, bulleting across the asphalt, pedal his trigger. It’s early enough he needn’t worry about highway patrolmen or wayward pedestrians. He drove fast, loose, and recklessly. Fuck Vin Diesel, Dean thought. Vin had nothing on him.

Kelly’s cabin was a blurry spot in his rearview mirror, a speck he might scratch off with his nail if he pleased. Trees became indistinguishable from each other. Not that it mattered, Dean’s tunnel vision blocking his periphery. His eyes remained fixed ahead of him, uncharacteristically so. It took most his focus to keep like that, hands cramping on the wheel from throttling it. He counted dash after dash and tallied potholes as he hit them, stuffing his mind with senseless figures other than the lone one he abandoned in the field.

Soon, Dean reached a nearby town. The greenery became sparser, leaves and wood replaced by buildings and city blocks and lampposts and streetlights. He hit his first light, a blip of red flashing for attention. Thoughtlessly, Dean flattened his foot against the brake; Baby’s tires squealing as she fought momentum. Dean knocked against his dashboard from the force, falling back only after his car fully stopped. He couldn’t see the streetlight dangling above. Dean knew he sat over the line, his Baby’s hood hanging in the intersection, asking for an accident.

A second later, and what he was driving from caught up to him.

Dean gasped, curling in on himself, hands glued to the wheel. His body seized with sobs that bruise, each tremor punching his gut. He used what little strength he had and glanced at his reflection. That speck on his rearview, that he foolishly clawed at, didn’t disappear; it was caught in his bloodshot eyes.

He couldn’t continue driving like this.

Red light, green light, it didn’t matter now. Dean crawled along to the nearest lot that belonged to a tacky chain eatery. Parking inside, Dean threw his car door open and spilled free of his Baby. He fell to his knees, hissing, denim ripping on impact and gravel scratching his skin. Dean staggered to his feet. Blood trickled down his leg from the open wound on his knee. He walked forward, dazed, while Baby idled at an angle, keys trapped in her ignition. If it were later in the day, someone might steal her. If Dean were acting like himself, he might care.

He didn’t go far. Dean slowed as he approached the fast-food joint, stopping inches from the backdoor. His bottom lip wobbled, Dean raking his hair with twitching fingers. He stared at the door, at the wooden sign hanging by a single, rusted nail. It depicted a stereotypical pirate, with hat, beard, and eyepatch, painted on a blue background and encircled by cartoonish rope that framed this pirate’s face along with an oblong addition underneath of the word ‘BUCCANEERS’. The pirate glared ahead, at some far point, as if Dean weren’t there blocking it.

But he was. Dean was here, while everyone else – everyone he cared about…

“Why me?” he muttered, “Why’s it always… why do I have to deal with it, with the after, with picking up the pieces of someone else’s mess.” Dean growled, head bowed, eyes unflinchingly locked with the pirate’s. “Mom… Crowley… Ca” – he stuttered on his name, wounds still too fresh – “you’re gonna bring him back. You’re gonna bring them all back. After everything I’ve done for this shithole, that I’ve been through, it’s the least that I’m owed. I deserve to… I – I don’t deserve this.”

The pirate ignored his pleas, it couldn’t answer him. And Chuck, apparently, wouldn’t answer him.

“…Okay.”

Dean launched himself at the pirate, picturing a brown beard instead of black, and a grayish blue eye where a black one was painted. He smashed it with one punch, face splintering and spraying everywhere. Dean continued wrecking it, nearly destroying the door in his fury. Aiming a final blow, Dean hit the sign off the nail and sent it flying from view.

Exhausted, knuckles as bloody as his knee, Dean collapsed near the stacked crates and leaning pallets.

A shudder traveled across his body, from the top of his head, dragged along each vertebra like a sharp, clawed finger, and finally making his legs seize and stretch out in front of him. Dean vacuumed in a deep breath, chest ballooning to contain it. He won’t release it willingly.

“Dude…”

Coughing, Dean glanced up at some teenager standing nearby, gaping at the scene. He wore a large brown jacket a shade lighter than his skin over a deep blue polo that matches the visor currently worn like a headband, so his bangs wouldn’t his face. A ring of keys dangled in his hands. Keys that, Dean guessed, were for opening the very door he pummeled as if it were a punching bag.

“Hey, man,” the teen asked, glancing between Dean and the wrecked door, “are you… like, good? Do I need to call someone?”

A repairman. The teen’s manager. Neither would do Dean any good, but both will need to know about the damage he did to the property.

Dean groaned, climbing to his feet. He swayed with the breeze, a lone willow in this blacktop clearing. Some of the blood from his knuckles drippled like morning dew would off its leaves. He advanced, the teen tensing as he moves closer. Their shoulders brushed, the younger of the two stumbling back a few inches, cowering in Dean’s presence. Dean thought he should say something, let him know there’s nothing to be afraid of.

That felt like too much of a damned lie, so he caught the words in his throat and swallowed them down.

He returned to his car, starting it like nothing happened, like his skin hadn’t torn and tears weren’t drying on his cheeks as he refused to wipe them off. Dean tapped the pedal and drove off. He drove the same path he took earlier, only in reverse. He drove to Kelly’s cabin, and all that waited for him there.

Dean parked sloppily, again; however, pocketing his keys this time as he left Baby. He didn’t acknowledge the front door, shuffling into the backyard for another glimpse of Cas’s body.

Cas was gone. His wings were still there, and Sam was, too.

�� Sam dropped a stack of branches onto a large pile he must have begun gathering after Dean fled. He rubbed at his neck, steadily avoiding where Dean’s gaze was by looking at the pile. “I moved him,” he explained, “I figured we might as well start on the… on the pyres for him, and Kelly.” Sam paused. He grabbed a lone branch, snapping a twig from it. “I didn’t do anything else. Figured you would want to…”

“Yeah.” Dean blinked, then imagined the shadows burnt into the ground rising and rising, flapping determinately, until they vanished. He blinked. Those wings hadn’t moved an inch.

Dean headed into the cabin.

He spied Cas’s body immediately, laid atop the kitchen table. Sam rearranged him during transit, closing his eyes and setting Cas’s arms at his sides. If he weren’t thinking about it constantly, weren’t reminded of Cas’s current state with every beat of his own heart, Dean might believe Cas was asleep. Or, at the very least, imitating it, since angels can’t sleep. They can’t eat. There’s a lot they can’t do. And Cas won’t ever not do any of that, not anymore.

Sighing, Dean circled the table while tracing the edges of it with his fingertips. He reached the other side, where a gauzy pair of curtains hung. Dean swung his arm outward, going through the motions to free them. It’s quick work.

Wrapping Cas with these curtains will take a lifetime.

Dean started by lifting Cas’s head and slipping a strip underneath. He cradled him, unnaturally soft tufts of hair tickling his fingers. Holding Cas in such a manner encouraged further action, tempted Dean to do more. He succumbed to these voices, the fast few hours since they last sung weakened his resolve. Dean ran his bloodied knuckles across Cas’s face. He stained deathly pale skin red. He hissed, stubble like sandpaper against his cuts. He left no wrinkle untouched.

Finally, Dean switched to his thumb and pressed it just below Cas’s lips.

It’s maddening, touching Cas like this, like he always wanted. He dreamt of being able to for longer than he could remember. Daydreams and fantasies of Dean, curled into Cas’s side, leisurely and lovingly memorizing every inch of the other’s face. Those moments were always pretend, too human to ever be real, to expect from an angel like Cas. Now, as his thumb swept along the bow of Cas’s lips, Dean paid his respects to the thousands of imagined mornings and nights that would not be. Dean worshiped Cas in a way he never wanted to, but in the only way he’d ever be allowed to.

“I’m sorry…” Dean placed a featherlight kiss to the corner of Cas’s mouth. Then, unable to bear looking at him, he wrapped the curtain over his face.

He shrouded the rest of Cas’s body with military precision, robotically completing his ritual. Dean hovered at his side, tightly clutching the final knot in Cas’s wrappings. His head hung listlessly, the foundations of a prayer forming on his tongue. He gnashed his teeth together, smashing it, and the sentiment’s remains tumbled backwards. It ripped apart his insides like glass. The only person who would listen, who’d care, who might heal this hurt, couldn’t.

Cas was –

Dean let go, marching into the backyard. Silently Dean joined Sam, amassing wood in his stead while Sam assembled the pyres.

Together, they completed their duties by sundown. It might have been sooner if Sam didn’t slack off to play nursemaid to Lucifer’s kid. He ran off at the slightest bit of static coming from the garish, incongruently colored baby monitor clipped onto his belt loop, dragging their duties out because of intermittent breaks. When they finally set Cas and Kelly on their respective pyres, the sky darkened to the same shade it was that they lost both of them.

Dean handled the fire. He struck two matches from a box buried in a kitchen drawer, then tossed them into the kindling. Sam, meanwhile, held a very fussy baby that showed no respect for ceremony. His piercing shrieks rung out clearly, somehow amplified by the open space. And as Jack’s cries mixed with the roar and crackle of flames, along with Sam mindlessly grunting back in a desperate plea for Jack to stop, Dean gave in. He stole Jack from Sam, nestling the baby against his chest.

His temper lessened while in Dean’s arms, and Jack soon quieted.

Dean felt Sam’s stare on his profile once more, an uncomfortable heat much different than what radiated from the cremating bodies before them. He hated it, being gawked at like some zoo animal. Yet Dean refused to turn, to bark at Sam that this momentary lapse meant nothing.

He’s only exhausted. Too tired to shutter the devastation on his face, every crack of Dean’s heart was on full display. He’s not in the mood to fight with Sam, either, aware he needed him more than he needed to lash out. He’s broken and couldn’t even manage the energy to toss Jack into the fires like he imagined himself doing.

Instead, Dean embraced him. He watched the smoke of his angel’s body drift upwards, Cas leaving him for good, forever, and rested his chin against the small, soft head of Cas’s destroyer.

Tagged List:

@llamasdumpsterfire

#supernatural #spn #spn13 #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #sam winchester #jack kline #baby jack kline #widower!dean #canononical character death #spn chapter fic

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shirtlesssammy · 3 years

Text

6x21: Let It Bleed

Then:

Dean and Cas broke up

Now:

March 15, 1937

Providence, Rhode Island

It was a dark and stormy night, and HP Lovecraft sits at his typewriter clicking away. He finishes his manuscript, and his door slowly creaks open. He pulls out a revolver and heads to the hallway, but quickly backs back into the room and locks the door. A window blasts open and a shadowy figure is there. He pleads with it --but becomes blood cannon fodder anyway.

Dean continues to dissect what could have gone differently to prevent his breakup with Cas. Sam tries being the logical friend --but there’s no explaining heartbreak, folks. Bobby comes in to tell them that when Cas popped in for his late night tet-a-tet with Dean, he stole a journal. But don’t worry, Bobby had a copy.

Upon reading it, Bobby discovers a mention of HP Lovecraft. Dean doesn’t know who that is --and you’re going to tell me the dude that knows horror movies like the back of his hand and reads Stephen King doesn’t know who the father of horror is? And I know that Dean lies to cover up things he thinks other people would look down on him for, but this would be a weird moment to do that.

Anyway, Bobby thinks Lovecraft knew something about purgatory.

Meanwhile, Ben is chilling in his room reading Cthulhu graphic novels while his mom is watching the sportsball with her new beau. Demons bust in and gut the boyfriend right away. One takes after Ben. Ben gets to his room and calls Dean in a panic. He doesn’t know what’s out there and he can’t get to the shotgun in Lisa’s closet. Dean tells him to jump out his window. It’s too late --Crowley’s there and has both Ben and Lisa.

Crowley tells Dean that no harm will come to them if he backs off from the purgatory plan.

Sam throws some salt on Dean’s wound and asks if Cas knows about this. “We gotta assume that he does.” OUCH.

While Bobby heads off to follow the Lovecraft lead, Dean and Sam set to finding Lisa and Ben. They summon Balthazar and tell him that Crowley is alive. He blinks and tells them Cas already informed him. They then tell him about splitting the souls in purgatory plan. Balthazar knew that too, ahem. He refuses to help find Ben and Lisa.

Sam thinks they should call Cas. “WE’RE NOT CALLING CAS.” This is a man in pain, Sam, he needs time.

Bobby, meanwhile, interviews someone who possesses a large collection of Lovecraft’s private letters. He asks about March 10, 1937 specifically, and the dude wonders if he’s working with the other guy --”trench coat, looks like Colombo, talks like Rainman.” We’re supposed to assume he’s describing Cas, but ?? okay. They’re competitors actually.

The guy tells Bobby that Lovecraft had a dinner party with other blackmagic followers. They were getting together to perform a ritual to open a door into another dimension. He has --or had-- letters describing the dinner. Bobby leaves, knowing exactly how the letters disappeared.

Bobby discusses the case with Sam, revealing that one guest of the party -the maid’s son- didn’t die and has been in a mental ward since that night. He’s gong to interview the man now.

Dean, meanwhile, is lining the demons up and taking them down if they don’t answer his questions.

For Murderous Rampage Science:

Sam tries to get his brother to take a break, but Dean is 100% on an emotional bender and will not stop. Sam then heads outside to pray to Cas --pleading with him to bring Ben and Lisa home.

When Cas doesn’t appear, Sam walks away, dejected. Only Cas is there, invisible to Sam. AND I WANT TO TEAR OUT MY EYES.

Cas confronts Crowley. Crowley was “merely exploiting the obvious loophole.” Cas demands he tell him where they are.

Crowley tells Cas the only way to save Lisa and Ben is for him to find Purgatory.

For Literal Science:

Cas flaps away when Balthazar summons him. They meet in a wooded area, and Balthazar confronts Cas about his partnership with Crowley.

Balthazar confirms that Cas would be the vessel to take on the souls from purgatory. He could explode from all that energy. Cas assures him he won’t (weeps). Cas demands Balthazar tell him if he’s with Cas, and Balthazar laughs but agrees.

Bobby interviews the maid’s son, and discovers Cas was already there. Bobby asks for the story. The man tells what was said at the time, but then asks, “Do you believe in monsters?” He tells Bobby that the door did open that night, and whatever came through took over his mother. Then the others died. Bobby gives his condolences to the man, and he shows Bobby a picture of his mother. Bobby recognizes her.

Dean prepares his Tortures for Demons™ when his foot drags part of the devil’s trap away. The demon immediately gets the drop on Dean, only for Cas to flap in (or turn visible) just in time to save Dean’s bacon.

Dean’s...ungrateful. Surly, even! Cas apologizes about Lisa and Ben, and he’s hurt when Dean doesn’t believe that he had nothing to do with their abduction.

“Dean, I do everything that you ask,” Cas pleads. “I always come when you call and I am your friend - still. Despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats.” Cas is just asking for backup this ONE TIME. (And you know what? Knowing the crap these Winchester boys have pulled, I always felt like Cas made a good point here.) They lob soulful looks at each other. Cas promises to rescue Lisa and Ben if Dean will just PLEASE stand down and let him absorb every single monster soul EVER it’s NOT A BIG DEAL. This is entirely the wrong tactic, and Dean tells Cas to go back to Crowley and he’ll save Lisa and Ben on his own.

Cas flaps away. Soulfully.

Bobby arrives at Eleanor-the-Dragon’s door. She’s at a little cabin in the middle of nowhere - one of her safe houses. He confronts her with the old photo and demands to know her agenda. “You know, we’re not all alike,” she retorts. She reacts similarly poorly to Bobby complaining about sleeping with her without knowing she was a monster. BOBBY! WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT RIGHT NOW. She tells him that the world’s lucky that she’s who popped through the portal. The professor is on Team Earth. Bobby begs to know the secret of the portal so that he can protect her from Cas.

Balthazar flaps in on Sam. He’s joining Team Winchester because he’s terribly concerned about Cas’s life choices. He flies them close to Crowley’s angel-warded lockup, and Dean and Sam swoop in to save Lisa and Ben.

They split up inside the warehouse - always a sensible plan. Sadly, Sam “Soft Noggin” Winchester gets knocked out IMMEDIATELY. Sam plz. Dean bursts into Lisa and Ben’s prison like a little angry blur of knives and in short order, he’s killed all the demons standing guard. They start to flee, when Lisa holds Ben at knifepoint, her eyes flashing black.

The demon goes all in on the mental torture, telling Ben that Dean’s his real father (JK!) and that Dean is Lisa’s WORST EVER MISTAKE. While Dean catalogues the internal damage, he and Lisa fight. He sheathes the demon blade and starts an exorcism, and I look directly at the camera. Demon Lisa’s got another trick up her sleeve. While the exorcism progresses, the demon grabs a tool and jabs it into Lisa’s gut. Then, she gives Dean a choice: exorcise her and Lisa bleeds out or let Lisa remain animate (but a demon puppet). Wrenchingly, Dean finishes the exorcism.

He makes sure Ben’s armed with a salt-round shotgun and then they head out of the factory. Ben shoots his first demon while Dean shouts at him to “pull it together” and I...just…….

Guys.

I’m just going to box these feelings up and stuff them in my Dean Winchester is a Sad Child attic, while humming Cat’s in the Cradle to myself.

They find Sam and head for a hospital, Dean muttering the whole time that she’s FINE Lisa is JUST FINE she is FINE. Cut to the hospital where Lisa is NOT FINE, but also is not dead! Yet!

Cas flaps in.

Dean refuses his apology. REFUSES IT. But Cas didn’t come to apologize. Okay, he DID, but he primarily came to heal Lisa miraculously. Dean looks up at him like he completely forgot that Cas can heal.

For Healing Cas Science:

In Jensen Ackles your face is a menace news, Dean displays grief, joy, relief, anger, betrayal, sad cat memes, and more in like less than five seconds of screen time. He thanks Cas for healing Lisa. “I wish this changed anything.” Regrets lie thickly between them. Dean asks for one more favor. He wants himself erased from Lisa and Ben’s memories for good.

When Lisa wakes, Ben explains that they were in a car crash. Dean enters, and introduces himself as the guy who hit them. GAH. The shitty things these characters do!!! Excuse me while I hurl knives at the wall for a solid thirty minutes!

“I lost control for a minute,” Dean says, not AT ALL metaphorically about their time together. “And I just want to say that I’m sorry.” He heads out, leaving the Braedens entirely unprotected from future supernatural threats and missing a substantial chunk of their lives. Hope Cas also cleaned up Matt’s body??? And the busted door??? (Side note: does anyone else have weird squid emotions thinking about Cas willfully blanking their memories when his own memories have been tampered with time and time again? I SURE DON’T!)

Dean meets judgmental Sam back at the Impala. Sam, I see your judgment, and I judge thee valid. Dean talks about his emotions in an open and healt----hahaha nope. Dean tells Sam that if he ever mentions the Braedens to him then he’ll break Sam’s nose. He punctuates that with mournful, red-rimmed eyes which definitely deal at least 1.5X damage against Sam’s puppy eyes. They drive off into the sad music.

Elsewhere, Eleanor Visyak leaves her cabin, only to encounter Cas behind her. Cas flaps her away. CAAAAAAAAS!

You QUOTE Miette??!!

Your chocolate's been in my peanut butter for far too long

What’s with the slow burn?

You’re just a man. I’m better off protecting myself

I’m officially on your team. You bastards

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #Lisa Braeden #Ben Braeden #spn 6x21 #let it bleed #supernatural season 6 #bobby singer #balthazar

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

Empty Words (Bucky x reader)

Empty words (Based on the song by Beth Crowley)

Bucky Barnes X reader

Warnings: Break-up, tearing apart your room, angst (not with Bucky), comfort (with Bucky)

Word count 1924

Summary: Reader goes through a rough break-up and calls her friend Bucky to help her.

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

“Look, I just need some time to think things over okay? I just need some time to myself,” they said. You shook your head. You knew what they meant. They weren’t trying to find themselves. They were trying to find someone else. “I should go,” they said.

You started pleading with them. “Please, don’t leave! Stay - don’t go, please…” It was as if you weren’t saying anything. they didn’t acknowledge you, just kept walking towards the door. “Is this really what you want?!” you yelled. They just slammed the door.

You were crying, and let out a few sobs. You began frantically walking around the room, anger boiling your blood. You tossed photographs across your apartment, breaking the frames. You threw a lamp on the ground, punched a hole in the wall...you looked around at the apartment. Shattered glass covered the floor, along with pieces of furniture splayed about. You didn’t even remember pushing them. Or throwing them, if that’s what had happened. The pain didn’t register until you looked down at your hands and bare feet, bleeding from the shards of glass.

You began crying harder and sunk to the floor up against the wall. You don’t know how long you sat there, but the sun had since set. Hands shaking, you pulled out your phone and dialed your best friend. Bucky.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings -

“Hello?” a tired voice answered.

Your throat went dry, and you just kept sniffling. “Bucky…” you said weakly.

He sat up, any exhaustion gone from his body. “Y/n? What happened?”

You just started crying harder. You couldn’t find any of the right words to say, and the tears wouldn’t stop long enough to form a full sentence. Bucky pushed himself out of his bed and reached for his shoes. “Y/n, where are you? Are you at your place?”

You nodded, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you croaked out.

“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and came out of his room, running through the compound to the garage. He threw himself into the car that corresponded with the key he had stolen from the place where Stark kept them - he’d deal with him later. He sped out into the streets, making his way to your house. What could have possibly happened at 2 in the morning to make you this upset? Why had you called him and not your partner? Realization set in to Bucky and he hardened. This better not have anything to do with them.

It must have only been 5 minutes since he had hung up, but to you it felt like hours. When he finally knocked on the door, you managed to say “Come in.”

When he opened the door, his face paled at the image in front of him. What the hell had happened? He called out your name and you whimpered in your corner, his eyes landing on you after following the sound. He stepped over the broken glass, not concerned with it at the moment. He came over and crouched in front of you. His heart broke at the sight of your bleeding extremities and your shaking frame.

“Hey, it’s me. y/n, look at me.” he said.

You met his gaze, and he saw just how much pain was in your gaze. He wrapped his arms around you and cradled your head against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright,” he whispered. He took a deep breath. “What happened doll?”

Your eyes started tearing up again as you tried to speak. “they...they left...I begged them to...but they…”

Bucky hushed you again, getting the point and not wanting to upset you any further. The two of you sat there for a while, him helping you try to calm down and you trying to process what had happened.

“Why don’t they want me?” you whispered.

Bucky felt his heart lurch. “Because they’re a bastard who doesn’t know what they have even though it’s right in front of them.” He swallowed. “They don’t deserve you.”

“Then why do I feel like it’s the other way around?”

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your cries dying down into numbness and exhaustion. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

You simply nodded, not wanting to be alone right now. “Can we go somewhere else?” you asked. You didn’t want to wake up to this tomorrow. He agreed and picked you up, carrying you back to the car. When he started it, you noticed just exactly how early it was. It was now just after 3 in the morning, and you wondered how all that time had passed.

The drive back to the tower was silent, Bucky not wanting to make you relive tonight and you being too numb to. He helped you inside and up to his room, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake anyone. You fell back onto the bed and curled up in a ball on your side, trying to shut everything out.

You slept the entire next day.

You stayed for about a week, not feeling up to facing your own home again quite yet. You cycled between feeling the emotions too heavily to being too numbed out to care about anything. As the days passed, you numbed out more and more. You were starting to believe what Bucky had told you, that the person who had broken your heart wasn’t worth your time or energy.

You finally decided that you were okay to go back to your house. You’d have to face it sooner or later, and the mess wasn’t going to get any smaller. Bucky offered to come with you, but you told him you’d be alright on your own. You were starting to go back to your normal self again, and you didn’t think the memories would be too painful.

You walked in the door to everything you did that night. It was now that you realized the extent that you lost it. There was more shattered glass on the floor than patches where the floor was clear, most of the furniture was overturned, pictures were everywhere and the frames were in broken pieces everywhere else, and you had no idea where to start.

Great.

You decided to start with the glass, walking over to the closest to grab your broom and a pan to sweep it into. You made your way through the room, sweeping up everything that was broken and putting the pictured on the counter. You’d decide if you wanted to keep them later. After the floor was clear you started turning the furniture right side up and putting it back in its place.

This entire process only took about an hour, but you were wiped out. The memories, despite your resistance, did start flooding back in. it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, you were able to push away the pain of them relatively quickly.

You decided to watch something on Netflix to get a few laughs in before you called it a night. Flipping through your options, you settled on your favorite show and had your finger on the play button, when there was a knock on the door.

You groaned. Seriously?

You put the remote back on the table and walked over to the door. It was probably just Bucky because you probably forgot something back at the tower.

You were not expecting it to be the person who walked out on you a week ago.

“Hey,” they said with a smile, letting themselves in. It was as if nothing had happened. You tensed and froze a little. You crossed your arms and turned to them. “What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

They sat on the armrest of the sofa, facing you. “I - I’m sorry. Look, I never should have walked out that door. I love you, and I shouldn’t have left in the first place. Everything I need is right here,” they stood making his way over to you. “Can you forgive me?”

You kept your face expressionless. You weighed your options. You were finally starting to move on, you had cut your losses with them. You thought of them as some asshole who didn’t really care about you in the first place. Yet here they were again.

“You think it’s that easy?” you asked, walking away and turning your back on them.

They scoffed a little, turning back to you. “Y/n, I fucked up. I’m sorry. Just give me another chance. I can change, I’ll be what you want me to be. Just tell me what you want from me.”

You laughed dryly turning back to them. “I wanted you to not leave in the first place! I wanted you to listen to me begging you to stay. I wanted you to not throw away what we had. I wanted to know you loved me.” you shook your head. “You had your chance to give me what I wanted. Now? I want you to leave.”

They stepped toward you again. “Don’t do this y/n.”

“Do what? Exactly what you did to me?” you shook your head. “I’m sure that there will be someone else you can fool with your words. Go find her. She’s out there somewhere. But you won’t find her here”

“I swear, I’ll do anything -”

“Yeah, those are just empty words. What about the next time? You’ll say this is the last time until it happens again. So just do us both a favor and move on. “

They shook his head, anger dancing in their eyes. “You’ll be sorry y/n. You’ll change your mind and I won’t be there anymore. You’re nothing without me.

You shook your head. “Say whatever you want. Nothing you say could ever hurt me again. I know better than to waste my time on you. I’ll find someone who knows what they have when they have it. So, I’ll ask you again: go.” You even surprised yourself with your words. You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying, the words were just coming out. And from their reaction, he wasn’t expecting it either.

They opened and closed his mouth a few times, anger and confusion fighting each other on their face. Finally their face hardened again and they walked out just like they had before, making sure to slam it behind them.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding and sat back on the couch. Did that really just happen? Were you happy with yourself? Were you proud? Disappointed? Did you actually want this? Was that the right decision?

You shook your head. No. you were not going to let them back in. You had already mourned once, they wasn’t worth a second round. But still… No. You were better off without them. You were sure of that now, thanks to Bucky's help.

You felt your heart tug a little bit. Bucky had been so kind to you and made you feel better about yourself than anyone else had in your entire life. You pulled out your phone to send him a text.

Hey, you still free? Turns out I don’t want to be alone after all.

He texted back almost instantly

Be right there. You ok?

You smiled as you responded

Never been better.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #breakup #fanfiction #fanfic #songlyrics #song lyric inspired #song lyrics #lyrics

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